15658	----	TOPSY-TURVY LAND ARABIA PICTURED FOR CHILDREN [Illustration: ARAB BOYS.] TOPSY-TURVY LAND ARABIA PICTURED FOR CHILDREN BY SAMUEL M. ZWEMER AND AMY E. ZWEMER [Illustration] Fleming H. Revell Company NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO Copyright, 1902 by Fleming H. Revell Company (July) [Transcriber's Note to the text version: in the original images, the word Hadramaut has a breve above the u.] DEDICATED TO THE BOYS AND GIRLS WHO ARE HELPING TO TURN THE WORLD UPSIDE DOWN PREFACE This is a book of pictures and stories for big children and small grown-up folks; for all who love Sinbad the sailor and his strange country. It is a topsy-turvy book; there is no order about the chapters; and you can begin to read it anywhere. It is intended to give a bird's-eye view to those who cannot take birds' wings. The stories are not as good as those of the Arabian Nights but the morals are better--and so are the pictures. Moreover the stories are true. You must not skip any of the chapters or the pictures but you may the preface, if you like. {S.M.Z. {A.E.Z. _Bahrein, Arabia._ CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. WHY IS ARABIA TOPSY-TURVY LAND? 15 II. A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY 21 III. THE SQUARE-HOUSE WITH THE BLACK OVERCOAT 27 IV. SABBACH-KUM BIL KHEIR! 31 V. AT THE CORNER GROCERY 37 VI. BLIND FATIMAH 43 VII. DATES AND SUGAR-CANE 47 VIII. THE SHEPHERD OF THE SEWING-MACHINE 54 IX. THE CHILDREN OF THE DESERT 58 X. NOORAH'S PRAYER 64 XI. PICTURES WITH WORDS ONLY 69 XII. THE QUEER PENNIES OF OMAN AND HASSA 73 XIII. ARAB BABIES AND THEIR MOTHERS 79 XIV. BOAT-BUILDERS AND CARPENTERS 85 XV. ARABIC PROVERBS AND ARABIC HUMOUR 92 XVI. GOLD, FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH 97 XVII. SLAVES AND SLAVE TRADERS 101 XVIII. ABOUT SOME LITTLE MISSIONARIES 108 XIX. TURNING THE WORLD UPSIDE DOWN 113 XX. TURNING THE WORLD DOWNSIDE UP 118 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE ARAB BOYS _Facing Title._ MODES OF TRAVEL 16 EUROPEAN VISITORS ON DONKEYS 18 MAP OF ARABIA 23 READY FOR A CAMEL RIDE 24 THE SQUARE HOUSE WITH THE BLACK OVERCOAT 29 SABBACH-KUM BIL KHEIR! 33 ARAB GROCER 38 ARAB BOY IN A CROCKERY SHOP 41 HOW A MOSLEM BOY PRAYS 45 WOMEN SELLING SUGAR-CANE 48 DATES GROWING ON A DATE PALM 50 FIRE WOOD MARKET, BUSRAH 52 ARAB RIDERS WITH LANCES 60 PEARL MERCHANTS 62 ARABIAN WATER-BOTTLE 63 [From the Sunday School Times, by permission.] DESIGNS MADE OUT OF ARABIC WRITING 70 ARABIC LETTER FROM A POOR CRIPPLE 72 OMAN COIN 73 HASSA COINS 76 DATE-STICK CRADLE 80 WOMEN GRINDING AT THE MILL 82 BEDOUIN WOMEN EATING THEIR BREAKFAST 84 CARGO BOATS, BAHREIN 86 RIVER BOAT BUSRAH 87 SAWING A BEAM 89 AN ARAB CARPENTER'S TOOLS 90 PUZZLE OF THE THIRTY MEN 96 BRANCH OF THE INCENSE TREE 98 SLAVE GIRL IN ARABIA 102 LIBERATED SLAVES AT BAHREIN 104 MISSION HOUSE AT BUSRAH 110 THE SULTAN'S SOLDIERS 114 MUSCAT HARBOUR 122 AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW DRESS 124 I WHY IS ARABIA TOPSY-TURVY LAND? On this big round earth there are all sorts of countries and peoples. Men walk on it on every side just like flies crawling over a watermelon and they do not fall off either. On the next page you can see how they travel all around the world; some in steamships, some in carriages or on horses, some in jinrickshaws and some in the railway coaches. In Topsy-turvy Land they have no railroads and not even waggon-roads or waggons. A horse or a camel or a donkey is used for passengers and the camel caravan is a freight train. Or if you wish, the camel is a topsy-turvy ship which sails in the sand instead of in the water. It is called the ship of the desert. The masts point down instead of up; there are four masts instead of three; and although there are ropes the desert-ship has no sails and no rudder--unless the rudder be the tail. When the ship lies at anchor to be loaded it feeds on grass and the four masts are all snugly tucked away under the hull. In Arabia you generally see these ships of the desert in a long line like a naval procession, each battleship towing its mate by a piece of rope fastened from halter to tail! But not only is the mode of travel strange in Topsy-turvy Land, even the time of the day is all upside down. When the boys and girls of America are going to bed the boys and girls of Arabia are thinking of getting up. As early as four o'clock by western time the muezzin calls out loud from the top of the minaret (for Moslem churches have no steeples and no bells) to come and pray. Arabs count the hours from sunrise. It is noon at six o'clock and they breakfast at one; at three o'clock in the evening all good boys and girls are asleep. [Illustration: MODES OF TRAVEL.] In Topsy-turvy Land all the habits and customs are exactly opposite to those in America or England. For instance when a boy enters a room he takes off his shoes but leaves his hat on his head. I do not know whether we should call it a _hat_, however. His hat has no rim and is not made of felt or straw, but is just a folded handkerchief of a large size and bright colour with a piece of cord to hold it wound round his head--a sort of a hat in two pieces. The girls go without shoes but carefully cover their pretty (or ugly) faces with a black veil. At home you eat with a spoon or use a knife and fork. Here the Arabs eat with their fingers; nor do they use any plates or butter dishes, but a large piece of flat bread serves as a plate until it is all eaten. So you see in Arabia the children not only eat their rice and meat but their plates also. You read a book from left to right but in Arabia everybody begins at the right-hand cover and reads backward. Even the lines read backward and in Arabic writing there are no commas or capitals and the vowels are written not next to the consonants but stuck up above them. _Potato_ in Arabic would be written with English letters this way: O A O T T P Can you read it? In your country a carpenter stands at his bench to work, but here they sit on the ground. With you he uses a vise to hold the board or stick he is planing; here he uses his bare toes. With you he _pushes_ the saw or, especially, the plane away from him to cut or to smooth a piece of wood, but in Topsy-turvy Land he _pulls_ his tools towards him. Buttons are on the button-hole side and the holes are where you put the buttons. Door keys and door hinges are made of wood, not of iron as in the Occident. The women wear toe-rings and nose-rings as well as earrings and bracelets. Everything seems different from what it is in a Christian country. One strange sight is to meet people out riding. Do you know that the men ride donkeys side-saddle, but the women ride as men do in your country? When a missionary lady first came to Bahrein in Eastern Arabia and the boys saw her riding a donkey they called out: _"Come and see, come and see! The lady has no feet!"_ Because they saw only one side of her. Then another one called out and said: _"Yes she has, and they are both on this side!"_ [Illustration: EUROPEAN VISITORS ON DONKEYS.] Another odd custom is that Arabs always turn the fingers of the hand down as we turn them up in beckoning or calling anybody. Many other gestures seem topsy-turvy as well. In your country boys learn the lesson of politeness--ladies first; but it is not so over here. It is _men first_ in all grades of society; and not only men first but men last, in the middle, and all the time. Women and girls have a very small place given them in Topsy-turvy Land. The Arabs say that of all animal kinds the female is the most valuable except in the case of mankind! When a girl baby is born the parents are thought very unfortunate. How hard the Bedouin girls have to work! They are treated just like beasts of burden as if they had no souls. They go barefoot carrying heavy loads of wood or skins of water, grind the meal and make fresh bread every morning or spin the camel's hair or goat's hair into one coarse garment. They are very ignorant and superstitious, the chief remedies for sickness being to brand the body with a hot iron or wear charms--a verse from the Koran sewn up in leather or a string of blue beads, which are supposed to drive away evil influences. How very thankful girls should be that in all Christian lands they have a higher place and a better lot than the poor girls and women of Arabia! For the greatest contrast is the religion of the inhabitants of Topsy-turvy Land. That is all upside down too. The Lord Jesus teaches us to pray in secret not to be seen of men; we are to go quietly alone and tell God everything. But Mohammed, the prophet of Arabia, taught his followers to pray openly on any street corner, or on the deck of a ship, in public, just like the Pharisees whom Jesus condemns. And when these people fast, as they are supposed to for a whole month, they do not really go without food, but each day at _sunset_ they begin to eat in larger quantity than usual!--because they think by such fasting to gain favour with God and do not know that to fast from sin and evil habits is the fast God wants. Another thing very sad in this land of Topsy-turvy is that there are no Sunday-schools--they do not observe our Sabbath--and the boys and girls do not have bright Sunday-school lesson leaves or a picture-roll. They spend Sunday and every other day in learning all the evil they see in those that are grown up. Poor children! They have never heard the sweet words of Jesus, "Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God." We tell you all this about them that you may pray for them that God may soon send more missionaries to preach to them these precious words. We want you all by prayer and offerings to help put a silver lining in the dark clouds of their lives. The other chapters in this little book will tell you more about the land and its people and as you read them do not forget to pray for them. If you are faithful and true, always shining for Jesus, your bright light will reach as far as dark Arabia, and will help to turn that land of Topsy-turvy right side up. When joy and gladness will take the place of sorrow and sadness, and ignorance give way to the knowledge of the Truth. In one place in the Bible it tells how to make these topsy-turvy lands right side up again. Do you know where that is? Acts 17:6-7. "_These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also ... saying that there is another King, even_ JESUS." II A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY In the atlas Arabia looks like a big mail-pouch hung up by the side of some railway station, pretty empty of everything. But this queer mail-pouch country is not as empty as people imagine. It is a country larger than all of the United States east of the Mississippi. It is longer than the longest mail-pouch and much wider. From north to south you can ride a camel one thousand miles and from east to west more than six hundred. But the geography of the country is topsy-turvy altogether and that is why it has been so long a neglected peninsula. People kept on wondering at the queer exterior of the mail-pouch and never opened the lock to its secrets by looking into the interior. First of all, Arabia is perhaps the only land that has three of its boundaries fixed and the other always shifting. Such is the case with the northern boundary of Arabia. It is different on every map and changes every year because the inhabitants go about as nomads; that is, they "have no continuing city." Arabia has no rivers except underground. It has no railroad and very few roads at all. Some parts of the country are very green and fertile and in other parts there is not enough grass the year around to give one square meal to a single grasshopper. Arabia has four thousand miles of coast and yet only six harbours where steamers call. There are better maps of the North Pole and of Mars and of the moon than of southeastern Arabia. The reason is that men have spent millions of dollars to find the North Pole and telescopes are all the time looking at the moon; but no one has ever spent time or money to explore this part of Arabia. The Greek geographers had a better knowledge of Arabia than we have to-day. [Illustration: MAP OF ARABIA.] There are no lakes in Arabia, but there is a large sea of sand called _Al Ahkaf_, in which the traveller Von Wrede threw a lead and line and found no bottom! No one has been there since to see whether his story was true. At Bahrein, in eastern Arabia, there are salt-water wells on shore and fresh-water springs in the midst of the salt sea from which water is brought to shore. Arabia has no postage-stamps and no political capital and no telegraph system. Different coins from different parts of the world are used in different provinces. It is a land of contradictions and even the waters that bound it are misnamed. The Red Sea is blue; the Persian Gulf has no Persian ships and should be called an English lake; and the _Straits_ of Hormuz are crooked. This topsy-turvy land has no political divisions. Some say it has five and some seven provinces; no one knows what is its population as no census was ever taken. In nearly all countries the mountain ranges run north and south, but in Arabia they run nearly east and west. There are desert sands six hundred feet deep and mountain peaks nine thousand feet high. On the coasts it is fearfully hot and the climate is often deadly. On the highlands it is often bitterly cold; and yet the people are all of the same race and speech and custom and language and religion. [Illustration: READY FOR A CAMEL RIDE.] There are no pumps in Arabia, but plenty of wells. There are no woods in Arabia, but plenty of trees. The camel is a topsy-turvy ship and the ostrich a topsy-turvy bird. The Arabs call the former the ship of the desert; and the latter they say is half camel and half bird. In some parts of Arabia horses and cows are fed on boiled fish because that is cheaper than grass! In other parts of the country donkeys are fed on dates. Arabia has more sultans and princes than any other country of the same size and yet it is a land without a settled government. The people never meet one another without saying "Peace to you"; yet there has never been any peace over the whole land since Christ's birth or even since the days of Ishmael. Every one carries a weapon and yet there are very few wild animals. It is more dangerous to meet a Bedouin than a lion when you are a stranger on the road. The Arabs are a nation of robbers. Now you will wonder how we can also say that Orientals are the most hospitable of any people in the world for the Arabs are Orientals. And yet it is strictly true that these robbers are more hospitable, in a way, than you people of Western countries. They have a proverb which says that "Every stranger is an invited guest"; and another which says, "The guest while in the house is its lord." If an Arab gets after you to rob or kill you, it is only necessary to take refuge in his tent for safety. He is bound then, by the rules of Oriental hospitality, to treat you as his guest. But you must not stay there too long and you must be careful how you get away! You will find instances of this respect for the duty of hospitality all through the Bible story. It was in the earliest Bible times, as later and as now, a grievous sin to be inhospitable. The cradle of the Mohammedan religion is Arabia, and yet in no country are they more ignorant of their religion. How sad to think that when they do worship God they do it in such an ignorant and idolatrous way! In our next chapter we shall see more about this. Arabia has no national flag, no national hymn and no national feeling. Every one lives for himself and no one cares for his neighbour. This does not sound strange of robbers but it does of people who are so hospitable. This queer country we are about to visit together and talk over with each other. You will not grow weary by the way, we hope. If the desert tracks are long and tiresome through the following chapters, just refresh yourself in the oasis of a picture. III THE SQUARE-HOUSE WITH THE BLACK OVERCOAT You think I am making fun but it is really true that in western Arabia there is a house that always wears an overcoat. This is a large, square stone house without windows and with only one door to let in the light and the air; it is empty inside, although crowds gather around it as you see in the picture. Yet this house always has on an overcoat of black silk, very heavy and richly embroidered. Every year the old coat is taken off and a new one put on. A few days ago a Moslem pilgrim showed me a piece of the cloth of last year's overcoat and he was very proud of it. It was indeed a fine piece of heavy silk and the names of God and Mohammed were prettily woven into the cloth. This man had just come from visiting the square-house and I will tell you what he saw. The place he visited with hundreds and thousands of other pilgrims is called Mecca and the square-house is the _Beit Allah_ or house of God to all Mohammedans. It is also called the _Kaaba_, which is the Arabic word for a cube. The Moslems believe all sorts of foolish things about the Kaaba. They say Adam built it as soon as he fell down on the earth out of Paradise, and that Abraham repaired it after it had been ruined by the flood in the days of Noah. They even show a large white stone on which Abraham and Ishmael stood when they plastered the walls; the stone still bears the impress of Abraham's feet, they say. Did you ever hear such a topsy-turvy story? The building is about twenty-four cubits long and wide and nearly twenty cubits high. It has no ornaments or beauty except one rain-spout to carry the water off the flat roof; you can see it on the right side of the Kaaba on the picture. This spout is said to be of pure gold. In one corner of the building is a large black stone which is also an object of worship. The Mohammedans say it came down from heaven with Adam and was once pure white. By the many kisses of sinful worshippers it has turned black. Not only is it black but broken. For about three hundred years after Mohammed's death the stone remained imbedded in the walls of the Kaaba, but then some wild Arabs from the Persian Gulf came, sacked Mecca and stole the black stone. It was carried to Katif, a place near Bahrein, right across Arabia, and they kept it a long time until the people of Mecca paid a large sum of money and carried it back. On the long journey it must have fallen from the camel because, at present, it is cracked and the broken pieces are held together by a silver band. There once were a great many of these stone idols in the Kaaba, but Mohammed destroyed them all except this one when he became master of Mecca. [Illustration: THE SQUARE HOUSE WITH THE BLACK OVERCOAT.] At present the stone house is empty of idols and yet all the Moslems turn in the direction of this old heathen temple to pray. The cloth that covers it comes every year as a present from the Khedive of Egypt, who is a Mohammedan. It is very costly and is sent on a special camel, beautifully decked with trappings of gilt, and a large throng of pilgrims go along to escort the overcoat. When the wind stirs the heavy folds of cloth, the pious boys and girls of Mecca say it is the angels that watch around the Kaaba, whose wings lift the covering. It must be a wonderful sight to see thousands of Moslem pilgrims stand around this place and kneel and pray. Besides running around the Kaaba, kissing the black stone and drinking water from a holy well called _zemzem_, they have one day on which they sacrifice sheep or other animals. One curious custom on this day of sacrifice I must tell you of. It is called "stoning the great devil." Early in the morning thousands of pilgrims go to a place in the valley of Mina where there are three white pillars made of masonry; the first and largest is called the Great Devil. The pilgrims cast stones at this pillar. Each one must stand at the distance of not less than fifteen feet and say, as he throws seven pebbles: "In the name of God the Almighty I do this, and in hatred of the devil and his shame." The Moslems fail to realise that Satan is in the hearts of men and not behind a pillar, nor that he can be driven away with prayer better than by pebbles. For thirteen hundred years Moslems have come every year to Mecca, and gone away, with no one ever to tell them of the Son of God, the Saviour of the World. Thirteen hundred years! Don't you think it is time to go and tell them? And will you not pray that even this place may open its doors to Jesus Christ, and crown Him Lord of all? IV SABBACH-KUM BIL KHEIR! That is to say, "Good-morning!" And the Arabs in the picture do not add, "have you used Pears' Soap?" but, "have you had your cup of Mocha coffee?" Soap is a luxury in most parts of Arabia and the vast majority of its inhabitants never use it; millions would not know it if they saw it. Perhaps the old Sheikh, however, used a bit of soap to wash his hands and feet early before sunrise when he went to the mosque to pray. Now he has returned and sits in the coffee-shop ready to take a sip of coffee and "drink tobacco" from the long pipe. The Arabs always speak of _drinking_ tobacco when they mean to smoke; I suppose one reason is because they use the peculiar water-pipes with the long stems in which the smoke passes through the water and bubbles out to the mouth. Have you time to stop and study the picture with me? What a pretty window in the corner! The Arabs call a window _shibaak_, which means network, because their windows are very much like a fish-net. Glass is seldom used in Arabia except by Europeans and Arabs who have become civilised; and so the carpenter or joiner fits little round bars, one into the other, like marbles or beads on a string and the result is often very beautiful. Light and air come in (not to speak of clouds of dust) while no one can look through from the outside; and you know how afraid Arab girls and women are to show their faces to strangers. Under the arch is the open fireplace where the big coffee-pots and water-kettles simmer all day on a charcoal fire. The old man looks quite cheerful seated on his uncomfortable stool made of date-sticks. You will read later about our old friend the date-palm and how the tree is used for nearly every purpose. I wish I could show you how they take the thin branches and punch holes in them and then deftly, before you can count ninety, build together a chair or a bedstead. I have often slept soundly and safely on bedsteads made of these thin leaf-sticks no bigger around than a child's finger. The sticks are full of "spring" so one does not need a wire mattress, nor have I ever known one of them, if made honestly, to become a _folding bed_ under a restless sleeper as they say happens sometimes in New York hotels! Although the old man in our picture is waited on by the younger Arab (who is perhaps the keeper of the café), yet I know he is not rich. Do you notice his toil-worn hands and the patch on the shoulder of his long overcoat? I fancy too his pretty vest, so carefully buttoned by more than a dozen cloth buttons, is a little torn on one side; nor has he a fine girdle like the rich shopkeepers. [Illustration: SABBACH-KUM BIL KHEIR!] Extremes meet in the picture and three countries widely apart on the map are brought close together. Of course, you know the coffee is the real Yemen article, which coming first from Mocha on the Red Sea, is still called by that Arabian name. The curious pipe with its round bottom, carved head-piece and long stem, is used everywhere in Arabia and is generally called _"nargeelie,"_ which is the Indian name for cocoanut. The bowl of the pipe is in fact an empty cocoanut shell; the stem once grew in the jungle and perhaps tigers brushed past it; now it is pierced to draw smoke. The curious pipe is from India, the tobacco first came from America but the coffee is Arabian. Let us listen to the story of the cup of coffee: In a book published in 1566 by an Arab scholar on the virtues of coffee it is stated that a knowledge of coffee was first brought to Arabia from Abyssinia about the year 1400 by a pious man whose tomb is still venerated in Yemen. The knowledge of coffee spread from Yemen in south Arabia over the whole world. In 1690 Van Hoorne, a general of the Dutch East India company, received a few coffee seeds from the Arabs at Mocha and planted them in Batavia on the island of Java. In this way Mocha coffee has become the mother of Java and of all other kinds of coffee sold at your grocers'. Nothing can be more beautiful than the green hills and fertile gardens in the Arabian coffee country. The coffee berry grows on an evergreen tree of about eighteen feet high; its leaves are a beautiful dark, shining green and the blossom of the tree is pure white with a most delicate and fragrant odour. Each tree bears an enormous number of coffee-berries; a single tree is said to have yielded sixteen pounds! Arabia not only produces the finest coffee in the world, but I think the Arabs know how to prepare a good cup of coffee better than other peoples. The raw bean is roasted just before it is used and so keeps all its strength; it is _pounded_ fine, much finer than you can grind it, in a mortar, with an iron pestle; lastly two smelling herbs, _heyl_ and saffron are added when it is boiled just enough to give a flavour. Some fibres of palm bark are stuck into the spout of the coffee-pot to act as a strainer and then the clear brown liquid is poured into a tiny cup and handed to you in the coffee-shop. No wonder the Arab dervishes smack their lips over this, their only luxury. But how did the tobacco get into our picture? You can hunt up the story for yourselves in your school histories. Had not Sir Walter Raleigh in 1586 introduced the weed to the court of Queen Elizabeth from Virginia, our picture and social life in Arabia would be very different. The custom of puffing tobacco has spread like a prairie fire and it is now so common in the East that very few realise it was not always found there. There they are all together, an Indian pipe, Arabian coffee and American tobacco! How much faster and further tobacco has travelled than the Bible; how many people had begun to drink Mocha before Arabia had a missionary! But, of course, nothing can travel for nothing; and somebody must pay the travelling expenses. America pays many millions more for tobacco in a year than it pays for missionaries. It is not surprising, therefore, that all Arabians smoke and only a very few have ever heard of the Son of God, the Saviour of the world. As Jesus Himself said, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." When people learn to love missions as much and as often as they do a good cigar and a cup of coffee there will be no need of mite boxes. God hasten the day. V AT THE CORNER GROCERY It is not a very long distance from the Arab coffee-shop where we left our friend smoking, to the grocer. The streets are very narrow and unless we are very careful that camel will crowd us to the wall or those water-skins on the white donkey wet our clothes--see how they drip! Well, one turn more and here we are. The grocer in the picture on the next page is leaning on his elbow waiting for a customer. And if he keeps his groceries as free from flies and ants as he does his spotless white turban we will buy our day's supplies here. The shops in Arabia are not very large and they have no place for customers except outside. Sometimes there is a sort of raised seat or bench on which the purchaser sits when he bargains for something; but generally you have to stand up outside while the crowds push and the traffic goes on. One curious custom is that all the shops of one kind cluster close together in one street or section of the town. You will see for example in one street a long row of shops where they sell drugs and perfumery; in another place there are only hardware merchants; again a whole street of nothing but grocers. I think the reason is that Arabs love to bargain and to beat down prices and so it is easier to have all the merchants of one kind close together. At any rate this arrangement makes it quite convenient for the purchaser. Indeed it is becoming somewhat customary to group the shops in this way in some of your Western cities. Occidental civilisation can learn some things from the Orient! [Illustration: ARAB GROCER.] Our shopkeeper has a mixed lot of groceries in his shop; many things which you would find at your grocers' he has never heard of. Everything is topsy-turvy. Just fancy how strange to hang up the sugar in a row of cones on strings like sausages! Do you see them on the ceiling of the shop in our picture? That is the way white sugar comes wrapped from France and is sold in Arabia. A sugar _barrel_ would soon be full of ants in this country; but when it hangs up on a string the ants have a hard time getting it away. Maybe there is a suggestion here for your homes if you are troubled with ants. In those big Arab baskets the grocer keeps his carrots and other vegetables; carrots are white in Arabia and there are curious vegetables of which you have never heard. Do you see the bottles and tin boxes on his shelves? Those are for spices; pepper, cinnamon, nutmegs, curry-powder and such things of which Arab housewives are very fond. The big bowl on the left probably has olives in it or other kind of pickled vegetables. On the right you can see the big pair of old fashioned scales on which he weighs his wares. I hope he is an honest man, although I do not think he looks very honest, do you? The scale hangs true I have no doubt; but it is in the weights that deception lurks. In Arabia we can every day see illustrations of the words of Solomon in the book of Proverbs about "divers weights" and "false balances." The most of the shopkeepers do not have proper weights of iron or brass, but use ordinary cobblestones and pebbles. Only a few days ago I bought some walnuts and the grocer weighed them so many stones' weight! Do you know what a "stone" weight is. Maybe you had better look it up in your dictionary. That covered kettle near the scale-pans on top of the little box contains _semn_, which is the Arabic name for sheep's fat. You would hardly believe me if I told you what a lot of this greasy yellow stuff the boys and girls eat on their rice, and how much is used in an Arab kitchen. It is sold by weight, just as well as all other things, even _milk_ in Arabia. If we wait long enough you will see Fatimah and Mirjam and the other girls come with empty bowls to buy so many pennies' worth of grease. Do you notice that the shop has queer little doors on the lower part of the front opening? The other part of the shop is closed by a flap-door that does not show on the picture. This is hinged from the top and is used when the shop is open as a sort of blind to keep off the sun or the rain. When the shopkeeper leaves his shop for a half hour or so he hangs a sort of fish-net over the opening of his shop and never needs to lock it. This is a curious custom, and I have often wondered how the shops were safe from stealing boys or robbers in such cases. It is one more instance of how different the East is from the West. The shopkeepers generally close their shops at sunset, and only in a very few places are there people who buy and sell or go about to do shopping by lamplight. Our grocer on the corner has provided for emergencies, and the large Arabian lantern ought to light up all his little shop. Across the street is the place where they sell crockery. The salesman is out, but his boy, as you see, has taken the opportunity to eat some apples. I wonder whether he got them at the grocer's? [Illustration: ARAB BOY IN A CROCKERY SHOP. (Float this image to the right.)] His father sells water-jugs and jars made of porous earth. Oh what a blessing those jars are to all the people of this hot and dry country. We have no ice in Arabia and so no refrigerators; the wells are never very deep and the water comes a long distance. So if it were not for the crockery man and his water-jugs we could never drink _cold_ water. But just pour the water in one of these earthen pots and hang it in the wind and then in a few minutes the water gets cold. We missionaries always have such water-jars hanging or standing in our windows to catch the breeze. Perhaps this kind of water-cooler is very old, and Solomon himself looked at one when he wrote the words: "As cold waters to a thirsty soul so is good news from a far country." VI BLIND FATIMAH It was on a Sunday afternoon that I first met Blind Fatimah and greeted her with _Salaam aleikum_ and she answered _aleikum es salaam!_ "Peace be to you and on you be peace." I asked if she could read. She said she could "read by heart," but could not see anything. She at that time could repeat twenty-six chapters of the Koran, the sacred book of the Mohammedans. Now I think she can repeat it nearly all; it contains one hundred and fourteen chapters. Some are very short and others are very long; some parts of the book are very good, but most of it is a jumble of events and of things that never happened--all mixed up topsy-turvy. A slave woman was Fatimah's teacher and now she is helper in the school of this teacher. She is the prompter, and always begins each sentence of the recitation, and the other children follow on. If any mistakes are made, she will instantly correct them. She is a peculiar looking girl and she is not pretty. Her clothes consist of cast off garments given her by others. Her head is generally covered and wrapped up in a black muslin veil; then she has an _abba_ or Arabian cloak of very green-black cashmere; then under that a many coloured garment called a _thobe_; it is square in pattern with armholes and sleeves nearly a yard wide. The ends of these wide sleeves are deftly taken and thrown over the head to form a sort of tight-fitting cap. Underneath this garment is a kind of dressing gown with tight-fitting sleeves. Such is Fatimah's wardrobe. She wears no shoes, not even sandals. Would you like to walk in the hot sand with no covering for your feet? Sometimes I visit the school where Fatimah teaches the smaller girls A, B, C. It is a topsy-turvy school indeed. The object seems to be to make as much noise as possible; the pupils sit on the floor with a small stand or trestle (like a saw-buck!) in front of each one to hold their Korans out of which they read. The first pupil begins a sentence at the top of his, or her, voice and then in a sort of refrain it is taken up by all the others. The teacher sits outside the school very often sewing or preparing a meal or entertaining visitors; for the schoolhouse is an ordinary mat hut dwelling. If however a pupil makes a mistake in reading she hears instantly and corrects it. When the hours of prayer come around (the Moslems you know pray five times a day) lessons are dropped. One day I called at the school at the time of afternoon prayer. All the children had run down to the sea, to wash their faces and hands and feet, so as to be quite pure outwardly, when repeating Mohammed's prayers. In the accompanying picture of a Moslem boy praying you will see what those forms are and how much _form_ there is to go through. Blind Fatimah stood with her hands clasped, looking upward with those sightless eyes, her lips moving. Then she fell on her knees, with the little, thin hands spread out; then she bowed down until her forehead touched the earth, continuing in that position for a little time; then she got up, and with another upward look and motion of the lips, the devotions were ended. [Illustration: HOW A MOSLEM BOY PRAYS.] I prayed there, too, that her eyes might be opened to see Jesus as her own Saviour, and that she might know Him as the _Son of God_, and not merely as one of the many prophets mentioned in the Koran. It seemed such a sad sight to see this blind child, doubly blind because her religion is false, and she is resting on a false hope. She always listens when I tell her, or read to her about God, and Jesus Christ the Saviour. And if you would help together by your daily prayers, perhaps soon God will give the answer. Would it not be blessed for you and me if some day blind Fatimah should have opened eyes; not to see the date groves, and the sea, and the beautiful sunsets of Bahrein, but far more--to see Jesus' face and to follow Him by leading others to Him? "For thousands and thousands who wander and fall, Never heard of that heavenly home; I should like them to know there is room for them all, And that Jesus has bid them to come. I long for the joy of that glorious time, The sweetest and brightest and best, When the dear little children of every clime Shall crowd to His arms and be blest." VII DATES AND SUGAR-CANE This is the sweetest chapter in the book. The pictures are enough to make one's mouth water and give one an appetite for Arabian dates. I do not suppose there is a boy or girl in England or America that has not eaten the fruit of the Arabian palm tree; but how many of you know the taste of sugar-cane? In many parts of Arabia, especially at Busrah and along the river Tigris, you can see the sugar-cane sellers sit by the wayside and dispose of this Arabian stick-candy to the boys and girls in exchange for coppers. The woman in the picture has chosen the shelter of a date tree and beside the tall bundles of cane she has oranges for sale as well. The sugar-cane is cut into pieces and sold "by the knot"; that is, by the length of the stick from one knot to the next. It is not expensive and I have seen even the very poorest children suck their cane on the way home as happy as sugar can make them. The sugar-cane is a kind of grass but it grows to twice the height of a boy and is over two inches in circumference. The stems are smooth, shining and hard on the outside, but inside they are porous and the pores are full of sugar sap. The sugar-cane first came from India, but the Arabs spread its cultivation as far as Morocco and Sicily; so that it is no wonder that the word "sugar" itself comes from the Arabic. Yet it shows how ignorant the Arabs are to-day because, although they have sugar-cane, _their_ sugar nearly all comes from Europe. They do not know how to manufacture it and therefore eat the sugar-cane raw. [Illustration: WOMAN SELLING SUGAR-CANE.] Sweeter than sugar-cane and much more plentiful is the date. There is no place in all Arabia where you do not see the date palm growing, and seldom can you eat a meal in any part of the country but dates are part of the bill-of-fare. In fact thousands of people in Arabia have nothing but dates to eat from January to December! So plentiful are they that even donkeys and camels are fed on dates in some districts. Many of the dates you buy in your own country come from Arabia. On the best kind of dates which come in wooden boxes you will find Muscat or Busrah stamped to show from what place they were shipped. There are very many kinds of dates in Arabia, and only a very few sorts are sent abroad. Some of them are too delicate to stand the long voyage and others are found only in small quantities. I do not think any of the dates that reach America equal those we pick from the palm tree ourselves here in Arabia--no more than dried apple rings taste as good as ripe juicy sweet apples from the orchard. When the dates ripen in September they are picked, sorted, and then packed in layers by the Arab women and boys who get paid for this work. Large steamships are loaded down with these boxes and many of them leave Busrah every year with no other cargo than dates. [Illustration: DATES GROWING ON A DATE PALM.] The date tree is very beautiful. I think it is the most beautiful of all the palms. It is no wonder that a palm branch is the symbol of victory in the Bible and that the psalmist compares the life of a righteous man to a palm-tree! How straight and beautifully proportioned is the tall trunk of the tree. It is an evergreen and is always flourishing winter and summer. It is a lovely sight to see the huge clusters of ripening fruit, golden-yellow or reddish-brown, amid the bright green branches. Along the rivers in the north of Arabia, at Hassa and in Oman, date orchards stretch for miles and miles as far as you can see. Some of the Arabs have such large date gardens that they do not know the number of their trees. How do you suppose they climb the tree? The Arabs have no ladders and indeed it would be hard to make a ladder long enough to reach to the top of a tall palm tree. So they use a rope band which goes around the trunk of the tree and around their waist; it is shoved up little by little and the Arab puts his bare feet on the rough bark of the tree and so climbs up as easily as a monkey. The palm tree is perhaps the most useful tree in the world. Every part of it is used for something or other, and I do not see how Arabia could get along without palm trees. The fruit is prepared in many different ways for food. The date stones are used by the Arab children in playing checkers and other games on the smooth sand. They are also ground up into a coarse kind of meal and this is good cattle-food. The branches of the date tree are long and strong and thin just like a piece of rattan. From them the carpenters make beds, tables, chairs, cradles, bird-cages, reading-stands, boats, crates, kites and a dozen other useful things. The leaves are woven into baskets, mats, fans and string. From the bark excellent fibre makes rope of all sizes. Not a bit of the tree is wasted. Even the blossoms are used to make a kind of drink and the old musty fruit that cannot be eaten is made into date syrup or date vinegar. In one of the pictures you see the fire wood market at Busrah. The long branches you see are sold for kindling wood and they make a splendid fire. The heavier parts of the tree are also used for fuel and the donkeys are loaded with these date knots and date sticks in baskets. It is a busy scene and, what with braying of donkeys and shouting of the wood-merchants, there is enough noise too. [Illustration: FIRE WOOD MARKET, BUSRAH.] There is one more blessing that comes from the palm tree and which we have forgotten. That is shade. Arabia is a hot and dry country. The summer sun is much more piercing than in America and the summer is much longer. When you travel a long camel journey across the desert, oh how good it is to come to a grove of palm trees and rest! Such a place is called an _oasis_ and underneath the palms there are always springs of water. I can well understand how happy the children of Israel were after their journey in the desert, when they came to Elim where "there were twelve wells of water and threescore and ten palm trees." In summer time many of the town Arabs leave their houses in the city and go to camp out in the date-gardens to enjoy the cool shades. The Arab poets have written many poems in praise of their favourite tree and fruit, but none of them are so funny as these lines which Campbell wrote from Algiers where the date tree also flourishes and with which we will end this chapter: "Though my letter bears date as you view From the land of the date-bearing palm I will palm no more puns upon you." VIII THE SHEPHERD OF THE SEWING MACHINE In the blue waters of the Persian Gulf there lies a coral island called Bahrein. At a few hundred yards to the northeast of it is a still smaller island shaped like a pack-saddle, where palm trees and white coral rock houses are reflected in the salt water at high tide. The little island town is called Moharrek, that is, the "Burning Place," because it is very hot there in summer. After sailing across in a boat one day, and wending our way through a dirty bazar full of flies and Arabs, we were directed to the house of the man called "The Shepherd of the Sewing Machine." His real name is Mohammed bin Sooltaan, but nobody knows him by any other name or title than _Räee el karkhan_, which literally means shepherd of the sewing machine. Let me tell you his story and how he got that queer name. Years ago, as pilot on the native boats that sail from Bahrein to Bombay, Calcutta, Zanzibar and Jiddah, he had experience of a wider world than the little island where he was born. But the life was a hard one and his wages were small. Moreover, the coming of steamships up the Gulf took away the profit of the sailing craft, and so Mohammed fared from bad to worse. He loved an Arab lass with plaited, well-greased locks of hair and a pleasant face, but her father asked a larger dowry than he could ever pay. An Arab young man must always pay a good price to the father of his sweetheart before he is allowed to marry her. But this Mohammed was too poor to pay the price asked. What a queer topsy-turvy custom it is for a man to buy his wife just as he buys a horse or a camel! The Arabs often ask how much a wife costs in America and wonder that we are not allowed by the Christian laws to send away our wives and marry others. Mohammed could not stay at home so he once more went in a ship to Jiddah, the port to Mecca, where pilgrims from all the Moslem world exchange thought and money for bad bread and fanaticism. And yet even here the civilisation of the West tries to enter. Wandering through the bazars Mohammed for the first time saw a sewing machine, in the hands of an Indian tailor. A marvel to the sailor fisherman, indeed! Almost as great a miracle to him as the Koran. The more he looked the more he coveted, and he could not pass the place without reckoning up the possible profits of such an investment should he return with it to his native island. The result was that he forswore the sea and preferred another kind of wheel to that of the pilot. With many mutual _wallahs_ the bargain was concluded and the machine reached Bahrein. It was the first on the islands, and all the sheikhs came to see its marvellous build and wonderful work. Mohammed has a Western head on Eastern shoulders, and there was not a screw or tension from treadle to shuttle, which he did not learn the use of. It is unnecessary to state at the cost of how many broken needles he became proficient. Amid cries of _ajeeb, ajeeb_, the first Arab shirt was stitched together, and even the youngsters on the street imitated the whirrr-clic-whirrr of the machine. As for Mohammed, he sewed on, and while his sandalled feet worked the treadle his mind worked out a problem something like this: Three long-shirts a day and an _abba_, at one _kran_ per shirt and two for the abba, thirty-five krans per week, how long will it take to pay the dowry? An _abba_ is a large over-garment worn by both men and women in Arabia. It is like a cape or overcoat but has no sleeves nor buttons. The Arabs in Bahrein put a great deal of pretty embroidery work on these garments and some of them are worth twenty or thirty dollars. But the sewing is done very cheaply. A kran is a Persian coin worth about ten cents; can you figure out how much Mohammed earned in a month? The Shepherd of the Machine kept working away and when his hopes grew strong he sang at his work. In a few months he paid a visit to the Mullah (the Moslem priest or teacher), and that same night the Arab fiddles and drums rang out merry music around the palm-leaf hut of his beloved bride. But the music of the machine sounded still sweeter next morning. Daily bread, with rice, fish and dates, and on rare occasions even mutton, all came out of the machine. He loved the very iron of it and, as he told us, read a prayer over it every morning: _Bismillahi er rahman er raheem._ His was the only machine, and a small monopoly soon makes a capitalist. His palm branch hut was exchanged for a house of stone; and Allah blessed him greatly. No shepherd was ever more tender to his little lambs than Mohammed to the old machine. When we entered the house on our first visit, there stood the machine! Not much the worse for wear, and with "_Pfaff_. C. Theodosius, Constantinople," still legible on the nickel-plate. But the old machine had found a rival. By its side stood another make of machine which looked strangely familiar to American eyes. It was while comparing the machines and drinking Arab coffee that we learned from Mohammed why he prized the old one as better. "Wallah," he said, "I would not sell it for many times its original price. There is blessing in it, and all I have comes from that machine, praise be to Allah." And so we sipped his cups and heard his story and ceased to wonder why he was called the Shepherd of the Sewing machine. The shepherd has a brother who wants to learn English and goes to Bombay every year--but that is another story. There are many other sewing machines in Bahrein now, but Mohammed's was the first, and he introduced the others. Do you not think that he should be called the Christopher Columbus of Bahrein tailors? IX THE CHILDREN OF THE DESERT About one-third of Topsy-turvy Land is desert and is the home of those Arabs that wander about from place to place and are called nomads or _Bedouin_. The word Bedouin means a desert-dweller. But you must not think that a desert is a flat country covered with a deep layer of sand without trees or shrubs. Oh no! There are such deserts in Arabia too, but the greater part of what is called desert is much more attractive and is only _desert_ because it has no settled population and no villages. The soil is often very good and in springtime after the rains the whole of northern Arabia (where most of the nomads pitch their tents) is one vast prairie of wild flowers and green grass. The Arabs of the North are rich in flocks and herds. I am sure you can still find some who, like Job, have seven thousand sheep and three thousand camels and a very great household. They all live in tents and the tents of Arabia are not white and round like circus tents but jet black and square or oblong. You remember the Bible always speaks of the _black_ tents of Kedar. They are black because they are woven from goat's hair which is used also for their garments and is almost as good a waterproof covering as india rubber. But when you have to spend a long hot day under such a roof as I have done you feel sorry for the Arabs that they have no better protection against the blazing sun. Everything is home-made and clumsy, but shall I tell you what I have found? There is no warmer hospitality in all the wide world than in these tents of Kedar. A few weeks ago I spent a Sabbath day resting by the way in one of these tents. The women brought water to cool my head; a great bowl of camel's milk was our drink even before they asked our errand; and at night they killed a fat kid and made a guest meal fit for an epicure. The Arabs of the desert are more ignorant than those of the towns, but they are much kinder to strangers and treat their wives and children better. Their life is rather monotonous, but they enjoy it. Like the American Indians they prefer a tent to a house, and would rather change their home every day than settle down as farmers. When pasture fails for their flocks of sheep the chief gives notice and on the morrow the whole camp has moved away. Some tribes move every month and go for a long distance to find fresh pastures. [Illustration: ARAB RIDERS WITH LANCES.] The Bedouin are divided into many tribes and clans. Some of them are friendly to each other but nearly all are at war with one another all the year round. Robbery and murder are very frequent. Every one goes armed with a long spear or with a gun, and many carry a war club and a sword as well. The largest Arab tribes and the wealthiest are the _Anaeze_ and the _Shommar_. They have many fine horses. In the picture you see a group of them armed with their long spears. The spear of the leader is ornamented with a tuft of ostrich feathers; these spears are often over twelve feet long and have a sharp steel lance at the end. The Arabs are fond of games, especially galloping their horses and playing at war. They are very skillful riders and kind to their steeds; they do not spend much time in grooming them and they never use a whip and seldom a bit. Their bridle is like our halter strap, and the horse is so well trained that he needs no iron bit in his mouth. One of the most interesting of all the Arab tribes is called _the Suleibi_. They are despised by all the other Arabs and seem to be of a different race. The women of this tribe are remarkable for their beauty and the men for their skill as blacksmiths and tinkers. They are always sought after to do the tinkering for the Arabs of all other tribes. They have no camels or horses but ride little donkeys and dress in gazelle skins. Some people think that this tribe is a remnant of the Christian population of Arabia; they have many curious beliefs and their name means, "Those-of-the-Cross." Perhaps some day a missionary will bring them back to a true knowledge of the Crucified One. The nomads of Arabia are happy in springtime when there is enough grass for their flocks and the wells of the desert are full of water. But after the long summer drought there is often a great scarcity of food and even famine in many parts of Arabia. Then the nomads eat anything and drink the brackish water from the bottom of a mud pool with relish. In no country in the world is water so costly as in Arabia; nowhere is it so carefully used; an Arab never wastes a drop of water and looks surprised and pained when an European traveller rinses out a cup before drinking! The nomad Arabs eat locusts and wild honey as did John the Baptist. But I have also seen them eat the big lizards of the desert and the jerboas--a sort of desert rat. An Arab once stood amidst a circle of jewellers at Busrah and said: "On one occasion I had missed my way in the desert, and having no road-provision left, I had given myself up for lost, when all at once I found a bag of pearls. Never shall I forget that relish and delight so long as I mistook them for parched wheat; nor that bitterness and disappointment when I discovered that they were real pearls!" This story is told by a Persian poet and although it may not be true yet it teaches a lesson. To a hungry man a handful of wheat is better than all the pearls of the ocean. [Illustration: PEARL MERCHANTS.] In his tent the Arab is very lazy. His only occupation is feeding his horses or milking his camels. The Arab girls go out to take care of the flocks while the wife performs all the domestic duties. She grinds wheat in the hand-mill; kneads and bakes bread; makes butter by shaking the milk in a leather bag; fetches water in a skin; works at the loom and is busy all the time. The Arab smokes his pipe, drinks coffee and talks to his friends; unless he is on the march or on a robbery excursion his life seems very lazy. [Illustration: ARABIAN WATER-BOTTLE.] Scarcely any of the Bedouin can read, and they have neither schools nor mosques. The Bedouin sometimes say, "Mohammed's religion cannot have been intended for us; it demands washings, but we have no water; alms, but we have no money; pilgrimage to Mecca, but we are always wandering and God is everywhere." Yet outwardly they observe the Moslem religion of which they know so little. In our next chapter you will read how earnestly even the nomad children pray in the desert. And I believe God loves these sons of Ishmael and will yet bring them back to Abraham's faith. Don't you think so too? X NOORAH'S PRAYER For many days the sailing craft from Bahrein had been unloading Indian wares at the port of Ojeir on the Hassa coast, and for many hours the busy throng of Bedouin drivers and merchants and onlookers were loading the caravan, emphasising their task or their impatience with great oaths, almost as guttural and angry as the noise of the camels. At length, with the pious cry of _Tawakalna_, "we have trusted in God," they are off. A caravan is composed of companies, and while the whole host numbered seven hundred camels, with merchants and travellers and drivers, _our_ company from Ojeir to Hofhoof counted only six. There was Salih and Nasir, a second son of the desert, both from Riad; a poor unfortunate lad with stumpy hands and feet, who limped about on rag shoes and seemed quite happy; there was Noorah and her sister, and lastly, the missionary. But for the shuffling of the desert sand and the whack of a driving stick the caravan marched in silence. The sun shone full in our faces as it slowly sank in the west, its last rays coloured the clouds hanging over the lowlands of Hassa a bright red, and when it disappeared we heard the sheikhs of the companies, one after the other, call to prayer. Only a part of the caravan responded. The Turkish soldiers on horseback kept on their way; the most pious of the merchants had already urged their beasts ahead of the rest and had finished a duty that interfered with a speedy journey and the first choice of location at the night encampment; some excused themselves by quoting a Koran text, and others took no notice of the call. Not so the Bedouin child Noorah and her younger sister. They had trudged on foot four long hours, armed with sticks to urge on that lazy white camel, always loitering to snatch a bite of desert-thorn with his giant jaws. A short time before sunset I saw the two children mount the animal by climbing up its neck, as only Arabs can, but now, at call to prayer they devoutly slipped down. Hand in hand they ran ahead a short distance, shuffled aside some sand with their bare feet, rubbed some on their hands, (as do all pious Moslems in the absence of water), faced Mecca, and prayed. As they did then, so at sunrise and at noon and at four o'clock and sunset and when the evening star disappeared--five times a day--they prayed. It is not true, as is generally supposed, that women in Moslem lands do not pray. Only at Mecca, as far as I know, of all Arabia, are they allowed a place in the _public mosques_, but at home a larger per cent. observe the times of prayer than do the men. When Noorah had ended her prayer and resumed the task of belabouring the white camel, she turned to me with a question, _"Laish ma tesully anta?"_ which with Bedouin bluntness means, "_You_, why don't you pray?" The question set me musing half the night; not, I confess, about my own prayers, but about hers. Why did Noorah pray? What did Noorah pray? Did she understand that Prayer is the burden of a sigh, the falling of a tear, The upward glancing of the eye when only God is near, as well as the dead formalism of the mosque? How could I answer her question in a way that she might well understand? And if hers, too, was a sincere prayer, as I believe,--the prayer of an ignorant child of the desert,--did she pray words or thoughts? What do Noorah and her more than two million Bedouin sisters ask of God five times daily? Leaving out vain repetitions, this is what they say: "In the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate; Praise be to God who the two worlds made; Thee do we entreat and Thee do we supplicate; Lead us in the way the straight, The way of those whom Thou dost compassionate, Not of those on whom is hate Nor those that deviate. Amen." It is the first chapter of the Koran and is used by Moslems as we use the Lord's Prayer. The words are very beautiful I think, don't you? Whether Noorah understood what she asked I know not; but to me who saw and heard in the desert twilight, (as under like conditions to you), the prayer was full of pathos. The desert! where God is, and where but for His mercy and compassion death and solitude would reign alone; the desert, a world of its own kind, a sea of sand, with no life in it except the Living One, and over it only His canopy of stars--God of the two worlds! And to that God, than whom there is no other, and whom they ignorantly worship, these sons and daughters of outcast Ishmael bow their faces in the dust and five times daily entreat and supplicate to be led aright in the way of truth. They ask to be directed into the _straight_ way, but oh how crooked is the way of God which Mohammed taught in his book! Sadder still, what a crooked way it is that the Moslems walk! Impure words, lying lips, hands that steal and feet that run after cruelty--these are what children in Arabia possess. But I dare say that some of them are really sorry for their sins and when they pray like Noorah in the desert they want to have peace and pardon. Are they looking unconsciously perhaps for the footprints in the desert of One who said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life"? Alas, Noorah and her many sisters (your sisters, too) have never seen His beauty nor heard of His love! They do not know that the "way of those whom Thou dost compassionate" is the new and living way through Christ's cross and death. They are ignorant of the awful word, "He that believeth not on the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." Has God the Merciful then not heard Noorah's prayer? Will He not answer it? Is His mercy to these children of Abraham clean gone forever? How long they have waited and how many of the desert children are now sleeping in little desert graves! Do you not think God wants _you_ to carry the gospel to them and send them teachers to learn the way of Jesus? Think of Noorah's question, "_You_, why don't you pray?" Think of Christ's words, _"Go tell quickly."_ "ARABIA THE LOVED." There's a land since long neglected, There's a people still rejected, But of truth and grace elected, In His love for them. Softer than their night wind's fleeting, Richer than their starry tenting, Stronger than their sands protecting, Is His love for them. To the host of Islam's leading, To the slave in bondage bleeding, To the desert dweller pleading, Bring His love to them. Through the promise on God's pages, Through His work in history's stages, Through the cross that crowns the ages, Show His love to them. With the prayer that still availeth With the power that prevaileth, With the love that never faileth, Tell His love to them. Till the desert's sons now aliens, Till its tribes and their dominions, Till Arabia's raptured millions, Praise His love of them. --J.G.L. XI PICTURES WITH WORDS ONLY You already know many curious facts about the people of Topsy-turvy Land. Would you like to hear something about their language and their writing? The language of this land is very old, almost as old as its camels or its desert sands. The Moslems even go so far as to say that Adam and Eve spoke Arabic in Paradise and they say it is called the language of the angels. It is written from right to left just in the opposite way of this page of English writing. The Arabic alphabet has twenty-eight letters, all of which are considered consonants. There are marks put above and below the line to show the sounds of the vowels; just as we wrote the word _potato_ in our first chapter. Arabic grammar is much more difficult than English grammar, and even the boys who attend the big Arabic college of El Azhar in Cairo, Egypt, must find its study a bugbear. Just think of learning _fifteen_ conjugations instead of the much smaller number in Latin or Greek! The books used in Moslem schools would look very crude and dull to you who learnt your A, B, C, from an illustrated primer perhaps with coloured pictures. Strict Mohammedans do not allow their boys and girls to have pictures in their books, because they say all pictures are idols. And yet the love for beauty and the desire for ornament on the written or printed page was so strong with the Arabs that they began from the earliest times to use their alphabet to make arabesques. Arabesque is a big word and it really means an Arab picture. But these pictures of the Arabs (which you find on the arches of old mosques, in books and on tombstones) are ornaments or designs made out of the beautifully curved letters of the alphabet. The old Arab copyists and their sculptors wrote and carved the words of the Koran, or the names of God, etc., in all sorts of ways to make pictures _out of words only_, lest they break the law of their prophet. Here are two examples of how pictures can be made out of letters. You have all doubtless heard of a "wordless book"; and some of you have books without words and full of pictures. Here is a picture made out of the Arabic alphabet, and every curve and dot belongs to the words so curiously written. I copied them out of an Arabic treatise on penmanship, for you. The face is not at all pretty, and yet Moslem lads think it is very clever to bring this likeness of man out of the four names, _Allah, Mohammed, Ali_ and _Hassan_. These words you notice are written twice, both to the left and to the right. What a disgrace to the holy name of God to put that of three Arabs with it in a monograph! It is very sad to hear some Moslems say that they trust in _these_ people to intercede for them with God. If you have read what sinful lives these people led when they were the chief rulers in Arabia, you will almost agree with me in calling this first picture a Moslem idol. [Illustration: DESIGNS MADE OUT OF ARABIC WRITING.] There are many Moslems in Bahrein who have hanging up in their rooms these monograms or designs. One favourite I have often seen contains only five names: _Allah, Mohammed, Ali, Hassan and Hussein_. The people who make so much of these descendants of Mohammed are called _Shiahs_; the other Moslems who think they are more orthodox are called _Sunnites_. What do you think of our second picture? Is not the design very pretty for an embroidery pattern? The motto is written twice; once from the right and once _backward_ from the left, the same as in the other picture. The words are taken from the Koran and are as true as they are beautiful. _Man yattawakil ala Allah fa hooa hasbahoo_; which means, "Whoever trusts in God will find Him sufficient." That surely contradicts the other picture, does it not? And yet they are both from the same copy-book. There are many contradictions in the religion of Mohammed. I only hope that when Christ's gospel has conquered Arabia, the name of Jesus will be written on every mosque and in every heart; then contradiction will give way to the truth, and whoever trusts in Christ will find Him sufficient. Would it not be nice to make something pretty for use in the home or in the Sunday-school, and embroider the Arabic words on it? It would be a constant reminder of Arabia and of the beautiful motto--only an Arabic version of Paul's words, _Our sufficiency is of God._ Our last illustration to close this chapter is an example of Arabic every-day penmanship. It was written in the mountains of Oman, and is a letter from a poor cripple asking for a copy of the Psalms and other books. It was sent to our brother Peter J. Zwemer a year before he died, when he was on a missionary journey in Oman. [Illustration: ARABIC LETTER FROM A POOR CRIPPLE.] XII THE QUEER PENNIES OF OMAN AND OF HASSA If Jesus Himself, on one occasion, said, "Show me a penny," and preached a sermon from it, surely we may follow his example and learn something from these strange coins which you see in the pictures at the beginning and end of this chapter. The coin on this page comes from Oman, the home of the Arabian camel and one of its most fertile provinces. Perhaps some of the boys and girls can tell where Oman is and give its boundaries without looking in the geography, but I am sure none of you can read the inscription on the penny, and tell what it all means. Who is Fessul bin Turkee? What is an Imam? How much is one-quarter of an Anna? And when did this queer coin come fresh from the mint? [Illustration: OMAN COIN.] Let us begin at the beginning. Fessul bin Turkee, the present ruler of Oman, lives in a large, tumble-down old castle in Muscat, and his big red flag waves over the town every Friday, the Mohammedan Sabbath. He is not much better nor worse than his father, Turkee, or than other rulers in Arabia, but he certainly is far more enterprising, and is generally liked by the Arabs of Muscat. He is not however in all respects a merciful ruler. When I visited Muscat a few years ago this petty king had a real lion's den, like Nebuchadnezzar, and the story goes that he sometimes used it in the same way to get rid of his enemies. He once had a steam-launch, and even put up an electric light on the top of his castle, but both of these modern improvements came to grief. He also started a small ice factory to supply his household with cold water when the thermometer rises to over one hundred degrees; but the expense was too great and so the project melted away likewise. His last venture is more successful, and ever since the ice factory added a P to its sign-board and became a "pice factory," copper coins have been plentiful in Oman. A _pice_ is the Indian name for a small copper coin, and the Arabs borrowed the word, with many other words, from the Hindu traders. The Sultan has plenty of wives and horses and retainers; his castle is well-supplied with old cannon and modern rifles; huge coffee-pots pour out cheap hospitality every day; but withal I do not think he is very happy, for he is in debt and his power is not as extensive as it was once. Fessul's proper title is not Sultan, although he is often so called, but _Imam_, which signifies religious leader. It is the old title given to the political chiefs of Oman and Zanzibar. The word means one "who stands before," and was first used as a title for the leader of prayer in the mosques. In Oman the religious chiefs soon took hold of politics, and so the title has a significance now in this part of Arabia that it never had elsewhere. Let us get back to the penny. Its face (although being a Mohammedan coin it really has no human _face_ because their religion forbids pictures) bears an English as well as an Arabic inscription. The opposite side only has the Sultan's name in Arabic. On the side that has the English words is the legend: "Struck at Muscat in the year 1315." Yet the penny is only three years old, for the Moslems begin to date their years from the _Hegira_, or flight of their prophet from Mecca to Medina. This took place in the year 622 A.D. But we must also remember that their year is several days shorter than ours, because they have lunar months all of equal length and only 360 days in a year. How strange it is to read such an old date for such a recent year as 1899, since we count time from the birth of Christ! But you must remember that the False Prophet has had it all his own way in Arabia for thirteen hundred years, and that the missionaries in this country are very few indeed. Only for a very few years and in a very few places has Christ been preached. Now, however, even this queer little penny can bear witness to the fact that the gospel has come to Oman. It is worth one-quarter of an anna; there are sixteen annas in a rupee, and a rupee is worth about thirty-three cents. Not a big value, is it? But for four of these coins the poorest boy in Muscat can buy a complete gospel of Matthew. The shopkeeper must take in a great many of them, for last year one thousand four hundred and thirty-three such gospels and other portions of the Bible were sold in this part of Arabia and paid for by these coppers. Another interesting fact to notice is that part of the inscription on the coin is English. Coming events cast their shadows before. England's power in checking the cruel slave trade and rooting out piracy on the coasts of Arabia has made its influence felt. An English primer is sure to follow a penny with an English motto, and some day our mission will have a school at Muscat for Arab boys and girls, as well as for rescued slaves. Your American pennies and your prayers will help to bring it about. Moreover, do you not think that if they keep on buying gospels and reading them, Jesus Christ will some time be the true _Imam of Muscat and Oman_? [Illustration: HASSA COINS.] The other coin is the only _old_ coin that is at present current in Arabia, and I leave you to decide whether it is not the oddest and queerest penny you have ever seen. The first time I saw these queer blacksmith-nail coins was in 1893, when I made a visit to Hofhoof, the capital of the province of Hassa, in Eastern Arabia. The people used them, as we do pennies, for all small purchases, but I fear such a _pointed_ coin must have been harder on their pockets than our round coins. It is called the _Taweelah_, or long-bit, and consists of a small copper-bar of about an inch in length, split at one end and with the fissure slightly opened. The coin has neither date nor motto, although one can yet occasionally find silver coins of like shape with the Arabic motto: _"Honour to the sober man, dishonour to the ambitious."_ The coin, although it has no date, was undoubtedly made by one of the Carmathian rulers about the year 920 A.D. This was more than five hundred years before Columbus discovered America! The Carmathians were a very fanatical sect of Moslems. You remember reading in chapter three how they took the black stone from Mecca? Well, these people had this province as the centre of their power and here they struck these peculiar coins. I have heard it said that they were so opposed to images and faces on money that their leader devised this long bar-like shape for his coins to prevent any one from making images on them! At any rate the Carmathians were very brave warriors. When Abu Tahir, their first leader, attacked Bagdad with only 500 horsemen he was met by a messenger from the city saying that 30,000 soldiers were guarding the gates. "Yes," said Abu Tahir, "but among them all there are not three such as these." At the same instant he turned to three of his companions commanding one to plunge a dagger into his own breast, another to leap into the rushing Tigris river and the third to cast himself down a precipice. They obeyed without a murmur. "Relate," continued the general, "what you have just seen; before evening your leader shall be chained among my dogs." No wonder that with such absolute obedience, the Carmathians terrified all Arabia with their army. As I handle their old coins and think of the past, I sometimes wonder how much Our Great Captain, Christ Jesus would accomplish had He soldiers equally obedient and brave as did the Carmathian general, in redeeming Arabia from its long darkness and bloodshed. It is nineteen hundred years ago that He commanded us: "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel." But even now there is no one preaching the gospel in Hassa nor in all the interior of Arabia. Why? XIII ARAB BABIES AND THEIR MOTHERS An Arab baby is such a funny little creature! In Christian lands babies, as soon as possible, are given a warm bath and dressed with comfortable clothing. But in Arabia the babies are not washed for many days, only rubbed over with a brown powder and their tiny eyelids painted round with collyrium. They are wound up in a piece of calico and tied up with a string, just like a package of sugar. Their arms are fastened by the bandage so that they cannot possibly move them. The Arab mothers say that if the arms and legs of babies were left hanging loose the poor things would never sleep. A small, tight bonnet for the head completes the baby's wardrobe. A few blue beads or buttons are sewn on the front of this cap to keep off the evil-eye, for Moslem women all believe that if a stranger looks at a baby it may turn sick and die. On the day when the baby is named a sacrifice is slain and eaten and silver offerings are given to the poor, equal to the weight of hair on the infant's head. The poor baby's hair is all shaved off to be weighed in the balance. Poor people who cannot afford this offering omit the custom. Charms are placed on the arms or around the neck of the child. A few verses from the Koran are written out and put in a leather or silver case and also tied around the arm or neck of the baby. If the child shows signs of illness the mother makes it swallow some of the Koran. That is, a portion is written out and the ink is washed off with water and this dirty water is taken by the patient. A prescription was sent to me once when I was ill by a Moslem _mullah_, or teacher, of this character and he was quite certain I would recover if I drank it. I am glad to say I got better without the ink medicine. [Illustration: DATE-STICK CRADLE.] When the baby is forty days old and has received its name a new date-stick cradle is triumphantly brought home from the market and the new baby placed in it. And then Master or Miss Arab will get such a violent rocking that no Christian baby could stand. The ground is uneven, for there are no wooden floors in Arabia, and the rockers are nearly straight so that you can imagine it is not the pleasantest thing in the world to be rocked in an Arab cradle. In the picture you can see just what a date-stick cradle is like. Arab babies cry a great deal; what with sand storms and flies and other insects they generally have sore eyes and apparently need strong treatment to make them quiet and give their mothers and sisters time to grind the wheat and churn the butter. Everything is made fresh each day in an Arab household. The rice must be cooked for the daily meal, the wheat ground for bread, and the milk put into the leather churn. These people have no ice chest, not even cupboards, many of them, so the coffee is freshly roasted and pounded in a mortar for breakfast. The flour is taken to the hand-mill and butter comes out of the churn every day fresh. Then the mother will have to draw the daily supply of water and wash the few clothes at the well. The better classes have their slaves to do the hard work but the Bedouin women and the poor have to do all the toil and never get a rest. Rich and poor are alike in not having any intellectual pleasures. Few can read and even those who can read, are able to read only the Koran and the Moslem traditions. The children have no primers or picture-books, and no Arab mother ever has a newspaper or a magazine. She has never heard of such things. Arab women do not know anything of the many interests and pleasures that occupy the time of women in Christian lands. [Illustration: WOMEN GRINDING AT THE MILL.] Would you like to know how they make bread in Arabia? First the wheat is sifted and cleaned and then it is put into one of the hand-mills. It consists of an upper and nether millstone with a hole in the upper one and a wooden handle. Two women usually sit and grind because the stone is heavy and they love to talk while they work. One swings it half way and the other pulls it around. Then the coarse flour is taken out and put into a bowl with water and salt and mixed to the right consistency. A piece of this dough is then taken between the hands and gradually beaten until it is about the thickness of a book cover and twelve inches in diameter--a round, flat cake of dough. The oven is usually under ground and is shaped like a large jar with the mouth above the ground a little. A fire is built _inside_ the oven and when the sides of the oven are quite hot the fire is allowed to die out. Then the large pan cakes of bread are deftly clapped on to the side of the oven until the space is covered and one by one the cakes are taken out when done. In some houses they have a shallow oval pan which is placed over an open fire and on this the cakes are baked. The pan is put on the fire upside down, so even here we are again in Topsy-turvy Land. Twenty or thirty of these flat loaves are baked at one time, for a hungry Arab can eat five or six at one meal. [Illustration: BEDOUIN WOMEN EATING THEIR BREAKFAST.] Now the men come in to eat the food that the housewife has prepared. With a short prayer called _bismillah_ they begin and then shove the rice and meat or the bread and gravy into their mouths as fast as they can. Whatever is left when the men get through is for the women. You can see a group of Arab women in the picture eating their meal from one common dish in front of their tent. They use their hands instead of spoons or forks but get along very well and always wash before and after their simple meal. Now the women always have to wait on their husbands and eat by themselves. When things get right side up in this dark land we hope to see the whole family sitting down together and taking their meal with joy and thanksgiving. XIV BOAT-BUILDERS AND CARPENTERS Sinbad the sailor died long ago but the sea he sailed is still called the Persian Gulf and is just as full of curious islands as it was in his time. The boats are also just like Sinbad's and the sailors sing the same songs, I think, for there are very few changes in the almost changeless East. The Bahrein harbour-boat is built on the islands, out of timber from India and masts from Ceylon. But the sailcloth and the ropes are made on this our island home. All boats of this kind carry a good lot of passengers, draw very little water and are fast sailing craft; so that even the American boy whose father owns a yacht would not speak with contempt of one of these boats. In fact I have heard English sea captains who had drunk salt water for years say that they never saw better harbour boats in a storm than these of Bahrein. [Illustration: CARGO BOATS, BAHREIN.] In another kind of boat the pearl-divers of the Gulf go out to their hard toil and costly labour. One of them costs about four hundred _rupees_, that is about one hundred and thirty dollars. You do not think that is dear, do you, for a boat that holds a crew of twenty? But the cost of diving for pearls is not in the boat or the apparatus; it costs lives. Many of the divers are eaten by sharks before they return with the year's pearl harvest; others lose limbs and health. I wish you could see the odd shaped oars the Arabs use in these boats. They consist of a round pole with a sort of barrel-head or spoon shaped board tied to one end. The boat builders always use twine and rope rather than nails or screws to put their boats together. The boys of Bahrein can make beautiful sailing boats to play with out of bits of date-stick and strings. [Illustration: RIVER BOAT, BUSRAH.] Each fishing boat has a sort of figure-head and this is generally covered with the skin of a sheep or goat. This animal is sacrificed on the day when the boat is first launched, just as we give the boat a name and put flags on it. It is a very old custom to offer a blood sacrifice when a boat is first put into the water. Not only in the villages on the coasts of the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf are there boat builders and sailors; Arabia has two large rivers that help to make its northern boundary and they are highways of traffic. Our picture shows a river boat on the canal at Busrah. It goes the long journey from Busrah to Bagdad over five hundred miles or even to Hillah and the other towns on the Euphrates river. This kind of boat has a cabin in the bow and can carry a large cargo of wheat or wool. It sails by all the interesting country which was once the home of Abraham and is still called Mesopotamia. The largest boats used by the Arabs are called _dhows_ or _buggalows_. You will hear something more about these boats in the chapter on the slave trade. The carpenters of Arabia, like the boat builders, work in a very old-fashioned way. But they are much less skillful in their work. You often see well-built boats but never a well-made door or a window that shuts properly. Perhaps the fault is with their tools and perhaps they are not as skillful as they once were in using them. The Arab carpenter uses no bench or vise; he squats upon the ground in the shade of some old building or tree and carries all his tools in a small basket with him. He has four hands instead of the two hands of an American carpenter, for his feet are bare and he can work as well with his toes as you can with your fingers. It is wonderful to see how an Arab carpenter can hold a board with his toes while his hands are busy sawing or planing it! I never see one of these carpenters using his toes so cleverly without thinking that we who wear shoes and stockings and only use our feet for walking have lost one of the powers that the Arabs still possess. A carpenter's handsome handiwork in Arabia should be called his _toe_some _toey_-work; don't you think so? In the picture at the end of this chapter you see an Arab carpenter's tools. His saw is exactly opposite to an ordinary saw as the teeth all point the wrong way! But you know he _pulls_ the tool so it is all right. The plane has four handles instead of one. The gimlet is like ours but instead of a brace and bit to make holes, the Arab uses a fiddle-string stretched on a bow which he twists once or twice around his borer, or auger-bit. Then he fiddles away until he has made a hole. [Illustration: SAWING A BEAM.] It is very strange to see two Arab carpenters sawing a beam as you find them in the picture. Time is not valuable in the East because the days are long and life is easy and the people are never in a hurry. Never do anything to-day that can be done to-morrow is their motto. So they spend a half hour in fixing the beam on a tripod; then they pull and push and push and pull the great clumsy saw blade up and down and in an hour or so the beam is cut in two. What would such carpenters say if they were to visit an American sawmill and see the gang-saw cut six boards out of a log at once just as easy as your mother cuts a cheese? Arabia and its carpenters are very far behind us in civilisation. The whole country is in need of schools and industrial missions so that the Arab boys may learn to handle tools and make furniture and build houses. [Illustration: AN ARAB CARPENTER'S TOOLS.] In America there is hardly a boy living but he can drive a nail and saw off a board and put up a shelf. In Arabia only carpenters' sons can do these things; the ordinary boy does not even know how to use a jack-knife; he never had one. A short definition of Arabia would be "a land without tools." Ritter, the great geographer, calls Arabia "the anti-industrial centre of the world," which is only the same definition in other words. XV ARABIC PROVERBS AND ARABIC HUMOUR The people of Topsy-turvy Land, like all orientals, are very fond of proverbs and short, bright sayings. You know that even to-day there are men who go about in the coffee shops of Arabia to tell stories, just as you have read in the Arabian Nights. Some of their stories are very interesting and some of their proverbs are wise. Others are not interesting and many of their stories are too bad to repeat. Even some of their proverbs bear the mark of their topsy-turvy religion and are only half true. Judge them for yourself. Here are fifty examples; which do you think is the best proverb among them? Are they all good? First seek your neighbour, then build your house. First get a companion, then go on the road. Whoever dies in a strange land, dies a martyr. When the judge is oppressive, the very air is, too. Don't cut your head off with your tongue. Keep your dog hungry and he will follow you. Leave off sin, then ask forgiveness. Every horse knows its rider. Talk is feminine, but a good answer is masculine. With little food a bed tastes good. A trotting dog is better than a sleeping lion. Every girl is beautiful in her father's eyes. His tongue is sweeter than dates but his hands are as hard as sticks. There is no perfume after the wedding. Clouds do not fear the barking of dogs. A bird catches a bird. Poverty is the mother of deceptions. The fruit of haste is repentance. That man is like the _Kaaba_; he goes nowhere but every one comes to him. The tongue of a fool is the key to his destruction. The needle clothes others but is itself naked. If the owl were game to eat, the gunner would not have passed by the ruined castle. Happy is the man whose enemy is wise. Time is stingy of honour. The best generosity is quick. If your neighbour is honey, don't lick him all up. If you don't know a man's parents look at his appearance. What a strange world if all wool were red! Fall but don't bawl. Your enemy will love you when the ass becomes a doctor. Wait, donkey, till the grass grows. A loaned garment is not warm. He is a hard man; his name is Rock, son of a Cliff. The oppression of a cat is better than the justice of a rat. While I was fishing, I was caught. A blacksmith came to shoe the Pasha's horse and a frog in the pond stuck out her foot too. One nettle seed will ruin a garden. Who speaks the whole truth will get a broken head. What's the good of a house without food? Ask experience but don't neglect the doctor. She wears seven veils but has no modesty. He fasted a year and breakfasted on an onion. A false friend is an open enemy. They gave me no food, but the smoke from their kitchen blinded me. When the lion is away, the hyenas play. They said to the blind man, throw away your stick; he replied, why desert an old friend? Haste is of the devil; deliberation, of God. They put the dog's tail in the press forty years, and when it came out it still had a curl. Lucky days do not come in a bunch. Look for a thing where you lost it. Some of these resemble our own proverbs and others may perplex you at first. Of course they are all better in Arabic than in the translation. The people of Arabia seldom or never engage in practical jokes, but they are often very witty in their remarks. The Caliph Mansur once met an Arab on the desert and said to him: "Give thanks to God who has caused the plague to cease that ravaged thy country." "God is too good," the Arab answered, "to punish us with two such scourges at the same time as the plague and thy government." An Arab poet sent his book to a famous author. "Dost thou want fame?" said the latter, "then hang thy book up in the market-place where all can see it." "But how will they know the author?" "Why, just hang yourself close to the book!" Here is another story that is told about a Moslem preacher. One Friday when the people were gathered in the mosque to pray and to hear the sermon, he got up in the pulpit and asked the audience if they knew what he intended to preach about. "No," they replied. "Well, then, I shall not tell you," and he stepped down. The next Friday he asked the same question, and now, taught by experience, they answered: "Yes, we know." "Well, then, I need not tell you," and again he stepped down. The third Friday when the same question was put, the people said, "Some of us know and some don't know." "In that case," said the preacher-wag, "let those of you who know tell those that don't know." And again there was no sermon. And now to close this chapter here is a very topsy-turvy story with a puzzle in it: The Arabs relate that when the prophet Jonah fled from Joppa to Tarshish, there were thirty passengers, all told, in the ship. The storm grew very fierce, and out of fear, the captain determined to throw half the crew overboard, that is, fifteen men. But he knew that fifteen of the thirty were true believers, and fifteen were infidels, and among them, Jonah also. To avoid suspicion and accomplish his purpose he put the thirty men all in a row in such a way that by counting out every ninth man, the believers alone remained and the unbelievers were all of them one by one cast into the sea. This is the way he arranged them; every _dot_ stands for an _unbeliever_, and the strokes for believers--thirty altogether. [Illustration: PUZZLE OF THE THIRTY MEN.] You begin to count from the left, as the captain did, and if you mark out every ninth man you can keep on counting out the ninth men until only upright strokes are left. From your knowledge of arithmetic, can you tell me the reason of this puzzle? The Arabs remember the puzzle by some verses in which every dotted letter stands for an unbeliever and those that have no dots stand for Moslems. You see that even the story of Jonah and the whale is topsy-turvy out in Arabia! XVI GOLD, FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH In olden times Arabia was a much more important country than it is to-day. Before there were large seagoing ships, all the trade between India, Persia, even China, on the east, and Egypt on the west, was carried on camels. The caravans at that time used to cross Arabia in all directions, and the men who drove these camel-trains grew wealthy, as railroad magnates do to-day. We read about this early traffic on these highways of the desert in the Old Testament as well as in the old Greek histories. The province of Yemen was celebrated for its wealth and civilisation as early as the time of Solomon. It was then called Sheba and the old capital was called Marib, a little northeast of the present city of Sanaa. There are still many extensive ruins and inscriptions which testify to the height of their civilisation. We read of one of the queens of Sheba (the Arabs say she was named _Bilkis_) who came to prove Solomon with hard questions. She came with a large caravan of camels bearing spices and gold in abundance; her present to Solomon consisted of "an hundred and twenty talents of gold, and of spices great abundance, and precious stones." Gold is no longer found in Arabia but it was undoubtedly once very plentiful there. All the old writers speak of Arabia as a-gold country. One of the Greek geographers speaks of a stream in which large nuggets of gold were found. Some people think Ophir was in Arabia. However that may be, the traveller Burton explored the northwestern part of the peninsula and found old mines and even traces of gold dust. If Job lived in the land of Midian we can well understand how he could describe mining operations so well as he does in the twenty-eighth chapter of his book. [Illustration: BRANCH OF INCENSE TREE.] Frankincense and myrrh were also carried across Arabia by the caravans, and both of these precious gums came from Arabia itself and are still found there. One of the oldest articles of commerce was incense. The gum was used in sacrifices and in all the heathen temple worship as well as by the Jews in their worship. One thousand talents' weight of frankincense was brought every year to Darius, the Persian king, as tribute from Arabia. The present incense country is southern Arabia, especially Hadramaut. Here the incense tree (of which you see a small branch in the picture) grows. The young trees are cut with a knife, and from the incisions made in the bark a milk-like juice comes out. When it has had time to harden, the large clear globules are scraped off into baskets and the inferior kind that has run down the bark is collected separately. It is shipped from Arabia to Bombay or goes out from Aden and still commands a good price. In some Roman Catholic churches this incense is burnt every Sunday and if you will go to a large druggist he may be able to show you pieces of Arabian incense. Myrrh and frankincense are frequently mentioned together. Both are sweet-smelling gums and both came originally from Arabia. According to a Greek legend, Myrrha was the daughter of one of the kings of Cyprus who angered her father and when he attempted to stab her, fled to Arabia. Here she was changed into a tree called myrrh! A few of these trees are still found in Yemen, but myrrh is not at all as plentiful as it once was in Arabia. It is a low, thorny, ragged-looking tree with bright green leaves. The gum exudes from cracks in the bark near the root of the plant. When dry it is of a rich brown colour and has a bitter taste. The word "myrrh" in Arabic means bitter, and I think that is the origin of the name given to the tree and not the foolish story of the Greek mythology. You must look up all the references in the Bible to myrrh. I wonder whether the myrrh which Nicodemus used to embalm the body of our Saviour for His burial came from Arabia? In Matthew's gospel we read of the wise men who came from the East to worship Jesus. "And when they had opened their treasures they presented unto Him gifts; gold and frankincense and myrrh." Do you not think that these wise men came from Arabia, even as the queen of Sheba did, to see the king of the Jews? Perhaps Isaiah prophesied of their coming when he wrote concerning Arabia: "The multitude of camels shall cover thee the dromedaries of Midian and Ephah; all they from Sheba shall come: they shall bring gold and incense; and they shall shew forth the praises of the Lord." At any rate we are quite sure that the frankincense they brought came from Arabia. There is a great deal in the Bible about this country and there are many beautiful promises for the redemption of its people. Arabs were present at Pentecost and the first missionary to Arabia was the Apostle Paul. God has not forgotten His promises and we must all pray that soon they may be fulfilled. No one has yet been to tell the children of Hadramaut, who gather the incense-gum, the story of Jesus' birth and of His death on the cross. There is not a single missionary in all that country; no one has been to tell the news that the Babe of Bethlehem is the King of Glory. "Thou who in a manger Once hast lowly lain, Who dost now in glory O'er all kingdoms reign, Gather in the heathen Who in lands afar Ne'er have see the brightness Of Thy guiding star." XVII SLAVES AND SLAVE TRADERS The Arabs who in past ages were the merchants of the Orient in gold, frankincense and myrrh, both then and now traded in slaves also. And the cruel trade is not yet ended. Would you like to hear about some boys who have darker skins than yours, and darker hearts, because they do not know the Lord Jesus as their own Saviour? Well, these poor little boys were stolen from their mothers and fathers by wicked men called Arabs, who go from Arabia to Africa in boats to steal boys and girls and bring them here to sell them. Each boy is sold for nearly ten pounds ($50). These men know it is wrong in their hearts, but you see what a lot of money they make! What does St. Paul say? "The _love_ of money is the root of all evil." And then the religion of the Arab permits him to do this work of stealing and selling boys and girls. One night about two or three years ago, just as the sun was setting, some little black boys were playing and fishing near the water on the coast of Zanzibar, in East Africa; a man came up to them and offered them some dates. Little black _and white_ boys are always ready to eat, are they not? These boys took the dates and while they were eating, the man threw a cloth over their heads and carried them off to a boat standing near. The Arabs caught a great many in this way, and when the boat had as many as it could carry they moved away and began to travel towards Arabia. The poor children were kept in the bottom of the boat, all huddled together, and given very little to eat and drink. Sometimes the sea was rough and they were sick, so altogether their voyage in an open boat was not a pleasant one. But "Some One" was taking notice of these children and He was going to deliver them. Do _you_ know who was watching over them? After many days at sea the boat came near Muscat. A servant of the British Consul saw the boat and knew there were slaves in it. Then the Consul got ready in a small boat and went after the big one. They had to follow nearly all night and at last overtook the slave-dhow. The Consul pulled alongside in a Bedden (native boat) and demanded the firearms of the Arabs. Then he bound them and put his own sailors on board, and brought the precious cargo of souls into Muscat harbour. [Illustration: SLAVE GIRL IN ARABIA.] The owner of the slave-dhow was sent to prison, and the boys and girls were given away to Christian people to train, the missionary in Muscat getting the largest share. This was the origin of the rescued-slave school at Muscat. Other slaves are caught from time to time and liberated. Sometimes they are sent to Bombay or other places in India; a large number were once liberated at Aden and are now in a school at Lovedale in Africa. When these poor slave children first come from the slave ships they are very ignorant and almost like wild animals. They need to learn everything, and even their language is of little use to them, as they need to learn Arabic before they can get along in Arabia. The Muscat boys first learned English from the missionary, but it was not easy for them. They only knew a few words when I first went to Muscat. For instance, they called all lights, such as lamps, candles, etc., _fire_. Well, one night we were sitting on the verandah with the lamp, reading, and Suliman came and said _"big fire!"_ We jumped up and said "where?" Looking all around we could not see a sign of fire. Then he said, "big fire on table." We ran into the dining-room--still no fire. Suliman then pointed to the lamp and said again "big fire"; so we learned by that time he wanted the lamp for the table, as dinner was ready. [Illustration: LIBERATED SLAVES AT BAHREIN.] Would you like to hear how a day was spent in this Muscat school when the boys were beginning to learn? Now the boys are all big and have scattered; they are working as servants in different places and some are learning a trade. But here is a description of the early days of their training: "We are up before dawn almost, and yet the boys are up before us, and have taken in their mats (beds), and are splashing about in the big cement bath in the yard. They do not use towels; the sun soon dries the skin, and then they dress with one article only, a _wazeera,_ a piece of cloth. After the bath they clean up the schoolroom, sweep the yard; then they eat bread and dates and drink water. When the meal is finished all the boys wash their hands and put on their coats to come up-stairs. See how nicely they march forward, two and two, just like the animals going into Noah's Ark. They _halt_ in front of the harmonium 'single file'--'face about'--'toes to line!' Now we are ready for prayers. Look, boys and girls, how quietly these black boys stand; now we are going to sing:' 'Jesus loves me, this I know.' They love the singing, and all make as much noise as possible. Singing finished, we read a short passage of Scripture, and tell very simply how Jesus loved them and died for them. They are beginning to learn about God and who the Lord Jesus is. One morning I held up the Bible and asked them, 'What is this?' "They answered, 'God's Book.' "'And what do we read about in God's Book?' "They all answered, 'The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want.' I had been teaching them this Psalm, but I did not know how well they knew it; it was a nice answer, do not you think so? After the scripture lesson we kneel and pray, all the boys repeating, 'O God, wash me from all my sins in the blood of my Saviour, and I shall be whiter than snow; give me Thy Holy Spirit, for Jesus' sake. Amen.' Will you ask God to make the boys pray this prayer from their hearts? You see they are only just beginning to learn about God. Before they came to us they were quite heathen. Prayer ended we all march into another room,--you may come too, and begin lessons. The big boys are learning sentences now; the little ones are still at A, B, C, 1, 2, 3. At the end of two hours of spelling, reading and writing, a little simple drill and the morning school is ended. Some of the boys help prepare their fish and rice for dinner, and others make baskets. At three o'clock all march up again for sewing. And let me tell you a secret; the smallest boy of all sews the neatest. After this the boys get ready to go for a bath in the sea, or for a walk. When we return we have evening prayers, and then the boys eat their supper of rice and fish, take their mats into the garden and go to sleep." That was the way in which eighteen rescued slave boys began to live a life with more light, and therefore also more responsibility than their former life as savage children in Africa. But what of the thousands who are _not_ rescued, but are taken to places along the coast of Arabia and sold? Their lot is miserable. In Mecca there is a slave market where boys and girls are sold to the highest bidder. At Sur, in South Arabia, there are still many Arabs who make money by buying and selling poor negro children. Only last month a little negro lad called "Diamond" told me how he had been captured and sold to a merchant in Persia. I am very glad that I can tell you that the little lad escaped to a British ship and is now free. A writer who travelled in the Red Sea says that he passed hundreds of slave-dhows. What a lot of misery that means; not only misery to the parents of these stolen children in Africa, but to the children themselves. There may be many slaves in Arabia who get enough to eat and have good clothing to wear, but they always remain slaves at the best, and are taught a false religion by their masters. I think dearly all of them were happier at home in Africa than in dark Arabia. It is hard to love the cruel slave trader, is it not? Yet Jesus told us to "love our enemies." The way to root out the slave trade is to evangelise the slave trader. The entire west coast of Arabia has not a single missionary; no wonder that here the slave trade is carried on without hindrance! Will you not pray for western Arabia, and also for the Arab slave dealers that God may soften their hearts and make them stop their bad work? And will not all the girls pray for their enslaved black sisters in Arabia, whose lot is very miserable? XVIII ABOUT SOME LITTLE MISSIONARIES Some little missionaries came to Arabia a few years before any of the American missionaries did, and have been coming ever since. Most of them were born in a country not far from Arabia, and yet only one of them visited Arabia before Mohammed was born. Although they never write reports of their work in the papers, yet I have seen a few splendid little accounts of their work written on tablets of flesh with tears for ink. It is just because their work is done so much in secret and in out-of-the-way places, that they are generally overlooked and often underestimated. They receive only bare support and no salary, and get along in the most self-denying way by fasting and living all together, packed like herring in a dark, close room, except when they go out into the sunshine on their journeys. Most of them came out in the steerage of the big ships from London, but none of them were seasick at all throughout the entire voyage. They do not go about two and two unless it is that one of the old ones goes hand in hand with a younger brother for support. Generally a score or more travel together. They never complain of being tired or discouraged, and never get fever or cholera, although I have talked and slept with them at Bahrein when I had fever myself. Never yet has one of them died on a sick-bed, although they often hide away and disappear for months. On one or two occasions I have heard of a small company of them being burned at the stake, but I was told that not a groan escaped from their lips, nor were their companions frightened the least bit. With my own eyes I have seen one or two of them torn asunder and trampled upon by those who hate Jesus Christ and His kingdom and His little missionaries. Yet the only sound to be heard was the blasphemies of their persecutors, who could not answer them in any other way. It is very strange indeed, that when once one or two of them get acclimatised and learn the language, they are bound to their work by so many tiny cords of love that they seldom fall apart from their work or fall out one with the other. There are more than sixty different names and ages among them, and yet they all have one family accent. Some of them are medical missionaries and can soothe and heal even broken hearts and prevent broken heads. There are two ladies among them, but they seldom go about alone, and, especially in Arabia, the men do most of the preaching. Most of them are evangelists or apostles and teachers. And their enterprise and push! why one of them told me the other day that he wanted _"to preach the gospel in the regions beyond"_ Mecca, and that even there _"every knee should bow to Jesus."_ Why, you begin to see them everywhere in the Persian Gulf and around Muscat and Aden. Last year a few of them went to Jiddah with the pilgrims. They dress very plainly, but often in bright Oriental colours (one just came in all in green); on one or two occasions I have seen them wear gold when visiting a rich man, but there was no pride about them, and they put on no airs in their talk. [Illustration: MISSION HOUSE AT BUSRAH.] How many are there of these little missionaries, do you ask? Over three thousand eight hundred and forty visited and left the three stations of the Arabian Mission in the Persian Gulf last year. But, as I told you, they are _so_ modest that only a score of them perhaps sent in any account of their work, and that even was sent through a third party by word of mouth. I have heard it whispered that a faithful record of all their journeys and speeches is kept, but that these are put on file to be published all at once on a certain great day, when missionaries all get their permanent discharge. What a quiet, patient, faithful, loving body of workers they are. Even when it is very, very hot, and after a hard day's work, they never get out of temper as other missionaries sometimes do when in hot discussion with a bigoted Moslem. And yet how plainly they tell the truth--they do not even fear a Turkish Pasha; but that is because they have very cunningly all obtained a Turkish passport and a permit to preach anywhere unmolested. Of course, you have guessed my riddle, or else you will want to know what these missionaries cost and why we do not employ more of them; and who sent them out, and to what Board they are responsible; and who buys them new clothes of leather and cloth; and what happens to them when their backs are bent with age and their faces furrowed with care, and when only they themselves can read their title clear? I think no one will have to help you guess my riddle or tell you that the four missionaries who go about the most are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, and that the two ladies are Esther and Ruth. Now you have guessed that the Little Missionaries are the Books of the Bible. Do you know how many there are? How many in the Old Testament? How many in the New Testament? Perhaps some of you know the names of _all_ the sixty-six! But it is not enough to know the names of these Books that we have called Little Missionaries. We must know what is in them, we must know the message they bear to this sinful and troubled world. And we must all do our part to send out this blessed message of peace, comfort, and eternal life. It may not be your work to go to Arabia, but yet you have a work to do of one kind or another for Arabia. The Bible must be sent there. And now may I ask all the boys and girls who read this to pray for the Little Missionaries? Pray that they may go ahead and prepare the way of the Lord all over this dark peninsula, from the palm groves of Busrah to the harbour of Aden, and from the sea of Oman to the unholy cities,--Mecca and Medina. "Jesus, tender Shepherd Thou hast other sheep Far away from shelter Where dark shadows creep. Seeking Saviour, bring them home That they may no longer roam. "Jesus, tender Shepherd While Thou leadest me, As Thy little helper Faithful may I be. Seeking others far and wide Drawing lost ones to Thy side." XIX TURNING THE WORLD UPSIDE DOWN About eighteen hundred and fifty years ago two missionaries came to a town in Greece, called Thessalonica, and began to preach. They did nobody any harm and only talked about the love of Jesus Christ for sinners. A great number of people believed and attended their meetings. Some of the noble and wealthy women of the town also became Christians and for about three weeks the preaching went on unhindered. However, as soon as the enemies of the gospel saw that Paul and Silas were meeting with success they did their best to stir up trouble. A mob collected and with a great deal of noise and shouting pulled some of the new believers through the streets, crying: _"They that have turned the world upside down are come hither also!"_ Just as it was in Thessalonica so it has been in every place where the gospel has been preached. The word of God does turn the world upside down. The gospel is powerful and its effect is often at first to stir up the envy and hatred of men who love not God. When the heathen are worshipping idols and enjoying sinful pleasures they like to be let alone. A thief does not like the policeman's lantern. Those who do dark things hate the light. The Moslem's idea of right and wrong is so crooked that he does not like to have it exposed. [Illustration: THE SULTAN'S SOLDIERS.] Supposing there was a country where all the people wore their garments wrong side out because they knew no better, and then some one came wearing his clothes properly and trying to teach these ignorant people, would they not think _him_ mad and say why do _you_ not turn your coat inside out? That is the very way Moslems regard the missionary. They often tell us, "You are so good and kind why don't you accept the true religion and become a believer?" You must not think that the heathen or the Mohammedans are anxious to hear the gospel. They do not know of its value and so do not know what they miss. When they hear that the gospel demands a holy life and forbids all swearing and lying and uncleanness, they think such a religion too difficult and prefer their own. All their topsy-turvy ways and thoughts seem perfectly correct to themselves until God's Spirit enlightens them. It is no wonder therefore that there is always opposition and trouble when missionaries (even such quiet _little_ missionaries as we read about), come to a village. When you want to put a thing straight that is upside down there is sure to be an overturning. The farmer is not sorry because his rude plow breaks the hard soil and bruises the weeds and turns all the greensward under. Oh no; he does that to make some better green grow. Wait three months and you will see the whole field covered with a waving harvest of wheat. Ploughing is pretty rough work on weeds. Opening a new mission station is pretty rough, I admit, on a false religion. And the wise men cannot help knowing this and so they repeat the words of the old Greeks when they see a missionary settle down in their village: "Those that have turned the world upside down are come hither also ... saying that there is another King, _Jesus_." The king of all hearts in the Mohammedan world is their prophet Mohammed. They love his name and imitate his acts to the least particular. Much more faithfully, I fear, than we imitate Jesus, our example. The great question in Arabia is whether Mohammed or Jesus is to rule the country. Mohammed has had it very much his own way for thirteen hundred years, but now his dominion is being disputed. God's providence is working in many ways to help His gospel. I sometimes think that we might call His providence the plow and His gospel the good seed. For example, what a strange thing it is for the Arabs to find Christian governments interfering with their slave trade. Does not the Koran approve of slave holders and did not Mohammed buy and sell slaves? And then when the big merchant ships come to the coasts of Arabia and the ignorant Arabs learn of other lands and peoples and civilisation they cannot help losing some of their pride and prejudice. They compare the government of England in Aden with that of the Turks in Sanaa and then--well they feel like turning the world upside down themselves! The Mohammedan religion has such a strong hold in Arabia that it will not be overcome in one day or by one battle. We must expect a long and hard fight. Before Topsy-turvy Land becomes a Christian land there will be martyrs in Arabia. Every Moslem who accepts Christ does so at his peril, and yet there are those who dare to confess Christ before men. When you read in mission reports of troubles and opposition, of burning up books, imprisoning colporteurs and expelling missionaries you must not think that the gospel is being defeated. It is conquering. What we see under such circumstances is only the dust in the wake of the ploughman. God is turning the world upside down that it may be right side up when Jesus comes. He that plougheth should plough in hope. We may not be able to see a harvest yet in this country but, furrow after furrow, the soil is getting ready for the seed. Don't some of you want to come and do a day's ploughing for the King? There are some splendid stretches of virgin prairie yet untouched between Bahrein and Mecca. XX TURNING THE WORLD DOWNSIDE UP The story of mission work in Arabia is not very long, but it is full of interest. From the day when Mohammed proclaimed himself an apostle in Mecca until about sixteen years ago when Ion Keith Falconer came to Aden as a missionary, all of Topsy-turvy Land lay in darkness as regards the gospel. For thirteen hundred years Mohammed had it all his own way in Arabia. Now his dominion over the hearts of men, is in dispute, and there is no doubt that the final, full victory will rest with Jesus the Son of God, the Saviour of the world. Would you like to hear something, before we close this book about the missions that are now working in this country? There are _three_ missions. The missionaries of the Church of England began work in Bagdad about the year 1882. Bagdad is not at all a small town. It has a population of one hundred and eighty thousand people, and it was once a very important city. You can read all about its ancient beauty and wealth and commerce in the Arabian Nights. Some of the palaces that Harouner Rashid visited are still standing. In the city there are at present sixty-four mosques, six churches and twenty-two synagogues. One-third of the population are Jews, and there are over five thousand Christians. Most of the latter belong to the Roman Catholic faith, or to other twilight churches. The Roman Catholic cathedral, which you see in the picture, is the only church in all Northern Arabia that has a bell. Moslems do not like to hear church-bells, and they were forbidden by some rulers of the Moslem world long ago. The Protestant Christians meet for worship in a dwelling-house. The Bagdad mission has a large dispensary for the sick where thousands of Moslems and Jews and Christians come every year for treatment. Books are sold to the people, and there is a school for boys and girls which is also helping to _turn down_ old prejudices and _turn up_ the right side of child-life. The Moslem children are beginning to believe that the world is _round_ and that Constantinople is not the capital of all Europe. The British and Foreign Bible Society is also helping to turn this part of the world downside up. The gospel which has been buried under many superstitions and traditions so long, is again showing its power. _Colporteurs_ are men who carry the Bible about, offer it to the people and read and explain it to those whose hearts are open. They have a hard task, but if it were not for them the "Little Missionaries" would not get along at all. On the way from Bagdad to Busrah, we pass Amara, an enterprising village where the people once burned books and threw stones at the missionary, but where now the little Bible-shop of the American Mission shines unhindered, "Like a little candle, burning in the night." At Busrah, Rev. James Cantine began mission work in 1891, and ever since that time he and others have been ploughing and sowing seed and waiting for the showers that come before the harvest. It was at Busrah that Kamil Abd el Messiah, the Moslem convert from Syria, died a witness for Christ. Have you read the wonderful story of his life? It is full of pathos and shows how in the heart and life of at least one Moslem the Holy Spirit made topsy-turvy things straight. There are others like Kamil in Arabia, but many of them are still following the Master afar off, because they fear the persecutions of men. At Busrah, there is also a dispensary, and here too the gospel is sold and preached and lived before the people. Bahrein, you know, is a group of islands, and it is about six years ago that the people first saw a missionary. Nearly three-fourths of the population are pearl-merchants or pearl-fishers. Will you not pray that they may learn to value the Pearl of Great Price? A visit any morning in the week to the dispensary at Bahrein, would soon convince you that here too the Arab world is slowly but surely turning downside up. Women learn to their delight that they have equal right to sympathy with men, and they need not wait until the men are helped first. The Arabs are very ignorant of medicine and their remedies are either foolish or cruel. To "let out the pain" in rheumatism, they burn the body with a hot iron. All their ideas are upside down, and very few know on which side of their body the liver is located. Now when our mission doctors perform miracles of surgery on the maimed, and miracles of mercy on the suffering, the result is to prepare their hearts for Christ's message. To the fanatic Moslem a Christian is "an ignorant unbeliever." But we may put a parody on Pope's lines and say, in their case: "A Christian is a monster of such frightful mien That to be hated needs but to be seen. But seen too oft familiar with his face They first endure, then pity, then embrace." Many of the Moslems who in gratitude are ready to embrace a Christian physician may yet learn to embrace Christian teaching. Muscat in Arabic, means "the place where something falls." And the surroundings are so rocky and steep that everything has a chance to tumble down except the mercury in the thermometer. That is always up high. In this hot, crowded town, the Arabian Mission opened its third station in the year 1893. Two years before the veteran missionary-bishop, Thomas Valpy French laid down his life here, and the fallen standard was taken up by Peter J. Zwemer. After five years of toil in Oman, he also entered into rest. George E. Stone, his successor in Oman, was also worthy of the martyr's crown, and his simple grave at Muscat tells how "he arose, forsook all, and followed Christ." This part of Arabia is sacred because of what these three pioneers suffered to open the door for the gospel. I do not think the King will leave a province where He has buried so much treasure in the hands of the enemy, do you? The work of preaching in Oman is at present full of promise, and the people seem willing to hear. The American Bible Society is sending the Scriptures all over Eastern Arabia. [Illustration: MUSCAT HARBOUR.] The last mission station in Arabia we mention, is the first that people generally visit. Aden is a coaling station as well as a missionary centre and passengers travelling to the Orient nearly always stop here on the way. There are Christian churches and hospitals and government schools. At Sheikh Ottoman, a short distance from Aden, Ion Keith Falconer, the first modern missionary to this land, began his work. He died here also, but his life was so full of love and sacrifice that his _work_ is still going on. The Free Church of Scotland mission has medical work, an industrial school for waifs and a memorial chapel. From a great distance patients come to be cured, and Moslems to buy the Bible. The great lighthouse on the island of Perim, near Aden, throws its light for ten miles out on the dark sea and saves ships from the breakers. But the light of the gospel in the Bible depot at Aden, shines two hundred miles to the north as far as Sanaa, and three hundred miles east to Makalla on the coast. Yet I dare say it costs more to keep up the lighthouse at Perim (not to speak of building it) than it does to keep open all the Bible lighthouses of all Arabia. Perhaps Keith Falconer thought of this when he said in his farewell address: _"We Christians have a great and imposing war office, but a very small army. While vast continents are shrouded in almost utter darkness and hundreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathenism and Islam, the burden of proof lies upon you to show that the circumstances in which God has placed you, were meant by Him to keep you out of the foreign mission field."_ _Before you lay aside this book, will you not ask yourself why you should not go out to Arabia, or to some other land yet shrouded in darkness, and shine for Jesus?_ An Old Friend in a New Dress. ARABIC. LITERAL TRANSLATION. Seyyidi-'l-Fadi-'l Gani, Our Lord, the rich Saviour, Kalbehoo yuhibbooni, His heart loves me, Fa lahoo kooloo saghier. And to Him all little ones belong. Yaltajee wahoo'l kadeer. He protects us and is strong. Kad faaka hubban. Yes His love exceeds all. Kad faaka hubban. Yes His love exceeds all. Kad faaka hubban. Yes His love exceeds all. Yuhibbuna Yasooa. Jesus loves you. [Illustration: musical score] [ADVERTISEMENTS] Prof. I.T. HEADLAND'S FASCINATING CHILDREN'S BOOKS * * * * * Chinese Mother Goose Rhymes Translated and illustrated by Prof. Headland of Peking University. Small quarto, boards, net $1.00 "As full of sweets as a Canton jar of sugared ginger. It is perfectly delightful to look at, for without, and within on every page, are rolling, tumbling, playing Chinese little folks. This book ought to do a great deal toward awakening sympathy and affection for the East."--_S.S. Times_. The Chinese Boy and Girl Fully illustrated. Quarto, boards, decorated, net $1.00 "'Chinese Mother Goose' opened a large window through which we may see much that has been hidden. Now comes the 'Chinese Boy and Girl,' with another revelation, which is even more an introduction to the nursery, the school-room, the play ground. It is a cheery picture that it gives of the little folk of that empire, and cannot fail to make their far-away mates think more kindly of them. The hundred or more illustrations from photographs specially selected by Professor Headland, rival the artistic excellence of his earlier book."--_Worcester Spy_. _The "Billy Topsail" Books_ By NORMAN DUNCAN _The Adventures of Billy Topsail_ Illustrated, cloth, $1.50 "There was no need to invent conditions or imagine situations. The life of any lad of Billy Topsail's years up there is sufficiently romantic. It is this skill in the portrayal of actual conditions that lie ready to the hand of the intelligent observer that makes Mr. Duncan's Newfoundland stories so noteworthy. 'The Adventures of Billy Topsail' is a wonderful book."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ _Billy Topsail and Company_ Illustrated, cloth, $1.50 Every boy who knows Billy Topsail will welcome this continuation of his adventuresome life in the North. Like its predecessor, the new volume is a stirring story for boys, true to life, among the hardy sons of the sea, clean, pure and stimulating. _Author of "KINDERGARTEN STORIES"_ Kindergarten Bible Stories _FOURTH EDITION_ [Sidenote: _THE OLD TESTAMENT ADAPTED FOR LITTLE CHILDREN_] By LAURA ELLA CRAGIN Illustrated, Cloth, net $1.25 _Convention Teacher_: "An admirable book in every way. The writer has read many of the stories to his own children, and they have been received with delight. We commend the book to mothers and to the teachers of little children." _Scottish Review_: "Here is a book which many will welcome. The authoress has considerable experience and real skill in the art of imparting religious ideas to very young minds, as well as a manifest love of such labor." _Religious Telescope_: "If it were in our power it would be introduced into every home where there is a child." _Central Presbyterian_: "Best of its kind we have yet seen." _Southwestern Christian Advocate_: "Tells the little ones in a way quite original and exceptional the beautiful stories of the Old Testament." _Evangelical_: "It is a pleasure to recommend a book that will supply a long-felt need on the part of the Christian mother. The nature study which abounds throughout the book in one of its strong attractions, teaching the little children to associate the beauties of natural animal life with God, the giver of all these blessings." TALES OF BIBLE HEROES FOR THE CHILDREN OF TO-DAY Tell Me a True Story By MARY STEWART _THIRD EDITION_ Introduction by A.F. Schauffler. Illustrated, Cloth, net $1.25 [Illustration: Tell me a True Story. Mary Stewart.] A new volume of "Bible Stories for the Children's Hour," which comes at once into deserved popularity. _Henry van Dyke_ says: "It brings the meaning of Christianity to the children's level." _Patterson Du Bois_ says: "At the top of all the Bible story books for children." _Dr. William R. Richards_ says: "These stories have lived through a thorough testing." _Henry Shane Coffin_ says: "A fascinating book, much needed, a treasure." _Cumberland Presbyterian_: "No little talent has been lavished on the retelling of the Scripture stories, and many a teacher will find the book available for help and for suggestion." _Northern Christian Advocate_: "We can heartily commend this book as being the one needed for successful presentation of Bible stories. Children in the home will find this one of the best entertainers." _Interior_: "Will be found a godsend by weary mothers. It is especially designed for 'the children's hour' on Sunday." _Congregationalist_: "The author shows good taste and discrimination in the choice of material, and a sympathetic knowledge of the right approach for ethical teaching to the mind of the child." 
39853	----	THE LANCE OF KANANA A STORY OF ARABIA BY HARRY W. FRENCH ("ABD EL ARDAVAN") _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY GARRETT_ BOSTON LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. COPYRIGHT, 1892, BY D. LOTHROP COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. THE LANCE OF KANANA Norwood Press BERWICK & SMITH CO. Norwood, Mass. U. S. A. Encircled by the fiery, trackless sand, A fainting Arab halted at a well Held in the hollow of the desert's hand. Empty! Hope vanished, and he gasped and fell. At night the West Wind wafted o'er the land The welcome dew, a promise to foretell: Hers this result, for which she bade him stand. [Illustration: "OH, KANANA! OH, KANANA!" CRIED THE OLD MAN, ANGRILY.] CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS 11 II. THE OLD SHEIK'S PROMISE 20 III. AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR 27 IV. THE PROMISE 38 V. LED BY A WHITE CAMEL 52 VI. KANANA AND THE CALIPH 61 VII. A PRIZE WORTH WINNING 74 VIII. TO SEEK THE BENI SADS 86 IX. FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA 100 X. KANANA'S THIRD MISSION 115 XI. THE SACRED GIRDLE 125 XII. KANANA'S MESSENGERS 135 XIII. THE LANCE OF KANANA 147 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. "Oh, Kanana! Oh, Kanana!" cried the old man, angrily (Page 21) _Frontispiece_ Kanana stood upon the very edge of the white porch 42 "Dost thou believe Kanana spoke in fear?" 68 The silent figure demanded and received respect 94 Kneeling, he received the blessing 134 "I gave it to him," said Kahled, solemnly 164 THE LANCE OF KANANA I THE COWARD OF THE BENI SADS Kanana was an Arab--a Bedouin boy of many years ago, born upon the desert, of the seed of Ishmael, of the tribe of Beni Sad. It seems well-nigh impossible that the Bedouin boy could have lived who was not accustomed to the use of the sword and lance, long before he reached the dignity of manhood. The peculiar thing about Kanana was that he never held a lance in his hand but once; yet many a celebrated sheik and powerful chieftain of his day lies dead, buried, and forgotten long ago, while the name of Kanana is still a magic battle-cry among the sons of Ishmael, and his lance is one of the most precious relics of Arabia. The old mothers and the white-haired veterans love to tell the story of the lance of Kanana; their black eyes flash like coals of fire when they say of it that it rescued Arabia. The Beni Sads were a powerful tribe of roving Bedouins. Kanana was the youngest son of the venerable chief; the sheik who in the days of his strength was known from the Euphrates to the sea as the "Terror of the Desert." By a custom older than the boyhood of King David it fell to the lot of the youngest son to tend his father's sheep. The occupation was not considered dignified. It was not to Kanana's liking and it need not have lasted long; for the Terror of the Desert thought more of making warriors than shepherds of his sons, but greatly to his father's disgust Kanana refused to exchange his shepherd's staff for a warrior's lance. It was not that he loved the staff, but that he objected to the lance. The tribe called Kanana effeminate because he was thoughtful and quiet, where other boys were turbulent, and as he grew older and the boyish fancy became a decided conviction against the combats constantly going on between the different tribes, they even called him a coward and said that he did not dare to fight. There is but one name more bitter than "coward" to the Arab. That name is "traitor," and after being called a coward almost all his life, the very last words which Kanana heard from the lips of his countrymen came in frantic yells, calling him a traitor. To-day, however, it is always with throbbing hearts and flashing eyes that they repeat the story of the Lance of Kanana that rescued Arabia. Until he was five years old, Kanana rolled about in the sand and sunshine, like the other children, with nothing on him but a twisted leather cord, tied round his waist. Then, for five years, according to the custom of his people, he helped the women of his father's tent; shaking the goat-skin filled with cream till it turned into butter; watching the kedder upon the fire, drying the buttermilk to be ground into flour, and digging kemma, which grow like truffles, under the sand. After he was ten, for three years he watched the sheep and goats and the she-camels. That was the regular course of education through which all Bedouin boys must pass. When he reached the age at which Ishmael was sent away with Hagar by Abraham, he was supposed to drop all menial labor and take his place among men; making a position for himself according to the fighting qualities which he possessed. Kanana's fighting qualities, however, were only exhibited in the warfare which now began between him and his father. There were at that time very few occupations open to the Bedouin boy. The tribe was celebrated for its men of learning and boasted the most skillful physicians in all Arabia; but they had all won their first laurels with the lance, and none of them wanted Kanana. Three times his father came to him with the question: "Are you ready to be a man?" and three times Kanana replied, "My father, I can not lift a lance to take a life, unless it be for Allah and Arabia." How he came by a notion so curious no Arab could tell. The lad well knew the old decree that the hand of the Ishmaelite should be against every man, and every man's hand against him. He knew that every Arab of the desert lived by a warfare that was simply murder and robbery. Was he not an Arab, and an Ishmaelite? Alone, among the sheep and camels, he had thought out his own theory. Kanana said to himself, "I am taught that Allah created these animals and cares for them, and that I cannot please him if I allow them to suffer; it must be surely that men are more precious to Allah than animals. Why should we kill one another, even if we are Arabs and Ishmaelites?" The menial tasks still allotted to Kanana grew more and more irksome. His punishment was far more keen than the tribe supposed; no one dreamed of the sharp cringe of pain with which he heard even the children call him a coward. There were some faculties which Kanana possessed that made the warriors all envy him. He had a remarkable power over animals. No other Beni Sad could ride a camel or a horse so fast as Kanana. The most refractory creature would obey Kanana. Then, too, Kanana was foremost in the games and races. No other shepherd's eye was nearly so quick as Kanana's to detect an enemy approaching the flocks at night. No other young Bedouin, watching the ripening grain, could throw a stone from his sling so far and so accurately at the robber birds. These accomplishments, however, only made his father the more angry that Kanana would not turn his gifts to some more profitable end. Every year for three months--from planting to harvest-time--the Beni Sads encamped upon a river bank, on the outskirts of the Great Desert. The encampment numbered nearly five hundred tents set in four rows as straight as an arrow flies. These tents, of black goats'-hair cloth, were seven feet high in the center and five feet high on the sides. Some of them were twenty feet broad, and each was divided by a beautiful hanging white Damascus carpet. The men occupied one side, and the women and children the other. The favorite mare and the most valuable of the camels always slept by the tent, and the master's lance stood thrust into the ground at the entrance. Far as the eye could reach, up and down the sluggish river, a field of ripening grain filled the narrow space between the yellow water and the silver-gray of the desert sand. Here and there, through the grain-field, rose curious perches--platforms, constructed upon poles driven into the ground. Upon these platforms watchers were stationed when the grain began to head, and there they remained, night and day, till it was harvested, frightening the birds away. Once a day the women brought them food, consisting of buttermilk, dried and ground and mixed with melted butter and dates; these same women renewed the supply of stones to throw at the birds. The watchers were old men, women who were not needed in the tents, and little children; but all alone, this year, upon the most distant perch, sat Kanana. There was not one of the tribe but felt that he richly deserved this disgrace; and Kanana could see no way to earn their respect, no way to prove himself a brave fellow. He was glad that they had given him the most distant perch, for there he could bear his hard lot, away from jests and jeers. The women who brought the food stopped for a long time at some of the perches, reporting all the news, but they never troubled themselves to relieve Kanana's solitude. The perches were too far apart for conversation. Kanana had always time enough to think, and as the grain grew yellow this year, he came to two positive conclusions. He firmly resolved that before the reapers entered that field he would do something to convince his people that he was not a coward; failing that, he would hang his head in shame, acknowledge that they were right, and fly forever from their taunts. II THE OLD SHEIK'S PROMISE The sun was beating fiercely down upon Kanana's perch, but he had not noticed it. The stones piled beside him for his sling were almost hot enough to burn his hand, but he did not realize it, for he had not touched them for a long time. The wooden dish of paste and dates stood in the shadow of the perch. He had not tasted them. The pile of stones grew hotter and hotter. The hungry birds ate and quarreled and ate with no one to disturb them. The Bedouin boy sat cross-legged on his perch, heedless of everything, twisting and untwisting the leather cords of his sling, struggling to look into the mists that covered up his destiny. "Hi, there! you slothful son of a brave father! Look at the birds about you! Are you dead, or only sleeping?" sounded the distant but shrill and painfully distinct voice of an old woman who, with two children much younger than Kanana, occupied the next perch. Kanana roused himself and sent the stones flying from his sling till there was not a bird in sight. Then he sank into deep thought once more; with his head resting upon his hands he became oblivious to everything. Suddenly he was roused by the sound of horses' hoofs upon the sandy soil, a sharp rustling in the drying grain. He looked up, as thoroughly startled as though he had been sleeping, to see approaching him the one person than whom he would rather that any or all of the tribe of Beni Sad should find him negligent at his post of duty. It was his father. "Oh, Kanana! oh, Kanana!" cried the old man, angrily. "Thou son of my old age, why didst thou come into the world to curse me? When thou shakest the cream, the butter is spoiled. When thou tendest the sheep, they are stolen! When thou watchest the grain, it is eaten before thy face! What shall a father do with a son who will neither lift his hand among men nor bear a part with women? And now, when all the miseries of life have taken hold upon me and the floods cover me, thou sittest at thine ease to mock me!" Kanana sprang down from his perch. Kneeling, he touched his forehead to the ground. "My father, slay me and I will take it as a mercy from thy hand. Or, as I am fit for nothing here, bid me go, and among strangers I will beg. But thou shalt not, my father, speak of me as ungrateful, unfilial. I know of no flood of sorrow that has come down upon thee." "Thou knowest not what they all know?" exclaimed the old man fiercely. "I know of nothing, my father. Since I came into the field, three weeks ago, no one has spoken to me but to chide me." "Then know now," replied the sheik reproachfully, "that of thy two brave brothers who went with the last caravan, one has returned, wounded and helpless, and the other, for an old cause of blood between our tribes, has been made a prisoner by Raschid Airikat. The whole caravan, with the white camel at its head, Raschid has taken, and he has turned with it toward Damascus." "Thy part of the caravan was very small, my father," said Kanana. "Only four of the camels were thine, and but for the white camel they were all very old. Their burdens, too, saving my brothers, were only honey and clay-dust, of little value." This was the simple truth, and evinced at least a very practical side to Kanana's mind; but it was not the kind of sympathy which the sheik desired, and his anger burst out afresh against Kanana. "Ay, thou tender of flocks, and sleeper!" he cried. "Wouldst thou teach me the value of camels and merchandise to comfort me? And hast thou fixed the price of ransom which Airikat will demand, or slay thy brother? And hast thou reckoned up the value of the white camel which could not be bought for gold, as it brought to thy father and thy father's father all their abundance of good? Answer me, if thou art so wise. Oh, that I had a son remaining who could lift a lance against this Airikat as bravely as he hurls his empty words at an old father!" "My father," said Kanana earnestly, "give me a horse, a sack of grain, a skin of water, and I will follow after Raschid Airikat. I will not slay him, but, by the help of Allah, I will bring back to thee thy white camel with my brother seated upon his back." The old sheik made a gesture of derision: "Thou wisp of flax before a fire! Thou reed before a whirlwind! Get thee back to thy perch and thy birds, and see if thou canst keep awake till sundown. Harvesting will begin with the daylight to-morrow. See that thou workest then." Kanana rose to his feet. Looking calmly into the old sheik's angry face, he replied: "My father, I will watch the birds till sundown. Then let others do the reaping. Kanana, whom thou scornest, will be far away upon the desert, to seek and find his brother." "Did I not say I would not trust a horse to thee?" exclaimed the old man, looking at him in astonishment. "These feet of mine can do my bidding well enough," replied Kanana. "And by the beard of the Prophet they shall do it till they have returned to thee thy son and thy white camel. I would do something, oh, my father, that I, too, might have thy blessing and not thy curse. It is the voice of Allah bids me go. Now say to me that if I bring them back then thou wilt bless me, too, ay, even though still I will not lift a lance, unless it be for Allah and Arabia." The aged warrior looked down in a sort of scornful pity upon his boy, standing among the stalks of grain; half in jest, half in charity, he muttered, "Yes, _then_ I will bless thee," and rode away. The harvesting began, as the old sheik had said, with the next daylight, but Kanana was not among the reapers. Few so much as missed him, even, and those who did, supposed that he had hidden himself to avoid their jests. Only the sullen sheik, bowed under his affliction, thought often of Kanana as he rode up and down the line. He remembered his looks, his words. He wondered if he could have been mistaken in the boy. He wished he had given him the horse and that he had blessed him before he went away. III AT THE FOOT OF MOUNT HOR The moment the sun sank into the billows of sand Kanana had left his perch. From the loaded stalks about him he gathered a goat's-hair sack of grain and fastened it upon his back. There was no one to whom he need say farewell, and, armed only with his shepherd's staff, he started away upon the desert, setting his course to the north and west. Before he had gone far he passed a lad of about his own age who had come from the encampment to hunt for desert-rats. Had Kanana seen him he would have made a wide détour, but the boy lay so still upon the sand that the first Kanana knew of his presence was when a low sarcastic voice uttered his name. "Kanana!" it exclaimed. "Thou here! Dost thou not fear that some rat may bite thee? Whither darest thou to go, thus, all alone, and after dark, upon the sand?" Fire flashed from Kanana's eyes. His hand clutched his shepherd's staff and involuntarily he lifted it; but the better counsel of his curious notions checked the blow. It was so dark that the boy upon the sand did not notice the effect of his taunts and knew nothing of his narrow escape. He only heard the quiet voice of Kanana as presently it meekly replied to his question: "I go to Mount Hor." It was an answer so absurd that the boy gave it no second thought and by the time that the footsteps of Kanana had died away the rat-hunter had as utterly forgotten him as though he had never existed. To Mount Hor? Kanana had only the most imperfect information to guide him. He knew that the Beni Sad caravan had been for some days upon the road southward, to Mecca, when it was captured by Raschid Airikat and turned at an angle, northward, toward Damascus. Seen from a great distance, over the sea of sand, the solitary peak of old Mount Hor, where Aaron, the great high priest of Israel, was buried, forms a startling beacon. By day or night, it rises clear and sharp against the sky, guiding the caravans northward, from Arabia to Jerusalem and Damascus, and southward from Syria to Medina and Mecca; while the fertile oasis about it is the universal resting-place. Kanana was not at all sure that the caravan would not have passed Mount Hor long before he could reach it; but if so, it must in time return that way, and, in any case, of all Arabia Mount Hor was the one spot where he could be sure to gather further information from passing caravans. He knew his path upon that shifting sand as well as an Indian knew his way through the trackless forests of New England. With the sun and stars above him, any Arab would have scorned the idea of being lost in Arabia, and through the long night with strong and steady strides Kanana pressed onward toward Mount Hor. As the harvest moon rose above the desert, behind him, the Bedouin boy was softly chanting from the second _sura_ of Al Koran: "God, there is no God but him; The Living! The Eternal. Slumber doth not overtake him, Neither Sleep. And upholding all things, To him is no burden. He is the Lofty and the Great." His long, black shadow fell over the silver sand, and, watching it, he chanted the Koran again: "God is God. Whatever of good betideth thee cometh from him. "Whatever of evil is thine own doing." Suddenly a speck appeared upon the distant horizon. None but the keen eye of a shepherd would have seen it, in the night, but Kanana watched it as it quivered and wavered, disappearing as it sank into a valley in the rolling sand, appearing again, like a dory on the ocean, each time a little nearer than before. Kanana noted the direction the speck was taking, and he made a wide path for it; he crouched among the sand-shrubs when it came too near. First a small party of horsemen passed him, the advance guard of a moving tribe. Then came the main body of men upon camels and horses; but the only sounds were made by the feet of the animals and the clanking of the weapons. The she-camels with their young followed; then the sheep and goats driven by a few men on foot; next, the camels laden with the tents and furniture; last of all the women and children of the tribe accompanied by another armed escort. From all that company there was not a sound but of the sand and the trappings. There was nothing but shadows, swinging, swaying shadows, moving like phantoms over the white sand, as the trailing train went gliding on, in that mysterious land of shadows and silhouettes. There was nothing in it that was weird to Kanana, however. He hid himself simply as a precaution. He had often been a part of such a caravan, and he knew from experience, that if a solitary Arab were found upon the desert, he would very quickly be forced to help drive the sheep and goats, and kept at it until he could make his escape. Any Arab boy would have hidden himself. Long before Kanana's next halt the sun was pouring down his furious heat. To his great good fortune he came upon a bowlder rising out of the sand; there he quickly made a place for himself where the sun could not reach him and lying down slept until night. Only one who has walked upon a desert, hour after hour, parched with thirst and utterly exhausted in the fierce glare and heat can properly appreciate the Bible picture of "the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Had he not found this rock Kanana would simply have dug a hole in the sand and forced himself into it. Here and there as he pressed on, Kanana saw grim skeletons of men and animals as they lay whitening among the sand-shrubs, but he paid them little attention. Before the sun had set, upon the second day, he beheld the distant summit of Mount Hor cutting sharply into the blue sky. The sight renewed his strength. Hour after hour he pressed onward, with his eyes fixed upon the tomb of Aaron, a white monument upon the summit of the mountain, flashing like snow as the moon rose in the clear, blue-black sky. Kanana did not pause again until he fell upon his knees beside the stream which rises in a spring upon Mount Hor, to die in the sand, not far from its base. He plunged into the water; then, dressing himself again, he lay down upon the bank to sleep. He awoke with the first gray lighting in the east, when the air of a desert is almost cold enough to freeze. He had now nothing more to do till he could obtain some information from passing caravans. It would soon be sunrise, the hour for morning prayer, and, to warm himself while he waited, he walked along the banks of the stream. They were blue as the very sky, with masses of forget-me-nots. Suddenly Kanana paused. He started back. His eyes dilated, and his hand trembled till the shepherd's staff fell, unheeded, to the ground. The next moment he dropped to the ground to examine the place more carefully. What was it? Only some marks upon the grass where a caravan had camped. The herbage was matted here and there where the camels lay, and cropped short in little circles about each spot where they had eaten it as far as they could reach. Caravans were continually resting for the day under the shadow of Mount Hor. There was nothing remarkable in the fact that a caravan had camped there, and had gone. They always move at night; not so much because it is cooler as because a camel will not eat at night, no matter how hungry he may be, and must be given the daylight or he will deliberately starve. A moment later Kanana was upon his feet again with a triumph in his eyes which clearly indicated his satisfaction. The grass about the spot was unevenly cropped; there were straggling spears of green left standing in the center of each mouthful which the camel had taken. Upon one side the bees were clustering on the matted grass. A multitude of ants appeared upon the other side. The imprint left by the forefoot of the camel showed that it had been extended in front of him, instead of being bent at the knee and folded beneath him. All this meant to the young Arab that the camel was old, that it was lame in the left knee, that it had lost a front tooth, that its burden on one side was honey, on the other the dust of river clay, to be used in the manufacture of stucco. Had one of his father's camels stood before him Kanana could not have been more sure. Nothing more was needed to assure him that Raschid Airikat, with the stolen camels, had left Mount Hor the night before, upon the trail leading southward into Arabia. His eyes flashed with excitement. "My brother and the white camel are not ten hours from here, and they are on the road to Mecca or Medina," he exclaimed as his fingers tightened about the staff. His white teeth glistened in a smile, as he added, "They are mine, or I am a coward!" He stood there, motionless, for a moment, his dark eyes instinctively turning southward. The magnitude of his task lay vividly before him. He recalled his father's words: "Thou wisp of flax before a fire! Thou reed before a whirlwind!" They served to strengthen him. The first step which lay before him was enough to test the courage of a brave man, and yet it was only a step toward a grand destiny. Suddenly starting from his revery, Kanana exclaimed: "I will do it! or I will consent to be known forever as the coward of the Beni Sads!" and turning he ran up the rocky sides of old Mount Hor, toward the white tomb of Aaron, whence he knew he could see far away over the great ocean of sand. It might be there would yet appear a speck upon the distant horizon, to guide him toward the retreating caravan. IV THE PROMISE Up the steep sides of Mount Hor, Kanana climbed, without waiting to look for a path. He saw nothing, heard nothing. He was all eagerness to reach the summit, in the faint hope that it might not be too late to see the departing caravan of Raschid Airikat. Unless a camel is fresh, unusually large and strong, or constantly urged, it rarely makes more than two miles an hour. It was not over ten hours since the robber sheik had left the oasis, and some of the camels were very old and exhausted. It was a foolish hope, no doubt, and yet Kanana hoped that anything so large as a great caravan might still be distinguishable. Up, up, up he climbed--as fast as hands and feet could carry him. He no longer felt the cool air of early morning. He no longer looked about him to see the new sights of a strange oasis. He did not even pause to look away over the desert as he climbed. The highest point was none too high. He did not care how far he could see until he had gained the white tomb of Aaron, upon the very crest. Had he not been too thoroughly occupied with what was above him to notice what transpired about him and down below, he would have seen five Arab horsemen reach the stream by which he slept, almost as he began to climb. They were Mohammedan soldiers, thoroughly armed for war, and had evidently come from the northern borders of Arabia, where the victorious Mussulmans were triumphantly planting the banner of Islam. They had been riding hard, and both men and horses were exhausted. They hurried to the water. The men hastily ate some food which they carried, and tethered their horses in Arab fashion, by a chain, one end of which is fastened about the forefoot of the animal and the other end about the master, to prevent their being stolen while the master sleeps. The moment this was accomplished, the five men rolled themselves in their mantles, covering their faces, as well as their bodies, and lay down upon the grass to sleep. They were skilled in the art of making long journeys in the shortest possible time, and were evidently upon important business; for an Arab is never in haste unless his mission is very important. Before Kanana reached the temple the men were soundly sleeping, and the horses, lying down to rest themselves, were still eating the grass about them, as a camel eats. Panting for breath, and trembling in his eager haste, Kanana reached the tomb of Aaron: an open porch, with white pillars supporting a roof of white, like a crown of eternal snow upon the summit of Mount Hor. Between the snowy pillars Kanana paused. One quick glance at the sky gave him the points of the compass, and shading his eyes from the glowing east, he looked anxiously to the south and west. Sand, sand, sand, in billows like great waves of an ocean, lay about him in every direction. Far away there were low hills, and a semblance of green which, to his practiced eye, meant a grove of date palms upon the banks of a stream. But nowhere, search as he would, was there the faintest speck to indicate the caravan. He was still anxiously scanning those distant hills when the first rays of the rising sun shot from the eastern horizon, flashing a halo of glory upon the snow-white crown of old Mount Hor, before they touched the green oasis lying about its base. Never, in all the ages, had the sun come up out of the Arabian desert to see such a tableau as his first bright beams illumined Aaron's tomb. All absorbed in his eager search, Kanana stood upon the very edge of the white porch. One hand was extended, grasping his shepherd's staff, the other was lifted to shade his eyes. [Illustration: KANANA STOOD UPON THE VERY EDGE OF THE WHITE PORCH.] In his eagerness to reach forward, one foot was far before the other, and the knee was bent, as though he were ready to leap down the steep declivity before him. His turban, a large square piece of cloth, was bound about his head with a camel's-hair cord; one corner was thrown back over his forehead, and a corner fell over each shoulder, like a cloak. His coat was sheepskins stitched together. Summer and winter, rain and sunshine, the Bedouin shepherd wears that sheepskin coat, as the best protection against both sun and frost. His bare feet rested firmly upon the white platform, and the arm that held the shepherd's staff was knotted with muscles which a strong man might have envied him. His beardless face was dark, but not so dark as to hide the eager flush which heightened the color in his cheeks, and his chest rose and fell in deep, quick motions from his rapid climb. His lips were parted. His dark eyes flashed, while the hand which shaded them stood out from his forehead as though trying to carry the sight a little farther, that it might pierce the defiles of those distant hills and the shadows of the date palm groves. The sun rose higher, and its full light fell across the young Ishmaelite. It was the signal for the morning call to prayer, and from the minaret of every mosque in the realm of Islam was sounding _La Illaha il Allah Mahamoud rousol il Allah_. Kanana did not need to hear the call, however. He instantly forgot his mission, and, a humble and devout Mohammedan, laid aside his staff and reverently faced toward Mecca to repeat his morning prayer. Standing erect, with his open hands beside his head, the palms turned forward, he solemnly began the _Nummee Allah voul-hamda_. With his hands crossed upon his breast he continued. Then he placed his hands upon his knees, then sat upon the floor. Then with his open hands upon the floor he touched his forehead to the platform as he repeated the closing words of the prayer. In this position he remained for some time, whispering a petition of his own for strength and courage to carry out the task which he had undertaken. There was something so solemn and impressive in the death-like stillness of the early morning, upon that solitary peak, that it almost seemed to Kanana that, if he listened, he should hear the voice of Allah, answering his prayer. Suddenly the silence was broken by a sharp cry, and another and another in quick succession mingled with savage yells. It was not the voice of Allah, for which he had been waiting, and Kanana sprang to his feet and looked anxiously about him. The mountains of Arabia are not high. Among real mountains, Mount Hor would be but a rocky hill. Looking down, for the first time, Kanana saw the stream below him, in its border of blue forget-me-nots, and could clearly distinguish the five soldiers who had so quickly fallen asleep upon its banks. It was a fearful sight which met his eyes. The five men were still lying there, but they were no longer sleeping. They were dead or dying; slain by three Bedouin robbers, who had crept upon them for the valuable prize of their horses, and who did not dare attempt to steal the animals while the masters were alive. It was almost the first time that Kanana's eyes had rested upon a scene of blood, common as such scenes are among his countrymen, and he stood in the porch benumbed with horror, while the robbers tore from the bodies about them such garments as pleased them; then took their weapons, mounted three of the horses, and leading two rode quickly away to the north. There was no assistance which Kanana could render the unfortunate men. The caravan was already a night's march ahead of him and every moment that he lost must be redeemed by hurrying so much the faster under the burning sun, over the scorching sand, when, at the best, it was doubtful if flesh and blood could stand what must be required of it. With a shudder he turned from the terrible scene and began to descend the mountain. Soon he was upon the banks of the stream and passing close to the spot where the five bodies were lying. He would not run, but he hurried on, with his eyes fixed upon the ground before him. A faint sound caught his ear. He started, clutched his staff, and turned sharply about, thinking that the robbers had seen him and returned. It was only one of the unfortunate soldiers who had been left for dead. He had raised himself upon his elbow, and was trying to attract Kanana's attention. "Water! water! In the name of Allah, give me water!" he gasped, and fell back unconscious. For a moment Kanana was tempted to hurry on. He did not want to go there, any more than he wanted to delay his journey; but something whispered to him of the promises of the Koran to those who show mercy to the suffering; that Allah would reward even a cup of water given to the thirsty. It required no little courage of the Bedouin boy, all alone under Mount Hor, but he resolutely turned back, filled with water the wooden cup which a shepherd always carries at his girdle, and poured it down the parched throat of the almost insensible man. "Bless God for water!" he gasped. "More! give me more!" Kanana ran to the brook and filled the cup again, but the poor man shook his head. It was too late. He was dying. Suddenly he roused himself. He made a desperate struggle to call back his failing senses, and, for a moment, threw off the hand of Death. He had almost given up, forgetting something of great importance. Steadying himself upon his elbow, he looked into Kanana's face and said: "You are a beardless youth, but you are an Arab. Listen to me. The mighty Prince Constantine, son of the Emperor Heraclius, is soon to leave Constantinople, at the head of a vast army of Turks and Greeks and Romans, like the leaves of the forest and the sand of the desert. He is coming to sweep the Arab from the face of the earth and the light of the sun. We were bearing a letter to the Caliph Omar, who is now at Mecca, telling him of the danger and asking help. If the letter does not reach him Arabia is lost and the Faithful are destroyed. Would you see that happen?" Too frightened to speak and hardly comprehending the situation, Kanana simply shook his head. The man made another effort to overcome the stupor that had almost mastered him. He succeeded in taking from his clothing a letter, sealed with the great seal, and gasped: "In the name of Allah, will you fly with this to the great caliph?" Hardly realizing what he said, Kanana solemnly repeated: "In the name of Allah, I will." He took the letter and was hiding it in his bosom when the soldier grasped the cup of water, drank ravenously, and, with the last swallow, let the cup fall from lifeless fingers. Minute after minute passed, but Kanana did not move a muscle. His hand still touched the letter which he had placed in his bosom. His eyes still rested upon the lips that would never speak again. His sacred promise had been pledged to fly with that letter to the great caliph at Mecca. It had been made in the name of Allah. It had been given to the man now lying dead before him. There was no power that could retract it. It must be performed, and until it was performed no other consideration could retard his steps or occupy his thoughts. His lips parted and he muttered, angrily: "Is this my reward for having given a cup of water to the thirsty?" Then it suddenly occurred to him that the caravan which he longed most of all to follow was also upon its way southward, and that, for the present at least, for either mission the direction was the same, and the demand for haste was great. He caught his staff from the ground and set his face toward Mecca, pondering upon the dying statement of the soldier till word for word it was fastened in his memory, and the thought that his mission was for Allah and Arabia urged him on. It was an easy task to follow the trail of the caravan. The Bedouin would be a disgrace to the desert who could not recognize in the sand the recent footprint of one of his own tribe or of a camel with which he was familiar, and who could not tell by a footprint whether the man or camel who made it carried a burden, often what that burden was, always whether he was fresh or exhausted, walking leisurely or hurrying. So Kanana hurried on, daily reading the news of the caravan before him as he went, testing his strength to the utmost before he rested, and starting again as soon as he was able; over the sand and over the hills, through groves and villages and over sand again; always toward Mecca. V LED BY A WHITE CAMEL In the world-famous city of Mecca, two men stood by the arch that leads to the immortal Caaba. They were engaged in an earnest conversation, heedless of everything about them, when the distant cry of a camel driver sounded on the still air. Both of the men started and looked at each other in surprise. One of them said: "A caravan at the gate at this time of day!" for it was several hours past midday and a caravan, in the ordinary course of things, reaches a city gate during the night or very early in the morning. Arabia was seeing troubled times, and every one was on the alert for anything out of the accepted rule. The camel-driver's cry was repeated. The first speaker remarked: "They have left the burdened camels at the Moabede gate and are entering the city." With an anxious look upon his face the elder of the two replied, "Either they have been hard pressed by an enemy or it is important news which brings them over the desert in such haste, in this insufferable heat." The two men were evidently of great importance in the holy city. They were surrounded by powerful black slaves, who had all that they could do to keep the passers-by from pressing too close upon the elder man, in a desire to touch the hem of his garment. Many, in passing, knelt and touched their foreheads to the ground. Thus they waited the coming caravan. The first camel of an important caravan is led by a man who walks before it, through the narrow streets of a city, and his cry is to warn the crowd to clear the way; there being no sidewalks, and, indeed, but very little street. "There it comes," said the younger of the two, as the long line of drowsy camels appeared, swinging, swinging, swinging along the narrow street. "Led by a white camel," added the elder, and they both looked down the street. The lead-camel was larger than the rest--much larger, and very much lighter colored; a sort of dingy white, like a sheep before shearing. The chief of the caravan sat upon his back, as unmindful of everything as though he were still upon the trackless sand. It is not impossible that the sheik was really sleeping, and unconsciously grasping his ugly lance, while his Damascus blade hung ready by his side. He roused in a moment, however, for with many a grunt and groan the great, ungainly, and yet very stately, ships of the desert came slowly and drowsily to anchor in the court before the Caaba. "_Haji_," a naked little urchin muttered, looking up from his play; but he should have known better. _Haji_ means pilgrims, and these were no pilgrims. There are seasons when this city is one mass of humanity. Haji by hundreds and thousands throng the narrow streets, but these are Bedouins of the desert, bound upon some other mission than worshiping before the Caaba, kissing the Black Stone, or drinking the holy water of Zemzem. The leader of the white camel gave a peculiar pull to the rope hanging over his shoulder, attached to the animal's bridle, and uttered a short, sharp word of command. Slowly, very slowly, the dignified, dingy creature, towering high above him, acknowledged the receipt of the order, but he gave no evidence that he was making any arrangements to obey. His response was simply a deliberate grunt and a weird and melancholy wail that came gurgling out of his long, twisting throat. He would not have hurried himself one atom, even for the sheik upon his back. A white camel is to the Arab what a white buffalo is to the Indian and a white elephant to the Ceylonese, and he fully appreciates his importance. He deliberately turned his woolly head quite about till his great brown eyes, with the drooping lids almost closed over them, could most conveniently look back along the line of lank, inferior camels, and gaunt and weather-beaten dromedaries, which had patiently followed him, day after day, to the temple court of immortal Mecca. He was so long about it that the leader repeated the command and very slowly the camel brought his head back again, till his languid eyes looked drowsily down, in a sort of scornful charity, upon the insignificant mortal at the other end of his halter. He had stood in the court of Mecca long before that man was born and would doubtless guide caravans to the same spot long after he was buried and forgotten. "You may be in haste, but I am not," he seemed to say, and dreamily turned his eyes toward the black-curtained Caaba, as if to see how it had fared since his last visit. That Caaba, the Holy of Holies of the Mussulman, is the most revered and possibly the most venerable of all the sacred buildings on the earth; but the gentle, wistful eyes of the white camel were more practically drawn toward two or three date-palm-trees then growing beside it. When he had satisfied himself that the only green thing in sight was quite beyond his reach, he deliberately lowered his head, changed his position a little, and with another grunt and another melancholy wail sank upon his knees, then upon his haunches. With a deep sigh he lifted his head again still high above the head of his driver, and his drowsy eyes seemed saying to him: "Poor man! I kept you waiting, didn't I?" Then he quickly turned his head to the opposite side, deliberately poking his nose into the passing throng, till, with a grunt of recognition, it touched the garment of one who was hurrying on among the crowd. It was evidently a Bedouin, but the wings of his turban were drawn together in front, so that no one could see his face. He responded to the greeting of the white camel, however, by laying his hand upon the creature's nose as he passed. It was a motion which no one noticed, and a moment later he was out of sight. He was following a boy who had led him directly to the arch, where the boy paused, pointed to the elder of the two men standing there, briefly observing: "It is he." The Bedouin paused for a moment, as if struggling to collect his thoughts, then hurrying forward was the next to prostrate himself before the venerable man. As he rose he handed him a package, simply observing: "A message to the Caliph Omar." The great caliph quickly broke the seal and read; then, turning to the bearer, asked sharply, "And who art thou?" "I am Kanana, son of the sheik of the Beni Sads," replied the Bedouin boy, letting the wings of his turban fall apart that Omar might see his face. "A beardless youth!" exclaimed the caliph. "And dost thou know aught of the import of this letter?" Kanana repeated the dying words of the Arab soldier, which had so often escaped his lips as he urged his weary feet toward Mecca. "'Tis even so," replied the caliph. "And how came living man to trust a boy like you to come alone, through the streets of Mecca, with such an errand?" "I came alone with the letter from the oasis at Mount Hor," replied Kanana, straightening himself up, with very pardonable pride, before the astonished eyes of the great caliph. Then he related, briefly, how the letter came into his keeping, and the dangers and escapes of the three long weeks during which he carried it in his bosom; each rising and setting sun finding it a little nearer to its destination. "Thou art a brave youth," said the caliph, "a worthy son of the Terror of the Desert. Would to Allah that every Arab had thy heart, and Heraclius himself, with all the world behind him, could not move the Faithful from their desert sands. And they shall not be moved! No! By the beard of the Prophet, they shall not be moved. Hear me, my son; I will see more of thee. This is no place for conversation, where the wind bloweth into what ears it listeth. One of my slaves shall conduct you to my house. There I will meet you presently. Go, and Allah go with you." Indicating the slave who should take Kanana in charge, the Caliph Omar turned abruptly away and showed the letter to the man with whom he had been conversing. VI KANANA AND THE CALIPH Guided by the black slave, Kanana passed out again under the arch, and walked the streets of Mecca, caring less and thinking less concerning what transpired about him than any one, before or since, who for the first time stood in the holy city. He found the narrow streets densely crowded. Soldiers and merchants, Bedouins and city Arabs mingled with an array of every tribe Arabia could furnish. There were venders of all things pertaining to the necessities or luxuries of life; water-carriers with goatskins on their shoulders; fruit-criers with wooden trays upon their heads; donkeys laden with cumbersome baskets, beneath which they were almost lost to sight; camels carrying packs of a thousand pounds weight upon their backs, as though they were bundles of feathers; everything hustling and jostling, men and boys shouting and pushing for the right of way. They all turned out as best they could, however, for the savage black slave of the great caliph, and by keeping close behind him Kanana always found an open space where he could walk without fighting for room. It was almost the first experience of the Bedouin boy in real city life, and the very first time that his bare feet had ever touched the beaten sand of the unpaved streets of his most sacred Mecca. He turned from the arch, however, without once glancing at the black-curtained Caaba, the Beitullah, or House of God, toward which three times a day he had turned his face in reverent devotion, ever since he had learned to pray. He followed the black slave onward through the streets, without so much as looking at the walls of the houses that crowded close on either hand. He had fulfilled his vow. The packet he had sacredly guarded through many a hardship and danger and narrow escape was safely delivered. Now he was free to carry on the work for which he left the perch and the birds in the grain-field of the Beni Sad. Sometimes he thought of the black slave before him, and wondered if, after all, he was quite free. And the thought troubled him. It seemed as though long years had passed since the day when his father met him with the news of Raschid Airikat's capture of his brother. He had suffered privations enough for a lifetime since then. More than once his life had hung by a slender thread. He could hardly imagine himself again sitting up on the perch, frightening the birds away, his life had so entirely changed; his determination to keep the vow he made his father had grown stronger every day; only he realized more the magnitude of the task he had undertaken; and he appreciated his father's words: "Thou wisp of straw before a fire! Thou reed before a whirlwind!" Still he gathered hope, because he was beginning to understand himself. The dangers and hardships of one enterprise he had met and overcome, and under the very shadow of the Caaba, the great caliph of Mecca had called him brave. Now he was eager for the next. There was no vital need of another interview with the caliph, and Kanana thought that if he could only escape from the black slave, by darting into a crowded alley, he could go at once about his own important business. For the first time Kanana looked about him. At the moment there was no opportunity, and while he watched for one, the slave turned suddenly into a great gate, crossed a court paved with limestone, lifted a reed curtain, entered one of the most substantial stone structures of Mecca, and indicated to Kanana the apartment in which he was to wait for the caliph. It was too late to escape. With all the patience and dogged submission to destiny so strongly developed in the Bedouin, Kanana sat down upon a rug. There were luxurious ottomans about the room, and divans taken from the palaces of Persian princes, but the Bedouin boy preferred the desert seat. Much as though he were still upon the perch, he laid his staff beside him and buried his face in his hands. The magnificence in this chamber of Omar's official residence only disturbed his thoughts. He became so deeply buried in his plans that he had entirely forgotten where he was, when the rattle of the reed curtain roused him and, starting from his dream, he found the great caliph entering. Reverently touching his forehead to the floor, Kanana remained prostrate until the caliph was seated. Then he rose and stood leaning upon his staff while the old ruler silently surveyed him. It seemed to Kanana that his very heart was being searched by those grave and piercing eyes. Upon the shoulders of the Caliph Omar rested the fate of Islam for future ages; his word was law wherever Mohammed was revered. He could have little time to waste upon a shepherd boy; yet he sat for a long while, silently looking at Kanana. When he spoke, it was only to bid him repeat, at greater length, the story of how he came by the letter and how he brought it to Mecca. "My son," he said, when Kanana had finished, "thou hast done what many a brave man would not have ventured to attempt. Ask what reward thou wilt of me." "I would have the blessing of the Caliph Omar," Kanana replied. "That thou shall have, my son; and camels, or sheep, or gold. Ask what thou wilt." "I have no use for anything. I ask thy blessing, my father, and thy word to bid me go." "Thou art a strange lad," replied the caliph. "Thou art like, and yet unlike the Terror of the Desert. I command thee, my son, say what I can best do for thee." "Give me thy blessing, then let me go, my father," repeated Kanana, kneeling. "More than that, if I took it, I should leave at thy gate." Omar smiled gravely at the boy's obstinacy. "If I can do nothing for thee, there is yet something which thou canst do for me. Kahled is the greatest general who fights for the Prophet. He will soon reach Bashra, with thirty thousand warriors. He will turn to enter Persia, but these letters must reach him, with my orders that he go again to Syria. Bashra is three weeks from here, and a company of soldiers will start to-night to carry the messages, while I send far and wide for the Faithful to join him. It would be well, my son, for thee to go with the soldiers, to give the story to Kahled by word of mouth." "The way is hard. The sand is deep and dry between Mecca and Bashra," said Kanana. The caliph looked in some surprise upon the hardy Bedouin boy. "Hardship should not be hard to thee; but thou shall be carried as one whom the caliph would honor." "The way is dangerous. Robbers and hostile tribes are like the sand about Bashra," added Kanana, who had often heard of the countries along the eastern borders of Arabia. Surprise became astonishment. The caliph exclaimed: "Thou! son of the Terror of the Desert, speaking of danger?" "My father, I spoke for thy soldiers," replied Kanana, quickly. "Before they reach the sands of Bashra they will be with the five who started with this letter. Dost thou believe that Kanana spoke in fear or cowardice? If so, give him the letters, and with thy blessing and the help of Allah, he will deliver them to thy Kahled, though every river run with fire, and the half of Arabia stand to prevent him!" [Illustration: "DOST THOU BELIEVE THAT KANANA SPOKE IN FEAR?"] "Beardless youth!" cried the caliph. "I am too old for mockery." "My father, without a beard I brought that letter here, and He who guarded me will guard me still." "Wouldst thou dare to go without an escort?" "I would rather have a sword I could not lift than have an escort," replied Kanana. "By the beard of the Prophet, my son, there is both foolishness and wisdom in thy words. Thou shall take the messages by one route, and by another I will send the soldiers with copies. It may be that Allah guides thy tongue. When wilt thou start?" "Now," replied Kanana. "That was well spoken," said the caliph. "What camels and servants shall be provided?" "My father," said Kanana, "as I came a little way with the caravan which arrived to-day, I noted the white camel that took the lead. I never saw so great power of speed and endurance in a camel of the plain. The man who led him knew him well and was easily obeyed. I would have the two, none other, and the swiftest dromedary in Mecca, with grain for fourteen days." The caliph shook his head: "It will be twenty days and more." "My father, the burden must be light that the sand lie loose beneath their feet, and small, that it tempt no envious eye." Then, in the direct simplicity resulting from his lonely life, Kanana added, "If it is a three weeks' journey for others, in fourteen days thy messages shall be delivered." The caliph summoned an officer, saying, "Go to the caravan at the Moabede Gate. Say that Omar requires the white camel and the man who leads it; none other. Bid Ebno'l Hassan prepare my black dromedary and food for the two for fourteen days. Have everything at the gate, ready to start, in half an hour." Then to a slave, he added, "Give to the son of the Terror of the Desert the best that the house affords to eat and drink." Without another word the caliph left the room to prepare the messages. The slave hurried to produce a sumptuous feast. The officer left the house to execute the orders of the man whose word was law. Alone, Kanana sat down again upon the mat and buried his face in his hands, as though he were quietly preparing himself to sleep. Only a whisper escaped his lips. The words were the same which he had angrily spoken under the shadow of Mount Hor, but the voice was very different: "This is my great reward for giving a cup of water to the thirsty. _La Illaha il Allah!_" The slave placed the food beside him, but he did not notice it. Not until the caliph entered again did he suddenly look up, exclaiming, "This shepherd's coat would not be fitting the dignity of the white camel. I must have an _abbe_ to cover it, and a mantle to cover my face, that Mecca may not see a beardless youth going upon a mission for the great caliph." They were quickly provided. The camel and its driver were at the gate, with the black dromedary. All was ready, and with the mantle drawn over his beardless face, and the _abbe_ covering his sheepskin coat, Kanana knelt and received the blessing of the Caliph Omar. As he rose from his knees, the caliph handed him, first the letters, which Kanana placed in his bosom, and next a bag of gold which Kanana held in his hand for an instant; then, scornfully, he threw it upon the mat, remarking, "My father, I have already received a richer reward than all the gold of Mecca." The caliph only smiled: "Let each one dance according to the music which he hears. My son, I see the future opening before thee. This is not thy last mission. I read it in thy destiny that thou wilt succeed, and succeed again, until the name of Kanana be written among the greatest of those who have lifted the lance for Allah and Arabia. Go now, and God go with thee." VII A PRIZE WORTH WINNING There was a group of several people standing about the caliph's gate as Kanana emerged. They were apparently waiting, in careless curiosity, to see the white camel start, and learn what they could of what was going on in official departments. The information they received was very meager, yet it proved sufficient for more than one. They saw the white camel rise, with the veiled messenger of Omar upon its back. As the driver looked up to receive his first command their necks were bent in a way that betrayed their eagerness to hear. Only one word was spoken, however. It was "Tayf," the name of a city a short distance to the east of Mecca. The camel-driver's cry sounded again through the streets, but the twilight shadows were gathering. There were few abroad, and the cries were not so loud or so often repeated as in the afternoon. When they ceased altogether, Kanana had turned his back upon Mecca forever. The night wind blew cool and refreshing from the surrounding hills as the little caravan moved out upon the plain, but Kanana was ill at ease. It was still as death in the valley. Far as the eye could penetrate the darkness they were all alone, except for five horsemen who left the gate of Mecca not long after the white camel, and were now riding slowly toward Tayf, a short distance behind it. Ever and again Kanana looked back at them. The faint shadows, silently moving onward through the gloom, were always there; never nearer; never out of sight. Leaning forward, he spoke in a low voice to the driver, "You walk as though you were weary. The dromedary was brought for you. Mount it, and follow me." "Master," replied the driver, "the white camel is obstinate. He will only move for one whom he knows well." "You speak to the wind," muttered Kanana. "Do as I bid thee. Hear my words. Yonder black dromedary has the fleetest foot in Mecca. He is the pride of the Caliph Omar. Mount him, and if you can overtake me while I drive the white camel, you shall throw the dust of the desert in the face of Raschid Airikat, and have the white camel for your own." The driver started back, and stood staring at the veiled messenger of Omar. The word, "Mount!" was sternly repeated. Then he quickly obeyed, evidently bewildered, but well satisfied that he would have an easy task before him, from the moment the white camel realized that a stranger was in command. Kanana spoke, and the camel started. The dromedary moved forward close behind it without a word from the driver. The horsemen had approached no nearer while they waited, though Kanana had purposely given them time enough to pass, had they not halted when he halted. They were still five silent shadows upon the distant sand. "Faster," said Kanana, and the long legs of the white camel swung out a little farther over the sand and moved more rapidly, in response. The dromedary immediately quickened its pace without urging, and, a moment later, from far in the distance, the night wind brought the sound of horses' hoofs through the silent valley. It was very faint, but distinct enough to indicate that the shadows behind them had broken into a canter. The camel-driver gave little heed to his surroundings. He was too thoroughly engrossed in the prospect of owning the white camel to care who might be coming or going in a way as safe as that from Tayf to Mecca. Kanana, however, who could walk through the streets of the holy city without so much as knowing what the houses were made of, would have heard the wings of a night-moth passing him, or seen a sand-bush move, a quarter of a mile away. His life as a shepherd had, after all, not been wasted. "Faster," said Kanana, touching the camel's neck with his shepherd's staff, and without even the usual grunt of objection, the animal obeyed. The sand began to fly from his great feet as they rested upon it for an instant, then left it far behind; the Bedouin boy sat with eyes fixed on the path before him, and his head bent so that he could catch the faintest sounds coming from behind. The mantle that had covered his face fell loosely over his shoulder. The dromedary lost a little ground for a moment, but gathering himself together, easily made it up. The driver was too sure of the final result to urge him unduly at the start. Soon enough the white camel would rebel of his own accord, and till then it was quite sufficient to keep pace with him. The sound of horses' hoofs became sharper and more distinct, and Omar's messenger knew that the five shadows were being pressed to greater speed, and were drawing nearer. "Faster!" said Kanana, and the white camel broke into a run, swinging in rapid motions from side to side, as two feet upon one side, then two on the other were thrown far in front of him and, in an instant, left as far behind. Still the dromedary made light work of keeping close upon his track, evidently realizing what was expected of him; but the driver saw with dismay how quickly the camel responded to the word of his rider, how easily the man sat upon the swaying back--how carefully he selected the best path for the animal, and how skillfully he guided him so that he could make the best speed with the least exertion. Many a night Kanana had run unsaddled camels about the pastures of the Beni Sads, guarding the sleeping sheep and goats, little dreaming for what he was being educated. The sound of horses' hoofs grew fainter. They were losing ground, but now and then the listening ear caught the sharp cry of an Arab horseman urging his animal to greater speed. "They are in earnest," muttered the Bedouin boy, "but they will not win the race." "Faster!" said Kanana; the camel's head dropped till his neck lost its graceful curve, and the great white ship of the desert seemed almost flying over the billowy sand. For a moment the dromedary dropped behind. The driver had to use the prod and force him to the very best that was in him, before he was able to regain the lost ground. The sound of hoofs could no longer be heard, and Kanana was obliged to listen with the utmost care to catch the faintest echo of a distant voice. "They are doing their best and are beaten, but we can do still better," he said to himself with a deep sigh of relief, as he watched the desert shrubs fly past them in fleeting shadows, scudding over the silver-gray sand. The music of the sand, as it flew from the camel's feet and fell like hail upon the dry leaves of the desert shrubs, was a delightful melody, and hour after hour they held the rapid pace; over low hills and sandy plains; past the mud village and the well that marks the resting-place for caravans, a night's journey from Mecca, without a sign of halting; and on and on, the dromedary always just so far behind, always doing his best to come nearer. If by urging he was brought a little closer to the camel, the driver heard that low word, "Faster!" and in spite of him the camel gained again. Would he never stop? The sounds from behind had long been lost when, far in advance, appeared the regular caravan from Tayf. They approached it like the wind. Only the mystic salaam of the desert was solemnly exchanged, then, in a moment, the trailing train as it crept westward was left, disappearing in the darkness behind them. When it was out of sight the white camel suddenly changed its course, turning sharply to the north of east and striking directly over the desert, away from the hills and the beaten track to Tayf which he had been following. The driver could not imagine that such a man as sat upon the white camel had lost his way. He silently followed till they passed a well that marked the second night's journey from Mecca toward Persia. The driver and dromedary would very willingly have stopped here; but the camel glided onward before them through the changing shadows of the night, as though it were some phantom, and not a thing of flesh and blood. By dint of urging, the driver brought the dromedary near enough to call: "Master, we are not upon the road to Tayf." "No," said Kanana, but the camel still held his course. Driven to desperation, as the eastern sky was brightening, the driver called again: "Master, you will kill the camel!" "Not in one night," said Kanana; "but if you value your own life, come on!" Faster still and faster the white camel swept toward the glowing east, but the dromedary had done his best. He could not do better. More and more he fell behind, and in spite of every effort of the driver, the pride of the caliph was beaten. Fainter and fainter grew the outline of the white camel against the morning sky, ever swinging, swinging, swinging, over the silver-gray sea, with a motion as regular and firm as though it had started but an hour before. As the red disc of the fiery sun rose out of the desert, however, the driver saw the camel pause, turn half about, till his huge outline stood out in bold relief against the sky, and then lie down. Quickly Kanana dismounted. He caressed the camel for a moment, whispering, "We are two days and a half from Mecca! Thou hast done better than I hoped. Thou didst remember me yesterday in the temple court. To-night thou hast cheerfully given every atom of thy strength to help me. To-morrow we shall be far apart. Allah alone knows for what or for how long; but if we ever meet again thou wilt remember me. Yes, thou wilt greet thy Kanana." The boy's dark eyes were bright with tears as he gave the camel the best of the food provided for him; then, with sand in stead of water performing the morning ablution, he faced toward Mecca. When the dromedary and his rider reached the spot, the veiled messenger of Omar was solemnly repeating his morning prayer. VIII TO SEEK THE BENI SADS All in vain the camel driver sought to obtain one glimpse beneath the mantle, to see the face of the caliph's messenger or to learn anything of their destination. He prepared their very frugal breakfast without a fire, and, when it was eaten, in the humble, reproachful tone of one who felt himself unjustly suspected, he said: "My master, why didst thou deceive me, saying we should go to Tayf? Didst thou think that I would not willingly and freely lead the white camel anywhere, to serve the great caliph?" "There were other ears than yours to hear," replied Kanana. "There were only beggars at the gate, my master. Dost thou believe I would be treacherous to a servant of Omar and the Prophet?" "I believe that every child of Ishmael will serve himself," replied Kanana; "but that had nothing to do with what I said. Before we start to-night, I will lay out your path before you, to the very end. As for the beggars, where were your senses? For three days, in disguise, I journeyed with the caravan of Raschid Airikat, as it came to Mecca. I saw in him a treacherous man, and when he yielded to a command he must obey and gave me the white camel and his driver, I knew that he would take them back again by stealth and treachery, if he were able to. Have I no eyes, that I should spend three days with the caravan and then not recognize the servants of Airikat, though they were dressed as beggars and slunk away, with covered faces, into the shadows of the caliph's gate? They did not cover their feet, and by their feet I knew them, even when they deceived you, one of their own. To them I said, 'Go, tell your master that his white camel is on the way to Tayf.'" "My master," said the driver, respectfully, "the sheik Airikat is as devout as he is treacherous and brave. He gave the sacred camel and thy servant willingly, at the command of Omar, for the service of Allah and Arabia. I do not think he would deal treacherously." Kanana did not reply, for far away over the desert, to the east, there was a little speck of dark, like a faint shadow, upon the sand. He sat in silence watching it through the folds of his mantle, as it grew larger and larger, and a long caravan approached. The camels were worn out from a long journey. Their heads hung down, and their feet dragged languidly over the sand. Their slow progress had belated them, and the sun would be several hours above the desert when they reached the oasis by the well, which the two had passed before daylight. As they drew nearer it could easily be seen that the camels bore no burdens but necessary food, in sacks that were nearly empty, and that their riders were savage men from the eastern borders of Arabia. "Master, do they see us?" muttered the driver. "They have eyes," replied Kanana. And they had. A fresh dromedary and a white camel alone upon the desert, were a tempting prize. They evidently determined to appropriate them; for, leaving the main body of the caravan standing in the path, twenty or more turned suddenly, and came directly toward them. "Master, we must fly from them," whispered the driver. "If they were behind us I would fly," replied Kanana, "for every step would be well taken; but my path lies yonder." He pointed directly toward the caravan. "And I would not turn from it though devils instead of men were in the way." "It is the will of Allah. We are lost," muttered the camel-driver, and his arms dropped sullenly upon his knees, in the dogged resignation to fate so characteristic of the Bedouin. Kanana made no reply, but, repeating from the Koran, "'Whatever of good betideth thee cometh from Him,'" he rose and walked slowly to where the white camel was lying. Upon the high saddle, which had not yet been removed, hung the inevitable lance and sword, placed there by the officer of the caliph. Leaning back against the saddle to await the approach of the caravan, the Bedouin boy threw his right hand carelessly across the hilt of the Damascus blade, exposing, almost to the shoulder, the rounded muscles of the powerful arm of--a shepherd lad. The caravan drew nearer and finally halted when the leader was less than ten paces from the white camel. His envious eyes had been gloating over the tempting prize as he approached; but gradually they became fastened upon that hand and arm, while the fingers that were playing gently upon the polished hilt seemed to beckon him on to test the gleaming blade beneath. He could not see the beardless face, protected by the mantle. How could he know that that hand had never drawn a sword? The whole appearance indicated a man without one thought of fear, and the savage chief realized that, before the white camel became his prize, some one beside its present owner would doubtless pay a dear price for it. He was still determined to possess it, but the silent figure demanded and received respect from him. [Illustration: THE SILENT FIGURE DEMANDED AND RECEIVED RESPECT.] Instead of the defiant words which were upon his tongue, he pronounced the desert greeting. Kanana returned the salutation, and immediately asked, "Did the dust from Kahled's host blow over you when your foot was on the sand of Bashra?" The sheik drew back a little. It was a slight but very suggestive motion, speaking volumes to the keen eye of the Bedouin boy. He had been leaning forward before, more than is natural even to one tired out with sitting upon a camel's back. It was as if in his eagerness he was reaching forward to grasp the prize. Now he seemed suddenly to have lost that eagerness. Quickly, Kanana took advantage of the hint. He drew from his bosom the letter of the caliph, sealed with the great seal of Mohammed, which every Mussulman could recognize, and calmly holding it plainly in view, he continued: "The beak of the vulture has whitened, instead of the bones he would have plucked. The tooth of the jackal is broken, and not the flesh he would have torn. Raschid Airikat is neither at Damascus nor Mecca. To-morrow morning he will be at Tayf. He would have you meet him there. Say to him, 'The fool hath eaten his own folly. The veiled messenger of the Prophet, sitting upon the sacred camel, glides with the night wind into the rising sun; for the fire is lighted in Hejaz that at Bashra shall cause the camels' necks to shine.'" A decided change came over the savage face of the Arab sheik. He sat in silence for a moment, then, without a word, drove the prod into his camel. There was a grunt and a gurgling wail, and the tired animal was moving on, followed by all the rest. Kanana and his camel-driver were left alone. When they were well out of hearing the driver prostrated himself before Kanana, touching his forehead to the ground, and asked: "Master, who was that sheik, with all his warriors, and who art thou that they should cower before thy word?" "I am no one to receive your homage. Stand upon your feet!" almost shouted Kanana. "I never saw nor heard of them until to-day." He breathed a deep, quivering sigh, and leaned heavily upon the saddle; for every muscle in his body shook and trembled as the result of what had seemed so calm and defiant. He tried to replace the letter in his bosom, but his hand trembled so that he was obliged to wait. "Thou knewest that he was of the tribe of Raschid Airikat, and that he came from Bashra," said the driver. "I knew nothing," replied Kanana, petulantly, in the intense reaction. "How long have you been a man, well taught in killing other men, not to see what any cowardly shepherd boy could read? Were not their lances made of the same peculiar wood; and their camel saddles, were they not the same, stained with the deep dye of Bashra? Who should come out of the rising sun, with his camel licking the desert sand, if he came not from Bashra? Who should be going toward Mecca at this season, without a burdened camel in his caravan, if he went not to meet his chief for war? Why did Airikat crowd his caravan, day and night, if he expected no one?" "But, master, Airikat is at Mecca, not at Tayf," said the camel-driver. "Bedouin, where are your eyes and ears?" exclaimed Kanana, scornfully. "Your paltry beggars at the caliph's gate carried my message swiftly. We had not left the gate of Mecca out of sight when on the road behind us came Airikat and four followers. While you were struggling to reach the white camel, they did their best to overtake us both, but we outstripped them. We kept upon the way till we had passed the nightly caravan. They would have to rest their horses at the well, and the caravan would halt there, too. They would inquire for us, and the caravan would answer, 'We passed the white camel running like the wind toward Tayf.' Enough. Airikat with his horsemen cannot reach there before the next sunrise, and when he learns the truth he will be five days behind us. From him and yonder caravan by the help of Allah we are safe. If you would learn a lesson, by the way, let it be this: that man can conquer man without a sword or lance. Sleep on it." Setting the example, Kanana removed the camel's saddle, fastened his hind foot to his haunch with the twisted rope so that he could not rise, and sank upon the sand beside him, laying his head upon the creature's neck. The last words which he heard from his driver were: "Master, thou art mightier than Airikat and all his warriors." The sun beat fiercely down all day upon his resting-place; but Kanana's sleep was sweeter than if the cool starlight had been over him, or a black tent of the Beni Sads; because, for that one day at least, his head was pillowed upon the white camel's neck. It was late in the afternoon before he woke, and the sun was setting when the little caravan was again prepared to start. They were ready to mount when the driver came to the white camel. He laid his hand upon the dingy haunch, and said, in a voice that was strangely pleading for a fierce Bedouin: "Master, do not crowd him over-hard to-night. He obeys too willingly. He is tired from a long journey. It is four weeks since he has rested. I would rather you would kill me than the white camel." Kanana thought for a moment, then taking his shepherd's staff from the saddle, he replied: "You can tell better than I how he should be driven. Mount him, and I will ride the dromedary." To the driver this was only Arab sarcasm, and he hesitated till Kanana silently pointed his staff toward the saddle, and the driver was more afraid to refuse than to obey. Kanana turned and mounted the dromedary. As the camel rose to his feet, a strange temptation sent the blood tingling to the driver's finger-tips. The dromedary was unarmed. The messenger of Omar held only a shepherd's staff. Almost unconsciously his hand clutched the hilt of the Damascus blade, betraying the fact that it was better used to holding such a thing than the rope that led the white camel through Mecca. Quickly the driver looked back, to see Kanana quietly watching him. Instantly his hand dropped the hilt, but it was too late. Scornfully Kanana said: "Lo! every child of Ishmael, from the devout Raschid to the faithful camel-driver, will serve himself. Nay, keep the hand upon the sword. Perchance there will be better cause to use it than in defying me. From here our paths must separate. I promised that to-night I would lay out your course for you. It is northward, without swerving, for ten nights, at least." "And whither goest thou, my master?" "That only Allah can direct, from day to day. _La Illaha il Allah!_" "And what is my mission to be?" asked the driver, anxiously. "It is to seek the Beni Sads; to find the aged chief, the Terror of the Desert; to say to him, 'Kanana hath fulfilled his vow.' He hath not lifted the lance against Airikat; but thy white camel is returned to thee, bearing thy first-born upon his back. Go, and God go with thee!" "Who art thou?" cried the man upon the white camel, starting from his seat as the dromedary gave the usual grunt, in answer to the prod, and moved away. The Bedouin boy turned in the saddle, tore off the _abbe_ and the mantle that covered him, and clad in the sheepskin coat and desert turban answered: "I am thy brother Kanana, the coward of the Beni Sads!" IX FOR ALLAH AND ARABIA "Kanana! our Kanana!" cried the brother, striking the camel's neck. The dingy dignity of the great white camel was ruffled by the blow received, and he expressed his disapproval in a series of grunts before he made any attempt to start. "Kanana! Kanana!" the brother called again, seeing the dromedary already merging into the shadows; but the only response he received was from the shepherd's staff, extended at arm's length pointing northward. "My young brother shall not leave me in this way. He has no weapon of defense and only a little of the grain." Again he struck the camel a sharp blow as the animal began very slowly to move forward. The black dromedary was hardly distinguishable from the night, and was rapidly sinking into the deepening shadows before the camel was fairly on the way. "Go!" cried the rider savagely, striking him again, and the camel moved a little faster; but he made slow and lumbering work, for he was not at all pleased with his treatment. The rider's eyes were fixed intently upon the dim outline sinking away from him. The last he saw of it was the hand and arm, still holding the extended shepherd's staff, pointing to the north. Then all was lost. He kept on in that direction for an hour, but it was evident that he had begun in the wrong way with the camel, and that he was not forcing him to anything like his speed of the night before. It was beyond his power to overtake the dromedary, and doubly chagrined he gave up the race and turned northward. The path before Kanana was the highway between Persia and Mecca. At some seasons it was almost hourly traversed, but at midsummer only absolute necessity drove the Arabs across the very heart of the desert. In the height of the rainy season there were even occasional pools of water in the hollows, here and there. Later there was coarse, tough grass growing, sometimes for miles along the way. Little by little, however, they disappeared. Then the green of each oasis shrank toward the center, about the spring or well, and often before midsummer was over, they too had dried away. The prospect of loneliness, however, was not at all disheartening to Kanana. He had no desire to meet with any one, least of all with such parties as would be apt to cross the desert at this season. If a moving shadow appeared in the distance, he turned well to one side and had the dromedary lie down upon the sand till it passed. The black dromedary was fresh, and the Bedouin boy knew well how to make the most of his strength while it lasted; but it was for Allah and Arabia that they crossed the desert, and Kanana felt that neither his own life nor that of the dromedary could be accounted of value compared with the demand for haste. He paid no heed to the usual camping-grounds for caravans, except to be sure that he passed two of them every night till the dromedary's strength began to fail. Each morning the sun was well upon its way before he halted for the day, and long before it set again he was following his shadow upon the sand. More and more the dromedary felt the strain. When twelve nights had passed, the pride of the caliph was anything but a tempting prize, and Kanana would hardly have troubled himself to turn out for a caravan even if he had thought it a band of robbers. The Bedouin boy, too, was thoroughly worn and exhausted. For days they had been without water, checking their thirst by chewing the prickly leaves of the little desert vine that is the last sign of life upon the drying sand. No dew fell at this season, and Kanana realized that it was only a matter of hours as to how much longer they could hold out. Morning came without a sign of water or of life, as far as the eye could reach. The sun rose higher, and Kanana longed for the sight of a human being as intensely as at first he had dreaded it. Nothing but the ghastly bones of men and animals bleaching among the sand-shrubs showed him that he was still upon the highway to Bashra. Out of the glaring silver-gray, the fiery sun sailed into the lusterless blue of the dry, hot sky, leaving the two separated by the eternal belt of leaden clouds that never rise above a desert-horizon and never disperse in rain. Kanana halted only for his morning prayer, and, when it was finished, the petition that he added for himself was simply "Water! water! O Allah! give us water." Each day the heat had become more intense, and to-day it seemed almost to burn the very sand. As Kanana mounted again and started on, his tired eyes sought anxiously the glaring billows for some sign of life; but not a living thing, no shadow even, broke the fearful monotony. There were gorgeous promises, but they did not deceive the eyes that had looked so often along the sand. There were great cities rising upon the distant horizon, with stately domes and graceful minarets such as were never known throughout the length and breadth of Arabia. And when the bells ceased tolling in Kanana's ears, he could hear the muezzin's call to prayer. Then the bells would toll again and he would mutter, "Water! water! O Allah! give us water." He had no longer any heart to urge the tired dromedary to a faster pace. He knew that it would only be to see him fall, the sooner, upon the sand. The tired creature's head hung down till his nose touched the earth as he plodded slowly onward. The sun rose higher. It was past the hour when they always stopped, but neither thought of stopping. Waiting would not bring the water to them, and the Bedouin boy knew well that to lie on the desert sand that day meant to lie there forever. The dromedary knew it as well as his master, and without a word to urge him, he kept his feet slowly moving onward, like an automaton, with his nose thrust forward just above the sand, as though he too were pleading: "Water! water! O Allah! give us water." His eyes were closed. His feet dragged along the sand. Kanana did not attempt to guide him, though he swayed from side to side, sometimes reeling and almost falling over low hillocks which he made no effort to avoid. Kanana could scarcely keep his own eyes open. The glare of the desert was blinding; but their last hope lay in his watchfulness. He struggled hard to keep back the treacherous drowsiness, but his head would drop upon one shoulder, then upon the other. He could have fallen from the saddle and stretched himself upon the sand to die without a struggle, had it not been for the caliph's letter in his bosom. Again and again he pressed his hand upon it to rouse himself, and muttered, "By the help of Allah, I will deliver it." Each time that this roused him he shaded his eyes and sought again the sand before him; but glaring and gray it stretched away to the horizon, without one shadow save that of the forest of low and brittle sand-shrubs. The burning sky grew black above him, and the desert became a fiery red. The dromedary did not seem like a living thing. He thought he was sitting upon his perch in the harvest field. The sun seemed cold, as its rays beat upon his head. He shivered and unconsciously drew the wings of his turban over his face. No wonder it was cold. It was the early morning under Mount Hor. Yes, there were all the blue forget-me-nots. How the stream rippled and gurgled among them! He started. What was that shock that roused him? Was it the robbers coming down upon him? He shook himself fiercely. Was he sleeping? He struggled to spring to his feet, but they were tangled in something. At last his blood-shot eyes slowly opened and consciousness returned. The dromedary had fallen to the ground, beside--an empty well. Kanana struggled to his feet and looked down among the rocks. The bottom was as dry as the sand upon which he was standing. He looked back at the dromedary. Its eyes were shut. Its neck was stretched straight out before it on the sand, its head rested upon the rocks of the well. "Thou hast given thy life for Allah and Arabia," Kanana said, "and when the Prophet returns in his glory, he will remember thee." He took the sack of camel's food from the saddle and emptied the whole of it where the dromedary could reach it. Then he cut the saddle-straps and dragged the saddle to one side. It was all that he could do for the dumb beast that had served him. Suddenly he noticed that the sun was setting. All the long day he must have slept, while the poor dromedary had crept onward toward the well. It had not been a healthful sleep, but it refreshed him, and combined with the excitement of waking and working for the dromedary, he found his tongue less parched than before. Quickly he took a handful of wheat and began to chew it vigorously; a secret which has saved the life of many a Bedouin upon the great sea of sand. For a moment he leaned upon the empty saddle chewing the wheat, watching the sun sink into the sand and thinking. "Thirteen days," he muttered. "I said fourteen when I started, but we have done better than three days in two. If we did not turn from the way to-day, this well is but one night from Bashra. _O Allah! Mahamoud rousol il Allah!_ give thy servant life for this one night." The dromedary had not moved to touch the food beside him, and there was no hope of further help from the faithful animal. Kanana stood beside it for a moment, laid his hand gratefully upon the motionless head, then took up his shepherd's staff and started on. Sometimes waking, sometimes sleeping as he walked, sometimes thinking himself far away from the sands of Bashra, sometimes urging himself on with a realization that he must be near his journey's end, he pressed steadily on and on, hour after hour. Sometimes he felt fresh enough to start and run. Sometimes he wondered if he had the strength to lift his foot and put it forward another time. Sometimes he felt sure that he was moving faster than a caravan, and that he should reach Bashra before morning. Sometimes it seemed as though the willing spirit must leave the lagging flesh behind as he had left the dromedary, and go on alone to Bashra. Then he would press the sacred letter hard against his bosom and repeat, "By the help of Allah I will deliver it!" And all the time, though he did not realize it, he was moving forward with swift and steady strides, almost as though he were inspired with superhuman strength. Far away to the east a little spark of light appeared. It grew and rose, till above the clouds there hung a thin white crescent; the narrowest line of moonlight. Kanana gave a cry of joy, for it was an omen which no Arab could fail to understand. Then the air grew cold. The darkest hour before the dawn approached, and the narrow moon served only to make the earth invisible. The dread of meeting any one had long ago left Kanana's mind. First he had feared it. Then he had longed for it. Now he was totally indifferent. He looked at the sky above him to keep his course. He looked at the sand beneath his feet; but he did not once search the desert before him. Suddenly he was roused from his lethargy. There were shadows just ahead. He paused, shaded his eyes from the sky and looked forward, long and earnestly. "It is not sand-shrubs," he muttered. "It is too high. It is not Bashra. It is too low. It is not a caravan. It does not move. It has no beginning and no end," he added, as he looked to right and left. "It is tents," he said a moment later, and a frown of anxiety gathered over his forehead. "Have I missed the way? No tribe so large as that would be tented near Bashra. If I turn back I shall die. If I go on--_La Illaha il Allah!_" he murmured, and resolutely advanced. As he drew nearer, the indistinguishable noises of the night in a vast encampment became plainly audible, but he did not hesitate. Following the Arab custom for every stranger in approaching a Bedouin camp, he paused at the first tent he reached, and standing before the open front repeated the Mussulman salutation. Some one within roused quickly, and out of the darkness a deep voice sounded in reply. Then Kanana repeated: "I am a wanderer upon the desert. I am far from my people." And the voice replied: "If you can lift the lance for Allah and Arabia, you are welcome in the camp of Kahled the Invincible." "_La Illaha il Allah!_" cried Kanana. "Guide me quickly to the tent of Kahled. I am a messenger to him from the great Caliph Omar." The earth reeled beneath the feet of Kanana as the soldier led the way. The general was roused without the formality of modern military tactics or even Mohammedan courtesies. A torch was quickly lighted. Kanana prostrated himself; then rising, he handed the precious packet to the greatest general who ever led the hosts of Mohammed. Kahled the Invincible broke the seal, but before he had read a single word, the Bedouin boy fell unconscious upon the carpet of the tent. As the soldiers lifted him, Kanana roused for an instant and murmured: "By the dry well, one night to the southwest, my black dromedary is dying of thirst. In Allah's name, send him water! He brought the message from Mecca in thirteen days!" Then the torch-light faded before his eyes, and Kanana's lips were sealed in unconsciousness. X KANANA'S THIRD MISSION A vast Mohammedan army, with its almost innumerable followers, was marching towards Syria, to meet the hosts of the Emperor Heraclius. Like a pillar of cloud the dust rose above the mighty throng. Armed horsemen, ten thousand strong, rode in advance. A veteran guard of scarred and savage men came next, mounted upon huge camels, surrounding Kahled the Invincible and his chief officers, who rode upon the strongest and most beautiful of Persian horses. A little distance behind were thousands of fierce warriors mounted on camels and dromedaries. Then came another vast detachment of camels bearing the tents, furniture, and provisions of the army; these were followed by a motley throng, comprising the families of many of the tribes represented in the front, while still another powerful guard brought up the rear. Behind the body-guard of Kahled and before the war-camels rode a smaller guard, in the center of which were two camels, bearing a litter between them. Upon this litter lay Kanana, shielded from the sun by a goat's-hair awning; for almost of necessity the army moved by daylight. It started an hour after sunrise, resting two hours at noon, and halting an hour before sunset. It moved more rapidly than a caravan, however, and averaged twenty-five miles a day. Close behind Kanana's litter walked a riderless dromedary. At the start it was haggard and worn. Its dark hair was burned to a dingy brown by the fierce heat of the desert; but even Kahled received less careful attention, and every day it gathered strength and held its head a little higher. The black dromedary was not allowed to carry any burden, but was literally covered with gay-colored cloths; decorating the pride of Omar the Great, that had brought the good news from Mecca to Bashra in less than thirteen days. Nothing pleasanter could have been announced to that terrible army of veterans surrounding the valiant Kahled, than that it was to face the mightiest host which the Emperor Heraclius could gather in all the north. There was not one in all that throng who doubted, for an instant, that Kahled could conquer the whole world if he chose, in the name of Allah and the Prophet. Many of the soldiers had followed him since the day, years before, when he made his first grand plunge into Persia. They had seen him made the supreme dictator of Babylonia. They had seen him send that remarkable message to the great monarch of Persia: "Profess the faith of Allah and his Prophet, or pay tribute to their servants. If you refuse I will come upon you with a host that loves death as much as you love life." Once before had they seen him summoned from his triumphs in Persia, because all of the Mohammedan generals and soldiers in Syria were not able to cope with the power of Heraclius. They had seen him invested with the supreme power by the Caliph Abu-Bekr, Omar's predecessor, and watched while, single-handed, he fought and conquered the great warrior, Romanus. Most of them had been with him before the walls of Damascus, when he besieged that magnificently fortified city upon one side, and fought and conquered an army of a hundred thousand men upon the other side, sent from Antioch, by Heraclius, for the relief of the great city. Then they witnessed the fall of Damascus, and followed Kahled as he attacked and put to flight an army outnumbering his by two to one, and equipped and drilled in the most modern methods of Roman warfare. They had fought with him in the fiercest battles ever recorded of those desert lands, and they only knew him as Kahled the Invincible. After Abu-Bekr had died and Omar the Great had taken his place, the proud soldiers saw their general unjustly deposed and given such minor work as tenting about the besieged cities, while others did the fighting, until he left Syria in disgust. No wonder they were glad to see him recalled to take his proper place. They jested without end about the cowards who were frightened because Heraclius had threatened to annihilate the Mussulmans. And the march was one grand holiday, in spite of heat and hardships. As Kanana lay in his litter and listened to these bursts of eloquence in praise of the general, he was often stirred with ardent patriotism and almost persuaded to cast his lot among the soldiers; but the same odd theories which before had prevented his taking up a lance, restrained him still. On the fourth day he left the litter and took his seat upon the black dromedary. Kahled directed that costly garments and a sword and lance be furnished him, but Kanana prostrated himself before the general and pleaded: "My father, I never held a lance, and Allah knows me best in this sheepskin coat." Kahled frowned, but Kanana sat upon the decorated dromedary precisely as he left the perch in the harvest-field. He expected to take his place with the camp-followers in the rear, but found that he was still to ride in state surrounded by the veteran guard. Indeed, he became a figure so celebrated and conspicuous that many a warrior in passing, after prostrating himself before the general, touched his forehead to the ground before Kanana and the black dromedary. It might have made a pleasant dream, while sitting upon the perch in the harvest-field, but the reality disturbed him, and again he began to plan some means of escape. He carefully computed the position of the Beni Sad encampment, and determined the day when the army would pass but a few miles to the east of it. One who has not lived upon the desert, and seen it illustrated again and again, can scarcely credit the accuracy with which a wandering Bedouin can locate the direction and distance to any point with which he is familiar; but even then Kanana was at a loss as to how to accomplish his purpose when the whole matter was arranged for him, and he was supplied with a work which he could perform for Allah and Arabia, still holding his shepherd's staff and wearing his sheepskin coat. The army halted for the night upon the eve of the day when it would pass near the encampment of the Beni Sads. The tent which Kanana occupied was pitched next that of Kahled. He sat upon the ground eating his supper. All about him was the clatter and commotion of the mighty host preparing for the night, when he heard an officer reporting to the general that in three days the supply of grain would be exhausted. "My father," he exclaimed, prostrating himself before the general, "thy servant's people, the Beni Sads, must be less than a night's journey to the north and west. They were harvesting six weeks ago, and must have five hundred camel-loads of grain to sell. Bid me go to them to-night, and, with the help of Allah, by the sunrise after to-morrow it shall be delivered to thy hand." Kahled had formed a very good opinion of the Bedouin boy. He had noticed his uneasiness, and, suspecting that he would make an endeavor to escape, he had been searching for some occupation that should prevent it by rendering him more content to remain. He felt that a time might come when Kanana, with his sheepskin coat and shepherd's staff, might be of greater value to him than many a veteran with costly _abbe_ and gleaming sword. The result was an order that, one hour after sunset, Kanana should start, at the head of a hundred horsemen, with ten camels laden with treasure for the purchase of grain, with twenty camels bearing grain-sacks, and one with gifts from Kahled to the Terror of the Desert, in acknowledgment of the service rendered by his son. When he had purchased what grain the Beni Sads would sell, he was to continue in advance of the army, securing supplies to the very border of Syria. Kanana was no prodigy of meekness that he should not appreciate this distinction. A prouder boy has never lived, in Occident or Orient, than the Bedouin shepherd who sat upon the black dromedary and publicly received the general's blessing and command of the caravan. In any other land there might have been rebellion among a hundred veteran horsemen, when placed under command of a boy in a sheepskin coat, armed only with a shepherd's staff, but there was no man of them who had not heard wonderful tales of Kanana's courage; and the shepherd who had left the harvest field six weeks before, known only as the coward of the Beni Sads, set his face toward home that night, followed by a hundred savage warriors who obeyed him as one of the bravest of all the Bedouins. As the caravan moved rapidly over the plain, bearing its costly burden, it is hardly surprising that the beardless chief recalled his last interview with his angry father, when that veteran sheik refused to trust him with a single horse to start upon his mission; but he was none the less anxious to reach his father's tent and receive his father's blessing. XI THE SACRED GIRDLE Shortly after midnight five horsemen who rode in advance returned to report a large encampment, far away upon the left. Then Kanana took the lead as a brave Bedouin chieftain should, and, followed by the caravan, approached the smoldering fires which betrayed the location of the camp. He rode directly toward the tent of the sheik, which always stands in the outer line, farthest from a river or upon the side from which the guests of the tribe will be most likely to approach. As he approached, a shadow rose silently out of the shadows. It sniffed the air. Then there was a faint grunt of satisfaction and the shadow sank down into the shadows again. Kanana slipped from the back of the dromedary without waiting for him to lie down, and, running forward to the white camel, whispered, "I knew that thou wouldst know me." The Terror of the Desert appeared at the tent door with a hand raised in blessing. Kanana ran to his father with a cry of joy, and the white-haired sheik threw his arms about the neck of his son and kissed him, saying: "Forgive me, Kanana, my brave Kanana! I said that thou hadst come to curse me with thy cowardice, and lo! thou hast done grander, braver deeds than I in all my years! Verily, thou hast put me to shame, but it is with courage, not with cowardice." Kanana tried to speak, but tears choked him. All alone he could calmly face a score of savage robbers, armed to the teeth, but suddenly he discovered that he was only a boy, after all. He had almost forgotten it. And in helpless silence he clung to his father's neck. The old sheik roused himself. "Kanana," he exclaimed, "why am I silent? The whole tribe waits to welcome thee. Ho! every one who sleepeth!" he called aloud, "awake! awake! Kanana is returned to us!" Far and near the cry was repeated, and a moment later the people came hurrying to greet the hero of the Beni Sads. Not only had the brother returned with the white camel and a glowing account of his rescue by the veiled messenger of the caliph, but a special officer had come, by a passing caravan, bearing to the Terror of the Desert a bag of gold and the congratulations of Omar the Great, that he was the father of such a son. Now the gifts from Kahled the Invincible arrived, and the hundred horsemen obeying the voice of Kanana. The Beni Sads could scarcely believe their eyes and ears. Torches were lighted. Fires were rekindled and, before sunrise, the grandest of all grand Bedouin feasts was in full glory. Vainly, however, did the old sheik bring out the best robe to put it on him; with a ring for his hand and shoes for his feet; in a custom for celebrating a son's return which was old when the story of the Prodigal was told. Kanana only shook his head and answered, "My father, Allah knows me best barefooted and in this sheepskin coat." The Bedouin seldom tastes of meat except upon the occasion of some feast. When a common guest arrives, unleavened bread is baked and served with _ayesh_, a paste of sour camel's milk and flour. But Kanana was not a common guest. For one of higher rank coffee and melted butter is prepared, but these were not enough for a welcome to Kanana. For one still higher a kid or lamb is boiled in camel's milk and placed in a great wooden dish covered with melted fat and surrounded by a paste of wheat that has been boiled and dried and ground and boiled again with butter. Twenty lambs and kids were thus prepared, but the people were not satisfied. Nothing was left but the greatest and grandest dish which a Bedouin tribe can add to a feast in an endeavor to do honor to its noblest guest. Two she-camels were killed and the meat quickly distributed to be boiled and roasted. All for the boy who had left them, six weeks before, with no word of farewell but the parting taunt of a rat-catcher. While the men were eating the meat and drinking camel's milk and coffee, the women sang patriotic songs, often substituting Kanana's name for that of some great hero; and when the men had finished and the women gathered in the maharems to feast upon what was left, the Terror of the Desert, roused to the highest pitch of patriotism, declared his intention to join the army of Kahled, and nearly two hundred of the Beni Sads resolved to follow him. It was nearly noon when Kanana and those who were with him went to sleep in the goat's-hair tents, leaving the whole tribe at work, packing the grain-sacks, loading the camels, and cleaning their weapons for war. Kanana performed his mission faithfully, little dreaming that Kahled's one design in placing it in his hands was to keep him with the army for services of much greater importance. The time which the general anticipated came when the hosts of Kahled, joined by the Mohammedan armies of Syria and Arabia, were finally encamped at Yermonk upon the borders of Palestine. Kanana was summoned to the general's tent and, trembling like the veriest coward in all the world, he fell upon his face before the man to whom was entrusted the almost hopeless task of rescuing Arabia. To Kahled alone all eyes were turned and Kanana trembled, not because he was frightened, but because he was alone in the tent with one who seemed to him but little less than God himself. Kahled's words were always few and quickly spoken. "Son of the Terror of the Desert," said he, "many conflicting rumors reach me concerning the approaching enemy. I want the truth. I want it quickly. What dost thou require to aid thee in performing this duty?" Kanana's forehead still touched the ground. Overwhelmed by this sudden order, an attempt to obey which meant death, without mercy, without one chance in a hundred of escape, he altogether forgot to rise. Kahled sat in silence, understanding human nature too well to disturb the boy, and for five minutes neither moved. Then Kanana rose slowly and his voice trembled a little as he replied, "My father, I would have thy fleetest horse, thy blessing, and thy girdle." Kahled the Invincible wore a girdle that was known to every soldier and camp-follower of the army. It was of camel's-skin, soft-tanned and colored with a brilliant Persian dye, which as far away as it could be seen at all, no one could mistake. It was part of a magnificent curtain which once hung in the royal palace of Babylon. It pleased the fancy of the fierce warrior, and he wore it as a girdle till it became his only insignia. There was not a color like it within hundreds of miles at least, and when the people saw it they knew that it was Kahled. "Take what horse thou wilt," replied the general. "I give thee, now, my blessing." Then he hesitated for a moment. Had Kanana asked a hundred camels or a thousand horsemen he would have added, "Take them." As it was, he said, a little doubtfully, "What wouldst thou with my girdle?" In all the direct simplicity which clung to him in spite of everything, Kanana replied: "I would hide it under my coat; I would that it be proclaimed throughout the army that some one has fled to the enemy with the sacred girdle, and that a great reward be offered to him who shall return to Kahled any fragment of it he may find." Without another word, the general unwound the sacred girdle, and Kanana, reverently touching it to his forehead, bound it about him under his sheepskin coat. Kneeling, he received the blessing, and leaving the tent, he selected the best of Kahled's horses and disappeared in the darkness, alone. [Illustration: KNEELING, HE RECEIVED THE BLESSING.] The next morning an oppressive sense of inaction hung about the headquarters. The only order issued accompanied an announcement of the loss of the sacred girdle. Every soldier was commanded to be on the watch for it, to seize and to return at once to Kahled, even the smallest fragment which might be found. For this the fortunate man was promised as many gold coins as, lying flat, could be made to touch the piece which he returned. XII KANANA'S MESSENGERS Far and wide the impatient soldiers asked, "Why is the army inactive?" "Is not the motto of Kahled 'Waiting does not win'?" "Has he not taught us that action is the soul and secret of success?" "Does he not realize that the hosts of Heraclius are bearing down upon us, that he leaves us sitting idly in our tents?" "Is Kahled the Invincible afraid?" Such were the questions which they put to their officers, but no one dared carry them to the general, who sat in his tent without speaking, from sunrise to sunset, the first day after the girdle disappeared. "Is it the loss of his girdle?" "Did he not conquer Babylonia without it?" "Does he not fight in the name of Allah and the Prophet? Could a bright-colored girdle give him strength?" Thus the second day went by. Kahled the Invincible was silent and sullen, and the impression grew and grew that in some way the safety and success of the whole army depended upon the recovery of that girdle. So intense was this sentiment, that when at midnight, after the third day, it was reported that a fragment of the girdle had been captured by some scouts, and was then being taken to the general's tent, the whole army roused itself and prepared for action. Not an order had been issued, yet every soldier felt instinctively that the coming morning would find him on the march. It was midnight. For a day Kahled had not even tasted food. He sat alone in his tent upon a Persian ottoman. A bronze vessel from Babylonia, filled with oil, stood near the center of the tent. Fragments of burning wick, floating in the oil, filled the tent with a mellow, amber light. There was excitement without, but Kahled did not heed it till a soldier unceremoniously entered, bearing in his hand a part of the curtain from the palace of Babylon. With a sudden ejaculation Kahled caught it from the soldier's hand, but ashamed of having betrayed an emotion, he threw it carelessly upon the rug at his feet, handing the soldier a bag of gold, and bidding him see how many pieces, lying flat, could touch it. The soldier worked slowly, carefully planning the position as he laid the pieces down, and Kahled watched him as indifferently as though he were only moving men upon the Arab's favorite checker-board. When every piece that could was touching the camel skin, the soldier returned the bag, half-emptied, and began to gather up his share. Kahled deliberately emptied the bag, bidding him take the whole and go. He was leaving the tent when the general called him back. He had picked up the skin, and was carelessly turning it over in his hand. It was neatly cut from the girdle, in the shape of a shield, a little over a foot in width. "How did you come by it?" Kahled asked indifferently. "We were searching the plain, a day's journey to the north," the soldier answered. "We were looking for travelers who might bring tidings of the enemy. We saw four strangers, Syrians, riding slowly, and a shepherd who seemed to be their guide. Upon his horse's front, hung like a breastplate, where every eye could see, was yonder piece of the sacred girdle. We dashed upon them, and the cowards ran. The shepherd was the last to turn. I was ahead, but not near enough to reach him, so I threw my lance. He fell from his horse and--" "You killed him?" shrieked the general, springing to his feet and dropping the camel skin. "No! no!" gasped the frightened soldier. "I only tried to. He wore a coat of sheepskin. It was too thick for my lance. He sprang to his feet, tore the lance from his coat, and ran after the rest, faster even than they could ride, leaving his horse behind." "'Tis well," muttered the general, and he devoutly added, "Allah be praised for that sheepskin coat!" The soldier left the tent, and going nearer to the light, Kahled examined the fragment of the sacred girdle. It was double. Two pieces had been cut and the edges joined together. He carefully separated them, and upon the inner side found what he evidently expected. These words had been scratched upon the leather, and traced with blood: "Sixty thousand, from Antioch and Aleppo, under Jababal the traitor, encamp two days from Yermonk, north, waiting for Manuel with eighty thousand Greeks and Syrians, now six days away. Still another army is yet behind. Thy servant goes in search of Manuel when this is sent." "Allah be praised for that sheepskin coat!" Kahled repeated, placing the fragment in his belt, and walking slowly up and down the tent. "Jababal is two days to the north," he added presently. "A day ago Manuel was six days behind him. He will be still three days behind when I reach Jababal, and while he is yet two days away, the sixty thousand in advance will be destroyed." An order was given for ten thousand horsemen and fifteen thousand camel riders to start for the north at once. The soldiers expected it, and were ready even before the general. Four days and a night went by, and they were again encamped at Yermonk; but Jababal's army of sixty thousand men, was a thing of the past. Again a strip of the girdle was discovered. This time it hung upon the neck of a camel leading into the camp a long caravan laden with grain and fruit. The camel-driver reported that one had met them while they were upon the way to supply the army of Manuel. He had warned them that Manuel would simply confiscate the whole and make them prisoners, and had promised that if they turned southward instead, to the camp of Kahled, with the talisman which he hung about the camel's neck, they should be well received and fairly treated. From this talisman Kahled learned that the army of Manuel was almost destitute of provisions, and that a detachment with supplies was another five or six days behind. The general smiled as he thought how the Bedouin boy had shrewdly deprived the hungry enemy of a hundred and fifty camel-loads of food, while he secured for himself an excellent messenger to his friends. During the night Manuel's magnificent army arrived, and encamped just north of the Mohammedans. Manuel chose for his citadel a high cliff that rose abruptly out of the plain between the two armies, and ended in a precipitous ledge toward Arabia. Standing upon the brow of this cliff, a little distance from the tent of Manuel, one could look far down the valley, over the entire Mohammedan encampment. When morning dawned, the prince sent for the leading Mohammedan generals to confer with him concerning terms of peace. He offered to allow the entire army to retire unmolested, if hostages were given that the Arabs should never again enter Syria. The Mohammedan generals, who had been thoroughly dismayed at the sight of the Grecian phalanx, thanked Allah for such a merciful deliverance, and instantly voted to accept. The real authority, however, rested with Kahled, who replied, "Remember Jababal!" With so many in favor of peace, Manuel hoped for an acceptance of his terms, and proposed that they consider the matter for a day. Kahled, with his hand upon the camel-skin in his belt, replied again: "Remember Jababal!" He realized that his only hope of victory lay in striking a tired and hungry enemy, and that each hour's delay was dangerous. Less than half an hour later he was riding along the line of battle shouting the battle cry: "Paradise is before you! Fight for it!" The soldiers were ready, and there began the most desperate struggle that was ever waged upon the plains of Syria. All day long the furious conflict raged. Three times the Bedouins were driven back. Three times the cries and entreaties of their women and children in the rear urged them to renew the fight, and again they plunged furiously upon the solid Grecian phalanx. Night came, and neither army had gained or lost, but among the Bedouin captives taken by the Greeks were several who recognized Kanana. They saw him moving freely about the enemy's camp. They learned that he was supposed to be a servant who had fled, with other camp-followers, at the time of the slaughter of Jababal's army. They could see in it nothing but cowardly desertion. They said: "He was afraid that we should be conquered, and instead of standing by us to fight for Arabia, he ran to the enemy to hide himself;" and in their anger they betrayed him. They reported to the Greeks that he was a Bedouin, of the army of Kahled, not a Syrian servant of Jababal. Kanana was quickly seized, bound and dragged into the presence of the prince. Manuel had suspected that some one had betrayed both Jababal and himself to Kahled, and chagrined at the result of the first day's battle, he fiercely accused Kanana. Calmly the Bedouin boy admitted that it was he who had given the information, and he waited without flinching as Manuel drew his sword. "Boy, dost thou not fear to die?" he exclaimed, as he brandished his sword before Kanana. "I fear nothing!" replied Kanana proudly. "Take him away and guard him carefully," muttered the prince. "Dying is too easy for such as he. He must be tortured first." The second day and the third were like the first. The army of the Prophet fought with a desperation that never has been equaled. The Ishmaelite counted his life as nothing so that he saw a Greek fall with him. It was the fate of Allah and Arabia for which they fought, and they stood as though rooted to the ground, knowing of no retreat but death. Again and again their general's voice rang loud above the clashing arms: "Paradise is before you if you fight! Hell waits for him who runs!" And they fought and fought and fought, and not a man dared turn his back. Again and again the Grecian phalanx advanced, but they found a wall before them as solid as the cliff behind them. When a Bedouin lay dead he ceased to fight, but not before; and the moment he fell, another sprang forward from behind to take his place. XIII THE LANCE OF KANANA The army of the Prophet had not retreated one foot from its original position, when night brought the third day's battle to a close. Kahled sank upon the ground among his soldiers, while the women from the rear brought what refreshment they could to the tired warriors. All night he lay awake beside his gray battle-horse, looking at the stars and thinking. Flight or death would surely be the result of the coming day. Even Kahled the Invincible, had given up all hope of victory. He was too brave a man to fly, but he was also too brave to force others to stand and be slaughtered for his pride. It was a bitter night for him, but as the eastern sky was tinged with gray, he at last resolved to make the sacrifice himself, and save such of his people as he could. The women and children, with the wounded who could be moved, must leave at once, taking all that they could carry with them, and scatter themselves in every direction. When they were well away, he, with such as preferred to stand and die with him, would hold the foe in check while the rest of the army retreated, with orders to march at once to Mecca and Medina, and hold those two sacred cities as long as a man remained alive. He breathed a deep sigh when the plan was completed, and rising, mounted his tired charger, to see that it was properly executed. It was the first time in his career that Kahled the Invincible had ordered a retreat, and his only consolation was that he was neither to lead nor join in it. In the camp of Manuel the same dread of the coming day clouded every brow. Food was entirely exhausted. Horses and camels had been devoured. They had neither the means with which to move away, nor the strength to stand their ground. Their solid phalanx was only what the enemy saw along the front. Rank after rank had been supplied from the rear till there was nothing left to call upon. All that remained of the eighty thousand iron-hearted fighters--the pride of the Emperor Heraclius--as they gathered about the low camp fires, confessed that they were overmatched by the sharper steel of Mohammedan zeal and Bedouin patriotism. Manuel and his officers knew that for at least three days no relief could reach them; they knew, too, that they could not endure another day of fighting. "If we could make them think that their men are deserting and joining us, we might frighten them," suggested an officer. "Send for the spy," said Manuel quickly, "and let it be proclaimed to the other prisoners that all who will join us shall be set free, and that those who refuse shall be slaughtered without mercy." Haggard and worn Kanana stood before him. For fifty hours he had lain bound, in a cave at the foot of the cliff, without a drop of water or a morsel of food. "I am about to torture thee," said the prince. "Thou hast wronged me more than thy sufferings can atone, but I shall make them as bitter as I can. Hast thou anything to say before the work begins?" Kanana thought for a moment, then, hesitating as though still doubtful, he replied: "When the tempest rages on the desert, doth not the camel lay him down, and the young camel say to the drifting sand, 'Cover me; kill me, I am helpless'? But among the captives taken by the prince, I saw an old man pass my cave. He is full of years, and for him I would part my lips. I hear that the prince will have the prisoners slain, but it is not the custom of my people to make the women, the old men, and the children suffer with the rest. May it please the prince to double every torture he has prepared for me, and in exchange to set that old man free?" "Who is he?" asked the prince. "The one with a long white beard. There are not two," replied Kanana. "And what is he to you?" Kanana hesitated. "He shall die unless you tell me," said the prince, and Kanana's cold lips trembled as he whispered: "He is my father." "'Tis well," said Manuel. "Let him be brought." The old man entered, but paused at the opposite side of the tent, looking reproachfully at his son. He had heard from the other captives how they had discovered Kanana, a deserter in the hour of danger, living in the tents of the enemy. Even he had believed the tale, and he was enough of a patriot to be glad that they betrayed his son. "Is this thy father?" asked the prince. "He does not look it in his eyes." Kanana simply bowed his head. That look was piercing his heart far deeper than the threats of torture; but Manuel continued: "You have offered to suffer every torture I can devise if I will set him free. But you have not compassed your debt to me. You gave to Kahled the information by which he conquered Jababal. You gave him information which prevented his making terms of peace with me. But for you I should be on my way to Mecca and Medina, to sweep them from the earth. But I like courage, and you have shown more of it than Kahled himself. It is a pity to throw a heart like yours under a clod of earth, and I will give you an opportunity to save both yourself and your father. Stand upon the brow of the cliff yonder, as the sun comes up. There, according to the custom of your people, wave this lance above your head. Shout your own name and your father's, so that all of your people can hear, and tell them that in one hour thirty thousand Arabs will draw the sword for the cause of Heraclius. Then throw the lance, and if your aim be good, and you do kill an Arab, that moment I will set thy father free, and thou shalt be made a prince among my people. Do not refuse me, or, after I have tortured thee, with red-hot irons I will burn out thy father's eyes, lest he should still look savagely upon thy corpse!" He had scarcely ceased speaking when the old sheik exclaimed: "My son! My Kanana, I have wronged thee! Forgive me if thou canst, but let him burn out my eyes! Oh! not for all the eyes that watch the stars would I have a son of mine a traitor. Thou wouldst not lift a lance before. I charge thee now, by Allah, lift it not for any price that can be offered thee by this dog of an infidel!" Kanana did not look at his father. His eyes were fixed on Manuel, and when all was still, he asked: "Will the prince allow his captive to sit alone till sunrise and consider his offer?" "Take him out upon the cliff and let him sit alone," said Manuel; "but have the irons heated for his father's eyes." Kanana chose a spot whence he could overlook the valley, and whatever his first intentions may have been, he changed them instantly, with his first glance. He started, strained his eyes, and looked as far as his keen sight could pierce the gray light of early morning. Then his head sank lower and lower over his hands, lying in his lap, till the wings of his turban completely covered them. He did not move or look again. In that one glance he had recognized the result of Kahled's last resolve. In the gray distance he saw that laden camels were moving to the south. He saw the dark spots, most distant in the valley, suddenly disappear. They were folding their tents! They were moving away! Kahled the Invincible had ordered a retreat. Kanana knew that to retreat at that moment meant death to Arabia, but he did not move again till an officer touched him on the shoulder, and warned him that in a moment more the sun would rise. With a startled shudder he rose and entered Manuel's tent. "Is the word of the prince unchanged?" he asked. "If I speak the words and throw the lance and kill an Arab, that moment will he set my father free?" "I swear it by all the powers of earth and heaven!" replied the prince. "Give me the lance," said Kanana. His father crouched against the tent, muttering: "For such an act, Kanana, when I am set free I will find first a fire with which to heat an iron, and burn my own eyes out." Kanana did not heed him. He took the lance, tested it, and threw it scornfully upon the ground. "Give me a heavier one!" he exclaimed. "Do you think me like your Greek boys, made of wax? Give me a lance that, when it strikes, will kill." They gave him a heavier lance. "The hand-rest is too small for a Bedouin," he muttered, grasping it; "but wait! I can remedy that myself. Come. Let us have it over with." As he spoke he tore a strip from beneath his coat, and, turning sharply about, walked before them to the brink of the cliff, winding the strip firmly about the hand-rest of the lance. Upon the very edge he stood erect and waited. The sun rose out of the plain, and flashed with blinding force upon the Bedouin boy, clad in his sheepskin coat and desert turban, precisely as it had found him in the porch of Aaron's tomb, upon the summit of Mount Hor. His hand no longer held a shepherd's staff, but firmly grasped a Grecian lance, that gleamed and flashed as fiercely as the sun. Upon Mount Hor he was bending forward, eagerly shading his eyes, anxiously looking away into the dim distance, searching the path of his destiny. Now there was no eagerness. Calmly he stood there. Vainly the sun flashed in his clear, wide-open eyes. He did not even know that it was shining. Not a muscle moved. Why was he waiting? "Are you afraid?" muttered the prince, who had come as near as possible without being too plainly seen from below. "Remember your old father's eyes." Kanana did not turn his head, but calmly answered: "Do you see yonder a man upon a gray horse, moving slowly among the soldiers? He is coming nearer, nearer. That man is Kahled the Invincible. If he should come within range of the lance of Kanana, I suppose that Manuel would be well pleased to wait?" "Good boy! Brave boy!" replied the prince. "When thou hast made thy mind to do a thing, thou doest it admirably. Kill him, and thou shalt be loaded down with gold till the day when thou diest of old age." Kanana made no reply, but standing in bold relief upon the cliff, watched calmly and waited, till at last Kahled the Invincible left the line of soldiers, and alone rode nearer to the cliff. "Now is your chance! Now! now!" exclaimed the prince. Slowly Kanana raised the lance. Three times he waved it above his head. Three times he shouted: "I am Kanana, son of the Terror of the Desert!" in the manner of the Bedouin who challenges an enemy to fight, or meets a foe upon the plain. For a moment, then, he hesitated. The next sentence was hard to speak. He knew too well what the result would be. It needed now no straining of the eyes to see his destiny. All the vast army down below was looking up at him. Thousands would hear his words. Tens of thousands would see what followed them. "Go on! go on!" the prince ejaculated fiercely. Kanana drew a deep breath and shouted: "In one hour thirty thousand Arabs will draw the sword in the army of Heraclius!" Then gathering all his strength, he hurled the lance directly at the great Mohammedan general, who had not moved since he began to speak. Throughout those two great armies one might have heard a sparrow chirp, as the gleaming, flashing blade fell like a meteor from the cliff. The aim was accurate. The Bedouin boy cringed, and one might have imagined that it was even more accurate than he meant. It pierced the gray charger. The war-horse of Kahled plunged forward and fell dead upon the plain. A fierce howl rose from the ranks of the Ishmaelites. Men and women shrieked and yelled. "Kanana the traitor! A curse upon the traitor Kanana!" rent the very air. Such was the confusion which followed that, had the Greeks been ready to advance, a thousand might have put a hundred thousand Bedouins to flight. But they were not ready. Kanana stood motionless upon the cliff. He heard the yells of "Traitor!" hut he knew that they would come, and did not heed them. Calmly he watched till Kahled gained his feet, dragged the lance from his dying horse, and with it in his hand, hurried toward the soldiers. Only once he turned, and for an instant looked up at the solitary figure upon the cliff. He lifted his empty hand, as though it were a blessing and not a malediction, he bestowed upon the Bedouin boy; then he disappeared. With a deep, shivering sigh, Kanana pressed one hand beneath his sheepskin coat. A sharp contortion passed over him, but he turned about and stood calmly, face to face with Manuel. "You did well," said the prince, "but you did not kill an Arab. It was for that I made my promise." "'And if you kill an Arab,'" gasped Kanana, "'that moment I will set your father free'! Those were the prince's words! That was his promise, bound by all the powers of earth and heaven! He will keep it! He will not dare defy those powers, for I have killed an Arab!" Clutching the sheepskin coat, Kanana tore it open, and, above a brilliant girdle, they saw a dagger buried in his bleeding breast. He tottered, reeled, stepped backward, and fell over the brink of the cliff. "You may as well go free," said Manuel, turning to the sheik. "A monstrous sacrifice has just been made to purchase your liberty." Turning abruptly he entered his tent to consider, with his officers, the next result. "I think they are flying," an officer reported, coming from the cliff. "The horsemen and camels are hurrying into the hills. Only foot soldiers seem remaining in the front." "Let every soldier face them who has strength to stand!" commanded the prince. "Put everything to the front, and if they fly give them every possible encouragement." The order was obeyed, and the fourth day of battle began; but it was spiritless and slow. The Bedouins, with their constantly thinning ranks, stood with grim determination where their feet rested, but they made no effort to advance. The wearied out and starving Grecian phalanx simply held its ground. The prince was not there to urge his soldiers on. The voice of Kahled did not sound among the Mussulmans. An hour went by. Suddenly there was an uproar in the rear of the army of Heraclius. There was a wild shout, a clash of arms, and the watch-word of Islam rang above the tumult, in every direction. Ten thousand horse and twenty thousand war-camels poured in upon that defenceless rear, and, even as Kanana had declared, in just one hour there were thirty thousand Arabs wielding their savage swords in the army of Heraclius. Another hour went by. The battle cry of Kahled ceased. The shout of victory rang from the throats of the Mussulmans. Manuel and all his officers were slain. The magnificent army of Heraclius was literally obliterated. Treasure without limit glutted the conquered camp. Arabia was saved. Quickly the soldiers erected a gorgeous throne and summoned Kahled to sit upon it, while they feasted about him and did him honor as their victorious and invincible leader. The veteran warrior responded to their call, but he came from his tent with his head bowed down, bearing in his arms a heavy burden. Slowly he mounted the platform, and upon the sumptuous throne he laid his burden down. It was the bruised and lifeless body of Kanana. With trembling hand the grim chief drew back the sheepskin coat, and all men then beheld, bound about the Bedouin boy, the sacred girdle! "I gave it to him," said Kahled solemnly; "and upon the fragments you have returned to me, he wrote the information by which we conquered Jababal and Manuel. You saw him throw this lance at me; you called him 'traitor!' but about the hand-rest there was wound this strip. See! In blood--in his blood--these words are written here: 'Do not retreat. The infidels are starving and dying. Strike them in the rear.' It was his only means of reaching me. It was not the act of a traitor. No! It was the Lance of Kanana that rescued _Arabia_." [Illustration: "I GAVE IT TO HIM," SAID KAHLED, SOLEMNLY.] THE END * * * * * American Heroes and Heroines By PAULINE CARRINGTON BOUVÉ Illustrated This book, which will tend directly toward the making of patriotism in young Americans, contains some twenty brief, clever and attractive sketches of famous men and women in American history, among them Father Marquette, Anne Hutchinson, Israel Putnam, Molly Pitcher, Paul Jones, Dolly Madison, Daniel Boone, etc. Mrs. Bouvé is well known as a writer both of fiction and history, and her work in this case is admirable. "The style of the book for simplicity and clearness of expression could hardly be excelled."--_Boston Budget._ * * * * * The Scarlet Patch The Story of a Patriot Boy in the Mohawk Valley By MARY E. Q. BRUSH Illustrated by GEORGE W. PICKNELL "The Scarlet Patch" was the badge of a Tory organization, and a loyal patriot boy, Donald Bastien, is dismayed at learning that his uncle, with whom he is a "bound boy," is secretly connected with this treacherous band. Thrilling scenes follow in which a faithful Indian figures prominently, and there is a vivid presentation of the school and home life as well as the public affairs of those times. "A book that will be most valuable to the library of the young boy."--_Providence News._ * * * * * Stories of Brave Old Times Some Pen Pictures of Scenes Which Took Place Previous to, or Connected With, the American Revolution By HELEN M. CLEVELAND Profusely illustrated It is a book for every library, a book for adults, and a book for the young. Perhaps no other book yet written sets the great cost of freedom so clearly before the young, consequently is such a spur to patriotism. "It can unqualifiedly be commended as a book for youthful readers; its great wealth of illustrations adding to its value."--_Chicago News._ 
4657	----	None 
19914	----	Distributed Proofreaders Europe at http://dp.rastko.net ARABIC AUTHORS. A MANUAL OF ARABIAN HISTORY AND LITERATURE. BY F.F. ARBUTHNOT, M.R.A.S., AUTHOR OF "EARLY IDEAS" AND "PERSIAN PORTRAITS." LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN. 1890. PREFACE. The following pages contain nothing new and nothing original, but they do contain a good deal of information gathered from various sources, and brought together under one cover. The book itself may be useful, not, perhaps, to the Professor or to the Orientalist, but to the general reader, and to the student commencing the study of Arabic. To the latter it will give some idea of the vast field of Arabian literature that lies before him, and prepare him, perhaps, for working out a really interesting work upon the subject. Such still remains to be written in the English language, and it is to be hoped that it will be done some day thoroughly and well. It is gratifying to think that the study of Oriental languages and literature is progressing in Europe generally, if not in England particularly. The last Oriental Congress, held at Stockholm and Christiania the beginning of September, 1889, brought together a goodly number of Oriental scholars. There were twenty-eight nationalities represented altogether, and the many papers prepared and read, or taken as read preparatory to their being printed, showed that matters connected with Oriental studies in all their branches excite considerable interest. England, too, has been lately making some efforts which will be, it is sincerely hoped, crowned with success. The lectures on modern Oriental languages lately established by the Imperial Institute of the United Kingdom, the Colonies, and India, in union with University College and King's College, London, is full of promise of bringing forth good fruit hereafter. So much is to be learnt from Oriental literature in various ways that it is to be hoped the day may yet come when the study of one or more Oriental languages will be taken up as a pastime to fill the leisure hours of a future generation thirsting after knowledge. In addition to the above, a movement is also being made to attempt to revive the old Oriental Translation Fund. It was originally started in A.D. 1828, and did good work for fifty years, publishing translations (see Appendix) from fifteen different Oriental languages, and then collapsing from apathy, neglect, and want of funds. Unless well supported, both by donations and annual subscriptions, it is useless to attempt a fresh start. To succeed thoroughly it must be regarded as a national institution, and sufficiently well-off to be able to afford to bring out Texts and Indexes of [Transcriber's note: Missing page in the source document.] -cially An-Nadim's 'Fihrist,' a most valuable book of reference, ought to be done into English without further delay. Private individuals can hardly undertake the business, but a well-organized and permanent Oriental Translation Fund, assisted by the English and Indian Governments, could and would render extraordinary services in the publication of texts, translations, and indexes of Oriental literature generally. For assistance in the preparation of this present volume my thanks are due to the many authors whose works have been freely used and quoted, and also to Mr. E. Rehatsek, of Bombay, whose knowledge of the Arabic language and of Arabic literature is well known to all Oriental scholars. F.F. ARBUTHNOT. 18, Park Lane, W. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. HISTORICAL. Arabia: its boundaries, divisions of districts, revenues, area, population, and history.--Tribe of Koraish.--The Kaabah at Mecca.--Muhammad.--His immediate successors: Abu Bakr, Omar, Othman, Ali.--The Omaiyides.--Fate of Hasan and Hussain, sons of Ali--Sunnis and Shiahs.--Overthrow of the Omaiyides by the Abbasides.--The Omaiyides in Spain; their conquests and government.--The Moors, and their final expulsion.--To what extent Europe is indebted to the Spanish Arabs.--Their literature and architecture.--The Abbaside Khalifs at Baghdad.--Persia, Egypt, Syria, Palestine, and Arabia become detached from their government in the course of time.--Fall of Baghdad itself in A.D. 1258.--Dealings of the Turks with Arabia.--The Wahhabi reform movement.--Expeditions of the Turks and Egyptians to suppress it.--Various defeats and successes.--Present form of government in Arabia.--Its future prospects.--List of the Omaiyide Khalifs, preceded by Muhammad and his four immediate successors.--List of the Abbaside Khalifs.--List of the Arab rulers in Spain. CHAPTER II. LITERARY. About the Arabic and Chinese languages.--The permanent character of the former attributed to the Koran.--Division of Arab literature into three periods: I. The time before Muhammad.--The sage Lokman; the description of three Lokmans; Arab poetry before the Koran; the seven suspended poems, known as the Mua'llakat, at Mecca; notions of the Arabs about poetry; their Kasidas; description of the Kasidas of Amriolkais, Antara, Labid, Tarafa, Amru, Harath, and Zoheir; the poets Nabiga, Al-Kama, and Al-Aasha. II. The period from the time of Muhammad to the fall of the Abbasides.--Muhammad considered as a poet; the poets who were hostile to him; his panegyrist Kab bin Zoheir; account of him and his 'Poem of the Mantle,' and the results; Al-Busiri's 'Poem of the Mantle;' names of poets favourable and hostile to Muhammad; the seven jurisconsults; the four imams; the six fathers of tradition; the early traditionists; the companions; the alchemists; the astronomers; the grammarians; the geographers and travellers; the historians; the tabulators and biographers; the writers about natural history; the philologists; the philosophers; the physicians; the poets; the collectors and editors of poems; the essayist Al-Hariri; many translators; special notice of Ibn Al-Mukaffa; support given to learning and literature by certain of the Omaiyide, Abbaside, and Spanish Arab Khalifs; description of Baghdad; reign of Harun-ar-Rashid; the Barmekides; the Khalif Razi-billah; Hakim II. at Cordova; his education; his accession to the throne; his collection of books; his library, and its catalogue; places of learning in the East at this time. III. Third period, from the fall of Baghdad to the present time.--Certain historians; Ibn Malik, the grammarian; Ibn Batuta, the traveller; Abul Feda, Ibn Khaldun, Ibn Kesir, Ibn Hajar, Ibn Arabshah--all historians; Firuzabadi, Taki-uddin of Fez, Al-Makrisi, Sayuti, Ibn Kamal Pasha, Abu Sa'ud the mufti, Ibrahim of Aleppo, Birgeli, Abul Khair; celebrated caligraphers, past and present, Haji Khalfa, Muhammad al Amin of Damascus, Makkari. Decline of Arabic literature: its present form. About the printing-presses of Arabic works at various places. CHAPTER III. ABOUT MUHAMMAD. A complete summary of the details of his life, from his birth to his death.--Remarks upon him as a reformer, preacher, and apostle.--The Hanyfs.--Muhammad's early idea of establishing one religion for the Jews, Christians, and Arabs.--His long struggle with the Koraish.--His failure at Mecca.--His success at Madinah.--Adapts his views to the manners and customs of the Arabs only.--The reason of his many marriages.--His love of women.--About the Koran.--Not collected and arranged until after his death.--Comparison of the Koran with the Old and New Testaments.--Superiority of our Bible.--Description of it by 'Il Secolo.'--Rev. Mr. Badger's description of the Koran.--Written in the purest Arabic, and defies competition.--Muhammad and Moses, Jesus and Buddha.--Remarks about Buddhism and Christianity.--Moses and Muhammad the founders of two nationalities.--Abraham the father of the Jewish, Christian, and Muhammadan religions.--Rénan's description of the gods of the Jews.--Joseph.--The Twelve Tribes.--Appearance of Moses as a liberator and organizer.--The reasons of his wanderings in the desert.--What the Jews owed to Moses, and the Arabs to Muhammad.--The latter as a military leader.--Resemblance of the warlike expeditions of the Jews and of the Arabs.--Similar proceedings in the Soudan at the present time.--Account of the dogmas and precepts of Islam as embodied in the Koran.--Other points connected with the institutions of Islam.--Faith and prayer always insisted upon.--Democratic character of the Muhammadan religion, excellent in theory, but doubtful in practice.--Muhammad's last address at Mina, telling the Muslims that they were one brotherhood.--His final remarks. CHAPTER IV. TALES AND STORIES. The Kalilah wa Dimnah.--'Early Ideas.'--'Persian Portraits,'--Origin of the 'Arabian Nights.'--The Hazar Afsaneh, or Thousand Stories. Date of the 'Nights.'--Its fables and apologues the oldest part of the work.--Then certain stories--The latest tales.--Galland's edition.--His biography.--His successors, sixteen in number, ending with Payne and Burton.--The complete translations of these two last-named, in thirteen and sixteen volumes respectively.--Brief analysis of Payne's first nine, and of Burton's first ten volumes.--Short summary of twelve stories; viz.: The tale of Aziz and Azizah; the tale of Kamar Al-Zaman and the Lady Budur; Ala Aldin Abu Al-Shamat; Ali the Persian and the Kurd sharper; the man of Al-Yaman and his six slave-girls; Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud; the rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty and her daughter Zeynab the Trickstress; the adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo; Hasan of Busra and the king's daughter of the Jinn; Ali Nur Al-din and Miriam the girdle-girl; Kamar Al-Zaman and the jeweller's wife; Ma'aruf the cobbler and his wife Fatimah.--Remarks on Payne's three extra volumes, entitled 'Tales from the Arabic,' and on Burton's two first supplemental volumes.--Allusion to Burton's third supplemental and to Payne's thirteenth volume.--Burton's fourth, fifth, and sixth supplemental volumes. --Summing-up of the number of stories contained in the above two editions; from what manuscripts they were translated, and some final remarks.--The Kathá Sarit Ságara, a sort of Hindoo 'Arabian Nights'. --Comparison of the two works.--Brief description of the Kathá and its contents.--Gunádhya and Somadeva.--Final remarks on the stories found in the Kathá.--Antar, a Bedouin romance.--Its partial translation.--Its supposed author.--Brief description of the work, with some remarks upon it.--Both the 'Arabian Nights' and Antar rather long.--The press in England to-day.--Numerous writers of novels and story-books.--These take the place of the 'Nights,' and satisfy the public, always in search of something new, even if not true; something original, even if not trustworthy.--Final remarks. CHAPTER V. ANECDOTES AND ANA. In Persian literature the Gulistan, Negaristan, and Beharistan contain many anecdotes.--In Arabic literature there are works of the same kind.--'The Naphut-ul-Yaman,' or Breath of Yaman.--Six stories translated from it.--The Merzuban namah, with newly translated extracts from it.--Remarks on this work.--The Al-Mustatraf, or the Gleaner or the Collector.--Two stories from it.--Two anecdotes taken from the Sehr-ul-oyoon, or Magic of the Eyes.--A philosophic discourse, translated from the Siraj-ul-Muluk, or Lamp of Kings.--The Ilam en Nas, or Warnings for Men.--Eighteen stories from Ibn Khallikan's Biographical Dictionary.--Seven anecdotes from various sources.--Verses from the Arabic about the places where certain Arabs wished to be buried.--Translation of the verses upon Alfred de Musset's tomb in Paris. Appendix. Index. CHAPTER I. HISTORICAL. The Arabia of to-day is bounded on the west by the Red Sea and Gulf of Suez; on the south by the Gulf of Aden and the Arabian Sea; on the east by the Gulf of Oman and the Persian Gulf; and on the north by a portion of Syria. This last boundary would, however, be more clearly defined by drawing a line from Suez straight across to the western head of the Persian Gulf. By the Greeks and Romans this country was divided into Arabia Petræa, Arabia Deserta, and Arabia Felix, or the Stony, the Desert, and the Happy. The Arabs themselves call it 'The Land of the Arabs,' while modern geographers give the Sinaitic peninsula as the first geographic district; the Hijaz, including the Haram, or sacred territory of Mecca, as the second; and Yaman, with the Tehamah, as the third. To these may be added the provinces of Hadramant and Mahrah, and of Oman and Hasa, to the south and east respectively, with Nejd, or Central Arabia, as the central plateau, and some large deserts scattered in different parts of the peninsula. Of the revenues of Arabia it is almost impossible to form anything like a correct estimate. The area of the country covers about 1,200,000 square miles, and the population is said to be from five to six millions, of whom one-fifth consist of Ahl Bedoo, or dwellers in the open land, otherwise known as Bedouins; and four-fifths of settled Arabs, called Ahl Hadr, or dwellers in fixed localities. The history of Arabia may be divided into three periods: 1st. The prehistoric period, full of tales of heroes, and giants, and wonderful cities. 2nd. The period which preceded the era of Muhammad. 3rd. That which followed it. The first period is mythical to a certain extent; at all events, nothing can be stated positively about it. The second period is distinguished as one of local monarchies and federal governments in a rough and rude form; while the third commences with theocratic centralization, dissolving finally into general anarchy. Of the many tribes in Arabia, the most celebrated is the family of the Koraish, still regarded as the noblest of the Arabs, partly because, at the beginning of the fifth century A.D., their chiefs had rendered themselves the masters and acknowledged guardians of the sacred Kaabah at Mecca, and partly because of their connection with the Prophet. The Kaabah, La Maison Carrée, or square temple, a shrine of unknown antiquity, was situated within the precincts of the town of Mecca, and to it, long before Muhammad's time, the Arabs had brought yearly offerings, and made devout pilgrimages. The tribe of Koraish, having once obtained the keys of the consecrated building, had held them against all comers till Muhammad's conquest of Mecca in A.D. 630, when he handed over the key to Othman bin Talha, the former custodian, to be kept by him and his posterity as an hereditary and perpetual office, and he further confirmed his uncle Abbas in the office of giving drink to the pilgrims. Before entering into a somewhat lengthy description of Arabian literature, it is necessary to give a short and rapid sketch of Arabian history, beginning from the time of Muhammad, as his Koran was the foundation of the literary edifice. All Arab authors have looked upon that work as the height of eloquent diction, and have regarded it as the model standard to be followed in all their productions. Leaving, then, the two first periods of Arabian history, viz., the prehistoric, and the pre-Muhammadan, without any particular notice, the third period will be sketched as briefly as possible, and will be found excessively interesting, containing as it does the rise, grandeur, and decline of the Arabs as a nation. Muhammad, on his death in June, A.D. 632, left the entire Arab peninsula, with two or three exceptions, under one sceptre and one creed. He was succeeded by Abu Bakr (the father of Ayesha, the favourite wife of the prophet), known as the Companion of the Cave, with the title of Khalifah, or successor. His reign only lasted two years, but during that period the various insurrections that broke out in Arabia in consequence of the death of the Prophet were promptly put down, after severe fighting, in various parts of the peninsula, and the whole country was subjugated. Foreign expeditions beyond the borders were also planned and started. Abu Bakr, dying in August, A.D. 634, was succeeded by Umar, or Omar, the conqueror of Syria, Persia, and Egypt by means of his generals Khalid bin Walid (the best, perhaps, that Islam produced), Abu Obaida, Mothanna, Sád bin Malik, Amr bin al-Aasi, and others. Omar himself was an early convert of A.D. 615, and a sudden conversion like our Paul; but one made his converts by fanaticism and the sword, the other by preaching and the pen. After a glorious and victorious reign of ten years Omar was assassinated by a Persian slave in November, A.D. 644, and was followed as Khalif by Othman, son of Affan, of the noble family of Abd-esh-Shems, who also assumed the title 'Amir al-Momenin, or Commander of the Faithful, which had been first adopted by his predecessor Omar. Othman ruled for twelve years, when he was murdered in A.D. 656, some say at the instigation of Ali, nephew of Muhammad, and husband of his only daughter Fatima. Anyhow, Ali succeeded Othman as Khalif, but was defeated by Moawia, Governor of Syria, and assassinated in A.D. 660. Moawia bin Abu Sofyan then established the Benou Umayya dynasty, called by Europeans the Omaiyides, or Ommiades, from the name of Umayya, the father of the race. This dynasty reigned for nearly ninety years, and numbered fourteen successive princes, with their capital at Damascus. During the reign of Yazid I., the second prince (A.D. 679-683), Hussain, the younger son of Ali the Khalif, came to an untimely end. His elder brother, Hasan, a man of quiet disposition, had been previously murdered by one of his wives, at the instigation, it is said, of Yazid before he came to the throne. This happened in A.D. 669. Later on Hussain, with his followers, rose in rebellion, and was killed on the plain of Kerbela, A.D. 680. The descendants, however, of this faction continued the disturbances which eventually brought about the great Muhammadan schism, and the splitting up of the religion into two sects, known to this day as the Sunnis and Shias. The adherents of the legitimate Khalifate, and of the orthodox doctrine, assumed the name of Sunnites, or Traditionists. These acknowledge the first four Khalifs (the rightly minded, or rightly directed, as they are called) to have been legitimate successors of Muhammad, while the sectaries of Ali are known as the Shiites, or Separatists. These last regard Ali as the first rightful Imam, for they prefer this title (found in Sura ii., verse 118, of the Koran) to that of Khalif. The Turks and Arabs are Sunnis: the Persians, and most of the Muhammadans of India, Shias. This division into two sects, who hate each other cordially, has done more to weaken the power of the Muhammadan religion as a power than anything else. The Shias to this day execrate the memory of Yazid as the murderer of their hero Hussain, whom they have ever regarded as a martyr, and given full vent to their feelings on the subject in their 'Passion Play,' translated by Sir Lewis Pelly, and described by Mr. Benjamin in his 'Persia and the Persians.' Other insurrections against the reigning Omaiyide Khalifs were also put down, portions of Asia, Africa and Spain conquered, and even France invaded, so that at the close of the Benou Umayya dynastry, about A.D. 750, their empire consisted of many and large territories in Europe, Africa and Asia. Their colour was white, as opposed to the black of the Abbasides, and the green of the Fatimites, as descendants of Muhammad. But the Benou Umayya dynasty succumbed, A.D. 749, under the blows of Ibrahim (great-grandson of Abbas, the uncle of the Prophet), and of his younger brother, Abul Abbas, better known in history as As-Saffah, or the Blood-shedder. A decisive battle was fought on the banks of the river Zab, near Arbela, and Marwan II. (A.D. 744-750), the last of the Omaiyide Khalifs, was defeated, and fled first to Damascus, and then to Egypt, where he was eventually killed by his pursuers, A.D. 750. The history of the reign of the Abbasides now begins, and under them the power and glory of Islam reached their highest point. But it is first necessary to allude to the conquest of Spain by the Omaiyides, a branch of which family still retained for a long time in the West the power which they had totally lost in the East. The most important achievement of the reign of Walid I. (A.D. 705-715), the sixth prince of the Omaiyide dynasty, was the conquest of Spain by his generals Tarik and Musa. The Arabs (known in Europe under the name of Saracens) first established themselves in Cordova about A.D. 711, and the two generals above named continued their victorious progress throughout the country in 712 and 713, until nearly nine-tenths of the peninsula was held by the Muhammadans. Some years later France even was invaded by the Arabs, and the banners of the Muslims were erected on the coasts of the Gulf of Lyons, on the walls of Narbonne, of Nimes, of Carcassonne, and of Béziers. The Arabs afterwards advanced as far as the plains of Tours, where their victorious progress was checked by Charles Martel, who gained a great victory over them near that town in October, A.D. 732, and completely defeated them, so that they were obliged to retire again to Spain. There successive viceroys and emirs ruled as the representatives of the Khalifs at Damascus until the fall of the Omaiyide dynasty in the East, A.D. 750. But even after that Spain remained for many years under Arab domination. Anarchy almost prevailed from A.D. 750 to 755, but in that year the Arabs of Spain, weary of disorder, elected as their ruler Abd-ar-Rahman, grandson of the Khalif Hashim, tenth prince of the Omaiyide dynasty. At the time of his election, Abd-ar-Rahman was a wanderer in the desert, pursued by his enemies, when a deputation from Andalusia sought him out and offered him the Khalifate of Spain. It was gladly accepted. He landed there in September, A.D. 755, was universally welcomed, and founded at Cordova the Western Omaiyide Khalifate, which lasted up to A.D. 1031, under sixteen rulers, with certain interruptions during the reign of the last seven of them. On the extinction of the Khalifate, Spain was broken up into various petty kingdoms under kings and kinglets belonging to different Arab tribes and families. This continued from A.D. 1032 to 1092, when the Almoravides established themselves from A.D. 1092 to 1147, and were followed by the Almohades, who reigned up to A.D. 1232. After this Cordova, Seville, and other places were taken by Ferdinand III. of Leon and Castile, between A.D. 1236 and 1248. On the fall of Cordova the Muhammadan power declined with great rapidity; and, though the celebrated kingdom of Granada was established by the Moors in A.D. 1232, it was their last refuge from the rising power of the Christians. Some twenty-one princes reigned there till A.D. 1492, when Granada itself was taken, and this last Muhammadan dynasty was driven out of Spain by Ferdinand of Arragon and Isabella of Castile. Thus ended the empire of the Arabs and the Moors in Spain, which had lasted nearly eight hundred years. The Spanish Arabs were extremely fond of learning. Indeed, it is due to them to a very great extent that literature and science were kept afloat in Europe during the ages that followed the invasion of the Barbarians, as the Huns, Vandals, Goths, and Visigoths were generally called. That interval known as the 'Dark Ages' was kept alight by the Arabs alone. Abd-ar-Rahman II. established a library at Cordova during his reign, A.D. 822-852. Hakim II., the successor of Abd-ar-Rahman III., loved the sciences, founded the University of Cordova, and collected a library of great magnitude (A.D. 961-976). The revival of learning in Europe is chiefly attributed to the writings of Arabian doctors and philosophers, and to the schools which they founded in several parts of Spain and Italy. These seats of learning were frequented even in the twelfth century of our era by students from various parts of Europe, who disseminated the knowledge thus acquired when they returned to their own countries. At that time many Arabic works were translated into Latin, which thus facilitated the progress of science. In the three last chapters of the second book of the 'History of the Muhammadan Dynasties in Spain,' translated by Pascual de Gayangos, the state of science and literature is detailed in the words of Makkari, the original Arab author of that work, and in it many once celebrated authors are mentioned, of whom not only their productions, but even their very names, have since perished. The distinguished writers whose works have come down to us will be more particularly alluded to in the next chapter. Europe is also indebted to the Arabs for the elements of many useful sciences, particularly that of chemistry. Paper was first made in Europe by them, and their carpets and manufactures in steel and leather were long unrivalled, while in the Arabian schools of Cordova mathematics, astronomy, philosophy, botany and medicine were taught with great success. As Europe gradually emerged from darkness and ignorance, the Moors in Spain became so weak and powerless that in A.D. 1526 Charles I of Spain, and V. of Germany, ordered them to adopt the Spanish language. In A.D. 1566 an edict of Philip II. forbade them to speak or write in Arabic, and directed them to renounce all their traditional habits, customs and ceremonies. Philip III. completed the work which his father had left unfinished. In A.D. 1609 all the Moriscoes were ordered to depart from the peninsula within three days, with a penalty of death if they failed to obey the order, and from that time their existence as a nation finally ceased in Europe, and Spain thus lost a million of industrious inhabitants skilled in the useful arts. After their expulsion Arabic literature more or less disappeared. Much of it was destroyed, and a Spanish cardinal, it is said, once boasted that he had destroyed with his own hands one hundred thousand Arabic manuscripts! It is highly probable that the remnants of Andalusian libraries were brought to light by Casiri (b. 1710, d. 1791) during the past, and by Gayangos during the present century, and it is doubtful if much more will ever now be discovered. There are two buildings still extant in Spain which have survived the Arabs, viz., their mosque at Cordova (now the Cathedral), and their palace of the Alhambra at Granada, both well worth a visit, and well described in Murray's and O'Shea's guides to Spain. During the reign of Abd-ar-Rahman III. (A.D. 912-961) the city, palace, and gardens of Medinatu-z-Ahra, three or four miles from Cordova, were constructed in honour of his favourite wife or mistress, Az-zahra, and cost an immense sum of money. At present no vestiges of them exist, and it is supposed that not only these, but many other Arab mosques and buildings, were intentionally destroyed by their conquerors, as the hatred between the Christian and the Muslim in those days was of the bitterest description. And now to return to the Abbasides, established in the East on the downfall of the Omaiyide dynasty there in A.D. 750, and thus continue the main line of Arab history. There were, in all, thirty-seven Abbaside Khalifs, of whom Abu Jaafar, surnamed Al-Mansur, the Victorious (A.D. 754-775), Harun-ar-Rashid (A.D. 786-809), and Al-Mamun (A.D. 812-833) were the most celebrated. Of these, the first, who was the second Khalif, founded Baghdad, the capital of the Abbasides, about A.D. 762; the second, who was the fifth Khalif, has been rendered immortal by the frequent illusions to him, and to members of the Barmeki family, in the 'Arabian Nights'; while the third, who was the seventh Khalif, was a great patron of literature and science. As years rolled on the dynasty and its princes became weaker and weaker, and finally came to an end under the thirty-seventh and last Khalif Al-Mustaa 'sim Billah, with the capture of Baghdad in A.D. 1258 by Halaku Khan, the sovereign of the Mughals, and the grandson of Jenghiz Khan. Long before this, however, the empire which the first of the Abbasides had conquered was already broken up. About A.D. 879, in Persia, Amr-bin-Lais founded the Suffary or Braiser dynasty, still subject to the Commander of the Faithful. But even this allegiance only lasted till A.D. 901, when the Samani and Dailami dynasties were established in the North and South of Persia respectively, and quite independent of the Khalifs of Baghdad. In A.D. 909, the Fatimites, so designated from one Obaid Allah, a real or pretended descendant of Ali and Fatima, the daughter of Muhammad, established themselves in the North of Africa, and consolidated their power there. In A.D. 972 Al-Moizz, or Abu Tamim, a great-grandson of Obaid Allah, the founder of the Fatimite dynasty at Tunis, sent his general Jawhar with an army to invade Egypt. The country was conquered, the city of Cairo built, the seat of government was transferred there, and the title of Khalif assumed by the Fatimites. There they remained as reigning Khalifs until A.D. 1171, when Salah-ad-Din (Saladin) usurped the sovereignty, and founded the Ayoobite dynasty of Kurds, till its last ruler, Melik-al-Ashraf, was deposed in A.D. 1250 by the Mamlook El Moizz, who in that year founded the Baharite Mamlook dynasty, which lasted with variations in the families till A.D. 1377. But in A.D. 1260 Ez-Zahir Beybars, a Mamlook slave, secured the throne, and brought the then representative of the Abbaside Khalifs (the family having been dethroned by the Mughals at Baghdad in A.D. 1258) to Egypt, and recognised him as possessing spiritual authority alone, but nothing else. From that time until the taking of Egypt by Sultan Selim I. in A.D. 1517, the Abbaside Khalifs retained the spiritual power first under the Baharite, and then under the Circassian or Borgite Mamlooks. When Egypt became a Turkish pashalic, Selim, the conqueror, compelled the representative of the Abbaside Khalifs, by name Al-Motawukkel, to leave Cairo and reside in Constantinople; and on his death the Ottoman Sultans assumed the title of Khalif, which they hold to this day, and are recognised by the Sunnis as the head of the Muhammadan religion, and the successors of Muhammad. As regards Syria and Palestine (two countries more or less closely connected, owing to their proximity and absence of distinct and defined boundaries), on the termination of the rule of the Omaiyides at Damascus in A.D. 750, they remained nominally under the Abbasides till A.D. 969, when Syria was conquered by the Fatimites, who were succeeded by the Seljuks, who captured Damascus about A.D. 1075, and Antioch A.D. 1085. The struggles with the Crusaders commenced in A.D. 1096, and continued until Saladin's famous victory at Hattin in 1187, when he became master of nearly the whole of Syria and Palestine. Fighting still went on in these countries between the Franks and others until A.D. 1518, when Selim I. conquered the country and incorporated it with the Turkish Empire. No Arab prince has since reigned in Egypt or Syria, though these countries have always exercised certain influences over Arabia. In Arabia itself, towards the end of the tenth century and the beginning of the eleventh, A.D., the Karmathians had risen in revolt, and detached that country from the Abbaside dynasty to such an extent that she returned almost to her primitive independence. Indeed, it may be said that, in the whole of Arabia, the Hijaz, with the Haram, or sacred territory of Mecca, under the Shariff, or nobles, the lineal descendants of the tribe of Koraish, alone retained some kind of constituted authority, and paid allegiance sometimes to the government of Baghdad, and sometimes to that of Egypt. As already stated above, in A.D. 1517 the Turkish Sultan Selim I. conquered Egypt, and obtained from the last real, or supposed surviving, Abbaside kinsman of the Prophet a formal investiture of the Muhammadan Khalifate. This was more religious than political in its bearing, but still many of the tribes in Arabia offered their allegiance to the Ottoman Government. From that time the Turks began their dealings with Arabia, which remained in a sort of independence under their own tribal Shaikhs, more or less according to the circumstances of different districts, until the rise of the Wahhabi movement, about the middle of the eighteenth century of our era. The Wahhabi reform movement requires special mention. It began in Arabia about A.D. 1740. The reformer and originator of the movement was Muhammad bin Abdul Wahhab, born at the town of Aïnah, in the centre of the Nejd district, A.D. 1691. He died in A.D. 1787, aged ninety-six. After some years spent in travel and in study, he began his preaching about A.D. 1731. Driven from Aïnah, his native place, as Muhammad was driven from Mecca, Abdul Wahhab established himself at ad-Diriyyah, where Muhammad bin Saood, the Shaikh of a sub-tribe of the Anizeh, gave him shelter, and eventually married his daughter. By preaching and fighting, his followers increased in number, and his reforms spread throughout the Nejd district, and many converts were made by him and his successors. In A.D. 1797 a Turkish army from Baghdad attacked the Wahhabis, but were beaten, and two years later Saood II. took and plundered Kerbela, Taif, Mecca, and other places, and seems to have retained his power and his government for several years. In A.D. 1811 the Turks, who had quite lost their authority in Arabia, requested Muhammad Ali of Egypt to put down the movement, and reconquer the country. The first expedition, commanded by his son Tussun, in its attempt to take Madinah, was nearly annihilated, but succeeded the following year. Later on the campaign was conducted by Muhammad Ali in person, and afterwards by his adopted son Ibrahim Pasha, with considerable success. The final stronghold, ad-Diriyyah, was captured in A.D. 1818, the Wahhabi chief captured, and sent first to Egypt and then to Constantinople, where he was beheaded in December of that year. The Egyptian occupation of Arabia was followed by a renewal of the Wahhabi movement, which eventually succeeded, in A.D. 1842, in driving out the Egyptians, occupied as they were at the time with fighting the Turks in Syria and Anatolia. Wahhabism was then re-established in some parts, and independence in other parts, of the country; but on the whole Wahhabism has never been very popular either in Arabia or India, in which latter country it also has some followers. It may be regarded as the latest sect of Islam, but does not make much progress. Arabia may now be said to be under three different kinds of government--_i.e._, partly under the Wahhabis, partly under the Turks, and partly under independent rulers, while Aden has been held by the English ever since its first capture in A.D. 1839. In other words, the present position of Arabia may be more definitely described as follows: Hasa, Hareek, the whole of Nejd, Kaseem, the provinces adjoining Yaman on the north, and Aseer, forming a broad belt, and stretching across the centre of the peninsula from the Red Sea to the Persian Gulf, remain under Wahhabi influences. The Hijaz and some sea-ports, such as Jedda and others, are at present absolutely under the Turkish Government; while Bahrein, Oman and its capital Muscat, and Yaman are more or less independent. Between Nejd and Syria a new and promising kingdom has sprung up under Telal. The time perhaps may come, and perhaps not far distant, when the Turks will disappear altogether from Arabia, and Wahhabism and independent tribes will alone remain. Another Muhammad or another Abdul Wahhab may some day again appear, and bring together the tribes under one rule for a time. It is doubtful, though, if ever the Arabs will again have the power, talent, or enthusiasm to revive the glories of the Arabian Empire, which now lives in history only, and is well worth a study. For ready reference the following is a chronology of the dynasty of the Ornaiyides, preceded by Muhammad and the first Khalifahs: A.D. Muhammad the Apostle 622--632 Abu Bakr 632--634 Omar I. 634--643 Othman 643--655 Ali 655--660 1. Moawia I. 660--679 2. Yazid I. 679--683 3. Moawia II. 683--683 4. Marwan I. 683--684 5. Abdul-Malik 684--705 6. Walid I. 705--715 7. Sulaiman 715--717 8. Omar II. 717--720 9. Yazid II. 720--724 10. Hashim 724--743 11. Walid II. 743--744 12. Yazid III. 744--744 13. Ibrahim 744--744 14. Marwan II. 744--750 The dynasty of the Omaiyides was followed by that of the Abbasides, who reigned as follows: A.D. 1. Abul-Abbas As-Saffah 750--754 2. Al-Mansur 754--775 3. Al-Mahdi 775--785 4. Al-Hadi 785--786 5. Harun-ar-Rashid 786--809 6. Al-Amin 809--812 7. Al-Mamun 812--833 8. Al-Mo'tasim Billah 833--842 9. Al-Wathik 842--847 10. Al-Mutwakkil 847--861 11. Al-Mustansir Billah 861--862 12. Al-Mustain Billah 862--866 13. Al-Mo'tiz Billah 866--869 14. Al-Muhtadi Billah 869--870 15. Al-Mo'tamid 870--892 16. Al-Motazid Billah 892--902 17. Al-Muktafi Billah 902--908 18. Al-Muktadir Billah 908--932 19. Al-Kahir Billah 932--934 20. Al-Radhi Billah 934--940 21. Al-Muttaki Billah 940--944 22. Al-Mustakfi Billah 944--945 23. Al-Mutia Billah 945--974 24. Al-Taya Billah 974--991 25. Al-Kadir Billah 991--1031 26. Al-Kaim Billah 1031--1075 27. Al-Muktadi Billah 1075--1094 28. Al-Mustazhir Billah 1094--1118 29. Al-Mustershid Billah 1118--1135 30. Al-Rashid Billah 1135--1136 31. Al-Muktafi 1136--1160 32. Al-Mustanjid Billah 1160--1170 33. Al-Mustazi 1170--1180 34. Al-Nasir Billah 1180--1225 35. Al-Tahir 1225--1226 36. Al-Mustansir Billah II. 1226--1240 37. Al-Mustaa'sim Billah 1240--1258 He was killed at the taking of Baghdad by Halaku Khan, and the last of the dynasty, which continued, however, as a spiritual power in Egypt till A.D. 1517. The empire over which the Abbasides began to rule in A.D. 750 had gradually dwindled away until little but Baghdad and its environs were left on the fall of the dynasty in A.D. 1258. Will history repeat itself in the same way as regards Constantinople, which in some years may be the only territory left in Europe to a people who once were conquerors, and whose arms even were carried to the walls of Vienna? As Persia, Egypt, Syria, parts of Africa and Arabia, by degrees, were severed from the Abbaside Empire, so the different provinces of Turkey in Europe appear to be slowly separating themselves from the Turkish Power, until finally there will be nothing left to them in Europe but that city whose splendid position will ever make it a bone of contention to both rising and declining States. The following is a list of the Omaiyides who ruled in Spain a.d. 756 to 1031: A.D. 1. Abd-ar-Rahman I. 756-788 2. Hisham I. 788-796 3. Al-Hakim I. 796-822 4. Abd-ar-Rahman II. 822-852 5. Muhammad I. 852-886 6. Al-Mundhir 886-888 7. Abd-Allah 888-912 8. Abd-ar-Rahman III. 912-961 He was one of the greatest of the rulers of Cordova. Under this prince, who at last assumed the title of Khalif and Commander of the Faithful, the unity of Muhammadan Spain was for the time restored. A.D. 9. Al-Hakim II. 961-976 10. Hisham II. 976-1009 He was a Khalif only in name, while Muhammad Bin Ali Amir, surnamed Al-Mansur, was the real ruler or regent till his death in A.D. 1002. He was succeeded by his son, Abd-al-Malik, who ruled successfully till his death in A.D. 1008, and was followed by his brother, Abd-ar-Rahman, who was beheaded in A.D. 1009, Hisham II. having been previously deposed. A.D. 11. Muhammad II. (Al-Mahdi-billah) 1009-1009 12. Sulaiman 1009-1010 Hisham II. for the second time 1010-1013 Sulaiman for the second time 1013-1016 (1) Ali bin Hammud, a Berber chief 1016-1018 13. Abd-ar-Rahman IV. 1018-1019 (2) Al Kasim bin Hammud 1019-1023 14. Abd-ar-Rahman V. 1023-1024 15. Muhammad III. 1024-1025 (3) Yabya bin Ali bin Hammud 1025-1027 16. Hisham III. 1027-1031 A complete list of all the Muhammadan rulers in Spain will be found in Makkari's history of these dynasties, translated by Gayangos. CHAPTER II. LITERARY. The oral communications of the ancient Egyptians, Medes and Persians, the two classic tongues of Europe, the Sanscrit of the Hindus and the Hebrew of the Jews, have long since ceased to be living languages. For the last twelve centuries no Western language has preserved its grammar, its style, or its literature intact and intelligible to the people of the present day. But two Eastern tongues have come down from ages past to our own times, and continue to exist unchanged in books, and, to a certain extent, also unchanged in language, and these are Chinese and Arabic. In China, though the dialects differ in the various provinces of the empire, still the written language has remained the same for centuries. In Arabia the Arabic language has retained its originality without very much dialectical alteration. The unchangeable character of the Arabic language is chiefly to be attributed to the Koran, which has, from its promulgation to the present time, been regarded by all Muhammadans as the standard of religion and of literary composition. Strictly speaking, not only the history, but also the literature of the Arabs begins with Muhammad. Excepting the Mua'llakat, and other pre-Islamitic poems collected in the Hamasas of Abu Tammam and Al-Bohtori, in Ibn Kutaiba and in the Mofaddhaliat, no literary monuments that preceded his time are in existence. The Koran became, not only the code of religious and of civil law, but also the model of the Arabic language, and the standard of diction and eloquence. Muhammad himself scorned metrical rules; he claimed as an apostle and lawgiver a title higher than that of soothsayer and poet. Still, his poetic talent is manifest in numerous passages of the Koran, well known to those able to read it in the original, and in this respect the last twenty-five chapters of that book are, perhaps, the most remarkable. Although the power of the Arabs has long ago succumbed, their literature has survived, and their language is still more or less spoken in all Muhammadan countries. Europe at one time was lightened by the torch of Arabian learning, and the Middle Ages were stamped with the genius and character of Arab civilization. The great masters of philosophy, medicine, astronomy, and mathematics, viz., Al-Kindi, Al-Farabi, Ibn-Sina, Ibn-Rashid, Ibn Bajah, Razi, Al Battani, Abul Ma'shar, Al-Farghani, Al-Jaber, have been studied both in the Spanish universities and in those of the rest of Europe, where their names are still familiar under the corrupted forms of Alchendius, Alfarabius, Avicenna, Averroes, Avempace, Rhazes, Albategnius, Albumasar, Alfraganius, and Geber. Arabic literature commenced about half a century before Muhammad with a legion of poets. The seven poems suspended in the temple of Mecca, and of which more anon, were considered as the chief productions of that time. The Mussulman era begins with the Hijrah, or emigration of Muhammad from Mecca to Madinah, which is supposed to have taken place on the 20th of June, A.D. 622; and the rise, growth, and decay of Arab power, learning, and literature may be divided into three periods as follows: 1. The time before Muhammad. 2. From Muhammad and his immediate successors, viz., Abu Bakr, Omar, Othman, and Ali, through the Omaiyide and Abbaside dynasties, to the end of the Khalifate of Baghdad, A.D. 1258. 3. From the fall of Baghdad to the present time. First Period. Although the proper history of Arabian literature begins from the time of Muhammad, it is necessary to cast a glance upon the age that preceded him, in order to obtain a glimpse of pre-Islamitic wisdom. The sage Lokman, whose name the thirty-first chapter of the Koran bears, is considered, according to that book, to have been the first man of his nation who practised and taught wisdom in all his deeds and words. He was believed to have been a contemporary of David and Solomon; his sayings and his fables still exist, but there is not much really known about him, as the following extracts will show: 'Lokman, a philosopher mentioned in the Koran, is said to have been born about the time of David. One tradition represents him as a descendant of the Arab tribe of Ad, who, on account of his piety and wisdom, was saved when the rest of his family perished by Divine wrath. According to another story he was an Ethiopian slave, noted alike for bodily deformity and a gift for composing fables and apologues. This account of Lokman, resembling so closely the traditional history of Æsop, has led to an opinion that they were the same individual, but this is now generally supposed not to be the case. The various reports agree in ascribing to Lokman extraordinary longevity. His extant fables bear evident marks of modern alteration, both in their diction and their incidents. They were first published with a Latin translation of the Arabic by Erpenius (Leyden, 1615). Galland produced a French translation of the fables of Lokman and Bidpay at Paris in 1724, and there are other editions by De Sacey, 1816, Caussin de Perceval, 1818, Freytag, 1823, and Rodiger, 1830.' Burton, in a footnote to page 118, of Volume X. of his 'Arabian Nights,' however, says that 'There are three distinct Lokmans. The first, or eldest Lokman, entitled Al-Hakim (the Sage), and the hero of the Koranic chapter which bears his name, was son of Ba'ura, of the children of Azar, sister's son to Job, or son of Job's maternal aunt; he witnessed David's miracles of mail-making, and when the tribe of Ad was destroyed he became king of the country. The second Lokman, also called the Sage, was a slave and Abyssinian negro, sold by the Israelites during the reign of David or Solomon, and who left a volume of proverbs and exempla, not fables or apologues, some of which still dwell in the public memory. The youngest Lokman, of the Vultures, was a prince of the tribe of Ad, who lived 3,500 years, the age of seven vultures.' This accounts for the different ideas as regards the tradition of one Lokman in the preceding paragraph. Before the era of the Prophet poetry had attained some degree of excellence. At the annual festival of Okatz the poets met and made public recitations, and competed for prizes. Of prose literature there was none, and the irregular, half-rhythmical, half-rhyming sentences of the Koran were the first attempts in the direction of prose. Passing over the host of pre-Islamitic poets, the disputed time and order in which they appeared, as well as the ranks they respectively occupied, it will only be necessary here to describe the Arabic idyll or elegy (Kasida), and to notice the authors of the seven famous Mua'llakat, or suspended, or strung-together poems of the temple of Mecca, already alluded to above. As these poems were written in letters of gold, they were also called Muzahhibat, or "gilded." According to Arab notions, the subjects of a poet are four or five. He praises, loves, is angry, mourns, or describes either female beauty, animals, or objects of nature. Poems comprising one of these subjects only are short, but those treating of several are longer, and contain eulogies of chiefs, rulers, distinguished men and women, etc. The poet touches on the valour, liberality and eloquence of the hero, on the beauty and virtues of the woman, and describes the nearest surroundings, which are of the greatest interest, such as the horse, the camel, the antelope, the ostrich, the wild cow, the cloud, the lightning, wine, the vestiges of the tent of the beloved, and the hospitable camp-fire. The Kasidas of the Mua'llakat are a series of smaller poems, composed on various occasions, and then strung together in one piece. Among them the two Kasidas of Amra-al-Kais (Amriolkais), and of Antara, are the most brilliant and romantic, on account of the sentiments of love they breathe towards the three beauties--Oneiza, Fatima, and Abla. The Kasida of Labid is famous for his description of both the camel and the horse; that of Tarafa for the delineation of the camel; that of Amru for the picture of a battle; while Harath chanted the praises of arms, and of the King of Hirah, and Zoheir produced a poem full of wise maxims. The whole seven contain a great deal about the personal feelings, the personal courage, the heroic deeds, and the wonderful adventures of the authors themselves--to which may be added descriptions of various animals, of hunting scenes, and of battle, the conventional lament for the absence or departure of a mistress, the delight of meeting her, and other bright sketches of Arab life in camp and on the march, with its joys, its sorrows, and its constant changes. Sir William Jones first brought these poems to the notice of the West, and published a translation of them in A.D. 1782. 'They exhibit,' he says, 'an exact picture of the virtues and the vices, the wisdom and the folly, of the early Arabs. The poems show what may constantly be expected from men of open hearts and boiling passions, with no law to control, and little religion to restrain them.' The above translations, with notes and remarks, have been reprinted by Mr. W.A. Clouston, in his 'Arabian Poetry for English Readers,' at Glasgow in 1881, and is a work well worthy of a perusal by any persons who may be interested in the subject. The names of the three ancient Arab poets considered to have been possessed of equal talent with the authors of the Mua'llakat, are Nabiga, Al-Kama, and Al-Aasha, and some specimens of their composition, as also of those of other pre-Islamite poets, are to be found in the fifteenth volume, No. 39, pages 65-108, of the 'Bombay Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society,' translated by Mr. E. Rehatsek in 1881. Second Period. From Muhammad and his immediate successors (Abu Bakr, Omar, Othman and Ali), through the Omaiyide and Abbaside dynasties, to the end of the Khalifate of Baghdad, A.D. 1258. The legislator of Islam, whose era began on the 16th July, A.D. 622 (though his actual departure from Mecca has been calculated to have taken place on the 20th June, A.D. 622), is here to be considered not from an historical, but from a poetical point of view. Although Muhammad despised the metres in which the bards of his nation chanted their Kasidas, and himself gave utterance in the name of Heaven to the inspirations of his genius only in richly-modulated and rhymed prose, nevertheless, according to the Oriental idea, he was regarded as a poet. Those who declare that he was not a poet overlook the circumstance that he was vehemently assailed by contemporary poets, who attempted to degrade his heaven-inspired Surahs into mere poetical fables. He himself protested against this insinuation, and declared at the end of the 26th Surah, entitled 'The Poets,' that those are in error who believe poets, as follows: 'And those who err follow the poets; dost thou not see how they roam (as bereft of their senses) through every valley (of the imagination) and that they say things which they do not perform? ... Except those who believe, and do good works, and remember God frequently, and those who defend themselves after they have been unjustly treated by poets in their lampoons, and they who act unjustly shall know hereafter with what treatment they shall be treated.' These lines are important as far as the history of literature is concerned. They are written against inimical poets, but distinguish the friendly ones, who, taking the part of Muhammad, repaid the lampooning poets in their own coin. Some of the hostile poets, such as Hobeira and the woman Karitha, were killed at the taking of Mecca, whilst Zibary and the woman Hertlemah saved their lives only by making a profession of Islam. Muhammad had, however, also his panegyrists, the chief of whom was Ka'b bin Zoheir, the composer of the celebrated Kasida called 'The Poem of the Mantle,' as a reward for which the Prophet threw his own cloak over him, under the following circumstances, as related by Mr. J.W. Redhouse in the preface to his translation of the poem published in the 'Arabian Poetry for English Readers'[1] alluded to above. [Footnote 1: In this same work will also be found a translation by Mr. Redhouse of another poem, also called 'The Poem of the Mantle,' but written by Sharaf-uddin Muhammad Al-Busiri, who was born A.D. 1211, and died between A.D. 1291 and 1300.] Ka'b was a son of Zoheir, already mentioned as the author of one of the pre-Islamite poems known as the 'Mua'llakat.' He had a brother named Bujeir, and, like their father, both brothers were good poets. Bujeir was first converted, and embraced the faith of Islam. Ka'b was angry at this, and composed a lampoon on his brother, on the Prophet, and on their new religion. This he sent to his brother by the mouth of a messenger. Bujeir repeated it to Muhammad, who commented on it as favourable to the new faith and to himself, but at the same time passed a sentence of death on the satirist. Bujeir well knew that his brother's life was in danger, and warned him accordingly, advising him at the same time to renounce his errors, and come repentant to the Prophet, or to seek a safe asylum far away. Ka'b found out that his life would really soon be taken, and set out secretly for Madinah. There he found an old friend, claimed his protection, and went with him next morning to the simple meeting-house where Muhammad and his chief followers performed their daily devotions. When the service was ended, Ka'b approached Muhammad, and the two sat down together. Ka'b placed his own right hand in that of the Prophet, whom he addressed in these words: 'Apostle of God, were I to bring to you Ka'b, the son of Zoheir, penitent and professing the faith of Islam, wouldst thou receive and accept him? The Prophet answered, 'I would.' 'Then,' said the poet, 'I am he!' Hearing this, the bystanders demanded permission to put him to death. Muhammad ordered his zealous followers to desist, and the poet then, on the spur of the moment, recited a poem improvised at the time, probably with more or less premeditation. It is said that when Ka'b reached the fifty-first verse: 'Verily the Apostle of God is a light from which illumination is sought--a drawn Indian blade, one of the swords of God,' Muhammad took from his own shoulders the mantle he wore, and threw it over the shoulders of the poet as an honour and as a mark of protection. Hence the name given to the effusion, 'The Poem of the Mantle,' A.D. 630. Moawia, the first Khalif of the Omaiyides, endeavoured to purchase this sacred mantle from Ka'b for ten thousand pieces of silver, but the offer was refused. Later on it was, however, bought from Ka'b's heirs for twenty thousand pieces of silver, and it passed into the hands of the Khalifs, and was preserved by them as one of the regalia of the empire until Baghdad was sacked by the Mughals. The mantle, or what is supposed to be the self-same mantle, is now in the treasury[2] of the Sultan Khalif of the Ottomans at Constantinople, in an apartment named 'The Room of the Sacred Mantle,' in which this robe is religiously preserved, together with a few other relics of the great prophet. [Footnote 2: _Apropos_ of this treasury, it is much to be regretted that a complete catalogue of its contents has never been prepared along with a brief historical account of them. It is difficult to obtain the order, which comes direct from the Sultan, to visit the collection; and even then visitors are hurried through at such a pace that it is impossible to examine with minuteness the many curiosities collected there.] Ka'b has thus come to be considered as one of the friendly poets, and the names of two others are also mentioned, viz., Abd-Allah bin Rewaha and Hassan bin Thabit. On the other hand, the most celebrated antagonists who attacked Muhammad, not only with their verses, but also with their swords, were Abu Sofyan, Amr bin Al-'A'asi, and Abd-Allah bin Zobeir. These three became great political characters, but later on made profession of Islam, and were the staunchest supporters of it, rendering the greatest services to the Prophet during his life, and to the cause after his death. But Muhammad's greatest triumph over the poets was the conversion of Labid, who, after the perusal of the commencement of the second Surah of the Koran, tore down his own poem, which was hung up in the Kaabah, and ran to the Prophet to announce his conversion, and to make his profession of Islam. Even Ali, the cousin, son-in-law, and first convert of Muhammad, was a poet, but it is uncertain which of the Diwans attributed to him are genuine, and how many of his maxims of wisdom, over a hundred in number, are his own. During the period under review the number of Arabic authors was legion. Some idea of the number of writers, and of the subjects on which they wrote, can be gathered from the Fihrist of An-Nadim, from Ibn Khallikan's Biographical Dictionary, and from Haji Khalfa's Encyclopædia. With such a mass of information as is contained in the above-mentioned works, it is difficult to deal in a small work. To put them together in an intelligible form, the idea of classing the authors, according to the subjects on which they principally wrote, naturally presented itself. This plan, therefore, has been followed, and a few details of the most celebrated writers will be given, classified under the following heads: Jurisconsults. Imams and lawyers. Traditionists. Alchemists. Astronomers. Grammarians. Geographers and travellers. Historians. Lexicographers, biographers and encyclopædists. Writers on natural history. Philologists. Philosophers. Physicians. Poets. Collectors and editors of poems. Translators. The Omaiyide Khalifs. The Abbaside Khalifs. The Spanish Khalifs. During the latter part of the first century of the Hijrah (July, 622--July, 719), the first persons of note in the Muhammadan world after Muhammad and his immediate successors were probably the seven jurisconsults, viz., Obaid Allah, Orwa, Kasim, Said, Sulaiman, Abu Bakr and Kharija, who all lived at Madinah about the same time; and it was from them, according to Ibn Khallikan, that the science of law and legal decisions spread over the world. They were designated by the appellation of the Seven Jurisconsults, because the right of giving decisions on points of law had passed to them from the companions of Muhammad, and they became publicly known as Muftis. These seven alone were acknowledged as competent to give Fatmas, or legal decisions. They died respectively A.D. 720, 712, 719, 710, 725, 712 and 718. The jurisconsults were followed by the doctors of theology and law, or, as they were styled, Imams, or founders of the four orthodox sects. Now, among the Sunni Muslims an Imam may be described as a high-priest, or head, or chief in religious matters, whether he be the head of all Muhammadans--as the Khalifah--or the priest of a mosque, or the leader in the prayers of a congregation. This title, however, is given by the Shias only to the immediate descendants of Ali, the son-in-law of the Prophet, and they are twelve in number, Ali being the first. The last of them, Imam Mahdi, is supposed to be concealed (not dead), and the title which belongs to him cannot, they conceive, be given to another. But among the Sunnis it is a dogma that there must always be a visible Imam or father of the Church. The title is given by them to the four learned doctors who were the exponents of their faith, viz., Imams Hanifa, Malik, Shafai and Hanbal. Of these, Imam Hanifa, the founder of the first of the four chief sects of the Sunnis, died A.D. 767. He was followed by Imam Malik, Imam Shafai, and Imam Hanbal, the founders of the other three sects, who died A.D. 795, 820 and 855 respectively. From these four persons are derived the various codes of Muhammadan jurisprudence. They have always been considered as the fundamental pillars of the orthodox law, and have been esteemed by Mussulmans as highly as the fathers of the Church--Gregory, Augustine, Jerome and Chrysostom--have been appreciated by Christians. Of these four sects, the Hanbalite and Malikite may be considered as the most rigid, the Shafaite as the most conformable to the spirit of Islamism, and the Hanifite as the wildest and most philosophical of them all. In addition to the four Imams just mentioned, there was a fifth, of the name of Abu Sulaiman Dawud az Zahari, who died A.D. 883. He was the founder of the sect called Az-Zahariah (the External), and his lectures were attended by four hundred Fakihs (doctors of the civil and of the ecclesiastical law), who wore shawls thrown over their shoulders. But his opinions do not seem to have secured many followers, and in time both his ideas, and those of Sofyan at Thauri, another chief of the orthodox sect, were totally abandoned. The third century of the Hijrah (A.D. 816-913) is noted for the six fathers of tradition, viz., Al-Bukhari, Muslim, At Firmidi, Abu Dawud, An-Nasai and Ibn Majah, with whom others, such as Kasim bin Asbagh, Abu Zaid, Al-Marwazi, Abu Awana and Al-Hazini, vied in great works on tradition, but these last-named could never acquire the authority of the six previously mentioned, who died A.D. 870, 875, 892, 889, 916, 887 respectively. In the beginning of Islam the great traditionists were Ayesha, the favourite wife of the Prophet, the four rightly directed Khalifs, viz., Abu Bakr, Omar, Othman and Ali, and some of the companions[3] known as the Evangelists of Islam. But besides these well-qualified persons who had lived with or near Muhammad during his lifetime, many others who had perhaps only seen him or spoken to him claimed to be considered as companions, who handed down traditions; and when these were all dead they were followed by others, who, having known the companions, were now designated as the successors of the companions. [Footnote 3: The names of these companions, and the kings, princes, and countries to which they were sent by Muhammad, are given in full detail in 'The Life of our Lord Muhammad, the Apostle of God,' the author of which was Ibn Ishak; and it was afterwards edited by Ibn Hisham. In the same work a list is given of the disciples sent out by Jesus.] Under these circumstances it can easily be imagined that many of the traditions were of doubtful authenticity. Al-Bukhari, whose collection of traditions of the Muhammadan religion holds the first place, both as regards authority and correctness, selected seven thousand two hundred and seventy-five of the most authentic out of ten thousand, all of which he regarded as being true, having rejected two hundred thousand as false. His book is held in the highest estimation, and considered both in spiritual and temporal matters as next in authority to the Koran. He was born A.D. 810, and died A.D. 870. The Shiahs do not accept the collection of traditions as made by the Sunnis, but have a collection of their own, upon which their system of law, both civil and religious, is founded. During the first and second centuries of the Hijrah (A.D. 622-816), of all the physical sciences alchemy was studied most. The greatest scientific man of the first century was undoubtedly Khalid, a prince of the Omaiyide dynasty, and the son of Yazid I. His zeal for knowledge and science induced him to get Greek and Syriac works translated by Stephanus into Arabic, especially those which treated on chemistry, or rather alchemy. Khalid, having been once reproached for wasting all his time in researches in the art of alchemy, replied: 'I have occupied myself with these investigations to show my contemporaries and brothers that I have found in them a recompense and a reward for the Khalifate which I lost. I stand in need of no man to recognise me at court, and I need not recognise anyone who dances attendance at the portals of dominion either from fear, ambition, or covetousness.' He wrote a poem on alchemy, which bears the title of 'Paradise of Wisdom,' and of him Ibn Khallikan says: 'He was the most learned man of the tribe of Koraish in all the different branches of knowledge. He wrote a discourse on chemistry and on medicine, in which sciences he possessed great skill and solid information.' He died A.D. 704. Later on Jaber bin Hayam, with his pupils, became a model for later alchemists, and he has been called the father of Arabian chemistry. He compiled a work of two thousand pages, in which he inserted the problems of his master, Jaafar as Sadik, considered to be the father of all the occult sciences in Islam. Jaber was such a prolific writer that many of his five hundred works are said to bear his name only on account of his celebrity, but to have been written in reality by a variety of authors. His works on alchemy were published in Latin by Golius, under the title of 'Lapis Philosophorum,' and an English translation of them by Robert Russell appeared at Leyden in A.D. 1668. Jaber died A.D. 766, and is not to be confounded with Al-Jaber (Geber), the astronomer, who lived at Seville about A.D. 1190, and constructed there an astronomical observatory. Astronomy appears to have been always a favourite science with the Arabs from the earliest times. In A.D. 772 there appeared at the court of the Khalif Mansur (A.D. 754-775), Muhammad bin Ibrahim bin Habib al Fezari, the astronomer, who brought with him the tables called Sind Hind, in which the motions of the stars were calculated according to degrees. They contained other observations on solar eclipses and the rising of the signs of the zodiac, extracted by him from the tables ascribed to the Indian king, Figar. The Khalif Mansur ordered this book to be translated into Arabic to serve as a guide for Arab astronomers. And these tables remained in use till the time of the Khalif Mamun (A.D. 813-833), when other revised ones bearing his name came into vogue. These, again, were abridged by Abul Ma'shar (Albumasar, died A.D. 885-886), called the prince of Arabian astrologers, who, however, deviated from them, and inclined towards the system of the Persians and of Ptolemy. This second revision was more favourably received by the Arab astronomers than the first, and the Sind Hind was superseded by the Almagest of Ptolemy. Better astronomical instruments also came into use, though previously the Al-Fezari above mentioned had been the first in Islam who constructed astrolabes of various kinds, and had written several astronomical treatises. Mention might be made of about forty mathematicians and astronomers who wrote books on these subjects. The best of them, such as Al-Farghani (Alfraganius) and others, lived at the court of Mamun, who built an astronomical observatory in Baghdad and another near Damascus, on Mount Kasiun. He caused also two degrees of the meridian to be measured on the plain of Sinjar, so as to ascertain the circumference of the earth with more precision. In A.D. 824 there were held philosophical disputations in his presence. Al-Farghani was the author of an introduction to astronomy, which was printed by Golius at Amsterdam in 1669, with notes. Between the years A.D. 877 and 929 there flourished the famous calculator and astronomer, Muhammad bin Jaber al Battani, Latinized as Albategnius. He was the author of the astronomical work entitled 'The Sabæan Tables,' and adopted nearly the system and the hypothesis of Ptolemy, but rectified them in several points, and made other discoveries, which procured him a distinguished place among the scholars whose labours have enriched astronomical science. Al-Battani approached much nearer to the truth than the ancients as far as the movements of the fixed stars are concerned. He measured the greatness of the eccentricity of the solar orbit, and a more correct result cannot be obtained. To the work containing all his discoveries he gave the name of 'As-Zij-as Sabi,' which was translated into Latin under the title 'De Scientiâ Stellarum.' The first edition of it appeared at Nuremberg in A.D. 1537, but it is believed that the original work is in the library of the Vatican. He was classed by Lalande among the forty-two most celebrated astronomers of the world. He died A.D. 929-930. Another celebrated astronomer, Ali bin Yunis, was a native of Egypt, and appears to have lived at the court of the demented tyrant of Egypt, Al-Hakim bramrillah, and under his patronage to have composed the celebrated astronomical tables called, after his name, 'The Hakimite Tables.' Ibn Khallikan states that he had seen these tables in four volumes, and that more extensive ones had not come under his notice. These tables were considered in Egypt to be of equal value to those of the astronomer Yabya bin Ali Mansur, who had in A.D. 830, by order of the Khalif Mamun, undertaken astronomical observations both at Baghdad and Damascus. Ibn Yunis spent his life in the preparation of astronomical tables and in casting horoscopes, for it must be remembered that with the Muslims astronomy and astrology were synonymous, and their most learned astronomers were also their most skilful astrologers. His character for honesty was highly esteemed, and he was also well versed in other sciences, and displayed an eminent talent for poetry. He died A.D. 1009, and is not to be confounded with his father, Ibn Yunis, the historian, who died A.D. 958. Yet another name must be mentioned, viz., the Spanish-Arab astronomer Ibn Abd-ar-Rahman Es-Zerkel, Europeanized as Arzachal. He first resided at Toledo, at the court of its sovereign, Mamun, for whom he made an astrolabe, which he called in his honour the Mamunian. He then went to Seville, where he wrote for Motamid bin Abbad (A.D. 1069-1091) a treatise on the use of certain instruments. During his residence at Toledo he constructed two clepsydras, the waters of which decreased and increased according to the waning and growing of the moon, and these two basins were destroyed only in A.D. 1133 by Alphonse VI., when he took Toledo. Arzachal left a work on eclipses, and on the revolution of years, as well as the tables of the sky, to which the name of Toledan tables have been given. His writings, but especially the last, which must have been consulted by the editors of the Alphonsine tables, were never translated, and exist only in manuscript in libraries where but few scholars can consult them. Arzachal made many observations in connection with the sun, and was also the inventor of the astronomical instrument called after his name, Zerkalla. He died A.D. 1080. Before leaving this subject it may be mentioned that Makkari, in his great encyclopædia of Spain, enumerates fifteen astronomers of Andalusia, all more or less known in their time. Also that Bedei-ul-Astrolabi and Ibn Abdul-Rayman distinguished themselves as makers of astronomical instruments, and inventors of new ones. While Arzachal was the greatest representative of Arab astronomy in the West, Umar Khayam, the astronomer, mathematician, freethinker, and poet, was its greatest representative in the East, in Persia, where he died A.D. 1123. A great deal in Arabic literature has been written about grammar, and, until its principles were finally laid down and established, it was always a source of continual controversy between different professors and different schools. Abul Aswad ad-Duwali has been called the father of Arabic grammar. It is said that the Khalif Ali laid down for him this principle: the parts of speech are three, the noun, the verb, and the particle, and told him to form a complete treatise upon it. This was accordingly done; and other works on the subject were also produced, but none of them are apparently now extant. Muhammad bin Ishak has stated that he saw one of them, entitled 'Discourse on the Governing and the Governed Parts of Speech;' and the author of the 'Fihrist' also alludes to this work. Abul-Aswad died at Busra in A.D. 688, aged eighty-five, but some years later his two successors in this branch of literature (viz., Al-Khalil and Sibawaih) far surpassed him in every way. Al-Khalil bin Ahmad, born A.D. 718, was one of the great masters in the science of grammar, and the discoverer of the rules of prosody, which art owes to him its creation. He laid the foundation of the language by his book 'Al-Ain' (so called from the letter with which it begins), and by the aid he afforded thereby to Sibawaih, whose master he was, in the composition of his celebrated grammatical work known by the name of 'The Book.' In the work called 'Al-Ain,' Khalil first arranged the stock of Arabic words, dealing with the organ of speech and the production of sounds, and then dividing the words into classes, the roots of which consisted of one, two, three, four, or five letters. It is still a matter of dispute whether the book 'Al-Ain' was wholly composed by Khalil himself, or completed in course of time by his pupils. A copy of this celebrated lexicon and work on philology is in the Escurial Library. Khalil also wrote a treatise on prosody, and other works on grammar, and a book on musical intonation. He died A.D. 786, at Busra. 'Poverty,' he said, 'consists not in the want of money, but of soul; and riches are in the mind, not in the purse.' Sibawaih, the pupil of Khalil, has been called the father of Arabic lexicography, and the lawgiver of Arabic grammar. Ibn Khallikan says that he was a learned grammarian, and surpassed in this science every person of former and later times. As for his 'Kitab,' or 'Book,' composed by him on that subject, it has never had its equal. The great philologist and grammarian, Al-Jahiz, said of the book of Sibawaih, that none like it had ever been written on grammar, and that all writers on this subject who had succeeded him had borrowed from it. When Al-Kisai was tutor to the prince Al-Amin, son of Harun-ar-Rashid, Sibawaih came to Baghdad, and the two great grammarians (Sibawaih, the chief of the school of Busra, and Al-Kisai, chief of the school of Kufa) had a long dispute about a certain expression of Arabic speech, and an Arab of the desert was called in to arbitrate between them. The man first decided in favour of Sibawaih, but when the question was put in another form, the Bedouin asserted that Kisai was right. As Sibawaih considered that he had been unjustly treated in the matter, he left Baghdad for good. The year of his death has been given differently by various authors, the earliest date being A.D. 787, and the latest A.D. 809. The most celebrated grammarians of the third century of the Hijrah (A.D. 816-913) were Al-Mubarrad, who died A.D. 898, and Thalab, who died A.D. 903. They were also great antagonists to each other. Al-Mubarrad, the author of thirty works, was the chief of the school of Busra, and Thalab of that of Kufa, both founded during the preceding century by Sibawaih and Kisai. Thalab was the first collector of books in Islam, and those left by him were very valuable. Mention must also be made of Al-Farra, the grammarian, and distinguished by his knowledge of grammar, philology, and various branches of literature. He died A.D. 822, at the age of sixty-three, and preceded both Mubarrad and Thalab, the latter of whom used to say: 'Were it not for Al-Farra, pure Arabic would no longer exist; it was he who disengaged it from the ordinary language and fixed it by writing.' At the request of the Khalif Al-Mamun he drew up in two years a most elaborate work, which contained the principles of grammar, and all the pure Arabic expressions which he had heard. It was entitled 'Al-Hudûd' (the Limits or Chapters), and directly it was finished he commenced another in connection with the Koran, which is spoken of as a most wonderful production. He wrote besides several other works on grammar, and acted as tutor to the two sons of the Khalif Mamun. Though many other grammarians could be named, such as Al-Akhfash al Ausat, Abu Amr as Shaibani, Abu Bakr al Anbari, etc., none can be considered so celebrated as the persons above mentioned, who are regarded as the founders of the principles on which Arabic grammar has been established. In the middle of the third century of the Hijrah (A.D. 816-913), the Arabs first began to distinguish themselves as travellers and geographers. When Muslim Homeir was, in A.D. 845, ransomed from his captivity among the Byzantines and returned to his country, he wrote a book with the title of 'Admonitions on the Countries, Kings and Offices of the Greeks.' Forty years afterwards Jaafar bin Ahmed al Mervezi produced the first geographical work under the title of 'Highways and Countries,' which was followed by those of Ibn Foslan, Ibn Khordabeh, Jeihani, Al-Istakhri, Ibn Haukul, Al-Beruni, Al-Bekri and Idrisi. The great historian, Masudi, was also a writer of travels and an ambassador. Ibn Foslan was sent by the Khalif Muktadir (A.D. 908-932) to the King of the Bulgarians. Abu Dolaf, who accompanied an ambassador from China to the frontiers of that country, made, on his return, a report which Yakut afterwards embodied in his voluminous geographical Dictionary. A few details will be given about the six chief geographers and travellers of this period, viz., Ibn Khordabeh, Al-Istakhri, Ibn Haukul, Al-Beruni, Al-Bekri and Idrisi. As regards the first-named, it would appear that he has been the object of considerable controversies among the Orientalists of Europe. After employment in the post and intelligence departments in the provinces, he subsequently came to the court of the Khalif Motamid (A.D. 870-892), and became one of his privy councillors. He is the author of several works on various subjects, but his 'Geography,' says Sir H.M. Elliot, is the only work we possess of this author, and of this there is only one copy in Europe, in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. He died about A.D. 912. Al-Istakhri, who flourished about the year A.D. 951, obtained his name from Istakhar (_i.e._, Persepolis), where he was born. He was a traveller whose geographical work has been translated into German by Mordtmann. When Istakhari was in the Indus Valley he met another celebrated traveller, Ibn Haukul, whose book Sir William Ouseley translated in A.D. 1800 into English, under the title of 'The Oriental Geography of Ibn Haukul.' Haukul, who died A.D. 976, had travelled for nearly twenty-eight years in the countries of Islam with the works of Ibn Khordabeh and Jeihani in his hands, and his work, which bears the generally approved title of 'Highways and Countries,' is based on the book of Istakhri. But the greatest geographer and naturalist of this period is Abu Raihan Al-Beruni (born about A.D. 971), who accompanied Mahmud the Ghaznavide on his invasions to India. He was to Mahmud of Ghazni what Aristotle was to Alexander, with the difference, however, that he actually accompanied the conqueror on his Indian campaigns. He travelled into different countries and to and from India for the space of forty years, and during that time was much occupied with astronomy and astronomical observations, as well as geography. His works are said to have exceeded a camel-load, but the most valuable of all of them is his description of India. It gives an account of the religion of India, its philosophy, literature, geography, chronology, astronomy, customs, law and astrology about a.d. 1030, and has been edited by Edward Sachau, Professor in the Royal University of Berlin. An English edition, containing a preface, the translation of the Arabic text, notes and indices, has also been published. Al-Beruni died at Ghurna A.D. 1038. He used to correspond with Avicenna, who was his contemporary, and who gives in his works the answers to the questions addressed to him by this famous geographer, astronomer, geometrician, historian, scholar, and logician. Some years later Abu O'beid Abd-Allah Al-Bekri distinguished himself as one of the greatest geographers, with whose labours Quatremere and Dozy and Gayangos have made us better acquainted. He was, by birth, from Andalusia, whence also many others travelled to the East, either for instruction or for trade or as pilgrims, and of whom about a couple of dozen are mentioned by Makkari. Some of these gave descriptions and topographies, to which class of literature also the poetical laudations of celebrated towns belong. Not only Baghdad, Damascus, Cairo, Fez, Morocco and Khairwan were praised or satirized, but also Cordova, Seville, Granada, Malaga, Toledo, Valencia and Zohra were described in Arabic poems. Al-Bekri died in A.D. 1094-1095, and was followed by Idrisi, the author of a work on Arabian geography of some celebrity, and which has been translated into Latin. He died A.D. 1164. Of historians in Arab literature there are many, but only the most celebrated will be noted. Muhammad bin Ishak, who died about A.D. 767, produced the best and most trustworthy biography of the prophet Muhammad. His work was published under the patronage of the Abbaside princes, and was, in fact, composed for the Khalif Al-Mansur (A.D. 754-775). It was used as the chief source of information by Ibn Hisham, the next historian of note, in his life of the Prophet, which work has been edited by Dr. Wustenfeld, and translated into German by Dr. Weil, and into English by Mr. E. Rehatsek, whose manuscript, however, has not yet been printed. Ibn Hisham, who died in A.D. 828, was the father of Arabic genealogy, and Abu-el-Siyadi, who died in A.D. 857, is next to him. But the real father of Arabian history was Al-Wackidi, a good and trustworthy historian, thirty-two of whose works are known, all relating to the conquests of the Arabs, and other such subjects. He died A.D. 822. With him generally has been associated his secretary, Muhammad bin Saad, a man of unimpeachable integrity, and of the highest talents, merit, and eminence. He has left us some most interesting works, full of valuable information relating to those times. He died at Baghdad A.D. 844. Al-Madaini, who died A.D. 839, was the author of two hundred and fifty historical works, of which, however, nothing has yet been discovered, except their titles as given in the 'Fihrist.' Passing over many other historians, two more only will be mentioned, viz., Abu Jafir at-Tabari and Al-Masúdi. Tabari (whose annals are now being edited by a company of European Orientalists) was born A.D. 838, at Amol, in the province of Tabaristan. He travelled a great deal, and composed many works on history, poetry, grammar and lexicography. His work on jurisprudence extends to several volumes, and his historical works stamp him as one of the most reliable of Arab historians, while his numerous other works also bear witness to the variety and accuracy of his acquirements. He died at Baghdad A.D. 923, and has been called by Gibbon the Livy of the Arabians. Al-Masúdi, a contemporary of the great historian Tabari, died thirty-four years after him, in A.D. 957. His great work, 'Meadows of Gold and Mines of Gems,' with the Arabic text above and a French translation below, has been published in nine volumes (1861-1877) by Barbier de Meynard, in connection with Pavet de Courteille, at the expense of the French Government. Dr. A. Sprenger (who translated one volume of the work into English for the Oriental Translation Fund, London, 1841) calls the author of it the Herodotus of Arabian history, because he had, like his Greek prototype, undertaken extensive travels, and had like him made the description of countries and nations his chief occupation. The titles of ten of his works are known to us, but the principal one is that named above, in the composition of which he used eighty-five historical, geographical, and philological works, as he himself informs us in the first chapter of his history. The work itself contains one hundred and thirty-two chapters. Ibn al Athir al Jazari, born A.D. 1160 and died A.D. 1233, was also an historian of note, and a personal friend of Ibn Khallikan, who writes of him as follows: 'His knowledge of the Traditions, and his acquaintance with that science in its various branches, placed him in the first rank; and his learning as an historian of the ancients and moderns was not less extensive; he was perfectly familiar with the genealogy of the Arabs, their adventures, combats and history; whilst his great work, "The Kâmil or Complete," embracing the history of the world from the earliest period to the year 628 of the Hijrah (A.D. 1230-1231), merits its reputation as one of the best productions of the kind.' Another of Ibn Al Athir's works is the history of the most eminent among the companions of Muhammad, in the shape of a biographical dictionary. As the development of Arab letters proceeded, in the course of time various authors began to tabulate the different branches of knowledge and science, and these, with the biographies of many of the writers, and the lists of their works, formed a distinct branch in the literature of that day. The most noteworthy of them all was Abul Faraj Muhammad bin Ishak, who is generally known by the name of Ibn Ali Yakub al Warrak the copyist, surnamed An-Nadim al Baghdadi, the social companion from Baghdad, and the author of the 'Fihrist.' It may be truly said that this writer, along with Ibn Khallikan, laid the foundations of the records of the edifice of encyclopædical and biographical works, which was afterwards completed by Haji Khalfa and Abul Khair. Without the work of Ibn Khallikan it would be as impossible to give a history of Arab scholars, as without the work of An-Nadim to give an account of Arab literature. The 'Kitab al-Fihrist' was written by An-Nadim in A.D. 987, and is divided into ten sections, dealing with every branch of letters and learning. It gives the names of many authors and their works long since extant, and shows the enormous amount of writings produced by the Arabs during the periods under review, up to A.D. 987, the date of the author's work. A short account of this ancient and curious book has been given in the _Journal Asiatique_ for December, 1839, and from the work itself Von Hammer Purgstall has been able to gather that the 'Thousand and One Nights' ('Arabian Nights') had a Persian origin. In the eighth section of the 'Fihrist' the author says that the first who composed tales and apologues were the kings of the early Persian dynasties, and that these tales were augmented and amplified by the Sasanians (A.D. 228-641). The Arabs then translated them into their own language, and composed other stories like them. Ibn Khallikan, the most worthy of biographers, must also be mentioned here, though he died in A.D. 1282, twenty-four years after the fall of Baghdad, having been born in A.D. 1211. This very eminent scholar and follower of Shafa'i doctrines, was born at Arbela, but resided at Damascus, where he had filled the place of Chief Kadi till the year A.D. 1281, when he was dismissed, and from that time to the day of his death he never went out of doors. He was a man with the greatest reputation for learning, versed in various sciences, and highly accomplished. He was a scholar, a poet, a compiler, a biographer and an historian. By his talents and writings he merited the honourable title of the most learned man and the ablest historian. His celebrated biographical work, called the 'Wafiat-ul-Aiyan,' or Deaths of Eminent Men, is the acme of perfection. This work was translated from the Arabic by Baron MacGuckin de Slane, a member of the council of the Asiatic Society of Paris, and printed by the Oriental Translation Fund of Great Britain and Ireland in A.D. 1842, 1843, 1868 and 1871. For all those who wish to gain a knowledge of the legal literature of the Muhammadans it is a most valuable work, as the Baron has added to the text numerous learned notes, replete with curious and interesting information relating to the Muhammadan law and lawyers. Ibn Khallikan died, aged seventy-three lunar years, in the Najibia College at Damascus, and was buried in the cemetery of As-Salihiya, a well-known village situated on the declivity of Mount Kasiun, a short distance to the north of Damascus, and from which a splendid view of the town and its surrounding gardens is obtained. When lately there I made inquiries about the tomb of this great Arab _littérateur_, but without success. His tomb has quite disappeared, and his name seemed to be forgotten; but his work still lives, an everlasting monument of his industry and his intelligence. It will be remembered that the early Arab poets described men, women, animals, and their surroundings in their effusive Kasidas before prose-writing was established. Later on grammarians and philologists began to write books on the different objects of nature and on the physiology of man; also treatises on the horse, the camel, bees, mountains, seas, rivers, and all natural phenomena. There were thus laid down, though not a scientific, at least a philological basis, for the future development of the natural sciences and geography. Such monographs were only in later times collected in encyclopaedic works, in which they were inserted in such a manner as to constitute various chapters only, and no longer separate treatises. Khalef-al-Ahmer (whom Suyuti declared to be a great forger, because he pretended that some poems written by himself had been composed by ancient Arab poets) wrote the first book on Arab mountains, and about the poems recited concerning them. Ahmed bin-ud Dinveri wrote, in addition to several grammatical and mathematical works, a book on plants, and after him the grammarian Al-Jahiz wrote the first treatise on animals, but more from a philological point of view than from that of natural history. He wrote, moreover, on theology, geography, natural history, and philology; but his most celebrated work is his 'Book of Animals,' in which he displayed all his knowledge of the Arabic tongue. He was frightfully ugly, and obtained the surname of Jahiz on account of his protuberant eyes. He himself informs us that the Khalif Mutwakkil intended to appoint him as tutor to his sons, but was deterred by his ugliness, and dismissed him with a present of ten thousand dirhems. Al-Jahiz died A.D. 869, over ninety years of age. Philology is a term now generally used as applicable to that science which embraces human language in its widest extent, and may be shortly called 'the science of language.' But in earlier times philology included, with few exceptions, everything that could be learned--many and various subjects, without particular reference to the meaning now generally adopted concerning it. There will be found among the Arab authors of this period many philologists who also wrote upon other matters, but have been recorded here as having particularly excelled in this particular branch of learning. Al Kasim bin Ma'an was the first who wrote on the rarities of the language and on the peculiarities of authors, and, according to the 'Fihrist,' he surpassed all his contemporaries by the variety of his information. Tradition and traditionists, poetry and poets, history and historians, scholastic theology and theologians, genealogy and genealogists, were the subjects on which he displayed the extent of his acquirements. He died A.D. 791. Abu Ali Muhammad bin-al Mustanir bin Ahmad, generally known by the name of Kutrub, was also a grammarian and philologist, and wrote books and treatises on these subjects, as also on natural history. He died A.D. 821. Philology and Arabic poetry were the special objects of the studies of Abu Amr Ishak bin Mirar as Shaibani, and in these two branches of knowledge his authority is of the highest order. He composed a number of works and treatises, and wrote with his own hand upwards of eighty volumes. He died A.D. 825. But the two earliest, and perhaps the two most celebrated, philologists were Al-Asmai and Abu Obaida, who outshone their successors for all time to come, and were distinguished--the former by his wit, and the latter by his scholarship. Abu Said Abd-al Malik bin Kuraib al-Asmai was born A.D. 739 or 740, and died A.D. 831. He was a complete master of the Arabic language, an able grammarian, and the most eminent of all those who transmitted orally historical narrations, anecdotes, stories, and rare expressions of the language. When the poet Abu Nuwas was informed that Asmai and Abu Obaida had been introduced at Harun's court, he said that the latter would narrate ancient and modern history, but that the former would charm with his melodies. Ibn Shabba was informed by Asmai himself 'that he knew by heart sixteen thousand pieces of verse composed in the measure called Rajaz, or free metre,' and Ishak al Mausili asserted 'that he never heard al-Asmai profess to know a branch of science without discovering that none knew it better than he.' No one ever explained better than Al-Asmai the idioms of the desert Arabs. Most of his works, which amount to thirty-six, treat of the language and its grammar; but he also wrote a book on the horse and different treatises on various other animals, such as the camel, the sheep, wild beasts, etc., and their physiology. Al-Asmai's contemporary, Abu Obaida, was an able grammarian and an accomplished scholar. He was born A.D. 728, and died at Busra A.D. 824, leaving nearly two hundred treatises, of which the names of many have been given by Ibn Khallikan, and most of them are of a purely philological character. There are many anecdotes about him, and many sayings of clever men regarding him. Abu Nuwas took lessons from Abu Obaida, praised him highly, and decried Al-Asmai, whom he detested. When asked what he thought of Al-Asmai, he replied, 'A nightingale in a cage,' meaning probably that a nightingale in a cage is pleasing to hear, but there is nothing else good about it. Abu Obaida he described as 'a bundle of science packed up in a skin.' Abu Zaid al-Ansari was a philologist and grammarian, and a contemporary of the two persons just described. He held the first rank among the literary men of that time, and devoted his attention principally to the study of the philology of the Arabic language, its singular terms and rare expressions. Of him Al-Mubarrad said: 'Abu Zaid was an abler grammarian than Al-Asmai and Abu Obaida, but these two came next to him, and were near to each other. Abu Obaida was the most accomplished scholar of the day.' Abu Zaid composed a number of useful philological works, and titles of thirty-one of them are given in the 'Fihrist.' He died A.D. 830, over ninety years of age. Abu Othman Bakr bin Muhammad bin Habib al-Mayini, briefly called Abu Othman, was celebrated as a philologer and grammarian, as also for his knowledge in general literature. He learned philology from Abu Zaid, Abu Obaida, Al-Asmai, and others, and had for pupil Al-Mubarrad, who learned much from his master, and handed down many pieces of traditional literature obtained from him. Abu Othman, once being asked his opinion about various men of science, curtly summarized them as follows: 'The Koran-readers are deceitful administrators, the traditionists are satisfied with superfluities, poets are too superficial, grammarians much too heavy, narrators deal only in neat expressions, and the only real science is jurisprudence,' He died A.D. 863. Abul Aina was a philologist, but also a great joker, anecdote-teller, and poet. His memory was equal to his eloquence, and, being quick-witted, he was never in want of a repartee when the occasion required it; indeed, he ranked among the most brilliant wits of the age. To a vizier, who said that everything current about the liberality of the Barmekides was only so much exaggeration and invention of leaf-scribblers, he replied: 'Of you, O vizier, the leaf-scribblers will certainly report nothing and invent nothing.' There are many other anecdotes and stories told about him. Being asked how long he would continue to praise some and satirize others, he replied: 'As long as the virtuous do good and the wicked do evil, but God forbid that I should be as the scorpion which stingeth equally the prophet and the infidel.' He had a most wonderful memory, which he applied, however, not to the preservation of interpretations and their vouchers, but to that of anecdotes, drolleries, and witty sayings, wherefore his name has been perpetuated as that of a joker. He died A.D. 896. Mention must also be made of Abdullah bin Muslim bin Kutaiba, who was a philologist and grammarian of eminent talent, and noted for the correctness of his information. He was the author of many works, such as 'The Book of Facts,' 'The Writer's Guide,' 'Notices on the Poets,' and 'A Treatise on Horses,' and others, all of which were more or less celebrated in their time. He was born A.D. 828, and died, some say, in A.D. 884, others in A.D. 908. Ibn Duraid, whose many other names are given by Ibn Khallikan, is described by that author as 'the most accomplished scholar, the ablest philologer, and the first poet of the age.' Masudi and other men of learning also speak of him in the highest terms. He composed several works on natural history, and produced also a complete Dictionary of this kind, after the model of the books 'Al-A'in' and 'Al-Jim,' the two letters of the alphabet with which Khalil, the grammarian, and Abu Amr as Shaibani respectively began their works. Ibn Duraid died at Baghdad A.D. 933. The celebrated Motazelite divine Abu Haslim Abd-as Salam Al-Jubbai died the same day, and this caused the people to say that 'To-day philology and dogmatic theology have ceased to exist.' In the East, by philosophy not only logic and metaphysics are meant, but also all ethical, political, mathematical, and medical sciences. Indeed, it may be said that nearly all learned men were in those days called philosophers, a term which included mathematicians, astronomers, physicians, encyclopædists and others. From the mass of Arab authors all laying claim to the title of philosopher, it is perhaps an invidious task to select a few only, and even those selected by one person might be rejected by another. But public opinion will probably agree in naming three persons as having claim to the highest rank in Arab learning. They are Al-Kindi, Al-Farabi, and Ali-ibn Sina, commonly called Avicenna. Ali-bin Ridhwan, Al-Ghazali, Ibn Bajah (Avempace), and Ibn Rashid (Averroes) have also their claims to be considered, while Thalab bin Korra, Kosta bin Luka, Al-Tavhidi, and Al-Majridi were also all eminent men. A few details will be given about the first seven of the names just mentioned. Yakub-bin Ishak Al-Kindi, the philosopher of the Arabs, known in Europe by the corrupted name of Alchendius, possessed an encyclopædic mind, and being himself a living encyclopædia, he composed one of all the sciences. He divided philosophy into three branches, the mathematical, the physical, and the ethical. He declared the nullity of alchemy, which Ibn Sina had again brought to honourable notice, till the physician Abdul Latif declaimed against it. But Al-Kindi was not sufficiently advanced to write against astrology, which is still in full force all over the East even in our own times. Only one of his works has as yet been published in Europe, and that treats on the composition of medicines, though we possess the titles of not less than two hundred and thirty-four works composed by him on a variety of subjects. He died A.D. 861. Abu Nasr Al-Farabi (Alfarabius), called by the Arabs a second Aristotle, is generally considered to be the second Arab philosopher; Avicenna, who always quotes him in his works, the third; the first place being assigned to Al-Kindi. Al-Farabi studied Arabic (he was a Turk by birth) and philosophy in Baghdad, where he attended the lectures of Abu Bishr Matta bin Yunus, who possessed, and also imparted to his pupils, the gift of expressing the deepest meanings in the easiest words. From Baghdad he went to Harran, where Yuhanna bin Khailan, the Christian philosopher, was teaching logic, and after his return he made all the works of Aristotle his special study. It is related that the following note was found inscribed in Al-Farabi's handwriting on a copy of Aristotle's treatise on the soul: 'I have read over this book two hundred times.' He also said that he had read over Aristotle's 'Physics' forty times, and felt that he ought to read it over again. Abul Kasim Said, of Cordova, says in his 'Classes of Philosophers' that 'Al-Farabi led all the professors of Islam to the right understanding of logic by unveiling and explaining its secrets, as well as by considering all those points which Al-Kindi had neglected, and by teaching the application of analogy to all occurring cases.' In his enumeration and limitation of the sciences, Al-Farabi embraced the whole system of knowledge as it then existed. He went to Egypt, and afterwards to Damascus, where he died in A.D. 950. During his residence at Damascus he was mostly to be found near the borders of some rivulet, or in a shady garden; there he composed his works and received the visits of his pupils. He was extremely abstemious, and entirely indifferent to wealth and poverty. The list of his works on philosophical and scientific subjects amount to sixty-one. Mr. Munk's 'Mélanges de Philosophie Juive et Arabe' (Paris, 1859) contains good articles on Al-Farabi and Al-Kindi. Ibn Sina (Avicenna) was a great philosopher and physician. At the age of ten years he had completed the study of the Koran in Bukhara, where afterwards a certain Natili became his tutor, with whom he first studied the 'Eisagoge' of Porphyry, and afterwards Euclid, and lastly the 'Almagest' of Ptolemy. Natili then departed, and an ardent desire to study medicine having taken possession of Ibn Sina, he commenced to read medical books, which not being so difficult to understand as mathematics and metaphysics, he made such rapid progress in them that he soon became an excellent physician, and cured his patients by treating them with well-approved remedies. He began also to study jurisprudence before he was thirteen. At the age of eighteen he entered the service of a prince of the Beni Saman dynasty, Nuh bin Mansur, at Bukhara, a paralytic, who entertained many physicians at his court, and Ibn Sina joined their number. There he composed his 'Collection,' in which he treated of all the sciences except mathematics, and there also he wrote his book of 'The Acquirer and the Acquired.' He then left Bukhara, and lived in various towns of Khurasan, but never went further west, spending his whole life in the countries beyond the Oxus, in Khwarizm and in Persia, although he wrote in Arabic. It would be superfluous to follow all his changes of fortune, but it may be mentioned that when he was the first physician and vizier of Mezd-ud-daulah, a sultan of the Bowide dynasty, he was twice deposed and put in irons. He also appears to have acted treacherously towards Ala-ud-daulah, a prince of Ispahan, who was his benefactor. He was four years in prison, but at last succeeded in deceiving his guardians, and escaped. His dangerous travels, and the depression of mind inseparable from reverses of fortune, however, never interrupted his scientific pursuits. His taste for study and his activity were such that, as he himself informs us, not a single day passed in which he had not written fifty leaflets. The list of manuscripts left by him, and scattered in various libraries of Europe, is considerable, and though many of his works have been lost, some are still in existence. The fatigues of his long journeys, and the excesses of all kinds in which he indulged, abridged the life of this celebrated scholar, who died in A.D. 1037, at the age of fifty-six, at Hamadan, where the following epitaph adorns his tomb: 'The great philosopher, the great physician, Ibn Sina, is dead. His books on philosophy have not taught him the art of living well, nor his books on medicine the art of living long.' A brief notice must be given of the celebrated physician and philosopher, Ali bin Ridhwan, who died A.D. 1067. He was such a prodigy of precocious learning that he began to lecture on medicine and philosophy at Cairo from his fourteenth year. He afterwards also taught astronomy. At the age of thirty-two he had attained a great reputation as a physician, and was a rich man at sixty. He left more than one hundred books which he had composed, and he himself says: 'I made abridgments of the chief philosophical works of the ancients, and left in this manner five books on philology; ten on law; the medical works of Hippocrates and Galen; the book of plants of Dioskorides; the books of Rufus, Paulus, Hawi, and Razi; four books on agriculture and drugs; four books for instruction in the 'Almagest' of Ptolemy, and an introduction to the study of it, and to the square of Ptolemy; as also to the works of Plato, Alexander, Themistios, and Al-Farabi. I purchased all these books, no matter what they cost, and preserved them in chests, although it would have been more profitable to have sold them again rather than have kept them.' Ibn Batlan, a clever physician, was a contemporary of Ibn Ridhwan, and travelled from Baghdad to Egypt only for the purpose of making his acquaintance, but the result does not appear to have been satisfactory to either party. He died A.D. 1063, leaving a number of works on medical and other subjects. Abu Hamid Al-Ghazali was born A.D. 1058. He was considered chiefly as a lawyer and a mystic, but here he will be noticed chiefly as a philosopher and the author of 'The Ruin of Philosophers,' noticed at length by Haji Khalfa in his 'Encyclopædical Dictionary,' under No. 3764. But Ghazali's most celebrated work is 'The Resuscitation of Religious Sciences,' which is so permeated by the genius of Islam that, according to the general opinion of scholars, the Muhammadan religion, if it were to perish, might again be restored from this work alone. Orthodox fanatics, nevertheless, attacked his works as being schismatic, and they were even burnt in the Mugrib. He was born at Tus (the modern Mashad), in Khurasan, and passed his life partly there, also at Naisapur, Baghdad, Damascus, Egypt, and finally returned to Tus, where he died A.D. 1111. His works are very numerous, and all of them are instructive. Ibn Bajah (known to Europeans under the name of Avempace) was a philosoper and a poet of considerable celebrity, and a native of Saragossa, in Spain. He was attacked by some people for his religious opinions, and represented as an infidel and an atheist, professing the doctrines held by the ancient sages and philosophers. Ibn Khallikan defends Ibn Bajah, and says that these statements were much exaggerated, but adds: 'God, however, knows best what his principles were,' Abul Hassan Ali al-Imam, of Granada, was of opinion that Ibn Bajah was the greatest Arab philosopher after Al-Farabi, and places him higher than Ibn Sina and Al-Ghazali. He left numerous logical, grammatical and political works, and died at Fez in A.D. 1138. Averroes, whose full and correct name is Abul Walid Muhammad bin Rashid, was a celebrated Arab scholar, born at Cordova A.D. 1126, and the author of many writings. He taught in his native town philosophy and medicine, two sciences which appeared for a long time to be inseparable, and the vulgar considered those professing them to be of almost supernatural attainments. The period of Averroes is that of the decadence of Arab dominion in Spain, a period when this great nation also lost the taste for sciences which it had brought to Europe. Considering the prodigious number of works composed by Averroes, who filled at the same time the offices of Imam and Kadi, his entire life must have been one of labour and meditation. He is the author of an Arabic version of Aristotle, but it is not the first which existed in that language, as some of his biographers assert, because this work had been produced already at Baghdad during the brilliant Khalifate of Mamun. There are various manuscripts of Averroes extant treating on physics, pure mathematics, astronomy and astrology, from which it would appear that, in spite of their encyclopædic attainments, the celebrated men of these times still believed in some popular errors. Science was at that time surrounded by a kind of superstitious halo of respect, to which Averroes, like so many others, is indebted for a good part of his renown. He died A.D. 1198, in the city of Morocco; his corpse was transferred to Cordova and there interred. Medical science had already, under the second Khalif of the house of Abbas (A.D. 754-775), enjoyed the highest honours, which it ever afterwards retained. Great physicians were brought from the Persian hospital of Jondshapur, and between the years A.D. 750 and 850 the number of physicians was considerable, but only the most celebrated will be noticed. Georgios (Jorjis) bin Bakhtyeshun, of Jondshapur, lived at the commencement of the Abbaside dynasty, and was the author of the book of Pandects. When Al-Mansur was building the city of Baghdad he suffered from pains in his stomach and from impotency, and Georgios, the director of the medical college at Jondshapur, was recommended to him as the most skilled physician of the time. Accordingly, the Khalif directed Georgios and two of his pupils, Ibrahim and Serjis, to come to Baghdad, appointing Gabriel (Jebrayl), the son of Georgios, as director of the hospital in the place of his father. Georgios cured Al-Mansur, and received from him three thousand ducats for his reward, along with a beautiful slave girl; the latter was, however, returned to the Khalif with thanks, and the remark that, 'being a Christian, he could not keep more than one wife.' From that moment the physician attained free access to the harem, and enjoyed high favour with the Khalif, who greatly pressed him in A.D. 770 to make a profession of Islam; but this he refused to do, and died shortly afterwards, in A.D. 771. Before his death Georgios asked to be allowed to return to Jondshapur, to be buried there with his ancestors. Al-Mansur said, 'Fear God, and I guarantee you paradise.' Georgios replied, 'I am satisfied to be with my ancestors, be it in paradise or be it in hell.' The Khalif laughed, allowed him to return home, and presented him with ten thousand pieces of gold for his travelling, expenses. Gabriel (Jebrayl), the son of the above-named Georgios (Jorjis), was also a celebrated physician. He enjoyed great favour with Harun-ar-Rashid, who used to declare that he would not refuse him anything. When, however, this Khalif fell ill at Tus, and asked Gabriel for his opinion, the latter replied that if Harun had followed his advice to be moderate in sexual pleasure, he would not have been attacked by the disease. For this reply he was thrown into prison, and his life was saved only by the chamberlain Rabi'i, who was very fond of him. Amin, the son and successor of Rashid, followed the advice of Gabriel more than his father did, and would not eat or drink anything without his doctor's sanction. In A.D. 817 Gabriel cured Sehl bin Hasan, who recommended him to Mamun; but Michael, the son-in-law of Gabriel, was his body physician. In A.D. 825 Mamun fell sick, and, as all the medicines of Michael were of no use, Isa, the brother of Mamun, advised him to get himself treated by Gabriel, who had known him from boyhood; but Abu Ishak, the other brother of Mamun, called in Yahya bin Maseweih, and when he could do nothing, then Mamun sent for Gabriel, who restored him to health in three days, and was handsomely rewarded in consequence. When Mamun marched, in A.D. 828, against the Byzantines, Gabriel fell sick and died, whereon the Khalif took Gabriel's son with him on the campaign, he being also an intelligent and skilled physician. The works of Gabriel are: (1) A treatise on food and drink, dedicated to Mamun. (2) An introduction to logic. (3) Extracts from medical Pandects. (4) A book on fumigatories. Isa bin Musa, who flourished about A.D. 833, was also one of the most distinguished physicians of the period. He left the following works: (1) Book on the forces of alimentary substances. (2) A treatise for a person who has no access to a physician. (3) Questions concerning derivations and races. (4) Book of dreams, indicating why medicines should not be given to pregnant women. (5) Book of the remedies mentioned by Hippocrates in his treatise on bleeding and cupping. (6) Dissertation on the use of baths. Without giving any details about Maseweih, Yahya bin Maseweih, Honein bin Ishak, and Kosta bin Luka, all of whom were distinguished for medical knowledge, some fuller mention must be made of Abu Bakr Ar-Razi (Rhases), who has been described as 'the ablest physician of that age and the most distinguished; a perfect master of the art of medicine, skilled in its practice, and thoroughly grounded in its principles and rules.' He composed a number of useful works on medicine, and some of his sayings have been handed down to us, and are still worthy of record, such as: (1) When you can cure by a regimen, avoid having recourse to medicine. (2) When you can effect a cure with a simple medicine, avoid employing a compound one. (3) With a learned physician and an obedient patient sickness soon disappears. (4) Treat an incipient malady with remedies which will not prostrate the strength. Till the end of his life he continued at the head of his profession, finally lost his sight, and died in A.D. 923. A new and much improved edition of Razi's 'Treatise on the Small-Pox and Measles' was published in London in A.D. 1848 by Dr. Greenhill, and an article on him will also be found in Wüstenfeld's 'History of the Arabian Physicians.' Poetry flourished to a very great extent during the reigns of the early Abbaside Khalifs, and, as all Arab _littérateurs_ were more or less poets and writers of verses, it is somewhat difficult to select the most celebrated. The first collection of Arabic poems was compiled by Al-Mofadhdhal in the work called after him--'Mofadhdhaliat.' He was followed by Abu Amr as Shaibani, by Abu Zaid bin A'us, Ibn-as Sikkit, Muhammad bin Habib, Abu Hatim es Sejastani, and Abu Othman al Mazini. Abu Tammam and Al-Bohtori, the collectors of the two Hamasas, are considered to be the two greatest poets of the third century of the Hijrah (A.D. 816-913). And it may here be observed that in the great bibliographical dictionary of Haji Khalfa, who enumerates seven Hamasas, the names of Ibn-ul Marzaban and of Ibn Demash, each of whom composed one, are not mentioned. Zukkari made himself a reputation by editing several of the Mua'llakat, as also the poems of the great pre-Islamite bards, Al-Aasha and Al-Kama, whilst Abu Bakr as Sauli likewise acquired great merit by publishing ten of the master-works of Arabic poetry. From the many poets of this period some of the most celebrated have been selected--viz., Farazdak, Jarir, Al-Akhtal, Abul-Atahya, Bashshar bin Burd, Abu Nuwas, Abu Tammam, Al-Otbi, Al-Bohtori, Al-Mutanabbi, and An-Nami, and a few biographical details about them will be given, as also some remarks about Al-Mofadhdhal, the first collector and compiler of Arab poetry, and of Abul Faraj-Al-Ispahani, the collector of the great anthology called 'Kitab-ul-Aghani,' or the Book of Songs. Jarir and Al-Farazdak were two very celebrated poets, who lived at the same time and died in the same year, A.D. 728-729. Ibn Khallikan has given their lives at considerable length, and says that 'Jarir was in the habit of making satires on Al-Farazdak, who retorted in the same manner, and they composed parodies on each other's poems.' Jarir always used to say that the same demon inspired them both, and consequently each knew what the other would say. On all occasions they seem to have been excessively rude in verse to each other, and did not at all mind about having recourse to actual insult. The lives of Al-Akhtal, Al-Farazdak, and Jarir, translated from the 'Kitab-ul-Aghani' and other sources, have been given by Mr. Caussin de Perceval in the _Journal Asiatique_ for the year 1834. Prom this it would appear that the verses of these three poets were much discussed during their lifetime, and often compared with the productions of the other poets who followed them. Some writers are in favour of one and some of the other, but the general opinion of them is that their effusions resembled the Arab poetry written before the period of Muhammad much more than any poetry that was written during the reign of the Abbasides. Al-Akhtal belonged to a Christian tribe of Arabs, and was much patronized by the Omaiyide Khalif Abdul Malik (A.D. 684-705), in whose glory and honour he composed many verses, and, indeed, such good ones, that Harun-ar-Rashid used to say no poet had ever said so much in praise of the Abbasides as he (Akhtal) had written in praise of the Omaiyides. He died at an advanced age some years before Jarir and Farazdak, who were much younger men, but the exact year of his death does not appear to have been recorded. The blind Bashshar bin Burd and Abul-Atahya were two of the principal poets who flourished in the first ages of Islamism, and ranked in the highest class among the versifiers of that period. The former was put to death, or rather beaten, by the orders of the Khalif Al-Mahdi, for certain satirical verses which the poet is said to have written, and from the effects of these strokes of a whip he died in A.D. 783. Abul-Atahya wrote many verses on ascetic subjects, and all his amatory pieces were composed in honour and praise of Otba, a female slave belonging to the Khalif Al-Mahdi, and to whom he appears to have been devotedly attached. He was born A.D. 747, and died A.D. 826. Abu Nuwas was a poet of great celebrity. His father, Hani, was a soldier in the army of Marwan II., the last Omaiyide Khalif, and the poet was born in A.D. 762, some say in Damascus, others at Busra, and others at Al-Ahwaz. His mother apprenticed him to a grocer, and the boy became acquainted with the poet Abu Osâma, who discovered his talent, and induced him to accompany him to Baghdad. There Abu Nuwas afterwards became celebrated as one of the chief bards at the court of the Khalif, and his most famous Kasida is that which he composed in praise of Amin, the son of Harun-ar-Rashid. According to the critics of his time, he was the greatest poet in Islam, as Amriolkais had been before that period. When Merzeban was asked which he considered the greater poet, Abu Nuwas or Rakashi, he replied, 'A curse of Abu Nuwas in hell contains more poetry than a laudation of Rakâshi's in paradise.' He was a favourite of Amin, whom his brother Mamun reproached for associating with him, because Abu Nuwas enjoyed the reputation of being the greatest libertine of all the poets. Sulaiman, the son of Al-Mansur, complained to the Khalif Amin that Abu Nuwas had insulted him with lampoons, and desired him to be punished with death; but Amin replied: 'Dear uncle, how can I order a man to be killed who has praised me in such beautiful verses?' and thereupon recited them. Mamun, the son of Harun, states that he asked the great critic Yakut bin Sikkit to what poet he gave the preference. He replied: 'Among the pre-Islamite ones to Amriolkais and Al-Aasha, among the older Muslim poets to Jarir and Farazdak, and among the more recent to Abu Nuwas.' Otbi, having been asked who was the greatest poet, replied; 'According to the opinion of the people, Amriolkais, but according to mine, Abu Nuwas.' Al-Khasib, the chief of the revenue office in Egypt, once asked Abu Nuwas from what family he came. 'My talents,' replied he, 'stand me instead of noble birth,' and no further questions were asked him. He was a freethinker, who joked about the precepts of Islam. Once a Sunni and a Rafidhi desired him to be the umpire in their quarrel, as to who occupied the most exalted position after the Prophet. He said: 'A certain Yazid,' and on their asking who this Yazid might be, he replied: 'An excellent fellow, who presents me with a thousand dirhems every year.' He used to say that the wine of this world is better than that of the next; and, being asked for the reason, replied: 'This is a sample of the wine of paradise, and for a sample the best is always taken.' Ismail bin Nubakht said: 'I never saw a man of more extensive learning than Abu Nuwas, nor one who, with a memory so richly furnished, possessed so few books. After his decease we searched his house, and could only find one book-cover containing a quire of paper, in which was a collection of rare expressions and grammatical observations.' He died on the same day as the mystic Al-Kerkhi, whose corpse was accompanied to the grave by more than three hundred persons, but that of Abu Nuwas by not one. When, however, one of the three hundred exclaimed: 'Was not Abu Nuwas a Muslim? And why do none of the Muslims recite the funeral prayer over his body? all the three hundred who had assisted at the interment of Kerkhi recited the prayer also over the corpse of Abu Nuwas. He is considered to have been an equally good narrator, scholar, and poet; and, being asked by Sulaiman bin Sehl what species of poetry he thought to be the best, replied: 'There are no poems on wine equal to my own, and to my amatory compositions all others must yield,' He used to boast that he knew by heart the poems of sixty poetesses, and among them those of Khansa and Leila, as also seven hundred Arjuzat, or poems in unshackled metre, by men. He said that he could compose nothing except when he was in a good humour, and in a shady garden. He often began a Kasida, put it away for several days, and then took it up again to rescind much of it. According to Abu Amr, the three greatest poets in the description of wine are Aasha, Akhtal, and Abu Nuwas. Abu Hatim al Mekki often said that the deep meanings of thoughts were concealed underground until Abu Nuwas dug them out. His end was tragic. Zonbor, the secretary, and Abu Nuwas were in the habit of composing lampoons against each other; whereon the former conceived the idea of propagating a satire against Ali, the son-in-law of the Prophet, in the name of Abu Nuwas; and this became the cause of his death. In an already half-drunken circle Zonbor recited the satire on Ali as the work of Abu Nuwas; on which all fell upon the poet, ripped open his belly, and pulled his entrails about till he expired. Others assert that Ismail bin Abu Sehl administered a poisonous potion to Abu Nuwas, because he had composed a lampoon against him; but its operation was so slow that he died only four months after he had drunk it. His death took place at Baghdad in A.D. 810. Al-Otbi was a poet of great celebrity, and taught traditions to the people of Baghdad; but was more generally noted for drinking wine and composing love verses about his beloved Otba. Being of the tribe of Koraish, and of the family of Omaya, he and his father held a high rank, and were regarded as accomplished scholars and elegant speakers, Otbi both composed and collected poems. One of his verses has now acquired the force of a proverb: 'When Sulaima saw me turn my eyes away--and I turn my glances away from all who resemble her--she said: "I once saw thee mad with love;" and I replied: "Youth is a madness of which old age is the cure."' He died in A.D. 842. Abu Tammam Habib, the celebrated poet, according to Ibn Khallikan, 'surpassed all his contemporaries in the purity of his style, the merit of his poetry, and his excellent manner of treating a subject. He is the author of a Hamasa, a compilation which is a standing proof of his great talents, solid information, and good taste in making a selection.' He wrote several other works connected with poets and poetry, composed many Kasidas, and knew by heart, it is said, fourteen thousand verses of that class of compositions called Rajaz, or free metre. The poetry of Abu Tammam was put in order for the first time by Abu Bakr as Sauli, who arranged it alphabetically, according to the rhymes, and then Abul Faraj Ali bin Husain Al-Ispahani classed it according to the subjects. He died at Mosul A.D. 845, about forty years of age, and was buried there; but his verses have survived, and rendered him one of the immortals. The mantle of the poet Abu Tammam appears to have fallen on Abu Abada Al-Bohtori, who was born in A.D. 821, and, like his predecessor, is also the author of a Hamasa. He appears to have received his first encouragement to persevere as a poet from Abu Tammam, and later on he says: 'I recited to Abu Tammam a poem which I had composed in honour of one of the Humaid family, and by which I gained a large sum of money. When I finished he exclaimed: "Very good! You shall be the prince of poets when I am no more." These words gave me more pleasure than all the wealth which I had collected.' On being asked whether he or Abu Tammam was the better poet, Al-Bohtori replied: 'His best pieces surpass the best of mine, and my worst are better than the worst of his,' Abul-Ala al Maarri, a great philologist and poet (born in A.D. 973, died A.D. 1057), was asked which was the best poet of the three, Abu Tammam, Al-Bohtori, or Al-Mutanabbi; he replied that two of them were moralists, and that Bohtori was the poet. He died A.D. 897. His poems were not arranged in order till Abu Bakr as Sauli collected them and classed them alphabetically by their rhymes, while Abul Faraj Ali bin Husain Al-Ispahani collected them also, and arranged them according to their subjects. A copy of his 'Diwan' is in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. Al Mutanabbi, or the pretended prophet, a _rôle_ to which he aspired, but in which he did not succeed, comes next to the two great poets--Abu Tammam and Al-Bohtori--though some critics consider him to be superior to them. He is, however, generally acknowledged to be a great lyric poet, while many of his best Kasidas refer to the exploits of Saif ad Dawlah, a prince of the Benou Hamdan dynasty in Syria. After leaving him he went to Egypt, then to Persia, Baghdad, and finally Kufa, his native place, near which he was killed in a fight in A.D. 965. It is stated that in this contest Mutanabbi, seeing himself vanquished, was taking to flight, when his slave said to him, 'Let it never be said that you fled from a fight, you who are the author of this verse: "The horse, and the night, and the desert know me (well); the sword also, and the lance, and paper and the pen."' Upon this he turned back and fought till he was slain, along with his son and his slave. His 'Diwan,' or collection of poems, is well known, and much read in our times, even in India. It has been translated into German. An-Nami was one of the ablest and most talented poets of his time, but inferior to Mutanabbi, with whom he had some encounters and contests in reciting extemporary verses when they were at the court of Saif ad Dawlah together. He died A.D. 1008 at Aleppo, aged ninety. Abul-Abbas Al-Mofadhdhal, the collector of the celebrated selection of Arabic poems called the 'Mofadhdhaliat,' which served as a model for the Hamasas, was the first editor of the seven suspended poems, the Mua'llakat, and also one of the earliest of the Arab philologists. He was a native of Kufa, and adhered to the faction of Ibrahim bin Abdallah; who rebelled in A.D. 761 against Al-Mansur, the second Abbaside Khalif. Al-Mansur, however, pardoned Al-Mofadhdhal, and attached him to the household of his son, Al-Mahdi, by whose orders Mofadhdhal made a collection of the most celebrated longer poems of the Arabs, one hundred and twenty-eight in number, under the title of the Mofadhdhaliat. This, the oldest anthology of Arabian poets, was first commented upon by his disciple, Al-Aarabi; then two hundred years later by the two great philologists and anthologists, Al-Anbari and An-Nahas; by Merzuk; and lastly by Tibrizi, who is sufficiently known in Europe as the editor and commentator of the Hamasa, published by Freytag with a Latin translation. Mofadhdhal supported himself as a copyist of the Koran, and spent the last portion of his life in mosques doing penance for the satires which he had composed against various individuals. His other works were a book of proverbs, a treatise on prosody, another on the ideas usually expressed in poetry, and a vocabulary. He was held to be of the first authority as a philologist, a genealogist, and a relator of the poems and battle-lays of the desert Arabs. He died A.D. 784. Abul Faraj Ali bin Husain Al-Ispahani is the collector of the great anthology called 'Kitab-ul-Aghani' (the Book of Songs). This work, which surpasses all former ones of this name, he produced after a labour of forty years, and presented it to Saif ad Dawlah, who gave him a thousand pieces of gold for it, but excused himself at the same time for the smallness of this honorarium. In spite of his other works, and the long string of names given him by Ibn Khallikan, he is best known as Al-Ispahani, and as the author of the Aghani. His family inhabited Ispahan, but he passed his early youth in Baghdad, and became the most distinguished scholar and most eminent author of that city. He was born A.D. 897, and died A.D. 967, in which year also died the great scholar Kali, and the three greatest of his patrons, namely, Saif ad Dawlah, the sovereign of the Benou Hamdan in Syria; Moiz ud Dawlah, the sovereign of the Benou Bujeh in Irak; and Kafur, who governed Egypt in the name of the Akhsid dynasty. The 'Book of Songs,' notwithstanding its title, is an important biographical dictionary, treating of grammar, history and science, as well as of poetry. Mention can here be made of Abu Muhammad Kassim Al-Hariri, who was one of the ablest writers of his time, and the author of the 'Makâmat Hariri,' a work consisting of fifty oratorical, poetical, moral, encomiastic and satirical discourses, supposed to have been spoken or read in public assemblies. Poets, historians, grammarians and lexicographers look upon the 'Makâmat' (Assemblies or Séances) as the highest authority, and next to the Koran, as far at least as language is concerned. It contains a large portion of the language spoken by the Arabs of the desert, such as its idioms, its proverbs, and its subtle delicacies of expression; and, according to Ibn Khallikan, any person who acquires a sufficient acquaintance with this book to understand it rightly, will be led to acknowledge the eminent merit of the author, his extensive information, and his vast abilities. A great number of persons have commented on the 'Makâmat,' some in long and others in short treatises, and many consider it to be the most elegantly written, and the most amusing, work in the Arabic language. Hariri was born A.D. 1054, and died at Busra A.D. 1122. He left some other good works in the shape of treatises, epistles, and a great number of poetical pieces, besides those contained in his 'Makâmat.' There are two translations of the 'Makâmat' into English. One by the Reverend Theodore Preston, printed under the patronage of the Oriental Translation Fund, London, 1850. It contains only twenty of the fifty pieces in verse, with copious notes, while an epitome of the remaining thirty pieces is given at the end of the book. The other by the late Mr. Chennery, which ends with the twenty-sixth assembly or séance. The whole work was edited in Arabic, with a select commentary upon it in French, by Baron Silvestre de Sacy, and this was reprinted in 1847. Ruckert also made a very free translation of it in German verse, which reached a third edition in 1844, but this differs widely from the contents of the original, though it is said to be more pleasing and attractive to a general reader. After the Muslim legal sciences had been established upon the fourfold foundations of the Koran, tradition, general consent of communities, and the analogies derived therefrom, then philosophy and mathematics began to flourish by translations made either directly from the Greek or through Syriac and Persian. In former times, during the reign of Nausherwan, a Persian monarch of great renown (A.D. 530-578), there was some intercourse between Persian and Byzantine philosophers; several books on logic and medicine had been translated from Greek into Persian, and from these Abdullah Ibn Al-Mukaffa made translations into Arabic. The literary career of Ibn Al-Mukaffa, who presumed to vie with the eloquence of the Koran, and was considered to be a freethinker, and eventually slain, falls into the reign of Al-Mansur (A.D. 754-775), the second Khalif. But Ibn Al-Mukaffa rendered such services to Arabian literature, that a short sketch of his life will presently be given. During the reign of Mansur (A.D. 754-775) Greek works were translated, not yet from the original, but from the Persian. During the Khalifate of his son, Mahdi (A.D. 775-785), Abd-Allah bin Hilal translated the celebrated animal fables of Bidpay from Persian into Arabic, under the title of 'Kalilah wa Dimnah,' and they were afterwards versified by Selil bin Nubakht. In Persian they are known under several titles, such as 'Kalilah wa Dimnah,' the 'Anwar-i Suheli,' and the 'Ayar Danish,' and in Turkish as the 'Humayan-namah.' Eight years before the seventh Khalif, Mamun (A.D. 812-833), ascended the throne, many Greek and Syrian manuscripts had been collected in Baghdad. These were all preserved there in the library, which was called 'The House of Wisdom,' until Mamun began to utilize them by means of translations. The Khalif appointed the scholars Al-Hajjaj, Ibn Máttar, Ibn ul-Batrik, and Selma, to superintend the work, while the three brothers, Muhammad, Ahmed, and Hasan, sons of the astronomer Shakir, were directed to search for and to buy manuscripts. Mamun also sent the two physicians, Yohanna and Kosta, into the Byzantine dominions to bring manuscripts from thence to Baghdad. A new class of scholars was then formed, in the shape of translators, who were employed in translating works from the Greek, the Syriac, and the Persian languages into Arabic. The translators from the Persian were Musa and Yusuf, the two sons of Khalid, Hasan bin Sehl, and afterwards, Al-Baladori; from the Sanscrit, Munkah the Indian; from the Nabataean, Ibn Wahshiyah. Science became hereditary, as it were, in the families of the most celebrated scholars; medical science in the family of Bakhtyeshun; translations from Greek works in that of Honein bin Ishak, the most famous of all translators, and a prolific author besides. Maseweih and his son Yahya, Syriac Christians, were both celebrated as physicians and translators of ancient Greek works into Arabic; while Kosta bin Luka, who died in A.D. 932, was also one of the most fertile translators from Greek into Arabic, and, being born a Greek, he was able to correct the translations of Honein bin Ishak and others. The number of translators, which amounted to about one hundred, might have been increased if Arab literature had further developed itself by incorporating works from other languages; but, as such was not the case, translators appeared very few and far between after the literature had attained to its highest perfection, at the end of the third century of the Hijrah (A.D. 913). The celebrated Ibn Al-Mukaffa was one of the earliest and best translators. His full name is Abd-Allah Ibn Al-Mukaffa, but before he made his profession of Islam he bore that of Ruzbeh. He was a native of Har, a town in the province of Fars, and first served as secretary to Daud bin Hobeirah, and then to Isa bin Ali, the uncle of the two first Khalifs of the house of Abbas. He was an excellent poet, letter-writer, and orator, equally skilled in his mother-tongue, the Persian, as in the Arabic language, from the former of which he left the splendid translations of-- (1) 'The Khodanamah,' a legend. (2) 'The Amirnamah,' or prince-book. (3) 'Kalilah wa Dimnah.' (4) 'Merdak.' (5) 'Biography of Nausherwan.' (6) 'The Great Book of Manners.' (7) 'The Small Book of Manners or Good Habits.' (8) 'The Book of Epistles.' So far the 'Fihrist'; what follows is from Ibn Khallikan. Ibn Al-Mukaffa was the secretary and most confidential servant of Isa bin Ali, with whom he dined the day before he made his public profession of Islam. Having sat down, he began to eat and to mutter according to the custom of the Magians. 'How,' said Isa, 'you mutter like the Magians, though resolved to embrace Islamism!' to which Ibn Al-Mukaffa replied that he did not wish to pass a single night without being of some religion. In spite of his conversion, he was always suspected of freethinking, like Muti bin Iyas and Yahya bin Zaad, and one day, when Al-Jahiz, the philologist, made the remark that they were persons the sincerity of whose religious sentiments was doubted, one of the learned, on hearing this, said: 'How is it that Al-Jahiz forgets to count himself?' When Khalil the prosodist was one day asked his opinion about Ibn Al-Mukaffa, he said, 'His learning is greater than his wit;' and the latter, being asked the same question concerning Khalil, replied, 'His wit is greater than his learning.' Being a favourite with the Khalif, he took great liberties with Sofyan, the Governor of Busra, and insulted the memory of his mother. One day Sulaiman and Isa, the uncles of the Khalif Mansur, desired to obtain a letter of amnesty from him for their brother Abd-Allah, and they instructed Ibn Al-Mukaffa to compose one in the strongest terms, which he did, and added to it the following clause, 'Should the Prince of the Believers ever act treacherously towards his uncle Abd-Allah, then may he be divorced from his wives, may his slaves be free, and may his subjects be solved from obedience!' The Khalif's dignity was shocked, and he ordered the writer of this letter of amnesty to be forthwith executed, and the Governor of Busra, whom Ibn Al-Mukaffa had many times insulted, very gladly undertook the duty. Al-Madaini narrates that when Ibn Al-Mukaffa was brought before Sofyan, the latter asked him whether he remembered the insults he had heaped upon his mother, and added, 'May my mother really deserve those insults if I do not get you executed in a manner hitherto unheard of!' He also recalled Ibn Al-Mukaffa's joke about Sofyan's big nose, because he had one day asked the governor, 'How are you and your nose?' On another occasion, when the governor remarked that he never had reason to repent keeping silence, Ibn Al-Mukaffa replied, 'Dumbness becomes you; then why should you repent of it.' Accordingly Sofyan ordered the members of Ibn Al-Mukaffa's body to be chopped off, one after the other, and thrown into a burning oven, into which, last of all, the trunk of his body was also thrown. There are other accounts of his death, viz., that he was strangled in a bath, or shut up in a privy. One opinion, however, generally prevails, that the execution was not a public one. The date of it is uncertain--A.D. 756, 759, and 760, are all given; but the victim was only thirty-six years of age at the time. A few remarks may be made about the support given to learning and men of letters by the Omaiyide and Abbaside Khalifs, as also by those of the Spanish or Western Khalifate. The Omaiyide Khalifs, with their capital at Damascus, were generally patrons of science, poetry, architecture, song, and music. But all these branches of knowledge were at that time merely rudimental; and, of the fourteen sovereigns of the dynasty, only five really deserve the name of protectors of learning; and of these Abdul Malik (A.D. 684-705), and his son Walid I. (A.D. 705-715), were the most distinguished. During the period of their Khalifate there were not only male, but also some female poets. All their poems are mostly short, and confined to amatory, laudatory, or vituperative compositions, called forth by the momentary circumstances in which the authors happened to be placed. These pieces do not represent either deep thought or profound wisdom, but they show the feelings of the people, and their state of civilization at the time in question. During this Khalifate were also produced the earliest germs of stylistics, epistolography and mysticism, all of which were more fully developed under the Abbasides. The originator of the first two was the Katib Abd Al-Hamid, secretary to the last Omaiyide Khalif, and he is designated in an old Arabic rhyme as 'the father of all secretaries.' Epistolary writing, it was said, began with Abd Al-Hamid, and finished with Ibn Al-Amid. As regards mysticism, the origin of its doctrines is sometimes assigned to Oweis Al-Kareni, the Prophet's companion, who disappeared mysteriously in A.D. 658. But mysticism and Sufism were subsequently much developed by Muhi-uddin Muhammad, surnamed Ibn Al-Arabi, a most voluminous writer on these subjects. He was born at Murcia, in Spain, A.D. 1165, and after studying in that country, went to the East, made the pilgrimage, visited Cairo and other cities, and died at Damascus A.D. 1240. He is the author of many works, but the most remarkable of them are 'Revelations obtained at Mecca' and 'Maxims of Wisdom set as Jewels.' Both Makkari the historian, and Von Hammer Purgstall, in his history of Arabian literature from the earliest times, give a long account of him. Of the Khalifs of the house of Abbas, the second, third, fifth and seventh, viz., Al-Mansur (A.D. 754-775), Al-Mahdi (A.D. 775-785), Harun-ar-Rashid (A.D. 786-809), and Al-Mamun (A.D. 812-833) were the most distinguished as patrons of art, science and literature. But after the translation of the 'Arabian Nights' into European languages, the name of Harun-ar-Rashid became the best known in Europe as the representative of the most brilliant period of the Eastern Khalifate, and as the great protector of Arabic literature. Baghdad, the capital of the Abbasides, was founded by their second Khalif, Al-Mansur, in A.D. 760, finished in four years, and raised to a high degree of splendour by Harun-ar-Rashid. Originally it was considered only as a great strategic point, and its garrisons were to keep the surrounding country in subjection. Eventually it became the centre of learning and civilization, and an Arab author wrote of it as follows: 'Baghdad is certainly the capital of the world, and the mine of every excellence. It is the city whose inhabitants have always been the first to unfurl the banners of knowledge, and to raise the standard of science; indeed, their subtlety in all branches of learning, their gentle manners and amiable disposition, noble bearing, acuteness, wit, penetration and talent are deservedly praised.' Baghdad, at the beginning of the ninth century of the Christian era, was the centre of all that was grand and brilliant in the Muhammadan world. Art and commerce, literature and science, were cultivated to a high degree, and the luxury and extravagance of court life exceeded almost the imagination of temperate European minds. Everything curious, romantic and wonderful, narrated in the 'Nights' is connected with Harun-ar-Rashid's name, or supposed to have happened in his reign. Thus, his vizier, Jaafar, the Barmekide, the superintendent of his harem, Mesrur, and his spouse, Zobeida, were first made known to novel-readers, and their importance as historical personages were duly appreciated afterwards, when Erpenius, Pococke, Herbelot, and Reiske elucidated the history of the Khalifate by translating the works of the Arab chroniclers Abul-Faraj, Al-Makin, and Abul-feda. Later on still further information was made public about the translations made from Greek and Syriac into Arabic during his reign, as also concerning his position, not only as a lover of tales, but as a promoter of jurisprudence, a patron of the medical and mathematical sciences, and a builder of magnificent and useful edifices. His court was also well attended by poets and singers. Harun was not, indeed, the first prince who made arrangements for translations from the Greek and the Syriac. In this he had been preceded, as already mentioned, by the Omaiyide prince, Khalid, the alchemist. But during the reign of Harun the business of translation was carried on to a much greater extent than it was under his predecessors, the Khalifs Mansur and Mahdi, during whose time translations were undertaken from Greek into Syriac, from Indian (Sanscrit) into Persian, but not yet into Arabic. The translators were mostly Christians and Jews. Theophilos of Edessa, the Maronite translator of Homer and of other Greek classics into Syriac, was an astronomer and an historian. Both he and the physician Georgios, son of Bakhtyeshun, from the university of Jondshapur, were Christians. Nubakht, the astronomer of the Khalif Mansur, was a Magian (Zoroastrian), Yahya bin Maseweih, Harun's physician, translated medical works. Hajaj bin Yusuf bin Matta dedicated his first edition of the elements of Euclid to Harun, and the second to Mamun. As the family of the Barmekides played an important part, not only in politics, but also in literature, until its chief members were annihilated by Harun's orders, a brief notice of them may here be given. Khalid bin Barmek was the son of a priest at the fire temple of Nevbehar in Balkh, and became in course of time vizier of the first Abbaside Khalif, and was retained in that office by the second Khalif, Al-Mansur, and by the third, Al-Mahdi. He died A.D. 780. Yahya, the son of Khalid, not only himself became the vizier of Harun, but also his two sons, Fadhl and Jaafar. Yahya was very liberal, and gave away sometimes considerable sums of money for very small services, or, indeed, for no service at all. After his son Jaafar had been executed, Yahya was thrown into prison, along with his other son, Fadhl, at Old Rakka, where he died in A.D. 805, at the age of seventy or seventy-four. Fadhl, the son of Yahya, was more liberal but less eloquent than his brother Jaafar. Harun esteemed the two brothers so highly that he entrusted his son Muhammad to the care of Fadhl, and his son Mamun to the care of Jaafar. Afterwards he made Jaafar his vizier, and sent Fadhl to be Governor of Khurasan. There Fadhl built mosques, reservoirs of water and caravanserais, augmented the army, and attracted numbers of emigrants to the country, whereby he gained the approval of Harun, who ordered his poets to sing his praises. After the execution of Jaafar, Harun took Yahya, with his son Fadhl and all the Barmekides, to Rakka, giving Yahya the option to go where he liked; but he preferred to be imprisoned with his son in Rakka. There Fadhl died in A.D. 809, and when Harun was informed of his death, he said: 'My own is not far,' and died a few months afterwards in Tus, the modern Mashad. The death of Fadhl, as a generous patron, was bewailed by several poets, such as Abul Hojna, Otbi, Abu Nuwas, and others. Fadhl was also notable for his filial piety, and when the use of cold water injured the health of his father whilst they were in prison, he used to warm the water by placing a pot of it on his own stomach. Jaafar (the brother of Fadhl and a son of Yahya), who was slain A.D. 802, is to be mentioned here, not for his tragic fate, which is well known, but rather for his literary attainments, especially his oratory and his style, in both of which he excelled. From his long biography, written by Ibn Khallikan, there will be given here only some extracts relating to science and literature. He was a great master of speech, and expressed his thoughts with much elegance. In one night he endorsed more than a thousand petitions addressed to the Khalif with his decisions, all of which were in perfect concordance with the law. His instructor in jurisprudence had been Abu Yusuf the Hanifite, whom his father Yahya had appointed to teach him. The favour enjoyed by Jaafar with Harun-ar-Rashid was so great that this Khalif caused one robe to be made with two separate collars, which they both wore at the same time. Ibn Khallikan narrates the traditions relating to the fall of Jaafar and his family; the one refers to his amours with Abbasa, the sister of Harun, and to the birth of a child; the other to the escape of a member of Ali's family entrusted to Jaafar's guardianship by Harun. The true cause was probably the Khalifs envy of the power, wealth, and generosity of the Barmekides, along with the backbitings of their enemies. Jaafar was slain at Al-Omr in the district of Al-Anbar, his head and the trunk of his body were set up opposite to each other on the two sides of the bridge of Baghdad, and his death was lamented by various poets. After Mamun (A.D. 812-833) the most intellectual Khalif appears to have been Radhi-billah (A.D. 934-940). His poems were collected in a Diwan. He was the last Khalif who presided not only over the Government as a sovereign, but also over the pulpit as Imam; indeed, he may be said to be the terminal point of the power, brilliancy and independence of the house of Abbas, which henceforth gradually declined till its final extinction with the conquest of Baghdad by the Mughals in A.D. 1258. The great chess-player, Abu-bakr as Sauli, bears witness, in Masudi's 'Meadows of Gold,' to the great accomplishments of Radhi-billah, and to his love of the sciences. Of games, chess and nerd[4] flourished during his reign, and although the perfection of song and of lute-playing had already passed away, singers and musicians are still mentioned. Of the amusements of the court, hunting appears to have flourished most, and the learned poet Koshajim, who wrote on the game of nerd, also left instructive poems on the chase. Radhi-billah appears to have been fond of books of travel and of natural history, and of the society of men of letters and of science, and liked listening to recitals on the history, politics, and glory of the old Persian kings. [Footnote 4: Nerd.--This game is mentioned as early as the Shah-Namah, the author of which, Firdausi, was of opinion that it is of genuine Persian, and not of Indian origin, like chess, but this assertion is not necessarily correct. Hyde has described the game in his 'Historia Nerdiludii,' and it resembles somewhat the German puff and triktrak, and the English backgammon. It is played on a board divided into black-and-white compartments, with a black and a white house in the centre. The moves are made according to the numbers that come up on the throw of two dice.] Of the Spanish Khalifs, mention only will be made of the ninth sovereign of the Benou Omaiyide dynasty in Andalusia, viz., Hakim II., who died A.D. 976. Among the five Arab rulers of Spain--viz., three Abd-ar-Rahmans and two Hakims--who have acquired everlasting fame in history as special friends of science and patrons of learned men, Abd-ar-Rahman III. and Hakim II. are the greatest and most prominent. They stand in the Arab literary history of the West as high as Harun and his son Mamun do in the history of the literature of the East. As Mamun was the greatest of the Benou Abbas Khalifs of Baghdad who promoted science and art, so Hakim II. was the greatest of the Benou Omaiyides in Cordova. From his earliest youth he had received a most careful scientific education, and applied his energies to study, as he could not devote them to public affairs on account of the long duration of his father's reign, from A.D. 912 to 961. Hakim's father, Abd-ar-Rahman III., invited the learned Abu Ali Ismail Al Kali, the philologist and author, from the court of Baghdad, where he enjoyed the greatest consideration with the Khalif Mutwakkil, to Cordova, and entrusted him with the education of his son, who, later on, composed a Diwan (collection of poems), divided into twenty parts, bearing, like the Surahs, or Chapters of the Koran, the most sublime objects of nature as titles, such as 'Heaven,' 'the Stars,' 'the Dawn,' 'the Night,' etc. Hakim pursued his studies under Kali for twenty years, with as much pleasure as advantage, and after ascending the throne, science and art still remained his companions. When his father died, and he assumed the Government, he led the funeral procession, surrounded by his Andalusian, Slavonic, and Mograbin body-guard, and interred the corpse with the greatest pomp in the mausoleum of Rozafa, and after that accepted the homage of his Viziers, Amirs, Kayids, and Kadis. Astrologers and poets heralded at Cordova and in the whole of Andalusia the continuation of the father's prosperous reign by his son, and spoke the truth this time. Hakim, who had already as a youth been fond of books, now, when he became sovereign, fully satisfied this predilection, which had grown to be a passion. He spared neither trouble nor expense in collecting in his Merwan palace the rarest and most costly books in every branch of science from all countries. He sent special commissioners to Egypt, Syria, Irak, and Persia to purchase books. At Baghdad, Muhammad bin Turkhan was charged with the business of purchasing books, or getting them copied, for which purpose he had an establishment of calligraphers and stenographers; because of some books beautiful, and of others rapidly made, copies were required. He procured all the genealogies, all the histories, and all the poems of the Arabs; all works on law and jurisprudence, on grammar, rhetoric, philosophy, philology, mathematics, astronomy, arithmetic and geography, composed in Arabic. Thus the library of the Merwan palace became not only the richest in Islam, but also the best arranged, by the care which he bestowed on it. The catalogue consisted of forty-four fascicles, each of fifty leaves, so that the whole constituted a volume of two thousand two hundred leaves, two-fifths of which were filled with titles of poetical works only. In this catalogue the titles of the books were inserted, with the names of their authors, their descent, birth-place, the year of their birth and of their decease, in the most accurate manner, to serve as a model for other libraries, of which Spain contained so many. This library alone is said to have consisted of six hundred thousand volumes, a number never surpassed by any earlier or later libraries in Islam. To his two brothers, who loved the sciences as ardently as himself, Hakim entrusted the care of the libraries, and of public instruction, appointing Abdul Latif to be the chief librarian, and another man to be the director of studies. He kept up intercourse with the great scholars of the East and of the West, with sundry persons in Syria, with learned men in Egypt, and with Abul Faraj Al-Ispahani (author of the great anthology 'Kitab-ul-Aghani') in Irak, giving houses and salaries to those who chose to reside at his court. A few words must be said about the establishment of places of learning which were celebrated at the time. The first university, in the sense in which such an institution is at present understood, was flourishing in Syria long before any seat of learning of this kind had been established in Europe; and there was another in Egypt. The first institution was called 'The Society of the Brethren of Purity,' and the second (opened at Cairo on the 24th May, A.D. 1005) was founded by Al-Hakim-bramrillah, and bore the name of Dar-ul Hikinat, or Abode of Wisdom. It was under this same name that the library of the Khalifs was formerly known at Baghdad. Later on the great vizier Nizam-ul-Mulk founded a high school at Baghdad, in A.D. 1066. It was not the first that had been established in Islam, but it eclipsed all others of the kind by the abilities of the professors who worked there, viz., the Imam Abu Ishak Shirazi, Al-Ghazali, and others. With the Society of the Brethren of Purity, mentioned above, there were two men closely connected, viz., Al-Tavhidi, who died A.D. 985, and Al-Majridi, who died A.D. 1004, the former in the East, the latter in the West, and both of them are deserving of the general name of philosopher. So much for the Eastern Khalifates. As regards the Western Khalifate, still greater attention was paid to education and learning there. The schools and lectures were attended by many Europeans, who were not, perhaps, sufficiently grateful to the Arabs for keeping up a progress in literature and science while Europe itself was struggling for emancipation from the dark ages which followed the higher cultures of Greece and of Rome. THIRD PERIOD. From the fall of Baghdad, in A.D. 1258, to the present time. The conquest of Baghdad by the Mughals is a most remarkable period, not only in the literature, but also in the history, of the Arabs. It marks the final extinction of the Abbaside dynasty, from whom the ancient power and glory had vanished to such a degree that the authority of the Khalifs may almost literally be said to have been confined to the city only. Halaku Khan, the brother of the grand Khan Kubilai, and grandson of Jenghiz Khan, took and sacked Baghdad, keeping the Khalif imprisoned for some time, but slaying him at last, with his sons and several thousand Abbasides. Al-Mustaa'sim was the thirty-seventh and last Khalif of the house of Abbas, which had reigned over five hundred years, and was now extinguished. Halaku Khan attacked Baghdad by the advice of Khojah Nasir-uddin Tusy, the great Persian astronomer and mathematician. Nasir-uddin had entered the service of the last prince of the Assassins only for the purpose of avenging himself on the Khalif, who had disparaged one of his works. When, however, he became aware of Halaku's power, he not only betrayed his new master to him, but led the Mughal conqueror also to Baghdad. After the burning of the library at Alamut (the stronghold of the Assassins, where they kept their literary treasures) and the sacking of Baghdad by Halaku Khan, the erection of the astronomical observatory at Maragha, under the direction of Nasir-uddin Tusy, was the first sign that Arab civilization and the cultivation of science had not been entirely extinguished by Tartar barbarism. The learned viziers who stood by the side of the conqueror, such as the two brothers Juvaini, were Persians, and therefore hardly belong to the history of Arab literature. But the fact that one of these two historians now wrote 'The Heart Opener,' also implies that the invasion of the barbarians had not quite put an end to literary activity. More than ten historians flourished at the beginning of this period whose names terminated with 'din,' such as Baha-uddin, Imad-uddin, Kamal-uddin, etc., and they were contemporaries of the Arab Plutarch Ibn Khallikan, already mentioned and described in the preceding period. The 'Alfiyya,' or Quintessence of Arab Grammar, was written in verse by Jamal-uddin Abu Abdallah Muhammad, known under the name of Ibn Malik. The author died in A.D. 1273-1274; but his work has lived, and it is looked upon as a good exponent of the system. The Arab text has been published, with a commentary upon it in French, by Silvestre de Sacy, A.D. 1834. During the eighth century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1301-1398), there lived three distinguished men, one famed as a geographer and traveller, and the other two as historians, viz., Ibn Batuta, Abul Feda, and Ibn Khaldun. The first-named left his native town, Tangiers, in A.D. 1324, and travelled all over the East, performing his pilgrimage to Mecca in A.D. 1332. The travels of Ibn Batuta were translated by the Rev. S. Lee, and published by the Oriental Translation Fund, as their first work, in A.D. 1829. This traveller has been noticed by Kosegarten in a Latin treatise, and his travels have been also translated into French, with the Arabic text above, by C. Defremery and R. Sanguinetti, at the expense of the French Government (1874-1879). Abul Feda Ismail Hamawi is well known as an historian, and is frequently mentioned by Gibbon as one of his authorities. He wrote an account of the regions beyond the Oxus, and also an abridgment of universal history down to his own time, and as he is supposed to be very exact, and his style elegant, his works are very much esteemed. He died A.D. 1345, having succeeded his brother Ahmad as King of Hamat in Syria, A.D. 1342. Ibn Khaldun, the African philosopher, was born in Tunis, A.D. 1332, and passed his youth in Egypt. He served a short time as Chief Justice at Damascus, and returned to Egypt, where he became Supreme Judge, and died there A.D. 1406. His principal and most remarkable work is the 'History of the Arabs, the Persians, and the Berbers.' During the ninth century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1398-1495) Arabian literature can still boast of a few great names. Ibn-Hajar was not only the continuator of Ibn Kesir's universal history, called 'The Beginning and the End,' but also the author of biographies of celebrated men who had lived during the preceding century, and of other works besides. He died A.D. 1449. Ibn Arabshah was the writer of a history of Timour, or Tamerlane, which has some celebrity, and has been translated into Latin and French. He was a native of Damascus, and died there A.D. 1450. Majr-uddin Muhammad Bin Yakub, surnamed Firuzabadi, a learned Persian, was the author of the largest and most celebrated Arabic dictionary in existence at the time, called the 'Qânûs,' or Ocean, a standard work to this day, and always greatly praised, and also used by European lexicographers. Taki-uddin, of Fez, composed the best history of Mekka, and A'ini, who died A.D. 1451, wrote two celebrated historical works. But the greatest historian of this time was Al-Makrisi, whose proper name was Taki-uddin Ahmad, and who was born at Makris, near Baalbec, in A.D. 1366. He early devoted himself to the study of history, geography, astrology, etc., at Cairo, and his Egyptian history and topography is still an important work, describing the state of the country and its rulers. He died at Cairo, A.D. 1442. Some of his works have been translated into French and Latin, and are still referred to. In honour of Sayuti, that colossus of learning, who cultivated, according to the spirit of his times, so many sciences, and dealt with them practically, this might be called the poly-historical and poly-geographical period. Julal-uddin Sayuti is said to be the author of some four hundred works, and he died in A.D. 1505, some twelve years before the conquest of Egypt by Selim I, the Sultan of Turkey, when independent Arab literature under Arab sovereigns came to an end. It is true enough that not only in Egypt and Syria, but also in Turkey and Persia, Arabic books were written afterwards, but more under foreign protection, although in the two first-named countries Arabic is the language of the people, while in the last two it occupies nearly the same position that Latin does in European universities and in the Roman Catholic Church. In the tenth century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1495-1592) the generally prevalent belief that the world would, at the completion of it, come to an end, contributed much to the gradual decay of science and literature. The case is somewhat analogous to the superstition in Europe some six hundred years previously, when the Christian era attained its millennium, which was considered to carry with it the same catastrophe. This prophecy, believed to be true, contributed in some measure to slacken authority as well as exertion, and the power of Islamitic countries really sank; but this might have been predicted without any prophetic foresight. In one part of Islam, the ruin of Muhammadan countries thus prophesied was accomplished twenty-one years before the end of the thousandth year, that is in the 979th year of the Hijrah, A.D. 1571, by the total expulsion of the Moors from Spain. Granada itself had succumbed already, seventy-nine years before, and the unwieldy palace of the kings, of Spain (still unfinished) had risen by the side of the lofty arcades of the Alhambra, still a lovely specimen of Moorish artistic design and architecture. The tenth century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1495-1592), which was the first of the decay of Arab literature, is to be considered as the period when the political importance of Turkey culminated in the reign of Sulaiman the Law-giver. There were, however, four authors of celebrity who wrote both in Arabic and in Turkish. Ibn Kamal Pasha, the surname of Mufti Shams-uddin Ahmad bin-Sulaiman, who died A.D. 1534, wrote on history in Turkish, and on law in Arabic; the Mufti Abu Sa'ud acquired great renown by his numerous Fetwas (legal decisions), approving of the political institutions of Sulaiman; Ibrahim of Aleppo is the author of the 'Molteka' (Confluence of Two Seas), which embodies the essence of Muslim law, according to the Hanifi ritual; and lastly, Birgeli, otherwise known as Mulla Muhammad Ibn Pir Ali ul-Birkali, was equally great as a dogmatist and as a grammarian. He wrote in Arabic 'The Unique Pearl; or, The Art of Reading the Koran,' and died A.D. 1573. Special mention, too, must be made of Mulla Ahmad Bin Mustafa, the celebrated Arabian, whom Haji-Khalfa always calls by the more euphonious name of Abul-Khair (Father of Wisdom). This author is worthy of notice, on account of the Arabic works he wrote on biographical, historical, and especially encyclopædic subjects. His 'Key of Felicity' will remain for ever the best encyclopædia of Arabian sciences, representing as it does their division among the Arabs, with notices of the works of scholars in every branch of them in a most compact and comprehensive manner. He died A.D. 1560. The three most celebrated calligraphers of this century were Hamdallah, who died A.D. 1518; Mir Ali, who died A.D. 1544; and Muhammad Hussain Tabrizi, who died A.D. 1574. Their names are just as celebrated for Thuluth and Talik writing as were formerly those of Ibn Bawwab, of Ibn Hilal, and of Yakut are for Naskhi. In Egypt and Syria the characters used were always more beautiful than those of Andalusia, which survived in the Mugrib (North of Africa). Here, perhaps, it may be stated that the art of Arabic writing came into existence but a very short time before Muhammad. 'It was Abu Ali bin Mukla who first took the present system of written characters from the style of writing employed by the people of Kufa, and brought it out under its actual form. He had, therefore, the merit of priority, and it may be added that his handwriting was very elegant. But to Ibn Al Bawwab pertains the honour of rendering the character more regular and simple, and of clothing it in grace and beauty.' In other words, Ibn Mukla was the first who changed the Kufic into the new Naskhi character, which Ibn Bawwab improved after him by imparting rotundity and clearness to the new letters, and which Ibn Yakut Al-Mausili brought afterwards to the greatest perfection in A.D. 1200. Ibn Mukla, who was born in A.D. 885, and died A.D. 941, was vizier to the Khalifs Al-Kahir-billah and Al-Radhi-billah; but, falling into disfavour through the intrigues of his enemies, he first had his hand cut off in A.D. 937, and eventually his tongue was torn out, and he was allowed to perish in the dungeon without any assistance being offered to him. Ibn-al-Bawwab, the Penman, is said to have possessed a skill in penmanship to which no other person ever attained in ancient or modern times. He died at Baghdad A.D. 1032, and the following verses were composed as his elegy: 'Thy loss was felt by the writers of former times, And each successive day justifies their grief. The ink-bottles are therefore black with sorrow, And the pens are rent through affliction.' During the eleventh century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1592-1689) there lived Mustafa bin Abdullah Katib Jelaby, otherwise known as Haji Khalfa, and commonly called Mustafa Haji Khalfa, a man of science as a Turkish historian and geographer, but an Arabic encyclopædist and bibliographer. He was the compiler of a work containing many thousands of titles of Arab, Persian, and Turkish books, with the names of their authors. Fluegel edited this great work under the title of 'Lexicon Enciclopædicum et Bibliographicum,' with a Latin translation in seven bulky volumes, and it is an extremely valuable work of reference, put together with the most astonishing and persevering care, and consulted by all who desire information on Arabic, Persian, and Turkish literature. This was printed by the Oriental Translation Fund between A.D. 1835 and 1850, and will always remain as one of the most valuable works printed by that most useful society, whose extinction must ever be regretted by all Orientalists and persons interested in Oriental literature. Haji Khalfa wrote another interesting work, giving a detailed account of the maritime wars of the Turks in the Mediterranean and Black Sea and on the Danube, which has been translated by Mr. James Mitchell. The date of Haji Khalfa's death is uncertain. He is known to have been alive in A.D. 1622, and still in 1652, and he is supposed to have died in A.D. 1657. The works of Abul Khair, previously mentioned, and of Haji Khalfa, embody a mass of information, and constitute the top of the pyramid of encyclopædical and biographical works, after which nothing worthy of mention has been written on these subjects. The basis of this pyramid had been already laid by An-Nadim, the author of the 'Fihrist,' who flourished A.D. 987, and by Ibn Khallikan, who died A.D. 1282. During this century (A.D. 1592-1689) of the most sanguinary wars, revolutions and dethronements, the condition of Arab literature in the Ottoman Empire was neither progressive nor satisfactory. Nevertheless, the study of the sciences, and especially the linguistic and juridical branches of them, were fostered not only in Constantinople, but also in Syria and Egypt, in consequence of the institution of the body of Ulema, established by Muhammad II., the Conqueror (A.D. 1451-1481), and improved by Sulaiman I., the Law-giver (A.D. 1520-1566), which sheltered the cultivation of science from the storms of war within the inviolable precincts of religion. Mention may be made of Muhammad-Al-Amin, the learned philologist and lawyer of Damascus, who was born in that town about the middle of the eleventh and died the beginning of the twelfth century of the Hijrah, and produced a dozen respectable works, the principal of which bears the title of 'The Biographies of the Celebrated Men of the Eleventh Century,' A.H. He gives an account of a couple of hundred scholars, who represented in Egypt and in Syria the last rays of the setting sun of Arabian literature. Next to Muhammad-Al-Amin another author of about a dozen works is to be noticed, namely, Ahmad-Al Makkari, whose principal work was a history of the Muhammadan dynasties in Spain, which was translated from the copies in the library of the British Museum, and illustrated with critical notes on Spanish history, geography and antiquities, by Pascual de Gayangos, and printed for the Oriental Translation Fund of Great Britain and Ireland in A.D. 1840-43. Makkari also wrote a history of Fez and Morocco, as well as an account of Damascus. He died at Cairo A.D. 1631. Besides some historians, grammarians, philologists and poets, the eleventh century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1592-1689) produced in Syria and Egypt even astronomers and physicians, who distinguished themselves as scholars. Of writers of light literature Khafaji may be named as the chief. He composed a Diwan of ardent love poems, with two anthologies, containing specimens of verses from a couple of poets, his contemporaries. He died A.D. 1658. A few more writers might be mentioned; but their efforts strongly mark the decline of Arabic literature in the East, the cultivation of which, however, was henceforth more energetically pursued in Europe, where many works have been printed and translated. With the twelfth century of the Hijrah (A.D. 1689-1786) the history of original Arab literature may be said to have terminated, and its genius to have disappeared. A revival, however, of Arabian learning is taking place in Egypt, Syria, and North Africa, but in accordance with European models, and chiefly under European auspices. All original research has long been extinct, even among those populations whose vernacular is the Arabic language; and consequently it is the former, and not the present state of Arab literature, which is the most interesting to the people of to-day. The presses of Constantinople, Cairo, Algiers, Beyruth, and some other places, reproduce old Arabic works of value, but more translations from European languages than original compositions are printed and lithographed. From Bombay, where more than fifty presses are at work, large quantities of books are exported to countries beyond the British possessions. These books treat generally of religion, poetry, history, or medicine; but as they deal more with ancient than with modern knowledge, they do not tend to propagate progress. But though Arab literature has decayed, the faith of Islam is still active and energetic. It is estimated that one hundred and eighty millions of human beings still follow the precepts of the Prophet, and daily turn their faces to Mecca, which for them has been, and still is, the cradle of their faith, the touchstone of their religion, and the idol of their hearts. CHAPTER III. ABOUT MUHAMMAD. A manual of Arabian history and literature would hardly be complete unless some special mention of Muhammad was introduced. As previously stated, his Koran forms the basis of the literary edifice of Arab literature, while he himself undoubtedly holds the first place in Arab history. As the author and founder of a new religion, which both during his lifetime and after his death was accepted with a marvellous rapidity, and is still being accepted in various parts of Africa, it must be admitted that he was an extraordinary person. At the beginning of what may be called his inspired life at Mecca, he stood forth as a reformer, preacher, and apostle. But, though full of enthusiasm and belief in the great cause that he advocated, he was, without doubt, from the commencement to the end of his career, a practical man of business, which Buddha and Jesus certainly were not. The life of Muhammad has been written in many languages, and with such voluminous details, that it is hardly necessary to enter into these details very minutely here. Sir William Muir's works on the subject are graphic, descriptive, and full of interesting matter, while a lengthy article on the subject of Muhammad and Muhammadism, in the third volume of the 'Dictionary of Christian Biography,' from the pen of the late Rev. G.P. Badger, is one of extraordinary interest. A perusal of the above-named works, with Hughes's 'Dictionary of Islam' as a reference book, will give the ordinary English reader as much information as is likely to be required in the ordinary course of things. But by way of preface to certain remarks upon Muhammad as a reformer, preacher, and apostle at Mecca, as pope and king at Madinah, as author of the Koran, founder of a religion, legislator, military leader, and organizer of the Arabs into a nation, it is perhaps necessary to give a rapid summary of the principal events of a life which has had such an influence upon so many people, and which has filled so many pages. This summary will be as brief as possible: His birth, August, A.D. 570, at Mecca, his father having died some months previously. His christening by the name of Muhammad, _i.e._, the Praised One. His grandfather Abdul-Muttalib, who gave him the name, said it was given to him 'in the hope that his grandson would be praised by God in heaven, and by God's creatures on earth.' His bringing up in the desert of the Benou-Saad by a Badawin nurse, one Halimah, the wife of Harith, for five years. His mother Aminah took him, aged six, to Madinah to present him to his maternal relations there. She died on the return journey, A.D. 576. Under the guardianship of his grandfather Abdul Muttalib (who loved him dearly) for two years, from six to eight, when Abdul died, A.D. 578. Under the guardianship of his uncle Abu Thaleb, the uterine brother of his father, Abd-Allah. When about twelve years old, Muhammad accompanied his uncle, Abu Thaleb, into Syria on a mercantile expedition. His first visit to that country, and his experiences there, A.D. 582. His presence, during the sacrilegious war, at a battle between certain tribes at or near Okatz, where he assisted his uncle, who took part in the fight. His attendance at sundry preachings and poetical and eloquent recitations at Okatz, where it is said he imbibed the first lessons of the art of poetry and the power of rhetoric, and also acquired certain religious sentiments. His life as a shepherd in the neighbourhood of Mecca, and the ideas that such a lonely life, face to face with nature, would perhaps inspire. His acquisition of the title of Al-Amin, the Trustworthy. His second visit to Syria, when twenty-five years old (A.D. 595), on a mercantile expedition, as agent to the widow Khadijah, and his acquisition of religious impressions there. His successful business, and his marriage on his return to Khadijah, fifteen years his senior in age, A.D. 595. Six children born to Muhammad by Khadijah, most of whom died young. The rebuilding of the Kaabah in A.D. 605, in which Muhammad accidentally takes a prominent part. His solitary contemplations and studies, from the age of twenty-five to forty, at Mecca, and in the cave on Mount Hira near Mecca. Here it is important to bear in mind the foregoing experiences in the life of Muhammad as we approach the period of his alleged revelations. There can be no doubt that by this time he had acquired, as well through his own observation and inquiry, as through intimate converse with Bara-kah, reputed the most learned Arab of the age, considerable acquaintance with the dogmas of Judaism and Christianity; that he had some knowledge of the Bible, the Talmud, and the Gospels; that he was thoroughly versed in Arab legendary lore, and that, being gifted with a ready flow of speech, an ardent imagination, together with a bold, enterprising spirit, he was well equipped for carrying out that grand social and religious revolution among his countrymen which he contemplated. His yearnings after religious truth and his first poetic productions. His mental depressions. His first inspirations from the angel Gabriel, A.D. 610. His account of his visions to his wife, who became the first convert to al-Islam, or the creed of Muhammad. His next converts were Ali, his adopted son and cousin; Zaid-bin-Harithah, also an adopted son; Warakah; and Abdul-Kaabah-bin-Kuhafah, one of the most influential and learned men of Mecca, on conversion named Abd Allah, and afterwards called Abu Bakr, 'The Father of the Virgin,' 'The Companion of the Cave,' 'The Second of the Two,' 'The True,' 'The Sighing,' etc., and who eventually became the first Khalifah, or Successor. Other conversions followed; viz., Saad, Zobeir, Talha; Othman bin Affan, the third Khalifah, or Successor, after Abu Bakr and Omar; Abdar-Rahman, and several more. The injunctions of Muhammad to his converts were then as follows: 'The duty of believing in one God; in a future reward reserved for the righteous in another life, and a future punishment for the wicked; of acknowledging himself as the Apostle of God, and of obeying him as such; of practising ablution; of offering up prayer according to certain specified rules.' These, he said, did not constitute a new religion, but merely restored the ancient religion of Abraham to its pristine purity. His teachings, he maintained, were revelations conveyed to him by Gabriel, and he simply repeated what the angel communicated to him. His assumption of the title of Apostle of God, in whose name he now spoke, A.D. 610. His frequent revelations for three years, and the commencement of his public preaching to the Koraish, who would not listen, but regarded him as a half-witted poet. His denouncement of idolatry, and the consequent persecutions of himself and his followers by the Koraish. Conversions in the house of Arcam, afterwards styled the House of Islam. The first emigration to Abyssinia of some of his followers by his advice, and their speedy return, A.D. 615. The lapse of Muhammad and his idolatrous concession, but afterwards disowned and disavowed. The second emigration to Abyssinia, A.D. 615-616. The conversion of Hamzah and Omar and thirty-nine adherents of the latter--a great event, A.D. 615-616. The Koraish try to come to terms with Muhammad, but fail. The prohibition of all intercourse with Muhammad and his followers by order of the Koraish, and a general persecution. The excommunication of Muhammad and of the descendants of Hisham and Muttalib, which lasted more than three years, A.D. 617-620. The death of Muhammad's first wife, Khadijah, in December, A.D. 619, and of his uncle, Abu Thaleb, in January, 620. His critical position. He seeks an asylum at Taif, but not being well received, returns to Mecca, remaining there in comparative retirement. His marriage, A.D. 620, with Saudah-bint-Zamaah, the widow of one Sukran, and his betrothal to Ayesha, the daughter of Abu Bakr, then only eight years old. The first meeting at the Pilgrimage of a party from Yathrib (Madinah), to whom Muhammad expounds his doctrines. The listeners profess their belief in him, and propose to advocate his cause in their native place. March, A.D. 620. The conference at Akabah, a hill on the north side of Mecca, with the men of certain tribes resident at Yathrib, who took an oath to be faithful to Muhammad and his religion. This is called 'the first pledge of Akabah.' April, A.D. 621. The despatch of Musaab, a Meccan disciple, to Yathrib, for the purpose of giving instruction in the Koran and in the rites of the new religion. The Night of the Ladder, or the miraculous journey first from Mecca to Jerusalem upon the beast called al-Burak, and then the ascent from Jerusalem to heaven, under the guidance of Gabriel, and what he saw there. Apparently a dream or vision, A.D. 621. Second meeting at Akabah, called 'the second pledge of Akabah,' and engagements ratified. March, A.D. 622. Distrust of the Koraish. Proposal to kill Muhammad, who had advised his followers to flee to Yathrib. April and May, A.D. 622. In June, A.D. 622, Muhammad himself secretly leaves Mecca with Abu Bakr. They first go to a cave in Mount Thur, about three miles to the south of Mecca, and reach Yathrib (henceforward to be called Al Madinah, 'The City' _par excellence_) a few days afterwards. On his way there, at Kuba, a village two miles to the south of Madinah, Muhammad laid the foundation of a mosque called 'The Fear of God.' This was the first temple raised by Islam. Enthusiastic reception at Madinah, a charter drawn up, and Muhammad assumes the reins of both spiritual and temporal sovereignty. His family arrives from Mecca. He completes his house and mosque at Madinah, and draws up a bond of union between the Ansars, or auxiliaries, of Madinah and the Al Muhajirun, or emigrants from Mecca, who were the first to embrace Islam. Marriage with Ayesha consummated, January, A.D. 623. Marriage of Fatimah, Muhammad's daughter, to Ali bin Abu Thaleb, the adopted son and cousin of Muhammad, June, A.D. 623. The call to prayer; the Kiblah, or place to which the face was turned in prayer, changed from Jerusalem to Mecca; the fast of Ramadhan, and the tithe, or poor rate, instituted. Friday appointed as the day for public service in the mosque. Commencement of hostilities with the people of Mecca, the first blood shed, and the first booty taken by the Muslim. Battle of Badr, or Bedr--a victory. January, A.D. 624. A Surah, or chapter, issued about 'The Spoils,' how to be divided, which now forms Chapter VIII. of the Koran. Commencement of disputes with the Jews, and the exile of the Benou Kainuka, a Jewish tribe settled at Madinah, to Syria. Assassination of certain Jews. Marriage of Muhammad to Hafsah, the daughter of Omar, on the death of her husband Khunais, December, A.D. 624. His fourth wife. Defeat at Ohud, January, A.D. 625. Further military expeditions. The exile of the Benou Nadhir, another Jewish tribe residing near Madinah. Muhammad marries a fifth wife, Zaineb-bint-Khuzaimah, the widow of Obaidah, slain at Badr. January, A.D. 626. Further hostilities with Arab tribes. Muhammad marries his sixth wife, Omm-Salamah, widow of Abu Salamah, February, A.D. 626. Further warlike expeditions. Muhammad marries his seventh wife, Zainab bint Jahsh, purposely divorced by his freedman and adopted son Zaid bin Harithah, so that she might marry the Prophet. June, A.D. 626. Further military expeditions. Muhammad marries his eighth wife, Juwairiyyah-bint Harith, who survived him forty-five years. December, A.D. 626. Ayesha, the favourite wife, and the daughter of Abu Bakr, accused of adultery, but eventually acquitted by a Divine revelation. Siege of Madinah, February and March, A.D. 627. Massacre of the Benou Koreitza, a Jewish tribe near Madinah. Muhammad takes Rohana, the beautiful Jewess, as a concubine. Several minor expeditious. An intended pilgrimage to Mecca, but Muhammad, with his followers, do not go further than Al-Hodeibiah. A truce made with the Koraish for ten years, and permission given to Muhammad to visit the Kaabah the next year, for three days only. March, A.D. 628. Letters sent by Muhammad to foreign sovereigns and princes, inviting them to embrace Islam; but these met with a moderate success only. Expedition against the Jews of Khaibar, and its complete success. August, A.D. 628. Marriage of Muhammad with Safiyyah, the bride of Kinanah, his ninth wife, August, A.D. 628. He partakes of a poisoned kid, dressed and offered to him by a woman named Zeinab. His marriage with Omm Habiba, widow of Obaid Allah, and daughter of Abu Sofyan, October, A.D. 628. His tenth wife. He takes Mary, the Coptic maid, as a concubine, sent to him by Jarih bin Mutta, the Governor of Egypt. There were now nine wives and two concubines living in the harem of the Prophet. Several small expeditions. Despatch of further letters to foreign potentates and princes. His pilgrimage to Mecca for three days, as previously stipulated, and known as the 'Solemn visit of the Fulfilment.' February, A.D. 629. His marriage with Maimunah bint Harith, his eleventh and last wife. Further important conversions at Mecca, such as Othman bin Talha, the guardian of the Kaabah; Amru, or Amr bin al-Aasi, a man renowned for sagacity, and who, during the Khalifate of Omar, conquered Egypt; and Khalid bin Walid, whose exploits obtained for him the title of 'The Sword of God.' This last was the most talented general of the Muslims. Several military excursions. Battle at Muta with certain Syrian tribes subject to the Roman authorities, September, A.D. 629. A defeat. Further military expeditions. Expedition against Mecca, and its complete success. Destruction of pictures, images, and idols at Mecca and the surrounding districts. January, 630. Expedition against the Benou Thakif at Taif, and their allies the Benou Huwazin, and the battle of Honein, February, A.D. 630. Siege of Taif, and its abandonment, followed later by the submission of Malik, the chief of the Benou Thakif, and the greater part of the tribe. Muhammad performs the Lesser Pilgrimage and returns to Madinah. The birth of a son by his Coptic slave and concubine Mary, April, A.D. 630. The boy, named Ibrahim, lived only about a year. Quarrel with his legitimate wives about Mary, the Coptic slave, whom he had freed after the birth of the child. Arrival of a Christian deputation at Madinah, and their discussions without conversion on either side. The Christians designated Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and the Second Person in the Trinity. Muhammad denied this, quoting the following from the Koran: 'Jesus, the son of Mary, is only an apostle of God, and His word, which He conveyed into Mary, and a spirit proceeding from Himself. Believe, therefore, in God and His apostle, and say not three. Forbear; it will be better for you. God is only one God. Far be it from His glory that He should have a son.' Deputations from certain Arab tribes. Several lesser expeditions. Campaign of Tabuk, which ended without fighting, and the submission of many tribes, October, A.D. 630. Definite establishment of the Muslim Empire, A.D. 631. Expedition of Ali to Yaman, December, A.D. 631. Muhammad's solemn and greater pilgrimage to Mecca, i.e. 'the Al-Hijj,' or the Greater Pilgrimage, as compared with 'the Umrah,' or Lesser Pilgrimage. March, A.D. 632. His speeches at this pilgrimage, known in Muhammadan history as 'The pilgrimage of the announcement,' or 'The pilgrimage of Islam,' or 'The farewell pilgrimage.' His establishment of the lunar year, and his farewell addresses. Indisposition of Muhammad, and the three revolts--one headed by Tulaihah bin Khuwailid, a famous warrior of Najd; one by Musailamah; and one by Al-Aswad, all of which were eventually completely crushed after Muhammad's death by Abu Bakr and his generals. Another expedition to Syria projected. Muhammad's health becomes worse. His retirement to Ayesha's apartment. His final discourses. Abu Bakr appointed to lead the public prayers. Muhammad's last appearance in the mosque at Madinah. His death and burial, June, A.D. 632. From the above summary of the principal events of Muhammad's life, it will be perceived that up to the age of forty he was a student and acquirer of knowledge, much alone and occupied with his thoughts. At forty-one he began his public ministry, and stood forth as a reformer, preacher, and apostle at Mecca, and this continued till he finally left that place, in June, A.D. 622. As a reformer he proposed to do away with idols, to suppress gambling and drinking, and to abolish female infanticide, at that time much practised by the Arabs. As a preacher and apostle he urged the people to accept the belief in one God, whose injunctions were communicated to him by Gabriel for the benefit of the humanities. Prayer and ablution were also then ordained; fasting, almsgiving, and pilgrimages were instituted later on. Before Muhammad's time there had been several earnest seekers after the one God, the God of Abraham. Of these persons Zaid, the Inquirer, may be mentioned, as also Warakah, a cousin of Muhammad's first wife, Khadijah; Othman bin Huwairith, and Obaid Allah bin Jahsh. The people who professed this theism were termed Hanyfs; but their state of mind was as yet a purely speculative one, and they had announced nothing definite. But the ground was so far laid open, and had been prepared to a certain extent for Muhammad and his express revelation, that 'There was no God but the God, and that Muhammad was His apostle.' It is highly probable that when Muhammad first began his public exhortations he had a strong idea of bringing not only the Arabs, but also the Jews and Christians, into his fold, and establishing one universal faith on the basis of one God, Almighty, Eternal, Merciful, Compassionate. It was on this account that he made Jerusalem the Kiblah, or consecrated direction of worship, and introduced into the Suras, or chapters, that he issued from time to time a good deal of matter connected with our Old and New Testaments. He particularly mentioned Abraham as the Father of the Faith, and acknowledging that there had already existed many thousand prophets, and three hundred and fifteen apostles, or messengers, he quoted nine of these last as special messengers, viz., Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Job, David, Jesus, the son of Mary, and himself. To five of these he gave special titles. He called Noah the preacher of God; Abraham the friend of God; Moses the converser with God; Jesus the spirit of God; and himself the apostle, or messenger, of God. But of the nine above mentioned four only, viz., Moses, David, Jesus, and Muhammad, held the highest rank as prophet-apostles. It would, therefore, appear that Muhammad really hoped to establish one religion, acknowledging one God and a future life, and admitting that the earlier prophets had emanated from God as apostles or messengers. The world was too young and too ignorant in Muhammad's time to accept such an idea. It may, however, be accepted some day, when knowledge overcomes prejudice. Nations may have different habits, manners, and customs, but the God they all worship is one and the same. Muhammad's life, from the age of forty to fifty, was one long struggle with the Koraish. Had it not been for the support given him by some of his influential relations at Mecca, he would either have been killed, or compelled to leave the place before he did. It is true that during these twelve years he made some excellent converts and faithful followers; but still it must be regarded as an historical fact that Muhammad failed at Mecca, as Jesus had failed at Jerusalem. In the one case Jesus was sacrificed, and passed away, leaving the story of His life, His words and His works in the heads of His disciples, who, with the suddenly converted Paul, certain Alexandrian Jews, the Emperor Constantine, some literary remains of Plato, along with a destruction of adverse manuscripts and documents, finally established the Christian religion. In the other case Muhammad, failing at Mecca, succeeded at Madinah, and before his death had so far settled matters that the religion was fairly established, and was thus saved the severe and bitter struggles of the first centuries of the Christian Churches. It has seldom been a matter of speculation as to what would have been the course of the world's history if Muhammad had been slain by the Koraish before he left Mecca, or if Jesus had not been crucified by the Jews. It is probable that in the end both religions would have been eventually established in other ways, and by other means, depending a good deal on the followers of the two men. But as the subject is purely speculative, it can hardly be entertained in this purely historical chapter. Once at Madinah, Muhammad became a personage. Supported by his Meccan followers (al-Muhâjirûn), and the Madinese auxiliaries (Ansârs), he assumed immediately a spiritual and temporal authority, and became a sort of Pope-King. He kept that position for the rest of his life, improving it by his military successes, his diplomatic arrangements, his spiritual instructions, and his social legislation. It was probably shortly before he went to Madinah, or very soon after his arrival there, that he gave up all ideas of bringing over Jews, Christians, and Sabæans to his views. He determined to adapt them to the manners and customs of the Arabs only. In this he showed his wisdom and his knowledge of business. He changed the Kiblah from Jerusalem to Mecca. In the place of the Jewish trumpet, or the Christian bell, he introduced the call to prayer still heard from the tapering minarets of every mosque throughout the Muhammadan world. By the Christian world it has been sometimes considered that Muhammad was good and virtuous at Mecca, but vicious and wicked at Madinah. Such calls to mind the reply of an Indian youth when asked in an examination to give an outline of the character of our good Queen Elizabeth. He briefly described her as 'a great and virtuous princess, but in her old age she became dissolute, and had a lover called Essex.' But the position of Muhammad at Madinah was entirely different to what it had been at Mecca. At the latter place he was unable to assert himself. Indeed, it was as much as he could do to keep himself and his followers going at all, constantly subject as they were to persecution from the Koraish. All this was changed at Madinah, and his ten years rule there was remarkable for his various military expeditions, his organization of the different tribes, his bitter persecution of the Jews, his still-continued inspired utterances, which now included spiritual, social, and legal matters, and his repeated marriages. It has been frequently said that Muhammad, in his virtuous days, was content with one wife at Mecca, but in his vicious days at Madinah he had ten wives and two concubines. As a matter of fact, after Khadijah's death Muhammad's marriages were in most cases more or less a matter of business. By them he allied himself to Abu Bakr, Omar, Abu Sofyan, Khalid bin Walid, and other important persons. He further married the widows of some of his followers killed in battle, perhaps 'pour encourager les autres.' It is also probable that he was very anxious to have children, all of his having died except Fatima, who was married to Ali. At the same time it must be admitted that Muhammad had a weakness for women in his later years--witness the case of Zainab bint Jahsh, the Jewish concubine Rohana, and the Coptic maid Mary. Indeed, his favourite wife Ayesha used to say of him: 'The Prophet loved three things--women, scents, and food; he had his heart's desire of the two first, but not of the last,' The reasons for this want of food, and many other traditions connected with the character of Muhammad, are to be found in the last chapter and the supplement at the end of Sir William Muir's most excellent and interesting work on the life of this extraordinary man, who, if author of the Koran only, would be entitled to rank among the immortals. According to Muslim orthodox theology, the Koran is the inspired Word of God, uncreated, and eternal in its original essence. 'He who says the word of God is created is an infidel,' such is the decree of Muhamniadan doctrine. Leaving everybody to form their own opinion on such a matter, it is only necessary here briefly to allude to the work, and to suppose that Muhammad was the inspired author of it. The Koran is divided into 114 suras, or chapters, and 6,666 verses. The word itself signifies reading or recitation, and Muhammad always asserted that he only recited what had been repeated to him. But the Koran represents Muhammad from many points of view, in different capacities, and under different necessities. Ayesha, his favourite wife, when asked in later years as a widow to relate something about the Prophet, replied: 'Have you not the Koran, and have you not read it? for that will tell you everything about him.' The Koran was not collected or arranged until after Muhammad's death. It is to be regretted that there is no reliable record of the exact order in which its various verses and chapters were given to the world by the Prophet, as that would have given us a great insight into the working of his mind from the time that he began his first recitals up to the time of his death. It is true that attempts have been made to formulate the order of delivery, but these can only be more or less conjecture. At the same time, though earlier and later verses appear mixed up in the different chapters, in some cases, of course, the period to which they belong can be pretty accurately fixed and determined. As an interesting work, it can hardly be compared with our Old and New Testaments, nor would it be fair to make such a comparison. It must be remembered that the Koran is the work of Muhammad alone, while the Biblos, or Book, commonly called the Bible, is the work of many men. In its compilation many authors were rejected, and it represents as a whole the united talents of the ages. Indeed, the Bible may be considered as the most wonderful book in existence, and certainly the most interesting after visiting the countries it describes and the localities it refers to. If read from a matter-of-fact point of view, it gives an abundance of various kinds of literature, and describes the workings of the human mind from the earliest ages, and the progress of ideas as they gradually and slowly dawned upon man and drove him onwards. If read from a spiritual or mystical point of view, it can be interpreted in many ways to meet the views of either the readers or the hearers. In a word, the Bible is full of prose and poetry, fact and imagination, history and fiction. It was lately described in an Italian newspaper, _Il Secolo_, about to issue a popular edition of it in halfpenny numbers, as follows: 'There is one book which gathers up the poetry and the science of humanity, and that book is the Bible; and with this book no other work in any literature can be compared. It is a book that Newton read continually, that Cromwell carried at his saddle, and that Voltaire kept always on his study table. It is a book that believers and unbelievers should alike study, and that ought to be found in every house.' As a scientific work it has little value except that it represents the extent of scientific knowledge possessed by the authors at the time the different books were written. To return to the Koran, which may, then, be regarded as the Bible of the Muslims. According to Mr. Badger: 'It embodies the utterances of the Arabian Prophet on all subjects, religious and moral, administrative and judicial, political and diplomatic, from the outset to the close of his career, together with a complete code of laws for regulating marriage, divorce, guardianship of orphans, bargains, wills, evidence, usury, and the intercourse of private and domestic life, as they were dictated by him to his secretaries, and by them committed to writing on palm-leaves, the shoulder-blades of sheep, and other tablets. These, it appears, were thrown pell-mell into chests, where they remained till the reign of Abu Bakr, the immediate successor of Muhammad, who, during the first year of his Khalifate, entrusted Zaid-bin Harithah, an Ansar, or auxiliary, and one of the amanuenses of the Prophet, with the task of collecting them together, which he did, as well from "the breasts of men" as from the afore-named materials, meaning thereby that he availed himself of the memories of those who had committed parts of the Prophet's utterances to memory. [Tradition states that one of the contemporary Muslims had learnt as many as seventy chapters by heart.] Zaid's copy continued to be the standard text during the Khalifate of Abu Bakr, who committed it to the keeping of Hafsah, one of Muhammad's widows. Certain disputes having arisen regarding this text, owing mainly to the variations of dialect and punctuation occurring therein, Omar, the successor of Abu Bakr, in the tenth year of his Khalifate, determined to establish a text which should be the sole standard, and delegated to Zaid, with whom he associated several eminent Arab scholars of the Al-Koraish, the task of its reduction. On its completion copies were forwarded to the principal stations of the empire, and all previously existing copies were submitted to the flames. This is the text now in general use among Muslims, and there is every reason to believe it to be a faithful rescript of the original fragmentary collection, amended only in its dialectical variations, and made conformable to the purer Arabic of the Al-Koraish, in which the contents of the Koran were announced by Muhammad.' From a literary point of view the Koran is regarded as a specimen of the purest Arabic, and written in half poetry and half prose. It has been said that in some cases grammarians have adapted their rules to agree with certain phrases and expressions used in it, and that though several attempts have been made to produce a work equal to it, as far as elegant writing is concerned, none have as yet succeeded. With the Koran, then, as a basis to work upon, Muhammad became the author and, it may be said, also founder of the Muhammadan faith, although as regards the foundation of any religion the followers of the author are generally the real founders of his faith. Of the three authors of great religions, viz., Moses, Buddha, and Jesus, who had gone before, Moses seems to have had much in common with Muhammad, and the two resembled each other in some ways. Buddha and Jesus were, on the other hand, entirely spiritualistic, their ideas on many subjects much the same, and their preachings and teachings run together very much on parallel lines. The connecting links, however, between Buddhism and Christianity, if any, have yet to be discovered and determined. It may happen that some day further light may be thrown upon the subject; but at present, in spite of similarity of ideas, of sentiments, and of parables in the two religions, there is no positive proof of any connection between them, except that one preceded the other. While history has recorded every detail of Muhammad's life, both before and after his public ministry, which did not begin until he was forty years of age, history, alas! gives us no detailed record of the life of Jesus prior to the commencement of His public ministry in His thirtieth year. Had He travelled Himself to the further East? Had He studied under Buddhist missionaries? Had He taken the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, before He was baptized by John the Essene? Had He anything to do with the sects called Essenes, Therapeuts, Gnostics, Nazarites, the Brethren, which existed both before and during His lifetime? These, and many other questions which might be asked, can now probably never be answered, and the only thing that can be confidently asserted is that the character and the spiritual teachings of Christ, as handed down to us, much resemble the character and spiritual teachings of Buddha. A few paragraphs must be devoted to Moses and Muhammad, as the first organizers of the Jews and the Arabs into separate and distinct nationalities. The two men had very different material to work upon, but they succeeded with the aid of Eloah, or Allah, supporting their own efforts. It is probably historically true that the good old patriarch Abraham once lived, and may be considered to be the father of the Jewish, Christian, and Muhammadan religions. According to Arab tradition, Abraham, assisted by Ishmael, built the Kaabah at Mecca, so called because it was nearly a kaabah, or square. Anyhow, Abraham has ever been regarded with the greatest veneration by the Muslims, and his tomb at Hebron at the present day is so jealously guarded by them that the Jews and the Christians are not permitted to enter its sacred precincts. Abraham and his followers worshipped Eloah, or the Almighty God, as the one and only God, offering up to Him at times various sacrifices. According to Rénan, in his 'History of the People of Israel,' 'the primitive religion of Israel was the worship of the Elohim, a collective name for the invisible forces that govern the world, and which are vaguely conceived as forming a supreme power at once single and manifold.' 'This vague primitive monotheism got modified during the migrations of the children of Israel, and especially during their struggles for the conquest of Palestine, and at last gave place to the conception of Jahveh, a national God conceived after the fashion of the gods of polytheism, essentially anthropomorphic, the God of Israel in conflict with the gods of the surrounding nations.' 'It was the task of the prophets to change this low and narrow conception of the Deity for a nobler one, to bring back the Jews to the Elohistic idea in a spiritualized form, and to transform the Jahveh or Jehovah of the times of the Judges into a God of all the earth--universal, one and absolute, that God in spirit and in truth of whom Jesus, the last of the prophets, completed the revelation.' Certain events in the life of Joseph brought the family of Jacob to Egypt, separated it from the other tribes, and made the Israelites into a peculiar people.[5] As the twelve families of the sons of Jacob expanded into twelve tribes, they grew in number to such an extent that the Egyptian Government of the day began to be alarmed, and commenced coercive proceedings, which led to the appearance of Moses, first as a liberator, and then as the organizer of the twelve tribes into a Jewish nationality. [Footnote 5: The actual dates of these events and of the exodus from Egypt have not yet been historically fixed. How the Israelites first migrated to the land of Goshen, and how they eventually left Egypt, is still a question of considerable controversy. Further discoveries may yet throw further light on the subject.] When Moses first took the children of Israel out of Egypt, it was probably his intention to lead them at once to the promised land. Finding, however, that their physical strength and courage was not equal to the conquest of Canaan, he kept them in the desert for forty years, until the open-air life and the hardy fare had produced a new generation of men fit to cope with the warriors of the land they were about to attempt to conquer. Doubtless, during this residence in the desert Moses legislated both morally and socially for the Jews, as Muhammad did for the Arabs at Madinah. But as the Koran was not put together during Muhammad's lifetime, so it is also highly probable that the Pentateuch, or five books of Moses, were not collected and collated till some time after his death, which last is described in the work itself.[6] Indeed, many things mentioned in them show a more advanced state of civilization than the children of Israel enjoyed during their wanderings in the desert. [Footnote 6: This subject is treated at considerable length by Dr. A. Kuenen in 'The Religion of Israel,' translated by Alfred Heath May from the Dutch. Williams and Norgate: London, 1882.] But, still, to Moses the Jews owe their nationality, as the Arabs owed theirs to Muhammad. The former found a weak people, united to a certain extent, but quite unaccustomed to fighting and hardship, and he welded them sufficiently together to enable them, under his successors, to establish themselves in the promised land. The latter found Arabia inhabited by a quantity of tribes, more or less hostile to each other, but brave to a degree; fond of fighting and plundering, and always at it; full of local jealousies and internal enmities, which kept them separate. Muhammad not only induced them to believe in one God, but also brought them together to such, an extent that his successors were able to launch them as united warriors and conquerors throughout the East, and to found an empire for the time being far greater, grander, and more important than Canaan, as divided among the twelve tribes, or the dominions of David and Solomon. As a military leader Muhammad was not particularly celebrated. The military expeditions undertaken by him in person are variously stated to have been from nineteen to twenty-seven in number, whilst those in which he was not present are stated to have amounted to more than fifty. With the exception of one or two to the Syrian frontier, they were chiefly directed against the Arabs and the Jews in Arabia, but none of them were of the magnitude of those undertaken by his successors, Abu Bakr and Omar, who, with the aid of the generals Khalid, son of Walid, Mothanna, Amr bin Al'Aasi, and others, made great conquests, and finally established the Muslim faith on a firm and lasting basis. The details of these successes are admirably told in Muir's 'Annals of the Early Khalifate.' There appears to be a great resemblance between many of the military and warlike expeditions undertaken by Muhammad in Arabia, and those of the Jews, as narrated in the historical works of the Old Testament, in Palestine. In both countries God was used as the authority, and individuals and tribes were attacked and slaughtered much in the same way. Indeed, if the numbers slain, as recorded by the Jewish historians, are to be depended upon, it can only be inferred that the God of the Jews was more vindictive and bloodthirsty than the God of the Arabs. At the present time the Soudanese and their Khalifahs seem to be following very much in the steps of Muhammad, constantly sending forth military expeditions, and issuing letters to foreign potentates. In conclusion, the dogmas and precepts of Islam, as embodied in the Koran, may be summed up as follows: (1) Belief in Allah or God, or, more correctly, 'The God;' that is, the only God. 'Al,' the; 'Ilah,' a God. (2) Belief in the Messengers or Angels. (3) Belief in the Books or Scriptures, and in the Prophets. (4) Belief in Hell and Paradise. (5) Belief in a general resurrection and final judgment. (6) Belief in the decrees of God, or of His having absolutely predestined both good and evil. The five cardinal ordinances of Islam are: (1) The pious recitation of the Kalimah, or Creed: 'There is no God but the one God, and Muhammad is his Apostle.' (2) Prayer. (3) Fasting. (4) Legal and obligatory almsgiving. (5) Pilgrimage. There are several other points connected with the institutions of Islam, such as-- (1) Circumcision. (2) Marriage and polygamy. (3) Slavery. (4) The Jihad, or Holy War. (5) Food, drink and ablutions. But full details connected with the above will be found, if required, in Hughes 'Dictionary of Islam,' so that further reference to them here is unnecessary. It must, however, always be remembered that faith and prayer were the two points which Muhammad always insisted upon as absolutely essential. The Muhammadan religion may be regarded as creating in theory the purest democracy in existence. All men are supposed to be equal. There are no hereditary titles. Every man can rise, either by interest or talent, from the very lowest to the very highest position. There is a universal feeling of brotherhood among the Muslims. All this is excellent in theory, but in practice the ways of the world are different. A Pasha holds his place and upholds his position, while a humble follower of the said Pasha, or other person in an inferior position, knows his place also, and treats his superiors and his inferiors accordingly. In fact, both in the East and the West there appears to be a place for all men, and that place is established by the unwritten laws of the world or by the law of nature, in spite of the many theories propounded by religion, politics, or political economy. Still, Muhammad himself instilled equality among his followers, and in his parting address at Mina, at the time of the farewell pilgrimage, spoke as follows: 'Ye people! hearken to my speech and comprehend the same. Know that every Muslim is the brother of every other Muslim. All of you are on the same equality' (and as he pronounced these words he raised his arms aloft and placed the forefinger of one hand on the forefinger of the other, intending thereby to signify that all were absolutely on the same level); 'ye are one brotherhood. 'Know ye what month this is? What territory is this? What day?' To each question the people gave the appropriate answer, viz.: 'The sacred month, the sacred territory, the great day of pilgrimage.' After every one of these replies Muhammad added: 'Even thus sacred and inviolable hath God made the life and the property of each of you unto the other, until ye meet your Lord. 'Let him that is present tell it unto him that is absent. Haply, he that shall be told may remember better than he who hath heard it.' CHAPTER IV. TALES AND STORIES. Of the two hundred and fifty books of tales, the titles of which are given in the 'Fihrist,' only three or four have attained European fame. Firstly, the book known in Arabic as 'Kalilah wa Dimnah,' containing the celebrated Indian apologues, or the so-called fables of Bidpay, on the origin of which several dissertations have been written. In 'Early Ideas' (W.H. Allen and Co., 1881) mention was made of the fables of Bidpay, or Pilpai, as being the traditionally oldest-known collection of stories in Hindustan, and that from them the 'Pancha Tantra,' or 'Five Chapters,' and the 'Hitopodesa,' or 'Friendly Advice,' are supposed to have been drawn. In 'Persian Portraits' (Quaritch, 1887) it was noted that the Persian work called 'Kalilah wa Dimnah' is said to have been originally derived from the fables of Bidpay, and that it led to the longer and larger works known in Persian literature as the 'Anwar-i-Suheli,' or 'The Lights of Canopos,' and the 'Ayar-Danish,' or 'The Touchstone of Knowledge.' It is highly probable that this work of 'Kalilah wa Dimnah' (translated from Persian into Arabic by Ibn Al-Mukaffa about A.D. 750), and another Persian work, not now extant, but known as the 'Hazar Afsaneh,' or 'Thousand Stories,' were the first sources from which were commenced to be compiled the best collection of tales and stories in Arabic literature, and called 'The Thousand and One Nights,' and popularly known in this country as 'The Arabian Nights.' As regards the 'Hazar Afsaneh,' or 'Thousand Stories,' it is much to be regretted that all trace of this work has disappeared. It is, however, mentioned by Masudi, and An-Nadim, the author of the 'Fihrist,' but whether they had actually seen and perused the whole work is uncertain. It may have been completed during the rule of the Sasanian dynasty in Persia (A.D. 228-641), some of whose kings were patrons of letters, and the work, or portions of it, may have been destroyed along with a large quantity of other Persian literature at the time of the conquest of the Persian Empire by the Arabs in A.D. 641. At all events, it has not yet been found, though it is still hoped that it may turn up some day. As regards the 'Nights' themselves, it is impossible to fix any exact date to them, neither can they be ascribed to any particular authors. From the book as it has come down to us; there is ample evidence to assert that the collection of all the tales and stories occupied many years, and that the authors of them were numerous. As great progress was made in Arab literature from the commencement of the rule of the Abbaside dynasty in A.D. 750, it maybe inferred that the work itself dates from that period, and that it had been put together in a certain form before the fall of Baghdad in A.D. 1258. After that date other stories were probably added, and the whole répertoire was perhaps put together again in its present shape either at Cairo or Damascus, with numerous alterations and additions. It is believed that the fables and apologues are the oldest part of the book. These bear on their face a decided impress of the Farther East; indeed, they are quite of the nature of the stories told in the 'Pancha Tantra,' 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' 'Hitopodesa,' and 'Kalilah wa Dirnnah,' many of them being either the same, or bearing a very great resemblance to them. Animal fables generally may have originated in India, where the doctrine of metempsychosis obtains currency to this day; but, still, Egypt, Greece, and other countries, have also produced stories of the same nature. From the time of the early Egyptians, the fable has ever been the means of conveyance of both instruction and amusement to mankind. And as years rolled by the fable grew into the tale or story, which later on expanded into the romance and the novel. After the fables the oldest tales in the 'Nights' are supposed to be the Sindibad, or the tale of the king, his son, his concubine, and the seven wazirs; and that of King Jali'ad of Hind, and his wazir Shimas, followed by the history of King Wird Khan, son of King Jali'ad, with his women and wazirs. These tales have also an Indian flavour about them, both with regard to the animal stories in them and to the sapient remarks about the duties of kings and their ministers, often referred to in the Kathá Sarit Ságara, of which more anon. The remaining tales and stories in the 'Nights' may be of Persian, Arabian, Egyptian, and Syrian origin, some earlier and some later. The adventures of Kamar Al-Zaman and the jeweller's wife, and of Ma'aruf, the cobbler, and his wife Fatimah, are considered to be two of the very latest stories, having been assigned to the sixteenth century. The story of Aboukir, the dyer, and Abousir, the barber, is quoted by Payne 'as the most modern of the whole collection.' Certain stories of the 'Nights' were first introduced to Europe, between 1704-1708, by Antoine Galland, a Frenchman, whose biography is given by Burton in his 'Terminal Essay,' vol. x., and most interesting it is. The work of the translation of Arabic and Persian stories was continued by Petis de la Croix (1710-12), Morell (1765), Dow (1768), Chavis and Cazotte (1787-89), Caussin de Perceval (1806), Gauttier (1822), Jonathan Scott (1811), Von Hammer Purgstall (1823), Zinzerling (1823-24), Trebutien (1828), Habicht (1825-39), Weil (1838-42), Torrens (1838), Lane (1838-40), and the 'Nights' themselves have now been completely finished by John Payne (1882-84) and Richard Burton (1885-88). A perusal of the productions of all the translators above mentioned will show that, as regards finality, both Payne and Burton have done their work completely, thoroughly, and exhaustively, and for all time, as far as an English translation is concerned. Too much credit cannot be given to these two gentlemen for their untiring labour and energy. The more the 'Nights' are read, the more will people appreciate the amount of hard work and acumen, intelligence and ability, which has been thrown into the undertaking by these two accomplished littérateurs. And it is highly probable that their translations, along with Galland's volumes in French, will ever remain as the standard European versions of this great series of Oriental tales. Space will not permit of a lengthy description of all that is contained in Payne's thirteen, and in Burton's sixteen, volumes. To be appreciated thoroughly, they must be read, like Balzac's works, from the very beginning to the very end. At the same time a brief analysis of these two translations of the 'Nights' may perhaps be interesting, and will serve the purposes of the present chapter. The first nine of Payne's, and the first ten of Burton's, volumes are devoted to the 'Nights' proper, and follow the same lines. The translation has been made from what are commonly known as the Boulac (Cairo) and the two Calcutta Arabic texts of the 'Nights,' though references are made to the Breslau (Tunis) edition, from which also some extracts have been taken and some translations made. The contents of these volumes may be divided into four heads: (1) Fables and apologues. (2) Short stories and anecdotes, some biographical and historical. (3) Tales and stories. (4) Long stories, or romances. Excluding the two short stories in the introductory chapter, there are 10 principal and 6 subordinate fables under the first heading, 116 principal and 3 subordinate stories under the second, 38 principal and 75 subordinate under the third, and 6 principal and 12 subordinate under the fourth heading. This gives a total of 170 principal and 96 subordinate stories in Burton's edition, while Payne gives one principal story and one subordinate one less, his numbers being 169 and 95 respectively. By principal is meant the main or chief story, while by subordinate is meant another story forming part of the main story. In Oriental literature this custom is frequently introduced. A story is commenced, but owing to some allusion in it another story is interpolated, and when this is finished, the original tale is reverted to, only, perhaps, to be interpolated again by another story, and so on. Out of this mass of fable, tale and story, it is difficult to select any particular ones that may prove interesting to everybody. Some are very good, others good, some fairish, and others indifferent; but all are more or less interesting, as they deal with all sorts and conditions of men and women, and all sorts of events and situations. Personally, some twelve stories have struck me as particularly interesting or amusing, though it does not at all follow that what one person fancies another person cares about. A perusal of the work itself will enable its readers to find out what they like for themselves, while the following brief remarks on the twelve stories alluded to above will give a scanty outline of them. The tale of Aziz and Azizah is one of the best in the whole collection. It represents the care and fondness of a truly loving woman, who did her best to shield and protect her very stupid cousin. It is said that people marry for three reasons, viz., for love, for money, or for protection. In truth, nobody can protect a man from a woman as another woman. No man can drive off a woman, divine her intention, or insult her so violently as a woman can, and this is generally understood both in the East and West. In the present story, Azizah first helps her cousin Aziz to woo and win, endeavouring to shield and protect him at the same time from this daughter of Dalilah, the wily one. Had it not been for Azizah's good advice and farewell saying of "Faith is fair, and unfaith is foul," Aziz would have surely perished. Eventually, the loving Azizah dies of a broken heart. Aziz, though repeatedly warned by his mistress, the daughter of Dalilah, not to have anything to do with the sex on account of his youth and simplicity, falls into the hands of another woman, who first marries him, and then keeps him locked up in her house, and never lets him out for a whole year. When, however, he does get away for a day only, he goes at once to see his former mistress, who is furious on hearing that he is married to somebody else, and with the aid of her slave girls serves him out in a way which, from one point of view, makes marriage quite a failure for him in the future. On going back to his wife, she, having found out what had occurred, immediately puts him into the street, and he returns in a sad plight to his mother, who nurses him and gives him the present and the letter that his cousin Azizah had left for him. Finally Aziz, for the sake of distraction, takes to foreign travel, and there meets with Taj al Muluk, whom he assists to find the princess Dunya. The tale of Kamar Al-Zaman and the Lady Budur is both amusing and interesting. It is truly an Eastern story, full of curious and wonderful situations, and quite a kaleidoscope of passing events, which succeed each other rapidly. The hero and the heroine are a young prince and princess, living in very different parts of the world (space and geography have no place in the "Nights"), and both very averse to matrimony. The one fears the smiles and wiles of woman, the other the tyranny and selfishness of man. A certain Queen of the Jinns, with her assistants, bring the two together one night in the same bed, and separate them in the morning. But the sight that each had had of the other caused them to fall desperately in love, and deep are the lamentations of each over the separation, which continues for some years. At last Kamar Al-Zaman finds his way to his lady-love, the Princess Budur, and they are happily wedded; alas! after a short time, to be again separated. Then follow the adventures of each--the lady becomes a king, and is married to a princess, and rules a country, while Kamar Al-Zaman's fate assigns him the place of an under-gardener. Destiny, however, re-unites them, and the Lady Budur's joke before recognition and re-union is certainly humorous. She makes him further marry the lady that she herself was married to, and a son is born to each, respectively called Amjad and Asaad. When the boys grow up, the mother of each falls violently in love with the son of the other, _i.e._, Budur adores Asaad, and Heyat en Nufus worships Amjad, and the two mothers end by making dishonourable proposals to the two sons. These overtures being indignantly rejected, the mothers, as in all Eastern tales, turn the tables by informing their husband that his sons had made indecent proposals to them. In consequence they are sent off to be slain in the desert, but, from the circumstances which occur there, the executioner spares their lives, and returns with their clothes steeped in a lion's blood, reporting that he has carried out the king's instructions, and quoting their last message to their father: 'Women are very devils, made to work us dole and death; Refuge I seek with God Most High from all their craft and skaith. Prime source are they of all the ills that fall upon mankind, Both in the fortunes of this world and matters of the faith.' The king at once recognises their innocence, and mourns over their loss, building two tombs in their memory, called the Houses of Lamentations, where he spends his days weeping. Meanwhile the two youths, left to their own devices by the executioner, journey onward, arrive at a city, become separated, go through all sorts of adventures, all of a most thrilling description, and are finally re-united. The closing scene brings all the characters of the romance together at the same place, and the grandfathers, fathers, and sons all meet once more, but no further mention is made about the two mothers, who so deeply injured their own offspring. Ala Aldin Abu Al-Shamat.--This story is of considerable interest, for it begins with a recipe for an aphrodisiac, and contains many allusions to Eastern manners and customs. Born of wealthy parents at Cairo, details are given of Ala Aldin's youth and boyhood, and of how the wish to travel and to trade was instilled into his mind by his young companions, at the instigation of a crafty old sinner, Mahmud of Balkh. With some reluctance his father at last allows him to start, and going first to Damascus, then to Aleppo, he is robbed of all his property just before he reaches Baghdad, and very nearly loses his life into the bargain, but his good fortune saves him on two occasions. Arrived at Baghdad, his adventures begin, and they follow each other with considerable rapidity. He first is married to Zobeidah the Lutist, on the understanding that it was for one night only, and that he was to divorce her the next morning, so that she might be re-married to her former husband. But when the time comes, Ala Aldin and the lady find each other such pleasant company that they absolutely decline to divorce, and elect to pay the fine. This money is provided for them by Harun-ar-Rashid, who visits them one night with three of his companions all disguised as dervishes, and they are charmed with Zobeidah's performance on the lute, her singing, and her recitations. Ala Aldin then goes to the Court, where he rises to high favour and receives various good appointments. To his great grief he loses his wife, who dies, as he supposes, and is buried with the usual mourning, but in reality turns up again at the end of the tale, and is re-united to her husband. It appears that a servant of the Jinn had carried her off to another country, leaving a Jinneyah to be buried in her place. To make up for the loss of Zobeidah, the Khalif gives Ala Aldin one of his own slave-girls, Kut al Kulub by name, and sends her, with all her belongings, to his house. Ala Aldin will not have anything to do with her, on the grounds--"What was the master's should not become the man's;" but he lodges, boards, and treats her handsomely. Eventually Harun takes her back, and orders a slave-girl to be bought at his expense in the market for ten thousand dinars for Ala Aldin. This is done, and a girl named Jessamine is purchased and given to him. He sets her at once free and marries her. But at the time of the purchase another man had been bidding for this same girl, and, being much in love with her, his family determine to assist him in getting hold of her. A whole lot of fresh characters then appear on the scene, and, after much plotting and intrigue, Ala Aldin is arrested and sentenced to death. He, however, escapes to Alexandria, and there opens a shop. Further adventures follow, till he finds himself at Genoa, where he remains for some time as servant in a church. Meanwhile at Baghdad his wife Jessamine has borne him a son, named Asdan, who grows up, and in time discovers the author and nature of the theft of which his father had been accused, and thus prepares the way for his return to the city of the Khalifs. This is brought about by the Princess Husn Maryam at Genoa, with whom Ala Aldin finds his first wife Zobeidah, and they all set out on a wonderful couch and go first to Alexandria, then to Cairo to visit his parents, and finally to Baghdad, where he marries the princess and lives happy ever afterwards. Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper is a very short story, but quite Rabelaisian in its humour, and the manner in which the Persian and the Kurd describe the contents of the small bag that had been lost. All sorts of things are mentioned in a haphazard way, many of them, however, perhaps, being required to fulfil the exigencies of the rhymed prose in which the story is written in the original Arabic. The Man of Al-Yaman and his six Slave-Girls.--The six girls in this story have all different qualities. One is white, another brown, the third fat, the fourth lean, the fifth yellow, and the sixth black. The happy owner gets them together, and in verse and recitation each praises her own peculiarity, and abuses that of her opposite by examples and quotations. There is an Oriental twang about the story which makes it worthy of notice, and some of the verses are not bad. Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud.--This story is not amusing, but it is very interesting, especially to persons studying the minute details of the Muhammadan faith, doctrine and practice, according to the Shafai school, and the exegesis of the Koran, all of which are wonderfully expounded by the slave-girl. In the shape of questions and answers an enormous amount of information of all sorts is put into the mouth of this highly accomplished female. The writer deals not only with theology, but also with physiology in all its branches, or, at least, with as many as were known at the period of the tale. Further, medicine, astronomy, philosophy, and all kinds of knowledge are discussed. A series of conundrums are put to the girl and replied to by her, and she also displays her skill in chess, draughts, backgammon, and music. It is to be regretted that the exact date of this species of Mangnall's Questions and Answers cannot be ascertained, for this would enable us to appreciate better the amount of knowledge displayed on the various subjects under discussion. Anyhow, it is certain that it must have been written some time after the doctrines of the Imam Shafai (he died A.D. 820) had been well-defined and established. Owing to certain medical and surgical queries and replies, it is to be presumed that the whole must have been worked up after the Arab school of medicine and physiology had arrived at their highest stage of perfection. The whole story is a good specimen of the state of civilization reached by the Arabs, and as such is worth a reference. Three other stories in the 'Nights' bear some affinity to the above, but they are much more limited, both as regards the subject they deal with and the information they supply. One is 'King Jali'ad and his vizier Shimas,' in Payne's eighth and Burton's ninth volume; another, 'History of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young Sayyid,' in Burton's fifth supplemental; and the third, 'The Duenna and the King's Son,' in his sixth supplemental. The Rogueries of Dalilah the Crafty, and her daughter, Zeynab the Trickstress.--The tricks played by Dalilah the Crafty on all sorts of people in this story are of a nature that would make the tale amusing to the Arabs generally, and to the frequenters of coffee-houses particularly. Dalilah's father and husband had held lucrative appointments under the Khalifs of Baghdad, and, with a view to obtain something for herself and her daughter Zeynab, these two women determined to bring themselves to notice by playing tricks, and doing things which were likely to be talked of in the great city. In Europe at the present time the same method is often followed. Attempted assassinations, attempted suicides, complaints in the police-courts and cases in the law-courts are sometimes meant simply as an advertisement.[7] Anyhow, Dalilah's tricks played on various people are certainly amusing, and as they run ingeniously one into the other, it is somewhat difficult to describe them in a few words. The tale, to be appreciated, must be read through. Sufficient to add that Dalilah and Zeynab both eventually obtain what they wish, and the various things taken from the different parties are duly returned to them. [Footnote 7: As an example take the following extract from the _Daily Telegraph_ of 16th July, 1889: 'The sisters Macdonald have been giving a great deal more trouble to the police lately than even the bearers of so historic a name are entitled to give. Ethel Macdonald appeared at Marlborough Street charged with having wilfully smashed a window at the Junior Carlton Club, St. James's Square. It was stated that the aggressive Ethel was one of the daughters of an ex-superintendent of county constabulary deceased, and that his daughters, being left unprovided for, had taken to going on the "rampage." One of the sisters alleges that she has been wronged by "a rich man," and a short time since another Miss Macdonald, on being arraigned before Mr. Newton, flung a bottle at the head of that learned magistrate. Ethel was discharged, but it was ordered that she should be sent to the workhouse for inquiries to be made into her state of mind.'] The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo.--This story is of the same nature as the preceding one, and in all the editions of the 'Nights' the one always follows the other, while in the Breslau text the two stories run together. Ali begins life at Cairo, and ends at Baghdad, where his tricks and adventures follow each other in rapid succession, his object being to obtain in marriage the hand of Zeynab, the daughter of Dalilah the Crafty. He is first tricked himself by Zeynab, but continues his pursuit of her, and though at times he is transformed into the shapes of an ass, a bear, and a dog by the magic arts of Azariah the Jew, eventually he succeeds, with the aid of the Jew's daughter, in obtaining the property required, and finally marries Zeynab, the Jewess, and two other women. Hasan of Busra and the King's Daughter of the Jinn.--This is a good specimen of a real Oriental romance, with the wonderful and marvellous adventures of the hero interlaced with magic, alchemy, the Jinns, and other fabulous varieties, so that the highest ideals of the imagination are almost arrived at. Bahram the Magician, who first beguiles Hasan with alchemy and then carries him off and endeavours to destroy him, is himself destroyed in the early part of the story. The kindness of the seven princesses to Hasan during his stay with them, and his visits to them later on, are described at length, as also is the way in which the hero falls desperately in love with the king's daughter of the Jinn, and secures her as his bride. The happy pair start for Busra, and rejoin his mother, and then settle down in Baghdad, where two sons are born and happiness reigns supreme. But during Hasan's absence on a visit to his former friends the seven princesses, some domestic scenes between his wife, his mother, and Zobeidah, the spouse of the Khalif Harun-ar-Rashid, are introduced, which end by the wife re-possessing herself of her original feather garment, and flying off with her two children to the islands of Wac, where her father and family resided. On his return Hasan is broken-hearted to find her gone, and determines to set out and try and recover her. Then follows the description of his journeys, which fill pages describing the white country, and the black mountain, the land of camphor, and the castle of crystal. The islands of Wac were seven in number, peopled by Satans and Marids, and warlocks and tribesmen of the Jinn. To reach them Hasan has to traverse the island of birds, the land of beasts, and the valley of Jinn. Without the aid of the princesses, their uncle Abdul-cuddous, Abourruweish, Dehnesh ben Fectesh, Hassoun, king of the land of Camphor, and the old woman Shawahi, he never would have reached his destination. This, however, he finally does, and with the aid of a magic cup and wand recovers his wife and children, and returns with them to Baghdad, where they live happily ever afterwards, till there came to them the Creditor whose debt must always be paid sooner or later, the Destroyer of delights, and the Severer of societies. Ali Nur Al-din and Miriam the Girdle-Girl (called by Payne, the Frank King's Daughter).--The adventures of Ali with Miriam, whom he first buys as a slave-girl in Alexandria, and from whom he is separated and re-united, again separated and again united, are told at some length. But the principal features in this tale are the innumerable verses in praise of various fruits, flowers, wine, women, musical instruments, the beauty of the hero, etc., and on the subjects of love, union, separation, etc. Miriam herself is a charming character of self-reliance and independence. On her first appearance in the slave market, at the time of her sale, she declines to be purchased by the old men, and abuses their age and their infirmities. Indeed, she seemed to be of the same opinion as our great national poet, who wrote: 'Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together; Youth is full of plaisance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold, Youth is wild and age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; Youth, I do adore thee; O my love, my love is young; Age, I do defy thee, O sweet shepherd, hie thee, For methinks thou stay'st too long'. However, she finally consents to be bought by the young and good-looking Ali, who spends his last thousand dinars in her purchase, and then has nothing to live upon. Miriam remedies this by making every night a beautiful girdle, which Ali sells for a good price in the bazaar next day. This goes on for upwards of a year, when the first separation is brought about by the crafty old Wazir of her father, the King of France, who had sent him especially to look for his daughter. In the course of the adventures that follow, Miriam shows her capacity in sailing ships and in killing various men, among others her three brothers, who pursued her in her last flight from her father's city. Eventually she and Ali get to Baghdad, where the Khalif makes things smooth for them, and they are married, and finally return to Cairo to rejoin Ali's parents, from whom he had run away in his youth. Kamar Al-Zaman and the Jeweller's Wife is one of the modern tales of the 'Nights,' and a very good one, containing a good plot and plenty of interesting incidents. The jeweller's wife, Halimah by name, is one of the wickedest and craftiest of women in Busra, and her plots and intrigues are well described; some of them are to be found in Persian story-books. After playing all sorts of tricks, she leaves her husband, and elopes with the youth Kamar to Cairo, where his parents reside. There his father will not let him marry her, but confines her and her slave-girl in a room, and arranges a marriage for his son with another woman. After a time Halimah's husband, Obayd, the jeweller, turns up in Cairo in the most beggarly plight, having been plundered by Bedouins _en route_. After explanations, Obayd ends by killing his wife and her slave-girl, who had assisted her in all her devilries, and Kanar's father marries him to his daughter, who turns out the most virtuous of women. The moral of the tale is pointed out at the end, that there are both bad women and good women in the world, and is closed with the remark: 'So he who deemeth all women to be alike, there is no remedy for the disease of his insanity.' Ma'aruf the Cobbler and his wife Fatimah commences with a domestic scene between the two, from which it appears that the poor husband had been shamefully sat upon from the day of his marriage, and that his wife was a dreadful woman. Affairs, however, at last reach a climax, and Ma'aruf seeks peace and safety in flight. Balzac, in his clever novel of 'Le Contrat de Mariage,' makes his hero Manerville fly from the machinations of his wife and mother-in-law, but Henri de Marsay, writing to his friend pages on the subject, contends that he is wrong, and points out to him the course that he should have followed. Anyhow, in Ma'aruf the Cobbler's case, the result is satisfactory. Arriving by the aid of a Jinn at a far-away city, he found a friend, who directed him how to behave, and to tell everybody that he was a great and wealthy merchant, but that his merchandise was still on the way, and expected daily. Pending the arrival of his baggage-train, Ma'aruf borrowed from everybody, gave it all away in largesse to the poor, and behaved generally as if he were very well-to-do. By these means he made such an impression on the King of the place that the latter married him to his daughter, and made large advances from the treasury in anticipation of the arrival of the merchandise. Time goes on, but still the baggage does not turn up. The King, instigated by his Wazir, becomes suspicious, and persuades his daughter to worm out the real story from her husband. This she does in a clever way, and Ma'aruf tells her his true history. The woman behaves admirably, refuses to expose his vagaries, and, giving him fifty thousand dinars, advises him to fly to a foreign country, to begin to trade there, and to keep her informed of his whereabouts and the turn of his fortunes. The Cobbler departs during the night, while his wife the next morning tells the King and the Wazir a long rigmarole story of how her husband had been summoned by his servants, who had informed him that his baggage-train and merchandise had been attacked by the Arabs, and that he had gone himself to look after his affairs. Meanwhile Ma'aruf departs sore at heart, weeping bitterly, and, like all 'Arabian Nights' heroes in adversity, repeating countless verses. After various adventures he falls in with a vast treasure, and a casket containing a seal ring of gold, which, when rubbed, causes the slave of the seal ring, naturally a Jinn, to appear and carry out every wish and order that Ma'aruf might give him. With the aid, then, of the Jinn, Abu Al-Saddat by name, the Cobbler returns to his wife laden with treasure and merchandise, and thus proves to all the doubters that he is a true man. He pays all his debts, gives a great deal to the poor, and bestows presents of an enormous value on his wife, her attendants, and all the people of the Court. As a matter of course, all this prosperity is followed by adversity. The King and his Wazir combine together, and ask Ma'aruf to a garden-party, make him drunk, and get him to relate the story of his success. Recklessly he shows the ring to the Wazir, who gets hold of it, rubs it, and on the appearance of the slave of the ring, orders him to carry off the Cobbler and cast him down in the desert. The Wazir then orders the King to be treated in the same way, while he himself seizes the Sultanate, and aspires to marry Ma'aruf's wife, the King's daughter. With much interesting detail the story relates how the Princess Dunya gets the ring into her possession, sends the Wazir to prison, and rescues her father and her husband from the desert. The Wazir is then put to death, and the ring is kept by the lady, as she thinks it would be safer in her keeping than in that of her relations. After this a son is born, the King dies, Ma'aruf succeeds to the throne, and shortly after loses his wife, who before her death gives him back the ring, and urges him to take good care of it for his own sake and for the sake of his boy. Time goes on, and the Cobbler's first wife, Fatimah, turns up in town, brought there also by a Jinn, and tells the story of the want and suffering she had undergone since his departure from Cairo. Ma'aruf treats her generously, and sets her up in a palace with a separate establishment, but the wickedness of the woman reappears, and she tries to get hold of the ring for her own purposes. Just as she has secured it she is cut down and killed on the spot by Ma'aruf's son, who had been watching her proceedings, and is thus finally disposed of. The King and his son then marry, and live happily in the manner of Eastern story, all the other characters being properly provided for. So much for the 'Nights' proper. Other stories translated from the Breslau text (a Tunisian manuscript acquired, collated and translated by Professor Habicht, of Breslau, Von der Hagen, and another; 15 volumes, 12mo., Breslau, 1825), the Calcutta fragment of 1814-1818, and other sources, have been given by Payne in three extra volumes entitled 'Tales from the Arabic,' and by Burton in two of his six volumes of the 'Supplemental Nights.' Payne's three books and Burton's two first volumes follow the same lines. They both contain twenty principal, and sixty-four subordinate stories, or eighty-four altogether, divided into nine short stories and seventy-five longer ones. Some of them are very interesting, and some are amusing, especially a few of the sixteen Constables' Stories, which describe the cleverness of women, and the adroitness of thieves, and people of that class. It is probable that these are more or less of a modern date. The first story in this collection, called 'The Sleeper and the Waker,' commonly known as 'The Sleeper Awakened,' is good, and also particularly interesting as one of Galland's stories not traced at the time, but afterwards turning up in the Tunis text of the 'Nights.' The third volume of Burton's 'Supplemental Nights' is one of the most interesting of the whole lot. It contains eight principal and four subordinate stories of Galland's 'Contes Arabes,' which are not included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions of the 'Nights.' For many years the sources from which Galland procured these tales were unknown. Some said that he invented them himself. Others conjectured that he got them from the story-tellers in Constantinople and other places in the East. But in A.D. 1886 Mr. H. Zotenberg, the keeper of Eastern Manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, obtained a manuscript copy of the "Nights," which contained the Arabic originals of the stories of "Zayn Al Asnam," and of "Aladdin," two of Galland's best stories. This was a very valuable acquisition, for it sets at rest the doubts that had always been expressed about the origin of these two tales, and also leads to the supposition that the Arabic originals of the other stories will also turn up some day. Of these eight principal and four subordinate stories of Galland, those of "Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp," and of "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves," have ever been most popular tales, and have been appreciated by many generations from the time that Galland first introduced them to Europe. But some of the other stories are equally good, and all are worth reading, as Burton has not only taken Galland as a guide, but has also adapted his own translation from the Hindustani version of the Gallandian tales, prepared by one Totárám Shayán, whose texts of the "Nights," along with those of others, are fully discussed. By this method Burton endeavoured to preserve the Oriental flavour of the work itself, without introducing too much French sauce. After the discovery of the Arabic original of the stories of "Zayn Al-Asnam" and "Aladdin," Payne recognized its importance, and published his translation of these two tales in a separate volume in 1889, which forms a sort of appendix to his previously issued twelve volumes. This thirteenth book contains also an interesting introduction, giving a _résumé_ of Mr. Zotenberg's work, published at Paris in 1888, and which contains the Arab text of the story of Aladdin, along with an exhaustive notice of certain manuscripts of the "Thousand and One Nights," and of Galland's translation. The fourth and fifth volumes of Burton's "Supplemental Nights" contain certain new stories from an Arabic manuscript of the "Nights" in seven volumes, brought to Europe by Edward Wortley Montague, Esq., and bought at the sale of his library by Dr. Joseph White, Professor of Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, from whom it passed into the hands of Dr. Jonathan Scott, who sold it to the Bodleian Library, at Oxford, for fifty pounds. Wortley Montague's manuscript contains many additional tales not included in the Calcutta, Boulak, or Breslau editions, and these additional stories Burton has now translated. It is uncertain how or where Wortley Montague obtained his copy of the 'Thousand and One Nights.' Dr. White had at one time intended to translate the whole lot, but this was never accomplished. Jonathan Scott did, however, translate some of the stories, which were published in the sixth volume of his 'Arabian Nights Entertainment' in A.D. 1811, but the work was badly and incompletely done. It has now been thoroughly revised and put into better form by Burton in these two volumes. In Appendix I. to Volume V. there is a catalogue of the contents of the Wortley Montague MS., which is very interesting, as it contains not only a description of the manuscript itself, but also a complete list of the tales making up the "Thousand and One Nights," many of which are, of course, to be found in the "Nights" proper. These two supplemental volumes contain 25 principal and 31 subordinate stories, or 56 in all. Some of them are very amusing, especially the tales of the Larrikins, while the whole add to our knowledge of this vast répertoire of tales from the East, which has been gradually brought to the notice of Europe during the last one hundred and eighty-five years. Burton's sixth supplemental volume contains certain stories taken from a book of Arabian tales, a continuation of the 'Arabian Nights Entertainment,' brought out by Dom Chavis, a Syrian priest, and eventually teacher of Arabic at the University of Paris, and Mr. Jacques Cazotte, a well-known French _littérateur,_ unfortunately and unjustly guillotined in Paris on the 25th September, 1792, at the time of the Revolution. This work, sometimes called 'The New Arabian Nights,' is an imitation of Galland's marvellous production, and may be considered a sort of continuation of it. Dom Chavis brought the manuscripts to France, and agreed with Mr. Cazotte to collaborate, the former translating the Arabic into French, and the latter metamorphosing the manner and matter to the style and taste of the day. The work first appeared in 1788-89, and was translated into English in 1792. Burton, in his Foreword to this volume, gives a full account of these stories, as translated and edited by Chavis and Cazotte. He himself gives a translation of eight of them, one of which, The Linguist, the Duenna, and the King's Son, is interesting, as it contains a series of conundrums, questions and answers, which may remind the reader of the story of Abu Al-Husn and his slave-girl Tawaddud, in the 'Nights' proper, and of the history of Al-Hajjaj bin Yusuf and the young Sayyid, from the Wortley Montague MS. In addition to the eight translated stories, the sixth volume contains a great deal of matter in the shape of appendices, such as--Notes on Zotenberg's work on Aladdin and on various manuscripts of the 'Nights'; Biography of the work and its Reviewers Reviewed; Opinions of the Press, etc.; but though well worthy of perusal by the curious, space does not allow of further allusions to them here. To sum up, then, shortly, Payne's thirteen volumes contain 193 principal, and 159 subordinate stories, or 352 in all, while Burton's sixteen volumes contain 231 principal, and 195 subordinate stories, or 426 altogether. These numerous stories, translated from the Calcutta (1814-18), Calcutta Macnaghten (1839-42), Boulak (Cairo, 1835-36), Breslau (Tunis), Wortley Montague, Galland and Chavis texts may be considered to form what is commonly called 'The Arabian Nights Entertainment.' They date from A.D. 750, which may be considered as the year of their commencement and that of the Abbaside dynasty, and go on, continually added to, up to A.D. 1600, or even later. Many authors have had a hand in the work, the stories themselves having been derived from Indian, Persian, Arabian, Egyptian, Syrian and Grecian sources, and adapted, more or less, for Arab readers and hearers. And as the manuscripts in some of these stories in different countries do not in any way tally, it must be supposed that no such work as an original copy of the 'Thousand and One Nights' has ever been in existence. The repertoire, consisting of a few stories at first, has gradually grown to such a size that now it may almost be considered to contain the largest and best collection of stories that the world has, as yet seen. Mention has been already made in a previous page of the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' or Ocean of the Streams of Story, and a brief description of this work was given in the third chapter of 'Early Ideas' (A.D. 1881). Since then a complete translation of the 'Kathá' has been made by Professor C.H. Tawney, of the Calcutta College, and it has been published in fourteen fasciculi, in the 'Bibliotheca Indica,' by the Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1880-1887. It is to be regretted, for the sake of the student and the anthropologist, that the translation is presented in an expurgated form. Still, the Professor has done his work (and a long and tedious work it must have been) excessively well, while many of his notes, corrigenda and addenda are most interesting. The 'Arabian Nights' and the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' occupy respectively the same position in Arabic and Hindoo literature. They are both collections of tales adapted to the people of the country for which they have been written. A perusal of both the works will show how much they differ. The characters and ideas of the heroes and heroines, their thoughts, reflections, speeches, surroundings, and situations are worth studying in the two books as an exposition of the manners and customs, ideas and habits of two distinct peoples. The Hindoo characters, as depicted in their story-book, will be found to be duller, heavier, more reverential, and more superstitious than the characters in the 'Nights.' There are two things, however, common to the two books: the power of destiny, and the power of love, against which it is apparently useless to struggle. While there are 426 stories in Burton's 'Nights,' there are 330 tales of sorts in Tawney's 'Kathá.' Both works are rather formidable as regards size and quantity of matter; still, after a start has been fairly made, the interest goes on increasing in a wonderful way, until at last one becomes absorbed and interested to a degree that can scarcely be imagined. The stories in the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' are supposed to have been originally composed by one Gunádhya, in the Paisacha language, and made known in Sanscrit under the title of 'Vrihat Kathá,' or Great Tale. From this work one Bhatta Somadeva, in the eleventh century A.D., prepared the work now known as the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' but probably stories have been added to it since. At present it consists of eighteen books, divided into one hundred and twenty-four chapters, and containing three hundred and thirty stories, along with other matter. Of Gunádhya, the supposed original author, not much is known, but Vatsyayana, in his 'Kama Sutra' (printed privately for the Kama Shastra Society) mentions the name of Gunádhya as a writer whose works he had consulted, and gives frequent quotations from them in his chapter on the duties of a wife. The exact date of Vatsyayana's life is also uncertain; some time not earlier than the first century B.C., and not later than the sixth century A.D., is considered to be the approximate period of his existence. Like the 'Arabian Nights,' it is highly probable that the 'Kathá' grew by degrees to its present size. Gunádhya's original work is apparently not now extant. Between the time it was written and the time that Somadeva produced his edition of it, many stories may have been added, and the same process may have continued afterwards. Somadeva, however, says: 'I compose this collection, which contains the pith of the "Vrihat Kathá."' Again he writes: 'This book is precisely on the model of that from which it is taken; there is not the slightest deviation; only such language is selected as tends to abridge the prolixity of the work; the observance of propriety and natural connection, and the joining together of the portions of the poem so as not to interfere with the spirit of the stories, are as far as possible kept in view. I have not made this attempt through desire of a reputation for ingenuity, but in order to facilitate the recollection of a multitude of various tales.' The 'Kathá Sarit Ságara' contains many stories now existing in the 'Pancha Tantra,' or Five Chapters, in the 'Hitopodesa,' or Friendly Advice, in the 'Baital Pachesi,' or Twenty-five Stories of a Demon, and other Indian story-books. Owing to the total absence of dates it is difficult to determine from what sources all these stories were collected. But as some of the same fables and animal stories are to be found in the 'Buddhist Birth Stories,' or Játaka Tales, in the 'Arabian Nights,' and in the 'Kathá,' it may fairly be conjectured that stories of this nature were in early years in considerable circulation, and used as a means of conveying wisdom and advice both to the classes and to the masses in those prehistoric times. To return to Arab story-books. Mention must be made of 'Antar,' a Bedouin romance, which has been partially translated from the Arabic into English by Terrick Hamilton, Secretary to the British Embassy at Constantinople, and published in London (1820). Mr. Clouston, in his 'Arabian Poetry for English Readers,' Glasgow, 1881, has given an abstract of the story, with some specimens of translations from the original. The work itself is generally supposed to have been written by Al-Asmai, the philologist and grammarian (born A.D. 740, died A.D. 831), who flourished at the court of Harun-ar-Rashid, and was a great celebrity in his time. It is probable that many of the stories told about Antar and his wonderful deeds came down orally and traditionally to Al-Asmai, who embellished them with his own imagination, aided by a wonderful knowledge of the language and idioms used by the Arabs in their desert wilds. Antar is the hero, and Abla the heroine, of the romance. Antar himself is supposed to have lived during the sixth century A.D., and to have been the author of one of the seven famous poems suspended at Mecca, and known as the Mua'llakat. Besides this he was distinguished as a great warrior, whose deeds of daring were quite marvellous. The translator had intended to divide the work into three parts. The first ends with the marriage of Antar and Abla, to attain which many difficulties had to be overcome. The second part includes the period when Antar suspends his poem at Mecca, also a work of considerable difficulty. The third part gives the hero's travels, conquests, and death. Mr. Hamilton only translated and published the first part of the three, and the two others have not yet been done into English. The romance of Antar, though tedious, is interesting, as it gives full details of the life of the Arabs before Muhammad's time, and even after, for the Arab life of to-day is apparently much the same as it was three thousand years ago. It appears to be an existence made up of continual wanderings, constant feud and faction, and perpetual struggles for food, independence and plunder. But in the deserts on the frontiers of Syria, Palestine, Mesopotamia and Baghdad, it is said that the various tribes are now kept much more in subjection by the Turks, owing to the introduction of the breech-loader, against which the Arab and his matchlock and his peculiar mode of warfare is somewhat powerless. While the 'Arabian Nights' are supposed to treat more of the inhabitants of the towns, the romance of Antar deals more with the inhabitants of the desert. To the student of the Arabic language both works are interesting, as they occupy a prominent and standard place in Arabian literature, and afford much information about the manners and customs, ideas and peculiarities of an ancient and interesting race of people. It must be admitted that both Antar and the 'Arabian Nights' are so long that they rather try the patience of readers not particularly interested in them. Nowadays in England the daily press supplies such a mass of information of all sorts in connection with every branch of society, that a constant and persistent reader of our daily and weekly newspapers can find in them quite an 'Arabian Nights Entertainment' without going further afield. Indeed, the stories concerning the cures effected by certain patent medicines are as wonderful as anything one ever reads in the 'Nights' themselves. And in addition to the realities and actualities of life, as daily told in our newspapers and law reports, many of which do certainly prove that fact is stranger than fiction, there are numerous writers who keep the public supplied with tales and stories of every kind and description. And from the great demand for such productions, whether issued as the penny dreadful, the thrilling story, or the regulation romance in three volumes, one conclusion can only be drawn, which is--that the human mind, everywhere in the East, West, North and South, is always anxious to be fed or amused with something startling or romantic, dreadful or improbable, exciting or depressing. It is to be presumed, then, that the 'Nights' filled the vacuum in the minds of the people of that day in the East, much the same as the books and newspapers of our time satisfy the cravings of the humanities of the West, who still seem to be ever in search of something new, even if not true; something original, even if not trustworthy. Human nature appears to be much the same in all ages and at all times, and the scandals connected with high persons, the memoirs and reminiscences of celebrated ones, and the good sayings of witty ones, have always found much favour with the public generally, whether told as stories, published as books, or printed in the papers. Arabic literature abounds with biographical details and stories about celebrated and distinguished men. It was always the custom and fashion to fill their works with much information of the kind. The same fashion appears to exist in England at the present time, with this advantage, however, that we now get all the details and stories direct from the heroes themselves, and during their lifetime. CHAPTER V. ANECDOTES AND ANA. In Persian literature there are three celebrated works (Sa'di's 'Gulistan,' or Rose Garden, A.D. 1258; Jawini's 'Negaristan,' or Portrait Gallery, A.D. 1334; and Jami's 'Beharistan,' or Abode of Spring, A.D. 1487, all translated by the Kama Shastra Society), containing an entertaining collection of stories, verses, and moral maxims. In Arabic literature there are many books of the same sort, and in this chapter it is proposed to give a few specimens of stories and philosophic reflections culled from various authors. This will perhaps be more interesting than a lengthened analysis of the works themselves. The following anecdotes have been taken from the 'Naphut-ul-Yaman' (Breeze or Breath of Yaman), a collection of stories and poetical extracts of various Arabic authors, edited by Ahmad-ash-Shirwani. I. Al-Jahiz said: 'I never was put so much to shame as when a woman met me on the road and said, "I have some business with you," and I followed her till we reached the shop of a goldsmith, when she said, "Like this man," and walked away. I stood amazed, and asked the goldsmith to explain the matter. He replied: "This woman wanted me to make her a figure of Satan, and I told her that I did not know his physiognomy; whereon she brought you!"' II. A voracious man paid a visit to a hermit, who brought him four loaves, and then went to fetch a dish of beans; but when he had come with it, he found that his guest had consumed the bread. Accordingly he departed to bring some more bread, but when he returned with it he saw that the man had devoured the beans. This proceeding was repeated ten times, whereon the host asked his guest to what place he was travelling. He replied, 'To Rei.' 'Wherefore?' 'I heard of a celebrated physician in that town, and I mean to consult him about my stomach, because I have but little appetite for eating.' 'I have a request to make of you.' 'What is it?' 'When you return, after having recovered your appetite, please do not pay me a visit again.' III. One day the poet Abu Nuwas made his appearance at the gate of the palace of Rashid, who, as soon as he was informed of this, called for eggs, and said to his courtiers: 'Here is Abu Nuwas at the door. Now let each of you take an egg and place it under his body, and when he enters I shall feign to be angry with all of you, and shall exclaim: "Now lay eggs each of you, and if you do not I shall order you all to be beheaded," and we shall see how he will behave.' Then the poet was admitted, and the conversation continued. After a while, however, the Khalif became angry, and manifested his displeasure by exclaiming: 'You are all like hens, and meddle with things that do concern you; now lay eggs each of you, for that is your nature, or I shall order your heads to be struck off.' Then he looked at the courtier on his right, saying: 'You are the first; now lay an egg.' Accordingly he made great efforts, and contorting his features, at last drew forth an egg. Then the Khalif addressed the others successively in the same manner, and when the turn of Abu Nuwas came, he struck his sides with his hands, and crowing like a cock, said: 'My lord, hens are useless without a cock. These are hens, and I am their cock.' Hereon the Khalif burst out laughing, and approved of his excuse. IV. A certain king was much addicted to women, and one of his viziers warned him of the danger. Shortly afterwards some of his concubines observed that his behaviour towards them had changed, and one of them said: 'My lord, what is this?' He replied: 'One of my viziers (mentioning his name) advised me not to love you.' 'Then,' said the girl, 'present me to him, O king, and do not reveal what I shall do to him.' Accordingly he gave the girl away, and when the vizier was alone with her, she made herself so amiable that he fell in love with her, but she refused to grant him any favour except on condition of allowing her first to ride on his back. He agreed. Accordingly she bridled and saddled him, but meanwhile sent word to the king what was taking place; and when he arrived he saw the vizier in the position alluded to, and said: 'You warned me of the love of woman, and this is the state I see you in.' The vizier replied: 'O king! this is just what I warned you of!' V. Once a lion, a fox, and a wolf were associates in the chase, and after they had killed an ass, a gazelle, and a hare, the lion said to the wolf: 'Divide the prey among us;' whereon the latter said: 'The ass will be yours, the hare the fox's, and the gazelle mine;' and the lion knocked his eye out. Then the fox said: 'A curse on him, what a silly division he proposed!' Accordingly the lion said: 'Then do you make the division, O possessor of the brush!' And the fox said: 'The ass will be for your dinner, the gazelle for your supper, and the hare for your luncheon.' The lion said: 'You rogue! who taught you to make such a just distribution?' and Reynard answered, 'The eye of the wolf.' VI. A certain king asked his vizier whether habit can vanquish nature, or nature habit? The vizier replied: 'Nature is stronger, because it is a root, and habit a branch, and every branch returns to its root.' Now the king called for wine, and a number of cats made their appearance with candles in their paws, and stood around him; then he said to the vizier: 'Do you perceive your mistake in saying that nature is stronger than habit?' The vizier replied: 'Give me time till this evening.' The king continued: 'You shall have it.' Accordingly the vizier appeared in the evening with a mouse in his sleeve, and when the cats were standing with their candles, he allowed it to slip out, whereon all the cats threw down the candles and ran after it, so that the house was nearly set on fire. Then the vizier said: 'Behold, O king, how nature overcomes habit, and how the branch returns to the root.' The 'Merzubán námah,' translated from the Persian into Arabic, is said to be of very ancient origin, and to embody good maxims in fables. It was composed, or is supposed to have been composed, by one of the old princes of Persia called Merzuban, a brother of the King Nausherwan the Just, who died A.D. 578. On referring to the great encyclopædical and bibliographical dictionary, edited by Fluegel, it will be found, under No. 11,783, that Haji Khalfa mentions this book, giving, however, its title only, without mentioning the time of its composition, nor the author of it, nor the language in which it had been written. The following are some extracts from this work, and the stories resemble others that have come from the Farther East. I. The philosopher Merzubán said: 'I am informed that in a certain district of Aderbaijan there is a mountain as high as the sky, with fine brooks, trees, fruits and herbs. Under the shelter of one of the most beautiful trees a pair of partridges lived most happily, but in the vicinity there was likewise a powerful eagle with his brood, who periodically visited the abode of the partridges and devoured their young ones. When the pair had thus several times lost their progeny, the male proposed that it would either be necessary for them to emigrate to some other locality, or to try some expedient by which they might escape from the rapacity of the eagle. He was of opinion that even in case of failure they might gain some valuable experience that would be of use in future attempts to elude the persecution, and said: "We must at all events make a trial, and may learn something from it, like the donkey who endeavoured to become the companion of the camel." The she-partridge asked, "How was that?" and the male continued: II. '"Once a donkey tried to keep up walking with a big camel, who paced lustily, and took long steps, but the ass, being in a hurry, stumbled every moment, and found that he had undertaken an impossible task. He asked the camel, 'How is it I wound my hoofs on the rocks so often, although I constantly look where I am stepping; whilst you, who apparently walk with leisure, never cast a glance at any of the obstacles you meet with, and never hurt yourself?' The camel replied: 'The reason is just because you are short-sighted and of weak intellect; you can look no further than your nose, and are, therefore, disappointed; whereas I look always forward, know the obstacles I am likely to encounter, scan the road to a great distance, and avoid the difficulties, selecting the easiest parts of the way.'" The wise hen said: "To be forewarned is to be forearmed, and this principle I follow." "I have narrated this story to show you that we must look forward, now that the time of laying eggs is at hand, because when our little ones are hatched it may again be too late to try and save them." 'The female partridge said: "This is all very well, but we might fare like the hungry fox who would have lost his life if the ichneumon had not interceded for him with the camel." The male said "How was that?" and the female continued: III. '"It is related that a certain fox had a fine large den, in which he collected provisions for the winter and for the summer, fared sumptuously, and never suffered from want. Once, however, a large army of ants invaded his domicile, and made short work of all the victuals he had carefully stored. This misfortune befel him just at a time when the weather happened to be very cold and food scarce, so that he began to feel the pangs of hunger. One morning, however, when he was about to sally forth from his den, he perceived, to his no small astonishment, at the mouth of it a camel kneeling, with the hinder part of his body turned towards him. The fox said to himself, 'Here is good luck,' and made a foolhardy attempt to drag the animal into the cave by tying a rope to its tail, and to commence pulling at it with all his might. To make sure of his prey the fox had tied the other end of the rope to his own body, but when he began to jerk it rather strongly the camel became vexed, jumped up suddenly, and first discharging both urine and dung upon Reynard, began to shake himself violently. The fox dangled in the air, and was repeatedly knocked against the flanks of the gigantic animal. Then the fox repented of his silly attempt to feast on camel meat, and knew that his death-knell would shortly sound. Luckily an ichneumon happened to be standing close by, amazed at the strange spectacle, and the fox implored it to intercede for him. Accordingly, the ichneumon addressed the camel in the following strain: 'Friend giant! it is meet that the strong, hoping for an eternal reward, should have mercy upon the weak! Here is a poor stranger who has accidentally become entangled with your tail. He will be strangled; you may save his life and become his deliverer by letting him go.' The camel then released the fox, who would assuredly have lost his life if the ichneumon had not interceded for him." When the male partridge had heard this story he fully approved of the moral of it, which is to the effect that ignorant and weak individuals are generally foiled in their designs against those who are powerful. He therefore considered that it would be best to throw themselves upon the mercy of the eagle, and said: "We must pay a visit to his majesty the eagle, explain our case to him, implore his mercy, and enroll ourselves among the number of his servants. We may succeed by gaining his favour; he is the king of all the birds, and carnivorous, but for all we know his disposition may be so merciful that he will spare our offspring not only himself, but order all the other birds of prey, his subjects, to do likewise." 'Then the she-partridge exclaimed: "Your advice is indeed wonderful! You propose nothing less than that we should court our own perdition, and of our own accord run into a trap! The eagle in treacherous, and would deal with us like the heron dealt with the little fish." The male said, "Please narrate the occurrence," and the female continued: IV. '"A heron had taken up his abode, and had lived for a long time near a brook on the little fishes there. At last, however, he became so old and weak that he was scarcely able to provide his daily food. He was once standing in a melancholy attitude on the bank of the streamlet, waiting for a chance to satisfy his hunger, when he happened to catch sight of a beautiful little fish disporting itself in the water, and mourned over his inability to get hold of it. The little fish perceived the heron standing immovable, and apparently taking not the least notice of it; therefore it gradually ventured to approach him, and asked the cause of his melancholy. The heron replied, 'I am reflecting upon the time of my youth which has passed away, the life I enjoyed, the pleasures I felt, all of which are irretrievably lost, and have left behind nothing but repentance for my sins, a weak body, and tottering limbs. I can now only regret the depredations I have committed, and wash away with my tears the stains of my transgressions. How often have I given occasion, both to little fishes and to eels, to deplore the loss of members of their families, which I had greedily devoured; but I have now repented, and shall henceforth do so no more.' When the little fish had heard this wonderful confession it asked: 'What can I do for you?' The heron replied: 'I want you only to convey this declaration of mine, with my salutations, to all your acquaintances, with the information that they may henceforth live in perfect safety, and need not apprehend any depredations on my part. There must, however, be covenants and pledges of security between us.' The little fish asked: 'How can I trust you, since I am the food on which you subsist, and you cannot be inclined to dispense with that.' He said: 'Take this grass and tie it round my neck for a sign that I shall not injure you.' Accordingly, the little fish took hold of a blade of grass, which was to serve for the heron's collar, who then placed his beak near the surface of the water to receive it, but as soon as the little fish had come within reach, the heron gobbled it up, and this was the end of the promised pledge. My dear husband, I have narrated this occurrence only to show that we would, by trusting to any promises of magnanimity that the eagle might make to us, only court our own perdition." 'In spite of all her objections, however, the she-partridge agreed at last to accompany her husband to the court of the eagle. They started together, travelled for some time, arrived at his abode, and made their obeisance to a courtier whose name was Yuyu, whom the male partridge addressed as follows: "Most noble lord, we are denizens of an adjoining mountain, where we lived happily till his majesty the eagle crushed all our hopes by making his appearance on our mountain with his court of birds of prey, destroyed our young on several successive occasions, and reduced us to despair. I proposed to my wife to emigrate, and she at last consented, so that we have now arrived here and placed ourselves under the wings of your protection."' Yuyu was pleased with these words, and replied: "I bid you welcome, and approve of your sagacity which induced you to seek a refuge at the court of our most noble sovereign. I must, however, tell you that although his disposition is righteous, he feeds upon the meat of animals, but when the weak and helpless crave his mercy, or implore his aid, he seldom disappoints them; those, on the contrary, who oppose or endeavour to deceive him must be prepared to fall under his wrath. He is honest and veracious, because he lives in solitude, and keeps aloof from intercourse with mankind, because all agree that the society of men crushes out all good qualities, and is productive of misery. You may now arise, and seek an audience from his majesty, because the opportunity will not present itself often. When you enter and make your obeisance you must watch his humour, which will be excellent if he has been successful in the chase. Then you will behold him social and chatting with his courtiers, whilst the nightingale, the heron, and other birds are singing and dancing for his amusement, and you can then introduce the subject of your petition. But if you behold him sitting dumb, with bloodshot eyes, or in an angry mood, say nothing if you value your life, and in any case, if you should perceive that silence is best, do not venture to speak." 'After this advice the partridge flew with Yuyu up to a lofty peak of the mountain, and alighted in a beautiful garden, fragrant with the perfume of flowers, where the eagle was sitting with his court, which consisted of birds of every species. Then Yuyu presented himself before his majesty, and craved an audience for the partridge, which, having been granted, he was admitted and spoke as follows: "Praise be to Allah, who has healed our wound and restored us to life! We lived in trouble and distress, but the justice of your majesty's government is the theme of every tongue; all our apprehensions have vanished, and we hope for security under the wings of your protection, because it is said that a noble Sultan is to his subjects like a kind father to his children, and protects them against all evils." 'The king replied: "You are welcome in this region; here you may live in safety among the best of neighbours, and I grant you protection." Accordingly, the partridge returned to his spouse, whom he informed of the condescension of his majesty, whose service both accordingly entered, and whose favour they afterwards gained, so that they lived happily to the end of their days.' The 'Merzubán námah' contains also several stories about Kesra Nausherwan the Just, and his minister Buzarjimehr, but they are not very interesting. The extracts given above sufficiently show the nature of this work, which puts into the mouths of animals how men and women ought to act under various circumstances, and it bears a strong resemblance in many ways to the 'Kalilah wa Dimnah.' Two stories have been selected from the celebrated Arabic work entitled 'Al--Mustatraf,' or 'The Gleaner,' or 'The Collector.' The full title of this work is 'Al-Mustatraf min kell finn al-mustazraf,' which may be translated thus: 'Gleanings from every kind of Elegant (or Pleasing) Composition.' The similarity of the first and last word of the title is attributable to the fondness of the Arabs for alliterative or rhyming titles. As there are several meanings attached to the word Mustatraf in the dictionaries, it might also be interpreted as 'The Book of Pleasing Novelties.' It contains an anthology of anecdotes, stories, proverbs, and elegant extracts by Shaikh Muhammad Bin Ahmad Al-Bashihi. The work is mentioned by Fluegel in his edition of Haji Khalfa's great work. I. Abbas, the chief of the police of the Khalif Mamun, said: 'One day I was present in an assembly of the Prince of the Faithful, before whom a man was standing heavily fettered with chains of iron. As soon as the Khalif perceived me he said: "Abbas, take good care of this man, and produce him again to-morrow." Accordingly I called for some of my people, and they carried him away, because he was so heavily shackled that he could scarcely move. Considering that I had been ordered to take every care of this prisoner, I concluded that I had better keep him in my own house, in a chamber of which I then confined him. I asked him what place he had come from, and on his replying that it was Damascus, I expressed my best wishes for the prosperity of that town, whereat he was astonished. I told him that I had been there, and asked him about a certain man; he said that he would like to know how I could be acquainted with him, and on my replying that I had had some business with him, he promised to satisfy my curiosity if I gave him first some information. Accordingly I made the following statement: "When I was with some other officials at Damascus the population rebelled against us, and even the governor was under the necessity of escaping by getting himself let down in a basket from his palace. I also fled, and whilst doing so the mob pursued me, and I ran into the house of the above-mentioned man, who was sitting at the door of it. I said to him: 'Help me and Allah will help you!' He received me kindly, and told his wife to put me into a certain room, whilst he remained sitting at the door. I had scarcely gone in when my pursuers likewise rushed in and insisted on searching the house, which they actually did, and would certainly have discovered me had not the man's wife kept them off from the room in which I sat trembling for my life. When the people at last dispersed, the man and his wife comforted me as much as they could, and hospitably entertained me in their house for four months, till every danger had passed away. When I was bold enough to go out and see what had become of my slaves, I found that they had all dispersed, and I asked my kind host to allow me to depart to Baghdad. He consented, but when the caravan was starting he insisted on presenting me with a horse, a slave, and all the provisions required for the journey. All these were surprises thrust upon me when I was about to start, and was wondering how I could possibly travel without any of these things. Moreover, during my whole sojourn this kind man had never asked me my name for fear that I might thereby be compromised. After I had safely arrived in Baghdad I desired many a time to show my gratitude to this man, but could obtain no information about him. I still desire to requite his services, and this is the reason why I was so anxious to learn something about him from you." 'After the man had listened to the above statement he said: "Verily, Allah has enabled you to requite the kindness of that man." I asked: "How can that be?" and he replied: "I am that man, but the trouble in which you see me has hindered you from recognising me." Then he reminded me of various circumstances, and so established his identity that I was perfectly convinced of it, and could not restrain myself from embracing him most fervently. To my inquiries how he had fallen into the calamity which had overtaken him, he replied: "A disturbance arose in Damascus similar to the rebellion which had broken out when you were there; the Prince of the Believers sent troops and suppressed it, but I, having been suspected as one of the ringleaders thereof, was captured by his command, brought as a prisoner to Baghdad, and considered to have forfeited my life, which I shall certainly lose. I left my family without taking leave, but a slave of mine has followed me here, and will carry back information about me. He is to be found at such and such a place, and if you will send for him I will give him the necessary instructions. I shall consider it a high favour, and as a reward for all the obligations under which you were to me." 'I told him to put his trust in Allah, and got a smith to relieve him first of his irons, then I made him enter the bath, provided him with good clothes, and sent for his slave, to whom he gave, with tears in his eyes, the message for his family. I then ordered my people to get ready several horses and mules, which I loaded with baggage and provisions, gave the man a bag of ten thousand dirhems, with another of five thousand dinars, and ordered my lieutenant to escort him on his journey to Damascus as far as Anbar.' But the man replied: "The Prince of the Believers considers that I have committed high treason, and will send troops to pursue me; I shall be recaptured and executed, and by allowing me to escape you will endanger your own life." I said: "Never mind what will became of me, but save your life, and I shall afterwards endeavour to save mine." He rejoined: "That shall not be, and I cannot leave Baghdad without knowing what has become of you." Seeing him determined in his purpose, I ordered my lieutenant to take him to a certain place in the town where he could remain in concealment till the next day, when he might be informed as to whether I had extricated myself from the difficulty, or had lost my life, in which latter case I should only have repaid him for having risked his in Damascus to save mine, and after that he could depart. 'The lieutenant had taken the man away, and I made preparations for my death, getting ready my winding-sheet in which my corpse was to be shrouded, when an official on the part of Mamun arrived with this message: "The Prince of the Faithful orders you to bring the man with you." Accordingly I hastened to the palace, where I found the Khalif sitting and expecting me. The first words he said to me were these: "I want to see the man!" I remained silent, and on his uttering them more emphatically, replied: "Will you please listen to me, O Commander of the Believers?" He continued: "I am determined to strike your head off if the man has fled." I said: "O Prince of the Faithful, the man has not escaped, but listen to what I have to say about him, and then you may act as you deem fit." He continued: "Speak!" Accordingly I narrated everything, and said that I was anxious to requite the man in some measure for all the good he had done to me, that I was desirous to save his life even at the cost of my own, if need be, and finished my explanation by showing the winding-sheet I had brought with me. After the Khalif had patiently listened, he exclaimed: "His merit is superior to yours, because he has treated you nobly without knowing you; whereas you only do so after having enjoyed his beneficence. I desire to reward him myself." "The man is here, and would not leave until apprized of my fate; I can produce him at once." The Khalif said: "This trait of his character is yet more noble; go, comfort the man, and bring him here." Accordingly I departed, and when I introduced the man to the Khalif, he received him kindly, offered him a seat, conversed with him till dinner was brought in, of which he made him partake in his own company. Lastly, the Khalif invested him with a robe of honour, and wished to appoint him Governor of Damascus, but this he humbly refused. Accordingly, Mamun presented him with ten horses saddled and bridled, ten mules caparisoned, and ten bags, each of which contained ten thousand dinars; he also gave him ten slaves, with animals to ride upon, and a letter to the Governor of Damascus to absolve him from the payment of taxes. This man afterwards corresponded with Mamun, and when a courier arrived from Damascus the Khalif used to say to me, "Abbas! a letter from your friend has arrived."' II. One night Harun-ar-Rashid was quite sleepless, and said to his vizier, Jaafar, the son of Yahya, the Barmekide: 'I cannot sleep this night; I feel oppressed, and do not know what to do.' The servant Masrur, who happened to be standing near, burst out laughing at these words, and the Khalif continued: 'What are you laughing for? Do you mock me or wish to show your levity?' Masrur said: 'I swear by your relationship to the Prince of Apostles that I have done this unwittingly; but last evening I was near the castle, and walked to the bank of the Tigris, where I saw many persons assembled around a man who made them laugh, and just now I recollected some of his words, which caused me to smile; his name is Ben Almugázeli, and I crave pardon from the Commander of the Faithful.' Then Rashid said: 'Bring him here this moment.' Accordingly Masrur went to Ben Almugázeli and said to him: 'The Commander of the Faithful wants you.' He replied: 'To hear is to obey!' And Masrur continued: 'But on the condition that if he presents you with anything, one-fourth of it will belong to you, and the rest to me.' The man rejoined: 'No, I must have one-third of it and you the other two-thirds.' Masrur would not agree to this proposal, but at last consented after a great deal of haggling. When he was admitted and had made his salutations, the Khalif said: 'If you make me laugh I shall give you five hundred dinars, but if not I shall give you three blows with this sock.' Now Ben Almugázeli said to himself: "What is the odds if I get three strokes with the sock?" because he thought it was empty. Accordingly he began to jest and to play tricks at which low people might have laughed, but not Rashid, who did not even smile. The man was first astonished, then grieved, and at last frightened when Rashid said: "Now you have deserved the blows." He then took up the sock and twisted it, but at the bottom there were some balls, each of which weighed two drachms. When he had struck Ben Almugázeli once, the latter yelled pitifully, but recollecting the condition Masrur had imposed upon him, he exclaimed: "Mercy, O Commander of the Faithful, listen to two words of mine." He said: "Speak what you like." The man continued: "I have promised Masrur to let him have two-thirds of the bounty I might receive, and to keep one-third for myself, and to this he agreed only after much bargaining. Now the Commander of the Faithful has decided that the bounty shall consist of three blows, of which my share would be one, and Masrur's two. I have received mine, and now is his turn to take his." Rashid laughed, called for Masrur, and struck him; Masrur groaned from pain, and said: "I present him with the remainder." The Khalif laughed and ordered them to be presented with one thousand dinars, of which each received five hundred, and Ben Almugázeli went away grateful.' In this work there are several other stories concerning various Khalifs, the Barmekide family, and other people, but the extracts given above are sufficient to show the nature of the volume. Two short anecdotes are taken from the 'Sihr-ul-oyoon,' or 'Magic of the eyes,' a work known to Haji Khalfa, and noted by Fluegel in his lexicon. This book contains seven chapters, with some drawings of the eye, and an appendix consisting entirely of poetry, which, however, is also interspersed throughout the work, excepting in the chapters treating on the anatomy, the infirmities of, and the remedies for the eye. I. Moghairah bin Shabah states that he never was so cunningly deceived as by a youth of the Benou-ul-Háreth. He intended to sue for the hand of a girl of that tribe, when this youth, who stood near him, said: 'O Amir, you have no need of her.' 'Why?' 'I saw a man kiss her.' Accordingly Moghairah went away, but heard some time afterwards that the said youth had married the girl himself. On meeting again Moghairah said to the youth: 'Did you not tell me that you had seen a man kiss her.' 'Certainly I did,' the young man replied, 'but that man was her father.' II. A man happened to find on the road a silver brooch, which women use for applying collyrium to their eyes. This pin was handsome, and he concluded that the girl who had lost it must have very beautiful eyes. He indulged so much in this fancy that he conceived an affection for the owner of the brooch, and was fond of showing the precious article to his acquaintances. One day a friend paid him a visit, and after the wine they had drunk had taken effect, he took out the said brooch according to his wont, kissed it, and wept over it. The friend, who knew the brooch, asked whence he had obtained it, but he replied: 'Pray do not question me, I am in love with the proprietress of it; my heart is melting, and it is so dear to me that I get jealous when other eyes beside my own look at it.' The friend said: 'I shall bring about a meeting between you and your mistress.' The other asked, 'Who could procure me that felicity?' The friend went away, but returned in a short time bearing a covered platter, which he placed before him, saying, 'Uncover this basin,' and lo! it contained a female head, weltering in its own gore, and on beholding it the man nearly fainted with grief. His friend, however, said: 'Be not dismayed, but tell me how you obtained this brooch, which I had presented to my wife, whose head is before you.' He replied that he had found the brooch on a certain day on the road, and described the spot, adding that he imagined the owner of it must be beautiful, and conceived a warm affection for her, but that he had never seen her face, and knew not who she might have been. The friend said: 'This is true enough, because she told me one day that she had lost it; hence no blame rests on you.' The two men parted; the would-be lover, however, took this melancholy event so much to heart that he not only repented of his folly, but died of grief. The following curious philosophic discourse is taken from the 'Siraj-ul-Mulûk,' or Lamp of Kings, a well-known work composed about A.D. 1126, and typographed at Cairo A.D. 1872: 'Allah, the Most High, has said (Koran, vi., verse 38): "There is no kind of beast on earth, nor fowl which flieth with its wing, but the same is a people like unto you." Allah the Most High has accordingly established a resemblance between us and all the animals. It is well known that they are not like us in their figures and forms as perceived by the eye, but in their demeanour; and there is not a human being who does not possess some qualities peculiar to animals. When you perceive that a man's character is unusual, you must endeavour to find out the qualities of the animal with which it may be compared, and judge of him according to these; and to avoid all misunderstanding, and to maintain intercourse with him, you must behave towards him in conformity with them. 'Accordingly, when you see an ignorant man of rude behaviour, strong in body, whose anger overpowers him at any moment, you are to compare him to a tiger, and there is an Arab proverb: "He is more stupid than a tiger." When you see a tiger, you avoid him, and do not fight with him, therefore towards an individual of this kind you must behave in the same manner. 'When you observe a man wantonly attacking the reputation of others, compare him to a dog, because it is his nature. When a dog barks at you it does not trouble you much, and you go your own way. You must deal in this manner with such men, because they are like dogs who assault others without any provocation. 'When you perceive that a man's nature is to say "Yes" when you say "No," and "No" if you say "Yes," compare him to an ass, because when you approach him he recedes, and when you move away he will move towards you. You must put up with your donkey, and neither separate from him nor insult him. Deal in the same way with such a person. 'When you perceive a man searching out the weaknesses or shortcomings of people, compare him to a fly, which settles on a carcase, and then gluts itself with the vilest parts of it, such as the rotten flesh and the filthy offal. 'When you observe a Sultan taking the lives, and confiscating the property of his subjects, consider him to be a lion, and be on your guard that he does not injure you. 'When you see a wicked man full of tricks and boastings, compare him to a fox. 'If you happen to meet with a tale-bearer who foments enmity among friends, consider him to be a "Zeriban," which is a small beast of fetid smell, so that when two persons fall out with each other, the Arabs say that "a Zeriban has passed between them." It is, indeed, the peculiarity of this animal that an assembly disperses when it enters, accordingly it is driven off as soon as perceived, and a tale-bearer ought to be dealt with similarly. 'When you observe that a man loathes to listen to intelligent conversation, and hates meetings of learned men, but is fond of gossip, all kinds of nonsense, and scandals of society, compare him to the May-bug, which delights in impure exhalations, and loves dunghills, but hates the perfumes of musk or of roses, which actually kill it when sprinkled upon it. 'If you meet an individual displaying a great deal of piety outwardly, but always intriguing to acquire property, to enrich himself by unrighteous means, and to cheat widows and orphans, consider him to be a wolf: "The wolf is so devout; You see him on his knees, He nicely prays and sighs. But when his game is near, He falls upon it speedily And tears it all to pieces." 'When you discover a liar consider him to be like a dead man, who can give no information, and with whom no one can associate. A liar may also be compared to an ostrich which buries all its eggs in the sand, but leaves one upon the surface, and one close under it, whilst all the others are deeply concealed. When an inexperienced man perceives that egg he takes it, and perhaps also the one close below it, and after scraping up the sand a little, and finding nothing more goes away; whilst a person who knows this habit of the ostrich does not stop searching until he has got possession of all the eggs. You must deal in the same manner with a liar, and not believe him till you get to the bottom of his story, i.e. until you elicit the actual truth. 'When you observe that a man's whole attention is absorbed in endeavours to make a good appearance by keeping his clothes nice, and apprehensive lest they should be dirtied in any way, always picking any little straws that might adhere to them, and constantly adjusting his turban, consider him to be a peacock, whose nature is always to admire his own person, to stalk about majestically, to display the plumage of his tail, and to solicit praise of his beauty. 'If you become acquainted with a rancorous person who never forgets the slightest insult, but avenges himself for it even after a considerable lapse of time, compare him to a camel, for the Arabs truly say of such a man that "he is more rancorous than a camel." Avoid such a man as you would an ill-natured camel. 'When you meet a hypocrite, who is different from what he appears to be, compare him to the Yarbu, _i.e._ the mouse of the desert, which has two apertures to its lair, the one for an entrance, and the other for an exit, so that it always cheats the hunter who digs for it.' Yet another story-book may be quoted, viz., the 'Ilam en Nâs,' or Warnings for Men, containing historical tales and anecdotes of the time of the early Khalifates. Some of these were translated by Mrs. Godfrey Clerk in 1873 (King and Co.), and her little volume also contains a very good genealogical table of the families of the Prophet, and of the Rashidin (or 'rightly directed,' _i.e._ Abu Bakr, Omar, Othman, and Ali), the Omaiyide, and the Abbaside Khalifs. Among the many works of Arabic literature one of the most interesting and the most amusing is Ibn Khallikan's celebrated Biographical Dictionary. The author must have been a very intelligent and a very industrious man, for his volumes contain an enormous amount of information about many hundred Arabs. This work is rendered all the more readable and all the more amusing by the many anecdotes related in connection with their lives, and a few of these stories are now given below. I. Ibn Abbas, son of Abbas, uncle of Muhammad, was one of the ablest interpreters of the Koran. It was owing to his efforts that the study of the poems, composed before the introduction of Islamism, became of such importance to the Muslims, for he frequently quoted verses of the ancient poets in proof of the explanation he gave of different passages of the Koran, and he used to say: 'When you meet with a difficulty in the Koran look for its solution in the poems of the Arabs, for these are the registers of the Arabic nation.' On being asked how he had acquired his extensive knowledge, he replied: 'By means of an inquiring tongue and an intelligent heart.' It may here perhaps be stated that the Koran, composed avowedly in the purest Arabic, offered many difficulties to those who were not acquainted with the idiom of the desert Arabs, a race who alone spoke the language in its perfection. The study of the ancient poets was therefore considered as necessary for the intelligence of the Koran, and their poems, often obscure from the intricacy of their construction and their obsolete terms, required the assistance of grammatical analysis and philology to render them comprehensible. II. Ibn Faris Ar-Razi, the Philologist, is the author of these verses: 'Well, some things succeed and some fail: when my heart is filled with cares I say: "One day perhaps they may be dispelled." A cat is my companion; books the friends of my heart; and a lamp my beloved consort.' III. Badi Az-Zaman al-Hamadani, the author of some beautiful epistles and excellent essays, which last Hariri took as a model in the composition of his, wrote as follows about death: 'Death is awful till it comes, and then it is found light; its touch seems grating till felt, and then it is smooth; the world is so hostile and its injustice so great that death is the lightest of its inflictions, the least of its wrongs. Look, then, to the right; do you see aught but affliction? Look to the left; do you see aught but woe?' IV. Abu Wathila Iyas Al-Kadi was renowned for his excessive acuteness of mind, observation, and penetration. Many stories are told about him in connection with these qualities, which are really astonishing. It is related of him that he said: 'I was never worsted in penetration but by one man: I had taken my seat in the court of judgment at Busra, when a person came before me and gave testimony that a certain garden, of which he mentioned the boundaries, belonged to a man whom he named. As I had some doubts of his veracity, I asked him how many trees were in that garden, and he said to me, after a short silence: "How long is it since our lord the Kadi has been giving judgment in this hall?" I told him the time. "How many beams," said he, "are there in the roof?" On which I acknowledged that he was in the right, and I received his testimony.' V. It is a curious circumstance that Homer the Greek poet, Radaki the Persian poet, and Bashshar bin Burd the Arabian poet, were all blind. Here is a specimen of one of the verses of the last-named: 'Yes, my friends! my ear is charmed by a person in that tribe; for the ear is sometimes enamoured sooner than the eye. You say that I am led by one whom I never saw; know that the ear as well as the eye can inform the mind of facts.' He composed also the following verse, which is the most gallant of any made by the poets of that epoch: 'Yes, by Allah! I love the magic of your eyes, and yet I dread the weapons by which so many lovers fell.' VI. Several sayings of Al-Hasan bin Sahl, the vizier to the Khalif Al-Mamun, have been preserved. Once he himself wrote at the end of a letter of recommendation, dictated to his secretary: 'I have been told that on the day of judgment a man will be questioned respecting the use he made of the influence given him by his rank in the world, in the same manner as he will be questioned respecting the use he made of the superfluity of his wealth.' Again he said to his sons: 'My sons, learn the use of language; it is by it that man holds his preeminence over other animals; the higher the skill which you attain in the use of language, the nearer you approach to the ideal of human nature.' VII. It is related of Sari-as Sakati, the celebrated Sufi, that he said that for twenty years he never ceased imploring Divine pardon for having once exclaimed, 'Praise be to God!' and on being asked the reason he said: 'A fire broke out in Baghdad, and a person came up to me and told me that my shop had escaped, on which I uttered these words; and even to this moment I repent of having said so, because it showed that I wished better to myself than to others.' VIII. Al-Ahnaf bin Kais, whose prudence was proverbial among the Arabs, used to say: 'I have followed three rules of conduct, which I now mention merely that the man of reflection may profit by my example--I never interfered between two parties unless invited by them to do so; I never went to the door of these people (meaning princes) unless sent for by them; and I never rose from my place to obtain a thing when all men were anxious to possess it.' IX. Abu Yazid Taifur al-Bastaimi, the famous ascetic, being asked how he had acquired his knowledge of the spiritual world, answered that it was by means of a hungry belly and naked body. He used to say: 'When you see a man possessing miraculous powers, so as even to mount into the air, let not that deceive you, but see if he observes God's commands and prohibitions, if he keeps within the bounds imposed by religion, and if he performs the duties which it prescribes.' X. Abul Aswad ad-Duwali, the inventor of grammar, in intelligence one of the most perfect of men, and in reason one of the most sagacious, was notorious for his avarice, and he used to say: 'If we listened to the demands made by the poor for our money, we should soon be worse off than they.' He said also to his sons: 'Strive not to rival Almighty God in generosity, for He is the most bountiful and the most glorious; had He pleased He would have given ample wealth to all men, so strive not to be generous lest you die of starvation.' It is also related that Abul Aswad had an attack of the palsy, and that he used to go to the market himself, though scarcely able to draw his legs after him, and yet he was rich, and possessed both male and female slaves. A person who knew this accosted him one day, and said: 'God has dispensed you from the necessity of moving about on your own business, why do you not remain seated at home?' To which he replied: 'No; I go in and out, and the eunuch says "He is coming," and the boy says "He is coming," whereas, were I to continue sitting in the house, the sheep would urine upon me without any person's preventing them.' XI. It is related that on a dispute between the Sunnites and Shiites of Baghdad about the relative merits of Abu Bakr and Ali, both parties agreed to abide by the opinion of the Shaikh Abul Faraj bin Al-Jauzi. They consequently deputed a person, who questioned him on the subject when he was seated in the preacher's chair. The one reply which he made bears in Arabic two different meanings--the first, that the best of them was he whose daughter was married to the other man; and the second, that the best of them was he who had married the daughter of the other man. He then withdrew promptly, lest he should be questioned further, and the Sunnites said: 'He means Abu Bakr, because his daughter Ayesha was married to the Prophet,' 'Nay,' said the Shiites, 'he means Ali, because Fatima, the Prophet's daughter, was married to him.' The answer was certainly very clever; had it even been the result of long reflection and deep consideration, it would have been admirable, but coming as it did without any previous preparation, it was still more so. XII. Shibab Ad-Din (flambeau of the faith) as-Suhrawardi was a pious and holy Shaikh, most assiduous in his spiritual exercises, and the practice of devotion, and successfully guided a great number of Sufis in their efforts to obtain perfection. Many persons wrote to him for his opinion on circumstances which concerned themselves, and one wrote as follows: 'My lord,--If I cease to work I shall remain in idleness, and if I work I am filled with self-satisfaction; which is best?' To this the Shaikh replied: 'Work, and ask Almighty God to pardon thy self-satisfaction.' The following is one of his verses: 'If I contemplate you, I am all eyes; and if I think of you I am all heart.' XIII. Abu Ali Al-Jubbai was an able master in the science of dogmatic theology, and had at one time a pupil named Abul Hasan Al-Ashari. It is related that one day the two had the following discussion. Al-Ashari propounded to his master the case of three brothers, one of whom was a true believer, virtuous and pious; the second an infidel, a debauchee, and a reprobate; and the third an infant; they all died, and Al-Ashari wished to know what had become of them. To this Al-Jubbai answered: 'The virtuous brother holds a high position in Paradise, the infidel is in the depths of hell, and the child is among those who have obtained salvation.' 'Suppose now,' said Al-Ashari, 'that the child should wish to ascend to the place occupied by his virtuous brother, would he be allowed to do so?' 'No,' replied Al-Jubbai, 'it would be said to him: "Thy brother arrived at this place through his numerous works of obedience towards God, and thou hast no such works to set forward."' 'Suppose, then,' said Al-Ashari, 'that the child say, "That is not my fault; you did not let me live long enough, neither did you give me the means of proving my obedience."' 'In that case,' answered Al-Jubbai, 'the Almighty would say: "I knew that if I allowed thee to live thou wouldst have been disobedient, and incurred the severe punishment of hell; I therefore acted for thy advantage."' 'Well,' said Al-Ashari, 'and suppose the infidel brother were here to say: "O God of the Universe! since you knew what awaited him, you must have known what awaited me; why, then, did you act for his advantage and not for mine?"' Al-Jubbai had not a word to offer in reply. This discussion proves that the Almighty elects some for mercy, and others for punishment, and that his acts are not the results of any motive whatsoever. XIV. It is related that As-Shafi said: 'There are five men on whom people must rely for the nourishment of their minds: he who wishes to become learned in jurisprudence must have recourse to Abu Hanifah; he who desires to become skilled in poetry must apply to Zoheir bin Ali Sulma, the author of one of the Mua'llakas, or suspended poems at Mecca; he who would like to become well acquainted with the history of the Muslim conquests must obtain his information from Muhammad bin Ishak; he who wishes to become deeply learned in grammar must have recourse to Al-Kisai; and he who seeks to be acquainted with the interpretations of the Koran must apply to Mukatil bin Sulaiman.' XV. There are several stories current as to how the Khalif Omar bin Al-Khattab took upon himself the title of 'Commander of the Faithful.' One is that Omar was one day holding a public sitting, when he said: 'By Allah! I do not know what we must say. Abu Bakr was the successor of the Apostle of God, and I am the successor of the successor of God's Apostle. Is there any title that can answer?' Those who were present said: 'Commander (Amir) will do.' 'Nay,' said Omar, 'you are all commanders.' On this Al-Mughira said: 'We are the faithful, and you are our Commander.' 'Then,' said Omar, 'I am the Commander of the Faithful.' XVI. Abu Ali Yahya, the vizier of Harun-ar-Rashid, was the son of Khalid, and the grandson of Barmek. Yahya was highly distinguished for wisdom, nobleness of mind, and elegance of language. One of his sayings was: 'Three things indicate the degree of intelligence possessed by him who does them: the bestowing of gifts, the drawing up of letters, and the acting as ambassador.' He used to say to his sons: 'Write down the best things which you hear; learn by heart the best things which you write down; and in speaking utter the best things which you have learned by heart.' XVII. Ibn As-Sikkit, the philologist, related that Muhammad bin As-Summak used to say: 'He who knows mankind humours them; he who has not that knowledge thwarts them; and the main point in humouring mankind is to abstain from thwarting them.' The neglect of carrying out this maxim cost As-Sikkit his life. One day, whilst he was with the Khalif Al-Mutwakkil, that prince's two sons, Al-Motazz and Al-Muwaiyad, came in, and the Khalif said to him: 'Tell me, Yakub, which you like best--these two sons of mine, or Al-Hasan and Al-Hussain, the sons of Ali.' Ibn As-Sikkit answered by depreciating the merits of the two princes, and giving to Al-Hasan and Al-Hussain the praise to which they were well entitled. On this Al-Mutwakkil ordered his Turkish guards to chastise him, and they threw him down and trod on his belly. He was then carried to his house, where he died two days afterwards, A.D. 859. XVIII. Three men met together; one of them expressed a wish to obtain a thousand pieces of gold, so that he might trade with them; the other wished for an appointment under the Emir of the Muslims; the third wished to possess the Emir's wife, who was the handsomest of women, and had great political influence. Yusuf bin Tashifin, the Emir of the Muslims, being informed of what they said, sent for the men, bestowed one thousand dinars on him who wished for that sum, gave an appointment to the other, and said to him who wished to possess the lady: 'Foolish man! what induced you to wish for that which you can never obtain?' He then sent him to her, and she placed him in a tent, where he remained three days, receiving each day, one and the same kind of food. She had him then brought to her, and said: 'What did you eat these days past?' He replied: 'Always the same thing.' 'Well,' said she, 'all women are the same thing!' She then ordered some money and a dress to be given him, after which she dismissed him. The following anecdotes have been gathered from various sources. I. A certain shepherd had a dog of which he was very fond, and which having, to his great grief, died, was buried by him with every mark of affection and regret. The Kadi of the village, whose ill-will the shepherd had in some way incurred, hearing of this, ordered him to be brought before him on the serious charge of profanity in having mocked the ceremonies of the Muhammadan religion, and buried an unclean animal with sacred rites. On being asked what he had to say in his defence, the prisoner thus addressed the magistrate: 'If your reverence will be pleased to hear my story, you will, I am sure, excuse me. My dog's mother died when he was quite a puppy, and he was brought up by a she-goat of my flock, who adopted him. When she died in her turn she left him all her property, consisting of several fine young kids. Now when my dog was taken ill, and found himself at the point of death, I asked him what I should do with the kids which belonged to him, and he replied: "Give them to his reverence the Kadi." I thought the animal so sensible for this that I gave him Muslim burial.' 'Quite right,' said his reverence. 'What else was the lamented deceased pleased to observe?' II. A knowledge of the language of birds and beasts is regarded as the greatest divine gift, and was expressly vouchsafed, according to the Koranic legend, to Solomon, the son of David. It is related that one day Solomon was returning to his palace when he saw a cock and hen sparrow sitting near the gateway, and overheard the former telling the latter that he was the person who had designed, and planned, and built all the surroundings. On hearing this Solomon remarked to the male bird that he must know he was telling a fearful lie, and that nobody would believe him. 'That is true,' replied the sparrow, 'nobody probably will believe my story except my wife; she believes implicitly everything that I say.' III. One day a king was sailing in a boat with a negro slave, who was so seasick that his groans and lamentations disturbed the royal repose. A doctor who happened to be present undertook to keep the slave quiet, and, on receiving permission to do so, ordered him to be thrown overboard, which was promptly done. The poor wretch managed with difficulty to catch hold of the rudder of the boat, and, being taken on board once more, sat shivering in a corner, and did not utter another sound. The king, delighted with this result, asked the doctor how he had silenced the fellow. 'Your Majesty will see,' was the reply, 'he had never before experienced the inconvenience of being drowned, and did not properly appreciate the security of a boat.' IV. One day the Khalif Harun-ar-Rashid and his jester, the poet Abu Nuwas, were disputing as to the truth of an axiom laid down by Abu Nuwas, that 'an excuse was often worse than the crime,' and the poet offered to convince the monarch of it before the night was over. The Khalif, with a grim humour peculiarly his own, promised to take off his jester's head if he failed to do so, and went out in a rage. After awhile Harun came in a somewhat surly temper to his harem, and the first thing which greeted him was a kiss from a rough-bearded face. On calling out violently for a light and an executioner, he found that his assailant was Abu Nuwas himself. 'What on earth, you scoundrel, do you mean by this conduct?' asked the enraged Sovereign. 'I beg your Majesty's most humble pardon,' said Abu Nuwas, 'I thought it was your Majesty's favourite wife.' 'What!' shrieked Harun, 'why the excuse is worse than the crime.' 'Just what I promised to prove to your Majesty,' replied Abu Nuwas, and retired closely followed by one of the imperial slippers. V. An Arab whose camel had strayed swore an oath that he would, on finding it, sell it for one dirhem. When he had again obtained possession of the animal he repented of his oath, but tied a cat to the neck of the camel and shouted: 'Who will buy a camel for one dirhem, and a cat for a hundred dirhems? But I will not sell them separately.' A man who was there said: 'How cheap would this camel be if it had no collar on the neck!' Something of the same kind happened in France the other day. A peasant died, leaving his property to be sold by his wife. Among other things there was a dog and a horse, which the woman put up for sale together, saying that the dog's price was twenty pounds, and the horse's one pound, but that they must be sold together. It turned out that the deceased husband had left the dog to his wife, and the horse to another relation, the monies realized by the sale of each to be paid to the respective parties. VI. An Arab of the desert said to his boy: 'O son! on the day of resurrection thou wilt be asked what merit thou hast gained, and not from whom thou art descended; that is to say, thou wilt be asked what thy merit is, and not who thy father was.' VII. A learned man relates the following: 'I stood with a friend on a road conversing with him when a woman halted opposite to me, looking at me steadfastly. When this staring had passed all bounds, I despatched my slave to ask the woman what she was listening to. He came back and reported that the woman had said: "My eyes had committed a great sin. I intended to inflict a punishment upon them, and could devise none worse than looking at that hideous face."' There are some good verses in the Arabic descriptive of the places where certain Arabs wished to be buried. It was Abu Mihjan, the Thackifite, who chose the vineyard. 'Bury me, when I die, by the roots of the vine, The moisture thereof will distil into my bones; Bury me not in the open plain, for then I much fear That no more again shall I taste the flavour of the grape.' Another version: 'When the Death angel cometh mine eyes to close, Dig my grave 'mid the vines on the hill's fair side; For though deep in earth may my bones repose, The juice of the grape shall their food provide. Oh, bury me not in a barren land, Or Death will appear to me dread and drear! While fearless I'll wait what he hath in hand If the scent of the vineyard my spirit cheer.' On the other hand, some of the wild people prefer the hill slopes, and an example is given in the address of the dying Bedouin to his tribe: 'O bear with you my bones where the camel bears his load, And bury me before you, if buried I must be; And let me not be buried 'neath the burden of the vine, But high upon the hill whence your sight I ever see! As you pass along my grave cry aloud, and name your names, The crying of your names shall revive the bones of me, I have fasted through my life with my friends, and in my death I will feast when we meet on that day of joy and glee.' The French poet, Alfred de Musset's, gentle verses in his elegy to Lucie, and which have been engraved on his tomb in Paris, at Père-Lachaise, run as follows: 'When I shall die, dear friends, aslant My silent grave a willow plant; I love its foliage weeping near, To me its colour's sweet and dear; Its shadow gray will lightly fall Upon my tomb--a mourning pall, And will likewise do the keeping Of the ground where I am sleeping.' APPENDIX. LIST OF TRANSLATIONS _Published under the patronage of the Old Oriental Translation Fund_. =From the Persian=. 1. Memoirs of the Emperor Jehanghir. 2. History of the Afghans. 3. The Adventures of Hatim Tai. 4. The Life of Sheikh Muhammad Ali Hazin. 5. Autobiographical Memoirs of the Moghul Emperor Timur. 6. The Life of Hafiz ul Mulk Hafiz Rehmut Khan. 7. The Geographical Works of Sadik Isfahani. 8. Firdusi's Shah Nameh. 9. Private Memoirs of the Moghul Emperor Humayun. 10. History of the Mahomedan Power in India during the Last Century. 11. Customs and Manners of the Women of Persia. 12. Mirkhond's History of the Early Kings of Persia. 13. The Political and Statistical History of Guzerat. 14. Chronique d'Abou Djafar Muhammad Tabari. 15. Laili and Majnun. 16. Practical Philosophy of the Mahomedan People. 17. Specimens of the Popular Poetry of Persia. 18. History of Hyder Naik, otherwise called Nuwab Hyder Ali. 19. The Dabistan, or School of Manners. 20. History of the Reign of Tipu Sultan. 21. Historical Memoirs of Early Conquerors of Hindustan, and Founders of the Ghaznavide Dynasty. =From the Arabic=. 1. The Travels of Ibn Batuta. 2. Travels of Marcarius, Patriarch of Antioch. 3. The Algebra of Muhammad Ben Musa. 4. History of the First Settlement of the Mahomedans in Malabar. 5. Alfiyya, ou la Quintessence de la Grammaire Arabe. 6. Haji Khalfæ Lexicon Encyclopædicum et Bibliographicum. 7. The History of the Temple of Jerusalem. 8. Histoire des Sultans Mamelouks de l'Égypte. 9. The History of the Mahomedan Dynasties in Spain. 10. El-Mas'udi's Historical Encyclopædia, entitled 'Meadows of Gold and Mines of Gems.' 11. Ibn Khallikan's Biographical Dictionary. 12. Makamat, or Rhetorical Anecdotes of Abul Kasem al Hariri of Basra. 13. The Chronology of Ancient Nations, by Albiruni. =From the Sanscrit=. 1. Kalidasæ Raghuvansa Carmen. 2. Harivansa, ou Histoire de Famille de Hari. 3. The Sánkhya Káriká, or Memorial Verses on the Sánkhya Philosophy. 4. Rig Yeda Sanhita. 5. Kumara Sambhava. 6. The Vishnu Purana, a System of Hindu Mythology and Tradition. 7. Sama Veda. 8. Kalidasa, the Birth of the War God. =From the Chinese=. 1. Han Koong Tsew, or the Sorrows of Hen--a Tragedy. 2. The Fortunate Union--A Romance. 3. Hoe Lan Ki--A Drama. 4. Le Livre des Récompenses et des Peines. 5. Mémoires sur les Contrées occidentales. =From The Japonais-Chinois=. 1. San Kokf Tsou Ban To Sets; ou, Aperçu général des trois Royaumes. 2. Annales des Empereurs du Japon. =From the Turkish=. 1. History of the War in Bosnia during 1837-38-39. 2. History of the Maritime Wars of the Turks. 3. Annals of the Turkish Empire, A.D. 1591 to 1659. 4. Narratives of Travels in Europe, Asia, and Africa. =From the Armenian=. 1. The History of Vartan, and of the Battle of the Armenians. 2. Chronique de Matthieu d'Edesse. =From The Cingalese=. 1. Yakkun Nattannawa and Kolan Nattannawa, two Cingalese poems. =From the Coptic=. 1. The Apostolic Constitutions, or Canons of the Apostles. =From the Ethiopic=. 1. The Didascalia, or Apostolical Constitutions of the Abyssinian Church. =From the Hebrew=. 1. The Chronicles of Rabbi Joseph Ben Joshua Ben Meir. =From the Hindustani=. 1. Les Aventures de Kamrup. =From the Malay=. 1. Memoirs of a Malayan Family. =From the Maghadi=. 1. The Kalpa Sutra and Nava Tatva. Two works illustrative of the Jain Religion and Philosophy. =From the Syriac=. 1. Spicilegium Syriacum; containing remains of Bardesan, Meliton, Ambrose, and Mara Bar Serapion. =Miscellaneous=. 1. Miscellaneous Translations, two volumes, 1831-34. 2. Translations from the Chinese and Armenian. 3. A Description of the Burmese Empire. 4. Essay on the Architecture of the Hindus. 5. Histoire de la Littérature Hindoui et Hindustani. 6. Biographical Notices of Persian Poets. 7. The Poems of the Huzailis, edited in Arabic. INDEX. A. Aasha (Al), the poet, 30, 77, 82 Abbas, uncle of Muhammad, 3,7 Abbasides, the, 7, 12 Abbaside Khalifs, the most celebrated, 12,96 Abbaside Khalifs, list of, 19 Abd-al-Hamid, the secretary, 95 Abd-Allah bin Hilal, the translator, 90 Abd-Allah bin Rewaha, the poet, 34 Abd-Allah bin Zobeir, the politician, 34 Abd-ar-Rahman I. of Spain, 8 Abd-ar-Rahman II. of Spain, 9 Abd-ar-Rahman III. of Spain, 9, 11, 102 Abdul-Muttalib, grandfather of Muhammad, 120, 121 Abdul Wahab, the reformer, 16 Abode of Wisdom, 106 Abraham, the father of three religions, 144 Abu Awana, the traditionist, 38 Abu Bakr, the Khalifah, 4, 18, 123, 137, 147 Abu Bakr as Sauli, the editor of poems, 77, 83, 84, 101 Abu Hatim es Sejastani, the philologist, editor of poems and author, 76 Abu Nuwas, the poet, 77, 79-82 Abu Obaida, the general, 4 Abu Obaida, the philologist, 60, 61 Abu Othman, the philologist, 62, 76 Abu Sa'ud, the mufti, 112 Abu Sofyan, the politician and Companion, 34, 137 Abu Sulaiman Dawud ez Zahari, the imam, 38 Abu Tammam, the poet, 76,77 Abu Thaleb, uncle of Muhammad, 121, 125 Abu Zaid, the traditionist, 38 Abu Zaid bin Aus, the editor of poems, 76 Abul Abbas as Saffah, 7, 19 Abul Aina, the philologist, 63 Abul Ala-al-Maari, the philologist and poet, 84 Abul Atahya, the poet, 77, 78 Abul Faraj, the historian, 97 Abul Faraj al Ispahani, 77, 83, 84, 87 Abul Feda, the historian, 97, 108, 109 Abul Khair, or Ahmed bin Mustafa, 55, 113, 115 Abul Mashar (Albumasar), the astronomer, 24, 42 Ahmed-bin-ud Dmveri, the author, 58 Akhfash (Al), the grammarian, 49 Akhtal (Al), the poet, 77, 78, 82 Alchemists, 40 (Khalid bin Yazid, Jaafar as Sadik, Jaber bin Hayam, each indexed separately.) Ali bin Abu Thaleb, the Khalifah, 5, 6, 19, 123, 127 Ali bin Ridhwan, the philosopher, 65, 69, 70 Ali bin Yunis, the astronomer, 43 Amina, mother of Muhammad, 121 Amr bin Al-Aasi, the general, 4, 129, 147 Amra-al-Kais (Amriolkais), the poet, 28, 79, 80 Amru, the poet, 29 Analysis of twelve stories from the 'Arabian Nights,' 157-174 Anbari (Al), the grammarian, 49 Anecdotes, eighteen from Ibn Khalhkan's Biographical Dictionary, 217-228 Anecdotes from various sources, 228 Animal fables and stories, 153, 156 Ansari (Al), the philologist, 62 'Antar,' a Bedouin romance, 184, 185 Antara, the poet, 28 Arab verses about burial places, 233 Arabia, description of, 1, 2; history of, 2; detached from the Abbasides, 15; semi-independent, 16; Turkish dealings with, 16; Wahhabi movement in 16; Egyptian dealings with, 17; Wahhabism in 17; present government of, 17; future prospects of 18 Arabian learning, 10, 24 'Arabian Nights,' The. Date of their commencement 152, 153; the oldest part of the work, 153; the oldest tales and stories, 154; the remaining ones, 154; the sources from which they sprang, 152, 180; many authors composed the work, 153-180; compared with the 'Kathá Sarit Ságara', 181; remarks on the 'Nights' and 'Antar,' 186; Galland's translation of, 154, 175, 176; Payne's, 155, and Burton's 155; stories from, 157-174 Arabic language, 23, 24 Arabic literature, decline of, 117, 118 its former position, 117; its present state, 118 Arabic literature, translation of, vii. Arabic story books, 151, 152, 184, 188, 192, 201, 210, 212, 216 Asmai (Al), the philologist, 60, 61, 62 Asmai (Al), supposed author of 'Antar,' 184 Astronomers, 41 (Fezari (Al), Abul Mashar, Farghani (Al), Battani (Al), Ali bin Yunis, Es-Zerkel, each indexed separately.) Ayesha, third wife of Muhammad, 4, 38, 125, 126, 128, 137, 138 Az-zahra, mistress or wife of Abd-ar-Rahman III. of Spain, 12 B. Badger (Rev. G.P.), on Muhammad, 120 Badger (Rev. G.P.), about the Koran, 140 Badr, battle of, 127 Baghdad, founding of, 12; description of 96; fall and conquest of, 12 Baital Pachesi, 183 Baladori (Al), the translator and chronicler, 91 Barmekides, The, 12, 98-101 Bashshar bin Burd, the poet, 77, 78 Battani (Al), or Albategnius, the astronomer, 25, 43 Bekri (Al), the traveller and geographer, 49, 50, 52 Benjamin's (Mr.) 'Persia and the Persians,' 6 Beruni (Al), the traveller and geographer, 49, 50, 51 Biblos, or Book, or Bible, 139; the work of many men, 139; its increased interest after visiting Egypt, Palestine and Syria, 139; can be read in various ways, 139; its description by 'Il Secolo,' 140 as a scientific work of little value, 140 Birgeli, or Birkeli, the dogmatist and grammarian, 112 Bohtori (Al), the poet, 76, 77, 84 Boulak (Cairo) text of the 'Nights,' 156, 180 Breslau (Tunis) text of the 'Nights', 156, 174, 175, 180 Buddha, 119 Buddha compared with Jesus, 142, 143 Buddhism and Christianity, 142 Buddhist birth stories, or Jataka tales, 184 Bujeir bin Zoheir, the poet, 32 Bukhari (Al), the traditionist, 38, 39 Burton (Richard F.), description of his 'Nights' translation in Sixteen volumes, 155, 156, 175-180 Busiri (Al)'s poem of the Mantle, 21, note C. Calcutta texts of the 'Nights' 156, 175, 180 Calligraphers 113 (Ibn Mukla, Ibn Al Bawwab, Yakut Al Mausili, Ibn Hilal, Hamdallah, Mir Ah, Muhammad Hussain Tabrizi, each indexed separately) Casiri, the bibliographer, 11 Caussin de Perceval, 26, 78, 155 Chavis and Cazotte, the translators, 155, 178, 179 Chinese language, 23 Christianity and Buddhism, 142 Clerk (Mrs. Godfrey), 216 Clouston, W.A., 29, 184 Companions of the Prophet, 39 Compilers of encyclopædias and biographies, 55 (Nadim (An), Ibn Khallikan, Abul Khair, Haji Khalfa, each indexed separately.) Contents of this work, ix.-xiv. Cordova, 7, 8, 9, 11 Cromwell and the Bible, 140 D. Democracy of Islam, 149 Dow, a translator, 154 Duwali (Ad), the grammarian, 45, 46 E. Early Ideas,' a group of Hindoo stories, 151,181 Egypt, the Fatimites established in, 13; invasion of, by Jawhar, 13; conquest of, by Saladin, 13; other dynasties in, 13; conquest of, by Selim the First, 14; incorporated with Turkey, 14 English newspapers, 186 English tales and stories, 186 Epistolography, 95 Erpenius, a translator, 26, 97 Essays and discourses by Hariri, 87, 88 Es-Zerkel, or Arzachel, the astronomer, 44, 45 F. Fadhl bin Yahya, the Barmekide, 99, 100 Farabi (Al), or Alfarabius, the philosopher, 24, 25, 65, 66, 67 Farazdak, the poet, 77, 78 Farghani (Al), or Alfraganius, the astronomer, 24, 25, 42 Farra (Al), the grammarian, 48 Fatimites, The, 13 Fezari (Al), the astronomer, 41 Firuzabadi, the lexicographer, 110 Fluegel, the translator, 115, 193, 202, 210 France, Invasion of, by the Arabs, 7 Freytag, the translator, 27 G. Gabriel bin Georgios, the physician, 73, 74 Galland, his translation of the fables of Lokman and Bidpay, 26; and of the 'Nights,' 154, 175, 176; his biography, by Burton, 154; his texts, 180 Gauttier, a translator, 155 Gayangos (Pascual de), the translator 10, 11, 22, 117 Geographers and travellers, 49 (Muslim Homeir, Mervezi (Al), Ibn Foslan, Ibn Khordabeh, Jeihani, Istakhri (Al), Ibn Haukul, Beruni (Al), Bekri (Al), Idrisi, Ibn Batuta, each indexed separately.) Georgios bin Bakhtyeshun, the physician, 72, 73, 98 Ghazali (Al), the mystic and philosopher, 65, 70 God of the Arabs, 148 God of the Jews, 148 Golius, 41, 42 Grammarians, The, 45 (Duwali (Ad), Khalil (Al), Sibawaih, Jahiz (Al), Kisai (Al), Mubarrad (Al), Thalab, Farra (Al), Akhfash (Al), Shaibani (As), Anbari (Al), each indexed separately.) Granada, Kingdom of, established, 9; fall of, 9, 112; taken by Ferdinand and Isabella,9; Alhambra at, 11, 112 Gunádhya, the Hindoo author, 182, 183 H. Habicht, a translator, 155, 175 Hajaj bin Yusuf bin Matta, the translator, 90, 98 Haji Khalfa, the bibliographer, 55, 113, 115 Hakim II. of Spain, his education, 103; his diwan of poems, 103; his library; 104; and catalogue of books, 104, 105 Halaku Khan, 13, 107 Hamdallah, the penman, 113 Hamilton (Terrick), the translator of 'Antar,' 184, 185 Hanbal, the imam, 37 Hanifa, the imam, 37 Hanyfs, The, 133 Harath, the poet, 29 Hariri (Al), the author of the 'Makâmat', 87, 88 Harun-ar-Rashid, the Khalif, 12, 19, 73, 96-100 Hasan bin Ali, the Fatimite, 5 Hasan bin Sehl, the translator, 91 Hasan bin Thabit, the poet, 34 Hazar Afsaneh, or Thousand Stories, 152 Hazim (Al), the traditionist, 38 Herbelot (D'), the translator and Orientalist, 97 Hertlemah, the hostile poetess, 31 Hijrah, or Emigration, 25 Historians, The, 52 (Ibn Ishak, Ibn Hisham, Wackidi (Al), Muhammad bin Saad, Madaini (Al), Tabari, Masudi, Ibn Athir, Baha-uddin, Imad-uddin, Kamal-uddin, Abul Feda, Ibn Khaldun, Ibn Hajar, Ibn Kesir, Taki-uddin of Fez, Ibn Arabshaw, Makrisi (Al), Sayuti, Makkari (Al), each indexed separately.) 'Hitopodesa,' a Hindoo story-book, 151, 153, 183 Hobeira, the hostile poet, 31 Honein, Battle of, 130 Honein bin Ishak, the physician and translator, 75, 91 Hughes's 'Dictionary of Islam,' 120, 149 Hussain bin Ali, the Fatimite, 5 I. Ibn Al Arabi, the mystic, 95 Ibn Al Athir, the historian, 54, 55 Ibn Al Bawwab, the penman, 113, 114 Ibn Al Mukaffa, the translator and author, 89, 91-94, 152 Ibn Arabshaw, the historian, 110 Ibn As Sikkit, the editor of poems, 76 Ibn Bajah (Avempace), the philosopher, 24, 25, 65, 70 Ibn Batlan, the physician and philosopher, 70 Ibn Batuta, the geographer and traveller, 108, 109 Ibn Demash, the editor of poems, 76 Ibn Duraid, the philologist and writer on natural history, 64 Ibn Foslan, the geographer and traveller, 49 Ibn Hajar, the historian and biographer, 109 Ibn Haukul, the geographer and traveller, 49, 50 Ibn Hilal, the penman, 113 Ibn Hisham, the historian, 52 Ibn Ishak, the historian, 52 Ibn Kamal Pasha, a writer on law, 112 Ibn Kesir, the historian, 110 Ibn Khaldun, the historian, 108, 109 Ibn Khallikan, the biographer, 55-57, 116, 216; eighteen anecdotes from his work, 217-228 Ibn Khordabeh, the geographer, 49,50 Ibn Kutaiba, the philologist and author, 63 Ibn Malik, the grammarian, 108 Ibn Mukla, the penman, 113,114 Ibn Rashid (Averroes), the philosopher, 24, 25, 65, 71 Ibn Sina (Avicenna), the physician, 24, 25, 65, 67, 69 Ibn-ul-Marzaban, the editor of poems, 76 Ibn Wahshiyah, the translator, 91 Ibn Yunis, the historian, 44 Ibrahim of Aleppo, a writer on law, 112 Idrisi, the geographer, 49, 50, 52 'Ilam en nas,' a story-book, 216 Imams, The Shiah, 37 Imams, The Sunni, 37, 38 Isa bin Musa, the physician, 75 Islam, The dogmas, precepts, and ordinances of, 148, 149 Istakhri (Al), the geographer and traveller, 49, 50 J. Jaafar as Sadik, the alchemist, 41 Jaafar bin Yahya, the Barmekide, 99-101 Jaber (Al), or Geber, the astronomer, 24, 25, 41 Jaber bin Hayam, the alchemist, 40, 41 Jahiz (Al), the philologist, 47, 58, 59 Jami's 'Beharistan,' 188 Jarir, the poet, 77, 78, 80 Jawini's 'Negaristan,' 188 Jeihani, the geographer, 49, 51 Jerusalem, the early Kiblah, 133; changed to Mecca, 136 Jesus compared with Buddha, 142; no details about his early career, 143 Jones (Sir William), 29 Jurisconsults, The seven, 36 (Obaid Allah, Orwa, Kasim, Said, Sulaiman, Abu Bakr, Kharija) K. Kaabab, The, at Mecca, 3, 122, 144 Kab-bin-Zoheir, the poet, 31-33 Kali (Al), the philologist and author, 87, 103 Kama (Al), the poet, 30, 77 'Kama Sutra' of Vatsyayana, 182 Karitha, the hostile poetess, 31 Kasidas, _i.e._, Arab idyls or elegies, 28, 29 Kasim bin Asbagh, the traditionist, 38 Kasim (Al) bin Ma'an, the philologist and author, 59 'Kathá Sarit Ságara,' The, 153, 154, 181-184; translated by Professor Tawney, 181; compared with the 'Arabian Nights', 181; divided into 124 chapters, containing 330 stories, 182; their nature, 181-183 Khafaji, the poet, 117 Khalef al Ahmer, the author, 58 Khalid bin Barmek, 99 Khalid bin Walid, the general, 4, 129, 137, 147 Khalid bin Yazid, the alchemist, 40 Khahl (Al), the grammarian, 46, 47 'Khalilah wa Dimnah,' a story-book, 151-153 Kiblah, The, changed to Mecca, 136 Kindi (Al), or Alchendius, the philosopher, 24, 25, 65, 66 Kisai (Al), the grammarian, 47, 225 Koraish, tribe of, 2, 124, 125, 128, 134 Koran, The 3, 23, 24, 138; quotation from the 26th chapter, 31; as defined by the Muslims, 138; its division into chapters, 138; how it represents Muhammad, 138; not arranged until after his death, 138; as compared with our Bible, 132; as described by Mr. Badger, 140, 141; as a literary composition, 142 Kosta bin Luka, the philosopher and physician, 65, 75, 91 Kuenen (Dr. A.), on the religion of Israel, 146, note Kutrub, the grammarian and philologist, 60 L. Labid, the poet, 29; his conversion, 34 Lane, a translator of the 'Nights', 155 Lokman, the sage, 26,27 M. Madaini (Al), the historian, 53 Mahdi (Al), the Khalif, 19, 96, 98, 99 Majridi (Al), the philosopher, 65, 106 'Makamat Hariri', 87, 88 Makin (Al), the chronicler, 97 Makkari (Al), the historian, 10, 22, 96, 117 Makrisi (Al), the historian and geographer, 110 Malik, the imam, 37 Mamun (Al), the Khalif, 12, 19, 74, 90, 96, 101 Mansur (Al), the Khalif, 12, 19, 73, 90, 96, 98, 99 Marwan II., the Khalif, 7, 19 Maseweib, the physician and translator, 75, 91 Masudi (Al), the historian, 53, 54 Mervezi (Al), the geographer, 49 'Merzuban-namah,' The, 192 extracts from it, 193-201 Mir Ali, the penman, 113 Moawia I, the Khalif, 5, 19, 33 Mofaddhal (Al), the compiler and editor of poems, 76, 85, 86 Montague (E. Wortley), his 'Nights', 177, 178 Moors, The, in Spain, 9; their expulsion, 11, 112 Morell, a translator, 154 Moses compared with Muhammad, 142; as a liberator and organizer, 143, 145; why he stayed in the desert, 145; his legislation there, 146; to him the Jews owe their nationality, 146 Mothanna, the general, 4, 147 'Mua'llakat,' The, or suspended poems, 24, 28, 30 Mubarrad (Al), the grammarian, 48 Muhammad, the Apostle, 3, 18; his birth, 120; details of his life, 120-132; his death, 132; as a poet, 24, 30; as a reformer, preacher and apostle at Mecca, 119, 120, 132; as a military leader, 147; his military expeditions, 127-131, 147; his failure at Mecca, 134; his success at Madinah, 135, 136; his power there as Pope-King, 135; his virtues at Mecca, his vices at Madinah, 136; his wives, 122, 125, 127, 128, 129, 137; his concubines, 128, 129, 137; reasons for his numerous marriages, 137; compared with Moses, 142; to him the Arabs owe their nationality, 146; always insisted on faith and prayer, 149; his parting address at Mina, 150; his immediate successors, 4, 5, 18, 25; his companions and their successors, 39; his converts, 123, 124, 126, 129 Muhammad Al-Amin, the philologist and lawyer, 116 Muhammad bin Habib, the editor of poems, 76 Muhammad bin Saad, the historian, 53 Muhammad Hussain Tabrizi, the penman, 113 Muir (Sir William), 120; his life of Muhammad, 120, 137; his annals of the early Khalifate, 147 Munkah, the Sanscrit translator, 91 Musa, the general, 7 Musa bin Khalid, the translator, 91 Muslim Homeir, the geographer, 49 Musset (Alfred de), the poet, 233; the verses on his tomb in Paris, 234 Mustaa'sim (Al) Billah, the Khalif, 12, 20, 107 Mustatraf (Al), a story-book, 201; extracts from it, 202-209 Muta, Battle at, 130 Mutanabbi (Al), the poet, 77, 84, 85 Mysticism, 95 N. Nabiga, the poet, 30 Nadim (An), author of the 'Fihrist,' 55, 56, 84, 85 Nami (An), the poet, 77, 85 'Naphut-ul-Yaman,' a story-book, 188; extracts from it, 188-192 Nasir-uddin-Tusy, the Persian, 107 Natural history, writers about, 58 (Khalef-al-Ahmer, Ahmad bin ud Dinveri, Jahiz (Al), Ibn Duraid, Shaibani (As), each indexed separately.) Newton and the Bible, 140 Nubakht, the translator, 98 O. Obaid Allah bin Jahsh, the Hanyf, 133 Ohud, Battle of, 127 Omaiyide Khalifs, Abdul-Malik and Walid I, patrons of literature and art, 95 Omaiyides, The, list of 19; dynasty established, 5; conquests of, 6; fall of, 7 Omar, the Khalifah, 4, 19, 137, 147 Oriental Congress of 1889, v., vi. Oriental lectures established, vi. Oriental literature, study of, vi. Oriental Translation Fund, Old, vi., vii.; its revival, vi.; new fund to be permanent, vii.; some of its works, 54, 57, 88, 109, 115, 117; list of works published by, Appendix, 235 Otbi (Al), the poet, 77, 80, 82 Othman, the Khalifah, 4, 19 Othman bin Huwairith, the Hanyf, 133 Othman bin Talha, the custodian of the Kaabah, 3, 129 Oweis Al Keremi, the mystic, 95 P. 'Pancha Tantra,' 151, 153, 183 Passion Play, the Arab, 6 Payne (John), description of his 'Nights,' 155, 156, 175, 177, 180 Pelly (Sir Lewis), a translator, 6 Periods of Arab literature--first, 25; second, 20; third, 106; of Arab history, 2 Persia, its severance from the Abbasides, 13 Persian Portraits, 151 Petis de la Croix, a translator, 154 Philologists, Arab 59 (Kasim bin Ma'an, Kutrub, Jahiz (Al), Shaibani (As), Asmai (Al), Abu Obaida, Ansari (Al), Abu Othman, Abul Aina, Ibn Kutaiba, Ibn Duraid, each indexed separately.) Philology, Arab, 59 Philosophers, Arab, 65 (Khalid bin Yazid, Kindi (Al), Farabi (Al), Ibn Sina, Ali bin Ridhwan, Ghazah (Al), Ibn Bajah, Ibn Rashid, Kosta bin Luka, Thaleb bin Korra, Tavhidi (Al), Majridi (Al), each indexed separately.) Philosophy, Arab, 64 Physicians, Arab, 72 (Georgios bin Bakhtyeshun, Gabriel bin Georgios, Isa bin Musa, Maseweih, Yahya bin Maseweih, Honem bin Ishak, Kosta bin Luka, Razi, Ibn Batlan, each indexed separately.) Places of learning, 105 Pococke, a translator, 97 Poem of the Mantle, by Kab bin Zoheir, 31, 33 Poem of the Mantle, by Al Busiri, 32, note Poetry before Muhammad's time, 25, 28 Poetry, Collectors and editors of Arab, 76 (Mofaddhal (Al), Shaibani (As), Abu Zaid bin A'us, Ibn as Sikkit, Muhammad bin Habib, Abu Hatim as Sejastani, Abu Othman al Mazini, Abu Tammam, Bohton (Al), Ibn-ul-Marzaban, Ibn Demash, Zukkari, Abu Bakr As-Sauli, Abul Faraj al-Ispahani, each indexed separately.) Poets, Arab, 28, 30, 77 (Amriolkais, Antara, Labid, Tarafa, Amru, Harath, Zoheir, Nabiga, Kama (Al), Aasha (Al), Akhtal (Al), Farazdak, Jarir, Abul-Atahya, Bashshar bin Burd, Abu Nuwas, Abu Tammam, Otbi (Al), Bohtori (Al), Mutanabbi (Al), Nami (An), each indexed separately.) Printing presses of Arabic to-day, 118 Prophets mentioned by Muhammad, 133 Purgstall (Von Hammer), author and translator, 96, 155 Q. Quaritch (Bernard), his catalogue, vii. R. Radhi (Al) Billah, the Khalif, 20, 101, 102 Razi, or Rhazes, the physician, 24, 25, 75 Redhouse (J.W.), the translator, 32 Rehatsek (E.), the translator, viii., 30, 53 Reiske, a translator, 97 Remarks, Introductory, v. Rénan, extracts from, 144, 145 Rodiger, a translator, 27 Ruckert, a translator, 89 S. Sacey de (Baron Silvestre), 26, 89, 108 Sad bin Malik, the general, 4 Sa'di's 'Gulistan,' 188 Sayuti (Jalal-uddin), the Egyptian author, 111 Scott (Jonathan), a translator, 155, 177, 178 Sehl bin Nubakht, 90 Seville, 9 Shafai (Al), the imam, 37 Shaibani (Abu Amr as), the grammarian, philologist, writer on natural history and editor of poems, 49, 60, 76 Shiahs, Description of the, 5 Sibawaih, the grammarian, 46, 47 'Sihr-ul-oyoon,' a book on the eye, 210 extracts from it, 210-212 'Siraj-ul Muluk,' an interesting work, 212; extracts from it, 212-216 Society of the Brethren of Purity, 105 Sofyan at Thauri, an imaam, 38 Somadeva, '(Bhatta); an Indian author, 182, 183 Soudanese, The, 148 Spain, Omaiyide rulers in, 21; other rulers, 8; the Almoravides, 9; the Almohades, 9 Spanish Omaiyide Khalifs, 8, 21; the two greatest, Abd-ar-Rahman III and Hakim II., 102 Sprengor (Dr. A.), a translator, 54 Stories from Ibn Khallikan, 217-228 Stories from the 'Arabian Nights.' 157-174 Stories from the 'Merzuban-namah.' 193-201 Stories from the 'Mustatraf.' 202-209 Stories from the 'Naphut-ul-Yaman.' 188-192 Stories from the 'Sihr-ul-oyoon.' 210-212 Stories from the 'Siraj-ul-Muluk.' 212-216 Stories from various sources, 228-233 Sulaiman, the lawgiver, 112-116 Sunnis, Description of the, 5 Syria and Palestine, 14; conquest of, by the Fatimites, 14; by the Seljuks, 14; by Saladin, 15; by Selim I., 15 T. Tabari, the historian, 53 Taki-uddin of Fez, the historian, 110 Tarafa, the poet, 29 Tarik, the general, 7 Tavhidi (Al), the philosopher, 65, 106 Tawney (C.H.), the translator, 181 Testaments, our Old and New, 133, 139 Thalab, the grammarian, 48 Thalab bin Korra, the philosopher, 65 Theophilus of Edessa, the translator, 98 'Thousand and one Nights.' 152, 154-156, 174-176 Torrens, a translator of the 'Nights.' 155 Tradition, The six Fathers of, 38 (Al-Bukhari, Muslim, At-Tir-midi, Abu Dawud, An-Nasai, Ibn Majah.) Traditionists, Early, 38 Traditionists, Minor, 38 Translations, how carried on, 90, 91, 98 Translators, 89, 90 (Ibn-AlMukaifa, Abd-Allah bin Hilal, Sehl bin Nubakht, Musa bin Khalid, Yusuf bin Khalid, Hassan bin Sehl, Baladori (Al), Munkah, the Indian, Ibn Washiyab, Honein bin Ishak, Maseweih and his son Yahya, Kosta bin Luka, Theophilus of Edessa, each indexed separately.) Travellers, _see_ 'Geographers' Trebutien, a translator, 155 U. Ulema, Establishment of the, 116 V. Vatsyayana, the Hindoo author of the 'Kama Sutra,' 182 Voltaire and the Bible, 140 'Vrihat Katha,' or Great Tale, 182, 183 W. Wackidi (Al), the historian, 53 Walid I., the sixth Omaiyide Khalif, 7, 19 Warakah, the Hanyf, 123, 132 Weil (Dr.), the translator, 53, 155 White (Dr. Joseph), 177 World, End of the, prophesied, 111 Wustenfeld (Dr.), the editor and author, 52, 76 Y. Yahya bin Khalid, the Barmekide, 99, 100 Yahya bin Maseweih, the physician and translator, 74, 75, 91,98 Yakut, the penman, 113, 114 Yazid I., the second Omaiyide Khalif, 5, 6, 19 Yusuf bin Khalid, the translator, 91 Z. Zaid, the inquirer, 132 Zibary, the hostile poet, 31 Zinzerling, a translator, 155 Zobeida, the wife of Harun-ar-Rashid, 97, 168 Zoheir, the poet, 29 Zotenberg (H.), of the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, 176, 177, 179 Zukkari, the editor of poems, 76 THE END 
38253	----	Transcriber's Note Single characters following '^' or mutiple characters following '^' enclosed within '{ }' denote superscript text. Hyphenation has been standardised. WORK ISSUED BY The Hakluyt Society. DESCRIPTION OF THE COASTS OF EAST AFRICA AND MALABAR. A DESCRIPTION OF THE COASTS OF EAST AFRICA AND MALABAR IN THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY, BY DUARTE BARBOSA, A PORTUGUESE. TRANSLATED FROM AN EARLY SPANISH MANUSCRIPT IN THE BARCELONA LIBRARY WITH NOTES AND A PREFACE, BY THE HON. HENRY E. J. STANLEY. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE HAKLUYT SOCIETY. JOHNSON REPRINT CORPORATION JOHNSON REPRINT COMPANY LTD. 111 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10003 Berkeley Square House, London, W1X6BA _Landmarks in Anthropology_, a series of reprints in cultural anthropology _General Editor_: Weston La Barre First reprinting 1970, Johnson Reprint Corporation Printed in the United States of America _Note to Thirty-fifth Publication of the Hakluyt Society, "Description of the Coasts of East Africa and Malabar."_ This volume was published by the Hakluyt Society as the work of Duarte Barbosa on the authority of Ramusio, for neither the three Spanish MSS. of Barcelona and Munich, nor the Portuguese MS., give his name; it is probable that Barbosa contributed a largo part of it, for Damian de Goes refers his readers for an account of Malabar and its religion and customs to a book by Duarte Barbosa, who is stated to have spoken the language of Malabar with great correctness, and who resided a long time in that country; yet the authorship must be ascribed to Magellan, for I have just seen, in the possession of Don Pascual de Gayangos, another Spanish MS. which states at the top of the first page,--"Este libro compuso Fernando Magallanes Portugues piloto lo qual el vio y anduvo." "This book was composed by the Portuguese Fernando Magellan the pilot, the things narrated in which he saw and visited." This heading is in the same writing as the rest of the MS., which is clear handwriting of the sixteenth century, and like that of the second part of the MS. No 571 of the Munich Library. The MS. of Mr. Gayangos appears to be part of a larger book, since its second leaf is numbered 111 (the corner of the first is worn off), and the last is numbered 170, and ends with the description of the Lequeos. The _Epitome de la Biblioteca Oriental, Occidental, Nautica y Geografica_ of D. Antonio de Leon Pinelo, Madrid, 1737, mentions, at p. 667 a work of Magellan's under the following heading: _Fernando de Magallanes, Efemerides, or Diary of his Navigation_, a MS. which existed in the possession of Antonio Moreno, Cosmographer of the House of Trade, according to Don Nicolas Antonio. THE TRANSLATOR. _Madrid, February 1867._ ERRATA. Page iii, line 11, _for_ "dearer," _read_ "clearer." " 44 " 34, " "Atuxsia," " "Atauxia." " 73, " 19, " "albejas," " "mussels." " 96, " 13, " "laced," " "placed." " 159, " 8, " "antoridade," " "autoridade." " 200, " 7, " "they burn," " "they burn it." " 232, " 10, " "et d'aller," " "est d'aller." NOTE TO pp. 228-229.--See pages 249-251 of _The Travels of Ludovico de Varthema_ Hakluyt Society, and notes, also Mr. R. Major's able Introduction to the _Early Voyages to Terra Australis, now called Australia_. This passage, written about five years later than when Varthema wrote, is a fuller statement than Varthema's: and taking the two together, there can be little doubt that the information they contain was based on actual knowledge of Australia. COUNCIL OF THE HAKLUYT SOCIETY. SIR RODERICK IMPEY MURCHISON, K.C.B., G.C.St.S., F.R.S., D.C.L., Corr. Mem. Inst. F., Hon. Mem. Imp. Acad. Sc. Petersburg, etc., etc., PRESIDENT. REAR-ADMIRAL C. R. DRINKWATER BETHUNE, C.B.}VICE-PRESIDENTS. THE RT. HON. SIR DAVID DUNDAS, M.P. } REV. G. P. BADGER, F.R.G.S. J. BARROW, ESQ., F.R.S. REAR-ADMIRAL R. COLLINSON, C.B. SIR HENRY ELLIS, K.H., F.R.S. GENERAL C. FOX. R. W. GREY, ESQ. JOHN WINTER JONES, ESQ., F.S.A. JOHN W. KAYE, ESQ. HIS EXCELLENCY THE COUNT DE LAVRADIO. THOMAS K. LYNCH, ESQ. R. H. MAJOR, ESQ., F.S.A. SIR WILLIAM STIRLING MAXWELL, BART., M.P. SIR CHARLES NICHOLSON, BART. MAJOR-GENERAL SIR HENRY C. RAWLINSON, K.C.B. VISCOUNT STRANGFORD. WILLIAM WEBB, ESQ. ALLEN YOUNG, ESQ., R.N.R. CLEMENTS R. MARKHAM, ESQ., F.S.A., HONORARY SECRETARY. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. The Spanish manuscript from which this volume has been translated is in the handwriting of the beginning of 1500, full of abbreviations, and without punctuation or capital letters at the beginnings of sentences or for the proper names, which adds much to the difficulty of reading it. It contains eighty-seven leaves. The handwriting more resembles an example of the year 1510 than those dated 1529 and 1531, given at p. 319 of the "Escuela de Leer Letras Cursivas Antiguas y Modernas desde la entrada de los Godos en España, por el P. Andres Merino de Jesu Christo, Madrid, 1780." This work was translated into Spanish from the original Portuguese in 1524, at Vittoria, by Martin Centurion, ambassador of the community of Genoa, with the assistance of Diego Ribero, a Portuguese, cosmographer and hydrographer to his Majesty Charles V. There are reasons (as will be shewn in the notes) for supposing that the Spanish translation, probably this copy and not the Portuguese original, assisted the compilers of the early atlases, especially that of Abraham Ortelius, of Antwerp, 1570, other editions of which were published in succeeding years.[1] The similarity of the orthography of this manuscript and of that of the names in maps as late as that of Homann, Nuremberg, 1753, shews how much geography up to a recent period was indebted to the Portuguese and Spaniards. It may also be observed that from their familiarity at that time with the sounds of Arabic, the proper names are in general more correctly rendered in European letters, than used to be the case in later times. This MS. is in the Barcelona Library and is there catalogued "Viage por Malabar y costas de Africa, 1512: letra del siglo xvi." It was supposed to be an original Spanish work, for the statement of its having been translated is in the body of the MS., no part of which can be read without more or less difficulty. This work is not a book of travels as the title given in the catalogue, though not on the MS., indicates; it is rather an itinerary, or description of countries. It gives ample details of the trade, supplies, and water of the various seaports mentioned in it. It contains many interesting historical details, some of which, such as the account of Diu, the taking of Ormuz, the founding of the Portuguese fort in Calicut, their interruption of the Indian trade to Suez by capturing the Indian ships, the rise of Shah Ismail, etc., fix pretty nearly the exact date at which this narrative was composed as the year 1514. Two other MS. copies of this work are preserved in the Royal Library at Munich: the first of these, No. 570 of the catalogue of that library, is in a handwriting very similar to that of the Barcelona MS., and apparently of the same period. It consists of one hundred and three leaves, and is stated to have proceeded from the episcopal library of Passau. This MS. does not contain the appendix respecting the prices of the precious stones. The other MS. No. 571, is of fifty-three leaves, and is written in two handwritings, both of which are much rounder and clearer than that of No. 570; the catalogue states that this MS. came from the library of the Jesuits of Augsburg. There are several verbal differences between the two MSS., and perhaps No. 571 agrees more exactly with the Barcelona MS. The two Munich MSS. frequently write words such as rey with a double r, as _rrey_, which does not occur in the Barcelona MS., where, however, words begin with a large r, which is also used for a double r in the middle of a word. The piracies of the Portuguese are told without any reticence, apparently without consciousness of their criminality, for no attempt is made to justify them, and the pretext that such and such an independent state or city did not choose to submit itself on being summoned to do so by the Portuguese, seems to have been thought all sufficient for laying waste and destroying it. This narrative shows that most of the towns on the coasts of Africa, Arabia, and Persia were in a much more flourishing condition at that time than they have been since the Portuguese ravaged some of them, and interfered with the trade of all. The description of the early introduction of the cultivation and weaving of cotton into South Africa by the Arab traders will be read with interest; and the progress then beginning in those regions three hundred and fifty years ago, and the subsequent stand still to which it has been brought by the Portuguese and by the slave-trade to America, may be taken as supporting the views lately put forward by Captain R. Burton and others at the Anthropological Society. The greater part of this volume was printed in Italian by Ramusio in 1554 in his collection of travels (Venetia, nella Stamperia de' Giunti), as the narration of Duarte Barbosa, and a large part of this work must have been written by Barbosa; and a Portuguese manuscript of his was printed at Lisbon in 1812 in the "Collecção de noticias para a historia e geografia das nações ultramarinas." This manuscript of Barbosa's, however, is much less full than this Spanish MS. of Barcelona, or than the Italian version of Ramusio, and the Lisbon editors have added from Ramusio translations of the passages which were wanting in their MS. These publications do not contain the number of leagues between one place and another which are given in the Spanish translation. That the Portuguese manuscript printed at Lisbon in 1812 belongs to Barbosa, stands only on the authority of Ramusio, who gives an introduction by Odoardo Barbosa of the city of Lisbon, which is not to be found either in the Barcelona MS. or in the Portuguese MS., and which has been translated from the Italian of Ramusio and published in the Lisbon edition. The introduction to the Lisbon edition states that the Portuguese MS. is not an autograph MS., and that the account of Barbosa is bound up along with other papers. This introduction refers to the passages in the Portuguese MS. which are not to be found in Ramusio, and says it may be doubted whether these were additions posterior to the work of Duarte Barbosa. It had occurred to me that this work might be attributed to the famous navigator Magellan, and that it must have been through him that it found its way to Charles the Fifth's court: there are several reasons for this supposition, and some difficulties in the way of it; I will, however, follow Sr. Larrañaga's advice, and state both sides of the question. Duarte Barbosa, cousin of Magellan, Alvaro de Mezquita, Estevan Gomez, Juan Rodrigues de Carvalho were Portuguese employed by Spain along with Magellan[2] in the fleet which sailed on the 21st September 1519, from San Lucar de Barrameda to Brazil and the straits which bear the name of that Admiral. Now the _Panorama_ or Spanish version of the _Univers Pittoresque_ states (page 140): "It was at that time, although it has not been possible to ascertain exactly the year, when the illustrious Viceroy of the Indies sent Francisco Serrano to the Moluccas, a friend, and also, as it is believed, a relation of Magellan, the same person who by reason of the exact and precise data which he furnished to the celebrated navigator deserved later to see his name inscribed amongst those of other notable persons, whose fame will last as long as history endures." * * * * * "At the beginning of the same century Duarte Barbosa also proceeded to the Moluccas, and cruised among those countries for the space of sixteen years, collecting interesting notes, which although they were not published till three centuries after the event, are not on that account the less admirable and precious; these reports were published in Lisbon in a work which bears the following title: _Collecção de noticias para a historia e geografia das nações ultramarinas_; those reports which relate to Barbosa are contained in the second volume." Now this Barcelona MS. contains in an appendix the voyage of three Portuguese, a Spaniard, and five Malays, whose captain was Francisco Serrano, to the Moluccas in the year 1512: this supplies the date of his voyage which the above quoted paragraph says could not be ascertained, and this account is not in Ramusio's collection, and there is every reason to suppose that it was as yet unpublished. In addition to what has been said by the writers of the _Panorama_ and _Univers Pittoresque_, in which statement they follow the 3rd Decade of the "Asia" of Barros, lib. v. cap. 8:-- "We wrote before how Francisco Serrão wrote some letters from the Maluco Islands where he was, to Fernão de Magalhães, on account of being his friend from the time when both were in India, principally at the taking of Malaca:" it was to be expected that Barbosa and Serrano would furnish their information to Magellan, whether as the head of their family, or as the Portuguese who had been longest at the Spanish Court, and through whom they might hope for advancement and further employment, such as Duarte Barbosa obtained with the fleet which discovered the Straits of Magellan. Magellan returned to Europe in 1512. Duarte Barbosa probably did not return till 1517, since he is said to have remained sixteen years in the Indian Ocean, and in that case he could not have returned before 1515--however, it is said in the introduction to the Lisbon edition that he is the son of Diego Barbosa, named in the Decades as having sailed in 1501 with the first fleet with João de Nova: the same introduction also says that the time of his departure to and return to India are unknown. Ramusio's edition of Barbosa's narrative says the writing of it was finished in 1516; it does not, however, mention any facts which occurred later than the year 1514. There is reason to suspect that Ramusio obtained his copy from the same source as the Barcelona manuscript, because the name of the precious stone zircon is spelled differently, giagonza, jagonza, and gegonza, and this difference of orthography coincides in the same places in the Spanish manuscript and in Ramusio. Ramusio gives an appendix containing the prices of precious stones and of spices, but has not got the voyage to the Moluccas of Francisco Serrano. The only reason I can conjecture for this not having reached Ramusio is, that it was a confidential paper, on account of the rivalry of Spain and Portugal with regard to those islands; and it is stated in history that Serrano increased the distances so as to enable Magellan to persuade the Spaniards that the Moluccas were more to the eastward, and that they fell within the demarcation of territories assigned by the Pope to Castille. This account of Francisco Serrano's voyage, and of his remaining behind married at Maluco, was either written by the Spaniard who accompanied him, or was translated by some other person than Diego Ribero and the Genoese ambassador Centurione, since all the points of the compass which in the body of the work are indicated by the names of winds, are here described by their names, as este, sudoeste, etc. Tramontana, greco, maestro, siloque, are all Spanish terms, but are less literate than the names of the points of the compass, and seem to be owing to the Genoese translator, to whom they would be familiar. It must be observed that the handwriting and paper of the narrative and two appendices of the Barcelona MS. are identical, and the leaves are numbered consecutively, so that there is no reason for supposing that the whole papers were not originally, as they now are, placed together. Ramusio in various parts of the narrative leaves a blank with the words, _Here several lines are wanting_; this may be owing to passages having been struck out for political reasons. The Portuguese edition has a short passage not in the Spanish MS., the only apparent motive for its omission being that it was to the glorification of the Portuguese. Since so large a portion of the present volume is contained in the Portuguese manuscript of Barbosa printed at Lisbon, it would be natural to follow Ramusio in attributing the work to him: at the same time it is not easy to understand how Barbosa, who was in the Indian Ocean at the time, should have confounded the two naval actions at Diu in 1508 and 1509, which he relates as one only, although the Portuguese were beaten in the first and victorious in the second. It is also difficult to imagine that one person visited all the places described in this volume, even in the space of sixteen years, at a period when travelling was slower than at present: and the observations on the manners and customs show a more intimate knowledge than what could be acquired by touching at a port for a few days only. This work is that of no ordinary capacity; it shews great power of observation, and also the possession by the writer of great opportunities for inquiry into the manners and habits of the different countries described. It could hardly have been drawn up by an ecclesiastic, there is too great an absence of condemnation of idolatrous practices, and the deficiencies of St. Thomas's Christians are too lightly spoken of. An ecclesiastic would not have been so indifferent to their mode of communion and to the sale of the sacraments, which caused many to remain unbaptized. The scanty mention of Albuquerque and of Goa, and its being the sort of political memorandum which a person in Magellan's position, seeking service from Spain, and desirous of pushing the Spanish government to eastern as well as western enterprise, would be likely to write; the commercial details, which are not those of a merchant, but rather of a soldier, for the prices given chiefly relate to provisions, horses and elephants, things useful in war, whilst the prices of jewels and spices, drawn up in a business-like manner, are in an appendix and not referred to in the narrative,--all these circumstances seem almost to justify the conclusion that this volume was drawn up by Magellan, or under Magellan's guidance, for the purpose of being laid before Charles V, at the time that Magellan was seeking the command which he received a short time later. This volume derives additional value from the numerous passages in which it runs parallel to the _Lusiad_, so that the two confirm one another, and this prose description serves as a commentary to Camoens. Several passages descriptive of the customs of the nairs of Malabar in this work present very forcibly the connection between Plato and the Hindus. The travels of Varthema, a former publication of the Hakluyt Society, gave evidence of the good administration of India especially in regard to justice in olden times; similar testimony will be found in this volume. The expedient of the King of Narsinga for correcting his high officials, without either removing them or lowering them in the eyes of those they had to rule, has not, I believe, been before narrated. Though Suttee has been so often described, the account of it in these pages possesses much interest and novelty, probably from having been written by an eye-witness, before that institution was disturbed by European influence. An allusion to the English longbow as to a weapon in actual use, gives an appearance of antiquity to this narrative even greater than that which belongs to its date. The orthography of the manuscript is not always uniform, therefore where a name is spelt in two different ways, I have left them as they are given. I have altered the original spelling of the names of only a few familiar places, and have retained the Portuguese expressions of Moor and Gentile, which mean Mussulman and heathen, one of which has survived up to the present time in Southern India as Moorman. Any further observations I may have to make on this manuscript will be found in the notes. I wish to express my thanks to Sr. D. Gregorio Romero Larrañaga, the head of the Barcelona Library, and to the other gentlemen of his department, for the cordial manner in which they have supplied me with the contents of their Library, and for their assistance in discussing doubtful points. London, October 21, 1865. [Illustration: facsimile of handwritten manuscript.] [Illustration: facsimile of handwritten manuscript.] PREFACE. (TRANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE EDITION, LISBON, 1812.) I, Duarte Barbosa, a native of the very noble city of Lisbon, having navigated for a great part of my youth in the Indies discovered in the name of the king our lord, and having travelled through many and various countries neighbouring to the coast, and having seen and heard various things, which I judged to be marvellous and stupendous, and which had never been seen nor heard of by our ancestors, resolved to write them for the benefit of all, as I saw and heard of them from day to day, striving to declare in this my book the towns and limits of all those kingdoms to which I went in person, or of which I had trustworthy information; and also which were kingdoms and countries of the Moors and which of the Gentiles, and their customs. Neither have I left in silence their traffic, the merchandise which is met with in them, the places where they are produced, nor whither they are transported. And besides what I saw personally, I always delighted in inquiring of the Moors, Christians, and Gentiles, as to the usages and customs which they practised, and the points of information thus gained I endeavoured to combine together so as to have a more exact knowledge of them, this being always my special object, as it should be of all those who write on such matters; and I am convinced that it will be recognized that I have not spared any diligence in order to obtain this object, as far as the feeble extent of the power of my understanding allows of. It was in the present year of 1516 that I finished writing this my book. DESCRIPTION OF THE EAST INDIES AND COUNTRIES ON THE SEABORD OF THE INDIAN OCEAN IN 1514.[3] THE CAPE OF ST. SEBASTIAN AFTER PASSING THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. Having passed the Cape of Good Hope in a north-easterly direction, at Cape San Sebastian, there are very fair mountain lands, and fields, and valleys, in which there are many cows and sheep, and other wild animals; it is a country inhabited by people who are black and naked. They only wear skins with the fur of deer, or other wild animals, like some cloaks in the French fashion, of which people the Portuguese, up to the present time, have not been able to obtain information, nor to become acquainted with what there is in the interior of the country. They have no navigation, neither do they make use of the sea, neither have the Moors of Arabia and Persia, or the Indies, ever navigated as far as this, nor discovered them, on account of the strong currents of the sea, which is very stormy. ISLANDS OF THE GREAT UCIQUES.[4] Having passed Cape San Sebastian towards the north-east for India, there are some islands close to the mainland to the east, which are called the Great Uciques; in which, on the side towards the mainland there are a few small towns of Moors, who deal with the people of the continent, and they provision themselves from them. In these Uciques much amber is found of good quality, which the Moors collect and sell in other places, and likewise many pearls and small seed pearls are found in the sea in beds (crusts), which they cannot gather or fish up, and whenever they do get them out they boil them, and extract the said pearls and seed pearls dingy and burnt, and there is no doubt that there are many and good ones, if they knew how to extract them, as is done in Sael, Cochoromandel, and in Barahe,[5] which will be mentioned hereafter. THE LITTLE VCIQUES ISLANDS IN RIVERS. Having passed the Vciques grandes towards Sofala, a fortress which the King of Portugal made there, and where there is much gold, at xvii or xviii leagues from it there are some rivers, which make between their branches, islands, called the Little Vciques, in which there are some villages of the Moors, who also deal with the Gentiles of the mainland in their provisions, which are rice, millet, and meat, and which they bring in small barks to Sufala.[6] SOFALA. Having passed the Little Vciques, for the Indies, at xviii leagues from them there is a river which is not very large, whereon is a town of the Moors called Sofala,[7] close to which town the King of Portugal has a fort. These Moors established themselves there a long time ago on account of the great trade in gold which they carry on with the Gentiles of the mainland: these speak somewhat of bad Arabic (garabia), and have got a king over them, who is at present subject to the King of Portugal.[8] And the mode of their trade is that they come by sea in small barks which they call zanbucs (sambuk), from the kingdoms of Quiloa, and Mombaza, and Melindi; and they bring much cotton cloth of many colours, and white and blue, and some of silk; and grey, and red, and yellow beads, which come to the said kingdoms in other larger ships from the great kingdom of Cambay, which merchandise these Moors buy and collect from other Moors who bring them there, and they pay for them in gold by weight, and for a price which satisfies them; and the said Moors keep them and sell these cloths to the Gentiles of the kingdom of Benamatapa who come there laden with gold, which gold they give in exchange for the before mentioned cloths without weighing, and so much in quantity that these Moors usually gain one hundred for one. They also collect a large quantity of ivory, which is found all round Sofala, which they likewise sell in the great kingdom of Cambay at five or six ducats the hundred weight, and so also some amber, which these Moors of Sofala bring them from the Vciques. They are black men, and men of colour--some speak Arabic, and the rest make use of the language of the Gentiles of the country. They wrap themselves from the waist downwards with cloths of cotton and silk, and they wear other silk cloths above named, such as cloaks and wraps for the head, and some of them wear hoods of scarlet, and of other coloured woollen stuffs and camelets, and of other silks. And their victuals are millet, and rice, and meat, and fish. In this river near to the sea there are many sea horses, which go in the sea, and come out on land at times to feed. These have teeth like small elephants, and it is better ivory than that of the elephant, and whiter and harder, and of greater durability of colour. In the country all round Sofala there are many elephants, which are very large and wild, and the people of the country do not know how to tame them: there are also many lions, ounces, mountain panthers, wild asses, and many other animals. It is a country of plains and mountains, and well watered. The Moors have now recently begun to produce much fine cotton in this country, and they weave it into white stuff because they do not know how to dye it, or because they have not got any colours; and they take the blue or coloured stuffs of Cambay and unravel them, and again weave the threads with their white thread, and in this manner they make coloured stuffs, by means of which they get much gold. KINGDOM OF BENAMATAPA. On entering within this country of Sofala, there is the kingdom of Benamatapa, which is very large and peopled by Gentiles, whom the Moors call Cafers. These are brown men, who go bare, but covered from the waist downwards with coloured stuffs, or skins of wild animals; and the persons most in honour among them wear some of the tails of the skin behind them, which go trailing on the ground for state and show, and they make bounds and movements of their bodies, by which they make these tails wag on either side of them. They carry swords in scabbards of wood bound with gold or other metals, and they wear them on the left hand side as we do, in sashes of coloured stuffs, which they make for this purpose with four or five knots, and their tassels hanging down, like gentlemen; and in their hands azagayes, and others carry bows and arrows: it must be mentioned that the bows are of middle size, and the iron points of the arrows are very large and well wrought. They are men of war, and some of them are merchants: their women go naked as long as they are girls, only covering their middles with cotton cloths, and when they are married and have children, they wear other cloths over their breasts. ZINBAOCH.[9] Leaving Sofala for the interior of the country, at xv days journey from it, there is a large town of Gentiles, which is called Zinbaoch; and it has houses of wood and straw, in which town the King of Benamatapa frequently dwells, and from there to the city of Benamatapa there are six days journey, and the road goes from Sofala, inland, towards the Cape of Good Hope. And in the said Benamatapa, which is a very large town, the king is used to make his longest residence; and it is thence that the merchants bring to Sofala the gold which they sell to the Moors without weighing it, for coloured stuffs and beads of Cambay, which are much used and valued amongst them; and the people of this city of Benamatapa say that this gold comes from still further off towards the Cape of Good Hope, from another kingdom subject to this king of Benamatapa, who is a great lord, and holds many other kings as his subjects, and many other lands, which extend far inland, both towards the Cape of Good Hope and towards Mozambich. And in this town he is each day served with large presents, which the kings and lords, his subjects, send to him; and when they bring them, they carry them bareheaded through all the city, until they arrive at the palace, from whence the king sees them come from a window, and he orders them to be taken up from there, and the bearers do not see him, but only hear his words; and afterwards, he bids them call the persons who have brought these presents, and he dismisses them. This king constantly takes with him into the field a captain, whom they call Sono, with a great quantity of men-at-arms, and amongst them they bring six thousand women, who also bear arms and fight. With these forces he goes about subduing and pacifying whatever kings rise up or desire to revolt. The said king of Benamatapa sends, each year, many honourable persons throughout his kingdoms to all the towns and lordships, to give them new regulations, so that all may do them obeisance, which is in this manner: each one of the envoys comes to a town, and bids the people extinguish all the fires that there are in it; and after they have been put out, all the inhabitants go to this man who has been sent as commissary, to get fresh fire from him in sign of subjection and obedience; and, whoever should not do this is held as a rebel, and the king immediately sends the number of people that are necessary to destroy him, and these pass through all the towns at their expense: their rations are meat, rice, and oil of sesame.[10] RIVER ZUAMA. Leaving Sofala for Mozambich, at forty leagues from it, there is a very large river, which is called the Zuama;[11] and it is said that it goes towards Benamatapa,[12] and it extends more than 160 leagues. In the mouth of this river there is a town of the Moors, which has a king, and it is called Mongalo.[13] Much gold comes from Benamatapa to this town of the Moors, by this river, which makes another branch which falls at Angos, where the Moors make use of boats (almadias), which are boats hollowed out from a single trunk, to bring the cloths and other merchandise from Angos, and to transport much gold and ivory. ANGOY. After passing this river of Zuama, at xl leagues from it, there is a town of the Moors on the sea coast, which is called Angoy,[14] and has a king, and the Moors who live there are all merchants, and deal in gold, ivory, silk, and cotton stuffs, and beads of Cambay, the same as do those of Sofala. And the Moors bring these goods from Quiloa, and Monbaza, and Melynde, in small vessels hidden from the Portuguese ships; and they carry from there a great quantity of ivory, and much gold. And in this town of Angos there are plenty of provisions of millet, rice, and some kinds of meat. These men are very brown and copper coloured; they go naked from the waist upwards, and from thence downwards, they wrap themselves with cloths of cotton and silk, and wear other cloths folded after the fashion of cloaks, and some wear caps and others hoods, worked with stuffs and silks; and they speak the language belonging to the country, which is that of the Pagans, and some of them speak Arabic. These people are sometimes in obedience to the king of Portugal, and at times they throw it off, for they are a long way off from the Portuguese forts. MOZAMBIQUE ISLAND. Having passed this town of Anguox, on the way to India, there are very near to the land three islands, one of which is inhabited by Moors, and is called Mozambique.[15] It has a very good port, and all the Moors touch there who are sailing to Sofala, Zuama, or Anguox. Amongst these Moors there is a sheriff, who governs them, and does justice. These are of the language and customs of the Moors of Anguox, in which island the King of Portugal now holds a fort, and keeps the said Moors under his orders and government. At this island the Portuguese ships provide themselves with water and wood, fish and other kinds of provisions; and at this place they refit those ships which stand in need of repair. And from this island likewise the Portuguese fort in Sofala draws its supplies, both of Portuguese goods and of the produce of India, on account of the road being longer by the mainland. Opposite this island there are many very large elephants and wild animals. The country is inhabited by Gentiles, brutish people who go naked and smeared all over with coloured clay, and their natural parts wrapped in a strip of blue cotton stuff, without any other covering; and they have their lips pierced with three holes in each lip, and in these holes they wear bones stuck in, and claws, and small stones, and other little things dangling from them. ISLAND OF QUILOA. After passing this place and going towards India, there is another island close to the mainland, called Quiloa,[16] in which there is a town of the Moors, built of handsome houses of stone and lime, and very lofty, with their windows like those of the Christians; in the same way it has streets, and these houses have got their terraces, and the wood worked in with the masonry, with plenty of gardens, in which there are many fruit trees and much water. This island has got a king over it, and from hence there is trade with Sofala with ships, which carry much gold, which is dispersed thence through all Arabia Felix, for henceforward all this country is thus named on account of the shore of the sea being peopled with many towns and cities of the Moors; and when the King of Portugal discovered this land, the Moors of Sofala, and Zuama, and Anguox, and Mozambique, were all under obedience to the King of Quiloa, who was a great king amongst them. And there is much gold in this town, because all the ships which go to Sofala touch at this island, both in going and coming back. These people are Moors, of a dusky colour, and some of them are black and some white; they are very well dressed with rich cloths of gold, and silk, and cotton, and the women also go very well dressed out with much gold and silver in chains and bracelets on their arms, and legs, and ears. The speech of these people is Arabic, and they have got books of the Alcoran, and honour greatly their prophet Muhamad. This King, for his great pride, and for not being willing to obey the King of Portugal, had this town taken from him by force, and in it they killed and captured many people, and the King fled from the island, in which the King of Portugal ordered a fortress to be built, and thus he holds under his command and government those who continued to dwell there. ISLAND OF MOMBAZA. Passing Quiloa, and going along the coast of the said Arabia Felix towards India, close to the mainland there is another island, in which there is a city of the Moors, called Bombaza,[17] very large and beautiful, and built of high and handsome houses of stone and whitewash, and with very good streets, in the manner of those of Quiloa. And it also had a king over it. The people are of dusky white, and brown complexions, and likewise the women, who are much adorned with silk and gold stuffs. It is a town of great trade in goods, and has a good port, where there are always many ships, both of those that sail for Sofala and those that come from Cambay and Melinde, and others which sail to the islands of Zanzibar, Manfia, and Penda, which will be spoken of further on. This Monbaza is a country well supplied with plenty of provisions, very fine sheep, which have round tails, and many cows, chickens, and very large goats, much rice and millet, and plenty of oranges, sweet and bitter, and lemons, cedrats, pomegranates, Indian figs, and all sorts of vegetables, and very good water. The inhabitants at times are at war with the people of the continent, and at other times at peace, and trade with them, and obtain much honey and wax, and ivory. This King, for his pride and unwillingness to obey the King of Portugal, lost his city, and the Portuguese took it from him by force, and the King fled, and they killed and made captives many of his people, and the country was ravaged,[18] and much plunder was carried off from it of gold and silver, copper, ivory, rich stuffs of gold and silk, and much other valuable merchandize. MELINDE. After passing the city of Mombaza, at no great distance further on along the coast, there is a very handsome town on the mainland on the beach, called Melinde,[19] and it is a town of the Moors, which has a king. And this town has fine houses of stone and whitewash, of several stories, with their windows and terraces, and good streets. The inhabitants are dusky and black, and go naked from the waist upwards, and from that downwards they cover themselves with cloths of cotton and silk, and others wear wraps like cloaks, and handsome caps on their heads. The trade is great which they carry on in cloth, gold, ivory, copper, quicksilver, and much other merchandise, with both Moors and Gentiles of the kingdom of Cambay, who come to their port with ships laden with cloth, which they buy in exchange for gold, ivory, and wax. Both parties find great profit in this. There are plenty of provisions in this town, of rice, millet, and some wheat, which is brought to them from Cambay, and plenty of fruit, for there are many gardens and orchards. There are here many of the large-tailed sheep, and of all other meats as above; there are also oranges, sweet and sour. This King and people have always been very friendly and obedient to the King of Portugal, and the Portuguese have always met with much friendship and good reception amongst them.[20] ISLAND OF SAN LORENZO.[21] Opposite these places, in the sea above the Cape of the Currents,[22] at a distance of eighty leagues, there is a very large island, which is called San Lorenzo, and which is peopled by Gentiles, and has in it some towns of Moors. This island has many kings, both Moors and Gentiles. There is in it much meat, rice, and millet, and plenty of oranges and lemons, and there is much ginger in this country, which they do not make use of, except to eat it almost green. The inhabitants go naked, covering only their middles with cotton cloths. They do not navigate, nor does any one do so for them; they have got canoes for fishing on their coast. They are people of a dark complexion, and have a language of their own. They frequently are at war with one another, and their arms are azagayes, very sharp, with their points very well worked; they throw these in order to wound, and carry several of them in their hands. They are very well built and active men, and have a good method of wrestling. There is amongst them silver of inferior quality. Their principal food is roots, which they sow, and it is called yname,[23] and in the Indies of Spain it is called maize. The country is very beautiful and luxuriant in vegetation, and it has very large rivers. This island is in length from the part of Sofala and Melinde three hundred leagues, and to the mainland there are sixty leagues. PENDA, MANFIA, AND ZANZIBAR. Between this island of San Lorenzo and the continent, not very far from it, are three islands, which are called one Manfia, another Zanzibar, and the other Penda;[24] these are inhabited by Moors; they are very fertile islands, with plenty of provisions, rice, millet, and flesh, and abundant oranges, lemons, and cedrats. All the mountains are full of them; they produce many sugar canes, but do not know how to make sugar. These islands have their kings. The inhabitants trade with the mainland with their provisions and fruits; they have small vessels, very loosely and badly made, without decks, and with a single mast; all their planks are sewn together with cords of reed or matting, and the sails are of palm mats. They are very feeble people, with very few and despicable weapons. In these islands they live in great luxury, and abundance; they dress in very good cloths of silk and cotton, which they buy in Mombaza of the merchants from Cambay, who reside there. Their wives adorn themselves with many jewels of gold from Sofala, and silver, in chains, ear-rings, bracelets, and ankle rings, and are dressed in silk stuffs: and they have many mosques, and hold the Alcoran of Mahomed. PATE. After passing Melinde, and going towards India, they cross the Gulf (because the coast trends inwards) towards the Red Sea, and on the coast there is a town called Pate,[25] and further on there is another town of the Moors, called Lamon;[26] all these trade with the Gentiles of the country, and they are strongly-walled towns of stone and whitewash, because at times they have to fight with the Gentiles, who live in the interior of the country. BRAVA. Leaving these places, further on along the coast is a town of the Moors, well walled, and built of good houses of stone and whitewash, which is called Brava. It has not got a king; it is governed by its elders,[27] they being honoured and respectable persons. It is a place of trade, which has already been destroyed by the Portuguese, with great slaughter of the inhabitants, of whom many were made captives, and great riches in gold, silver, and other merchandise were taken here, and those who escaped fled into the country, and after the place was destroyed they returned to people it. MAGADOXO.[28] Leaving the before-mentioned town of Brava, on the coast further on towards the Red Sea, there is another very large and beautiful town, called Magadoxo, belonging to the Moors, and it has a king over it, and is a place of great trade in merchandise. Ships come there from the kingdom of Cambay and from Aden with stuffs of all sorts, and with other merchandise of all kinds, and with spices. And they carry away from there much gold, ivory, beeswax, and other things upon which they make a profit. In this town there is plenty of meat, wheat, barley, and horses, and much fruit; it is a very rich place. All the people speak Arabic; they are dusky, and black, and some of them white. They are but bad warriors, and use herbs with their arrows to defend themselves from their enemies. AFUNI.[29] Having passed the district and town of Magadoxo, further on along the coast is another small town of the Moors, called Afuni, in which there is abundance of meat and provisions. It is a place of little trade, and has got no port. CAPE GUARDAFUN. After passing this place the next after it is Cape Guardafun,[30] where the coast ends, and trends so as to double towards the Red Sea. This cape is in the mouth of the Strait of Mecca, and all the ships which come from India, that is to say, from the kingdom of Cambay, of Chaul, Dabul, Baticala, and Malabar, Ceylon, Choromandel, Bengal, Sumatra, Poggru, Tanaseri, Malacca, and China, all come to meet at this cape, and from it they enter into the before-mentioned Red Sea with their merchandise for Aden, Berbera, and Zeyla, and Guida, the port of Mecca, for which ships the ships of the King of Portugal sometimes go and lie in wait and take them with all their riches. MET. In doubling this Cape of Guardafun, towards the inner part of the Red Sea, there is, just near the said cape, a town of the Moors called Met,[31] not very large, where there is plenty of meat; it is of little trade. BARBARA. Further on, on the same coast, is a town of the Moors called Barbara;[32] it has a port, at which many ships of Adeni and Cambay touch with their merchandise, and from there those of Cambay carry away much gold, and ivory, and other things, and those of Aden take many provisions, meat, honey, and wax, because, as they say, it is a very abundant country. ZEYLA. Having passed this town of Berbara, and going on, entering the Red Sea, there is another town of the Moors, which is named Zeyla,[33] which is a good place of trade, whither many ships navigate and sell their cloths and merchandise. It is very populous, with good houses of stone and whitewash, and good streets; the houses are covered with terraces, the dwellers in them are black. They have many horses, and breed much cattle of all sorts, which they make use of for milk, and butter, and meat. There is in this country abundance of wheat, millet, barley, and fruits, which they carry thence to Aden. DALAQUA. After continuing along the coast from the town of Zeyla, there is another place of the Moors, called Dalaqua,[34] the seaport which is most made use of by the Abaxins[35] of the country of Prester John. And all round this place there are much provisions, and much gold comes there from the country of Prester John. MASAVA SAVAQUIN[36] AND OTHER PLACES. Leaving Dalaqua for the interior of the Red Sea, there are Massowa, Suakin, and other towns of the Moors; and this coast is still called Arabia Felix, and the Moors call it Barra Ajan,[37] in all which there is much gold which comes from the interior of the country of Prester John, whom they call Abexi. All these places on this coast trade with the country with their cloths and other merchandise, and they bring from it gold, ivory, honey, wax and slaves; and sometimes they are at war with them, for they are Christians, and they capture many of them; and such captives are much valued by the Moors, and amongst them are worth much more money than other slaves because they find them sharp and faithful, and well-built men in body, and when they turn Moors, they become greater emperors than the original Moors. These Moors of Arabia Felix are all black[38] and good fighting men; they go bare from the waist upwards, and from thence downwards they cover themselves with cloths of cotton; and the more honourable men amongst them wear their cloths over them like Almalafas,[39] and the women are covered in the same way:[40]... KINGDOM OF PRESTER JOHN. Leaving these towns of the Moors and entering into the interior of the country, the great kingdom of Prester John is to be found, whom the Moors of Arabia call Abexi;[41] this kingdom is very large, and peopled with many cities, towns, and villages, with many inhabitants: and it has many kings subject to it and tributary kings. And in their country there are many who live in the fields and mountains, like Beduins: they are black men, very well made: they have many horses, and make use of them, and are good riders, and there are great sportsmen and hunters amongst them. Their provisions are flesh of all kinds, milk, butter, and wheaten bread, and of these things there is a great abundance. Their clothes are of hides because the country is wanting in cloths; and there is a law amongst them by which certain families and ranks of persons may wear cloths, and the rest of the people may wear only hides well dressed and tanned. Amongst them there are men and women who have never drunk water, but only milk, which greatly supports them, and quenches the thirst, on account of its being more healthy and substantial, and there is great abundance of it in the country. These people are Christians of the doctrine of the blessed Saint Bartholomew, as they say; and their baptism is in three kinds, of blood, fire, and water: that is to say, that they circumcise themselves, and mark themselves on the temples and forehead with fire, and also in water, like the Catholic Christians. Many of them are deficient in our true faith, because the country is very large, and whilst in the principal city of Babel Malech, where Prester John resides, they may be Christians, in many other distant parts they live in error and without being taught; so that they are only Christians in name. BABEL MELECH. In the interior of this country is the great city of Babel Melech,[42] where Prester John holds his residence. The Moors call him the great King of the Habeshys: he is Christian, and lord of many extensive countries and numerous people, with whom he makes subject many great kings. He is very rich, and possesses more gold than any other prince. This Prester John holds a very large court, and he keeps many men at arms continually in his pay, whom he takes about with him. He goes out very rarely from his dwelling; many kings and great lords come to visit him. In this city a great feast takes place in the month of August, for which so many kings and nobles come together, and so many people that they are innumerable: and on this day of the feast in August they take an image out of a church, which is believed to be that of Our Lady, or that of St. Bartholomew, which image is of gold and of the size of a man; its eyes are of very large and beautiful rubies of great value, and the whole of it is adorned with many precious stones of much value, and placing it in a great chariot of gold, they carry it in procession with very great veneration and ceremony, and Prester John goes in front of this car in another gold car, very richly dressed in cloth of gold with much jewellery. And they begin to go out thus in the morning, and go in procession through all the city with much music of all sorts of instruments, until the evening, when they go home. And so many people throng to this procession, that in order to arrive at the car of the image many die of being squeezed and suffocated; and those who die in this wise are held as saints and martyrs; and many old men and old women go with a good will to die in this manner. SUEZ. Leaving this country of Prester John and the coast of the sea of Arabia Felix, and turning to the other part of the Red Sea, which is also called Arabia, and the Moors call it Barra Arab, there is a village, a seaport called Suez,[43] and thither the Moors of Guida, the port of Mecca, bring all the spices, drugs, precious stones, seed pearl, amber, musk, and other merchandise of great value from the parts about India; and from there they load them on camels to carry them by land to Cairo, and from Cairo other merchants carry them to Alexandria; and from there the Venetians and other Christians usually export them. And this trade now, in a great measure, ceases on account of the Portuguese, whose fleets prohibit the navigation of the Moors from India to the Red Sea.[44] And the Great Sultan, lord of Cairo, who loses most by this, ordered a fleet to be built in the port of Suez, for which he had the wood and artillery, and other equipments transported by land, in which much money was expended; and this fleet was of ships and galleys, in order to pass with it to India and there forbid the Portuguese from cruising. And when this fleet was built many people of different nations went with it to the first India, which is the Kingdom of Cambay; and the Captain of it was Amir Uçen,[45] and with this fleet they met that of Portugal in front of a city named Dyu, and there they fought vigorously, and many people were killed, and at last the Moors, Turks, and Mamelukes were conquered and all their fleet was taken and part of it burned, and on this account and several other victories which the Portuguese gained over the before-mentioned Moors, they lost their navigation in the Red Sea, and the said port of Suez remains without the trade in spices. MOUNT SINAI. Near the said city of Suez there is in the country of Arabia on the Red Sea, the mountain of Sinai, where lies the blessed Saint Catharine in a church, in which there are Christian friars, under the lordship of the Sultan, to which building the devout of all Christian countries come in pilgrimage, and the chief part of those that throng thither are from the country of Prester John and Armenia, Babilonia, Constantinople, and Jerusalem. ELIOBON AND MEDINA. Having passed Mount Sinai, which the Moors call Tur, along the coast of the Red Sea going out of it, there is a village of the Moors, a seaport called Eliobon,[46] and it is a port where they disembark for Medina, which is another town of the Moors, up the country at three days' journey from the port, and the body of Mahomed is buried in it. GUIDA PORT OF MECA. Leaving the port of Eliobon to go out of the Red Sea, there is a town of the Moors, called Guida, and it is the port of Mecca, whither the ships used to come every year from India with spices and drugs, and they returned thence to Calicut with much copper, quicksilver, vermillion, saffron, rose-water, scarlet silks, camelots, tafetans and other goods, of stuffs used in India, and also with much gold and silver; and the trade was very great and profitable. And from this port of Guida these spices and drugs were transported in small vessels to Suez, as has been already said. MECA. At one day's journey up the country from the port of Guida is the great city of Meca, in which there is a very large mosque, to which all the Moors from all parts go in pilgrimage, and they hold for certain that they are saved by washing with the water of a well which is in this mosque: and they carry it away from there in bottles to their countries as a great relic. In the aforesaid Guida port of Mecca a fortress has been lately built by Emir Hussein, the Moorish captain of the ships of the Sultan, which the Portuguese destroyed in India: this captain when he saw himself defeated, did not dare return to his country without performing some service to his king, and he decided on begging of the King of Cambay (who is called Sultan Mahamud) assistance in money, and so also from the nobles and merchants of his kingdom and from other Moorish kings, in order to construct this fortress, saying: that since the Portuguese, (whom they call Franks) were so powerful, it would not be wonderful if they were to come into this port and were to go and destroy the house of Mahomet. And these Moorish kings and people hearing his petition, and seeing the power of the King of Portugal, it seemed to them that this might come to pass, and thus all gave him great gifts, by means of which he loaded three ships with spices and other merchandise, and went with them to the Red Sea, and arrived at Guida, where he sold them, and with the money he made the said fortress, and during the time that he was building it, the Portuguese were making another inside the town of Calicut,[47] and the King of Calicut begged the Captain Major of the King of Portugal to give him permission to send then a ship laden with spices to Mecca. And this permission was given him, and the ship was sent. And there went in it as captain an honourable person of the Moors named Califa, and he arrived at Guida the port of Mecca, where he came on shore very well dressed out, along with his people, and he found Emir Hussein building his fortress, and was asked by him news of the Portuguese. And this Califa answered him, telling him how they were in great peace at Calicut, and making a handsome fortress. And Emir Hussein asked him, how dare you come to Mecca being a friend of the Portuguese? Califa answered him, I am a merchant and am unable to do anything, but you who are a captain of the great Sultan if you go to India to turn them out of it, how came you to leave them there, and to make a fortress here? At which Emir Hussein was much put out, and ordered Califa immediately, and well dressed as he was, to take stones and mortar, he and his people, and help to build the fortress: and he made him work for the space of an hour.[48] And Califa related this in Calicut later when he returned there.[49] JAZAN, HALI, ALHOR. Leaving Jiddah the port of Mekkah, to go out of the Red Sea there are three towns of the Moors, which have got kings over them, one is called Jazan,[50] another Hali, and the other Alhor; in these there are many horses and plenty of provisions. This king does not obey the Sultan nor any other king whatever; he holds many countries under him in which he has many towns with many sea ports, from which the Moorish merchants used to export a few horses to India in their merchant ships, because there they are worth a good deal. HODEYDA, MAHA, BABEL MENDE. Having passed these places and kingdom, there are three places further on the coast which belong to the kingdom of Aden; the one they call Hodeyda, the other Maha,[51] the other Babelmende, which is in the mouth of the strait of the Red Sea where the ships enter it, and at this place the ships take pilots as far as Jiddah, who live by it. ISLAND OF CAMARON. In the sea of these other places, there is a small island called Camaron,[52] inhabited by Moors, in which the ships were accustomed to take refreshments when they passed by it to Jiddah. This island was ravaged by Alonso de Alboquerque, captain of the King of Portugal; and he staid there for some days repairing his fleet in order to leave the Red Sea, for the season did not allow him to go as far as Jiddah, to which he wished to arrive. ADEM. Coming out of the Red Sea by Babelmendel, which is in the straits, as has been said, towards the open sea, further on the coast there are several towns of Moors, which all belong to the kingdom of Aden, and having passed these villages you arrive at the town of Aden, which belongs to the Moors, and has a king over it. It is a very handsome city, with very large and fine houses, and a place of much trade, with good streets, and surrounded with a strong wall in their fashion. This city is on a point between a mountain and the sea; and this mountain ridge on the side of the main land is a precipitous rock, in such manner that on that side it has no more than one entrance, and on the top of this ridge, where the town is, there are many small towers, which look very pretty from the sea. Inside the city there is no water at all, and outside of the gate towards the main land there is a building to which they make water come in pipes from another mountain at some little distance from there, and between one ridge and the other ridge there was a great plain. In this city there are great Moorish merchants, and many Jews.[53] They are white men, a few of them black, they dress in cloth of cotton, silk, scarlet wool, and camelots. Their clothes are long robes, and they wear caps on their heads, and with low shoes on their feet. Their victuals are plenty of meat, wheaten bread, and rice which comes from India: there is plenty of fruit as in our parts, and there are in this place many horses and camels. The king is always in the interior of the country, and he maintains his governor in this city. Many ships, great and small, come there from many parts; that is to say, from Jiddah, whence they bring them much copper and quicksilver, and vermillion, coral, cloths of wool and silk. And they take from here in return spices, drugs, cotton cloths, and other things from Cambay, with provisions and other goods. Many ships also touch there from Zeyla and Berbera with provisions and other goods, and carry away from there stuffs from Cambay, alaquequas,[54] and large and small beads perforated for stringing, with which they trade in Arabia Felix, and in the country of Prester John. Some ships from Ormuz likewise touch there to trade, and also from Cambay, whence they bring much cotton stuff, spices, drugs, jewels and pearls, alaquequas, spun cotton, and unspun; and they take from these madder, opium, raisins, copper, quicksilver, vermillion, rose-water which they make there, woollen and silk stuffs, coloured stuffs from Mecca, and gold in ingots or coined, and thread and camelots. And these ships of Cambay are so many and so large, and with so much merchandise, that it is a terrible thing to think of so great an expenditure of cotton stuffs as they bring. There come likewise to this port of Aden many ships from Chaul and Dabul, and from Bengal and the country of Calicut; they used to come there with the before-mentioned goods and with a large quantity of rice and sugar, and cocoa-nuts which grow on the palm trees, and which are like nuts in flavour, and with the kernels[55] they make drinking cups. There also arrive there ships from Bengal, Samatra, and Malaca, which bring much spices and drugs, silks, benzoin, alacar,[56] sandal-wood, aloes-wood, rhubarb, musk, and much cotton stuffs from Bengal and Mangala,[57] so that it is a place of as much trade as there can be in the world, and of the richest merchandise. The fleet and armament of the King of Portugal came to this city, and took and burned in its harbour several ships laden with much merchandise, and several empty ships, and it made an assault to enter the town, and mounted the walls with scaling ladders, which broke with the weight of the many people on them; so that the Portuguese went out again, and abandoned the town: and at this entry the Moors defended themselves very vigorously, and many of them died, and some of the Christians. KINGDOM OF FARTACH. Having passed the said kingdom of Aden, going out of the strait towards the East, there is another kingdom of the Moors about twenty-five leagues off, near the sea, it has three or four towns on the coast, and they are called Xebech, Diufar,[58] and Fartach.[59] These Moors have got a king over them and are very good fighting men: they have got horses which they make use of in war, and good arms with short blades; the said king is subject to the King of Aden and is his servant. CAPE FARTACH AND THE ISLAND OF SACOTORA. In this country and kingdom there is a cape which is called Cape Fartach, where the coast turns and makes a bend towards the said sea between north-east and east,[60] and between this cape and that of Guardafun, is the mouth of the strait of Mecca, which runs north-west and south-east,[61] and it is xl leagues in width, where all the ships pass for those voyages and to the Red Sea. Above Cape Guardafun, to the north-east by east, twenty-seven leagues off, is an island called Sacotora, with very high mountains, it is inhabited by dusky people, who are said to be Christians; but they are deficient in the teaching of the Christian law and baptism, and have got only the name of Christians: they have in their chapels crosses, +.[62] It was in former times a country of Christians, and the Christian doctrine was lost there on account of Christian navigation having ceased there; and the Moors say that this was an island of Amazons, who later in the course of time mixed with men, and something of this appears to be the case, since there the women administer property and manage it, without the husbands having a voice in the matter. These people have a language of their own; they go without clothes, and only cover their nakedness with cotton cloths and skins: they have many cows and sheep, and date palms. Their victuals are meat, milk, and dates. In this island there is much dragon's blood[63] and aloes of Socotra. And the Moors of Fartach built in it a fortress, to subjugate them, and turn them Moors; and some of those that lived around the fortress were Moors, and served the Moors of the fort like their slaves, both in their persons and property. A fleet of the King of Portugal arrived at this island, and took this fortress by force of arms from the Moors of Fartach, fighting with them: and they defended themselves much more vigorously than any men of these parts; so that they never would give themselves up, and all died in the fight, for none of them escaped; so that they are very good and daring fighting men. The Captain of this fleet left troops and artillery in this fortress in order to keep it in the name of the King of Portugal. And quite near to this island of Sacotora there are two other islands inhabited by coloured people and blacks, like the people of the Canary Islands, without law or knowledge, and they have no dealings with any other people. In these two islands much amber and of good quality is found, and many shells of the valuable and precious kind in the mine, and much dragon's blood and aloes of Socotra; and there are large flocks of sheep and oxen. DIUFAR. Leaving Cape Fartach towards the coast of the open sea to the north-east by east, going along the coast L leagues off is a town of the Moors and seaport called Diufar,[64] a city of the kingdom of Fartach, in which the Moors of Cambay trade in cotton stuffs, rice, and other goods. XEHER.[65] Further on from this place, in the direction of the same wind, at xx leagues off, along the same coast, is another town of the Moors, called Xeher; it also belongs to the kingdom of Fartach, and is very large; it has a large trade in the stuffs, which the Moors of Cambay, Chaul, Dabul, and Baticala, and the country of Malabar, bring in their ships to this port and town of Xeher; these are coarse and fine cotton stuffs, with which they clothe themselves; granates on strings and several other jewels of small value, much rice, sugar, and spice of all kinds, cocoa-nuts, and other goods, which they sell there to the merchants of the country, who carry them from there to Aden and all this part of Arabia. And the importers afterwards employ the money in horses for India: these are very large and very good, and each one of them in India is worth five or six hundred ducats. And they also take from there much wormwood,[66] which grows in that country. And in the interior of the country all the people are Beduins: in this country there is much wheat and plenty of meat and dates, grapes, and all other fruits which are in our parts. And all the ships which sail from India for the Red Sea, and having been delayed cannot arrive in good time[67] with their merchandise at the place of their destination, remain to sell them in this port of Xeher, and from there they go to India along the coast to Cambay. And so this port is large and of much trade at all times. This King of Fartach is, with the whole of his kingdom, in obedience to the King of Aden, because he holds a brother of his a prisoner. The wormwood which grows in this country of Xeher is carried from here to all the world, and the ships of this place load[68] the said wormwood, which is there worth a hundred and fifty maravedis the hundred weight. FASALHAD. Having passed this town of Xeher, along the coast there are other small towns, and Beduins in the interior of the country. This coast lasts as far as Cape Fasalhat, which is xxv leagues from Xeher, between north-east and east, where the kingdom and rule of the King of Ormuz begins. At this cape there is a fortress which the King of Ormuz holds there which is called Cor: and from there the coast begins to bend inwards towards Ormuz. KINGDOM OF ORMUZ. After passing this Cape of Fasalhat along the coast to the north-east, there are many towns and castles of the kingdom of Ormuz in Arabia, fifty leagues to the north-east, and then twenty-five leagues to the east, and as much again to the north-east and north, and then it makes a bay to the north-west for twelve leagues, and turns to the north-east twenty-five leagues as far as Cape Refalcate,[69] and then it turns to the north-west, making bays until Madea, which are eighty-six leagues off, and from there it trends to the north-east by north thirty leagues until Cape Mocondon,[70] which is at the mouth of the sea of Persia, which is twelve leagues in width, and on this sea also further on, this rule and lordship continue to extend, and there are in it many towns and forts; and islands which are in the midst of the said sea of Persia, inhabited by Moors. These places belonging to this kingdom are the following. In the beginning of this kingdom on the coast outside of this sea of Persia, is:-- First Calhat,[71] a very large town of handsome houses, and well situated; the inhabitants are rich nobles and merchants: it is forty-four leagues from Cape Fasalhat. Thirty-two leagues further on there is another small place called Tybi, which has good water with which the ships navigating all this coast provide themselves. Twenty-five leagues further on is another small place called Daxnia, also a seaport. Thirty leagues further on is another large place which is a very good town of much trade in merchandise, which is called Curiat,[72] in which, as well as in the others in the neighbourhood, there is plenty of meat, wheat, dates, and other fruit in abundance: there are plenty of horses, which are bred in the country, and they are very good, and the Moors of Ormuz come to buy them for exportation to India. Leaving this town of Curiat, at twelve leagues along the coast is another place with a fortress which is called Sar,[73] which the King of Ormuz keeps there. Having doubled the Cape of Resalcate, the coast turns to the sea of Persia. Forty leagues further on from this cape is another town upon the coast itself called Mazquate. It is a large town, and of very honourable people, and of much trade in merchandise, and a place of great fisheries: they catch large fish there, which they export dried and salted to other parts. Going along the coast further on to the sea of Persia there is at a distance of ten leagues another place called Sohar.[74] Leaving this town of Sohar, further inland from the coast, at fourteen leagues off is another fortress of the King of Ormuz called Rosach; and with these fortresses this king is better able to keep all this country in subjection. Having passed the fortress of Rosach, there is another fortress called Nahel twelve leagues off. Twelve leagues further on is another place they call Madeha; it is a small place, of few inhabitants, inside the mouth of the Sea of Persia, thirty leagues to the south-west.[75] Further on, there is a large place of many inhabitants called Corfasan,[76] around which and the other neighbouring places are many very agreeable country houses belonging to the chief men and most honoured of the Moors of Ormuz, who come during certain months of the year there to repose, and to collect their provisions, and enjoy their fruit. Fifteen leagues further on there is another place on the coast, called Dadena. As much again further on to the south-west, another place called Daba. Further on, on the coast to the south-west by west, at a distance of lxxxv leagues, is another very large town called Julfar,[77] where there are many very respectable people, and many merchants and sailors. And there they fish up many large pearls and seed pearls, which the merchants of the city of Ormuz come there to buy, to carry them to India and other parts. This place is one of much trade, and produces a great deal to the king of Ormuz. Further along the coast of the Persian Sea, in the before-mentioned inner part, are three other places belonging to the king of Ormuz: Raçolhiman,[78] which is a good town, at a distance of twenty-four leagues, and another beyond this, called Melquehoan,[79] and six leagues further on there is a fortress called Calba,[80] which the king maintains to defend his country from the Bedouins, who live in the interior of the country, and who are governed by sheikhs; and at times they go against these towns of the kingdom of Ormuz, and make war upon them, and sometimes they make them rebel against the king. This king of Ormuz possesses, besides these places already mentioned, on the coast of Arabia, many other towns in the country of Persia, on the sea-coast, and in the midst of the Persian Sea many islands inhabited by Moors, in which he has many large towns, very rich and handsome, all of which are named separately further on, and afterwards the island and city of Ormuz and its customs are mentioned. On this coast the king of Ormuz has a town called Baha,[81] in which he maintains his governors. Having passed this place, further along the coast is another place called Dexar. Further on another place called Xahen. Further on another place called Ygun.[82] Further on another place called El-guadun. Further on another place called Nabani,[83] from which place they carry much water to drink to Ormuz, because there is no drinkable water there; and from this and all those other places they carry to Ormuz all its supplies. Further on is another place called Guan-meda, and from there further on there are also some other places belonging to the king of Ormuz, which are the following--Lefete, Quesebi,[84] and from here further on the coast turns to the north-west by north as far as the mouth of the river Eufrates, and it begins here to be a wide estuary. Berohu,[85] Caljar, Xuza, Mohimasim,[86] Lima,[87] Gorbaz, Alguefa, Carmon.[88] Which lasts two hundred and forty leagues, and then Bazera, a castle of Sophi. At the entrance of the river Eufrates the land turns to the sea in a southerly direction eighty leagues, and then returns as much again to the north, and after that turns again to the south, when there begin these towns--Cohomo, Barque Guex,[89] Ganguan, Basido,[90] Goxtaque, Conch, Conga, Ebrahemi,[91] and as far as this there are one hundred and sixty-five leagues, and after that Xenase,[92] Menahao Xamile, Leytam, Bamtani, Doani,[93] and from this point the coast trends to the east for a distance of thirty leagues as far as Lorom.[94] Between these places there are many large towns with much trade, and very respectable inhabitants, and great merchants; and many castles, which the King of Ormuz maintains for the defence of his country, and they are all on the coast of the Persian Sea. They are places abundantly supplied with meat and wheaten bread, barley, vines, and all other things which are found in our parts, and many dates; and the inhabitants of these towns are white, and very polite people; they dress in long clothes of silk and cotton stuffs and camelots; and this is a very rich country. THE ISLANDS OF THE KINGDOM OF ORMUZ. In the mouth of this sea of Persia there are the following islands belonging to the king of Ormuz. Cuyx, Andrany,[95] Baxeal, _Quiro_,[96] _Lar_,[97] Cojar,[98] Tomon,[99] _Firror_ Guolar, Melugan,[100] Gory, Queximi,[101] Baharem.[102] These two islands of Queximi and Baharem are large; and Queximi has eight inhabited towns and has plenty of provisions. Baharem has a large town of many Moors, important and honourable personages. And it is distant from Lorom to the north-east xxxiv leagues, and to the island of Queximi fifty leagues of channel; and between it and the mainland from two to four leagues; and after that the coast turns between north-east and east, until the island of Ormuz for xxxv leagues, of which island mention is made lower down.[103] Merchants from many parts reside in this island, and it is situated in the middle of this sea, and many ships with great merchandise sail to it; and here and in the neighbourhood much seed pearl and many pearls are produced, and they fish them on the island itself, from which there is a great profit to the inhabitants; and the king draws from this island and from all the others large revenues. The merchants of Ormuz go to this island of Baharem to buy the pearls and seed pearl for India and other parts where they find it profitable, and for the kingdom of Narsinga; and also those of Persia and Arabia go there to buy them, and in all this sea of Persia these pearls are found, but not in such quantity as in this island of Baharem. COUNTRY OF SHEIKH ISMAIL. After passing these countries along the coast of Persia, there are many towns, places, and villages of the Moors, very handsome and rich enough. From here further on it is no longer the country of the king of Ormuz, but belongs to other lords, of whom we do not possess so much information, except that Xeque Yzmael[104] subjugates and governs them. He is a Moor, and a young man, who in a short time has subjugated these parts, and a great part of Persia and Arabia, and many kingdoms and lordships of the Moors, not being a king nor the son of a king, except that he was only a sheikh of the house and lineage of Aly, the brother-in-law[105] of Mahomed; and, being poor, he united with other young Moors, and they took up the habit of going without clothes, which is a custom amongst them; they abandoned their property, honours, and clothes, and only covered themselves with skins of goats, and leopards, and deer with the fur, which many are in the habit of carrying, and they mark their arms and breasts with many scars of burns; and they carry heavy iron chains, and in their hands some weapons, different from those of other people, such as small battle-axes of much workmanship, and iron maces; they go as pilgrims, and do not sustain themselves except by alms; and to such people, wherever they go, much honour and entertainment is shown by the other Moors; and they always go shouting and crying out in the villages the name of Mahomet. So this Sheikh Ismail took this habit, and determined to shout and cry out for Aly, whilst he took no heed of Mahomed. Many people began to collect round him, so that he began soon to take towns and to grant property to the persons who flocked to him, and were with him at a conquest; and, in case they took nothing, he decided on making some hoods of scarlet wool, of ample dimensions, and ordering them to be worn by the persons who followed him;[106] thus he collected many people, and with them he went on taking many towns, and making war in many parts; and he did not choose to be called king, but the leveller of property, who took from those who had much, and gave to those who had little; neither did he choose to rest in any place. But all that he conquered he gave away and distributed to those who followed and obeyed him; whenever he found any very rich people whose riches did not profit any one, he took them away and distributed them amongst honourable people and the poor; and to the owners of the property he left a share equal to that which he gave to each one of the others; this he did many times, on which account they called him the Equaller. This king sent ambassadors to all the Moorish kings to persuade them to wear those coloured hoods, and if they did not choose to accept them, he sent to challenge them, and to say that he would come against them, to take their country, and make them believe in Aly. He sent this embassy to the great Sultan of Cairo and to the Grand Turk, who gave him a hostile answer and made a league against him. As soon as Sheikh Ismail saw their answers he determined to go against the Grand Turk, and he went against him with large forces, horse and foot, and the Turk came out to receive him, and they had a great battle,[107] in which the Grand Turk was the conqueror, on account of the quantity of artillery which he brought with him, which Sheikh Ismail did not bring, and he only fought with his men with the strength of their arms. They killed there many of his people, and he took to flight, and the Turk followed him, killing many of his troops, until he left him within Persia, when he returned thence to Turkey. This was the first time that this Sheikh Ismail was routed, for which he said that he wished to return to Turkey with greater power and provided with artillery. This king ruled over a part of Babilonia, and Armenia, and Persia, and a large part of Arabia, and of India, near to the kingdom of Cambay. His design was to get into his hands the house of Mekkah. This sheikh sent an embassy with many presents to the captain of the king of Portugal, who was exercising his functions in India, and asked him to agree to peace and friendship. And the Portuguese captain-major received this embassy and presents, and in return sent another embassy.[108] At the extremity of this Sea of Persia there is, as has been said, a fortress called Basera, inhabited by Moors, in subjection to Sheikh Ismail, at which there comes out from the mainland to the sea a very large and beautiful river of good fresh water, which is called Frataha.[109] This is said to be one of the four rivers which flow out of the terrestrial Paradise, which river is the Eufrates, and these Moors say it has sixty thousand branches, and that one of the principal ones comes out at the kingdom of Dahulcino, in which is the first India, which we call the river Indus; and the river Ganges is the other branch, which comes out in the second India to the sea; and the Nile, which is another branch, which comes through the country of Prester John, and waters Cairo.[110] ISLAND AND CITY OF ORMUZ. On coming out of the Sea and Strait of Persia, in its mouth there is a small island, in which is the city of Ormuz, which is small and very handsome, and with very pretty houses, lofty, of stone, whitewash, and mortar, covered with terraces, and because the country is very hot, they have fans made in such a manner that they make the air come from their summits to the lower part of the houses and rooms. It is a very well situated town, which has very good streets and squares. Outside of this city, in the island itself, there is a small mountain, which is entirely of rock salt and sulphur; this salt is in great lumps, and very white and good: they call it Indian salt, because nature produces it there; and the ships which come there from all parts take this salt as ballast, because in all other parts it is worth much money. The inhabitants of this island and city are Persians and Arabs, and they speak Arabic and another language which they call Persian. They are very white, and good-looking people, of handsome bodies, both men and women; and there are amongst them black and coloured people also, who are from the country of Arabia. And the Persians, who are very white, are fat and luxurious people, who live very well. They are very voluptuous, and have musicians with various instruments. There are among them very rich merchants, and many ships, because they have a good port, and they trade in many kinds of goods, which are imported there from many parts, and exported thence to other parts of India. They bring there all sorts of spices, drugs, precious stones, and other goods, such as pepper, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, mace, nutmeg, long pepper, aloes-wood, sandal-wood, brasil-wood, balsam, tamarinds, Indian saffron, beeswax, iron, sugar, rice, cocoa-nuts, rubies, sapphires, giagonzas,[111] amethysts, topazes, chrysolites, hyacinths, porcelain, benzoin; and upon all these goods much money is made, and many stuffs from the kingdom of Cambay, Chaul, Dabul, and Bengala, which are called Sinabasos, Chautars, Mamonas, Dugasas, Soranatis, which are kinds of stuffs of cotton very much valued amongst them for caps and shirts, which are much made use of by the Arabs and Persians, and people of Cairo, Aden, and Alexandria. They also bring to this city of Ormuz, quicksilver, vermillion, rose-water, brocade and silk stuffs, scarlet woollens, coarse camelots, and silk. And from China and Catuy they bring to this city by land much fine silk in skeins, and very rare musk and rhubarb;[112] and they bring from Babilonia very fine torquoises, and some emeralds, and very fine lapis lazuli from Acar. And from Baharem and Julfar they bring much seed pearl and large pearls, and many horses from Arabia and Persia, of which they carry away to India every year as many as five or six hundred, and at times a thousand; and the ships which export these horses load much salt, dates, and raisins, and sulphur, and of the other goods which the Indians are pleased with. These Moors of Ormuz are very well dressed, with very white, long, and fine cotton shirts, and their fine drawers[113] of cotton, and above that, very rich silk clothes and camelots, scarlet cloth, and very rich gauzes, with which they wrap their waists[114], and they wear in their girdles daggers and knives, ornamented with gold and silver, and some heavy short swords, all adorned with gold and silver, according to the rank of the wearers: and large round shields, richly garnished with silk, and in their hands they carry Turkish bows, painted with gold and very pretty colours, and their cords are of silk. These bows are of stiff wood and of buffaloe's horn; they carry very far, and these people are very good archers; their arrows are slender and well worked. Others carry in their hands iron maces, well wrought and elegant; others again, battle-axes of various patterns and of very good temper, and inlaid or enamelled.[115] They are very agreeable and polite people, and very civil in their mutual relations. Their food is of very good meats, very well cooked, wheaten bread, and very good rice, and many other dishes very well prepared, and many kinds of conserves, and preserved fruits, and others fresh: that is to say, apples, pomegranates, peaches, apricots, figs, almonds, melons, radishes, salads, and all the other things which there are in Spain; dates of many kinds, and other eatables and fruits not used in our parts. They drink wine of grapes in secret, because their law forbids it them; and the water which they drink is flavoured with pistachio nuts, and set to cool, for which purpose they employ and seek many methods for cooling and preserving it cool. And all the noblemen and honourable merchants always take, wherever they go, both in the streets and public places, and on the road, a page with a bottle of water, which is covered underneath with silver, or with a silver cup, as much for state and show as for use and comfort. All these people possess gardens and farms, to which they go to enjoy themselves for some months of the year.[116] This city of Ormuz is, as has been said, very rich and well supplied with everything in the way of provisions, but everything is very dear, because it is brought by sea from the towns of Arabia and Persia, for in the island there is nothing that can be made use of except salt; neither have they water to drink, for they bring it each day in boats from the mainland or other neighbouring islands. But for all that, the squares are full of all sorts of things, and everything is sold by weight, and with great order and regulation. And they give a very proper punishment to whoever falsifies the weights or sells above the regulation price; and they also sell cooked and roasted meat by weight, and so with all other cooked victuals; and all these so well arranged and so clean that many people do not have cooking done in their houses, but eat in the squares. The king is always in this city of Ormuz, in which he has some beautiful palaces, and a fortress, where he has his residence, and where he keeps his treasury; and there he holds all his court, and out of it provides governors or judges for all his states and lordships. But it is his council that does everything; and he does not meddle with any affair, but only amuses himself, neither would it have been in his power to do otherwise; for if he wished to govern in person, and wished to be free and exempt like other kings, immediately they would put his eyes out, and would put him in a house with his wife, and maintain him there miserably; and they would raise up another son of his as king, or some one else more fitting for it, of his lineage, in order that his council may govern all his kingdoms and territories peacefully in his name. And with respect to all the other heirs of the kingdom, as they grow up and become persons able to command and govern, if it should appear to the council that they desire to meddle with the government, they take them and put their eyes out also, and put them also in a house; so that there are always ten or twelve of these blind men, and those who reign live with this fear before them.[117] They give food there to them and to their wives and children. This king has many men-at-arms, and many gentlemen who guard and serve him, and they receive very good pay and rations, and are always at the court with their arms; and they send some to the frontiers on the mainland whenever they are required. They make gold and silver money in this city; the gold coins are called Sarafin, and are worth three hundred maravedis, and most of them are halves, which are worth a hundred and fifty, a round coin like ours,[118] and with Moorish letters on both sides, and about the size of a fanon of Calicut, with Moorish letters, and it is worth fifty-five maravedis; they call these tanga, and they are of very fine silver, and of the standard of twelve dinars.[119] There is a large quantity of this money, both gold and silver, and much of it goes out to India, where it has much currency. There came a Portuguese fleet to this kingdom of Ormuz, and its captain-major was Alfonso de Alborquerque, who attempted to come to an understanding with this kingdom of Ormuz, but the Moors would not agree, and on that account this captain began to make war upon the whole kingdom at all the seaports, and he did them much injury, and at last he came and touched at the port of Ormuz with his fleet, and there was a great battle there, with many and great ships full of many and smart well-armed men. And the said captain routed the fleet of the Moors, and killed many of them, and sunk many of their ships, and took and burned many which were moored in the harbour, drawn up by the wall of the city. And when the king and the governors of the country saw such great destruction of their people and ships, without being able to assist them, they offered peace to the before-mentioned captain, who accepted it under the condition that they should let him make a fortress at one extremity of the city; and they agreed, and this began to be done; and the work having commenced, the Moors repented again, and did not choose that more should be built; and then the Portuguese began again to make war upon them, and they did them so great damage, and slaughtered so many people, that they made them tributary to the King of Portugal to the amount of fifteen thousand serafins of gold each year. Some years from that time the king and governors of Ormuz sent an ambassador with offers of services and letters to the King of Portugal, and the before-named captain returned with his answer and a good fleet to the city of Ormuz,[120] and there they received him very peacefully in this city, and at once gave him permission and a place in which to built the fortress, which on a former occasion the Portuguese had begun to build: and he ordered it to be built at once, very large and magnificent. At this time the king, who was a Moor, and very young, and in the power of the governors, and so ruined that he did not dare do anything of himself, found the means to inform the captain-major secretly of the little liberty he enjoyed, and that the governors kept him like a prisoner, and that they had forcibly taken the government which belongs to others who were accustomed to exercise it, and that it appeared that they were exchanging letters with Sheikh Ismail in order to give him the kingdom. The captain-major kept this very secret, and determined to have an interview with the king; and they agreed that this interview should be in some large houses near the sea. On the day on which the interview was to take place, the captain-major entered the houses with ten or fifteen captains, leaving his people well arranged, and all concerted as was most convenient. So the king and his principal governor came there with many people, and the king and the governor entered the houses with ten or twelve honourable Moors, and the door was well shut and guarded. Then the captain-major ordered them to kill the governor[121] with their daggers in his presence and that of the king: and he said to the king, "Have no fear, Sir, for I do this to make you absolute king." However those who were without heard the noise, and began to raise a disturbance, that it to say, the relations, servants, and friends of the said governor, who were many in number, and all came armed, so that it was necessary for the captain-major to take the king by the hand; they went up on to the roof, both of them armed, in order that the king might speak thence to the Moors, and might pacify them; so he spoke to them, but could do nothing with them. They, on the contrary, required that he should confide to them his brother and lord: and they went thence to establish themselves in the king's palace, saying they would make another king. The captain-major wished to lay hands upon them, and thus they remained a great part of the day, and the king sought how to turn them out, and the captain-major determined to kill them by force or to drive them out, as they did not choose to go out of the fortress. So when the Moors saw that the captain-major, with the king, was determined to attack them, they resolved to give the fortress to the king; and when they gave it up, the king commanded that they should be banished immediately, they and their families; and this was done, and they went to the mainland. The captain-major conducted the king from these houses to the palace in triumph and honourably, and with many people, both of ours and of his, and entrusted him to the other governor who was so before. He then committed to him his palaces and the city very freely, and told the governor to serve the king very honourably, and to leave him to govern his country at his pleasure, and only give him advice, as happens with other Moorish kings: and thus he put him at liberty. He then left in the fortress that was built a captain and many men of Portugal, and ships, in order to favour this king, who does nothing without the advice of the captain of the fort. And he is in submission to the King of Portugal, with all his kingdoms and territories. After the captain-major had put everything in quiet and order, and under his command, he then had banished by the public crier, and turned out of the island all the paiderastoi, with a warning that if they returned there again they would be burned, at which the king showed great satisfaction. He likewise ordered all the blind kings who were in the city to be taken, and there were thirteen or fourteen of them, and put in a large ship, and he sent them to India, and they were landed at Goa, where he gave orders for them to be maintained at the expense of his revenues, so that they might end their days there, and not cause any disturbance in the kingdom of Ormuz, and be in peace and quietness. DIULCINDI. Leaving the kingdom of Ormuz, from the mouth of the Sea of Persia the coast goes to the south-east for a hundred and seventy-two leagues as far as Diulcinde,[122] entering the kingdom of Ulcinde,[123] which is between Persia and India. It is a kingdom, and has a Moorish king over it, and most of the inhabitants of the country are Moors, and there are some Gentiles subject to the Moors. This king has an extended rule over the country in the interior, and few seaports. They have many horses. On the eastern side this country is bounded by the kingdom of Cambay, and on the west by Persia. It is in obedience to Sheikh Ismail. The Moors are white and coloured; they have a language of their own, and also speak that of the Persians and of Arabia. There is much wheat and barley in this country, and plenty of meat. It is a level country, with little timber. They make little practice of navigating the sea; they possess extensive sea-beaches, where there are great fisheries, and they catch large fish, which they dry and salt, both for consumption in the country and for exportation in small vessels to other kingdoms. In this country they give dried fish to their horses to eat. A few ships which sail to this country from India, bring rice, sugar, and some spices, timber, planks, and Indian canes, which are as thick as a man's leg. And in all this trade they make much money; and from this place they carry away cotton, horses, and cloth. A great river comes into the sea through this kingdom; it comes through the middle of Persia, and they say that it comes out of the river Eufrates. Along this river there are many large and rich towns of Moors. It is a very fertile and fruitful land, and very abundant in provisions. KINGDOM OF GUZERAT, IN INDIA. Leaving the kingdom of Ulcinde, in the same direction, at a distance of fifty leagues, the traveller enters the first[124] India, in the great kingdom of Guzarat, which kingdom had belonged to King Darius. And the Indians have long histories of him and of King Alexander. This kingdom has many cities and towns in the interior of the country, as well as ports along the sea; and very much shipping. It has many merchants and shipowners, both Moors and Gentiles. The king, and the men-at-arms, and nobles of the country were all Gentiles formerly, and now they are Moors, since the Moors conquered the country in war, and hold the Gentiles subject to them, and molest them and treat them ill. There are three qualities of these Gentiles, that is to say, some are called Razbutes, and they, in the time that their king was a Gentile, were knights, the defenders of the kingdom, and governors of the country; they used to carry on war, and even now there remain some towns of them in the mountains, which have never chosen to pay obedience to the Moors, but, on the contrary, make war upon them; and the King of Cambaya is not sufficiently powerful to destroy them or subject them. They are very good knights and great archers, and they have many other kinds of arms with which they defend themselves from the Moors, without owning any king or lord to govern them. The others are called Banians, and are merchants and traders. These live amongst the Moors, and trade with them in their goods. They are men who do not eat meat nor fish, nor anything that has life; neither do they kill anything, nor like to see it killed, because their idolatry forbids it them; and they observe this to such an extreme that it is something marvellous. For it often happens that the Moors bring them some worms or little birds alive, saying they intend to kill them in their presence; and they ransom them, and buy them to set them flying, and save their lives for more money than they are worth. And in the same way, if the governor of the country has got a man to be executed, these Banians unite together and buy him from the officers of justice, that he may not die; and frequently they sell him to them. And in the same manner the Moors who beg for alms, when they want alms from these people, take great stones and strike themselves with them on the shoulders and the breast, and on their stomachs, as if they were going to kill themselves with them, and they receive alms not to do it, and to go away in peace. And others bring knives and stab themselves in the arms and legs before them, in order to extract alms; and others come to their doors to decapitate rats and snakes and other reptiles, and they give them money not to do it, so that they are very ill-treated by the Moors. If these people meet with a band of ants in the road, they hasten out of the road, and go and look for a place to pass without treading upon them. They likewise sup in the daytime because they do not light candles at night, in order that the mosquitoes and other insects may not come and die in the flame; and if of necessity they must have a candle, they keep them in lanterns of paper, or of stuff dipped in gum, so that no living thing can get there to suffer. If these people have lice they do not kill them, and if they worry them very much, they send to fetch some men whom they have amongst them, also Gentiles, whom they esteem of holy lives, like hermits, and who live in much abstinence for the love of their idols, and these people pick out their insects, and all those that they extract they put in their own heads, and they nourish them on themselves and on their flesh for the service of their idols. And so this law of not killing anything is held in great observance. On the other hand, they are great usurers and falsifiers of weights and measures, and merchandise, and coin; and liars and cheats. These Gentiles are brown people, well built and of good proportions, smart in their dress, and delicate and temperate in their food. Their victuals are milk, butter, sugar, rice, preserves of many kinds, many fruits, bread, vegetables, and field herbs; they all have gardens and orchards wherever they live, and many pools of water where they bathe twice every day, both men and women; and having ended their washing, they hold the belief that they are pardoned for all the sins which they have committed up to that time. They wear the hair very long like the women in Spain, and they wear it gathered on the top of the head, and made into a band which is much adorned, and upon this a cap to fasten it; and they always wear many flowers stuck into their hair, and sweet smelling things. They also anoint themselves with white sandal mixed with saffron and other scents; they are much given to fall in love. They go bare, only covering themselves from the waist downwards with very rich silk stuffs; they wear embroidered shoes of very good leather, well worked, and some short silk skirts, and other short ones of cotton, with which they cover their bodies. They do not carry arms, only some small knives garnished with gold and silver, for two reasons: one because they are persons who make little use of arms, the other because the Moors forbid it to them. They use many ear-rings of gold and jewellery in the ears, and many rings, and belts of gold and jewellery upon the cloths with which they gird themselves. The women of these Gentiles have very pretty, delicate faces, and well made bodies, a little dark. Their dress is silk stuff like their husbands' as far as the feet, and jackets[125] with narrow sleeves of silk stuff, open at the shoulders, and other silk cloths with which they cover themselves in the manner of morisco almalafas; their heads bare, the hair gathered up upon the head; they wear thick ankle rings of gold and silver on the legs, and rings on their toes, and large coral beads on their arms, with beads of gold filigree, and gold and silver bracelets; and round their necks, necklaces of gold and jewellery, fitting closely; they have large holes pierced in their ears, and in them rings of gold or silver large enough for an egg to pass through them. They are modest women, and when they go out of their houses they are much covered up with their wraps over their heads. The other set of people are called Bramans, and are priests and the persons who administer and direct the idolatry; they have very large houses of prayer, some of them with revenues, others are maintained by alms. In these they keep many idols: some of stone, some of wood, and other of copper. In these houses and monasteries they always perform many ceremonies to their gods; they make feasts for them magnificently, with instruments and songs, and with many lights of oil, and they have bells in our fashion. These Bramans have got images which represent the Holy Trinity: they pay much honour to the number three, and in trine make their adoration to God, whom they confess to be the true God, Creator, and Maker of all things, which are three things in one sole person; and they say that there are many other gods governed by him, in which they also believe. These Bramans, wherever they find our churches, enter willingly into them, and adore our images; and they always ask for Santa Maria, our Lady, like men who have some knowledge of her. And as they see our manner of honouring the churches, they say that there is no great difference between them and us. These Bramans go bare from the waist upwards; they wear upon their shoulder a thread of three threads, which is a sign by which they are known to be Bramans. They are men who also do not eat anything which receives death, nor do they kill anything. They hold it to be a great ceremony to wash their bodies, and say that they wash on that account. These Bramans, and also the Banians, marry in our fashion, with one woman only, and only once. They make great feasts at their weddings, which last many days, and there are many people assembled at these very well dressed and decked out. These festivities are magnificent. For the most part they are married when very young, both men and women, and on the day of the betrothal, and of the wedding, the couple are both of them seated on a platform,[126] very much bedizened with gold and jewellery and precious stones, and in front of them is a small table with an idol covered with flowers, and many lighted oil lamps all round it; and both of them have to remain there with their eyes fixed on that idol from the morning until the evening, without eating or drinking, or speaking to anybody during that time. The people make great rejoicings over them with their instruments and songs and dances; they let off many cannons, rockets and other fireworks to divert themselves. And if the husband dies the woman does not marry again, and so also does the husband should the wife die. And the children are his rightful heirs; and Bramans must be sons of Bramans, amongst whom there are some of a lower rank who serve as messengers and travellers, and they go in security to all parts without any one vexing them in any way. Even if there should be war or thieves, they always pass safely. These are called _pater_. OF THE KING AND THE LORDS OF GUZARAT, WHICH IS OF THE KINGDOM OF CAMBAY. The King of Guzarat is a great lord, both in revenue and people, and extensive and rich territory. He is a Moor, as also are his men-at-arms, as has been said. He has a large court of many knights, and he is the lord of many horses and elephants, which are brought for sale to this kingdom from the country of Malabar and Ceylon. And with the horses and elephants he makes war upon the Gentiles of the kingdom of Guzarat who do not pay obedience to him, and upon some other kings with whom at times he is at war. And they make wooden castles on the top of the elephants, which hold four men, who carry bows and guns, and other weapons, and fight thence with the enemy. And the elephants are so well trained, that they know how to take part in the battle, and with their tusks wound the men and horses so severely, that in a very short time they put any array into confusion. But they are so timid, and subject to pain when wounded, that they take to flight at once, and put one another into confusion, and rout their own side. This king has four or five hundred of these at his residence, very large and fine. They buy them for one thousand five hundred ducats each, at the seaports where the Malabars bring them for sale. And they make war much with the horses bred in the country, for it has a wonderful quantity; and the Moors and Gentiles of this kingdom are bold riders, ride small saddles,[127] and use whips. They carry very thick round shields, edged with silk, and two swords each man, a dagger, and a Turkish bow, with very good arrows; and some carry steel maces, and many of them coats of mail, and others tunics quilted with cotton. And the horses have housings and steel head pieces, and so they fight very well and are light in their movements; and they are so supple in their saddles that they can play on horseback at the choga[128] or at any other game. They have amongst them the game of the jerid, as in Spain. These Moors are white, and of many countries: both Turks and Mamelukes, Arabs, Persians, Khorasanys, Turkomans, and from the great kingdom of Dily, and others born in the country itself. These people come together there on account of the country being very rich, and well supplied; and the king gives good pay and rations, and regularly paid. These people are very well dressed, with very rich stuffs of gold, silk, cotton, and goats' wool, and all wear caps on their heads, and their clothes long, such as morisco shirts and drawers, and leggings to the knee of good thick leather, worked with gold knots and embroidery; and their swords are borne in their girdles, or in the hands of their pages. They are richly ornamented with gold and silver. Their women are very white and pretty, also very richly decked out. They may marry as many as they like and are able to maintain, to honour the sect of Mahomed; and so there are many of them who have three or four or five wives, and of all of them they have sons and daughters. And these Moors of Cambay speak many languages, that is to say, Arabic, Persian, Turkish,[129] and Guzaraty. They eat wheaten bread, rice, meat of all kinds, leaving aside pork, which is against their law. They are luxurious people, who live well and spend much money. They always go with their heads shaved, and the women with very fine hair. When they go out of their houses, they go on horses, or in cars, and so covered up that nobody can see them. They are very jealous men, and can unmarry themselves when they please, on paying to the wife a certain sum of money (which is promised when they marry them), if at any time they repent of it; and the women have also the same liberty. This King of Cambay has been king since a short time only, and his father was called Sultan Mahomed, who was brought up from a child and nourished with poison, for his father desired that he should so be brought up in order that it should not be possible to kill him with poison; for the Moorish kings of these parts often have one another killed by poison. And this king began to eat it in such a small quantity that it could not do him any harm, and from that he went on increasing this kind of food in such manner that he could eat a great quantity of it; for which cause he became so poisonous that if a fly settled on his hand it swelled and immediately fell dead. And many wives with whom he slept died at once of his poison, which he was unable to leave off eating, for he feared if he did not use it, to die soon after; as we see by experience with the opium which the Indians eat, for if they leave off eating it they die immediately, that is, if they begin as children to eat it in such a small quantity that it can do them no harm, for some length of time, and then increasing the quantity by degrees until they remain accustomed to it. This anfion is cold in the fourth degree, and on account of being so cold it kills. We call it opio, and the women of India when they wish to kill themselves in any case of dishonour or of despair, eat it with oil of sesame, and so die sleeping without feeling death. CITY OF CHAMPAVER.[130] This King possesses great cities in his kingdom, and especially the city of Champaver, where he resides continually, with all his court. This city is to the north of Guzerat, eighty leagues inland. It is a very fertile country: of abundant provisions, wheat, barley, millet, rice, peas and other vegetables, and many cows, sheep, goats, and plenty of fruit, so that it is very full of all things; and it has in its neighbourhood many hunting grounds, and deer and other animals, and winged game. And this country possesses dogs and falcons for the chase, and tame leopards for hunting all sorts of game. And the King for his pastime keeps many animals of all kinds, which they send to find and bring up. This King sent a Ganda[131] to the King of Portugal, because they told him that he would be pleased to see her. ANDAVAT. Leaving this city and going further inland there is another city called Andavat, which is larger than the said city of Champaver, and it is very rich, and well supplied. The former kings used always to reside in this city. These towns are walled, and embellished with good streets and squares, and houses of stone and whitewash, with roofs in our fashion; and they have large courts, and much water in wells and pools. They make use of horses, donkeys, mules, camels and carts, and have fine rivers, with plenty of fresh water fish, and many orchards and gardens. There are also in this kingdom, inland, many cities, towns and villages, in which the king keeps his governors and collectors of his revenue. If these commit a fault he summons them, and after having heard them he bids them drink a cup of poison, with which anyone dies immediately; and in this way he chastises them, so that they are in great fear of him. PATEMXI. The places which this king has on the sea coast are these. Firstly, leaving the kingdom of Ulcinde for India at a distance of thirty-seven leagues, is a river, on the shore of which there is a great city called Patemxi, a good seaport, very rich, and of great trade. In this city many silk stuffs are made, coloured with much embroidery, which are used over the whole of India, Malacca, Bengal, and also many cotton stuffs. To this port come many Indian ships laden with cocoa nuts, sugar of palms which they call xagara[132], and from there they carry away a great quantity of cloth and much cotton, horses, wheat, and vegetables, by which much money is made. Their voyage, with the delays, is of four months. SURATIMANGALOR. Passing by this city, further on the coast to the east and south, at fifteen leagues distance, there is another town of commerce, which has a very good port, and is called Suratimangalor, where also many ships from Malabar touch, for horses, wheat, rice, cotton cloths, vegetables and other goods which are of use in India. And they bring cocoa nuts, hurraca[133] (which is something to drink), emery, beeswax, cardamums, and all sorts of spices, in which trade and voyage great profit is made in a short time. DUY. Fifty leagues further along the coast, towards the south, there is a promontory, and joining close to it is a small island, which contains a very large and fine town, which the Malabars call Diuixa[134], and the Moors of the country call it Diu. It has a very good harbour, and is a port of much trade in merchandise, and of much shipping from Malabar, Baticala, Goa Dabul and Cheul; and the people of Diu sail to Aden, Mekkah, Zeyla, Barbara, Magadoxo, Brava, Melinde, Mombaza, Xer[135], Ormuz, and all parts of the kingdom. And the Malabars bring hither rice, cocoa nuts, jagara, wax, emery, iron, and sugar from Baticala, and all the spices that can be got in India and Malacca; and from Chaul and Dabul they bring a large quantity of cotton stuffs, which they call _beyranies_, and caps for women, which are carried from this place to Arabia and Persia. And they load at this port for the return voyage cotton cloths of the country and silk stuffs, horses, wheat, vegetables, sesame, cotton, oil of sesame, and opium, both that which comes there from Aden, and that which is made in the kingdom of Cambay, which is not so fine as that of Aden; and they export many coarse camlets and silk stuffs made in this kingdom of Cambay, and thick carpets,[136] taffeta, scarlet cloth, and of other colours. They also export the spices and things brought to them from India, by the people of the country, to Aden, Ormuz, and all parts of Arabia and Persia, so that this town is the chief emporium of trade which exists in all these parts. This town gives such a large sum of money as revenue to the king, for the loading and unloading of such rich goods, that it is a subject of marvel and amazement; for they also bring to it from Mekkah much coral, copper, quicksilver, vermillion, lead, alum, madder, rose-water, saffron, and much gold and silver coined and uncoined. The king keeps a Moorish governor in this place called Melquiaz; an old man, and a very good gentleman, discreet, industrious, and of great information, who lives with great order and regularity in all his affairs. He makes much artillery, and has many rowing barges, very well arranged, small and very light, which are called Talayas.[137] He has had constructed in the port a very strong and fine bulwark, in which he has very good artillery, with many lombards,[138] and he always keeps with him many men-at-arms, to whom he pays very good appointments. They are very well armed. He is always on his guard, and is very apprehensive of the power of the King of Portugal.[139] He shows great honour and attention to the ships and people of Portugal who come to his port. The people of his country are kept in very good order, and governed with much justice and good treatment; he dispenses many favours and presents to voyagers and strangers in his country. A large fleet of the Great Sultan[140] of sailing ships and row galleys arrived at this port, well equipped, with large crews and a good armament; its captain was Emir Hussein. He came to reinforce himself in this port with the assistance of the king of Cambay and the before-mentioned governor Meliquiaz, and from thence to go to Calicut, to fight with the Portuguese, and turn them out of India. He was for some time in the port making many preparations, and the Portuguese fleet came there to seek for them, of which Don Francisco de Almeyda, viceroy of India, was the captain major. And the Moors put out to sea to meet them, and the two fleets fought in the entrance of this roadstead vigorously, and many people were killed and wounded on both sides; and at the end the Moors were beaten and captured with great slaughter, and the Portuguese took their ships and galleys, with all their arms and heavy artillery. They captured there many Moors, and the said Emir Hussein escaped, and left his fleet to suffer as has been told; and when Meliquiaz, who assisted and favoured them with his guard-boats and forces, saw the havoc, he at once sent messengers to the before-mentioned viceroy to seek peace of him, and he sent many provisions and refreshments and other presents as a sign of peace.[141] GOGARI. Further on after this the coast begins to make a bend into Cambay towards the north, in which bend are several seaports of the same king, and towns of great trade. One of these is Guogari, at a distance of twenty-five leagues (from Diu), which is a very large town and a good port, where they always load many ships from Malabar and other parts of India; and many other ships bound for Mekkah and Aden. At this place all sorts of merchandise are dealt in, as at Diu. BARBESY. Another is called Barbesy, a seaport twelve leagues further on to the north, in which stretch of coast are several seaports of the King of Cambay. All sorts of goods are traded in for all parts, and the dues upon them produce very much to the king, who has in each of these two places his custom houses, and all are well supplied with provisions. BUENDARI. Further on, to north-west by north, there is another place in the mouth of a small river which is called Guendari, twenty leagues distant from Barbesy. And it is a very good town, a seaport of the same trade, because further up that river is the great city of Cambay. There arrived there many zambucos,[142] which are small vessels of the Malabar country, with areca (nuts), spices, wax, sugar, cardamums, emery, ivory, and elephants:[143] and these goods are sold there very well. And from there they carry away cotton, sesame, thread, wheat, peas, horses, alaquequas, and many other goods. The navigation of these places is very dangerous, especially for ships with keels which draw much water, because in this gulf which the coast here makes, the ebb and flow is so great, that in a very short space of time the sea leaves uncovered four or five leagues of dry land, and in some places less; and it is expedient for those who go in there to take country pilots, because, when the tide runs down, they may know how to remain in pools of deep water[144] such as there are there, and sometimes they make mistakes and remain upon rocks, where they are lost. CITY OF CAMBAY. Entering this river of Guendari, to the north-east is the great city of Cambay, inhabited by Moors and Gentiles. It is a very large city of handsome houses of stone and whitewash, very lofty, with windows, and covered with roofs in the Spanish fashion; it has very good streets and squares, and is situated in a rich, fertile, and pretty country, full of abundant provisions. There are in it rich merchants and men of great property, both Moors and Gentiles; and there are many workmen and mechanicians of subtle workmanship of all sorts, after the fashion of Flanders, and all very cheap. They make there many cloths of white cotton, fine and coarse, and other woven and coloured fabrics of all kinds; also many silk fabrics, of all kinds and colours; and camlets of silk and velvets of all colours, both smooth and fluffy, coloured tafetans, and thick alcatifas. The inhabitants of this city are all white, both men and women, and there are many people from outside living in it who are very white and very well dressed, and of luxurious lives, much given to pleasure and amusement. They are very much accustomed to wash themselves; they eat very well, and always go perfumed and anointed with sweet smelling things. They wear in their hair, both men and women, many jessamine and other flowers that grow amongst them. They have many musicians, and various kinds of instruments and songs. There are always carts with oxen and horses going about the city, of which they make use for everything; and they go in these with rich mattrasses, shut up and well fitted up with their windows, after the manner of cabins; furnished and ornamented with silk stuffs, and the seats within with cushions and pillows of silk and stamped kid skins:[145] and with their waggoners. Men and women go in these to see amusements and diversions, or to visit their friends, or wherever they wish, without being known, and they see all that they wish. And they go singing and playing on instruments in these same waggons for their amusement. And these people possess many orchards and gardens, where they go to take their ease, and where they grow much fruit and vegetables for the sustenance of the gentiles, who do not eat meat nor flesh. In this city a very large quantity of ivory is employed in very delicate works, well known in commerce, like inlaid works of gold, and things made by turning, and handles of knives and daggers, bracelets, games of chess and chess-boards. There are also great artists with the turning lathe, who make large bedsteads, and they make beads of great size, brown, yellow, blue and coloured, which they export to all parts. There are also great lapidaries, and imitators of precious stones of all kinds, and makers of false pearls which seem real. So also there are very good silversmiths of very skilful workmanship. In this city they make very delicate cushions, and pretty ceilings (or canopies) of bedsteads, of delicate workmanship and paintings, and quilted clothes for wearing. There are many Moorish women who produce very delicate needlework. They work there too in coral alaquequas and other stones. LIMADURA. Leaving this city of Cambay there is a town inland called Limadura, where there is a stone with which they make aquequas, for making beads for Berberia. It is a stone white as milk, and has some red in it, and with fire they heighten the colour, and they extract it in large blocks. In these places there are great artists who manufacture and pierce these beads in various fashions, oval, octagonal, round, and of other shapes; and with this stone they make rings, buttons, and knife handles. And the Cambay merchants go there to buy them, and they harden[146] them to take them away to sell in the Red Sea, from whence they are in the habit of arriving in our parts by way of Cairo or Alexandria: and they also carry them throughout all Arabia, Persia, and Nubia, and now they take them to India, because our people buy them. They also find in this town much chalcedony, which they call _babagore_. They make beads with it, and other things which they wear about them, so that they touch the skin, as they say that it is good for chastity. These stones are of little value there, for there are many of them. RAVEL. Returning to the towns on the sea, and passing Gandar, to the east there is a good river twenty leagues further along the coast, and on this side of it there is a good town of the Moors, called Ravel,[147] built of very pretty houses and squares. It is a rich and agreeable place, because the Moors of this town trade with their ships at Malacca, Bengal, Tarvasery, Pegu, Martaban, and Samatara, in all sorts of spices, drugs, silks, musk, benzoin, porcelain, and all other valuable merchandise. They possess very large and fine ships, so that those who would wish to get Chinese articles, will find them there more completely than in any other part, and at very fair prices. The Moors of this place are white and well dressed, and very rich. They have very pretty wives, and in the furniture[148] of their houses they have many china vases of different shapes, and they keep them in glass cupboards very well arranged. These women are not secluded like those of other Moors and other places, but go about the city in the daytime attending to their business, with the face uncovered as in our parts. SURATI. Having passed this river of Ravel, at twenty leagues to the south is a city called Surat, at the mouth of a river. This also is a city of very great trade, in all classes of merchandise. Many ships of Malabar and all other parts sail thither continually, and discharge and take in goods, because this is a very important seaport, and there are in it very vast quantities of merchandise. Moors, Gentiles, and all sorts of people live in this city. Its custom-house, which they call the Divana,[149] produces a very large revenue for the King of Guzarat: and until now Malaguioy, a Gentile, commands in, and governs it, as lord of it. And he is the greatest nobleman in all India, and he gave orders to kill the King of Guzerat for some gossip which they reported respecting him. DENVY.[150] After leaving the town of Surat, at ten leagues along the coast to the south, there is place called Denvy, of Moors and Gentiles, also of great trade, where many merchant ships from Malabar and many other parts always take in cargo. BAXAY. Having passed this town of Dendi, twenty leagues further on to the south[151] is another town of Moors and Gentiles, a good seaport, which also belongs to the King of Guzarat, in which much goods are exchanged; and there is a great movement of the shipping which comes there from all parts, and many Zambucs from the Malabar country laden with areca, cocoas, and spices, which they delight in, and they take thence others which are used in Malabar. TANAMAYAMBU. Twenty-five leagues further on the coast is a fortress of the before named king, called Tanamayambu, and near it is a Moorish town, very pleasant, with many gardens, and very fertile--a town of very great Moorish mosques, and temples of worship of the Gentiles. It is nearly at the extremity of the kingdom of Cambay or Guzarat, and it is likewise a seaport, but of little trade. And there are in this port small vessels of rovers like watch boats, which go out to sea, and if they meet with any small ship less strong than themselves, they capture and plunder it, and sometimes kill their crews. KINGDOM OF DACANI. On coming out of this kingdom of Guzarat and Cambay, towards the south and the inner parts of India, is the kingdom of Dacani, which the Indians call Decani. The king is a Moor, and a large part of his people is Gentile. He is a great lord, and possesses many subjects and an extensive territory, which stretches far inland. It has very good seaports, of great trade in the goods used on the mainland, and they are the following places: CHEUL. Leaving the kingdom of Cambay, along the coast towards the south, at eight leagues distance, there is a fine large river, and on it is a place called Cheul,[152] not very large, of handsome houses, which are all covered with thatch. This place is one of great commerce in merchandise, and in the months of December, January, February and March there are many ships from the Malabar country and all other parts, which arrive with cargoes. That is to say, those of Malabar laden with cocoa nuts, arecas, spices, drugs, palm sugar, emery, and there they make their sales for the continent and for the kingdom of Cambay; and the ships of Cambay come there to meet them laden with cotton stuffs, and many other goods which are available in Malabar, and these are bartered for the goods which have come from the Malabar country. And on the return voyage they fill their ships with wheat, vegetables, millet, rice, sesame, oil of sesame, of which there is much in this country; and these Malabars also buy many pieces of fine muslin[153] for women's head dress, and many beyranies, of which there are plenty in this kingdom. A large quantity of copper is sold in this port of Cheul, and at a high price, for it is worth twenty ducats the hundred weight, or more, because in the interior money is made of it, and it is also used throughout the country for cooking pots. There is also a great consumption in this place of quicksilver and vermilion for the interior, and for the kingdom of Guzarat, which copper, quicksilver and vermilion is brought to this place by the Malabar merchants, who get it from the factories of the King of Portugal; and they get more of it by way of the Mekkah, which comes there from Diu. These people wear the beyranies put on for a few days nearly in the raw state, and afterwards they bleach them and make them very white, and gum them to sell them abroad, and thus some are met with amongst them which are torn. In this port of Chaul there are few inhabitants, except during three or four months of the year, the time for putting in cargo, when there arrive merchants from all the neighbourhood, and they make their bargains during this period, and despatch their goods, and after that return to their homes until the next season, so that this place is like a fair in those months. There is a Moorish gentleman as governor of this place, who is a vassal of the King of Decani, and collects his revenues, and accounts to him for them. He is called Xech, and does great service to the King of Portugal, and is a great friend of the Portuguese, and treats very well all those that go there, and keeps the country very secure. In this place there is always a Portuguese factor appointed by the captain and factor of Goa, in order to send from this place provisions and other necessaries, to the city of Goa, and to the Portuguese fleets; and at a distance of about a league inland from Cheul is a place where the Moors and Gentiles of the cities and towns throughout the country come to set up their shops of goods and cloths at Cheul during the before-mentioned months; they bring these in great caravans of domestic oxen, with packs like donkeys, and on the top of these long white sacks placed crosswise, in which they bring their goods; and one man drives thirty or forty beasts before him. DAMDA. Having passed this place, Cheul, at twelve leagues further on along the coast to the south towards Malabar is another town and seaport, also belonging to the kingdom of Dacani, called Damda; where there enter and go out many Moorish ships, both Guzaratis and Malabaris, with cloth and other goods, as at Cheul. MANDABAD. Five leagues further on is a river called Mandabad, on which is a town of Moors and Gentiles, of the same kingdom of Decani; likewise a seaport. Many ships from various parts congregate at this harbour to buy stuffs, particularly from the Malabar country. And they bring there many cocoa-nuts, arecas, and also a few spices, copper and quicksilver: for the merchants of the country buy all these goods. DABUL. Having left this place, Mandabad, and going along the coast to Malabar and the south, at eight leagues distance is another fine large river, at the mouth of which is a large town of Moors and Gentiles, belonging to the same kingdom of Decani. It is called Dabul,[154] and in the mouth of the river near this same town there is a rampart, with artillery to defend the entrance of the river. This town of Dabul has a very good harbour, where there always congregate many Moorish ships from various parts, and especially from Mekkah, Aden, and Ormuz with horses, and from Cambay, Diu, and the Malabar country. It is a place of very great trade in all sorts of merchandise; there are in it very respectable Moors and Gentiles, and Guzarati merchants. Much copper, quicksilver, and vermilion is sold here for the interior of the country: a great quantity of country fabrics are brought to this town down the river for embarcation in the ships, and also much wheat and vegetables of all sorts. The custom-house of this port produces much money, and the collectors take the dues there for the lord of the town. And this town is pretty and well situated, but its houses are covered with thatch, and it also has very beautiful mosques. Higher up this river, on either bank there are many pretty towns, plentifully supplied, and owning much cultivated land and flocks. A fleet of the King of Portugal arrived at this city, of which the viceroy was the captain, and landed his people on the shore for the purpose of taking and destroying this town.[155] And the Moors put themselves on the defensive, and fought very courageously with the Portuguese. In the fight many Moors and Gentiles died, and at last the Portuguese took this city by assault, making a great slaughter of the inhabitants, and plundering and burning the city, in which much wealth and merchandise were burned, and at the same time several ships which were lying in the river. And those who escaped thence returned later to restore this city, so that now it is already inhabited as before. SINGUYCAR. Ten leagues further on from this river, along the coast southwards, is another river called Singuycar, upon which is a town of much commerce and merchandise. And many ships from divers parts put in there; and it is a town of Moors and Gentiles, and belongs to the kingdom of Dacani. RIVER DOBETALA. Twelve leagues further along the coast, to the south, is another river called Dobetela; and there are along its course several small places, with very pretty gardens and orchards, where they gather a great quantity of betel; this is a leaf which they eat, and it is put on board small vessels, and carried away for sale in other towns and seaports. We call this betel Indian leaf, and it is as large as a leaf of the plantain,[156] and about of the same pattern; and it grows like ivy, and climbs up other trees by means of poles placed for that purpose: it does not give any fruit or seed. It is a very favourite leaf, and all the Indians both men and women eat it both day and night in their houses, in the streets, and on the road, and in their beds. They always go about eating this leaf, which they mix with some small fruits called arecas, and the leaf is smeared with moistened lime, which is made with sea-shells, and the shells of oysters and mussels. And these three things being added together, they eat this betel, not swallowing more than the juice; and it colours the mouth and makes the teeth brown: and they say that it is good for drying and purging the stomach, and for preserving the brain, and it drives out flatulence, and quenches thirst: so that it is very much esteemed among all Indians, and in general use from this place further on throughout India. There are great quantities of it, and it is one of the principal revenues which the kings of the country possess. The Moors and Arabs and Persians call it tanbul. After passing this river of Betala, further along the coast are other small places and seaports, likewise belonging to the kingdom of Dacani, in which small vessels from Malabar enter to take on board inferior rice and vegetables which are found there: and one of them is called Arapatani, and another Munaryni.[157] BANDA. After leaving these places, about six leagues along the coast southwards is a river, upon which is a town of Moors and Gentiles called Banda, in which there are many merchants who trade on the continent with the merchants whom the Malabars bring thither. And many ships come there from many parts on account of its being a good harbour, and there is a great exportation of goods and provisions from the interior of the country. Many ships fill here with rice, coarse millet, and other vegetables that are profitable to them; and they bring to this place cocoa-nuts, pepper, and other spices and drugs which have a good sale there, because thence they ship them for Diu, Aden, and Ormuz. And leaving this place, between it and Goa there is another river called Bardes, on which there are other towns which are not of much trade. GUOA. Leaving these places, there are twenty leagues of coast southwards as far as a cape, which must be doubled to enter Goa; and after that ten leagues to the north-west, then ten more to the east, and south-south-west twenty leagues, then seventeen leagues to the north-west, as far as the Cape Rama. And in this gulf there are many small islands, the chief of which is Goa. There is a large river which issues by two branches into the sea, between which is formed the island of the city of Goa, which belonged to the kingdom of Decani, and was a lordship of itself along with other towns in the neighbourhood; and the king gave it to a vassal of his, a great lord called Vasabaxo, who was a very good knight, and on account of his being very distinguished and skilful in warlike matters, this lordship of Goa was given him, in order that he might carry on war thence with the King of Narsinga, as he always did until his death. This city then remained to his son, Sabaym Delcani, and it was inhabited by many Moors, respectable men, and foreigners, white men and rich merchants, and several of them are very good gentlemen. There are also many great Gentile merchants, and others, gentlemen and cultivators, and men-at-arms. It was a place of great trade in merchandise. It has a very good port, to which flocked many ships from Mekkah, Aden, Ormuz, Cambay, and the Malabar country. And the before mentioned Sabaym Delcani resided much in this place, and he kept there his captain and men-at-arms, and no one entered or went out of this island and city, either by sea or by land, without his permission; and all those who entered there were registered with all their signs and particulars, and from whence they came; and so, with this precaution and arrangement, they allowed them to return. This town was very large, with goodly edifices and handsome streets and squares, surrounded by walls and towers. There is a very good fortress in it, and in the environs many gardens and orchards of fine trees and fruits, and many pools of good water. There were many mosques and houses of worship of the Gentiles. The country all round was very fruitful and well cultivated, and enjoyed much produce both from sea and land. This Sabaym, as soon as he knew that the Portuguese viceroy had routed the Rumes[158] and the fleet of the great sultan before Diu, immediately sent to call the Rumes, knights, and other people of the sultan, who having escaped thence, arrived, leaving their captain in the kingdom of Guzarat. And this Sabaym Delcani received them very well, and determined on putting all India at their disposition for their assistance, and to refit them again with the aid of all the Moors and kings of India, in order to again carry on war against the Portuguese. They then collected together much money and began to build in this city of Goa very large ships, and handsome galleys and brigantines, all after the manner and fashion of ours, and likewise to prepare much artillery of brass and iron, and all other munitions of maritime war. And the Moors were so expeditious in this that they had got a large part of the fleet made, and vast magazines of munitions for the fleet; and they already went out with guard boats and rowing galleys, to take the Sambuks which passed by, because they carried Portuguese safe-conducts. And Alfonso de Albuquerque, who was then captain-major in India, had information of all this, and determined to go and seek them, and drive them from their design. He therefore collected the most that he could of a fleet of ships, caravels, and galleys, and with these entered the before mentioned river, and attacked the city of Goa[159] and took it. Upon which many great things occurred, which I say nothing about, in order not to be more prolix. He captured many people, and all the ships and galleys of the Rumes, and he burned some of them; and the city submitted to the commands of the King of Portugal, as it now is. And he fortified it with several castles. This city is inhabited by Portuguese, Moors and Gentiles; and the fruits of the earth and provisions now produce a yearly revenue to the King of Portugal of twenty thousand ducats, without the port, which has much trade in merchandise of Malabar, Cheul, Dabul, Cambay and Diu. They sell there many horses for other parts, at two, three and four hundred ducats each, according to their quality, and upon each the King of Portugal levies forty ducats as duty; and although they pay less dues than in the time of the Moors, this harbour produces much revenue to the King of Portugal.[160] In this kingdom of Decani there are many great cities, and many other towns within the country inhabited by Moors and Gentiles. It is a country very well cultivated, and abundantly supplied with provisions, and it has an extensive commerce, which produces much revenue to the king, who is called Mahamuza, and is a Moor; and he lives very luxuriously, and with much pleasure, in a great city inland, which is called Mavider. This king holds the whole of his kingdom, divided amongst Moorish lords, to each one of whom he has assigned cities, towns, and villages; and these lords govern and rule, so that the king does not give any orders in his kingdom, nor does he meddle except in giving himself a pleasant life and amusement. And all these lords do obeisance to him, and bring him the revenue, with which they have to come into his presence. And if any one of them were to revolt or disobey, the others go against him and destroy him, or reduce him again to obedience to the king. These lords frequently have wars and differences among one another, and it happens that some take villages from others; but afterwards the king makes peace, and administers justice between them. Each one has many horsemen, very good archers with the Turkish bow, white people, of good figures. Their dress is of cotton stuffs, and they wear caps on their heads. They give large pay to the soldiers: they speak Arabic, Persian and the Decani language, which is the natural language of the country. These Moorish lords take tents of cotton cloth into the field, in which they dwell when going on a journey, or to war. They ride a small saddle, and fight tied to their horses. They carry in their hands very long light lances, with four-sided iron points, very strong, and three palms in length. They wear tunics quilted with cotton, which they call _laudes_, and some wear tunics of mail, and their horses caparisoned; some carry iron maces and battle-axes, two swords and a buckler, Turkish bows supplied with many arrows, so that each man carries offensive weapons for two persons. Many of these take their wives with them to the wars; they make use of pack oxen, on which they carry their chattels when they travel. They are frequently at war with the King of Narsinga, so that they are at peace but for a short time. The Gentiles of this kingdom of Decani are black, well made and courageous; most of them fight on foot, and some on horseback: and these foot soldiers carry swords and shields, bows and arrows, and are very good archers. Their bows are long, after the fashion of Englishmen. They go naked from the waist upwards, and wear small caps on their heads; they eat all meats except cow; they are idolaters, when they die their bodies are burned, and their wives burn themselves alive with them voluntarily, as will be related further on. CINTACOLA. Seventeen leagues further along the same coast to the south-east, and towards Malabar, there is another river called Aliga,[161] which separates the kingdom of Decani from the kingdom of Narsinga, and at the mouth of the river on the top of a hill is a fortress, Cintacola;[162] and it belongs to the Zabayo, for the defence of his country. In it he continually keeps horse and foot soldiers. Here the said kingdom of Decani comes to an end at its southern portion, and the northern part ends at Cheul; and from one place to the other along the coast there are eighty leagues. KINGDOM OF NARSINGA. Beyond this river commences the kingdom of Narsinga, which contains five very large provinces, with a language of their own. One province is along the coast, and is called Tulinat; another has the name of Legni, which confines with the kingdom of Tisa; another is Canari, in which is the great city of Visenagar,[163] and the other is Chomendel,[164] a kingdom which they call Tamul. This kingdom of Narsinga is very rich and well supplied with provisions, and is very full of cities and large townships; and all the country is very fertile and brought into cultivation. The province of Tulinat contains many rivers and seaports, in which there is much trade and shipping bound for all parts, and many rich merchants dwell in them. Between the others there is a very large river called Mergeo, from which is produced a large quantity of inferior rice for the common people, which the Malabars come here to buy, with their sambuks, in exchange for cocoa nuts, oil, and jagra, which are much used in this country. HONOR. Having passed this river Aliga,[165] and going along the coast to the south-east, there is another river, at ten leagues distance, with a good town near the sea, called Honor,[166] and the Malabars call it Povaran; many of them come to this place to fetch cargoes of inferior brownish rice, which is their peculiar food: and they bring cocoa nuts, oil and jagra, and wine of the palm trees, from which grow the cocoa nuts. BATECALA. Ten leagues further along this coast to the south is another small river, with a large town called Baticala,[167] of very great trade in merchandise, inhabited by many Moors and Gentiles, very commercial people. And at this port congregate many ships from Orguz, to load very good white rice, sugar in powder, of which there is much in this country, for they do not know how to make it in loaves; and it is worth at the rate of two hundred and forty maravedis the arroba.[168] They likewise load much iron, and these three kinds of goods are what are chiefly shipped at this place: and also some spices and drugs, which the Malabars import. There are many myrobalans of all sorts, and very good preserves are made with them, which the ships of Ormuz, which traffic at this place, export for the Arabs and Persians. They used each year to bring to this port many horses and pearls, which were there sold for the whole kingdom of Narsinga, and now they take them all to the city of Goa, on account of the Portuguese. Some ships are also laden at this place for Aden, risking themselves, although it is forbidden them by the Portuguese. Many Malabar ships and sambuks also come to this port to take in rice, sugar, and iron; and they bring cocoa nuts, palm sugar, cocoa nut oil, and palm wine, in return for these things, and spices and drugs, concealed from the Portuguese who prohibit them. This town produces much revenue to the king. Its governor is a Gentile; he is named Damaqueti. He is very rich in money and jewels. The king of Narsinga has given this place and others to a nephew of his, who rules and governs them, and lives in great State and calls himself king, but he is in obedience to the king his uncle. In this kingdom they make a great practice of duelling, for on account of anything they at once challenge one another, and the king at once grants them a field and arms, and appoints a time for killing each other, and gives them seconds, who back up each his own man. They go to fight one another bare from the waist upwards, and from the waist downwards wrapped in cotton cloths drawn tightly round, and with many folds, and with their arms, which are swords, bucklers and daggers.[169] And the king appoints them of equal length. They enter the lists with great pleasure, first saying their prayers, and in a very few passes they kill each other in the presence of the king and many people, without any one speaking except the seconds, of whom each encourages his own man. This town of Baticala pays a yearly tribute to the king of Portugal; much copper is also sold in it each year, which is taken into the interior of the country to make money, and cauldrons and other pans which they use. There is also sold there much quicksilver, vermilion, coral, alum and ivory. This town is situated in level country, it is very populous, and not walled; it is surrounded with many gardens, very good estates, and very fresh and abundant water. There is in this place gold coin called Pardan,[170] and it is worth three hundred and twenty maravedis; and there is another silver coin called _dama_, worth twenty. The weights are called bahars, and each bahar is equal to four quintals of Portugal.[171] MAYANDUR. Having passed Baticala, at ten leagues towards the south is another small river, on which there is a town called Mayandur, under the jurisdiction of Baticala, in which much rice is gathered of a good quality, which is shipped at Baticala. The people of this town sow it principally in certain watery valleys, which they plough with oxen and with buffaloes, two and two, in couples, with their ploughs after our fashion, and they put the rice for seed in some hollow irons placed in the ploughshare, which entering the earth ploughing it and making a furrow, leave behind the seed in it, because otherwise they would not be able to sow it on account of the quantity of water; and on dry land they sow it by hand. They gather the harvest twice every year from this watery land, and it is of four sorts of rice. The first they call girazat, which is the best; the second jani bazal,[172] the third camagar, and the fourth pachari: each one has its price, and there is a great difference between one and the other. BACAVOR BAZALOR. There are two small rivers ten leagues further along the coast to the south, and on both of them towns, one of which is called Bacavor, and the other Basalor;[173] both belong to the kingdom of Narsinga. In these also there is much rice of good quality, which is there shipped for all parts: and many ships come from Malabar, and sambuks great and small, which take this rice on board in sacks of a fanega[174] each, which is worth from one hundred and fifty to two hundred maravedis each fanega, according to its goodness. Ships also put in here from Ormuz, Aden, Xeher, and many other places, to take in cargo for Canaor and Calicut. They also ship there much rice in exchange for copper, cocoa nuts, jagra, oil of cocoa nuts, for the Malabars maintain themselves with scarcely anything else but rice, since the country of Malabar is small and very populous: so full of inhabitants, that it may almost be said that all the country is one single city from the mountain Deli to Coulam. MANGALOR. Having left these places, at ten leagues distance there is another large river towards the south, along the sea-shore, where there is a very large town, peopled by Moors and Gentiles, of the kingdom of Narsinga, called Mangalor.[175] There many ships always load brown rice, which is much better and more healthy than the white, for Malabar, for the common people, and it is very cheap. They also ship there much rice in Moorish ships for Aden, also pepper, which henceforward the earth begins to produce, but little of it, and better than all the other which the Malabars bring to this place in small vessels. The banks of this river are very pretty, and very full of woods and palm trees, and are very thickly inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, and studded with fine buildings and houses of prayer of the Gentiles, which are very large, and enriched with large revenues. There are also many mosques, where they greatly honour Mahomed. CUNBALA. Ten leagues further along the same coast to the south, is another town of the Gentiles, of the kingdom of Narsinga, which is called Cunbala. In it also much brown and very bad rice is harvested, which the Malabars go to buy there, and load it in their vessels for the lowest people amongst them, and of the Mahaldiu islands, which are across from Malabar, because it is very cheap, and the people poor; and they sell it there in exchange for thread for making cordage for ships. This thread is made of a covering and integument which grows upon the cocoa nuts of the palm trees, and a great quantity of it is produced; and in that place it is a great article of commerce with all parts. This town of Cunbala has a lord to rule and govern it for the kingdom of Narsinga, and it is frontier to the kingdom of Cananor: because here the kingdom of Narsinga comes to an end along the coast of this province of Tulinat. OF THE CUSTOMS AND GREATNESS OF THIS KINGDOM OF NARSINGA IN THE INTERIOR OF THE COUNTRY. Leaving this sea coast, and going inland into the kingdom of Narsinga, at twelve or fifteen leagues distance there is a very high mountain range, precipitous and difficult of ascent, which stretches from the beginning of this kingdom to Cape Comeri,[176] which is beyond the Malabar country; and the before-mentioned province of Tulinat is at the foot of this range, between it and the sea. And the Indians say that in former times all these low grounds were sea, which reached to the said range, and that in process of time the sea uncovered it, and swelled it up in other parts, and to the foot of those mountains. There are many traces of things of the sea, and all the low ground is very level like the sea, and the mountain chain is very craggy, and seems to rise to the heavens; and it is not possible to ascend, except in a few parts, and with difficulty, which is a cause of great strength to the Malabars, for were it not for the difficulty of entering their country on account of the roughness of these mountains, the King of Narsinga would already have conquered them. This range is peopled in several parts, with good towns and villages, very luxuriant in water and delicious fruit: and in it there are many wild boars, and large and fine deer, many leopards, ounces, lions, tigers, bears, and some animals of an ashy colour, which look like horses, very active, and which cannot be caught.[177] There are serpents with wings, which fly, very venomous, so that their breath and looks kill whatever person places himself very near them, and they always go amongst the trees. There are also many wild elephants, and many stones of gegonzas,[178] amethysts, and soft sapphires, are found in the rivers where they are deposited. They carry them from the mountains to sell them in the Malabar towns, where they are wrought. After passing this mountain range, the country is almost entirely plain, very fertile and abundantly supplied in the inland districts, which belong to the kingdom of Narsinga, in which there are many cities and villages and forts, and many large rivers run through it. There is in this country much cultivation of rice and other vegetables, with which they maintain themselves, and many cows, buffaloes, pigs, goats, sheep, asses, and diminutive ponies, all of which they make use of; and they carry their goods by means of buffaloes, oxen, asses, and ponies, and do their field work with them. Almost all the villages are of Gentiles, and among them are a few Moors; some of the lords of these villages are of these last, to whom the king of Narsinga has granted the villages, and others are his, and he keeps his governors and tax collectors in them. BIJANAGUER. Forty-five leagues from these mountains inland, there is a very large city which is called Bijanaguer, very populous and surrounded on one side by a very good wall, and on another by a river, and on the other by a mountain. This city is on level ground, the King of Narsinga always resides in it. He is a Gentile and is called Raheni: he has in this place very large and handsome palaces, with numerous courts in which are many mounds, pools of water with plenty of fish, gardens of shrubs, flowers, and sweet-smelling herbs. There are also in the city many other palaces of great lords who live there. And all the other houses of the place are covered with thatch, and the streets and squares are very wide: they are constantly filled with an innumerable crowd of all nations and creeds; for, besides many Moorish merchants and traders, and the Gentile inhabitants of the country who are very rich, an infinite number of others flock there from all parts, who are able to come, dwell, trade, and live very freely and in security, without anyone molesting them, or asking or requiring of them any account of whence they come, or in what creed they live, whether they be Moors, Christians, or Gentiles; and each one may live according to any creed, or as he pleases. There is an infinite trade in this city, and strict justice and truth are observed towards all by the governors of the country. In this city there are very many jewels which are brought from Pegu and Celani, and in the country itself many diamonds are found, because there is a mine of them in the kingdom of Narsinga and another in the kingdom of Dacani. There are also many pearls and seed-pearls to be found there, which are brought from Ormus and Cael; and all these jewels and pearls are much esteemed among them, because they adorn themselves much with them, and on that account a great quantity are poured in. In this city they wear many silks and inferior brocades, which are brought from China and Alexandria, and much scarlet cloth, and of other colours, and much coral worked into round beads; and they import copper, quicksilver, vermilion, saffron, rose-water, much anfiani which is opium, sandal and aloes wood, camphor, musk, because the inhabitants of this country are much in the habit of anointing themselves with these perfumes. There is also a great consumption in this place, and in the whole kingdom, of pepper, which is brought from Malabar on oxen and asses. The money is of gold, and is called parda, and is worth three hundred maravedis;[179] it is coined in certain cities of this kingdom of Narsinga, and throughout all India they use this money, which passes in all those kingdoms; its gold is a little inferior. This coin is round, and made in a mould. Some of them have some Indian letters on one side, and two figures on the other of a man and a woman, and others have nothing but the lettering on one side. CUSTOMS OF THIS KINGDOM OF NARSINGA AND OF ITS INHABITANTS. This king constantly resides in the before-mentioned palaces, and very seldom goes out of them: he lives very luxuriously and without any labour, because he discharges it all upon his governors. He and all the dwellers in this city are Gentiles, coloured men and nearly white, of long and very smooth black hair; they are well proportioned men, of features and ----[180] similar to our own, and so likewise are the women. The costume of the men is from the waist downwards with many folds and very tight, and a short shirt which reaches half way down the thigh, made of white cotton stuff, silk, or brocade, open down the front, small caps on their heads, and the hair gathered up on the top, some caps of silk or brocade, and their sandals on their bare feet, cloaks of cotton stuff or silk on their arms, and their pages with their swords behind them, and their bodies anointed with white sandal, aloes-wood, camphor, musk, and saffron; all ground together with rose-water. They bathe every day, and after bathing, anoint themselves. They wear small gold chains and jewels round their necks, and bracelets on their arms, and rings on their fingers of very valuable jewels, and also many jewels in their ears of pearls and precious stones. And they take a second page who carries for them a slender canopy with a long handle with which to shade them and protect them from the rain. These shades are of silk stuff, much ornamented with gold fringes, and some of them have jewels and seed-pearls, and made in such a manner that they shut up and open; and some of these cost three or four hundred gold pieces, according to the quality of the persons. The women wear a cloth of very fine white cotton, or of silk of pretty colours, which may be about six cubits long; they gird themselves with part of this cloth from the waist below, and the other end of the cloth they cast over the shoulder and the breasts, and one arm and shoulder remain uncovered; on their feet sandals of gilt and well-worked leather; their heads bare, only their hair combed, and they put a plait of it over their heads, and in this many flowers and scents; and in the nostrils a small hole on one side, and in it a gold thread with a drop, either a pearl, or a ruby, or a sapphire drilled with a hole; their ears also are bored and in them they wear many gold rings with pearls and precious stones; and jewel necklaces round their throats, bracelets on their arms of the same fashion, and also strings of fine round coral on their arms, many rings with precious stones on their fingers; and girt over their clothes with belts of gold and jewels; and rings of gold on their legs; so that for the most part these are very rich and well-dressed people. They are great dancers; they sing and play on various instruments; they are taught to tumble and to perform many feats of agility. They are pretty women, and of a grand presence. These people marry in our manner; they have a marriage law, but the great men marry as many women as they can maintain, and the king has with him in his palaces many wives, daughters of the great lords of his kingdom; and, besides these, he has many others as concubines, and others as serving women who are chosen throughout the kingdom as the most beautiful. And all the attendance on the king is done by women, who wait upon him within doors; and amongst them are all the employments of the king's household: and all these women live and find room within these palaces, which contain apartments for all. They bathe every day in the pools of water, they sing and play on their instruments, and in a thousand ways amuse the king: and he goes to see them bathe, and from thence sends to his chamber the one that pleases him most; and the first son that he has from any of these, inherits the kingdom. Amongst them there is so much envy and rivality for the preference of the king, that sometimes they kill themselves with poison. This king has a house in which he meets with the governors and his officers in council upon the affairs of the kingdom; and there all the great men of the realm go to see him with great gifts; and he dispenses great favours and likewise great punishments to those that deserve them. These great men, his relations and those of great lineage, when they do anything ill-done or prejudicial to his service, are summoned to him; and they have to come immediately: and they come in very rich litters on men's shoulders, and their horses are led by the bridle before them, and many horsemen go in front of them. They get down at the door of the palace and wait there with their trumpets and musical instruments, until word is brought to the king, and he commands them to come to his presence; and if they do not give a good excuse and account of themselves and of the evil of which they are accused, he commands them to be stripped and thrown on the ground, and there bids them to receive many stripes. If such a person were a near relation of the king's or a very great personage, the king himself scourges him with his own hand, and after he has been well beaten, the king orders very rich garments to be given him from his own clothes chests, and then directs him to be reconducted to his litter, and carried with great honour and great clang of musical instruments and festivity to his abode. Many litters and many horsemen always stand at the door of this palace: and the king keeps at all times nine hundred elephants and more than twenty thousand horses, all which elephants and horses are bought with his money: the elephants, at the price of fifteen hundred to two thousand ducats each, because they are very great and well-fitted for war, and for taking about with him continually for state. And the horses cost from three to six hundred ducats each, and some of the choicest for his personal use, nine hundred or a thousand ducats. These horses are distributed amongst the great lords who are responsible for them, and keep them for the gentry and knights to whom the king bids them to be given: and he gives to each knight a horse and a groom and a slave girl, and for his personal expenses four or five pardaos of gold per month, according to who he is; and, besides that, each day's provisions for the horse and groom; and they send to the kitchen for the rations both for the elephants and horses. The kitchens are very large and numerous, they contain many cauldrons of copper, and several officials who cook the food of the elephants and horses; which, it must be said, is rice, chick-peas, and other vegetables. In all this there is much order and arrangement, and if the knight to whom the king has given a horse cares for it and treats it well, they take away that one and give him another and a better one; and if he is negligent, they take his away and give him another that is worse. And thus all the king's horses and elephants are well fed and cared for, at his cost: and the grandees, to whom he gives a great quantity of them, act in the same manner with their knights. These horses live but a short time; they are not bred in this country, for all of them are brought there from the kingdom of Ormuz and that of Cambay, and on that account, and for the great need of them, they are worth so much money. This king has more than a hundred thousand men, both horse and foot, to whom he gives pay: and fully five or six thousand women, to whom also he gives pay. And wherever there is war, according to the number of men-at-arms whom he sends there, he likewise sends with them a quantity of women; because they say that it is not possible to bring together an army, nor carry on war well, without women. These women are like enchantresses, and are great dancers; they play and sing, and pirouette. And whenever the king's officers take and enrol any man, they strip him and look what marks he has got on his body, and measure what his stature is, and set it all down in writing, and from whence he comes, and the names of his father and mother: and so he remains enrolled with all these particulars in the pay books. And after being enrolled, it is with difficulty that he can again obtain permission to go to his country; and if he flies and is taken, he runs great danger, and is very ill treated. Among these men-at-arms there are many knights, who arrive there from many parts to take service, and these do not cease to live in their creeds. In this kingdom there are three sects of Gentiles, and each one of them is distinguished from the others, and their customs are different. In the first place, the king and the grandees, and lords and chief people of the men-at-arms, can marry more than one wife, especially the grandees, who can maintain them: their children are their heirs. The wives are bound to burn themselves and to die with their husbands when they decease, because when the people die, their bodies are burned, both of men and women. And the wives burn themselves alive with them to honour them, in this manner: that is to say, if she is a poor woman of little rank, when the body of the husband is borne out to be burned in an open space outside the city, where there is a great fire, and whilst the body of the husband is being consumed, the wife casts herself, of her own will, into the fire, and burns there with him. And if she is some honourable woman, and of much property, and whether she be a young woman of beautiful presence, or old, when her husband dies, the relations all go to the before mentioned open space, and make a wide grave as deep as a man's height, and fill it with sandal and other wood, and place the dead body within and burn it; and his wife, or wives, weep for him, and then, should she desire to honour her husband, she asks for a term of a certain number of days to go and be burnt with him. And they bid all her relations, and those of her husband, come and do her honour, and give her a festal reception. And in this manner all collect together, and entertain and pay court to her, and she spends what she possesses among her relations and friends, in feasting and singing, in dances and playing on musical instruments, and amusements of jugglers. And when the term fixed has ended, she dresses herself in her richest stuffs, and adorns herself with many precious jewels, and the rest of her property she divides amongst her children, relations, and friends, and then mounts a horse, with a great sound of music, and a large following. The horse must be grey, or very white if possible, for her to be seen better. And so they conduct her through the whole city; paying court to her as far as the place where the body of her husband was burned; and in the same grave they place much wood, with which they light a very great fire, and all round it they make a gallery with three or four steps, whither she ascends with all her jewels and robes; and when she is upon the top she takes three turns round it, and raises her hands to heaven, and worships towards the east three times. And having ended this, she calls her relations and friends, and to each she gives a jewel of those which she wears: and all this with a very cheerful demeanour, not as though she were about to die. And after she has given them away, and there only remains a small cloth with which she is covered from the waist downwards, she says to the men, "See, gentlemen, how much you owe to your wives, who, whilst enjoying their freedom, burn themselves alive with their husbands." And to the women she says, "See, ladies, how much you owe to your husbands, for in this manner you ought to accompany them even in death." And when she has concluded uttering these words, they give her a pitcher full of oil, and she places it on her head and says her prayer, and takes three more turns and worships to the east, and casts the pitcher of oil into the pit where the fire is: and she springs into it, after the pitcher, with as much good will as though she were jumping into a pool of water. And the relations have ready for this occasion many pitchers and pots full of oil and butter, and dry wood, which they immediately throw in, so that so great a flame is at once kindled, that she is suddenly reduced to ashes. And afterwards they collect these ashes, and cast them into flowing rivers. All perform this in general, and if any women do not choose to do this, their relations take them, shave their heads, and turn them out of their houses and families with disgrace. And so they wander through the world as lost ones. And those of this sort to whom they may wish to show favour, are sent to the houses of prayer of the idols, to serve and gain for that temple with their bodies, if they are young women. And of these houses there are many, which contain fifty or a hundred women of this sort; and others, who of their own accord, being unmarried, place themselves there.[181] These have to play and sing, for certain hours of the day, before their idols, and the rest of the time they work for themselves. So also when the king dies, four or five hundred women burn themselves with him in the same manner, and they throw themselves suddenly into the pit and fire where they burn the body of the king: for the pit and fire are very large, and a great quantity can be burned in it, with great abundance of wood, sandal, brasil, eagle wood, aloes wood, and much oil of sesame and butter to make the wood burn well. So great is the haste of those who wish to burn themselves first, that it is something wonderful, and many men, confidants of the king, burn themselves with him. These people eat meat, fish, and all other viands, only cow is forbidden them by their creed. There is another sect of Gentiles who are called Bramans, who are priests and directors of the houses of prayer. These do not eat meat or fish, they marry only one wife, and if she dies they do not marry again: their children inherit their property. They wear over the shoulder three threads as a sign of being Bramans. These do not die for any cause, or crime which they may commit; they are very free and easy, and are very much venerated amongst the people. They enjoy amongst them large alms from the kings, lords, and honourable people, with which they maintain themselves; and many of them are rich, and others live in the houses of prayer which there are about the country, after the manner of monasteries. These temples also have great revenues. These people are great eaters, and do no work except in order to eat: and they at any time go eight leagues to satisfy themselves with food, which they can eat on the road. Their food is rice, butter, sugar, vegetables, and milk. In this country there is another sect of people, who are like Bramans: they wear round their necks hung with silk cords and wrapped in coloured cloth, a stone of the size of an egg, and they say that it is their god. These people are much venerated and honoured in this country; they do them no harm for any offence which they may commit, out of reverence for that stone, which they call tabaryne.[182] Neither do these people eat flesh nor fish; they go safely in all countries, and they transport from one kingdom to another much merchandise and money of the merchants, on account of their greater security from thieves. And there are some of them who deal in merchandise with their tani bar ine round their necks. These likewise marry only one woman, and if they die before their wives, they bury these alive in this manner.[183] It must be said, that they make a grave for her a little deeper than she is tall, and put her in it standing, and while she is quite alive they throw in earth all around her, and press it down with their feet until she is walled in with earth much pressed down, which reaches to her neck, and then they put some large stones above her, and leave her there alive covered with earth until she dies; and on this occasion they perform great ceremonies for them. The women of this country are so enterprising and idolatrous, that they do marvellous things for the love of their idols, in this manner. There are amongst them young girls who desire to marry some man for whom they have a liking, and one of these will promise her idol to do it a great service if she should marry such a one whom she wishes for. And if she marries that one, she then says to him, I have to make a feast for such a god, and I have to offer my blood before I deliver myself to you. And so they appoint a day for celebrating that feast. And she takes a large waggon with oxen, and they fix it in a very high crane, such as those with which they draw water, and they fasten it to an iron chain with two iron hooks, and she comes out of her house with great honour, accompanied by all her relations and friends, men and women, with much singing and playing of instruments, and many dancers and jesters; and she comes wrapped very tightly round the waist with her white stuffs, covered from the waist to the knees, the rest bare, and at the door of her house, where the car stands, they lower the crane, and stick the two hooks into her in the loins between the skin and the flesh, and put into her left hand a small round shield, and a little bag with lemons and oranges. They then raise the crane with great shouting and sound of instruments, firing guns, and making other festal demonstrations: and in this manner the car begins its march on the way to the house of the idol to which the promise was made, and she goes suspended by those hooks fastened into her flesh, and the blood runs down her legs. And she continues to sing and shout for joy, and to strike upon the shield, and to throw oranges and lemons to her husband and to her relations, who go with her in this manner to the door of the said house of prayer, where they take her down, and cure her, and deliver her to her husband; and she gives at that place great alms to the Bramans and offerings to the idols, and a great feast to as many as accompanied her. There are other persons also who offer the virginity of their daughters to an idol, and as soon as they are ten years of age they take her to a monastery and the house of prayer of that idol, with great honour, and accompanied by her relations, entertaining her like one that is going to be married. And outside of the monastery, at the door, there is a bench of hard black stone, square, of half a man's height, and surrounded with wooden steps, with many oil lamps placed on the steps, which are lit at night.[184] * * * * * This King of Narsinga is frequently at war with the King of Dacani, who has taken from him much of his land; and also with another Gentile King of the country of Otira,[185] which is the country in the interior. And he always sends his captains and troops to this war, and on some occasions, if of necessity, he goes to the war in person; and as soon as it is determined on, he goes out to the country, on a certain day, on an elephant or in a litter, very richly adorned with gold and jewels, accompanied by many knights and horse and foot-men: and many elephants go before him, all covered with scarlet cloth and silk, and much bedizened and dressed out as for a feast. And as they go through the fields they bring the king a horse, on which he rides, and a bow and an arrow, which he shoots towards the part where he intends to go and make war. And they name the day of his setting out, and this news immediately runs throughout all the kingdom. He then pitches his tents and camp in the country, and there remains until the appointed term of days is accomplished for his departure. When this is concluded he orders the city to be set on fire, and directs it all to be burned except the royal palaces, castles, houses of prayer, and those of some of the grandees which are not covered with thatch, in order that all may go to the war to die with him, and with his wives and children, whom he has with him in the wars. In order that these may not take to flight he directs large pay to be given to all: in the first place, to the enchanting single women, who are numerous, and who do not fight, but their lovers fight for love of them very vigorously. And it is also said that many men come from all the other kingdoms to this king's camp for the love of these women,[186] amongst whom there are many very honourable ones, great confidantes of the king, who come of great houses, and are very rich. Each one of them keeps seven or eight pretty waiting women, who are given to them by their mothers to bring them up, and put them in the court enrolled on the pay list. They hold this service in great honour, and it is but a short time since one of them died who had no son nor heir, and left the king for her heir; and he gathered from the inheritance sixty thousand gold pardaos, besides twelve thousand which he gave to a waiting woman of his, whom he had brought up from a girl: which is not to be wondered at for the great wealth of the kingdom. In this kingdom jewels are esteemed as treasure by the king and also by the rich, who buy them at large prices. The people of this kingdom are great hunters both of flying game and wild beasts. There are many small hacks, and very good ones to go. HOTISA. Having passed the said kingdom of Narsynga inland, there is next another kingdom called Hotisa,[187] which confines with it on one side, and on another with the kingdom of Bengal, and on the other with the kingdom of Dely: and it is inhabited by Gentiles. The king is also a Gentile, very rich and powerful, who has many foot soldiers; he is frequently at war with the kingdom of Narsinga, from which he has taken lands and villages; and the King of Narsinga has taken others from him: so that they are rarely at peace. Of the customs of these people I have little information, on account of their being placed so much in the interior of the country. It is only known that in that country there are very few Moors, and that they are almost all Gentiles and very good fighting men. KINGDOM OF DELY. Having passed this kingdom of Otisa, more inland there is another great kingdom, which is called Dely, of many provinces, and of large and rich cities of great trade. This kingdom is of the Moors, and has a Moorish king, a great lord; and in former times this kingdom was of the Gentiles, of whom there are still many who live amidst the Moors, with much vexation. And many of them nobles and respectable people, not to be subject to the Moors, go out of the kingdom and take the habit of poverty, wandering the world; and they never settle in any country until their death; nor will they possess any property, since they lost their lands and property, and for that go naked, barefooted, and bareheaded; they only cover their nakedness with coverings[188] of brass, in this manner: it must be said, that they wear belts of Moorish brass of pieces fitted together, of four fingers in breadth, carved with many images of men and women, sculptured and shining: and they wear it so tight that it makes their guts rise high up; and from the girdle below the hips there comes a bandage of the same brass, and in front it forms a sort of braguette, which comes and fastens in the girdle in front with its fastenings: all very tight. Besides this, they carry very heavy chains round their necks, and waists, and legs; and they smear all their bodies and faces with ashes. And they carry a small brown horn at their necks, after the fashion of a trumpet, with which they call and beg for food at the door of any house where they arrive: chiefly at the houses of kings and great lords and at the temples; and they go many together, like the gipsies.[189] They are accustomed to stop very few days in each country. These people are commonly called jogues, and in their own speech they are called zoame, which means servant of God. They are brown, very well made and proportioned, of handsome faces; they wear their hair without ever combing it, and made into many plaits, wound round the head. And I asked them many times why they went in this fashion. And they answered me, that they wore those chains upon their bodies as penance for the sin which they committed for allowing themselves to be captured by such bad people as the Moors, and that they went naked as a sign of dishonour, because they had allowed their lands and houses to be lost, in which God brought them up; and that they did not want more property since they had lost their own, for which they ought to have died; and that they smeared themselves with ashes in order to remind themselves perpetually that they were born of earth and had to return again to the earth, and that all the rest[190] was falsehood. And each one of them carries his little bag of these ashes with him; and all the Gentiles of the country honour them greatly, and receive from them some of these ashes, and put it on their heads,[191] shoulders, and breasts, making a few lines with it. And throughout all the country the Gentiles are in the habit of doing this. And so also throughout all India among the Gentiles, many of them turn jogues; but most of them are from the kingdom of Dely. These jogues eat all meats and do not observe any idolatry, and they mingle with all kinds of people: neither do they wash like other Gentiles, except when the wish to do so comes to them. In this kingdom of Dely there are many very good horses, which are born and bred there. The people of the kingdom, both Moors and Gentiles, are very good fighting men and good knights, armed with many kinds of weapons; they are great bowmen, and very strong men; they have very good lances, swords, daggers, steel maces, and battle-axes, with which they fight; and they have some steel wheels, which they call chacarani, two fingers broad, sharp outside like knives, and without edge inside; and the surface of these[192] is of the size of a small plate. And they carry seven or eight of these each, put on the left arm; and they take one and put it on the finger of the right hand, and make it spin round many times, and so they hurl it at their enemies, and if they hit anyone on the arm or leg or neck, it cuts through all. And with these they carry on much fighting, and are very dexterous with them. This king of Dely confines with Tatars, and has taken many lands from the King of Cambay; and from the King of Dacan, his servants and captains, with many of his people, took much, and afterwards in time they revolted and set themselves up as kings. In this kingdom of Dely there are some trees, the root of which is called Baxarague,[193] and it is so poisonous that any one who eats it dies at once; and its fruit is called Nirabixy,[194] and it is of such virtue that it extinguishes all poison, and gives life to any one poisoned with the said root or with other poisons. These jogues, who come from the kingdom of Dely, carry this root and fruit; some of them give it to some Indian kings; and so likewise they carry with them sometimes rhinoceros' horn and Pajar stone, which possess great virtue against all poisons. And this stone, Pajar, is grey and soft, of the size of an almond; and they say that it is found in the head of an animal: it is greatly esteemed amongst the Indians.[195] COUNTRY OF MALABAR. Having passed the province of Tulynate, which is of the kingdom of Narsinga, along the coast of the sea, which province begins from Cinbola near the mountain Dely, and ends at the Cape of Conmery, which is a distance of seventy leagues along the coast towards the south and south-east. And there begins the country of Malabar, which was governed by a king who was called Sernaperimal,[196] who was a very great lord. And after that the Moors of Mekkah discovered India, and began to navigate near it, which was six hundred and ten years ago; they used to touch at this country of Malabar on account of the pepper which is found there. And they began to load their ships with it in a city and seaport, Coulom,[197] where the king used frequently to be. And so for some years these Moors continued their voyages to this country of Malabar, and began to spread themselves through it, and became so intimate and friendly with the said king, that they made him turn Moor, and he went away with them to die at the house of Mekkah, and he died on the road. And before he set out from his country, he divided the whole of his kingdom of Malabar amongst his relations; and it remained divided amongst them and their descendants as it now is. And when he distributed the lands, he abandoned those that he gave, never to return to them again; and at last, when he had given away all, and there did not remain anything more for him to give, except ten or twelve leagues of land all round the spot from which he embarked, which was an uninhabited beach, where now stands the city of Calicut. And at that moment he was accompanied by more Moors than Gentiles, on account of having given to the latter almost all that he possessed, and he had with him only one young nephew, who waited on him as a page, to whom he gave that piece of land; and he told him to get it peopled, especially that very spot whence he embarked. And he gave him his sword and a chandelier, which he carried with him for state. And he left an injunction to the other lords, his relations to whom he had made grants of lands, that they should obey him, only leaving exempt the King of Coulam and the King of Cavanor:[198] so that he instituted three kings in the country of Malabar, and commanded that no one should coin money except the King of Calicut. And so he embarked at the same place where the city of Calicut was founded; and the Moors held this time and place in much veneration, and would not after that go and load pepper any more in any other part since the said king embarked there after becoming a Moor and going to die at Mekkah. This city of Calicut is very large, and ennobled by many very rich merchants and great traffic in goods. This king became greater and more powerful than all the others: he took the name of Zomodri,[199] which is a point of honour above all other kings. So that this great King of Malabar did not leave more kings than these three: that is to say, the Zomodry, who was named Cunelava-dyri, and the King of Culaon, who was named Benate-diry, and the King of Cananor, who was named Coletry.[200] And there are many other lords in the country of Malabar, who wish to call themselves kings; and they are not so, because they are not able to coin money, nor cover houses with roofs under penalty of all the others rising up against whomsoever should do such a thing, or of having to destroy them. And these kings of Culam and Cananor afterwards struck money for a certain time in their countries without having the power of doing so. In all the country they use one language, which is called Maleama, and all the kings are of one sect, and almost of the same customs. In these kingdoms of Malabar there are eighteen sects of Gentiles, each one of which is much distinguished from the others in so great a degree that the ones will not touch the others under pain of death or dishonour or loss of their property: and all of them have separate customs in their idol-worship, as will be set forth further on. CUSTOMS OF THE SAID KINGDOMS AND COUNTRY OF MALABAR. In the first place, the Kings of Malabar are, as has been said, Gentiles, and honour their idols: they are brown, almost white, others are darker; they go naked from the waist upwards, and from the waist downwards are covered with white cotton wraps and some of them of silk. Sometimes they clothe themselves with short jackets open in front, reaching halfway down the thigh, made of very fine cotton cloth, fine scarlet cloth, or of silk and brocade. They wear their hair tied upon the top of their heads, and sometimes long hoods like Galician casques, and they are barefooted. They shave their beards and leave the moustaches[201] very long, after the manner of the Turks. Their ears are bored, and they wear in them very precious jewels and pearls set in gold, and on their arms from the elbows upwards gold bracelets, with similar jewels and strings of very large pearls. At their wrists over their clothes they wear jewelled girdles three fingers in width, very well wrought and of great value. And on their breasts, shoulders, and foreheads, they make marks by threes with ashes, which they wear in accordance with the custom of their sect, saying that they do it to remind themselves that they have to turn to ashes: for when they die they burn their bodies, and so this ceremony continues among them. And many use it mixed with sandal wood, saffron, aloes wood, and rose water, all this ground up. When they are in their houses they always sit on high benches, and in houses without stories; these benches are very smooth, and are slightly smeared once every day with cow dung. And they keep there a stand very white and four fingers high, and a cloth of brown wool undyed, after the manner of a carpet of the size of a horsecloth[202] folded in three folds; and upon this they sit, and they lean upon pillows, round and long, of cotton, silk, or fine cloth. And they also sit on carpets of cloth of gold and silk; but they always keep under them, or near them, that cloth of brown wool, on account of their sect, and for state. And frequently they happen to be lying on couches and cushions of silk and very fine white sheets, and when any one comes to see them, they bring him this brown woollen cloth and put it near him, and when he goes out, a page carries the cloth folded before him for state and ceremony. And likewise he always keeps a sword near him, and when he changes from one spot to another, he carries it in his hand naked, as they always keep it. These kings do not marry, nor have a marriage law, only each one has a mistress, a lady of great lineage and family, which is called nayre, and said to be very beautiful and graceful. Each one keeps such a one with him near the palaces in a separate house, and gives her a certain sum each month, or each year, for expenses, and leaves her whenever she causes him discontent, and takes another. And many of them for honour's sake do not change them, nor make exchanges with them; and they seek much to please their king, for that honour and favour which they receive. And the children that are born from these mistresses are not held to be sons, nor do they inherit the kingdom, nor anything else of the king's; they only inherit the property of the mother. And whilst they are children, they are favoured by the king like children of other people whom he might be bringing up; but not like his own, because since they are men, the children are not accounted for more than as children of their mothers.[203] The king sometimes makes grants of money to them, for them to maintain themselves better than the other nobles. The heirs of these kings are their brothers, or nephews, sons of their sisters, because they hold those to be their true successors, and because they know that they were born from the body of their sisters. These do not marry, nor have fixed husbands, and are very free and at liberty in doing what they please with themselves. In this wise the lineage of the kings of this country, and the true stock, is in the women: that is to say, if a woman[204] gives birth to three or four sons and two or three daughters, the first is king, and so on, all the other brothers inherit from one another; and when all these have died, the son of the eldest sister, who is niece of the king, inherits, and so also his other heirs after him; and when these have deceased, the children of the next sister. And the kingdom always goes in this way to brothers, and nephews sons of sisters, and if by good or evil fortune these women happen not to give birth to male children, they do not consider them as capable of inheriting the kingdom; and these ladies, in such a case, all unite in council and institute some relation of theirs as king, if they have one, and if there is none, they name any other person for this office. And on this account the kings of Malabar are old men when they succeed to reign, and the nieces or sisters from whom has to proceed the lineage of the kings are held in great honour, guarded and served, and they possess revenues for their maintenance. And when one of these is of age to bring forth, on arriving at from thirteen to fourteen years, they prepare to make festivity and entertainment for her, and to make her enceinte. And they summon some young man, a nobleman and honourable person, of whom there are many deputed for this. And they send to fetch him that he may come for this purpose. And he comes, and they give him a great entertainment, and perform some ceremonies, and he ties some gold jewel to the neck of the damsel, and she wears it all her life in sign of her having performed those ceremonies, in order to be able to do with herself whatever she chooses; because, until the performance of this ceremony, she could not dispose of herself. And the before mentioned youth remains with her for some days, very well attended to, and then returns to his land. And she sometimes remains in the family way, and sometimes not, and from this time forth for her pleasure she takes some Braman, whomsoever she likes best, and these are priests among them, and of these she has as many as she likes. This King of Calicut, and so also the other kings of Malabar, when they die, are burned in the country with much sandal and aloes wood; and at the burning all the nephews and brothers and nearest relations collect together, and all the grandees of the realm, and confidantes of the king, and they lament for him and burn him. And before burning him they keep him there when dead for three days, waiting for the assembling of the above mentioned persons, that they may see him if he died of a natural death, or avenge his death if any one killed him, as they are obliged to do in case of a violent death. And they observe this ceremony very rigidly. After having burned him, all shave themselves from head to foot, excepting the eyelashes, from the prince, the heir to the throne, to the smallest child of the kingdom: that is, those who are Gentiles, and they also clean their teeth, and universally leave off eating betel for thirteen days from that time; and if in this period they find any one who eats it, his lips are cut off by the executioner. During these thirteen days the prince does not rule, nor is he enthroned as king, in order to see if in this time any one will rise up to oppose him; and when this term is accomplished, all the grandees and former governors make him swear to maintain all the laws of the late king, and to pay the debts which he owed, and to labour to recover that which other former kings had lost. And he takes this oath, holding a drawn sword in his left hand, and his right hand placed upon a chain lit up with many oil wicks, in the midst of which is a gold ring, which he touches with his fingers, and there he swears to maintain everything with that sword. When he has taken the oath, they sprinkle rice over his head, with many ceremonies of prayer and adoration to the sun, and immediately after certain counts, whom they call caymal,[205] along with all the others of the royal lineage, and the grandees, swear to him in the same manner to serve him, and to be loyal and true to him. During these thirteen days one of the caymals governs and rules the State like the king himself: he is like an accountant-general of the king, and of all the affairs of the kingdom. This office and dignity is his by right and inheritance. This person is also the chief treasurer of the kingdom, without whom the king cannot open or see the treasury; neither can the king take anything out of the treasury without a great necessity, and by the counsel of this person and several others. And all the laws and ordinances of the kingdom are in the keeping of this man. No one eats meat or fish in these thirteen days, nor may any one fish under pain of death. During that period large alms are given from the king's property, of food to many poor people, and to Bramans; and when the thirteen days are ended, all eat what they please, except the new king, who observes the same abstinence for one year, neither does he shave his beard, nor cut a hair of his head nor of his body, nor his nails: and he says prayers for certain hours of the day, and does not eat more than once a day. And before he eats he has to wash himself, and after washing, he must not drink anything until he has eaten. This king is always in the city of Calicut, in some very large palaces which he possesses outside of the city, and when the year of this mourning is accomplished, the prince who is to succeed him, and all those of the royal family and all the other grandees and nobles of the country, come to see him, and to perform a ceremony, which takes place at the end of the year, in honour of the death of his predecessor: at which great alms are given, and much money is spent in giving food to many Bramans and poor people, and to all those who come to visit him, and to their retinues, so that more than a hundred thousand people are assembled there. And on this occasion he confirms the prince as the heir, and likewise the others as his successors step by step. And he confirms to all the lords their estates, and he confirms or changes as he sees fit the governors and officers who were under the former king. And he then dismisses them, and sends each to his duties, and he sends the prince to the estates which are assigned to him. And he must not re-enter Calicut until the king dies; and all the other successors may go and come to the court, and reside with the king. When the before mentioned crown prince departs, after he has left Calicut, and on passing the bridge of a river, he takes a bow in his hand and shoots an arrow towards the residence of the king, and then says a prayer with uplifted hands in the manner of prayer, and then goes on. This prince, when he comes to visit the king at the said feast and ceremony, brings all his nobles with him, and his instruments of music, which are kettle-drums,[206] drums of many shapes, trumpets, horns, flutes, small brass plates,[207] and lutes;[208] these come making a great harmony, and the nobles in front, all drawn up in order, as they regulate processions here. That is to say, the bowmen in the van, next the lancers, after them the bearers of sword and buckler. And the king issues from the palaces and places himself at a great door, on foot, and there he stands looking at all these people who come up to him with great reverence, and do as though they worshipped him. All retire after a while, and so he remains for the space of two hours, until all have done, and the prince appears at a considerable distance[209] with a drawn sword in his hand, which he brandishes as he advances, with his face raised up, and eyes fixed upon the king. And on seeing him, he worships him and throws himself with his face upon the ground, and with outstretched arms; and he lies thus for a short time, then gets up again, and goes forward very slowly brandishing his drawn sword in his hand, and with his eyes still fixed upon the king, and at half way he does the same thing again, and the king looks at him fixedly, without making any movement, and the prince gets up again, and so arrives where the king stands: and there he again throws himself on the ground in front of him. The king then goes forward two steps and takes him by the hand, and raises him up, and so they enter both together into the palaces. The king then sits on his dais, and the prince with all the other heirs, stand in front with their drawn swords in their right hands, and their left hands placed upon their mouths out of respect, withdrawn a little from the king's dais. They speak there to the king with much reverence, without speaking to one another, and if it is necessary for one to say anything to another, they speak so softly that no one hears them: so much so, that there are two thousand men before the king in the palace, and no one hears them; and they may not spit or cough before the king. This King of Calicut keeps many clerks constantly in his palace, they are all in one room, separate and far from the king, sitting on benches, and there they write all the affairs of the king's revenue, and his alms, and the pay which is given to all, and the complaints which are presented to the king, and, at the same time, the accounts of the collectors of taxes. All this is on broad stiff leaves of the palm tree, without ink, with pens of iron: they make lines with their letters, engraven like ours. Each of these clerks has great bundles of these leaves written on, and blank, and wherever they go they carry them under their arms and the iron pen in their hand: in this way they are known to all people as scribes of the palace. And among these there are seven or eight who are great confidants of the king, and the most honoured, and who always stand before him with their pens in their hand, and writings under their arm, ready for the king's orders to do anything, as he is in the habit of doing. These clerks always have several of these leaves subscribed[210] by the king in blank, and when he commands them to despatch any business, they write it on those leaves. These accountants are persons of great credit, and most of them are old and respectable: and when they get up in the morning and want to write anything, the first time that they take the pen and the leaf in their hand, they cut a small piece off it with the knife which is at the end of the pen, and they write the names of their gods upon it and worship them towards the sun with uplifted hands; and having finished their prayer, they tear the writing and throw it away, and after that begin writing whatever they require. This king has a thousand waiting women, to whom he gives regular pay, and they are always at the court, to sweep the palaces and houses of the king: and this he does for state, because fifty would be enough to sweep. These women are of good family, they come into the palace to sweep and clean twice every day, and each one carries a broom and a brass dish with cow dung dissolved in water; and all that they sweep, after having swept it, they smear it with their right hand, giving a very thin coating, which dries immediately. And these women do not all serve, but take turns in the service; and when the king goes from one house to another, or to some temple, on foot, these women go before him with these dishes of the said cow dung, spilling it on the road by which he has to pass. And these thousand women give a great feast to the king when he newly comes to the throne, after he has finished his year of mourning and abstinence. It is fitting to know that all the thousand assemble together, both the old and the young ones, in the king's house, very much adorned with jewellery, gold belts, pearls, and many bracelets of gold, and many rings with precious stones, and ankle rings of gold on their legs, and dressed from the waist downwards with very rich silk stuffs, and others of very fine cotton, and from the waist upwards bare, and anointed with sandal and perfumes, and their hair wreathed with flowers, and rings of gold and precious stones in their ears, the feet bare, as they always are accustomed to be. And they have there all sorts of musical instruments, and many guns and other fireworks of various kinds. Many nobles who accompany them come there very smart and gay, and are their admirers: and seven or eight elephants covered with silk housings and small bells in great quantity hanging to them, and large chains of iron suspended from their backs. And the ladies take an idol for their protector,[211] and put it on the top of the biggest elephant, and a priest who carries it in his arms sits on the back of the elephant. So they set out in procession with their music and rejoicing, and much firing of guns, going along a very broad street to a house of prayer. There they lower the idol which is to be seen with another which is in that temple, and they perform to them great ceremonies, and many people assemble to see and adore those idols, and pay honour to their images. These thousand women have each got a brass dish full of rice, and on the top of the rice lamps full of oil, with many lighted wicks, and between the chandeliers are many flowers. And at nightfall they set out from the temple with their idol for the king's palace, where they have to place it; and all come in procession before the idol which is set upon the elephant, in bands of eight, with the before mentioned salvers, and many men accompany them with oil, with which they replenish the lamps. And the nobles, their admirers, go along with them, talking to them with much courtesy; and they remove the perspiration from the ladies' faces, and from time to time put into their mouths the betel, which both men and women are constantly eating; and they fan them with fans, because their hands are fully occupied with the salvers. And all the instruments are sounding, and there is a great firing of rockets, and they carry some burning shrubs, so that it is a very pretty sight. Also at night some gentlemen go in front of the idol inflicting wounds with their swords upon their own heads and shoulders, and shouting like madmen, and foaming at the mouth like persons possessed: and they say that the gods enter into them and make them do this. Many tumblers and buffoons also go along performing feats of agility, and the governors and chief men of the city go there to direct and arrange that procession, which is conducted with much order until it arrives at the king's palace, where it disperses. This king is for the most part sitting on his dais, and sometimes his confidential advisers are there, rubbing his arms and legs, or his body, and a page with a napkin round his neck full of betel, which he gives him to chew, and sometimes it is kept in a gilt and coloured casket edged with silver, and at times in a gold plate, and the page gives it to him leaf by leaf, smeared with a little lime of sea shells diluted with rose water, like a sauce, which he keeps in a small box[212] of gold; and he also gives him areca, which is a small fruit, cut into pieces, and he chews it all together; and it colours his mouth, and what he spits is like blood. And another page holds in his hand a large gold cup, into which he spits the juice of that leaf which he does not swallow, and he washes his mouth from time to time, so that he is almost always munching these leaves. His manner of eating is that no one sees him eat: only four or five servants wait upon him. First of all, when he wishes to eat, he bathes in a pool of water which he has in his palaces, very clean and prettily kept; and there, when undressed, he performs his ceremonies and worships three times to the east, and walks three times round, and plunges three more times under the water, and after that dresses in clean clothes, each time fresh washed; and then he goes and sits in the place which he has appointed for eating, the ground having been swept, or on a very low, round stand. There they bring him a large silver tray, and upon it are many small silver saucers, all empty. And they are set before him on the ground upon another low stand: and the cook comes, who is a Braman, and brings a copper pot with cooked rice, which is very dry and entire, and with a spoon they take it out, and make a pile of it in the middle of the said large tray; afterwards they bring many other pans with divers viands, and put portions of them into the small saucers. He then begins to eat with the right hand, taking handfuls of the rice without a spoon, and with the same hand he takes some of all the dishes and mixes it with the rice; and with his left hand he must not touch anything of what he eats; and they set near him a silver pitcher of water; and when he wants to drink, he takes it with the left hand, and raises it in the air, and pours the water into his mouth in a small jet; thus he drinks without the pitcher touching his mouth;[213] and the viands which they give him, both of flesh and fish, or vegetables and herbs, are done with so much pepper, so that no one from our parts could endure them in his mouth. And he never cleans his right hand, nor uses a napkin or cloth for that, whilst eating, until he has done eating, when he washes his hand. And if, during his meals, there should be present with him any honourable Bramans, in his confidence, he bids them eat there apart from himself on the ground; and they set before them leaves of the Indian fig-tree, which are very large and stiff, a leaf for each man, and upon these they set food before them, the same as for the king; and he who is not going to eat there goes away, because no one else may be where the king eats; and when he has ended his meal, the king returns to his dais, and is almost always chewing betel. Whenever the king goes out of the palace to amuse himself, or to pray to some idol, all his gentlemen are summoned who are in waiting, and also the minstrels, and they carry the king in a litter, which is borne by men, and is covered with silk stuffs and jewels. Many jugglers and tumblers go before the king, with whom he amuses himself, and he stops frequently to look at them, and praises the one who performs best. And one Braman carries a sword and shield, and another a long gold sword, and another a sword in his right hand, which the King of all Malabar, who went to die at Mekkah, left behind him; and in his left hand a weapon which is like a fleur-de-lis. And on each side go two men with two fans, very long and round, and two others with two fans made of white tails of animals, which are like horses, and which are much valued amongst them, set on gold spears; these men fan the king, and close to them is a page with a gold pitcher full of water, and on the left side another with a silver one; and a page with a napkin, for when the king wishes to clean his nose, or if he touch his eyes or mouth, they pour water and wash his fingers, and the other gives him the napkin to dry them; they also carry vases, in which the king spits the betel. His nephews, governors, and other lords go along with him, and all accompany him with their swords drawn and shields. And a great quantity of buffoons, musicians, tumblers, and musqueteers firing guns accompany the king; and if he goes by night, they carry four large chandeliers of iron full of oil with many lighted wicks. ON THE FASHION OF JUSTICE IN THE KINGDOM OF MALABAR. In the said city of Calicut there is a governor, whom they call Talaxe, a gentleman appointed by the king,[214] who has under him five thousand gentlemen, to whom he pays their salaries from the revenue, which is assigned for that purpose. This person administers justice in the city of Calicut, and gives an account of everything to the king. And justice is administered according to the qualities of the persons, because there are divers sects and laws amongst them; that is to say, of gentlemen, Chetres, Guzurates, Brabares, who are very honourable people; and thence downwards there are also divers sects of low and base people who are all serfs of the king, or of the other lords and governors of the country. And if any of these low people commits a robbery, concerning which a complaint has been made to the king or to the governor, they send to take the robber, and if they find the thing stolen in his hands, or if he confess that he did it, if he is a Gentile, they take him to a place where they carry out executions, and there they set some high posts with sharp points and a small stand, through which passes one of those points; and there they cut off his head with a sword, and spit him through the back and the pit of the stomach, and that point comes out about a cubit, and on it they also spit his head. And they tie ropes to his legs and arms, and fasten them to four posts, so that the limbs are stretched out and the body on its back upon the stand. And if the malefactor is a Moor, they take him to a field, and there kill him by stabbing him; and the stolen property is appropriated to the governor without its owner recovering anything; because their law so disposes, doing justice on the thief. And if the stolen property is found and the thief escapes, it is for a certain number of days in the charge of the governor; and if during that time they do not catch the thief, they return the stolen goods to its owner, a fourth part of it, however, remaining for the governor; and if the thief denies the robbery, they keep him eight days in prison, making his life uncomfortable, to see if he will confess, and throwing him his food; and when the eight days are passed without his confessing, they call the accuser, and he is told that the accused does not confess, and they ask him if he requires them to take his oath or let him go. If the accuser then requires the accused to swear, they make him wash and commend himself to his gods, and eat no betel, and cleanse his teeth from the blackness caused by the betel, in order that he may swear next day, and that he may prepare himself for it. Next day they take him out of prison, and take him to a pool of water where he washes, performing his ceremony, and from there they take him to a house of prayer where his idols are kept, before which he takes his oath in this manner. It must be known that, if he is a Gentile, they heat a copper-pot full of oil until it boils, and they throw in a few leaves of trees, and with the great heat of the pot the leaves fly out, and this is in order that the parties may see that the oil is hot and boiling; and then two scribes come near, and take the right hand of the accused and look if he has any wound of itch or other disease, and write down in what condition his hand is, in the presence of the party. Then they bid him look at the idol, and say three times "I did not commit this theft of which I am accused, nor do I know who did it," and then put his two fingers up to the middle joints in the oil which is boiling upon the fire; and he does so; and they say that if he did not commit the theft, that he does not burn himself, and that if he did it, he burns his fingers. [And then the scribes, and governor and party, look at him again, and the scribes write down the condition in which his hand is, and they tie it up with a cloth whether it is burned or not, and put seals on the fastenings of the cloth, and send him back to prison. And three days later, all return to the same place where the oath was taken, and they untie his hand before the governor and party, and if they find it burned they kill him, but first give him so many torments that they make him confess where he has got the stolen property, or that he did it. And even if he does not confess, all the same he suffers the penalty because his hand was burned; and if they find his hand not burned, then they let him go, and he who accused him pays a certain sum as a fine to the governor. And they have the same method for him who kills another, or for him who kills a cow, or raises his hand in anger against Bramans or noblemen. And this is to be understood as amongst the Gentile peasants and low people. And if it is a Moor who does such things, he passes through the same examinations, only that instead of putting his fingers in oil, they make him lick with his tongue a red-hot axe, and if he does not burn himself he remains free, and if he burns his tongue he suffers death. And if any of the common people, whether Gentiles or Moors, commit other offences for which they do not deserve death, they punish them with a pecuniary penalty for the governor, and this produces much revenue to him; and he lays hold of vagabonds as slaves, and he has the power of selling them, and sells them without any opposition whatever, at a price of from four to five ducats. The nobles enjoy exemption and the privilege, that they cannot be taken and put in irons for anything which they do. And if a noble were to rob or kill any one, or kill a cow, or were to sleep with a woman of low caste, or of the Bramans, or if he eat or drank in the house of a low caste man, or spoke ill of his king--this being established by his own words--they call three or four honourable gentlemen in whom the king places confidence, and he bids them go and kill this noble wherever they may meet with him, and they give them a warrant[215] signed by the king for them to kill him without penalty. They then kill him with daggers or spears, or shoot him with arrows, because at times these men who are accused are such that before being put to death, they wound two or three of the slaughterers, if they have been forewarned. And after he is dead they lay him on his back and place that king's warrant upon his breast. And if they kill him in the country they leave him there, and no one comes near him, so that the fowls and dogs devour him. And if they kill him in the city, the people of the street where he lies dead go and beg the king to order his removal; and the king gives the orders, sometimes as a favour, sometimes with a fine.[216]] And if any noble comes to the king or to the governor, and complains to him of any other noble who has robbed or murdered or done any other evil deed, the governor reports it to the king, and the king gives orders to summon the accused, and if he absents himself they hold him guilty, and he is ordered to be executed in the same manner without further investigation. And if he presents himself, they summon the accuser, and examine both of them together. And the accuser takes a small branch of a tree or green herbs in his hand, and says, such a one did such a thing; the other one takes another branch, and denies it. The king then bids them return eight days thenceforward to the house of the governor to take oath and prove that which each one asserts; and so they depart, and return on the day fixed to the house of the governor, where the accused swears in the manner already described with boiling butter, and having concluded taking the oath, they tie up his fingers as has been said, and both of them are detained in a house under a guard, so that neither of them can run away. And on the third day they untie his fingers, and clear up the truth, and if they find the fingers burned, they kill the accused; and not finding them injured, they kill the accuser. And if the accused is not of as great value, they do not kill the accuser, on whom in such case they inflict a pecuniary penalty and that of banishment. And if such a noble was accused of a great robbery of the king's property, they have him imprisoned in a close room and well guarded, and conduct him thence to take the oath. In this kingdom of Calicut there is another governor, who is like the chief justice of all the kingdom, with the exception of the city of Calicut. This chief justice is called Coytoro tical carnaver; he has his lieutenants in all the villages, to whom he farms the administration of justice: that is to say, the fines, not capital penalties. And people come to this chief justice for any injury, and he gives an account of it and reports to the king, and renders justice in the manner followed at Calicut. In this kingdom of Calicut no women ever die by sentence of law for any offence whatever; they are only subject to pecuniary penalties. And if any woman of Nayr family should offend against the law of her sect, and the king know of it before her relations and brothers, he commands her to be taken and sold out of the kingdom to Moors or Christians. And if her male relations or sons know of it first, they shut her up and kill her with dagger or spear wounds, saying that if they did not do so they would remain greatly dishonoured. And the king holds this to be well done. SECTION OF THE BRAMANS AND THEIR CUSTOMS. The Gentile Bramans are priests all of one lineage, and others cannot be priests, but only their own sons. And when these are seven years old, they put round their necks a strap two fingers in width of an animal which they call Cressua-mergan,[217] with its hair, which is like a wild ass; and they command him not to eat betel for seven years, and all this time he wears that strap round the neck, passing under the arm, and when he reaches fourteen years of age they make him a Braman, removing from him the leather strap round his neck, and putting on another of three threads, which he wears all his life as a mark of being a Braman. And they do this with much ceremony and festivity, just as here at the first mass,[218] and from this time forward he may eat betel. They do not eat flesh nor fish, they are much reverenced and honoured by the Indians, and they are not executed for any offence which they may commit: but their chief, who is like a bishop, chastises them in moderation. They marry only once, and only the eldest brother has to be married, and of him is made a head of the family like a sole heir by entail,[219] and all the others remain bachelors, and never marry. The eldest is the heir of all the property. These Bramans, the elder brothers, keep their wives very well guarded, and in great esteem, and no other man can approach them; and if any of the married ones die, the person who becomes widowed does not marry again. And if the wife commits adultery, the husband kills her with poison. These young men who do not marry, nor can marry, sleep with the wives of the nobles, and these women hold it as a great honour because they are Bramans, and no woman refuses them. And they must not sleep with any woman older than themselves. And these live in their houses and estates, and they have great houses of prayer, in which they do service as abbots, and whither they go to recite their prayers at fixed times of the day, and worship their idols and perform their ceremonies. And these temples have their principal doors to the west, and each temple has three doors, and in front of the principal gate, outside of it, is a stone of the height of a man, with three steps all round it, and in front of that stone inside the church is a small chapel, very dark, inside of which they keep their idol, of gold, silver, or metal, and three lamps burning. And no one may enter there except the minister of that church, who goes in to set before the idol flowers and scented herbs, and they anoint it with sandal and rose water, and take it out once in the morning, and another time in the evening with sound of trumpets and drums, and horns. And he who takes it out first washes thoroughly, and carries it on his head with the face looking backwards, and they walk with it three times in procession round the church, and certain wives of the Bramans carry lighted lamps in front, and each time that they reach the principal door, they set the idol on that stone and there worship it, and perform certain ceremonies; and having ended the three turns with music and rejoicing, they again place it in the chapel, and each day they do this twice, by day and at night. And around this church there is a stone wall, between which and the church they walk in the before mentioned procession, and they carry over the idol a very lofty canopy upon a very long bamboo for state as for kings. They place all the offerings upon the stone before the principal gate of the temple, and twice a day it is washed, and they set cooked rice upon it to feed the crows twice a day with great ceremony. These Bramans greatly honour the number trine: they hold that there is a God in three persons, and who is not more than one. All their prayers and ceremonies are in honour of the trinity, and they, so to say, figure it in their rites, and the name by which they call it is this, Berma Besnu Maycereni, who are three persons and one sole god,[220] Thus they confess him to be from the beginning of the world. They have no knowledge or information of the coming of Jesus Christ. They believe many more vain things, which they speak of. These people each time that they wash put some ashes upon their heads, foreheads and breasts, in token that they have to turn again into ashes; and when they die they have their bodies burned. When the wife of a Braman is in the family way, as soon as the husband knows it he cleans his teeth, and eats no more betel nor trims his beard, and fasts until his wife gives birth to her child. The kings make great use of these Bramans for many things, except in deeds of arms. Only Bramans can cook the king's food, or else men of the king's own family, and so all the king's relations have this same custom of having their food cooked by Bramans. These are the messengers who go on the road from one kingdom to another, with letters and money and merchandise, because they pass in safety in all parts, without any one molesting them, even though the kings may be at war. These Bramans are well read in the law of their idolatry, and possess many books, and are learned and masters of many arts: and so the kings honour them as such. SECTION OF THE NAIRS OF MALABAR, WHO ARE THE GENTRY, AND THEIR CUSTOMS. In these kingdoms of Malabar there is another sect of people called nairs, who are the gentry, and have no other duty than to carry on war, and they continually carry their arms with them, which are swords, bows, arrows, bucklers, and lances. They all live with the kings, and some of them with other lords, relations of the king, and lords of the country, and with the salaried governors; and with one another. And no one can be a nair if he is not of good lineage. They are very smart men, and much taken up with their nobility. They do not associate with any peasant, and neither eat nor drink except in the houses of other nairs. These people accompany their lords day and night; little is given them for eating and sleeping, and for serving and doing their duty; and frequently they sleep upon a bare bench to wait for the person whom they serve, and sometimes they do not eat more than once a day; and they have small expenses for they have little pay. Many of them content themselves with about two hundred maravedis[221] each month for themselves and the servant that attends to them. These are not married nor maintain women or children; their nephews the sons of their sisters are their heirs. The nair women are all accustomed to do with themselves what they please with bramans or nairs, but not with other people of lower class under pain of death. After they are ten or twelve years old or more, their mothers perform a marriage ceremony for them in this manner. They advise the relations and friends that they may come to do honour to their daughters, and they beg some of their relations and friends to marry these daughters, and they do so. It must be said they have a small gold jewel made, which will contain half a ducat of gold, a little shorter than the tag of a lace, with a hole in the middle passing through it, and they string it on a thread of white silk; and the mother of the girl stands with her daughter very much dressed out, entertaining her with music and singing, and a number of people. And this relation or friend of hers comes with much earnestness, and there performs the ceremony of marriage, as though he married with her, and they throw a gold chain round the necks of both of them together, and he puts the above mentioned jewel round her neck, which she always has to wear as a sign that she may now do what she pleases.[222] And the bridegroom leaves her, and goes away without touching her nor having more to say to her, on account of being her relation; and if he is not so, he may remain with her if he wish it, but he is not bound to do so if he do not desire it. And from that time forward the mother goes begging some young men, "que le desvirguen aquella hija, porque lo an entre sy por cosa sucia y casi vileza a desvirgar mugeres." And after she is already a woman the mother goes about seeking who will take her daughter to live with him. But when she is very pretty three or four nairs join together and agree to maintain her, and to live all of them with her; and the more she has the more highly is she esteemed, and each man has his appointed day from midday till next day at the same hour, when the other comes; and so she passes her life without anyone thinking ill of it. And he who wishes to leave her, does so whenever he pleases, and goes to take another. And if she takes a dislike to any of them she dismisses him. The children which she has remain at the expense of the mother and of the brothers of the mother, who bring them up, because they do not know the fathers, and even if they should appear to belong to any persons in particular, they are not recognised by them as sons, nor do they give anything for them. And it is said that the kings made this law in order that the nairs should not be covetous, and should not abandon the king's service.[223] These nairs, besides being all of noble descent, have to be armed as knights by the hand of the king, or lord with whom they live, and until they have been so equipped they cannot bear arms nor call themselves nairs, but they enjoy the freedom and exemption and advantages of the nairs in many things. In general when these nairs are seven years of age they are immediately sent to school to learn all manner of feats of agility and gymnastics for the use of their weapons. First they learn to dance, and then to tumble, and for that purpose they render supple all their limbs from their childhood, so that they can bend them in any direction. And after they have exercised in this, they teach them to manage the weapons which suit each one most. That is to say bows, clubs, or lances; and most of them are taught to use the sword and buckler, which is of more common use among them. In this fencing there is much agility and science. And there are very skilful men who teach this art, and they are called Panicars;[224] these are captains in war. These nairs when they enlist to live with the king, bind themselves and promise to die for him; and they do likewise with any other lord from whom they receive pay. This law is observed by some and not by others; but their obligation constrains them to die at the hands of anyone who should kill the king or their lord: and some of them so observe it; so that if in any battle their lord should be killed, they go and put themselves in the midst of the enemies who killed him, even should those be numerous, and he alone by himself dies there: but before falling he does what he can against them; and after that one is dead another goes to take his place, and then another: so that sometimes ten or twelve nayrs die for their lord. And even if they were not present with him when he was killed, they go and seek him who killed him, or the king who ordered him to be killed: and so one by one they all die. And if anyone is in apprehension of another man, he takes some of these nairs, as many as he pleases, into his pay; and they accompany and guard him; and on their account he goes securely, since no one dares to molest him; because if he were molested they and all their lineage would take vengeance on him who should cause this molestation. These guards are called Janguada:[225] and there are some people who sometimes take so many of these nairs, and of such quality, that on their account they no longer fear the king, who would not venture to command the execution of a man who was guarded by these, in order not to expose many nairs to danger for it. And even if the nairs were not in his company when the man they guard was killed, they would not any the less revenge his death. These nayrs live outside the towns, separate from other people, on their estates which are fenced in. They have there all that they require; they do not drink wine. When they go anywhere they shout to the peasants that they may get out of the way where they have to pass; and the peasants do so, and if they did not do it the nayrs might kill them without penalty. If a young man of family who is very poor meets a rich and respectable peasant, one favoured by the king, he makes him get out of the road in the same manner, as if he were a king. These nayrs have great privileges in this matter, and the nayr women even greater with the peasants, and the nairs with the peasant women. This, they say, is done to avoid all opportunity of mixing their blood with that of peasants. And if a peasant were by misfortune to touch a nayr lady, her relations would immediately kill her and likewise the man that touched her, and all his relations. When these nayrs order any work to be done by the peasants, or buy anything of them which they take, being between man and man, they are not exposed to any other penalty on touching one another than the not being able to enter their houses without first washing themselves and changing their clothes for others that are clean. And likewise as regards the nair women and the peasant women: these practices are more observed in the country. No nair woman ever enters the towns under pain of death except once a year, when they may go for one night with their nayrs wherever they like. On that night more than twenty thousand nair women enter Calicut to see the town, which is full of lamps in all the streets, which the inhabitants set there to do honour to the nairs, and all the streets are hung with cloth. And the nair women come in to see the houses of their friends and of their husbands, and there they receive presents and entertainment, and are invited to eat betel: and it is held to be a great politeness to receive it from friends. Some of them come wrapped up,[226] and others uncovered; and the women relations of the kings and great lords come also to see the city on this night, and to walk about it, looking at the property of the great merchants, from whom they receive presents, in order that they may favour them with the king. Those nayrs whom the king has received as his, he never dismisses however old they may be; on the contrary, they always receive their pay and rations, and he grants favours to whoever has served well. And if some years should pass without their being paid, some four or five hundred of the aggrieved rise up, and go in a body to the palace, and send word to the king that they are going away dismissed, to take service with another king, because he does not give them food. Then the king sends to beg them to have patience, and that he will send and pay them immediately. And if he does not immediately give them a third part of what is due, and an order for the payment of the rest, they go away to another king, wherever it appears to them that they can best suit themselves; and they engage with him, and he receives them willingly, and gives them food for thirteen days before he has them enrolled for pay. And during this time this king sends to inquire of their king if he intends to send and pay them; and if he does not pay them, then he receives them in his pay, and gives them the same allowances which they had in their own country, from which and from their king in such a case they remain disnaturalized. And many undertake, but few perform this, because their king grants them a remedy, and holds it to be a great disgrace should they go away. When these nayrs go to the wars their pay is served out to them every day as long as the war lasts; it is four taras per day each man, which are worth five maravedis each,[227] with which they provide for themselves. And during the time that they are at war, they may touch any peasant, and eat and drink with them in their houses, without any penalty. And the king is obliged to maintain the mother and family of any nayr who may die in the war, and those persons are at once written down for their maintenance. And if these nayrs are wounded, the king has them cured at his expense, besides their pay, and has food given them all their lives, or until they are cured of their wounds. These nayrs show much respect to their mothers,[228] and support them with what they gain, because besides their allowances, most of them possess houses and palm trees and estates, and some houses let to peasants, which have been granted by the king to them or to their uncles, and which remain their property. They also have much respect for their elder sisters, whom they treat as mothers. And they do not enter into a room with those that are young girls, nor touch them nor speak to them, saying that it would give occasion to sin with them, because they are younger and have less understanding, which could not happen with the elder ones, on account of the respect they have for them. These nair women every month set themselves apart in their houses for three days without approaching anyone; at which time a woman has to prepare her food in separate pots and pans. And when the three days are ended, she bathes with hot water which is brought there, and after bathing dresses in clean clothes, and so goes out of the house to a pool of water and bathes again, and again leaves those clean clothes, and takes other fresh ones, and so returns home, and talks with her mother and sisters and the other people. And the room where she was for those three days is well swept and wetted, and plastered with cow dung, because otherwise no one would dwell there. These women when they are confined, three days afterwards are washed with hot water, and after getting up from their confinement they bathe many times each day from head to foot. They do no business, eat the bread of idleness, and only get their food to eat by means of their bodies: because besides each one having three or four men who provide for them, they do not refuse themselves to any braman or nayr who pays them. They are very clean and well dressed women, and they hold it in great honour to know how to please men. They have a belief amongst them that the woman who dies a virgin does not go to paradise.[229] SECTION OF THE BRABARES WHO ARE MERCHANTS OF THE KINGDOM OF MALABAR, OF THEIR CUSTOMS AND SECT. In this kingdom of Calicut, and in all the other Malabar kingdoms, there is a sect of gentile merchants who are called amongst them brabares, who trafficked also before foreign persons came to port or navigated in these seas. These still deal, especially in the interior, in all sorts of goods, and collect all the pepper and ginger from the nayrs and cultivators, and frequently buy them in advance in exchange for cotton stuffs, and other goods which come from beyond the sea. These people are also great changers, and gain much upon coin. They enjoy such freedom in this country that the kings cannot sentence them to death, but the chief men of these brabares assemble together in council, and having arrived at the knowledge that the offender deserves death, they kill him, the king having information thereof: and if the king knows first of the offence before them, he informs them of it, and they kill him with dagger or lance thrusts. For the most part they are very rich people, and possess in the country many estates inherited from old times. They marry only one wife in our fashion, and their sons are their immediate heirs; and when they die their bodies are burned, and their wives accompany the body weeping for him: and she takes from her neck a small gold jewel which he gave her when he married her, and she throws it into the fire upon him, and then returns to her house, and never more can be married, however young she may be. And if she were to die before her husband he has her burned, and may marry again. These people are of as pure lineage as the nairs, men and women, and they may touch one another. SECTION OF THE CUJAVEN, WHO ARE POTTERS AND WORKERS OF CLAY. There is another sect of people among the Indians of Malabar, which is called Cujaven, and which is only separated from the nayrs on account of a fault which they committed.[230] For this reason they remained as a separate sect. Their business is to work at baked clay, and tiles for covering houses, with which the temples and Royal buildings are roofed; and by law no other persons may roof their houses except with palm branches. Their idolatry and their idols are different from those of the others; and in their houses of prayer they perform a thousand acts of witchcraft and necromancy; they call their temples pagodes, and they are separate from the others. Their descendants cannot take any other sect nor any other occupation. In their marriages they follow the law of the nayrs. The nayrs may cohabit with their women, provided that they do not re-enter their houses without washing themselves from that sin, and putting on a change of clean garments. SECTION OF THE WASHERMEN. In this country there is another sect of gentiles whom they call manatamar,[231] and their business is only to wash the clothes of the bramans, kings, and nayrs; and they live by this business, and they cannot adopt other employments, nor can their descendants. The men are those that wash, and they wash in their houses in large tanks and reservoirs which they have got for this purpose. They have constantly in their houses such a large quantity of clothes to wash, both of their own and of strangers, that they hire out many of them day by day to the nayrs who have not got their own, and they pay so much a day for them when clean; and so each day they return them the dirty ones, and fetch away clean clothes. And the clothes have to be suitable to each person. They wash for a great many people for money, so that they serve all with cleanliness, and they all gain their livelihoods very sufficiently. Their lineage does not mix with any other, neither can any other with theirs; only the nayrs can have mistresses from amongst the women of this lineage, with the condition that each time that they approach them, they have to bathe themselves and change their garments before entering their houses. These washermen have got idolatries of their own, and their houses of prayer are separate, and they believe in many extravagant things. They marry like the nairs, their brothers and nephews inherit their property, and they do not recognise their sons. SECTION OF THE WEAVERS OF THE MALABAR COUNTRY. There is another set of gentiles, still lower, whom they call chalien, who are weavers and have no other business except to weave cloths of cotton, and some of silk, which are of little value, and are used by the common people. And these also have a sect and form of idolatry apart. Their lineage does not mix with any others; only the nairs may have mistresses amongst the women of these people, so that they do not enter their houses without bathing and changing their clothes, whenever they have visited them. Many of these are sons of nairs, and so they are very fine men in their figures; and they bear arms like the nayrs and go to the wars, and fight very well. In marriages they have the law of the nairs, and their sons do not inherit. Their wives have the power of doing what they please with themselves with the nairs, or with other weavers: and they cannot mix with any other lineage under pain of death.[232] SECTION OF LOW PEOPLE: ZIVIL TIVER. Of low people zevil tiver,[233] there are eleven sects, which no respectable people touch under pain of death: and between each other there is a great difference and separation, and one family does not mix with another. The best of these are labourers, whom they call tiver. Their principal employment is to till the palm trees, and gather their fruits; and to carry everything for hire from one point to another, because they are not in the habit of transporting them with beasts of burden, as there are none: and they hew stone, and gain their livelihood by all kinds of labour. Some of them learn the use of arms, and fight in the wars when it is necessary. They all carry a staff in their hand of a fathom's length as a sign of their lineage. Most of them are serfs of the nayrs, to whom the king of the country gives them, in order that their masters may be supported by their labour, and these protect and shew favour to these slaves. These people have an idolatry of their own, and believe in their idols. Their nephews are their heirs, and their sons do not inherit, because the wives whom they marry get their livelihood with their bodies, and give themselves to the Moors, natives of the country, and also to foreigners of all kinds; and this very publicly, and with the knowledge of their husbands who give them opportunities for so doing. They make wines in the country, and they alone can sell it. They take much care not to touch other people lower than themselves; and live separate from other people. Of this sect sometimes two brothers have one wife only and both of them live with her. MOGUER. I find another sect of people still lower, moguer, which they call moguer,[234] who are almost like the tivers, but they do not touch one another. These are the people who transport the king's property from one place to another when he moves. There are very few of these in the country, they have a sect of their own, and have no law of marriage; their wives are public for all, and for strangers. These people for the most part get their living at sea, they are mariners and fishermen. They have a separate idolatry: they are slaves of the kings and nayrs and bramans. There are some of them very rich men who have got ships with which they navigate, for they gain much money with the Moors. Their nephews are their heirs, and not their sons, because they do not marry. They take care not to touch other people lower than themselves. These people live in separate villages: their women are very pretty, and whiter than others of this country, because they are for the most part daughters of foreigners who are white: they are very smartly dressed and adorned with gold. CANION. There is another lower set of gentiles called canion. Their business is to make shields and shades[235]: they learn letters and astronomy, and some of them are great astrologers, and they foretell many future things, and form very accurate judgments upon the births of men. Kings and great persons send to call them, and come out of their palaces to the gardens and pleasure grounds to see them and ask them what they desire to know: and these people form judgments upon these things in a few days, and return to those that asked of them, but they may not enter the palaces, nor may they approach the king's person on account of being low people. And the king is then alone with them. They are great diviners, and pay great attention to times and places of good and bad luck, which they cause to be observed by these kings and great men, and by the merchants also: and they take care to do their business at the times which these astrologers advise them, and they do the same in their voyages and marriages. And by this means these men gain a great deal. They reckon the months, seasons, signs and planets as we do, except that they have months of twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one and thirty-two days: and their first month of the year is April. From May till the middle of October they have their winter, and during this time it rains much in that country, and there are frequent storms, without any cold: and from the middle of October till the end of April is the summer, of great heat and little wind. And on the coast there are many land breezes, and frequent changes in the sea breezes. They navigate their ships in the summer, and in the winter they draw them up on shore, and cover them up on account of the heavy falls of rain. AJARE. Another lower lineage amongst these gentiles is called ajare. Their business is that of quarry men and carpenters, and others are blacksmiths, carvers of metals, and silversmiths. These are all of a sect different from the idolatry of the other people. These people marry and their sons inherit their property and employments which they teach them from their childhood. They are slaves of the king and the nairs, and very skilful in their business. MUCOA. There is another lower sect of gentiles called mucoa, who are fishermen and mariners, without other business. They sail in ships of moors and gentiles, and are quite at home on the sea: they also live in separate villages. They are great thieves, and shameless: they marry and their children inherit, and their wives sleep with whom they like without their thinking ill of it. They have a separate sect and form of idolatry, and are also slaves of the king and the nayrs of the country. They do not pay any duty on the fresh fish which they sell, and if they dry it they pay four per cent. duty: and the fresh fish is very cheap. This is the chief food in use amongst the Indians, for they are people who eat very little meat on account of the country being very populous[236] and of few flocks. There are some of these fishermen who are very rich and well supplied, they have large houses and property. The king takes them when he pleases, and puts much pressure on them because they are slaves. BETUA. There is another lower sect of gentiles called betua. Their business is to make salt, to plough and sow rice, and they do not live by anything else: they have houses in the country apart from the roads where respectable people pass. These people have a form of idolatry of their own: they also are slaves of the king and of the nayrs. They live very miserably: the nayrs make them keep far aloof from them, and speak to them from a great distance: they have no intercourse with other people. They are married and their children inherit. PANEU. There is another sect even lower of these people, called paneu,[237] who are great practisers of witchcraft, and they do not gain their living by anything else than charms. They visibly speak with devils who put themselves within them, and make them do awful things. When any king falls ill of fevers or any other illness, he immediately sends to call these men and women; of whom the most accomplished charmers come with their wives and children. Twenty-two families establish their dwellings at the gate of the palace of the king, or house of the person who is suffering, and has sent to call them: and there they set up a tent of coloured cloth in which they all place themselves. And there they paint their bodies with colours, and make crowns of painted paper and cloth, and other inventions of many sorts, with plenty of flowers and herbs, and great bonfires, and lighted lamps, and kettle-drums, trumpets, horns, and lutes, which they sound; and in this manner they come out of the tent two and two, with their swords in their hands, shouting and jumping, and running about the place or the court of the palace, and they jump upon one another's backs, and go on this way for some time, sticking one another with knives, and pushing one another naked and barefooted into the fire, until they are tired; and so they come out both men and boys two and two together to do the same thing again: and the women shout and sing with a great noise. And they go on this way for two or three days, night and day, always performing together, and they make rings of earth, and lines of red ochre and white clay, and spread upon them rice and flowers of various colours, and put lights all round, and go on this way until the devil, for whose service they do all this, enters into one of them, and makes him say what the king is suffering from, and what must be done to cure him. And then they tell it to the king, and he remains satisfied and gives them many presents, and does what they tell him, either as to making offerings to their idols, or any other matter which they enjoin him to do. And so he gets well by the work of the devil, to whom they all belong. These also live separated from intercourse with the nayrs and respectable people, and do not touch any other sect. They are great hunters and archers: they kill many boars and stags upon which they maintain themselves. They are married and their children inherit. RENOLENI. There is another sect of people still lower, who are called renoleni,[238] who live in the mountains very poorly and miserably. And they have no other occupation than bringing wood and grass to the city for sale, to support themselves. And these people have no intercourse with any others, nor others with them, under pain of death; and they go naked, covering only their middles, many of them do so with only leaves of trees, and some with small and very dirty cloths. They marry and their children are their heirs. The women wear much brass on their ears, necks, arms, and legs, in bracelets, rings, and beads. PULER. There is another lower sect of gentiles called puler.[239] These are held as excommunicated and accursed; they live in swampy fields and places where respectable people cannot go: they have very small and abject huts, and plough and sow the fields with rice, they use buffaloes and oxen. They do not speak to the nairs, except from a long way off, as far as they can be heard speaking with a loud voice. When they go along the road they shout, so that whoever comes may speak to them, and that they may withdraw from the roads, and put themselves on the mountains. And whatever woman or man should touch these, their relations immediately kill them like a contaminated thing: and they kill so many of these pulers until they are weary of it, without any penalty. These low people during certain months of the year try as hard as they can to touch some of the nair women, as best they may be able to manage it, and secretly by night, to do harm. So they go by night amongst the houses of the nayrs to touch women, and these take many precautions against this injury during this season. And if they touch any woman, even though no one see it, and though there should be no witnesses, she, the nair woman herself, publishes it immediately, crying out, and leaves her house without choosing to enter it again to damage her lineage. And what she most thinks of doing is to run to the house of some low people, to hide herself, that her relations may not kill her as a remedy for what has happened, or sell her to some strangers as they are accustomed to do. And touching is in this manner, that even if there is no contact from one person to another, yet by throwing anything, such as a stone or a stick, if the person is hit by it, he remains touched and lost. These people are great charmers, thieves, and very vile people. PARENI.[240] There is yet another sect of people among them still lower, who live in desert places, called pareni. These likewise do not converse with any one. They are looked upon as worse than the devil, and as altogether condemned:[241] so that by looking at them only they consider themselves as defiled and excommunicated, which they call contaminated. They support themselves on yname, which is like the root of the maize which is found in the island of Antilla, and on other roots and wild fruits, and they cover themselves with leaves and eat the flesh of wild animals. And with these ends the diversity of the sects of the gentiles, which are in all eighteen, each one by itself: they live without intercourse or intermarriage of one with another. OTHER KINDS OF PEOPLE. In these kingdoms of Malabar, besides the races of the kings and gentiles and natives of the country, there are other foreign people who are merchants and traders in this country, in which they possess houses and estates; and they live like natives of the country, and observe their own sect and customs, which are the following. CHETIS. Some of these are called Chetis,[242] who are gentiles, natives of the province of Cholmender, which will be mentioned further on. For the most part they are brown men, and some of them are almost white; they are tall and stout. These people are considerable merchants and changers, they deal in precious stones of all sorts, and in seed pearl, coral, and other valuable merchandise; and in gold, silver, either bullion or coined, which is a great article of trade amongst them, because they rise and fall many times. They are rich and respected, and live very decently; they have very good houses in streets set apart for themselves; and also their temples and idols are different from those of the country. They go bare from the waist upwards, and have cotton cloths many cubits in length wrapped round them; on their heads they wear small caps, and very long hair gathered up inside the caps; their beards shaved, and a few pinches of ashes with sandal and saffron, on their heads, breasts, and arms. They have holes in their ears, so large that they would almost hold an egg, full of rings of gold and jewelry, and many gold rings with jewels on their fingers, and round their waists gold belts, some of them studded with precious stones. They also carry with them continually large bags in which their scales and weights are kept, and their money, and jewels and pearls. And their sons as soon as they have passed the age of ten do the same, and go about changing small coin. They are great clerks and accountants, and make out all their accounts on their fingers: they are great usurers, so much so that from one brother to another they do not lend a real without gain. They are very orderly people in their food and expenditure; they keep account of everything, and are very subtle in their dealings. Their language differs from that of the Malabars, like that of Castilians and Portuguese. They marry in our fashion, and their children are their heirs: and if their wives become widows, they never marry again, however young they may be; but if the husband becomes a widower he may marry again. Should the wife commit adultery the husband may kill her with poison. And these people have their own jurisdiction, and the king cannot have anything to say in their deeds and faults; they do justice amongst one another, with which the king is well-satisfied. When they die their bodies are burned. They eat all flesh except cow. GUZURATES. There is another sect of gentile merchants in the city of Calicut, which they call Guzarates, who are natives of the Kingdom of Cambay, whose customs have already been related; and they observe them in this city as in their own country. They are men who possess ships, and trade in spices, drugs, cloth, copper, and other kinds of merchandise from this place to the kingdom of Cambay, and that of Decan, where they have other correspondents; and they at the same time are correspondents of others. They have very good houses in separate streets, and their temples and idols different from the others, and many large and small bells in our fashion. The king shows them great honour and favour, and is much pleased with them because they give him much revenue from their trade. Some of them also live in the city of Cananor, and others in Cochin; and so also in other ports of Malabar. But in general most of them reside in Calicut. MAPULER. In all this said country of Malabar there are a great quantity of Moors, who are of the same language and colour as the gentiles of the country. They go bare like the nairs, only they wear, to distinguish themselves from the gentiles, small round caps on their heads and their beards fully grown. So that it appears to me that these people are a fifth part of all the inhabitants that there are in this country. They call these Moors Mapulers, they carry on nearly all the trade of the seaports: and in the interior of the country they are very well provided with estates and farms. So that if the King of Portugal had not discovered India this country would have had a Moorish king: because many of the gentiles turned Moors for any offence which they received amongst one another: and the Moors did them great honour, and if they were women they immediately married them. These people have many mosques in the country in which they also unite in council. PARDESY. There were other foreign Moors in Calicut, whom they call Pardesy. These are Arabs, Persians, Guzarates, Khorasanys, and Decanys: they are great merchants, and possess in this place wives and children, and ships for sailing to all parts with all kinds of goods. They have among them a Moorish governor who rules over and chastises them, without the king meddling with them. And before the King of Portugal discovered the country they were so numerous and powerful in the city of Calicut, that the gentiles did not venture to dispute with them. And after that the King of Portugal made himself master there, and these Moors saw that they could not defend it, they began to leave the country, and little by little they went away from it, so that very few of them remain. And at the time that they prospered in their trade, without any exaggeration, they made ships in this city of a thousand and of eleven hundred bahars bulk, which make four quintals each.[243] These ships are with keels like ours and without any nails, because they sew the planks with mat cords, very well pitched, and the timber very good. The upper works are of different patterns from ours, and without decks,[244] with divisions in which they used to stow much pepper, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, mace, nutmeg, long pepper, sandal and brazil wood, lac, cardamoms, myrabolans, tamarinds, bamboos,[245] and all sorts of jewels and pearls, musk, amber, rhubarb, aloes-wood, many fine cotton stuffs, and much porcelain. And in this manner ten or twelve ships laden with these goods sailed every year in the month of February, and made their voyage to the Red Sea: and some of them were for the city of Aden, and some for Jiddah the port of Mekkah, where they sold their merchandise to others, who transported them thence in other smaller vessels to Turkey and to Suez, and thence by land to Cairo, and from Cairo to Alexandria. And these ships returned laden with copper, quicksilver, vermilion, coral, saffron, coloured velvets, rose-water, knives, coloured camlets, scarlet and other coloured cloths, gold and silver, and other things, and they returned to Calicut from August to the middle of October of the same year that they sailed. These Moors were very well dressed and fitted out, and were luxurious in eating and sleeping. The king gave to each one a nair to guard and serve him, a Chety scribe for his accounts, and to take care of his property, and a broker for his trade. To these three persons such a merchant would pay something for their maintenance, and all of them served very well, and when the merchant bought spices the sellers gave him for each farazola of ginger, which is of twenty-five pounds, three or four pounds of it for them; and so of some other goods, which duties the merchant collects to pay these officials of his. [_Here follow eleven lines in the Lisbon edition, saying_:--These are white men and very gentlemanlike and of good appearance, they go well dressed, and adorned with silk stuffs, scarlet cloth, camlets and cottons: their head-dress wrapped round their heads. They have large houses and many servants: they are very luxurious in eating, drinking, and sleeping; and in this manner they prospered until the Portuguese came to India: now there are hardly any of them, and those that there are do not live at liberty. Hitherto I have spoken at length of all the sects, and different kinds of people of Malabar, and of some set apart in Calicut: now I will relate the position of each kingdom by itself, and how the said country of Malabar is divided.] [_Here follows in the MS. No. 570 of the Munich Royal Library...._ SECTION OF THE MANNER IN WHICH THE COUNTRY OF MALABAR IS DIVIDED, AND OF THAT WHICH GROWS IN IT. You must know that from Cunbala, country of the King of Narsynga, towards the south and along the coast to the kingdom of Cananor, and within it there is a town called Cotcoulam, and on the sea-shore a fortress in which is a nephew of the King of Cananor, as guardian of the frontier. And further on there is a river called Nira-pura, in which is a good town, and seaport, of Moors and Gentiles, and of trade and navigation: in this town resides the said nephew, who at times rises up in rebellion: and the king goes to overthrow him with large forces, and puts him down under his authority. After passing this place along the coast is the mountain Dely, on the edge of the sea; it is a round mountain, very lofty, in the midst of low land: all the ships of the Moors and Gentiles that navigate in this sea of India, sight this mountain when coming from without, and make their reckoning by it. When they are going away the ships take in much good water and wood.... After this at the foot of the mountain to the south is a town called Marave, very ancient and well off, in which live Moors and Gentiles and Jews: these Jews are of the language of the country, it is a long time since they have dwelt in this place. There is much fishery in the neighbourhood of this mountain of Dely: which at sea is seen at a great distance by the ships that are trying to make it. Further on along the coast is a river in which is a handsome town entirely of Moors, and all round many Gentiles, and at the entrance is a small hill on which is a fortress in which the King of Cananor constantly resides. It contains very good wells and which are very capacious. This city is called Balapatan, at four leagues from it is a city of Moors and Gentiles, very large, and of much trade with the merchants of the Kingdom of Narsynga; this town is called eah paranco, in which much copper is expended. CANANOR. Coming to the sea, and passing this town of Balapatan, in which the king lives, towards the south is a very good town called Cananor.] CANANOR. On the sea coast near the kingdom of Calicut towards the south is a city called Cananor, in which there are many Moors and Gentiles of many kinds, who are all merchants, and possess many large and small ships. They trade in all sorts of goods, principally with the kingdom of Cambay and Ormuz, Colan, Dabul Banda, Goa, Ceylon, and the Maldiu Islands. In this city of Cananor the King of Portugal has a fortress and a factory and very peaceable trade, and all round the fortress a town of Christians of the country, married with their wives, who were baptized after the fortress was made, and each day some are baptized. CIECATE. Having passed the said city along the coast towards the south, there is a town of Moors, natives of the country, which also possesses much shipping, named Ciecate.[246] [_Here Ramusio says_: Some lines are wanting here.] TARMAPATAN. Having passed beyond this place, there is a river which makes two arms, and near it a large town of Moors, natives of the country, and very rich, great merchants who likewise possess much shipping. It is called Tarmapatam, and has many and very large mosques; it is the last town of the kingdom of Cananor on the side of Calicut. These Moors when they receive any injury from the king of Cananor, immediately rise up, and withdraw their obedience until the king goes in person to remove the injury, and to cajole them. [_Here the Lisbon edition adds_: and if the Portuguese had not discovered India, this town would already have a Moorish king of its own, and would convert all Malabar to the sect of Mahomed.] COTAOGATO. At four leagues higher up the said river there is another city of Moors, very large, rich, and of much trade, which deals with the people of Narsinga by land, and is called Cotaogato.[247] DESCRIPTION OF WHAT GROWS IN THIS KINGDOM OF CANANOR. Very good pepper grows in this kingdom of Cananor, but there is not much of it; much ginger is also produced in it, which is not of a very good quality, called _Hely_ because it is near the mountain Dely. There grow also much cardamoms, myrobolans, bamboos, zerubs,[248] and zedoary.[249] There are in this country, especially in the rivers, very large lizards which eat men, and their scent when they are alive smells like civet. And throughout the country in the brushwood there are two kinds of venomous serpents, some which the Indians call murcas, and we call hooded snakes,[250] because there is something like an hood on their heads. These kill with their bite, and the person bitten dies in two hours, though he sometimes lasts two or three days. Many mountebanks carry some of these alive in earthen jars, and charmed so that they do not bite, and with them they gain money, putting them round their necks, and exhibiting them. There is another kind of more venomous serpents, which the Indians call mandal, and these kill suddenly by their bite, without the persons bitten being able to speak any more, nor even make any movement. OF MANY TOWNS AND CITIES OF THE KINGDOM OF CALICUT WHICH POSSESS SHIPPING. Leaving the kingdom of Cananor towards the south, on the further side of the river of Tarmapatam, there is a town of Moors of the country, called Terivangaty, which has shipping; and beyond that there is another river on which there is another large place, also belonging to Moors, great merchants and shippers, which is called Mazery; and beyond Mazery there is another town also of the Moors, which is called Chemonbay, which also possesses shipping. And the country inland of these three places is thickly peopled by Nairs, good men who do not obey any king, and they have got two Nair lords who govern them, the before-mentioned Moors are under their rule. PUDOPATANI, FIRST TOWN OF THE KINGDOM OF CALICUT. Having passed these places there is a river called Pudopotani on which is a good town of many Moorish merchants, who own many ships; here begins the kingdom of Calicut. TIRCORE. Further along the coast to the south south-east, is another village of the Moors called Tircore. PANDARENI. Further on south south-east is another Moorish place, which is called Pandarani, in which also there are many ships. CAPUCAD. Further on to south south-east is another town, at which there is a small river, which is called Capucad, where there are many country-born Moors, and much shipping and a great trade of exporting the goods of the country. In this place many soft sapphires are found on the sea beach. CALICUT. Having passed the said place at two leagues further to the south and south-east, is the city of Calicut, where the King of Portugal has a very good fortress, made with the good will of the King of Calicut, after that the Portuguese had routed him; and they have there their principal fortress. CHALYANI. Beyond this city, towards the south is another city, which is called Chaliani, where there are numerous Moors natives of the country and much shipping. PURPURANGARI. Further on there is another city of the King of Calicut, called Purpurangari, inhabited by Moors and Gentiles who deal much in merchandise. PARAVANOR AND TANOR. Further on in the same direction are two places of Moors five leagues from one another. One is called Paravanor and the other Tanor, and inland from these towns is a lord to whom they belong; and he has many nairs, and sometimes he rebels against the King of Calicut. In these towns there is much shipping and trade, for these Moors are great merchants. PANANX. Having passed these towns along the coast to the south there is a river on which is another city of Moors, amongst whom a few Gentiles live, and it is called Pananx.[251] The Moors are very rich merchants and own much shipping. The King of Calicut collects much revenue from this city. CHATNA. There is another river further on called Chatna,[252] and higher up the stream there are many Gentile villages, and much pepper comes out by this river. CRANGOLOR. Further on there is another river which divides the kingdom of Calicut from the country of Cochin, and on this side of the river is a place called Crongolor,[253] belonging to the King of Calicut. The King of Cochin has some rights in this place. There live in it Gentiles, Moors, Indians, and Jews, and Christians of the doctrine of Saint Thomas; they have there a church of Saint Thomas and another of our Lady, and are very devout Christians, only they are deficient in doctrine, of which more will be said hereafter, because from this place further on as far as Cholmender there dwell many of these Christians. OF WHAT IS GATHERED IN THIS KINGDOM OF CALICUT. In the kingdom of Calicut, as has been said, there grows much pepper on trees like ivy, which climbs up the palms and other trees, and poles, and makes clusters; and much very good ginger of the country,[254] cardamoms, myrobolans of all kinds, bamboo canes, zerumba, zedoary, wild cinnamon; and the country produces this though covered with palm trees higher than the highest cypresses: these trees have clean smooth stems without any branch, only a tuft of leaves at the top amongst which grows a large fruit which they call tenga: by this they make profit, and it is a great article of trade, for each year more than four hundred ships are laden with it for many parts. We call these fruits cocoas: these trees give their fruits the whole year without any intermission; and there are others which support the people of Malabar, so that they cannot suffer famine even though all other provisions should fail them: because these cocoas, both green and dry, are very sweet and agreeable, and they give milk, like that of almonds. Now each of these cocoas when green has inside it a quart[255] of water very fresh, savoury, and cordial; it is very nourishing, and when they are dried that water congeals inside in a white fruit the size of an apple, which is very sweet and delicious: they eat the cocoa also when dry. They make much oil of these cocoas in presses as we do, and with the rind which these cocoa-nuts have close to the marrow, they make charcoal for the silversmiths, who do not work with any other charcoal. And with another husk which it has outside the first, which makes many threads, they weave cordage, which is a great article of trade; and from these trees they make wine with the sap, which is like spirits, and in such great quantities, that many ships are laden with it. With the same wine they make very good vinegar, and they also make very sweet sugar, which is yellow like honey, and is a great article of trade in India. With the leaves of the tree they make mats of the size of the leaf, with which they cover all their houses instead of with tiles: and with the tree they also make wood for their houses and for other services, and firewood.[256] And of all these things there is so great abundance that ships are laden with them. There are other palm trees of other kinds, and shorter, from which the leaves are gathered upon which the Gentiles write. There are other palms, slender and very lofty, and of very clean stems, upon which grow clusters of fruit the size of walnuts (which the Indians eat with the betel, which we call Folio Indio), and they call Areca. It is much esteemed among them and is very acid: there is such a quantity of it that they fill many ships with it for Cambay and the kingdom of Decan, and many other parts, after drying and packing it. KINGDOM OF COCHIN. Having passed the town of Crongolor, the extremity of the kingdom of Calicut, towards the south extends the kingdom of Cochin, in which also there is much pepper. It possesses a very fine large river where many and great ships enter, both Portuguese and Moorish. And within it is a large city inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, who are Chetis and Guzaratys, and Jews natives of the country. The Moors and Chetis are great merchants and own many ships, and trade much with Chormandel, Cambay, Cheul, and Dabul, with areca, cocoas, pepper, and jagara, which is sugar of palm trees. The King of Portugal has a very good fortress at the mouth of this river, all round which is a large village of Portuguese and Christians, natives of the country, who were baptised since the Portuguese have inhabited the country; and every day many more are converted. And there are likewise many of the above-named Christians of the doctrine of Saint Thomas, who come there from Culan and other Gentile places, where they are accustomed to live. In this fortress and town of Cochin there is much machinery and apparatus for caulking and refitting ships, and also galleys and caravels, with as much perfection as in our parts. And much pepper is put on board at this place, and spices and drugs which come from Malacca and which are transported every year to Portugal. This King of Cochin has but a small country, and he was not a king before the Portuguese went there, because all the kings of Calicut when newly come into power, had the custom of entering Cochin and depriving the king of his state and taking possession of it, and afterwards they restored it to him again for life. The King of Calicut observed this as a law, and the King of Cochin used to give him a tribute of elephants, and so he returned to Calicut. And the King of Cochin could not coin money, nor roof his houses with tiles, under pain of losing his state. And now since the Portuguese went there, the King of Portugal made him exempt from all this; so that he lords it absolutely and coins money according to his custom. PORCA. Beyond this kingdom of Cochin towards the south, the kingdom of Coulam is entered; between these kingdoms there is a place which is called Porca, it belongs to a lord. In this place dwell many Gentile fishermen who have no other business than to fish in the winter, and in summer to plunder at sea the property of whoever is weaker than themselves: they have small vessels like brigantines, good rowers, and they assemble in numbers with bows and arrows, and go in such a crowd all round any ship that they find becalmed, that they make it surrender by discharging arrows, and take the vessels or ships and put the people safe on shore; and what they steal they divide with the lord of the country, and so they maintain themselves. They call these vessels catur. KINGDOM OF COULAM. Having passed this place the kingdom of Coulam commences, and the first town is called Caymcolan in which dwell many Gentiles, Moors, and Indian Christians of the before-mentioned doctrine of Saint Thomas. And many of these Christians live inland amongst the Gentiles. There is much pepper in this place, of which there is much exportation. THE CITY OF COULAM. Further on along the same coast towards the south is a great city and good seaport, which is named Coulam, in which dwell many Moors and Gentiles, and Christians. They are great merchants and very rich, and own many ships, with which they trade to Cholmendel, the Island of Ceylon, Bengal, Malaca, Samatara, and Pegu: these do not trade with Cambay. There is also in this city much pepper. They have a Gentile king, a great lord of much territory and wealth, and of numerous men at arms, who for the most part are great archers. At this city, withdrawn a little from it, there is a promontory in the sea where stands a very great church which the apostle St. Thomas built miraculously before he departed this life.[257] It must be known that on arriving at this city of Coulan where all were Gentiles, in a poor habit, and going along converting some poor people to our holy faith he brought with him a few companions natives of the country, although they were very few: and while he was in this city, one morning there was found in this port of Coulam a very large piece of timber which had been stranded on the sea-beach, and news of it was immediately brought to the king. He sent many people and elephants to draw it out upon dry land, but they could never move it; and the king himself went in person to it later, and they were unable to draw it out. And as soon as St. Thomas saw them despair of the timber, he went to the king, and said to him: "If I were to draw out this timber would you give me a piece of land upon which to build a church with it, to the praise of our Lord God, Who sent me here." And the king laughed at him, and said to him: "If you see that with all my power it cannot be dragged out, how do you hope to draw it out." And Saint Thomas answered him: "To draw it out by the power of God, which is greater." The king immediately ordered all the land which he asked for this purpose to be given to him. And when it was granted to him, by the grace of the Lord, he went alone to the timber, and tied a cord to it, with which he began to draw it on shore without anyone assisting him. And the timber followed behind him as far as the place where he wished to build the church. The king seeing such a miracle commanded that they should let him do what he pleased with the timber and the land which had been given him; and that he should be shewn favour, because he held him to be a holy man. But he did not choose to turn Christian, and many people became converted to our holy faith. And the said Apostle whom they call Martoma,[258] called many carpenters and sawyers of the country, and began to have the timber worked, and it was so large that it was sufficient by itself for the building of the whole church. And it is a custom amongst the Indians that when the workmen or any persons are going to set to work, the master of the work gives them at midday a certain quantity of rice to eat, and at night he gives to each man a small coin of inferior gold called fanam.[259] And St. Thomas at midday took a measure full of sand, and gave to each of these workmen his measure, which turned into very good rice, and at night he gave to each one a little bit of the wood which he was hewing, and they turned into fanams; so that they went away well satisfied, and so the said Apostle finished the church of Coulam. And when those people saw these miracles and many others which our Lord did by this glorious saint, many Indians turned to the Christian faith, through the whole kingdom of Coulam, which reaches to the frontier of Ceylon, so that there are more than two thousand houses of Christians scattered throughout the country among the Gentiles; and they have a few churches, but most of them are deficient in teaching and some of them wanting in baptism. And when the King of the Indians saw so great a change he feared that if he gave more opportunity for it, the said Christians would multiply so much that they would be able to rise and possess the country. And so he began to persecute the said St. Thomas, who withdrew himself to Cholmendel, and then to a city which was called Muylepur,[260] where he received martyrdom, and there he is buried, as will be mentioned hereafter. And so the Christians remained in the kingdom of Coulam with the before mentioned church which St. Thomas built, and with others about the country. This church was endowed by the King of Coulam with the revenue from the pepper, which remains to it to this day. These Christians had not any Christian doctrine amongst them, nor were they baptized, only they held and believed the faith of Christ in a gross manner. And at a certain period they held a council amongst them and sent men about the world to study the Christian doctrine, and manner of baptism; these men reached Armenia, where they found many Greek Christians and a patriarch who governed them, who seeing their good intention sent with them a bishop and six priests to baptize them and administer the sacraments and perform divine service, and indoctrinate them in the Christian faith. And these remain there for five or six years and then are relieved for an equal period of time, and so on. And in this manner they improved themselves somewhat. These Armenians[261] are white men; they speak Arabic, and have the sacred scriptures in Chaldean, and recite the offices in that language in our fashion. They wear tonsures on their heads the opposite of ours; that is to say, that, where ours shave they wear hair, and where we have the hair they shave it. They go dressed in white shirts and caps on their heads, barefooted, and with long beards; they are very devout people, and say mass on altars like ours with a cross (+) in front of them. And he who says mass is in the middle of the altar, and those who assist him are at the sides. They communicate with salt bread instead of a wafer, and they consecrate of that bread enough for all that are in the church, and they give it to all of them divided like blessed bread.[262] Each one who communicates goes to receive it at the foot of the altar with his hand.[263] The wine is in this manner, because there is no wine in India; they take raisins which come from Mekkah and Ormuz, and put them for a night in water; and on the next day when they have to say mass they squeeze them and with the juice they say their mass. These priests baptize for money,[264] and go away from this country of Malabar very rich when they return to their own country. And many remain unbaptized for want of money. TIRINANGOTO. Further on along the same coast towards the south, is a town of Moors and Gentiles called Tirinamgoto, which also possesses shipping. The town and territory belong to a lord, a relation of the King of Coulam; it is abundantly supplied with provisions, rice and meat. CAPE OF COMORY. [Further along the coast is the Cape of Comery where the Malabar country finishes; but the kingdom of Coulam reaches thirty leagues further, as far as a city which is called Cael.][265] [At this Cape Comory there is an ancient church of Christians, which was founded by the Armenians, who still direct it, and perform in it the divine service of Christians and have crosses on the altars. All mariners pay it a tribute, and the Portuguese celebrate mass there when they pass. There are there many tombs, amongst which there is one which has written on it a Latin epitaph: "Hic jacet Cataldus Gulli filius qui obiit anno...."][266][267] ARCHIPELAGO OF ISLES. Opposite this country of Malabar, forty leagues to the west in the sea, there is an archipelago of isles, which the Indians say amount to twelve thousand; and they begin in front of the mountain Dely, and extend southwards. The first are four small flat islands, which are called Malandiva; they are inhabited by Malabar Moors, and they say that they are from the kingdom of Cananor. Nothing grows in them, except palm trees (cocoa-nut), with the fruit of which and rice brought them from Malabar, they maintain themselves. These islands make much cordage of palm trees, which they call cayro (coir). ISLANDS OF PALANDIVA. Over against Panam, Cochin, and Coulam, to the west and south-west, at a distance of seventy-five leagues are other islands, of which ten or twelve are inhabited by Moors, brown and small in stature, who have a separate language and a Moorish king who resides in an island called Mahaldiu.[268] And they call all these islands Palandiva. The inhabitants are ill-formed and weak, but are very ingenious and charming. Their king is elected by some Moorish merchants, inhabitants of Cananor, and they change him when they please. These persons receive tribute of him every year in cordage and other produce of the country. They go there to load their ships without money, because the people of the country, with or against their will, have to give these said Moors whatever they wish. There is much fish in these islands, of which they prepare much dried,[269] which is a great article of trade. And as ballast for the ships which take on board these things, they carry away sea-snails, which are worth a good deal in many parts, and in some, especially Cambay, they serve as small change. Many fine cotton cloths are manufactured in these islands, and others of silk and gold, which are worth a good deal amongst the Moors. They gather much amber in these islands, of a good quality and in large pieces, white, grey, and brown; and I asked several of these Moors various times how the amber was produced: they hold that it is the droppings of birds, and say that in this archipelago in the uninhabited islands there are some large birds which perch on the rocks near the sea, and there void that amber, which becomes refined by exposure to the air, the sun and the rain, until some storms arise and gales of wind, which drive the sea waves over the rocks, and this bird-dung is torn off the rocks in large and small pieces, and so carried out to sea, where it floats till they meet with it, or it is cast up on some beach, or that some whales swallow it. And they say that what is found of a white colour, and which they call ponabar, has been in the sea only for a short time, and this they value most highly amongst themselves; and that the other which is found of a greyish colour, and which they name puambar, has been, they say, in the sea for a long time, and has taken that colour from floating about in the water; this also is very good, but not equal to the white; and what they find of a brown colour and bruised, has been swallowed, they say, by whales, and turned brown in their bodies, and that it has such a quality that the whale cannot digest it, and they eject it whole just as they swallowed it; this they call minabar, and it is that which among them has least value. In these isles of Maldiva they construct many large ships of palm tree, sewn together with matting, for there is no other wood there. Some of these sail to the mainland, and are ships with keels and of much tonnage; they also construct there other small rowing vessels, like brigantines and _fustas_, very pretty and good for rowing, which they use to go from one island to another; and they likewise cross over to the Malabar country. Many Moorish ships touch at these islands from China, Malacojana, Malaca, Samatra, Bengala, Ceylan, and Peygu, on their passage to the Red Sea: and there they take in water and refreshments for their voyage. Sometimes they arrive so shattered that they unload their cargo there, and they let it be lost. Many of these ships get lost amongst these islands because they do not venture to come to the Malabar coast from fear of the Portuguese. ISLAND OF CEYLAM. Leaving these islands of Mahaldiva further on towards the east, where the cape of Comory is doubled, at thirty-eight leagues from the cape itself, there is a very large and beautiful island which the Moors, Arabs, Persians, and our people call Ceylam,[270] and the Indians call it Ylinarim. It is a rich and luxuriant land, inhabited by Gentiles, and ruled by a Gentile king. Many Moors live in the seaports of this island in large quarters, and all the inhabitants are great merchants. There are fifty leagues of channel towards the north-east from the said cape until passing the island of Maylepur.[271] Both Moors and Gentiles are well-made men, and almost white, and for the most part stout, with large stomachs, and luxurious. They do not understand, nor possess arms, they are all given to trade and to good living. They go bare from the waist upwards, and below that cover themselves with good cloths of silk and cotton, caps on their heads, and the ears pierced with large holes in which they wear many gold rings and jewellery, so much that their very ears reach to their shoulders: and many rings and precious jewels on their fingers; they wear belts of gold richly adorned with precious stones. Their language is partly Malabar and partly of Cholmendel, and many Malabar Moors come to live in this island on account of its being so luxuriant, abundant, and very healthy. Men live longer here than in other parts of India. They have a great deal of very good fruit; and the mountains are full of sweet and sour oranges of three or four kinds, and plenty of lemons and citrons, and many other very good fruits which do not exist in our parts, and they last all the year. And there is plenty of meat and fish, little rice, for most of it comes from Cholmendel, and it is their chief food; much good honey and sugar brought from Bengal, and butter of the country. All the good cinnamon grows in this island upon the mountains, on trees which are like laurels. And the king of the country orders it to be cut in small sticks, and has the bark stripped off in certain months of the year, and sells it himself to the merchants who go there to buy it, because no one can gather it except the king. There are likewise in this island many wild elephants which the king orders to be caught and tamed; and they sell them to merchants of Cholmendel, Narsynga, and Malabar, and those of the kingdoms of Decam and Cambay go to those places to buy them. These elephants are caught in this manner: it must be known that they have got other elephants with which they manage it, and they fasten them with chains in the mountains and woods where they are bred; and at the foot and all round a tree near the elephant they make three or four very large pits, covered over with slender poles, and they strew earth on the top, so that nothing appears: and the wild elephants seeing the female come to her, and fall into these pits, where they keep them seven or eight days half-dead of hunger, and so many men watch them by day and night, always speaking to them so as not to let them sleep, until they tame and render them domestic, giving them their food with their hands. And after they have got them broken in and tame, they take them with strong chains, and by degrees throw so much earth and branches into the pit that the elephant gradually rises until he comes out of the pit, and then they tie him to some tree and keep him some days watching, with fire, and men who always talk to him, and give him food in moderation until they make him domestic and obedient. And in this way they catch them male and female, great and small, and sometimes two at once in one pit. They make great merchandise of them, and they are worth much, because they are much valued by the kings of India for war and for labour, and they become as domestic and quick at understanding as men. The very good ones are worth in the Malabar country and in Cholmendel from a thousand to one thousand five hundred ducats, and the others from four to six hundred ducats according as they may be, but in the island they are to be had for a small price. And all have to be brought and presented to the king. There are also many jewels in this island, rubies which they call manica, sapphires, jacinths, topazes jagonzas,[272] chrysoliths, and cat's eyes, which are as much esteemed amongst the Indians as rubies. And all these stones are all gathered in by the king, and sold by himself. And he has men who go and dig for them in the mountains and shores of the rivers, who are great lapidaries and who are good judges in those matters: so much so that if they have a few handfuls of earth brought them from the mountain, at once on seeing it they know if it is of rubies or of any other stones, and where it comes from. And the king sends them to look there, and after they have brought them he orders to set aside each kind, and pick out the good ones, and he has them worked to have them sold when cut, which he does himself to foreigners; and the other inferior ones he sells at once to the country merchants. These rubies which grow here, for the most part, are not of so brilliant a colour as these which grow in Ava and Capelam, of which mention will be made further on; and some which come out perfect in colour are much more highly prized by the Indians than those of Paygu, because they say that they are stronger. And in order to make them of a deeper colour they put them into the fire. These lapidaries whom the king has near him, on seeing a stone before it is cut, say: this ruby will endure so many hours of fire, and will remain very good. And the king risks it, and orders it to be put in a very strong charcoal fire for that space of time which the lapidary has mentioned to him: and if it endures it without danger, it comes out more perfect in colour, and is worth very much. And all the other stones are found and worked in the same manner: and some stones are found which are half ruby and half sapphire, and others half topaze and half sapphires, and also cat's eyes. The king has a great treasure of these jewels, for whenever he meets with any very good stone he puts it in his treasury. Close to this island of Ceylam in the sea there is a sand-bank covered with ten or fifteen fathoms of water, in which a very great quantity of very fine seed pearls are found, small and great, and a few pearls: and the Moors and Gentiles go there from a city which is called Sael, belonging to the King of Coulam, to fish for this seed pearl, twice a year by custom, and they find them in some small oysters, smoother than those of our parts. And the men plunging under the water, where they remain a considerable time, pick them up: and the seed pearl is for those who gather them, and the large pearls are for the king, who keeps his overseer there, and besides that they give him certain duties upon the seed-pearl. The King of Ceylan is always in a place called Columbo, which is a river with a very good port, at which every year many ships touch from various parts to take on board cinnamon and elephants. And they bring gold and silver, cotton and silk stuffs from Cambay, and many other goods which are saffron, coral, quicksilver, vermilion which here is worth a great deal; and there is much profit on the gold and silver, because it is worth more than in other parts. And there come likewise many ships from Bengal and Cholmendel, and some from Malaca for elephants, cinnamon and precious stones. In this island of Ceylan there are four or five other harbours and places of trade which are governed by other lords, nephews of the King of Ceylan, to whom they pay obedience, except that sometimes they revolt. In the middle of this island is a very lofty mountain range in which is a very high stone peak, and upon it a pool of spring water, and on this stone there is the form of a man's foot,[273] which the Indians say is the footmark of father Adam, whom they call Adam Baba. And from all those parts and kingdoms the Moors come in pilgrimage, saying that father Adam went up from there to heaven, and they go in the habit of pilgrims, with chains of iron, and clothed with skins of leopards, lions, and other wild animals, and on their arms and legs they inflict wounds continually along the road to keep up open sores, saying that they do that for the service of God, and honour of Mahomed and Adam Baba. And some of them go well provided with money which they carry hidden to spend it on the jewels of Ceylon. Before they arrive at this mountain where Adam's footstep is, they go through swampy land, through valleys full of water, and by the banks of water, and they have five or six leagues to go with water to the waist, and all carry knives in their hands to rid themselves of the leeches which fasten on their legs, and which are innumerable. And on arriving at the mountain they make the ascent of it, and they cannot mount up to the pinnacle except by ladders of iron chains,[274] which it has put round it, of a great thickness. And on the top of it they wash with the water of that pool, and perform their prayer: and they say that with that they remain free and pure of all sin. The said island of Ceylon is very near the mainland, and between it and the continent are some banks which have got a channel in the midst, which the Indians call Chylam,[275] by which all the Malabar sambuks pass to Cholmendel. And every year many are lost upon these banks because the channel is very narrow: and in the year that the Admiral of Portugal went the second time to India, so many ships and sambuks of Malabar were lost in those shallows, that twelve thousand Indians were drowned there, who were coming with provisions, and were determined on driving the Portuguese fleet away from India, without allowing it to take any cargo. QUILACARE, OF THE KINGDOM OF COLAM. Leaving the island of Ceylon and returning to the mainland, after doubling Cape Comory at twenty leagues to the north-east, is the country of the King of Colam and of other lords, who live in it subject to him. And the first place is named Quilacare, in which country there are many and great towns of Gentiles and several harbours, where dwell many Moors born in the country. They perform their voyages in small vessels which they call champana.[276] The Malabar Moors come to these towns to trade and to bring Cambay goods, which are worth a good deal there, and a few horses. And they take in rice and cloths for Malabar. And in this province of Quilacare there is a Gentile house of prayer, in which there is an idol which they hold in great account, and every twelve years they celebrate a great feast to it, whither all the Gentiles go as to a jubilee. This temple possesses many lands and much revenue: it is a very great affair. This province has a king over it, who has not more than twelve years to reign from jubilee to jubilee. His manner of living is in this wise, that is to say: when the twelve years are completed, on the day of this feast there assemble together innumerable people, and much money is spent in giving food to Bramans. The king has a wooden scaffolding made, spread over with silken hangings: and on that day he goes to bathe at a tank with great ceremonies and sound of music, after that he comes to the idol and prays to it, and mounts on to the scaffolding, and there before all the people he takes some very sharp knives, and begins to cut off his nose, and then his ears, and his lips, and all his members, and as much flesh off himself as he can; and he throws it away very hurriedly until so much of his blood is spilled that he begins to faint, and then he cuts his throat himself. And he performs this sacrifice to the idol, and whoever desires to reign other twelve years and undertake this martyrdom for love of the idol, has to be present looking on at this: and from that place they raise him up as king. SAEL. Having left Quilacare, further along the coast, at ten leagues to the north-east, is another town called Çael,[277] which belongs to the King of Colam: it is inhabited by Gentiles and great Moorish merchants, and is a seaport where many ships touch every year from Malabar, Cholmendel, and Bengala. They deal in all kinds of goods from all parts at this place. The Chetis of this city are great lapidaries and artists for setting[278] pearls, which fishery belongs to the King of Sahel, who has farmed it for many years forward to a very rich Moorish merchant, who is almost as important in the country as the king. And this person administers justice amongst the Moors, without the king's mixing himself up in it. Those who fish up the pearls, as has been said, fish all the week for themselves, and on the Friday for the owner of the boat; and all of them together fish at the end of the season during which they are there a whole week for this Moor. The king of Colam lives always near this city, and is very rich and powerful on account of his many men at arms, who are very good bowmen. He always has in his guard four or five hundred women, trained from girls to be archers: they are very active. He sometimes is at war with the King of Narsinga, who wishes to take his country, but he defends himself very well. CHORMENDEL. Twelve leagues further on the coast turns to the north, the country is called Cholmender,[279] and it extends seventy or eighty leagues along the coast. In it there are many Gentile cities, towns and villages, and it belongs to the King of Narsinga; it is a land abounding in rice, meat and wheat, and all sorts of vegetables, because it is a country which has very beautiful plains. And many ships of Malabar come here to load rice, and they bring goods from Cambay to this country, that is to say, copper, quicksilver, vermilion, pepper and other goods. And throughout all this Cholmender much spice and drugs, and goods of Malaca, China, and Bengal are to be met with, which the Moorish ships bring here from those parts, since they do not venture to pass to Malabar from dread of the Portuguese. And although this country is very abundantly provided, yet if it should happen any year not to rain it falls into such a state of famine that many die of it, and some sell their own children for a few provisions, or for two or three fanoes, each of which will be worth thirty-six maravedis. And in these times the Malabars carry rice and cocoa nuts to them, and return with their ships laden with slaves, and all the chetis, Gentile merchants, who live throughout India, are natives of this country of Cholmender; they are very sharp, great accountants, and dexterous merchants. And many country-born Moors, mercantile and seafaring men, live in the seaports. MAYLEPUR. Further along this coast, which makes a bend to the north-west and then turns to the north-east, having left the Cholmendel country, at a distance of twelve leagues there is a city almost uninhabited and very ancient, which is called Maylepur; in former times it was a considerable place of the kingdom of Narsinga. In this city is buried the body of the apostle St. Thomas, in a small church near the sea. And the Christians of Cuolam, who are of his doctrine, say that when St. Thomas left Cuolam, on being persecuted by the Gentiles, he went with a few companions to that country, and settled in this city of Maylepur, which at that period was twelve leagues distant from the sea, which later eat away the land, and came in upon it. And there he began to preach the faith of Christ, to which he converted some, whilst others persecuted and wished to kill him, and he separated himself from the people, and went about frequently among the mountains. And one day as he wandered about in that manner, a gentile hunter, with a bow, saw many peacocks together upon the ground in that mountain, and in the midst of them one very large and very handsome standing upon a stone slab; this hunter shot at it, and sent an arrow through its body, and they rose up flying, and in the air it turned into the body of a man. And this hunter stood looking until he saw the body of the said apostle fall. And he went to the city where he related that miracle to the governors, who came to see it, and they found that it was indeed the body of St. Thomas, and then they went to see the place where he had been wounded, and they saw two impressions of human feet marked on the slab, which he left impressed when he rose wounded.[280] And when the governors of the country saw so great a miracle, they said this man was holy, and we did not believe him; and they took him and buried him in the church where he now is, and they brought the stone upon which he left the said footmarks, and they placed it close to his grave; and they say that on burying him they could never put his right arm in the tomb, and it always remained outside; and if they buried him entirely, next day they found the arm above the earth, and so they let it be. The Christians, his disciples and companions who built the said church, and the Gentiles already held him for a saint, and honoured him greatly. He remained thus with his arm outside of the grave for a long time, and they say that many people came there from many quarters in pilgrimage,[281] and that some Chinese came also, who wished to cut off his arm and carry it away as a relic, and that when they were about to strike at it with a sword, he withdrew his arm inside, they say, and it was never seen again. So he remains still in that hermitage, very humbly, and lighted up by the grace of God, because the Moors and Gentiles light him up, each one saying that he is something belonging to them. And the house and church are ordered in our fashion, with crosses on the altar, and at the top of the vault a great wooden cross, and peacocks for a device: this church is much deteriorated. All round it there is much brushwood, and a poor Moor takes care of that building and begs alms for it, and for the lamp, which still continues burning. The Christians of India still go there as pilgrims, and carry away thence as relics some little pellets of earth of the tomb of this blessed apostle. PALECATE. Further on this coast goes forty-three leagues to the north-east and twelve leagues to the north, there is another city of the kingdom of Narsinga, inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, great and rich merchants, it is called Palecate,[282] and is a harbour at which many Moorish ships touch, coming from divers parts with all kinds of goods. It also has much trade with the interior of the kingdom, and they sell there many jewels which are brought from Peygu, especially rubies and spinel-rubies of a good quality, and much musk. These jewels may be had for very little there, by whoever knows how to buy well. The King of Narsynga keeps his governors in this city, and collectors of his revenues. In this place they make many good coloured cotton stuffs which are worth much in Malaca, Peigu, and Samatra, also in the kingdom of Guzurate and Malabar they are much valued for the clothing both of Moors and Gentiles. Copper, quicksilver, vermilion, opium, and many Cambay goods fetch a good price, so also scarlet cloth, coral, saffron, velvets from Mekkah, and rose water. THE MOUNTAIN OF DIGUIRMALE. Having passed this city of Palecate further along the coast which trends to north-east by north as far as Marepata, a distance of a hundred and forty leagues, in which there are many other places belonging to the kingdom of Narsynga, as far as the kingdom of Horisa. KINGDOM OF ORISSA. Further on after passing Marepata, along the coast which trends from hence to north-east by east, the kingdom of Horisa commences. It is of the Gentiles, very good fighting men, and the king is frequently at war with the king of Narsynga, and is powerful in the numbers of his foot soldiers. The greater part of his country is withdrawn from the sea, and has few seaports and little trade. His territory extends seventy leagues along the coast as far as the river Ganges, which they call Guenga,[283] and on the other side of this river commences the kingdom of Bengala, with which he is sometimes at war. And all the Indians go in pilgrimage to this river to bathe in it, saying that with this they all become safe, because it issues from a fountain which is in the terrestrial paradise. This river is very great and magnificent, it is studded on both banks with opulent and noble cities of the Gentiles. Between this river and the Eufrates are the first and the second India, a territory very abundant and well provided, very healthy and temperate, and from this river further on to Malaca is the third India, according as the Moors say. BENGAL. Having passed the river Ganges, along the coast twenty leagues to north-east by east and twelve leagues to the south-west, and then twelve leagues to the east until reaching the river Paralem,[284] is the kingdom of Bengala, in which there are many towns, both in the interior and on the sea-coast. Those of the interior are inhabited by Gentiles, subject to the King of Bengal, who is a Moor; and the seaports are inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, amongst whom there is much trade in goods and much shipping to many parts, because this sea is a gulf which enters towards the north, and at its inner extremity there is a very great city inhabited by Moors which is called Bengala,[285] with a very good harbour. Its inhabitants are white men and well formed. Many foreigners from various parts live in this city, both Arabs and Persians, Abyssinians[286] and Indians, who congregate here on account of the country being very fertile and of a temperate climate. They are all great merchants, and own large ships of the same build as those of Mekkah, and others of the Chinese build which they call jungos, which are very large and carry a very considerable cargo. With these ships they navigate to Cholmender, Malabar, Cambay, Peigu, Tarnasari, Samatra, Ceylon, and Malaca; and they trade in all kinds of goods, from many places to others. There is much cotton in the country, and sugar cane plantations, and very good ginger and much long pepper. They manufacture many kinds of stuffs, extremely fine and delicate, coloured for their own use, and white for trade to all parts; they call them saravetis, and they are excellent for women's head gear, and much valued for that purpose: the Arabs and Persians make caps of this stuff, in such great quantities, that every year they fill several ships with them for different places. And they make others which they call mamuna, and others duguza, and others chautar, and others called topan and sanabafos which are the most valued for their shirts, and which are very durable. They are all of the length of twenty cubits, very little more or less, and in this city they are all at a low price. They are spun by a man with a wheel and woven. White sugar of very good quality is made in this city, but they do not know how to join it to make loaves, and so they pack it up in powder in stuff covered over with raw hide, well sewn up. They load many ships with it and export it for sale to all parts. And when these merchants were accustomed to go freely and without dread to the parts of Malabar and Cambay with their ships, the quintal of this sugar was worth two ducats and a half in Malabar, and a good sinabafo was worth two ducats, and a piece of muslin for women's caps three hundred maravedis; and a chautar of the best quality six hundred maravedis. And those who brought them gained much money. They likewise make many preserves in this city of Bengal, very good ones of ginger, and of oranges, lemons and other fruits which grow in the country. There are also in this country many horses, cows and sheep, and all other meats in great abundance, and very extremely large hens. The Moorish merchants of this city go into the interior of the country and buy many Gentile children of their fathers and mothers, or of others who steal them, and castrate them, cortandole todo de manera que quedan rasos como la palma de la mano. Some of them die of it, and those who recover they bring them up very well, and sell them as merchandise for twenty or thirty ducats each to the Persians, who value them much as guards to their wives and houses.[287] The respectable Moors of this city go dressed in long morisco shirts reaching to the instep, white and of slight texture, and underneath some cloths wrapped round below the waist, and over the shirt a silken sash round the waist, and a dagger set with silver; they wear many jewelled rings on their fingers, and fine cotton caps on their heads. They are luxurious people, who eat and drink a great deal, and have other bad habits. They bathe frequently in large tanks which they have in their houses: they have many servants, and have each of them three or four wives, and as many more as they can maintain. They keep them very much shut up and very richly dressed and adorned with silks and jewels set in gold; they go out at night to visit one another and to drink wine, and hold festivals and marriage feasts. They make various kinds of wine in this country, chiefly of sugar and palm trees, and also of many other things. The women are very fond of these wines, and are much accustomed to them. They are great musicians both in singing and playing on instruments. The men of the common people wear short white shirts half way down the thigh, and drawers, and very small head wraps of three or four turns; all of them are shod with leather, some with shoes, others with sandals, very well worked, sewn with silk and gold thread. The king is a great lord and very rich, he possesses much country inhabited by Gentiles, of whom every day many turn Moors, to obtain the favour of the king and governors. This king possesses more territory further on the before named gulf, inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, both inland and on the sea coast, which turns to the south. KINGDOM OF BERMA. Having passed the kingdom of Bengala, along the coast which turns to the south, there is another kingdom of Gentiles called Berma.[288] In this there are no Moors, nor are there sea ports which can be made use of for trade in merchandise. The people of this kingdom are black men and go naked, for they only cover their middles with cotton cloths. They have their idolatries and houses of prayer. They frequently are at war with the King of Peigu. We have no further information respecting this country because it has no shipping. It is only known that it borders on the kingdom of Bengala on one side, and on the kingdom of Peigu on the other. And it has a gulf in the middle which enters the country in a direction north-east by east forty leagues, and is fourteen leagues wide at the mouth and twenty leagues wide further in, and in the middle of it is a large island which is thirty-six leagues long and from four to ten leagues broad. ERE CAN GUY.[289] Inland of this kingdom of Berma towards the north is another kingdom of Gentiles, very large and which has no sea ports. It also borders on the kingdom of Bengal and the kingdom of Ava, and it is called Ere can guy. The king and people of this kingdom are Gentiles. It is said that this king possesses many cities and towns, and horses and elephants. These elephants are brought from the kingdom of Peigu. These people are brown men, naked from the waist upwards, and wrapped round below the waist with cotton and silk cloths; they use many ornaments of gold and silver. They venerate idols and have large houses of prayer. This king is very rich in money, and powerful from the number of his men at arms: he is often at war with his neighbours, and some of them obey him against their wills, and render him tribute. He lives in great luxury, and possesses very good houses in all the towns where he resides, which have got many pools of water, green and shady gardens, and good trees. They have also got many women at their caprice, and have no law of marriage. In twelve towns of his kingdom he has twelve first-rate palaces in which he has many women brought up; that is, in each of these cities he has a governor who each year takes twelve girls born in that year, daughters of persons of the highest rank and the prettiest to be found; and he has them carefully brought up at the expense of the king, in these palaces, up to the age of twelve years; they are very well dressed, and taught thoroughly to dance and sing and play on musical instruments; in this way each palace constantly contains many of them of tender age. And at the end of the year the governor conducts to the king at whatever place he may be at, twelve damsels of the age of twelve years. The king orders them to be well dressed and to have the name of each one written on their clothes, and the next morning he orders them to be sent up to a terrace in the sun, and there remain fasting until midday. And they perspire so much with the heat of the sun that their clothes become damp, and then the king orders them to be taken to a room where they change their clothes. And the damp garments which they have thrown off are all carried to the king, who smells them, and those which do not smell bad he keeps for himself, and those which smell bad from the perspiration he makes a present of to those of his courtiers who are there present, as also the damsels who had worn them, who are known by the names written on the clothes. The other damsels whose clothes did not smell ill from the perspiration the king keeps for himself.[290] And thus he is always accustomed to do, and in this way they bring to him from all these twelve cities a hundred and forty-four girls, whom he distributes in the manner above described. And he has many amusements in the way of hunting, games, music, feasting and other things. PEYGU. Returning to the sea coast, after passing the kingdom of Berma, towards the south and south-east, there is another kingdom of Gentiles, very wealthy, well supplied with everything, and of great trade in merchandise by sea. It is called Peygu,[291] and extends seventy-five leagues. This kingdom has three or four sea ports in which are many Moorish and Gentile inhabitants, who are very great merchants. And the actual city of Peigu is seven or eight leagues distant from the sea,[292] on the arm of a very great river which runs through this kingdom, and comes from some very high mountains. During certain months of the year there is so great an increase of water, that the river leaves its bed and irrigates a large extent of land, from which a great deal of rice is gathered. They ship from these ports a great quantity of provisions in vessels which have three or four high masts, which they call jungos, for Malaca, Samatara, and other parts, and amongst other things much rice is shipped, and cane sugar, brown and loaf. Many Moorish ships from different parts assemble at these ports of Peigu, and bring thither much cloth of Cambay and Palacate, coloured cottons and silks, which the Indians call patola, which are worth a good deal there; they also bring opium, copper, scarlet cloth, coral in strings, in branches, and polished, quicksilver, vermilion, rose water, and a few drugs from Cambay. In this kingdom they ship very fine lac which grows there. There is much trade in cloves and mace and other Chinese goods, and musk and rubies, which come thither from inland from a city called Ava, of which mention will be made hereafter. The people of this kingdom go undressed, they only cover their middles. They are not warlike, and possess few weapons, and those wretched ones. They are very voluptuous, y traen en los capirotes de sus miembros unos cascaveles redondos cosydos soldados entre la carne y el cuero por hazerselos mayores, algunos traen tres, y algunos cinco, y algunos syete, y dellos de oro y de plata, y otros de metal, los quales les van sonando de que andan y an lo por mucha gentileza y las mugeres huelgan mucho con ellos y no quieren hombres que no los tengan, y los que mas honrados son, esos los traen mas y mayores. (_The Lisbon edition continues_: e nom diga mais deste costume pola desonestidade.)[293] The king is called the King of the White Elephant, and in this kingdom there are very high mountains where many wild elephants are bred; and they have a rule to catch one every day, and the king orders food to be sent them and has them brought up. He has a great quantity of them which he sells to merchants who come there to buy them, to take them to Pelecate, whence they go on to Narsynga, Malabar and Cambaya. There are likewise many small horses which go at an amble, which they make great use of; they also have horses on which they ride à la bastarda,[294] and with these and the elephants, and infantry, they carry on war. There are also many sheep and swine, wild and domestic in this kingdom, and the people are great sportsmen and hunters. MARTAVAN. In this same kingdom of Peygu towards Malaca, there are three or four seaports, of which I do not know the name, amongst them is one very good sea port called Martaban,[295] which is seventy-five leagues to the south south-east from the before-mentioned gulf. Many ships touch at it, and trade there and stow provisions and other goods, especially lac of a very good quality, which grows in the country itself; and the Moors of Persia and India call it lucomartaban. And it also grows in the country of Narsinga, but not so good as this: they say of this lac that it is gum of trees, others say that it grows on the slender branches of the trees, just as in our parts the berries grow. And this explanation appears the most natural. And so they bring it in small sticks, which naturally cannot produce so much gum. In this town of Martaban very large and beautiful porcelain vases are made, and some of glazed earthenware, of a black colour, which are highly valued amongst the Moors, and they export them as merchandise, and they also carry away from this country much benjuy in large loaves. AVA. Inland beyond this kingdom of Peigu between the kingdom of Daran cangui and the kingdom of Dansiam, to the east there is another kingdom of Gentiles which has a king who resides in a very great and opulent city called Ava,[296] eight days' journey from the sea; a place of rich merchants, in which there is a great trade of jewels, rubies, and spinel-rubies, which are gathered in this kingdom. Many foreign merchants flock thither from many parts to buy these jewels, and likewise much musk which is found there. And the king commands all to be gathered for himself, and sells it himself to the merchants of the country who sell it to the foreign merchants. The merchants bring there for sale quicksilver, vermilion, coral, copper, saffron, rose-water, opium, scarlet cloth, coloured velvet from Mekkah, and many other things from the kingdom of Cambay, and the jewels and musk are sold here at a low price in exchange for these goods. These rubies and spinel-rubies are found in the mountains and banks of rivers, by making many holes, and mines where they find these spinel-rubies; and on the surface of the earth and underneath it the rubies are found. The men of the country are very skilful lapidaries who know and cut them well. The musk is found in some small white animals, like gazelles, and they have teeth like elephants, but small. These animals are born with sorts of tumours under the belly and the breast, and these ripen, and after they are mature and have formed like matter, they have so much itching in them that they go to rub themselves against the trees, and the drops which fall from these tumours are of the best and most excellent musk, and the hunters, who pursue them with dogs and nets and other snares, follow their tracks by the smell, and they find these grains of fine musk, and by following them they catch them alive, and bring them to houses appointed for that purpose, where they entirely cut off these tumours with the skin, and they let them dry. These are the genuine musk pouches, of which very few are exported, because they falsify them, and they do it in this way. It must be known that on taking it from the living animal, they place many leeches on the wounds, and allow them to gorge themselves with blood, and when full they put them in the sun to dry, and of these they put so many that the animal falls dead without any blood, and afterwards they skin it, and with the skin they make several counterfeit pouches, which look like the real ones. Having pounded the leeches and reduced them to powder; with the powder they make grains in their hands, and add one weight of good musk taken from the real pouches, to a hundred of this blood of the leeches, and having mixed up the whole, they fill with it the counterfeit pouches, and they look very good. And they also esteem it in these parts as very fine, because the merchants through whose hands it passes adulterate it still further. The real musk is so strong that on putting it to the nostrils it causes the blood to issue. In this kingdom there are many elephants, horses and men devoted to war: and it is a country well supplied with provisions. CAPELAN. Further inland than the said kingdom of Ava, at five days' journey to the south-east is another city of Gentiles which has a ruler who is subject to the said King of Ava. This city is called Capelan,[297] and all round it are likewise found many and excellent rubies, which they bring to sell at the city and fair of Ava, and which are better than those of Ava. KINGDOM OF ANSIAM. Having passed the kingdom of Peigu, further along the coast to the south south-east towards Malaca, eighty-seven leagues from Martaban towards Malaca, and further on in the country is the kingdom of Ansiam,[298] which is of the Gentiles. And the king is a Gentile and a great ruler, and inland his borders are from this coast unto the other side, which is the coast of China: and he has seaports on both sides. He is the lord of many people both horse and foot, and of many elephants. And he does not allow any Moor to bear arms in his country. And from the kingdom of Peigu as far as a city which has a seaport, and is named Tanasery,[299] there are a hundred leagues. In this city there are many Moorish and Gentile merchants, who deal in all sorts of goods, and own ships, with which they navigate to Bengal, Malaca, and other parts. In the inland parts of this kingdom there grows much good benjuy, which is a resin of trees which the Moors call luban javi,[300] and it is of two kinds, that is to say, one which does not smell except in the fire, and the other of much scent, of which the good and genuine storax is made in the Levant, before extracting from it the oil, which in the Levant is extracted from it. And many ships of Moors and from other parts congregate at this port of Tanasary, and bring them copper, quicksilver, vermilion, scarlet cloth, silks, coloured velvets from Mekkah, saffron, coral, wrought and in strings, rose-water from Mekkah in little bottles of tinned copper, and it is sold by weight with the bottle; opium, Cambay stuffs, and all these goods fetch a high price at this place. QUEDA, TOWN OF THE KINGDOM OF ANSYAM. Having left this town of Tanasery further along the coast towards Malaca there is another seaport of the kingdom of Ansiam, which is called Queda,[301] in which also there is much shipping, and great interchange of merchandise. And many ships of the Moors and from other parts come there. Very good pepper grows in the country, which they carry to Malaca, and thence to China. This King of Ansiam has three other sea ports between Malaca and Tenasery, of which I do not know the names, and he possesses many cities, towns, and other villages. Throughout the country in the interior the people are Gentiles, and Moors do not enter there, and if at any time any Moor goes there to trade with them, they do not permit him to carry arms. There is much gold in this kingdom which is collected in the country, particularly in the lordship of Pani[302], which is beyond Malacca towards China, and has always belonged to the kingdom of Siam, until now that it has risen up against it, and does not obey it, but has rather placed itself in subjection to the King of Malacca. And so likewise in this kingdom of Siam, there is another lordship and country of Gentiles, in subjection to it, which is called Sara hangor,[303] in which there is much tin, which they carry to the city of Malacca as merchandise, and hence they carry it to all parts. The king and people of the kingdom of Ansyam, who are Gentiles, greatly honour their idols, and have many customs different from those of the other nations. They go naked from the waist upwards, and some wear small jackets of silk stuffs. The country is very well supplied with provisions, flesh of domestic and wild animals, and rice. They have many horses of a small breed, and much fruit of various qualities. The men are great hunters and sportsmen. In the interior of the country towards China, there is another kingdom of Gentiles which is in obedience to him, (the King of Siam) and there, when a relation or a friend dies, they eat him roasted before a great fire in the middle of a field, where they set up three poles stuck in the earth, and between them a chain with two hooks of iron, and they bring the body of the man who has died of illness or of any other death, and they hang him up there by the hams, roasting him, and his children and relations are there bewailing him, and after he is well roasted they take wine in cups, and they have knives with which they all cut from the body and eat of it, weeping all the while, and they drink their wine; and the nearest relations begin first to eat, and in this manner they finish eating him, and leave only the bones, which they burn afterwards; and they say that they give such a burial to their relations on account of their being of their own flesh, and that they cannot be any where better buried than in their bodies.[304] And in all the kingdom of Ansyam they burn the dead bodies, because that is the custom of all the Gentile countries. KINGDOM AND CITY OF MALACCA. The said kingdom of Ansyane throws out a great point of land into the sea,[305] which makes there a cape, where the sea returns again towards China to the north; in this promontory is a small kingdom in which there is a large city called Malaca; and in former times it belonged to the kingdom of Ansyam. And the Moors of the town and foreign Moors, established their trade in this city, in which they increased so much in wealth, that they revolted with the country and caused the neighbouring inhabitants to turn Moors, and they set up a Moorish king over them, without paying further obedience to the said King of Ansyam. Many Moorish merchants reside in it, and also Gentiles, particularly Chetis, who are natives of Cholmendel: and they are all very rich and have many large ships, which they call jungos. They deal in all sorts of goods in different parts, and many other Moorish and Gentile merchants flock thither from other countries to trade; some in ships of two masts from China and other places, and they bring thither much silk in skeins,[306] many porcelain vases, damasks, brocades, satins of many colours, they deal in musk, rhubarb, coloured silks, much iron, saltpetre, fine silver, many pearls and seed pearl, chests, painted fans, and other toys, pepper, wormwood,[307] Cambay stuffs, scarlet cloths, saffron, coral polished and rough, many stuffs of Palecate, of coloured cotton, others white from Bengal, vermilion, quicksilver, opium and other merchandise, and drugs from Cambay; amongst which there is a drug which we do not possess and which they call puchô, and another called cachô, and another called magican, which are gall nuts, which they bring from the Levant to Cambay, by way of Mekkah, and they are worth a great deal in China and Java. There also come thither many ships from Java, which have four masts, very different from ours, and of very thick wood. When these become old they fish[308] them with other new planks, and in this manner they carry three or four coverings of planking one above the other; and the sails are of woven osiers,[309] and the cordage of the same. These bring much rice, meat of cows, sheep, pigs and deer, dried and salted, many chickens, garlic and onions. They also bring thither many weapons for sale, that is to say, lances, daggers and swords, worked with inlaid metal and of very good steel, they bring likewise cubebs and a yellow die which they call cazunba, and gold which is produced in Java. They bring their wives and children in these ships, and there are some mariners whose wives and children never leave the ship to go on shore, nor have any other dwelling, but there are born and die. From this place many ships sail to the Molucca Islands, which will be mentioned further on, to ship cloves, and they carry there as merchandise Cambay cloths, and all sorts of cottons, silks, and other stuffs of Palacate and Bangala, quicksilver, tin, copper unwrought and wrought into bells, and in a coin which they bring from China, like ceutis[310] of Portugal, pierced in the middle, pepper, porcelain, garlic and onions, with other things and drugs from Cambay; and they traffic much in them. So they navigate in these ships to other islands which are scattered over all the sea, that is to say, to Timor, whence they bring white sandal, which the Indians make great use of; and they carry to them iron, hatchets, knives, swords, cloths of Palacate and Cambay, copper, quicksilver, vermilion, tin and lead, little beads from Cambay of all sorts. And in exchange for these things they carry away the before named sandal, honey, wax, slaves; and at the Isles of Bandam they ship nutmeg and mace. These islands supply themselves with goods from Cambay. These ships also fetch pepper from Samatra, silk in skeins, benjuy, and fine gold; and from other islands they fetch camphor and aloes wood; and they also navigate to Tanasery, Peygu, Bengala, Palecate, Cholmender, Malabar, Cambay, and Aden, with all kinds of goods, so that this city of Malaca is the richest trading port and possesses the most valuable merchandise, and most numerous shipping and extensive traffic, that is known in all the world. And it has got such a quantity of gold that the great merchants do not estimate their property, nor reckon otherwise than by bahars of gold, which are four quintals each bahar. There are merchants among them who will take up singly three or four ships laden with very valuable goods, and will supply them with cargo from their own property. They are very well made men, and likewise the women, they are of a brown colour, and go bare from the waist upwards, and from that downwards cover themselves with silk and cotton cloths, and they wear short jackets half way down the thigh of scarlet cloth, and silk, cotton or brocade stuffs; and they are girt with belts, and carry daggers in their waists wrought with rich inlaid work, these they call querix.[311] And the women dress in wraps of silk stuffs, and short shirts much adorned with gold and jewellery, and have long beautiful hair. These people have many mosques, and when they die they bury their bodies. Their children inherit from them. They live in large houses, and have their gardens and orchards, and pools of water outside the city for their recreation. They have got many slaves who are married with wives and children. These slaves live separately and serve them when they have need of them. These Moors who are named Malayos are very polished people, and gentlemen, musical, gallant, and well proportioned. The Chety merchants from Cholmendel are for the most part stout and corpulent. They also go bare from the waist upwards. In this city there are also many people from Java dwelling in it; they are small stout men, whose breasts and faces are long and ill formed. They are Moors and go bare from the waist upwards, and wear cloths ill put on from the waist downwards. They wear nothing on their heads, and their hair is curled with art, and some of them are shaved. They are ingenious and subtle in all their work, and very cunning and treacherous, and of little truth, daring in all mischief, and unto death. They have very good arms and fight valiantly. There are some of them who if they fall ill of any severe illness, vow to God that if they remain in health they will of their own accord seek another more honourable death for his service,[312] and as soon as they get well they take a dagger in their hands and go out into the streets and kill as many persons as they meet, both men, women and children, in such wise that they go like mad dogs, killing until they are killed. These are called amuco. And as soon as they see them begin this work, they cry out saying, amuco, amuco,[313] in order that people may take care of themselves, and they kill them with dagger and spear thrusts. Many of these Javans live in this city with wives and children and property. This city possesses very good water and fruit, and is very healthy. Other provisions are brought from outside. The King of Malaca has got much treasure, and a large revenue from the duties which he collects. To him the lord of Pam made himself tributary, who was a ruler in the kingdom of Ansyam, and he raised himself up against it. In this country of Pam much gold of inferior quality is found. This country of Malaca was discovered by Diego Lopez de Sequeyra, a Portuguese gentleman, and after it was discovered the Moors of the country took certain Portuguese and merchandise by stratagem,[314] and killed some, on account of which Alfonso de Alborquerque, Captain General of the King of Portugal in the Indies, moved his fleet, and went against Malaca to avenge this event, and he attacked and took it by assault, and drove out the King of Malaca, notwithstanding that the Moors made a vigorous defence with artillery, spears, arms, guns, and arrows, and with elephants armed with wooden castles, in which were good soldiers with their weapons. So that the merchants and traders of this city surrendered into subjection to the King of Portugal, without any vexations being done to them. And the Portuguese immediately built a handsome fortress in this city, which entirely commands the town and all its trade, as it was before. Much spoil was taken in this city, and great wealth from those who had fled. The ruler of Pam, the lord of a gold mine, on knowing that Malaca was in subjection to the King of Portugal, at once sent an ambassador to this Captain Major General, offering obedience to the King of Portugal. ARCHIPELAGO OF MALACA. In front of the before named island of Samatra across the Gulf of the Ganges, are five or six small islands, which have very good water and ports for ships, they are inhabited by Gentiles, poor people, they are called Niconbar,[315] and they find in them very good amber, which they carry thence to Malaca and other parts. ISLAND OF SAMATRA. Having passed these islands near the Cape of Malaca, about twenty leagues to the south[316] there is a large and very beautiful island which is called Samatara,[317] which has in circumference seven hundred leagues reckoned by the Moors, who have sailed all round it: and it has many seaports and kingdoms of Moors and Gentiles. The Moors live in the seaports, and the Gentiles in the interior of the country. The principal kingdom of the Moors is called Pedir.[318] Much very good pepper grows in it, which is not so strong or so fine as that of Malabar. Much silk is also grown there, but not so good as the silk of China. Another kingdom is called Birahem,[319] and another Paser,[320] and another Campar,[321] another Andraguide,[322] another Manancabo,[323] where much fine gold is collected, which is taken thence to Malaca, most of it in dust; and another kingdom called Haru, of Gentiles, who eat human flesh, and any person whom they can catch, they eat him without any mercy. And it also contains many other kingdoms of Gentiles in the interior of the country. In some parts of this island there grows much benjuy, pepper, and long pepper, camphor, and some ginger, and wax. Many ships sail to this island for these goods. Cloths and goods from Cambay are worth a good deal in it, and so also coral, quicksilver, rose-water, dried fish from Maldiu. These Moors are very disloyal, and often kill their kings and set up others who are more powerful. The King of Portugal has a fortress in this island, and trade. And having passed Samatara towards Java there is the island of Sunda,[324] in which there is much good pepper, and it has a king over it, who, they say, desires to serve the King of Portugal. They ship thence many slaves for China. JAVA MAJOR. Further on than this said island towards the western quarter and the south[325] there are many islands small and great, amongst which there is one very large which they call Java the Great;[326] it is one hundred and twenty leagues distant from the Cape of Malaca to the south south east, and it is inhabited by many Gentiles and Moors. And in its seaports there are many towns and villages and large settlements of Moors, with Moorish kings. But they are all obedient to the king of the island, who is a Gentile, and lives in the interior of the country, and is a great lord called Patevdara,[327] and sometimes some rebel against him, and afterwards he again subjugates them. Some of these Moorish rulers and inhabitants of Java desire to serve the King of Portugal, and others are ill affected towards him. They say that this island is the most abundant country in the world. There is in it much good rice, and various meats of all kinds, domestic and wild, they make in this place much dried and salted flesh for many parts. There grows in this island pepper, cinnamon, ginger, bamboos, cubebs, and gold. Its inhabitants are short and stout in stature with broad faces.[328] Most of them go bare from the waist upwards, others wear silk clothes down to the middle of the thigh, and their beards thin;[329] the hair shaven on the top and curled upwards, they wear nothing on their heads, and say that nothing must be on their heads, nor anything whatever, and if any person ware to put his hand upon their head they would kill him: and they do not build houses with stories, in order that they may not walk over each other's heads. They are very proud men, liars and treacherous; very ingenious as carpenters and masons, and very good artillerymen. They make in this country many guns and long muskets, and many other fireworks. And in all other parts they are much esteemed for this and as artillerymen. They have got many ships and great navigation, and many rowing galleys. They are great corsairs and mariners, and they make many kinds of arms of good temper and of good steel, wrought with very pretty inlaid work of gold and ivory: they are great sorcerers and necromancers, and they make arms in certain places and hours, and they say that those cannot die by steel who wear them, and that they kill by drawing blood: and others of which they say that those who bear them cannot be conquered. And they say that there are arms which they employ eight or ten years to complete, watching for places, hours and minutes, disposed for these effects: and the kings prize and take great care of these. They are great sportsmen and hunters, they have plenty of horses and many good hunting dogs, and birds of prey for the chase. When they go to hunt they take their wives with them in handsome carts with canopies and curtains; and the kings and great lords also go in those carts, which are drawn by horses when they go hunting. The ladies are white and very pretty in figure and of pleasing countenances though rather long; they sing well, are polished in manner, and are very industrious workwomen. JAVA MINOR. Further out to sea five leagues to the east of the said island of Java Major is another island also very well supplied with provisions of all kinds, inhabited by Gentiles, with a Gentile king, and a language of its own. A few Moors subjects of the Gentile king live in the seaports. This island is called amongst them Sumbava, and the Moors, Arabs, and Persians call it Java Minor.[330] And after passing the said island there is another small island called Oçare, and a fire always burns in the centre of it. They go much on horseback and are hunters, and the women take much care of the flocks. TIMOR. Having passed these islands of Java Major and Minor, forty-two leagues distant from Java Minor to the east south-east there are many other islands great and small, inhabited by Gentiles and by a few Moors, amongst which there is an island called Timor,[331] which has a Gentile king, and a language of its own. Much white sandal grows there, and those who go for it carry as goods to this island iron hatchets, large and small, knives and swords, stuffs from Cambay and Palecate, porcelain, small beads of all kinds, tin, quicksilver and lead. They also ship in this island honey, wax, slaves, and some silver which is found in these islands. ISLANDS OF BANDAN. Fifteen leagues more to the north-north-west there are five other islands almost close together, which make a pool between them into which ships enter. And they enter there on two sides, and these are called the Bandan Islands,[332] they are inhabited by Moors and Gentiles, and in three of them there grows much nutmeg and mace upon trees like laurels, whose fruit is the nutmeg, and upon the nutmeg is the mace like a flower, and above this there is another thick rind: and in these islands one quintal of mace is worth as much as seven of nutmeg, for there is such a quantity of the nutmeg that they burn it, so that it is almost worth nothing. And to purchase this mace and nutmeg the merchants carry the following goods: cotton and silk stuffs of all kinds from Cambay, drugs from Guzerat, copper, quicksilver, lead and tin; and some coloured caps[333] with long pile, which they bring from the Levant, and bells from Java which are worth each one of the large ones twenty bahars of mace, and each bahar is four quintals. From this island of Bandam to Maluco, which is towards the north, there are many islands inhabited and uninhabited, in these they keep as treasure very large metal bells; ivory, Cambay silk stuffs which they call patolas, and very fine porcelain. There is no king in these islands, nor do they obey any one: on some occasions they obey the King of Maluco. DANDON.[334] A hundred leagues further on to the north-east towards Maluco, there are many other islands peopled by Gentiles, they are called the Dandon islands, each one has a king and a language of its own. In these islands there are many rowing boats which go out to rob one another, and make prisoners, whom they kill, or ransom for Cambay stuffs, which are highly valued amongst them; and each man labours to obtain such a quantity of these cloths that when placed upon the ground the bundle would rise to the height of a man's stature; and those who have as much as that consider themselves as free, since the ransom of those who are captured is not greater than this quantity. ISLANDS OF MALUCO, WHICH ARE FIVE. Beyond these islands twenty-five leagues towards the north-east there are five islands one before the other, which are called the islands of Maluco,[335] in which all the cloves grow, and they are of Gentiles and Moors. Their kings are Moors, and the first of them is called Bachan, the second Maquian, which contains a very good harbour, the third is called Motil, the fourth Tidory, and the fifth Ternaty,[336] in which there is a Moorish king who is called Sultan Benarra Sorala. He was king of all these islands of cloves, and now all the four have revolted, and have each got a king of their own. The hills in these five islands are all of cloves, which grow on trees like laurel, which has its leaf like that of the arbutus, and it grows like the orange flower, which in the beginning is green and then turns white, and when it is ripe it turns coloured, and then they gather it by hand, the people going amongst the trees, and they put it to dry in the sun, where it turns brown, and if there is no sun they dry it with the smoke, and after it is very dry they sprinkle it with salt water for it not to crumble, and that it may preserve its virtue. And there are such quantities of these cloves that they never can finish gathering them, so that they let much of it be lost. And the trees from which they do not gather it for three years, after that become wild, so that their cloves are worth nothing. Every year the people of Malaca and Java come to these islands to ship cloves, and they bring as merchandise, quicksilver, vermilion, stuffs from Cambay, Bengal and Palecate, drugs from Cambay, some pepper, porcelain, large metal bells which are made in Java, dishes of copper and tin. The cloves are worth very little in these islands, so as to be almost for nothing. This King of Maluco is a Moor, and almost a Gentile; he has a Moorish wife, and three or four hundred Gentile damsels whom he keeps in his house, and he has of many of them Gentile sons and daughters, and only the children of the Moorish women become Moors. He is served by humpbacked women, whom he orders to have their spines bent from childhood, for state and show; and he may have eighty or a hundred of these, who always go with him and serve him as pages; some give him betel, others carry his sword, and they render all other services. In these islands there are many coloured parrots, of very splendid colours; they are tame, and the Moors call them nure,[337] and they are much valued amongst them. ISLAND OF CELEBE.[338] Having passed these islands of Maluco to the west of Motil and Machian, at a distance of a hundred and thirty leagues, there are other islands to the west, from which sometimes there come white people, naked from the waist upwards, and they wear cloths round them made of straw, and have a language of their own. They bring some ill made boats to ship cloves in the before mentioned islands, and copper, tin and Cambay stuffs. They bring for sale very long and broad swords of one edge and other manufactures of iron,[339] and much gold. These people eat human flesh, and if the King of Maluco has any person to execute they beg for him to eat him, just as one would ask for a pig, and the islands from whence they come are called Celebe.[340] BANGAYA.[341] At no great distance from this island to the west-south-west, at thirty-six leagues off, is another island of Gentiles which has a Gentile king over it. The inhabitants of it are accustomed to saw off their teeth at the roots of the gums. It is called Bangaya,[342] there is much iron in it, which they carry to all parts. SOLOR. Seventy-five leagues further on to the north-east in the direction of China is a very large island and well supplied with various provisions, which is called Solor,[343] it is inhabited by Gentiles, almost white men, and well made; they have a Gentile king and a language of their own. In this island there is much gold, which is found in the earth; and all round this island the Moors gather much seed pearl and fine pearls of perfect colour and not round. BORNEY. Beyond this island to the north more towards China is another island also very well supplied with provisions, inhabited by Gentiles, who have a Gentile king and a language of their own. In this island much camphor for eating is gathered, and the Indians value it highly. It is worth its weight in silver, and some of it even more. They bring it made into powder in tubes of cane; and it is worth a great deal in Narsinga, Malabar, and Decan.[344] This island is called Borney.[345] CHAMPA. Having passed this island thirty leagues to the west towards the country of Ansiam and China, there is another great island of Gentiles, which is called Champa,[346] which has a king and a language of its own; and many elephants which are bred there, and they carry them to many places. There also grows in it aloes wood which the Indians call eagle, and calambuco; it must be said that the very fine calambuco and the other eagle wood is worth at Calicut a thousand maravedis the pound.[347] Between these islands there are many other islands inhabited by gentiles, and others uninhabited amongst which there is one in which there are many diamonds which the people of the country collect and export for sale to many parts but they are not such nor so fine as those of Narsynga. CHINA. Leaving these islands which are many, almost unnumbered, of all of which the names are not known; and they are towards the north and in the direction of China, and there is not much information about them; it is only known that after passing the kingdom of Ansyam and other kingdoms, there is the kingdom of China, which they say is a very extensive dominion, both along the coast of the sea and in the interior of the country; it is a country of Gentiles, and it possesses many islands in the sea also inhabited by Gentiles, subject to it, in which the King of China keeps his governors and officers of his appointment. This king always resides in the interior of the country in very large and good cities. No foreigner enters within the kingdom, they can only trade in the sea ports, and in the islands; and if any ambassador from another kingdom comes to it by sea, he first gives information of it in order that he may enter, and afterwards the king bids him be conducted to where he is staying. The inhabitants of the country are white men, tall, well-made and gentlemen; and so likewise the women. They have got only one defect, that their eyes are very small, and on their chins they have three or four hairs and no more; the smaller their eyes are, so much the prettier they think them; and the same as regards the women. They are very smartly dressed, clothed in silk and cotton and woollen stuffs, and their costumes are like those of Germans; they are shod with soft leather boots[348] and shoes, like the people of a cold country. They have a language of their own, and the tone of it is like that of Germans. They eat on high tables like ourselves, with their napkins, and for as many as may be there to eat, they set before each one a plate, a small roll, and a knife, and a silver cup; they do not touch the food which they are going to eat with their hands, but eat it with little pinchers of silver or wood, and they hold in their left hand the dish or porcelain in which they eat, brought very close to the mouth, and with those pinchers they eat very quickly. They prepare various kinds of viands, and eat all meats, and wheaten bread. They drink several kinds of wine, and many times during their meals. They also eat the flesh of dogs which they hold to be good meat. They are men of truth and[349] good gentlemen: they are great merchants of all sorts of goods. They make much porcelain in the country, and very good, which is a great article of commerce for all parts. They make them of sea snail shells well ground and with the whites and shells of eggs, and of other materials, of which they make a dough, which they put under the earth to ripen and mature itself, for a space of eighty or a hundred years, and they leave this mass as a treasure and inheritance, because as the time approaches for working it so it becomes more valuable, and in this way they leave it to their sons and grandsons;[350] and after the time has arrived they work it into vases of all patterns, and after they are made they enamel and paint them. There also grows and is produced in this country of China much very good silk, of which they make a great quantity of stuffs; that is to say, damasks of all colours, satins of several kinds, and brocade. There is much rhubarb in this country, and much musk, very fine silver, seed pearl, and pearls that are not very round. They also make many other very pretty gilded things in this country; that is to say, very rich chests and trays of gilt wood, salt dishes, fans, and other delicate works of ingenious men. They are also great navigators in very large ships which they call jungos, of two masts, of a different make from ours, the sails are of matting, and so also the cordage. There are great corsairs and robbers amongst those islands and ports of China. They go with all these goods to Malaca, where they also carry much iron, saltpetre and many other things, and for the return voyage they ship there Samatra and Malabar pepper, of which they use a great deal in China, and drugs of Cambay, much anfiam, which we call opium, wormwood, Levant gall nuts, saffron, coral wrought and unwrought, stuffs from Cambay, Palecate and Bengal, vermilion, quicksilver, scarlet cloth, and many other things. In this country of China the pepper is worth fifteen ducats the quintal, and more according to the quantity they carry there, which pepper they buy in Malaca at four ducats the quintal. Many of these Chinese take their wives and children continually in the ships in which they live without possessing any other dwelling. This China borders on Tartary towards the north, and it is a thousand leagues distant to the north-north-west from the Malucos. LEQUEOS. Opposite this country of China there are many islands in the sea, and beyond them at a hundred and seventy-five leagues to the east there is one very large which they say is the mainland, from whence there come each year to Malaca three or four ships like those of the Chinese, of white people whom they describe as great and wealthy merchants. They bring much gold in bars, silver, silk and many very rich silk stuffs, much very good wheat, beautiful porcelain and other merchandise. And they ship pepper and other things which they carry away. These islands are called Lequeos,[351] the people of Malaca say that they are better men, and greater and wealthier merchants, and better dressed and adorned, and more honourable than the Chinese. There is not much information about these people up to the present time, because they have not come to India since the King of Portugal possesses it.[352] FINIS. An end was made of transferring this book from its original in the Portuguese language, translated into Castilian language, in Vitoria, the Emperor and King of Spain residing there, on the first day of March, of the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-four years, by Min. Cinturion,[353] Ambassador of the Community of Genoa, with the interpretation of Diego Ribero, Portuguese, Cosmographer of His Majesty, and Master of the Sailing charts. ACCOUNT OF THE RUBIES, WHERE THEY GROW, OF THEIR VARIETY, AND OF HOW THEY ARE SOLD IN THE MALABAR COUNTRY. Firstly, the rubies grow in the third India, and are for the most part gathered in a river which is called Peygu, and these are the best and the finest, which the Malabars call nir puco. Those which are sold for the prices written below must be very good, without any blemish: and in order to know their fineness the Indians put the point of their tongue upon them, and that which is the coldest and hardest is best: and in order to see its purity they take it up with wax by the finest point, and so look at it by the light, by which they see any blemish which it may have got. They are found in very deep caves which there are amongst the mountains. And in this river and country of Peygu they clean them, but do not work them, for they take them to other parts to be worked, principally in Palecate and the country of Narsynga. In Calicut and the whole Malabar country, eight fine rubies of the weight of one fanam are worth ten fanaes[354] x fs. 10 Four rubies of the said weight in perfection xx fanaes xx fs. 20 Two weighing one fanam xl fs. 40 One weighing one fanam l fs. 50 One weighing three quarters of a fanam xxx fs. 30 One weighing a fanam and a quarter lxxv fs. 75 One weighing a fanam and a half is worth c fs. 100 One which should weigh a fanam and three quarters cl fs. 150 A ruby which weighs two fanaes is worth cc fs. 200 One which should weigh two fanoes and a quarter ccl fs. 250 One of two and a half ccc fs. 300 One of two and three quarters and a half cccc fs. 400 One of three fanoes ccccl fs. 450 One of three fanoes and a quarter d fs. 500 One of three and a half dl fs. 550 One of three and three quarters dc fs. 600 One of three fanoes three quarters and a half dcxxx fs. 630 One of four fanoes dclx fs. 660 One of four fanoes and a quarter dcc fs. 700 One of four fanoes and a half dcccc fs. 900 One of five fanoes IU fs. 1,000 One of five fanoes and a half IUCC fs. 1,200 One of six fanoes IUd fs. 1,500 They are usually worth these prices if they are perfect, and those which should not be perfect, or may have any spots, or have not got a good colour are worth much less, according to the choice of the buyer. A fanam weighs something more than two carats of our parts, and eleven fanoes and a quarter are a mitigal,[355] and six mitigals and a half make an ounce, and each fanan is worth here a real of silver.[356] ACCOUNT OF THE SPINEL RUBIES. There is another kind of rubies which we call spinel rubies, and the Indians call them carapuch, which are produced in the same country of Peygu, where the fine rubies grow, and they find them in the mountains near the surface of the ground. These are not so fine nor of so bright a colour as the rubies, but they have rather the colour of scarlet: and those which are perfect in colour and pure, are worth half less than the rubies. ACCOUNT OF OTHER RUBIES OF CEYLON. In the second India there is an island called Ceylan, where many rubies are found, which the Indians call manica, most of these do not reach the perfection of the others in colour, because they are red, and pale, and ruddy.[357] They are very hard and very cold, and, those which are found in all their perfection of colour are very highly valued amongst them. And the king of that island has them found, and keeps the perfect ones for himself, which he sells with his own hand: and when the lapidaries clean them if they find one very white they put it by his orders into the fire for a certain number of hours, and if it endures the fire and comes out sound it remains of a brighter colour. Such a stone is of great value, and those of this kind which the King of Narsynga can get into his hands, he orders them to be bored with a very fine hole on the underneath side so that the hole reaches to the centre, and they do not pass it, because the stone can no longer leave the kingdom, and that it may be known that it has been tried in the fire. And so also these are worth more than those of Peygu. Their prices are the following if they are perfect in colour and purity:-- One which weighs a carat, which is half a fanam, is worth in Calicut thirty fanoes xxx fs. 30 One of two carats lxxv fs. 75[358] One of three carats cl fs. 150 One of three carats and a half cc fs. 200 One of four carats ccc fs. 300 One of four carats and a half cccl fs. 350 One of five carats cccc fs. 400 One of five carats and a half ccccl fs. 450 One of six carats dxxx fs. 530 One of six carats and a half dlx fs. 560 One of seven carats dcxxx fs. 630 One of seven carats and a half dcclx fs. 760 One of eight carats very good and tried in the fire is worth dccc fs. 800 Such a one of eight carats and a half dcccc fs. 900 Such a one of nine carats IUC fs. 1,100 Such a one of ten carats IUCCC fs. 1,300 One of eleven carats of this kind IUDC fs. 1,600 One of twelve carats nU fs. 2,000 One of fourteen carats mU fs. 3,000 One of sixteen carats VIU fs. 6,000 ACCOUNT OF THE BALASSES, WHERE THEY GROW AND WHAT THEY ARE WORTH IN CALICUT. These balasses are of the class of rubies but not so strong as them, their colour is rosy and some are almost white, they are found in Balaxayo[359] which is a kingdom of the mainland near Peygu and Bengal. The Moors bring them out of that country to all parts; that is to say, the good and picked ones, cut or uncut, they clean and work them in Calicut, and they are sold for the prices of spinel rubies. Those which are not good, and are bored, are bought by the Moors of Mekkah and Aden for the whole of Arabia, where they are accustomed to take them. ACCOUNT OF THE DIAMONDS OF THE OLD MINE. These diamonds are gathered in the first India in a kingdom of Moors called Decan, and they carry them thence to all parts. There are other diamonds which are not so good; some are white and are said to be of the new mine which is in the kingdom of Narsynga; these are worth less by a third in Calicut and the country of Malabar, than those of the old mine; and they are worked in the kingdom of Narsynga itself. And those of the old mine are not worked in India. They likewise make false diamonds in India with white rubies, topazes and sapphires, which look like fine gems and these are found in Ceylon, and they only differ from diamonds in the colour which they have by nature. And some of these stones are found half of which have the colour of the ruby and the other of the colour of the sapphire, and others of the colour of the topaze, and some of them have got all these colours mixed. They bore these stones with two or three very fine threads through them, and they remain as cats' eyes. And with the stones which turn out white they make a great quantity of small diamonds which cannot be distinguished from the other genuine ones, except by the touch[360] and by those who have much acquaintance with them. Eight fine diamonds which weigh a manjar[361] are worth xxv or xxx fs. 30 Six weighing one manjar xl fs. 40 Four weighing one manjar lx fs. 60 Two weighing one manjar lxxx fs. 80 One weighing one manjar c fs. 100 One weighing a manjar and a quarter clxv fs. 165 One of one and a half clxxx fs. 180 One of one and three quarters ccxx fs. 220 One of one and three quarters and a half cclx fs. 260 One of two manjars cccxx fs. 320 One of two and a quarter ccclx fs. 360 One of two and a half ccclxxx fs. 380 One of two and three quarters if in full perfection ccccxx fs. 420 One of this said perfection of three manjars ccccl fs. 450 One of three manjars and a half cccclxxx fs. 480 One of four manjars dl fs. 550 One of five manjars dccl fs. 750 One of six manjars dcccc fs. 900 One of seven manjars IUCC fs. 1,200 One of eight manjars IUCCCC fs. 1,400 These go on increasing in price in proportion, and each manjar weighs two taras and two-thirds, and two taras make a carat even weight, and four taras weigh a fanam. ACCOUNT OF THE SAPPHIRES. The best and most genuine sapphires are found in Ceylon, they are very strong and fine, and those which are in all perfection, and purity, and of a fine blue colour, are worth the following prices. One which weighs a carat two fanaes ii fs. 2 One weighing two vi fs. 6 One weighing three carats x fs. 10 One weighing four carats xv fs. 15 One weighing five carats xviii fs. 18 A weight of six xxv fs. 25 One of seven xxxv fs. 35 One of eight carats l fs. 50 One of nine lxv fs. 65 One of ten carats lxxv fs. 75 A sapphire weighing eleven carats is worth xc. fs. 90 One of twelve cxx fs. 120 One perfect in purity and colour weighing thirteen carats cxxxv fs. 135 One of fourteen carats clx fs. 160 One of sixteen two hundred fanoes cc fs. 200 One of eighteen ccl fs. 250 One of twenty ccc fs. 300 One weighing a mitical which is xi fanams and a quarter cccl fs. 350 There is also in Ceylam another kind of sapphires, which are not so strong, which they call quirin genilam,[362] and they are of a darker colour. These are worth much less, however good they may be, for one of the above-mentioned is worth as much as thirteen of these. In the kingdom of Narsynga in a mountain above Bancanor and Mangalor there is another kind of sapphires softer and inferior in colour, which they call cringanilan;[362] they are somewhat whitish; these are worth very little, so much so that the most perfect of them which weighs twenty carats will not be worth a ducat. Their colour is also somewhat yellow. There is another sort of sapphires which are found on the sea beach of the kingdom of Calicut in a place called Capucad,[363] the Indians call these carahatonilam, they are very blue and cloudy and do not glitter, except setting them in the light.[364] They are soft and break like glass. An opinion is held by some who say that in former times there was by the sea of this Capurad the house of a king and that its windows were of blue glass, and that the sea having covered it over the pieces of glass are thrown up ashore; but they are very large, and on the other hand they seem to be glass. These are worth very little among them. ACCOUNT OF THE TOPAZES AND OF THEIR PRICES IN CALICUT. The natural topazes are found in Ceylon which the Indians call pur ceraga, it is very hard stone and very cold and heavy like the ruby and sapphire, because all three are of one kind. Its perfect colour is yellow like beaten gold, and when their colour is perfect and pure, whether they be great or small, in Calicut they are worth their weight in fine gold, and this is their price usually; and if the colour is not so perfect they are worth their weight in gold of fanams which is less by half, and if it is almost white they are worth much less, and they make small diamonds of them. ACCOUNT OF THE TURQUOISES, AND OF THEIR PRICES IN MALABAR. The true turquoises are found in Niexer[365] and Quirimane,[366] country of Sheikh Ismail, in mines and dry ground,[367] and they are found upon black stones, and the Moors detach them there in small pieces, and bring them thence to Ormuz, whence they are sent out to many countries by sea. The Indians call them peyrosa. It is a soft stone and of little weight, and not very cold; and in order to know that it is good and true, by day it will seem to you of a blue colour, and at night by candle light it turns green; and those which are not so perfect, do not change from one appearance. If this stone is pure and of a fine colour, underneath at its base it will have brown stone upon which it grew, and if any little vein or point were to come out above the black stone itself, then it is known as very genuine indeed, and of greater value, because it is a sign of being a true turquoise, and for greater certainty putting upon it a little virgin lime, white and moistened like ointment, the lime will appear coloured. And when they have this perfection they are worth the following prices:-- If the turquoise is of the said perfection and weighs a carat, it will be worth in the Malabar country xv fs. 15 One of two carats xl fs. 40 One of four carats xc fs. 90 One of six carats cl fs. 150 One of eight carats cc fs. 200 One of ten carats ccc fs. 300 One of twelve carats ccccl fs. 450 One of xiiij carats dl fs. 550 They take no account of the larger ones, from their being light pieces of much bulk. The Moors and Guzuratys wear the large ones. ACCOUNT OF THE HYACINTHS. The hyacinths are produced in Ceylan, and are soft yellow stones, and those which are of a stronger colour are the best; most of them have within some grains which impair their beauty, and those which have not got them, and are pure, in perfection of this colour, are worth little in Calicut where they arrange them; one which weighs a fanam is not worth more than three fanams, and one of xviij fanams is not worth more than xvi fanams. There are also other gems, cat's eyes, chrysoliths, and amethists, of which no other distinction is made on account of their being of little value, and so also with regard to the jagonzas.[368] ACCOUNT OF THE EMERALDS. The emeralds are produced in the country of Babilonia, which the Indians call Maredeygua;[369] and they likewise grow in many other parts; they are green stones of a good colour and pretty; they are light and soft, and many counterfeits are made of them which resemble them, but looking at them in the light they show the counterfeit and some little globules such as all glass makes; and if they were genuine they would not show any. But the sight of them would give great satisfaction and the good ones shew rays inside them like of the sun, and being touched by a touchstone leaves on it a copper colour. And the real emerald is such that they are worth the same as diamonds in Calicut, and something more, not according to the weight but the size, because the diamond is much heavier than it. There are likewise other emeralds which are green stones, and these are not so much valued, but the Indians make use of them in jewellery. These do not leave a copper colour on the touchstone.[370] SUMMARY ACCOUNT OF THE SPICES, WHERE THEY GROW, AND WHAT THEY ARE WORTH IN CALICUT, AND WHERE THEY ARE EXPORTED TO. Pepper grows in all Malabar, firstly in the kingdom of Calicut, and there it is worth from two hundred to two hundred and thirty fanoes the bahal, which weighs four quintals of the old weight of Portugal at which all spice is sold in Lisbon: and they pay twelve fanoes per bahar duty for taking it out of the country to the King of Calicut; and those who buy it are used to take it to Cambay, Persia, Aden, Mekkah, from whence they also transport it to Cayro, and thence to Alexandria. And now they give it to the King of Portugal at the rate of iiijulx (4,060)[371] the bahar, with the duties, which are cxciij fanoes (193) and 1/4, on account of so great a variety of merchants no longer resorting there to buy it, and on account of the agreement which the King of Portugal made with the kings and Moors and merchants of the country of Malabar. Much pepper also grows in Sumatra which is an island near Malaca, and it is larger and better looking than that of the Malabar country: but this pepper is not so fine nor so strong as that. This pepper is carried to Bengal and China and Java, and some of it is carried to Mekkah without the knowledge of the Portuguese, who do not allow it to be taken. It is worth 400 to 600 maravedis the quintal of Portugal, in this case of the new weight. And between the new and the old one in Portugal there is a different of two ounces per pound. ACCOUNT OF THE CLOVES. The cloves grow in an island beyond Java called Maluco, and from thence they bring it to Malacca, and from there to Calicut and all the Malabar country. Each bahar is worth in Calicut 500 and 600 fanoes, and if it is clean of husks and sticks, at seven hundred fanoes, and xviiij fanoes per bahar are paid as export duty. At Maluco where it grows it is worth from one to two ducats the bahar; according to the multitude of buyers who go for it. In Malacca the bahar of these cloves is worth as much as fourteen ducats the bahar according to the demand of the merchants. CINNAMON. Good cinnamon grows in the island of Ceylam, and in the county of Malabar there grows a very inferior quality; the good sort is worth little in Ceylam, and in Calicut it is worth three hundred fanoes the bahar, new and very choice. BELEDYN GINGER. Beledyn[372] ginger grows at a distance of two or three leagues all round the city of Calicut, and the bahar is worth lx[373] fanoes, and sometimes fifty, they bring it to the city for sale, from the mountains and estates. The Indian merchants buy it in detail and collect it together, and then in the season for loading ships they sell it to the Moors at prices from ninety to a hundred and ten fanoes; its weight is the greater weight.[374] ELY GINGER. The Ely ginger grows in the mountain Dely as far as Cananor, and is smaller and not so white, nor so good. The bahar in Cananor is worth forty fanoes, and six fanoes duty is paid per bahar, and it is sold without being packed.[375] GREEN GINGER FOR CONSERVES. In Bengal there is also much ginger of the country and there they make with it a large quantity of preserves with sugar, very well made; and they bring it in Martaban jars to sell at Malabar, and the farazola, which is twenty-two pounds, is worth xiiij and xv or xv; fanoes. And that which is now preserved with sugar in Calicut is worth xxv fanoes the farazola on account of sugar being dear there. Green ginger for making preserves is worth three quarters of a fanam the farazola[376] in Calicut. ACCOUNT OF THE DRUGS AND SPICES IN CALICUT AND ALL THE MALABAR COUNTRY. Lac of Martaban, very good, is worth the farazola, which is twenty-two pounds and six ounces and a half of Portugal, of xvj ounces to the pound xviij fanoes 18 Lac of the country, the farazola xij fs. 12 Coarse camphor in loaves of lxx to eighty fanoes the farazola lxxx fs. 80 Very good borax[377] in large pieces at xxx, xl, or l fs. the farazola xl fs. 40 Camphor for anointing the idols at the rate of one fanam and a half the mitical, six and a half of which make an ounce i fm. & a half 1-1/2 Camphor for eating and for the eyes at iij fs. the mitical iij fs. 3 Eagle wood at cccl and cccc fs. the farazola ccclxxv fs. 375 Genuine aloe-wood, and very choice black and heavy is worth i fs. the farazola iu fs. 1,000 Musk in powder of good quality, the ounce xxxvi fs. xxxvi fs. 36 Benjuy each farazola lx and the very good lxx fs. lxv fs. 65 Fresh tamarinds at iij fs. the farazola iij fs. 3 Sweet flag[378] the farazola xij fs. 12 Indigo, coarse and heavy, which contains sand, seventeen to twenty-two fs. the farazola xx fs. 20 Encienzo the best when in grain is worth v fs. 5 Encienzo[379] in paste and inferior is worth iij fs. 3 Very good amber is worth ij to iij fs. the mitical iij fs. 3 Mirobolans in sugar conserve are worth from sixteen to xxv fs. the farazola xx fs. 20 Coloured sandal v and vi fs. the farazola vi fs. 6 Spikenard, fresh and good, from xxx to xl fs. the fa. xl fs. 40 White sandal, and of a lemon colour xl to lx fs. the farazola, it grows in an island called Timor 1 fs. 50 Nutmeg x and xi fs. the farazola, it comes from Bandam, where the bahar is worth viij or x fs. xi fs. 11 Mace from xxv to xxx fs. the farazola, this also comes from Bandan, where it is worth 1 fs. the bahar. xxx fs. 30 Good herb lonbreguera[380] at xv fs. the farazola xv fs. 15 Turbiti,[381] at xiij fs. the farazola xiij fanoes 13 Zerumba is worth the farazola ij fs. 2 Zedoary is worth the farazola i fm. 1 Serapine gum[382] is worth the farazola xx fs. 20 Socotra aloes are worth the farazola viij fs. 8 Cardamums in grain at xx fs. xx fs. 20 Rhubarb, there is much of it in the Malabar country, and what comes from China by Malaca is worth cccc to d fs. the farazola ccccl 450 Mirobolans, ynblicos, are worth, the farazola ij fs. 2 Mirobolans, belericos, are worth, the farazola i fm. 1 Mirobolans of a citron colour and quebulos which are one kind ij fs. 2 Mirobolans yndos, which are from the same trees as the citron coloured, are worth iij fs. 3 Tutty,[383] the farazola xxx fs. 30 China cubela,[384] which grows in Java, is given there at a low price without weight or measure, by eye. Opium is worth the farazola in Calicut, and comes from Aden, where they make it, it is worth from cclxxx to cccxx fs. ccc fs. 300 Another opium which is prepared in Cambay is worth from cc to ccl fs. the farazola ccxxv fs. 225 ACCOUNT OF THE WEIGHTS OF PORTUGAL AND OF THE INDIES. IN PORTUGAL. A pound of the old weight contains xiiij oz. A pound of the new weight contains xvi oz., eight quintals of the old weight make seven quintals of the new, and each quintal of the new weight is of cxxviij pounds of xv oz., each old quintal is three quarters and a half of a new quintal, and is of cxxviij pounds of xiiij oz. each. INDIES. A farazola is xxij pounds of xvi oz. and vi oz. 2/7 more. Twenty farazolas are one bahar. One bahar is four old quintals of Portugal.[385] All spices and drugs and anything which comes from India is sold in Portugal by old weight, at present all the rest[386] is sold by new weight. VOYAGE WHICH JUAN SERANO MADE WHEN HE FLED FROM MALACA, WITH THREE PORTUGUESE AND CRISTOVAL DE MORALES OF SEVILLE, IN A CARAVEL WHICH HE STOLE IN MALACA, IN WHICH HE PUT CERTAIN MALAY MARINERS, NATIVES OF MALACA, ABOUT THE YEAR OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST ONE THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED AND TWELVE YEARS.[387] In the name of God: we left the city of Malaca in a caravel with five Malay mariners and pilots; the captain was Fran^{co} Serano, with three other Christians, who in all were nine; the mariners, natives of Malaca; the Christians, three Portuguese and a Castilian. In the year one thousand five hundred and twelve we sailed to the city of Pegu, and this city is on the mainland, and not very far from the sea, more on this side of Malaca, east (and) west[388] of the island Care ca Faya, north (and) south, with the Malacca channel and island Quendan, it must be said, the river higher up towards the east passes close by it: this river is very large and clear, by it enters and goes forth the merchandise, which many Christians traffic with; these are clothed in camlets and bocasi.[389] They believe in one only true God. They are natives of these parts these married Christians. They trade with Upper and Lower India. The king of this country is an idolater; he uses another dress, which reaches from his head to his feet, full of gold rings and jewellery and seed pearl. These stones are brought from the kingdom of Pegu itself, about three days' journey inland. In this country, when the husbands die, their wives burn themselves and throw themselves into the fire. This King of Pegu is continually at war with some other powerful king, who may be the King of Camboja, Siam, or Conchin Chinan. Leaving Pegu and the bar of the river and continuing to the south-west, inclining to the south south-west,[390] we arrive at the island Samatra, for so is named a city of this northern part, as I will relate further on, at a port which is very large and called Pedir. It is near the extremity of the island, placed more to the north, which looks to the north west.[391] The harbour of Pedir is very large and the city very populous, the best of the island, which the Malay pilots said had a circuit of two hundred and fifty leagues, according as we can collect from their day's journey and our day's run.[392] We gathered from the position of the country and sayings of the pilots and ancient geographers that this island is Traprobana, in which there are four idolatrous kings. The wives of the natives of the country burn themselves when their husbands are dead, as in Pegu and in Malabaria. The people are white; they have wide foreheads, the eyes greyish and round, the hair long, the nose flat; they are small in stature. Much silk is produced in this island, and grows of itself on the mountains, in which there are many trees of storax and benjuy some way inland; and if it is not brought so much hither, the reason is that they use it there, for they all anoint themselves: many various kinds of lignum aloes grow in the mountains. Having left Pedir and gone down the northern[393] coast, I drew towards the south and south-east[394] direction, and reached to another country and city which is called Samatra, in which we saw many merchants; and in a single quarter we counted five hundred changers, besides other quarters where there were many others. There are innumerable silk workshops. The people are all dressed in cotton. They navigate with vessels made of a certain wood which looks like canes: they call them juncos in Malay language: they carry three masts and two helms: when they pass any stiff gulf, the wind being contrary they hoist other sails, and they are raised on the second mast, and so they make their voyage. The houses of this city of Samatra and its island, which are all named from it, as I said speaking of Pedir, are of stone and lime, low and covered with shells of tortoises or turtles. Each one of these shells covers as much as two or three bucklers; they are painted of their natural colour like ours. From here we stood to the east until the Bandan Islands, and we found near this, which gives name to the others, twenty islands. It is a dry country which bears fruit; some of these islands are inhabited, the people are like the peasants of Malabaria and Calicut, who are called poliares and gicanales,[395] they are of a low way of living, and coarse intelligence. A profitable commodity is found in Bandan, namely nutmeg, which grows here in great quantity and kinds. Thence we departed to other islands standing to the north-east and east-north-east[396] through many channels as far as the islands of Malut. In them grows much cloves, they are five in all, the largest of them is smaller than Bandan. The Maluquese people are very wretched, and worth little, they are very beastly, and of a brutal mode of living, they do not differ from animals in their customs but only in possessing the human face. They are whiter than other races of these islands. The cloves grow in another island which is smaller, and is called Tidory, the tree on which it grows is like the box or buxo. When the cloves are ripe on the trees they stretch cloaks or sheets on the ground and sweep the tree, and the inhabitants gather the most they can. The country is of earth clay and sand; it is so near the line that the north star cannot be seen, and then they sail by certain stars which the orientals are accustomed to. And having departed from here to another second isle, there we the four Christians and some Malays remained; and there the King of Maluco shewed great honour to Fran^{co} Serano, the before-named captain, and married him with honour to his daughter, and to the others who wished to go he gave permission to go and see the city and island of Java. On the road we found an island which is called Borney, which is fifty leagues from Maluco, and it is somewhat larger than Maluco, and much lower. Its people adore idols, they are rather white, and go dressed with shirts like those of sailors, and in face they are like the people of the city of Cayro: they dress in camlets. From this island we went to another and took other mariners. Tn this country there grows much camphor, because there are many trees in which it grows, and from there we set out to the island of Zaylon, at which we arrived in three days; and so the mariners whom we took in Borney carried a map for navigating, and they had a needle and loadstone, and a chart in which they had many lines and strokes at which we were greatly amazed[397], and spoke to them of it in the Malay language: and the north star having disappeared from us in those countries the mariners told us that they guided themselves throughout all that region by five stars, principally by one star opposite to the north to which they continue to navigate, and for this they always carry a needle and loadstone because that stone always follows the north, towards which they continue to sail, and it never turns away from the north, and they look on it on that account; and the mariners of Borneo told us that in that part of that island there was a people which used the contrary stars opposite to the north, for their navigation; and which seemed to be almost the antipodes of Tropia and Sarmatia, and that this people inhabited in the frigid zone near the antarctic pole, which appeared in that country not to have more than four hours of daylight; for the country is very cold to a wonderful degree, on account of the climate being like that which exists near the Arctic Pole. Having left this island, we went to the island of Java, in which we found four kinds of kings, who follow different rites, all idolators, who worship idols, others the sun, others the moon, and others worship the cows, and things to eat, and others worship the devil. There are other races which go dressed with cloaks and bornusses of silk and camlet. There are in this Java some who sell their parents when they see that they are old and decrepit, to another nation, who are called canibals or anthropophagi, who are pagans, and likewise brothers sell their brothers when they are sick: when their recovery is despaired of they bring them out into the market-place and sell them to those Caribs, saying that man's flesh is brought up with so much care and luxury, that it would not be in reason that the earth should consume it. NOTE TO pp. 228-229.--See pages 249-251 of _The Travels of Ludovico de Varthema_ Hakluyt Society, and notes, also Mr. R. Major's able Introduction to the _Early Voyages to Terra Australis, now called Australia_. This passage, written about five years later than when Varthema wrote, is a fuller statement than Varthema's: and taking the two together, there can be little doubt that the information they contain was based on actual knowledge of Australia. NOTE TO DESCRIPTION OF PRECIOUS STONES. I have read with great interest the passages of the manuscript relating to precious stones, and I have admired their conscientious appreciation and exactness in details. A doubt was raised with respect to stones of combined colours; they do exist, but are by no means valued in Europe. The proportions of the prices in regard to weights, are still very exact as to the Indian market, and uncut stones. Experiments similar to those here described have been made in Europe, and chiefly in Germany, to heighten the colour of gems, rubies especially, by exposing them to fire, but their success has been so hazardous, nay costly, that speculation has been unwilling to expose itself to so much risk. Jargon-corindon or circon was much used in the sixteenth century, and is now without value: it has the merit of possessing the hardness of the sapphire. HENRY CAPT, 17, Rue du Rhône, Geneva. Jeweller. NOTE TO PAGE 30. The Munich MS. No. 571, like the Barcelona MS., has: "y las naos de alli se enpeguen el dicho yncenso el qual le vale alli de ciento cinquenta [=mrs] el quintal." But the Munich MS. No. 570 has: "e las naos desta costa son _embreadas_ en el e vale el quintal de ciento o ciento y cinquenta reaes en la tierra en donde nace." So that the meaning of the passage is that the ships are caulked or pitched with this herb or gum. NOTE TO PAGE 35. The Munich MS. No. 571 is like the Barcelona MS., but the MS. No. 570 gives this list of places:--"Lefete, quesebey, tabla, beroho, cal, cor, juza, mohymacim, lima, horbaz, alguefa, carmoni, cohmobarque, conch, conga, ebrahemi, xenaa, menacio, xamyle, leytan, bamtani, doam, loram," and leaves out the words which in the other two MSS. follow after the names of _Quesebi_, _Carmoni_, and _Ebrahemi_. From this MS. No. 570 it is clear how _tabla_ got into the maps. NOTE TO PAGE 93. Devadachi, femmes des Pagodes, servantes des dieux. Chap. 17. Ce sont ordinairement les tisserants qui vouent leurs filles aux pagodes, les parents ne leur demandent pas pour cela leur consentement, ils n'attendent pas même qu'elles soient en age de le donner, puisqu'ils les destinent au service des dieux dès qu'elles commencent de naître: ils ont grand soin de les préparer à cet état par un continuel exercice de la danse, du chant, et des jeux; il y a un maître exprès de ces exercises, qui enseigne les jeunes filles que l'on a destinées et devouées aux pagodes, et qui les dirigent dans les cérémonies: lorsqu' elles sont devenues devadashi, c'est à dire servantes des dieux, lorsqu' elles ont atteint l'âge de 9 ou 10 ans, leurs pères vont convier toutes les castes de venir assister à la consécration de leurs filles. On les conduit solemnellement à la pagode, devant d'y entrer elles donnent à tout le monde des marques de leur habileté dans la danse, dans le chant, et dans le jeu, et selon qu'on est content d'elles on leur fait des présents, ensuite elles entrent dans la pagode, elles se prosternent devant les dieux. Les Brahames qui sont là présens, les font relever, allors le prêtre offre la fille aux dieux, en leur disant, Seigneurs voilà une fille que je vous offre, daignez la prendre pour votre servante. Le Brahame officiant met dans la main de la fille un peu de Tirouniron, et un peu de l'eau qui a servi à laver l'idole: elle delaye tout cela ensemble, et elle s'en met au front pour marquer qu'elle se devoue d'elle-même avec joye pour être toute sa vie la servante des dieux. Cette cérémonie suppose que c'est à la pagode de Siva qu'elle se devoue particulièrement, car si c'est à la pagode de Vishnou elle se met le tirounamam[398] et on lui fait boire un peu de l'eau dans laquelle il y a quelques feuilles de Toulachi qui est une espèce de basilic. Ensuite soit que ce soit dans l'une ou dans l'autre pagode, le Brahamme officiant delaye dans un bassin de cuivre un peu de sandale avec de l'eau qui a servi à l'idole, et il en jette avec les doigts sur la fille. Cela marque la consécration parfaite. Il met au col une guirlande qui a servi à l'idole pour luy témoigner qu'elle est agréable aux dieux et qu'ils l'ont prise sous leur protection: le Brahamme luy dit qu'elle est présentement Devadashi, et qu'il l'exhorte à se comporter en digne servante des dieux, après cela elle se prosterne devant l'idole: le Brahamme la fait relever et ordonne à ses parents de l'aller conduire dans une maison particulière qui est proche la pagode, les parents y donnent du Bethel aux conviez et regalent toutes les devadachis. Toutes celles qui sont ainsi consacrées aux pagodes ne peuvent jamais se marier, ny elles ne peuvent plus retourner à leurs familles, ny en hériter. Elles font profession d'etre publiques à tout le monde, et les malabares croyent qu'il y a du mérite d'habiter avec les servantes des dieux. Elles n'ont point parmy elles de supérieures; chacune fait son menage separément si elles veulent on tire leur subsistance des revenus de la pagode, mais ce n'est pas ce qui les enrichit beaucoup; le commerce charnel qu'elles entretiennent avec tout le monde leur est bien plus lucratif, et celles qui font ainsi fortune ont grand soin de se bien habiller et de s'orner de pendants d'oreilles, de colliers et d'anneaux d'or, et de cercles d'argent aux bras et aux pieds l'employ des Devadashis est d'aller trois fois le jour à la pagode, c'est à dire le matin vers le midi et le soir, qui sont les temps que ce font les sacrifices et les cérémonies de la pagode, elles y dansent et chantent, et font des jeux pour le divertissement des dieux; elles font la même chose aux processions, et aux mariages. "Tout est odieux et criminel dans la condition de ces Devadashis, la cruauté des pères qui forcent la liberté de leurs enfants, l'impiété des pères qui prostituent leurs filles." The above extract is taken from a manuscript in the Royal Library, Munich, No. 1165 (Gall. 666), called La Religion des Malabares; it is supposed to have been written between 1705 and 1720, and to have belonged to the Missions Etrangères; later it was presented by the Abbé Clément to the library of the Oratoire St. Honoré. The MS. contains 546 pages and three parts. The first is an exposition of Christian doctrine; the second of the Malabar religion; the third sets forth the doctrinal differences between the Christians and Hindus, and shows how to proceed in arguing with the latter. The whole tenour of the book is, however, chiefly an attack on the Jesuits, whom it accuses of laxity, and of having sought to multiply the number of Christians rather than to secure the truth. It reproaches them with allowing Christian Malabars to play musical instruments in the pagodas, and pagan Malabars to play their instruments in Christian churches, and with having allowed various idolatrous ceremonies to have become perpetuated under a fresh dedication. This tenour of the MS. is the cause stated in a manuscript note by Abbé Clément, for the book having been removed from the missions étrangères when the credit of the Jesuits prevailed, and caused the departure from that establishment of the missionaries who were hostile to that body. From this work marriage seems to have been more general amongst the Malabars than would be supposed from the account of the early Portuguese voyagers in which much stress is laid upon the absence of marriage amongst the nairs. This missionary in treating of divorce amongst the Malabars says the husband retains the children, if there are any, and the wife returns to the husband the _taly_ which she had round her neck (probably the jewel which has been mentioned in the text;) and she resumes her dower if she brought any at her marriage. Amongst other objectionable practices of the Jesuits, blamed in this work, is the having adopted the Malabar name of Sarounasouren (signifying Lord of all) for the True God, since Sarunasuren is properly applied to Siva because he is the first human form which Carsa (or the most subtle of the five elements) took on forming the world; whilst the True God is neither Carsa nor Siva, and Sarunasuren is the name of an idol. Carsa is further described as supreme intelligence, the soul of the universe, and the most subtle of the five elements, water, fire, earth, air, and wind, and is said to have taken a human form which he called Shiva; and as Shiva was to disappear into Sattyaloguen or the most perfect heaven, he transformed himself into another human figure which he named Roudra, and also in others called Vishnou and Broumha. Carsa filled these three persons with intelligence, in order that they might remain in the world with men. _Section de la divinité des Malabars et de leur fausse Trinité._ Maycereni, the name of the third person of the Indian trinity given in the text, does not appear in this work, and may be an epithet of Rudra. The following is one of the most remarkable passages in this manuscript, and is much in accordance with M. E. Burnouf's recent publications in the Revue des deux Mondes. "Et comme ils ne rendent en particulier aucun culte extérieur à Carsa, ils croyent le dédommager suffisament par celui qu'ils rendent à tous les dieux; on voit par là combien l'erreur aveugle l'esprit des hommes qui s'éloignent du vray Dieu. Il n'est personne qui ne convienne que la cause est plus noble que son effet. Si donc ils supposent que ces dieux sont les effets de la puissance de Carsa, pourquoi leurs rendent-ils plus de culte qu'à ce Dieu, qu'ils disent être le principe de toute chose. N'est-ce pas faire de Carsa un dieu chimérique?" p. 539. The reader may see in Mr. Frank's book on the Kabbala, with respect to the Adam Kadmon, how much Hindu ideas, and especially the Hindu theory of the formation of the world, had penetrated into Syria, and corrupted the Jews, before the Christian era. INDEX. Abyssinia, 19 Aden, 26 Afuni, 16 Albuquerque, 46 Amber, 165 Andavat, 58 Angoxe, 9 Ava, 186 Bacavar, 82 Bahrein Island, 37 Banda, 74 Bandan Islands, 192, 199 Banians' aversion to destroy life, 51 Barbesy, 63 Basalor, 82 Baticala, 79 Baxay, 68 Bengal, 178 Betel, 73 Bijanagur, 85; its just administration, 86 Bramans, their customs, 121 Brava, its republic, 15 Bueneo, 204 Buendari, 64 Burmah, 181 Calicut, 152 Camaran island, 26 Cambay, 55, 64 Cananor, 149, 150, 151 Cannibals, 190, 196 Celebes, 203 Ceylon, 166 Chalderan, battle of, 40 Champa, 204 Champaver, 57 Chaul, 69 China, 190, 192 Chittagong, 178 Cinnamon, 219 Cintacola, 78 Cloves, 184, 219 Coinage of Ormuz, 45; Baticala, 81; Narsinga, 86 Comorin Cape, its church, 163 Dabul, 71 Dalaqua, 18 Damda, 71 Decan, 69 Delhy, 98 Denvy, 68 Diquirmale mountain, 177 Diu, battle of, 61 Duels in Southern India, 80 Elephants, their price, 168; way of catching, 167 Erecanguy, 182; mode of selection of damsels by the king, 183 Fartak country, 28, 29 Gandos, hill tribes of Central India, 58 Guardafun, 16 Goa, 74 Goyari, 63 Guzerat, 50, 55 Hindu marriages, 54; Trinity, 53 Horses, their price, 76, 89; fed on dried fish, 49; on cooked grain, 90 Hussein, Admiral, 25, 62 Humpbacked maids of honour, 202 Idolatrous rites, 53 Ismail Shah, his rise and policy, 38, 39, 40 Java, 192 Jiddah, 26-27 Joghis, 99, 100, 101 Junks, 206 Keddah, 189 Kulam, 157, 172; king's guard of women, 173 Lapidaries, Ceylon, 169 Limadura, 66 Madagascar, 13, 14 Magadoxo, 16 Malabar, 101 Malaca, 190 Maldive islands, 164; division of by the king, 103; customs, 104; king's coronation oath, 107; his funeral ceremonies, 108; clerks and writing, 110; king's waiting women, 111; their festival on king's accession, _ib._; king's customs, 113; justice, 116 Malays, 191 Mandabad, 71 Manfia, 14 Mangalor, 82 Marepata, 177 Martaban, 185 Maylepur, encroachments of the sea, 174 Medina, 23 Mekkah, 23, 188 Melinda, 12, 13 Mokhah, 26 Moluccas, 192 Mombaza, 11, 12 Monomotapa, 6, 7 Mozambique, 9, 10 Musk, adulteration of it, 187 Nairs, 124; customs, 124 Narsinga, 84; council, 89; king's household, 87; punishment of high officers, 89; army, _ib._; vivandières, 90; enlistment, 91; king's method of carrying his subjects to the wars, 96 Nestorians, 162 Nicobar islands, 195 Onor, 79 Orissa, 98, 177 Ormuz, 32 _et seq._; council, 44; blind kings, 44; council put down by Albuquerque, 47 Pahang, 189 Palecate, 176 Pardan coins, 81 Patemshi, 58 Pearl fishery, 170 Pegu, 183 Pepper, its price, 207, 218 Porcelain manufacture, 185 Portuguese piracy, 46, 72, 76 Prester John, 19 Price of drugs, 220, 221, 222; eagle-wood, 221; elephants, 168; horses, 76, 89; pepper, 217, 218; rice, 82; rubies, 210; spices, 220, 221, 222 Quicksilver trade, 81, 174 Quilacare, self-immolation of its king, 172 Quiloa, 10, 11 Rajputs, 50 Ravel, 67 Rice, kinds of, 82 Rubies, 168, 169 Sael, 173 Self-torture by girls, 95 Shehir, 3, 4, 30 Siam, 188 Sinai, mount, 22 Socotra, its Christians, 29; its Amazons, 29 Sofala, 4; cotton cultivation, 6 Suez, 21 Sumatra, 195 Sunda, 196 Surat, 67 Suratimangalor, 59 Suttee, 91 Taborine, sacred stone worn by Joghis, 101 Tanasery, 188 Thomas, St., his miracles, 160, 161, 175; his death, 175; his Christians, 176 Tree which produces poison and the antidote, 101 Ucique islands, 3, 4, 5 Voyage of Francisco Serrano from Malacca, 224 Weights, Portuguese and Indian, 223 Zanzibar, 14 Zeyta, 17 Zimbao, 7 Zuama, 8 LONDON: T. RICHARDS, 37, GREAT QUEEN STREET. FOOTNOTES: [1] I have been informed by Mr. Winter Jones that Diego Ribero drew up a map of the world in 1529, of which Sprengel wrote an account in 1795, called, Über J. Ribero's alteste Weltcharte. He gives the western hemisphere only, the eastern hemisphere has been published by the Vte. Santarem. This might be the means by which the orthography and errors of this work passed into the maps of Ortelius. [2] The Portuguese are scarcely justified in their censure of Magellan for serving Spain, after the neglect he had met with at the hands of the King of Portugal, since disnaturalisation was a custom of the country frequently practised at that period: and it is the necessary complement of naturalisation. [3] Here the Barcelona manuscript begins. [4] Insula Bocicas, 23 deg. S. lat., just N. of C. S. Sebastian, Homann's Atlas, Nuremberg, 1753. [5] Probably Bahrein. [6] Cujus rex Quitove, Atlas, 1753. Reg. Munica cujus rex Chicanga. [7] Cefala, Ortelius. [8] Lusiadas, Canto v, stanza 76. Ethiopes são todos, mas parece, Que com gente melhor communicavam: Palabra alguma Arabia se conhece Entre a linguagem sua, que fallavam: E com panno delgado, que se tece De algodão, as cabeças apertavam, Com outro, que de tint azul se tinge, Cada hum as vergonhosas partes cinge. [9] Zimbro, Ortelius, Zimbaon, Atlas, 1753. Sedes Regia. [10] Ajonjo (Agiongoli) plant with a viscous substance. Ajonjoli Sesame plant. Ajonjera, carlina aqualis bruised in water makes birdlime. [11] Zuama, Ortelius. [12] Vê do Benomotapa o grande imperio, De selvatica gente, negra e nua, Onde Gonçalo morte e vituperio Padecerá pela Fé sancta sua: Nasce por este incognito hemispherio O metal, porque mais a gente sua Vê que do lago, donde se derrama O Nilo, tambem vindo está Cuama, Camoens, Canto x, stanza 93. [13] The old maps have a kingdom of Mongale stretching N. from the R. Zuama. [14] Angoches, 16 deg. S. lat., Homann. [15] Mozambique, Ortelius. [16] Quiloa, Ortelius. [17] Mombaza, Ortelius. [18] Camoens confirms the author's statement of the flourishing condition of Mombaza, and of its devastation by the Portuguese. Canto x, stanzas 26, 27-- Ambos darâo com braço forte armado A Quiloa fertil aspero castigo, Fazendo nella Rei leal e humano, Deitado forá o perfido Tyranno. Tambem farâo Mombaça, que se arrea De casas sumptuosas e edificios, Co'o ferro e fogo seu queimada e fea Em pago dos passados maleficios. [19] Melinde, Ortelius. [20] Melinde hospicio gazalhoso e charo. Camoens, Canto x, stanza 96. [21] Lusiade, Canto x, stanza 137-- De Sâo-Lourenço vê a ilha affamada, Que Madagascar he d'alguns chamada. [22] Cabo dos Corrientes, Ortelius. [23] Yname, in Portuguese, Inhame. Root in the form of a gourd, composed of two bulbs, which grow one above the other, the larger one below the smaller one. It is cut into slices and eaten instead of bread. It throws out very large leaves, without fruit. The ancients erroneously called it Fava Ægyptia, others have called it Arum Egyptium, which Bahuino, in his Historia Universal das Plantas, does not approve of. Bluteau, Dict., Coimbra, 1713. ñame--Genus of monocotyledonous plants of the family of the dioscoreas. Dico. Encyclopedico, Madrid, 1855. The "maize" mentioned in the text must be a mistake of the author or of the translators: it should be yams. [24] Penda and Zenzibar, Ortelius. [25] Pato, Ortelius, Homann. [26] Lamon, Ortelius. [27] Brava, Ortelius. The German Atlas of 1753 adds Respubl. to the name of Brava. [28] The river of this place is called Mecadesso in the German Atlas, which shows the Arabic origin of the name; in Ortelius Magadazo. [29] Orfuni, in Atlas of 1753. [30] Guardafun, Ortelius. [31] Met, Ortelius, and the Atlas of 1753. [32] Barbara, Ortelius. [33] Zeila, Ortelius. [34] Dalacca, Ortelius. [35] Abyssinians, Habeshin in Arabic. [36] Saachem, Ortelius. [37] Berr Ajem. The spelling of this name is a proof that the Spanish j still had the value of the English j and the Arabic jim. [38] This refers to the Sawahily of Abyssinia, not to the people of Arabia, and applies to them. [39] Almalafa, a cloak, plaid, old Spanish, not in dictionaries, from Arabic. [40] "Estas cosen a sus hijas sus naturas quando son chiquitas dexandoles solamente un meadero y asi las traen cosidas fasta que son en hedad de casar y las entregan a sus maridos y estonces les cortan la carne questa soldada como sy nacieron asy." The Portuguese edition states that Barbosa knew this by experience. [41] Habeshy, Abyssinian. [42] Babel Mandel, Ortelius. [43] Zues, Ortelius. [44] Camoens thus describes the interruption by the Portuguese of the Indian voyages to the Red Sea. Canto ix, stanzas 3 and 4:-- Gidá se chama o porto, aonde o trato De todo o Roxo mar mais florecia, De que tinha proveito grande, e grato O Soldão, que esse reino possuïa. Daqui os Malabares, por contrato Dos infieis, formosa companhia De grandes naos pelo Indico Oceano Especiaria vem buscar cada anno. Por estas nãos os Mouros esperavam, Que, como fossem grandes e possantes, Aquellas, que o commercia lhe tomavam, Com flammas abrazassem crepitantes: Neste socorro tanto confiavam, Que já não querem mais dos navegantes, Senão que tanto tempo alli tardassem, Que da famosa Meca as naos chegassem. And Canto x, stanza 50:-- Barbará se teme Do mal, de que o emporio Zeila geme. [45] Hussein. [46] Eliobon, Atlas of Ortelius and Iambut or Yembo. [47] Voyages and Travels by R. Kerr, vol. ii, p. 512. Letter from merchants of Spain to their correspondents respecting a treaty of peace and league between the Kings of Portugal and Calicut. We have been informed by those who were on board the fleet which sailed from Lisbon to India in May, 1502, and returned on the 15th December, 1503, that the King of Calicut has concluded a peace with our Sovereign on the following conditions.... That our king, if so inclined, may build a fort at Calicut, and shall be supplied with a sufficient quantity of stones, lime, and timber for that purpose. [48] Probably Admiral Hussein had heard of Monçaide, the spy of Vasco de Gama, of whom Camoens says:-- Estava para dar ao Gama aviso E merecer por isso o Paraiso. Este, de quem se os Mouros naô guardavam, Por ser Mouro, como ellos, antes era Participante em quanto machinavam. Canto ix, stanzas 5 and 6. [49] The above anecdote of the fortitude and perseverance of Mir Hussein after his defeat, is new; and seems conclusive as to this MS. having remained unpublished, and almost unread; since, the _Panorama_ (or Spanish version of the _Univers Pittoresque_) _Historia de Portugal_, por M. Fernando Denis, Conservador de la Biblioteca de Santa Jenoveva: traducida por Una Sociedad Literaria, Barcelona, Imprenta del Fomento, 1845; says at p. 123:-- "This battle, as Simon Goulard relates it, brought the power of the Mussulmans of Egypt to an end, and so convinced of this was Melek-Jaz that he hastened to conclude a peace with the Portuguese. Mir-Hosein, who had manifested such distinguished valour and such profound knowledge in this struggle, fearing the inconstancy of Melek-Jaz, who might have given him up to Almeida, went off hurriedly to the kingdom of Cambay, and later removed himself to Upper Hindustan: but the historians lost his trace here and never again make any mention of the chief of the confederation of the Rumys." [50] Jizan. [51] Mocha. [52] Camaran, Ortelius. [53] Or Indians. [54] Alaquequa is an Indian stone which stops the flow of blood; alaquequas are glass beads. Dictionary of V. Salva, Paris, 1856. [55] The cocoa-nut shell is within a very thick husk, and so maybe called a kernel. [56] Lac. [57] Mangala, fortress of Sumatra, in the country of Lampong, on the shore of the Tulang-Buvang, nine leagues and two-thirds from the mouth of that river. _Geographical Dictionary_, Barcelona, 1832. [58] Dhafar. [59] Fartach, Ortelius, Fartaque, Atlas of 1753. [60] Greco y levante, N.E.E., Gregal, Grech, N.E. wind, still used in Catalan. [61] Mastro y Soroco, Mistral & Sirocco. [62] Marked with a cross thus in the MS. [63] Sangre de dragon. [64] Dolfar, Ortelius. [65] Shehir, one of the chief seaports of Hadramant. Zehar, Ortelius. [66] Enciencio, antient for ajenjo, Absinthe; perhaps the Kat or Katta, a very expensive leaf of a shrub. [67] This refers to the monsoon; if it is unfavourable the ships cannot get up the Red Sea. [68] This word is illegible, it reads _se enpegen_. [69] Probably an error of the pen for Ras al Gat. [70] Cape Mussendom, in Ortelius and the German Atlas of 1753 also Mocandon, here it is evident that the cedilla of the c has been forgotten, and the error has been perpetuated. Ç is often used for s in old manuscripts. [71] In the German Atlas there is a place called Kellat, and another close by called Calajute; Calata, Ortelius. [72] Curiate in Ortelius and the German Atlas. [73] This may be read Sar, or Sari. [74] Soar Ortelius, Sohar in the German Atlas (map of Persia). [75] Lebeche or leveche, S.W. wind. [76] In the German Atlas Corscan, there is also another place there inland a long way off called Orfacan, both these seem to be corruptions of the name in the text Khor Fakan. [77] Julphar or Giotoffar in the German Atlas. [78] Roccalima in the Atlas of Abraham Ortelius, Antwerp, 1570: the Ras el Khyma of Captain Felix Jones's Chart. [79] Probably Amulgowein of Captain F. Jones. [80] Calba, Ortelius. [81] Baha, Ortelius. [82] Iguir in Ortelius, 1570. [83] Naban, Ortelius, 1570. [84] Quesibi, Ortelius. [85] Berou, ibidem. [86] Moy Macina, Ortelius, 1570. [87] Lima, Ortelius. [88] Carmon, Ortelius. This list of towns is thus introduced without anything to connect it with the narrative; they would apparently be places on the Shat el Arab, between the sea and Basrah, but from the Atlas of Ortelius it is clear that they are intended to follow after Quesebi, from which word to "estuary" should be read in a parenthesis: from the entire absence of punctuation and capital letters in the MS. there is great difficulty in ascertaining always the correct meaning. This passage seems to show that those who made the early maps had had a copy of this MS. under their eyes. "Quesebi: y dende aqui adelante da vuelta la costa a maestro y tramontana hasta la boca del Rio eufrates y comiença en esa vuelta una tabla berohu caljar," et cetera. The word _tabla_ can hardly as here placed mean a list, and one of its meanings, dead water, or water without a current, in speaking of a river, seems here most applicable. Ortelius, however, followed by the German Atlas of 1753, has got _Tabla_ as a town between Quesibi and Berou, in which case the sense of comienza and una would be imperfect. As the word _tabla_ is Spanish, and in Portuguese is _tabula_, it would appear that this Spanish translation and not the Portuguese original has been made use of for the ancient atlases. This view is confirmed by there being no such place as Tabla in Captain F. Jones's Chart. Ramusio's edition has Tabla between Quesibi and Berohu. [89] Gues, Ortelius, on the Persian shore. [90] Gues, before named, re-appears as Cuez, Basida, Costaque, Conga, which are placed on the Arabian shore: Gonga also appears on the Persian shore in Ortelius's Atlas, 1570. [91] Braimu, Ortelius. [92] Denaze, ibid. [93] Doan, ibid., on Persian shore. [94] Laron, ibid. [95] Andrani, Ortelius. [96] Quaro, ibid. [97] Lar, ibid. [98] Coiar, ibid. [99] Tome, ibid. [100] Mulugan, ibid. [101] Quezimi, ibid. [102] Baharem, ibid. Besides these islands, Ortelius has got Gicolar and Ficor, which names might have been made out of the above list from this very MS. by reading differently the names which are written in italics. [103] Here there appears to be a gap in the MS. of three quarters of a line. [104] Shah Ismail, King of Persia, contemporary of the writer of this MS. and founder of the Shiah rite as at present existing. [105] Son-in-law. This account is like that of Ramusio and differs somewhat from the Portuguese. [106] The origin of the Kizilbashes. [107] Chalderan, 3rd Rejeb 920, or August 1514. Vicente Rocca, in his history of the Turks, printed at Valencia 1556, says that the corpses of many Persian women who had accompanied their husbands in disguise, were found after the battle, and that Sultan Selim ordered them to receive an honourable burial. [108] This embassy came to Albuquerque when he was at Ormuz the last time, the envoy sent by Albuquerque was Fernan Gomez. San Roman Hist. de la India, pp. 239, and 246-249. Valladolid, 1603. [109] Frat, with a Persian termination. [110] With respect to this geography of the four rivers of Paradise, see M. Renan's remarks on the Persian traditions, in his Hist. des Langues Semitiques, pp. 481-483. Paris, 1863. [111] Zircon or jargon, a stone of which false diamonds are made. [112] Reubarbaro. [113] Sarahueles, Serwal or Shalwar. [114] Almaizar. [115] Atauxsia, Moorish workmanship of inlaying metals. [116] This description of Persian customs is very exact. [117] The Jewish traveller Pedro Teixeira (or Teireira, according to Rodriquez de Castro, Biblica, Rabinica Esp.) at the end of the sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth century, wrote a history of Persia, translated from Mirkhond, and a "Journey from the East Indies to Italy Overland," Antwerp, Jerome Verdassen. Teixeira wrote the first part of this work in Portuguese, and afterwards translated it into Spanish, adding the second part. Both were translated into French by C. Cotolendi in 1681, and printed at Paris under the title of "Voyages de Teixeira, ou l'Histoire des Rois de Perse." He died at Verona. Teixeira says: "It was a custom much in use, both formerly and in later times among the kings of Persia and Harmuz, in order to assure themselves of those whom they might have reason to fear, and who commonly were their relations. And even this day may be seen at Harmuz, on a hill near the hermitage of Santa Lucia, at a little more than a mile from the city, the ruins of some towers, in which the kings placed their relations who had been blinded for this reason. The method which they used for depriving them of sight was this: they took a brass basin, and heating it in the fire as much as possible, passed it two or three or more times before the eyes of the person they intended to blind; and without other lesion of the eyes they lost their sight, the optic nerves being injured by the fire, but the eyes remaining as limpid and clear as before." Amador de Los Rios, Estudios sobre los Judios de España, p. 557. Madrid, 1848. Ramusio has translated to blind "cavar gli occhi," which in this case would not apply. [118] This observation is owing to the Moorish coins of the Almohade dynasty having been square, which gave rise to the Spanish saying of spendthrifts: "My money rolls, as it is not Moorish." [119] The standard of modern Spanish silver coin is eleven dinars, or dineros. [120] The Portuguese force is said to have consisted of fifteen hundred Portuguese and six hundred Indian soldiers; this took place in 1514. Panorama or Univers Pittoresque. According to San Roman Hist. de la India Oriental in the beginning of 1515, Albuquerque's force consisted of 26 sail, 1500 Portuguese, and 600 Malabars. [121] This governor's name was Rais Hamid; one account says so many daggers were drawn against him that the Portuguese wounded one another's hands: the other governor mentioned later was named Rais Nordim, i.e., Nureddin. [122] In Ortelius's Map of Asia Dulcinda is some way up a river; in the German Atlas of 1753 no trace of it appears. [123] Ulcinde, Camoens, canto x, stanza 106. [124] Or hither. [125] Cogecillos. [126] Or gallery. [127] A la bastarda. [128] The Chaugan, Persian game of hockey on horseback. [129] Urdu perhaps is meant by the writer. [130] Campanero in Ramusio, Champanel in Portuguese edition. [131] Gandos, people of Hindustan, established in the mountainous parts of the province of Ganduana: they live by the chase and the produce of their flocks, and, contrary to the custom of other Indians, eat fowls and bury their dead. The women are obese, and stronger than the men; they wear a dress all of one piece, paint all their body, and become bald in the prime of life. Ganduana, between 17 deg. and 24 deg. N. lat. and 81 deg. and 88 deg. E. long. Diccionario Encic., Madrid, Gaspar y Roig, 1855. [132] Jagri. [133] Arrak. [134] This name might also be read Dvuxa or Dimxa. [135] Shehir. [136] This word alcatifa might also mean velvets, at least that is its meaning in Arabic and Wallachian; in modern Spanish it means a fine carpet. [137] Coast guards, watch boats. [138] Kind of artillery. [139] This passage seems to fix the date of this work as previous to 1515, since in that year the Portuguese made themselves masters of Diu, in which they built a fortress in 1536. (Diccion. Geog. Universal, Barcelona, 1831.) [140] Of Egypt. [141] This author seems to have confused the account of two naval battles, reducing them to one; the above account, as far as the description of the meeting of the hostile fleets, refers to the battle in 1507, in which the Portuguese, commanded by Lorenzo son of Francisco de Almeyda, were routed and Lorenzo slain. Melik Az saved twenty prisoners alive from Lorenzo's ship, which would not strike, treated them well, and wrote to condole with the father, Francisco de Almeyda, for the death of his son. Almeyda prepared a fleet of nineteen sail to avenge his son's death, when Albuquerque arrived to supersede him; he had been sent from Europe in 1506. In spite of this Almeyda sailed for Diu, where Emir Hussein, instead of waiting for him, put out to sea against the advice of Melik Az and was defeated. Vasco Pereyra, captain of the ship that carried Admiral Hussein's ship by boarding, was killed, and his lieutenant, Tavora, took Emir Hussein's ship, killing or capturing all those who did not save themselves by swimming ashore. The captured ships were richly laden, and Almeyda distributed all the spoil amongst his crews. (This action was fought on the 3rd February, 1509.) Melik Az sued for peace after this defeat. His proposals were received with arrogance and a demand for the surrender of Emir Hussein: this Melik Az refused, but gave up all his Portuguese prisoners. Almeyda accepted this, but cut the heads off all his Moorish prisoners in cool blood at Cananor. Panorama, India, pp. 358-360, Barcelona, 1845; Translation of the Univers Pittoresque. The same work in the volume on Portugal, speaking of the first battle of Diu, merely says, "Mir Hosein routed the Portuguese, and Don Lorenzo lost his life," p. 121. Camoens thus describes the second battle of Diu, in his 10th canto, stanzas 35, 36. E logo, entrando fero na enseada De Dio, illustre em cercos e batalhas, Fará espalhar a fraca e grande armada De Calecut, que remos tem por malhas: A de Melique Yaz acautelada, Co 'os pelouros que tu, Vulcano, espalhas, Fará ir ver o frio e fundo assento, Secreto leito do humido elemento. Mas a de Mir-Hocem, que, abalroando, A furia esperará dos vingadores, Verá bracos, e pernas ir nadando, Sem corpos, pelo mar, de seus senhores: Raios de fogo irão representando No cego ardor os bravos domadores: Quanto alli sentirão olhos, e ouvidos, He fumo, ferro, flammas e alaridos. The last speech of Don Lorenzo d'Almeida is given in the following words in a MS. belonging to the Duke of Gor, at Granada, which describes the voyages to India from 1497 to 1509; it differs a little from that given in the second decade: "Dom Lourenzo lhe disse Snõres companheiros e irmaos, minha vida he acabada que este mundo me tinha emprestada e minha alma ira dar conta ao Snõr Deos que a fez. En vos mando, e muito rogo que tomandonos Meliquiaz sobre si como diz aventureis as vidas em sua palavra, porque de o nõ fazerdes tao certas aqui tendes as mortes se Ds' nõ acodir cõ sua m[=i]a (misericordia) que lhe pezo que aja cõ minha alma, que em suas sanctas mãos encomendo: e deu a alma," f. 406 v. Don Lorenzo said to them: "Gentlemen, companions and brothers, my life which this world had lent me is ended, and my soul will go to give an account to the Lord God who made it. I charge you, and beg much of you, that as Melikiaz will take us on his own responsibility, as he says, that you adventure your lives upon his word, because if you do not do so, you have before you certain death, unless God succour you with his mercy: which I pray him to have with my soul, which I commend into his holy keeping." And he gave up his spirit. [142] Sambuks, Arab undecked boats. [143] This may have been intended for ivory of elephants, it would seem difficult to get an elephant into a sambuk. [144] _Pozos_, wells, hollows. [145] Guadamecil, _aluta celata_. [146] This word is very clearly _enyertan_, which is an old word meaning to freeze, to congeal, to make _yerto_--hard: so that this stone would be like the Chinese soap stone, which is soft and easily carved when first extracted. _Ensartan_ would apply, meaning to string beads, but the writing does not admit of it. [147] Ravel in Ortelius's map of India, 1570. [148] Axuar, the household furniture which a wife has to bring to her husband on her marriage. [149] The writer had forgotten that _aduana_ (custom-house) and _divan_ are the same word. [150] Or Denby. [151] Mezzo giorno, the Italian, instead of medio dia, a slip of the writer, the Genoese envoy. [152] Chaul, Ortelius, 1570. [153] Beatilla, bétille in French. [154] Dabul, Ortelius, 1570. [155] This was done by Don Francisco de Almeyda on his way to Diu in the beginning of 1509. [156] Llanten, _plantago_. The leaf is chewed, not eaten, and assists the digestion. [157] Munacem in Ramusio, and Muruary in the Portuguese edition. [158] _Rumys._ Turks are so called east of Turkey. These Turks may have served in the Egyptian fleet, but did not belong to the Ottoman forces, as Egypt was not united to the Ottoman Empire till later in 1517. Traz este vem Noronha, cujo auspicio De Dio os Rumes feros affugenta, Dio, que o peito e bellico exercicio De Antonio da Sylveira bem sustenta. Camoens, canto x, stanza 72. [159] February 25th, 1510, or on the 17th February according to San Roman; Albuquerque was driven out of Goa, and reconquered it on the 25th November 1510. [160] San Roman says that the revenue of Sabayo was five hundred thousand ducats; and that Goa produced much more in the hands of the King of Portugal (p. 183). [161] Aliga R., German Atlas, 1753. [162] Cintacola, Ortelius, 1570. [163] Bisinagar, Ortelius. [164] Cholmandel, Ortelius. [165] In the Italian and Portuguese editions Mergeo. [166] Onor, Ortelius. [167] Batticalla, Ortelius. [168] Quarter of a hundredweight. [169] Gomio, this word is intended, perhaps, for gumia, a kind of dagger, a Marocco word not Arabic; these words are neither of them to be found in the old dictionaries. The dagger is not mentioned in the Italian or Portuguese editions. [170] Pardao, an Indian coin worth 300 reis coined at Goa by the Portuguese, with the figure of King Sebastian. Dict. of P. Raphael Bluteau, Lisbon, 1720. [171] Bahar, an Indian weight varying from 4-1/2 quintals to 5 quintals 3-1/2 arrobas. [172] Or Jauibasal, these names are variously spelled in the Italian and Portuguese editions. [173] Bacanor and Barsalor, German Atlas. [174] Fanega--4 bushels or 84 lbs. French. [175] Mangalor, Ortelius. [176] Cape Comori, Ortelius. [177] The Nil Gau or Blue Cow. [178] Ramusio coincides with this MS. in writing giagonzas on a former occasion, and on this gegonzas. [179] The abbreviation is [=m] [=mrs]; this might stand for ccc or three hundred, the value given by Ramusio. [180] Filosañias, may be intended for physiognomy. It is so translated by Ramusio. [181] The Arab travellers of the ninth century mention this. [182] Tambarme in Ramusio. [183] This is the probable origin of the story in Sinbad the Sailor. The Arabian Nights are not entirely fiction, as is usually supposed: the story of Seif el Muluk refers to facts in the Malay Annals, and describes the people, country, and winds about Sumatra. [184] "Y sobre el dicho palo esta una piedra de altura de un cobdo y en el medio un agujero en el qual meten un palo agudo y arman las gradas paramentadas con paños de seda para que la gente de fuera no vea el secreto de dentro y la madre de la moza con algunas otras mugeres entran en aquel lugar despues de hechas muchas cerimonias y alli sobre aquel palo agudo rompen la moza su virginidad y deraman la sangre sobre aquella piedra." [185] Apparently Orissa. [186] Compare Plato's views on this subject:-- "But if a soldier highly distinguishes himself and gains himself credit, ought he not, think you, in the first place, while the army is still in the field, to be crowned with a garland by each of the youths and children in turn among his comrades in arms?" "Yes, I think so." "But I suppose you will hardly extend your approbation to my next proposition?" "What is that?" "That he should kiss and be kissed by them all." "Most certainly I do; and I would add to the law, that during the continuance of the campaign, no one whom he has a mind to kiss be permitted to refuse him the satisfaction; in order that, if any soldier happens to entertain an admiration for either a male or female comrade, he may be the more stimulated to carry off the meed of valour." "Good, I replied; and we have already said that a brave man will be allowed to enter into marriage relations more frequently than others will, and to exercise more than the usual liberty of choice in such matters, so that as many children as possible may be obtained from a father of this character."--Republic of Plato, book v, § 468, p. 201. Translation by Davies and Vaughan, Cambridge, 1858. [187] Orissa: in this MS. it is clearly a _t_, but _t_ and _r_ are easily confounded in the handwriting of this period. [188] Bragueros de laton. [189] Eyicianos. [190] Lo al, old expression for Lo demas. [191] The Chulias or people of Southern India do this always. [192] Or--these on being opened. [193] Baxana in Ramusio, and Braechagua in the Lisbon edition. [194] Nirabixi in Ramusio and Miralexy in Lisbon edition. [195] People in the East carry stones of this description, which are said to draw out the venom from the bite of a serpent. [196] Camoens addresses the King of Malabar as: "O nobre successor de Perimal" Canto viii, stanza 82. [197] This agrees with the account of the Arab travellers of the ninth century. Paris, Langles. [198] Cananor. [199] Called Zamorin in other works, and Samorim by Camoens. [200] Ramusio calls them Cunelanadyri, Benatederi, and Coletri; the Lisbon edition, Maly Couadary, Benatady, Cobertorim. [201] Mostasos: old word, before introduction of bigotes from the German soldiers, and still used in Majorca. [202] Repostero: a cloth marked with the arms of a grandee for putting over a beast of burden, or hanging in a doorway,--a portière. [203] No valen mas de que ser hijos de sus madres. [204] Sister of the king, apparently, from what follows. [205] Ramusio, Caimaes; Lisbon edition, Cahimal. [206] Atabal. [207] Cymbals. [208] Sistra. [209] Of a cross-bow shot. [210] Sygnadas. [211] Valedor. [212] Buxen, not in the dictionaries: buxeta, a small casket for perfumes to put in the pocket, so called because made of bux or box; Anglicè, box. [213] If the writer had been a Spaniard, especially from Catalonia, he would have added here, "in our fashion." This way of drinking extends into Roussillon, and this custom was not introduced by the Arabs. [214] Hidalgo por el Rey: an expression meaning a modern noble, not one whose origin is anterior to the Spanish monarchy: here it may imply official position only. Ramusio, Talassen; Lisbon edition, Talixe. [215] Albalá, from Alberat, Letters Patent, Brevet, Warrant, Letter for drawing Pay. This word is in little use in Castile, but is common in Valencia and Aragon. Spanish, Latin, and Arabic Dict., Fr. Francisco Cañes. Madrid, 1787. [216] This part is wanting in Ramusio, who says a little lower down, "Here several lines are wanting." [217] Or it may be read Ciessua; Ramusio, Cressuamengan; Lisbon edition, Cryuamergam. [218] That is, the first mass said by a new priest. [219] Como mayorazgo. [220] See Cardinal Wiseman's Lectures with regard to this subject, also the work of another Catholic author, where this Hindu doctrine is termed an _adumbration_. The Abbé Huc is opposed to the above-mentioned divines, and calls this a _counterfeit of Satan_. Unless his theory, or another alternative, be adopted, it must be assumed, since the Brahminical books were contemporary with David, perhaps with Moses, that the Hindus were more favoured than the Chosen People of Israel: which is impossible. "Il faut ajouter que la science brâhmanique n'a pas été étrangère au développement du génie grec, l'une des sources de notre civilisation, ni à la formation du christianisme, religion de tout l'Occident." M. Emile Burnouf, La Civilisation Chrétienne en Orient, Revue des deux Mondes, 1er Juin, 1865, pp. 632, 633; see also pp. 638, 639. [221] This may be estimated from the value of rice, 150 to 200 maravedis the 4 bushels or 90 lbs. See above. [222] The explanation of this ceremony is to be found in Plato:-- "We said, you remember, that the children ought to be the issue of parents who are still in their prime." "True." "And do you agree with me that the prime of life may be reasonably reckoned at a period of twenty years for a woman, and thirty for a man?" "Where do you place these years?" "I should make it the rule for a woman to bear children to the state from her twentieth to her fortieth year: and for a man, after getting over the sharpest burst in the race of life, thenceforward to beget children to the state until he is fifty-five years old." "Doubtless," he said, "in both sexes, this is the period of their prime both of body and mind." "If, then, a man who is either above or under this age shall meddle with the business of begetting children for the commonwealth, we shall declare his act to be an offence against religion and justice; inasmuch as he is raising up a child for the state, who, should detection be avoided, instead of having been begotten under the sanction of those sacrifices and prayers, which are to be offered up at every marriage ceremonial by priests and priestesses, and by the whole city, to the effect that the children to be born may ever be more virtuous and more useful than their virtuous and useful parents, will have been conceived under cover of darkness by aid of dire incontinence." "You are right." "The same law will hold should a man, who is still of an age to be a father, meddle with a woman, who is also of the proper age, _without the introduction of a magistrate; for we shall accuse him of raising up to the state an illegitimate, unsponsored, and unhallowed child_." "You are perfectly right." "But as soon as the women and the men are past the prescribed age, we shall allow the latter I imagine to associate freely with whomsoever they please, so that it be not a daughter, or mother, or daughter's child, or grandmother; and in like manner we shall permit the women to associate with any man, except a son or a father." Republic, book v, sect. 461. Davis and Vaughan's Translation, p. 190. "Explicemus jam tandem, quam nam florentem ætatem in utroque sexu existimemus, mulierem porro florenti esse ætate arbitramur, si a vigesimo ætatis suæ anno usque ad quadragesimum generationi incumbat, virum autem a trigesimo usque ad quinquagesimum quintum operam suam in gignendo civitati præbere præcipimus, in hoc enim annorum cursu et robur corporis, et prudentiæ vim sexus utriusque consistere certum est. Si quis igitur vel senior vel junior his generationes eas, quæ ad publicum civitatis commodum ordinatæ sunt, attigerit profanum et illegitimum hoc esse censebimus, quasi civitati foetum largiatur, qui si latuerit non sacrificiorum vel præcationum fiat inauguratione, quas tamen in singulis nuptiis cum universâ civitate peragent sacerdotes, ut ex bonis meliores et ex utilibus utiliores semper enascantur vota concipientes; sed id fiat sub tenebris ex vehementis cujusdam incontinentiæ libidine, eadem autem lex etiam erit servanda, si quis eorum qui et in ætate sunt apta ad matrimonium contrahendum, non assentiente tamen magistratu ad mulieres ætate nubiles accesserit, hunc enim statuemus edere civitati spurium profanum, et illegitimum partum; ubi vero et mulieres, et viri statutum generationi tempus pertransierint, _immunes a lege faciemus ut possint cum quacumque libuerit commisceri_; præter quam cum filia et matre et filiis filiarum ac matris ascendentibus; _et parem concedemus quoque libertatem mulieribus, ut possint cum quovis conjungi_, præter quam cum filio, vel patre, et ascendentibus, vel descendentibus ex his, quæ omnia, ubi mandaverimus curabimus, ne partus ullus omnino ex hujusmodi coitibus ortus in lucem proferatur, quod si proferetur sic expositus sit perinde ac quasi nulla ei adsint alimenta." Plato's Republic, book v. Translation of John Sozomenus, Venice, 1626. [223] Plato perhaps got this idea as well as others from India: "Consider, then, I continued, whether the following plan is the right one for their lives and their dwellings, if they are to be of the character I have described. In the first place no one should _possess any private property_, if it can possibly be avoided: secondly, _no one should have a dwelling or storehouse into which all who please may not enter_; whatever necessaries are required by temperate and courageous men who are trained to war, they should receive by regular appointment from their fellow-citizens, as wages for their services, and the amount should be such as to leave neither a surplus on the year's consumption nor a deficit...; but whenever they come to possess lands and houses and money of their own, they will be householders and cultivators instead of guardians, and will become hostile masters of their fellow-citizens rather than their allies." Republic, book iii, sect. 417. Davis and Vaughan's Translation, pp. 129, 130. "Itaque Adiutores communes habere filios et uxores summopere expedit, quæ et consentiunt omnino iis quæ superius a nobis dicta sunt, diximus enim _hos neque domos proprias habere debere; neque terram possidere, vel aliud quidpiam in bonis adnumerare_: sed a cæteris enutritos hanc quasi custodiæ mercedem accipere, quam et in communi positam consumant, si re vera custodes futuri sunt; ut et quæ prius a nobis dicta sunt, et quæ nunc etiam dicuntur efficiant ipsos veros custodes, et ne Rempublicam in partes dividant; sed ut uno potius animo de propriis judicantes, et ad id tendantes omnes, uno eodemque et doloris et voluptatis sensu afficiantur." Platonis de Rebuspublicis, liber quintus. A Joanne Sozomeno, Venetiis, 1626. "Etenim Plato cum multas Regiones lustrasset, et mores hominum varios inspexisset, ac sui temporis Respublicas contemplatus abundé fuisset, nec non antiquorum philosophorum ac legumlatorum monumenta studiosissime perquisivisset, senior tandem factus, politias quidem omnes nihil aliud esse intelligens, nisi concordem quandam in societate civili Regulam, ac ordinem quo eædem continerentur." Joannes Sozomenus Lectoribus. [224] Or it might be Pasicars. [225] Ramusio, _Sanguada_. Not in Lisbon edition. [226] Enbarbatadas. [227] That is 20 maravedis a day, about three times the peace allowance. See p. 124. Ramusio says 40 cas a day, which are 40 maravedis; the Lisbon edition has 4 taras a day. [228] Though the nairs were deprived of their fathers, it appears that they retained their own family relations: the "divine Plato!" however, goes beyond his Hindu teachers, and would have reduced men altogether to the condition of brutes. He says: "But how are they to distinguish fathers and daughters, and the relations you described just now?" "Not at all, I replied; only all the children that are born between the seventh and tenth month from the day on which one of their number was married, are to be called by him, if male, his sons, if female, his daughters; and they shall call him father, and their children he shall call his grandchildren; these again shall call him and his fellow-bridegrooms and brides, grandfathers and grandmothers; likewise all shall regard as brothers and sisters those that were born in the period during which their own fathers and mothers were bringing them into the world; and as we said just now, all these shall refrain from touching one another. But the law will allow intercourse between brothers and sisters, if the lot chances to fall that way, and if the Delphian priestess also gives it her sanction." Republic, book v, §461. Davies and Vaughan's Translation, p. 190. "At dices quomodo patres, et filiæ, ac cæteræ hujusmodi personæ, inter quas interdicta est conjunctio, cognoscent se invicem; siquidem, ut dictum superius est _post editos partus permiscendi sunt in ovili foetus omnes, ut neque mater, quæ genuit, vel proprium filium a ceteris dignoscat_? Verum tamen non est difficile hanc solvere difficultatem, etenim quicumque nascentur partus, a quo primum die quis sponsus factus fuerit post decimum mensem vel post septimum, hos omnes filios suos nominabit, et foeminas pari modo filias, et illi vice versa ipsum patrem appellabunt, eosque qui ex his nascentur filios filiorum vocabit; illi è contra hos et avos, et avias, eos verò omnes, qui eodem tempore nati fuerint, quo matres ipsorum generabant, sorores, ac fratres nuncupabunt; quæ servata regula quod modò dicebamus a mutuo hi concubitu abstinebunt; fratres autem ac sorores, si sors ita tulerit, et annuerit Pithiæ oraculum, lex cohabitare permittet: talis erit itaque nobis constituenda, inter custodes nostros communitas mulierum et filiorum." De Rebuspubl., liber quintus. [229] This legalised disorder appears to be exaggerated, but it is the natural consequence and result of the carrying out of Plato's theories with regard to the destruction of family among the nairs or military caste. It is singular that the author of such extravagant abominations should have found acceptance because he wrote in the Hellenic language. "Such are the main features of Plato's Republic, in reference to his Guardians. They afford a memorable example of that philosophical analysis, applied to the circumstances of man and society, which the Greek mind was the first to conceive and follow. Plato lays down his ends with great distinctness as well as the means whereby he proposes to attain them. Granting his ends, the means proposed are almost always suitable and appropriate, whether practicable or otherwise." Grote's Plato, vol. iii, p. 207. [230] "If one of the soldiers deserts his rank or throw away his arms, or is guilty of any such act of cowardice, must we not degrade him to the rank of an artisan, or an agricultural labourer?" "Decidedly." Republic, book v, sect. 468. Davis and Vaughan's Translation, p. 200. "Existimo autem imprimis ego eum, qui ordinem deseruevit, vel arma abjecerit, vel tale quid ex ignavia commiserit, in Opificum aut Agricolarum ordinem amandandum esse." Platonis de Rebuspubl., liber quintus. [231] Ramusio, Manantamar; Lisbon edition, Mainatos. [232] Plato explains the object of this regulation: "Itaque sacra deinceps connubia quam maxime fieri poterit efficiemus: erunt autem sacra constituenda, quæ utilissima fuerint, utilissima verò erunt, si lege marium cum feminis conjunctiones præscribantur, et tale quid in his conjunctionibus observetur, quale in propagatione ceterorum animalium ab iis observatum videmus, quibus id est propositum, ut quam generosi partus edantur, etenim licet sæpe sæpius animadvertere eos qui vel canes venatorios alunt, vel generosas aves enutriunt, et si generosas omnes existiment, eximias tamen ac præstantissimas quasdam e reliquarum numero eligere, ex quibus præcipue progenies suscipiatur." De Rebuspubl., liber quintus. * * * * * "Oportet enim ut ex hactenus dictis constitit optimos viros cum optimis mulieribus sæpissime congredi, deteriores verò cum deterioribus per raro, et illorum quidem editos partus nutrire, horum verò nequaquam: si modo præstantissimum sit futurum ovile." De Rebuspubl., liber quintus. "It follows from what has been already granted, that the best of both sexes ought to be brought together as often as possible, and the worst as seldom as possible, and that the issue of the former unions ought to be reared, and that of the latter abandoned, if the flock is to attain to first-rate excellence." Republic, bk. v, sect. 459. Davis and Vaughan's Translation, p. 187. [233] As no explanation of Zevil is given, it is possible that it is a slip of the pen for _e vil_ and vile. Ramusio, Tiberi; Lisbon edition calls them Tuias; in the Portuguese this caste is called tiar and _civel_ or rustic by antiphrasis, which has been mistaken by the translators for an Indian word. [234] Repeated thus in the manuscript. [235] Or hats. [236] Apretada or hard pressed. [237] Ramusio, Paneru; Lisbon edition, Panceni. [238] Ramusio, Revoler; Lisbon ed., Revoleens. [239] Ramusio, Puler; Lisbon, Poleas. [240] Ramusio, Pareas; Lisbon, Parcens. [241] Dañados de todo, this might be intended for dañosos, hurtful in every way; the word occurs before and is translated contaminated, but hurtful or noxious would make a better reading. [242] Ramusio, Cheliis; Lisbon, Chatis. [243] About two hundred tons. [244] Cubiertas. [245] Caña fistola. [246] Ramusio, Crecati; Munich MS. 571, Crecate. [247] Ramusio, Capogato; Lisbon ed., Quategatam. [248] Or ezerubs. [249] Root of ginger and other plants used in medicine. [250] Culebras de sombrero, a shade, canopy, hood, hat. [251] Ramusio, Pananie; Lisbon edit., Pananee; Munich MS. 570, Panane, 571, Pananx. [252] Ramusio, Catua; Lisbon, Chatua; Munich, 570 and 571, Chatua. [253] Caranganor, Ortelius: Cranganor, Homannus: it was taken by the Portuguese in 1505. [254] Beledy: Arabic word no longer in use. [255] Cuartillo, fourth part of an azumbre, equal to 2 litres and 016.618. [256] Notwithstanding the extreme value and utility of these trees, as here described, some thousands of them were lately cut down to make way for sugar canes, and in spite of the remonstrances of the inhabitants, by a European who had got the loan of some land for a term of years, in one of the Comoro Islands. The loss to the islands was still greater from the fact that they depend chiefly on their own resources, being out of the regular track of trading vessels. [257] Here Ramusio adds: "which the Christians of the country affirmed to me was described in their books, which they preserve with great veneration." Camoens puts this event, as well as the tomb of St. Thomas at Mailapur. Canto x, stanza 108. Olha que de Narsinga o senhorio Tem as reliquias santas, e bemditas Do corpo de Thomé, varão sagrado Que a Jesu Christo teve a mão no lado. 109. Aqui a cidade foy, que se chamava Meliapor, formosa, grande e rica: Os idolos antiguos adorava, Como inda agora faz a gente inica: Longe do mar naquelle tempo estava Quando a Fé, que no mundo se publica, Thomé vinha pregando, e ja passara Provincias mil do mundo, que ensinara. 110. Chegado aqui pregando, e junto dando A doentes saude, a mortos vida, A caso traz hum dia o mar vagando Hum lenho de grandeza desmedida: Deseja o Rei, que andava edificando, Fazer delle madeira, e não duvida Poder tira-lo a terra com possantes Forças d'homens, de engenhos, de elefantes. 111. Era tão grande o pezo do madeiro, Que, só para abalar-se, nada abasta; Mas o nuncio de Cristo verdadeiro Menos trabalho em tal negocio gasta: Ata o cordão, que traz por derradeiro No tronco, e facilmente o leva, e arrasta Para onde faça hum sumptuoso templo, Que ficasse aos futuros por exemplo. 112. Sabia bem que se com fé formada Mandar a hum monte surdo, que se mova, Que obedecerá logo á voz sagrada; Que assi lho ensinou Christo, e elle o prova: A gente ficou disto alvoroçada, Os Brãhmenes o tem por cousa nova Vendo os milagres, vendo a sanctidade, Hão medo de perder autoridade. 113. São estes sacerdotes dos gentios, Em quem mais penetrado tinha inveja, Buscam maneiras mil, buscam desvios, Com que Thomé, não se ouça, ou morto seja. O principal, que ao peito traz os fios, Hum caso horrendo faz, que o mundo veja, Que inimiga não ha tão dura, e fera, Como a virtude falsa da sincera. 114. Hum filho proprio mata, logo accusa De homicidio Thomé, que era innocente: Dà falsas testemunhas, como se usa, Condemnaram-no á morte brevemente: O Sancto, que não vê melhor escusa, Que appellar para o Padre Omnipotente, Quer diante do Rei, e dos senhores, Que se faça hum milagre dos maiores. 115. O corpo morto manda ser trazido, Que resuscite, e seja perguntado Quem foi seu matador, e será crido For testemunho o seu mais approvado: Viram todos o moço vivo erguido Em nome de Jesu crucificado: Da graças a Thomé, que lho deo vida, E descobre seu pai ser homicida. 116. Este milagre fez tamanho espanto, Que o Rei se banha logo na agua santa, E muitos após elle: hum beija o manto, Outro louvor do Deos de Thomé canta. Os Brahmenes se encheran de odio tanto, Com seu veneno os morde inveja tanta, Que, persuadindo a isso o povo rudo, Determinam mata-lo em fin de tudo. 117. Hum dia, que pregando ao povo estava, Fingiram entre a gente hum arruido: Ja Christo neste tempo lhe ordenava Que, padecendo, fosse ao ceo subido, A multidão das pedras, que voava, No Sancto dá já a tudo offerecido: Hum dos maos, por fartarse mais depressa, Com crua lança o peito lhe atravessa. 118. Choraram-te, Thomé, o Gange e o Indo; Chorou-te toda a terra, que pizaste; Mais te choram as almas, que vestindo Se hiam da sancta Fé que lhe ensinaste. [258] Mar Thomas is Syriac for St. Thomas; this word must have been introduced by the Nestorians or Armenians, as they are called here, though St. Thomas may have carried the word there himself in speaking of others, as of Mar Elias. [259] Ancient coin equal to two reals vellon or sixpence. [260] Mailapur, a league and two-thirds south of Madras, seat of a catholic bishop and two churches, was taken by the Portuguese in 1545 and by the French in 1672. [261] These were Nestorians, who call themselves in Mesopotamia Esky Chaldany, old Chaldæans. In 1599 Archbishop Alexander Menezes held a conference at Culam, for the purpose of uniting the Roman Catholics and Nestorians. [262] Blessed bread, is bread in little pieces distributed in churches on great feast days. [263] It is hardly necessary to state that this is absolutely opposed to catholic practice. [264] Selling the sacraments, canonically a great offence: it was condemned by the 48th Canon of the Council of Elvira, A.D. 305. [265] This passage is translated in the Lisbon edition from Ramusio; the next paragraph is not to be found in either of them. [266] It is vexatious that the date should be wanting; it is probable, however, that this was an Italian and an overland traveller, for if not he could not have been buried more than fifteen years, and a fresh tomb would have hardly called for notice from the writer. [267] This passage is not in the Italian or Portuguese edition of Barbosa. It is in the MS. No. 571 of the Munich Library, and the date is also wanting; in the Munich MS. No. 570 this paragraph is entirely wanting, as in Ramusio. [268] This group is called Maldivar in Ortelius, and is there stated to contain seven or eight thousand isles. One of the islands is called Y^a de Ilheos, or island of small islands, the second word being Portuguese and apparently not understood by the compiler of the atlas. [269] Muxama or mojama, preserved tunny fish. [270] "Vês corre a costa celebre Indiana Para o Sul até o cabo Comori, Já chamado Cori, que Taprobana (Que ora he Ceilão) defronte tem de si." Os Lusiadas, canto x, stanza 107. [271] There is something wrong here; for, from Cape Comorin to Maylepur is more than double fifty leagues; the direction of the compass and length of the channel, make it probable that the island of Manar was intended instead of Maylepur. [272] Jargon or Zircon is a stone having a superficial resemblance to a diamond. Milburn's Oriental Commerce, p. 361. Possibly this stone may be connected with the jarkna stein mentioned in the Edda, and supposed by Grimm to be the opal. In Ramusio the spelling is the same as in this MS. The whole of this passage is much shortened in the Lisbon edition. [273] "Olha em Ceylão, que o monte se alevanta Tanto, que as nuvens passa, ou a vista engana Os naturaes tem por cousa sancta, Por a pedra em que està á pegada humana." Lusiadas, canto x, 136. [274] The ascent is still performed in the same manner, and is difficult in windy weather. [275] Chilao in Ortelius's Map of Asia, the Portuguese way of writing Chilam. [276] Comp. Malay sampan. [277] Cael in Ortelius and Homannus, the cedilla has been omitted in another part of this work. [278] Maestros: this may also mean dealers. [279] Cholmandel, Ortelius. [280] This story is evidently of Hindu origin, since the peacock is respected by the Hindus. It also in some measure confirms the antiquity of the establishment of Christianity in India, which from this story must have been established before the arrival in India of any of the Nestorian priests: since they came from a country where the peacock is associated with the devil, especially amongst the devil-worshiping Yezidys, who have got a peacock for an idol, which was seen and described by Mr. Layard. Many of their superstitions come down from the Manichees of the second century. Besides this, I have seen an Arabic description of animals written in Syria, in which the peacock is described as the first creature expelled out of Paradise, on account of its pride. This idea and the Yezidy love for it, probably have a common origin. [281] Romeria: this word here translated pilgrimage, means a visit to a shrine or holy place, and is inferior to peregrinage: it implies a shorter distance, and is equivalent to ziaret. [282] Paleacate, Ortelius. [283] Guenga, Ortelius; it should be Gunga. "Ganges, no qual os seus habitadores Morrem banhados, tendo por certeza, Que inda que sejão grandes peccadores, Esta agua sancta os lava, e da pureza."--Lusiad. x, 121. [284] In Ortelius there is a place called Aralem, east of Bengala. [285] Bengala, Ortelius, and on the same spot in Homannus Chatigan; in our maps Chittagong, which name was changed by the Moghuls in 1666 to Islam Abad. "Vê Cathigão cidade das melhores De Bengala provincia; que se preza De abundante; mas olha, que está posta Para o Austro de aqui virada a costa."--Lusiad. x, stan. 121. [286] Abasis. [287] The employment of eunuchs was forbidden by the Prophet, since their employment induced people to supply the demand. Hidayah, vol. iv, p. 121. [288] Verma, Ortelius and Ramusio. [289] Aracangil, Lisbon edit. [290] Here Ramusio adds: "And they say that by this trial they know which of them are healthy and of a good temperament." [291] Pegu, Ortelius and Ramusio. [292] The Dicco. Geogo. Universal, Barcelona, states the distance at twelve leagues, as this work is chiefly translated from French authorities, these distances would agree, and the river deposit may have increased the distance. [293] This is also related by Nicolo Conti, India in the Fifteenth Century, Hakluyt Society. [294] Saddle between _à la gineta_, a high saddle and short stirrups, and _à la brida_, long stirrups and hardly any saddle at all. [295] Martabam, Ortelius. [296] Ava, Ortelius. [297] Capelan, Ortelius, near the mouth of the river Menam. [298] Sian, Ortelius. [299] Tanazaru, Ortelius. [300] Java frankincense, in Arabic. [301] Queda, Ortelius; Keddah, Malay State tributary to Siam, it derives its name from the Arabic, a cup. Ramusio and Lisbon edit., Quedaa. "Olha Tavay cidade, onde começa De Syão o largo imperio tão comprido Tenessary, Queda, que he so cabeça Das que pimienta aly tem produzido; Mays avante fareys que se conheça Malaca, por Emperio ennobrecido, Onde toda a província domar grande, Suas mercadorias ricas mande."--Lusiadas, x, stanza 123. [302] Paam, Ortelius; Pahang, now an independent Malay State. [303] Not in Ortelius; Salangore, an independent Malay State. [304] "Vé nos remotos montes outras gentes Que Gueos se chamão de selvages vidas; Humana carne comem, mas a sua Pintão com ferro ardente, usança crua." Lusiade, stanza 126. [305] "Mas na ponta da tierra Gingapura Veràs, onde o caminho às naos se estreyta, De aqui tornando a costa à Cynosura Se encurva, e para a Aurora se endereyta. Ves Pam, Patàne reynos, e alongura De Syão, que estes, e outros mays sogeyta. Olha o rio Menão, que se derrama Do grande lago, que Chiamay se chama." Lusiade, x, stanza 125. [306] The Lisbon edition has _sulia_, and explains the word in a note as translated above. [307] Encienço is the old word for ajenjo, absinthe, or it may be the old form of incenso, incense. [308] The English word to _fish_ a mast or fishing rod, comes from the Spanish word used here, fajar; anciently pronounced as the Catalan faixar, to wrap or wind a sash, to swathe. [309] Rattan. [310] Small coins, three ceutis make one blanca, an ancient coin. Escuela de leer letras Antiguas, p. 207: not in the dictionaries. [311] Kris. [312] This passage fixes the Hindu origin of running amok, which from this seems to have been connected with the worship of Shiva or Bhowani. Now it would be difficult to get any other explanation than that of _adet_, custom. [313] The Barcelona MS. has plainly Amuco, which is correct. Ramusio has Amulos, and the Lisbon edition Guanicio. [314] Thirty men according to other accounts. [315] Nicobar, Ortelius' map of Asia, and Nicovan in map of India; Ramusio, Navacar. [316] Medio _giorno_, Italian. [317] Samotra and Sumatra, Ortelius. [318] Pedir, Ortelius. [319] Biraen, Ortelius, on the north-west coast. [320] Pasem and Pazer, Ortelius; Passam, Homannus. [321] Camper, Ortelius and Homannus, between Siuk and Jambi. [322] Amdaragui, Ortelius; Andragari, Homannus; east coast. [323] Menancabo, Ortelius, south-west coast. [324] Sunda, Ortelius. [325] Ramusio has here translated south-east, the Lisbon edition has south-west. [326] Java Maior, Ortelius. It is still called Java Major by the Arabs. [327] Ramusio, Palevdora; Lisbon, Pateudru. [328] They look very like Crim Tatars. [329] Raydas. [330] Java Minor, Ortelius, now Bali, the inhabitants are still pagans; the island Sumbawa also in Ortelius is not the same as Java Minor, but apparently the one here called Oçare, as it contains a great volcano. Here Ramusio says some lines are wanting; he calls the island Oçare, Nucopora. [331] Timor, Ortelius:-- "Aly tambien Timor, que o lenho manda Sandalo salutifero, e cheyroso. Olha a Sunda tão larga, que humabanda Esconde para o Sul difficultuoso. A gente do sertão, que as torras anda, Hum rio diz que tem miraculoso, Que por onde elle so sem outro vae Converte em pedra o pao que nelle cae." Lusiad. x, stanza 134. [332] Bandan, Ortelius:-- "Olha do Bandá asilhas que se esmaltão Da varia cor, que pinta o rosco fruto, As aves, variadas, que aly saltão, Da verde Noz tomando seu tributo. Olha tambem Borneo, onde não faltaõ Lagrimas, no licor qualhado, e enxuto, Das arvores, que camphora he chamado Com que da ilha o nome he celebrado." Lusiad., 133. [333] Chapel is also the same as chapin, a slipper or sandal. [334] Ramusio, Ambon; Lisbon, Andam. [335] Molucos, Ortelius. [336] Bachian, Machian, Motir, Tidore, Tarenate, Ortelius; Bluteau's dictionary names them Bachan, Maquien, Moutel, Tidor, Ternate, and says they were anciently named Seque, Mara, Moutil, Duco, Gape. The only remaining possession of the Portuguese in the Malay Archipelago is Dili in the island of Timor. [337] Nury is the real name of Molucca parrots, which has been changed to loro and lori. Ramusio calls them mire, and the Lisbon ed. noire. [338] This section is not in the Lisbon MS. [339] The Bugis of Celebes still make the best krises. [340] Celebes, Ortelius. [341] This section is not in the Lisbon MS. [342] Ramusio and the Lisbon ed., Tendaya. Banguey island, north of Borneo, 7 deg. 13 min. N. lat. and 120 deg. 12 min. E. long.; 6-3/4 leagues long and 3-1/2 broad: it is desert. Geographical Dict., Barcelona, 1831. [343] The island now called Solor is in another direction E. of the island Flores, 8 deg. 30 min. S. lat. and 126 deg. 52 min. E. long. [344] Ramusio stops here and says several lines are wanting. [345] Borneo, Ortelius. [346] Champa, Ortelius and Homannus, the southern portion of Cochin China next to Cambodia; it is not an island as here stated. [347] Ramusio says three hundred maravedis, the Lisbon MS. says thirty or forty pardoes. [348] Borceguies--the Turkish mest. [349] There is a _no_, not, here in the manuscript, which seems to be put in by mistake; the Spanish idiom does not allow of adding another negative at the beginning of the sentence; the one negative alone makes nonsense, and is contrary to what has been said above. [350] A French missionary, quoted in the "Dictionnaire de la Conversation," does not believe this story, which he assumes to be invented for the sake of increasing the value of the porcelain. [351] The Liu Kiu Islands. Lequio major and minor, Y^{a.} Fermosa, and Reix magas, form a group in Ortelius: in Homannus Formosa is in its proper place, and the group is called Lequeyo or Riukiu Islands. [352] Here the Lisbon edition says that the manuscript of Duarte Barbosa ends, and that what follows about the precious stones has been translated from the Italian of Ramusio: this appendix about precious stones is wanting in the Munich MS. No. 570. [353] Martin Centurion according to the Munich MS. No. 571, where the name is given in full. [354] Fano, fanam, fanão--a weight for weighing rubies, according to Bluteau = 1 quilat or carat; according to the Dicco. Enciclopedico, Madrid, 1853, and the Encyclopedie of Diderot and D'Alembert = to 2 carats of Venice. Also a coin equal to two Spanish reals or twenty Portuguese reis, or ten of which made a cruzado. The author has said in another place that it is equal to thirty-six maravedis. The following table of coins will be useful with reference to the prices named in this work. Ducado = 375 maravedis. Dobla = 365 " Florin = 265 " Real = 34 " These maravedis were worth double those of the present time, in which a real contains 34 maravedis, so that a fanam would be worth 2 reals or half a peseta = 6d. The author of the Escuela de leer Letras Antiguas, from which these figures are taken, has added lists of prices at different times as guides to the value of coins. In 1348, law of Don John I. Fanega of wheat 15 maravedis. Ditto barley 10 " Ditto oats 8 " Cubit of French cloth 60 " Ditto Flanders or English cloth 50 " Day's wages from November to March 3 " Ditto ditto March to November 4 " Each yoke for ploughing all day 10 " A servant by the year 100 " A maid ditto 50 " For grinding a fanega of wheat 2 " A thousand tiles 60 " Ditto bricks 55 " A fanega of mortar 6 " Ditto lime 5 " An ox 200 " A calf 180 " A pound of mutton 2 " A hare 3 " A rabbit 2 " A fowl 4 " A goose 6 " A pigeon 3 " A partridge 5 " These maravedis were worth 22-1/2 actual maravedis, or about 2d. each. In 1524 the fanega of wheat was fixed at 70 maravedis. Ditto ditto of barley " 40 " These maravedis were worth two of the actual ones. 1865, a fanega of wheat = 50 reals. [355] A miskal. [356] A real de plata means two reals vellon, or actual reals of the present time. [357] Son bermejos y deslavados, y encarnados. [358] 65 in Ramusio. [359] Balassia in Ramusio. [360] Toque or proof. [361] Equal to a carat and a third. [362] These two names must be the same word Kringa-nila; blue stone, perhaps. In Ramusio, Quiniganilam. [363] Capucar in Ramusio. [364] A jour. [365] Exer in Ramusio. [366] Kerman. Chiraman, Ortelius. [367] In the MS. the passage reads _as mina y tierra seca_. [368] The _Times_ reviewer of Mr. Emmanuel's book _On Precious Stones_, April 5, 1866, is in error in saying that "the zircon is known in trade as the jacinth or hyacinth". The jargon, corindon or circon, which was much used in the xvi^{th} century, is not held in any estimation at the present time; it has the merit of possessing the hardness of the sapphire. [369] Mar Deignan in Ramusio. [370] I have been informed by Mr. Capt, jeweller, of Geneva, that the proportions of the prices of precious stones, according to their weight, are still very exact for uncut stones in the Indian market, and that the general accuracy of the details given in this MS. is very great. With respect to the doubts which had been expressed as to the stones of combined colours, they do exist, but are held in no estimation in Europe. Experiments have been made in Europe, and especially in Germany, for the purpose of deepening the colour of precious stones, particularly rubies, by the process here mentioned; but success was so hazardous, and so costly, that speculators would no longer incur the risks of it. [371] 6562 in Ramusio. [372] Beledin, of the country, local; Arabic. Ramusio has not translated it. [373] xl in Ramusio. [374] El peso del es el mayor. This may refer to the old and new weights, or it may mean that this ginger is heavier than the other ginger. [375] Syn enbarar. [376] Faratela, Indian weight equal to seven and a quarter pounds. Encicloped. Dict., Madrid, 1853. [377] Atincar, Anglicè tincal, when refined, borax. [378] Calamo aromático, also called acoro, a kind of aquatic plant used in medicine. [379] This may be either incense or wormwood. Incenso in Ramusio. [380] Lombriguera, southernwood, wormwood: Artemisia abrotanum. [381] Turbith, Convolvulus turpethum; its root is used as a purgative, and it comes from India and Ceylon. [382] Gum from the giant fennel: also called sagapeno, is known in commerce as yellowish white drops of a strong aromatic smell something like garlic; is used for diachylum. [383] Atulia, a sublimate of calamine. [384] Probably cubebs. [385] Or four hundredweight English. [386] Lo al, old Spanish. [387] This voyage is not in Ramusio nor in the Lisbon edition, and apparently has been hitherto unpublished. The Munich MS., No. 570, gives the date 1522, but 1512 is the correct reading. [388] Leste o este. [389] Surat glaized cotton stuff. [390] Sudueste and su sudueste, these terms have not been ever used in the body of the book. [391] Norueste. [392] Singaduras for Singladuras, Portuguese Singradura, derived by Bluteau from French Cingler, and that from the German Segelen. [393] Setentrional. [394] Del sur al sueste. [395] Or Colayres and giravales according to another reading. [396] Les nordeste. [397] This passage important. Los marineros q. tomamos en borney llevaban carta de marear e trayan una aguja y piedra yman e una carta en q. trayan muchas rayas e lineas de lo qual nos espantamos mucho. See the Pillars of Hercules, by D. Urquhart with respect to the Phenician compass. [398] Line across the forehead. 
34959	----	Transcriber's Notes: Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. Passages in bold are surrounded by =equal signs=. Passages in gothic fonts are surrounded by +plus signs+. Other transcription notes appear at the end of this e-text. KHALED: A TALE OF ARABIA [Illustration: M. M. & Co.] KHALED A Tale of Arabia BY F. MARION CRAWFORD +London+ MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1901 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT 1891 BY F. MARION CRAWFORD _First Edition (2 Vols. Globe 8vo) May 1891. Second Edition (1 Vol. Crown 8vo) November 1891, 1892 Re-issue 1901_ TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I 1 CHAPTER II 22 CHAPTER III 43 CHAPTER IV 64 CHAPTER V 86 CHAPTER VI 107 CHAPTER VII 128 CHAPTER VIII 150 CHAPTER IX 171 CHAPTER X 192 CHAPTER XI 213 CHAPTER XII 235 CHAPTER I Khaled stood in the third heaven, which is the heaven of precious stones, and of Asrael, the angel of Death. In the midst of the light shed by the fruit of the trees Asrael himself is sitting, and will sit until the day of the resurrection from the dead, writing in his book the names of those who are to be born, and blotting out the names of those who have lived their years and must die. Each of the trees has seventy thousand branches, each branch bears seventy thousand fruits, each fruit is composed of seventy thousand diamonds, rubies, emeralds, carbuncles, jacinths, and other precious stones. The stature and proportions of Asrael are so great that his eyes are seventy thousand days' journey apart, the one from the other. Khaled stood motionless during ten months and thirteen days, waiting until Asrael should rest from his writing and look towards him. Then came the holy night called Al Kadr, the night of peace in which the Koran came down from heaven. Asrael paused, and raising his eyes from the scroll saw Khaled standing before him. Asrael knew Khaled, who was one of the genii converted to the faith on hearing Mohammed read the Koran by night in the valley Al Nakhlah. He wondered, however, when he saw him standing in his presence; for the genii are not allowed to pass even the gate of the first heaven, in which the stars hang by chains of gold, each star being inhabited by an angel who guards the entrance against the approach of devils. Asrael looked at Khaled in displeasure, therefore, supposing that he had eluded the heavenly sentinels and concealed an evil purpose. But Khaled inclined himself respectfully. 'There is no Allah but Allah. Mohammed is the prophet of Allah,' he said, thus declaring himself to be of the Moslem genii, who are upright and are true believers. 'How camest thou hither?' asked Asrael. 'By the will of Allah, who sent his angel with me to the gate,' Khaled answered. 'I am come hither that thou mayest write down my name in the book of life and death, that I may be a man on earth, and after an appointed time thou shalt blot it out again and I shall die.' Asrael gazed at him and knew that this was the will of Allah, for the angels are thus immediately made conscious of the divine commands. He took up his pen to write, but before he had traced the first letter he paused. 'This is the night Al Kadr,' he said. 'If thou wilt, tell me therefore thy story, for I am now at leisure to hear it.' 'Thou knowest that I am of the upright genii,' Khaled answered, 'and I am well disposed towards men. In the city of Riad, in Arabia, there rules a powerful king, the Sultan of the kingdom of Nejed, blessed in all things save that he has no son to inherit his vast dominions. One daughter only has been born to him in his old age, of such marvellous beauty that even the Black Eyed Virgins enclosed in the fruit of the tree Sedrat, who wait for the coming of the faithful, would seem but mortal women beside her. Her eyes are as the deep water in the wells of Zobeideh when it is night and the stars are reflected therein. Her hair is finer than silk, red with henna, and abundant as the foliage of the young cypress tree. Her face is as fair as the kernels of young almonds, and her mouth is sweeter than the mellow date and more fragrant than 'Ood mingled with ambergris. She possesses moreover all the virtues which become women, for she is as modest as she is beautiful and as charitable as she is modest. From all parts of Arabia and Egypt, and from Syria and from Persia, and even from Samarkand, from Afghanistan, and from India princes and kings' sons continually come to ask her in marriage, for the fame of her beauty and of her virtues is as wide as the world. But her father, desiring only her happiness, leaves the choice of a husband to herself, and for a long time she refused all her suitors. For there is in the palace at Riad a certain secret chamber from which she can observe all those who come and hear their conversation and see the gifts which they bring with them. 'At last there came as a suitor an unbeliever, a prince of an island by the shores of India, beautiful as the moon, whose speech was honey, and who surpassed all the suitors in riches and in the magnificence of the presents he brought. For he came bearing with him a hundred pounds' weight of pure gold, and five hundred ounces of ambergris, and a great weight of musk and aloes and sandal wood, and rich garments without number, and many woven shawls of Kashmir, of which the least splendid was valued at a thousand sherifs of gold. An innumerable retinue accompanied him, and twenty elephants, and horses without number, besides camels. 'The Sultan's daughter beheld this beautiful prince from her secret hiding-place, and all that he had brought with him. The Sultan received him with kindness and hospitality, but assured him that unless he would renounce idolatry and embrace the true faith he could not hope to succeed in his purpose. Thereupon he was much cast down, and soon afterwards, having received magnificent gifts in his turn, he would have departed on his way, disappointed and heavy at heart. But Zehowah sent for her father and entreated him to bid the young prince remain. "For it is not impossible," she said, "that he may yet be converted to the true faith. And have I the right to refuse to sacrifice my freedom when the sacrifice may be the means of converting an idolater to the right way? And if I marry him and go with him to his kingdom, shall we not make true believers of all his subjects, so that I shall deserve to be called the mother of the faithful like Ayesha, beloved by the Prophet, upon whom be peace?" The Sultan found it hard to oppose this argument which was founded upon virtue and edified in righteousness. He therefore entreated the Indian prince to remain and to profess Islam, promising the hand of Zehowah when he should be converted. 'Then I heard the prince taking secret counsel with a certain old man who was with him, who shaved his face and wore white clothing and ate food which he prepared for himself alone. The prince told all, and then the old man counselled him in this way. "Speak whatsoever words they require of thee," he said, "for words are but garments wherewith to make the nakedness of truth modest and agreeable. And take the woman, and by and by, when we are returned to our own land, if she consent to worship thy gods, it is good; and if not, it is yet good, for thou shalt possess her as thy wife, and her unbelief shall be of consequence only to her own soul, but thy soul shall not be retarded in its progress." And the young prince was pleased, and promised to do as his counsellor advised him. 'So I saw that he was false and that Zehowah's righteousness would be but the means to her sorrow if she were allowed to persist. Therefore in the night, when all were asleep in the palace, I entered into the room where the prince was lying, and I took him in my arms and flew with him to the midst of the Red Desert, and there I slew him and buried him in the sand, for I saw that he was a liar and had determined to be a hypocrite. 'But Allah immediately sent an angel to destroy me because I had put to death a man who was about to become a believer, thereby killing his soul also, since he had not yet made profession of the faith. But I stood up and defended myself, saying that I had slain a hypocrite who had planned in his heart to carry away the daughter of a Moslem. Then the angel asked the truth of the prince's soul, which was sitting upon the red sand that covered the body. The soul answered, weeping, and said: "These are true words, and I am fuel for hell." "Have I then deserved death?" I asked. "I have killed an unbeliever." The angel answered that I had deserved life; and he would have left me and returned to paradise, but I would not let him go, and I besought him to entreat Allah that I might be allowed to live the life of a mortal man upon earth. "For," I said, "thou sayest that I deserve life. But even if thou destroy me not now I am only one of the genii, who shall all die at the first blast of the trumpet before the resurrection of the dead. Obtain for me therefore that I may have a soul and live a few years, and if I do good I shall then be with the faithful in paradise; and if not, I shall be bound with red-hot chains and burn everlastingly like a sinful man." The angel promised to intercede for me and departed. So I sat down upon the mound of red sand beside the soul of the Indian prince, to wait for the angel's coming again. 'Then the soul reproached me angrily. "But for thee," it said, "I should have married Zehowah and returned to my own people, and although I purposed to be a hypocrite, yet in time Zehowah might have convinced me and I should have believed in my heart. For I now see that there is no Allah but Allah, and that Mohammed is the prophet of Allah. And I should perhaps have died full of years, a good Moslem, and should have entered paradise. Therefore I pray Allah that this may be remembered in thy condemnation." At these words I was very angry and reviled the soul, scoffing at it. "No doubt Allah will hear thy prayer," I answered, "and will hear also at the same time thy lies. And as for Zehowah, thinkest thou that she would have loved thee, even if she had married thee? I tell thee that her soul rejoices only in the light of the faith, and that although she might have married thee, she would have done so in the hope of turning thy people from the worship of false gods and not for love of thee. For she will never love any man." When I had said this the soul groaned aloud and then remained silent. 'In a little while the angel came back, and I saw that his face was no longer clouded with anger. "Hear the judgment of Allah," he said. "Inasmuch as thou tookest the law upon thyself, which belonged to Allah alone, thou deservest to die. But in so far as thou hast indeed slain a hypocrite and an unbeliever thou hast earned life. Allah is just, merciful and forgiving. It is not meet that in thy lot there should be nothing but reward or nothing but punishment. Therefore thou shalt not yet receive a soul. Go hence to the third heaven and when the angel Asrael shall be at leisure he will write thy name in the book of the living. Then thou shalt return hither and go into the city of Riad bearing gifts. And Zehowah will accept thee in marriage, though she love thee not, for Allah commands that it be so. But if in the course of time this virtuous woman be moved to love, and say to thee, 'Khaled, I love thee,' then at that moment thou shalt receive an immortal soul, and if thy deeds be good thy soul shall enter paradise with the believers, but if not, thou shalt burn. Thus saith Allah. Thus art thou rewarded, indeed, but wisely and temperately, since thou hast not obtained life directly, but only the hope of life." Then the angel departed again, leading the way. 'But the soul mocked me. "Thou that sayest of Zehowah that she will never love any man, thou art fallen into thine own trap," it cried. "For now, if she love thee not thou must perish. Truly, Allah heard my prayer." But I was filled with thankfulness and departed after the angel, leaving the soul sitting alone upon the red sand. 'Thus have I told thee my history, O Asrael. And now I pray thee to write my name in the book of the living that I may fulfil the command of Allah and go my way to the city of Riad.' Then Asrael again took up his pen to write in the book. 'Now thou art become a living man, though thou hast as yet no soul,' he said. 'And thou art subject to death by the sword and by sickness and by all those evils which spring up in the path of the living. And the day of thy death is already known to Allah who knows all things. But he is merciful and will doubtless grant thee a term of years in which to make thy trial. Nevertheless be swift in thy journey and speedy in all thou doest, for though mortal man may live for ever hereafter in glory, his years on earth are but as the breath which springs up in the desert towards evening and is gone before the stars appear.' Khaled made a salutation before Asrael and went out of the third heaven, and passed through the second which is of burnished steel, and through the first in which the stars hang by golden chains, where Adam waits for the day of the resurrection, and at the gate he found the angel who had led him, and who now lifted him in his arms and bore him back to the Red Desert; for as he was now a mortal man he could no longer move through the air like the genii between the outer gate of heaven and the earth. Nor could he any longer see the soul of the Indian prince sitting upon the sand, though it was still there. But the angel was visible to him. So they stood together, and the angel spoke to him. 'Thou art now a mortal man,' he said, 'and subject to time as to death. To thee it seems but a moment since we went up together to the gate, and yet thou wast standing ten months and thirteen days before Asrael, and of the body of the man whom thou slewest only the bones remain.' So saying the angel blew upon the red sand and Khaled saw the white bones of the prince in the place where he had laid his body. So he was first made conscious of time. 'Nearly a year has passed, and though Allah be very merciful to thee, yet he will assuredly not suffer thee to live beyond the time of other men. Make haste therefore and depart upon thine errand. Yet because thou art come into the world a grown man, having neither father nor mother nor inheritance, I will give thee what is most necessary for thy journey.' Then the angel took a handful of leaves from a ghada bush close by and gave them to Khaled, and as he gave them they were changed into a rich garment, and into linen, and into a shawl with which to make a turban, and shoes of red leather. 'Clothe thyself with these,' said the angel. He broke a twig from the bush and placed it in Khaled's hand. Immediately it became a sabre of Damascus steel, in a sheath of leather with a belt. 'Take this sword, which is of such fine temper that it will cleave through an iron headpiece and a shirt of mail. But remember that it is not a sword made by magic. Let thy magic reside in thy arm, wield it for the faith, and put thy trust in Allah.' Afterwards the angel took up a locust that was asleep on the sand waiting for the warmth of the morning sun. The angel held the locust up before Khaled, and then let it fall. But as it fell it became at once a beautiful bay mare with round black eyes wide apart and an arching tail which swept down to the sand like a river of silk. 'Take this mare,' said the angel; 'she is of the pure breed of Nejed and as swift as the wind, but mortal like thyself.' 'But how shall I ride her without saddle or bridle?' asked Khaled. 'That is true,' answered the angel. He laid leaves of the ghada upon the mare's back and they became a saddle, and placed a twig in her mouth and it turned into a bit and bridle. Khaled thanked the angel and mounted. 'Farewell and prosper, and put thy trust in Allah, and forget not the day of judgment,' the angel said, and immediately returned to paradise. So Khaled was left alone in the Red Desert, a living man obliged to shift for himself, liable to suffer hunger and thirst or to be slain by robbers, with no worldly possessions but his sword, his bay mare, and the clothes on his back. He knew moreover that he was more than two hundred miles from the city of Riad, and he knew that he could not accomplish this journey in less than four days. For when he was one of the genii he had often watched men toiling through desert on foot, and on camels and on horses, and had laughed with his companions at the slow progress they made. But now it was no laughing matter, for he had forgotten to ask the angel for dates and water, or even for a few handfuls of barley meal. He turned the mare's head westward of the Goat, in which is the polar star, for he remembered that when he had carried away the Indian prince he had flown toward the south-east, and as he began to gallop over the dark sand he laughed to himself. 'What poor things are men and their horses,' he said. 'To destroy me, this mare need only stumble and lame herself, and we shall both die of hunger and thirst in the desert.' This reflection made him at first urge the mare to her greatest speed, for he thought that the sooner he should be out of the desert and among the villages beyond, the present danger would be passed. But presently he bethought him that the mare would be more likely to stumble and hurt herself in the dark if she were galloping than if she were moving at a moderate pace. He therefore drew bridle and patted her neck and made her walk slowly and cautiously forward. But this did not please him either, after a time, for he remembered that if he rode too slowly he must die of hunger before reaching the end of his journey. 'Truly,' he said, 'one must learn what it is to be a man, in order to understand the uses of moderation. Gallop not lest thy horse fall and thou perish! Nor delay walking slowly by the road, lest thou die of thirst and hunger! Yet thou art not safe, for Al Walid died from treading upon an arrow, and Oda ibn Kais perished by perpetual sneezing. Allah is just and merciful! I will let the mare go at her own pace, for the end of all things is known.' The mare, being left to herself, began to canter and carried Khaled onward all night without changing her gait. 'Nevertheless,' thought Khaled, 'if we are not soon out of the desert we shall suffer thirst during the day as well as hunger.' When there was enough daylight to distinguish a black thread from a white, Khaled looked before him and saw that there was nothing but red sand in hillocks and ridges, with ghada bushes here and there. But still the mare cantered on and did not seem tired. Soon the sun rose and it grew very hot, for the air was quite still and it was summer time. Khaled looked always before him and at last he saw a white patch in the distance and he knew that there must be water near it. For the water of the Red Desert whitens the sand. He therefore rode on cheerfully, for he was now thirsty, and the mare quickened her pace, for she also knew that she was near a drinking-place. But as they came close to the spot Khaled remembered that the preceding night had been Al Kadr, which falls between the seventh and eighth latter days of the month Ramadhan, during which the true believers neither eat nor drink so long as there is light enough to distinguish a white thread from a black one. So, when they reached the well, he let his mare drink her fill, and he took off the saddle and bridle and let her loose, after which he sat down with his head in the shade of a ghada bush to rest himself. 'Allah is merciful,' he said; 'the night will come, and then I will drink.' For he dared not ride farther, for fear of not finding water again. Then again he was disturbed, for he had nothing to eat, and he thought that if he waited until night he would be hungry as well as thirsty. But presently he saw the mare trying to catch the locusts that flew about. She could only catch one or two, because it was now hot and they were able to fly quickly. 'When the night comes,' he said, 'the locusts will lie on the ground and cling to the bushes, being stiff with the cold, and then I will eat my fill, and drink also.' Soon afterwards he fell asleep, being weary, and when he awoke it was night again and the stars were shining overhead. Khaled rose hastily and drank at the well and made ablutions and prayed, prostrating himself towards the Kebla. He remembered that he had slept a long time, and that he had not performed his devotions for a day and a night, so that he repeated them five times, to atone for the omission. The mare was eating the locusts that now lay in great black patches on the sand unable to move and save themselves. Khaled threw his cloak over a great number of them and gathered them together. Then he kindled a fire of ghada by striking sparks from the blade of his sword, and when he had made a bed of coals he roasted the locusts after pulling off their legs, and ate his fill. While he was doing this he was much disturbed in mind. 'I have only just begun to live as a man,' he thought. 'Did I not stand ten months and thirteen days in the third heaven, unconscious of the passing of time? Who shall tell me whether I have not slept another ten months or more under this bush, like the companions of Al Rakim?' So, when he had done eating and had drunk again from the well, and had made the mare drink, he saddled her quickly and mounted, and cantered on through the night, guiding his course by the stars. On the following day he again found a well, but much later than before, and he suffered much from thirst as he watched his mare dip her black lips into the pool. Nevertheless he would not break his fast, for he was resolved to be a true believer in practice as well as in belief. So he fell asleep and awoke when it was night again, and ate and drank. In this way he journeyed several days until he began to see the hill country which borders the desert towards Riad, and he understood that he had been much farther away than he had imagined. But he reflected that Allah had doubtless intended to try his constancy by imposing upon him the journey through the desert during the days of fasting. But at last, he awoke one day just at sunset, instead of sleeping until the night. He had been travelling up the first slopes where the ground, though barren, is harder than in the desert, and had lain down in a hollow by an abundant spring. He rose now and made ablutions and prayed, as usual, towards Mecca; that is to say, being where he was, he turned his face to the west as the sun was setting. When he had finished he stood some minutes watching the red light over the desert below him, and then he was suddenly aware that the new moon was hanging just above the diminishing fire of the evening, and he knew that the fast of Ramadhan was over and that the feast of Bairam had begun. Thereat he was glad, and determined to take an unusual number of locusts for his evening meal. But when he looked about he saw that there were no locusts in the place, though there was grass, which his mare was eating. Then he looked everywhere near the well to see whether some traveller had not perhaps dropped a few dates or a little barley by accident, but there was nothing. 'Doubtless,' he said, 'Allah wishes to show me that greediness is a sin even on the day of feasting.' He drank as much of the water as he could in order to stay his hunger as well as assuage his thirst, and then he saddled the mare and rode up out of the hollow towards the hill country. Towards the middle of the night he came to a small village where all the people were celebrating the feast, having killed a young camel and several sheep. Seeing that he was a traveller they bade him be welcome, and he sat down among them and ate his fill of meat, praising Allah. And corn was given to his mare, so that the dumb animal also kept the feast. 'Truly,' said the people, 'thy mare is a daughter of Al Borak, the heavenly steed called "the Lightning," upon which the nocturnal journey was accomplished by the Prophet, upon whom be peace.' They said this not because they divined that the mare had been given to Khaled by an angel, but because they saw by her beauty that she must be swift as the wind. For she had a large head, with bony cheeks, and a full forehead and round black eyes wide apart, with smooth black skin about them, and a pointed nose, and the under lip was like that of a camel, projecting a little. And she was neither too long nor too short, having straight legs like steel, and small feet and round hoofs, neither overgrown in idleness nor overworn with much work. And her tail lay flat and long and smooth when she was standing still but arched like the plume of an ostrich when she moved. Her coat was bright bay, glossy and smooth and without any white markings. By all these signs, which belong to the purest blood, the people of the village knew that she was of the fleetest reared in Arabia. And Khaled was glad that the people admired her, since she was the chief of his few possessions, which indeed were not many. He did not know beforehand what he should do, nor what he should say when in the presence of the Sultan of Nejed, still less how he could venture to ask Zehowah in marriage, having no gifts to offer and not being himself a prince. Before he had become a man it would have been easy for him to find treasures in the earth such as men had never seen, for, like all the genii, he had been acquainted with the most deeply hidden mines and with all places where men had hidden wealth in old times. But this knowledge does not belong to the intelligence becoming mortals, but rather to the faculty of seeing through solid substance which is exercised by the spirits of the air, and in his present state it was taken from him, together with all possibility of communicating with his former companions. He had nothing but his mare and his sword and the garments he wore, and though the mare was indeed a gift for a king he did not know whether he was meant to offer it to any one, seeing that it had been given him by an angel. Nevertheless he did not lose heart, for the celestial messenger had told him that by the will of Allah he should marry Zehowah, and Allah was certainly able to give him a king's daughter in marriage without the aid of gifts, of gold, of musk, of 'Ood, of aloes or of pearls. He rose, therefore, when he had eaten enough and had rested himself and his mare, and after thanking the people of the village for their entertainment he rode on his way. He passed through a hill country, sometimes fertile and sometimes stony and deserted, but he found water by the way and such food as he needed; and accomplished the remainder of the journey without hindrance. On the morning of the second day he came to a halting-place from which he could see the city of Riad, and he was astonished at the size and magnificence of the Sultan's palace, which was visible above the walls of the fortification. Yet he was aware that he had seen all this before as in a dream not altogether forgotten when a man wakes at dawn after a long and restless night. He gazed awhile, after he had made his ablutions, and then calling to his mare to come to him, he mounted and rode through the southern gate into the heart of the city. CHAPTER II When Khaled reached the palace he dismounted from his mare, and leading her by the bridle entered the gateway. Here he met many persons, guards, and slaves both black and white, and porters bearing provisions, and a few women, all hurrying hither and thither; and many noticed him, but a few gazed curiously into his face, and two or three grooms followed him a little way, pointing out to each other the beauties of his mare. 'Truly,' they said, 'if we did not know the mares of the stud better than the faces of our mothers, we should swear by Allah that this beast had been stolen from the Sultan's stables by a thief in the night, for she is of the best blood in Nejed.' These being curious they saluted Khaled and asked him whence he came and whither he was going, seeing that it is not courteous to ask a stranger any other questions. 'I come from the Red Desert,' Khaled answered, 'and I am going into the palace as you see.' The grooms saw that there was a rebuke in the last part of his answer and hung back and presently went their way. 'Are such mares bred in the Red Desert?' they exclaimed. 'The stranger is doubtless the sheikh of some powerful tribe. But if this be true, where are the men that came with him? And why is he dressed like a man of the city?' So they hastened out of the gateway to find the Bedouins who, they supposed, must have accompanied Khaled on his journey. But Khaled went forward and came to a great court in which were stone seats by the walls. Here a number of people were waiting. So he sat down upon one of the seats and his mare laid her nose upon his shoulder as though inquiring what he would do. 'Allah knows,' Khaled said, as though answering her. So he waited patiently. At last a man came out into the courtyard who was richly dressed, and whom all the people saluted as he passed. But he came straight towards Khaled, who rose from his seat. 'Whence come you, my friend?' he inquired after they had exchanged the salutation. 'From the Red Desert, and I desire permission to speak with the Sultan when it shall please his majesty to see me.' 'And what do you desire of his majesty? I ask that I may inform him beforehand. So you will have a better reception.' 'Tell the Sultan,' said Khaled, 'that a man is here who has neither father nor mother nor any possessions beyond a swift mare, a keen sword and a strong hand, but who is come nevertheless to ask in marriage Zehowah, the Sultan's daughter.' The minister smiled and gazed at Khaled in silence for a moment, but when he had looked keenly at his face, he became grave. 'It may be,' he thought, 'that this is some great prince who comes thus simply as in a disguise, and it were best not to anger him.' 'I will deliver your message,' he answered aloud, 'though it is a strange one. It is customary for those who come to ask for a maiden in marriage to bring gifts--and to receive others in return,' he added. 'I neither bring gifts nor ask any,' said Khaled. 'Allah is great and will provide me with what I need.' 'I fear that he will not provide you with the Sultan's daughter for a wife,' said the minister as he went away, but Khaled did not hear the words, though he would have cared little if he had. Now it chanced that Zehowah was sitting in a balcony surrounded with lattice, over the courtyard, on that morning and she had seen Khaled enter, leading his mare by the bridle. But though she watched the stranger and his beast idly for some time she thought as little of the one as of the other, for her heart was not turned to love, and she knew nothing of horses. But her women thought differently and spoke loudly, praising the beauty of both. 'There is indeed a warrior able to fight in the front of our armies,' they said. 'Truly such a man must have been Khaled ibn Walad, the Sword of the Lord, in the days of the Prophet--upon whom peace.' By and by there was a cry that the Sultan was coming into the room, and the women rose and retired. The Sultan sat down upon the carpet by his daughter, in the balcony. 'Do you see that stranger, holding a beautiful mare by the bridle?' he asked. 'Yes, I see him,' answered Zehowah indifferently. 'He is come to ask you in marriage.' 'Another!' she exclaimed with a careless laugh. 'If it is the will of Allah I will marry him. If not, he will go away like the rest.' 'This man is not like the rest, my daughter. He is either a madman or some powerful prince in disguise.' 'Or both, perhaps,' laughed Zehowah. She laughed often, for although she was not inclined to love, she was of a gentle and merry temper. 'His message was a strange one,' said the Sultan. 'He says that he neither brings gifts nor asks them, that he has neither father nor mother, nor any possessions excepting a swift mare, a keen sword and a strong hand.' 'I see the mare, the sword and the hand,' answered Zehowah. 'But the hand is like any other hand--how can I tell whether it be strong? The sword is in its sheath, and I cannot see its edge, and though the mare is pretty enough, I have seen many of your own I liked as well. The elephants of the Indian prince were more amusing, and the prince himself was more beautiful than this stranger with his black beard and his solemn face.' 'That is true,' said the Sultan with a sigh. 'Do you wish me to marry this man?' Zehowah asked. 'My daughter, I wish you to choose of your own free will. Nevertheless I trust that you will choose before long, that I may see my child's children before I die.' For the Sultan was old and white-bearded, and was already somewhat bowed with advancing years and with burden of many cares and the fatigues of many wars. Yet his eye was bright and his heart fearless still, though his judgment was often weak and vacillating. 'Do you wish me to marry this man?' Zehowah asked again. 'He will be a strange husband, for he is a strange suitor, coming without gifts and having neither father nor mother. But I will do as you command. If you leave it to me I shall never marry.' 'I did not say that I desired you to take this one especially,' protested the Sultan, 'though for the matter of gifts I care little, since heaven has sent me wealth in abundance. But my remaining years are few, and the years of life are like stones slipping from a mountain which move slowly at first, and then faster until they outrun the lightning and leap into the dark valley below. And what is required of a husband is that he be a true believer, young and whole in every part, and of a charitable disposition.' 'Truly,' laughed Zehowah, 'if he have no possessions, charity will avail him little, since he has nothing to give.' 'There is other charity besides the giving of alms, my daughter, since it is charity even to think charitably of others, as you know. But I have not said that you should marry this man, for you are free. And indeed I have not yet talked with him. But I have sent for him and you shall hear him speak. See--they are just now conducting him to the hall of audiences. But indeed I think he is no husband for you, after all.' The Sultan rose and went to receive Khaled, and Zehowah went to the secret window above her father's raised seat in the hall. Khaled made the customary salutation with the greatest respect, and the Sultan made him sit down at his right hand as though he had been a prince, and asked him whence he had come. Then a refreshment was brought, and Khaled ate and drank a little, after which the Sultan inquired his business. 'I come,' said Khaled boldly, 'to ask your daughter Zehowah in marriage. I bring no gifts, for I have none to offer, nor have I any inheritance. My mare is my fortune, my sword is my argument and my wit is in my arm.' 'You are a strange suitor,' said the Sultan; but he kept a pleasant countenance, since Khaled was his guest. 'You are no doubt the sheikh of a tribe of the Red Desert, though I was not aware that any tribes dwelt there.' 'So far as being the sheikh of my tribe,' said Khaled with a smile, 'your majesty may call me so, for my tribe consists of myself alone, seeing that I have neither father nor mother nor any relations.' 'Truly, I have never talked with such a suitor before,' answered the Sultan. 'At least I presume that you are a son of some prince, and that you have chosen to disguise yourself as a rich traveller and to hide your history under an allegory.' The Sultan would certainly not have allowed himself to overstep the bounds of courtesy so far, but for his astonishment at Khaled's daring manner. He was too keen, however, not to see that this man was something above the ordinary and that, whatever else he might be, he was not a common impostor. Such a fellow would have found means to rob a caravan of valuable goods, to offer as gifts, would have brought himself a train of camels and slaves and would have given himself out as a prince of some distant country from which it would not be possible to obtain information. 'Istaghfir Allah! I am no prince,' Khaled answered. 'I ask for the hand of your daughter. The will of Allah will be accomplished.' He knew that Zehowah was watching and listening behind the lattice in her place of concealment, for the memory of such things had not been taken from him when he had lost the supernatural vision of the genii and had become an ordinary man. He was determined therefore to be truthful and to say nothing which he might afterwards be called upon to explain. For he never doubted but that Zehowah would be his wife, since the angel had told him that it should be so. 'And what if I refuse even to consider your proposal?' inquired the Sultan, to see what he would say. 'If it is the will of Allah that I marry your daughter, your refusal would be useless, but if it is not his will, your refusal would be altogether unnecessary.' The Sultan was much struck by this argument which showed a ready wit in the stranger and which he could only have opposed by asserting that his own will was superior to that of heaven itself. 'But,' said he, defending himself, 'any of the previous suitors might have said the same.' 'Undoubtedly,' replied Khaled, unabashed. 'But they did not say it. Your majesty will certainly now consider the matter.' 'In the meanwhile,' the Sultan answered, very graciously, 'you are my guest, and you have come in time to take part in the third day of the feast, to which you are welcome in the name of Allah, the merciful.' Thereupon the Sultan rose and Khaled was conducted to the apartments set apart for the guests. But the Sultan returned to the harem in a very thoughtful mood, and before long he found Zehowah who had returned to her seat in the balcony. 'This is a very strange suitor,' he said, shaking his head and looking into his daughter's face. 'He is at least bold and outspoken,' she answered. 'He makes no secret of his poverty nor of his wishes. Whatever he be, he is in earnest and speaks truth. I would like well to know the only secret which he wishes to keep--who he really is.' 'It may be,' said the Sultan thoughtfully, 'that if I threaten to cut off his head he will tell us. But on the other hand, he is a guest.' 'He is not of those who are easily terrified, I think. Tell me, my father, do you wish me to marry him?' 'How could you marry a man who has no family and no inheritance? Would such a marriage befit the daughter of kings?' 'Why not?' asked Zehowah with much calmness. The Sultan stared at her in astonishment. 'Has this stranger enchanted your imagination?' he inquired by way of answer. 'No,' replied Zehowah scornfully. 'I have seen the noblest, the most beautiful and the richest of the earth, ready to take me to wife, and I have not loved. Shall I love an outcast?' 'Then how can you ask my wishes?' 'Because there are good reasons why I should marry this man.' 'Good reasons? In the name of Allah let me hear them, if there are any.' 'You are old, my father,' said Zehowah, 'and it has not pleased heaven to send you a son, nor to leave you any living relation to sit upon the throne when your years are accomplished. You must needs think of your successor.' 'The better reason for choosing some powerful prince, whose territory shall increase the kingdom he inherits from me, and whose alliance shall strengthen the empire I leave behind me.' 'Istaghfir Allah! The worse reason. For such a prince would be attached to his own country, and would take me thither with him and would neglect the kingdom of Nejed, regarding it as a land of strangers whom he may oppress with taxes to increase his own splendour. And this is not unreasonable, since no king can wisely govern two kingdoms separated from each other by more than three days' journey. No man can have other than the one of two reasons for asking me in marriage. Either he has heard of me and desires to possess me, or he wishes to increase his dominions by the inheritance which will be mine.' 'Doubtless, this is the truth,' said the Sultan. 'But so much the more does this stranger in all probability covet my kingdom, since he has nothing of his own.' 'This is what I mean. For, having no other possessions to distract his attention, he will remain always here, and will govern your kingdom for its own advantage in order that it may profit himself.' 'This is a subtle argument, my daughter, and one requiring consideration.' 'The more so because the man seems otherwise well fitted to be my husband, since he is a true believer, and young, and fearless and outspoken.' 'But if this is all,' objected the Sultan, 'there are in Nejed several young men, sons of my chief courtiers, who possess the same qualifications. Choose one of them.' 'On the contrary, to choose one of them would arouse the jealousy of all the rest, with their families and slaves and freedmen, whereby the kingdom would easily be exposed to civil war. But if I take a stranger it is more probable that all will be for him, since you are beloved, and there is no reason why one party should oppose him and another support him, since none of them know anything of him.' 'But he will not be beloved by the people unless he is liberal, and he has nothing wherewith to be generous.' 'And where are the treasures of Riad?' laughed Zehowah. 'Is it not easy for you to go secretly to his chamber and to give him as much gold as he needs?' 'That is also true. I see that you have set your heart upon him.' 'Not my heart, my father, but my head. For I have infinitely more head than heart, and I see that the welfare of the kingdom will be better secured with such a ruler, than it would have been under a foreign prince whose right hand would be perpetually thrust out to take in Nejed that which his left hand would throw to courtiers in his own country. Do I speak wisdom or folly?' 'It is neither all folly nor all wisdom.' 'I have seen this man, I have heard him speak,' said Zehowah. 'He is as well as another since I must marry sooner or later. Moreover I have another argument.' 'What is that?' 'Either he is a man strong enough to rule me, or he is not,' Zehowah answered with a laugh. 'If he can govern me, he can govern the kingdom of Nejed. But if not I will govern it for him, and rule him also.' The Sultan looked up to heaven and slightly raised his hands from his knees. 'Allah is merciful and forgiving!' he exclaimed. 'Is this the spirit befitting a wife?' 'Is it charity to cause happiness?' 'Undoubtedly it is charity.' 'And which is greater, the happiness of many or the happiness of one?' 'The happiness of many is greater,' answered the Sultan. 'What then?' he asked after a time, seeing that she said nothing more. 'I have spoken,' she replied. 'It is best that I should marry him.' Then there was silence for a long time, during which the Sultan sat quite motionless in his place, watching his daughter, while she looked idly through the lattice at the people who came and went in the court below. She seemed to feel no emotion. The Sultan did not know how to oppose Zehowah's will any more than he could answer her arguments, although his worldly wisdom was altogether at variance with her decision. For she was the beloved child of his old age and he could refuse her nothing. Moreover, in what she had said, there was much which recommended itself to his judgment, though by no means enough to persuade him. At last he rose from the carpet and embraced her. 'If it is your will, let it be so,' he said. 'It is the will of Allah,' answered Zehowah. 'Let it be accomplished immediately.' With a sigh the Sultan withdrew and sent a messenger to Khaled requesting him to come to another and more secluded chamber, where they could be alone and talk freely. Khaled showed no surprise on hearing that his suit was accepted, but he thought it fitting to express much gratitude for the favourable decision. Then the Sultan, who did not wish to seem too readily yielding, began to explain to Khaled Zehowah's reasons for accepting a poor stranger, presenting them as though they were his own. 'For,' he said, 'whatever you may in reality be, you have chosen to present yourself to us in such a manner as would not have failed to bring about a refusal under any other circumstances. But I have considered that as it will be your destiny, if heaven grants you life, to rule my kingdom after me, you will in all likelihood rule it more wisely and carefully, for having no other cares in a distant country to distract your attention; and because you have no relations you are the less liable to the attacks of open or secret jealousy.' The Sultan then gave him a large sum of money in gold pieces, which Khaled gladly accepted, since he had not even wherewithal to buy himself a garment for the wedding feast, still less to distribute gifts to the courtiers and to the multitude. The Sultan also presented him with a black slave to attend to his personal wants. Khaled then sent for merchants from the bazar, and they brought him all manner of rich stuffs, such as he needed. There came also two tailors, who sat down upon a matting in his apartment and immediately began to make him clothes, while the black slave sat beside them and watched them, lest they should steal any of the gold of the embroideries. When it was known in the palace that the Sultan's only daughter was to be married at once, there were great rejoicings, and many camels were slaughtered and a great number of sheep, to supply food for so great a feast. A number of cooks were hired also to help those who belonged to the palace, for although the Sultan fed daily more than three hundred persons, guests, travellers, and poor, besides all the members of the household, yet this was as nothing compared with the multitude to be provided for on the present occasion. Then it was that Hadji Mohammed, the chief of the cooks, sat down upon the floor in the midst of the main kitchen and beat his breast and wept. For the confusion was great so that the voice of one man could not be heard for the diabolical screaming of the many, and the cooks smote the young lads who helped them, and these, running to escape from the blows, fell against the porters who came in from outside bearing sacks of sugar, and great baskets of fruit and quarters of meat and skins of water, and bushels of meal and a hundred other things equally necessary to the cooking; and the porters, staggering under their burdens, fell between the legs of the mules loaded with firewood, that had been brought to the gate, and the dumb beasts kicked violently in all directions, while the slaves who drove them struck them with their staves, and the mules began to run among the camels, and the camels, being terrified, rose from the ground and began to plunge and skip like young foals, while more porters and more mules and more slaves came on in multitudes to the door of the kitchen. And it was very hot, for it was noontide, and in summer, and there were flies without number, and the dogs that had been sleeping in the shade sprang up and barked loudly and bit whomsoever they could reach, and all the men bellowed together, so that the confusion was extreme. 'Verily,' cried Hadji Mohammed, 'this is not a kitchen but Yemamah, and I am not the chief of the cooks, but the chief of sinners and fuel for hell.' So he wept bitterly and beat his breast. But at last matters mended, for there were many who were willing to do well, so that when the time came Hadji Mohammed was able to serve an honourable feast to all, though the number of the guests was not less than two thousand. But Khaled, having visited the bath, arrayed himself magnificently and rode upon his bay mare to the mosque, surrounded by the courtiers and the chief officers of the state, and by a great throng of slaves from the palace. As he rode, he scattered gold pieces among the people from the bags which he carried, and all praised his liberality and swore by Allah that Zehowah was taking a very goodly husband. And as none knew whence he came, all were equally pleased, but most of all the Bedouins from the desert, of whom there were many at that time in Riad, who had come to keep the feast Bairam, for Khaled's own words had been repeated, and they had heard that he came from the desert like themselves. And when he had finished his prayers, he rode back to the palace. When the time for the feast came the Sultan led Khaled into the great hall and made him sit at his right hand. The Sultan himself was magnificently dressed and covered with priceless jewels, so that he shone like the sun among all the rest. Then he presented Khaled to the assembly. 'This,' said he, 'is Khaled, my beloved son-in-law, the husband of my only daughter, whom it has pleased Allah to send me, as the stay of my old age and as the successor to my kingdom. He will be terrible in war as Khaled ibn Walid, his namesake, the Sword of the Lord, and gentle and just in peace as Abu Bakr of blessed memory. He is as brave as the lion, as strong as the camel, as swift as the ostrich, as sagacious as the fox and as generous as the pelican, who feeds her young with the blood of her own breast. Love him therefore, as you have loved me, for he is extremely worthy of affection, and hate his enemies and be faithful to him in the time of danger. By the blessing of Allah he shall rear up children to me in my old age, to be with you when he is gone.' Thereupon Khaled turned and answered, speaking modestly but with much dignity in his manner. 'Ye men of Nejed, this is my marriage feast and I invite you all to be merry with me. Whether it shall please Allah to give me a long life, or whether it shall please him to take me this night I know not. We are in the hand of Allah. But this I do know. I will love you as my own people, seeing that I have no people of my own. I will fight for you as a man fights for his own soul, for his wife and for his children, and I will divide justly the spoils in war, and give in peace whatsoever I am able, to all those who are in need. I swear by Allah! You are all witnesses.' The courtiers and all the guests were much pleased with this short speech, for they saw that Khaled was a man of few words and not proud or overbearing, and none could look into his face and doubt his promise. For the present moment at least Zehowah's prediction had been verified, for no one was jealous of him, and there was but one party among them all and that was for him. So they all feasted together in harmony until the sun was low. In the meantime Zehowah remained in the harem, surrounded by her women, and a separate meal was brought to them. They all sat upon the rich carpets leaning on cushions set against the walls, and small low tables were brought in, covered with dishes and bowls containing delicately prepared rice and mutton in great abundance and fresh blanket bread, hot from the stones, and olives brought from Syria. Afterwards came sweetmeats without number, such as Hadji Mohammed knew how to prepare, and gold and silver goblets filled with a drink made from large sweet lemons and water, which is called 'treng.' Zehowah indeed ate sparingly, for she was accustomed to such dainties every day, but her women were delighted with the abundance and left nothing to be taken away. While they were eating six of the women played upon musical instruments by turns, while others danced slow and graceful measures, singing as they moved, and describing the unspeakable happiness which awaited their princess in marriage. Afterwards when the tables had been taken away and they had washed their hands with rose water from Ajjem, Zehowah commanded the singing and the dancing to cease, and the women brought her one by one the dresses which she was to wear before Khaled. They were very magnificent, for it had needed many years to prepare them, and a great weight of gold and silver threads had been weighed out to the tailors and embroiderers who had worked in the preparation of them ever since Zehowah had been two years old. For the piece of material is weighed first, and then the gold, and afterwards, when the work is finished, the whole is weighed together, lest the tailors should steal anything. But Zehowah looked coldly at the garments, one after the other, as they were brought and taken away, and the women fancied that she was to be married to the stranger against her will, and that she remembered the Indian prince. 'It is a pity,' one of them ventured to say, 'that the bridegroom has not brought any elephants with him, for we would have watched them from the balconies, since they are diverting beasts.' 'And it is a pity,' said Zehowah scornfully, 'that my husband has not a round, soft face, like the moon in May, and the eyes of a gazelle and the heart of a hare. Truly, such a one would have made you a good king, seeing that he was also an unbeliever!' 'Nay,' said the woman humbly, 'Allah forbid that I should make a comparison, or bring an ill omen on the day by speaking of that which chanced a year ago. Truly, I only spoke of elephants, and not of men. For, surely, we all said when we saw him in the court that he looked a brave warrior and a goodly man.' Then a messenger came from the Sultan saying that it was time to make ready. So they went to another apartment, where the nuptial chamber had been prepared. The Sultan came, then, leading Khaled, and followed by the Kadi, and all the women veiled themselves while the latter read the declaration of marriage. After that they all withdrew and Khaled took his seat upon the high couch in the middle of the room. Presently all the women returned, unveiled, with loud singing and playing of instruments, leading Zehowah dressed in the first of the dresses which she was to put on, and which, though it was very splendid, was of course the least magnificent of all those which had been prepared. But Khaled sat in his place looking on quietly, for he was acquainted with the custom, and he cared little for the rich garments, but looked always into Zehowah's face. CHAPTER III Khaled sat with his sword upon his feet, and when Zehowah was not in the room he played with the hilt and thought of all that was happening. 'Truly,' he said to himself, 'Allah is great. Was I not, but a few days since, one of the genii condemned to perish at the day of the resurrection? And am I not now a man, married to the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and the wisest and the best, needing only to be loved by her in order to obtain an undying soul? And why should this woman not love me? Truly, we shall see before long, when this mummery is finished.' So he sat on the couch while Zehowah was led before him again and again each time in clothing more splendid than before, and each time with new songs and new music. But at the last time the attendants left her standing before him and went away, and only a very old woman remained at the door, screaming out in a cracked voice the customary exhortations. Then she, too, went away and the door was shut and Khaled and Zehowah were alone. It was now near the middle of the night. The chamber was large and high, lighted by a number of hanging lamps such as are made in Bagdad, of brass perforated with beautiful designs and filled with coloured glasses, in each of which a little wick floats upon oil. Upon the walls rich carpets were hung, both Arabian and Persian, some taken in war as booty, and some brought by merchants in time of peace. A brass chafing dish stood at some distance from the couch, and upon the coals the women had thrown powdered myrrh and benzoin before they went away. But Khaled cared little for these things, since he had seen all the treasures of the earth in their most secret depositories. Zehowah had watched him narrowly during the ceremony of the dresses and had seen that he felt no surprise at anything which was brought before him. 'His own country must be full of great wealth and magnificence,' she thought, 'since so much treasure does not astonish him.' And she was disappointed. Now that they were alone, he still sat in silence, gazing at her as she stood beside him, and not even thinking of any speech, for he was overcome and struck dumb by her eyes. 'You are not pleased with what I have shown you,' Zehowah said at last in a tone of displeasure and disappointment. 'And yet you have seen the wealth of my father's palace.' 'I have seen neither wealth nor treasure, neither rich garments, nor precious stones nor chains of gold nor embroideries of pearls,' Khaled answered slowly. But Zehowah frowned and tapped the carpet impatiently with her foot where she stood, for she was annoyed, having expected him to praise the beauty of her many dresses. 'They who have eyes can see,' she said. 'But if you are not pleased, my father will give me a hundred dresses more beautiful than these, and pearls and jewels without end.' 'I should not see them,' Khaled replied. 'I have seen two jewels which have dazzled me so that I can see nothing else.' Zehowah gazed at him with a look of inquiry. 'I have seen the eyes of Zehowah,' he continued, 'which are as the stars Sirius and Aldebaran, when they are over the desert in the nights of winter. What jewels can you show me like these?' Then Zehowah laughed softly and sat down beside her husband on the edge of the couch. 'Nevertheless,' she said, 'the dresses are very rich. You might admire them also.' 'I will look at them when you are not near me, for then my sight will be restored for other things.' Khaled took her hand in his and held it. 'Tell me, Zehowah, will you love me?' he asked in a soft voice. 'You are my lord and my master,' she answered, looking modestly downward, and her hand lay quite still. She was so very beautiful that as Khaled sat beside her and looked at her downcast face, and knew that she was his, he could not easily believe that she was cold and indifferent to him. 'By Allah!' he thought, 'can it be so hard to get a woman's love? Truly, I think she begins to love me already.' Zehowah looked up and smiled carelessly as though answering his question, but Khaled was obliged to admit in his heart that the answer lacked clearness, for he found it no easier to interpret a woman's smile than men had found it before him, and have found it since, even to this day. 'You have had many suitors,' he said at last, 'and it is said that your father has given you your own free choice, allowing you to see them and hear them speak while he was receiving them. Tell me why you have chosen me rather than the rest, unless it is because you love me? For I came with empty hands, and without servants or slaves, or retinue of any kind, riding alone out of the Red Desert. It was therefore for myself that you took me.' 'You are right. It was for yourself that I took you.' 'Then it was for love of me, was it not?' 'There were and still are many and good reasons,' answered Zehowah calmly, and at the same time withdrawing her hand from his and smoothing back the black hair from her forehead. 'I told them all to my father, and he was convinced.' 'Tell them to me also,' said Khaled. So she explained all to him in detail, making him see everything as she saw it herself. And the explanation was so very clear, that Khaled felt a cold chill in his heart as he understood that she had chosen him rather for politic reasons, than because she wished him for her husband. 'And yet,' she added at the end, 'it was the will of Allah, for otherwise I would not have chosen you.' 'But surely,' he said, somewhat encouraged by these last words, 'there was some love in the choice, too.' 'How can I tell!' she exclaimed, with a little laugh. 'What is love?' Finding himself confronted by such an amazing question, Khaled was silent, and took her hand again. For though many have asked what love is, no one has ever been able to find an answer in words to satisfy the questioner, seeing that the answer can have no more to do with words than love itself, a matter sufficiently explained by a certain wise man, who understood the heart of man. If, said he, a man who loves a woman, or a woman who loves a man could give in words the precise reason why he or she loves, then love itself could be defined in language; but as no man or woman has ever succeeded in doing this, I infer that they who love best do not themselves know in what love consists--still less therefore can any one else know, wherefore the definition is impossible, and no one need waste time in trying to find it. A certain wit has also said that although it be impossible for any man to explain the nature of love to many persons at the same time, he generally finds it easy to make his explanations to one person only. But this is a mere quibbling jest and not deserving of any attention. Zehowah expected an answer to her question, and Khaled was silent, not because he was as yet too little acquainted with the feelings of a man to give them expression, but because he already felt so much that it was hard for him to speak at all. Zehowah laughed and shook her head, for she was not of a timid temper. 'How can you expect me to say that I love you, when you yourself are unable to answer such a simple question?' she asked. 'And besides, are you not my lord and my master? What is it then to you, whether I love you or not?' But again Khaled was silent, debating whether he should tell her the truth, how the angel had promised in Allah's name that if she loved him he should obtain an undying soul, and how the task of obtaining her love had been laid upon him as a sort of atonement for having slain the Indian prince. But as he reflected he understood that this would probably estrange her all the more from him. 'Yet I can answer your question,' he said at last. 'What is love? It is that which is in me for you only.' 'But how am I to know what that is?' asked Zehowah, drawing up the smooth gold bracelets upon her arm and letting them fall down to her wrist, so that they jangled like a camel's bell. 'If you love me you will know,' Khaled answered, 'for then, perhaps, you will feel a tenth part of what I feel.' 'And why not all that you feel?' she asked, looking at him, but still playing with the bracelets. 'Because it is impossible for any woman to love as much as I love you, Zehowah.' 'You mean, perhaps, that a woman is too weak to love so well,' she suggested. 'And you think, perhaps, that we are weak because we sit all our lives upon the carpets in the harem eating sweetmeats, and listening to singing girls and to old women who tell us tales of long ago. Yet there have been strong women too--as strong as men. Kenda, who tore out the heart of Kamsa--was she weak?' 'Women are stronger to hate than to love,' said Khaled. 'But a man can forget his hatred in the love of a woman, and his strength also,' laughed Zehowah. 'I would rather that you should not love me at all, than that you should forget to be strong in the day of battle. For I have married you that you may lead my people to war and bring home the spoil.' 'And if I destroy all your enemies and the enemies of your people, will you love me then, Zehowah?' 'Why should I love you then, more than now? What has war to do with love? Again, I ask, what is it to you whether I love you or not? Am I not your wife, and are you not my master? What is this love of which you talk? Is it a rich garment that you can wear? A precious stone that you can fasten in your turban? A rich carpet to spread in your house? A treasure of gold, a mountain of ambergris, a bushel of pearls from Oman? Why do you covet it? Am I not beautiful enough? Then is love henna to make my hair bright, or kohl to darken my eyes, or a boiled egg with almonds to smooth my face? I have all these things, and ointments from Egypt, and perfumes from Syria, and if I am not beautiful enough to please you, it is the will of Allah, and love will not make me fairer.' 'Yet love is beauty,' Khaled answered. 'For Kadijah was lovely in the eyes of the Prophet, upon whom be peace, because she loved him, though she was a widow and old.' 'Am I a widow? Am I old?' asked Zehowah with some indignation. 'Do I need the imaginary cosmetic you call love to smooth my wrinkles, to lighten my eyes, or to make my teeth white?' 'No. You need nothing to make you beautiful.' 'And for the matter of that, I can say it of you. You tell me that you love me. Is it love that makes your body tall and straight, your beard black, your forehead smooth, your hand strong? Would not any woman see what I see, whether you loved her or not? See! Is your hand whiter than mine because you love and I do not?' She laughed again as she held her hand beside his. 'Truly,' thought Khaled, 'it is less easy than I supposed. For the heart of a woman who does not love is like the desert, when the wind blows over it, and there are neither tracks nor landmarks. And I am wandering in this desert like a man seeking lost camels.' But he said nothing, for he was not yet skilled in the arguments of love. Thereupon Zehowah smiled, and resting her cheek upon her hand, looked into his face, as though saying scornfully, 'Is it not all vanity and folly?' Khaled sighed, for he was disappointed, as a thirsty man who, coming to drink of a clear spring, finds the water bitter, while his thirst increases and grows unbearable. 'Why do you sigh?' Zehowah asked, after a little silence. 'Are you weary? Are you tired with the feasting? Are you full of bitterness, because I do not love you? Command me and I will obey. Are you not my lord to whom I am subject?' He did not speak, but she drew him to her, so that his head rested upon her bosom, and she began to sing to him in a low voice. For a long time Khaled kept his eyes shut, listening to her voice. Then, on a sudden, he looked up, and without speaking so much as a word, he clasped her in his arms and kissed her. Before it was day there was a great tumult in the streets of Riad, of which the noise came up even to the chamber where Khaled and Zehowah were sleeping. Zehowah awoke and listened, wondering what had happened and trying to understand the cries of the distant multitude. Then she laid her hand upon Khaled's forehead and waked him. 'What is it?' he asked. 'It is war,' she answered. 'The enemy have surprised the city in the night of the feast. Arise and take arms and go out to the people.' Khaled sprang up and in a moment he was clothed and had girt on his sword. Then he took Zehowah in his arms. 'While I live, you are safe,' he said. 'Am I afraid? Go quickly,' she answered. At that time the Sultan of Nejed was at war with the northern tribes of Shammar, and the enemy had taken advantage of the month of Ramadhan, in which few persons travel, to advance in great numbers to Riad. During the three days' feast of Bairam they had moved on every night, slaying the inhabitants of the villages so that not one had escaped to bring the news, and in the daytime they had hidden themselves wherever they could find shelter. But in the night in which Khaled and Zehowah were married they reached the very walls of the city, and waiting until all the people were asleep, a party of them had climbed up upon the ramparts and had opened one of the gates to their companions after killing the guards. Khaled found his mare and mounted her without saddle or bridle in his haste, then drawing his sabre he rode swiftly out of the palace into the confusion. The enemy with their long spears were driving the panicstricken guards and the shrieking people before them towards the palace, slaughtering all whom they overtook, so that the gutters of the streets were already flowing with blood, and the horses of the enemy stumbled over the bodies of the defenders. The whole multitude of the pursued and the pursuers were just breaking out of the principal street into the open space before the palace when Khaled met them, a single man facing ten thousand. 'I shall certainly perish in this fight,' he said to himself, 'and yet I shall not receive the reward of the faithful, since Allah has not given me a soul. Nevertheless certain of these dogs shall eat dirt before the rest get into the palace.' So he pressed his legs to the bare sides of his mare and lifted up his sword and rode at the foe, having neither buckler, nor helmet, nor shirt of mail to protect him, but only his clothes and his turban. But his arm was strong, and it has been said by the wise that it is better to fall upon an old lion with a reed than to stand armed in the way of a man who seeks death. 'Yallah! The Sword of the Lord!' shouted Khaled, in such a terrible voice that the assailants ceased to kill for a moment, and the terrified guards turned to see whence so great a voice could proceed; and some who had seen Khaled recognised him and ran to meet him, and the others followed. When the enemy saw a single man riding towards them across the great square before the palace, they sent up a shout of derision, and turned again to the slaughter of such of the inhabitants as could not extricate themselves. 'Shall one man stop an army?' they said. 'Shall a fox turn back a herd of hyænas?' But when Khaled was among them they found less matter for laughter. For the sword was keen, the mare was swift to double and turn, and Khaled's hand was strong. In the twinkling of an eye two of the enemy lay dead, the one cloven to the chin, the other headless. Then a strange fever seized Khaled, such as he had not heard of, and all things turned to scarlet before his eyes, both the walls of the houses, and the faces and the garments of his foes. Men who saw him say that his face was white and shining in the dawn, and that the flashing of the sword was like a storm of lightning about his head, and after each flash there was a great rain of blood, and a crashing like thunder as the horses and men of the enemy fell to the earth. In the meantime, too, the soldiers of the city and the Bedouins of the desert who were within the walls for the feast, took courage, and turning fiercely began to drive the assailants back by the way they had come, towards the market-place in the bazar. But those behind still kept pressing forward, while those in front were driven back, and the press became so great that the Shammars could no longer wield their weapons. The enemy were crowded together like sheep in a fold, and Khaled, with his men, began to cut a broad road through the very midst of them, hewing them down in ranks and throwing them aside, as corn is harvested in Egypt. But after some time Khaled saw that he was alone, with a few followers, surrounded by a great throng of the enemy, for some of his men had been slain after slaying many of their foes, and some had not been able to follow, being hindered at first by the heaps of dead and afterwards by the multitude of their opponents who closed in again over the bloody way through which Khaled had passed. And now the Shammars saw that Khaled could not escape them, and they pressed him on every side, but the archers dared not shoot at him for fear of hitting their own friends, if their arrows chanced to go by the mark. Otherwise he would undoubtedly have perished, since he had no armour, and not even a buckler with which to ward off the darts. But they thrust at him with spears and struck at him with their swords, and wounded him more than once, though he was not conscious of pain or loss of blood, being hot with the fever of the fight. He was hard pressed therefore, and while he smote without ceasing he began to know that unless a speedy rescue came to him, his hour was at hand. From the borders of the market-place, the men of Riad could still see his sword flashing and striking, and they still heard his fierce cry. He looked about him as he fought, and he saw that he was now almost alone. One after another, the few who had penetrated so far forward with him into the press, were overwhelmed by numbers and fell bleeding from a hundred wounds till only a score were left, and Khaled saw that unless he could now cut his way free, he must inevitably perish. But the press was stubborn and a man might as well hope to make his way through a herd of camels crowded together in a narrow street. Then Khaled bethought him of a stratagem. He alone was on horseback, for the enemy's riders had ridden before, and he had met them in the street leading to the palace, when he had himself slain many, and where the rest were even now falling under the swords of the men of Riad. And the few men who were with him were also all on foot. Therefore looking across the market-place he made as though he saw a great force coming to his assistance, and he shouted with all his breath, while his arm never rested. 'Smite, men of Nejed!' he cried. 'For I see the Sultan himself coming to meet us with five hundred horsemen! Smite! Yallah! It is the Sword of the Lord!' Hearing these words, his men were encouraged, and of the enemy many turned their heads to see the new danger. But being on foot they were hindered from seeing by the throng. Yet so much the more Khaled shouted that the Sultan was coming, and many of the heads that turned to look were not turned back again, but rolled down to the feet of those to whom they had belonged. The brave men who were with Khaled took heart and hewed with all their might, taking up the cry of their leader when they saw that it disconcerted their foes, so that the last took fright, and the panic ran through the whole multitude. 'We shall be slain like sheep, and taken like locusts under a mantle, for we cannot move!' they cried, and they began to press away out of the market-place, forcing their comrades before them into the narrow streets. But here many perished. For while every man in Riad had taken his sword and had gone out of his house to fight, the women had dragged up cauldrons of boiling water, and also hand-mill stones, to the roofs, and they scalded and crushed their retreating foes. Then too, as the market-place was cleared, the soldiers came on from the side of the palace, having slain all that stood in their way and taken most of their horses alive, which alone was a great booty, for there are not many horses in Nejed besides those of the Sultan, though these are the very best and fleetest in all Arabia. But the Shammars of the north are great horse-breeders. So the soldiers mounted and joined Khaled in the pursuit, and a great slaughter followed in the streets, though some of the enemy were able to escape to the gates, and warn those of their fellows who were outside to flee to the hills for safety, leaving much booty behind. At the time of the second call to prayer Khaled dismounted from his mare in the market-place, and there was not one of the enemy left alive within the walls. Those who remember that day say that there were five thousand dead in the streets in Riad. Khaled made such ablution as he could, and having prayed and given thanks to Allah, he went back on foot to the palace, his bay mare following him, and thrusting her nose into his hand as he walked. For she was little hurt, and the blood that covered her shoulders and her flanks was not her own. But Khaled had many wounds on him, so that his companions wondered how he was able to walk. In the court of the palace the Sultan came to meet him, and fell upon his neck and embraced him, for many messengers had come, from time to time, telling how the fight went, and of the great slaughter. And Khaled smiled, for he thought that he should now win the love of Zehowah. 'Said I not truly that he is as brave as the lion, and as strong as the camel?' cried the Sultan, addressing those who stood in the court. 'Has he not scattered our enemies as the wind scatters the sand? Surely he is well called by the name Khaled.' 'Forget not your own men,' Khaled answered, 'for they have shared in the danger and have slain more than I, and deserve the spoil. There was a score of stout fellows with me at the last in the market-place, whose faces I should know again on a cloudy night. They fought as well as I, and it was the will of Allah that their enemies should broil everlastingly and drink boiling water. Let them be rewarded.' 'They shall every one have a rich garment and a sum of money, besides their share of the spoil. But as for you, my beloved son, go in and rest, and bind up your wounds, and afterwards there shall be feasting and merriment until the night.' 'The enemy is not destroyed yet,' answered Khaled. 'Command rather that the army make ready for the pursuit, and when I have washed I will arm myself and we will ride out and pursue the dogs until not one of them is left alive, and by the help of Allah we will take all Shammar and lay it under tribute and bring back the women captive. After that we shall feast more safely, and sleep without fear of being waked by a herd of hyænas in our streets.' 'Nay, but you must rest before going upon this expedition,' objected the Sultan. 'The true believer will find rest in the grave, and feasting in paradise,' answered Khaled. 'This is true. But even the camel must eat and drink on the journey, or both he and his master will perish.' 'Let us then eat and drink quickly, that we may the sooner go.' 'As you will, let it be,' said the Sultan, with a sigh, for he loved feasting and music, being now too old to go out and fight himself as he had formerly done. Thereupon Khaled went into the harem and returned to Zehowah's apartment. As he went the women gathered round him with cries of gladness and songs of triumph, staunching the blood that flowed from his wounds with their veils and garments as he walked. And others ran before to prepare the bath and to tell Zehowah of his coming. When she saw him she ran forward and took him by the hands and led him in, and herself she bathed his wounds and bound them up with precious balsams of great healing power, not suffering any of the women to help her nor to touch him, but sending them away so that she might be alone with Khaled. 'I have slain certain of your enemies, Zehowah,' he said, at last, 'and I have driven out the rest from the city.' As yet neither of them had spoken. 'Do you think that I have not heard what you have done?' Zehowah asked. 'You have saved us all from death and captivity. You are our father and our mother. And now I will bring you food and drink and afterwards you shall sleep.' 'So you are well pleased with the doings of the husband you have married,' he said. He was displeased, for he had supposed that she would love him for his deeds and for his wounds and that she would speak differently. But though she tended him and bound his wounds, and bathed his brow with perfumed waters, and laid pillows under his head and fanned him, as a slave might have done, he saw that there was no warmth in her cheek, and that the depths of her eyes were empty, and that her hands were neither hot nor cold. By all these signs he knew that she felt no love for him, so he spoke coldly to her. 'Is it for me to be pleased or displeased with the deeds of my lord and master?' she asked. 'Nevertheless, thousands are even now blessing your name and returning thanks to Allah for having sent them a preserver in the hour of danger. I am but one of them.' 'I would rather see a faint light in your eyes, as of a star rising in the desert than hear the blessings of all the men of Nejed. I would rather that your hand were cold when it touches mine, and your cheek hot when I kiss it, than that your father should bestow upon me all the treasures of Riad.' 'Is that love?' asked Zehowah with a laugh. 'A cold hand, a hot cheek, a bright eye?' Khaled was silent, for he saw that she understood his words but not his meaning. It was now noon and it was very hot, even in the inner shade of the harem, and Khaled was glad to rest after the hard fighting, for his many slight wounds smarted with the healing balsam, and his heart was heavy and discontented. Then Zehowah called a slave woman to fan him with a palm leaf, and presently she brought him meat and rice and dates to eat, and cool drink in a golden cup, and she sat at his feet while he refreshed himself. 'How many did you slay with your own hand?' she asked at last, taking up the good sword which lay beside him on the carpet. CHAPTER IV Khaled pondered deeply, being uncertain what to do, and trying to find out some action which could win for him what he wanted. Zehowah received no answer to her question as to the number of enemies he had slain and she did not ask again, for she thought that he was weary and wished to rest in silence. 'What do you like best in the whole world?' he asked after a long time, to see what she would say. 'I like you best,' she answered, smiling, while she still played with his sword. 'That is very strange,' Khaled answered, musing. But the colour rose darkly in his cheeks above his beard, for he was pleased now as he had been displeased before. 'Why is it strange?' asked Zehowah. 'Are you not the palm tree in my plain, and a tower of refuge for my people?' 'And will you dry up the well from which the tree draws life, and take away the corner-stone of the tower's foundation?' 'You speak in fables,' said Zehowah, laughing. 'Yet you imagined the fable yourself, when you likened me to a palm and to a tower. But I am no lover of allegories. The sword is my argument, and my wit is in my arm. The wall by the tree is the wall of love, and the chief foundation of the tower is the love of Zehowah. If you destroy that, the tree will wither and the tower will fall.' 'Surely there was never such a man as you,' Zehowah answered, half jesting but half in earnest. 'You are as one who has bought a white mare; and though she is fleet, and good to look at, and obedient to his voice and knee, yet he is discontented because she cannot speak to him, and he would fain have her black instead of white, and if possible would teach her to sing like a Persian nightingale.' 'Is it then not natural in a woman to love man? Have you heard no tales of love from the story-tellers of the harem?' 'I have heard many such tales, but none of them were told of me,' Zehowah replied. 'Will you drink again? Is the drink too sweet, or is it not cool?' She had risen from her seat and held the golden cup, bending down to him, so that her face was near his. He laid his hand upon her shoulder. 'Hear me, Zehowah,' he said. 'I want but one thing in the world, and it was for that I came out of the Red Desert to be your husband. And that thing I will have, though the price be greater than rubies, or than blood, or than life itself.' 'If it is mine, I freely give it to you. If it is not mine, take it by force, or I will help you to take it by a stratagem, if I can. Am I not your wife?' She spoke thus, supposing from his face that he meant some treasure that could be taken by strength or by wile, for she could not believe a man could speak so seriously of a mere thought such as love. 'Neither my right hand nor your wit can give me this, but only your heart, Zehowah,' he answered, still holding her and looking at her. But now she did not laugh, for she saw that he was greatly in earnest. 'You are still talking of love,' she said. 'And you are not jesting. I do not know what to answer you. Gladly will I say, I love you. Is that all? What is it else? Are those the words?' 'I care little for the words. But I will have the reality, though it cost your life and mine.' 'My life? Will you take my life, for the sake of a thought?' 'A thought!' he exclaimed. 'Do you call love a thought? I had not believed a woman could be so cold as that.' 'If not a thought, what then? I have spoken the truth. If it were a treasure, or anything that can be taken, you could take it, and I could help you. But if the possibility of possessing it lie not in deeds, it lies in thoughts, and is itself a thought. If you can teach me, I will think what you will; but if you cannot teach me, who shall? And how will it profit you to take my life or your own?' 'Is it possible that love is only a thought?' asked Khaled, speaking rather to himself than to her. 'It must be,' she answered. 'The body is what it is in the eyes of others, but the soul is what it thinks itself to be, happy or unhappy, loving or not loving.' 'You are too subtle for me, Zehowah,' Khaled said. 'Yet I know that this is not all true.' For he knew that he possessed no soul, and yet he loved her. Moreover he could think himself happy or unhappy. 'You are too subtle,' he repeated. 'I will take my sword again and I will go out and fight, and pursue the enemy and waste their country, for it is not so hard to cut through steel as to touch the heart of a woman who does not love, and it is easier to tear down towers and strongholds of stone with the naked hands than to build a temple upon the moving sand of an empty heart.' Khaled would have risen at once, but Zehowah took his hand and entreated him to stay with her. 'Will you go out in the heat of the day, wounded and wearied?' she asked. 'Surely you will take a fever and die before you have followed the Shammars so far as two days' journey.' 'My wounds are slight, and I am not weary,' Khaled answered. 'When the smith has heated the iron in the forge, does he wait until it is cold before striking?' 'But think also of the soldiers, who have striven hard, and cannot thus go out upon a great expedition without preparation as well as rest.' 'I will take those whom I can find. And if they will go with me, it is well. But if not, I will go alone, and they and the rest will follow after.' 'It is summer, too,' said Zehowah, keeping him back. 'Is this a time to go out into the northern desert? Both men and beasts will perish by the way.' 'Has not Allah bound every man's fate about his neck? And can a man cast it from him?' 'I know not otherwise, but if heat and hunger and thirst do not kill the men, they will certainly destroy the beasts, whose names are not recorded by Asrael, and who have no destiny of their own.' 'You hinder me,' said Khaled. 'And yet you do not know how many of the Shammar may be yet lurking within a day's march of the city, slaying your people, burning their houses and destroying their harvest. Let me go. Will you love me better if I stay?' 'You will be the better able to get the victory.' 'Will you love me better if I stay?' 'If you go now, you may fail in your purpose and perish as well. How could I love you at all then?' 'It is the victory you love then--not me?' 'Could I love defeat? Nay, do not be angry with me. Stay here at least until the evening. Think of the burning sun and the raging thirst and the smarting of your wounds which have only been dressed this first time. Think of the soldiers, too----' 'They can bear what I can bear. Was it not summer-time when the Prophet went out against the Romans?' 'I do not know. Stay with me, Khaled.' 'I will come back when I have destroyed the Shammars.' 'And if the soldiers will not go with you, will you indeed go out alone?' 'Yes. I will go alone. When they see that they will follow me. They are not foxes. They are brave men.' Khaled rose and girt his sword about him. Zehowah helped him, seeing that she could not persuade him to stay. 'Farewell,' he said, shortly, and without so much as touching her hand he turned and went out. She followed him to the door of the room and stood watching as he went away. 'One of us two was to rule,' she said to herself, 'and it is he, for I cannot move him. But what is this talk of love? Does he need love, who is himself the master?' She sighed and went back to the carpet on which they had been sitting. Then she called in her women and bid them tell her all they had heard about the fight in the morning; and they, thinking to please her, extolled the deeds of Khaled and of the tens he had slain they made hundreds, and of the thousands of the enemy's army, they made tens of thousands, till the walls of Riad could not have contained the hosts of which they spoke, and the dry sand of the desert could not have drunk all the blood which had been shed. Meanwhile Khaled went into the outer court of the palace, where many soldiers were congregated together in the shade of the high wall, eating camel's meat and blanket bread and drinking the water from the well. They were all able-bodied and unhurt, for those who had been wounded were at their houses, tended by their wives. 'Men of Riad!' cried Khaled, standing before them. 'We have fought a good fight this morning and the power of our foes is broken. But all are not yet destroyed, and it may be that there are many thousands still lurking within a day's march of the city, slaying the people, burning their houses and destroying their harvests. Let us go out and kill them all before they are able to go back to their own country. Afterwards we will pursue those who are already escaping, and we will lay all the tribes of Shammar under tribute and bring back the women captive.' Thereupon a division arose among the soldiers. Some were for going at once with Khaled, but others said it was the hot season and no time for war. 'It is indeed summer,' said Khaled. 'But if the Shammars were able to come to Riad in the heat, the men of Riad are able to go to them. And I at least will go at once, and those who wish to share the spoil will go with me, but those who are satisfied to sit in the shade and eat camel's meat will stay behind. In an hour's time I will ride out of the northern gate.' So saying, Khaled rode slowly down into the city towards the market-place. The people were carrying away their own dead, and dragging off the bodies of their enemies, with camels, by fours and fives tied together to bury them in a great ditch without the walls. When Khaled appeared, many of the men gathered round him, with cries of joy, for they had supposed that some of his wounds were dangerous and that they should not see him for many days. 'Wallah! He is with us again!' they shouted, jostling each other to get near, and standing on tiptoe to see the good mare that had carried him so well in the fight. 'Masallah! I am with you,' answered Khaled, 'and if you will go with me we will send many more of the Shammars to eat thorns and thistles, as many as dwell in Kasim and Tabal Shammar as far as Haïl; and by the help of Allah we will take the city of Haïl itself and divide the spoil and bring away the women captive; and when we have taken all that there is we will lay the land under tribute and make it subject to Nejed. So let those who will go with me arm themselves and take every man his horse or his camel, and dates and barley and water-skins, and in an hour's time we will ride out. For Allah will certainly give us the victory.' 'Let us bury the dead to-day and to-morrow we will go,' said many of those nearest to him. 'Are there no old men and boys in Riad to bind the sheaves you have mown?' asked Khaled. 'And are there no women to mourn over the dead of your kindred who have fallen in a good fight? And as for to-morrow, it is yet in Allah's hand. But to-day we have already with us. However, if you will not go with me, I will go alone.' The men were pleased with Khaled's speech, and indeed the greater part of the dead were buried by this time, for all the people had made haste to the work, fearing lest the bodies should bring a pestilence among them, since it was summer-time and very hot. Then all those who were unhurt and could bear arms, went and washed themselves, and took their weapons and food, as Khaled had directed them. Before the call to afternoon prayers the whole host went out of the northern gate. Then Khaled accomplished all that he had spoken of, and much more, for he drove the scattered force of the enemy before him, overtaking all at last and slaying all whom he overtook as far as Zulfah which is by the narrow end of the Nefud. Here he rested a short time, and then quickly crossing the sand, he entered the country called Kasim which is subject to the Shammars. Here he was told by a woman who had been taken that the Shammars were coming with a new army against him out of Haïl. He therefore hid his host in a pass of the hills just above the plain, and sent down a few Bedouins to encamp at the foot of the mountains, bidding them call themselves Shammars and make a show of being friendly to the enemy. So when the army of the Shammars reached the foot of the hills, they saw the tents and only one or two camels, and Khaled's Bedouins came out and welcomed them, and told them that Khaled was still crossing the Nefud, and that if they made haste through the hills they might come upon him unawares and at an advantage as he began to ascend. Thereupon the enemy rejoiced and entered the pass in haste, after filling their water-skins. When they were in the midst of the hills, Khaled and his army sprang up from the ambush and fell upon them, and utterly destroyed them, taking all their horses and camels and arms; after which he went down into the plain and laid waste the country about Haïl. He took the city as the Shammars had taken Riad. For he himself got upon the wall at night, with the strongest and the bravest of his followers, and slew the guards and opened the gate just before the dawn. But there was no Khaled in Haïl to rally the soldiers and give them heart to turn and make a stand in the streets. Khaled then entered the palace and took the Sultan of Shammar alive, not suffering him to be hurt, for he wished to bring him to Riad. This Sultan was a man of middle age, having only one eye, and also otherwise ill-favoured, besides being cowardly and fat. So Khaled ordered that he should be put into a litter, and the litter into a cage, and the cage slung between two camels. But he commanded that the women of the harem should be well treated and brought before him, that he might see them, intending to bring back the most beautiful of them as presents to his father-in-law. 'Surely,' said the men who were with him, 'you will keep the fairest for yourself.' But Khaled turned angrily upon them. 'Have I not lately married the most beautiful woman in the world?' he asked. 'I tell you it is for her sake that I have destroyed the Shammars. But the Sultan shall have the best of these women, and afterwards the rest of them will be divided amongst you by lot.' When the women heard that they were to be distributed among the men of Nejed they at first made a pretence of howling and beating their breasts, but they rejoiced secretly and soon began to laugh and talk among themselves, pointing out to each other the strongest and most richly dressed of Khaled's followers, as though choosing husbands among them. But one of them neither wept nor spoke to her companions, but stood silently watching Khaled, and when he sat down upon a carpet in the chief kahwah of the house, she brought him drink in a goblet set with pearls from Katar, and sat down at his feet as though she had been his wife. But he took little heed of her at first, for he was busy with grave matters. The other women, seeing what she did, thought that she was acting wisely in the hope of gaining Khaled's favour, seeing that he was the chief of their enemies, so they, too, came near, and brought water for his hands, and perfumes, and sweetmeats, thinking to outdo her. But she pushed them away, taking what they brought for him, and offering it herself. 'Are you better than we?' the women said angrily. 'Has our lord chosen you for himself, that you will not let us come near him?' Then Khaled noticed her and began to wonder at her attention and zeal. 'What is your name?' he asked. But she did not speak. 'Who is she?' he inquired of the other women. 'She is an unbeliever,' they answered contemptuously. 'And she is proud, for she trusts in her white skin and her blue eyes, and her hair which is red without henna. She thinks she is better than we. Command us to uncover our faces, that you may see and judge between us.' 'Let it be so. Let us see who is the fairest,' said Khaled, and he laughed. Then the woman who sat at his feet threw aside her veil, and all the others did the same. Khaled saw that the one was certainly more beautiful than the rest, for her skin was as white as milk, and her eyes like the sea of Oman when it is blue in winter. She had also long hair, plaited in three tresses which came down to her feet, red as the locusts when the sun shines upon them at evening, and not dyed. 'There is a bay mare in a stable of black ones,' Khaled said. 'What is the name of the bay mare?' 'Her name is Aziz, and she is a Christian,' said one of the women. 'Not Aziz--Almasta,' said the beautiful woman in an accent which showed that she could not speak Arabic fluently. 'Almasta, a Christian.' 'She was lately sent as a present to our master by the Emir of Basrah,' said one of the others. 'He paid a thousand and five hundred sequins for her, for she was brought from Georgia,' said another. 'But I am a free woman, and myself the daughter of an emir.' Then all the others began to scream. 'It is a lie,' they cried. 'Your father was a white slave from Syria.' 'You are fools,' retorted the woman who had spoken. 'You should have said that you were also free women and the daughters of emirs. So our lord would have treated you with more consideration.' The others saw their folly and were silent and drew back, but Khaled only smiled. 'As good mares are bred in the stable as in the desert,' he said, and the women laughed with him at the jest, for they saw that it pleased him. But Almasta was silent and sat at his feet, looking into his face. 'You must learn to talk in Arabic,' he said, 'and then you will be able to tell stories of your native country to the Sultan, for he loves tales of travel.' Almasta smiled and bent her head a little, but she did not understand all he said, being but lately come into Arabia. 'I will go with you,' she answered. 'Yes. You will go with me to Riad to the Sultan, and perhaps he will make you his wife, for he has none at present.' 'I will go with you,' she repeated, looking at him. 'She does not understand you,' said the women, laughing at her ignorance of their own tongue. 'It is no matter,' said Khaled. 'She will learn in due time. Perhaps it has pleased Allah to send my lord the Sultan a wife without a tongue for a blessing in his old age.' 'I will go with you,' Almasta said again. 'She can say nothing else,' jeered the women. One of them pulled her by her upper garment, so that she looked round. 'Can you say this, "My father was a dog and the son of dogs"?' asked the woman. But Almasta pushed her angrily away, for she half understood. Then the woman grew angry too, and shook her fist in Almasta's face. 'If you fight, you shall eat sticks,' said Khaled, and then they were all quiet. Thus he took possession of the city of Haïl and remaining there some time he reduced all the country to submission, so that it remained a part of the kingdom of Nejed for many years after that. For the power of the Shammars was broken, and they could nowhere have mustered a thousand men able to bear arms. Khaled set a governor in the place of the Sultan and ordered all the laws of the country in the same manner as those of Nejed, and after he had been absent from Riad nearly two months, he set aside a part of his force to remain behind and keep the peace in case there should be an outbreak, and with the rest he began to journey homeward, taking a great spoil and many captives with him. During the march most of the women captives rode on camels, but a few of the most beautiful were taken in litters lest the fatigues of riding should injure their appearance and thus diminish their value. Almasta was one of these, and the Sultan of Haïl was taken in a cage as has been said, though he was not otherwise ill-treated, and received his portion of camel's meat and bread, equal to that of the soldiers. Khaled sent messengers on fleet mares to Riad to give warning of his coming, but he could not himself proceed very quickly, because his army was burdened with so much spoil; and as there was now no haste to overtake an enemy he journeyed chiefly at night, resting during the day wherever there was water, for although the summer was far advanced it was still hot. He thought continually of Zehowah, by day in his tent and by night on the march, for he supposed that she would be glad when she heard of the victory and that she would now love him, because he had avenged her people, and taken Haïl, and brought back gold and captives, besides other treasures. 'She was already pleased with my deeds, before we left Riad,' he thought, 'for she asked me how many of the Shammars I had slain with my own hand, and at the last she wished me to stay with her, most probably that I might tell her more about the fight. How much the more will she be glad now, since I have killed so many more and have brought back treasure, and made a whole country subject to her father. Shall not blood and gold buy the love of a woman?' It chanced once during this journey that Khaled was sitting at the door of his tent after the sun had gone down and before the night march had begun. Upon the one side, at a little distance, was the tent of the women captives who had been taken from the palace in Haïl, and upon the other the soldiers had set down the cage in which the Sultan of Shammar was carried. The men had laid a carpet over the cage to keep the sun from the prisoner during the heat of the day, lest he should not reach Riad alive as Khaled desired. For the Sultan was fat and of a choleric temper. Now the soldiers had given him food but had forgotten to bring him water, and it was hot under the carpet now that the evening had come. But he could lift it up a little on one side, and having done so, he began to cry out, cursing Khaled and railing at him, not knowing that he was so near at hand. 'Oh you whose portion it shall be to broil everlastingly, and to eat thistles and thorns, and to lie bound in red-hot chains as I lie in this cage! Have you brought me out into the desert to die of thirst like a lame camel? Surely your entertainment on the day of judgment shall be boiling water and the fruit of Al Zakkam, and whenever you try to get out of hell you shall be dragged back again and beaten with iron clubs, and your skin shall dissolve, and the boiling water shall be poured upon your head!' In this way the captive cried out, for he was very thirsty. But when Khaled saw that no one gave him water he called in the darkness to the women who sat by their tent. 'Fetch water and give the man to drink,' he said. One of the women rose quickly and filled a jar at the well close by, and took it to the cage. But then the railing and cursing broke out afresh, so that Khaled wondered what had happened. 'Who has sent me this unbelieving woman to torture me with thirst?' cried the prisoner. 'Are you not Aziz whom I was about to take for my fourth wife on account of your red hair? But your hair shall be a perpetual flame hereafter, burning the bones of your head, and your flesh shall be white with heat as iron in a forge. If I were still in my kingdom you should eat many sticks! If Allah delivers me from my enemies I will cause your skin to be embroidered with gold for a trapping to my horse!' The moon rose at this time, being a little past the full, and Khaled looked towards the cage and saw that the woman was standing two paces away from the Sultan's outstretched hand. She dabbled in the cool water with her fingers so that a plashing sound was heard, and then drank herself, and scattered afterwards a few drops in the face of the thirsty captive. 'It is good water,' she said. 'It is cold.' Khaled knew from her broken speech that it was Almasta, and he understood that she was torturing the prisoner with the sound and sight of the water, and with her words. So he rose from his place and went to the cage. 'Did I not tell you to give him drink?' he asked, standing before the woman. 'Oh my lord, be merciful,' cried the captive, when he saw that Khaled himself was there. 'Be merciful and let me drink, for your heart is easily moved to pity, and by an act of charity you shall hereafter sit in the shade of the tree Sedrat and drink for ever of the wine of paradise.' 'I do not desire wine,' said Khaled. 'But you shall certainly not thirst. Give him the jar,' he said to Almasta. But she shook her head. 'He is bad and ugly,' she said. 'If he does not drink, he will die.' Then Khaled put out his hand to take the jar of water, but Almasta threw it violently to the ground, and it broke to pieces. Thereupon the captive began again to rail and curse at Almasta and to implore Khaled with many blessings. 'You shall drink, for I will bring water myself,' said Khaled. He went back to his tent and took his own jar to the well, and filled it carefully. When he turned he saw that Almasta was running from his tent towards the cage, with a drawn sword in her hand. He then ran also, and being very swift of foot, he overtook her just as she thrust at the Sultan through the bars. But the sword caught in the folds of the soft carpet, and Khaled took it from her hand, and thrust her down so that she fell upon her knees. Then he gave the prisoner the jar with the water that remained in it, for some had been spilt as he ran. 'Who has given you the right to kill my captives?' he asked of Almasta. 'Kill me, then!' she cried. 'Indeed, if you were not so valuable, I would cut off your head,' Khaled answered. 'Why do you wish me to kill you?' 'I hate him,' she said, pointing to the captive who was drinking like a thirsty camel. 'That is no reason why I should kill you. Go back to the tents.' But Almasta laid her hand on the sword he held and tried to bring it to her own throat. 'This is a strange woman,' said Khaled. 'Why do you wish to die? You shall go to Riad and be the Sultan's wife.' 'No, no!' she cried. 'Kill me! Not him, not him!' 'Of whom do you speak?' 'Him!' she answered, again pointing to the prisoner. 'Is he not the Sultan?' Khaled laughed aloud, for he saw that she had supposed she was to be taken to Riad to be made the wife of the Sultan of Shammar. Indeed, the other women had told her so, to anger her. 'Not this man,' he said, endeavouring to make her understand. 'There is another Sultan at Riad. The Sultan of Shammar is one, the Sultan of Nejed another.' 'You?' she asked, suddenly springing up. 'With you?' The moon was bright and Khaled saw that her eyes gleamed like stars and her face grew warm, and when she took his hands her own were cold. 'No, not I,' he answered. 'I am not the Sultan.' But her face became grey in the moonlight, and she covered her head with her veil and went slowly back to her tent. 'This woman loves me,' Khaled thought. 'And as I have not talked much with her, it must be because I am strong and have conquered the people among whom she was captive. How much the more then, will Zehowah love me, for the same reason.' So he was light of heart, and soon afterwards he commanded everything to be made ready and mounted his bay mare for the night march. CHAPTER V When Khaled was within half a day's march of Riad, the Sultan came out to meet him with a great train of attendants and courtiers, with cooks bringing food and sweetmeats, and a number of musicians. And they all encamped together for a short time in the shade of the trees, for there were gardens in the place. The Sultan embraced Khaled and put upon him a very magnificent garment, after which they sat down together in a large tent which the Sultan had brought with him. When they had eaten and refreshed themselves they began to talk, and Khaled told his father-in-law all that he had done, and gave him an account of the spoils which he had brought back, commanding the most valuable objects to be brought into the tent. After this the Sultan desired to see the women captives. 'There is one especially whom it may please you to take for yourself,' said Khaled, and he ordered Almasta to be brought in. When the male slaves had left the tent, Almasta drew aside her veil. The Sultan looked at her and smiled, stroking his beard, for he was much pleased. 'Her face is like a pearl and her hair is a setting of red gold,' he said. 'Truly she is like the sunrise on a fair morning when there are red clouds in the east.' Almasta looked attentively at him, and afterwards she glanced at Khaled, who could not avoid looking at her on account of her beauty. Her face was grave and indifferent. Then Khaled told the Sultan how she had hated the Sultan of Shammar and had tried to kill him on the journey. 'This is a dangerous woman, my son,' said the old man. But he laughed as he said it, for although he was old, he was no coward. 'She is dangerous, indeed. Will you love me, pearl of my soul's treasures?' he inquired of her, still smiling. 'You are my lord and my master,' she answered, looking down. When Khaled heard this he wondered whether his father-in-law would get any affection from her. Zehowah had answered in the same words. 'By Allah, I will give you such gifts as will make you love me,' said the Sultan. 'What shall I give you?' 'His head,' answered Almasta, raising her eyes quickly. 'The head of the Sultan of Shammar?' Almasta nodded, and Khaled could see that her lips trembled. 'A dead man has no companions,' said the Sultan, looking at Khaled to see what he would do. But Khaled cared little, and said nothing. So the Sultan called a slave and ordered the captive's head to be struck off immediately. Then Almasta threw herself upon the carpet on the floor of the tent and embraced his feet. 'See how easily the love of a woman is got,' Khaled thought, 'even by an old man whose beard is grey and his limbs heavy.' When Almasta rose again, she looked at Khaled triumphantly, as though to remind him of the night on the journey when he had hindered her from killing the captive in his cage. But though he understood her, he held his peace, for he had cared nothing whether the prisoner lived or died after he had delivered him over to his father-in-law, and he was considering whether he might not please Zehowah in some similar manner. This was not easy, however, for he was not aware that Zehowah had any private enemy, whose head he might offer her. After the Sultan had seen the other women and the best of the spoils, Khaled begged that he might be allowed to ride on into Riad alone, for he saw that the Sultan intended to spend the night in feasting where he had encamped. The Sultan was so much pleased with Almasta and so greatly diverted in examining the rich stuffs and the gold and silver vessels and jewels, that he let Khaled go, almost without trying to detain him, though he made him many speeches praising his conduct of the war, and would have loaded him with gifts. But Khaled would take nothing with him, saying that he would only receive his just share with the rest; and the fame of his generosity immediately went abroad among the soldiers and the Bedouins throughout all the camp. 'For,' said Khaled, 'there is not a fleeter mare than mine among all those we have taken; my sword proves to be a good one, for I have tried it well; as for women, I am satisfied with one wife; and besides a wife, a sword and a horse, there are no treasures in the world which I covet.' So Khaled rode away alone into Riad, for he desired no company, being busy with his own thoughts. He reached the gates at nightfall and went immediately to the palace and entered Zehowah's apartments. He found her sitting among her women in her accustomed place, listening to the tales of an old woman who sat in the midst of the circle. As soon as Zehowah saw her husband she sprang up gladly to meet him, as a friend would have done. 'Though it is summer-time, I have pursued the enemy,' said Khaled. 'And though the sun was hot, I have got the victory and brought home the spoil.' He said this remembering how she had tried to hinder him from going. Then he gave her his sword and he sat down with her, while the women brought food and drink, for he was weary, and hungry and thirsty. The women also brought their musical instruments and began to sing songs in praise of Khaled's deeds; but after a time he sent them all away and remained alone with Zehowah. 'O Zehowah,' he said, 'you are my law and my rule. You are my speech and my occupation. You are my Kebla to which I turn in prayer. For the love of you I have got the victory over many foes. And yet I see that your cheek is cold and the light of your eyes is undisturbed. Have you no other enemies for me to destroy, or have you no secret foe whose head would be a pleasant gift?' Zehowah laughed, as she fanned him with a palm leaf. 'Do you still thirst for war, Khaled?' she asked. 'Truly you have swallowed up all our enemies as the dry sand swallows up water. Where shall I find enemies enough for you to slay? You went out in pride and you have returned in glory. Are you not yet satisfied? And as for any secret foe, if I have any I do not know him. Rest, therefore; eat and drink and spend your days in peace.' 'I care little for either food or drink,' Khaled answered, 'and I need little rest.' 'Will nothing but war please you? Must you overcome Egypt and make Syria pay tribute as far as Damascus before you will rest?' 'I will conquer the whole world for you, if you wish it,' said Khaled. 'What should I do with the world?' asked Zehowah. 'Have I not treasures and garments enough and to spare, besides the spoil you have now brought home? And besides, if you would conquer the world you must needs make war upon true believers, amongst whom we do not count the people of Shammar. Be satisfied therefore and rest in peace.' 'How shall I be satisfied until I have kindled the light in Zehowah's eyes at my coming, and until I feel that her hand is cold and trembles when I take it in mine?' 'Do I say to my eyes, "be dull"--or to my hand, "do not tremble"?' Zehowah asked. 'Is this, which you ask of me, something I can command at will, as I can a smile or a word? If it is, teach me and I will learn. But if not, why do you expect of me what I cannot do? Can a camel gallop like a horse, or a horse trot like a camel, or bear great burdens through the desert? Have you come back from a great war only to talk of this something which you call love, which is yours and not mine, which you feel and I cannot feel, which you cannot explain nor describe, and which, after all, is but a whim of the fancy, as one man loves sour drink and another sweet?' 'Do you think that love is nothing but a whim of the fancy?' asked Khaled bitterly. 'What else can it be? Would you love me if you were blind?' 'Yes.' 'And if you were deaf?' 'Yes.' 'And if you could not touch my face with your hands, nor kiss me with your lips?' 'Yes.' Zehowah laughed. 'Then love is indeed a fancy. For if you could not see me, nor touch me, nor hear me, what would remain to you but an empty thought?' 'Have I seen you, or touched you, or heard your voice for these two months and a half?' asked Khaled. 'Yet I have loved you as much during all that time.' 'You mean that you have thought of me, as I have thought of you, by the memory of what was not fancy, but reality. Would you dispute with me, Khaled? You will find me subtle.' 'There is more wit in my arm than in my head,' Khaled answered, 'and it is not easy for a man to persuade a woman.' 'It is very easy, provided that the man have reason on his side. But where are the treasures you have brought back, the slaves and the rich spoils? I would gladly see some of them, for the messengers you sent told great tales of the riches of Haïl.' 'To-morrow they will be brought into the city. Your father has remained feasting in the gardens towards Dereyiyah, and the whole army with him. I rode hither alone.' 'Why did you not remain too?' 'Because that whim of the fancy which I call love brought me back,' Khaled answered. 'Then I am glad you love me,' said Zehowah. 'For I am glad you came quickly.' 'Are you truly glad?' 'I was very tired of my women,' she answered. 'I am sorry you have brought nothing with you. Are there any among the captives who are beautiful?' 'There is one, a present sent lately to the Sultan of Shammar. She is very beautiful, and unlike all the rest. Your father is much pleased with her, and will perhaps marry her.' 'Of what kind is her beauty?' asked Zehowah. 'She is as white as milk, her eyes are twin sapphires, her mouth is a rose, her hair is like gold reddened in fire.' Zehowah was silent for a while, and twisted a string of musk-beads round her fingers. 'The others are all Arabian women,' Khaled said at last. 'Why did you not keep the beautiful one for yourself?' asked Zehowah, suddenly throwing aside her beads and looking at him curiously. 'Surely you, who have borne the brunt of the war, might have chosen for yourself what pleased you best.' Khaled looked at her in great astonishment. 'Have I not married Zehowah? Would you have me take another wife?' 'Why not? Is it not lawful for a man to take four wives at one time? And this woman might have loved you, as you desire to be loved.' 'Would it be nothing to you, if I took her?' 'Nothing. I am the King's daughter. I shall always be first in the house. I say, she might love you. Then you would be satisfied.' 'Zehowah, Zehowah!' cried Khaled. 'Is love a piece of gold, that it matters not whence it be, so long as a man has it in his own possession? Or is it wood of the 'Ood tree that one may buy it and bring it home and make the whole house fragrant with it? Is a man's heart like his belly, which is alike satisfied with different kinds of food?' 'He who eats, knows by the taste whether he eats Persian mutton, or barley bread, or only broiled locusts. But a man who believes that he is loved, knows that he is loved, so far as knowing is possible, and must be satisfied, if to be loved is what he desires.' 'That may be true. But he who desires bread is not satisfied with locusts. It is your love which I would have. Not the love of another.' 'You are like a man who hopes to get by argument a sum of money from one who has nothing,' said Zehowah, smiling at him. 'Can you make gold grow in the purse of a beggar? Or can you cause a ghada bush to bear dates by reasoning with it? Your heart is a palm tree, but mine is a ghada bush.' 'Yet an angel may touch the ghada and it will bear fruit,' answered Khaled, for he remembered how the angel had turned dry leaves into rich garments for him to wear. 'Doubtless, Allah can do all things. But where is the angel? Hear me, Khaled, for I speak very reasonably, as a wife should speak to her husband, who is her lord and master. My lord is not satisfied with me and desires something of me which is not mine to give. Let him take another wife beside me. I have given my lord a kingdom and great riches and power. Let him take another wife now, who will give him this fancy of his thoughts for which he yearns, though she have no other possessions. In this way my lord will be satisfied.' Khaled listened sadly to what Zehowah said, and he began to despair, for he was not subtle in argument nor eloquent in speech. The reason of this was plain. In the days when he had been one of the genii he had wandered over the whole earth and had heard the eloquence of all nations and the arguments of all philosophers, learning therefrom that deeds are no part of words, and that they who would be believed must speak little and do much. But the genii possess no insight into the hearts of women. Khaled reflected also that the length of life granted him was uncertain, and that he had already spent two months and a half at a distance from Zehowah in accomplishing the conquest whereby he had hoped to win her love. But since this had utterly failed, he cast about in his mind for some new deed to do, which could be done without leaving her even for a short time. But he was troubled by her indifference, and most of all by her proposing that he should take another wife. As he thought of this, he was filled with horror, and he understood that he loved Zehowah more than he had supposed, since he could not bear to think of setting another woman beside her. Then his face became very dark and his eyes were like camp fires far off in the desert, and he took Zehowah's wrist in his hand, holding it tightly as though he would not let it go. As his heart grew hot in his breast, words came to his lips unawares like the speech of a man in a dream, and he heard his own voice as it were from a distance. 'I will not take another,' he said. 'What is the love of any other woman to me? It is as dust in the throat of a man thirsting for water. Show me a woman who loves me. Her face shall be but a cold mirror in which the image of a fire is reflected without warmth, her soft words shall be to me as the screaming of a parrot, her touch a thorn and her lips ashes. What is it to me if all the women of the world love me? Kindle a fire and burn them before me, for I care not. Let them perish all together, for I shall not know that they are gone. I love you and not another. Shall it profit a man to fill his mouth with dust, though it be the dust of gold mingled with precious stones, when he desires water? Or shall he be warmed in winter by the reflection of a fire in a mirror? By Allah! I want neither the wealth of Haïl, nor a wife with red hair. Let them take gold who do not ask for love. I want but one thing, and Zehowah alone can give it to me. Wallah! My heart burns. But I would give it to be burned for ever in hell if I might get your love now. This I ask. This only I desire. For this I will suffer and for this I am ready to die before my time.' Zehowah was silent, looking at him with wonder, and yet not altogether pleased. She saw that she could not understand him, though she did as well as she could. 'Has he not all that the heart of man can desire?' she thought. 'Am I not young and beautiful, and possessed of many jewels and treasures? Have I not given him wealth and power, and has he not with his own hand got the victory over his enemies and mine? And yet he is not satisfied. Surely, he is too hard to please.' But he, reading her thoughts from her face, continued in his speech. 'What is all the happiness of the world without love?' he asked. 'It is like a banquet in which many rich viands are served, but the guests cannot eat them because there is no salt in any of them. And what is a beautiful woman without love? She is like a garden in which there are all kinds of rare flowers, and much grass, and deep shade, but in which a man cannot live, because nothing grows there which he can eat when he is hungry.' 'Truly,' said Zehowah, 'that is what you will make of your life. For there is a garden called Irem, planted in a secret place of the deserts about Aden, by Sheddad the son of Ad, who desired to outdo the gardens of paradise, and was destroyed for his impiety with all his people, by the hand of Allah. But a certain man named Abdullah ibn Kelabah was searching in the desert for a lost camel, and came unawares upon this place. There were fruits and water there and all that a man could wish for, and Abdullah dwelt in peace and plenty, praising Allah. Then on a certain day he desired to eat an onion, and finding none anywhere, he went out, intending to obtain one, and having eaten it, to return immediately. But though he searched the desert many months he was never able to find the garden again. Wherefore it is said that Abdullah ibn Kelabah lost the earthly paradise of Irem for a mouthful of onion.' 'How can you understand me if you do not love me?' asked Khaled. 'Love has its own language, and when two love they understand each the other's words. But when the one loves and the other loves not, they are strangers, though they be man and wife; or they are like Persians and Arabians not understanding either the other's speech, or that if the wife cries "father," her husband will bring her a cup of water supposing her to be thirsty. For those who would speak one language must be of one heart, and they who would be of one heart must love each other.' Then Zehowah sighed and leaned against the cushions by the wall and drew her hand away from Khaled. 'What is it?' she asked in a low voice. 'What is it you would have?' But though she had already asked the question many times she found no answer, and none that he was able to give could enlighten her darkness. 'It is the spark that kindles the flame,' Khaled said, and he pointed to the lights that hung in the room. 'Your beauty is like that of a cunningly designed lamp, inlaid with gold and silver and covered with rich ornament, which is seen by day. But there is no light within, and it is cold, though it be full of oil and the wick be ready.' Zehowah turned towards him somewhat impatiently. 'And you are as one who would kindle the flame with words, having no torch,' she answered. 'Have I not done deeds also?' asked Khaled. 'Or have I spoken much, that you should reproach me? Surely I have slain more of your enemies than I have spoken words to you to-night.' 'But have I asked for an offering of blood, or a marriage dower of dead bodies?' Khaled was silent, for he was bitterly disappointed, and as his eyes fell upon the sword which hung on the wall, he felt that he could almost have taken it and made an end of Zehowah for very anger that she would not love him. Had he not gone out for her into the raging heat of summer, and borne the burden of a great war, and destroyed a nation and taken a city? Moreover, if neither words nor deeds could gain her love, what means remained to him to try? All through the night Khaled pondered, calling up all that he had seen in the world in former times, until he fell asleep at last, wearied in heart. Very early in the morning one of Zehowah's women came and stood by his bed and waked him. He could see that her face was pale in the dawn, her limbs trembled and her voice was uncertain. 'Arise, my lord!' she said. 'A messenger has come from the army with evil news, and stands waiting in the court.' Khaled sprang up, and Zehowah awoke also. 'What is this message?' he asked hastily. But the woman threw herself upon the floor and covered her face, as though begging forgiveness because she brought evil tidings. 'Speak!' said Zehowah. 'What is it?' 'Our lord the Sultan is dead!' cried the woman, and she broke out into weeping and crying and would say nothing more. But when Zehowah heard that her father was dead, she sat down upon the floor and beat her breast and tore her hair, and wailed and wept, while all the women of the harem came and gathered round her and joined in her mourning, so that the whole palace was filled with the noise of their lamentations. Khaled went out into the court and questioned the messenger, who told him that the Sultan had held a great feast in the evening in the gardens of Dereyiyah, having with him the woman Almasta and the other captive women, and being served by black slaves. But, suddenly, in the night, when most of the soldiers were already asleep, there had been a great cry, and the slaves and women had come running from the tent, crying that the Sultan was dead. This was true, and the Jewish physician who had gone out with his master declared that he had died from an access of humours to the head, brought on by a surfeit of sweetmeats, there being at the time an evil conjunction of Zoharah and Al Marech in square aspect to the moon and in the house of death. Khaled therefore mounted his bay mare and rode quickly out to Dereyiyah, where he found that the news was true, and the women were already preparing the Sultan's body for burial. Having ordered the mourning, and commanded the army to prepare for the return to the city, Khaled set out with the funeral procession; and when he reached the walls of Riad he turned to the left and passed round to the north-east side of the city where the burial-ground is situated. Here he laid the body of his father-in-law in the tomb which the latter had prepared for himself during his lifetime, and afterwards, dismissing the mourners, he went back into the city to the palace. After the days of mourning were accomplished, the will of the Sultan was made known, though indeed the people were well acquainted with it already. By his will Khaled succeeded to the sovereignty of the kingdom of Nejed and to all the riches and treasures which the Sultan had accumulated during his lifetime. But the people received the announcement with acclamations and much joy, followed by a great feasting, for which innumerable camels were slain. Khaled also called all the chief officers and courtiers to a banquet and addressed them in a few words, according to his manner. 'Men of Nejed,' he said, 'it has pleased Allah to remove to the companionship of the faithful our master the Sultan, my revered father-in-law, upon whom be peace, and to set me up among you as King in his stead, being the husband of his only daughter, which you all know. As for the past, you know me; but if I have wronged any man let him declare it and I will make reparation. And if not, let none complain hereafter. But as for the future I will be a just ruler so long as I live, and will lead the men of Nejed to war, when there is war, and will divide the spoil fairly; and in peace I will not oppress the people with taxes nor change the just and good laws of the kingdom. And now the feast is prepared. Sit down cheerfully, and may Allah give us both the appetite to enjoy and the strength to digest all the good things which shall be set before us.' But Khaled himself ate sparingly, for his heart was heavy, and when they had feasted and drunk treng juice and heard music, he retired to the harem, where he found Zehowah sitting with Almasta, the Georgian woman, there being no other women present in the room. He was surprised when he saw Almasta, though he knew that the captive women had been lodged in the palace, the distribution of the spoil from the war having been put off by the mourning for the Sultan. When Almasta heard him enter, she looked up quickly and a bright colour rose in her face, as when the juice of a pomegranate is poured into milk, and disappeared again as the false dawn before morning, leaving no trace. Khaled sat down. 'Is not this the woman of whom you spoke?' Zehowah asked. 'I knew her from the rest by her red hair.' 'This is the woman. Your father would have taken her for his wife. But Allah has disposed otherwise.' 'She is beautiful. She is worthy to be a king's wife,' said Zehowah. 'The Sultan?' asked Almasta, for she hardly understood. Her face turned as white as bone bleached by the sun, and her fingers trembled, while her eyes were cast down. Zehowah looked at Khaled and laughed. 'See how she trembles and turns pale before you,' she said. 'And a little while ago her face was red. You have found a torch wherewith to kindle this lamp, and a breath that can extinguish it.' 'I do not know,' Khaled answered. But he looked attentively at Almasta and remained silent for some time. 'It is now necessary to divide the spoils of the war,' he said at last, 'and to bestow such of these women as you do not wish to keep upon the most deserving of the officers.' 'My lord will surely take the fairest for himself, since she loves him,' said Zehowah, again laughing, but somewhat bitterly. 'May my tongue be cloven and my eyes be put out, may my hands wither at the wrists and my feet fall from my ankles, if I ever take any wife but you,' said Khaled. 'Yallah! So be it.' When Zehowah heard him say this, even while Almasta's face was unveiled before him, she understood that he was greatly in earnest. 'Let me keep her for my handmaid,' she said at last. 'Is she mine that you need ask me? But it will be wiser to give her to Abdul Kerim, the sheikh of the horsemen. I have promised that the spoil should be fairly divided, and though few have seen this woman many have heard of her beauty. And besides, she would weary you, for she cannot talk in Arabian, nor does she seem quick to learn. Abdul Kerim has the first right, since Allah has removed your father, upon whom be peace.' 'Your words are my laws,' answered Zehowah obediently. 'And, indeed, it may be that you are right, for I believe she can neither dance nor sing, nor play upon any musical instrument. She would certainly weary me after a time, as you say. Give her therefore to Abdul Kerim for his share.' They then made Almasta understand that she was to be given to the sheikh of the horsemen; but when she had understood she shook her head and smiled, though at first she said nothing, so that Khaled and Zehowah wondered whether she had comprehended what they had told her. 'Do you understand what we have told you?' asked Zehowah, who was diverted by her ignorance of the Arabic language. 'I understand.' 'And are you not pleased that you are to be the wife of Abdul Kerim, who is a rich man and still young?' 'I was to be the Sultan's wife,' said Almasta, with difficulty, looking at Khaled. 'You told me so.' 'The Sultan is dead,' Khaled answered. 'Who is the Sultan now?' she asked. 'Khaled is the Sultan,' said Zehowah. 'You said that I should be the Sultan's wife,' Almasta repeated. 'Doubtless, I said so,' Khaled replied. 'But Allah has ordered it otherwise.' Almasta again smiled and shook her head. CHAPTER VI On the following day Khaled made a division of the spoils, and gave Almasta to Abdul Kerim, enjoining upon him to marry her, since he had but two wives and could do so lawfully. The sheikh of the horsemen was glad, for he had heard much of Almasta's beauty, and he loved fair women, being of a fierce temper and not more than forty years old. So he called his friends to the marriage feast that same day, and Zehowah sent Almasta in a litter to his harem, giving her also numerous rich garments by way of a dower, but which in fact were due to Abdul Kerim as his share of the booty. So the men feasted, with music, until the evening, when the bridegroom retired to the harem and the Kadi came and read the contract; after which Abdul Kerim sat down while Almasta was brought before him in various dresses, one after the other, as is customary. When the women were all gone away, Abdul Kerim began to talk to his wife, but she only laughed and said the few words she knew, not knowing what he said, and presently she began to sing to him in a low voice, in her own language. Her voice was very clear and quite different from that of the Arabian women whom Abdul had heard, and the tones vibrated with great passion and sweetness, so that he was enchanted and listened, as in a dream, while his head rested against Almasta's knee. She continued to sing in such a manner that his soul was transported with delight; and at last, as the sound soothed him, he fell into a gentle sleep. Almasta, still singing softly, loosened his vest, touching him so gently that he did not wake. She then drew out of one of the three tresses of her hair a fine steel needle, extremely long and sharp, having at one end a small wooden ball for a handle, and while she sang, she thrust it very quickly into his breast to its full length, so that it pierced his heart and he died instantly. But she continued to sing, lest any of the women should be listening from a distance. Presently she withdrew the needle so slowly that not a drop of blood followed it, and having made it pass thrice through the carpet she restored it to her hair, after which she fastened the dead man's vest again, so that nothing was disarranged. She sang on, after this for some time, and then after a short silence she sprang up from the couch, uttering loud screams and lamentations and beating her breast violently. The women of the harem came in quickly, and when they saw that their master was dead, they sat down with Almasta and wept with her, for as he lay dead there was no mark of any violence nor any sign whereby it could be told that he had not died naturally. When Khaled heard that Abdul Kerim was dead, he was much grieved at heart, for the man had been brave and had been often at his right hand in battle. But the news being brought to him at dawn when he awoke, he immediately sent the Jewish physician of the court to ascertain if possible the cause of the sudden death. The physician made careful examination of the body, and having purified himself returned to Khaled to give an account. 'I have executed my lord's orders with scrupulous exactness,' he said, 'and I find that without doubt the sheikh of the horsemen died suddenly by an access of humours to the heart, the sun being at that time in the Nadir, for he died about midnight, and being moreover in evil conjunction with the Dragon's Tail in the Heart of the Lion, and not yet far from the square aspect of Al Marech which caused the death of his majesty the late Sultan, upon whom be peace.' But Khaled was thoughtful, for he reflected that this was the second time that a man had died suddenly when he was about to be Almasta's husband, and he remembered, how she had attempted to kill the Sultan of Haïl, and had ultimately brought about his death. 'Have you examined the dead man as minutely as you have observed the stars?' he inquired. 'Is there no mark of violence upon him, nor of poison, nor of strangling?' 'There is no mark. By Allah! I speak truth. My lord may see for himself, for the man is not yet buried.' 'Am I a jackal, that I should sniff at dead bodies?' asked Khaled. 'Go in peace.' The physician withdrew, for he saw that Khaled was displeased, and he was himself as much surprised as any one by the death of Abdul Kerim, a man lean and strong, not given to surfeiting and in the prime of health. 'Min Allah!' he said as he departed. 'We are in the hand of the Lord, who knoweth our rising up and our lying down. It is possible that if I had seen this man at the moment of death, or a little before, I might have discovered the nature of his disease, for I could have talked with him and questioned him.' But Khaled went in and talked with Zehowah. She was greatly astonished when she heard that Almasta's husband was dead, but she was satisfied with the answer of the Jewish physician, who enjoyed great reputation and was believed to be at that time the wisest man in Arabia. 'Give her back to me, to be one of my women,' said she. 'It is not written that she should marry a man of Nejed, unless you will take her yourself.' But Khaled bent his brow angrily and his eyes glowed like the coals of a camp fire which is almost extinguished, when the night wind blows suddenly over the ashes. 'I have spoken,' he said. 'And I have heard,' she answered. 'Let there be an end. But give me this woman to divert me with her broken speech.' 'I fear she will do you an injury of which you may not live,' said Khaled. 'What injury can she do me?' asked Zehowah in astonishment, not understanding him. 'She asked of your father the head of the Sultan of Haïl, whom she hated. And your father gave it to her.' 'Peace be upon him!' exclaimed Zehowah piously. 'Upon him peace. And when he would have married her, he died suddenly at the feasting. And now this Abdul Kerim, who was to have been her husband, is dead also, without sign, in the night, as a man stung by a serpent in his sleep. These are strange doings.' 'If you think she has done evil, let her be put to death,' said Zehowah. 'But the physician found no mark upon Abdul Kerim. By the hand of Allah he was taken.' 'Doubtless his fate was about his neck. But it is strange.' Zehowah looked at Khaled in silence, but presently she smiled and laid her hand upon his. 'This woman loves you with her whole soul,' she said. 'You think that she has slain Abdul Kerim by secret arts, in the hope that she may marry you.' 'And your father also.' Then they were both silent, and Zehowah covered her face, since she could not prevent tears from falling when she thought of her father, whom she had loved. 'If this be so,' she said after a long time, 'let the woman die immediately.' 'It is necessary to be just,' Khaled answered. 'I will put no one to death without witnesses, not even a captive woman, who is certainly an unbeliever at heart. Has any one seen her do these deeds, or does any one know by what means a man may be slain in his sleep, or at a feast, so that no mark is left upon his body? At Dereyiyah your father was alone with her in the inner part of the tent, and she was singing to him that he might sleep. For I have made inquiry. And when Abdul Kerim died he was also alone with her. I cannot understand these things. But you are a woman and subtle. It may be that you can see what is too dark for me.' 'It may be. Therefore give her back to me, and I will lay a trap for her, so that she will betray herself if she has really done evil. And when we have convicted her by her own words she shall die.' 'Are you not afraid, Zehowah?' 'Can I change my destiny? If my hour is come, I shall die of a fever, or of a cold, whether she be with me or not. But if my years are not full, she cannot hurt me.' 'This is undoubtedly true,' answered Khaled, who could find nothing to say. 'But I will first question the woman myself.' So he sent slaves with a litter to bring Almasta from the house of mourning to the palace, and when she was come he sent out all the other women and remained alone with her and Zehowah, making her sit down before him so that he could see her face. Her cheeks were pale, for she had not slept, having been occupied in weeping and lamentation during the whole night, and her eyes moved restlessly as those of a person distracted with grief. Khaled then drew his sword and laid it across his feet as he sat and looked fixedly at Almasta. 'If you do not speak the truth,' he said, 'I will cut off your head with my own hand. Allah is witness.' When Almasta saw the drawn sword, her face grew whiter than before, and for some moments she seemed not able to breathe. But suddenly she began to beat her breast, and broke out into loud wailings, rocking herself to and fro as she sat on the carpet. 'My husband is dead!' she cried. 'He was young; he was beautiful! He is dead! Wah! Wah! my husband is dead! Kill me too!' Khaled looked at Zehowah, but she said nothing, though she watched Almasta attentively. Then Khaled spoke to the woman again. 'Make an end of lamenting for the present,' he said. 'It has pleased Allah to take your husband to the fellowship of the faithful. Peace be upon him. Tell us in what manner he died, and what words he spoke when he felt his end approaching, for he was my good friend and I wish to know all.' Almasta either did not understand or made a pretence of not understanding, but when she heard Khaled's words she ceased from wailing and sobbed silently, beating her breast from time to time. 'How did he die?' Khaled asked in a stern voice. 'He was asleep. He died,' replied Almasta in broken tones. 'You will get no other answer,' said Zehowah. 'She cannot speak our tongue.' 'Is there no woman among them all who can talk this woman's language?' asked Khaled with impatience, for he saw how useless it was to question her. 'There is no one. I have inquired. Leave her with me, and if there is anything to be known, I will try to find it out.' So Khaled went away and Zehowah endeavoured to soothe Almasta and make her talk in her broken words. But the woman made as though she would not be comforted, and went and sat apart upon the stone floor where there was no carpet, rocking to and fro, and wailing in a low voice. Zehowah understood that whatever the truth might be Almasta was determined to express her sorrow in the customary way, and that it would be better to leave her alone. For seven days she sat thus apart, covering her head and mourning, and refusing to speak with any one, so that all the women supposed her to be indeed distracted with grief at the death of Abdul Kerim. And each day Khaled inquired of his wife whether she had yet learned anything, and received the same answer. But in the meantime he was occupied with his own thoughts, as well as with the affairs of the kingdom, though the latter were as nothing in his mind compared with the workings of his heart when he thought of Zehowah. It chanced one evening that Khaled was riding among the gardens without the city, attended only by a few horsemen, for he was simple in all his ways and liked little to have a great throng of attendants about him. So he rode alone, while the horsemen followed at a distance. 'Was ever a man, or an angel, so placed in the world as I am placed?' he thought. 'How much better would it have been had I never seen Zehowah, and if I had never slain the Indian prince. For I should still have been with my fellows, the genii, from whom I am now cut off, and at least I should have lived until the day of the resurrection. But now my horse may stumble and fall, and my neck may be broken, and there is no hereafter. Or I may die in my sleep, or be killed in my sleep, and there will be no resurrection for me, nor any more life, anywhere in earth or heaven. For Zehowah will never love me. Was ever a man so placed? And I am ashamed to complain to her any more, for she is a good wife, obedient and careful of my wants, and beautiful as the moon at the full, rising amidst palm trees, besides being very wise and subtle. How can I complain? Has she not given me herself, whom I desired, and a great kingdom which, indeed, I did not desire, but which no man can despise as a gift? Yet I am burned up within, and my heart is melting as a piece of frankincense laid upon coals in an empty chamber, when no man cares for its sweet savour. Surely, I am the most wretched of mankind. Oh, that the angel who made garments for me of a ghada bush, and a bay mare of a locust, would come down and lay his hand upon Zehowah's breast and make a living heart of the stone which Allah has set in its place!' So he rode slowly on, reasoning as he had often reasoned before, and reaching the same conclusion in all his argument, which availed him nothing. But suddenly, as the sun went down, a new thought entered his mind and gave him a little hope. 'The sun is gone down,' he said to himself. 'But Allah has not destroyed the sun. It will rise in the east to-morrow when the white cock crows in the first heaven. Many things have being, which the sight of man cannot see. It may be that although I see no signs of love in the heaven of Zehowah's eyes, yet love is already there and will before long rise as the sun and illuminate my darkness. For I am not subtle as the evil genii are, but I must see very clearly before I am able to distinguish.' He rode back into the city, planning how he might surprise Zehowah and obtain from her unawares some proof that she indeed loved him. To this end he entered the palace by a secret gate, covering his garments with his aba, and his head with the kefiyeh he wore, in order to disguise himself from the slaves and the soldiers whom he met on his way to the harem. He passed on towards Zehowah's apartment by an unlighted passage not generally used, and hid himself in a niche of the wall close to the open door, from which he could see all that happened, and hear what was said. Zehowah was seated in her accustomed place and Almasta was beside her. Khaled could watch their faces by the light of the hanging lamps, as the two women talked together. 'You must put aside all mourning now,' Zehowah was saying. 'For I will find another husband for you.' 'Another husband?' Almasta smiled and shook her head. 'Yes, there are other goodly men in Riad, though Abdul Kerim was of the goodliest, as all say who knew him. He was the Sultan's friend, but he was more soldier than courtier. He deserved a better death.' 'Abdul Kerim died in peace. He was asleep.' Almasta smiled still, but more sadly, and her eyes were cast down. 'He died in peace,' Zehowah repeated, watching her narrowly. 'But it is better to die in battle by the enemy's hand. Such a man, falling in the front of the fight for the true faith, enters immediately into paradise, to dwell for ever under the perpetual shade of the tree Sedrat, and neither blackness nor shame shall cover his face. There the rivers flow with milk and with clarified honey, and he shall rest on a couch covered with thick silk embroidered with gold, and shall possess seventy beautiful virgins whose eyes are blacker than mine and their skin whiter than yours, having colour like rubies and pearls, and their voices like the song of nightingales in Ajjem, of which travellers tell. These are the rewards of the true believer as set forth in Al Koran by our prophet, upon whom peace. A man slain in battle for the faith enters directly into the possession of all this, but unbelievers shall be taken by the forelock and the heels and cast into hell, to drink boiling molten brass, as a thirsty camel drinks clear water.' Almasta understood very little of what Zehowah said, but she smiled, nevertheless, catching the meaning of some of the words. 'The Sultan Khaled loves black eyes,' she said. 'He will go to paradise.' 'Doubtless, he will quench his thirst in the incorruptible milk of heavenly rivers,' Zehowah replied. 'He is the chief of the brave, the light of the faith and the burning torch of righteousness. Otherwise Allah would not have chosen him to rule. But I spoke of Abdul Kerim.' 'He died in peace,' said Almasta the second time, and again looking down. 'I do not know how he died,' Zehowah answered, looking steadily at the woman's face. 'It was a great misfortune for you. Do you understand? I am very sorry for you. You would have been happy with Abdul Kerim.' 'I mourn for him,' Almasta said, not raising her eyes. 'It is natural and right. Doubtless you loved him as soon as you saw him.' Almasta glanced quickly at Zehowah, as though suspecting a hidden meaning in the words, and for a moment each of the women looked into the other's eyes, but Zehowah saw nothing. For a wise man has truly said that one may see into the depths of black eyes as into a deep well, but that blue eyes are like the sea of Oman in winter, sparkling in the sun as a plain of blue sand, but underneath more unfathomable than the desert. Almasta was too wise and deceitful to let the silence last. So when she had looked at Zehowah and understood, she smiled somewhat sorrowfully and spoke. 'I could have loved him,' she said. 'I desire no husband now.' 'That is not true,' Zehowah answered quickly. 'You wish to marry Khaled, and that is the reason why you killed Abdul Kerim.' Almasta started as a camel struck by a flight of locusts. 'What is this lie?' she cried out with indignation. 'Who has told you this lie?' But her face was as grey as a stone, and her lips trembled. 'You probably killed him by magic arts learned in your own country,' said Zehowah quietly. 'Do not be afraid. We are alone, and no one can hear us. Tell me how you killed him. Truly it was very skilful of you, since the physician, who is the wisest man in Arabia, could not tell how it was done.' But Almasta began to beat her breast and to make oaths and asseverations in her own language, which Zehowah could not understand. 'If you will tell me how you did it, I will give you a rich gift,' Zehowah continued. But so much the more Almasta cried out, stretching her hands upwards and speaking incomprehensible words. So Zehowah waited until she became quiet again. 'It may be that Khaled will marry you, if you will tell me your secret,' Zehowah said, after a time. Then Almasta's cheek burned and she bent down her eyes. 'Will you tell me how to kill a man and leave no trace?' asked Zehowah, still pressing her. 'Look at this pearl. Is it not beautiful? See how well it looks upon your hair. It is as the leaf of a white rose upon a river of red gold. And on your neck--you cannot see it yourself--it is like the full moon hanging upon a milky cloud. Khaled would give you many pearls like this, if he married you. Will you not tell me?' 'Whom do you wish to kill?' Almasta asked, very suddenly. But Zehowah was unmoved. 'It may be that I have a private enemy,' she said. 'Perhaps there is one who disturbs me, against whom I plot in the night, but can find no way of ridding myself of him. A woman might give much to destroy such a one.' 'Khaled will kill your enemies. He loves you. He will kill all whom you hate.' 'You make progress. You speak our language better,' said Zehowah, laughing a little. 'You will soon be able to tell the Sultan that you love him, as well as I could myself.' 'But you do not love him,' Almasta answered boldly. Zehowah bent her brows so that they met between her eyes as the grip of a bow. Then Khaled's heart leaped in his breast, for he saw that she was angry with the woman, and he supposed it was because she secretly loved him. But he held his breath lest even his breathing should betray him. 'The portion of fools is fire,' said Zehowah, not deigning to give any other answer. For she was a king's daughter and Almasta a bought slave, though Khaled had taken her in war. 'Be merciful!' exclaimed Almasta, in humble tones. 'I am your handmaid, and I speak Arabic badly.' 'You speak with exceeding clearness when it pleases you.' 'Indeed I cannot talk in your language, for it is not long since I came into Arabia.' 'We will have you taught, for we will give you a husband who will teach you with sticks. There is a certain hunchback, having one eye and marked with the smallpox, whose fists are as the feet of an old camel. He will be a good husband for you and will teach you the Arabic language, and your skin shall be dissolved but your mind will be enlightened thereby.' 'Be merciful! I desire no husband.' 'It is good that a woman should marry, even though the bridegroom be a hunchback. But if you will tell me your secret I will give you a better husband and forgive you.' 'There is no secret! I have killed no one!' cried Almasta. 'Who has told you the lie?' 'And moreover,' continued Zehowah, not regarding her protestations, 'there are other ways of learning secrets, besides by kindness; such, for instance, as sticks, and hot irons, and hunger and thirst in a prison where there are reptiles and poisonous spiders, besides many other things with which I have no doubt the slaves of the palace are acquainted. It is better that you should tell your secret and be happy.' 'There is no secret,' Almasta repeated, and she would say nothing else, for she did not trust Zehowah and feared a cruel death if she told the truth. But Zehowah wearied of the contest at last, being by no means sure that the woman had really done any evil, and having no intention of using any violent means such as she had suggested. For she was as just as she was wise and would have no one suffer wrongly. Khaled, indeed, cared little for the pain of others, having seen much blood shed in war, and would have caused Almasta to be tortured if Zehowah had desired it. But she did not, preferring to wait and see whether she could not entrap the slave into a confession. Khaled now came out of his hiding-place into the room and advanced towards Zehowah, who remained sitting upon the carpet, while Almasta rose and made a respectful salutation. But neither of the women knew that he had been hidden in the niche. Zehowah did not seem surprised, but Almasta's face was white and her eyes were cast down, though indeed Khaled wished that it had been otherwise. He was encouraged, however, by what he had seen, for Zehowah had certainly been angry with Almasta on his account, and he dismissed the latter that he might be alone with his wife. 'You are wise, Zehowah,' he said, 'and gifted with much insight, but you will learn nothing from this woman, though you talk with her a whole year. For she suspects you and is guarded in her speech and manner. I was standing by the doorway a long time. You did not see me, but I heard all that you said.' 'Why did you hide yourself?' Zehowah asked, looking at him curiously. 'In order to listen,' he answered. 'And I heard something and saw something which pleased me. For when she said that you did not love me, you were angry.' 'Did that please you? You are more easily pleased than I had thought. Shall I bear such things from a slave? How is it her business whether I love or not?' 'But you were angry,' Khaled repeated, vainly hoping that she would say more, yet not wishing to press her too far, lest she should say again that she did not love him. She, however, said nothing in reply, but busied herself in taking his kefiyeh from his head and his sword from his side that he might be at ease. He rested against the cushions and drank of the cool drink she offered him. 'This woman, Almasta, is exceedingly beautiful,' he said at last. 'It would indeed be a pity that a slave of such value should go into the possession of another so that we could see her no more. It is best that you should keep her with you.' Zehowah laughed a little, as she sat down beside him and began to play with her beads. 'This is what I have always said,' she answered. 'I will keep her with me.' 'It is better so,' said Khaled. Then he remained silent in deep thought, having devised a new plan for gaining what he most desired. It seemed to him possible that Zehowah might be moved by jealousy, if by nothing else; for although he had sworn to her, and angrily, that he would never take Almasta for his wife, and though nothing could really have prevailed upon him to make him do so, yet it would be easy for him to talk to the woman and speak to her of her beauty, and appear to take delight in her singing, which was more melodious than that of a Persian nightingale. Since she would be now permanently established in his harem, nothing would be easier than for him to spend many hours in the woman's society. Being a simple-minded man the plan seemed to him subtle, and he determined to put it into execution without delay. He knew also that Almasta had loved him since the first day when she had been brought before him in the palace at Haïl, and this would make it still more easy to rouse Zehowah's jealousy. Though she had herself advised him to marry Almasta, he did not believe that she was greatly in earnest, and he felt assured that if the possibility were presented before her, in such a way as to appear imminent, she would be deceived by the appearance. 'It is better that she should remain here,' he said after a long time. 'For we cannot put her to death without evidence of her guilt, and if we are obstinate in wishing to give her a husband, we do not know how many husbands she may destroy before she is satisfied. She is beautiful, and will be an ornament in your kahwah. Indeed I do not know why I sent her away just now, when I came in. Let us call her back, that she may sing to us some of her own songs.' Zehowah clapped her hands and Almasta immediately returned, for she had indeed been waiting outside the door, endeavouring to hear what was said, since she suspected that Khaled would speak of her and ask questions. She understood well enough, and often much better than she was willing to show, though she could as yet speak but few words of the Arabic language. 'Sit at my feet,' said Khaled, 'and sing to me the songs of your own people.' Almasta took a musical instrument from the wall and sat down to sing. Her voice, indeed, was of enchanting sweetness, but as for the words of her songs, the seven wise men themselves could not have understood a syllable of them, seeing that they were neither Arabic nor Persian, nor even Greek. Nevertheless, Khaled made a pretence of being much pleased, resting his head against the cushions and closing his eyes as though the sound soothed him. As for Zehowah, she watched the woman with great curiosity, wondering whether it were possible that a creature so fair as Almasta could have done the evil deeds of which she was suspected, and planning how she might surprise her into a confession of guilt. CHAPTER VII Not many days passed after this, before the women of the harem began to whisper among themselves in the passages and outer chambers. 'See,' they said, 'how our master favours this foreign woman, who is in all probability a devil from the Persian mountains. Every day he will have her to sing to him, and to bring him drink, and to sit at his feet. And he has given her several bracelets of gold and a large ruby. Surely it will be better for us to flatter her and show her reverence, for if not she will before long give us sticks to eat, and we shall mourn our folly.' So they began to exhibit great respect for Almasta, giving her always the best seat amongst them and setting aside for her the best portions of the mutton, and the whitest of the rice, and the largest of the sweetmeats and the mellowest of the old sugar dates, so that Almasta fared sumptuously. But though she understood the reason why the women treated her so much more kindly than before, she was careful always to appear thankful and to speak softly to them, for she feared Zehowah, to whom they might speak of her, and who was very powerful with the Sultan. She was indeed secretly transported with joy, for she loved Khaled and she began to think that before long he would marry her. This was her only motive, also, for she was not otherwise ambitious, and though she afterwards did many evil deeds, she did them all out of love for him. Though Khaled was by no means soft-hearted, he could not but pity her sometimes, seeing how she was deceived by his kindness, while he was only making a pretence of preferring her in order to gain Zehowah's love. Often he sat long with closed eyes while she sang to him or played softly upon the barbat, and he tried to fancy that the voice and the presence were Zehowah's. But her strange language disturbed him, for there were sounds in it like the hissing of serpents and like choking, which caused him to start suddenly just when her voice was sweetest. For the Georgian tongue is barbarous and not like any human speech under the sun, resembling by turns the inarticulate warbling of birds, and the croaking of ravens, and the noises made by an angry cat. Nevertheless, Khaled always made a pretence of being pleased, though he enjoined upon Almasta to learn to sing in Arabic. 'For Arabic,' he said to her, 'is the language of paradise, and is spoken by all beings among the blessed, from Adam, our father, who waits for the resurrection in the first heaven, to the birds that fly among the branches of the tree Sedrat, near the throne of Allah, singing perpetually the verses of Al Koran. The black-eyed virgins reserved for the faithful, also speak only in Arabic.' 'Shall I be of the Hur al Oyun of whom you speak?' Almasta inquired. 'How is it possible that you should be of the black-eyed ones, when your eyes are blue?' Khaled asked, laughing. 'And besides, are you not an unbeliever?' 'I believe what you believe, and am learning your language. There is no Allah beside Allah.' 'And Mohammed is Allah's prophet.' 'And Mohammed is Allah's prophet,' Almasta repeated devoutly. 'Good. And the six articles of belief are also necessary.' 'Teach me,' said Almasta, laying the barbat upon the carpet and folding her hands. 'You must believe first in Allah, and secondly in all the angels. Thirdly you must believe in Al Koran, fourthly in the prophets of Allah, fifthly in the resurrection of the dead and the last judgment, and lastly that your destiny is about your neck so that you cannot escape it.' 'I believe in everything,' said Almasta, who understood nothing of these sacred matters. 'Shall I now be one of the Hur al Oyun?' 'But you have blue eyes.' 'When I know that I am dying, I will paint them black,' said Almasta, laughing sweetly. 'The angels Monkar and Nakir will discover your deception,' said Khaled. 'When you are dead and buried, these two angels, who are black, will enter your tomb. They are of extremely terrible appearance. Then they will make you sit upright in the grave and will examine you first as to your belief and then as to your deeds. You will then not be able to tell lies. If you truly believe and have done good, your soul will then be breathed out of your lips and will float in a state of rest over your grave until the last judgment. But if not, the black angels will beat your head with iron maces, and tear your soul from your body with a torment greater than that caused by tearing the flesh from the bones.' 'I believe in everything,' Almasta said again, supposing that her assent would please him. 'You find it an easy matter to believe what I tell you,' he said, for he could see that she would have received any other faith as readily. 'But it is not easy for a woman to enter paradise, and since it is your destiny to have blue eyes, they will not become black. The Hur al Oyun, however, are not mortal women and no mortal woman can ever be one of them, since they are especially prepared for the faithful. But a man's wives may enter paradise with him, in a glorified beauty which may not be inferior to that of the black-eyed ones. If, for instance, Abdul Kerim had lived and been your husband, you might, by faith and good works, have entered heaven with him as one of his wives.' Almasta looked long at Khaled, trying to see whether he still suspected her, and indeed he found it very hard to do so, for her look was clear and innocent as that of a young dove that is fed by a familiar hand. 'I would like to enter paradise with you,' said Almasta, with an appearance of timidity. 'Is it not possible?' 'It may be possible. But I doubt it,' Khaled answered, with gravity. In those days, while Khaled thus spent many hours with Almasta, Zehowah often remained for a long time in another part of the harem, either surrounded by her women, or sitting alone upon the balcony over the court, absorbed in watching the people who came and went. The slaves were surprised to see that Khaled seemed to prefer the society of the Georgian to that of his wife, but they dared say nothing to Zehowah and contented themselves with watching her face and endeavouring to find out whether she were displeased at what was happening, or really indifferent as she appeared to be. Almasta herself was distrustful, supposing that Khaled and Zehowah were in league together to entrap her into a self-accusation, and though her heart was transported with happiness while she was with Khaled, yet she did not forget to be cautious whenever any reference was made to Abdul Kerim's death. She also took the long needle out of her hair and hid it carefully in a corner, in a crevice between the pavement and the wall, lest it should at any time fall from its place and bring suspicion upon her. Khaled watched Zehowah as narrowly as the women did, to see whether any signs of jealousy showed themselves in her face, and sometimes they talked together of Almasta. 'It is strange,' said Khaled, 'that Allah, being all powerful, should have provided matter for dissension on earth by creating one woman more beautiful than another, the one with blue eyes, the other with black, the one with red hair and the other with hair needing henna to brighten it. Are not all women the children of one mother?' 'And are not all men her sons also?' asked Zehowah. 'It is strange that Allah, being all powerful, should have provided matter for sorrow by creating one man with a spirit easily satisfied, and the other with a soul tormented by discontent.' Khaled looked fixedly at his wife, and bent his brows. But in secret he was glad, for he supposed that she was beginning to be jealous. However, he made a pretence of being displeased. 'Is man a rock that he should never change?' he asked. 'Or has he but one eye with which to see but one kind of beauty? Have I not two hands, two feet, two ears, two nostrils and two eyes?' 'That is true,' Zehowah answered. 'But a man has only one heart with which to love, one voice with which to speak kind words, and one mouth with which to kiss the woman he has chosen. And if a man had two souls, they would rend him so that he would be mad.' At this Khaled laughed a little and would gladly have shown Zehowah that she was right. But he feared to be treated with indifference, if he yielded to her argument so soon, and he held his peace. 'Nevertheless,' Zehowah continued, after a time, 'you are right and so am I. You said, indeed, not many days ago that your two hands should wither at the wrists if you took another wife, yet I advised you to do so; and now it is clear from what you say that you wish to marry Almasta. I am your handmaiden. Take her, therefore, and be contented, for she loves you.' But now Khaled was much disturbed as to what he should answer, for he had hoped that Zehowah would break out into jealous anger. He could not accept her advice, because of his oath and still more because of his love for her; yet he could not send away Almasta, since by so doing he would be giving over his last hope of obtaining Zehowah's love by rousing her jealousy. 'Take her,' Zehowah repeated. 'The palace is wide and spacious. There is room for us both, and for two others also, if need be, according to divine law. Take her, and let there be contentment. Have you not said that she is more beautiful than I?' 'No,' answered Khaled, 'I have not said so.' 'You have thought it, which is much the same, for you said that her hair was red but that mine needed henna to brighten it. Marry her therefore, this very day. Send for the Kadi, and order a feast, and let it be done quickly.' 'Is it nothing to you, whether I take her or not?' Khaled asked, seeking desperately for something to say. 'Is it for me to set myself up against the holy law? Or did any one exact from you a promise that you would not take another wife? And if you rashly promised anything of your own free will, the promise is not binding seeing that there is no authority for it in Al Koran, and that no one desires you to keep it--neither I, nor Almasta.' Zehowah laughed at her own speech, and Khaled was too much disturbed to notice that the laugh was rather of scorn than of mirth. 'How shall I take a woman who is perhaps a murderess?' he asked. 'Shall I take her who was perhaps the cause of your revered father's death? May Allah give him peace! Surely, the very thought is terrible to me, and I will not do it.' 'Will you convict her without witnesses? And where is your witness? Did not the physician explain the reason of the death, and did he suspect that there was anything unnatural about it? But if you still think that she destroyed my father and Abdul Kerim--peace on them both--why do you make her sit all day long at your feet and sing to you in her barbarous language, which resembles the barking of jackals? And why do you command her to bring you drink and fan you when it is hot, and you sleep in the afternoon? This shows a forgiving and trustful disposition.' 'This is an unanswerable argument,' thought Khaled, being very much perplexed. 'Can I answer that I do all this in order to see whether Zehowah is jealous? She would certainly laugh to herself and say in her heart that she has married a fool.' So he said nothing, but bent his brows again, and endeavoured to seem angry. But Zehowah took no notice of his face and continued to urge him to marry Almasta. 'Have you ever seen such a woman?' she asked. 'Have you ever seen such eyes? Are they not like twin heavens of a deep blue, each having a shining sun in the midst? Is not her hair like seventy thousand pieces of gold poured out upon the carpet from a height? Her nose is a straight piece of pure ivory. Her lips are redder than pomegranates when they are ripe, and her cheeks are as smooth as silk. Moreover she is as white as milk, freshly taken from the camel, whereas my hands are of the colour of blanket-bread before it is baked.' 'Your hands are much smaller than hers,' said Khaled, who could not suffer Zehowah to discredit her own beauty. 'I do not know,' she answered, looking at her fingers. 'But they are less white. And Almasta is far more beautiful than I. You yourself said so.' 'I never said so,' Khaled replied, more and more perplexed. 'There are two kinds of beauty. That is what I said. Allah has willed it. Almasta is a slave, and her hands are large. It is a pity, for she is like a mare that has many good points, but whose hoofs are overgrown through too much idleness in the stable. I say that there are two kinds of beauty. Yours is that of the free woman of a pure and beautiful race; hers is that of the slave accidentally born beautiful.' Zehowah gathered up her three long black tresses and laid them across her knees as she sat. Then she shook off her golden bracelets, one after the other, to the number of a score and heaped them upon the hair. 'Which do you like best?' she asked. 'The black or the gold? The day or the night? Here you see them together and can judge fairly between them.' Khaled sought for a crafty answer and made a pretence of pondering the matter deeply. 'After the night,' he said at last, 'the day is very bright and glorious. But when we have looked on it long, only the night can bring rest and peace.' He was pleased with himself when he had made this answer, supposing that Zehowah would find nothing to say. But he had only laid a new trap for himself. 'That is quite true,' she answered, laughing. 'That is also the reason why Allah made the day and the night to follow each other in succession, lest men should grow weary of eternal light or eternal darkness. For the same reason also, since you have a wife whose hair is black, I counsel you to take a red-haired one. In this way you will obtain that variety which the taste of man craves.' 'If I follow your advice, you will regret it,' said Khaled. 'You think I shall be jealous, but you are mistaken. I am what I am. Can another woman make me more or less beautiful? Moreover, I shall always be first in the palace, though you take three other wives. The others will rise up when you come in, but I shall remain sitting. I shall always be the first wife.' 'Undoubtedly, that is your right,' Khaled replied. 'Do you suppose that I wish to put any woman in your place?' Then Zehowah laughed, and laid her hand upon Khaled's arm. 'How foolish men are!' she exclaimed. 'Do you think you can deceive me? Do you imagine, because I have answered you and talked with you to-day, and listened to your arguments, that I do not understand your heart? Oh, Khaled, this is true which you often say of yourself, that your wit is in your arm. If I were a warrior and stood before you with a sword in my hand, you could argue better, for you would cut off my head, and the argument would end suddenly. But Allah has not made you subtle, and words in your mouth are of no more avail than a sword would be in mine, for you entangle yourself in your own language, as I should wound myself if I tried to handle a weapon.' At this Khaled was much disconcerted, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully, looking away so as not to meet her eyes. 'I do not know what you mean,' he said, at last. 'You certainly imagine something which has no existence.' 'I imagine nothing, for I have seen the truth, ever since the first day when you desired to be alone with Almasta. You are only foolishly trying to make me jealous of her, in order that I may love you better.' When Khaled saw that she understood him, he was without any defence, for he had built a wall of sand for himself, like a child playing in the desert, which the first breath of wind causes to crumble, and the second blast leaves no trace of it behind. 'And am I foolish, because I have done this thing?' he cried, not attempting to deny the truth. 'Am I a fool because I desire your love? But it is folly to speak of it, for you will reproach me and say that I am discontented, and will offer me another woman for my wife. Go. Leave me alone. If you do not love me, the sight of you is as vinegar poured into a fresh wound, and as salt rubbed into eyes that are sore with the sand. Go. Why do you stay? Do you not believe me? Do you wish me to kill you that I may have peace from you? It is a pity that you did not marry one of the hundred suitors who came before me, for you certainly loved one of them, since you cannot love me. You doubtless loved the Indian prince. Would you have him back? I can give you his bones, for I slew him with my own hands and buried him in the Red Desert, where his soul is sitting upon a heap of sand, waiting for the day of resurrection.' Then Zehowah was greatly astonished, for neither she nor any one else had ever known what had been the end of that suitor, and after waiting a long time, his people who had been with him had departed sorrowing to their own country, and she had heard no more of them. 'What is this?' she asked in amazement. 'Why did you kill him? And how could you have done this thing unseen, since he was guarded by many attendants?' 'I took him out of the palace in the night, when all were asleep, and then I killed him,' said Khaled, and Zehowah could get no other answer, for he would not confess that he had been one of the genii, lest she should not believe the truth, or else, believing, should be afraid of him in the future. 'I will give you his bones,' he said, 'if you desire them, for I know where they are, and you certainly loved him, and are still mourning for him. If he could be alive, I would kill him again.' 'I never loved him,' Zehowah answered, at last. 'How was it possible? But I would perhaps have married him, hoping to convert all his people to the true faith.' 'As you have married me in the hope, or the assurance, of giving your people a just king.' 'You are angry, Khaled. And, indeed, I could be angry, too, but with myself and not with you, as you are with me, though it be for the same reason. For I begin to see and understand why you are discontented, and indeed I will do what I can to satisfy you.' 'You must love me, as I love you, if you would save me from destruction,' said Khaled. Though Zehowah could not comprehend the meaning of the words, she saw by his face that he was terribly moved, and she herself began to be more sorry for him. 'Indeed, Khaled,' she said, 'I will try to love you from this hour. But it is a hard thing, because you cannot explain it, and it is not easy to learn what cannot be explained. Do you think that all women love their husbands in this way you mean? Am I unlike all the rest?' Khaled took her hand and held it, and looked into her eyes. 'Love is the first mystery of the world,' he said. 'Death is the second. Between the two there is nothing but a weariness darkened with shadows and thick with mists. What is gold? A cinder that glows in the darkness for a moment and falls away to a cold ash in our hand when we have taken it. But love is a treasure which remains. What is renown? A cry uttered in the bazar by men whose minds are subject to change as their bodies are to death. But the voice of love is heard in paradise, singing beside the fountains Tasnim and Salsahil. What is power? A net with which to draw wealth and fame from the waters of life? To what end? We must die. Or is power a sword to kill our enemies? If their time is come they will die without the sword. Or is it a stick to purify the hides of fools? The fool will die also, like his master, and both will be forgotten. But they who love shall enter the seventh heaven together, according to the promise of Allah. Death is stronger than man or woman, but love is stronger than death, and all else is but a vision seen in the desert, having no reality.' 'I will try to understand it, for I see that you are very unhappy,' said Zehowah. She was silent after this, for Khaled's words were earnest and sank into her soul. Yet the more she tried to imagine what the passion in him could be like, the less she was able to understand it, for some of Khaled's actions had been foolish, but she supposed that there must have been some wisdom in them, having its foundation in the nature of love. 'What he says is true,' she thought. 'I married him in order to give my people a just and brave king, and he is both brave and just. And I am certainly a good wife, for I should be dissolved in shame if another man were to see my face, and moreover I am careful of his wants, and I take his kefiyeh from his head with my own hands, and smooth the cushions for him and bring him food and drink when he desires it. Or have I withheld from him any of the treasures of the palace, or stood in the way of his taking another wife? Until to-day, I thought indeed that this talk of love meant but little, and that he spoke of it because he desired an excuse for marrying Almasta who loves him. But when I said at a venture that he wished to make me jealous, he confessed the truth. Now all the tales of love told by the old women are of young persons who have seen each other from a distance, but are hindered from marrying. And we are already married. Surely, it is very hard to understand.' After this Khaled never called Almasta to sit at his feet and sing to him, as he had done before, and Zehowah was constantly with him in her stead. At first Almasta supposed that Khaled only made a pretence of disregarding her, out of respect for his wife, but she soon perceived that he was indifferent and no longer noticed her. She then grew fierce and jealous, and her voice was not heard singing in the harem; but she went and took her needle again from the crevice in the pavement and hid it in her hair, and though Zehowah often called her, when Khaled was not in the house, she made as though she understood even less of the Arabic language than before and sat stupidly on the carpet, gazing at her hands. Zehowah wearied of her silence, for she understood the reason of it well enough. 'I am tired of this woman,' she said to Khaled. 'Do you think I am jealous of her now?' Khaled smiled a little, but said nothing, only shaking his head. 'I am tired of her,' Zehowah repeated. 'She sits before me like a sack of barley in a grainseller's shop, neither moving nor speaking.' 'She is yours,' Khaled answered. 'Send her away. Or we will give her in marriage to one of the sheikhs who will take her away to the desert. In this way she will not be able even to visit you except when her husband comes into the city.' But they decided nothing at that time. Some days later Khaled was sitting alone upon a balcony, Zehowah having gone to the bath, when Almasta came suddenly before him and threw herself at his feet, beating her forehead and tearing her hair, though not indeed in a way to injure it. 'What have I done?' she cried. 'Why is my lord displeased?' Khaled looked at her in surprise, but answered nothing at first. 'Why are my lord's eyes like frozen pools by the Kura, and why is his forehead like Kasbek in a mist?' Khaled laughed a little at her words. 'Kasbek is far from Riad,' he answered, 'and the waters of the Kura do not irrigate the Red Desert. I am not displeased. On the contrary, I will give you a husband and a sufficient dowry. Go in peace.' But Almasta remained where she was, weeping and beating her forehead. 'Let me stay!' she cried. 'Let me stay, for I love you. I will eat the dust under your feet. Only let me stay.' 'I think not,' Khaled answered. 'You weary Zehowah with your silence and your sullenness.' 'Let me stay!' she repeated, over and over again. She was not making any pretence of grief, for the tears ran down abundantly and stained the red leather of Khaled's shoes. Though he was hard-hearted he was not altogether cruel, for a man who loves one woman greatly is somewhat softened towards all such as do not stand immediately in his way. 'It is true,' he thought, 'that I have given this woman some occasion of hope, for I have treated her kindly during many days, and she has probably supposed that I would marry her. For she is less keen-sighted than Zehowah, and moreover she loves me.' 'Do not drive me out!' cried Almasta. 'For I shall die if I cannot see your face. What have I done?' 'You have indeed done nothing worthy of death, for I cannot prove that you killed Abdul Kerim. I will therefore give you a good husband and you shall be happy.' But Almasta would not go away, and embracing his knees she looked up into his face, imploring him to let her remain. Khaled could not but see that she was beautiful, for the mid-day light fell upon her white face and her red lips, and made shadows in her hair of the colour of mellow dates, and reflections as bright as gold when the burnisher is still in the goldsmith's hand. Though he cared nothing for Almasta and little for her sorrow, his eye was pleased and he smiled. Then he looked up and saw Zehowah standing before him, just as she had come from the bath, wrapped in loose garments of silk and gold. He gazed at her attentively for there was a distant gleam of light in her eyes and her cheeks were warm, though she stood in the shadow, so that he thought she had never been more beautiful, and he did not care to look at Almasta's face again. 'Why is Almasta lamenting in this way?' Zehowah asked. 'She desires to stay in the palace,' Khaled answered; 'but I have told her that she shall be married, and yet she wishes to stay.' 'Let her be married quickly, then. Is she a free woman, that she should resist, or is she rich that she should refuse alms? Let her be married.' 'There is a certain young man, cousin to Abdul Kerim, a Bedouin of pure descent. Let him take her, if he will, and let the marriage be celebrated to-morrow.' But Almasta shook her head, and her tears never ceased from flowing. 'You will marry him,' said Khaled. 'And if any harm comes to him, I will cause you to be put to death before the second call to prayer on the following morning.' When Almasta heard this, her tears were suddenly dried and her lips closed tightly. She rose from the floor and retired to a distance within the room. On that day Khaled sent for the young man of whom he had spoken, whose name was Abdullah ibn Mohammed el Herir, and offered him Almasta for a wife. And he accepted her joyfully, for he had heard of her wonderful beauty, and was moreover much gratified by being given a woman whom the former Sultan would probably have married if he had lived. Khaled also gave him a grey mare as a wedding gift, and a handsome garment. The marriage was therefore celebrated in the customary manner, and no harm came to Abdullah. But as the autumn had now set in, he soon afterwards left the city, taking Almasta with him, to live in tents, after the manner of the Bedouins. CHAPTER VIII Abdullah ibn Mohammed, though a young man, was now the sheikh of a considerable tribe which had frequently done good service to the late Sultan, Zehowah's father, and which had also borne a prominent part in the recent war. Abdul Kerim, whom Almasta had murdered, had been the sheikh during his lifetime, and if the claims of birth had been justly considered, his son, though a mere boy, should have succeeded him. But Abdullah had found it easy to usurp the chief place, and in the council which was held after Abdul Kerim's death he was chosen by acclamation. It chanced, too, that he was not married at the time when he took Almasta, for of two wives the one had died of a fever during the summer, and he had divorced the other on account of her unbearable temper, having been deceived in respect of this by her parents, who had assured him that she was as gentle as a dove and as submissive as a lamb. But she had turned out to be as quarrelsome as a wasp and as unmanageable as an untrained hawk, so he divorced her, and the more readily because she was not beautiful and her dower had been insignificant. Almasta therefore found that she was her husband's only wife. She would certainly have killed him, as she had killed Abdul Kerim, and, indeed, the late Sultan, in the hope of being taken back into the palace, but she was prevented by the fear of death, for she had seen that Khaled's threat was not empty and would be executed if harm came to Abdullah after his marriage. She accordingly set herself to please him, and first of all she learned to speak the Arabic language, in order that she might sing to him in his own tongue and tell him tales of distant countries, which she had learned in her own home. Abdullah passed the months of autumn and the early winter in the desert, moving about from place to place, as is the custom of the Bedouins, it being his intention to reach a northerly point of Ajman in the spring, in order to fall upon the Persian pilgrims and extort a ransom before they entered the territory of Nejed. For it would not be lawful to attack them after that, since there was a treaty with the Emir of Basrah, allowing the pilgrims a safe and free passage towards Mecca, for which the Emir paid yearly a sum of money to the Sultan of Nejed. But Almasta knew nothing of this, for she was wholly ignorant of the desert; and moreover Abdullah was a cautious man, who held that whatsoever is to be kept secret must not be uttered aloud, though there be no one within three days' journey to hear it. Abdullah treated her with great consideration, not obliging her to weary herself overmuch with cooking and other work of the tents. For he rejoiced in her beauty and in the sweetness of her voice, and his chief delight was to sit in the door of the tent at night, chewing frankincense, while Almasta sat within, close behind him, and told him tales of her own country, or of the life in the palace of Riad. The latter indeed was as strange to him as the former, and much more interesting. Now one evening they were alone together in this manner, and it was not yet very cold. But the stars shone brightly as though there would be a frost before morning, and the other tents were all closed and no one was near the coals which remained from the fire after baking the blanket-bread. One might hear the chewing of the camels in the dark and the tramping of a mare that moved slowly about, her hind feet being chained together. 'Tell me more of the palace at Riad,' said Abdullah. 'For your Kura, and your snow-covered Kasbek, and your Tiflis with its warm springs and gardens, I shall never see. But I have seen the courts of the palace from my youth, and the Sultan's kahwah, and the latticed windows of the harem, from which you say that you saw me and loved me in the last days of summer.' Almasta had said this to please him, though it was not true. For she knew that men easily believe what flatters them, as women believe that what they desire must come to pass. 'The palace is a wonderful palace,' said Almasta, 'and I will tell you of the treasures which are in it.' 'That is what I wish to hear,' answered Abdullah, putting a piece of frankincense into his mouth and beginning to chew it. 'Tell me of the treasures, for it is said that they are great and of extraordinary value.' 'The value of them cannot be calculated, O Abdullah, for if you had seventy thousand hands and on each hand seventy thousand fingers you could not count upon your fingers in a whole lifetime the gold sherifs and sequins and tomans which are hidden away there in bags. Beneath the court of strangers there is a great chamber built of stone in which the sacks of gold are kept, and they are piled up to the roof of the vault on all sides and in the middle, leaving only narrow passages between.' 'If it is all gold, what is the use of the passages?' asked Abdullah. 'I do not know, but they are there, and there is another room filled with silver in the same manner. There are also secret places underground in which jewels are kept in chests, rubies and pearls and Indian diamonds and emeralds, in such quantities that they would suffice to make necklaces of a thousand rows each for each of the mountains in my country. And we have many mountains, great ones, not such as the little hills you have seen, but several days' journey in height. For we say that when the Lord made the earth it was at first unsteady, and He set our mountains upon it, in the middle, to make it firm, and it has never moved since.' 'I do not believe this,' said Abdullah. 'Tell me more about the jewels in Riad.' 'There is no end of them. They are like the grains of sand in the desert, and no one of them is worth less than a thousand gold sherifs. I do not even know the names of the different kinds, but there are turquoises without number, of the Maidan, and all good, so that you may write upon them with a piece of gold as with a pen; and there are red stones as large as a dove's egg, red and fiery as the wine of Kachetia, and others, blue as the sky in winter, and yellow ones, and some with leaves of gold in them, like morsels of treng floating in the juice. But besides the gold and silver and precious stones there are thousands of rich garments which are kept in chests of fragrant wood, in upper chambers, abas woven of gold and silk and linen, and vests embroidered with pearls, and shoes of which even the soles appear to be of gold. And there are great pieces of stuff, Indian silk, and Persian velvet, and even satin from Stamboul, woven by unbelievers with the help of devils. Then too, in the palace of Riad, there are stored great quantities of precious weapons, most of them made in Syria, with many swords of Sham, which you say are the best, though I do not understand the matter, each having an inscription in letters of gold upon the blade, and the hilt most cunningly chiselled in the same metal, or carved out of ivory.' 'I saw the treasure of Haïl when we took it away after the war, and most of it was distributed among us, but there was nothing like this,' said Abdullah. 'The treasure of Haïl is to the treasure of Riad, as a small black fly walking upon the face of the sun,' answered Almasta. 'And yet there was wealth there also, and there was much which you never saw. For that Khaled, who is now Sultan, is crafty and avaricious, and he loaded many camels secretly by night, being helped by black slaves, all of whom he slew afterwards with his own hand lest they should tell the tale, and he then called camel-drivers and sent them away with the beasts to Riad. And he said to them: "These are certain loads of fine wheat and of mellow dates, for the Sultan's table, such as cannot be found in Riad." But he sent a letter to his father-in-law, who caused all the packs to be taken immediately to one of the secret chambers, where he and his daughter Zehowah took out the jewels and stored them with their own. And as for me, I believe that Khaled made an end of the Sultan himself by means of poison in Dereyiyah, for he rode away suddenly after they had met, as though his conscience smote him.' 'What is this evil tale which you are telling me?' cried Abdullah. 'Surely, it is a lie, for Khaled is a brave man who gives every one his due and deceives no one. And he is by no means subtle, for I have heard him in council, and he generally said only, "Smite," but sometimes he said "Strike," and that was all his eloquence. But whether he said the one or the other, he was generally the first to follow his own advice which, indeed, by the merciful dispensation of Allah, procured us the victory. But what is this tale which you have invented?' 'And who is this Khaled whom you praise?' asked Almasta. 'And how can you know his craftiness as I know it, who have lived in the palace and braided his wife's hair, and brought him drink when he was thirsty? Is he a man of your tribe whose descent you can count upon your fingers, from him to his grandfather and to Ishmael and Abraham? Or is he a man of a tribe known to you, and whose generations you also know? Has any man called him Khaled ibn Mohammed, or Khaled ibn Abdullah? Or has he ever spoken of his father, who is probably now drinking boiling water, and the black angels are pounding his head with iron maces. Yet he says that he came from the desert. Then you, who are of the desert, do not know the desert, for you do not know whence he is. But there are those who do know, and he fears them, lest they should tell the truth and destroy him.' 'These are idle tales,' said Abdullah. 'Is it probable that the Sultan would have bestowed his daughter and all the treasures you have described upon such a man without having made inquiries concerning his family? And if the Sultan said nothing to us about it, and if Khaled holds his peace, they have doubtless their reasons. For it may be that there is a blood feud between the people of Khaled and some great person in Riad, so that he would be in danger of his life if he revealed his father's name. Allah knows. It is not our business.' 'O Abdullah, you are simple, and you believe all things!' cried Almasta. 'But I heard of him in Basrah.' 'What did you hear in Basrah? And how could you have heard of him there?' 'I was in the Emir's harem, being kept there to rest from the journey after they had brought me from the north. And there I heard of Khaled, for the women talked of him, having been told tales about him by a merchant who was admitted to the palace.' 'Now this is great folly,' answered Abdullah. 'For Khaled came suddenly to Riad, and was married immediately to Zehowah, and on the next day he went out with us against Haïl, which we took from the Shammar in three weeks' time from the day of our marching. Moreover we found you there in the palace. How then could news of Khaled have reached Basrah before you left that place?' 'I had come to Haïl but the day before you attacked the city,' said Almasta. 'But did I say that I had heard of him as already married to Zehowah?' For she saw that she had run the risk of being found out in a lie, and she made haste to defend herself. 'What did you hear of him?' asked Abdullah. 'He was a notable fellow and a robber,' answered Almasta. 'For he is a Persian, and a Shiyah, who offers prayers to Ali in secret. But because he had done many outrageous deeds, a great price was set upon his head throughout Persia, so he fled into Arabia and by his boldness and craft he married Zehowah. And now he has made a secret covenant to deliver over the kingdom of Nejed to the Persians.' Then Abdullah laughed aloud. 'Who shall deliver over the Bedouin to a white-faced people, who live on boiled chestnuts and ride astride of a camel? And when a man has got a kingdom, why should he give it up to any one, except under force?' 'There is a reason for this, too,' Almasta answered unabashed. 'For the King of the Persians, whom they call the Padeshah, has an only daughter, of great beauty, and Khaled is to receive her in marriage as the price of Nejed. Then he will by treachery destroy the Padeshah's sons and will inherit Persia also, as he has inherited Nejed; and after that he will make war upon the Romans in Stamboul and will become the master of the whole world.' 'This is a strange tale, and seems full of madness,' said Abdullah. 'I do not believe it. Tell me rather a story of your own country, and afterwards we will sleep, for to-morrow we will leave this place.' 'I will tell you a wonderful history, which is quite true,' answered Almasta. 'Take this fresh piece of frankincense which I have prepared for you, and put it into your mouth, for you will then not interrupt me with questions while I am speaking.' So Abdullah took the savoury gum and chewed it, and Almasta told him the tale which here follows. 'There is in the north, beyond Persia, a great and prosperous kingdom, lying between two seas, and resembling paradise for its wonderful beauty. All the hills are covered with trees of every description in which innumerable birds make their nests, all of a beautiful plumage and good for man to eat. And in these forests there are also great herds of animals, whose name I do not know in Arabic, having branching horns and kindred to the little beast which you call the cow of the desert, but far better to eat and as large as full-grown camels. A man who is hungry need only shoot an arrow at a venture, for the birds and animals are so numerous that he will certainly hit something. This kingdom is watered everywhere by rivers and streams abounding in fish, all good to eat and easily caught, and all the valleys are filled with vineyards of black and white grapes. But the people of this country are chiefly Christians. May Allah send them enlightenment! Now the King was an old man, who delighted in feasting and cared little for the affairs of the nation, preferring a lute to a sword, and a wine-cup to a shield, and the feet of dancing girls to the hoofs of war horses. He had no son to go out to war for him, but only one beautiful daughter.' 'Like the Sultan of our country who died,' said Abdullah. 'Very much. There were also other points of resemblance. Now there was a certain Tartar in the kingdom of Samarkand, called Ismaïl, who was a robber and had destroyed many caravans on the march, and had broken into many houses both in Samarkand and Tashkent, a notable evildoer. But having one day stolen a fleet mare from the Sultan's stables, the soldiers pursued him, and in order to escape impalement he fled. No one could catch him because the mare he had stolen was the fleetest in Great Tartary. So he rode westward through many countries, and by the shores of the inland sea, until he came to the kingdom which I have described. There he hid himself in the forest for some time and waylaid travellers, making them tell him all that they knew of the kingdom, and afterwards killing them. But when he had obtained all that he wanted, both rich garments and splendid weapons, and the necessary information, he left the forest and rode into the capital city. Then he went to the King and desired of him a private audience, which was granted. He said that he was the son of a powerful Christian prince, and had been taken captive by the Tartars, but had escaped, and he offered to make all Tartary subject to the King, if only he might marry his daughter. And whether by magic, or by eloquence, he succeeded, for the King was old and feeble-minded. But soon after the wedding, he poisoned his father-in-law and became king in his place, though there were many in the land who had a better right, being closely connected with the royal blood.' 'This is the story of Khaled,' said Abdullah. 'I know the truth. Why do you weary me, trying to deceive me, and calling him a robber? But it is true that in Nejed there are men of good descent who have a better right to sit on the throne.' 'Hear what followed,' answered Almasta. 'This man Ismaïl afterwards took captive a woman of the Tartars, who knew who he was, though he supposed her ignorant. And he gave her in marriage to the youngest and bravest of his captains, a man to whom Allah had vouchsafed the tongue of eloquence, and the teeth of strength, and the lips of discretion to close together and hide both at the proper season. The woman told her husband who Ismaïl was, and instructed him concerning the palace, its passages and secret places, and the treasures that were hidden there. And she told him also that Ismaïl had made a covenant with the Sultan of his own country, which would bring destruction upon the nation he now ruled. For she loved her husband on account of his youth and beauty, and she had embraced his faith and was ready to die for him.' 'The husband's name was Abdullah,' said Abdullah. 'And he also loved his wife, who surpassed other women in beauty, as a bay mare surpasses pigs.' 'He afterwards loved her still better,' answered Almasta, 'for though he was only chief over four hundred tents, she gave him a kingdom. Hear what followed. But I will call him Abdullah if you please, though his name was Mskhet.' 'Allah is merciful! There are no such names in Arabia. This one is like the breaking of earthen vessels upon stones. Call him Abdullah.' 'Abdullah therefore went to the wisest and most discreet of his kindred, and spoke to them of the great treasures which were hidden in the palace, and he pointed out to their obscured sight that all this wealth had been got by them and their fathers in war, and had been taken in tithes from the people, and was now in the possession of Ismaïl. And they talked among themselves and saw that this was indeed true. And at another time, he told them that Ismaïl was not really of their religion, but a hypocrite. And again a third time he told them the whole truth, so that their hearts burned when they knew that their King was but a robber who had been condemned to death. Though they were discreet men, the story was in some way told abroad among the soldiers, doubtless by the intervention of angels, so that all the people knew it, and were angry against Ismaïl and ready to break out against him so soon as a man could be found to lead them.' 'But,' said Abdullah, 'this Ismaïl doubtless had a strong guard of soldiers about him, and had given gifts to his captains, and shown honour to them, so that they were attached to him.' 'Undoubtedly,' replied Almasta, 'and but for his wife, Abdullah could not have succeeded. She advised him to go to his discreet kindred and friends and say to them, "See, if you will afterwards support me, I will go alone into the palace and will get the better of this Ismaïl, when he is asleep, and I will so do that the soldiers shall not oppose me. And afterwards, you will all enter together and the treasure shall be divided. But we will throw some of it to the people, lest they be disappointed." And so he did. For his wife knew the secret entrances to the palace and took him in with her by night, disguised as a woman. And they went together silently into the harem, and slew Ismaïl and bound his wife, and took the keys of the treasure chambers from under the pillow. After this they took from the gold as many bags as there were soldiers, and waked each man, giving him a sack of sherifs, and bidding him take as much more as he could find, for the King was dead. Then Abdullah's friends were admitted and they divided the treasure, and went abroad before it was day, calling upon the people that Ismaïl was dead and that a man of their own nation was King in his place, and scattering handfuls of gold into every house as they passed. And, behold, before the second call to prayer, Abdullah was King, and all the people came and did homage to him. And Abdullah himself was astonished when he saw how easy it had been, and loved his wife even better than before.' So Almasta finished her tale and there was silence for a time, while Abdullah sat still and gazed at the closed tents in the starlight, and listened to the distant chewing of the camels. 'Give me some water,' he said at last. 'I am very thirsty.' She brought him drink from the skin, and soon afterwards he lay down to rest. But they said nothing more to each other that night of the story which Almasta had told. On the following day they journeyed fully eleven hours, to a place where there was much water, and in the evening, when the camels were chewing, and all the Bedouins had eaten and were resting in their tents, Abdullah sat again in his accustomed place. 'Almasta, light of my darkness,' he said, 'I would gladly hear again something of the tale you told me last night, for I have not remembered it well, being overburdened with the cares of my people and the direction of the march. Surely you said that when the woman and her husband had killed Ismaïl they took the keys of the treasure chambers from under his pillow. Is it not so?' 'They did so, Abdullah,' 'And they immediately went and took the gold and gave it to the guards? But I have forgotten, for it is a matter of little importance, being but a tale.' 'That is what they did,' answered Almasta. 'But surely this is a fable. How could the woman know the way to the treasure chambers and find it in the dark? For you said also that these secret places were underground and therefore a great way from the harem.' 'I did not say that, Abdullah, for the secret places underground are those in Riad, which I described to you before I began the other story.' 'This may be true, for I am very forgetful. But I daresay that the treasures in the city you described were also hidden in similar places.' 'Since you speak of this, I remember that it was so. The glorious light of your intelligence penetrates the darkness of my memory and makes it clear. The places were exactly similar.' 'How then could the woman, who only knew the harem, find her way in the dark, and lead her husband, to a part of the palace which she had never visited? This is a hard thing.' 'It was not hard for her. She had seen Ismaïl open with his key a door in his sleeping chamber, and he had gone in and after some time had returned bearing sacks of gold pieces. Was this a hard thing? Or does a wise man make two doors to his treasure-house, the one for himself and the other for thieves? The one leading to his own chamber, for his own use, and the other opening upon the highway for the convenience of robbers? It is possible, but I think not. Ismaïl had but one door. He was not an Egyptian jackass.' 'This is reasonable,' said Abdullah. 'And I am now satisfied. But my imagination was not at rest, for the story is a good one and deserves to be well told.' After this Abdullah wandered for a long time with the Bedouins who accompanied him, often changing his direction, so that they wondered whither he was leading them, and began to question him. But he answered that he had heard secretly of a great spoil to be taken, and that they should all have a share of it, and whenever they came upon Arabs of another tribe Abdullah invited the sheikh and the most notable men to his tent and entertained them sumptuously with camel's meat, afterwards talking long with them in private. Before many weeks had passed, the skilful men of the tribe, who knew the signs, were aware that many other Bedouins were travelling in the same direction as themselves, though they could not be seen. But neither Abdullah's men, nor Almasta herself, could know that in three months the sheikhs of all the tribes from Hasa to Harb, and from Ajman to El Kora, had heard that Khaled the Sultan was a Persian robber, and a Shiyah at heart, venerating Ali and execrating the true Sonna, a man who in all probability drank wine in secret, and who was certainly plotting to deliver up all Nejed to the power of the Ajjem. Some of them believed the tale readily enough, for all had asked whence Khaled was and none had got an answer. Could a man be of the desert, they asked, and yet not be known by name in any of the tribes, nor his father before him? Surely, there was a secret, they said, and he who will not tell the name of his father has a reason for changing his own. And as for his being brave and having fought well in the war with the Shammar, how could a man have been a robber if he were not brave, and why should he not fight manfully, since he had everything to gain and nothing to lose? As for the spoils, too, he had made a pretence of dividing them justly, but it was now well known that he had laden camels by stealth at Haïl and had sent them secretly to Riad, slaughtering with his own hand all those who had helped him. Little by little, too, the story came to Riad and was told in a low voice by merchants in the bazar, and repeated by their wives among their acquaintance, and by the slaves in the market and among the beggars who begged by the doors of the great mosque but were fed daily from the palace. And though many persons of the better sort thought that the story might be true, and wagged their heads when Khaled's name was spoken, yet the beggars with one accord declared that it was a lie. For Khaled was generous in almsgiving, and they said, 'If Khaled is overthrown and another Sultan set up in his place, how do we know whether there will be boiled camel's meat from time to time as well as blanket-bread and a small measure of barley meal? And will the next Sultan scatter gold in the streets as Khaled did on the first day when he rode to the mosque? Truly these chatterers of Bedouins talk much of the treasure in the palace which will be divided, but they who talk most of gold, are they who most desire it, and we shall get none. Therefore we say it is a lie, and Khaled is a true man, and a Sonna like ourselves, not a swiller of wine nor a devourer of pigs. Allah show him mercy now and at the day of resurrection! The cock-sparrow is pluming his breast while the hunter is pulling the string of the snare.' Thus the beggars talked among themselves all day, reasoning after the manner of their kind. But they suffered other people to talk as they pleased, for one who desires alms must not exhibit a contradictory disposition, lest the rich man be offended and eat the melon together with the melon peels, and exclaim that the dirt-scraper has become a preacher. For the rich man's anger is at the edge of his nostrils and always ready. As the winter passed away and the spring began, the tribes of the desert drew nearer and nearer to the city, as is their wont at that season. For many of the sheikhs had houses in the city, in which they spent the hot months of the year, while their people were encamped in the low hill country not far off, where the heat is less fierce than in the plains and the deserts. And now also the season of the Haj was approaching, for Ramadhan was not far off, and the beggars congregated at the gates waiting for the first pilgrims, and expecting plentiful alms, which in due time they received, for in that year Abdullah did not molest the Persian pilgrimage, his mind being occupied with other matters. CHAPTER IX The story which was thus repeated from mouth to mouth in Riad reached the palace at the last, and the guards told it to each other as they sat together under the shadow of the great wall, the cooks related it among themselves in the kitchen, and the black slaves gossiped about it in the corners of the courtyard, and the women slaves stood and listened while they talked and carried the tale into the harem. But the people of the palace were more slow to believe than the people of the city, for they shared in a measure in Khaled's right of possession, and desired no change of master, so that for a long time neither Zehowah nor Khaled heard anything of what was commonly reported. Yet at last the old woman who had been Zehowah's nurse told her the substance of the story, with many protestations of unbelief, and of anger against those who had invented the lie. 'It is right that my lady and mistress should know these things,' she said, 'and when our lord the Sultan has been informed of them, he will doubtless cause his soldiers to go forth with sticks and purify the hides of the chief evil-speakers in the bazar. There is one especially, a merchant whose shop is opposite the door of the little mosque, who is continually bold in falsehood, being the same who sold me this garment for linen; but it afterwards turned out to be cotton and the gold threads are brass and have turned black. I pray Allah to be just as well as merciful.' At first Zehowah laughed, but soon afterwards her face became grave, and she bent her brows, for though the story was but a lie she saw how easily it would find credence. She therefore sent the old woman away with a gift and she herself went to Khaled, and sat down beside him and took his hand. 'You have secret enemies,' she said, 'who are plotting against your life, and who have already begun to attack you by filling the air of the city with falsehoods which fly from house to house like flies in summer entering at the window and going out by the door. You must sift this matter, for it is worthy of attention.' 'And what are these lies of which you speak?' 'It is said openly in the city that you are a Shiyah and a Persian, having been a robber before you came here, and that you are plotting to deliver over Nejed to the Persians. Look to this, Khaled, for they say that you are no Bedouin since no one knows your descent nor the name of your father.' 'Do you believe this of me, Zehowah?' Khaled asked. 'Do I believe that the sun is black and the night as white as the sun? But it is true that I do not know your father's name.' Then Khaled was troubled, for he saw that it would be a hard matter to explain, and that without explanation his safety might be endangered. Zehowah sat still beside him, holding his hand and looking into his face, as though expecting an answer. 'Have I done wisely in telling you?' she asked at last. 'You are troubled. I should have said nothing.' 'You have done wisely,' he answered. 'For I will go and speak to them, and if they believe me, the matter is finished, but if not I have lost nothing.' 'It will be well to give the chief men presents, and to distribute something among the people, for gifts are great persuaders of unbelief.' 'Shall I give them presents because they have believed evil of me?' asked Khaled, laughing. 'Rather would I give you the treasures of the whole earth because you have not believed it.' 'If I had the wealth of the whole world I would give it to them rather than that they should hurt a hair of your head,' Zehowah answered. 'Am I more dear to you than so much gold, Zehowah?' 'What is gold that it should be weighed in the balance with the life of a man? You are dearer to me than gold.' 'Is this love, Zehowah?' Khaled asked, in a low voice. 'I do not know whether it be love or not.' 'The wing of night is lifted for a moment, and the false dawn is seen, and afterwards it is night again. But the true dawn will come by and by, when night folds her wings before the day.' 'You speak in a riddle, Khaled.' 'It is no matter. I will neither make a speech to the people, nor give them gifts. What is it to me? Let them chatter from the first call to prayer until the lights are put out in the evening. My fate is about my neck, and I cannot change it, any more than I can make you love me. Allah is great. I will wait and see what happens.' 'Everything is undoubtedly in Allah's hand,' said Zehowah. 'But if a man, having meat set before him, will not raise his right hand to thrust it into the dish, he will die of hunger.' 'And do you think that Allah does not know before whether the man will stretch out his hand or not?' 'Undoubtedly Allah knows. And he also knows that if you will not sift this matter and stop the mouths of the liars, I will, though I am but a woman, for otherwise we may both perish.' 'If they destroy me, yet they cannot take the kingdom from you, nor hurt you,' said Khaled. 'How then are you in danger? If I am slain you will then choose a husband, whose father's name is known to them. They will be satisfied and you will be no worse off than before and possibly better. This is truth. I will therefore wait for the end.' 'Who has put these words into your mouth, Khaled? For the thought is not in your heart. Moreover, if the tribes should rise up and overthrow you, they would not spare me, for I would fight against them with my hands and they would kill me.' 'Why should you fight for me, since you do not love me? But this is folly. No one ever heard of a woman taking arms and fighting.' 'I have heard of such deeds. And if I had not heard of them, others should through me, for I would be the first to do them.' 'I think that so long as Khaled lives, Zehowah need not bear arms,' said Khaled. 'I will therefore go and call the chief men together and speak to them.' And so he did. When the principal officers who had remained in the city during the winter season were assembled in the kahwah, and had hung up their swords on the pegs and partaken of a refreshment, Khaled sent the slaves away, and spoke in a few words as was his manner. 'Men of Riad, Aared and all Nejed,' he said, 'I regret that more of you are not present here, but a great number of sheikhs are still in the desert, and it cannot be helped. I desire to tell you that I have heard of a tale concerning me which is circulated from mouth to ear throughout Riad and the whole kingdom. This tale is untrue, a lie such as no honest man repeats even to his own wife at home in the harem. For it is said that I am not called Khaled, but perhaps Ali Hassan, or perhaps Ali Hussein, that I am a Shiyah, a wine-bibber and an idolatrous one who prays for the intercession of Ali, besides being a Persian and a robber. It is also said that I plot to deliver over the kingdom of Nejed to the Persians, though how this could be done I do not know, seeing that the Persians are a meal-faced people of white jackals who do not know how to ride a camel. These are all lies. I swear by Allah.' When the men heard these words, they looked stealthily one at another, to see who would answer Khaled, for they had all heard the story and most of them were inclined to believe it. Peace is the mother of evil-speaking, as garbage breeds flies in a corner, which afterwards fly into clean houses and men ask whence they come. But none of the chief men found anything to say at first, so that Khaled sat in silence a long time, waiting for some one to speak. He therefore turned to the one nearest to him, and addressed him. 'Have you heard this tale?' he inquired. 'And if you have heard it do you believe it?' 'I think, indeed, that I have heard something of the kind,' answered the man. 'But it was as the chattering of an uncertain vision in a dream, which rings in the ears for a moment while it is yet dark in the morning, but is forgotten when the sun rises. By the instrumentality of a just mind Allah caused that which entered at one ear to run out from the other as the rinsing of a water-skin.' 'Good,' answered Khaled. 'Yet it is not well to rinse the brains with falsehoods. And you?' he inquired, turning to the next. 'Have you heard it also?' 'Just lord, I have heard,' replied this one. 'But if I have believed, may my head be shaved with a red-hot razor having a jagged edge.' 'This is well,' Khaled said, and he questioned a third. 'O Khaled!' cried the man. 'Is the milk sour, because the slave has imagined a lie saying, "I will say it is bad and then it will be given to me to drink"? Or is honey bitter because the cook has put salt in the sweetmeats? Or is it night because the woman has shut the door and the window, to keep out the sun?' The next also found an answer, having collected his thoughts while the others were speaking. 'A certain man,' said he, 'kept sheep in Tabal Shammar, and the dog was with the sheep in the fold. Then two foxes came to the fold in the evening and one of them said to the man: "All dogs are wolves, for we have seen their like in the mountains, and your dog is also a wolf and will eat up your sheep. Make haste to kill him therefore and cast out his carcass." And to the sheep the other fox said: "How many sheep hang by the heels at the butcher's! And how many dogs live in sheepfolds! This is an evil world for innocent people." And the sheep were at first persuaded, but presently the dog ran out and caught one of the foxes and broke his neck, and the man threw a stone at the other and hit him, so that he also died. Then the sheep said one to another: "The foxes have suffered justly, for they were liars and robbers and the dog and our master have protected us against them, which they would not have done had they desired our destruction." And so are the people, O Khaled. For if you let the liars go unhurt the people will believe them, but if you destroy them the faith of the multitude will be turned again to you.' 'This is a fable,' said Khaled, 'and it is not without truth. I am the sheep-dog and the people are the sheep. But in the name of Allah, which are the foxes?' Then he turned to another, an old man who was the Kadi, celebrated for his wisdom and for his religious teaching in the chief mosque. 'I ask you last of all,' said Khaled, 'because you are the wisest, and when the wisest words are heard last they are most easily remembered. For we first put water into the lamp, and then oil to float upon the surface, and next the wick, and last of all we take a torch and light the lamp and the darkness disappears. Light our lamp, therefore, O Kadi, and let us see clearly.' 'O Khaled,' replied the Kadi, 'I am old and have seen the world. You cannot destroy the tree by cutting off one or two of its branches. It is necessary to strike at the root. Now the root of this tree of lies which has grown up is this. Neither we nor the people know whence you are, nor what was your father's name, and though I for my part do not impiously ask whence Allah takes the good gifts which he gives to men, there are many who are not satisfied, and who will go about in jealousy to make trouble until their questioning is answered. If you ask counsel of me, I say, tell us here present of what tribe you are, for we believe you a pure Bedouin like the best of us, and tell us your father's name, and peace be upon him. We are men in authority and will speak to the people, and I will address them from the pulpit of the great mosque, and they will believe us. Then all will be ended, and the lies will be extinguished as the coals of an evening fire go out when the night frost descends upon the camp in winter. But if you will not tell us, yet I, for one, do not believe ill of you; and moreover you are lord, and we are vassals, so long as you are King and hold good and evil in your hand.' 'So long as I am King,' Khaled repeated. 'And you think that if I do not tell my father's name, I shall not be where I am for a long time.' 'Allah is wise, and knows,' answered the Kadi, but he would say nothing more. 'This is plain speaking,' said Khaled, 'such as I like. But I might plainly take advantage of it. You desire to know my father's name and whence I come. Then is it not easy for me to say that I come from a distant part of the Great Dahna? Is there a man in Nejed who has crossed the Red Desert? And if I say that my father was Mohammed ibn Abd el Hamid ibn Abd el Latif, and so on to our father Ismaïl, upon whom be peace, shall any one deny that I speak truth? This is a very easy matter.' 'So much the more will it be easy for us to satisfy the people,' answered the Kadi. 'No doubt. I will think of what you have said. And now, I pray you, partake of another refreshment and go in peace.' At this all the chief men looked one at the other again, for they saw that Khaled would not tell them what they wished to know. And those of them who had doubted the story before now began to believe it. But they held their peace, and presently made their salutation and took their swords from the wall and departed. Khaled then left the kahwah and returned to Zehowah in the harem. 'I have told them that these tales are lies,' he said, 'but they do not believe me.' He repeated to Zehowah all that had been said, and she listened attentively, for she began to understand that there was danger not far off. 'And I told them,' he said at last, 'that it would be as easy for me to invent names, as for them to hear them. Then they looked sideways each at the other and kept silent.' 'This is a foolish thing which you have done,' answered Zehowah. 'They will now all believe that your father was an evildoer and that you yourself are no better. Otherwise, they will say, why should he wish to conceal anything? You should have told them the truth, whatever it is.' 'You also wish to know it, I see,' said Khaled, looking at Zehowah curiously. 'But if I were to tell you, you would not believe me, I think, any more than they would.' Then Zehowah looked at him in her turn, but he could not understand the language of her eyes. 'What is this secret of yours?' she asked. 'I would indeed like to hear it, and if you swear to me that it is true, by Allah, I will believe you. For you are a very truthful man, and not subtle.' But Khaled was troubled at this. For he knew that she would find it hard to believe; and that if she did believe it, she would be terrified to think that she had married one of the genii, and if not, she would suspect him of a hidden purpose in telling her an empty fable, and he would then be further from her love than before. He held his peace, therefore, for some time, while she watched him, playing with her beads. In reality she was very curious to know the truth, though she had always been unwilling to ask it of him, seeing that she had married him as a stranger, of her own will and choice, without inquiry. 'Is it just,' she asked at last, 'that the people should accuse you of evil deeds and fill the air of the city with falsehoods concerning you, so that the very slaves hear the guards repeating the lies to each other in the courtyard, and that I, who am your wife, should not know the truth? What have I done that you should not trust me? Or what have I said that you should regard me no more than a slave who sprinkles the floor and makes the fire, and while she is present in the room you hold your peace lest she should know your thoughts and betray them? Am I not your wife, and faithful? Have I not given you a kingdom and treasure beyond counting? Surely there were times when you talked more freely with that barbarian slave-woman, whose hair was red, than you ever talk with me.' 'This is not true,' said Khaled. 'And if I talked familiarly with Almasta, you know the reason, for you yourself found it out, and called me simple for trying to deceive you. And now she is gone to the desert with her husband and there is no more question of her, or her red hair. But all the rest is true, and you have indeed given me a kingdom, which I am likely to lose and wealth which I do not desire, though you have not given me that which I covet more than gold or kingdoms, for I desire it indeed, and that is your love. Moreover if you have given me the rest, I have done something in return, for I have fought for your people, and shed my blood freely, and given you a nation captive, besides loving you and refusing to take another wife into my house. And this last is a matter of which some women would think more highly than you.' But Zehowah's curiosity was burning within her like a thirst, for although she had at first cared little to know of Khaled's former life, she was astonished at his persistency in keeping the secret now, seeing that the whole country was full of false rumours about him. 'How can a man expect that a woman should love him, if he will not put his trust in her?' she asked. Then Khaled did not hesitate any longer, for he was never slow to do anything by which there seemed to be any hope of gaining her love. He therefore took her hand in his, and it trembled a little so that he was pleased, though indeed the unsteadiness came more from her anxiety to know the story he was about to tell, than from any love she felt at that moment. 'You have sworn that you will believe me, Zehowah,' he said. 'But I forewarn you that there are hard things to understand. For the reason why I will not tell my father's name, nor the name of my tribe is a plain one, seeing that I was not born like other men, and have no father at all, and my brethren are not men but genii of the air, created from the beginning and destined to die at the second blast of the trumpet before the resurrection of the dead.' At this Zehowah started suddenly in fright and looked into his face, expecting to see that he had coals of fire for eyes and an appalling countenance. But when she saw that he was not changed and had the face of a man and the eyes of a man, she laughed. 'What is this idle tale of Afrits?' she exclaimed. 'Frighten children with it.' 'This is what I foresaw in you,' said Khaled. 'You cannot believe me. Of what use is it then to tell you my story?' Zehowah answered nothing, for she was angry, supposing that Khaled was attempting to put her off with a foolish tale. She had heard, indeed, of Genii and Afrits and she was sure that they had existence, since they were expressly mentioned in the Koran, but she had never heard that any of them had taken the shape and manner of a man. She remembered also how Khaled had always fought with his hands in war, like other men and been wounded, and she was sure that if his story were true he would have summoned whole legions of his fellows through the air to destroy the enemy. 'You do not believe me,' he repeated somewhat bitterly. 'And if you do not believe me, how shall others do so?' 'You ask me to believe too much. If you ask for my faith, you must offer me truths and not fables. It is true that I am curious, which is foolish and womanly. But if you do not wish to tell me your secret, I cannot force you to do so, nor have I any right to expect confidence. Let us therefore talk of other things, or else not talk at all, for though you will not satisfy me you cannot deceive me in this way.' 'So you also believe that I am a Persian and a robber,' said Khaled. 'Is it not so?' 'How can I tell what you are, if you will not tell me? Is your name written in your face that I may know it is indeed Khaled and not Ali Hassan as the people say? Or is the record of your deeds inscribed upon your forehead for me to read? You may be a Persian. I cannot tell.' Then Khaled bent his brows and turned his eyes away from her, for he was angry and disappointed, though indeed she knew in her heart that he was no Persian. But she let him suppose that she thought so, hoping perhaps to goad him into satisfying her curiosity. If Khaled had been a man like other men, as Zehowah supposed him to be, he would doubtless have invented a well-framed history such as she would have believed, at least for the present. But to him such a falsehood appeared useless, for he had seen the world during many ages and had observed that a lie is never really successful except by chance, seeing that no intelligence is profound enough to foresee the manner in which it will be some day examined, whereas the truth, being always coincident with the reality, can never be wholly refuted. Khaled therefore hesitated as to whether he should tell his story from the beginning, or hold his peace; but in the end he decided to speak, because it was intolerable to him to be thought an evildoer by her. 'You make haste to disbelieve, before you have heard all,' he said at last. 'Hear me to the end. I have told you that I slew the Indian prince. That was before I became a man. You yourself could not understand how I was able to enter the palace and carry him away without being observed. But as I was at that time able to fly and to make both myself and him invisible, this need not surprise you. If you do not believe that I did it, let us order a litter to be brought for you, and I will take my mare and a sufficient number of attendants, and let us ride southwards into the Red Desert. There I will show you the man's bones. You will probably recognise them by the gold chain which he wore about his neck and by his ring. After that, when I had buried him, the messenger of Allah came to me, and because the man was an unbeliever, and had intended to embrace the faith outwardly, having evil in his heart, Allah did not destroy me immediately, but commanded that the angel Asrael should write my name in the book of life, that I might become a man. But Allah gave me no soul, promising only that if I could win your love, whose suitor I had killed, I should receive an immortal spirit, which should then be judged according to my deeds. This is truth. I swear it in the name of Allah, the merciful, the compassionate. Then an angel gave me garments such as men wear, and a sword, and a good mare, and I travelled hither to Riad, eating locusts for food. And though no man knew me, you married me at once, for it was the will of Allah, whose will shall also be done to the end. The rest you know. If, therefore, you will love me before I die, I shall receive a soul and it may be that I shall inherit paradise, for I am a true believer and have shed blood for the faith. But if you do not love me, when I die I shall perish as the flame of a lamp that is blown out at dawn. This is the truth.' He ceased from speaking and looked again at Zehowah. At first he supposed from her face that she believed him, and his heart was comforted, but presently she smiled, and he understood that she was not convinced. For the story had interested her greatly and she had almost forgotten not to believe it, but when she no longer heard his voice, it seemed too hard for her. 'This is a strange tale,' she said, 'and it will probably not satisfy the people.' 'I do not care whether they are satisfied or not,' Khaled answered. 'All I desire is to be believed by you, for I cannot bear that you should think me what I am not.' 'What can I do? I cannot say to my intelligence, take this and reject that, any more than I can say to my heart, love or love not. It would indeed have been easier if you had said, "I am a certain Persian, a fugitive, protect me, for my enemies are upon me." I could perhaps give you protection if you require it, as you may. But you come to me with a monstrous tale, and you ask me to love, not a man, but a Jinn or an Afrit, or whatever it pleases you to call yourself. Assuredly this is too hard for me.' And again Zehowah smiled scornfully, for she was really beginning to think that he might be a Persian disguised as the people said. 'I need no protection from man or woman,' said Khaled, 'for I fear neither the one nor the other. For I am strong, and if I am able to give out of charity I am also able to take by force. My fate is ever with me. I cannot escape it. But neither can others escape theirs. I will fight alone if need be, for if you will not love me I care little how I may end. Moreover, in battle, it is not good to stand in the way of a man who seeks death.' But Zehowah thought this might be the speech of a desperate man such as Ali Hassan, the robber, as well as of Khaled, the Jinn, and she was not convinced, though she no longer smiled. For she knew little of supernatural beings, and a devil might easily call himself a good spirit, so that she was convinced that she was married either to a demon or to a dangerous robber, and she could not even decide which of the two she would have preferred, for either was bad enough, and as for love there could no longer be any question of that. Khaled understood well enough and rose from his seat and went away, desiring to be alone. He knew that he was now surrounded by danger on every side and that he could not even look to his wife for comfort, since she also believed him to be an impostor. 'Truly,' he said to himself, 'this is a task beyond accomplishment, which Allah has laid upon me. It is harder to get a woman's love than to win kingdoms, and it is easier to destroy a whole army with one stroke of a sword than to make a woman believe that which she does not desire. And now the end is at hand. For she will never love me and I shall certainly perish in this fight, being alone against so many. Allah assuredly did not intend me to run away, and moreover there is no reason left for remaining alive.' On that day Khaled again called the chief men together in his kahwah, and addressed them briefly. 'Men of Riad,' he said, 'I am aware that there is a conspiracy to overthrow and destroy me, and I daresay that you yourselves are among the plotters. I will not tell you who I am, but I swear by Allah that I am neither a Persian nor a robber, nor yet a Shiyah. You will doubtless attack me unawares, but you will not find me sleeping. I will kill as many of you as I can, and afterwards I also shall undoubtedly be killed, for I am alone and you have many thousands on your side. Min Allah--it is in Allah's hands. Go in peace.' So they departed, shaking their heads, but saying nothing. CHAPTER X The Sheikh of the beggars was an old man, blind from his childhood, but otherwise strong and full of health, delighting in quarrels and swift to handle his staff. He had at first become a beggar, being still a young man, for his father and mother had died without making provision for him, and he had no brothers. As he boasted that he was of the pure blood of the desert on both sides, the other beggars jeered at him in the beginning, calling him Ibn el Sheikh in derision and sometimes stealing his food from him. But he beat them mightily, the just and the unjust together, since he could not see, and acquired great consideration amongst them, after which he behaved generously, giving his share with the rest for the common good, and something more. His companions learned also that his story was true and that his blood was as good as any from Ajman to El Kara, for a Bedouin of the same tribe as Abdullah, the husband of Almasta, came to see him not less than once every year, and called him brother and filled his sack with barley. This Bedouin was a person of consideration, also, as the beggars saw from his having a mare of his own, provided with a good saddle, and from his weapons. In the course of time therefore the blind man grew great in the eyes of his fellows, until they called him Sheikh respectfully, and waited on him when he performed his ablutions, and he obtained over them a supremacy as great as was Khaled's over the kingdom he governed. He was very wise also, acquainted with the interpretation of dreams, and able to recite various chapters of the Koran. It was even said that he was able to distinguish a good man from a bad by the sound of his tread, though some thought that he only heard the jingling of coins in the girdle, and judged by this, having a finer hearing than other men. At all events he was often aware that a person able to give alms was approaching, while his companions were talking among themselves and noticed nothing, though they had eyes to see, being mostly only cripples and lepers. On a certain day in the spring, when the sun was beginning to be hot and not long after Khaled had told Zehowah his story, many of the beggars were sitting in the eastern gate, by which the great road issues out of the city towards Hasa. They expected the coming of the first pilgrims every day, for the season was advancing. And now they sat talking together of the good prospects before them, and rejoicing that the winter was over so that they would not suffer any more from the cold. 'There is a horseman on the road,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, interrupting the conversation. 'O you to whom Allah has preserved the light of day, look forth and tell me who the rider is.' 'It is undoubtedly a pilgrim,' answered a young beggar, who was a stranger but had found his way to Riad without legs, no man knew how. 'Ass of Egypt,' replied the Sheikh reprovingly, 'do pilgrims ride at a full gallop upon steeds of pure blood? But though your eyes are open your ears are deaf with the sleep of stupidity from which there is no awakening. That is a good horse, ridden by a light rider. Truly a man must itch to be called Haji who gallops thus on the road to Mecca.' Then the others looked, and at last one of them spoke, a hunchback having but one eye, but that one was keen. 'O Sheikh,' he said, 'rejoice and praise Allah, for I think it is he whom you call your brother, who comes in from the desert to visit you.' 'If that is the case, I will indeed give thanks,' answered the blind man, 'for there is little in my barley-sack, less in my wallet and nothing at all in my stomach. Allah is gracious and compassionate!' The hunchback's eye had not deceived him, and before long the Bedouin dismounted at the gate and looked about until he saw the Sheikh of the beggars, who indeed had already risen to welcome him. When they had embraced the Bedouin led the blind man along in the shadow of the eastern wall until they were so far from the rest that they might freely talk without being overheard. Then they sat down together, and the mare stood waiting before them. 'O my brother,' the Bedouin began, 'was not my mother the adopted daughter of your uncle, upon whom be peace? And have I not called you brother and filled your barley-sack from time to time these many years?' 'This is true,' answered the Sheikh of the beggars. 'Allah will requite you with seventy thousand days of unspeakable bliss for every grain of barley you have caused to pass my teeth. "Be constant in prayer and in giving alms," says the holy book, "and you shall find with Allah all the good which you have sent before you, for your souls." And it is also said, "Give alms to your kindred, and to the poor and to orphans." I am also grateful for all you have done, and my gratitude grows as a palm tree in the garden of my soul which is irrigated by your charity.' 'It is well, my brother, it is well. I know the uprightness of your heart, and I have not ridden hither from the desert to count the treasure which may be in store for me in paradise. Allah knows the good, as well as the evil. I have come for another purpose. But tell me first, what is the news in the city? Are there no strange rumours afloat of late concerning Khaled the Sultan?' 'In each man's soul there are two wells,' said the blind man. 'The one is the spring of truth, the other is the fountain of lies.' 'You are wise and full of years,' said the Bedouin, 'and I understand your caution, for I also am not very young. But here we must speak plainly, for the time is short in which to act. A sand-storm has darkened the eyes of the men of the desert and they are saying that Khaled is a Shiyah, a Persian and a robber, and that he must be overthrown and a man of our own people made king in his stead.' 'I have indeed heard such a rumour.' 'It is more than a rumour. The tribes are even now assembling towards Riad, and before many days are past the end will come. Abdullah is the chief mover in this. But with your help, my brother, we will make his plotting empty and his scheming fruitless as a twig of ghada stuck into the sand, which will neither strike root nor bear leaves.' When the Sheikh of the beggars heard that he was expected to give help in frustrating Abdullah's plans he was troubled and much astonished. 'Shall the blind sheep go out and fight the lion?' he inquired tremulously. 'Even so,' replied the Bedouin unmoved, 'and, moreover, without danger to himself. Hear me first. Abdullah and his tribe will encamp in the low hills, in a few days, as usual, but somewhat earlier than in other years, and a great number of other Bedouins will be in the neighbouring valleys at the same time. Then Abdullah will come into the city openly and go to his house with his wife and slaves, and during several days he will receive the visits of his friends and return them, and go to the palace and salute Khaled, as though nothing were about to happen. But in the meantime he will make everything ready, for it is his intention to go into the palace at night, disguised in a woman's garment, with his wife, and they will slay Khaled in his sleep, and bind Zehowah, and distribute much treasure among the guards and slaves, and before morning the city will be full of Bedouins all ready to proclaim Abdullah Sultan. And you alone can prevent all this.' But the blind man laughed in his beard. 'This is a good jest!' he cried. 'You have sought out a valiant warrior to stand between the Sultan and death! I am blind and old, and a beggar, and you would have me stand in the path of Abdullah and a thousand armed men. They would certainly laugh, as I do. Let me take with me a few lepers and the Egyptian jackass without legs, who has flown among us lately like a locust out of the clear air. Verily, their strength shall avail against the lances of the desert.' 'This is no jest, my brother,' answered the Bedouin, gravely. 'Neither I, nor a hundred armed horsemen with me could do what you will do unhurt. But I will save Khaled. For in the battle of the pass before we came to Haïl last summer when I had an arrow in my right arm and a spear thrust in my side, certain dogs of Shammars encompassed me, and darkness was already descending upon my eyes when Khaled rode in like a whirlwind of scythes, and sent four of them to hell, where they are now drinking molten brass like thirsty camels. Then I swore by Allah that I would defend him in the hour of need.' 'Why do you not then lie in wait for Abdullah yourself and slay him as he passes you in the dark?' 'Is he not the sheikh of my tribe? How then can I lay a hand on him? But I have thought of this during many nights in my tent, and you alone can do what is needed.' 'Surely this is folly,' said the Sheikh of the beggars. 'You have met a hot wind in the desert and your mind is unsettled by it. I pray you come with me into the city to my dwelling, and take some refreshment, or at least let me send to the well for a drink of water.' 'My head is cool and I am not thirsty, nor is the hot wind blowing at this time of year. Hear me. I will tell you how to save Khaled from destruction, and you shall receive more gold than you have dreamed of, and a house, and rich garments, and a young wife of a good family to comfort your old age. For the deed is easy and safe, but the reward will be great, and you alone can do the one and earn the other.' 'I perceive,' said the blind man, 'that you are indeed in earnest, but I cannot understand what I can do. We know that Khaled is forewarned, for it is not many days since he summoned the chief men in Riad, with the Kadi, to the palace, and refused to tell them the name of his father, but said that if they attacked him he would kill as many of them as he could.' 'I did not know this,' answered the Bedouin. 'But the knowledge does not change my plan. Now hear me. You are the Sheikh of all the beggars in Riad--may Allah send you long life and much gain--they are an army and you are a captain. Moreover the beggars are doubtless attached to Khaled by his generosity, and all of you say in your hearts that under Abdullah there may be more sticks and less barley for you.' 'This is true. But then, my brother, it is otherwise with you, for you are of Abdullah's tribe and will have honour and riches if he is made Sultan. How then is my advantage also yours?' 'And did not this Abdullah in the first place divorce with ignominy his second wife, who is my kinswoman, being the daughter of my father's sister? And has he restored the dowry as the law commands? Truly his new wife is even now sitting upon my cousin's carpet. And secondly Abdullah made himself sheikh unjustly, for our sheikh should be Abdul Kerim's son.' 'Yet you accepted Abdullah and promised him allegiance.' 'Does the camel say to his driver: "I do not like to carry a load of barley, I would rather bear a basket of dates"? "Eat what you please in your tent, but dress as other men," says the proverb. Hear me, for I speak wisdom. Abdullah will come into the city and go to his house, intending to prepare the way for evil. And he will walk about the streets as usual, without attendants, both because he knows that the people are mostly with him, and also in order not to attract notice. Now Abdullah is the spring from which all this wickedness flows, he is the chief camel whom the others follow, the coal in the ashes by which the fire is kept alive, the head without which the body cannot live. Dry up the spring, therefore, let the chief camel fall into a pit suddenly, extinguish the coal, strike off the head. Let them ask in the morning: "Where is he?" And let him not be found anywhere. Then the people will be amazed and will not know what to do, having no leader. This is for you to do, and it can easily be done.' 'What folly is this?' asked the blind man, shaking his head. 'And how can I do what you wish?' 'It is very easy, for I know that you and your companions are as one man, living together for the common good. Go to the beggars therefore and tell them what I have told you, and be not afraid, for they will not betray you. And when Abdullah walks about the city alone lie in wait for him, for you will easily catch him in a narrow street, and two or three score of you can run after him begging for alms, until he is surrounded on all sides. Then fall upon him, and bind him, and take him secretly to one of your dwellings and keep him there, so that none find him, until the storm is past. In this way you will save Khaled and the kingdom, and when all is quiet you can deliver him up to be a laughing-stock at the palace and to all who believed in him. For there is nothing to fear, and I, for my part, am sure that Abdul Kerim's son will immediately be made sheikh of our tribe so that Abdullah will not return to us.' 'You are subtle, my brother,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, smiling and stroking his beard. 'This is a good plan, being very simple, and Khaled will be grateful to us, and honour us beggars exceedingly. Said I not well that the jest was good? Surely it is better than I had thought, and more profitable.' 'I have thought of it long in the nights of winter, both by the camp fire and in my tent and on the march. But I have told no one, nor will tell any one until all is done. But so soon as you have taken Abdullah and hidden him, let me know of it. To this end, when we are encamped outside the city I will come every evening to prayers in the great mosque and afterwards will wait for you near the door. As soon as I know that Abdullah is out of finding I will spread the report that he is lost, and before long all our tribe will give up the search, being indeed glad to get rid of him. And the rest is in the hand of Allah. I have done what I can, you must now do your share.' 'By Allah! You shall not complain of me,' answered the blind man, 'nor of my people, for the jest is surpassingly good, and shall be well carried out.' 'I will therefore go into the city, where I have business,' said the Bedouin. 'For I gave a reason for coming alone to Riad, and must needs show myself there to those who know me.' So the Bedouin filled the blind beggar's sack with barley and dates from his own supply and embraced him and went into the city, but the Sheikh of the beggars remained sitting in the same place for some time, at a distance from the rest, in an attitude of inward contemplation, though he was in reality listening to what the hunchback was telling the new cripple from Egypt. The Sheikh's ears were sharper than those of other men and he heard very clearly what was said. 'This Bedouin,' said the hunchback, 'is a near relation of our Sheikh, and holds him in great veneration, coming frequently to see him even from a considerable distance, and always bringing him a present of food. And you may see by his mare and by his weapons that he is a person of consideration in his tribe. For our Sheikh is not a negro, nor the son of a Syrian camel-driver, but an Arab of the best blood in the desert, and wise enough to sit in the council in the Sultan's palace. You, who are but lately arrived, being transported into our midst by the mercy of Allah, must learn all these things, and you will also find out that our Sheikh has eyes in his ears, and in his fingers and in his staff, though he is counted blind, and you cannot deceive him easily as you might suppose.' The Sheikh of the beggars was pleased when he heard this and listened attentively to hear the answer made by the Egyptian, whom he did not yet trust because he was a newcomer and a stranger. 'Truly,' replied the cripple, 'Allah has been merciful and compassionate to me, for he has brought me into the society of the wise and the good, which is better than much feasting in the company of the ignorant and the ill-mannered. And as for the Sheikh, he is evidently a very holy man, to whom eyes are not in any way necessary, his inward sight being constantly fixed upon heavenly things.' This answer did not altogether please the blind man, for it savoured somewhat of flattery. But the other beggars approved of the speech, deeming that it showed a submissive spirit, and readiness to obey and respect their chief. 'O you of Egypt!' cried the Sheikh, calling to him. 'Come here and sit beside me, for I have heard what you said and desire your company.' The cripple immediately began to crawl along by the wall, dragging himself upon his hands and body, for he had no legs. 'He is obedient,' thought the blind man, 'though it costs him much labour to move.' When the man was beside him, the Sheikh took an onion and a date from his wallet and set them down upon the ground. 'Eat,' he said, 'and give thanks.' The cripple thanked him and taking the food, began to eat the onion. 'You have taken the onion in your right hand and the date in your left,' said the Sheikh. 'And you are eating the onion first.' 'This is true,' answered the Egyptian. 'I see that my lord has indeed eyes in his fingers.' 'I have,' said the Sheikh. 'But that is not all, for this is an allegory. All men like to eat the onion first and the date afterwards, for though the onion be ever so sweet and tender, its taste is bitter when a man has eaten sugar-dates before it. But you have begun by giving us the mellow fruit of flattery, and when you give us the wholesome vegetable of truth it will be too sharp for our palates. Ponder this in your heart, chew it as the camel does her cud, and the well-digested food of wisdom shall nourish your understanding.' The cripple listened in astonishment at the depth of the Sheikh's thought, and he would have spoken out his admiration, but it is not possible to eat an onion and to be eloquent at the same time. The blind man knew this and continued to give him instruction. 'The onion has saved you,' he said, 'for your mouth being full you could say nothing flattering, and now you will think before you speak. Consider how I have treated you. Have I at once rendered thanks to Allah for sending into our midst a young man whose gifts of eloquence are at least equal to those of the Kadi himself? I have said nothing so foolish. I have called you an ass of Egypt and otherwise rebuked you, for the good of your understanding, though I begin to think that you are indeed a very estimable young man, and it is possible that your wit may ripen in our society. But now I perceive by my hearing that you are eating the date. I pray you now, eat another onion after it.' 'I cannot,' answered the cripple, 'for my lips are puckered at the thought of it.' 'Neither is truth sweet after flattery,' said the Sheikh, who then began to eat the other onion himself. 'I will endeavour to profit by your precepts, my lord,' replied the Egyptian. 'Allah will then certainly enlighten you, my son. Remember also another thing. We are ourselves here a community, distinct from the citizens of Riad, and what we do, we do for the common good. Remember therefore to share what you receive with the rest, as they will share what they have with you, and take part with them in whatsoever is done by common consent. In this way it will be well with you and you shall grow fat; but if you are against us you will find evil in every man's hand, for since it has pleased Allah to give you no legs, you cannot possibly run away.' Having said this much the Sheikh of the beggars was silent. But afterwards on the same day he gathered about him the strongest of his companions, being mostly men who had the use of both arms and both legs, though some of them were lepers and some had but one eye, and some were deaf and dumb, according to the affliction which it had pleased Allah to send upon each. These were the most trusty and faithful of his people, and to them he communicated openly what the Bedouin had proposed to him in secret. All of them approved the plan, for they greatly feared the overthrow of Khaled. 'But,' said one, 'we cannot keep this Abdullah for ever, and we can surely not kill him, for we should bring upon ourselves a grievous punishment.' 'Allah forbid that we should shed blood,' replied the Sheikh. 'But when Abdul Kerim's son is made Sheikh of the tribe, Abdullah will probably not wish to go back to his people. Moreover it shall be for Khaled to judge what shall be done to the man, and he will probably cut off his head. But in the meantime it is necessary to choose amongst us spies, two for each gate of the city, to the number of twenty-two men, to watch for Abdullah. For we do not know when he will come, and of the two spies who see him enter, both must follow him and see whither he goes, and then the one will immediately inform all the rest while the other waits for him. From the time he enters the city he will not be able to go anywhere without our knowledge, and we shall certainly catch him one day towards dusk in some narrow street of the city.' The beggars saw that this plan was wise and safe for themselves, and they did as the Sheikh advised, posting men at all the gates to wait for Abdullah. He was, indeed, not far distant, and before many days he rode into the city towards evening, attended by a few slaves and two Bedouins, his wife Almasta riding in the midst of them upon a camel. His face was not hidden and the two beggars who were watching recognised him immediately. They both followed him, until he entered his own house, and then the one sat down in the street to watch until he should come out, asking alms of those who accompanied him, until they also went in, with the beasts. But the other made haste to find the Sheikh and to inform him that Abdullah had come and was now in his own dwelling. 'It is well,' said the blind man. 'The cat is now asleep, and dreams of mice, but he shall wake in the midst of dogs. Abdullah will not leave his house to-night, for it is late, and though he is not afraid in the daytime, he will not go out much at night, lest a secret messenger from Khaled, bearing evil in his hand, should meet him by the way. But to-morrow before dawn, some of us will wait in the neighbourhood of his house, and two or three score of others feigning to be all blind, as I am, must always be near at hand, watching us. We will then begin to importune him for alms, flattering him with fine language, as though we knew his plans. And this we will do continually, when he is abroad, until one day to escape from us he will turn quickly into a narrow street, supposing that we cannot see him. For he will not wish to be pursued by our cries in the bazar lest he be obliged for shame to give something to each. Then those who can see will open their eyes and we will catch him in the lane, and bind rags over his head so that he cannot cry out, and lead him away to my dwelling by the Yemamah gate. And if any meet us by the way and inquire whom we are taking with us, we will say that he is one of ourselves, who is an epileptic and has fallen down in a fit, and that we are taking him to the farrier's by the gate, to be burned with red-hot irons for his recovery, as the physicians recommend in such cases. Surely we have now foreseen most things, but if we have forgotten anything, Allah will doubtless provide.' All the beggars in council approved this plan, for they saw that it could be easily carried out, if they could only catch Abdullah in a lonely street at the hour of prayer when few persons are passing. But Abdullah himself was ignorant of the evil in store for him, and feared nothing, having been secretly informed that most of the better sort of people were ready to support him if he would strike the blow; for they suspected Khaled of being a traitor, especially since he had last addressed the chief men and refused to tell the name of his father. Abdullah therefore came and went openly in the city. In the meantime, however, Khaled was informed of his presence and was warned of the danger. The aged Kadi came secretly by night to the palace and desired to be received by the Sultan in order to communicate to him news of great importance, as he said. Khaled immediately received him, and the Kadi proceeded to give a full account of Abdullah's designs; but the Sultan expressed no astonishment. 'Let him do what he will,' he answered, 'for I care little and, after all, what must be will be.' 'But I beseech you to consider,' said the Kadi, 'that by acting promptly you could easily quell this revolution, in which I, by Allah, have no part and will have none. For though many persons may just now desire your overthrow, because they expect to get a share of the treasure in the confusion, yet few are disposed to accept such a man as Abdullah ibn Mohammed el Herir in your place. Even his own tribe are not all faithful to him, and I am credibly informed that many look upon him as an intruder, and would prefer the son of Abdul Kerim for sheikh, as would be just, if the rights of birth were considered. And it would be an easy matter to remove this Abdullah. I implore you to think of the matter.' 'Would this not be a murder?' asked Khaled, looking curiously at the venerable preacher. 'Allah is merciful and forgiving,' replied the old man, looking down and stroking his beard. 'And moreover, if you suffer Abdullah to go about a few days longer he will certainly destroy you, whereas it is an easy matter to give him a cup of such good drink as will save him from thirst ever afterwards, and you would obtain quiet and the kingdom would be at peace.' 'They shall not find me sleeping,' said Khaled, 'and so that I may only slay a score of them first, I care not how soon I perish.' 'This is indeed a new kind of madness!' exclaimed the Kadi. 'I cannot understand it. But I have done what I could, and I can do nothing more.' 'Nor is there anything more to be done,' said Khaled. 'But I thank you, for it is clear that you have spoken from a good intention.' So the Kadi went away again, and Khaled returned to Zehowah, caring not at all whether he lived or died. But Zehowah began to watch him narrowly. 'If this man were a Persian, an enemy and a traitor,' she thought, 'he would now begin to take measures for his own safety, seeing that he is threatened on every side. Yet he does not lift a hand to defend himself. This can proceed only from one of two causes. Either he is a Jinn, as he has told me, and they cannot kill him, and so he does not fear them; or else he desires death, out of a sort of madness which has grown up in him through this love of which he is always speaking.' CHAPTER XI In these days many of the Bedouin tribes came near the city and encamped in great numbers within half a day's journey and less. Abdullah was exceedingly busy with his preparations, and spent much time in talking with other sheikhs, hardly making any concealment of his movements or plans. For by this time it seemed clear to him that the greater part of the people were with him, and every one spoke of the coming overthrow of Khaled as an open matter. Khaled himself, too, was reported to be in fear of his life, and he was no longer seen in the streets as formerly, nor in the courts of the palace, nor even every day in the hall, but remained shut up in the harem, and none saw him except the women and a few slaves. Men said aloud that he was in great fear and distress, and as this story gained credence, so Abdullah's importance increased, since it was he who had brought such terror upon Khaled. All this was open talk in the bazar, but Abdullah was himself somewhat suspicious, supposing that Khaled must have a plan in reserve for defending his possession of the throne. Abdullah, however, kept secret the manner in which he intended to enter the palace, though he promised his adherents to open to them the gates of the castle, and the doors of the treasure chambers on a certain day, which he named, at the time of the first call to prayer in the morning, warning all those who were with him to come together in the great square before that hour in order to be ready to help him, if necessary, and to overwhelm the guards of the palace if they should make any resistance. But he did not know that the man of his tribe who was kinsman to the chief of the beggars had overheard his talk with his wife. Meanwhile the beggars seemed to be multiplied exceedingly in Riad, for whenever Abdullah went out of his house they came upon him, sometimes by twos and threes and sometimes in scores, pressing close to him and begging alms. They also cried out a great deal, praising his generosity and praying for blessings upon him. 'Behold the sheikh of sheikhs!' they exclaimed. 'He bears gold in his right hand and silver in his left. Yallah! Send him a long life and prosperity, for he loves the poor and his name is the Alms-giver. He is not El Herir but Er Rahman and his heart over-flows with mercy as his purse does with small coins. Come, O brothers, and taste of his charity, which is a perpetual spring of good water beside a palm tree full of sugar-dates! Ya Abdullah, Servant of Allah, we love you! You are our father and mother. Your kefiyeh is the banner which goes before our pilgrimage. Come, O brothers, and taste of his charity.' Abdullah was not dissatisfied with these words, and the beggars said much more to the same effect, which he regarded as signs of his popularity, so that he opened his purse from time to time and threw handfuls of money into the crowd, not counting the cost since he expected to be master of all the treasure in Riad within a few days. But the beggars were disappointed, for they had hoped that he would turn out to be avaricious, and endeavour to elude them by walking through narrow and lonely streets, where they might catch him. So they pressed more and more upon him every day, trying to exhaust his patience and his charity. In this however they failed, not understanding that the vanity of such a man is inexhaustible and knows no price. Abdullah, too, chose rather to be abroad during the daytime than in the evening or the early morning, for he desired to be seen by the multitude and spoken of as he went through the market-place. Yet on the last evening of all he fell into the hands of the Sheikh of the beggars, and evil befell him. The hour of prayer was passed and it was almost the time when lights are extinguished. Then Abdullah took his sword under his aba, and also a good knife, which he had proved in battle, and which in his hand would pierce a coat of mail as though it were silk. Almasta, his wife, also made a bundle of woman's clothing and carried it in her arms. For they intended to go to a lonely place by the city wall, that Abdullah might there put on female garments, before entering the palace. He feared, indeed, lest if it were afterwards known by what disguise he had accomplished his purpose, he might receive some name in derision, from which he should never escape so long as he lived. Yet he had no choice but to dress as a woman, since he could not otherwise by any means have gone into the harem. As he came out of his house, accompanied only by Almasta he was seen at once by the two beggars who were always on the watch. And then, wishing to warn their companions, of whom many were lying asleep upon doorsteps in the same street and in others close by, these two made haste to get up, pretending to be lame and making a great clatter with their staves, as they limped after Abdullah. Then he, who loved to exercise charity in the market-place, but not in the dark where none could applaud him, made a pretence of not seeing the poor men, and went swiftly on with Almasta running by his side. But as he walked fast, the two beggars although apparently lame increased their speed with his, and their clatter also. 'Does a sound man need a horse to escape from cripples?' asked Abdullah. And he turned quickly into a narrow lane. 'It will be wiser to scatter a few coins to them,' said Almasta. 'They will then stop and search for them in the dark. For these men are very importunate and will certainly hinder us.' But Abdullah was confident in his legs as a strong man and only walked the faster, so that Almasta could with great difficulty keep beside him. Then they heard the beggars running after them in the dark and calling upon them. 'O Abdullah!' they cried. 'The light of your charitable countenance goes before us like a lantern, and illuminates the whole street! Be merciful and give us a small coin, and Allah will reward you!' Then Abdullah stopped in the darkest part of the narrow lane, seeing that they had recognised him, and conceiving that it would be a reproach for a sheikh of pure blood to run from beggars; and he feared also that it would be remembered against him on the morrow. He therefore made a pretence of being diverted, and laughed. 'Surely,' he said, 'the lame men of Riad could outrun in a race the sound men of any other city. And, by Allah, I have little money with me, for I was going to a friend's house to receive a sum due to me for certain mares; yet I will give you what I have, and I pray you, go in peace.' Thereupon he sought in his wallet for something to give them, and while he was seeking they began to praise him after their manner. 'See this Abdullah!' they said. 'He is the father of the poor and distressed, and is ever ready to divide all he has with us. Yallah! Bless him exceedingly! Yallah! Increase his family!' But when Abdullah had found the money and was putting it into their hands, he was suddenly aware that instead of two beggars there were now ten or more, and these again multiplied in an extraordinary manner, so that he felt himself hemmed in on every side in a close press. 'O Allah!' he exclaimed. 'Thou art witness that unless these small coins are multiplied a hundredfold, as the basket of dates by the Prophet at the trench before Medina, I shall have nothing to give these worthy persons.' By this time the blind Sheikh of the beggars was present, and he pushed forward, pretending to rebuke his companions. 'O you greedy ones!' he cried. 'How often have I told you not to be so importunate? Yet you crowd upon him like wasps upon a date, presuming upon the goodness of his heart, and when there is no more room you crowd upon each other. Forgive them, O Abdullah!' he said, addressing him directly, 'for they have the appetites of jackals together with the understanding of little children. They would thrust into the dish a hand as small as a crow's foot and withdraw it looking as big as a camel's hoof. Their manners are also----' 'My friend,' said Abdullah, 'I have given what I can. Let me therefore pass on, for my business is of importance, yet the throng is so great that I cannot move a step. To-morrow I will distribute much alms to you all.' 'The radiance of your merciful countenance is enough for us,' replied the Sheikh of the beggars, 'and even I who am blind am comforted by its rays as by those of the sun in spring, and my hunger is appeased by the honey of your incomparable eloquence----' 'My friend,' said Abdullah, interrupting him again, 'I pray you to let me go forward now, for I have a very important matter in hand, though it is with difficulty that I tear myself away from your society and I would willingly listen much longer to the words of the wise.' Then the blind man turned to the other beggars, and his hearing told him that by this time there were at least threescore in the street. 'Come, my brothers!' he cried. 'Let us accompany our benefactor to the house of his friend, and afterwards we will wait for him and see that he reaches his own dwelling in safety. Surely it is not fitting that a sheikh of such great consideration should go about the streets at night without so much as an attendant carrying a lantern. Let us go with him.' Now these last words were the signal agreed upon, and even as Abdullah began to protest that he desired no such honourable escort as the beggars offered him, one came from behind and suddenly drew a thick barley-sack over his head, so that his voice was heard no more, and he was dragged down by the throat, while the one-eyed hunchback caught him by the legs and bound his feet and four others laid hold of his hands and tied them firmly behind him. Nor had Almasta time to utter a single cry before she was bound hand and foot with her head in a sack, like her husband. Then at a signal the beggars took up the two as though they had been bales packed ready for a camel's back, and carried them away swiftly into the darkness, towards the eastern gate where the blind man lived in a ruined house together with three or four of his most trusted companions. He also sent a messenger to his relation, the Bedouin, as had been agreed. It was already quite dark in the streets and the few persons who met the beggars did not see what they were carrying, nor ask questions of them, merely supposing that they had lingered long in the public square after evening prayers and were now returning in a body to their own quarter. The blind man's house was built of three rooms and a wall, standing in a square around a small court. But only one of the rooms had a roof of its own, though there was a sort of cellar under the floor of one of the others which served at once as a lodging for beggars in winter, as a storehouse for food when there was any in supply and as a place of deposit for the ancient iron chest in which the common fund of money was kept. To this vault the Sheikh of the beggars made his companions bring the two prisoners, and having set them on the floor, side by side, he proceeded to hold a council, in which the captives themselves had no part, since their heads were tied up in dusty barley-sacks and they could not speak so as to be heard. 'O my brothers!' said the blind man. 'Allah has delivered the enemies of the kingdom into our hand, and it is necessary to decide what we will do with them. Let the oldest and the wisest give their opinions first, and after them the others, even to the youngest, and last of all I will speak, and let us see whether we can agree.' 'Let us kill the man and bury him, and then cast lots among us for the woman,' said one. 'No,' said the next, a man who had twice made the pilgrimage, and was much respected, 'we cannot do this, for the man is a true believer, and evil will befall us if we shed his blood. Let us rather keep him here, and purify his hide every day with our staves, until Khaled is in no more danger, and then we will take him to the palace and deliver him up.' 'It is to be feared,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, 'that the man might chance to die of this sort of purification, though indeed it be very wholesome for him, and I am not altogether against it.' 'Let us make him our slave,' said a third who had himself been the slave of a poor man who had died without heirs. 'The fellow is strong. Let us buy millstones and make him grind barley for us in this cellar. In this way he will not eat our food for nothing.' After this many others gave advice of the same kind. But while they were talking there was a great clattering and noise upon the stone steps which led down into the cellar, and a man fell over the last step and rolled over and over into the very midst of the council, railing and lamenting. 'It is that ass of Egypt,' said the Sheikh of the beggars. 'I know him by the clattering of the wooden hoofs he wears on his hands, and also by his braying. Let him also give his opinion when he is recovered from his fall.' 'It is strange and marvellous,' said one, 'that he who has no legs should suffer so many falls, being, by the will of Allah, always upon the earth. For when we first saw him we found him fainting upon the ground, having fallen from the wall of a garden, though no man could tell how he had climbed upon it.' 'I had been transported to the top of the wall as in a dream,' replied the cripple, 'for there were dates in that garden. But having eaten too greedily of them I fell asleep on the top and I dreamed that my body was torn by hyænas; and waking suddenly I fell down. For the dates were yet green.' 'This may or may not be true,' said the blind man. 'For you are an Egyptian. Let us, however, hear what you have to advise in the matter of Abdullah and his wife, whom we have taken prisoners.' 'I fear that you mock me, O my lord,' answered the man. 'But if I am mocked, I will advise that this Abdullah be also made a sport of, for us first, and for the people of Riad afterwards.' 'Tell us how this may be done, for a good jest is better than salt for roasting, and the sheep lie here bound before us.' 'Take this man, then,' said the cripple, 'and uncover his face, and hold him fast. Then let one of us get the razor and shave off all his beard and his eyebrows, and the hair of his head even to the nape of his neck. Then if he came suddenly before her who bore him and cried, "Mother," she would cover her face and answer, "Begone, thou ostrich's egg!" For she would not know him. And to-morrow we will take his excellent clothes from him and put them upon our Sheikh. But we will dress Abdullah in rags such as would not serve to wipe the mud from a slave's shoes in the time of the subsiding waters, and we will tie his hands under his arm-pits and put a halter over his head and lead him about the city. Then he will cry out against us to the people, saying that he is Abdullah, but we will also cry out in answer: "See this madman, who believes himself to be a sheikh of Bedouins though Allah has given him no beard! O people of Riad, you may know that the spring is come, by the braying of this ass."' 'Yet I see now that there may be wisdom in brayings,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, 'though Balaam ibn Beor shut his ears against it, and was punished for his cursing so that his tongue hung down to his breast, all his days, like that of a thirsty dog. This is good counsel, for in this way we shall not shed the man's blood, nor render ourselves guilty of his death; but I think we shall earn a great reward from Khaled, and his kingdom will be saved in laughter.' During all this time Abdullah had not moved, knowing that he was in the power of many enemies and beyond all reach of help, but when he heard the decision of the Sheikh of the beggars he was filled with shame and rolled himself from side to side upon the floor, as though trying to escape from the bonds that held him. Almasta, for her part, lay quietly where they had put her, for she saw that all chance of success was gone and was pondering how she might take advantage of what happened, to save herself. Then the beggars laid hold of Abdullah and held him, while others took the sack from his head. He was indeed half smothered with dust, so that at first he could not speak aloud, but coughed and sneezed like a dog that has thrust its nose into a dust-heap to find the bone which is hidden underneath. But presently he recovered his breath and began to rail at them and curse them. To this they paid no attention, but brought the oil lamp near him, and one began to rub soap upon his face and head while another got the razor with which the beggars shaved their heads and began to whet it upon his leathern girdle. 'Do not waste the precious stones of your eloquence upon a barber,' said the Sheikh of the beggars, 'but reserve your breath and the rich treasures of your speech until you are brought as a plucked bird before the people of Riad. Moreover we only wish to shave off your beard, but if you are restless some of your hide will certainly be removed also, whereby you will be hurt and it will be still harder for your friends to recognise you to-morrow. It is also useless to shout and scream as though you were driving camels, for you are in the cellar of my house which is at a good distance from other habitations, on the borders of the city.' So Abdullah saw that there was no escape, and that his fate was about his neck, and he sat still as they had placed him, while the one-eyed hunchback shaved off his beard and the hair on his upper lip and his eyebrows, and the lock at the back of his head. When this was done the blind man put out his hand and felt Abdullah's face. 'Surely,' he said, 'this is not a man's head, but the round end of a walking-staff, rubbed smooth by much use.' They also tied his hands under his arm-pits and put upon him a ragged shirt with sleeves so that he seemed to have lost both arms at the elbow. 'This is very well done,' said the hunchback turning his head from side to side in order to see all with his one eye. 'But what shall we do with the woman? Let us cast lots for her, and he who wins her shall marry her, and we will hold the feast immediately, for we have not yet supped and there is some of the camel's meat which we received to-day at the palace.' 'O my brothers,' answered the Sheikh of the beggars, 'let us do nothing unlawful in our haste. For this woman is certainly one of Abdullah's wives, as you may see by her clothes, and unless he divorces her none of us can take her for ourselves, seeing that she is the wife of a believer. Take the sack from her head, however, and if she deafens us with her screaming we can put it on again. But you must by no means put her to shame by taking the veil from her face, for she may be an honest wife, though her husband be a dog. If she has done well, we shall find it out, and no harm will have come to her; but if she is a sharer in this fellow's plans, her punishment will be grievous, since she will be the wife of an outcast, having neither beard nor eyebrows and rejected by all men.' Some of the beggars murmured at this, but most of them praised their Sheikh's wisdom, and would indeed have feared greatly to break the holy law, being chiefly devout men who prayed daily in the mosque and listened to the Khotbah on Friday. They therefore placed Almasta in one corner of the cellar and Abdullah in another, so that the two could not converse together, and then they took out such food as they had and began to eat their supper, laughing and talking over the jest and anticipating the reward which awaited them for saving Khaled. In the meanwhile the night was advancing and many of Abdullah's friends left their houses secretly and gathered in the neighbourhood of the palace to wait for the first signal from within. By threes and by twos and singly they came out of their dwellings, looking to the right and left to see whether they were not the first, as men do who are not sure of being in the right. All had their swords with them, and some their bows also, and some few carried their spears, and they made no secret of their bearing weapons; but under each man's aba was concealed the largest barley-sack he could find in his house, and concerning this no one of the multitude said anything to his neighbour, for each hoped to get a greater share than the others of the gold and precious stones from the fabulous treasure stored in the palace. Then most of these men sat down to wait, as vultures do before the camel is quite dead. But not long after the middle of the night they were joined by a great throng of Bedouins from Abdullah's tribe. These had been admitted into the city by the watchman according to the agreement, and passed up the great street from the Hasa gate, in a close body, not speaking and making but little noise with their feet as they walked; yet all of them together could be heard from a distance, because they were so many, and the sound was like the night wind among the branches of dry palm trees. After them, other Bedouins came in from camps both near and far, some of them having made half a day's journey since sunset; and they surrounded the palace on all sides, and filled the great street, and the street which passes by the mosque towards the Dereyiyah gate and all the other approaches to the open square, sitting down wherever there was room, or leaning against the closed shops of the bazar, or standing up in a thick crowd when they were too closely pressed to be at ease. They talked together from time to time in low tones, but when their voices rose above a whisper some man in authority hushed them saying that the hour was not yet come. 'By this time Abdullah has slain Khaled,' said some, 'and the daughter of the old Sultan is a prisoner.' 'And by this time,' said others, 'Abdullah is surely unlocking the treasure chamber and filling a barley-sack with pearls and rubies. It is certain that he who slays the lion deserves his bride, but we hope that something will be left for us.' 'Hush!' said the voice of one moving in the darkness. 'Be patient. It is not yet time.' Then, for a space, a deep silence fell on the speakers and they crouched in their places watching the high black walls of the palace and marking the motion of the stars by the highest point of the tower. Before long whispered words were heard again. 'It would have been more just if Abdullah had opened the gate to us as soon as he had slain Khaled, for then we could have seen what he took. But now, who shall tell us what share of the riches he is hiding away in the more secret vaults?' 'This is true,' answered others. 'And besides, what need have we of Abdullah to help us into the palace? Surely we could have broken down the gates and slain the guards and Khaled himself without Abdullah's help. Yet we, for our part, would not shed the blood of a man who has always dealt very generously with us, nor do we believe the story of the camels laden secretly in Haïl. However, what is ordained will take place, and we shall undoubtedly receive plentiful gold merely for sitting here to watch the stars through the night.' 'The story of the camels is not true,' said a certain man, speaking alone. 'For I was of the drivers sent with them, and being hungry, we opened one of the bales on the way. By Allah! There was nothing but wheat in it, and it was white and good; but there was nothing else, not so much as a few small coins----' Then there was the sound of a blow, and the man who was speaking was struck on the mouth, so that his speech was interrupted. 'Peace and be silent!' said a voice. 'They who speak lies will receive no share with the rest when the time comes.' But the man who had been struck was the strongest of all his tribe, though he who had struck him did not know it. And the man caught his assailant by the waist in the dark, and wrestled with him violently, being very angry, and broke his forearm and his collar-bone and several of his ribs, and when he had done with him, he threw him over his shoulder so that he fell fainting and moaning three paces away. 'O you who strike honest men on the mouth in the dark, you have been over-rash!' he cried. 'Go home and hide yourself lest I recognise you and break such bones as you have still whole!' 'This is well done,' said one of the bystanders in a loud voice. 'For the story of the camels laden secretly with treasure is a lie. I also was with the drivers and ate of the wheat. Nor do I believe that Khaled is a robber and a Persian.' 'We do not believe it!' cried a score of Bedouins together. 'And if we have come here, it is to get our share like other men, since they tell us that Khaled is dead. But now we believe that Abdullah has shut himself into the palace and means to keep all for himself, and is cheating us.' These men were none of them of Abdullah's tribe, but as the voices grew louder, Abdullah's kinsmen came up, and endeavoured to quiet the growing tumult. The crowd had parted a little and the strong man stood alone in the midst. 'We pray you to be patient,' said Abdullah's men, 'for the time is at hand and the false dawn has already passed, though you have not seen it, so that before long it will be day. Then the gates will be opened and you shall all go in.' 'We have no need of your sheikh to open gates for us,' said the strong man, in a voice that could be heard very far through the crowd. 'And moreover it will be better for you not to strike any more of us, or, by Allah, we will not only break your bones but shed your blood.' At this there was a sullen cry and men sprang to their feet and laid their hands upon their weapons. But a youth who had come up with Abdullah's kinsmen, though not one of them, bent very low over the man who had been thrown down and then spoke out with a loud and laughing voice. 'Truly they say that crows lead people to the carcases of dogs!' he said. 'This fellow is of the family which murdered my father, upon whom may Allah send peace! Nor will I exceed the bounds of moderation and justice.' Thereupon the young man drew out his knife and immediately killed his father's enemy as he lay upon the ground, and then he withdrew quickly into the dark crowd so that none knew him. But though there was only the light of the stars and the multitude was great, many had seen the deed and each man stood closer by his neighbour and grasped his weapon to be in readiness. The kinsmen of Abdullah saw that they were separated from their own tribe and drew back, warning the others to keep the peace and be silent, lest they should be cut off from their share of the spoil. But their voices trembled with fears for their own safety, and they were answered by scornful shouts and jeers. 'The young man says well that you are crows,' cried the angry men, 'for you wish to keep the carcase for yourselves. Come and take it if you are able!' Now indeed the quarrel which had been begun by the blow struck in the dark spread suddenly to great dimensions, for the words spoken were caught up as grains of sand by the wind and blown into all men's ears. Many were ready enough to believe that Abdullah cared only for enriching himself and his tribe, and many more who had been persuaded to the enterprise by the hope of gain turned again to their faith in Khaled as the dream of gold disappeared from their eyes. Yet Abdullah's tribe was numerous, and it was easy to see that if the dissension grew into a strife of arms the fight would be long and fierce on both sides. Then certain of those who were against Abdullah raised the cry that he had slain Khaled and escaped with the treasure by a secret passage leading under the walls of the city, which passage was spoken of in old tales, though no one knew where to find it. But the multitude believed and pressed forward in a strong body and began to beat against the iron-bound gate of the palace with great stones and pieces of wood. Abdullah's men came on fiercely to prevent them, but were opposed by many, and as the wing of night was lifted and the dawn drank the stars, the wide square was filled with the clashing of arms and the noise of a terrible tumult. CHAPTER XII At the time when the beggars were carrying away Abdullah and his wife, Khaled was sitting in his accustomed place, silent and heavy at heart, and Zehowah played softly to him upon a barbat and sang a sad song in a low voice. For she saw that gloominess had overcome him and she feared to disturb his mood, though she would gladly have made him smile if she had been able. A black slave of Khaled's whom he had treated with great kindness had secretly told him that there was a plan to enter the palace with evil during that night, for the fellow had spied upon those who knew and had overheard what he now told his master. He had also asked whether he should not warn the guards of the palace, in order that a strict watch should be kept, but Khaled had bidden him be silent. 'Either the guards are conspiring with the rest,' said Khaled, 'and will be the first to attack me, or they are ignorant of the plan; and if so how can they withstand so great a multitude? I will abide by my own fate, and no man shall lose his life for my sake unless he desires to do so.' But he privately put on a coat of mail under his aba, and when he sat down in the harem to await the end he would not let Zehowah take his sword, but laid it upon his feet and sat upright against the wall, looking towards the door. 'Since I have no soul,' he said to himself, 'this is probably the end of all things. But there is no reason why I should not kill as many of these murderers as possible.' He was gloomy and desponding, however, since he saw that his hour was at hand, and that Zehowah was no nearer to loving him than before. He watched her fingers as she played upon the instrument, and he listened to the soft notes of her voice. 'It is a strange thing,' he thought, 'and I believe that she is not able to love, any more than my sword upon my feet, which is good and true and beautiful, and ever ready to my hand, but is itself cold, having no feeling in it.' Still Zehowah sang and Khaled heard her song, listening watchfully for a man's tread upon the threshold and looking to see a man's face and the light of steel in the shadow beyond the lamps. 'The night is long,' he said at last, aloud. 'It is not yet midnight,' Zehowah answered. 'But you are tired. Will you not go to rest?' 'I shall rest to-morrow,' said Khaled. 'To-night I will sit here and look at you, if you will sing to me.' Zehowah gazed into his eyes, wondering a little at his exceeding sadness. Then she bowed her head and struck the strings of the instrument to a new measure more melancholy than the last, and sang an old song of many verses, with a weeping refrain. 'Are you also heavy at heart to-night?' Khaled asked, when he had listened to the end. 'It is not easy to kindle a lamp when the rain is falling heavily,' Zehowah said. 'Your sadness has taken hold of me, like the chill of a fever. I cannot laugh to-night.' 'And yet you have a good cause, for they say that to-night the earth is to be delivered of a great malefactor, a certain Persian, whose name is perhaps Hassan, a notorious robber.' Khaled turned away his head, smiling bitterly, for he desired not to see the satisfaction which would come into her face. 'This is a poor jest,' she answered in a low voice, and the barbat rolled from her knees to the carpet beside her. 'I mean no jesting, for I do not desire to disappoint you, since you will naturally be glad to be freed from me. But I am glad if you are willing to sing to me, for this night is very long.' 'Do you think that I believe this of you?' asked Zehowah, after some time. 'You believed it yesterday, you believe it to-day, and you will believe it to-morrow when you are free to make choice of some other man--whom you will doubtless love.' 'Yet I know that it is not true,' she said suddenly. 'It is too late,' Khaled answered. 'The more I love you, the more I see how little faith you have in me--and the less faith can I put in you. Will you sing to me again?' 'This is very cruel and bitter.' Zehowah sighed and looked at him. 'Will you sing to me again, Zehowah?' he repeated. 'I like your sad music.' Then she took up the barbat from the carpet, but though she struck a chord she could not go on and her hand lay idle upon the strings, and her voice was still. 'You are perhaps tired,' said Khaled after some time. 'Then lay aside the instrument and sleep.' He composed himself in his seat, his sword being ready and his eyes towards the door. But Zehowah shook her head as though awaking from a dream, her fingers ran swiftly over the strings and gentle tones came from her lips. Khaled listened thoughtfully to the song and the words soothed him, but before she had reached the end, she stopped suddenly. 'Why do you not finish it?' he asked. 'If you have told me truth,' she answered, 'this is no time for singing and music. But if not, why should I labour to amuse you, as though I were a slave? I will call one of the women who has a sweet voice and a good memory. She will sing you a kasid which will last till morning.' 'You are wrong,' said Khaled. 'There is no reason in what you say.' But he reflected upon her nature, while he spoke. 'Surely,' he thought, 'there is nothing in the world so contradictory as a woman. I ask of her a song and she is silent. I bid her rest, supposing her to be weary, and she sings to me. If I tell her that I hate her she will perhaps answer that she loves me. Min Allah! Let us see.' 'You inspire hatred in me,' he said aloud, after a few moments. At this Zehowah was very much astonished, and she again let the barbat fall from her knees. 'You wished me to believe that you loved me, and this not long since,' she answered. 'It may be so. I did not know you then.' He looked towards the door as though he would say nothing further. Zehowah sighed, not understanding him yet being wounded in that sensitive tissue of the heart which divides the outer desert of pride from the inner garden of love, belonging to neither but separating the two as a veil. And when there is a rent in that veil, pride looks on love and scoffs bitterly, and love looks on pride and weeps tears of fire. 'I am sorry that you hate me,' she said, but the words were bitter in her mouth as a draught from a spring into which the enemy have cast wormwood, that none may drink of it. 'Allah is great!' thought Khaled. 'This is already an advantage.' Then Zehowah took up the barbat and began to sing a careless song not like any which Khaled had ever heard. This is the song-- 'The fisherman of Oman tied the halter under his arms, The sky was as blue as the sea in winter. The fisherman dived into the deep waters As a ray of light shoots through a sapphire of price. The sea was as blue as the sky, for it was winter. Among the rocks below the water it was dark and cold Though the sky above was as blue as a fine sapphire. The fisherman saw a rough shell lying there in the dark between two crabs, "In that shell there must be a large pearl," he said. But when he would have taken it the crabs ran together and fastened upon his hand. His heart was bursting in his ribs for lack of breath And he thought of the sky above, as blue as the sea in winter. So he pulled the halter and was taken half-fainting into the boat. The crabs held his hand but he struck them off, And his heart beat merrily as he breathed the wind Blowing over the sea as blue as the sky in winter. "There are no pearls in this ocean," he said to his companions, "But there are crabs if any one cares to dive." One of them saw the shell caught between the legs of the crabs, He opened it and found a pearl of the value of a kingdom. "The pearl is mine, but you may eat the crabs," he said to the fisherman, "Since you say there are no pearls in this ocean, Which is as blue as the sky in winter." Then the fisherman smote him and tried to take the pearl, But as they strove it fell into the deep water and sank, Where the sea was as blue as the sky in winter. "I will drown you with a heavy weight," said the fisherman, "for you have robbed me of my fortune." "I have not robbed you, O brother, for the pearl is again where you found it, In the sea which is as blue as the sky in winter." Then the fisherman dived again many times in vain Till the drums of his ears were broken and his heart was dissolved for lack of breath. But the pearl is still there, at the bottom of the sea, And the sea is as blue as the sky in winter. This is the kasid of the fisherman of Oman Which Zehowah Bint ul Mahomed el Hamid Has made and sung for her lord, Khaled the Sultan. May Allah send him long life and many such hearts As the one which fell into the ocean When the sky was as blue as the sea in winter.' 'This is a new song,' said Khaled, when she had finished. 'Is it? I made it many months ago,' Zehowah answered. 'Does it please you?' 'It is not very melodious, nor do I think there is much truth in the matter of it. But I thank you, for it has served to pass the time.' Zehowah laughed a little scornfully. 'I daresay you would prefer the song of a Persian nightingale,' she said. 'Nevertheless my song is full of truth, though you cannot see it. There are many who seek for things of great value and do not know when they have found them because a crab has bitten their hands.' 'Verily,' thought Khaled, 'this is indeed the spirit of contradiction.' But he was silent for a time, not wishing that she should think him easily moved. In the meantime Zehowah played softly upon the little instrument and Khaled watched her, wondering whether she were not playing upon the strings of his heart, for her own pleasure, as skilfully as her fingers ran upon the chords of the barbat. Many words rose to his lips then, and he wished that he also had the science of music that he might sing sweetly to her. Then he laughed aloud at his own imagination, which was indeed that of a foolish youth. 'The lion roaring for a sweetmeat,' he thought, 'and the sword-hand aching to scratch little tunes upon a lute!' Zehowah turned suddenly when he laughed, and ceased from playing. 'I am glad that you are merry,' she said. 'I like laughter better than reproaches and prefer it to gloomy forebodings of evil when none is at hand.' Khaled's face grew dark, and he looked again towards the door. 'If you will stay with me, you shall see that evil is not far off,' he answered, for she had reminded him of what he was expecting, and he knew that it was no jesting matter. 'But you shall please yourself in this as in all other matters, though it were better for you to go now and shut yourself up in an inner room and wait for the end. The night is advancing, and all will soon be over.' 'Hear me, Khaled,' said Zehowah, speaking earnestly. 'If you bid me go, I will go, or if you desire me to stay, I will remain with you. But if you are indeed in danger, as you say, let us call up the guards and the watchmen who sleep in the palace, that they may stand by you with their swords and help you to fight if there is to be strife.' 'I will have no treacherous fellows about me,' Khaled answered, 'and there are none here whom I can trust. My hour is coming and I will fight this fight alone. But if you were such as I once hoped, I would say: "Remain with me, so long as you are safe." Now, since Allah has willed it thus, I say to you: "Go and seek safety where you can find it." Go, therefore, Zehowah, and leave me alone, for I need no one beside me, and you least of all.' He turned away his head, lest she should see his face, and with his hand made a gesture bidding her to leave him. She rose from her seat softly and hung the barbat upon the wall with the other musical instruments, looking over her shoulder to see whether he would call her back. But he neither moved nor spoke, being resolved to venture all upon this trial, for he knew that if she loved him even but a little, she would not leave him alone in the extremity of danger. Then she went towards the door of the room, turning her head to look at him as she passed near him. 'Farewell,' she said. But he did not answer nor show that he heard her voice. As she lifted the curtain to go out, she lingered and gazed at him. He sat motionless upon the carpet, upright against the wall, his sword lying across his feet, his hands hidden under his sleeves, looking towards her indeed but not seeming to see her. 'There can be no real danger,' she thought. 'Could any man sit thus, expecting death, and refusing to let any one stand by him to fight with him? Surely, he is playing with me, and setting a trap for me. But he shall not catch me.' She turned to go and the curtain was falling behind her when the night wind from the open passage brought a sound to her ears from a far distance. She started and listened, as camels do when they hear the first moving of the hot wind. There were no voices in the noise, which was low and dull, like the breathing of a great multitude and the soft moving of feet, and altogether it was as the slow rising and falling back of the sea upon the shores of Oman, when the great summer storm is coming from the south-west. Zehowah stood still a moment and drank in every murmur that reached her from without. Then her face grew white and her lips trembled when she thought of Khaled sitting alone on the other side of the curtain, with his sword upon his feet, waiting for the end. She lifted the hanging a little and looked at him again. He saw her, but made no sign. Even as she looked, the distant murmur grew louder and she fancied that he moved his head as though he heard it. Then she entered the room and came and stood before him. 'There is a great multitude in the square before the palace,' she said. 'I know it,' he answered, calmly looking up to her face. 'It needed not that you should tell me.' 'Will you not let me stay with you now?' asked Zehowah. 'Why should you stay here?' he asked with a pretence of indifference. 'Of what use are you to me? Take this sword. Can you strike with it? Your wrist is feeble. Or take a bow from the weapons on the wall. Can you draw the string? Your strength is sufficient for the lute, and your skill for scratching the strings of the barbat. Go and save yourself. I am alone and every man's hand is against me.' Zehowah stood still in the room and hesitated, looking into his eyes for something which she all at once desired with a hot thirst. At last she spoke in an uncertain voice. 'Yet you said not long since that if I were such as you once hoped, you would bid me remain.' 'I do not care,' he answered. 'Yet for your own sake, I advise you to go away.' 'For my own sake!' she repeated, trying to speak scornfully, and turning to go a second time. But she did not reach the door. She stood still before the weapons which hung upon the wall, and paused a moment and then took a sword from its place. Khaled watched her. She grasped the hilt as well as she could and swung the weapon in the air once with all her might. Then she uttered a little cry of pain, for she had twisted her wrist. The sword fell to the floor. 'He is right,' she said in a low tone, speaking aloud to herself. 'I am weak and can be of no use to him.' She went on once more towards the door, slowly, her head bent down, then stopped and then looked back again. She feared that she might see a smile on his face, but his eyes were grave and calm. Then he saw her turn and lean against the wall as though she were suddenly weak. She hid her face, and there was silence for a moment, and after that a low sound of weeping filled the still room. 'Why do you shed tears?' Khaled asked presently. 'There is no danger for you, I think. If you will go and shut yourself in the inner rooms you will be safe.' She turned fiercely and their eyes met. 'What do I care for myself?' she cried. 'Among so many deaths there is surely one for me!' Even as she spoke Khaled felt a cool breath upon his forehead, stirring the stillness. He knew that it came from the beating of an angel's wings. All his body trembled, his head fell forward a little and his eyes closed. 'This is death,' he thought, 'and my fate has come. A little longer, and she would have loved me.' But he did not speak aloud. Again Zehowah's face was turned towards the wall, and still the sound of her weeping filled the air, not subsiding and dying away, but rather increasing with every moment. 'Life is not yet gone,' said Khaled in his heart. 'There is yet hope.' For he no longer felt the cold breath on his forehead, and the trembling had ceased for a moment. He tried to speak aloud, but his lips could not form words nor his throat utter sounds, and he was amazed at his weakness. A great despair came upon him and his eyes were darkened so that he could not see the lights. 'If only I could speak to her now, she might love me yet!' he thought. The distant murmur from without was louder now and reached the room, and he heard it. He tried with all his might to raise his hand, to lift his head, to speak a single word. 'It may be that this is the nature of death,' he thought again, 'and I am already dead.' The noise from the multitude came louder and louder. Zehowah heard it and her breath was caught in her throat. She looked up and saw that the high window of the chamber was no longer quite dark. The day was dawning. Then pressing her bosom with her hands she looked again at Khaled. His head was bent upon his breast and he was so still that she thought he had fallen asleep. A cry broke from her lips. 'He cares not!' she exclaimed. 'What is it to him, whether I go, or stay?' Again Khaled felt the cool breeze in the room, fanning his forehead, and once more his limbs trembled. Then he felt that his strength was returning and that he could move. He raised his head and looked at Zehowah, and just then there was a distant crashing roar, as the Bedouins began to strike upon the gates. 'It is time,' he said, and taking his sword in his hand he rose from his seat. Zehowah came towards him with outstretched hands, wet cheeks and burning eyes. She stood before him as though to bar the way, and hinder him from going out. 'What is it to you, whether I go, or stay?' he asked, repeating her own words. 'What is it? By Allah, it is all my life--I will not let you go!' And she took hold of his wrists with her weak woman's hands, and tried to thrust him back. 'Go, Zehowah,' he answered, gently pressing her from him. 'Go now, and let me meet them alone, knowing that you are safe. For though this be pity which you feel, I know it is nothing more.' He would have passed by her, but still she held him and kept before him. 'You shall not go!' she cried. 'I will prevent you with my body. Pity, you say? Oh, Khaled! Is pity fierce? Is pity strong? Does pity burn like fire? You shall not go, I say!' Then her hands grew cold upon his wrists, her cheeks burned and in her eyes there was a deep and gleaming light. All this Khaled felt and saw, while he heard the raging of the multitude without. His sight grew again uncertain. A third time the cool breath blew in his face. 'Yet it cannot be love,' he said uncertainly. Yet she heard him. 'Not love? Khaled, Khaled--my life, my breath, my soul--breath of my life, life of my spirit--oh, Khaled, you have never loved as I love you now!' Her hands let go his wrists and clasped about his neck, and her face was hidden upon his shoulder while her breath came and went like the gusts of the burning storm in summer. But as he held her, Khaled looked up and saw that the Angel of Allah was before him, having a smiling countenance and bearing in his hand a bright flame like the crescent moon. 'It is well done, O Khaled,' said the Angel, 'and this is thy reward. Allah sends thee this to be thy own and to live after thy body, saying that thou hast well earned it, for love such as thou hast got now is a rare thing, not common with women and least of all with wives of kings. And now Allah alone knows what thy fate is to be, but thou shalt be judged at the end like other men, according to thy deeds, be they good or evil. And so receive thy soul and do with it as thou wilt.' The Angel then held out the flame which was like the crescent moon and it immediately took shape and became the brighter image of Khaled himself, endowed with immortality, and the knowledge of its own good and evil. And when Khaled had looked at it fixedly for a moment, being overcome with joy, the vision of himself disappeared, and he was aware that it had entered his own body and taken up its life within him. 'Return thanks to Allah, and go thy way to the end,' said the Angel, who then unfolded his wings and departed to paradise whence he had come. But Khaled clasped Zehowah tightly in his arms, and looking upwards repeated the first chapter of the Koran and also the one hundred and tenth chapter, which is entitled, Assistance. When he had performed these inward devotions he turned his gaze upon Zehowah and kissed her. 'Praise be to Allah,' he said, 'for this and all blessings. But now let us defend ourselves if we can, my beloved, for I think my enemies are at hand.' And so he would have stooped to take up his sword which had fallen upon the floor. But still Zehowah held him and would not let him go. 'Not yet, Khaled!' she cried. 'Not yet, soul of my soul! The gates are very strong, and will withstand this battering for some time.' 'Would you have him whom you love sit still in the net until the hunters come to catch him?' he asked in a tender voice. 'You said you would wait here,' she pleaded. 'If we must die, let us die here--our life will be a little longer so.' 'Did I say so? I thought you did not love me then, and I would have slain a few only, for my own sake, that my blood might not be unavenged. But now I will slay them all, for your sake, and the bodies of the dead shall be a rampart for you.' 'Oh, do not go!' she cried again. 'I know a secret passage from the palace, that leads out by the wall of the city--come quickly, there is yet time, and we shall escape--for Allah will protect us. Surely, when I was fainting in your arms I heard an angel's voice--and surely the angel is yet with us, and will lighten the way as we go.' 'The Angel was indeed here, for he brought me the soul that was promised, if you loved me. And now all is changed, for if we live, we get the victory and if we die we shall inherit paradise.' And Zehowah looked into his eyes and saw the living soul flaming within, and she believed him. 'If you had always been as you are now, I should have always loved you,' she said softly, and stooping down she took up his sword and drew it out and put it into his hand. 'I tried to wield one when you were not looking,' she said, 'but it hurt my wrist. Come, Khaled--let us go together.' Then he kissed her once more, and she kissed him, and putting one arm about her, he led her swiftly out by the passage towards the great gate. It was now broad dawn and the light was coming in by the narrow windows. Zehowah clung to Khaled closely, for the noise of the thundering blows was terrible and deafening, and the multitude without were shouting to each other and calling upon Abdullah to come out, for they supposed him to be in the palace. But the guards and soldiers within had all hidden themselves though they were awake, for there was no one to command them nor to lead them, and they dared not open the gate lest they themselves should be slain in the first rush of the crowd. Then Khaled and Zehowah paused for a moment near the gate. 'It is better that you should go back, my beloved,' said Khaled. 'Hear what a multitude of angry men are waiting outside.' 'I will not leave you--neither in life nor in death,' she answered. 'Let it be so, then,' said Khaled, 'and I will do my best. For a hundred men could not stop the way before me now, and I think that of five hundred I could slay many.' So he went up to the gate, and Zehowah stood a little behind him so as to be free of the first sweep of his sword. 'Abdullah!' cried some of the crowd without, while battering at the iron-bound doors. 'Abdullah, thou son of Mohammed and father of lies, come out to us, or we will go to thee!' 'Abdullah, thou thief, thou Persian, thou cheat, come out, and may boiling water be thy portion!' 'Stand back from the gate, and I will open it to you!' cried Khaled in a voice that might have been heard across the Red Desert as far as the shores of the great ocean. 'I, Khaled, will open,' he cried again. Then there was a great silence and the people fell back a little. Khaled drew the bolts and unfastened the locks, and opened the gates inward and stood forth alone in the morning light, his sword in his hand and his soul burning in his eyes. 'Khaled!' cried the first who saw him, and the cry was taken up. The shout was great, and full of joy and shook the earth. For the multitude had grown hot in anger against Abdullah, while they battered at the gates, supposing that he had slain Khaled. But he himself could not at first distinguish whether they were angry or glad. 'If any man wishes to take my life,' he cried, 'let him come and take it.' And the sword they all knew in battle, began to make a storm of lightning about his head in the morning sun. Then the strong man who had wrestled and thrown the other before dawn, stood out alone and spoke in a loud voice. 'We will have no Sultan but Khaled!' he cried. 'Give us Abdullah that we may make trappings for our camels from his skin.' Then Khaled sheathed his sword and came forward from under the gate, and Zehowah stood veiled beside him. 'Where is this Abdullah?' he asked. 'Find him if you can, for I would like to speak with him.' Then there was silence for a space. But by this time Abdullah's men had fled, for they had already been forced back in the crowding, and so soon as they saw Khaled standing unhurt under the palace gate, they turned quickly and ran for their lives to escape from the city, seeing that all was lost. 'Where is Abdullah?' Khaled asked again. And a voice from afar off answered, as though heralding the coming of a great personage. 'Behold Abdullah, the Sultan of Nejed!' it cried. Then the multitude turned angrily, grasping swords and spears and breathing curses. But the murmur broke suddenly into a shout of laughter louder even than the cry for Khaled had been. For a great procession had entered the square and the people made way for it as it advanced towards the palace. First came a score of lepers, singing in hideous voices and dancing in the early sun, filthy and loathsome to behold. And then came all manner of cripples, laughing and chattering, with coloured rags fastened to their staves, an army of distorted apes. Then, walking alone and feeling his way with his staff came the Sheikh of the beggars. And in one hand he held the end of a halter, which was fastened about Abdullah's head and neck and between his teeth, so that he could not cry out. And the blind man chanted a kasid which he had composed in the night in honour of Abdullah ibn Mohammed el Herir, the victorious Sultan of Nejed. 'Upon whom may Allah send much boiling water,' sang the Sheikh of the beggars after each stave. And Abdullah, his head and face shaven as bald as an ostrich's egg, was bent by the weight he carried, for upon his shoulders rode the cripple whom they called the Ass of Egypt, clapping the wooden shoes he used on his hands, like cymbals to accompany the song of the blind man. And last of all came a veiled woman, walking sadly, for she could not escape, being surrounded and driven on by many scores of beggars, all dancing and shouting and crying out mock praises of the Sultan Abdullah and his wife. But as the procession moved on the laughter increased a hundredfold, until all men's eyes were blind with mirth, and their breasts were bursting and aching with so much merriment. At last the Sheikh of the beggars stood before Khaled holding the halter. And here he made a deep obeisance, pulling the halter so that Abdullah nearly fell to the ground. 'In the name of the beggars,' he said, 'I present to your high majesty the Sultan of Nejed, Abdullah ibn Mohammed, and his chief minister the Ass of Egypt, and moreover the sultan's wife. May it please your high majesty to reward the beggars with a few small coins and a little barley, for having brought his high majesty, the new sultan, safely to the gate of the palace and to the steps of the throne.' Thereupon all the beggars, the lepers, the cripples, the blind men and those of weak understanding fell down together at Khaled's feet. * * * * * This is the story of Khaled the believing genius, which he caused to be written down in letters of gold by the most accomplished scribe in Nejed, that all men might remember it. But of what afterwards occurred there is nothing told in the scribe's manuscript. It is recounted, however, in the commentaries of one Abd ul Latif that Khaled did not cause Abdullah to be beheaded, nor in any way hurt, save that he was driven out of the city with his wife, where certain Bedouins affirmed that he lived for many years with her in great destitution. But it is well known that after this Zehowah bore Khaled many strong sons, whose children and children's children reigned gloriously for many generations in Nejed. And Khaled and Zehowah died full of years on the same day, and lie buried together in a garden without the Hasa gate, and the pilgrims from Ajman and the east visit their tombs even to the present time. _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_. MESSRS. MACMILLAN AND CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. POPULAR NOVELS BY MR. MARION CRAWFORD. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. each. MR. ISAACS: A Tale of Modern India. _DAILY NEWS_--"The best novel that has ever laid its scene in our Indian dominions." _ATHEN�UM_--"A work of unusual ability." DR. CLAUDIUS. A True Story. _ATHEN�UM_--"Mr. Crawford has achieved another success." A ROMAN SINGER. _TIMES_--"A masterpiece of narrative.... In Mr. Crawford's skilful hands it is unlike any other romance in English literature." ZOROASTER. _GUARDIAN_--"An instance of the highest and noblest form of novel.... Alike in the originality of its conception and the power with which it is wrought out, it stands on a level that is almost entirely its own." MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX. A TALE OF A LONELY PARISH. _GUARDIAN_--"The tale is written with all Mr. Crawford's skill." _SATURDAY REVIEW_--"Unlike most novels, goes on improving up to the end." PAUL PATOFF. _ATHEN�UM_--"The originality of the story, the charm of the description, and the brilliancy of the narrative are undeniable." WITH THE IMMORTALS. _SPECTATOR_--"To do justice to Mr. Crawford's remarkable book by extracts would be impossible.... It cannot fail to please a reader who enjoys crisp, clear, vigorous writing, and thoughts that are alike original and suggestive." GREIFENSTEIN. _SATURDAY REVIEW_--"With the exception of 'Saracinesca,' his most consistent work, Mr. Crawford has not written anything so good as his last novel 'Greifenstein.'" _ACADEMY_--"During the whole of his literary career Mr. Marion Crawford has produced nothing quite so powerful as one or two of the situations in 'Greifenstein.'" SANT' ILARIO. _ATHEN�UM_--"The plot is skilfully concocted, and the interest is sustained to the end. The various events, romantic, and even sensational, follow naturally and neatly, and the whole is a very clever piece of work." _SCOTSMAN_--"The book is full of passages of remarkable power. A reader will find it hard to decide whether this is not the best of Mr. Crawford's novels." A CIGARETTE-MAKER'S ROMANCE. _OXFORD MAGAZINE_--"The idea of the story is original, the characters well drawn, and the interest sustained to the very last page. That Mr. Crawford, having a good story to tell, should tell it well, was only to be expected." _GLOBE_--"We are inclined to think this the best of Mr. Marion Crawford's stories.... His art is here at its best, and those who read his book will feel grateful to him for its keen humanity." NOVELS BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD. New and Uniform Edition. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. each. =ROBBERY UNDER ARMS.= A STORY OF LIFE AND ADVENTURE IN THE BUSH AND IN THE GOLD-FIELDS OF AUSTRALIA. =GUARDIAN=--"A singularly spirited and stirring tale of Australian life, chiefly in the remoter settlements.... 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The book is lively and readable from first to last." =A COLONIAL REFORMER.= =ATHEN�UM=--"A series of natural and entertaining pictures of Australian life, which are, above all things, readable." =GLASGOW HERALD=--"One of the most interesting books about Australia we have ever read." =SATURDAY REVIEW=--"Mr. Boldrewood can tell what he knows with great point and vigour, and there is no better reading than the adventurous parts of his books." =A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.= =GLASGOW HERALD=--"The interest never flags, and altogether 'A Sydney-Side Saxon' is a really refreshing book." =ANTI-JACOBIN=--"Thoroughly well worth reading.... A clever book, admirably written.... Brisk in incident, truthful and life-like in character.... Beyond and above all it has that stimulating hygienic quality, that cheerful, unconscious healthfulness, which makes a story like 'Robinson Crusoe,' or 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' so unspeakably refreshing after a course of even good contemporary fiction." =NEVERMORE.= =ACADEMY=--"Is perhaps the best story of the Rolf Boldrewood Series. Must be allowed to be one of the best works of the period." MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. * * * * * =MACMILLAN'S= =Three-and-Sixpenny= =Library= OF WORKS BY POPULAR AUTHORS In crown 8vo, cloth extra. [Illustration: MR. F. MARION CRAWFORD.] _Recent Additions to the Series:_ =Historical Characters.= By Sir HENRY LYTTON BULWER (Lord DALLING). =Curiosities of Natural History.= In 4 vols. By FRANK BUCKLAND. =The Dewy Morn:= A Novel. By RICHARD JEFFERIES. =The Ingoldsby Legends.= With 50 Illustrations by CRUIKSHANK, LEECH, TENNIEL, etc. =Consequences:= A Novel. By EGERTON CASTLE. =Thirlby Hall.= By W. E. NORRIS. =A Bachelor's Blunder.= By W. E. NORRIS. =Breezie Langton.= By HAWLEY SMART. =The Three Clerks.= By ANTHONY TROLLOPE. =Fickle Fortune.= By E. WERNER. =Success, and How He Won It.= By E. WERNER. =Private Life of Marie Antoinette.= By MADAME CAMPAN. =The Life of Oliver Cromwell.= By M. GUIZOT. =Mary Queen of Scots.= By M. MIGNET. =Memories of Father Healy of Little Bray.= =Autobiography and Reminiscences.= By W. P. FRITH, R.A. =The Recollections of Marshall Macdonald, Duke of Tarentum.= _A complete List of the Series will be found on the following pages._ [Illustration: ROLF BOLDREWOOD.] _ANONYMOUS._ Hogan, M.P. Tim. The New Antigone. Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsellor. _By ROLF BOLDREWOOD._ Robbery Under Arms. The Squatter's Dream. A Colonial Reformer. The Miner's Right. A Sidney-Side Saxon. Nevermore. A Modern Buccaneer. The Sealskin Coat. Old Melbourne Memories. My Run Home. The Crooked Stick. Plain Living. _By ROSA N. CAREY._ Nellie's Memories. Wee Wifie. Barbara Heathcote's Trial. Robert Ord's Atonement. 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Walter Paget. Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A. Frank Short. W. Strang. Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A., P.R.S.A. Arthur Hopkins, A.R.W.S. R. Herdman, R.S.A. D. Herdman. Hugh Cameron, R.S.A. =MACMILLAN & CO., Limited, LONDON= * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Minor punctuation corrections have been made without comment. On p. 155 the word "Sham" has a macron (straight line) above the "a" in the original text which has been removed in this e-text. A Table of Contents has been created by the transcriber to aid reader navigation in this e-text. Word Variations: "carcase(s)" (2) (Br. sp.) and "carcass" (1) "Khaled ibn Walid" (1) and "Khaled ibn Walad" (1) (both referred to as "the Sword of the Lord") 
39463	----	BEHIND THE VEIL IN PERSIA AND TURKISH ARABIA An Account of an Englishwoman's Eight Years' Residence Amongst the Women of the East By M. E. HUME-GRIFFITH With Narratives of Experiences in Both Countries By A. Hume-Griffith, M.D., D.P.H. With 37 Illustrations and a Map Philadelphia J. B. Lippincott Company London: Seeley & Co. Ltd. 1909 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO MY HUSBAND IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF EIGHT HAPPY YEARS 1900-1908 PREFACE I have endeavoured in this book to give some account of that inner life of the East of which a traveller, however keen-sighted and intelligent, seldom gains more than a passing glimpse. In a residence of eight years in Persia and Turkish Arabia I have become intimate with a large circle of friends whose life is passed behind the veil, and as the wife of a medical missionary I have had unusual opportunities of winning their confidence and becoming acquainted with their thoughts. Of direct missionary effort I have said very little, but I hope that the picture I have given may arouse interest in lives spent amongst surroundings so different from our own. It is impossible for any one, however unversed in politics, who has lived so long in Mesopotamia, not to be deeply interested in the future of the country. While all Europe has been filled with astonishment at the bloodless revolution in Turkey, we who have become familiar with its inner life are touched with a feeling of admiration and something akin to awe. Whatever misgivings there may be as to the permanence of this reformation we hope and trust that it will endure. Of one imminent change the effect is likely to be far-reaching. The new government has secured the services of Sir William Wilcox as their adviser in great irrigation schemes. Irrigation in Mesopotamia will change the whole face of the country; vast stretches of desert will be transformed into a garden, ruined villages will be restored, a new kingdom may be born, and Babylon possibly rebuilt. Mosul, practically on the site of ancient Nineveh, will become easy of access from Europe by means of the Baghdad railway and the restored navigation of the Tigris. Its waste places may be filled with corn, and the city be crowned once more with some of its ancient glory. I should like to take this opportunity of thanking all those who have kindly allowed me to use their photographs, amongst them the Rev. C. H. Stileman, Dr. Saati of Mosul, and the Publishing Department of the Church Missionary Society. I am indebted to Professor Brown's valuable book entitled "A Year amongst the Persians" for information on the Babi religion, and to Sir A. H. Layard's classical work on the excavations of Nineveh, which I have frequently had occasion to consult. M. E. H.-G. CONTENTS Part I Chapter I Early Impressions Page Start for Persia--Arrival at Isphahan--Departure for Kerman--The Land of the Lion and the Sun--A rainy day and its effects--Eclipse--Locusts--Sand-storms--Land of cats--Modes of conveyance--Inhabitants 17 Chapter II Kerman Short history of Kerman--Its overthrow--City of beggars--Story of the fort--The jackal's "tale of woe" 30 Chapter III Persian Industries Carpet-making--How to tell a good carpet--How to make a carpet--The cry of the children--Shawl manufactures--Calico-printing--Brass-work--Agricultural industries--Water disputes--Kanâts--Poppy crops--Wheat and corn--Tobacco-growing 40 Chapter IV The Climate of Persia Resht, Teheran, Isphahan--Dryness of atmosphere--Cellars--Roof life--Children attacked by jackals--Chequered history of work in Kerman 50 Chapter V Holidays in Persia How to ensure a prosperous journey--Natanz--Astonishment of natives at sight of hairpins--Pulivagoon--Mahoon--Aliabâd--Prince under canvas--Visit from a Persian princess--A Persian deer hunt 59 Chapter VI Social Life in Persia Kerman--House-hunting and building--White ants--Housekeeping in Kerman--Servant question--Truth v. falsehood--Abdul Fateh--Bagi--Recreations--Some exciting rides--Persian etiquette--Dinner at the governor's 71 Chapter VII The Women of Persia Home Life--Anderoon, women's quarters--Jealousy in the anderoon--Anderoon of Khan Baba Khan--Two days in an anderoon--H.R.H. Princess Hamadané Sultané--Visit to the anderoon of H.R.H. the Zil-es-Sultan 84 Chapter VIII More About Persian Women Costumes--Wedding festivities--Wedding dinner--Kindness of Persian husbands--Story of brutality--Divorce--Aids to beauty--Degradation and cruelty of women 95 Chapter IX Some Points in the Moslem Faith Fasts and feasts--Seyyids, Dervishes, Mullahs--Legends of the drowning mullah, and the yard-square hole 106 Chapter X Other Religious Sects The Báb and Babism--Short sketch of life of the Báb--His imprisonment and execution--Parsees, or Zoroastrians--Persecutions of Parsees in seventh century--Sacred writings of Parsees, Zendavesta--Fire-worshipping--Fire temples--Holy fire--Parsee wedding--Costume of women--Death customs--Burial customs 116 Chapter XI Desert Delights Songs of the desert--Sunsets, sunrises, mirages--Illness in the desert--Mehman khanehs, caravanserais--Chappa khanehs--Lost in the desert--Its cruelties and sadness 130 Chapter XII Persian Medical Missions The need of them--Work in Isphahan--The "little devil" transformed into a boy--Amputation--Brothers in adversity--H.R.H. Zil-es-Sultan as a patient--Fanaticism overcome 140 Chapter XIII Pioneer Medical Mission Work in Kerman Waiting for drugs and instruments--Native assistant proves a broken reed--First operation in Kerman--An anxious moment--Success--Doctrine of "savab" convenient to the Moslem--Fanaticism tempered with prudence--Opium slaves--Persian therapeutics--Persian quacks and their methods--Sure way of curing cancer--Hysteria 151 Chapter XIV Medical Mission Work in Yezd A hospital--A friendly governor--A suspicious case--Superstition--The opium habit--A case of cataract--We return to England 164 Part II Chapter I The City of Nineveh The fast of Jonah--The bridge of boats--Traditions as to ancient history of Mosul--Elkos, birthplace of Nahum the prophet--Shurgât--Climate of Mosul--Cultivation and industries--Importance of Mosul 173 Chapter II The People of Mosul Population--Moslems--Christians--Chaldeans--Nestorians--Jacobites --Arabs--Kurds--Jews--Yezidees--Recreations--Warfare of the slingers--Hammam Ali--The recreation ground of Mosul men and women 186 Chapter III The River Tigris Ancient historical interest--Garden of Eden--Origin of name unknown--Swiftness--Sources--Navigation--Keleqs--Bathing, fishing, washing--Crossing rivers 198 Chapter IV The Children of Mosul Spoiling process--Despair of the parents--The "god" of the hareem--Death by burning--Festivities at birth of boy--Cradles and cradle songs--School life--Feast in honour of a boy having read the Koran through--"Only a girl"--Girl life--Girl victims of Naseeb--Marriage 208 Chapter V The Moslem Women of Mosul Beauty behind the veil--Types of beauty--My dear old friend of 110 years of age--Aids to beauty described--Pretty children--Beauty tainted with sin--Imprisonment of women--Peeps into some hareems--Warm receptions--A visit from the ladies of a select hareem--Love the magic key to open hearts 219 Chapter VI Moslem Family Life No home life--Women equal with the beasts--Evils of divorce--Naseeb--The will of God--Truth and falsehood--Honesty prevalent--A thief caught--Swearing and anti-swearing--Fighting--Hair-tearing and biting--Hammam, the ladies' club 231 Chapter VII Customs of Mosul Wedding ceremonies--Great expense to parents--Method of procedure--Funeral customs--Customs at birth--Some other customs 244 Chapter VIII Dreams and Visions Ezekiel's vision by the river Chebar--Our vision by the river Khabour--Rivers identical--"A wheel within a wheel"--Babylonish emblem of divinity--Origin of the cherubim--Dream of a woman suffering from cataract--Effect of dream on her character--Watch and chain recovered by means of a "faked" dream--Illustration of the doctrine of Kismet or Naseeb--"Ghosts" in our compound--Atmosphere of ghosts bad for fowls 257 Chapter IX Manners and Superstitions in Mosul Characteristics of inhabitants of Mosul--Social habits--Love of drink--An effectual cure--Gambling--Tel Kaif: a story of Uncle Goro--The Angel of Death, and other titles--Difficulties over name and age--Some superstitions--Effect of scent on women--Birds of good omen--Thieves--Sheep-killing--Sheikh Matti--An angel's visit--Medical superstitions--Cure for hydrophobia 269 Chapter X The Yezidees Gratitude to the English--Persecutions--"Devil-worshippers"--Sun and fire worship--Priesthood--A visit to Sheikh Âdi--Peacock wands--A sacred shrine 284 Chapter XI Travelling in the Desert Monotony of desert travelling--A puppy and a kitten tragedy--Accident by the river Euphrates--Riots in Mosul--Robberies and murder excited by love of gold 294 Chapter XII The Pleasures of Desert Travelling Desert blossoms as a rose--Flowers of the desert--Arabs, their occupation and women--Arab dancing--Robbers of the desert--An army of 10,000--Five hundred armed men--False alarms--Lost in the desert--Delights and disturbances of travelling 307 Chapter XIII Pioneer Medical Mission Work in Mosul (Nineveh) Winning the confidence of the people--Native surgery--Difficulties to be overcome--Backward patients--Encouraging work--Prevalent diseases--Lunatics--Possible future of Mesopotamia 317 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Page The Author and her Husband in Bakhtian Costume Frontispiece Persian Conveyances 26 A Halt for Lunch 26 A Novel Drying Ground 46 Persian Mode of Irrigation 46 A "Chimney" of Yezd 54 A Korsi Or Heating Contrivance 54 House-building in Persia 72 Persian Shops 72 Scene from the Roof of our House at Kerman 76 A Street in Kerman 76 The Mosque Gate, City of Kerman 86 A Mountain Pass 132 A Caravanserai 132 A Very Ancient Bridge 142 A Typical Street in Baghdad 142 Using the X Rays in Julfa Hospital 148 A Ward in the Julfa Hospital 148 Opium Making 158 The Rich Beggar 158 Types of Persian Jews 166 The Water Square 166 Our Home in Nineveh 174 A Bridge of Boats 176 The Bridge of Boats Over the Frozen Tigris 180 A Picnic Party 188 Mutrar Paulus, Syrian Roman Catholic Bishop 192 Dr. Hume-Griffith's Study in Mosul 210 Our Drawing-room in Julfa 210 A Group of Persian Girls 216 The Camera in Mosul 222 Tired of Play at a Picnic 222 An Itinerant Cook preparing Kabobs 224 Bread-making 240 A Mosul Bride 246 A Wonderful Vision 259 Travelling in Winter 296 PART I "So, after the sore torments of the route, Toothache and headache, and the ache of mind, And huddled sleep and smarting wakefulness, And night and day, and hunger sick at food, And twenty-fold relays, and packages To be unlocked, and passports to be found, And heavy well-kept landscape--we are glad Because we entered (Persia) in the Sun." D. G. Rossetti. BEHIND THE VEIL IN PERSIA AND TURKISH ARABIA CHAPTER I EARLY IMPRESSIONS Start for Persia--Arrival at Isphahan--Departure for Kerman--The Land of the Lion and the Sun--A rainy day and its effects--Eclipse--Locusts--Sand-storms--Land of cats--Modes of conveyance--Inhabitants. "'Tis the sight of a lifetime to behold The great shorn sun as you see it now Across eight miles of undulant gold That widens landward, weltered and rolled With patches of shadow and crimson stains." Lowell. "Shadow maker, shadow slayer, arrowing light from clime to clime." Lord Tennyson. Our life in Persia extended over a period of three years, dating from the spring of 1900 to that of 1903. It was with great joy I heard the news, early in February of 1900, that my husband had been appointed by the Church Missionary Society to open medical work in Kerman, and that we were to start almost at once. Within a month we were married, had bought our outfit, bid sorrowful farewells to our relations and friends, and started for the romantic land of Persia. From London to Isphahan took us just nine weeks, as we were delayed by illness for some weeks both in Russia and in the Persian Desert. However, on 9th May we entered the beautiful city of Isphahan, to find a warm welcome awaiting us from friends there. This place will always have a very warm corner in my heart, for it was there we made our first home. The doctor in charge of the work at Julfa (the Christian quarter of Isphahan) having left on furlough, my husband was asked to remain there till his return, which he accordingly did. It was not till the following spring that we left for Kerman. Thus our first impressions of this land of light and darkness were gathered from Isphahan and its neighbourhood. There is no after time so full of interest to those who live abroad as the first year spent in a new life and country, gleaning fresh ideas, seeing new sights, gaining experiences often dearly bought, but which must be purchased ere the newcomer can settle down to life in the East with any comfort or peace of mind. The native servants love to obtain posts with fresh comers, knowing that for the first few months, at any rate, they will have an exceedingly good time, being able to make a huge medâqal (profit) from the unsuspecting Feringhi. I sigh to think of the many ways in which we were cheated those first few months of our life in Persia, but no one breathed a word to us, realising that our eyes would be opened only too soon, and that experience was the most effectual teacher. It is a strange fact that all housekeepers new to the land think their servants are perfect till they find out, perhaps when too late, their foolish delusion. From the very first my heart went out in affection to the dear Moslem women, and now, after eight years spent amongst them, I can truly say that my love has deepened, and my sympathies become enlarged, for these charming but, alas, too often unhappy followers of Mohammed. Our knowledge of Persia extends especially to three cities, in each of which we spent a year. Isphahan, as we have seen, was our first home, then came a year at Kerman, a distance of some 500 miles separating the two cities. Finally we spent a very happy year at Yezd, that City of Sand, situated midway between Isphahan and Kerman. Of each of these cities we shall hear more in other chapters. Persia has well been called the Land of the Lion and the Sun. Certainly the latter name is well deserved, for the sun is almost always shining, and without the brilliant sunshine we should hardly recognise it as the land of Persia. The symbol of the Lion and the Sun originated in the days when the Zoroastrians were the inhabitants of the land. The Sun, being the emblem of the Fire Worshippers, was taken as their national badge. The Lion was added later because Ali, the grandson of Mohammed, was called "The Lion of God." The woman's face in the Sun was inserted some years later by one of the Persian kings as a tribute to his favourite wife. The sunshine of Persia forms one of its greatest attractions. Even in winter the dull, cloudy days are few and far between. When by chance a rainy day does come, the people are so surprised and taken aback that they seem paralysed for the time being, and are unable to go about their usual business. The remembrance of our first experience of a rainy day still lingers in my memory. We had awakened one morning much later than usual to find the sky clouded over and the rain coming down in torrents. I was surprised to find that we had not been called as usual, but imagined the servants had forgotten to do so. Upon entering the dining-room, what was my surprise to find no preparations for a meal. Calling the servant, I asked him why breakfast was not ready. At this he seemed quite hurt, as he answered, "But, Khanum (lady), it is raining!" This fact was to his mind quite sufficient reason for everything. As long as the rain lasted the servants could be prevailed upon to do nothing except crouch over the fire and shiver! The moment the rain ceased and the sun once more shone out they resumed their normal state. This constant sunshine is a great boon to the beggars and poor, helping to make life endurable for them; they need very little clothing, as a rule, to enable them to keep warm. So long as they can lie and bask in the sunshine, picking up bread enough to sustain life, they trouble very little about working or earning money. There is only one place where there is very little sunshine, and that is in the hearts and lives of the people. Especially, perhaps, is this true in the case of the women of the land, as we shall see presently. A Persian gentleman once visited England, and on his return to his native country was questioned by his friends as to which was the better land to live in. His reply was to the effect that in England the houses were grander, the scenery more beautiful, but that there was no sunshine! This lack, to his mind, far outweighed all the other advantages which might belong to England, and his friends decided that, after all, Persia was the better country to live in. When there happens to be a cloudy day or night in summer, the result is anything but cooling, for the air becomes terribly oppressive, it is almost impossible to breathe, and during the night it is quite useless to think of or hope for sleep till the clouds have rolled away. The natives are very much alarmed when an eclipse of the sun takes place, as they are afraid they are going to lose their benefactor. Once, while we were in Yezd, the sun was eclipsed. Suddenly hundreds of guns and cannons were fired off from all parts of the town. We ran out to see what had happened, and were met by our frightened servants carrying their guns, who told us that an enormous fish was trying to swallow the sun, and that they hoped, by making a terrific noise, to frighten it away! Great was their joy and relief when the shadow began to pass from the sun. Sand-storms are terrible trials in Persia. Quite suddenly, without any warning, the light disappears, clouds upon clouds of dust come rushing in. Before you have time to shut all the doors and windows, everything in the house is covered with a fine white dust. Sand-storms are disagreeable and trying to the patience when they find you in the house, but when you are caught in a heavy sand-storm out in the desert, it is often a source of great danger. If riding, the only possible thing to do is to dismount, cover your head and face as well as possible, turn your back to the storm, and hope for the best. At other times the light is obliterated in the daytime by a swarm of locusts passing overhead. Till I saw this myself I could hardly believe it was possible for these little insects to obscure the light of the sun as they did. One day in Kerman we were just ready to set off for a ride, when suddenly the light vanished, and I thought a fearful thunderstorm was about to burst upon us. On looking up we saw what appeared to be a huge black cloud hovering overhead: presently this descended and resolved itself into myriads of flying insects. As some fell to the earth we found them to be locusts from two to three inches long. The natives were dreadfully alarmed lest they should settle on their fields, as it was springtime, and the ground was already green with promise of harvest. Had the locusts settled, it would have meant ruin and starvation to many. Fortunately, they passed over that time. We have seen that Persia is a land of sunshine, we must not forget that it is also a land of cats. I was amused the other day to see how differently two people can see the same thing. In the course of a conversation with a friend who was for some years in Persia, I asked him if he did not admire the Persian cats very much. "Never saw one," was his answer, and he maintained that the whole time he was in Persia he never saw a long-haired cat. My experience was quite the reverse, for I hardly remember ever seeing an ordinary short-haired one during the three years we were in Persia. We had some beautiful white ones, but they were very delicate, and generally came to an untimely end. We tried to take one to Kerman, but it met with a sad death when only half way there. Cats are exported on quite a large scale to India and other places. They are taken to the coast by horse-dealers, who tether them in much the same way as they do their horses. One of the late Shahs is said to have been very devoted to cats, and always took one with him when he travelled, a special baggage animal being reserved for the cage of this favourite pet. There are many ways of journeying in Persia, and the would-be traveller can take his choice according to his own ideas of comfort and convenience. To my mind the most pleasant way of all is to have your own horses for riding, and thus be able to set your own pace and not have to be bound down to the slow, wearying, never-changing rate of the caravan. For those who do not care for, or are not strong enough for riding, there are many conveyances. Here, again, the traveller has quite a large choice of good things. First of all there is the "kajâvah." This consists of two cage-like boxes, suspended one on each side of the animal: the interior of these boxes sometimes boasts of a little low seat, but as a rule is innocent of any such luxury. Two people of about the same weight must sit on each side, or the result is disastrous. I remember once being with a large caravan. In one of these kajâvahs was travelling a Government official and his wife. He was very tiny, she was quite the reverse, the result being that the little man was generally up in the air while the opposite side of the kajâvah was weighed down nearly to the ground. They tried all manner of experiments in their endeavour to strike the balance, gathering stones and depositing them in the lighter side, tying bags of fuel, &c., to the outside of the kajâvah, but all of no avail. At last, in disgust and anger, the woman jumped out without giving her husband any warning: the result to onlookers was ludicrous! The wife refused all that day again to enter the kajâvah, preferring to walk, till one of the muleteers offered her a seat on the top of one of the baggage mules. The little man was soon balanced with stones picked up by the wayside, and travelled for the rest of that day in peace and comfort. At the end of the stage, however, his wife would not speak to him or cook his dinner for him! and the man (who was quite the reverse of an ordinary Moslem man) came to one of my husband's assistants, begging him to act as mediator. In this case the man and woman seem to have exchanged places as regards character, the wife being decidedly the master, and he, poor man, looked as if he hardly dared call his soul his own. Even amongst Moslems there doubtless are some strong-minded women. I have travelled many miles in one of these kajâvahs, finding them very comfortable and restful, after riding for hours. My husband had a pair specially made for me, with seats inside, and nicely cushioned: these always went with us on our journeys in Persia, so that, when I tired of riding, I could rest awhile. While I was not using them our servants had to take my place, a favour they did not always appreciate. When travelling by night, I have slept for hours at a stretch in one of these kajâvahs, the steady measured walk of the mule favouring slumber. Sometimes, however, the monotony is broken by the mule suddenly dropping on to its front knees, and you find yourself deposited on the ground, shot out like an arrow from its bow. If this form of conveyance does not appeal to the traveller then there is the "takhtiravan." This is a most luxurious mode of conveyance, and is, as a rule, only used by invalids or high-class Moslem ladies. It consists of a box, with doors and windows, measuring about six or seven feet by four in length and five in height. The top is covered with heavy felt or some material which will keep out the sun or the rain, according to which season of the year you are travelling in. Inside is placed a mattress with plenty of cushions: the whole is built on shafts which are slung between two mules, one in front and one behind. The motion is rather like that of a rolling ship, and, unless the occupant is a good sailor, the experience is not always a pleasant one. I once travelled for a week in one of these conveyances, and on arriving at our destination found my back was a mass of bruises. The takhtiravan is very good for night travelling, as you can lie flat down and sleep, provided the animals keep in step and the road is good. On an uneven road the sensation is not too comfortable. We once had a never-to-be-forgotten week of torture in a springless wagon; it really was too terrible. Oh, the jolting, the jarring, and the bone shaking! Each day the misery increased, till every bone in our bodies was bruised and aching, and every nerve racked to its utmost. I should not recommend this mode of conveyance to any one contemplating a journey in Persia. When we first went to the Land of the Lion and the Sun, carriages were very scarce and very expensive south of Teheran. Now they are becoming much more generally used, at any rate as far as Isphahan. When we left Kerman in 1902 we drove to Yezd in a carriage kindly lent to us by one of the Kerman native gentlemen. Albeit the wheels came off occasionally and various other accidents took place, still it was a very luxurious way of travelling, comparatively speaking. Then, when we finally left Persia in 1903, we drove from Isphahan to Teheran in a private carriage belonging to a friend who lent it to us for the journey; so that I fully expect by now that travelling by carriage has become quite the ordinary mode of journeying in Persia. The last part of that drive into Teheran has left a vivid remembrance on my mind. It was a Saturday, and we were very desirous of reaching Teheran that night, otherwise it meant spending Sunday at a village near the city, as we did not like travelling on that day. So we determined to push on at all costs. To add to our difficulties it began to pour with rain soon after starting in the morning, and continued a steady drench the whole day. Long before we reached the end of our stage we were both wet through to the skin. Sunset found us still some twenty miles out of Teheran, and, the horses beginning to show signs of fatigue, we perforce had to rest them for a while. When we were within five miles or so of the city, we found the road all flooded, and it was difficult to know where the road ended and the ditch began which ran parallel to the road on both sides. It was by then pitch dark, so there was nothing to be done but let the horses take their own way, hoping their instincts would lead them and us safely. All went well till we were within sight of the lights of Teheran, when suddenly smash went the carriage, and down fell the horses into a deep ditch. One poor horse (our own, which we were taking to Teheran to sell) never moved, and we thought he was dead. I jumped down from the dogcart and landed in the ditch nearly up to my waist in water! The lamps had gone out, and we were in total darkness. We called and called for help but no one came, so my husband and I walked on a little to see if we could find any one to help, leaving the horses and carriage in charge of the driver, who was half beside himself with fear. Presently we came across a little wayside coffee-house, and found some men who were willing to go and help extricate the poor horses from their dangerous position, while we walked on to the gate of the city and waited in the porter's lodge. After about an hour the carriage came along, the horses looking none the worse for their escapade. Our kind friends of the American Mission were waiting up, and had prepared hot baths and hot drinks for us, knowing that if we did arrive that night at all we should be in a terrible plight. Thanks to their kindness and thoughtfulness, we suffered no harm from our damp and adventurous drive. The inhabitants of Persia are: Moslems, the Persians of to-day; Zoroastrians (Parsees), the Persians of yesterday; Armenians, and Jews. Of the two former I will not speak now, as we shall make their acquaintance a little later. A few words will suffice for Armenians and Jews. The former were brought from Julfa in Armenia many years ago by some former Shah on account of their industry and workmanship. He gave them a suburb of Isphahan to live in, and very soon a large Armenian settlement sprang up. Julfa of Persia is about three miles from Isphahan. Here all the Armenians live, and until quite lately the Europeans also, as it was not considered safe for them to reside in Isphahan. However, of late years this is all changed, most of the Europeans now having houses in Isphahan. The Armenians are very clever workmen in all crafts and trades. Also to their shame be it said that they are the wine and spirit makers for the Isphahanis. A true Moslem is not allowed to make or drink wine. Thanks to the Armenians, however, the temptation is ever at hand ready for him, with plenty of opportunities afforded him of indulging in secret. The Armenians make very good assistants for hospital work, some of them turning out quite good doctors. One young fellow was with my husband for two years. After we left he went to India, where he took a medical course, and is now a fully qualified doctor practising in India. They have plenty of "push" in them, and once they make up their minds to get on, no obstacle is too great for them to overcome. The Jews of Persia are a miserably poor, degraded class of people. Their lot is a very hard one; despised and oppressed by the Moslems, hated and cursed by all, their life is not enviable. They are to be found everywhere, in Isphahan, Yezd, Kerman, and many other cities. My heart often ached for these poor, wretched people as they flocked to the dispensaries. Fortunately for them, there is a Mission amongst the Jews in Persia which helps in no small way to brighten the lives of the poor, downtrodden people. We have taken a fleeting glance at the Land of the Lion and the Sun; we must now try and become more intimately acquainted with some of its towns and their inhabitants. CHAPTER II KERMAN Short history of Kerman--Its overthrow--City of beggars--Story of the fort--The jackal's "tale of woe." "A little red worm--the gard'ner's special dread." V. Fane. The first view we had of Kerman was a very picturesque one. We had been travelling for about twenty days, and on Easter Eve reached a lovely garden some four or five hours' ride from Kerman, and here we decided to stay for Easter Day. Early on Monday morning we started for the last stage of our journey. Just as the sun was rising we came to the top of a hill, and there away in the distance lay the city of Kerman, the city towards which our hopes and thoughts had been tending for so long, as it was the goal to which we had been pressing for the past twelve months, and which we fondly hoped was to have been our home for many years; but God ordered otherwise. Kerman is a very interesting old city, having passed through many vicissitudes and seen many changes during its varied and chequered history. It is also a very pretty place, especially as seen from a short distance, surrounded on three sides by the eternal mountains, with their ever-changing shades and shadows, and forming a magnificent background to the city nestling at their feet. On the fourth side the desert stretches away to Yezd and Isphahan. Kerman is said to have derived its name from a Persian word Kerm, meaning a worm, and the legend connected with it is as follows. The princess who founded the city was one day walking with her followers over the site of the future town, and plucked an apple from a tree: upon eating it she found to her disgust and annoyance a worm at its core. As she threw it away in anger, she declared that the new city should be called Kerm-an, a worm. Kerman is certainly a very ancient city: the inhabitants claim that it was a large town in the time of Solomon. Whether this is so I do not know. The first time it is mentioned in history is by Herodotus. Alexander is said to have marched his army through Kerman on his way to India, and Cyrus passed that way on his return from India. Perhaps few places have suffered more at the hands of invaders than Kerman. It has been sacked at least six times, and in 1794 the city was almost entirely destroyed by Agha Mohammed Khan. The city was bravely defended by the prince-governor, who was one of the last of the Zend dynasty; he sustained a long and severe siege, till two-thirds of his troops had perished from starvation, and then the city was betrayed treacherously into the hands of the enemy and its brave defenders obliged to flee, only to meet with a cruel death some two years later from the hands of the same oppressor. This incarnation of cruelty, Agha Mohammed Khan, gave the city over to the will of his soldiers, who resembled their leader in cruelty and barbarity. There was no compassion in his heart, and he would listen to none of the entreaties of the unfortunate inhabitants for mercy, nor would he withdraw his troops from the city till he had received a gift of twenty thousand pairs of human eyes. When these were brought to him, he insisted on counting them over himself to see if the number was correct, and is reported to have said to the trembling man who carried the baskets piled high with these awful trophies: "It is a good thing the number is correct; if it had not been, your eyes would have gone to make up the exact number." The city never recovered from this terrible blow, and to-day Kerman is a byword among Persians for its poverty and extraordinary number of beggars. If you were to ride through the bazaars you would be struck by the tremendous number of beggars, all holding out their hands, beseeching you for the love of God to give them a copper. There is a quaint saying among the beggars which one hears very often; it is as follows:-- "Khuda guft, 'Beddeh,' Shaitan guft, 'Neddeh'" (God says, "Give"; Satan says, "Don't give"). Just outside Kerman are the remains of two old fortresses, the larger of which is called the Galah i Doukhta, or the Fort of the Maiden, doubtless on account of the story connected with it. These fortresses were built on small hills, and so alike are they in formation and colour to the soil that it is difficult to see where the castle begins and the hill ends. Between these two old fortresses lie the ruins of ancient Kerman. This city was the last to fall under the Moslem sway in its invasion of Persia, and the legend connected with it is interesting. The city was surrounded on all hands by the Moslem invaders, and it seemed as if the enemy would be obliged to retreat, as its defenders had withdrawn themselves into the castles or fortresses already mentioned. These had been well provisioned for a long siege in case of need, and also were connected with the outer world by means of underground passages, known only to those in the castles. All, perhaps, might have gone well but for the fact that there lived in the fortress a beautiful woman--alas! as treacherous as beautiful. She was the idolised daughter of the king of the castle; nothing was too good for this loved and spoilt beauty. Her father showered gifts upon her--gold, jewellery, silks, all were hers; and it is said that just before the siege began her father had planned and designed a beautiful garden for her, such as never had been seen before. Being so loved and such a favourite of all, she was allowed to roam at will within the castle walls, and often beguiled the time by watching the besiegers who lay far below in the plain. One day her attention was attracted by a handsome Arab general, who always seemed to be foremost in all that was going on, leading his men into the most dangerous and exposed parts. Where the arrows fell fastest and most often, there this Arab prince was sure to be seen, always brave and courageous. His bravery, added to his good looks, so appealed to this spoilt and petted woman that she immediately fell in love with him. Day by day this love increased, till her whole soul was afire with all the abandon of an Eastern love, and she felt that nothing could or should keep her from her hero. "Love" soon found means of communicating with the object of its affection, for love is stronger than barred or barricaded fortresses. By some means, known only to herself and one other, she gave this Arab to understand that if only he would promise to marry her, she would deliver the castle into his hands. The Eastern as well as the Western agree that "All is fair in love and war," so this general of the East consented to this plan, and agreed to accept victory at the hands of treachery. Accordingly, all was arranged satisfactorily to both parties, and one dark, moonless night the deed was done. The lady of the castle, the idolised and beloved of all, became the betrayer of her people. After all had retired to rest that night, and the sentinels were lost in the dense darkness, she stealthily crept out of the castle, safely passed the sleeping men supposed to be on guard, and opened the secret gate to her lover and his soldiers--the enemies of her father and her country. A terrible massacre ensued, in which the father was slain, fortunately dying without the knowledge of his daughter's base action. The prince-general had given strict orders to his men that on no account was the girl to be touched during the attack on the castle, but that she was to be conducted to a place of safety till all was over. At last, in the early hours of the morning, the general had time to think of his ward. Tired out with his work of bloodshed and slaughter, but rejoicing in his unexpected victory, he sent for the girl to find out the reason of her willingness to thus betray her own people and land into the hands of the enemy. When brought into his presence he was amazed at the beauty and loveliness of the girl before him, and his heart went out in great love and admiration towards her. She, still thinking only of her own wicked infatuation, was congratulating herself that now her heart's desire was to be granted her, and she would soon become the wife of the man so long idealised and idolised. But alas! for her fair hopes. The general, notwithstanding her beauty, desired to find out what her motive was for doing as she had done, and so he plied her with questions. "Was she very unhappy?" "Was her father very cruel to her?" or "Had she done this to avenge herself for some wrong?" To all these she replied in the negative. "Then, in the name of wonder, what was your reason for sacrificing father, home, country and all?" cried the general. "For love of you," answered the now frightened girl, and she then told him how kind her father had been to her, how he had done all in his power to make her happy, and how nothing was ever denied her that he could possibly procure, but assured him that all this was as nothing to her compared to the great love which she felt towards him, her lover, and ended by beseeching him, now that she had sacrificed all for him, not to cast her away. At this the general was so disgusted and enraged with her, that he determined that she must die, and cast about in his mind for some means of death worthy of her selfishness and wickedness, "for," said he, "you are not a woman, you are a fiend, and therefore must die." He therefore ordered his men to bind her with cords, face downwards, on to the back of a wild horse, and to turn horse and its rider into the desert. This order was carried out amidst heartrending cries and entreaties for mercy from the girl, but to all the general paid no heed, declaring that she was only suffering a just death for the abominable behaviour to her own people. The soldiers followed the horse for some distance into the desert to prevent its returning, and thus perished the beautiful traitress of Kerman. I may say here that this form of death is not unknown even now in Persia, and I heard a story of a man who treated his wife in much the same way, only the idea was perhaps a little more diabolical. He was angry with her for some reason, and desired to rid himself of her, so he caught a cow, and kept it shut up without water for some days. Then he bound his wife under the body of the animal and sent it off. Of course the cow made for the nearest stream, and we can imagine better than describe the fate of the poor woman. The Kerman of to-day is a large walled-in city of about forty thousand souls. This wall is pierced by some dozen gates, some of which are in good repair, but others are fast falling into ruin. In fact, most of the buildings in Kerman, as well as other parts of Persia, are "kharab shodeh"--that is, either in ruins, or fast falling into that state. The "kharab" buildings outside the town are the abode of jackals, hyænas, owls, and other creatures of the desert. The story of how the jackals came to be inhabiters of the desert is told by the Kermanis with great gusto, and they quite sympathise with them in their banishment from the civilisation of town life. When in Kerman our house was outside the city, so we had the full benefit of the cries and wailings of these jackals, and at first it used to make me feel quite creepy, but after a time we became more accustomed to the weird music of the night, and missed the evening concerts when absent from Kerman. Sometimes the jackals would come right up into our garden, at other times their howling would come from the desert, like the far-away cry of a soul in torment, or the wailing of the banshee; but all night and every night the wailing, wailing went on, always crying for what they had not and never could have--never satisfied, and always letting people know the fact! The story of the dispute between the jackals and the dogs of Kerman was told me soon after our arrival there. It is said that, in olden days, the jackals were the domesticated pets of the inhabitants of the town, and lived quite happily and contentedly in their respective homes, always enjoying security and peace within the closed gates, while the dogs had to be content to be dwellers of the desert and ruins, outside the walls of the city. One day the dogs awoke to the fact that the jackals had much the better time of it, and they did not see why this unequal state of things should remain. They were tired of being always outsiders, always short of food, and exposed to all the chances of wind and weather--so they resolved to make a great effort to obtain a position inside the gates, where there was plenty of everything. Being Socialists, they believed in the maxim of "share and share alike," so they called a committee to consider by what means they could oust the jackals from their comfortable quarters and install themselves in their places. After due thought and much discussion, they determined to send some leading representatives to the city to interview the jackals. This they accordingly did, telling them that many of the dogs had been ill, and the doctor had ordered change of air for three days. Would not the noble jackals allow their humble neighbours the dogs to exchange places with them just for three days, in order that the invalids might have a chance of recovering their strength and health. At the same time they enlarged upon the beauties of the desert air, which they said would be so good for those who had been cooped up in the stifling city for so long. The jackals, after long and careful consideration, agreed to this proposition, arranging to leave their comfortable homes for three days only, at the expiration of which time all were to return to their original places. The next night the change was accomplished, and in the morning the people were all surprised to see dogs where the night before there had been jackals. However, they did not object very much. At the end of the three nights, the jackals came to the gates of the city and demanded admission, longing to return to their own haunts and homes, having found three days in the desert quite enough, there being no comparison between the comforts of the town and the dreariness and cold of the outside life. The dogs appreciated the change so much that they answered, "No, thank you, we prefer to stay where we are, and do not wish ever to return to the desert." So the poor jackals saw that they had been fooled, and went away sad and sorrowful, and every night since then have come howling for admission to the gates, and on the dogs answering "No," they go away wailing. And that is the reason why every night we can hear the howling and wailing of these disappointed creatures. And they will probably go on howling and wailing till the end of time, for the dogs are never likely to wish to return to the desert life. Such is the legend of the jackals and the dogs of Kerman. CHAPTER III PERSIAN INDUSTRIES Carpet-making--How to tell a good carpet--How to make a carpet--The cry of the children--Shawl manufactures--Calico-printing--Brass-work--Agricultural industries--Water disputes--Kanâts--Poppy crops--Wheat and corn--Tobacco-growing. Saying in Persia--"One plum gets colour by looking at another." "Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years; They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears; ... the child's sob in the silence curses deeper Than the strong man in his wrath." E. B. Browning. The subject of the industries of Persia is such an extensive one that I cannot even attempt to discuss it here at any great length. I only wish to describe a few of the manufactures and industries which came under our notice while in Persia. By far the most interesting of them all, to my mind, are the carpet manufactories to be found in many parts. Very few Europeans live for any length of time in Persia or other carpet-manufacturing countries without being affected by the carpet craze. They may try to fight against it, but they are almost sure to succumb, sooner or later! When choosing a carpet the first thing to do is to make sure that the colours are fast. This is done by moistening a handkerchief or small piece of white cloth and rubbing the carpet. If the slightest tinge of colour comes off, the carpet is not a good one. So much depends upon the nature and durability of dyes used. In olden days, the only dyes used were indigo, madder, and vine leaves. From these three ingredients they were able to mix and make most delicate and artistic shades, all of which were "fast" colours. Now, however, the aniline dyes are so commonly used that it is difficult to find a carpet in which all the colours are permanent. Europeans are often deceived when buying carpets, but natives seldom! When the latter invests in a carpet he expects it to last the whole of his lifetime, and not only of his life, but also of that of his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and perchance be more valuable at the end of that period than the day he purchased it. As a rule he realises his expectations. When a native buys a new carpet the first thing he does with it is to put it down in the bazaars for all the traffic to pass over it. The more muddy and filthy the shoes of the passers-by, the greater will be the beauty of the carpet afterwards, provided the colours are fast. This statement may perhaps refer more especially to Syria and Turkish Arabia, but I believe it is also true of Persia. I have, myself, often seen carpets laid down in this way in the bazaars of Damascus, Beyrout, Baghdad, and Mosul. I could never quite make up my mind to allow our carpets to be subjected to this treatment, though my husband always assured me it was the only way for the carpets to acquire that beautiful silky gloss, so dear to the heart of the carpet-lover. As a matter of fact that gloss is maintained by the native custom of leaving the shoes at the door. The constant walking upon the carpet with bare or stockinged feet tends to bring about this desirable finish: whilst, on the other hand, our barbarous custom of wearing dirty shoes in a room is not so good for the carpet, nor are tables and chairs great carpet-improvers. Before the time of exporting carpets from Persia in any great number only good carpets were made, but now the demand is so great that to keep up the supply a good deal of shoddy work is manufactured and sent out of the country. To be a good judge of a carpet you need to be quite an expert. Many things have to be taken into consideration. First the dyes, as we have already seen; then the number of stitches to the inch must be counted, and it is said that a good carpet contains about 10,000 stitches to the square foot, while some of the better ones have as many as 40,000. Another point to notice is to see whether both ends are the same width. This is done by doubling the carpet: if the ends do not coincide it is not a well-made carpet. Then, again, it should lie perfectly flat on the floor, otherwise it will crease in a very short time, and be worthless. My husband had a beautiful Kerman carpet given to him once: it was valued at £20, and, but for the fact that it does not lie flat on the floor, would be worth a good deal more. As it is, we have to keep it hanging on the wall, where it cannot get "rucked" or creased. Prices vary, of course, according to the size and make of the carpets. Very fair ones, the size of an ordinary hearthrug, can be had from £2, 10s. to £8 or £10. Silk ones cost a great deal more, but are worth the money. A small silk rug can be bought for £50, but they can be obtained any price up to £500 or £1000. A mixture of wool and silk is now made to suit the European market, but is not so durable as the pure silk ones. It is generally acknowledged that the Kurdistan carpets are the best: they are the most expensive, being about £3 the square yard. The chief attraction of these lies in the fact that they are alike on both sides, and are very smooth and fine. Next to these come those made at Kerman, the design being quite different to those of Kurdistan. In the Kerman carpets it is not at all uncommon to find figures of men and animals, sometimes almost life size. Whilst in Kerman we visited one or two of the carpet manufactories, and were very much interested in watching the process. All carpets are, of course, made without machinery of any kind. The warp is stretched on a loom, which is merely a frame. The woof consists of short threads woven and knotted by hand without the aid of a shuttle. When a row is finished it is pressed tightly to the rest of the web by means of a comb inserted into the warp. The "pile" is regulated by the amount clipped off. For a velvet pile the woof is clipped very close, till a perfectly smooth, even surface is obtained. The weaver does not see the pattern as he works, as he sits with the reverse side of the web towards him. The looms are generally kept in an underground vaulted room, often with water running through the centre. At each loom three or four workers sit, according to the size of the carpet. Sometimes the workers consist of one man and two children, and occasionally the owner uses boys and girls only for the weaving, one man acting as overseer to the children. I sat on the high stool by the side of a tiny girl whose fingers were working away so fast I could hardly follow her movements. The overseer was walking up and down the room, calling out instructions to the workers. To me it sounded a horrible, incoherent jumble, but the children seemed to understand it perfectly. The overseer held in his hand a paper, from which he was apparently reading out instructions. Not having a very thorough knowledge of the Persian language, it was impossible to follow, but as far as I could make out it was something as follows: To No. 1. Three blue threads, one white, two green; No. 2. Four yellow, one white; and so on, each child repeating after the "master" the instructions given. As it was all said in a high-pitched monotone, the result was confusing and deafening, but there the little weavers sit, day in, day out, week after week, in this damp, gloomy cellar, kept hard at it by the unrelenting overseer. The children are taken on as "weavers" when very young, some even starting when five or six years old. Their hours of work are from sunrise to sunset in the summer, and until two or three hours after sunset in the winter, and they are paid at the enormous rate of about 2d. a day, sometimes starting with even less, whilst learning the work. The consequence of this abominable sweating system is that to-day there are hundreds of little children in Kerman, from eight to nine years of age, confirmed cripples from rheumatism and other diseases. From sitting so long in one position, while still of tender years, amid such damp surroundings, their little feet and hands become knotted and deformed. They can no longer earn their daily bread, so perforce must help to swell the great multitude of beggars who throng the streets and bazaars of Kerman. I once saw a little girl about seven years old sitting by the roadside just outside our house. On asking her why she was sitting there all alone, her reply was, "Mother sent me to my work (carpet-weaving), but my feet hurt me so, I can't walk." She was waiting there whilst a companion in work and sorrow ran to try and find some one who would carry her friend to the workroom. When we think of the sufferings of these hundreds of poor innocent children, do not our hearts ache with sadness for them? Surely the "Cry of the Children" of Kerman will go up to God, and He will have mercy. In the meantime, because people want cheap Persian carpets, these little martyrs must be willing to sacrifice childhood's happy days, health, aye, and often life itself, on the altar of cheapness. Major (now Colonel) Phillott, then acting British Consul in Kerman, was so horrified at what he saw of the state of these little sufferers, that he determined to start a loom of his own, employing men only to do the weaving. This he accordingly did, finding, of course, that the expense was enormous, as men's wages were so much higher than the children's, and also that they would not consent to such long hours. So long as children are to be had for a mere nominal wage, so long will the weavers use them, caring nothing for their sorrows, only bent on making money--the god of the Persian. A soft kind of felt carpet is also made in Persia, specially in Isphahan and Yezd. These are called Namads. The materials used are wools of all kinds, chiefly camel's hair. The colour is a light ochre shade of brown, and there is generally a pattern woven in the centre of different colours, red predominating. Some of these Namads are an inch or more in thickness, and are delightfully soft for walking on. They make a splendid foundation in a room for laying carpets on. There is yet another kind of rug much used, called the Galeem. These are much cheaper than carpets, and are suitable for rough use, such as travelling. They wash well, but do not improve with use as carpets do, having no pile. There are still shawl-manufactories to be seen in Kerman, though they are rapidly on the decrease. The best kind of shawl sells for fifty tumans (about £10) each, but there are others less expensive, which resemble the famous Cashmere shawls of India. These "shawls" are given as coats of honour by the governor or other high official, and are sought after and valued by all. They are woven in much the same manner as the carpets, and are made from the under hair of a special kind of white goat called "koork," which is only found in the neighbourhood of Kerman. The silks of Persia are very pretty and durable. They are woven principally at Yezd, Kashan, and Resht. The latter place is noted, too, for its patchwork and embroidery. This work consists of tiny pieces of cloth pieced together into some floral or other design. I had two or three pieces of this work given me by a Persian gentleman of high rank. One is a study in red, and the other consists chiefly of black and green, enlivened here and there by bright patches of other colours. Another rather interesting industry to be seen in Isphahan is the calico-printing; this is done by means of blocks, and, as a rule, one design covers the whole piece. These prints are used very much as curtains, table-cloths, &c., and have the advantage of being inexpensive. The natives often use them as shrouds for the dead, for which purpose special ones are manufactured, bearing suitable quotations from the Koran. During the summer in Isphahan the bed of the river may be seen covered with these prints, laid out to dry in the sun after having gone through the process of dyeing and "blocking." Space forbids my mentioning all the many other articles manufactured in Persia--the brass-work of Isphahan, copper-work of Kashan, silver of both Isphahan and Shiraz, mosaic also from Shiraz. But enough has been said to show that the Persians are a very clever and artistic race of people, and considering the primitiveness of their methods and implements, the results are astonishingly beautiful and charming. The agricultural industries of Persia, too, are considerable--the water supply necessary for these being a fruitful source of quarrelling and fighting, which sometimes leads even to murder. The labourers whose duty it is to look after the watering of the crops are armed with long spades, for the purpose of digging trenches and clearing a way for the water, &c. In a dispute these spades become very formidable weapons, and many a broken head have they caused. Often when riding in the desert we have met a company of these men returning from their labours, each carrying his murderous-looking implement on his shoulder, and in the gloaming they resembled an army of soldiers marching. The water supply is very often conducted into a town or village from the mountains by means of kanâts, or long underground passages. Pits are dug at a distance of about 25 feet apart, each one being connected with the other by a subterranean passage, and so on till the place is reached where the water is needed. Sometimes these tunnels extend for many miles, and as the mouth of each pit is surrounded by mounds of earth thrown up, it gives the appearance of a succession of huge mole-hills running across the country. Great loss of life is associated with the sinking of these shafts from the constant falling in of the sides; on this account very high wages are given to compensate for probable loss of life. One of the principal crops around Isphahan is that of the poppy. It is a beautiful sight to see field after field of these lovely white flowers, stretching away for miles, maybe. How sad to think that such beauty should lead to misery, wretchedness, and degradation! When the poppy is ripe, the "head" is scratched at sunset with a kind of comb in three places; from these gashes the opium oozes out. It is then collected in the morning before sunrise, dried, and rolled into cakes ready either for use in the country or for export. It is calculated that about 8000 cases of opium, each case containing some 200 cakes, are exported from Persia every year. Although the growth of opium enriches those directly concerned, yet it tends to impoverish the country; for the ground which before was cultivated with wheat and corn is now required for the poppy, thus making grain much dearer. There is also a large quantity of tobacco grown in Persia, which is used for the "kalian" (or water-pipe) and cigarette smoking. The best kind is grown in the neighbourhood of Shiraz. Wheat and barley are largely grown, and are always reaped with the sickle. The land is very fertile, and with very little trouble a good crop is obtained, provided the water supply is good. It has been said of Persia that "it is only necessary to tickle the land and it will laugh into blossom." CHAPTER IV THE CLIMATE OF PERSIA Resht, Teheran, Isphahan--Dryness of atmosphere--Cellars--Roof life--Children attacked by jackals--Chequered history of work in Kerman. "The climate's delicate, the air most sweet." Shakespeare. When speaking of the climate of Persia, Cyrus is supposed to have said, "People perish with cold at one point, while they are suffocated with heat at another," and this may be applied equally well to the climate of Persia to-day, for every town has a different climate according to its height above sea-level. When we land on Persian soil from the Caspian we find ourselves some feet below sea-level, consequently the climate is very damp, and vegetation is profuse. The rainfall in Resht is so great that the wells are often overflowing, rain falling during quite two-thirds of the year. Always having thought of Persia as a very dry, parched land, our surprise was very great on reaching Resht, the port on the Caspian, to see such lovely forests of trees, and flowers in abundance, both wild and cultivated. Primroses, anemones, periwinkles, cyclamen, and many other kinds of flowers, all were in bloom as we drove through Resht on our way to Isphahan. The ferns, too, were splendid, maiden-hair and ox-tongue being especially beautiful. With all these homelike flowers and ferns around us, we could hardly realise that we were not driving through some dear Devonshire lane in Old England. But as we mounted, higher and ever higher over the Elburz Mountains, we soon lost this English type of scenery. The climate became dry and warm, till by the time we reached Teheran we were thankful indeed for the shelter of the comfortable quarters of our American friends, who extended to us the most hospitable kindness during our stay in that city. The climate of Teheran is very good; its winters are pleasantly cold, and the summer heat is not so overpoweringly great as in other places. Then, too, there are lovely summer gardens near at hand, whither the residents can retire during the warm months of the year. And for those who love the mountain heights there is the beautiful and picturesque Mount Demavend, rising some 19,400 feet above sea-level. This mountain adds greatly to the beauty of Teheran, both as regards its scenery and climate. It stands as a sentinel guarding the valley in which Teheran lies, and has an ever-changing beauty of its own, with its eternal snows catching and reflecting all the radiant hues of the rising and setting sun. It also forms a most valuable health resort and summer retreat for all the heat-wearied ones of the neighbourhood. This is the highest mountain in Persia, but there are many others from 10,000 to 13,000 feet high, so, if necessary, a cool climate is to be found at all times of the year. Once over the Elburz, the whole of Persia is a high plateau land, till we descend once more to the shores of the Persian Gulf. Isphahan has a very pleasant climate; the winters are cold and bright, and it is possible to enjoy sitting out in the sunshine most of the winter months. The mornings and evenings are cold, but the days are delightful during the sunshine. The atmosphere here, as elsewhere in Persia, is very dry, and one's skin gets very cracked and "chapped," not from the cold, but from the dryness of the air. This is the cause, too, of much "nerve" trouble amongst the Europeans, especially, perhaps, with the ladies. In the winter the natives warm themselves and their rooms by means of a "korsi" (literally, a chair). This "korsi" is a contrivance for giving warmth at a minimum cost. A hole is dug in the floor of the room in which the whole family live. Into this hole is put a clay or iron firepan full of lighted charcoal: above this, the "korsi," a wooden frame varying in size according to the number of the family, is placed, and over all is spread a large "lahaf" or padded quilt. All round the "korsi" are placed soft mattresses and cushions, and here the family pass the time eating, sleeping, talking; the "korsi" acting as a dining-table and the "lahaf" as a covering by day and night. This arrangement is very unhealthy, but the natives love it, and the more friends and relations they can gather round the "korsi" the happier they are. The summers at Isphahan are rather warm, but there are many places near by, which are cool, pleasant, and within easy distance for those whose business keeps them in the vicinity of the town during the hot season. There is always plenty of ice to be had during the summer here--perhaps not always of the cleanest, but still good enough for the purpose of cooling fruits and drinks. The native method of making ice is rather clever. A "yakh khaneh" or ice-house is generally situated outside the town or near some running water: a trench is dug some two or three feet deep, and a wall from twenty to forty feet is built facing north and south, thus shielding the trench from all rays of the sun. As soon as frost sets in, an inch or two of water is let into the trench: this freezes during the night, and the next day more water is diverted into the hole, on top of the ice. This is repeated several days in succession, till about a foot or more of ice is formed. This is then broken up and stored in deep caverns or wells for use during the summer. The process is continued as long as the frost lasts, and thus there is generally enough to keep the town supplied with ice during the great heat. Well-to-do Persians have their own "yakh khanehs," and others use them for a means of livelihood. If the supply runs short before the hot season is over, frozen snow is brought from the mountains; but this is very expensive, as it has to be brought such a long distance. Yezd has a much warmer "hot season" than Isphahan, and the heat is much more trying and of longer duration. The houses are essentially summer houses. The winters being shorter and much less severe, little attention is paid to the comforts necessary for cold weather, but everything is considered which will add to the coolness and airiness of the houses. As a traveller approaches Yezd he cannot fail to be struck by the number of tall "chimneys" rising from the city, and he almost fancies he is approaching some large manufacturing town, and speculates perhaps as to the nature of the manufactures possible in such a sandy city of the desert. But as he draws nearer he sees there is no smoke rising from these "chimneys," and so concludes that, after all, they are not for manufacturing purposes. What, then, is the purpose of all those tall, square, chimney-like buildings, appearing from the roofs of nearly all the dwelling-places of Yezd? They are air shafts, built with the hope of bringing a little cool air into the houses during the hot season, when the atmosphere below is so stifling that it seems impossible to breathe. These structures are called "bâd geers," or "wind-catchers." There was a very large one connected with the house in which we lived in Yezd, and even on the hottest days, some air was always to be felt coming from the "bâd geer." It was so arranged in our house that after the air had been caught and brought down by means of the chimney, it passed over a "hoze" (tank of water), and in this way was cooled before circulating through the house. Another aid to bearing the heat in Yezd is the custom of spending the middle part of the day underground in cellars. Some of these cellars are quite palatial, the walls and floors being made from the famous Yezd marble, which closely resembles alabaster. One such I remember very well: it was a room about 40 feet by 30 feet, very lofty, and lit from the top by windows on a level with the ground above. In the centre of this room was a "hoze" (water tank), of which the Persians are so fond, and rising from the water was a fountain capable of playing to the height of 30 feet; a large bowl turned upside down had been fixed on the ceiling to catch the spray and prevent it from becoming damp. Here the inmates of the house took their mid-day siesta, and very charmingly cool it was compared to the upstairs world. Some cellars are not at all healthy, and, if slept in during the day, the sleepers are very liable to contract malaria or some other fever. When dry and well ventilated no harm seems to come from this custom of retiring underground during the great heat of the day, and certainly a good cellar is a great boon to a European, and a great blessing when the thermometer registers 110 in the shade upstairs, while in the cellar it rarely goes above 86 or 90 degrees. Scorpions, centipedes, tarantulas, and suchlike creatures have a good time in Yezd. The climate agrees with them, and they thrive and enjoy life to an alarming extent. One day my husband killed three scorpions within the hour, two of which were the poisonous black kind. Tarantulas abounded inside the house and out. They always seemed to make a point of running across my path during prayer times; to say the least it is very disconcerting to see one of these creatures glide softly past you with the evident intention of seeking shelter under your skirt! Our cat always used to make a dart directly he saw any of these tarantulas, just to draw our attention to them, but he would never kill one. From life in the cellar we pass to life on the roof. This was often the most enjoyable part of the day. It is lovely, when the heat of the day is over, to lie and watch the stars, knowing that the same stars were watching over our loved ones in the Homeland. Sleeping on the roof had its disadvantages as well as its attractions and advantages. One great disadvantage is the fact that the sun wakes you up so early; another, the talking and singing which goes on all round you from the adjoining roofs, often make it difficult to sleep. In addition there is this very serious drawback, that often the jackals visit the roofs of the houses at night, seeking for something wherewith to appease their hunger, and if they cannot find anything else to satisfy them will attack sleeping children. On several occasions poor little mites have been brought to the hospital terribly mutilated and torn by the jackals, some just slightly bitten on the face, others so mauled and eaten as to be quite unrecognisable. One especially sad case I remember; the poor mother was wild with grief, for her child, a baby of only a few weeks old, had been almost eaten up by these abominable creatures. Life on the roof begins soon after sunset. It is very interesting to watch, from a height, roof-life springing into existence. First one and then another will bring out the family bedding, spread it on the floor of the roof or on low wooden benches, and then sit and chat till dinner-time. Very often the evening meal is eaten on the roof, and shortly after the family retires to rest. A Moslem takes great pains to have his roof well shielded from the gaze of onlookers, and if he is at all suspicious that he is overlooked he will immediately raise his wall. This being the case, the roofs in a Moslem quarter are generally very much shut in by high walls, which keep out the air and make the nights much less bearable. The climate of Kerman is almost perfect for those who can stand it. Situated about 6500 feet above the sea, surrounded on all sides by mountains and deserts, the result is a delightful bracing air and invigorating climate. In Kerman there is no need of resting in cellars by day or sleeping on roofs by night. Indeed the climate would be hard to beat anywhere. The winters are charming, bright and cold, with snow-covered mountains always in view. For a month or two in the summer it becomes fairly hot, when flies and mosquitoes nearly drive one wild, but it is generally possible to get away for a little time, and during the remainder of the year the climate is all that could be desired. And yet it seems strange that in spite of all this Europeans have found it difficult to live there. Our mission in its infancy had a very chequered career, owing to the breaking down in health of its missionaries. The first to open the work there was a Mr. Carless, a clergyman of the Church of England. He went there a young man in the vigour of youth, and at the end of three years, having gained the love and admiration of Moslem and Parsee alike, he was laid in a solitary grave away in the desert, in a valley surrounded by hills. After a short time his work was taken up by a Mr. and Mrs. Blackett, but the latter was able to remain only a few short months, at the end of which time she returned to England, broken down and shattered in health. Then my husband was appointed to open Medical Mission work there. Unfortunately, before the year was out, we too had to leave, this time on account of my health. During our stay there an English engineer came to seek for artesian wells. After two or three months he contracted fever and died at our house, and he too is resting in that quiet spot amongst the mountains by the side of Mr. Carless. On our leaving, another doctor was appointed to take my husband's post, but his stay in Kerman was not even as long as ours had been. And so it seemed as if the work there could not be carried on, but fortunately this chapter of accidents has now come to an end, for our missionaries have been living and working there for some three or four years. All agree, too, in saying that the climate is a very healthy one, provided the people living there have sound hearts! CHAPTER V HOLIDAYS IN PERSIA How to ensure a prosperous journey--Natanz--Astonishment of natives at sight of hairpins--Pulivagoon--Mahoon--Aliabâd--Prince under canvas--Visit from a Persian princess--A Persian deer-hunt. "If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work." Shakespeare. In a climate such as has been described in the foregoing chapter, it is necessary for the sake of health to get away during a part of the hot season. Fortunately there are suitable places near at hand to each of the large cities, so it is no very difficult matter to get away for a few weeks. The difficulties lie rather in reaching these places, and in transporting all one's belongings--at least all those that are absolutely necessary--to the place chosen. After having decided upon the desirability of having a holiday, the next thing is to fix a day of departure. This sounds easy to say. Yes, it is quite a simple matter for you to say, "We will start on such and such a day," but you are perhaps reckoning without considering your muleteer. On the morning appointed you rise early, see that everything is in readiness, and then sit down to wait for the baggage animals to arrive. Time goes on, the sun begins to get hot, and no sign of the muleteer or mules, so by-and-by you send your servant to investigate matters, and he brings back with him the muleteer, who smiles sweetly and says, "Ensha'allah farda (to-morrow, God willing) we will start on our journey." His mules have gone to a village, and will be back "ensha'allah farda." We can console ourselves that very likely the same thing will occur again on the next day. It is always "farda" with these people, so we must try to possess our souls in patience, and hope for the best. Persians are never in a hurry, and cannot understand why it should make any difference whether we start "to-day" or "to-morrow." Oh, those endless "fardas"! how tired we got of them before we had been very long in the land. But it is good to learn patience, and the sooner you have mastered this lesson well, the happier will you be living in the East. Preparing for a holiday in Persia is rather a different matter to starting off at home for the seaside or elsewhere. Everything has to be taken--pots and pans, tables, chairs, beds and bedding--in fact, everything that is necessary for four or five weeks' stay in a house where nothing is provided but the bare walls. It is wonderful what a number of things are necessary even for a short stay, in the so-called simple life. The natives are very superstitious about many things when starting on a journey. For instance, it is very unlucky, in their eyes, to proceed if any of the party happens to sneeze on the point of starting. They would much rather postpone the start for a more propitious occasion, than disregard this bad omen. I heard of one man who insisted on continuing his journey in spite of the warning given in the form of a sneeze, and the consequence was he fell off his mule and broke his leg! The natives also are careful to have a good supply of copper coins ready when starting on a journey, to give to the beggars. Whenever we left home our servants always distributed freely to the poor who were living around, to ensure a blessing on our journey, but they never forgot to put the amount down in the daily account! While in Persia we had some very enjoyable holidays, but as I could not endure the altitude we were never able to go to the mountains, which of course make the ideal summer resorts. However, we managed to find some very pretty and fairly cool places in the plains or on slightly elevated ground. Our first holiday in Persia was spent in a very pretty little village called Natanz. I had been taken ill on our way to Isphahan, and the lady doctor who came out to meet us suggested our going for a week or so to this little village before entering Isphahan. Spring was already well advanced, and it is difficult to recruit in the hot season. Natanz is a picturesque little village, slightly off the general route, so that the natives had not then become very much used to Feringhis staying with them, and our coming caused no little excitement. We arrived there about twelve o'clock one night, and were conducted to our room by an admiring throng, and this throng continued to "admire" for the whole time we were there. The windows of our room were composed of lattice work only, so all interested could always have a good view of our movements. On waking in the morning there were our faithful followers to be seen with their faces flattened against the trellis work, waiting for us to wake, and see what we were going to do next! At times this interest shown on the part of the inhabitants was a trifle embarrassing, but as often as they were driven away by our servant just as often did they return again whenever his back was turned. For the first day or two I did not leave the room, but when I felt stronger I used to sit in a chair outside the window reading or writing. The moment my husband left me the women all swarmed round like bees, full of curious questions. Unfortunately at that time I was not able to talk to them, not knowing the language, but I could make out what they were saying to a great extent from their gestures. My fountain pen was a cause of great amusement and astonishment, as were also my hairpins. The delight of some of the women on being presented with a hairpin was very funny. They seemed to think I stuck them into my head, as into a pincushion. At first the women were rather shy, as they could not be quite sure whether I was a man or a woman, but one of them came and peeped under my hat and seeing I had long hair concluded I was a woman. My husband received a visit from the governor of the village, who was very delighted to see an English hakeem. We were quite sorry when our little holiday in Natanz was over, but being anxious to push on to Isphahan, did not care to prolong our stay longer than was necessary. Our next holiday was in the summer of the same year 1900. This time we went only a few hours' drive out of Isphahan to a place called Pulivagoon. It was a very pretty little village, and a nice house, belonging to the Zil es Sultan, had been lent to us for a month. The house was built practically on the river, as our windows hung right over the water, and the sound of its rushing torrent reminded us of the lapping of the waves on the seashore in dear Old England. There were some lovely woods near by, to which we often used to take our tea, and pass the time pleasantly paddling, bathing, and fishing in the river. The following year we were at Kerman, and went for our holidays to a lovely garden about nine hours' ride from the city. Mahoon lies very high; it must be at least 6700 feet above sea-level. The climate is beautiful, but the altitude proved too high for me to enjoy it much. We had a very tiring ride from Kerman; starting one day soon after noon we rode for three or four hours, then had a refreshing cup of tea under the shadow of a large spreading tree. But we could not afford to linger, for we still had a good half of our journey before us, so once more we mounted our respective steeds, hoping to reach our destination about nine o'clock, but alas for our hopes! Nine o'clock came and went, and still we seemed no nearer; ten o'clock, and still no sign of our village. It was now pitch dark, and we were all very tired and hungry, and I was so dead beat that I could hardly sit upright on my animal. My husband rode close by my side, to be in readiness in case I should fall off in my sleep. To the oft-repeated question, "How much farther?" the answer always came, "Ensha'allah--only half-an-hour." Oh, those half-hours, how wearisome they became! I did so wish that they would say two hours or three hours for a change, for the everlasting half-hour was so tantalising. Our servants told me afterwards that they said this to keep up my spirits, as they thought, if they told the truth about the distance, "the Khanum's heart would melt within her." At last, just after midnight, we heard a very energetic coo-ing ahead of us, and knew that at last we were within sound of rest and food. It was so dark that we could not find the path leading to the garden, and our animals went floundering about over great boulders of stones or stumbling into ditches, and of course all in the wrong direction, till some one met us and conducted our tired party into the house. Here we found that our baggage animals, with Bagi and the other servants, had not yet turned up, though they had started an hour or two before us. They did not arrive till morning, so there was nothing for it but to lie down on bare boards and go to sleep supperless. The only drinking vessel to be found was a saucepan, from which we had a most refreshing drink of water and retired to our luxurious couch, sleeping as well and as soundly as if we were lying on beds of softest down. We were awakened about eight o'clock next morning by the sound of bells, and knew that our belated caravan had come in. While they were settling disputes and unpacking we strolled off into the garden to dip our faces into the cool water that was flowing through the grounds. It was, or rather had been, a magnificent garden, but, like everything else in Persia, was even then fast falling into decay. There was water in abundance, flowing on both sides, and fountains playing on the top terrace and also at the foot of the garden. The whole garden was built in a series of terraces, and steps led from one level to the next. The houses and gardens had been built by H.H. Farman Farma, at one time governor of Kerman, and must have cost a great deal of money. We took up our quarters in the house at the top of the garden, and after a few days our consul came out from Kerman and occupied the lower one. We spent a very enjoyable month here, riding, shooting, bathing, &c. My husband opened a dispensary for the villagers, to which he went two mornings each week, and the people appreciated this very much, as I do not think they had ever had an English doctor amongst them before. We much enjoyed the use of the Persian "hammam" (bath) while there. It comprised a series of rooms built a little way off from the house; each room was built of marble and blue tiles. The first or outer room was simply for resting in, having a fountain in the centre; passing through this, you entered a large vaulted room, which was used for a dressing-room and "cooling-down" place; from this you passed to the actual hammam, which was a large tank of water about 15 feet by 10 feet, and from 1 to 6 feet deep, shelving gradually in depth from the edge. This had not been used for some years apparently, but my husband had it cleaned out and filled with fresh water, and we were very thankful for it during the hot weather. At first we tried taking our afternoon siesta in the outer or resting-room, but found it too feverish; however, we were able to sit in it during the early part of the day, and generally had our Persian lesson there, as it was easier to work in the cool. We always made our holidays a time for language study, as my husband rarely could find time for it while at work in the city, and we both longed to be able to speak Persian properly. I must say the natives were always wonderfully good and patient over our mistakes, and never laughed, however terrible and feeble our attempts at conversation might be. Unfortunately, just as we were beginning to feel our way in Persian a little, we had to start learning a new language, so to a great extent we have forgotten our Persian. Our last holiday in Persia was spent in Aliabâd, a dear little village about ten hours' drive from Yezd. H.R.H. the Jalal el Dowleh (nephew of the late Shah) kindly lent us a house there, and as it was rather a small one, he erected a large tent in the garden for us, which did duty as dining and sitting-room combined. The Jalal also kindly lent us one of his carriages to drive from Yezd to Aliabâd. The first part of the way the road was very good. We left Yezd just before sunset, reaching our half-way place shortly before midnight. Here we had to rest the horses till morning, so we spent the night in a garden by permission of the owner. Spreading a rug on the ground, and using two of the carriage cushions as pillows, we spent a very comfortable night, and awoke in the early morning fresh and ready for the second part of our journey. We were off before sunrise, as we wished to reach our destination before the great heat of the day began. I shall never forget that drive. For the greater part of the way there was not even a semblance of a road, and the whole path was strewn with huge stones and boulders; it was a marvel to me how the carriage ever got safely over them. But oh, the jolting and the shaking! Driving up the Pyramids would be smooth and easy compared to the horrors of that road! We repented often of having accepted the kind offer of the carriage, as the saddle is much more preferable on such roads. However, all things come to an end to those who have patience; so at last this memorable drive ended, and we were very thankful, about ten o'clock, to see the trees of our village rising on the horizon. We found the little house very comfortably arranged and breakfast waiting for us in the tent, as our servants had pushed on instead of resting during the night. Aliabâd contained, I suppose, some fifty houses, all of which were occupied by Moslems of rather a fanatical type. It was surrounded on all sides by mountains and hills, and this gave it a rather shut-in feeling at times. After sunset, too, it was very chilly and damp, as there were so many gardens lying under water at that time, this being the usual method of irrigation. I wanted to make the acquaintance of the village women, so I let it be known that I should generally be in the garden during the morning, and should welcome all who came to see me. In this way I saw most of the women, but they were not very responsive on the whole. It was here, sitting in the garden one morning, that I tried to learn from them how to "tell the beads" according to the Moslem method, but I found it too intricate and difficult. I managed, however, to master one very simple method of trying the beads for good or ill fortune. This was as follows: holding the rosary before you in both hands, you separate a certain number of the beads; then, closing your eyes, you "tell" them, repeating the mystic words "Adam, Eve, Satan," until the last bead is reached. If this happens to be "Adam," the luck is sure to be of the best; if "Eve," the result is neutral, and the beads must be counted again; while "Satan" indicates the worst of fortune, and would absolutely prevent any one from undertaking any contemplated action. It was no uncommon sight to see the women counting their beads and mumbling to themselves, "Adam, Hava, Shaitan (Adam, Eve, Satan), Adam, Hava, Shaitan," before making up their minds as to whether they should drink their medicine or not. Or perhaps some patient has been advised an operation, and he is trying his beads to see whether the doctor's advice is to be taken or not. It is a strange thing that, when they very badly want to do a thing, they can generally make it come to "Adam," or else they keep on repeating the words till it does come to the lucky name, and then they are happy. When we had been in Aliabâd some days the prince-governor of Yezd brought his "anderoon" to the same village. Of course there was no accommodation for them in the village, so they erected a town for themselves. It sprang up in one night, and looked in the morning as if a large company of soldiers had suddenly come along and fixed their camp. The ladies' quarters consisted of about twenty large tents, and were enclosed by a huge canvas wall, quite shutting them off from the outside world. The prince had his reception tents and others outside the wall, but quite near to it. A day or two after their arrival the princess sent down her carriage for me, with a request that I would go and see her, which I gladly did, and found her surrounded by all her home comforts, and dressed, as usual, in some lovely silk costume. After this she always sent for me about three times a week, and we had walks and talks together. Whenever we came to a garden, she and her ladies always gathered the cucumbers and onions and ate them, thoroughly enjoying the impromptu picnic, and never giving a thought to the poor unfortunate owner, who dared not voice a remonstrance, however much his garden was stripped of its produce. A eunuch or two always went before when the princess walked out, to warn off any of the dreaded menkind who happened to be about. One day the prince gave permission for his wife to come and call upon me. This was the first time she had ever been allowed to pay a visit. I was sorry we were not in our own house, as I should have liked to show her an English home. However, we made the place as tidy and home-like as possible for her reception. My husband had to be banished, and also all the men-servants. Bagi (our woman servant) prepared all the refreshments, but the princess's own servants handed them to her, as Bagi was a Parsee, and it would have meant defilement for a Moslem to take food from a despised follower of Zoroaster. The prince spent most of his time hunting, and my husband went with him on several occasions. The sport did not seem to be very exciting, from all accounts. The Jalal would take with him about thirty to forty of his followers, and form a kind of cordon round the spot where the gazelles were known to be; they then gradually closed in, each rider knowing and keeping his own position. At last the gazelles would be sighted, and all would gallop madly towards the spot, and shoot as they got within range. We were kept so well supplied with venison during those holidays that I felt I never wanted to taste it again! Quite near to Aliabâd there were some large caves in which the natives had stored frozen snow, so that even in the height of summer we were able to have a large block of ice every day. Altogether our time at this little village was very enjoyable, and we were quite sorry when our holiday was over and we had to return to the broiling heat of Yezd. CHAPTER VI SOCIAL LIFE IN PERSIA Kerman--House-hunting and building--White ants--Housekeeping in Kerman--Servant question--Truth v. falsehood--Abdul Fateh--Bagi--Recreations--Some exciting rides--Persian etiquette--Dinner at the governor's. "Society is no comfort to one not sociable." Shakespeare. The social life of Europeans in Persia differs very much according to the town lived in. In some parts much life and gaiety are to be found, and in others this element is conspicuous by its absence. In Teheran, where we have our Legation, of course social life is at its height. At Isphahan, too, there is quite a large European community. When we were there in 1900 and 1903 there must have been at least fifty Europeans, and very happily and sociably all lived together. From Isphahan we went to Kerman, where for some five or six months we were the only foreigners, but in spite of having none of our own countrymen to call upon or visit, we were very happy. After a time a British consul was appointed, and we felt quite gay, and I at once started a European "at home" day, and every Wednesday our consul was a most regular visitor. He was always very homesick, and liked anything that helped to remind him of dear Old England. On one occasion we actually mustered four Englishmen to dinner, as two travellers happened to be passing through at the same time, one of whom was Mr. Savage Landor, who entertained us with most harrowing accounts of his time amongst the Thibetans. Just before we left two English ladies arrived, so the social life at Kerman began to grow, and to-day it boasts of quite a number of Europeans, consisting of consuls of various nations, as well as missionaries, bank and telegraph employees. When we arrived at Kerman we found great difficulty in choosing and leasing a house. Many were only too anxious to show us their houses, and to assure us that all their property belonged to us, to do what we liked with; but when it came to making definite arrangements it was quite a different matter. So long as it was only "talk" the various would-be landlords were willing to promise everything and anything, but it was quite another question when suggestions were made as to the desirability of committing those promises to paper. At last we settled on a house outside the town, which possessed a nice large garden, but the house itself only consisted of about two rooms, and these were in a very tumble-down and filthy condition. The landlord (a Parsee) promised to build according to our plans, and to spend the whole of the first three years' rent in making improvements and additions to the house. The consequence of this delightful arrangement was that during the greater part of our time in Kerman building operations were going on, and only just as we were leaving was the work completed and the house made inhabitable. But in the end a very fairly comfortable house was built, and has been occupied ever since, I believe, by our C.M.S. missionaries. Our garden was very large, but only half of it had been cultivated; the further end we had hoped to have made into a tennis court, but unfortunately we had to leave before it was possible to do so. All the bricks used for building were made from the earth of the garden. The process is simplicity itself. Water is mixed with the earth till it becomes a thick mud, then it is stamped into the required shape by means of a wooden block, and then left in the sun to dry. Sometimes straw is mixed with the mud, when it is necessary to have very strong bricks. Directly we moved into our house I found to my horror that it was infested with white ants. This was my first experience of these wretched little creatures, and I hope it may be my last. They are disturbers of one's peace of mind, for once they are settled in a house it is impossible to get rid of them, and the only thing to hope for is that by continually waging war against them you may keep them slightly in subjection. I remember so well the day I first made the acquaintance of these noxious things. I had with much difficulty succeeded in finishing our drawing-room, and considering all things I may be forgiven if I confess to having felt a certain amount of pride as I looked at the result of my labours. Certainly it was not too luxurious; but it was comfortable and "homey." Alas! my pride soon had a fall. After a day or two my husband had need of some book, and upon taking it from the shelf found it eaten half through! I then began to hunt about, and found the room was swarming with these abominations, under the carpets, behind the pictures, cosily ensconced in books--everywhere they were having a right royal time. From that moment almost to the day we left, I never ceased to hunt and destroy these ubiquitous ants. We were having two new rooms built, and I said to my husband, "One comfort is that the ants cannot be in the new rooms;" but, alas, my hopes were vain! The builders had used an old piece of wood for a beam on which the ceiling rested, and this was infested with white ants, and so in a very short time they had that room, too, to revel in. I tried all manner of things to get rid of them, but found the most successful remedy was pouring petroleum down the holes from which they came. This drove them away from that hole, but they only burrowed a little further, seeking for a new outlet. Nothing could or can destroy them. As long as the queen ant remains they can never be exterminated. An English engineer who came to Kerman told me that, when he was living in India, he was building a house, and before he laid the foundations he offered large rewards for all queen ants found in the grounds near, for, said he, "This is the only way to ensure freedom from these pests." He also told me that one night he left his evening shoes out in his room, and in the morning the leather was eaten half away. I can quite believe this now, after having seen for myself their tremendous digestive powers. One of our missionaries had to leave Kerman quite suddenly while we were there. Before leaving he packed all his most valued books into tin-lined cases and had them soldered down, thinking they would be safe against the intrusions of white ants. Shortly after his departure we suspected these wretches of being at work amongst the books, and so came to the conclusion we had better open and see. There, sure enough, they were, and busily they had been engaged too, for like "Mother Hubbard who went to the cupboard," when we went to the box we found it bare! if not quite, almost so; for, with the exception of a few stout leather covers, all trace of Mr. Blackett's valuable library was gone! Such are the literary instincts of white ants. But indeed nothing comes amiss to their tastes--books, boots, pictures, carpets, clothes, papers--all vanish under the business-like efforts of these horrible creatures. What with white ants and bad servants to contend and combat with, housekeeping in Kerman was enough to turn one's hair grey! The struggle was unequal, and I generally got the worst of it. To begin with, the servants we had brought with us from Isphahan refused to stay in such an out-of-the-world spot as Kerman, so no sooner had we begun to unpack than first one and then another declared his intention of going, until we were left stranded. Then began the joys of servant-hunting. In some parts of Persia this is not a difficult task, but in Kerman it was practically impossible to find a decent servant, or one that knew anything about his work. The chief drawback to Kerman domestics is the fact that they are all opium-smokers. The native saying in Kerman is, "That every fourth man out of three" is an opium-smoker. Although this may be a slight exaggeration, yet it was decidedly hard to find any one who was not addicted to this terrible habit. Awful specimens presented themselves as "cooks," but one look at them was enough! At last a veritable "Uriah Heep" offered his valuable services to us; he came armed with wonderful credentials and menu cards. These latter he claimed to have successfully negotiated when in the employ of some Frenchman, but I have grave doubts as to the veracity of this statement. On the strength of these menus we thought we could not do better than engage him; so he came, and proved himself to be a most aggravating specimen of humanity, specially formed, I believe, to try the patience and tempers of poor unsuspecting foreigners. Nothing ever put him out or ruffled his sweet amiability. How I wished it would, and that he would depart in wrath and anger at my repeated complaints against him! But no, nothing of the kind; he came to stay, and stay he did, till he bade us an affectionate and touching farewell on our departure from Kerman. His money accounts were always atrociously high, but so cleverly did he manage them that I could rarely detect him cheating, and at last I gave it up as a hopeless task, concluding the game was not worth the candle. When we were alone his cooking was passable--at least it was generally eatable; but if ever we had friends to dinner he always managed to surpass himself with some act of stupidity or wickedness, I never could make out which it was. On one occasion the English consul and one or two others were dining with us. We had safely reached the "sweet" stage, and I was just beginning to congratulate myself that this time, at any rate, our lovely cook was not going to disgrace himself or play any trick. Just then a "chocolate cream" was handed round. It looked all right. The consul took some, tasted it, and promptly laid down his fork; his example was followed by others. I hastily called the "boy" to bring me some, and on tasting it found to my horror that the chocolate cream was highly flavoured with naphthalene! We had lately received a box from home; in it was some of this useful stuff for destroying moths; doubtless the cook thought it was a nice and specially delicate flavouring for puddings! On another occasion I had been experimenting on some dessert dish, which necessitated part of the ingredients soaking for an hour or two over a slow fire. I put everything ready, and left strict injunctions with "Uriah" that he was to touch nothing, and so I left. Shortly after, feeling rather uneasy as to the welfare of my concoction, I returned to the kitchen, just in time to see the wretched man pouring my "Dream of Delight" down the sink! I confess to having been guilty then for the first and last time of boxing a servant's ears; but really was the provocation not great? Another of our "treasures" was a man called Neamat 'allah. He was a splendid "show man," but no good for work of any kind. He shone when visitors came, as he felt the dignity of his Sahib depended in a great measure on him. Then there was an awful boy, Rustem. I did my best to make him into a decent parlour-maid, but utterly failed. Although only about eighteen years of age, he was a confirmed slave to the opium habit. His chief forte was smashing crockery and telling lies. Of course we never expected our servants to speak the truth, but this boy seemed the most incorrigible of all. One day he said to me, after I had been trying to instil into his mind some idea as to why we should speak the truth, "Well, Khanum, what is the use of my speaking the truth, for if I did you would not believe me, and would only say it was a lie?" This is true, I am afraid, to a great extent, for after being deceived so often one gets sceptical about the possibility of a native speaking the truth, especially if he is an opium-smoker too. And yet sometimes they look at you so innocently, with such an air of injured righteousness, that you begin to wonder if after all they are not for once speaking the truth; but, alas, the wonder soon passes! Shortly before leaving Kerman we were fortunate enough to secure the services of a real treasure in the person of an Indian. He came to Kerman with his master, Mr. Patrick Duncan, whose object was to sink artesian wells, but unfortunately he died before his work was completed. His man, Abdul Fateh, was heartbroken at the death of his master, as he had been with him for many years. He begged my husband to engage him, and very gladly we did so, and he proved a great comfort to us all our time in Persia, acting as "pishkhedmat" (chief servant), not only being good and honest himself, but keeping the others up to their work, and not allowing them to cheat us too much. Before leaving the subject of servants I must say just a word about our woman servant; she was such a dear little body--a Parsee. We called her Bagi, which means a female servant. She had been with Miss Sykes for a time, so knew a little about Feringhi ways. She was a picturesque figure, waddling about the house in her big baggy trousers and her gaily coloured overall reaching to her knees, while on her head she wore the usual number of coverings, in compliance with the Zoroastrian idea that a woman's head must be well covered! It is a great "shame" for a Parsee woman to be seen with her head uncovered. One day Bagi had been washing her hair, and the doctor happened to see her in passing before she had replaced her many coverings. She came to me in great distress to know what was she to do. The Sahib had seen her with her head uncovered! The recreations of Kerman are confined almost entirely to horse riding. There are many very good picnic places near by, and an excellent stretch of desert for a canter or gallop, but not so good as the desert outside Yezd. When we first went to Kerman I was told that I must on no account ride through the bazaars, as no Englishwoman had ever been seen in them. I might ride outside the town and view the bazaars from a safe distance, but this did not fall in with my ideas at all, and as soon as we were fairly settled down in our house I asked my husband to take me to see the bazaars. So one afternoon we started off to try the experiment, taking with us two servants, one to walk in front and one behind, my husband and I riding our horses. I will not say that as we entered the dark, dreary-looking archways leading to the bazaars my heart did not beat a little faster than usual, as I thought of all the horrible things which had been told me as to what might happen when first an Englishwoman was seen in the open bazaar. After a few minutes, however, I saw there was nothing to fear, for beyond a good stare and a few curses from some of the people, nothing happened. I had, of course, taken the precaution of wearing a thick veil. My second ride through these same bazaars was much more exciting. It was during the time of the Passion Play in the month of Mohurram, referred to in another chapter. As we were riding quietly along we suddenly came across the whole company of excited, maddened creatures returning to their homes after the play was over. The crowd was headed by about a hundred men, whose garments were streaming with blood, their heads and faces covered with gashes of all sorts and sizes. In their hands they held and waved frantically their swords or daggers. Our servants were fearfully alarmed, and hurriedly turned our horses' heads into a narrow passage, and hoped the crowd would not notice us. But unfortunately they did, and with a wild cry of "Feringhi! Feringhi!" they immediately formed up just in front of the opening to our passage and began their wild dance for our benefit. It was rather a gruesome sight in the dimly-lighted bazaars to see a hundred or more naked swords flashing, blood on everything and everybody, men yelling, shouting, cursing, and dancing. We were not sorry when in a few minutes they took it into their heads to move on, thinking, no doubt, that they had paid great honour to the Feringhis by this exhibition for their special benefit. After this experience I felt there certainly was no longer any need for fear, and since then we have all ridden and walked quite freely in and through the bazaars. Only once was I spat upon in Persia, and that was in Yezd. Persians have often been called the Frenchmen of the East. They certainly are a most courteous and polite people, outwardly at all events, and are masters in the art of paying compliments to one another. But to a novice it is no light matter to know just the right amount of flattery to deal out, as it is almost as bad a mistake to give any one a great deal too much flattery as not to give him enough. The art lies in knowing just what is due to each person, according to the rank of life he occupies. When you wish to visit any one it is not polite to send word to say, "I am coming." You must couch your message in much more flowery language, such as, "I want to honour myself by coming to see your nobleness." The answer will be "Bis'millah--Please bring your tashrif (dignity)." There is great etiquette, too, over the kalian-smoking and tea-drinking, each one deprecatingly suggesting that his neighbour should partake first and the other declining the honour with a sweeping bow; but every one knows who is entitled to the first whiff of the kalian or the first cup of tea, and no one would dare to think of defrauding him of his right. It seems such a pity that Persians of high class are gradually falling into European ways, for they do not suit these Frenchmen of the East half so well as their own manners and customs. While we were in Kerman the governor was one who had lived in Europe a good deal, and liked everything done à la Feringhi; he much enjoyed English afternoon teas, home-made cakes, &c. Soon after our arrival there an invitation came from the governor for dinner the following week. On the evening appointed a carriage came for us and drove us to the "Arg," as the house of the governor is called. We found a splendid dinner waiting for us, served in French style, about twenty courses of excellently cooked dishes. After dinner we were amused by Persian musicians and singers. We were entertained by the nephew of the governor, who apologised for the absence of his uncle, who, he said, was suffering from a bad attack of fever which prevented his presiding at the table. We heard afterwards that the real reason of his non-appearance was not fever, but a fear of being laughed at. He knew how things ought to be done according to European fashion, and was afraid that he had not all the necessaries to carry out a dinner successfully, and so preferred not to show himself. However, when he saw how splendidly the first dinner-party went off he decided to give another, so in about a week's time we received a second invitation to dinner. This time the governor himself took the head of the table, and did the honours of it well, too. He certainly had nothing to be ashamed of, for everything was served in perfect French style. From the soup to the dessert, with all the intermediary courses, everything was dished up in perfect taste and on good china. The glass and table decorations would not have disgraced a European table. The Governor of Yezd, on the other hand, preferred to hold more to his own traditions, and I have much enjoyed a meal there with his family, served and eaten in true Persian style. CHAPTER VII THE WOMEN OF PERSIA Home life--Anderoon, women's quarters--Jealousy in the anderoon--Anderoon of Khan Baba Khan--Two days in an anderoon--H.R.H. Princess Hamadané Sultané--Visit to the anderoon of H.R.H. the Zil-es-Sultan. "The more your prayers to me, the more will your wives be in Paradise." From Life of Al-Jazuli. "Women are weak, as you say, and love of all things to be passive, Passive, patient, receptive, yea, even of wrong and misdoing, Even to force and misdoing, with joy and victorious feeling, Patient, passive, receptive; for that is the strength of their being, Like to the earth taking all things and all to good converting." A. H. Clough. Whilst in Persia I had a good many opportunities of becoming well acquainted with some of the Moslem women, especially in Kerman, as there I was for some time the only Englishwoman, and naturally the women liked to see as much of me as possible, in order to see and hear about life amongst the Feringhis. The Persian women are much more volatile and genial than their Arab sisters, but on the whole I prefer the latter, perhaps because I have had so much more to do with them. The Persian lady is ready, the moment she sees you, to shower compliments upon you and to tell you how much she loves you, while her more austere sister of Arabia takes time to consider whether you are a person to be trusted or not; and if after a time she does give you her love, it is something worth the having. When I first went to Persia I found the questions of the women most disconcerting, but after a time, if their conversation became too objectionable, I always told them it was not our custom to talk on such subjects, and they generally took the hint, at any rate for the time being. When in Kerman I started an "At Home" for Moslem ladies, and in this way I got to know some of them very well, and also by visiting them in their homes. They quite liked the idea of an "At Home" day, and I well remember our first one. About twenty ladies came, each one attended by a slave or two and a small boy to guard their shoes, which of course they left at the door. It was quite a business unrobing all these ladies from their black silk "chuddars," and arranging each lady in her respective place, according to the honour due to her. We had in our drawing-room a long divan, about 12 feet by 6, occupying the whole of one end of the room, and cushioned according to Eastern ideas. On this about twelve of the ladies seated themselves and looked very comfortable and at ease, while the rest sat on chairs arranged round the room, and looked most uncomfortable and uneasy. By-and-by I noticed first one foot being tucked up and then another, till most of the ladies were sitting native fashion on their chairs, and it looked so curious I could hardly keep from smiling. After all were settled, and their chuddars and veils carefully folded up and put aside by the slaves, then the kalian or water-pipe was brought in, each slave preparing the pipe for her own mistress. I had arranged that my woman-servant, Bagi, should hand round tea, but the ladies were horrified at the idea of taking tea which had been poured out by a Parsee, as they believed it would make them unclean for I don't know how long; so my poor Bagi had to take a back seat and see others take her place. My next "At Home" day I was wiser, and secured the services of the mother of our syce, who was a Moslem, as I did not like to see a strange woman doing the honours of the tea-table. Amongst the ladies that day was the wife of one of the ex-governors of Kerman, and the good lady did not let any one forget that fact! They were always most interested in seeing and hearing all about Feringhi life, and were specially interested in photographs and pictures. One lady said to me directly she was seated, "I want to see a picture of Jesus Christ;" and on my showing her one, she most reverently kissed it and put it to her forehead. They much enjoyed listening to our little organ, and one lady was so delighted that she gave her husband no peace till he bought her one, and then nothing would satisfy her but I must go and teach her how to play. As her instrument arrived from Teheran with half its notes missing, it is easy to imagine that her musical talent (?) was somewhat put to the test. However, she was very proud of her instrument, and quite happy playing with one finger an accompaniment to some weird Persian song. Of "home life" in Persia there is none; there is no word in their language for "home," and so it plays no part in their lives. Life in the home varies very much according to the rank of the husband. The poorer wives and village women are blessed by being obliged to work, but the better class have absolutely nothing to do, from morning till night, but smoke, drink tea, and talk scandal. The poorer wife is certainly the better off of the two, for she has to rise early in the morning to get her husband his early cup of tea before he goes off to work; then she has the house to look after and the children to think of and sew for; and last, but not least, the evening meal of pillau or kabob to cook ere her lord and master returns from his labours; while her less fortunate neighbour has nothing to do but to talk of the latest scandal of the anderoon, and then to pay a visit to another anderoon to tell and receive the latest news there. The anderoon is that part of the house which is given up to the women, and is as a rule the best part of the house, for there the men of the house retire when their work is done, to be waited on and fussed over by the womenfolk. When a man is well off and has more than one wife, he generally keeps them in separate compounds; but often two will be living together in the same anderoon, and as a rule they do not love each other very much. The great and chief causes of jealousy in the anderoon are the children, or rather lack of children. For instance, a young bride is brought to her husband's house, and for a time she is the pet and favourite of her husband, and all is well; but if as time passes no child comes to cheer her heart, then the husband soon tires of his new plaything and looks about for a new and prettier one, till one sad day the poor young wife hears that her husband is about to bring home another to share her life and home. We can imagine what rage and jealousy will burn in her heart, and how she will hate the new inmate of the anderoon, and especially if after a time her enemy becomes the mother of a boy. Then her hatred reaches a climax, and it is by no means uncommon for her to have recourse to the "cup of coffee" either for herself or her enemy. That "cup of coffee" is a most useful (?) institution in Persia, as it is often very difficult to detect the poison hidden therein. It is impossible for us even to think of the miseries through which some of these poor women pass; and if we see how unhappiness and wretchedness is fostered in an anderoon containing two wives, how much more miserable and awful must be the life when the number of wives is multiplied by two or even more. But while there are many unhappy anderoons, yet as "the exception proves the rule" in most cases so it does here. For I remember one home in which two wives were living in apparent peace and happiness; but here, again, there was reason for their unity, as neither of them had any children, and so there was no cause for jealousy. Their husband was an aristocratic old man of about seventy years of age, and he had taken these two young wives to cheer his old age. He had a little son by one of his many former wives, of whom he was passionately fond, and this boy was very ill for some months, suffering from heart disease. His two young wives nursed this boy day and night in a most devoted manner, and apparently really loved the boy, and were very sorry when he died. It was owing to this boy's illness that we had the opportunity of spending two days in the anderoon of Khan Baba Khan, and very pleasant and interesting days they were too. It was the year that we were in Kerman, and we had just gone away for our summer holiday to that lovely garden of Mahoon, when one day a very urgent messenger came to my husband from Khan Baba Khan begging him to go and see his boy, who was very ill. The old man had sent his carriage for us, with instructions to his man to drive the doctor straight to his garden, situated some sixteen miles on the other side of Kerman, where the boy had been taken ill. As soon as we were ready we started off, but could only reach Kerman that night, where we rested, and the next day arrived at the garden of the Khan. It was a very pretty garden, with plenty of trees and running water. On our arrival we were ushered into the room prepared for us, and in a few minutes the poor little invalid was brought in, and even then he seemed to have the mark of death on his face; but he was a very self-willed boy, and every one had to humour him in everything, as the fits of temper which he indulged in were very dangerous for him in his weak state of health. While the doctor was examining and prescribing for the invalid in another room the two ladies came to see me, and brought a very appetising dinner; chickens cooked to perfection and pillaus formed the staple part of the meal. The ladies then retired, and my husband and I thoroughly enjoyed our first meal taken together in a Persian anderoon. After dinner my husband again visited the patient, and the ladies came to prepare our room for the night. This was quite an elaborate undertaking. First of all, a huge mosquito net was fixed up by attaching the four corners to tapes and nailing them to the wall. The underneath part of the net rested on the floor; on this the mattresses were placed, so that once you were inside the net you were in what seemed like a good-sized room. In fact, during the next two days we used to sit inside the net reading or writing, as outside there was no respite from the plague of mosquitoes and sandflies. Sleeping on the floor is very comfortable; in fact, I don't quite see the need of bedsteads, unless the room is infested with rats or other creeping creatures! The next two days passed very pleasantly; whenever my husband went out of the room, almost simultaneously I would hear a voice at the window asking permission to enter, and the ladies would come in for a chat. We became great friends, and this friendship lasted till we left Kerman some months later, and then the Khan lent us his carriage to drive to Yezd, as he wished to express his gratitude for all my husband had done for his boy. Unfortunately the boy even then was past human aid, and after two or three months of suffering he died. I have always been glad of these two days actually spent in a Persian home, as it enabled me to see what their everyday life really was; but as I have said, this was quite an exceptionally happy anderoon, with none of the wrangling and quarrelling generally connected with the homes of Persian women. While in Yezd I met and soon became very friendly with a most charming Persian lady. She was a daughter of one of the late Shahs, and thus was a princess in her own right; her husband was a nephew of the late Shah, so she was doubly connected with Persian royalty. H.R.H. Princess Hamadané Sultané was in many ways quite unlike the majority of Persian ladies. She was a strong-minded, clever woman, and was very anxious that her children should be brought up in European fashion. These children certainly had a very good time compared with other Persian children, as their mother refused to let them become little women before they had passed out of childhood's days, and although they were then nine and ten years old were generally playing with their dolls or other toys brought from Paris for their amusement. The princess very much wished her children to learn English, but I suggested that she should learn it herself first and then teach it to her children. To this she gladly consented, and so twice a week I used to go up and give her lessons. She quickly got over the A B C stage, as she had some slight knowledge of French, and took a great delight in picking out the words of an easy English reader, and in a very short time she greeted me in very quaint broken English: "Good morning; I hope you are well." Unfortunately, I had to leave my interesting pupil at this stage, as we were leaving Persia for England, and I never saw her again; but I have heard that she continued her English lessons for some time. I do not think I ever knew any one with so many dresses as this princess had; every time I saw her she appeared in a different costume, and always in rich silks, satins, or brocades. I asked her once if she knew how many gowns she possessed, and she confessed that she had no idea, and added that it would not be at all right for me to see her more than once in the same dress! And I certainly never did, although I was visiting her twice weekly for some months. This good lady exercised a very great influence over her husband (a most unusual thing in Persia), partly, perhaps, on account of her social position and also because she possessed a large amount of property in her own right. Before she came to live with her husband in Yezd she said she would only come with the understanding that she was to be the only wife, and I believe the prince kept to the agreement as long as she was with him. But he must have found it very hard, for I have heard that before his wife came no girl dared be out after dusk, so afraid were they of the prince and his courtiers. One day I was visiting in the anderoon in company with the lady doctor who was attending one of the children, and lunch was announced; so the prince made us sit down with them and partake of the mid-day meal. After lunch the prince amused himself by vaccinating all the children he could lay hands on (not his own, but those of the servants). The children did not seem to see the joke quite so much as the prince did! They were much too frightened to run away, and stood trembling in their shoes waiting for their turn to come. At that time, too, no one in the anderoon dared say they had toothache, for if they did immediately the prince would call for his forceps, and out would come a tooth. Perhaps it might happen to be the offender, but just as likely it would be an innocent tooth which had never given its owner a moment's pain! I shall never forget the delicious coffee which was always served when visiting at this house. It was a mixture, I believe, of coffee and chocolate; and I have never tasted anywhere such coffee. I asked the princess to give me the recipe, but my make never came up to the original, and I think perhaps they did not mean it to! The princess was very fond of sending to Paris for boxes of goods on approval, and it was rather amusing to be there when the things arrived. Sometimes most beautiful Parisian blouses would come, quite unsuitable for her; but she loved to try them on and then put them away, never, perhaps, to be looked at again. I have very pleasant memories of my friendship with Princess Hamadané, and have as a yâd gari (remembrance) a lovely silver tray of Persian work, which she presented to me on our leaving Yezd; also the photographs of her three children--two girls and a boy. It is quite impossible to tell of all the interesting visits paid to different anderoons; but I should like to mention some visits paid to the anderoon of the Zil-es-Sultan, a brother of the late Shah. He was then Governor of Isphahan, and my husband at that time was taking charge of the medical work there for a year. The governor one day sent his carriage, with the request that the English doctor would go to see one of his wives, and also bring his wife with him; so we went, and had a very pleasant three-mile drive from Julfa to Isphahan. Arriving at the palace, we were met by the chief eunuch and conducted to the anderoon, into a large room surrounded by glass mirrors. Here in a far corner, seated on the ground, was "something" covered with what looked like a large white sheet. This "something" turned out to be one of the ladies of the anderoon, who was suffering from dimness of sight. She was one of the prince's favourite wives, and so he had taken the trouble to allow her to see the doctor. After a great deal of palaver she consented to lift a corner of her chuddar, and, while shielding the other part of her face, to uncover her eyes. Her husband was very anxious for her eyes to be thoroughly examined, and he ordered a dark room to be speedily prepared, so that the examination should be as complete as possible. While we were waiting for the room and lamp to be ready the prince took out a little pocket-mirror from his waistcoat and carefully looked to see if his hair was in perfect order, and then, having satisfied himself that all was as it should be, he entered into conversation with my husband over the state of his wife's eyes. Another day I paid quite an informal friendly visit to two or three of his wives. Each wife had a separate compound to herself, and her own set of servants and slaves, and no wife was allowed to visit another without special permission from the chief eunuch or from the prince himself. That afternoon two or three had asked for and received permission to drink tea in the house to which we had been invited, so we had quite a nice little tea-party, and a very gay one too so far as the costumes were concerned; but the subject of dress being so stupendous, we will leave it for another chapter. CHAPTER VIII MORE ABOUT PERSIAN WOMEN Costumes--Wedding festivities--Wedding dinner--Kindness of Persian husbands--Story of brutality--Divorce--Aids to beauty--Degradation and cruelty of women. "Women are made by men: The nations fade that hold their women slaves: The souls of men that pave their hell-ward path With women's souls lose immortality." John Davidson. The indoor costume of the Persian women is not at all pretty or graceful. It consists of a short, loose jacket, generally made of some gaily coloured material, and in the case of rich women of bright brocaded silk or velvet, and a very short skirt, just the length of a ballet dancer's. In fact their dress is an exact copy of the Parisian ballet dancer. Many years ago all the women wore those picturesque baggy trousers, with long flowing garments over them, but while one of the late Shahs was visiting Europe he saw the ballet dancer, and his fancy was so taken by the costume, that on his return he ordered all the inmates of the royal harem to adopt the same dress; and as royalty always sets the fashion for the country, in a short time all the Moslem women of Persia had adopted this hideous fashion. I remember so well the first time I saw this costume; it was the evening of the day on which we first arrived in Isphahan. After dinner Miss Stuart (the bishop's daughter) and I were walking on the roof of their house, when suddenly a woman appeared on the other side of a wall and began chattering with Miss Stuart. I felt inclined to look the other way, thinking the good lady had forgotten to complete her toilet, but seeing that Miss Stuart did not seem surprised, I supposed it was all right, and so began to feel more at ease; but certainly the first sight of these costumes is rather alarming, especially if the woman is not wearing the long stockings, as they generally do, but often leave off in very hot weather. On their heads they wear a square of white muslin, and flowing down their backs, and attached by a pin to their hair, is a long, graceful chuddar, generally made of a pretty muslin or silk; and as the women walk about the house, these chuddars flow behind, and look very graceful indeed. The ladies do not like the fashion of the short skirts, and many were the requests made to me to cut out dresses such as I was wearing, and if I had wished, I could have had my time in Kerman fully occupied in cutting out dresses according to European fashion; but with the exception of pleasing two or three of my special friends, I always told them I had no time for dressmaking, but would always be pleased to lend them patterns. So ashamed were some of the women of their short skirts, that they would often take their long, flowing chuddars from their heads and wrap them round their waists, giving the appearance of a draped skirt. The outdoor costume of the Persian women is much more becoming than the indoor, though it is decidedly hot in the warm weather. It is made up of three pieces; the big voluminous trousers which slip over the feet and cling closely to the shape of the foot, but above the ankle fall full and baggy; over these are worn the large black chuddar, the poor wearing black calico and the rich silk; and then, covering the face, is the veil. This veil is a long strip of white calico with open work for the part covering the eyes, and fastened together at the back of the head by brass, silver, or gold and jewelled clasps, according to the rank of the wearer. Through the open work part of the veil the woman is able to find her way about, and see all that there is to be seen, while no one can see the face behind the veil. To see a group of Persian ladies decked out in their silks and satins is a sight not easily forgotten. There is nothing these women love more than some festivity at their own or a friend's house, which gives them an opportunity of showing off their finery, and also of meeting all their acquaintances, and having a good "gufti goo" (chat). I was often invited when in Kerman upon these occasions, but found, if I accepted all invitations, my time would be taken up with going to betrothal feasts, weddings, &c., and so I used to look in for a few minutes and then excuse myself. On one occasion I went to a wedding at the house of one of the chief mullahs of the town. I was asked to go at sunrise, but did not put in an appearance till about nine o'clock. When I arrived, all the guests had been there already some hours; it was certainly a very pretty sight. Two large compounds were given up to the entertainment of the bride's party, while the bridegroom was holding his reception in another house. As I entered the door leading into the anderoon, I could but stand and admire the scene before me. Quite two hundred ladies were present, each one dressed in gorgeous silks and satins, and all wearing the graceful chuddar falling from the head. The majority of these chuddars were of silk--Indian, Japanese, or Persian silks, all vying with each other in their brilliancy and beauty. Some were rainbow silks, all colours merging into each other; then again, others were gaily flowered, and others "shot" or lustre silks--the whole forming a wonderfully harmonious and striking picture, and I longed for a camera that might give a true representation, both in colour and vivacity, of this butterfly scene before me. To add to the gayness of their attire, each married lady was wearing a spray or wreath of flowers in her hair, and many carried or wore bouquets of roses. The whole effect was charming, and formed a marvellous study of colour, gracefulness, and Eastern beauty. We have kept our hostess waiting quite a long time while we have been admiring her guests, but now we must hasten to pay our respects to her, and take our seat amongst this gay throng. I was alone that day, being the only European woman in the town; but it will be much more pleasant if my readers will come with me in imagination to that wedding feast. We are ushered into a large room full of gay ladies, who immediately all rise from the ground as we enter, and salaam us. It is rather difficult to know which is our hostess amongst so many, so we must be impartial in our salutations, and pray God that "their kindnesses may never grow less," or "their hands never pain them," &c. Then we all take our seats, and conversation is resumed. The ladies will begin with a series of questions, such as-- "How old are you?" "Have you a mother?" "Why do you not black your eyebrows?" "Are you happy?" "Is your husband kind to you?" "Do you like him?" "How much did your dress cost?" and so on, like a group of children--and when you think they have finished, they will begin again. After a short interval tea is handed round. Tea, did I say? well, it is dignified by that name, but in reality Persian tea is not much more than sweetened water coloured with a drop of tea. To begin with, the cups are very tiny, generally made of glass. They are first filled up with three or four lumps of sugar, then a teaspoonful of tea is poured over these, and water added until the cup is full, and the result is--Persian tea! However, it is rather pleasant to drink, and helps to pass the time. After a short interval more tea is handed round, and then glasses of sherbet, made from juices of different fruits, and then, for a change, coffee is served. About noon, just as I am afraid we are all feeling very tired and sleepy, a welcome change comes; a stirring and commotion begins in the courtyard, women rush about with enormous trays on their heads and carrying all kinds of dishes: this is but a prelude to dinner being announced. Two large rooms are laid out for dinner; in each room about one hundred guests sit down. I was taken in by the mother of the bridegroom, so we will all pass in under her protection. (The mother of the bride is not in evidence on these occasions, being supposed to be overwhelmed with grief at losing her daughter.) The "table" is the ground, so we must gracefully (?) sit on our heels. On the "table" are over two hundred different dishes--pillaus, chillaus, chicken, kabobs, vegetables, fruits--all laid out in tempting array. The hostess having pronounced the Moslem benediction, "Bismi'llah" (In the name of God), all the guests fall to work in real earnest: very little talking is done, eating being the business of the moment. Spoons and forks were provided for me, but I preferred to do as they did, and so ate with my fingers, though it requires a good deal of practice to do it neatly and gracefully. As a mark of respect and honour, the hostess from time to time breaks off pieces of meat from her portion and places them on my plate, and once as a special mark of favour placed a dainty morsel of chicken in my mouth. I hope my readers have enjoyed their dinner as much as I have, for to my mind a Persian feast is a most delectable entertainment. After dinner we all washed our hands in a basin brought round for the purpose, the water being poured from an ewer on to our hands by a servant. Then we all retired to our reception-room of the morning, and again tea and sherbet were handed round, and the kalian or water-pipe was much in request, each lady taking a whiff and passing the long tube to her neighbour. But where is the poor little bride all this time? We have neither seen nor heard her all day long, and yet the feast is supposed to be in her honour. All through the long, hot June day she has been cooped up in a tiny room, and as sunset approaches her friends and relations go to dress her and to decorate her from head to foot with jewellery and finery. Into her hair is woven a quantity of golden thread, so that in the distance it looks like a mass of gold, and must be very heavy on the poor tired little head. She is brought out into a large room, and seated on a chair in the middle of it; then every one goes up to her, and after kissing her, says, "May you be blessed." The poor little mite (she might be thirteen years old, but hardly looks it) seems absolutely wretched and miserable, and when food is brought to her refuses to eat. Just at sunset she is taken to her husband's house in a closed carriage, and our hearts must ache as we think of what is in store for her. Even if her husband is kind to her at first, yet she has nothing much to look forward to but misery and degradation, and if by chance she goes to an anderoon already containing two or three wives, then may God take pity on her, for her fate will be a sad one. As soon as a man marries a girl she is absolutely his property, and he may do exactly as he pleases with her; there is no redress for the poor unfortunate girl. If the man is a brute and half kills his wife no one dare say a word to him, or if perchance there is one brave enough, he will only be told that "the girl is his wife, and he can do as he likes with his own," and so it is no wonder if the shadow of the future lies darkly on the faces of those poor little children, as they leave their mother's home as brides to go out into the unknown which lies before them. I remember a poor little girl who was brought to the hospital in Julfa, while we were there. She had been married to a brutal man, when about eleven years old. Being very unhappy with him, she often used to run away and take refuge with her mother, who lived in a village a mile or two away from her husband's house. On many occasions he had beaten her severely for some childish fault, and each time she had fled to her mother, and stayed with her till her husband came and carried her off again by force. This went on for some time, till the poor child's life was nothing but wretchedness and misery. One day she displeased her husband by not cooking the dinner to his liking, and he was so enraged with her that he behaved in the following abominable manner. First of all he saw that the windows of his house were barricaded and the door locked: then he stripped the trembling, frightened child, and deliberately poured paraffin oil all over her body, and finally set a light to her and left her to her fate, taking care to lock the door after him, as he went out. The neighbours, hearing the girl's screams, rushed to the house, but the doors being locked and the windows fastened much precious time was wasted. When they finally smashed open the window it was only to find the child a mass of flames. They picked her up and rushed wildly with her into the street, and dropped her into the nearest stream to quench the flames! It was a marvellous thing to think that after all this there was any life left in the poor child. The neighbours took her to her mother, who plastered all her wounds with red earth and left her lying in the corner of the room for some ten days. Then, taking the advice of some friends, they procured a cradle and lifted the poor wee child into it, and hoisted the cradle and its occupant on the back of a donkey, and took her some five days' journey to Julfa. They had heard of the Mission Hospital through some of their villagers, who had been treated there, and so they brought this little victim of Persian cruelty to the lady doctor, who took her in, dressed her wounds, and laid her in a clean, comfortable bed. All that human love and kindness could do was done to alleviate her sufferings, but nothing could save her life, and after three days she passed away--a martyr indeed to the creed of Islam, which enables and allows men to treat their women as something lower than the beasts of the field. Ought not the cries of distress and agony from the poor women of Persia so to rouse us, their sisters in England, that we shall determine to do all that lies in our power to lighten their burdens and to bring some rays of light into the dark lives of our Eastern sisters? One thing which adds greatly to the misery of these women is the ease with which their husbands can divorce them. A wife never knows from day to day whether or no her lord may not divorce her. Often for most trivial matters a man will cast away his wife. This being the case, the woman will lie and deceive her husband in order to escape divorcement. If the wives of Persia could only be raised to the level of true womanhood I believe they would become good wives and mothers, but while they are what they are, how can there be any hope for them? There is nothing but utter darkness till the true Light shines into their lives, and then and then only will the day break for these downtrodden, degraded beings. The Persian ladies are great beauty specialists, and bestow a good deal of attention upon their complexion and general make-up. They do not believe in beauty unadorned, for even when quite young they use the rouge-pot very freely, and often use it to great advantage too! I have often known a girl who was quite ordinary-looking, sallow and dark in complexion, but when dressed for her wedding I hardly recognised her, so changed was she by all the numerous "aids" to beauty. Her cheeks were now a lovely rose tint, and her eyebrows darkened and lengthened till they almost met in the middle, and the edges of her eyelids were also blackened with "kola," and really the effect was very good. They also spend much time and trouble in dyeing their hair with henna, not only from a fear of grey hair, but also because the dull red tint produced by henna is the fashionable colour. The Persian lady has very little in her life to elevate or refine her mind, and so we cannot wonder if at times we see in her many revolting characteristics. When we think of all she has to endure, and how little happiness comes to her lot, our wonder is that she retains even a semblance of womanhood. Should we be any better under like circumstances? If a woman is treated continually as if she was nothing but a beast of burden, is it to be wondered at that in some cases her nature becomes almost as the beasts of the field? Weird stories are told of the extremities to which women have been driven, and the cruelties which they have perpetrated. The following is one which I heard when in Persia. It was in the days when famine was rampant throughout the land. There was a certain man of high position who collected and stored all the corn he could gather, and then refused to sell at anything but famine prices; finally he was arrested and sent to Teheran, where he was tried and condemned to death. The Shah could not determine on the manner of death to be ordered for this rascal, but at last decided to hand the unfortunate man over to the mercies of the royal anderoon to be put to death by them. The ladies and women servants consulted together, and decided to keep the wretch in their quarters and kill him by inches, day by day. The method they chose was to cut him to pieces with scissors till he died! I cannot vouch for the truth of this story, and I trust it is not true, but I give it to you as I heard it. But one thing I know to be true, and that is, when a Persian woman is once roused to anger, jealousy, and passion, there is hardly anything too dreadful for her to contemplate doing, in her longing for revenge. CHAPTER IX SOME POINTS IN THE MOSLEM FAITH Fasts and Feasts--Seyyids, dervishes, mullahs--Legends of the drowning mullah, and the yard square hole. "Religion's all or nothing." R. Browning. There are five things which every true Mohammedan must either believe or do. The first is the declaration of their faith or "Kalimat." "I declare that there is no God but God, and Mohammed is His Apostle;" "La Allaha il Allah wa Mohammed rasool Allah," this is the all-important witness, and must be continually recited by all true believers. Secondly, Moslems are bound to repeat prayers five times a day--at daybreak, noon, shortly before sunset, during twilight, and an hour after dark. I do not say all Moslems do repeat prayers at each of these times, but that is their rule, and those who consider themselves good Moslems adhere most righteously to these set times for prayers. Needless to say, it is but a form of words and position, any slight error in posture taking away all the benefit to be derived from the prayer. Often in Persia women have said their prayers in our drawing-room, if the call to prayer sounded while they were visiting me. Living in the East, one gets very fond of the call to prayer, heard from some neighbouring minaret. The first sound that catches the ear at daybreak is "Allah, Allaho Akhbar" (God is most great), repeated four times. "La Allaha il Allah wa Mohammed rasool Allah"--this is said twice, and then other calls and invocations, always finishing up with the final declaration of "Allah, Allaho Akhbar." There is a great difference in the way this call to prayer is chanted, some men having most melodious voices, others harsh and grating; but wherever a true Moslem may be when he hears this call, he lays aside his work at once and begins to repeat his prayers, bowing, prostrating, touching the ground with his forehead, &c., till the duty is finished, when he returns to his work, perhaps to his cheating and his lying, for this repetition of prayers has no effect on his life or manner of living. Thirdly, all good Moslems are supposed to give voluntarily to the mullahs a tithe of all they possess, also alms to the poor. In the Koran we read, "Prayer carries us half way to God, fasting brings us to the door of His palace, but giving of alms procures admission." In many cases the mullahs are provided for entirely by the freewill offerings of the people, all gifts being sent anonymously. Fourthly, every true believer is expected to undertake, if at all possible, a pilgrimage, preferably to Mecca, but if that is out of the question then to Kerbela or Meshed. The former, of course, brings the greatest merit, and men and women will do all they can to perform this pilgrimage. On their return they are treated with great respect, and looked up to as little gods. They generally think so much of themselves after having performed this wonderful act of self-denial that they become quite unbearable to their friends. There is an Arabic proverb which shows the effect this pilgrimage to Mecca is supposed to have on the pilgrim. It is as follows: "If your friend has been to Mecca, trust him not. If he has been there twice, avoid him. But if he has made the pilgrimage three times, then flee from him as you would from Satan himself." Women often undertake these pilgrimages, spending weeks or months it may be over the journey, but resting for ever afterwards in the great glory and honour resulting from it. The fifth point to be observed by Moslems is that of fasting during the month of Ramadan. This lasts for thirty days, and is a real hardship for the poorer people when the fast falls during the summer, as from sunrise to sunset not a morsel of food or drop of water may pass their lips--or, as the Koran expresses it, from "the time you can distinguish between a white thread and a black, then keep the fast until night." For the rich and idle it is no great effort, for they simply feast and revel all night and sleep by day, but for the servants and labouring class it comes harder, as they must work by day and cannot sleep properly at night. Children are always very anxious to begin fasting, and often little mites of five or six will tell you with great pride that they are keeping the fast. They generally start by fasting for half days, and how proud they are, and how they gloat over other children who have not yet begun this work of devotion! Perhaps what the people who fast miss more than anything else during Ramadan is their smoking: they are such slaves to this habit, both men and women, that it is almost life to some of them, and they find it very hard to go without. When the cannon booms forth the hour of sunset, giving the Prophet's permission to his faithful ones to break their fast, generally the first thought, after moistening their lips with water, is that now they may enjoy their smoke, either of a cigarette or kalian. Mohurram is the month of mourning, when all the country mourns for Hassain and Hussein, the martyred sons of Ali, who are looked upon by the Shiahs as the rightful successors of the Prophet. During this season the majority of the people go into deep mourning, and the bazaars are sometimes draped in black. It is in this month that the great Passion Play of Persia is enacted, and while in Kerman we were fortunate enough to have an opportunity of witnessing this "tazieh," as the Passion Play is called. It certainly was a sight worth seeing at least once in a lifetime. The tenth day of this month of Mohurram is the one set aside for this festival, and is kept as a general holiday, so that all might go to see the great spectacle enacted on that day in memory of the death of Hassain and Hussein, the two grandsons of Mohammed. The Governor of Kerman had kindly invited us to view the performance from his house, and accordingly that morning at about eight o'clock he sent his carriage for us, and we were driven through the packed bazaars till we arrived at his house, or "Arg," as the governor's residence is called in Kerman. We were at once admitted by a private entrance, and ushered into a large verandah, which had been set apart for the use of Feringhis. As my husband and I were the only Europeans in the city at that time, we had it to ourselves. Here, before the commencement of the Play, we were regaled with tea, coffee, jam, bread, cheese, and cakes. Looking out, the sight was a wonderful one. In front of us was a large garden in which I suppose some 10,000 people were gathered. At one end of the garden was a large "hoze" or tank of water, over which was spread a huge awning, and near by a large pulpit from which the mullahs preached to the people, and tried to rouse their feelings to a high pitch of excitement. One man was specially successful in doing this, causing the women to wail wildly and beat their breasts frantically, and the men to smite their heads. After a delay of about an hour, the performance began with a long procession, which entered the garden at the far end and wound in and out till it had traversed the whole garden. This procession represented the family travelling as captives after the death of Hassain and his brother. First of all came six gaily decorated camels, with men riding upon them, beating drums and making a tremendous noise. Then came more camels carrying the tent furniture and other goods, followed by horses and mules laden with heavy loads. After these came four stretchers borne by men, on which lay four dead bodies (figures stuffed) representing Hassain and his three brothers, who perished from want of water, which had been cut off from them by their enemies. On each dead body sat a dove, supposed to be mourning. Then came a horrible sight, one which I never wish to see again. About a hundred madly excited men dressed in long white robes, armed with swords, were slashing their heads until the blood was streaming down their faces on to the robes, white, alas, no longer! As they reached the tank of water they formed into a line all round it, and kept up for some length of time a horrible kind of war dance. It was a ghastly sight. The dancers looked more like demons than men. One poor man fainted from loss of blood, and had to be carried away, and a little boy of about eight years of age also collapsed. It was bad enough to see grown men cutting themselves, but to see the little children being wounded in this way was terrible. This is, of course, looked upon as a work of great merit. The more numerous and deeper the gashes, the greater the merit they accrue to themselves. The wild dance was continued till a sign was given to the dancers by the governor, that he had seen enough to satisfy him. Then they all lined up in front of the verandah where the governor was sitting, and demanded that five notorious prisoners should be released from the prison close by. He at once acceded to their request, as it was the custom at this festival for the governor to release from the prison any prisoners who are interceded for by these wild, fanatical dancers. After this ghastly sight came a motley crowd of men and children on horses, all beating their breasts or heads. Some of the riders were so tiny that they had to be held on to their steeds by men-servants. Then came another body on a bier, with a man dressed in a lion's skin, embracing and fondling the dead body. It looked so weird to see the pseudo-lion kissing and hugging the remains of its late friend and master, and expressing in various ways great sorrow and anguish over its loss. After this came several batches of boys stripped to the waist, all beating their breasts. It was really a very pretty sight, for the boys kept such perfect time, one boy acting as leader, like a group of children performing gymnastic exercises. As their hands simultaneously clapped their breasts, there was a sharp report, at which they all shouted "Hassain! Hussein! Hassain! Hussein!" The whole proceeding was an interesting but sad spectacle, which I shall never forget. The clash of swords, the beating of drums, the weird wailing of the women, accompanied by their spasmodic shrieks, the shouting and yelling of the fanatical mob, all contributed to the making up of one of the most notable scenes of Eastern life. And yet it made one's heart ache to watch this crowd of human beings for whom Christ died, and who as yet know nothing of Him, but are only anxious to obtain merit for themselves by taking part in these gruesome religious performances. All over Persia "religious men" are much looked up to and respected. Of these the dervish is one very much to the fore. He is a religious mendicant, having taken a vow either for a certain time or permanently. The vow is not a very strict one, only consisting of poverty and obedience to a chief, to whom a portion of the alms received must be paid. These dervishes wander from place to place, chanting, singing, and begging. The natives do not like to refuse them anything, from fear more than love, perhaps, as it is considered meritorious to give alms to these religious people. They generally dress in dirty white, wear their hair long, and carry an axe or club, more often than not beautifully chased and inlaid, also the well-known dervish bowl, which is made from a huge nut, carved and decorated. Often these dervishes will come and seat themselves in the courtyard and begin their monotonous chant, and it is very difficult to get them to move, as the servants will never use force, and their reiterated requests to "move on" meet with no success whatever till the dervish is satisfied that he has extracted all the "backsheesh" likely to be forthcoming. The Seyyids are another class of people much respected in the country. They claim to be the direct descendants of the prophet Mohammed, and are allowed many privileges on account of this. They wear a green turban or waistband, to be known of all men. Looked upon as a religious body, the natives are afraid to offend them in any way. Then there are the "mullahs," or priests of the Islamic faith. They exercise a great deal of power over the people, but are not, as a rule, loved by them over much. The Persians are Shiah Mohammedans, whilst the Arabs and Turks are Sunnis. As the former know very little Arabic, the reading of the Koran is to them an unknown tongue, and they regard their "mullahs" as "sacred men," able to interpret the "Holy Book." Thus the Shiah priest gains great influence, not to say considerable wealth, in Persia, and the Shah himself fears the influence of the priesthood. The Sunnis, on the other hand, know Arabic, as a general rule, and many of them are able to consult the Koran for themselves, the result being that the "mullah" gains but little influence compared to the "Shiah" priest, and is often quite poor. Briefly, the Shiah priesthood is comparable with that of the Roman Catholic Church of Christendom, while "Sunni" mullahs do not claim, or would claim in vain, any such authority, thus more nearly resembling the "status" of Church of England clergy. The result is obvious: Persia is a priest-ridden country; in "Sunni" lands the people are freer, and dare think for themselves. It is a well-known fact that a Persian mullah will exact the uttermost farthing from his followers, but will never lend a helping hand to them in their need. For instance, if a man dies without an heir, his property according to law goes to the poor, but unfortunately it has to be done through a medium, and that medium is the mullah. He promptly pockets the property and gives its supposed value (valued, mark you, by himself) to the poor. We can imagine what a large percentage the poor receive of that property. Here is a story which was told us in Kerman, illustrating how loath the mullahs are to give anything away. The scene is a large pool of water, in it a mullah struggling to reach the bank, and in danger of drowning. A passer-by, seeing his distress, runs to his aid and cries, "Give me your hand, oh my lord, and I will pull you out." "No, indeed," answers the mullah, "I have never yet given anything to any one, and I certainly will not begin now." The kindly passer-by, not liking to leave the mullah in his sad condition, tries to think of another way out of the difficulty. Suddenly a bright idea strikes him, and running to the priest, he calls out, "Will you take my hand, then, oh my lord?" "Gladly," says the mullah, and allows himself to be drawn out of his perilous position. Another rather good story is told, showing the meanness of the priests. A man had agreed to pay a workman eight krans (2s. 8d.) for digging a hole one yard square. At the end of the day the workman had only dug a hole half a yard square, so the master went to a mullah to ask him how much he ought to pay the workman. "Why, of course," says the mullah, "half the sum agreed upon, that is, four krans." After deliberating awhile he said, "No, two krans is enough," and this decision he gave as final, although he impressed upon the man that one kran was all he could legally claim, as he had scientifically only done one-eighth of his work! In the next chapter we shall see a little of another religious sect, which is fast becoming a power in Persia. CHAPTER X OTHER RELIGIOUS SECTS Other religious sects--The Báb and Babism--Short sketch of life of the Báb--His imprisonment and execution--Parsees, or Zoroastrians--Persecutions of Parsees in seventh century--Sacred writings of Parsees, Zendavesta--Fire-worshipping--Fire temples--Holy fire--Parsee wedding--Costume of women--Death customs--Burial customs. "How many crimes have in religion's name been wrought." Lucretius. "Too oft religion has the mother been Of impious act and criminal." Lucretius. The founder of Babism was a native of Shiraz, by name Mirza Ali Muhammed, born in 1820; it was not till 1844 that he publicly proclaimed himself to be The Báb or Gate, through which all who wished for peace and happiness might pass into the inner chambers of mysticism and sacred mysteries. He soon gathered a large following around him, and in an astonishingly short time the fame of the Báb was noised abroad throughout the length and breadth of Persia. At first the Government and mullahs paid little attention to this new religion, thinking and believing it to be only a passing fancy of the people, but in its second year it took such rapid strides that they began to be alarmed, and to look about for means of checking its progress. The Báb was placed in prison, and his followers were forbidden, on pain of death, to teach or discuss their new religion. Soon afterwards, however, the Báb escaped, and fled to Isphahan, where the governor of that city protected him for some months, but on the death of the governor the Báb was again cast into prison. During his imprisonment he was not idle, for he wrote many books, setting forth his doctrines, and exhorting his followers to remain firm to their new faith in the face of all opposition and persecution. While the Báb was busy in prison, his followers were also busy, preaching and teaching, and by all means trying to extend the doctrines of their leader, and so great was the opposition and strife raised that the Government decided that the Báb must forfeit his life as a means of putting a stop once and for all to this new and dangerous sect. Accordingly the Báb was brought from Tabriz, where he had been imprisoned, and after a mock trial was sentenced to death. On the day appointed for his execution an enormous crowd gathered to witness his end--many from curiosity, and also many from love and pity for the youthful martyr, who to the last maintained the calmness and courage which had characterised his whole term of imprisonment. To make the lesson more emphatic, it was decided that two of the Báb's chief disciples were to be executed with him. One of these at the last moment recanted, and so was allowed to go free. It was said that his recantation arose not from cowardice or fear of death, but from a special revelation given to him, whereby he was commanded to recant in order to be able to carry away all books and papers belonging to the Báb, and deposit them in a safe place: however that may be, it is known that after an interval of two years he too became a martyr. Efforts were made to entice the other disciple to recant, but all proved unavailing, and he and his master the Báb were suspended, by ropes placed under their arms, to a beam placed a few feet from the ground. As they hung thus the disciple was heard to say, "Master, art thou satisfied with me?" and then the order was given to fire. When the smoke cleared away the body of the disciple was found to be riddled with bullets, but no Báb was visible. What had happened? Had a miracle been performed, and an angel been sent to rescue him from the hand of his persecutors? This was the thought of some, and, indeed, a miracle had been performed, for in spite of the many bullets which had been aimed at him not one had touched the Báb, but had only brought him deliverance by severing the ropes which bound him, so that he fell to the ground unhurt. At first it seemed as if the multitude would have pity on the unfortunate man, and spare him a second attempt, but these feelings were only of short duration, and the Báb was again dragged forth from his hiding-place, where he had taken refuge, and was a second time suspended. A fresh batch of soldiers had to be told off for the execution, as the first company absolutely refused to fire again. This time there was no intervention, and in a second or two the body of the young martyr of Shiraz was pierced with bullets. The bodies were cast out to the jackals, but were afterwards recovered and buried in Teheran by the order of the new Báb, Mirza Yahya. This event took place in 1850, and in spite of persecutions, oppositions, and cruelties, the Babis continued to grow in number and strength, and to-day they form a very large and important community throughout Persia. In fact, by the very barbarity of the persecutors their own end was defeated, for all the people were astonished at the heroism and fortitude displayed by the martyrs. Professor Brown [1] says, "Often have I heard Persians who did not themselves belong to the proscribed sect tell with admiration how Suleymán Khan, his body pierced with well-nigh a score of wounds, in each of which was inserted a lighted candle, went to his execution singing with exultation." The effect of such courage and heroism was only to stir up more people to be disciples of the Báb, as the following story shows. During the persecutions in Yezd, a young man went to scoff and jeer, but when he saw with what courage the martyrs endured torture, and met death, he called out, "I am a Babi, kill me too." While we were in Yezd the Babis were keeping very quiet, but, nevertheless, a great work was going on amongst them, but none dared say, "I am a Babi." A year or two after our departure from Persia we heard of terrible cruelties and persecutions enacted against these suffering people, but in spite of all, their number continues to grow and increase throughout the whole land of Persia, and to-day the Babis are stronger and more numerous than ever before. The Parsees of Persia are another most interesting and important sect: they live chiefly in Yezd and Kerman. They are a people within a people, living in Persia, and with the Persians, yet keeping quite distinct from the present inhabitants of the land. Only a few thousand of this large and influential body of people, who up till the seventh century were the inhabitants of the land, now remain in Persia. When the armies of Mohammed conquered Persia, most of these people fled to India; others preferred to adhere to the new religion, while a few remained faithful to their old belief, and refused either to flee to a new and strange country, or to change their creed, and so they remain till this day a distinct people, following their own customs, and holding to their own religion amidst a new and domineering nation. The founder of the Parsee religion was one called Zoroaster. Very little is known of his life; his birthplace is uncertain, though it is known he lived for many years in Bactria of Eastern Persia, and it is probable that it was in this place that he thought out the idea, from which in later years he constructed his religious system. The priests of this religion were the "magi" of the Old and New Testament, and it is very likely that at least one of the "wise men of the East" who went to offer their adoration to the new-born King was from these Parsees of Persia. The date of Zoroaster is very uncertain too. It is known, however, that in the sixth century B.C., when Cyrus was king, the Zoroastrian religion was firmly established in Western Persia. Some historians give him a date between 1000 and 1400 B.C. The sacred writings of the Parsees are called the Zendavesta, and are said to be inspired by God through one of their priests. This priest, having cleansed and bathed himself in the most careful manner, lay down to sleep clothed in pure white linen. He is said to have fallen into a deep sleep, from which he did not awake for seven days; at the end of which time he awoke and recited the faith of the Zoroastrians, while priests in waiting committed the whole to writing. In this way was the Zendavesta reduced to the form of a book. While fire-worshipping forms a large part of their religion, it is quite a mistake to suppose it comprises the whole, for Zoroaster laid down many laws concerning morality and the duties and destiny of man. The Parsees of to-day, as seen in Kerman and Yezd, are a fine race; their commercial ability is very much above that of the ordinary Persian, and they are a much cleaner and more moral set of people than their conquerors. They regard fire as something sacred, as being the symbol of their god, and nothing will induce them to treat fire lightly. For instance, we could never persuade our Parsee servants to blow out a candle; and smoking is prohibited on account of their religious principles, though nowadays many do smoke in secret. Their habits of cleanliness and continual personal ablutions have perhaps contributed to make them the healthy race they are to-day. A good Parsee will wash many times a day, always before and after praying, as well as on many other occasions. All Parsees wear a girdle round their waists, twisted into three knots in a most complicated and intricate way. Whenever they wash they must take this off, and after their ablutions are over they replace the girdle, repeating certain prayers for each knot. These three knots represent the threefold cord, which is not easily broken, of good thoughts, good words, good deeds. There are said to be some thirty or forty fire temples still existing in Yezd, and in these the holy fire is always burning; the light is never allowed to go out, it being the work of the priests to keep it continually bright and trimmed. The office of priesthood descends from father to son, and besides attending to the religious needs of the people, the priest is also supposed to look after their temporal necessities, especially in the case of poverty-stricken families. Parsee women have a much freer life than their Persian sisters; they go about the streets quite openly, never veiling their faces, and altogether enjoy a much better position than the Mohammedan women. In some cases the women are even allowed to eat with the men of the house--a great concession indeed! The children are bright, and in many cases clever. When seven days old an astrologer is consulted as to the future of the infant; and when seven years old a boy is blessed by the priest, who invests him with the sacred girdle, at the same time throwing upon the child's head portions of fruit, spices, and drops of perfume. Girls are married when quite young, and the astrologer is again consulted on this important matter. When in Yezd we were invited to a Parsee wedding, and a very interesting sight it was. The invitation--which was written in letters of gold, and arrived some days before the date fixed for the ceremony--was acknowledged and accepted by us with much pleasure, as we were anxious to see something of the customs of these interesting people. When the day arrived we arrayed ourselves in gala attire, and set out to the house of the bride. It was just midnight when we arrived, and already the guests, some hundreds of them, had been feasting for hours--in fact, I might say "days," for this was the seventh and last day of the wedding festivities, and many of the guests had been present each day. They all looked thoroughly worn-out and tired. A room had been set apart for the Europeans to dine in, and just after midnight a most sumptuous dinner was served, consisting of about a dozen courses. When this had been satisfactorily disposed of we dispersed to visit the different rooms occupied by the guests, my husband remaining with the men, while I and another English lady sought out the bride to give her our salaams and good wishes. The confusion was terrible--drums beating, cymbals clashing, women dancing and singing, children yelling and crying, and amid it all, seated upon the ground, sat the poor little bride-elect. No one seemed to be taking much notice of her, every one apparently aiming to amuse herself in the most noisy way possible. By-and-by a large, silk-covered cushion was brought out from a back room, and on this the bride was placed, and covered entirely with a large silk shawl. I wondered what was going to happen next, when suddenly a group of men appeared at the door. These were the representatives of the bridegroom, who came to ask formally for the hand of the bride. They came and stood in front of the covered-up bride, and called in a loud voice, "Oh, my daughter, will you consent to be the bride of this man?" (naming the bridegroom). This was repeated six times amidst a silence which could be felt, all listening for the answer of the bride. On their repeating the question the seventh time, a very timid "Balli" (Yes) was heard coming from the region of the shawl, upon which the commotion started again with redoubled vigour, in the excitement caused by the acceptance on the part of the bride of her bridegroom. Of course this was a mere form, as everything had been arranged long beforehand. I shocked one good old lady by asking what would happen if the bride had said "No" instead of "Yes" to the oft-repeated question! After receiving this very satisfactory answer to their inquiries the men went off, and the women began to prepare the bride for the last and most important part of the programme--viz. that of taking her to the home of the bridegroom. They covered her with a large silk chuddar, and over her head threw a thick shawl, so that the poor girl could see nothing, and had to be led and supported on each side by her proud relatives. The distance between the two houses might perhaps have taken five minutes to walk in an ordinary way, but that night we took quite an hour. The procession was headed by two "vakeels" (agents), who were bargaining the whole way as to the dowry of the bride. Every now and then they would come to a standstill, and the bride's vakeel would refuse to go a step further till more money had been paid, and after a great deal of shouting, gesticulating, and wrangling, the bridegroom's vakeel would end by throwing some coins into the other's hand, and then the procession would proceed for a few steps till blocked once more, while the whole process of bargaining was gone through again. Fireworks were going off the whole time, and were apparently laid along the route, for every now and then we were startled by having a rocket fly up from beneath our feet. About every twenty yards or so we came across huge bonfires of dried faggots right in our path, and the whole procession had to wait till these had died down before they could pass on. Arriving at the door of the bridegroom's house, a final and most exciting scene took place between the two vakeels, the one threatening even then to take the bride away, and the other, getting more wildly angry every minute, declaring he did not want the bride, and would not pay a "para" (1/2d.) more for her, and ending up by giving the sum bargained for. If we had not known it was all part of the ceremony, we might have expected the two men to come to blows; but it all ended happily, and we trooped into the new home of the bride. Then came a long time of weary waiting, during which my sympathies went out to the tired, frightened bride; but just as we thought there was nothing more to wait for, three interesting scenes took place. The first was the actual marriage ceremony, in which a priest read many long prayers from a book, and then tied the couple together with a silk thread and pronounced a blessing upon them. The second scene took place in the open courtyard, in the centre of which was burning the sacred fire placed on a pedestal. The priest and parents of the bride and bridegroom now joined hands with the happy couple and walked in solemn single file round and round the fire, the priest chanting the whole time; this was done seven times, and then all retired quietly, leaving the fire burning in the court. To the third and final scene only a favoured few were admitted; fortunately I was amongst that number. Into the room prepared for the newly-married couple the little wife was now led, and for the first time the coverings were taken from her head and face. She was placed on a huge silk-covered mattress, then the husband came and took his seat by her side: both of them were looking thoroughly miserable! One of the women then brought a copper basin and ewer filled with milk, and the bridegroom proceeded to wash his wife's feet in milk, and she in her turn washed his hands. This done, we all bade farewell to the newly-married couple and the wedding ceremony was at an end. Hastily saying good-bye to our host and hostess, and expressing our good wishes for the welfare and happiness of the young people, we made our way homewards, to find it was not very far off dawn, but having thoroughly enjoyed our first experience of a Parsee wedding ceremony. The costume of the Parsee women is rather quaint and pretty; it consists of very baggy trousers gathered in at the ankle. These trousers are often made of very pretty pieces of embroidery joined together. As soon almost as a girl can sew she begins to embroider strips of brightly-coloured materials in order to have them ready for her wedding trousseau. Over these garments they wear a loose shirt reaching to just below the knees; this is also made of strips of different coloured materials, or in the case of a bride is also embroidered. Then comes the head-dress: it is far beyond my powers to say of how many pieces this is composed, or as to how they are arranged. The number of coverings on their heads is legion! First comes a little tight cap fitting closely over the head and ears. Over this is arranged in a most marvellous way some six or seven different pieces of calico or linen, the top one of all generally being a very bright calico, a mixture of red and yellow being the favourite pattern. The men are obliged to wear dowdy colours as a mark of submission to the powers that be. For the same reason also they are not allowed to ride through the bazaars, and if a Parsee is riding outside the city and meets a Moslem he promptly has to dismount and walk till he has passed his more fortunate neighbour; then he may resume his riding. This is, I believe, the case even if the Moslem be a poor man and the Parsee a flourishing merchant. To pass from life to death. A Parsee when he is dying sends for the priest, who anoints him with sacred juice, repeats some verses from the "Avesta," and prays for a safe crossing of the "bridge" and admission into Paradise. As soon as the breath has left the body, a dog is brought in from the street to ascertain if life is really extinct. This idea originated evidently from the old Zoroastrian idea that the evil spirit is expelled from a dead body by means of a "four-eyed dog" being brought in and made to look at the dead, the extra "two" eyes being represented by two black spots over the brow of the dog. The body is then placed on a bier and carried to the Towers of Silence, or "dakhmehs," by men specially set apart for that purpose. These men are looked upon as unclean from their contact with the dead, therefore only those whose work it is to do so will touch the body, the cleansing necessary after defilement from contact with the dead being so exacting and laborious. On arriving at the dakhmeh, prayers are recited by the priests and the body laid on an iron grating, so that when the vultures and other birds of prey have done their horrible work, the bones fall down and are safe from molestation by dogs and jackals. The dakhmehs, always some distance from the town, are built in a circular shape, some of the largest being 200 or so feet in diameter. They are generally built on rising ground, and form a landmark for many miles around. Prayers for the dead are said for three or four days after the death, and holy fire is kept burning in the house of the deceased during the whole of that time, as the soul is not supposed to leave the body till the fourth day after death. The better-class Parsees "mourn" for a year after the death of a near relative; that is, they keep up certain ceremonials for that length of time, and offer flowers and fruits on behalf of their dead. The Parsees have a governing body called the Anjiman. This consists of a number of leading men, representatives of each class of society. The Persian Government acknowledges the Anjiman, and accepts one of its number to act as its representative. CHAPTER XI DESERT DELIGHTS Songs of the desert--Sunsets, sunrises, mirages--Illness in the desert--Mehman khanehs, caravanserais--Chappa khanehs--Lost in the desert--Its cruelties, and sadness. "The desert wide Lies round thee like a trackless tide In waves of sand forlornly multiplied." F. W. Faber. To a lover of the desert a journey across its boundless tracts is always full of interest and delight. It is strange what an attraction the desert has for some people, and stranger still is the fact that this magnetic power increases as time passes, and instead of wearying of the wilderness, they love it more and more. And any one who has once heard the call of the desert is always longing to answer that call, and to fly once more, as a needle to its magnet, to that great, wondrous world. For it is a world of its own, this great, boundless ocean of sand--a world altogether different from any other part of God's earth. I once heard an address on "The Desert," and the speaker said that he did not think it possible for any one with an uneasy conscience to bear the solitariness of the desert. Be this as it may, one thing is sure: no one can live and travel in the desert without feeling the majestic Presence of God. Everything speaks of Him, the great sea of sand, the flowers springing into blossom at His word, the tiny lizard darting across your path, and other countless creatures, all finding life and sustenance in the desert, each telling of the wonderful Creator who watches over and cares for all. The songs of the desert, too, are fascinating; songs which, heard elsewhere, would seem incongruous and lacking in harmony. The camel or mule bells, booming out in the silence of the night, remind one of home and loved ones. Often have I been awakened in the night by the sound of the caravan bells, and for a moment thought they were the bells of the dear old church in Devonshire. Then, again, the crooning songs of the muleteer, as he trudges along hour after hour, have a peculiar charm, which grows on one wondrously after a while. And what can be said of the marvellous mirages--visions which come as messengers of hope and leave us victims of despair? For who has not experienced relief and joy at the sight of some beautiful mirage, resembling the welcome sight of a village with trees and water, all apparently within easy reach of the weary traveller, but which in a moment of time vanish, leaving blank disappointment behind. And where can be seen such glorious sunset effects as in the desert? especially when, as is so often the case in Persia, the desert is surrounded by mountains and hills, which catch the after glow, and reflect all those indescribable shades of crimson, gold, and blue, all merging into a beatific and not easily forgotten vision. But to come to the more practical side of desert life. Travelling in the desert is not all a path of roses, but, given good health, fine weather, and pleasant company, it is a very enjoyable way of passing two or three weeks. On the other hand, I know of nothing more wretched than being overtaken by illness when far away in the desert. Then you feel how utterly alone and helpless you are, for it is impossible to travel on, and at the same time well-nigh impossible to stay where you are! We have had this experience more than once during our many travels, and found it not at all pleasant. Once I was taken ill in this way, and the only place to be found as shelter was a filthy stable, full of rats, cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. If you wish thoroughly to enjoy a journey across the desert, you must choose your time well and wisely. The best time is the early spring, before the great heat begins. If it is essential to travel during the summer, all the stages have to be done by night, and this is much more tiring, as it is seldom possible to sleep during the day owing to the pest of flies, mosquitoes, and other lively companions. The rest-houses of Persia are of three grades or kinds, viz. "mehman khanehs," "chappa khanehs," and caravanserais. The first of these three are found between Resht and Teheran. They are supposed to be run after the plan of a European hotel! Beds are supplied, and sometimes a tooth-brush and comb! The traveller is shown into a room in which the beds are kept ready for all passers-by: it is not thought necessary to change the bedding too often! The furniture consists of a washstand, table, and couple of chairs, and everything is as dirty as can be. I much prefer the ordinary caravanserai, which is found all over Persia. These are generally built by a wealthy man who wishes to do some "good deed," to make a name for himself, and gain merit in Paradise. A caravanserai is not the cleanest spot on earth! But after travelling a little you get used to a certain amount of dirt, and are very much surprised if by chance you come across a fairly clean rest-house. These caravanserais are built, as a rule, in the form of a square, the sides of which are occupied by rooms leading off the courtyard, the centre being the resting-place of mules, donkeys, horses, and all other kinds of animals. At the end of the stage you fix on the cleanest of these rooms, and your servant sweeps all the accumulated dirt and dust of ages into one corner, thus raising a cloud of dust and disturbing the peace of myriads of "pilgrims of the desert." After waiting a few minutes to allow the dust to settle a little, you then furnish your room for the night by spreading a rug on the filthy floor, and setting up your travelling beds, chair, tables, &c. As likely as not, there will be no door to the room, so you knock in a couple of nails and fasten a curtain over the doorway to keep out the prying eyes of your too near and inquisitive neighbours. Then you begin to think about your evening meal, and your servant goes off to bargain and wrangle over some unfortunate fowl, the result being that in about an hour's time your dinner is ready, and shortly after you very thankfully retire to rest, hoping for the best. The chappa khanehs, or post-houses, are often a trifle cleaner than the caravanserai. Here the animals are kept for the post, and any one travelling "chappa" is supposed to find fresh relays of horses at each of these places, but very often the number is short, and the poor, wretched, underfed animal has to do duty for a second stage: a "stage" is anything from fifteen to thirty miles. My husband once rode "chappa" from Yezd to Kerman, a distance of 250 miles, in 2 1/2 days, to attend an English doctor who was very ill with typhoid fever. It was very hard and rough riding; the roads were bad, the horses worse, some of the animals being blind, others lame, while the majority of them were so over-worked and badly fed that it seemed impossible that they could ever do the stage. A doctor once riding in this way to visit a European, is said to have arrived at one of these post-houses, and finding no horse, demanded a mule. On this beast he made the next stage, to be told on arrival that there was only a donkey available. Nothing better presenting itself, he accepted this mount, and in time reached the next stage, where he was met with the comforting announcement that the only animal at liberty was a cow! History seems uncertain after this point, so we will draw a veil over it! Sometimes these caravanserais and chappa khanehs are the only signs of life to be seen at the end of a stage. There they stand, alone, surrounded on all hands by vast stretches of desert, and form a landmark for miles around. One such I remember very well, as each time we passed that way it seemed to have become more lonely and desolate. Visible from a distance of 5 farsakhs (18 miles), it made the stage seem very long! The atmosphere is so rarefied that distant objects appear near, and the buildings, which were in reality 15 miles away, looked quite close at hand. In this chappa khaneh we were once guilty of inscribing our names on its already well-filled walls. Some years after a lady was visiting us in Mosul, and told us she had read our names in that far-distant chappa khaneh. It is not a very pleasant sensation to be lost in a desert. Only once did this experience befall us, and then we were glad when it was over. We were on our way from Yezd to Kerman, and had reached the second stage out. We had arranged with our muleteer to start at a certain hour that morning, but when we came down from the "bala khaneh" (upstairs room) where we had been sleeping, we found no signs of our caravan being ready to start. After loitering about for some time, we decided not to wait any longer, but to ride on ahead. This was quite contrary to our usual custom, as we always found it wiser to see the caravan off first, otherwise the muleteers dawdled half the morning away. However, we thought this once we would alter our plans, as the dawn was even then breaking, and we knew that in a very short time the sun would be scorchingly hot. So off we went, telling our servant to follow as soon as possible. We received minute instructions as to which direction we were to take, and thought we could not possibly mistake our road. Outside the town, on the edge of the desert, we came to two roads, one leading straight ahead, the other branching to the left. We decided to take the former, thinking it looked more trodden, thereby showing more signs of traffic. So we went gaily on. My husband occasionally remarked, "I hope we are on the right road," and I always lightly answered, "Oh yes, I am sure we are," as I pointed out to him the fact that we were following the same path along which another caravan had evidently passed a few hours before. Howbeit we were not on the right road, as we very soon found to our cost. By this time the sun was blazing down upon us, and we began to wonder why our servants and caravan had not caught us up. Time went on, and not a sign of life was to be seen. Standing in our stirrups, we scanned the horizon, but nothing could we see but the scorching sand. We then began seriously to think that we had taken the wrong turning and were lost. Lost in the desert, without a drop of water or a scrap of food! Pleasant thoughts these were as companions! We could not go back: to go forward was worse than useless. After considering a little as to the best thing to be done, we decided to gallop on till we came to a small hill to be seen in the distance. This we accordingly did, and as we neared the summit saw to our great thankfulness a tiny speck on the horizon in the direction from which we had come. This "speck" soon developed into a moving object, and by-and-by we could see the figure of a man and horse galloping hard. As the horse and rider came nearer, our thankfulness was indeed great to see that the rider was our own servant, George. If ever we had cause for thankfulness it was then, and we certainly said, and felt from our very hearts, "Alhamd' llillah" (Praise be to God!), and vowed we would never stray away again from our caravan unless we were quite sure of our road. Our man was so delighted to see us safe and sound that he wept for joy. After a long delay the caravan had at last started from the chappa khaneh just as the sun was rising, and set out upon its way. They were all surprised to think we had gone so far, but concluded at first that we had galloped on in order to reach the lunching-place before the great heat. On arriving at the spot, however, great was their dismay to find we had not yet arrived. Our servant immediately rode back to the village to make inquiries. On his way he met a man who told him he had seen us riding off in the opposite direction. George immediately took the path indicated, with the result already told. By the time we regained our caravan we were well-nigh worn out with heat and thirst, having been under the blazing sun without food or water for most of the hottest hours of the day, but very thankful to be on the right track once more. One thing that saddens a European traveller during a journey in Persia is to see the cruel way in which the muleteer often treats his animals. The sufferings of these poor beasts are terrible. I often longed to be able to thrash the muleteer for his cruelty to a poor, long-suffering little donkey. Bowed down, maybe, under a load twice his own size, the poor ass does his best to keep up with the other animals, but only receives kicks and hard knocks for his pains. The wretched creature is urged on and on by having a steel or iron instrument run into some horribly sore place by his kind and compassionate owner. Often have I seen a mule or donkey stumble and fall beneath its enormous load, unable to raise itself, till its master with blows and curses comes to lend a hand. Again and again will this happen, till at last the poor beast can go no further, and is left to its fate. Death is the kindest master some of these suffering creatures possess. I remember once seeing a mule unloaded, and the sight under the pack-saddle was enough to make one's heart ache. A deep wound about twelve inches long was exposed to view, just under the arch of the saddle, where all the heaviest pressure and friction came. The owner then heated till red hot a long wire rod, passing it through and through this wound till the poor creature was nearly mad with pain and agony. The next day a boy was ordered to ride this wretched beast, but the stench from the wound was so great, and the flies attracted by it so numerous, that he could not endure it, and asked to be given another animal. This request was granted, but the poor brute of a mule had to pay the penalty by receiving an extra load upon his poor wounded back. At the first town we came to, the muleteer sold this mule, doubtless to some one who would work the last particle of strength out of him. Poor burdened beasts of the desert! one can only hope for them a speedy end to their troubles, and rest hereafter. Another sad sight to be seen in the desert sometimes, are brick pillars in which some unfortunate victim has been walled up alive. This is a horrible method of inflicting capital punishment. The victim is put into the pillar, which is half built up in readiness; then if the executioner is merciful he will cement quickly up to the face, and death comes speedily. But sometimes a small amount of air is allowed to permeate through the bricks, and in this case the torture is cruel and the agony prolonged. Men bricked up in this way have been heard groaning and calling for water at the end of three days. At other times the victim is placed in the pillar head first, and in this way he is walled up. The first time I saw these pillars was in the desert outside Yezd, and I could hardly believe the awful tales which were told me of the cruelties perpetrated; but alas, they were all too true! It is sad that the beauty of the desert should be desecrated by such things. CHAPTER XII PERSIAN MEDICAL MISSIONS [2] The need of them--Work in Isphahan--The "little devil" transformed into a boy--Amputation--Brothers in adversity--H.R.H. Zil-es-Sultan as a patient--Fanaticism overcome. "What restless forms to-day are lying, bound On sick beds, waiting till the hour come round That brings thy foot upon the chamber stair, Impatient, fevered, faint, till thou art there, The one short smile of sunshine to make light The long remembrance of another night." H. E. Hamilton King. "Medical Missions" need no apology or excuse. Even in the comparatively few years that have elapsed since their commencement, they have abundantly justified their existence, both from the missionary standpoint, and also as philanthropic agencies. If this be true for purely pagan lands, it applies even more accurately to work in Mohammedan countries. Medical missionary work is, without doubt, the golden key that unlocks the door of the heart of the most fanatical Moslem, be he Persian, Arab, Kurd, or Yezidee (devil worshipper). I write this deliberately, after eight years' experience in Persia, Palestine, and Mesopotamia. But in this book it is not meant specially to emphasise the missionary aspect of our life in these distant lands, but more to give a slight glimpse of native life as we found it, and the following, therefore, must be taken as notes from a doctor's diary, covering a period of eight years' work in Persia and Mesopotamia. The year 1900 found us at Isphahan. We were living in Julfa, the Armenian suburb of that great city, and I had temporary charge of the C.M.S. Medical Mission. The hospital at that period was simply a native house that had been adapted, more or less, for the requirements of a dispensary and hospital. There was no lack of work, patients coming from Isphahan itself, and from all the country round about. Soon after settling down to the routine work, a little Persian boy was brought to me from an outlying village by his father. He was about twelve years of age, and his face was badly disfigured from a "hare-lip." The Persians believe that this congenital malformation is the mark left by the foot of the Evil One, so this poor boy was known in his village by the unenviable title "little devil," and had been a good deal tormented by his playfellows. He was admitted to hospital, operated upon successfully, and after some ten days' careful treatment the dressing was finally removed, and I handed the boy a mirror that he might look for the first time upon his "new" face. As I watched his countenance while he regarded himself steadfastly in the glass, I was amply repaid for the time and trouble spent, by his look of joy, incredulity, and amazement. Tears of joy rolled down his face as he kissed my hand, and murmured brokenly, "I am no longer a little devil, I am no longer a little devil!" He could go back to his village now gladly, no longer fearing to join in the games of his comrades, and I feel sure he afterwards often posed as a hero in his little village, as, the centre of an admiring throng, he recounted the details of his visit, treatment, and cure at the Mission Hospital. In all Mohammedan lands, doctors always find it extremely difficult to persuade their patients to submit to amputation. However hopeless a condition the injured limb may be in, many would rather die than enter Paradise maimed. Some perhaps fancy that after death, when the prophet Mohammed comes to conduct them over that fragile bridge that leads to the "realm of the blest," he would indignantly repudiate the claims of an armless or legless disciple! However that may be, the fact remains that many a poor patient dies who might, by timely amputation, have recovered and lived for many years. But curiously enough, soon after our arrival in Julfa, I admitted, within a few days of each other, two Persians suffering from diseases of the legs necessitating amputation, and both, after much persuasion, agreed to the operation being performed. Both were men, and had been admitted to different wards, but as after-events proved, neither knew of the other's presence in the hospital: both thus believed that he was the only Mohammedan doomed to pass the rest of his life bereft of one leg, with the possible risk of non-admittance hereafter to the Moslem Paradise. The two amputations were duly performed, on different days; the amputated limbs being at once handed to the relatives for decent interment. Both patients made good recoveries, their progress being somewhat retarded by their continual lamentation over their irreparable loss. In due course of time, crutches were provided, and the two men were encouraged to practise walking with their aid. A day or two later I was standing at the door of the operation theatre, which opened into a corridor, with which both the men's wards communicated. Suddenly the doors of each ward opened simultaneously, and on the threshold stood these two men, leaning on their crutches, their faces a perfect picture as they beheld each other. Remember that, in some curious manner, neither had heard of the presence of the other in the hospital, and both firmly believed that he was the only Mohammedan that had ever submitted to the indignity of losing a limb, and lo and behold, here was a brother in affliction! Crutches were hurled on one side, and the two men, hopping across the corridor, excitement lending them the needed strength, fell into each other's arms, rolling over and over on the floor, weeping, condoling, exclaiming, while we watched the scene, highly amused, but also feeling inclined to weep in sympathy. The Governor of Isphahan was H.R.H. Zil-es-Sultan (Shadow of the King), elder brother of the late Shah. In former years he had been much more powerful, and practically ruled over Southern Persia, but his enemies in Teheran roused the suspicions of the Shah against him. He was summoned to the capital, and there kept a prisoner in his house, but ultimately allowed to return to Isphahan shorn of his former power. The Zil-es-Sultan had his own private physician, but would often call in the English doctor either for himself or his household; in this way I made his acquaintance, and, like most Europeans who have come in contact with him, admired both his shrewdness and ability. He always proved himself a good friend to the English mission, and later I got to know much more intimately his eldest son, H.H. Jalal-el-Dowleh, who was the able governor of Yezd, a city some three hundred miles eastward of Isphahan. Soon after reaching Julfa, I was sent for by the governor to examine his eyes. I found him in a garden outside the city, which he had just had constructed for a summer residence. He received me cordially, and, after the business part of the interview was over, chatted freely, telling me of all he had undergone at the hands of other physicians. A few years before, he had become alarmed about the state of his eyesight, and became possessed with the idea that he was gradually going blind. He believed himself to be suffering from a very hopeless eye disease, very prevalent in Persia, known as "black cataract" (glaucoma), and despite the assurance to the contrary given by Dr. Carr (the English doctor) and others, he persisted in sending for two eye specialists, one from Paris, the other from London. Both had thoroughly examined his sight, and had confirmed Dr. Carr's assurances that there was no disease, but his fears had put him to considerable expense, as both the specialists were treated right royally. Laughingly he told me how much he had dreaded the interview with the London specialist, and how the fateful day had at last come. The doctor had merely lightly placed his fingers on the eye, felt the tension, and then had smilingly assured His Royal Highness that there was no fear of glaucoma, a subsequent careful examination confirming this verdict. "And to think," pathetically added the governor, "that I had spent all those thousands of pounds for nothing!" Of course I at once suggested that to have had all his fears of blindness so happily set at rest more than compensated for any expense that he might have incurred, but he remained unconvinced. During the year we remained in Isphahan I had many opportunities of being received by the governor. He always treated me with the same kindness, and upon our departure for Kerman, presented me with a large signed photograph of himself. Isphahan is a great city that has passed through many vicissitudes: at one time it was the capital of Persia. Its population to-day is probably about 150,000. As in all Shiah (Mohammedan) lands, the priests (mullahs) possess great power. The Moslem archbishops are termed "mujtiheds." In each Persian city there are generally two mujtiheds, one official (Sheikh-es-Islam), the other elected by the people, and the latter, as a rule, possessed the greater influence. In 1900 the popular mujtihed was the eldest of three brothers, all mullahs. His power was very great--too great for the taste of the Shah, if one may credit rumour. Only a few days after our arrival, a carriage was sent for me, from the second brother of this mujtihed, who for many weeks had been anxiously looking forward to the arrival of an English "hakim," as he was suffering from a troublesome disease which might at any time develop serious symptoms. All these Isphahan mullahs had proved themselves hostile to the presence of foreigners, and on more than one occasion they had endeavoured, by preaching against them in the mosques, to inflame the populace and cause a riot. At the patient's house I was joined by another doctor (Dr. Aganoor), who was also the English Vice-Consul, and to whom we were indebted for many acts of kindness during our stay in Isphahan. The mullah was really his patient, and I was called in for consultation as to the advisability of operating. We were ushered into a large room with a fountain playing in the centre, and there we found the patient, supported by both his brothers, besides innumerable friends. We sat in solemn conclave for over an hour, discussing the pros and cons of the case, and then, having decided upon the course of treatment, we took our departure. Some days later we were again sent for, and found our patient in great pain, and the whole house crowded with his innumerable friends, who had hurriedly come together at the rumour of his approaching death. Our patient was in a very excited state, angrily refusing the consolation offered by his disciples and friends, and violently shouting, "A thousand tomans (£200) to any one who can take away this pain." Then, as he felt an extra bad twinge, "Ten thousand tomans to any one who will cure this pain" (about £2000). However, we soothed him, injected a little morphia, assured him there was no immediate danger, and as the sedative commenced to work, and the pain disappeared, with it went all thought of rewarding his benefactors: on the contrary, he took extra trouble to explain how poor a man he really was, and that it was due to the malice of his enemies that rumour reputed him wealthy. However, to cut a long story short, by means of a simple operation, and much patient care and attention on the part of Dr. Aganoor, he ultimately made a good recovery, and was really grateful, using his influence afterwards rather to restrain than augment the anti-European fanaticism of his other two brethren. Later a nephew of the chief mujtihed, himself a mullah, actually consented to come into hospital to undergo an urgently needed operation, and this proving successful, gained for us another staunch friend from priestly quarters, whose friendship stood us in good stead on another occasion which might have ended rather differently, but for his intervention. A few months had elapsed: rumours still reached us from the city of occasional attempts made to stir up the fanaticism of the people against us, the chief offender being the third and youngest brother of the mujtihed before mentioned. One day Dr. Aganoor and I were both sent for in a great hurry. We heard that the whole city was in an uproar, that this fanatical mullah had been poisoned, some said "by order of the Shah," others that the governor had asked him to a feast, and as he returned, ere reaching home, the symptoms had started; others that the women of his "anderoon" (quarter of the house in which no man but the husband may enter) had given him "oil of bitter almonds" by mistake. On approaching the house we found a crowd round the door, and the house itself packed with disciples and friends of the great man. We were hurriedly shown into a large hall, with marble pillars and floor, densely crowded with a mass of human beings, all engaged in watching the last gasps of the poor mullah, who was lying on a pile of carpets stretched on the marble floor. We learnt to our dismay that he had been unconscious for four hours, and apparently precautions had been taken that the English doctors should not be called in until that amount of time had elapsed. Before that intent, silent, fanatical crowd, we did all that could be done to save the life of the man who had been our bitter enemy, taking turns to perform artificial respiration, &c., but all in vain, for, as in my turn I worked the dying man's arms, he took his last breath, and I whispered Dr. Aganoor that all was over. It was getting towards midnight. Julfa was three miles distant, and we were alone in the midst of that fanatical crowd. Well did my colleague know that once the intimation was given that the end had come, the scene would baffle description; the whole city would be roused, and our lives might even be in danger; knowing these things, he whispered me to go on performing artificial respiration while he got ready to go. So I went on with my task, working the dead man's arms until all was ready for our instant departure. Then reverently folding his hands on his breast, I drew over his face the coverlet, as an intimation that all was over. I never again wish to hear such a yell as then arose from the throats of that great throng. Doors were flung open, the mob from without rushed into the room, women poured in belonging to the dead man's household, shrieking, wailing, tearing their clothes and hair. Some of them made a wild rush at us as they passed, and it really looked a bit serious, for already amidst the uproar we could detect occasional cries of "The Feringhis have poisoned him." To my relief, amidst the excited throng I noticed the face of my old friend the mujtihed's nephew, who had been an in-patient in the hospital, and when he noticed that I had observed him, he beckoned us to follow him. We obeyed gladly, and he led us away by a private passage, which finally emerged into a public square a long distance from the dead man's house. There our good Samaritan left us, promising to send us our horses and servants, whom we had left waiting outside the patient's house. As we waited for them to come, we could hear the sound of cries from all parts of the city, followed by wailing of women, and the scurrying of many feet, as all flocked to the quarter where the holy man's body lay. At last our servants and animals arrived, and we made haste to escape, reaching home after midnight, thankful to God for preserving us from what might have proved a very dangerous position. Next day we heard that the whole city had gone into mourning; all the bazaars were shut, and the shops draped with black, and this mourning was kept up five whole days. Rumours were persistently circulated that the English doctors had poisoned the mullah, but no one really believed it, and I was able to attend the city dispensary as usual, even during the funeral ceremonies, and patients rather increased than diminished, some of the dead man's relatives even coming for treatment. So ended priestly opposition; the chief mujtihed himself was frightened at the mode of his brother's death, and kept very quiet, for fear, perhaps, that a similar accident might happen to him. His surviving brother and relatives were now quite friendly, and a few years later Dr. Carr was able to obtain ground and build an excellent hospital in Isphahan itself, welcomed alike by officials and priests. There is also an excellent Women's Hospital (C.M.S.), in charge of Dr. Emmeline Stuart, who has for many years given her life to work amongst Moslem women, and whose name is held dear by many a poor Persian village woman, who has found relief and loving care at her hands, and those of her staff. CHAPTER XIII PIONEER MEDICAL MISSION WORK IN KERMAN [3] Pioneer Medical Mission work in Kerman--Waiting for drugs and instruments--Native assistant proves a broken reed--First operation in Kerman--An anxious moment--Success--Doctrine of "savab" convenient to the Moslem--Fanaticism tempered with prudence--Opium slaves--Persian therapeutics--Persian quacks and their methods--Sure way of curing cancer--Hysteria. "Charms for lovers, charms to break, Charms to bind them to you wholly, Medicines fit for every ache, Fever and fanciful melancholy." R. Bridges. We had been appointed to open a Medical Mission in this city, and as soon as our temporary residence in Isphahan was finished, proceeded to our original destination. We arrived at Kerman early in 1901, and received a hearty welcome from the only other European there--the Rev. A. R. Blackett, also of the Church Missionary Society. Two houses were secured, both outside the city wall; in one we took up our residence, while the other was made into a dispensary, and small temporary hospital. Unfortunately we arrived before our supply of drugs and surgical instruments, so we had to do our best with the very small stock of medicines borrowed from our stations in Isphahan and Yezd. However, patients began to come in large numbers, and the out-patient department was soon in full swing. We had brought with us from Isphahan two Armenians to act as assistants, one for dispensing, the other (a man who had been employed in the Mission for many years) to interpret and help generally in the work. I had hoped much from this last-named assistant, and had relied upon him greatly for advice and help, as he had been in Kerman before, and knew the people; but I soon found him a "broken reed." He was married and had a large family, which he had been obliged to leave behind in Isphahan, and very soon he began to show signs of home-sickness. Then he commenced to imagine himself ill, and developed symptoms of different ailments. In the first place he one day came to me with a woeful face, and besought me to carefully examine his chest, for he was convinced he was developing phthisis. After being reassured on this point, he became absolutely sure that he had heart disease; next his kidneys troubled him, and so on, until he became a confirmed hypochondriac, and completely useless for work. One day I remember his coming to me imploring that I would inject morphia to relieve him of the intense pain from which he was suffering. I gravely took the hypodermic syringe, and carefully injected distilled water, and the pain disappeared with lightning rapidity! However, I had to send him home, and I believe that, once safely reunited to his family, he at once lost all his symptoms, and was able to resume his old work at the hospital. In the meanwhile my surgical patients were clamouring for operations, more especially those afflicted with cataract. I had opened another dispensary in the city itself, and many poor blind people had come for treatment. It went to one's heart to have to send them away day after day with the same disheartening story. "The instruments have not yet come; until they arrive, nothing can be done." I fear that many commenced to think that the English doctor was a fraud, and that his excuses concerning the instruments resembled those framed by their own "hakims" to hide their own ignorance. At last the boxes actually arrived. They had to be brought by caravan from Bushire (the port in the Persian Gulf) to Kerman, viâ Shiraz and Yezd, a distance of some eight hundred miles, taking a couple of months. We admitted our first in-patient, a well-known merchant in the city, who had been blind for three years with cataract. The Persian surgeons also operate for this disease, using the old Eastern operation known as "couching." An incision is made into the white of the eyeball (without any anæsthetic), then a thick, blunt probe is worked into the interior of the eye, directed so as to dislocate the lens. If successful, the lens drops back into the posterior chamber of the eye, and the patient "sees," but alas, the vision obtained is, in ninety-eight cases out of a hundred, only temporary! Twenty-four hours later, inflammation of the eye supervenes, and the sight is gone, and the eye lost. Needless to say, the operator obtains his fee either before the operation is done, or during the few hours that his patient is rejoicing in his newly found vision; then if he is wise he disappears from the town, and resumes his practice elsewhere. However, during eight years' practice in the East, and having had the opportunity of examining thousands of eyes, I can remember two cases only where this operation had been done and there had been no subsequent inflammation, but the great majority of eyes are lost. Well, we had our first Kerman cataract patient, and it seemed to us as though the whole future of the little pioneer Medical Mission depended upon the success or failure of that operation. The day fixed for the operation arrived: a Persian doctor practising in the city had requested leave to be present, no doubt on behalf of the many friends of the patient, to report particulars and see fair play. The patient was brought in, looking exceedingly nervous. After a short prayer (a practice almost invariably adopted in medical missionary hospitals, and much appreciated by the patient, even though he be a fanatical Moslem), the operation was started. I am afraid we were all unduly nervous, the possible consequences for good or ill to the Mission assuming undue proportions. At any rate everything went wrong; the cocaine (used as the anæsthetic) would not work, the old man could not keep his eye still, and would look up when he was told to look down. I was only able to complete the incision, and that with the greatest difficulty; and fearing to proceed further, the patient getting more and more excited, I had reluctantly to postpone the operation for a couple of days. We all felt very depressed, except, perhaps, the Persian "hakim," who doubtless greatly relished the failure of the English doctor. However, two days later we tried again, the Persian hakim once more being amongst the spectators. Much prayer had been offered up that this time there might be no hitch. Everything at first went well; the patient lay quite quietly, moved his eye exactly as he was told, the cocaine proved satisfactory, the incision was remade, and other preliminary steps in the operation disposed of: then came the hitch. In the European method of operating for cataract, the opaque lens is extruded from the eye by gentle pressure, through the incision first made. Well, when the time came for the lens to be extruded, it would not budge! I tried all possible means of extraction without success (afterwards I discovered that adhesions had formed between the lens and the curtain of the eye, as a result of the first operation). The perspiration ran down my face, as I realised what this second failure meant, not so much for my own reputation, but the hindrance it would prove to the success of the work I loved. I glanced at my wife: she was looking very anxious. I looked at my assistants: their faces were pictures of dismay. They had seen me before in Isphahan do many a cataract, and could not imagine what had gone wrong. The Persian doctor looked particularly happy: he smiled as he politely expressed his sorrow that I was experiencing any difficulty in bringing the operation to a successful issue. It certainly was an awkward fix--perhaps the most awkward that I have ever been in; but as I lifted up my heart in silent prayer to God, asking for guidance, the thought flashed into my mind, "The man has both eyes blind: you have failed with the one; do the other at once, and it will prove successful." Gently covering the eye that had proved a failure, I explained matters to the patient, obtained his permission, thoroughly cleansed his other eye, and proceeded to operate, meeting with no difficulty and easily extracting the lens, to the palpable disappointment of my Persian medical friend, and was overjoyed to find that the patient old man had obtained exceedingly good vision. After a week the patient went back to his friends, seeing well, and full of gratitude for all the kindness and care he had received. I saw him some months later, and inquired whether he cared to let me have another try at the eye that had proved unsuccessful; but he refused, saying he was an old man, and had obtained good sight with the one, and did not need to see with the other. Of course the result of this first operation had been anxiously awaited by many, and since it proved successful, we soon had our little temporary hospital full, and had no further trouble in getting in-patients. I have described this case rather fully, avoiding technical terms as far as possible, as it illustrates fairly well the difficulties and responsibilities met with and tackled by pioneer workers, be they missionary or official. The Persians (especially the Kermanis) have a great idea of doing "savabs" (good works), hoping to reap their reward hereafter. This is common to the West as well as the East; but the Kermanis in addition hold a convenient doctrine, namely, the appropriation of the savabs of infidels for themselves! At least one of the chief mullahs in Kerman surprised me somewhat by the cordial reception he accorded me; but later said, "How glad he was that I had come to Kerman and was doing such 'good works' amongst the sick and poor, as hereafter God would credit the true Moslems with all the savabs done by infidels, who of course could derive no benefit at all from their performance." As Kerman is a city proverbial amongst the Persians for its great wickedness, I could understand the old mullah's satisfaction, as doubtless he felt that many of their savab accounts were rather low and needed a trifle of "credit," which might with advantage be obtained from the savabs of an infidel doctor! Once yearly the Persians celebrate the death of the martyrs Hassain and Hussein, as has already been described in a previous chapter. We had a good opportunity of witnessing this Persian Passion Play while in Kerman. The sword-dancers, clad in white garments, work themselves up into a frenzy, gashing their heads with the swords and sometimes inflicting severe wounds. A true believer is supposed to have his self-inflicted wounds healed spontaneously through the agency of Hazrati Ali (grandson of the prophet Mohammed); but I was a little amused by the appearance of several of these devotees at my out-patient clinique some days previous to the "celebration," all of them begging for a little English ointment to keep by them for use in case miraculous healing should be delayed. As has been already mentioned, the curse of Kerman is opium; everybody smokes or eats it--generally the former. The native doctors are partly responsible, as they recommend the drug as a "cure-all"; but even the cultured Kermani smokes opium, possibly to relieve the monotony of his life! Cases of poisoning repeatedly occur, and some of these we were called upon to treat. Our dispensary had a small garden attached to it, and when the Mission had gained the confidence of the people it was no uncommon sight to see several opium patients being treated at the same time in this garden. The treatment used, though somewhat vigorous, proved very effective. A man would arrive at the dispensary, escorted by an excited throng of relatives. On inquiry we would find that he had taken a big dose of opium to end his life: afterwards repenting, he had confessed to his relatives, and they had at once brought him to the English doctor. The treatment began with the administration of a strong emetic followed by repeated doses of strong coffee; then he would be handed over to the care of an attendant, with instructions to walk him round and round the garden and prevent his going to sleep. The native assistants and the patient's friends, armed with sticks, carried out these instructions, and at the first signs of languor exhibited by the unfortunate man he would be beaten and kept effectually awake! One day I was summoned in haste to the house of an influential Kermani; his only son, a child of two years, had been poisoned with opium. It is a common practice in Kerman for mothers to keep their babies from crying by giving them a little opium to suck. This boy's mother had given him a big lump by mistake, and grew alarmed when she found that all her attempts to wake him were ineffectual! On arriving at the house with my assistant, we had considerable difficulty in making our way into the courtyard, as it was thronged with all the relatives and friends; the neighbouring houses were crowded, a great multitude thronging the flat roofs, which commanded a good view of the courtyard belonging to the patient's father. On examining my little patient I found him nearly dead, exhibiting all the symptoms of an overdose of opium. However, for over an hour we worked away, washing out the child's stomach, injecting strong coffee, &c., all in the open air before the excited multitude, and gradually the little patient showed signs of recovery. When he had come completely round and was crying vigorously, there was great rejoicing. Thinking the opportunity too good a one to be lost, I asked my assistant to tell the father that God had heard prayer and restored him his child, and that we would now like him to join with us and thank God for answering our prayers, if he would tell the crowd what we intended doing. Although the father was a mullah, and had the reputation of being very fanatical in his hatred of Christians, he at once consented to our proposition, announcing to the crowd our intention. During the short thanksgiving prayer every head was bowed and not a sound of protest heard, while Christian and Moslem alike returned thanks to the great God who had heard and answered prayer. Medical Missions had once again won a triumph over Moslem fanaticism, and the scowls and threatening looks which had greeted our arrival were replaced by cordial thanks and vehement expressions of gratitude! Persian therapeutics are very simple, dating back to the time of Hippocrates. All diseases are divided into two classes--hot and cold--to be treated accordingly with hot or cold remedies. All foods are similarly classified. With this knowledge, plus a few Persian medical books and an appropriate turban, the native quack sets up as a doctor. His impudence and native wit are inexhaustible; he will cheer his patients with extracts from Hafiz or Ferdosi (the great Persian poets), talk learnedly of vapours, and have a specific for every mortal ailment. The quack physician is amusing, and probably confines himself to fairly harmless compounds; but the Persian surgeon is a man to be avoided at all costs. Of course, I am only here speaking of quacks; in Teheran there is a good medical school, and many of the graduates from that school proceed to Paris or Berlin, and return fully qualified to exercise their profession; but they also have to compete with these native quacks. I remember one case of a poor man brought to the dispensary with a big swelling on the left knee, which prevented his straightening the leg. Careful examination convinced me that the case was one of malignant cancer of the thigh bone, and that nothing could be done but amputation. This was explained to the patient and his father, who indignantly rejected the proposed operation. I lost sight of the man, but some weeks later one of my assistants asked me if I remembered the case; on my replying in the affirmative, he informed me that the patient had since died. It seems after leaving the dispensary the father had taken his son (a young man twenty years old) to a native surgeon (who combined the exercise of his profession most appropriately with the trade of a butcher) and asked his advice, saying the English doctor had advised amputation of the leg; but he had refused, as the swelling caused little pain, and all his son wanted was to be able to straighten his leg so that he might once again walk. "Oh," replied the butcher, "that's easily done; that English doctor knows nothing; I will cure him." So he got the father and other men to hold the unfortunate youth firmly and some other helper to seize the leg; then seizing a huge slab of stone in both his hands, he brought it down with all his force on the bent knee. The leg was straightened ... and needless to add, the poor patient only survived a few days. My wife has written quite sufficient about the Persian women to enable her readers to appreciate the monotony of their lives behind the veil. This is more especially true of the upper classes, who have no need to work for their living. In Kerman the usual result is that many of these poor women suffer from hysteria. I have often been called in to treat some of these patients, and have found them develop almost all the varying types of that curious disease; but one of the most interesting cases I ever remember occurred in Kerman. I had been treating the unmarried daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the city, and had prescribed for her some simple bismuth mixture, as she had complained of indigestion. Two days later her brother came galloping his horse to the dispensary, and demanded to see me immediately. He was greatly excited, and said that his sister had been taking the medicine I had prescribed for her and had suddenly gone blind. This was in the early days of the Medical Mission, and I was especially anxious to win the confidence of the people, so did not at all appreciate this complication. I assured the brother that I would return with him at once, and informed him that the medicine could not possibly have caused the blindness; but he was not at all appeased. Upon reaching the house I found all the family distracted with grief, and not at all inclined to be cordial. Moreover, they had called in a native eye-doctor, who had gravely announced that the blindness was most certainly due to the patient having taken the infidel's medicine! In order to reassure the parents I bade them bring the bottle of medicine, and, finding there were still two or three doses left, called for a glass, poured out the remainder, and drank it. This seemed to reassure them partially, so they allowed me to examine the girl. She was a nervous, highly-strung patient, and I had expected to find that she had been malingering; but to my surprise, upon thorough examination I convinced myself that she had really gone blind. Examination of the interior of the eyes showed no disease, and upon inquiry, finding that she was the subject of periodical hysterical attacks, I ventured to predict to the parents that with suitable care and supervision the girl would regain her sight. They were still inclined to be sceptical, but ten days later I heard that my prediction had come true and that she was quite cured. Similar cases of hysterical loss of vision are on record, but are exceedingly rare. Barely had we managed to get the little Medical Mission well started when circumstances connected with my wife's health arose that forced us to leave at a moment's notice the people we had learnt to love. Fortunately the work was not given up; another doctor succeeded me, and now there is a flourishing Medical Mission with two hospitals, one for men and the other for women patients, with a lady doctor and nurse; while the influence exerted by that Mission is felt throughout the whole of the great Kerman province, which stretches eastwards to the border of Beloochistan, and is bounded on the south by the Persian Gulf. CHAPTER XIV MEDICAL MISSION WORK IN YEZD [4] A hospital--A friendly governor--A suspicious case--Superstition--The opium habit--A case of cataract--We return to England. "By medicine life may be prolonged.... With the help of a surgeon he may yet recover." Shakespeare. The last of our three years' sojourn in Persia was spent in Yezd. Here there was already a small Mission Hospital, all the pioneer work having been done by Dr. White of the C.M.S. A wealthy Parsee merchant had presented the site for a hospital in the form of an old caravanserai (an Eastern inn). This had been gutted and made into a nice little hospital, with an out-patient department. Dr. White being on furlough, the doctor taking his place in Yezd exchanged with me, as it was hoped that my wife would be able better to stand the lower altitude of Yezd than the heights of Kerman. Yezd is an island city in a sea of sand. The waves, driven by the winds, surge against the city walls and threaten to engulf the whole place. At some parts of the wall, the drifted sand reaches almost to the level of the wall itself. The Governor of Yezd during the time we lived there was H.R.H. Jalal-el-Dowleh, the eldest son of the Prince-Governor of Isphahan (the Zil-es-Sultan). The Jalal-el-Dowleh had the reputation, like his father, of being a strong man, and ruled with a firm hand. He had already proved a good friend to the Mission, and was accustomed to pay a state visit once yearly to the hospital, where, after being entertained at the doctor's house, he would proceed to make a very thorough tour of inspection, and before leaving would hand the English doctor a sealed envelope containing the munificent sum of £40 as a donation. During our stay in Yezd we saw a good deal of the governor, and I had to add to my duties those of court physician. In Yezd, as in other Persian cities, there are many quacks, who not unnaturally resent the presence of a European doctor. I had not been long in the city before I made the acquaintance of some of these gentry, in a somewhat dramatic manner. Early one morning I was hurriedly called to the house of the chief native doctor, as his brother had been taken seriously ill. On entering the patient's room, I found it crowded with his friends, the patient himself lying upon a mattress placed on the ground. One glance at the patient sufficed: he was dead, and had apparently been so for some hours. When I announced the fact to the brother, he became very angry, and assured me that I was mistaken. He begged me to pour some medicine down the man's throat, or to do something to rouse him, as he had only fainted! Upon further inquiry, I found that he had been poorly for some days, and his brother had been treating him. My suspicions were aroused, as the brother and his friends crowded round me, imploring that English medicines should be tried, and after further careful examination only served to confirm my first opinion, I refused absolutely to comply with their entreaties, and left the house with my assistant. The brother and some of his friends pursued us, offering large fees if only we would give some medicine, absolutely refusing to accept my verdict. It is a necessary custom in Persia and the East generally, to bury a dead body within a few hours of death, but we heard that the brother refused to allow this corpse to be buried for three whole days, alleging that the English doctor was mistaken: however, in the end they were obliged to bury him. The native doctor was strongly suspected of having poisoned his brother, and this doubtless accounted for the urgent manner in which he begged me to pour something down the dead man's throat, so that he could accuse me of being responsible for his death. All Persians are superstitious, and are great believers in goblins and 'jinns.' One day a young man was brought to me suffering from an acute attack of chorea (St. Vitus' dance). He was well educated, and had been employed as a clerk in a merchant's office: now he was unable to hold a pen in his hand, and exhibited all the symptoms of the disease in a very marked degree. He was promptly admitted to hospital, and discharged cured in a few weeks. According to his own statement the cause of the attack was as follows. He had gone for a walk in the desert outside the city after his day's work was over, and had wandered on further than usual. Suddenly he came across an old well, and round the well were numbers of hideous dwarf-like goblins pelting each other with stones. When they saw him they crowded round laughing, jeering, pulling his clothes, and then began to pelt him with stones. He turned and fled, running the whole way back to the city, and to this shock he attributed the commencement of his symptoms. In my last chapter I referred to the prevalence of the opium habit in Kerman, but we found many addicted to it also in Yezd. So much was this the case, that I started admitting some of those who expressed a desire to give up the habit into the hospital, submitting them to a special treatment, with very good results. It was a curious sight to see these patients grouped together in the ward, smoking their carefully weighed out amount of opium, which was gradually reduced day by day, until they could go without altogether. The opium habit is in truth a curse, but upon one occasion I really believe it greatly helped to save a man's life. It happened in this way. A well-known merchant in Yezd was found in his house apparently sleeping. His women-folk, unable to rouse him, became alarmed, and sent for me. I found the patient unconscious, exhibiting every symptom of belladonna poisoning. An excited crowd, as usual, collected, watching us as we tried every possible means of saving the poor fellow's life. Strychnine and morphia had been injected, cold water poured on his face, all without avail: there was no sign of returning consciousness. A happy thought struck me. Turning to some of the men in the crowd, I asked whether they were opium-smokers. Three or four somewhat shamefacedly acknowledged that they did a little, so I ordered them to bring a pipe and a little of the drug. Then I made them sit round the patient's body, take the pipe in turn, and as they smoked, puff out the smoke into the patient's face, occasionally blowing it into his nostrils, and down his throat. I confess that I had but little hope of any good result, but what was my delight and surprise, after about a quarter of an hour's perseverance in the treatment, to see unmistakable signs of recovery in the patient's face. His widely dilated pupils began to contract, and soon he returned to consciousness and was able to sit up. On the following day I found him quite well, and thoroughly enjoying the sensation that his marvellous recovery had made in the city. Hundreds of people had been to see him, and I am a little afraid that the value of the opium as a "cure-all" was not diminished by the incident! We had quite a number of cataract patients in the hospital, many coming several days' journey for operation. A small hospital for women had been started, and a lady doctor had been sent to take charge. The first case admitted was an old lady with cataract. When the day arrived for the operation, everything went well at first, but in the middle of the operation the patient started up screaming. She said she had seen a snake, and she thought it was going to bite her. Her vision cost her dearly, the operation necessarily being spoilt, and the eye lost, but unfortunately it also kept away other patients suffering from the same disease, but only for a short time, the lady doctor soon winning their confidence, and finding more work on her hands than she could comfortably get through. After a very happy year in Yezd, my wife's health still remaining unsatisfactory, we were obliged to leave Persia, and return to England for a short rest. Both of us were grieved at having to leave a country and people that we had learnt to love, and amongst whom we had hoped to spend our lives. Medical Missions in Persia have already worked wonders, breaking down opposition, winning friends even amongst the most fanatical. Here is not the place to speak of results, neither would it be wise to do so, but I would like once for all definitely and decisively to repudiate the oft-quoted statement, often made, unfortunately, by Christians who should be better informed, "that it is impossible for a Mohammedan to become a Christian." With God all things are possible! PART II CHAPTER I THE CITY OF NINEVEH The city of Nineveh--The fast of Jonah--The bridge of boats--Traditions as to ancient history of Mosul--Alkosh, birthplace of Nahum the prophet--Shurgât--Climate of Mosul--Cultivation and industries--Importance of Mosul. "A ruin, yet what ruin! from its mass Walls, palaces, half cities have been reared. Heroes have trod this spot--'tis on their dust ye tread." Byron. "Nineveh, an exceeding great city of three days' journey." The ancient city of Nineveh, the former capital of the Assyrian Empire, is situated on the eastern bank of the river Tigris. Little is to be seen to-day of the once famous city but huge mounds of earth which cover the site of this historical and interesting place. There are two principal mounds, separated from each other by a small rivulet. The larger of these is called Kouyunjik, the smaller Nabbi Eunice. The former contains the ruins of the palace of Sennacherib, before whom Jonah stood and delivered his message; but nothing now remains to tell of its former glory and wealth. When we first visited the spot over three years ago, there was one huge man-headed lion remaining, and a few pieces of sculpture representing fish swimming in water, &c. But now even these have disappeared, for about eighteen months ago the Turkish Government sold all the visible remains of Nineveh for the enormous sum of two Turkish liras (36s.)! the buyer grinding everything to powder, including the huge statue, for purposes of building! Nineveh is best seen to-day at the British Museum or the Louvre, Paris, as both of these places contain many interesting and valuable remains of that city. Nineveh was closed to excavators about four years ago, but it is hoped that investigations will be renewed again in the near future, as there still remain thirteen rooms of the palace to be examined. The other and smaller mound, known as Nabbi Eunice (Prophet Jonah), was once the site of a church named after the prophet, on account of the tradition that he preached upon that spot. The church stands to this day, but is used as a mosque, as it now belongs to the Moslems, who venerate the place as being the tomb of the prophet. They accept the whole story of Jonah's mission to Nineveh and the adventures he encountered en route, as we have it recorded in Holy Scripture. It is an interesting fact, too, that year by year the inhabitants of Mosul, Christians and Moslems alike, keep in remembrance the three days of fasting and repentance mentioned in the Book of Jonah. The fast is still kept for three days, by some very strictly, while others keep it from sunset to sunset, only eating once a day. Every one may please herself as to the severity of her fasting, but almost all join in the remembrance of those three memorable days in the history of Nineveh. "Herself" is used advisedly, as it is especially kept by women who are seeking some particular gift from God, and they will often fast absolutely for the three days, not even allowing a drop of water to touch their lips. They hope by so doing that God will hear their prayers, even as He answered the petitions of the Ninevites of old. The memory of Jonah is perpetuated, too, in Mosul by parents naming their boys after the prophet, Eunice being quite a favourite name amongst Christians, Moslems, and Jews. The tomb of Jonah is guarded very zealously by the Mohammedans against the Christians, and it is very difficult for the latter to gain admission to the interior of the building. A friend staying with us in Mosul was very anxious to see the tomb, so we rode over to Nabbi Eunice one day, but the mullah in charge politely but firmly refused us permission to enter beyond the portal! Kouyunjik is now a favourite place for picnics from Mosul, and in the early spring a day spent amongst the old ruins of Nineveh is very delightful. It is too hot in summer, as there is no shade. From the top of the mounds we have a beautiful view of Mosul, with the Tigris in the foreground and the mountains stretching away on either side. It is not considered safe for any one to wander about alone on the mounds; the natives will never go there alone after dusk. Some years ago two Europeans who were passing through Mosul visited Nineveh by themselves. As they were rambling over the old remains, one said to his companion, "I am going round there," indicating a projecting piece of marble. His companion waited and waited, and as his friend did not return went in search of him, but not a sign of him could be seen. After seeking in every possible place without success, he returned to Mosul to institute a search party, but all efforts proved fruitless, and to this day nothing has been discovered as to the fate of this man. Whether he fell down some disused shaft or was carried off by Arabs is not known, and probably will always remain a mystery. Mosul is connected with Nineveh by an old bridge of boats, which probably existed in the days of Jonah. There are twenty-one or twenty-two of these old-fashioned flat-bottomed boats, fastened together by heavy chains, a platform of wood being laid from boat to boat and the whole covered with earth. This part of the bridge is movable, and is connected at one end with the mainland by a permanent stone bridge consisting of thirty-three arches. In the spring, when the rush of water is very strong consequent upon the snow melting in the mountains, it is loosened at one end and allowed to swing with the current. Sometimes, however, the river rises suddenly, carrying the bridge away and playing havoc with the banks. When this takes place it is very difficult to replace the bridge. Often for weeks together the bridge is not open, and all traffic across the river has to be conveyed by boats, the owner of the ferries reaping a golden harvest. The toll of the bridge is taken by a man who rents it from the Government. He is said to be one of the richest men in Mosul. Foot passengers are allowed to pass freely, but all four-footed beasts have a small charge levied on them ranging from a halfpenny to twopence, and carriages are charged half a mejideh (1s. 8d.). As some thousands of camels, mules, and donkeys are continually passing to and fro, it is no wonder that the toll-collector is a rich man. I am not at all fond of riding across this bridge; it is not very wide, and camels jostle you on one side with their huge burdens, donkeys and mules vie with each other in trying to pass on the other, quite oblivious of the fact that there is no room; while underneath the river rushes madly on. Altogether, I always heave a sigh of relief when the opposite bank is safely reached. There are many traditions as to the probable origin of Mosul, but its true early history is involved in obscurity. The following has been gleaned from some of the many traditions circulated amongst its inhabitants. Mosul is said to have been built some four thousand years ago, and was then a small village consisting of a few houses built of mud. This village was believed to be the fourth village built after the Flood. About four days' journey from Mosul there is a mountain called Judy, on which the ark is supposed to have rested after the Flood. The natives living near this mountain say it must be Mount Ararat, because close by grows the only olive tree for miles around! and also they have in their possession enormous wooden nails said to have been used in the construction of the ark! These nails were found on the mountain many years ago. At the foot of this mountain lies a village which claims to have the honour of being the first built after the Flood. Quite near by is another small town called Jezirah, which is said to have been the second village to spring into existence, while some village in Egypt takes the third place, and Mosul the fourth! If these traditions are to be trusted, then Mosul has indeed a right to be termed ancient. Some 1260 years ago Omar el Khattab the Calipha conquered Jerusalem and Damascus, and then turned his attention to Mosul. He sent down one of his chiefs named Eyath, son of Ghoonum, to besiege Mosul, with orders to convert the city to Mohammedanism at all costs, if necessary at the point of the sword. Many of the inhabitants at that time were Parsees, belonging to the old fire-worshipping religion; others were called "Charamika," but no trace of their belief has been found. These and many others were converted to Mohammedanism by the strong argument of the sword. In the twelfth century Mosul had a sovereignty of its own, a brother of the Sultan of Damascus then reigning over this province. In 1180 it withstood the armies of the famous Saladin, who was a native of a town some five days' ride from Mosul. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries it suffered defeat from the hands of its enemies, and in 1743 Nadir Shah of Persia bombarded the town for forty days. Since then Mosul has suffered much from time to time through various causes--from the cruelties of some of its governors, from a famine caused by the crops being utterly destroyed by locusts, and also from the plague which visited it in 1831 and left the town almost a desert. It is stated that 100,000 people perished at that time from this terrible scourge. The walls surrounding Mosul are very old. They were built, in the first instance, about 2000 years ago by a man named Marvan, one of the kings of a tribe called "Umayya." They were repaired 170 years ago by Hadji Hussein Pasha, one of the Abdul Jaleel family. They are now in many places fast falling into ruin, and are in great need of restoration. These walls are pierced by about twelve gates, which are shut at sunset or soon after. About five hours' journey from Mosul is the little village of Elkosh, believed by many to have been the birthplace of the prophet Nahum, and also the scene of his life-work and burial. This village, now inhabited by Chaldeans, is reverenced by Moslems and Christians alike, but more especially is it looked upon as a holy place by the Jews. There is a synagogue in which is supposed to lie the tomb of the prophet; to this the Jews flock for the yearly pilgrimage, having done so from time immemorial. Kalah Shurgât is another interesting place, situated two days' journey from Mosul. It consists of an old Assyrian ruin, said to be the remains of the ancient city of Asshur. The Germans have been excavating there for some years, and are doing it very thoroughly. The whole ground floor of the palace and temple are laid bare, and are in a wonderful state of preservation. One of the excavators pointed out to us the "bathroom" of the palace, running through which was a mono-rail, evidently having been constructed for the purpose of conveying water from the reservoir to the bath. This tram-line must have been one of the first ever invented! It was simply a groove cut in the marble floor, on which probably a one-wheeled trolley ran. The climate of Mosul is a very variable one, the summers being excessively hot and the winters cold. During the hot months all the inhabitants sleep at night on their roofs, starting about the 1st of June, and continuing to do so for five months, or till the first rains come. Many of the houses are provided with "sirdâbs" or underground rooms, for use during the middle part of the day. The marble from which most of the houses are built retains the heat of the sun so long that they do not cool down in the evenings; on account of this, as the summer wears on, the houses become almost unbearable with accumulated heat. For this reason we generally try to go away somewhere for a month's holiday in August or September. There are no cool places near Mosul, and to find a suitable summer retreat it is necessary to go three or four days' journey. For two years we only went to a large house about three miles from Mosul, kindly lent us by a patient of my husband's. Here the heat was intense during the day, but the evenings were delightfully cool as a rule, for the river ran at the foot of the garden. The winters in Mosul are often very cold. Two years ago the Tigris was nearly frozen over, and for three days the only water we could obtain was from melted snow. The cold was so severe that men died as they sat at their work. While such cold weather lasted it was impossible to keep the patients in the hospital, as having no stoves in the wards we were not able to warm them sufficiently. But this was a record winter, there having been no such frost for one hundred and fifty years. Spring and autumn are beautiful seasons in Mosul, especially, perhaps, the former. During March, April, and part of May the land for many miles around Mosul is green with waving corn--a refreshing sight for weary eyes. When the grass is about a foot in height, all the inhabitants pitch tents outside the town and spend their days there. Those who have horses tether them in front of their tents, and allow them to eat grass to their hearts' content. A friend lent us a tent last year, and for a month or six weeks we enjoyed the luxury of green scenery! Every day some of our congregation were able to get out, each of us taking our turn at providing afternoon tea. It was such a relief to get away from the heat of the city walls, and to enjoy, if only for a short time, the lovely fresh air of the corn-fields! The autumn days are very pleasant too, but as a rule this season is only too short. The summers last till the rains begin, and then almost at once cold weather sets in. The most trying part of the whole year comes towards the end of summer, when the clouds "come up." It is very marvellous the way the natives can tell, almost to a day, when to expect the first clouds. They generally last from ten to twelve days, and the relief is great when they depart. On the whole the climate of Mosul seems to be a healthy one. At certain times of the year malarial fever is very prevalent, but, "alhamd'llillah!" neither of us have ever contracted it. The highest degree of heat registered in the coolest part of our house is 110°, but the average heat of the three hottest months is about 98° to 105°. Three to four months of this kind of heat is generally quite enough! The land round Mosul is cultivated to a great extent, corn being the chief product. The success of the crops, however, is entirely dependent upon the winter and spring rains. Should the rainfall be great, the harvest is abundant; but if the season is a dry one, then the result is disastrous. Mr. Layard speaks of one such occasion when, during the whole of the winter and spring, no rain fell. As a consequence of this, the crop failed and famine ravaged the land. This famine is still spoken of in Mosul as something never to be forgotten, and many events are marked as dating from "the famine." Some are not ashamed to own that they made their fortunes during that awful time, by storing corn and then selling it at famine prices; while others, who had been prosperous merchants till that year, were then rendered penniless, and have never been able to retrieve their fortunes. There are a few rude wheels constructed along the banks of the Tigris for the purpose of irrigation; but as these are highly taxed by the local government, they are by no means general. This mode of raising water is very simple but expensive, as it requires the labour of several men and at least two animals, either oxen or mules. Gardens near the town are irrigated in this way, either by drawing water from the river or from deep wells, but the great stretch of land sown with corn is dependent for its nourishment on the rainfall. Cotton is also grown and exported. Melons, cucumbers, and tomatoes are cultivated very largely, and as the river recedes in the summer, the moist bed is sown with water-melon seeds, which flourish splendidly in the damp soil. Fruit is largely grown in the mountains, and brought down on donkeys. Apricots are very abundant; cherries, plums, peaches are less plentiful. The best apples are brought from Damascus; they look good, but are flavourless. Grapes are very largely cultivated, and are brought to great perfection. The large black kind are very delicious; there is also a white grape which has a very sweet flavour. Vegetables of all kinds are grown in the gardens near Mosul: beans, peas, spinach, carrots (red), beetroot, onions, artichokes, as well as many other varieties. Potatoes are brought from Persia, and sometimes suffer so much from the long journey that they are only fit to be thrown away when they reach Mosul. Last winter several hundreds of sacks of potatoes were thrown into the river at Mosul, as they had been frostbitten on the journey from Persia, and so were useless. "Manna" is found in the mountains, and is collected and sent to Mosul, where it is made into a sweetmeat called "halawwi." The industries of Mosul are chiefly spinning and weaving. A very strong kind of cotton cloth is woven, also calico and woollen goods. Many years ago this industry was much larger than it is at present, and in those days Mosul gave its name to muslin, a fabric exported by the French from that town in the last century. Weaving is done by men, while the women do the spinning and dyeing of the cotton or wool. Weaving is a very favourite occupation, as the weaver can do just as much or as little as he likes, being paid accordingly. For this reason a man who is inclined to be lazy would much rather be a weaver than a servant. Furs are largely exported from Mosul. The skin of the fox is most common, but there is another fur much resembling the sable which is highly prized amongst the natives, a coat lined with this fur costing something like £50. Some years ago furs could be bought quite cheaply in Mosul, but the merchants finding a good market for their goods in Europe, the prices soon went up, and now even fox is becoming expensive. The industries of Mosul are not what they were, but we trust better days are coming, when the old prosperity of the town will be renewed and increased. The three great questions now under consideration with regard to the land of Mesopotamia will have great influence on the future of Mosul. The first is the navigation of the Tigris from Baghdad to Mosul. This, when an accomplished fact, will make a great difference in the export and import trade of the city. The Baghdad railway will also greatly increase the importance of Mosul, for the line running through it will bring the East in close touch with the near West. Perhaps the most important subject of all in connection with the future of Mosul is that of the irrigation of Mesopotamia, which, once accomplished, will turn the whole of that vast desert into a garden. The means to be employed for this end are simply the reviving of the old Assyrian method of irrigation. This method consisted in the digging of canals to intersect the land between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates. Maps of these same canals are still to be seen in the British Museum and other places, and are of great interest. These great canals, made in the prosperous days of the Assyrian Empire, are now choked up, after having been in use for many centuries by the inhabitants of the country. Layard, in his "Discoveries at Nineveh," says, "Herodotus describes the extreme fertility of Assyria and its abundant harvests of corn, the seed producing two and three hundred-fold"; and adds later, "But in his day the Assyrians depended as much upon artificial irrigation as upon the winter rains. They were skilful in constructing machines for raising water, and their system of canals was as remarkable for its ingenuity as for the knowledge of hydraulics it displayed." Since the result of irrigation in those ancient days was two to three hundred-fold, surely if carried out to-day with the additional knowledge of modern science and experience the ground would yield an even larger return. It has been estimated that £8,000,000 would be sufficient to reopen all the old canals of Mesopotamia, with the certainty that the land thus irrigated would yield an abundant profit. "Ensha'allah," this much-talked-of scheme will soon be carried out, and Mesopotamia become once more "a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of olive oil and of honey." CHAPTER II THE PEOPLE OF MOSUL Population--Moslems--Christians--Chaldeans--Nestorians--Jacobites --Arabs--Kurds--Jews--Yezidees--Recreations--Warfare of the slingers--Hammam Ali--The recreation ground of Mosul men and women. "... The world is great, But each has but his own land in the world." A. C. Swinburne. The population of Mosul has been estimated to be anything between sixty and eighty thousand people. If the whole "vilayet" is included the number will be something like a million and a half. These people are made up of many different nationalities and tribes, each retaining its own leading characteristics, whilst many have a language peculiar to themselves. The inhabitants of Mosul are chiefly Arabs, of whom by far the larger part are Mohammedans. These of course form the strong religious element in the city, as they are the conquerors of the land. This is a fact, too, which they take care never to lose sight of. In the market, the mosque, and the street, the Mohammedan is always proclaiming by look, word, and deed that he is the master. A Christian finds himself at a great disadvantage in the market, for when buying from a Moslem he is not allowed to handle the food, and must purchase his goods to a great extent on trust. In all mosques, which once were Christian churches, it is customary for the mullah to preach with a naked sword in his hand. This is done in order to remind the people that the Mohammedan religion was propagated by the sword, and must, if necessary, be retained by the same means. In the streets the difference is very marked between the two, the Mohammedan behaving as if the whole place belonged to him, while the Christians, and more especially the Jews, always appear as if they were apologising for their very existence. The Moslems are the rulers, and they make their power felt. An amusing instance illustrating this feeling occurred a short time ago. A little Moslem boy was walking through the street on his way to our house when, apparently without any provocation, a Christian girl began to revile him as he passed. The boy instantly turned on the girl and gave her a thrashing. I did not hear anything of this for some days, and then only in an indirect way. Some one told me that the boy had received a severe beating from the master of the school which he was attending, and on asking the reason of the punishment was told the foregoing story. I am very fond of the boy, he is such a dear, bright little chap, with great wondering eyes. Upon hearing the history of his encounter with the girl, I sent for the boy, and tried to tell him how wrong it was for a man to strike a woman. "But," said the boy, quite innocently, "she was a Christian!" Thus early in life is instilled into the young mind of the Moslem his inherent right to act the tyrant. On the other hand, it is a strange truth that Moslems very often prefer to have Christian servants in their houses, as they find they are more faithful. In many hareems the "slaves," or girls who have been bought for life, are very often children of Christian parents, who have been willing for a few pounds to sell their girls. The reverse of this is also true, that Christian families often find that a Moslem servant is more trustworthy than one of their own religion. A few months ago I heard of a little black boy in Mosul, whose mother, a Moslem negress, was anxious to find him a home. We offered to take the boy and bring him up, but the mother absolutely refused our offer, as we were Christians, and she was afraid her boy might become the same, as he was then only one year old, and had not yet learnt to hate the Christians! There are some 15,000 to 20,000 Christians in Mosul, who are said to date their conversion back to the time of St. Adday, who was a disciple of St. Thomas; others migrated from Baghdad to Mosul at the time of the Caliphas. These Christians have remained firm to the religion of their forefathers in spite of much persecution and many trials. To-day in Mosul there are many different sects of Christians to be found, viz. the Chaldean, Syrian, Nestorian, Jacobite, Armenian, and Greek. The Chaldeans in Mosul now entirely belong to the Romish Church, having been admitted to that body about a hundred years ago by means of the Dominican Mission who started work amongst these ancient Christians. They have their own bishop and archbishop, the Patriarch making Mosul his headquarters since 1256. The Nestorians are the true Chaldeans, and repudiate the name Nestorian. They live amongst the mountains, have resisted all efforts of the Romish Church, and remain true to the faith of their fathers. They, in common with the other Christians, date their Christianity from the time of the Apostles as the converts of St. Thomas. They refuse to accept Nestorius, the Patriarch of Constantinople, as their founder, saying that he was a Greek, while they were Syrians. They assert that "he did not even know our language, and so how could he have propagated his doctrines among us?" and they also declare that their religion was an established fact long before Nestorius was born. They have their own Patriarch, who resides near Van, a distance of ten days from Mosul. They regard the Pope and his followers with feelings of great hatred, and are said to curse him and his forefathers regularly every day. In answer to a message from the Pope urging reconciliation with Rome, the Patriarch sent the following answer: "I shall never become a Roman Catholic, and should you ever induce my people to do so, I would sooner become a dervish or a mullah than degrade myself by an alliance with the Pope." The Patriarch of the Nestorians is not allowed to marry; he is also compelled to be a strict vegetarian. When it is thought advisable to nominate a successor to the archbishopric, the wife of a near relative (if possible, a brother) of the then Patriarch is chosen as the possible mother of the future dignitary. She is set apart as holy till the birth of her child, her diet meanwhile being strictly vegetarian. If the child proves to be a boy, he is solemnly dedicated to God from his birth, and is never allowed to touch meat or flesh of any kind. Should the child unfortunately be a girl, the choice has to be made again, and great is the disappointment of the mother, the honour of being the mother of a Patriarch being much coveted and prized. In 1843 these people suffered a terrible massacre at the hands of the Kurds; 10,000 of them are said to have perished, and after being hunted from place to place the Patriarch finally fled for refuge to the English Consulate at Mosul. The Jacobite section of the Christian Church in Mosul is a small one, and so far remains firm to its old faith, resisting all attempts by the Church of Rome to effect a union. It, too, has its own bishop in Mosul, but the Patriarch resides in Mardin, where he has many thousands of adherents. He pays periodical visits to his scattered flock in Mosul and the surrounding country. They trace the origin of their name to one Jacob Baradæus, a Reformer who arose in the sixth century, and refusing to follow the lead of the other Syrians in joining the Romish Church, continued in the old faith, which has since been called by his name (an alternative name being the Old Syrian Church). The population of Mosul also consists of Arabs, Kurds, Yezidees, and Jews. The Arabs are the original inhabitants of the desert, who date their descent back to the time of Shem, the son of Noah. They are divided into many tribes, of which the most important in Mesopotamia is that of the great Shammar clan, who are to be found in all parts. There are three classes of Arabs, namely, those who have settled down in one place and become town Arabs, such as the inhabitants of Mosul: the wandering tribes of the desert or Bedouins, who live in tents and whose occupation is sheep farming: a third class of Arabs are the robbers of the desert, who subsist solely by plunder, and roam the desert seeking for a livelihood by any means that may come to their hand. The wandering tribes find it very hard to settle down to a fixed abode after the free life of the desert, and they prefer often to suffer pain and inconvenience rather than spend a few days or weeks beneath a roof and within the walls of a hospital. A story is told of a Bedouin lady of the seventh century, whose husband rose afterwards to be one of the Caliphs. When taken to Damascus to live in luxury and state, she pined for the freedom of the desert, and gave utterance to her loneliness in the following verses:-- "A tent with rustling breezes cool Delights me more than palace high, And more the cloak of simple wool Than robes in which I learned to sigh. The crust I ate beside my tent Was more than this fine bread to me; The wind's voice where the hill-path went Was more than tambourine can be." [5] Arab women have come to the hospital from time to time, but they always long to return to their desert life, and are impatient at the restraints of town life. The Kurds are a warlike people inhabiting the mountains round Mosul. They are the descendants of the wild people of the mountains mentioned by Xenophon as the Karduchi, who so severely harassed the Greeks during their retreat. In later years they were known as the Parthians, who opposed the Romans. From this people came the celebrated Saladin, the opponent of Richard Coeur de Lion in the crusading days. The Kurds have been compared to the old Scottish Highlanders, who were noted for their devotion to their chiefs. A well-known writer, in speaking of this trait in the character of these people, says that once he heard the following story: "A chieftain having died, one of his followers, who was standing on the roof of his house when the news of his master's death was brought to him, exclaimed, 'What! is the Beg dead? Then I will not live another moment,' and immediately threw himself from the roof and was dashed to pieces." A few of these Kurds are Nestorians, but the majority of them are Moslems, and are a very fierce-looking set of people. They carry as a rule large daggers in the waistband, and are quite capable of using them when necessary. We once had a servant who was a Kurd, and although as a rule a peaceable man, he often longed to be off when he heard of any fighting going on in his country. He used to boast to the other servants of the many people he had robbed and murdered! but said of course he would never harm us, as we were in the place of father and mother to him. We are quite hoping to secure his services again on our return to Mosul. There are about two thousand Jews in Mosul, who date their descent from the time of the Captivity. When Cyrus issued his decree allowing all Jews to return to their native land, about fifty thousand of those living in Mesopotamia joyfully availed themselves of this permission, but a few preferred to remain in their adopted land, and their descendants are there to this day. In spite of much persecution, they have remained firm in their belief. Mohammed quite hoped at first that the Jews would easily be converted to Mohammedanism. He therefore instructed all his followers to turn their faces towards the temple at Jerusalem when praying, but before many months he saw that his hopes in this direction were doomed to disappointment. He therefore withdrew his former instructions, and ordained that in future all Mohammedans should turn to the Ka'aba at Mecca when engaged in prayer. The Jews in Mosul are looked down upon and despised by Christian and Moslem alike. In the dispensary it is sad to see with what loathing the Jews are treated. The scornful way in which the word "Yahudi" (Jew) is hurled at these people is enough to make one's heart ache for them. If there is anything degrading to be done, a Jew is the only one to be found willing to do it. The Jews are the shoe-blacks of Mosul. It being considered very degrading to clean boots and shoes, the Jew undertakes this task, receiving payment at the rate of about 1/4d. a pair. It is a wonderful sight to see all these different nationalities--Moslems, Christians, Jews, Kurds, Arabs, Devil Worshippers--all sitting down together in the waiting-room of the dispensary while waiting their turn to see the doctor. It reminds one of the picture of Peace, in which the artist depicts the lion, the leopard, and the wolf living in harmony with the lamb. I am afraid the resemblance is only superficial, for in the hearts of that rude miscellaneous throng there is little of peace, and much of anger, wrath, jealousy, hatred, and murder. The dwellers in the desert and mountain would scorn the idea of passing the time in recreations of any kind, but the town gentlemen much enjoy a little relaxation from their arduous (?) labours. Riding and racing are much in vogue in Mosul. Just outside one of the gates is a long, level stretch of land, uncultivated, which is used by the sporting part of the population for racing. Betting is not a part of the programme. Any one who possesses a horse is at liberty to enter it for the races; and every Thursday afternoon a large conclave of people may be seen watching the performance with great interest. Horse dealers who have horses for sale race their animals with the hope that they will carry off the palm, in which case the value of the horse is considerably raised. A few of the Mosul men go in for hunting, but it is not a favourite pastime. My husband sometimes goes with some of the Begs, who are fond of hawking. The boys much enjoy slinging, and some of them are quite experts at it, at times their aim being rather too accurate. The spring is the season for slinging, and hundreds of boys may be seen outside the town on a fine day armed with these instruments of torture. They line up along the walls of the city, and take aim at every passer-by. This is somewhat disconcerting, especially when some little boy takes a shot at your horse's head or tail, a game of which the animal does not at all approve. Or sometimes the boys form armies, each opposing side being composed of an equal number of slingers. They stand at a distance of about fifty yards apart and commence warfare in real earnest. It is rather a terrible ordeal to have to run the gauntlet of these two opposing armies. The stones seem to whizz round one's head in a most alarming manner; but although my mare has received a few stray shots of which she much disapproved, yet I have fortunately never actually been hit. Occasionally boys become so vicious in their excitement that the Government here has to put a stop to their "wars" for a time, as they do so much injury to one another. A form of recreation which is indulged in by all the Mosul people is that of paying a yearly visit to a hot sulphur spring. This spring is situated about twelve miles from Mosul on the Baghdad road, and is called Hammam Ali. A small village has grown up around the spring, but cannot furnish anything like the accommodation needed for the thousands of visitors who flock there in the early summer. To meet this need, small booths are built of dried grass, each family renting one for the time of their visit. Two years ago it was estimated that ten thousand people from Mosul were there at one time, all congregated together without any proper accommodation, or any sanitary arrangements; the consequence was that disease and sickness were very prevalent amongst them, and many went seeking health, and found death. Last year a similar number were as usual gathered at Hammam Ali, when one evening a lighted match was carelessly thrown down, with the result that in a few minutes many of these booths were a mass of flames. Several children were burnt to death and two women. The next day the exodus from the place was universal. We were staying then at a house midway between Mosul and Hammam Ali, and watched the procession of people returning, a steady stream from morning till night. After a day or two, however, the sad episode was forgotten, and visitors began to flock back again. We once saw this celebrated place. It was on our way to Mosul, and we arrived late one night at Hammam Ali, minus our tent. The villagers kindly offered us the use of the Hammam (bath) for the night, so we made a tour of inspection, but decided to decline their offer with thanks. The place was damp, dirty, and malodorous. We preferred to pass the night in a stable, which looked a trifle more inviting, although full of rat-holes. In the morning I paid a visit to the Hammam, as it was a ladies' bathing day, and found the bath crowded with women and children, packed in like sardines in a box! The water was very hot, and I wondered the women could stand so long in it. Some of them looked rather as if they had been boiled. Here were women and children, apparently healthy, bathing in the same water as others suffering from all manner of skin diseases and other horrible things. However, they all looked perfectly happy and contented; and I would not grudge these poor creatures any little pleasure which might help to brighten their lives. We shall see in the following chapters how little brightness they possess, and, on the other hand, how much of sadness and sorrow. CHAPTER III THE RIVER TIGRIS The river Tigris--Ancient historical interest--Garden of Eden-- Origin of name unknown--Swiftness--Sources--Navigation--Keleqs --Bathing, fishing, washing--Crossing rivers. "The softly lapsing river, It whispers in its flow, Of dear days gone for ever, Those days of long ago." P. B. Marston. The river Tigris, on the banks of which Mosul is situated, is a noble stream. Though inferior in length to its sister the Euphrates, yet it is no mean rival, either in antiquity or historical fame. They share together the distinction of having on their banks the romantic spot reputed to be the Paradise of Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden is situated, according to the tradition of the country, near the junction of the Euphrates and Tigris. When we passed that way on our journey from Busrah to Baghdad, the land was flooded by the spring rains, so we saw nothing of the beauties of Paradise. The Tigris can also claim, in common with the Euphrates, an interesting connection with some of the ancient kingdoms of the world, extending back to early post-diluvian times. Near by, the Assyrian Empire built its towns of splendour and strength. Daniel records visions seen upon its banks, Cyrus is said to have marched his troops along its shores, Alexander overthrew the armies of the Medes and Persians near its basin, while in the plain of Nineveh the dynasty of the Ommiade caliphs was destroyed and supplanted by that of the Abassides. The origin of its name is unknown, but it is thought that the swiftly-flowing character of the river gave rise to its name. Hence the old Scriptural name Hiddekel, signifying "swift or quick." Owing to its wealth of fertilising power, it is sometimes called by the Arabs "Nahar-as-Salam," the River of Peace. At all times the Tigris is a swift river, but the velocity with which it travels differs according to the season of the year, the swiftest time of all being in the spring, when the snows from all the surrounding mountains melt and rush down to the river, causing it often to overflow its banks, and increasing its impetuosity to a great extent. At this time it is possible to travel on the river from Mosul to Baghdad in forty-eight hours, while in the late summer or autumn it takes at least ten or twelve days. When flowing at its fastest rate, the Tigris is said to be swifter than the Danube. The course of the river is a very winding one, extending for about 1040 miles. Its breadth varies very much. At Mosul it is a little less than 400 feet, at Baghdad about 600, while in one place where another river flows into it, the width amounts to over 1000 feet. The sources of the Tigris are at an altitude about 5000 feet above sea-level, but the greater part of its fall is accomplished at its commencement, by the time it reaches Mosul the elevation above sea-level is only 353 feet, the remainder of its course, a distance of about 650 miles, being made by easy descent. With a very little trouble the river could easily be made navigable as far up as Mosul, the chief hindrance to this being obstructions in the river which could be removed by dynamite or other explosives. A day's journey from Mosul by water there is a large dam stretching right across the river, believed to have been built by Darius with the intent to prevent Alexander from penetrating his dominions by means of the river. When the Tigris is full this is not an insurmountable barrier even as it exists now. During the summer and autumn the water is very shallow, and steamers would find it difficult to reach Mosul, but a little engineering could render the river navigable at all seasons. Once or twice steamers have reached Mosul, thereby causing great excitement amongst the natives. For the last thirty years it has been the talk of Mosul that "steamers are coming," but they have not yet started. We heard a year ago that two steamers had been chartered for plying between Mosul and Baghdad, and were only awaiting a firman from the Sultan, but so far nothing has been seen of them. Pending the inauguration of steamers, the natives still continue to use the same method of river transport as existed in the days of Abraham and Jonah. This consists of a raft-like construction, and is employed for both passenger and goods traffic. It is composed of a number of sheep or goat skins inflated and fastened close together, upon which cross-bars of wood are laid and bound firmly in place. The skins are examined daily and when necessary reinflated; great care must be taken to keep them moist, for if they become dry they are liable to burst. The raft is manned by one or two natives, whose only work is to guide the "keleq," as the raft is called, to keep it in the middle of the stream, away from all dangerous rocks and shoals. For this purpose a rough kind of oar is used, made from the branch of a tree, with palm branches at the end forming the blade. The keleq floats down the river with the current, the passengers amusing themselves with singing and reciting stories. When a European travels, a little hut is built for his convenience. A light framework of lath is run up, just large enough to hold a travelling bedstead and chair; this is covered with felt or water-proof sheeting and placed upon the raft. On arrival at Baghdad the whole is sold for about half its original price. The owner of the keleq sells the planks of wood forming the floor of the raft, packs up carefully his skins, and returns by land to Mosul, as the current is too strong to allow of his return the same way as he came. He is then ready to be hired for another journey. In good weather a journey on a raft is a very pleasant mode of travelling. It has many advantages over caravaning by land. There is no need of the early morning or midnight scramble preparatory to the start. The owner simply ties up after sunset, and as soon as dawn appears he quietly slips the rope, and off the raft glides, while the passenger is still sweetly slumbering, unconscious of any movement. In summer, however, the river is the happy hunting-ground of flies and mosquitoes, the result being that rest and sleep are impossible either by day or night. In a storm, too, the keleq is not a very secure place of refuge. An English lady travelling from Mosul to Baghdad was once caught in a hurricane and her keleq blown about in such a way that she expected every minute to find herself precipitated into the river, while her little hut and all its contents were saturated through and through with water. A raft is a good target for the Arabs whose villages lie along the banks of the river. An Englishman once placed his bicycle, which he was taking home, on the top of his hut, thinking to keep it out of harm's way. The Arabs, seeing this extraordinary-looking machine, at once came to the conclusion that it was a Maxim gun or some such deadly weapon. They immediately opened fire, and continued shooting till the raft was out of sight--fortunately with no serious result. The French Consul at Mosul was also attacked by Arabs when travelling on a keleq. For seven hours they kept up an active fusilade, both parties making good use of their guns. The merchants of Mosul use these rafts for exporting their goods to Baghdad and other places. After the harvest enormous keleqs may daily be seen leaving Mosul, loaded heavily with wheat and corn. All goods for the south are exported in this way. For these large commercial rafts, about three to four hundred skins are used, while others contain from fifty to two hundred, according to the size of raft and number of passengers. A European travelling alone would need about one hundred and fifty to two hundred skins to make a fairly comfortable raft. Natives often use a single inflated skin for travelling down the river, sometimes even going as far as Baghdad on one. This latter feat a man has been known to accomplish in twenty-four hours. It is by no means as easy as it looks, to balance yourself on a skin; when bathing we have often tried, but found it very difficult. The Arabs use these skins as ferry-boats when the river is unfordable. They take off their garments and tie them round their head as a turban, so that when they reach the opposite side their clothes are quite dry. In a village near Mosul I have seen women crossing the river in this way, many of them carrying a child on her back in addition to a large bundle of clothes which she has been washing in the river. The Arabs, both men, women, and children, are quite at home in the river--swimming as easily as ducks, and playing all manner of games in the water; it is quite interesting to watch them from a distance. The women do not take off their long loose garment, but just hold the skirt of it in their teeth if it impedes their swimming. Last summer we were staying for a time at a castle quite near the river, about an hour's ride from Mosul; while there we bathed almost every day, a small wood running to the edge of the water acting as a convenient dressing-place. The owner of the castle gave notice to all the villagers that the wood was "hareem" each afternoon, so we were always quite private. I engaged the services of an Arab woman to teach me to swim whenever my husband could not be there. She could swim like a fish herself, but had no idea of teaching any one else; however, before our holidays were over I had mastered the art. She would make me put one hand on her shoulder and then call out: "Now, kick"--that was the sum total of her instructions, "kick"! The river is considered very dangerous for bathing unless you know it well. Shortly before we were there last year, an Arab woman had been drowned. She was a good swimmer, and was swimming in deep water, when suddenly she called out that she was drowning, and before any one could go to her rescue she sank, and was quickly carried down the stream by the current; when the body was recovered life was quite extinct. For a few days the women were too frightened to bathe in that place, thinking that death was due to something in the water; but when we arrived a fortnight later they had apparently quite recovered from their fright, and were bathing as usual. Another day we were watching the men playing in the water, when suddenly a black object appeared in the distance floating down the stream; it looked like the head of a baby. As it approached the place where the men were bathing, one of our servants swam out to see what it was, and found to his horror it was the body of a man. He brought it to the bank, and every one rushed to view the corpse. Then came the question as to who would bury it; no one was willing to do this, although the body was that of an Arab, and all the onlookers were also Arab villagers. We offered backsheesh to any one who would dig the grave, but no one volunteered, and suggested pushing the body out into the current again to be carried to Baghdad, as the easiest way of settling the matter. Finally a mullah passed by, and seeing the body, ordered some men to bury it at once. We were very thankful, as we could not bear to think of the poor body floating down the stream, or being left exposed on the banks of the river. We watched some men dig a very shallow grave, and the body was laid to rest, the mullah reciting some Moslem prayers ere it was covered with earth and stones. As one sees such scenes as this taking place, it is not pleasant to think that this same river forms our sole water supply for drinking and all domestic purposes! If we take a walk down the river to the place where the water-carriers fetch the water, we shall have all the more reason thoroughly to enjoy our water! There hundreds of women are to be seen washing their clothes, men and boys enjoying a swim, horses, mules, and donkeys revelling in the mud; while not at all unlikely a few dead dogs or cats may be seen floating around! All congregate in this favourite spot. This being the case, it is not surprising that often our water resembles mud much more than water when brought to the house. Needless to say, all our drinking-water is filtered and boiled before using. The water is brought from the river in skins on the back of donkeys or mules, at the rate of 3s. 4d. a hundred skins. It seems so absurd to be paying in this way for water when, with a comparatively speaking small outlay, it could easily be conveyed to each house by means of pipes from the river running close by. This has been done by an energetic Vali in Damascus, and the result is enviable. The Tigris cannot be said to contain a great or varied supply of fish, but there are two or three kinds to be found, which help to vary the housekeeping monotony of everlasting mutton and chicken. A very large fish called "bis" is the best kind, as the meat is tender and mild, while the bones are few; the others seem to be all bones, and are hardly worth eating, besides being absolutely flavourless. Fishing is carried on from the bridge by the fish-sellers. A line is generally used, baited with melon or pieces of flesh. Sometimes poison is thrown into the river in order to kill the fish, which then float on the top of the water and are easily caught. In the summer it is very risky buying fish in the bazaar, as it so soon becomes stale; so if I want to be quite sure of having fresh fish, I send a servant down to the bridge to see a fish caught and then bring it home. As a matter of fact, I fancy he does not at all like sitting in the sun waiting, so often beguiles the time by sitting in the coffee-house situated on the banks of the river; and then, having allowed an hour or two to elapse, returns empty-handed, saying: "There are no fish in the river to-day." Rivers without bridges are a great trial of patience when journeying; it takes such a long time to transport everything, and the crossing generally takes place at the end of a stage when every one is tired, and--shall I confess it?--often cross too. The waiting in the burning sun while the boats are fetched, the weary bargaining, and all the usual trials of patience become exaggerated out of their due proportions when you know that just across the water is the resting-place for the night--so near and yet so far! And as you sit on the wrong side of the river waiting, waiting, it is difficult to feel restful and at peace with all men. I long often to be able to do as the animals do, i.e. swim over. A small charge is made for the transport of each animal, so the muleteer often prefers to swim over himself, taking his animals with him. There is as a rule only one ferry-boat, so that you have to take your turn; and as each passage takes about an hour, a great deal of patience is often needed. The ferry-boat is a large flat-bottomed, antediluvian-looking construction, and you wonder how ever it can bear the weight of all that is put upon it. When a carriage is to be transported the horses are first unharnessed, then the vehicle is lifted bodily on to the boat, with all its contents, the passengers and horses finding standing-room as best they can. When you get to the other side your troubles are not over, for on starting to put up the tent you find one of the poles has been left behind on the other side; so there is nothing to do but to sit still and continue the waiting process. Or perhaps you think a cup of tea would help while away the time, only to find that the charcoal has not yet arrived! So there is only one thing to do, and that is to wait till everything is safely landed; then you can begin to prepare for the long-delayed rest. CHAPTER IV THE CHILDREN OF MOSUL Spoiling process--Despair of the parents--The "god" of the hareem--Death by burning--Festivities at birth of boy--Cradles and cradle songs--School life--Feast in honour of a boy having read the Koran through--"Only a girl"--Girl life--Girl victims of Naseeb--Marriage. "The household must weep for forty days on the birth of a girl." Arabic Proverb. "Is it all forgot? All schooldays' friendship, Childhood's innocence?" Shakespeare. "Where children are not, heaven is not." A. Swinburne. The children of Mosul have on the whole a very good time. From their earliest days they are allowed to do pretty much as they like, and only when the process of spoiling is completed, and the child has become a terror to all, do the parents realise that it is far easier to spoil a child than to "unspoil" him, once the deed is done. This method, or rather lack of method, of bringing up the children, is a great cause of trouble and sorrow in after years both to the parents and to the children themselves, but yet they never seem to profit by their experiences, for they still continue to say that it is a great "aib" or shame to deny a child anything he may want. Although this spoiling process is carried on with both boys and girls in the earlier years of their lives, it is brought to perfection in their treatment of the boys. I remember a pretty little child called Jamila (beautiful); she was so fair and pretty that she was known by many as "the English child." When she was about three years old she became very ill, and the mother brought her to my husband, who prescribed for her, but said that the chief part of the treatment lay in the diet. On no account was solid food to be given for at least three or four days. The mother looked in despair when she heard this, as she said, "Jamila will cry if she cannot have her meat and bread and pillau!" A day or two later I was calling at the house, and saw that Jamila was looking very ill, and asked the mother what the child had been eating. "Oh," she said, "poor little child, I had to give her meat and bread, for she tore her hair and clothes in her anger, on my refusing to give them to her, and so, how could I deny them to her?" And sure enough, while I was there, Jamila began to cry for bread, and on her mother refusing, threw herself on the ground in a paroxysm of anger, beating her head and face with her clenched fist, till she was quite blue and black in the face. The mother ran at once and brought bread and meat, and gave to the child, who immediately recovered her equanimity of mind and temper. Then again, I have seen a room full of people all in despair over a child of perhaps two or three years old, who refuses to drink his medicine ordered by the doctor. The father begins the performance by solemnly taking the glass containing the medicine up to the child, and saying to him, "Oh, my beloved, will you take this medicine?" "No," says the child, and pushes it away. The father looks round on the audience for signs of wonder and astonishment at the marvellous doings of the child. Then perhaps the uncle has a try, and meets with like success; then the mother, the aunts, and a few friends all beseech the child to take the medicine, saying, "For my sake, for the sake of your father, your mother, &c., take this," but, of course, all are unsuccessful, and they all shake their heads and say, "I told you so, he will not take it," and it being a "khatiya" (sin) to force a child to do anything against his will, the child, of course, gains the victory in this as in everything else. If you suggest pouring the medicine down the child's throat by force, the parents and friends will put you down as being a monster of cruelty. If there happens to be only one boy in the hareem, he becomes almost like a little god to all the women folk. A small friend of mine was in this position, and although a very jolly little boy, was fast becoming unbearable in his actions towards his grandmother, mother, and aunts. He was only about eight years old, but one day he was calling on me with his aunt, whom I loved very much, when, without the smallest provocation, he suddenly took up a stick and gave his aunt two or three hard cuts across her shoulders with it, and then ran laughing out of the room. I did not say anything to the boy, but presently my husband came in to lunch, and I asked him to give the boy a beating, and told him what he had done. So we went to hunt for the boy, and found him hiding behind his grandmother, who besought us not to touch the darling boy. My husband gave the boy a very slight whipping, and told him if ever he did such a thing again, he would give him something to remember! The boy was so astonished at being chastised, that to this day he has been a changed boy, and much more bearable in his home life. Another instance of the way the boys are spoilt. A woman and her daughter, a little girl of about eight years, were sitting in their verandah one day behind a pile of cotton which had just been "fluffed" by the man whose work it is to fluff cotton. The son of the woman, a boy of seven, thought it would be great fun to set a light to this cotton, which he promptly did by throwing a lighted match into the midst of it, with the result that his mother and sister were burnt to death. I called at the house some days after, and found the boy who had done this deed quite a hero in the eyes of the women folk, and far from being blamed and punished, on the contrary they were fondling and caressing him more than ever. I told them I thought the boy was so pleased with all the attention he was receiving, that very likely he would do the same thing again if he had the opportunity. Let me give you a short sketch of a child's life, in order that you may see for yourself something of their everyday life. As we are talking of Eastern children, we must begin with the boy, as he is so much more important a personage than a mere girl. A boy's birth is celebrated by great rejoicings and feastings, and if the family is a well-to-do one, at least two sheep will be slain and cooked and given to the poor. Our next-door neighbours were rejoicing over the birth of a boy a short time ago, and they thought it necessary to sacrifice three sheep, and for two days the poor were coming with their little dishes and pots to carry away portions of the meat. I went to see this ceremony, and it was very interesting. Apparently no questions were asked, the only recommendations necessary being poverty and need. Also hundreds of loaves of bread were given away at this time. If we go to the hareem to admire and pay our homage to the little king, we must be careful not to praise him too much, or, if we do, we must qualify our praise by saying "Mash'allah," which will counteract any evil influence. We shall find the baby boy swathed up tightly in his swaddling clothes, his eyebrows and eyelids pencilled with native cosmetics, and very likely a beauty spot on his forehead; his little head will be covered with a little silk cap, over which a handkerchief will be wrapped, and on the cap will be seen some coins and blue beads, to avert the dreaded evil eye. We shall find him very probably strapped tightly into a cradle made of brightly-painted wood; the baby is laid on the top of the little mattress, which is level with the sides of the cradle, and then strapped down. As he grows out of his first cradle he will be given another and larger one, and much more comfortable, in which he need not be strapped, as the sides are high enough to prevent his falling out; a cord is attached to the cradle, so that his mother can swing him gently while she sits and spins or does anything she has to do. It is very quaint to listen to their monotonous chant as they rock the cradle, and very often they sing to the swing of the cradle, "Allah ho, Allah hi, Allah ho, Allah hi," "He is God, He is living, He is God, He is living." The first time of shaving a boy's head is looked upon as a very important day, and the barber must be careful to leave a little tuft of hair on the top of the head, by which he can be pulled up into heaven, otherwise he might get left behind. When the boy is about five, he will probably be sent to school. He is then dressed as a miniature man, in white knickerbockers, shirt, coloured vest, and silk or cloth "zeboon," a loose garment reaching to the ankles; on his head, of course, will be the inevitable red fez, adorned with charms to bring him good luck and keep off evil. Arrived at the school, our little friend will seat himself on the ground, and his education will begin by learning the A b t (alef, bey, tey), the A, B, C, of the Arabic language. After he has mastered the alphabet, and can write a few words, then the Koran will be started, and the boy will be kept hard at this, each day learning a short portion till a chapter is known perfectly by heart. All the boys in the school may be reciting different portions of the Koran at the same time, and in a sing-song tone, so that, as you pass up and down the streets, it is easy to recognise these seats of learning for the young. I have often peeped into some of these schools, and watched the boys, all seated on the ground, swaying themselves backwards and forwards, repeating the Koran in a loud, monotonous voice. When a boy has been through the Koran once, a great feast is made in his honour. He is decked out in grand new garments, generally of silk and embroidery, and men dancers are engaged for a day or more, according to the means of the parents. The son of a friend of mine in Mosul had just completed this part of his education, and his mother sent word to know if the dancers might come and dance before us in our compound. We thought this might be rather trying, as they would probably have stayed all day, so I sent a message thanking her for the honour, but saying I would prefer to come to her house to see the "tamash" (sight), as I only had a limited time to give to it. So at the time appointed I went, accompanied by a woman servant and a man, as I thought there would probably be a great commotion. On arriving at the door of the house, it seemed hopeless even to think of getting in, as the courtyard was full of men, dancing, shouting, yelling, whirling and slashing naked swords and daggers. The court was a very small one, and my first thought was to turn and fly, but the hostess was a very dear friend of mine, and I did not like to disappoint her, so I sent the man-servant in front to open a passage in the crowd and followed hard after him, and felt very thankful when we reached a room safely. The women were gathered there looking out of the windows at the fun. But this did not seem to please the dancers, for they called repeatedly for the "khatoun" (lady) to come and watch them, and some even followed me into the room, thereby throwing the women into a state of panic and fright. The men were so wildly excited that they hardly knew what they were doing. Stripped to the waist, they flourished their swords and yelled, then jumped high into the air, then crouched on the ground and again leapt into the air, all the time pointing the daggers or swords either at their own hearts or some one else's. To add to the general excitement, other men were beating drums and playing on a weird kind of stringed instrument. After receiving their "backsheesh" they departed, for which I was not sorry. The boy in whose honour all this is taking place is very happy and delighted, and thinks now he is a man, and so, as he is leaving his childhood behind him, we too will leave him and pass on to the much less important subject (from an Eastern standpoint) of the childhood of a girl. "Only a girl"--"Only a girl." These are the words which generally follow the announcement of the birth of a girl. Poor little mite, her entrance into the world is not a cause of great joy or rejoicing, and from her earliest days, I think, this lies as a shadow upon her; for to my mind there is a sadness and pathos about the little girls quite different to the masterful looks and ways of the boys, the lords of creation. As it is a part of the Moslem's creed to bow in submission to the will of God, so the parents now, as always, say, "It is God's will" ("Al Allah"), and bow their heads in submission to this new yoke put upon them. Of course there are exceptions, and some love their little daughters very much, but taken as a rule, girls are not welcome--certainly not more than one. If the parents of the girl baby are well-to-do, perhaps they may sacrifice one sheep, but the feastings and almsgiving are done in a much quieter way and with as little ostentation as possible; and if you visit the mother it is not necessary to say very much about the new arrival as it is "only a girl," and it is not well to make the poor mother feel too sad. So the little girl starts her life, with not too much love and attention. If she happens to be well and strong she will thrive apace in spite of all, but if she is at all inclined to be weak or delicate, the chances are that she will be neglected until it is too late for human aid, and then perhaps, as a conscience salve, she will be taken to the doctor by the mother or some other relative. How many of these little victims have been brought when too late to my husband I should not like to say. Directly the doctor sees a child suffering from some terribly neglected disease he at once says, "A girl, of course! If the child had been a boy you would have brought him long ago." And so, alas, it is true of many cases. It is a convenient way of getting rid of some of a too numerous family of girls, and then the mothers and relations will piously clasp their hands and say, "It is the will of God." The will of God, indeed! This so-called submission to the will of God, or "kismet" or "naseeb," as the Turk and Arab call it, is often responsible for a great deal of neglect by mothers of their little girls. For instance, there was such a nice-looking young widow who used to come and see me. She had two children, both girls, the elder about five years of age, and the younger nearly three. This younger child was a perfectly beautiful child--just like a lovely wax doll; indeed, so much did she resemble a doll that she was often called "l'abbi," which means a doll. Her sweet little face had a complexion which any English mother might have been proud of, and her large brown eyes were full of life and fun, while her dear little golden curls falling over her forehead and forming a halo round her head gave her an appearance of a little cherub. I found out very soon that this child had the beginnings of a terrible disease in her, which, if attended to at once, might be cured, but which neglected would mean certain and sure death. I spoke to the mother about it, and implored her to bring the child to the hospital for treatment; but no, she would not listen; she simply shrugged her shoulders and said, "Naseeb, al Allah. If the child is to die, she will die; if it is written she is to live, she will live," and nothing I could say would induce her either to bring the child or to let us have her to take care of; and I heard afterwards from a neighbour that the mother wanted the little girlie to die, so that she might be free to marry again, as no man would take a wife who already was burdened with two girls. Instances of this kind might be multiplied by the hundred, showing how girl life is neglected, under the blasphemous idea that it is "naseeb." As a rule it is not considered at all necessary to send a Moslem girl to school, but quite lately the Turkish authorities have opened some schools for girls in Mosul, and have sent women teachers from Constantinople, so this is a step in the right direction. I visited one of these schools, and was very much struck by the happier looks of the girls compared with the faces of the same girls in their own homes. They are taught to read and write and, of course, to recite the Koran. Also, we were shown some very pretty pieces of silk embroidery which the girls had just finished, and really some were quite artistic and pretty. These schools are free, the teachers being paid by Government, and, therefore, girls of all classes sit side by side. The pasha's daughter and the daughter of the pasha's slave may both attend the same school and mix quite freely and happily together. For the first seven or eight years of a girl's life she may go unveiled and run about pretty freely with only a silk scarf on her head, but when she reaches the age of nine or thereabout a great change takes place in her life. She is prohibited from going out, except occasionally with the mother or other relations, and then she must be closely veiled. Poor children, I do so often pity them--they so soon leave their childhood behind them and become women before they come to girlhood. Of course the great aim and object of parents is to marry the girls as soon as possible to the man who can offer the highest price for her; but the subject of weddings is so extensive that we must leave it for another chapter. Only I will say here that I think the reason girls are looked upon more or less as a nuisance is because they cost so much to get married; for if a father has three or four girls to marry, he needs to be a rich man. From the time the girl is four or five years old he begins loading her with gold and jewellery, so that by the day she comes to be of a marriageable age she shall have a good supply to offer to her would-be husband. CHAPTER V THE MOSLEM WOMEN OF MOSUL Beauty behind the veil--Types of beauty--My dear old friend of 110 years of age--Aids to beauty described--Pretty children--Beauty tainted with sin--Imprisonment of women--Peeps into some hareems--Warm receptions--A visit from the ladies of a select hareem--Love the magic key to open hearts. "Women are worthless creatures, and soil men's reputations." Arabic Proverb. "As I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together." Shakespeare. It has often been said that there is very little beauty to be seen behind the veil in Turkish Arabia. I certainly do not agree with this statement, for I have seen some very beautiful faces amongst the Mohammedan women of Mosul. There is beauty, too, to suit all tastes: the winsome blonde, with her pale blue eyes and fair hair; the striking brunette, peeping from behind her veil with laughing brown eyes, which at times are as full of pathos as those of a faithful collie which has lost its master. I think the chief attraction of Eastern women lies in their eyes. One face comes to my mind as I write. It is not a pretty face in the ordinary sense of the word, but the eyes are wonderful, revealing a soul full of sadness, a longing for something not attainable: eyes that might make you weep as you feel them fixed upon you in unspeakable yearning for love. Another type of face is the bright, vivacious one, seen chiefly amongst young unmarried women--marriage in the East generally having the effect of taking all brightness out of a face or a life. There is also many a sweet face to be seen in Mosul. Perhaps these could not be called beautiful except for the sweetness. One such I can see now as my memory takes me back a few months. A dear face is pressed close to mine, and with pleading blue eyes and such a sweet, expressive mouth which utters words such as these: "Khatoun, I cannot go--I cannot leave you. Will you let me live always with you?" If only you knew the history of this woman, you would wonder that her face could bear such a sweet look, or, indeed, how she managed to endure life at all. Beauty of the East is all too fleeting as a rule, a woman of thirty years of age being quite passée. Nevertheless, there are some very fine-looking old ladies in Mosul. One dear friend of mine is proud of the fact that she has reached the grand age of 110! Her face still retains some of its former beauty. Her daughter is a young woman of nearly ninety, her grand-daughter can boast of seventy years, while as to her great-grandchildren, they are countless! This old lady came one day to the dispensary for medicine, as she wished to be "made strong" enough to take a journey consisting of six hours' riding to a hot-water spring outside Mosul, a place to which she had been in the habit of going regularly for the last 100 years or so! She was also quite distressed because her skin was rough, and asked the doctor to give her some medicine to make it smooth again. Even at 110 she was capable of thinking of and longing for a renewal of her lost beauty. Aids to beauty are much sought after by the ladies of Mosul, as they do not at all approve of becoming "old." It is quite a rare sight to see a white-haired woman. The moment grey hairs commence to appear they have recourse to henna, a dye much in request by Easterns of both sexes. Freckles are a cause of much sorrow of heart to Mosul ladies. One girl, who was really very pretty, was brought constantly to the dispensary by her mother, who implored my husband to eradicate the freckles with which her daughter's face was covered, as, if they were not removed, she might never get a proposal of marriage. However, a man was forthcoming who apparently did not object to freckles, for shortly before leaving Mosul I received an invitation to this girl's wedding-feast. There are some very pretty children in Mosul, some dark, others fair, with blue eyes and curly hair. However, this latter style of beauty is not as a rule admired. Mothers have a great horror lest their children should have curly hair. If a child possesses it, the women try by all means in their power to straighten out the curls, sometimes even coming to ask for medicine for this purpose. Very often, however, the children lose a great deal of their beauty when five or six years old. Perhaps it is because their souls at that age become tainted with knowledge of evil, and this knowledge is reflected on their faces. It is heartrending to see pretty little children listening open-mouthed to some horrible tale of sin and wickedness told by a member of the hareem. It is true there is beauty behind the veil, but, alas! it is beauty tainted with the blackness of sin. How can lives be beautiful when the souls within are dead?--as dead as sin and sorrow can make them. Boys and girls grow up amidst surroundings which soon soil their souls; the "innocency of childhood," so dear to the hearts of English parents, is unknown in a Moslem hareem. Many and many a time have I interrupted a conversation consisting of things which should not be spoken of, by pointing out to the women some boys or girls sitting near by, listening with evident delight to their unclean talk. Sometimes they would desist, but as a rule would only laugh, saying: "What does it matter? They know all about it!" Oh! the pity and horror of it--young lives spoilt and contaminated almost before their feet have started on the difficult and perilous walk through life. Is it any wonder that these children grow up with diseased minds and deadened souls? Then they in their turn become the parents of another generation, to whom they teach the same soul-destroying creeds. There is no hope for the children of Mohammedan lands until the mothers have learnt a little of the meaning of pure life and conversation. There is no hope for the women while the men are what they are. The whole system is one of degradation and vice. When Mohammed, acting under what he declared to be a revelation from Allah, introduced the use of the veil, he swept away for ever all hope of happiness for Moslem women. By means of the veil he immured them for ever in a living grave. "Imprisoned for life" is the verdict written against each Moslem woman as she leaves childhood behind her. Before the days of Mohammed the Arabs were in the habit of burying alive yearly a certain number of new-born girls; surely the fate of these innocents was better than that of the millions of women to-day who are buried alive behind the veil. "Ensha' Allah" (God willing), in the near future the same Power which raised British women to hold the position they now do will also penetrate through the prison bars of the hareems of Mohammedan lands and set free the prisoners. An enlightened Mohammedan gentleman once said: "The only hope for our women is Christianity." God grant that their "only hope" may not be denied them. How often I have said to these women, "Alhamd-'llillah (thank God), I am not a Moslem woman!" and the heartfelt answer has always been, "Yes, indeed, you may thank God; but it is naseeb" (fate). The longer I live amongst Moslem women the more my heart yearns with love and pity for them, and the more thankful I am that their lot is not mine. Let us now peep into some of the many hareems of Mosul. There are some into which I should blush with shame to take my readers, on account of the conversations we might hear; but we will choose some where, in all probability, we shall see and hear nothing objectionable. Our first visit shall be to a near neighbour of ours. The house is a large one, the owner holding a high social position in the town. As we enter the outside gates we see a large reception-room, in which the master of the house is sitting holding court. We must not look that way, as we are in native costume; so, pulling our veils a little closer, we hurry on till we reach the door of the hareem. This is always kept locked; upon knocking, it is opened by a native girl or woman, who immediately kisses our hands or dress, then ushers us into the presence of the khatoun. In this case the head lady of the hareem has been a widow for some years, and is still wearing her black mourning dress. She rises from her place amongst the cushions on the floor as we enter and salaams low, bidding us welcome to her house, at the same time indicating our seats by her side. We arrange ourselves as comfortably as possible, sitting cross-legged in true Arab fashion. By-and-by the daughter-in-law comes in--a frail, delicate-looking woman, and with her a little girl, her only child. She is sad because she has no boy, and is afraid her husband will divorce her on this account. Since leaving Mosul I have heard that her fears on this point were not groundless, for her husband has since divorced her and taken another wife in her place. The usual coffee is handed round by one of the many women servants, and our hostess is very much surprised that we will not join her in smoking a cigarette. Sometimes there are a dozen or so women living in the same hareem, wives of brothers, and it is often difficult to know who is who. The relationships are sometimes most perplexing. Even to this day there are houses which I visit frequently, but have not yet mastered the intricate "connections" of the various members of the hareem. Here is another hareem, quite different from the last one we visited. My special friends in this house are two young girls who are not yet married. They are such dear, bright girls, and as I enter throw their arms round my neck and bid me welcome in a most demonstrative way. If I am expected I always find a meal ready, and if my visit is unannounced, a woman is always despatched to the nearest "sook" (market) to buy an impromptu meal. They are poor people, and I always beg them not to do this, but they never listen to my entreaties. The meal consists sometimes of "kabobs," i.e. meat minced and pressed round iron skewers and grilled over a charcoal fire; this is placed on a plate and garnished with sliced raw onions and bitter herbs. Another time a sheep had been killed, and our meal consisted of the "interiors," dished in a most tempting manner. Sometimes salads form the principal dish; but whatever the meal consists of, it is always served with love, and is consequently thoroughly appreciated. This house seems always to be full of women, all more or less related. If I get mixed up, as I sometimes do, in the relationship of those present, and show my ignorance of their names, they are quite hurt, and exclaim: "What, you have forgotten me?" "Was I not in the hospital for a week?" or, "Did I not bring So-and-so to see you?" If they have seen me once, they are quite surprised if I cannot remember all about them, and often I have to resort to stratagem to find out their names without exposing my forgetfulness. While we sit and talk the girls are all busily engaged in crotcheting caps. These are sold in the sook at about six-pence a dozen, cotton included. In certain "mahullahs" (quarters) of the town you will see all the women doing this work; in another part of the town they are all occupied with knitting socks, in another cigarette-making is the fashion. Each mahullah seems to have its own style of work for the women, to which it adheres more or less. In one house where I visit, a basin of delicious "lebban" is always set before me. We all sit on the floor round a diminutive table about five inches high, and each one being provided with a wooden spoon dips out the lebban from the central dish. This lebban makes a delicious food in the hot weather. It is made something after the same manner as "junket," only lebban is more tart and acid. Eaten with grated cucumbers, it makes a very refreshing salad. Fortunately for me, I can eat and, as a rule, thoroughly enjoy native food. In fact, I often prefer it to our own, for almost all attempts at European cookery by native cooks are decided failures. My husband, on the other hand, cannot indulge in this respect, the excessive fat used being too much for his digestive powers. But to return to our ladies. Not only do I visit in the hareems of the towns, but the hareems very often pay me a visit at our house. The poorer class of women come very freely, and they know that they are always welcome. We have a room specially set apart for women visitors, so that they may feel quite safe from any men servants who might happen to be about. The higher-class ladies do not come so frequently, the idea being that the more strictly they keep to their own hareem, the more select and important will they become in the eyes of the people. There is one family in Mosul who boast that their hareem have never visited any other house. So strictly have the ladies been kept in seclusion, that they were not even allowed to go to the "hammam" (bath) till quite lately. Now, however, they are allowed the luxury of once a month walking a hundred yards or so to the nearest bath. After becoming acquainted with the ladies of this hareem I was very anxious to obtain permission for them to come and visit me. They did not at all hold out any hope that their lords and masters would allow such an unheard-of proceeding. One day, however, my husband told the head of the house that I was very anxious for the ladies of his hareem to come and see me. To the great surprise of all he acquiesced, only stipulating that the visit should be kept as secret as possible. The ladies were very excited, and for days beforehand were talking about the proposed visit and making preparations for it. On the day fixed the way had to be cleared of all menkind. The doctor was banished from the house for the whole afternoon, the men servants were given a holiday, and all doors through which a stray man might happen to wander were carefully bolted and barred. At the hour appointed a woman servant arrived to know if all was ready. When she had satisfied herself that no men were visible, nor could become so unexpectedly, she returned to fetch the ladies. They arrived in all the glory of black silk chuddars, which Judy (our woman servant) carefully removed and folded up. The two older ladies were quite simply dressed in print or muslin, but the young wife was decked out in one of her many bridal costumes, and looked very charming. She was then only about sixteen years of age, but was the mother of two pretty children, a girl and a boy. They were all so delighted to be allowed out for the first time in their lives. We began by eating cucumbers and water-melons, followed by tea, coffee, and English biscuits and cakes. These latter they much appreciated, asking permission to carry away some for other members of the hareem to taste. After refreshments had been partaken of they were very anxious to see all over the house. As we went from room to room it was so funny to hear their remarks. The bedroom seemed to take their fancy most of all, as they could not see why we needed a room specially for sleeping in. They were very charmed with our little harmonium, and listened with great delight while I played and sang to them some of our old English hymns translated into Arabic. One of the ladies trying to play could not understand why it would not "speak" for her, and upon my moving the pedals was overjoyed to find that she could "make music." Their delight at everything was just like that of little children on finding a new toy. Their visit lasted about three hours, and they went away promising to come again soon. This hareem is a most exceptionally happy one. There is only one wife in it, the two elder ladies being sisters-in-law to the bride, and unmarried. They all seem to live together in peace and happiness. Unfortunately, this is only the exception, which always goes to prove the rule, that hareems are not the abode of peace. How can there be peace when the heart is full of jealousy and hatred? One such case comes to my mind. There are two brothers living in one house, one of them being married. After some years of married life had passed and they remained childless, he took another wife, and the first one was thrown into misery and despair. Shortly after this we were awakened one night by hearing most fearful shrieks and yells coming from this house. The following day we heard that the two wives had been quarrelling and fighting, as usual, till at last the husband took the first wife and turned her forcibly out of doors. Fortunately, her mother's house was near by, to which she went, and where she remains to this day. It has been said, and unfortunately too often truly said, that love has no part in the life of a Moslem woman; and yet it is also true that they are, as a rule, a most loving and lovable set of people. It is because they have so little love and kindness in their own lives that, when it does come to them, their hearts are ready to overflow in response. Perhaps the Arab women are slow to give their love and trust, but when once given it is sure and lasting. Often these women have said to me, "Why do you love us, Khatoun?" They cannot understand that any one should care for them. Such an idea is outside the range of their experience altogether. One of the first sentences I learnt in the Arabic language was, "Ana ahubkum" (I love you all), and this is one of the most useful and necessary phrases to be learnt. Love is the magic key which opens a way to the hearts of the Moslem women, and which brings forth much fruit in return. It is sad to think that these women, who are endowed with such great possibilities of loving, should be condemned to live their lives, aye, and die too, without one spark of love to brighten and cheer them through the weary years of their lives. Sad, too, that their favoured sisters of England should be content that these things should remain so. Who is to tell them of love if we do not? They know nothing of the God of Love, who looks in pity and compassion on their stricken lives. They only know of a God who is inexorably hard and unfeeling, who holds the destiny of each life in His hand, and against whom it is no use repining, for "What is written is written." Mohammed says in the Koran, "The noblest of you in the sight of God is he who most doth fear Him." Truly has it been said that the God of the Mohammedans is an Oriental despot. CHAPTER VI MOSLEM FAMILY LIFE No home life--Women down-trodden--Evils of divorce--Naseeb--The will of God--Truth and falsehood--Honesty prevalent--A thief caught--Swearing and anti-swearing--Fighting, hair-tearing, and biting--Hammams, the Ladies' Club. "The heart of a woman is given to folly." Arabic Proverb. "May Allah never bless womankind." Quotation from Moslem Author. "The Very God! think, Abib, dost thou think? So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too-- So, through the Thunder comes a human voice Saying, 'Oh, heart I made, a heart beats here! Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself! Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine, But love I gave Thee, with Myself to love, And Thou must love me, who have died for thee.'" R. Browning. There is no "home life," such as we understand the term, in Mosul. The word "beit" (house) is the only one in the Arabic language used for describing a home. It would indeed be mockery to call such by the sacred name so dear to the hearts of English people. In a book lately published in Cairo the author, a well-known and clever Moslem writer, says: "Man is the absolute master and woman the slave. She is the object of his sensual pleasures, a toy as it were with which he plays whenever and however he pleases. Knowledge is his, ignorance is hers. The firmament and the light are his, darkness and the dungeon are hers. His is to command, hers is blindly to obey. His is everything that is, and she is an insignificant part of that everything." This being the sentiment of every Moslem man, is it any wonder that there is no happiness or mutual regard in the family life? The men look upon the women, and treat them, as little better than brutes; then when they become so, turn and revile them. They keep their heels firmly planted on women's necks and then dare them to rise. A man may be as vile as he likes himself, but the moment he suspects one of his hareem of misconduct there is nothing but death, or mutilation which is worse than death, for the offender. A woman once came to the hospital who always insisted on keeping her face entirely covered with the exception of the eyes; I soon found that the reason of this was because her nose and lips were missing. These members had been cut off in a rage by an infuriated son-in-law, who declared that this woman had intrigued with his wife in allowing another man to enter the hareem in his absence. This is a husband's ordinary method of wreaking revenge on any of his women folk whom he suspects of being false to him. This, or death. The facility with which a man is able to divorce his wife is a great source of trouble to the women. They never feel secure in the hearts of their husbands, knowing that at any moment he may tire of them and send them adrift. When a woman is divorced she returns as a rule to her mother's house; but should she have no relation at hand to whom she can appeal for protection, her condition is deplorably sad. A man may divorce his wife in a fit of anger and receive her back the next day if he so desire; this may occur twice, but if he pronounces the fatal words "I divorce thee" three times the divorced wife may not be taken back till she has been married to another man for a time and he also has divorced her; then her former husband may marry her again if he wishes. This is one of the good (?) laws of Mohammed the Prophet, and needs no comment. When a woman is divorced the husband can claim the children if he desires; if not, the wife is allowed to retain them. Should she marry again the poor children are often left to look after themselves as best they can. As a rule the new husband does not wish to bear the expense of the children belonging to his wife's former husband. If, however, he should consent, and the two families are brought up together, the result is generally not conducive to peace of mind. One of our servants in Mosul had a little boy five years of age; having divorced the boy's mother, he looked about for another wife, and finally selected one who had already been divorced and was the mother of a boy four years old. The two boys now live together, and are a fruitful source of friction between husband and wife. A short time ago the mother came to our compound early in the morning looking dishevelled and angry, saying that her husband had turned her out of the house at midnight, refusing to admit her again. On inquiring into the matter we found that the root of the quarrel lay in the fact that the man was jealous of his wife's treatment of her own boy, declaring that he had only married her to look after his boy. He divorced her; but acting on our suggestion forgave, and reinstated her in his hareem. A short time ago a woman came to me in great distress with her tale of sorrow. I had known her for some months, and loved her very much. She was the mother of two fine boys and a girl. When the girl was about eighteen months old the mother became very ill. The doctor attended her for some days, but finally gave up all hope of her recovery. As a last resource, however, some stringent means were used which, with God's blessing, proved successful, and the woman began to recover. So near death had she been, that the neighbours came to the house inquiring what time the funeral would take place! The husband, a "mullah" (priest), never came near her the whole time of her illness, and the first news the poor woman heard on her recovery was that he intended taking another wife, doubtless thinking that, after such a severe illness, she would not be of much use to him for some long time. As soon as she could walk she came to tell me her trouble, and to ask me what I should advise her to do. I told her that, if I were in her place, I should leave the man altogether. This, she said, she could not do, as it would mean separation from her children. Finally, she concluded that there was nothing else to do but to go back to her husband and submit to his will. This she did, and I saw her there before we left; but such a different face greeted me to the sweet one of old. Misery, discontent, and anger were depicted there instead of content and happiness. Up to the time of her illness she had been in the habit of frequently coming to see me: now her husband forbade her to do so any more. The week before we left, however, she turned up again with a bad abscess on her leg, for which she gave continual praise to God, saying repeatedly, "Alhamd'llillah. God sent me this bad leg in order that I may come to you"--her husband not objecting to her coming to the hospital to be treated, but only when she came to the house without any apparent reason. A Moslem woman has very little hope of gaining Paradise. Old pictures by Mohammedan artists always represent hell as being full of women. Their hope of gaining Paradise rests a great deal on the will of their husbands. Some holy men say, "I don't want my wives in heaven. I prefer those provided by God for all good Moslems from amongst the angels." Yet, if you question the women about their hope for the future life, they all fervently express the belief that, eventually, they will have a place in Paradise afforded them. Poor, blind, misguided Moslem women of Mosul and other Mohammedan lands! How my heart aches for them! Will no one heed the cry of anguish and despair which goes up from their midst? As we think of their lives our cry can only be, "How long, O Lord, how long will these things be?" Women are great believers in the doctrine of Naseeb or fatalism. To everything that comes to them they bow their heads in submission and say, "Naseeb" (fate). This doctrine often leads to great neglect of children and invalids, the women excusing themselves by saying, "Maktoob" (It is written). It often rouses our indignation to hear this oft-quoted word misapplied as an excuse for wrongdoing or selfish desires. For instance, parents will enter into negotiations for the marriage of their daughter with a man known to be an evil liver; then, when the girl is suffering, maybe, for their sins, say piously, "Naseeb--Min Allah" (from God). "Min Allah" indeed! "Min Shaitan" (from Satan) would be more correct! Then, again, it is somewhat annoying to be told it is "the will of God" that your horse should develop a cough, because the groom neglected to cover him when standing in the rain; or, when your best china tea-set is smashed, you would rather not be told it is "Naseeb"! Albeit this is an annoying doctrine to the European at times, yet it certainly helps the Eastern woman to bear her troubles and trials, and it is good for her to have this at command, for she has nothing else to aid her. To sorrow, loss, bereavement, and all the ills that human nature is subject to, the Moslem answers always "Naseeb," or, "It is the will of God." Should their children die, or the locusts destroy the crop, it is "Naseeb." Is the weather hot or cold, dry or moist, the remark is always the same, "Naseeb." If the river water is filthy and they choose to drink it, thus contracting typhoid or one of the hundred other ills consequent on drinking such water, they have only to assure themselves that it is "Naseeb," and there remains nothing more to be said or done. It is easier to say "Naseeb" than to take the trouble to filter or boil the water for drinking. In a thousand ways this belief in fatalism is convenient to the lazy or careless ones, a help to the over-burdened and weary, who know no other succour or helper in time of need or sorrow, while it is, in some cases, a blasphemous libel on God, blaming Him for what is really a sin wilfully indulged in. As in Persia, so in Mosul, truth plays little part in the characters of some of the people. They have not yet learnt to value God's gift as expressed by the poet Browning-- "God's gift was that man should conceive of Truth And yearn to gain it." It is strange how even the most enlightened find it difficult to speak the truth always, and correspondingly easy to tell an untruth. A boy was once found out in a fault (quite a trivial one), but, when questioned, he absolutely denied all knowledge of it, until he was confronted by one who had been an eye-witness of the whole scene. Then only did he confess, adding, "I said with my lips I did not do it, but in my heart I confessed." What can be said to people whose mind is capable of evolving such ideas? We often had to complain of dishonesty amongst the hospital women servants, especially of the cook for petty thefts, such as eating the patients' food, thus causing them to go on short commons, unless I was there to see that each one had his or her proper quantity. One day I was crossing the compound before superintending the distribution of the evening meal to the in-patients, when, as I approached the kitchen, I distinctly saw the cook helping herself most liberally to the food out of the pot. On remonstrating with her, she indignantly denied that she had ever tasted a morsel, until I made her open her mouth and reveal to the amused onlookers proof positive of her lies. Even then she was not ashamed, but only laughed at the idea of the "khatoun" finding her out. A woman will bring a child to the dispensary and swear that it is her child, all the time knowing that the real mother is waiting outside, too ashamed to be seen coming to the poor people's dispensary, but not wishing to pay the usual doctor's fee. Or some lady from a high-class hareem will dress in her servant's clothes and come to the dispensary, posing as a poor woman who cannot afford a piastre (2d.) for her medicine! You get so tired of always hearing lies that you begin to feel it is no use to question people at all. I do not wish to imply that there is no truth to be found in Mosul; but it certainly is a rare and, when found, precious virtue. It is a sad fact, too, that the natives do not trust or believe each other, knowing that, given the opportunity, a brother will cheat a brother or a son his father. Every one is suspicious of his neighbour. On the whole the people are honest, at least with the exception of the many trifling pilferings always to be expected amongst the servants. Some of them are rather fond of "eating money" entrusted to their care. We had two or three servants who were good at this. They would come to me every day with their accounts, receive payment for same, but instead of handing over the money to the shopkeeper would calmly appropriate it for themselves, till one day the baker or butcher leaves a message at the door politely asking to be paid for past favours. Then the culprit is sent for, and acknowledges having "eaten the money." Another servant once tried to steal some dolls from a box lately received from England for distribution amongst the in-patients of the hospital. He had helped me unpack the box and carry the contents to the storeroom, pending the arrival of Christmas Day. A few days after I was passing this room, and hearing a rustling inside looked to see what it was, but seeing the door still locked thought I must have imagined the noise. But just as I was passing on the rustling became more distinct, and I went nearer to examine more closely the door, and found that, while the lock was still intact, the door had been lifted bodily off its hinges and then carefully replaced! Calling my husband, we entered the room and found a poor frightened man trying to hide himself under the pile of paper and sacking which had been removed from the box. He was absolutely shaking with fear, thinking that he would be bastinadoed (beaten on the feet with sticks) or imprisoned. He declared at first that he had come for some string, which he had noticed on a shelf, to mend my saddle; but finally confessed that the dolls had been the object of his visit. About six small ones were found in his pockets; he had wanted them for his children. We told him that if he had only asked he should have had one given him. I shall never forget his astonishment when my husband told him to choose the one he liked best and take it to his little girl. He wept for joy and gratitude. Swearing is very largely indulged in by men and women alike; it seems to come as naturally to them as swimming to a duck. Originally the words "wallah," "yallah," "billah," were used as swear expressions; but are now looked upon more as ejaculations equivalent to our "good gracious!" "goodness!" &c.; the real swear words being "wallahi," "billahi," &c. Some of the women cannot keep the expression wallah out of their conversation, though I try hard to persuade them to do so. For instance, a visitor comes; you remark to her on the extreme heat. "Wallah," comes the answer, "it is hot!" Or you inquire after some member of her family. "Wallah, she is very ill," is the reply. I was visiting one day in a Moslem house, and the old mother-in-law said to me, "What has happened to X.?" mentioning her daughter-in-law; "she never swears now!" I was indeed thankful for this unexpected tribute to that woman's efforts. We started an anti-swearing society amongst a few of the women; it was quite funny to see how they endeavoured to keep back the old familiar words which had been on their lips since childhood. One little boy joined with the women, and he found it hardest of all; but when we left he was still persevering. He learnt the Ten Commandments by heart, so whenever I heard him use a swear word I made him repeat the third commandment. The women are terribly fond of couching their denials in the form of oaths, as "May my hand be broken," "May I become blind," "May my interior become dried up if I did such and such a thing!" It makes me shiver sometimes to hear them swearing to a lie in this way; and I often tell them that if God only took them at their word, they would be stricken blind many times over. It is not an unknown thing for women to resort occasionally to fighting as a pastime, but I am thankful to say I have not seen much of it. A woman came to the Dispensary once with a fearful-looking hand: the thumb was about six times its normal size and had become gangrenous. My husband said the only possible cure was amputation; to this the woman would not consent. She said that a short time before she had been fighting with another woman, who had bitten her thumb in her fury. I asked this woman what she had done to her opponent. "Oh," she said, "I only pulled out her hair!" Another woman once brought me quite a handful of hair to show, which she declared her husband had just pulled out of her head in his anger; while he at the same time exhibited several ugly wounds on his hand caused by his wife's teeth! The man vowed he would divorce her, refusing to listen to any suggestions as to forgiveness, saying, "What would my neighbours say of me if I kept for my wife a woman who would do that?" pointing to the bites on his hand. However, in the end he did consent to take her back, being on the whole an amicably disposed man. Can we wonder that these things should happen when neither the men nor the women have ever learnt to control their passions? We have glanced at the lives of the Moslem women of Mosul. Can we say that they lead an ennobling, beautiful life? Are the home influences such as to foster a happy, peaceful spirit? On the contrary, we have seen that a woman deserves our pity and sympathy for all the sorrow she has to endure. Have we not seen that at birth she is unwelcome, as a child uncared-for and untaught, as a young woman imprisoned behind the veil, as a wife unloved, as a mother unhonoured; and when her weary life draws to a close she knows that she will go to her grave unmourned. Such in brief outline is the life of a Moslem woman. A woman's one place of recreation is the hammam. It is indeed a kind of ladies' club; here she throws away for the time being all her home worries and troubles, enjoying thoroughly her few hours of liberty. As a rule the bath takes at least two hours, and often half a day, if the woman has no special demands on her time. She generally goes in the morning, taking with her a complete change of raiment, a mat to sit upon in the cooling chamber, and plenty of towels, also some food to be partaken of after the exertions of the bath are over. I once went to one of these hammams, but the heat was so intense that I could only stand it for a few minutes. I often wonder how ever the women can exist in such great heat for so long; I suppose it is because they are used to it. Many illnesses date from a visit to the hammam; but still they would not give it up for any consideration, thinking it quite impossible to take a bath in the house. Certainly the Turkish bath is much cleaner than the Persian one. In the latter a large tank is used, and as it costs a good deal to warm up, the water is not changed very often. In the Turkish hammam each person has a tap for herself, from which flows presumably clean water. As a matter of fact sometimes this water has already been used, but only in the cheaper hammams. The most expensive baths have river water brought up for the purpose; in the others well water is used, and as this is brackish and very hard it is impossible to use soap, for it will not lather; therefore a special kind of earth is used, which is said to be very good for washing the hair with. When Judy, our woman servant, returns from the bath, she always comes and gives me a kiss, this being their custom, and we exchange the salutations usual upon any one returning from the hammam. CHAPTER VII CUSTOMS OF MOSUL Wedding ceremonies--Great expense to parents--Method of procedure--Funeral customs--Customs at birth--Some other customs. "The bridegroom's doors are open wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set; May'st hear the merry din." S. T. Coleridge. We have seen that a wedding is a very expensive matter in Mosul, especially to parents who possess three or four daughters; for unless the necessary gold, jewellery, and clothing are forthcoming as a dowry, the marriage will never take place. For this reason a man with a number of daughters will begin saving for their marriage portion and expenses while the girl is yet a baby, and the mothers will often commence gathering together clothing even before the child is betrothed, so that they may be better prepared for the expensive event when it does take place. Then, too, not only is there the outlay for the dowry and clothing, but also for the feasting of some hundreds, it maybe, of guests during the seven days following the marriage. A man of very fair means in Mosul once told me that the marriage of his daughters cost him at least £200 each, and as he had seven daughters the sum total required was not small. If this man with a good income found it hard work to produce the necessary cash, how much harder is it for those who have no settled income, or whose earnings are small. For instance, a native Christian whom we respected and liked very much had two daughters; both were betrothed and ready to be married. He was earning about £3 a month, and had a wife and six children to support--how could he provide all the necessary gold and other ornaments for his girls? And yet, if he did not, in all probability his daughters would never be married. There was only one way out of the difficulty, and that was to borrow at high interest, crippling himself for many years to come, perhaps for the rest of his life. Instances might be multiplied, but I think enough has been said to show that girls are expensive luxuries in Mosul as regards their weddings! Now as to the "preparations" for the great and eventful day. When a man makes up his mind to be married, or his parents decide in their minds that it is high time their son should take to himself a wife, many are the consultations which take place, and great is the importance of the women folk concerned. They are never so happy as when arranging for a marriage, loving the mystery and secrecy of it; for it would never do for a fond mother to offer the hand of her dear son in marriage to the mother of a possible bride and be refused. The shame and ignominy would be too great; so the mother and other female relations of the would-be bridegroom have to go very carefully to work in selecting the girl and in making any proposal for marriage. Before the actual "asking" is done, the way has to be prepared by very careful hints and indirect inquiries as to the girl's health, accomplishments, and dowry. If all proves satisfactory, then a formal proposal is made. The matter having gone so far, a refusal is very unusual, and, if given, is considered a great insult. I heard of one young man who threatened to murder all the relations of a girl for whom he had made proposals of marriage upon her parents refusing to accept his offer. I have often been asked by Moslem women to suggest some girl as a suitable bride either for their brother or son. On mentioning some girls whom I knew, their answers were something as follows: "Oh, but she has a white patch on her eye," or "She is too poor," or "She has a bad temper," or "She is not pretty." Their idea of beauty is that of a white, pasty, fat face, without a vestige of colour, except that which art applies! Of course, the man never sees the girl till the day of betrothal, and in the case of Moslems not till the actual marriage takes place. The old custom amongst the Christians of marrying a girl against her will is still extant in some villages. Sometimes it happens that a girl persists in her dislike to marry, even till the priest has arrived to tie the knot: in this case the father would bind the girl's arms and legs till the marriage ceremony was completed, when she was released, it being useless then for further resistance on her part. This is done even now in some villages near Mosul when the girl proves obstinate. As a rule, though, they accept their fate as "Naseeb," knowing it is little or no use to struggle against custom. How often my heart aches for some poor child who is bound to a man old enough to be her grandfather or great-grandfather sometimes. Alas, too often old in sin as well as years! When the day of the marriage approaches, invitations are sent out to all friends and relations for the specified days of feasting. First comes the day for taking the bride to the bath--this is considered a great function; then follows a week of excitement, dancing, singing, feasting, all forming part of the great event. All thoroughly enjoy themselves, even those who have to work the hardest in preparing the food. The guests are expected to remain from morning till sunset. Three meals are provided each day, the morning one consisting of bread, cream, butter, fruit, &c.; the midday meal is a substantial one of meat, cooked in various ways, rice, chicken, and vegetables according to the season. The evening meal is also a very heavy one, causing the guests to depart perfectly satisfied both with their dinner and themselves. During the whole of the week the poor bride has to sit in the reception room on a cushion specially prepared for brides, and takes no part in the surrounding gaieties. Each day she appears in a fresh silk dress, and is often covered with golden jewellery. She is not supposed to speak till spoken to, and the guests do not take much notice of her beyond the usual kiss of salutation. At meal times she is "fed" by her relations, a bride being supposed to be too overcome to help herself or eat without assistance. After the days of feasting are over, the bride takes her place in the house as "servant" to her mother-in-law. In a Moslem house the youngest and latest bride always becomes the servant of all for the first year of married life, or till another and younger one is brought to the home. Much depends on the mother-in-law's character as to the happiness or otherwise of the inmates of the hareem. If they wish, they can make the lives of the young wives perfectly miserable, or the reverse. The same custom of feasting for a certain number of days takes place too in connection with funerals. The guests who come to mourn sit in solemn silence all day long; their mourning does not lessen their appetite, however, for they thoroughly enjoy their "feast" of sorrow. After a death, the "wailers" are brought in. I went once to a Christian house of mourning to see these wailing women. It was a ghastly sight. The professional wailers sat on the ground in the centre of the relations and guests, and worked themselves and others into such a frenzy that I thought some would have fainted from exhaustion; slapping their knees, tearing their hair and clothes, till they resembled maniacs more than women. A short time ago a very sad and sudden death took place in Mosul in a house very close to us. We were awakened one night, while sleeping on the roof, by hearing the terrible wailing sounds coming from our neighbour's house. At the same time a messenger arrived in great haste, asking my husband to go at once to see the patient, as his relatives were not sure if he was dead or only in a fit. He had been out during the night to some Moslem religious function, and died quite suddenly on his return. The wailing went on in the hareem for seven days, and was terrible to hear. The sound of the weird wailing of some hundred women is perfectly indescribable, always ending up with a piercing shriek which seems to rend the air and freeze one's blood. Being friends and neighbours, I paid daily visits to the mourners during that week, but did not sit amongst the guests, preferring to spend the time with the sisters of the deceased in a quiet room above the din and uproar of the courtyard. The wailing has such a hopeless sound, as of a lost soul in anguish. One longed for them to know of Jesus the Living One, and of the time when partings shall be no more. After death has visited a family, the whole house in which the departed one lived is not swept for three days: this is because they believe that the angel of death is still hovering near, and they fear lest, while they are sweeping, others of the household may be swept from the house by the angel. So the house becomes very dirty, the carpets covered with cigarette ash and ends, but nothing can be touched till the third day is safely passed. Amongst the Christians it is also the custom after the death of a relative, not to go to the hammam (bath) for six months, and for the men to go unshaven for at least six weeks. The women are very particular about not going to the hammam while mourning, as I found to my sorrow. Our woman servant Judy lost her father just before she entered our service, and she allowed a whole year to elapse before she could be prevailed upon to go to the bath. They are very particular, too, about wearing "deep" clothing--that is, dresses of some dark colour, not necessarily black. I am sure that the custom of burying a few hours after death is often the cause of many people being buried alive. I have often been regaled by an old woman with horrible stories of how some friends of hers have just escaped being buried alive. For those who providentially escape being entombed alive one is thankful; but what of the many who most certainly are condemned to this awful fate. It is too terrible to contemplate. In a land where no medical certificates are required, and where the body is carried to the cemetery almost before it is cold, how can it be otherwise? But to proceed to other and more pleasing customs--let us pass from death to life. When a child is born in Mosul, whether Moslem or Christian, the first idea of the parents is to protect the child from the baneful influence of the Evil Eye. The usual custom is to thread a gall, and suspend it round the neck of the infant. Moslems enclose a portion of the Koran in a little bag, and fasten that round the arm of the child or sew it on to the cap. The custom of wearing charms to avert the Evil Eye is very prevalent, and deeply rooted in the minds of the Mosul people. The kissing of hands is a very pretty custom. Children are all taught to do this even before they can speak or walk. Servants are always very anxious to kiss your hands after they have done something especially annoying or irritating. They make a grab for your hand, and kiss it before you realise what they are doing. In this way they secure your forgiveness before the fault is confessed. I am getting more wary now, and prefer to hear first what they have done before letting them kiss my hand. It is also a sign of gratitude. Upon receiving any backsheesh or present, the recipient is always ready to kiss your hand. Sometimes, when riding through the city, I have had my hand grasped and kissed by some passer-by who has been an in-patient in the hospital, and wished to show his gratitude in this way. It requires a great deal of gratitude or love for a man to kiss a woman's hand, so, when by chance it does occur, I feel very much honoured indeed. There is one custom which is often the cause of a great deal of heartburning, even as it was in the days of Haman and Mordecai. It is usual for a host or hostess to rise from their seat upon the arrival of each guest--that is, if they desire to do honour to that person. As a rule this custom is most carefully adhered to, but it lends itself admirably to any one wishing to be rude to his guest or to shame him before his friends. Fortunately, this is not often the case, but when it does happen one feels very uncomfortable. There is one dear old lady in Mosul, who thinks it beneath her dignity to rise to a Feringhi. But, perhaps, it is excusable for her as she is a Hadji--that is, one who has made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and, consequently, is treated as an exalted being by all her friends and relations. A rather quaint and pleasing custom in Mosul is that of sending trays containing a dinner all ready cooked and dished to new-comers, or to those returning after a long period of absence. We did not know of this custom when first we went to Mosul, so were very surprised at sunset on our second day after arrival to see two or three men coming into the compound carrying huge trays on their heads. They explained that their master, a Moslem merchant, had sent this meal, with many salaams and good wishes. It was a dinner large enough for twenty people, so we gathered together all we could find on the premises, assistants, catechist, and others, who had been kindly helping us to settle down. Spreading some Persian carpets in the courtyard, we sat down and thoroughly enjoyed our first Arab meal in Mosul. When any one is leaving the place or starting on a journey, it is customary for the people to send in large trays containing sweetmeats, cakes, and other eatables suitable for taking with you on the road. When we were leaving Mosul, we received quite a large number of these trays--so many, indeed, that at the end of our fourteen days of desert we still had a good many of their contents remaining. Some of these were made of almonds pounded and mixed with sugar; others were made from puff pastry sandwiched with honey: these latter were especially nice. Distributing food to the poor as a mark of gratitude and thankfulness is another of Mosul's good customs. After recovering from a dangerous illness, it is usual to make and distribute a large quantity of bread, baked in a special way, and flavoured with caraway seeds. The birth of a son and heir is also celebrated by a generous and lavish distribution of meat and bread. When starting on a journey, too, it is usual to give away to the poor either money or food. On every occasion of life which calls for gratitude to God, this custom of presenting offerings to the poor is carried out. One dear woman, a friend of mine, went even further than this. It was thought at one time that we should be leaving Mosul for good, the Mission being withdrawn. Providentially, this was over-ruled, and when the news arrived from England that the Mission was to be kept on, great were the rejoicings amongst the people. The woman mentioned above immediately desired to show her thankfulness to God in a very special way, so spent one whole day in making a large supply of small loaves of bread, not to distribute to the poor, but to feed the hungry, starving dogs of the streets. This by a Moslem woman was, indeed, a work of love, dogs being looked upon as unclean beasts. Surely she "that loveth much shall be forgiven much." Coffee-making and drinking is associated very much with life in Mosul. It is the custom there to give every one who comes to the house a cup of Arab coffee. This meant sometimes for us giving at least 200 cups in a day. Not only those who come as social visitors receive the coffee, but also all who come to the house on whatever pretext, whether for meetings, classes, or what not. At feast times one servant is always told off to do nothing else but prepare the coffee for the guests. On each of the great feasts, such as Christmas and Easter, it is the custom for every one to call, Moslems and Christians alike. At Christmas the feast lasts for three days, and at Easter a week, the whole of which time coffee must be ready to be handed at once to every caller; also a tray of sweets, consisting of Turkish delight, almond sugar, and other Mosul-made confections. When a house is "mourning," bitter coffee is given to all callers for six months, and on the first day of each feast for a whole year. I do not think I have ever visited a Moslem house, however poor, without receiving either a cup of coffee or some sweets. I often beg them not to make preparations for me, but they always insist, as their hospitable instincts are very strong. Indeed, more often than not, they set before me not only coffee or sweets, but meat, fruit, and lebban (sour milk). A true Arab of the desert takes about an hour to make a cup of coffee. First of all the coffee has to be roasted, then ground to powder, and, lastly, boiled. The Arabs never sweeten their coffee, sugar not being a commodity of the desert. I once heard the recipe for making Arab or Turkish coffee. Perhaps some readers may like to try their hand at making it. First roast the coffee to a rich brown, neither too light nor too dark, then grind it to a soft powder. Now comes the art of making good coffee. Half-fill the pot with cold water; bring it to boiling point. Throw in a handful of powdered coffee; allow it to boil; shake down and bring it to the boil again. Repeat this process three times, and the coffee is ready. Specially note: Never wash the pot! Needless to say, this last injunction I do not carry out, but the servants quite believe in that part of the recipe. It is only with great difficulty I can persuade them to wash out the coffee-pot occasionally. In summer, this reluctance on their part often leads to serious complications. The kitchen, as may be supposed, is not a very cool place during the hot season, consequently it suffers continually from a plague of flies. Dead flies are often served up in puddings and other dishes, to act presumably as an appetiser! Then eating requires a great effort. The coffee-pot seems to serve as a trap for many of these flies, attracted no doubt by the sugar, and there they find a coffee grave. Suddenly a visitor is announced, and the message is conveyed to the kitchen to "Send coffee at once." The cook seizes the pot, never looking to see how many victims are struggling in the dregs at the bottom, adds a little freshly-ground coffee, boils it up, and sends it in to the visitor served in dainty little cups. The visitor takes one sip, and...! I will draw a veil over the sequel. A mouthful of dead flies is not a very palatable drink. My feelings may be better imagined than described. Sometimes a guest does not approve of the way the coffee is made (even when minus flies); if so, she is not shy, and does not hesitate to hand it back with a grimace, saying to your servant: "What horrid coffee! why do you not make better?" and often demands another cup properly made. A visit to the bread-makers may not be out of place here. It is the custom amongst some of the people to bake bread once a month, sufficient to last that length of time. Baking-day is a day to be dreaded. The process begins soon after midnight, when the woman arrives to prepare the flour and "set" the dough for rising. The whole of that day every woman on the premises is pressed into service--one to make the dough into little cakes, another gives it a preliminary roll, then hands it to her neighbour, who uses a smaller roller, and finally hands it on to some one else to finish it off. When completed, the bread is about as thin as note-paper and as large round as a child's wooden hoop. The bread is now ready to be baked. The fuel used for heating the oven is chopped straw and goats' dung, which is burnt till the required heat is obtained; then these large thin pieces of bread are plastered to the sides of the oven, and removed as they are browned to an exact nicety. This bread is very nice when fresh and crisp; when stale, it is generally soaked in water before being brought to the table. We do not make our bread in this way. I tried it once for the hospital in-patients, but found it took far too much time. The daily baking is much more suitable when from thirty to forty people have to be fed daily. CHAPTER VIII DREAMS AND VISIONS Ezekiel's vision by the river Chebar--Our vision by the river Khabour--Rivers identical--"A wheel within a wheel"--Babylonish emblem of divinity--Origin of the cherubim--Dream of a woman suffering from cataract--Effect of dream on her character--Watch and chain recovered by means of a "faked" dream--Illustration of the doctrine of Kismet or Naseeb--"Ghosts" in our compound--Atmosphere of ghosts bad for fowls. "O dreamer, dream thy dream, and dream it true. Sir Lewis Morris. "Did not Heaven speak to men in dreams of old?" Lord Tennyson. "... The vision of my soul Has looked upon its Sun and turns no more To any lower light." Sir Lewis Morris. Dreams and visions have a great influence on the Eastern mind. They believe most firmly that God often speaks by means of these agencies, using them as a warning of impending danger, or as a voice of instruction. Ezekiel was no exception to this rule, for we read in the words of his prophecy, "That the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God." This vision was given to him as he stood by the river Chebar in the land of the Chaldeans. The river Chebar is none other than the Khabour, over which we have passed more than once in our "journeyings oft." When on our way back to England we crossed this river, and as we sat near its banks, even as Ezekiel did of old, we too were vouchsafed a "vision of God." We had travelled through a weary stretch of waterless desert that day, and were rejoicing in the fact that our camping-ground for the night was by the banks of a river--the Chebar. Only those who have journeyed for days through a parched-up desert land can tell the joy with which a river is sighted. We experienced something of that joy on the evening when we saw water for the first time for two or three days. We pitched our camp as close to the river as possible, and, sitting at our tent door, prepared to enjoy to the full the beauties before us. Looking up I saw in front of me a glorious sight. I quickly called my husband, and together we stood and watched this wonderful vision. The sun was sinking as a ball of fire behind the river, when suddenly from its centre there arose beautiful prismatic lights. These gradually resolved themselves into the form of a huge wheel, each spoke of the wheel being of a different colour, merging gradually and almost imperceptibly into the next, as in the rainbow. Within this "wheel" was another and smaller one, also composed of the same prismatic hues. The outer circle of each wheel was formed by a band of bright opaque light. On the top of these wheels was a visionary form resembling the beginning of another wheel, but it was too indistinct for me to say what definite shape it possessed. At either side of these wheels was a large wing, as it were overshadowing the wheels; these were also of a bright white. The whole formed a most wonderful and never to be forgotten sight, and we felt indeed that this was a vision of God. While in Mosul my husband had received a letter from a gentleman in England, asking him to keep a look-out for any such phenomenon as this. On reaching home it was interesting to find on good authority that the sight we had seen on the banks of the Khabour was one of historical interest. The form of the wheels is almost identical with the emblem which the Babylonians adopted to represent Divinity. On the same authority I learnt, too, that in all probability a vision similar to this was the origin of the cherubims. It is believed by an expert on the subject that the whole of the "vision" is caused by atmospheric influences, the sun acting on the particles of frost in the air, thus forming the prismatic colours. Be this as it may, the result was truly marvellous, and we were thankful that we had been privileged to see "the heavens open," revealing this vision of God. The whole spectacle could not have lasted more than five minutes, but the sky retained its blaze of colour for about a quarter of an hour after; then darkness covered the heavens. The natives of Mosul are great believers in dreams, and accept them as good or bad omens. A short time ago a Moslem woman came to the Dispensary suffering from double cataract. She had been quite blind for many years, and was very anxious for an operation, saying if only she could have enough sight to sweep the compound she would be satisfied, as then she could earn her livelihood. The doctor, after examining her eyes, told the woman that he could not promise her a good result from the operation, as her eyes were not healthy. However, as she was absolutely blind, it was worth while to try, and perhaps she might see sufficiently afterwards to find her way about. Accordingly she was admitted to the Hospital to await her time for operation. She was a very affectionate woman, and seemed to be gifted with great powers of intuition. When I went to the door of the ward, even before I spoke, she always called out, "There's my khatoun!" Sometimes I crept in quietly just to see if she would know I was present; she almost invariably did, and sitting up in bed would listen intently, and then say to one of the other patients, "Is not the khatoun here?" Then when she felt my hand, she would grasp it and say, "I knew it, I knew it; I felt here" (pointing to her heart) "that my khatoun was in the room!" She was such an excitable woman that my husband feared that she would do something foolish either at the time of the operation or after. He warned her that if she did not keep quiet she might lose her eye altogether; but as the fateful day approached she became more and more nervous. One morning, however, she appeared quite calm, and hastened to tell us the reason of her peace of mind. During the night she had seen a vision which had quieted all her fears and made her trustful and believing. In her dream she seemed to be walking in the desert, where she met a mullah, who immediately began to revile and curse her. While he was thus engaged the woman saw a form coming towards her which she knew to be that of our Lord (Jesus the Living One, as He is called in Arabic). He began to speak gently to the woman, asking her why she was weeping; she replied by telling our Lord that the mullah had been cursing her. In her dream she then saw (although blind) that our Lord turned to the mullah and rebuked him for cursing the woman. Then turning to the wondering woman, He said, "Do not weep, my daughter, for the English doctor is going to give you sight in a few days," and then He left her. She awoke firmly convinced that this was a special revelation from God through Jesus our Lord to assure her that her eyesight was to be restored. From that time she was perfectly calm and quiet, and remained so the whole time she was in the hospital. The day before the operation she was again warned that she might not see any better after; but she smiled and said, "To-morrow I shall see!" Her faith was rewarded, as the operation was successful, and after two or three weeks she went out with very good vision in one eye, and she is waiting for our return to have the other operated upon. My husband was once travelling "chappa" (post) in Persia from Yezd to Kerman, when one evening he found to his great sorrow that he had lost his gold watch and chain. Both were very valuable to him on account of their associations, so he was very sad at the thought of losing them. The same night he met another Englishman who was returning to Yezd. He told him of his loss, and asked him to make inquiries along the road, offering a reward to any one who would bring back his watch and chain. His friend promised to do all he could, and, calling his servant, explained to him about the loss, and told him to keep a sharp look-out for any news of the lost goods. This servant was a very smart man. The next morning they met a camel caravan on the road to Kerman, and the servant went up to the driver and said to him-- "Oh, my noble brother, may your kindness never grow less; my sleep has been troubled last night by dreams of you." "Estakfarullah!" (God forbid), says the camel-driver. "Why was my lord's sleep disturbed by dreams of me, who am not worthy?" "Yes; I saw in my dream that you stooped and picked up something." "Then your dream was wrong," hastily interposed the camel-driver, "for I have picked up nothing." "And lo! in my dream," continued the wily servant, "I saw that the thing which you picked up was worthless, only a cheap thing which will bring you no gain." The camel-driver here looking sad, the servant continued: "But the owner of that worthless thing is very anxious to find it, as although of no value in money, yet he cherishes it as a thing he loves." "But I told you," repeats the camel-driver, "that I never picked up anything." "Then in my dream," continues the servant, carefully ignoring the reiterated denial of the camel-driver, "I saw you glance at this useless object in your hand and then place it inside your aba" (cloak). "No, no," cries the driver, "I never picked it up." "So if you will let me show you where it is, I can relieve you of this worthless object." After a little more parleying of this sort, the camel-driver produces my husband's watch and chain, and receives in return a small backsheesh. The servant, highly delighted with himself and his sagacity, smiled as he pockets in imagination the promised reward of five tomans (£1). The camel-driver confessed afterwards that he was so taken aback at the idea of his deeds being revealed in a dream to this man that he would not have kept the watch at any cost. Needless to say the "dream" was only a faked one, manufactured to work on the superstitious mind of the simple camel-driver. In Mosul the chief of the Seyyids once told the doctor a story relating to a remarkable dream. It was as follows. Two men once called on a mullah to question him regarding a matter which had been troubling them. The cause of their dispute was this. On going to their work each day these men passed a ladder leaning against a wall. One of the two always avoided going under lest it should fall and kill him; while the other said, "No, I will not run from danger, for whatever Allah has decreed must be. If it is written that I am to be killed by the ladder, I shall be." So the two friends, after having spent much time in arguing this knotty question, decided to lay the matter before a mullah and leave the decision to him. The mullah listened to them both, but told them that such a serious question needed much thought. He appointed a day for them to return and hear his verdict. After their departure the mullah fell into a sleep, and in his sleep he dreamed. In the dream he beheld a beautiful boy, the son of a king whom his soul loved exceedingly; then later he met a stranger, who told him that he (the mullah) was to cause the death of the boy he loved so much. The mullah, filled with indignation, repudiated the idea, saying that he loved the boy too much to do him any harm. "Nevertheless," said the stranger, "it must be, for Allah has decreed that the boy is to meet his death through you, and what is written is written." The old mullah returned to his house troubled and sad at heart, but determined that he would do nothing that could in any way bring disaster to the boy. Still dreaming, the mullah received a summons to visit the young prince. Remembering the words of the stranger, he took with him nothing that could in any way injure the boy, contenting himself by taking with him one gift only--an apple. The boy received the mullah in his beautiful island home, and the two enjoyed some blissful hours of converse together. Finally, ere saying farewell, the old man with extended hands presented the apple to the boy, who gladly accepted it, and proposed eating it at once. The mullah, taking a penknife from his inner pocket, peeled the apple, and returned it on the point of the knife to the young prince, who, boylike, grasped it eagerly. In taking the apple the point of the knife pricked the finger of the lad, with the result that blood poisoning set in, and in a short time the beautiful boy lay dead. The mullah in his sorrow wept aloud, and as he wept he awoke. With humble heart and head bowed in submission, he gave glory to Allah. On the day appointed the two men returned to hear the verdict of the wise mullah. He received them kindly, but sorrowfully, assuring them that it made not the slightest difference whether they walked under the ladder or not. "For," said the old man, "if it is written that you are to be killed by a ladder falling upon you, it must be so, you cannot escape. What Allah has written must be fulfilled. His designs cannot be frustrated." This doctrine, taught to the old mullah by means of his dream, is very prominent in the minds of all Moslems to-day. When in Persia we had an Indian servant who was a Mohammedan. He told us that three times on successive nights our Lord had appeared to him in a dream, in the form of an old man with a long white beard. So struck was he with the persistency of the dream, that he went to an English clergyman, asking to be taught the Christian religion. The women in Mosul have often told me of wonderful things which they declared were going to happen to me, as had been revealed to them in dreams. Even now I receive letters from some of these women in which they say, "We see you every night in our dreams." The first women in-patients in our so-called hospital in Mosul had to be content with a kind of outhouse for their ward. The only place we could find for them which would be hareem was a large room which we used as a wood-house. This my husband had whitewashed and thoroughly cleansed and disinfected. The first unfortunate woman to be put in this ward (?) was a very quiet, gentle Moslem woman, who came for an operation. Her mother came with her to look after her, and these two were alone in their none too comfortable quarters. Two or three days after the operation, these women declared that in the night a huge form of dragon-like appearance rose from the ground at their side! Some weeks later this ward was occupied by a little Jewish girl who had been terribly burnt, her mother and grandmother looking after her. There were also two or three other women in the ward. One morning very early, word was brought to us that all the inmates of that room had been terribly frightened in the night. On going out to see what had happened, we found them all lying in the passage, having carried their bedding out of the room. They were looking very unhappy and frightened, and requested to be allowed to leave the hospital at once, saying they would not pass another night in that awful place. Then they all began to recount their experiences of the night at the same time, so it was with great difficulty we could find out what really had happened. It seems that soon after midnight they were talking to one another, when suddenly they saw two soldiers sitting on the edge of their bedsteads. Terribly alarmed, they asked the men however they came to be there--did they not know it was "hareem"? At first the soldiers remained silent, but afterwards told the women that they had come from a village about twelve miles off. That they had been told in a dream to come to the beit hakeem Engelisi (house of the English doctor). In obedience to this command they had come. Then, as suddenly as they had arrived, they disappeared. The women, of course, were all fearfully alarmed, some believing that they were real soldiers, others that they were genii in the form of soldiers. They immediately left the room, carrying their bedding with them, and spent the rest of the night in fear and trembling. The next morning we made a very careful examination of the roof, to see if by any possible means soldiers could have entered our compound. We found that next door was the house of the head of the soldiers, and it was possible that some of his guard might have found their way over the walls and down to our house. Nothing, however, was ever proved; but no one could ever be induced to use that room again, the women declaring that it was haunted by evil spirits. Finally, we made it into a hen-house; but the fowls and turkeys all sickened and died, so there evidently was something very wrong with the atmosphere of that room! Our first attempt at a women's ward was certainly a failure, but "it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good," and so good came out of this evil. As the women would not use the haunted (?) room, other accommodation had to be found, so we gave up our house for them, while we moved into the one next door--the room which was neither good for human beings nor for feathered fowls being now used as a wood-house. Once when travelling in the desert, a spot was pointed out to us as being the abode of Jinns and Genii. This spot is much abhorred by the muleteers, as they believe that any one camping on that ground is liable to be overtaken by a terrible death. The enchanted ground is encircled by some landmarks, and it is said that any one going to sleep within that magic circle will at once be visited by the Jinns inhabiting the spot, who will immediately come and suck his blood till he is dead. CHAPTER IX MANNERS AND SUPERSTITIONS IN MOSUL Characteristics of inhabitants of Mosul--Social habits--Love of drink--An effectual cure--Gambling--Tel Kaif: a story of Uncle Goro--The Angel of Death and other titles--Difficulties over name and age--Some superstitions--Effect of scent on women--Birds of good omen--Thieves--Sheep-killing--Sheikh Matti--An angel's visit--Medical superstitions--Cure for hydrophobia. "Nothing has more effect upon the mob than superstition." Quintus Curtius. "To be superstitious is a crime." Anon. "Sickness and sorrow come and go, but a superstitious soul hath no rest." R. Burton. The natives of Mosul are, as a rule, a very simple-hearted folk. They are easily amused, easily taken in, and as easily roused to passion. They are, on the whole, good-tempered and patient, and, considering the absolute lack of self-control in their method of bringing up, they give way far less to their passions than might be expected. They dearly love social habits, and spend much time in company, telling and listening to stories, smoking, and drinking coffee. Unfortunately, they do not confine their drink to coffee, and these social habits often lead to a great deal of drinking. Arak is the favourite refreshment at these times, and is indulged in by both Christian and Moslem alike. It is a pure spirit, and is made by the Christians and Jews of Mosul, and sold by them to the Moslems. No ceremony is complete without the arak bottle. At weddings, funerals, dinner parties, at each and every season of life, it is thought necessary to provide this fire-water. I am sorry to say that the women also drink, but not to such an extent as the men. It is, of course, considered a great sin for a Moslem to drink either wine or spirit, as both have been forbidden in the Koran: but their love for the arak is stronger in many cases than their love of the Koran. A Mosul Moslem woman told me a short time ago that she did not think there was one Moslem man in Mosul who did not drink either wine or arak. I hope this is an exaggeration, but the tendency to be less ashamed of the drinking habit and to indulge in it more freely is growing more and more. It is sad to think that the Christians of the city are the manufacturers and vendors of spirit and wines, and that they are responsible for introducing them into Mosul. A story is told of a Sultan of Turkey who, desirous of putting a stop to the ever-increasing drink traffic, made a law by which every Moslem found the worse for drink should be cast into prison. The first morning after the new law had come into action, a Moslem was found drunk lying in the street, incapable of walking to his home. He was immediately taken to prison, and allowed to sleep off the effects of the drink. When he awoke, great was his surprise to find himself in the interior of a prison. On being taken before the judge, he pleaded "Not guilty," and said that he had been suffering for some days from a terrible pain in his tooth, and yesterday had gone to the hakeem (doctor) to obtain medicine to relieve the pain. The doctor had told him that the best cure for his pain was to drink a little brandy, so he had followed his advice, with the result that he fell asleep and only awoke to find himself in prison. The judge then commiserated the man on having such bad pain, but assured him it was easily remedied. Calling to one of his servants, he ordered him to go at once and fetch the barber, who acted as dentist to all such sufferers. The prisoner assured his excellency the judge that it really did not matter, the pain was better. "But," said the judge sympathetically, "it may come back." The barber was brought and told to examine the man's mouth. Finding no sign of decay, he assured the judge that the teeth were sound. The judge began to revile the dentist, saying, "You call yourself a dentist and do not know which is the tooth causing this man pain. Find it, and pull it out at once." Trembling, the dentist took his forceps and extracted a back tooth. "Let me see," cried the judge. "Why, that is not rotten; what do you mean by pulling out a good tooth? Pull the rotten one out at once." Then the dentist again operated on his unwilling victim, and a second time the judge upbraided him for not drawing the right tooth, and ordered him to go on till he had found the one that was decayed. The wretched prisoner, feeling he could not bear to lose any more teeth, called out that it was all a lie: he never had had any toothache, and only drank brandy because he loved it, and promised never to touch it again. The judge smilingly bade his prisoner begone, warning him, however, that next time he offended all his teeth might have to come out. Closely associated with drinking is the gambling habit. This too, alas! is very prevalent in Mosul. In almost every house card-playing forms the chief pastime both in the hareem and amongst the men, and, as a rule, they play for money. Enormous sums of money are lost and won in this way, and, unfortunately, those in good positions are the ones who profit most by this gambling habit. One lady was the possessor of many beautiful jewels, diamonds, pearls, &c., and I was told that she had won them all by gambling. We are always very glad to take part in the social customs of the people when neither drinking nor gambling is part of the programme, and I, at least, certainly very much enjoy a dinner served à l'Arabe, with its attendant native entertainment. The after-dinner story-telling is very amusing when you have mastered the language sufficiently to be able to follow the drift of the tale. Shortly before leaving, we gave a farewell dinner to some of our friends, and, after dinner, entertained them with fireworks, while one of the guests amused us all by recounting stories, some of which were very interesting. One was as follows:-- "There is a village near Mosul called Tel Kaif, in which all the inhabitants are Christians. They are a very original set of people, differing altogether from the Christians of Mosul in language, dress, and customs. They consider they are quite the most clever and important people under the sun, and this idea is apparent in all their actions. Many years ago there lived in Tel Kaif a very clever and wise man called Uncle Goro. If any one was in trouble he immediately went to this man for advice; if any were sorrowful, it was to Uncle Goro they looked for consolation; were any sick, again it was Uncle Goro alone who could heal them. In fact, Uncle Goro was looked upon by the admiring villagers as their one hope and stay in times of need. One day a cow belonging to the village felt very thirsty. Now, the water supply of Tel Kaif is not very good, the villagers being dependent upon a large pool of rain-water, which sometimes dries up during the long-continued season of drought. Doubtless this cow did not approve of drinking dirty rain-water, so, while seeking for other means of slaking her thirst, she espied near the doorway of a house a large earthen water-pot. Into this she looked longingly, but her horns at first prevented her from reaching the water. However, after a little careful manipulation and perseverance, she managed to insert her head into the jar. When she had satisfied her thirst, she tried to withdraw her head, but found she could not, so there it had to remain, while the bewildered villagers looked on in helpless astonishment. At last they decided to appeal to their wise man, so one went off in search of him. When he arrived on the spot and beheld the cow with her head in the water-jar, he considered thoughtfully for a while, and then gave his advice in the following learned manner. "Oh, my children," he cried, "here is such a simple matter, and yet you could not find a way out of the difficulty. I am surprised that my fellow-men should be so ignorant." Then they all crowded round Uncle Goro, beseeching him out of his great wisdom to tell them what to do. "First," said Uncle Goro, "you must cut off the cow's head, then break the water-pot and take out the head!" This brilliant suggestion was at once put into practice, the owner of the cow being the only one who was not quite so sure of the exceeding greatness of the wisdom of Uncle Goro. When the deed was accomplished and the head extricated from its awkward position, the old man stood and proudly addressed the assembled crowd who had flocked to hear his words of wisdom. "My beloved children," said he, "a day will come when your old Uncle Goro will die, and then what will you do when you have no one to settle such difficult matters as these for you? Pray to God that your Uncle Goro may long be spared to advise and counsel you." A rather pretty custom exists in Mosul which gives people titles according to their work, or any special characteristics belonging to them. For example, the butcher is called "the father of meat"; the baker, "the father of bread." In the hospital, when I am giving orders for the diet list, we hardly ever speak of the patients by name, but according to their disease, as "Aboo" (father) liver abscess, "Aboo-mai-abiyud" (father of cataract). One of the assistants in the hospital was named "The Angel of Death" by a poor little girl who was brought to the doctor a mass of burns. It was the duty of this assistant to dress the terrible wounds of the child every day, and though as gentle as a woman, he necessarily pained her a great deal--hence the term "Angel of Death." The women are designated in the same way as the men, only substituting "mother" for "father," as "Em haleeb," milk-woman; "Em saba' saba'een," mother of seventy-seven (or centipede), this last simply referring to a girl suffering from hysteria. This was an interesting case which was in the women's hospital for some weeks. The patient was a young woman about sixteen years of age. She was under the delusion that she had swallowed a "saba' saba'een" (a horny centipede, measuring some seven or eight inches, common in Mosul). She declared she could not eat anything, for every time she swallowed, the saba' saba'een opened its mouth and ate the food just partaken of! She absolutely refused to touch anything of her own accord, so we had to force food down her throat. Two or three women would hold her hands and feet while I fed her with a spoon. As time went on she became worse instead of better, and was always beseeching my husband to operate on her and take out the saba' saba'een. After a time he consented to give her an anæsthetic and operate. On the day appointed she was taken to the theatre and given a whiff of chloroform, while the doctor made a slight incision in her skin. This was stitched up, and she was shown her wound and assured that the doctor had cut her and found nothing. After this she was much happier, and was soon well enough to leave the hospital. Women never know their age in Mosul. On dispensary days each woman is required to give her name and age. The first difficulty is over the name. Many do not know their surnames at all. When asked, "What is your father's name?" they say, "How do I know?" and then add with a laugh, "Say Bint Abdulla" (daughter of a servant of God). Abdulla is often a very convenient name when the parentage is uncertain. With regard to their age, women are quite hopeless. I have often seen an old lady, bent double with the weight of many years, come into the dispensary. "Well, mother, how old are you?" I ask her. "How old am I? How do I know, my daughter?" "Do you think you are fifteen?" "Well, I may be." "Are you twenty yet?" "Perhaps I am," replies the fair damsel of eighty. "I know I was born two years before the year that the locusts ate all the corn." As to how many years ago the locusts destroyed the crop she has not the remotest idea. Or another woman will come, certainly not more than twenty or twenty-five, the mother of a baby in arms. On being asked her age she replies, "About sixty"! The natives never have any idea when their birthdays are, but keep their name-days instead. Thus amongst the Christians all Johns will keep the feast of St. John as their feast-day, and so on. Parents have a convenient way of forgetting the date of the birth of their daughters. A girl who is not betrothed will remain twelve or thirteen for much more than one year; for when she has passed fourteen or fifteen years she is no longer considered young, and not very likely to be betrothed at all if her real age is known. The natives of Mosul are very superstitious; more especially, perhaps, is this true of the women. One curious superstition they have with regard to scent. Now an odour which is filthy and dangerous, such as may be felt in most of the houses, is not at all injurious from their standpoint, but a sweet-smelling scent is an abomination to the women. If by any chance I have been using anything in the way of scent (though as a rule I am very careful not to), the first thing I see on entering a room is that the women all immediately apply their handkerchiefs to their olfactory organs. At first this custom appears, to say the least, not too polite; but when you realise \ what it means to them, you understand and excuse them. They firmly believe that a sweet smell brings sickness and sorrow--that it is equally fatal to mothers and young children--hence the great fear of anything in the way of scent. One day our reception-room was full of women who had come to visit me. Suddenly a visitor was announced (a native of the country, but not of Mosul); immediately all the women crowded into one corner, burying their heads in their chuddars. I could not make out what had disturbed them till I discovered that the new-comer was strongly scented. She was left severely alone by all the others, who kept as far away as possible from her, some even leaving the room, fearing lest evil should overtake them. Another day I went to visit a little patient of my husband's in whom he took a great interest. This little boy was the spoilt darling of his parents, the father especially idolising him, watching over him carefully lest any harm should befall him. Great was his consternation and distress when it was found that an operation was necessary to save the life of the boy. When the little chap was convalescent I went to see him. After talking to the mother some time in another room, she suggested our going to see the boy. No sooner had I appeared at the threshold of the door, when the boy buried his face in his hands, calling out, "Oh, you smell, you smell!" I assured both the mother and the boy that I had no scent of any kind on me, but the boy would not be pacified, and continued crying out, "Go away--you smell!" As he was still weak, I thought I had better depart, as excitement was bad for him. When visiting amongst the women it is better not to use scented soap, as they detect even that sometimes! Birds have a good many superstitions connected with them. Last year, while we were waiting for the decision of our committee regarding the future of the mission in Mosul, some women informed me that "good news was coming." Good news meant to them that the Mission was to be kept on. On asking how they knew, they told me they had just heard a bird singing which is supposed never to raise his voice except as the harbinger of good tidings. Storks are looked upon as omens of good luck. These birds return every spring to Mosul, hatch their eggs, and migrate in early autumn. The natives of Mosul always hail their return with great joy, especially if they nest on their roofs. Some will even go so far as to put baskets on the roofs, hoping that the storks will be attracted by them and make them their home for the summer. They agree with Longfellow in his love of storks, as expressed in his poem-- "By God in heaven As a blessing, the dear white stork was given." If there had been any truth in this superstition, we ought to have been very prosperous; for at one time we had no less than three families of storks on our roof. Personally I think they are not altogether too desirable, for when sleeping on the roof they are apt to become very noisy companions. I do not think I like to be laughed at by these birds. In the early morning they stand close by one's bed, throw back their heads till they rest on their backs, and then laugh aloud at the idea of any one sleeping when once dawn has appeared. The common name for storks in Mosul is "the thieves," as they sometimes steal small articles of clothing hanging out to dry, such as handkerchiefs; and no one would ever dare to go to the nest to hunt, lest they should disturb the birds and cause them to fly away. These birds are rather a convenience sometimes for the washerwoman: when blouses disappear it is easy to lay the blame on the "thieves." They are almost as useful as the proverbial "cat." Our servant Judy is a little woman full of queer superstitious ideas. While in Mosul I received the sad news of the death of my father: poor Judy was so distressed lest by over-much mourning I should tempt God to take my husband too. As dressmaking is rather primitive in Mosul I decided to have some things dyed black. Judy would not hear of such a thing, saying that only widows must wear dyed clothes, and that if I wore dyed dresses for my father, she was sure something would happen to my husband. Another thing she never would do, and that is to step over our feet! In the summer evenings we used to sit in our verandah, which was rather narrow, and if by chance we should place our feet on a hassock in front of us there remained no room for any one to pass. I could not make out why Judy would never pass that way when it was necessary to enter the room at our back. At last she told me that if she stepped over our feet, she would be in danger of "cutting our life," and that if we died it would be her fault. After this I often tried to make her step over my feet, by blocking her pathway, but she never would, so strong was her belief that by so doing she would cut short my life! It is surprising how ignorantly superstitious some of the better-class people are. A wife of a very wealthy Christian merchant in Mosul had a child who suffered terribly from sore eyes. She brought him to the dispensary for some time, but finding that the treatment pained the child and made him cry, ceased to bring him. We heard afterwards that she had resorted to the following superstitious method of healing. A sheep was bought, killed, and opened: while the blood was still hot the head of the child was inserted into the middle of the sheep's body and allowed to remain there about fifteen minutes. Could any treatment be more revolting and disgusting than this? and yet these people, rich and influential members of Mosul society, really believed that by doing this their child's eyes would be cured. Needless to say it had not the desired effect, and months afterwards they again brought the child to the dispensary, and having learnt their lesson by experience, were content to leave the child in the English hakim's hands, with the result that after a couple of months' daily treatment the eyes were quite healed. I do not know what virtue is supposed to exist in the killing of the sheep or goat, but it is a custom very much in vogue in Mosul. On our return from Beyrout, after having been absent three months, a live goat was brought out into the desert to meet us, and the moment we alighted from our carriage this poor creature was slaughtered right under our eyes. In Persia the custom amongst the Armenians at a wedding feast was for a sheep to be killed just as the bride and bridegroom were stepping over the threshold of their new home. It was not considered lucky if the bride did not put her foot into the blood as she passed. In Mosul, too, I believe a sheep is sometimes slaughtered at weddings in this way, but I have never seen it done. When a wife is desirous of becoming a mother, there are various superstitious methods to which she may resort, but perhaps the favourite one of all is that connected with Sheikh Matti. This is a monastery situated some twelve hours' ride from Mosul, on the side of a lonely mountain. The woman makes a pilgrimage to this place, and is then told that she must spend a night in the solitary chapel there. While she sleeps an angel will visit the building, and if her request is to be vouchsafed her, will place an apple by her head. If the angel desires to be especially kind to the woman, he will place two, or even three apples near her, the number of apples indicating how many children God is going to honour her with. Strange to say, these angel visits do not take place unless provoked by a fair amount of backsheesh! There are a good many superstitions regarding medical treatment of diseases and accidents, but these, I believe, are fast dying out in the face of European learning and skill. The people are learning by experience how much better are the English methods than their own. For instance, it used to be the common custom for those suffering from fever to go to the mullah, who would lay his hands on the patient's head while reading a few verses from the Koran. If the fever did not go at once, well, it was the fault of the fever, not of the mullah. I fancy fever patients are beginning to prefer English medicines rather than to trust to the laying on of hands by the mullah. When any one has been bitten by a mad dog, which, considering the number of street dogs, is of very rare occurrence, he goes at once to a sheikh, who will give him an antidote. This consists of a date from which the stone has been taken, and into which the sheikh has spat two or three times to fill up the gap caused by the removal of the stone. Upon eating this, the man is supposed to be free from all fear of the development of hydrophobia. These are merely a few of the superstitious customs found in Mosul to-day. Had we time or space they might be multiplied many times over, but enough, I trust, has been said to awaken love and sympathy in our hearts for these simple folk, whose minds are so easily influenced and guided by these useless and often degrading "Heart-chilling superstitions, which can glaze Even Pity's eye with her own frozen tears." Coleridge. CHAPTER X THE YEZIDEES Gratitude to the English--Persecutions--"Devil-worshippers"--Sun and fire worship--Priesthood--A visit to Sheikh Âdi--Peacock wands--A sacred shrine. "Whoever thou art, if thy need be great, In the Name of God, the Compassionate And All-Merciful One-- For Thee I wait." Whittier. The Yezidees, or, as they are commonly called, "devil-worshippers," are a very remarkable tribe living in the near vicinity of Mosul. Very little is really known as to their religious beliefs, and whether they worship the devil or only fear him, has never yet been discovered by Europeans. These curious people are very favourably disposed towards the English, as many years ago the British representative in Mosul was able to assist them very materially. The Mohammedans have always been very bitter against this people, and have done all in their power to exterminate them. A former Pasha at one time captured the high priest of the Yezidees, whose name was Sheikh Naser; he somehow managed to escape, substituting in his place a priest under him in authority. The priest never revealed this fact, and bore with resignation the tortures and imprisonment inflicted upon him. The Yezidees applied to Mr. Rassam, who was the British Vice-Consul at Mosul, and he obtained the release of the priest by paying a large sum as ransom money. This debt was faithfully repaid, and since that time the Yezidees have cherished very grateful memories of the English. Many years ago these Yezidees were a very powerful tribe. They had two principal strongholds, one in the mountains lying to the west of Mosul, and the other only twenty-four hours' journey to the north. By means of continual attacks and massacres at the hands of the Kurds, their population has been reduced considerably, only about one-third remaining of their original number. Mohammedans are always very bitter against any sect which is supposed to have no "Book." The Yezidees, coming under this category, receive little mercy from them, and for centuries have been exposed to persecutions from these their oppressors. Of late years the Yezidees have seen the uselessness of rebelling against their fate, and, acknowledging their defeat, are patiently bearing their misfortunes. These so-called devil-worshippers recognise one Supreme Being, but apparently do not offer any prayers directly to Him. The name of God is often on their lips in the form of oaths, but that of the evil spirit is never to be heard. So far do they carry this superstition, that not only will they not use the word Shaitan (Satan), but any word beginning with "sh" is also shunned by them. Then, again, such a veneration have they for Satan, that it is prohibited amongst the Yezidees to utter any word containing the letter sh (shin), being the first letter of the Arabic word for Satan. Thus they have to find other words to express such commonly spoken of objects as the sun, river, water-melon, &c., as they each begin with the prohibited letter. Layard, in his Travels amongst them, tells of one instance illustrating this superstition. He was standing in the midst of a large crowd of Yezidees gathered to take part in their yearly feast, when he espied a boy climbing a tree at the apparent risk of his neck. He says, "As I looked up I saw the impending danger, and made an effort by an appeal to the chief to avert it. 'If that young Sheit--' I exclaimed, about to use an epithet generally applied in the East to such adventurous youths. I checked myself immediately, but it was too late; half the dreaded word had escaped." He goes on to say that the effect was instantaneous, a look of horror spreading over the faces of all present. Fortunately for him, he was a favourite amongst the Yezidees, and so they allowed it to pass. So great is the horror of this letter, that they have often killed those who use it wilfully. When speaking of the devil they do so reverently, calling him the "mighty angel." The symbol of their religion is the "Malek el Taous," a peacock, and is held in great reverence by them. Satan is said to be the head of the angelic host, and he is supplied with seven archangels, who minister to him and exercise great influence over the world; they are Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Azrail, Dedrail, Azrapheel, and Shemkeel. Our Lord is also counted amongst the angels, though not one of these seven, and is acknowledged to have taken upon Himself the form of man. They, in common with the Mohammedans, do not believe in His crucifixion; but declare that He ascended to heaven just before that event took place, some saying that the angel Gabriel took our Lord's place on the Cross, while others say Judas was the real victim. They are looking forward to the second coming of Christ and also to the reappearance of the Imam; this latter being also the Mohammedan's hope. Their patron saint is one called Sheikh Âdi, who is supposed to have lived many years before Mohammed; but very little is known of his history. They reverence the sun, and are in the habit of kissing the object on which its first rays fall. Fire as a symbol is also connected with their worship, the disciples frequently passing their hands through the flame, kissing them, and then rubbing them over their faces. They have four orders of priesthood, which is hereditary, and consists of the Pirs, Sheikhs, Cawals, and the Fakirs. The Pirs (from a Persian word meaning old man) are the most reverenced next to their great sheikh or head of the sect. These are believed to possess the power not only of interceding for their adherents, but also of curing disease and insanity. They are supposed to lead a life of great sanctity, and are in consequence much looked up to by the people. The Sheikhs come next in order of rank. These are supposed to know a little Arabic, as their work is to write the hymns which are chanted at their religious services. They guard the tomb of Sheikh Âdi, bring fuel to keep up the holy fire, and provisions to those who dwell within the shrine. The third rank of priesthood is perhaps the most active of all. These are called Cawals or preachers, and it is their duty to go from village to village teaching the doctrines of the Yezidees. They are all musicians, being taught to sing when very young; they also perform on the flute and tambourine, both of these instruments being looked upon as holy. Before and after playing they often kiss their instruments, and pass them to the audience for them to do likewise. They dress as a rule in white and wear black turbans, while the sheikhs always wear nothing but white. They are generally venerable-looking men with long beards. They act as emissaries for the sheikh, and yearly go forth and collect the revenues. Their emblem of office is a wand, on the top of which is perched a brazen peacock, and they boast with pride that never have their enemies been able to capture one of these staves. They relate how on one memorable occasion a priest, being chased through the desert by Arabs, in the heat of the pursuit stopped his mare, descended, and buried the precious badge of office; then, marking the exact site for future reference, resumed his flight. Having escaped with his life, six months later he managed to recover the buried staff, creeping down by night into the desert from his mountain shelter. Now why should they place such a high value on these emblems? A possible solution was given me by the Rev. Dr. St. Clair Tisdall, who recalled to my mind an old Mohammedan tradition that it was the peacock who admitted Satan into the garden of Eden. This would strengthen the suspicion that the Yezidees really do worship the evil one. The lowest order in the priesthood are called Fakirs. These wear coarse dresses of black or dark-brown canvas, which reach only as far as the knees. Their office is to perform all the menial work connected with the tomb of Sheikh Âdi, sweeping and cleaning the sacred buildings, trimming and lighting the holy lamps. These lamps are offerings made by pilgrims who have visited the tomb in times of danger or sickness. A yearly sum is subscribed for the oil necessary for the lamps and for the support of the priests. At sunset each evening these lamps are lit, and give the appearance of a multitude of stars glittering on the side of the mountain; for not only are the lamps placed in the shrine and walls of the courtyard, but they are also scattered about on rocks and ledges and in the dark corners of the woods. As the priest goes from lamp to lamp lighting each one, men and women pass their hands through the flame and smear their foreheads, and those who have children do the same to them. This reverence for fire reminds one of the Parsees of Persia, whom these people in many ways resemble. Unfortunately I was unable to visit these interesting villages, but I hope to do so on a future occasion. We had intended to spend a month amongst them during the summer of 1906, the sheikh having extended a cordial invitation to us. My husband accordingly went up to reconnoitre, and see if there was any place possible either to stay in or to pitch our tent. He found, however, that it was hardly a suitable place for a summer holiday, as the climate was not very satisfactory, besides which it was difficult to find a place for the tents; so we decided we would not go that year at any rate. Both my husband and the men with him were quite ill for a few hours after visiting Sheikh Âdi, so they were not anxious to return. The natives say that this illness is caused by drinking the water, but that the effect passes off after a few days, when one has become accustomed to the water. My husband, however, much enjoyed his visit amongst these strange people, and in writing of that time he says:-- "These interesting people dwell in the mountains round about Mosul, the ancient Nineveh. They are ruled over by a sheikh, who claims to be able to put some ten thousand armed horsemen in the field. On account of their suspected devil-worship they are detested by Moslems and Christians alike. The Turks have more than once endeavoured to exterminate them; but, entrenched in their mountain fastnesses, they are very hard to overcome. "When in Mosul their sheikh called on me and asked me to pay him a visit up in his mountain home. Thus I was able to see their homes for myself, also the sacred shrine, hidden away in the mountains, where their reputed founder (Sheikh Âdi) lies buried, from whom it derives its name. "The Yezidees, like the Druses of Mount Lebanon, are very reluctant to discuss their religion, and it is said that death is the penalty for any one among them who reveals the truth concerning what they worship. "On paying a visit to their sacred shrine (Sheikh Âdi), I found it hidden in the hollow of thickly-wooded mountains, and composed of two large compounds, the inner compound containing the shrine in a church-like building with a newly-built steeple. On the right side of the entrance porch is the figure of a huge serpent graven in the stone of the building, with its head uppermost. This serpent is kept blackened daily with charcoal by the two or three old monks who live in the shrine. Upon inquiring the meaning of this symbol, the monk told me it was graven there to remind the worshippers to remove their sandals from off their feet, as the ground around the shrine is holy. If any should be careless or wicked enough to disobey, it was said that they would be bitten on the heels by some of the snakes that were said to infest the place. "The steeple rises immediately from the room in the church that once contained the body of their founder, Sheikh Âdi. This sheikh was a great Mohammedan teacher who many centuries ago used to preach and teach in Damascus. He gathered around him many disciples, and it is said he was accustomed to vary the monotony of his teaching by drawing a circle on the ground, and, placing therein himself and some favourite disciple, would enable the latter to hear and understand the teaching of another famous mullah speaking in far-away Baghdad. "This Sheikh Âdi some years before his death retired to this place in the mountains, two days' journey from Mosul, and there he was visited by many, as his fame spread abroad, and in this place he died and was buried. The Yezidees claim that, ere he died, he forsook Mohammedanism and instituted a new religion. The Moslems, however, reverence his memory, and say that the Yezidees, after his death, started a new religion of their own. "In the church there was to be seen a pool of water, said by them to be used as a baptistery, and little else but bare walls. My guide assured me it used to look very different, but fifteen years previously the Turks had captured the place and destroyed all they could lay hands on. On the roof near the steeple are two stones, facing east and west, said to be used as prayer-stones, the Yezidees praying as the first ray of the rising sun appears, and as the last ray of the setting sun departs, and use these stones as indicators. This, again, is interesting, as (according to Dr. Tisdall) it is a curious fact that Mohammedan tradition avers that it is alone at these two times daily that the devil has power to intercept the prayers of the faithful, and they are, therefore, to be scrupulously avoided by all true Moslems. "The Yezidees are loath to venture into the city, but a few have already commenced to attend the Mission Dispensary. They are easily recognised by their costume, and by the fact that no Yezidee is allowed to wear any garment exposing the breast. One of these patients informed me that when he wanted to worship he went to the priest (cawal), paid him a small fee, and was placed in a small room, the filthier the better, and made to sit on the floor. The priest would then sit in front of him and make him imagine himself to be in Paradise (the Eastern idea of Paradise--lovely garden, flowing stream, trees laden with fruit, houris, &c.). If (and it is a big 'if') his statement was true, it would point to their priests having some knowledge of hypnotism, but the Yezidees will say anything to mislead an inquirer. "We had a little Yezidee boy in hospital with his mother. He had been successfully operated upon for stone, but developed jaundice and gradually sank. One evening, ere his mother took him back to her village, a message was brought to us imploring my wife and me to wash our hands in the water our servant brought us; the same water was then to be given by the Yezidee mother to her dying boy that he might drink and live! "One longs to be able to tell them of Him who is the Water of Life: but they have a language of their own, and understand but little Arabic. "Will not my readers pray that the Mosul Mission may be strengthened and properly equipped; that the Gospel may be preached to these poor Yezidees, as well as to their Mohammedan neighbours; and that they may learn to love Him who alone has power to cast out devils?" CHAPTER XI TRAVELLING IN THE DESERT Monotony of desert travelling--A puppy and a kitten--Tragedy--Accident by the river Euphrates--Riots in Mosul--Robberies and murder excited by love of gold. "Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hairbreadth 'scapes.... The shot of accident, nor dart of chance Could neither graze nor pierce...." Shakespeare. Travelling in the desert is apt to become rather monotonous when each day goes by with nothing to mark it from the preceding one, so that when some event out of the common does take place it is quite exhilarating. For instance, once during our mid-day halt, which happened to be on the site of a newly-deserted Arab encampment, we heard a cry, and looking about found a wee puppy about two days old. This puppy afforded us amusement for at least two days, much to the amazement of our muleteers. We wrapped it in flannel, placed it in the sunshine to try and instil some warmth into its chilly body, and presently we had the satisfaction of hearing its wailing gradually cease as the sunshine penetrated the flannel. We managed to keep life in the poor little beast for two or three days, but, as milk is scarce in the desert, it was impossible to feed it properly. One evening we arrived at an Arab encampment, and thought it would be kinder to leave the poor puppy with one of the Arabs, who are supposed to be fond of dogs. So we persuaded our servant to take the puppy and deposit it in one of the tents. He did so very reluctantly, thinking he might be shot at for venturing near after dusk. However, he crept up quietly and placed the puppy just inside one of the tents. Immediately the owner demanded who was there, but Aboo (our servant) fled without waiting to answer. We heard the Arab using some strong language, and then, catching sight of the poor puppy, he took it up and threw it out into the desert. We could hear the little thing squealing and crying, so my husband went to rescue it once more from an untimely end. He found it on top of a rubbish heap, brought it back to our tent, and we tried again to warm and soothe it. The next day, however, the little spark of remaining life was quenched. So the short story of this little forsaken waif ended in a sad tragedy, and my husband undertook the dismal duty of committing its body to the deep waters of the river. Another day one of our escort galloped up with great excitement to show us a kitten he had just found in the desert--the poor little mite was so thankful to see a human being again, and had evidently been left behind in much the same manner as the puppy when the Arab tribe was migrating. These are small episodes of the desert which help to break the monotony. I may perhaps be allowed to misquote the well-known lines of S. Gregory:-- "A little thing is a little thing, But 'excitement' in little things Is a great thing"--in the desert. On one occasion we passed an Arab lying on his back and covered with his aba, the native cloak worn by all classes. We heard afterwards that it was a case of murder; that the man had been dead three days, and only then had been found by his sons, who were out searching for their father. Hastily covering him with one of their cloaks, they had rushed off to try and find the murderer and avenge their father's blood. We met them soon afterwards, and they told the whole story to our escort. In the preceding chapters we have seen how often the cry of "Wolf, wolf!" was raised when there was no wolf, till we began to think that the much-talked-of robbers of the desert did not exist at all, or, if they did exist, would not dare to touch a European caravan. However, we soon learnt to our cost that this was not the case. Two years ago we were travelling from Mosul to Aleppo, and had almost reached our destination when we met with the following adventure. Having reached the end of our stage one day, we had encamped within a stone's throw of the river Euphrates, just outside the town of Beridjik. Our tent was pitched beneath a lovely spreading tree, under which ran a sparkling stream on its way from the mountains to the river. We thought what an ideal camping-ground it made, and apparently the same thought entered the minds of some others, only from a different standpoint. All round us were signs of the industry of the villagers in the form of huge stacks of corn freshly reaped, now waiting for the threshing time to begin. Ere we retired for the night we were strolling by the stream and amongst the corn, where we noticed two men sitting in the field, who gave us the evening salutations as we passed by. We did not attribute any importance to this fact, as it is not unusual for the villagers to set watchmen to guard their corn during harvest time and afterwards, till the grain is safely housed. So, committing ourselves to the care of Him who never slumbers or sleeps, we retired to our tent, hoping for a good night's rest to prepare us for the journey of the morrow. Our "ideal camping-ground" I found to have at least one great disadvantage--a disadvantage common to all grounds which are used by flocks of goats and sheep for their resting-places. That night these "pilgrims of the desert" were particularly active, and gave me no peace or chance of sleep till the early hours of the morning; then at last, worn-out with the unequal warfare, I fell asleep. I could not have been sleeping long when I was awakened by a movement on the part of my camp bedstead. Sleepily I decided in my mind that our donkey had loosened his tether and was trying to pay us a friendly visit. Often in the night some animal would get loose, and rub himself against our tent ropes till he had succeeded in rooting up one peg, when he would go and practise on another. Thinking this was the case now I promptly fell asleep again, only to be reawakened in a short time by the same sensation. This time I was quite awake, and in an instant flashed my electric torch round the tent, just in time to see a man decamping by the door. I roused my husband (whose sleep is never disturbed by pilgrims of the night), and told him what had happened. He immediately rushed out and gave the alarm to the camp. Unfortunately it was a very dark night, and nothing could be seen a yard ahead, so the robbers had ample opportunity for beating a retreat. Our tent was some little way from the village, so my husband returned to the tent to put on some more garments before going to interview the head-man of the village, who is always supposed to be responsible for the safety of caravans. When he came to look for his clothes, the only article he could find was one shoe, the thieves having cleared the tent of everything available, even to our tooth-brushes! Not only did they clear off everything from the tent, but also emptied a large box which was standing outside the tent, and also took a large valise containing my husband's portmanteau and my "hold-all." Had they been content with these, we should never have known of their nocturnal visit till the morning; but in their desire to secure the small carpet which lay in the middle of the tent, they awoke me, hence the movement of my bed which twice disturbed my sleep. We felt there was nothing to be done till daybreak, so retired once more to rest. As soon as dawn appeared some of the caravan party rode off in different directions to see if they could find any trace of the thieves, but of course they had disappeared long ago under cover of the darkness. The search party, however, brought back a few garments picked up along the road, which the thieves had evidently dropped in their hurry when the alarm was given. Our escort, a soldier from Beridjik, was sent back to the town to notify the Government officials of the robbery. In a short time the governor of the place rode out with six or seven other officials, all evidently much disturbed in their minds lest they should get into disgrace for allowing any harm to come to a European caravan. The first thing the governor did was to send for the head-man of the village and have him bound and beaten. I was so sorry for the poor man, who had a flowing white beard. I could not bear to witness his beating, so retired to the tent, and tried to shut out the sound as well as the sight of the old man's sufferings. As a matter of fact I do not think the beating was a very severe one, but the victim made the most of it. This proving of no avail, they all set out for the neighbouring villages, and spent the whole of that day and the next scouring the country for the thieves, returning each day at sunset and renewing the search early next morning. My husband accompanied them the first day, and was very much amused by the behaviour of some of the villagers at sight of the officials. At some villages they would find nothing but women, the men all having fled at the news that soldiers were coming. They found plenty of other stolen goods buried in the ground of the huts, but none of our belongings. In one village a man confidentially whispered to one of the soldiers that he knew where the stolen goods were. On being told to lead the way to the place, he led them all to a large field in which were some hundred or more large corn-stacks, and said that the goods were in one of those. I expect he much enjoyed his little joke, for after turning over a dozen or so of these ricks under the scorching sun, the soldiers gave up the task as hopeless. All efforts proving unavailing, we had perforce to proceed on our journey, managing as best we could till we reached Aleppo, where we were able to replenish that which was most lacking in our wardrobe. The fame of our adventure preceded us to Jerusalem, where a month or two later we heard a most exaggerated account of our state when we entered Aleppo. My husband went at once to our consul on reaching Aleppo, laying before him the whole story. Fortunately for us, Mr. Longworth was a most energetic and painstaking man, having great influence with the Government officials. He asked us to write out an estimate of our losses, which he presented to the Vali, assuring us he would either make the Government pay full compensation or produce the lost goods. After six months of endless work and worry, Mr. Longworth sent my husband a telegram saying that compensation to the full amount had been given. We were very thankful to our consul for his unceasing energy in the matter, and sent him our very grateful thanks. Thus happily ended No. 1 of our chapter of accidents. When we think of what "might have been" that night with those wild men of the desert in our tent while we were sleeping, our hearts go up with great thankfulness to God, who ever watches over His children, and who can keep them as safely in the deserts of Mesopotamia as in the homeland. The two men we had noticed sitting amongst the corn had probably been hired for the purpose of robbing us, but the real culprit was suspected afterwards to have been one of the leading men of Beridjik--in fact we were told that he was a member of the "town council." Doubtless he wished to procure for himself and his hareem some European clothing, without the expense of buying it. Another peril from which in God's mercy we were delivered had its origin in Mosul. The Vali, in obedience to orders from Constantinople, endeavoured to register every woman in Mosul. To accomplish this it was necessary to find out the number and "write" a list of every woman in each house. Moslems and Christians alike rose in revolt at the idea of their women being "written," as it appeared to them contrary to all the laws of God and Mohammed that such a thing should be. The whole town was in an uproar, the shops were shut, no business was done in the sook (bazaar), and men congregated everywhere, talking angrily and making ugly threats. This went on for five days; such a thing had never been known before. Sometimes, in times of trouble, work has been suspended for three days, but no one could remember the sook being shut for such a length of time as five days. The Christians began to be very much alarmed for their safety, as it was rumoured that, unless the Vali gave way, at the expiration of the fifth day a general massacre of Christians would take place. The French convent was guarded by soldiers; our agent wired to the Consul-General at Baghdad for a like guard for the English, which happily, however, was not needed. When my husband was in the house I did not feel at all nervous, but if he was called out to see a patient after dark I certainly felt very anxious till he returned; for all around us was heard the continual firing of guns and pistols, and I pictured to myself the possibilities and probabilities of some of those stray bullets. "Alhamd'llillah!" nothing happened, and we realised again once more that the traveller's God is able to keep, as expressed in those incomparable words commonly known as the Traveller's Psalm. On the evening of the fifth day the governor recalled his order for the names of the women to be written, and all was quiet once more, at least outwardly. For some time, however, a feeling of unrest was abroad, several murders taking place that week, one of which still remains wrapt in mystery. A Moslem enticed a Jew into the country on the pretext of having some work for him to do; he then made the man dig a grave; after which he stabbed him, and threw the body into the grave made by the victim's own hands. The reason of the murder is unknown. One evening we were having dinner, when in rushed my husband's chief assistant, in a great state of excitement, to say that his brother had been stabbed in the sook, and they had brought him to our outer compound. My husband immediately went out and found the young man with a wound in his thigh. Had it been a little higher up the result would probably have been fatal, but happily it was a comparatively trivial wound, and a few stitches and a week's rest soon put him right again; but naturally Daoud (the name of the victim) was very much alarmed, and it was some time before he quite recovered his nerve and could walk through that sook again. It seemed such an absolutely meaningless assault, that we could only hope it was a case of mistaken identity. Daoud had been an assistant for over a year, and as far as he knew had not a single enemy in the town. Matters of private dispute and jealousy are often settled by means of the revolver. An Armenian doctor, a short time ago, was shot when riding home from visiting a case. He was passing under a dark archway, when suddenly he heard bullets whizzing and became aware that he was the target. His horse was so badly hit that he was afraid it could not recover, but fortunately he himself escaped with only a slight graze or two. He attributed the motive of this attack to private grudges borne against him by some of his professional brethren. There is in Mosul an Armenian woman, whose husband was a doctor who had been celebrated for one special kind of operation. On his death his widow thought she might as well continue her husband's practice, as she had often assisted him with the operations. Accordingly she set herself up amongst the many quack doctors of Mosul. Many of her operations were successful, while the results of a still greater number remain in obscurity. Her charges were tremendous; no matter how poor her patient, she would do nothing till a very large fee had been paid. In this way she made a rich harvest while no European doctor was in the city, but after our arrival I am afraid her income was considerably lessened. Upon our departure from Mosul I imagine she again started her lucrative profession of grinding money out of the poor, for we heard not long ago that she had been stabbed five times while walking in the streets one evening. Robberies are very common in Mosul. Almost every evening may be heard on all hands sounds of shooting, telling of houses being visited by robbers. Fortunately, so far, they have not favoured us with a visit, and I sincerely hope they never will. One evening we were sitting quietly in the verandah when a woman came rushing in from the women's hospital compound, saying that there were three men on the roof. We all rushed out, armed with anything we could lay hands on, and made a dash for the roof on which the men had been seen, but no sign of them could be found. One of our servants climbed on to the top of the wall connecting our house with our neighbour's, flashing his lantern all round in his endeavours to see any trace of the supposed thieves. Excited voices were at once heard asking "Who is there?" "Why do you throw a light here?" &c.; and the lantern-bearer found to his horror that he was illuminating with his lamp the whole of the hareem of our next-door neighbour, who were all sleeping on the roof, the time being summer. His descent was much quicker than his ascent, as he was in deadly fear of being shot by the irate owner of the hareem. As a rule thieves only think it worth while to go after gold. Silver is not accounted of any value in Mosul. The natives, especially perhaps the Christians and Jews, always have a great deal of gold in their houses, and in consequence live in terror of the robbers coming to relieve them of it. Shortly before we left I heard of a very sad case of robbery and murder. A young Christian girl, who had just been married, was awakened one night by a man roughly forcing the gold bracelets from her wrist, holding at the same time a revolver at her head, and telling her if she made a sound he would shoot her dead. For a time she suffered in silence, but an extra sharp wrench from the rough hands of her tormentor made her cry out in pain. Her cry roused her husband, and he immediately made a dash for the robber, who calmly turned the revolver at the man's head and shot him dead. Thus the bride of only a few days' duration was left a widow. Another day two women belonging to one of the leading Christian families were returning from an early service at their church, when they were attacked by a Moslem man, who tore the gold coins from their heads and necks. The terrified women could hardly reach their own homes, so stunned were they by the harsh treatment of the robbers. The strange sequel to this story is, that after a few days a parcel arrived at the house to which the women belonged, which on being opened was found to contain all the gold which had been wrested from them a few days before. Another lady in Mosul, also a Christian, was the proud possessor of a most valuable set of jewels. One day everything disappeared. She neither saw nor heard a robber, but evidently one must have gained admission to the house, for all her jewels were taken; and to this day she has never had a clue as to their fate. I often say to the women in Mosul who sometimes commiserate me on having no gold: "Which is better--to have gold for the robbers to get, or to have none and be able to go to rest with a quiet mind?" I think most of them would prefer to have the gold and risk the rest, so devoted are they to it and all jewellery. Every woman, except the very poor, has on her marriage, gold coins for her head, gold chains for her neck, a golden band for her waist, gold bracelets for the arms, and the same for her ankles. Is it any wonder that these form attractions which prove too strong for the average robber to resist? I was once visiting at the house of a poor Jewess. She was telling me how poor she was, as her "man" was ill and could not work; but I said, "I expect you have gold?" "Oh yes, of course," was the answer; and going to a cupboard she pulled out a secret drawer and showed me her store of gold coins and bangles, valued at about £200. Before putting away her "gods," she asked me if I thought her hiding-place was secure enough against the invasion of robbers. These people certainly lay up for themselves treasures where thieves break through and steal, the result being that when their "treasures" are taken they are left disconsolate. Having nothing better to live for, are they not worthy of our love and pity? CHAPTER XII THE PLEASURES OF DESERT TRAVELLING Desert blossoms as a rose--Flowers of the desert--Arabs, their occupation and women--Arab dancing--Robbers of the desert--An army of ten thousand--Five hundred armed men--False alarms--Lost in the desert--Delights and disturbances of travelling. "Truth is truth: too true it was, Gold! She hoarded and hugged it first, Longed for it, leaned o'er it, loved it-- Alas! Till the humour grew to a head and burst, And she cried at the final pass. Talk not of God, my heart is stone! Nor lover nor friend--be gold for both! Gold I lack, and, my all, my own...." R. Browning. "O that the desert were my dwelling-place." Byron. It can with all truth be said that in springtime the Desert of Mesopotamia blossoms as a rose. Two years ago we travelled from Mosul to Aleppo by the northern route viâ Mardin, Diabekir, and Orfa. We left Mosul about the 20th June, just as the harvest had all been gathered in and the earth had once more resumed its parched-up appearance for another summer. No sooner had we left the neighbourhood of Mosul behind us than we were surrounded again on all sides by fields of waving corn, in many instances still green, and this continued the whole way to Aleppo; the harvest becoming later as we travelled north. Where the land was not cultivated the wild flowers were a perfect delight, and the desert air was filled with their sweetness. In one place the effect of these flowers was peculiarly enchanting. As far as the eye could see, the fields were covered with hollyhocks of all hues, the different shades being grouped together; thus a vast expanse of red hollyhocks would be succeeded by a field of white ones, these again changing to a delightful mauve. I have never anywhere seen such a wealth of wild flowers as we saw in that so-called desert journey from Mosul to Mardin. To try to enumerate the countless tiny flowers of the desert would be futile; they go very near to rival in number and beauty the wild flowers of Palestine. Once we were sitting in a field waiting for our caravan, and my husband said he would see how many different kinds of flowers he could pick without moving. In a minute or two he had gathered over a dozen, all within arm's reach. In that field alone there must have been at least a hundred varieties of flowers. As we approached Aleppo the flowers became scarcer, and fruit-trees took their place. One day I was riding on the top of the pack mule, when suddenly the animal (who had only one eye) stumbled, and I was deposited on the ground before I realised what had happened. Feeling rather hot and bruised, I looked about for a place to rest in. Fortunately we were near an orchard, so finding a delightfully shady tree, we decided to make this our lunching-ground. As we sat and rested ripe apricots fell from the tree into our laps. The owner of the orchard informed us we could eat as many as we liked--for a consideration! But desert travelling is not all as pleasant as this. Were we to retrace our steps a month or two later we should see no beautiful flowers or waving corn-fields, nothing but burnt-up desert land. The direct route from Mosul to Aleppo lies through land almost entirely desert. For two whole days nothing is to be seen save an occasional Arab encampment, and sometimes not even that. The Arabs of Mesopotamia belong as a rule to the great Shammar tribe. They wander up and down the country living in black tents made from camel or goats' hair. When wishing to seek pastures new they migrate from one place to another with all their flocks and herds, the tending of which forms one of their chief occupations. The Arab women are most industrious: in addition to the ordinary cares of the family, they fetch the water, carrying it home from the well or river in large jars balanced on their heads; they drive the flocks to pasture, milking them night and morning; they spin the wool of the sheep and goat, and weave it into cloth for the men's garments or for the tent canvas. In fact, there is hardly anything the Arab woman does not do, while her lord and master passes the time in scouring the country on horseback, or settling quarrels with his neighbours. Arabs of different tribes are very quick to go to war against each other, and will fight for the merest trifle, though blood is rarely shed, the consequences of a blood feud being so dreaded. With the Arab it must be blood for blood, and once blood has been shed, there can be no rest till vengeance has been satisfied. The Arabs are very proud of their horses, as they have every reason to be, a true Arab horse being a lovely creature. As a rule they do not shoe their horses at all. One day two men from an encampment near Mosul were walking along when they saw something on the road which attracted their attention. Picking it up, they examined it very carefully, turned it over and over, but could not come to any satisfactory conclusion regarding it. The object under discussion was a horseshoe, but as neither of them had ever seen such a thing before they could not guess its use. After discussing it gravely for some time one Arab said to the other, "Of course I know what it is. This is an old moon which has fallen down from heaven!" The Arabs are very hospitable people, and were often profuse in their invitations for us to eat with them. I have once or twice joined the women in sitting round a big cauldron full of "borghol" (crushed corn boiled with plenty of fat) and dipping with them into the one dish, and thoroughly enjoyed it. When you have a desert appetite it is possible to enjoy anything. Once my husband and I accepted an invitation to a meal with an Arab, and were regaled with chicken boiled with a green vegetable called "barmiya," and pillau. Our host would not eat with us, but employed himself brushing the flies away from the food as we ate. The Arab dance is a very weird performance to watch. The men and women all join hands, and shuffle with their feet, at the same time working every muscle of the body in a most grotesque fashion. As they warm to the dance they get very much excited, yelling and shouting in a frantic manner. These Arabs are the dreaded robbers of the desert, and our guard always impressed upon us, when travelling, what a dangerous set of people they were. Every speck on the horizon is magnified into a probable Arab; and if by chance one is met in the desert, the excitement is great. On one occasion we were riding in a very lonely spot when suddenly an Arab horseman rode into view. Immediately our gallant guard swooped down upon the unfortunate man, asking him what he meant by spying upon our movements, for they did not think it possible that he would be there alone if it were not for that object. The Arab assured us he had no such intentions, but had only come to meet a friend whom he believed to be in our caravan. However, our escort would not credit his story, so took him prisoner till we had safely passed the dangerous part, and then allowed him to return. We could not help wondering whether, if there had been twenty Arabs instead of one, our guard would have been so brave. Another time we were crossing a huge track of waterless desert, said to be infested with marauding Arab tribes, when suddenly we saw the escort becoming highly excited, waving their guns about, preparatory to galloping off. Before we had time to ask what it was all about they were off. We were then driving in a carriage, so making inquiries from our driver were assured it was nothing, only he pointed ominously to a long black line seen far away in the distance. Our servant assured us this was the shadow of the mountain, but this was only said to reassure us in case we felt alarmed. The "black line" appeared to be steadily advancing, every moment becoming more and more like a huge army of mounted men marching straight for us. Our driver, thinking, no doubt, of the probable capture of his horses by the robbers, lashed up the poor beasts into a gallop, urging them on ever faster and faster till they could go no quicker. Our servant, who was sitting on the box-seat, made valiant attempts to draw off our thoughts from the impending danger, as he thought the "khatoun" would be much frightened. But the "khatoun" was not to be blindfolded, and much preferred to see and know what was going on. By this time the "army" had assumed enormous proportions, for as each section appeared in sight, another one loomed behind, away in the distance. Already in my mind I resignedly (?) bade farewell to all the contents of our boxes, as I pictured the Arabs ruthlessly breaking them open and spreading the contents on the ground for inspection and division. We soon saw that we must give up the race, for every moment brought us nearer our dreaded enemies; till just as we reached the top of a small rise in the ground we came face to face with our "army of soldiers." "Alhamd'llillah!" they were nothing more alarming than a huge cavalcade of about 10,000 camels being taken to water in companies of 500, each company being in charge of a drover, the order and regularity with which they walked giving the impression that they were regiments of mounted soldiers. I fancy the alarm of the guards and driver was only assumed for our benefit, for on our return journey they began the same story at the identical spot, and there again, sure enough, was the steady advancing line; but this time we were wiser, and could laugh at our would-be alarmists. Another time we had just crossed a river at the end of a long day's march, and were enjoying a well-earned rest and cup of tea, when our escort came up in great distress of mind to say that he had just heard that a band of 500 armed men had that morning crossed the river with the avowed intention of lying in wait for the Feringhi caravan and attacking it. We were getting used to alarms of this kind, and at first only laughed at their anxious faces; but they were so persistent in their entreaties that we should not remain on that side of the river, that we began to think that perhaps, after all, this time they might have foundation for their fears. So we made a compromise to the effect that, if they wished, we would pack up and move on to some village, although we were very tired. So with this they had to be content, and it was arranged that at midnight we were to start. However, just before turning in for a short rest, the guard again made their appearance, this time to say they had considered that it would not be at all safe to travel by night, and that we had better wait till daylight, adding in the usual way: "But do not be afraid; we will watch all night long." So we all retired very thankfully to rest. It was a very hot night, and being unable to sleep I went outside the tent door for a little air, and found our gallant guard all fast asleep and snoring. In the morning they assured us that they had never closed their eyes all night, but had sat up watching for robbers!! We had experienced once in Persia the pleasant sensation of being lost when alone in the desert. In the Turkish-Arabian desert we, in company with the whole caravan, were once lost, and spent many weary hours wandering about seeking for our right road in vain. It was a day or two after leaving Diabekir; our escort, reduced to one soldier as the road was considered fairly safe, was quite sure he knew the way. Our muleteer and servants had never travelled that road before, so we were completely in the hands of one man; but as he seemed quite sure, we did not trouble about it, knowing that these men are always on the road acting as escort. But we soon found that we were trusting to a broken reed, so far as his knowledge as a guide was concerned. We started one day on what we supposed to be a short stage, but to our surprise it seemed to lengthen out into a longer one than usual, till we began to despair of ever reaching the end. At last, when sunset was a thing of the past, we began to suspect that our guide was not too sure of his where-abouts; and this suspicion soon changed to certainty when we suddenly found ourselves on the top of a steep bank, down which it was impossible for the animals to climb. Our clever guide then confessed that he did not know where we were. It was now quite dark, and we had been riding since early morning, so felt pretty tired; but our muleteer said it was quite out of the question to stay where we were, as there was no water for the animals, and the hills with which we were surrounded were known to be full of robbers. So we wandered on and on and on, listening in vain for some sound of habitation and hearing none, longing even to hear the joyful sound of the barking of dogs or croaking of frogs, telling of life and water; but our longings were not to be realised that night. At last, about ten o'clock, we said we could not possibly go any further; so, amidst much discontent and fear on the part of the men, we dismounted and declared our intention of staying where we were till dawn. The animals were all tethered, and we all sat round in a circle, so that if the robbers came we should be able to show a good front. The men appeared to be quite frightened, and declared they would not sleep, but each would take his turn at watching. We were too sleepy to care much whether the robbers came or not, so wrapping ourselves in blankets we were soon fast asleep. Awaking about half-an-hour later, I looked out to see how the "watchers" were getting on, and saw that they were all fast asleep, covered up in their abas or long cloaks. I soon followed their example and slept till morning, no robbers having come in the night to disturb our slumbers. We discovered that we had wandered a good distance out of our way, but found the right path soon after nine o'clock, and very thankful we all were to obtain water to drink--the animals more so than any of us, perhaps. Travelling in the desert is very pleasant if the stage is not a very long one. To start about sunrise or a little after, ride three or four hours, then have a lunch of bread and melons, and finish up with another three hours' ride, makes a very pleasant picnic; but when the stage takes twelve or thirteen hours to do, the pleasure becomes a burden. At the end of a short stage it is delightful to sit outside our tent and enjoy the cool breeze of the desert, and watch the stars peeping out one after the other. Sometimes, however, the weather is not such as to allow of this form of enjoyment. When we were coming home in 1907, in crossing the desert we came in for some tremendously heavy thunderstorms. One night we were simultaneously awakened by a tremendous gust of wind which threatened to bring down the tent. We sprang up and clung to the poles; but thinking the whole structure was bound to fall, and preferring to be outside, I forsook my pole to which I had been clinging, and rushed out into the pouring rain. My husband went to call some of the men, and found them all happily asleep in the carriage: with great difficulty he awoke them, and together they made secure all the tent-pegs. By this time the great fury of the storm was over, and we crept inside the tent, wet, cold, and miserable. Wonderful to say, neither of us caught cold after our adventure. The next morning we spread all our wet bedding, &c., in the sun to dry; and just as it was nearly ready, down came another storm and soaked everything again. Such are some of the joys of travelling in the desert. CHAPTER XIII PIONEER MEDICAL MISSION WORK IN MOSUL (NINEVEH) [6] Winning the confidence of the people--Native surgery--Difficulties to be overcome--Backward patients--Encouraging work--Prevalent diseases--Lunatics--Possible future of Mesopotamia. "... My soul is full Of pity for the sickness of this world; Which I will heal, if healing may be found!" Sir E. Arnold. It is often thought that in the East, whenever an English doctor arrives at a city, patients throng to him from all quarters. This is only partially true, at least in the near East. If medicine and attendance are granted free indiscriminately, doubtless at first crowds will attend the out-patient department, many coming merely out of curiosity. If good work is to be done, it is better to make some charge, however small, exempting only the very poor. This principle has, I believe, been adopted by all our medical missionaries, and fees thus earned go to help in making the work self-supporting. The European doctor in Persia or Turkey has first to win the confidence of the people, and this is sometimes no easy matter. On our arrival in Mosul we rented a house in the centre of the city, which had two compounds. We lived in the inner compound, and made the outer into a dispensary and small hospital. At first everything looked rather hopeless, the house being an old one and nearly in ruins. However, we made a big stable into a waiting-room for the patients; other rooms were patched up and transformed into consulting-room, dispensary, operating theatre, and wards, all of a most primitive kind. In this great city of 60,000 to 80,000 people our staff consisted of my wife and me and two native assistants, who had been trained in our Baghdad Medical Mission. There was no lack of physicians in the city, but excluding two or three Turkish army doctors, and one or two others with Constantinople diplomas, the rest were quacks of the most pronounced type. Nearly every old lady in the city thinks herself competent to treat diseases of the eye, the barbers are the surgeons, bone-setters abound, hereditary physicians are by no means scarce. These latter inherit "herbal prescriptions" from their forefathers, and though now forbidden to practise by the Turkish Government, yet contrive to visit many houses as a "friend" after dark, and earn enough for a livelihood. The Dominicans (who have a large Mission in Mosul) also give away many medicines, and have now a qualified native doctor. But though there is much "physicking" in Mosul, but little surgery is done, and that gives the opportunity for the European doctor to step in. Arab surgery is of the crudest description. Let one sample suffice. A poor Arab woman was brought to the dispensary, soon after we started work, by her father. She complained of not being able to breathe through her nose. On examining her throat I found that the upper air passage had become shut off from the back of the throat as a result of old inflammation. Upon further inquiry I elicited the following history. Two years before, the patient had developed a bad sore throat. Her father took her to the native surgeon, who had the poor woman's mouth held forcibly open, while he proceeded to cure the sore throat by rubbing it with a red-hot flattened piece of iron! Gradually we commenced to win the confidence of the people: they came in ever-increasing numbers to the dispensary. Gathered together in the waiting-room would be a crowd composed of many different nationalities--Christians, Moslems, Jews, Kurds from the mountains, Bedouins from the desert, Yezidees (the so-called devil-worshippers), a motley throng, listening quietly and without interruption to the reading and exposition of the Gospel, ere passing one by one through the doctor's consulting-room, for the treatment of their multitudinous diseases. The medical missionary is called upon to do his best to cure every ailment; he must be ready to accept heavy responsibilities, there are no "specialists" to consult, often he is without the help of any trained nurse, and in pioneer work, at least, he has no properly equipped hospital, and must perforce perform most serious operations under the worst possible conditions. In addition to all this, in lands under Mohammedan rule there is always the risk of a riot if a patient should die in a Christian hospital, especially on the operating table. Yet despite all these drawbacks, it is a grand life, revealing to a man his own utter weakness, and making him rely more and more upon his God. Soon we were able to commence admitting in-patients, being forced to limit admission to surgical cases. At first there was considerable difficulty in getting the patients to come on the actual day fixed for the operation; each one was anxious for his neighbour to be the first. Finally I was compelled to threaten to put a black mark against the name of any patient who had agreed to come in for operation and then failed to put in an appearance, adding that that patient would have to wait a long time before having a chance offered a second time. This had the desired effect, a woman needing a small eyelid operation being the first to brave the terrors of the Feringhi hospital. In due course, instruments and dressings all having been prepared, the patient, in a condition of mortal terror, was led into the operating room, and induced to lie on the table. But alas, her fears gained the mastery, and she instantly jumped up, ran out of the room, and disappeared from the dispensary. This was not encouraging, but a few days later a little Jew boy suffering from vesical stone (a very common disease in Mosul, especially amongst children) was brought to the hospital by his father. We persuaded him to enter the hospital with his boy, and thus finally gained our first in-patient. The stone having been removed, and the boy making a good recovery, we had no further difficulty in getting in-patients. Our six wooden beds soon all had occupants, then we added six more beds; finally, obtaining a neighbouring house for our own residence, we made our old house (the inner compound) into a small hospital for women and children. Thus we were able to accommodate twenty-four patients, and as each had at least one friend, we often had over fifty people resident on the premises. It is this in-patient work that gives the most encouraging opportunities to the medical missionary. There in his little hospital he has patients of all creeds, lying side by side; many have been relieved or cured by operation, and will listen gratefully to all the teaching they can get. Each patient before the operation hears the doctor pray a short prayer, asking God to bless the operation and cause it to be successful. Day after day, week after week, he receives instruction, and gains an entirely new idea of what Christianity really is, and when he leaves the mission hospital and returns to his home, whether in the city or in a distant mountain village, all his old bitter opposition to Christianity has disappeared, and often he will send other patients for treatment to the English mission. The following statistics, for two years only, may prove interesting, as showing the far-reaching influence of even a badly equipped, undermanned medical mission:-- Total attendance of out-patients 24,519 Operations performed {197 Major} 569 {372 Minor} Total number of in-patients 288 Number of villages and towns, excluding Mosul, from which patients have come to the dispensary 348 This last item is especially interesting; excluding Mosul (from which naturally most of our patients are drawn), 348 different towns and villages (some as many as ten days' journey) have sent us patients, and yet the work is barely started! To illustrate the effect of a medical mission in disarming opposition, I may add that, in 1907, when it was feared that, owing to the need for retrenchment, the Society would have to close the work in Mosul, a petition, signed by most of the prominent Mohammedan residents, including the chief mullahs, was brought to me, asking that I would remit it at once to the Society. It was a request that the Medical Mission should not be withdrawn, as it had been such a boon to the inhabitants of the city. In a very wonderful manner God heard and answered our prayers, and the Mission is not to be closed, but rather it is hoped to equip it more thoroughly. The operations most frequently called for in Mosul are those for "cataract" and vesical stone, but patients come with many other diseases, both surgical and medical. The city is full of phthisis; the insanitary conditions under which the vast majority of the inhabitants live favour its rapid dissemination. Smallpox and typhoid fever are very common, and once these diseases have been definitely diagnosed, neither the patient nor his friends will permit any further medical treatment. For the latter disease the patient is kept on fairly strict diet until he "perspires." This to the native mind denotes the end of all possible danger, so he is then pressed to eat anything and everything, with disastrous results. Malaria, dysentery, hepatic abscesses are also rife; there have also been epidemics of cholera and plague, but not of late years. Once the projected Baghdad Railway (which will pass through Mosul) is an accomplished fact, we may expect the importation of plague from the south, unless the most stringent precautions are taken. The Bedouin Arab can rarely be persuaded to stop in the city; after the freedom of life in the desert, he feels stifled within the four walls of a house. Ere leaving Mosul I had a curious demonstration of this fact. An old blind Arab was brought to me by his son, suffering from double cataract. I told him that by means of a simple operation he might once again be able to see, but that he would have to stay in the hospital for a few days. He indignantly refused, saying he would rather remain blind the rest of his life than sleep beneath a roof. In vain did his son plead with him, and finding that I would not operate at once and allow him to be treated as an out-patient, the old man went sorrowfully away. Every in-patient admitted had to bring a friend to help to nurse him, as we had no proper hospital equipment and no trained nurse. Only twice in the three years did I break this rule, both times with disastrous results. The first was a poor old man from a village some days' journey from Mosul. He was poor and friendless, also blind with "cataract"; reluctantly I allowed myself to be influenced by his pathetic pleadings, and admitted him without any one to look after him. Prior to his admission he had been bitten on the calf of one leg by a dog, and complaining of pain from this wound, we dressed it with a simple boracic fomentation. Unfortunately this dressing was forgotten and left on the leg. The eye was in due course operated upon successfully, and the patient received the usual strict injunction to lie still for twenty-four hours. At the first dressing everything seemed all right; two days later I found to my sorrow that the eye had suppurated, and that there was no hope of saving the vision. The strictest inquiry was at once instituted, but for some time we could discover no clue as to how the eye had become infected; then the truth came out. It appeared that the second night after the operation the old man commenced to feel a slight pricking pain in the eye that had been operated upon (not an uncommon symptom after "cataract" extraction, with no bad significance as a rule). The pain seemed similar to that which he had felt in his leg, which had been relieved by the application of the boracic fomentation. The patient reasoned thus with himself: "It is night time, I had better not call for the doctor; but the medicine on my eye is evidently doing no good, while that put on my leg cured a similar pain to this at once, so I had better take off this bandage from my eye and replace it with the one on my leg"! This he had proceeded to do, and consequently lost his newly acquired sight. The other case was somewhat similar, but the patient was a fanatical Moslem priest, whom I afterwards found out was a well-known "majnoon" (madman). He also had been admitted alone, and we had but little trouble with him until after the operation (also for "cataract") had been performed. A few hours later my assistant came running to me, and said: "Doctor, that old cataract patient declares that he must and he will say his prayers. We have done our best to prevent him, but in vain." Now a Mohammedan, before he prays, performs certain ablutions, which include washing his hands and face; so I at once ran up to the ward, but, alas! we arrived too late. The old priest had taken off his bandage, washed his face and hands, said his prayers, and was quite unable to understand why the Hakim Sahib should be angry! We gave the poor old man some lotion and a shade for his eye, and sent him back to his home (as he lived in Mosul), refusing to accept any further responsibility. Some weeks later my assistant met the old priest in the bazaar, quite pleased with himself, for he had actually obtained sufficient sight to find his way about alone. Fortunately the majority of the patients are more reasonable, and quickly learn to submit more or less to "hospital regulations." Children sometimes proved troublesome, especially boys, when accompanied by a crowd of relations. I remember one morning, when making my daily round, coming across a group of people surrounding a little boy six years of age. He had been ordered a dose of castor oil, and had made up his obstinate little mind that he would not take the nasty stuff. Being a boy, and only son and heir, he had been spoilt most royally. Father, mother, aunt, grandmother, and friends each in turn tried persuasion, varied by gentle threats, all in vain. He beat and (I am sorry to say) cursed the women, his mother included, and sullenly refused to accept the medicine from his father, despite sundry promises of sweets, money, &c. After watching the scene with some amusement I stepped forward, took the cup containing the obnoxious castor oil, and forcibly administered the dose without regarding the boy's shrieks and tears. Then I read the parents a little lecture upon the evil result of spoiling their children, which I fear had but scant result. Often do I feel ashamed as I note how patiently pain and diseases are borne by these poor people. It is always "the will of God," and therefore there is no use complaining, and little use rebelling. Time after time have I had to gently break the news to some poor patient, who may have come long distances to see the English doctor, that his blindness could not be cured by operation, being caused by what is popularly known as black cataract (glaucoma). A few (usually women) would go away weeping, but the vast majority both of men and women would quietly respond, "Alhamd'llillah" (Praise be to God), with but little sign of emotion. So far as I know there is but one asylum for cases of mental diseases in the whole of the Turkish Empire, and that one is at Asfariyeh, near Beyrout, and belongs to an English society. The usual method of dealing with lunatics in Mosul is, if they are apparently harmless, that they are allowed to wander about freely and treated kindly; but once they develop symptoms of mania they are treated as wild beasts, put into a dark room, and chained to a wall. But we possess a specialist in "mental diseases" in Mosul, belonging to an old Mohammedan family, who has a great reputation for the treatment of "lunatics." In the courtyard of his house he has had dug several deep wells, and beside each well is placed a large tub, having a hole in the bottom which communicates with the well. The poor madman is made to work from sunrise to sunset, drawing water from the well and pouring it into the perforated tub, being told that he may leave off when he has filled the tub. If he refuses to work, he is unmercifully beaten. Several cures are said to have resulted from this treatment. There is nothing so potent as the in-patient work of a hospital in overcoming opposition. Amongst our numerous "cataract" patients was an Arab from Singar (a mountainous district near Mosul). He came armed with a perfectly unnecessary introduction, in the shape of a letter from one of the chief Mohammedans in the city. After he had regained his sight and had left the hospital, ere returning to his mountain home he went to this "big" Moslem to thank him. He found himself the centre of a large and curious throng, who questioned him severely upon his experiences in the "Christian" hospital. Some of the more fanatical (it was in the early days of the Mission) did not scruple to speak against the hospital and the English hakim; but, like the man in St. John's Gospel, this Arab was not afraid to testify of what had been done for him, "for," said he, "you can say what you like--one thing I know, before I was blind, now I can see." But enough--I fear to tire my readers; but ere closing I would like just to refer to the possible future of Mesopotamia. One thing is certain, a few years more will exhibit great changes. I have already referred to the Baghdad Railway. As I write it is rumoured that the German Government have at last obtained a further concession from the Sultan of Turkey, which will allow them to continue the line another five hundred miles, piercing Mount Taurus and reaching near to the city of Mardin (some ten days' journey north of Mosul). When this is accomplished the rest of the work is quite simple. The line from Mardin to Baghdad (passing through Mosul) should present no difficulties, and Mosul (with the ruins of Nineveh) will become easy of access from Europe. In the next place there is the question of the navigation of the Tigris. Ere long there is no doubt that boats will be allowed to come up the river from Baghdad to Mosul, and possibly on up to Diabekir (300-400 miles north of Mosul). This will mean an enormous increase in trade, both in imports and exports. Finally, there is that fascinating problem of the irrigation of the Mesopotamian desert. The remains of old canals are still visible, and it needs nothing but an energetic government willing to spend a comparatively small sum, plus the services of a capable engineer, to transform the whole of that desert between the two great rivers Euphrates and Tigris into a veritable Garden of Eden, even as it must have been in the days of old, when huge armies were able to find sufficient provender for man and beast throughout the whole of that vast region. The "finale" of that great province, containing the ruins of so many ancient cities, has not yet been written; and there are many signs which tend to suggest to the thoughtful observer that, ere another century has passed, Mesopotamia may once again take its place, and that no mean position, amongst the kingdoms of the earth! NOTES [1] "A Year amongst the Persians." [2] By Dr. A. Hume-Griffith. [3] By Dr. A. Hume-Griffith. [4] By Dr. A. Hume-Griffith. [5] Extract from "The Literary History of the Arabs," by R. A. Nicholson, M.A. [6] By Dr. A. Hume-Griffith. 
21569	----	SOUTHERN ARABIA [Illustration: Lafayette, photo. Walker & Boutall ph. sc. [Signature: Theodore Bent] London. Published by Smith, Elder & Co. 15, Waterloo Place.] SOUTHERN ARABIA BY THEODORE BENT, F.R.G.S., F.S.A. AUTHOR OF 'THE RUINED CITIES OF MASHONALAND' 'THE SACRED CITY OF THE ETHIOPIANS' 'THE CYCLADES, OR LIFE AMONG THE INSULAR GREEKS' ETC. AND MRS THEODORE BENT _WITH A PORTRAIT, MAPS, AND ILLUSTRATION_ LONDON SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 1900 [All rights reserved] PREFACE If my fellow-traveller had lived, he intended to have put together in book form such information as we had gathered about Southern Arabia. Now, as he died four days after our return from our last journey there, I have had to undertake the task myself. It has been very sad to me, but I have been helped by knowing that, however imperfect this book may be, what is written here will surely be a help to those who, by following in our footsteps, will be able to get beyond them, and to whom I so heartily wish success and a Happy Home-coming, the best wish a traveller may have. It is for their information that I have included so many things about the price of camels, the payment of soldiers and so forth, and yet even casual readers may care to know these details of explorers' daily lives. Much that is set down here has been published before, but a good deal is new. My husband had written several articles in the _Nineteenth Century_, and by the kindness of the editor I have been able to make use of these; also I have incorporated the lectures he had given before the Royal Geographical Society and the British Association. The rest is from his note-books and from the 'Chronicles' that I always wrote during our journeys. I thought at first of trying to keep our several writings apart; but, to avoid confusion of inverted commas, I decided, acting on advice, just to put the whole thing into as consecutive a form as possible, only saying that the least part of the writing is mine. The bibliography is far from complete, as I can name only a few of the many books that my husband consulted on all the districts round those which we were going to penetrate. As to the spelling of the Arabic, it must be remembered that it is a very widely spread language, and there are naturally many different forms of the same word--_e.g. ibn_, _ben_, _bin_--and such very various ways of pronouncing the name of the Moslem prophet, that I have heard it pronounced Memet, Mamad and Mad. I must give hearty thanks in both our names to all who helped us on in these journeys, and especially to Mr. Headlam, who has given me much assistance by going through the proofs of this book. Mr. W. C. Irvine has kindly provided the column of literary Arabic for the vocabulary. MABEL VIRGINIA ANNA BENT. 13 Great Cumberland Place, W: _October 13, 1899_. CONTENTS PAGE Bibliography ix SOUTHERN ARABIA chapter I. Manamah and Moharek 1 II. The Mounds of Ali 16 III. Our Visit to Rufa'a 30 MASKAT IV. Some Historical Facts about Oman 45 V. Maskat and the Outskirts 63 THE HADHRAMOUT VI. Makalla 71 VII. Our Departure into the Interior 81 VIII. The Akaba 88 IX. Through Wadi Kasr 98 X. Our Sojourn at Koton 111 XI. The Wadi Ser and Kabr Saleh 126 XII. The City of Shibahm 142 XIII. Farewell to the Sultan of Shibahm 162 XIV. Harassed by our Guides 177 XV. Retribution for our Foes 199 XVI. Coasting Eastward by Land 210 XVII. Coasting Westward by Sea 220 DHOFAR AND THE GARA MOUNTAINS XVIII. Merbat and Al Hafa 227 XIX. The Gara Tribe 244 XX. The Gara Mountains 256 XXI. The Identification of Abyssapolis 268 XXII. Sailing from Kosseir to Aden 277 AN AFRICAN INTERLUDE: THE EASTERN SOUDAN XXIII. Coasting along the Red Sea 287 XXIV. Halaib and Sawakin Kadim 298 XXV. Inland from Mersa Halaib 303 XXVI. Mohammed Gol 309 XXVII. 'Dancing on Tom Tiddler's Ground, Picking up Gold' 313 XXVIII. Behind the Jebel Erba 327 THE MAHRI ISLAND OF SOKOTRA XXIX. Kalenzia 343 XXX. Eriosh and Kadhoup 353 XXXI. Tamarida or Hadibo 361 XXXII. We Depart for the Land's End, _i.e._ Ras Momi 371 XXXIII. Mount Haghier and Fereghet 378 XXXIV. Back to the Ocean 390 BELED FADHLI AND BELED YAFEI XXXV. Experiences with the Yafei Sultan 399 XXXVI. Among the Fadhli 412 XXXVII. From the Plain of Mis'hal to the Sea 421 Appendices 431 Index 451 BIBLIOGRAPHY Abu'lfida Ismael ibn Ali Imad ed din, Prince or King of Hamar.--_Géographie d'Aboulfida_, traduite de l'Arabe et accompagnée de notes et d'éclaircissements par M. Reinaud, par M. S. Guyard. Paris, 1848-83. Baros, João de.--_Dos feitos que os Portugueses fizeram_. 1778-80. Binning, Robert.--_A Journal of Two Years' Travel in Persia, Ceylon, &c._ 1857. Bunbury, Sir E. H.--_Ancient Geography among the Greeks and Romans_. 1879. Cartas de Alfonzo de Albuquerque.--_Commentaries of Albuquerque_, Hakluyt Society, translated by W. de G. Birch. 1875. Carter, Dr.--_Paper in the Journal of the Asiatic Society_. Bombay branch. Chabas, Joseph.--_Les Inscriptions des Mines d'or_. 1862. Correa, Gaspar.--_Three Voyages of Vasco da Gama_. Hakluyt Society, 1869. Fernan Lopes de la Castanbeda.--_Historia do descubrimento e conquista da India pe los Portugueses_. Lisbon, 1833. Glaser, Eduard.--_Skizze der Geschichte der Geographie Süd-Arabiens_. Berlin, 1890. Goeje, J. de.--_Bibliotheca geographicorum Arabicorum_. 1870-85. _Mémoires d'histoire et de géographie orientales_. 2nd edition, 1886. _Helps to the Study of the Bible_. Hommel, Fritz--_Süd-Arabische Chrestomathie und Minæo-Sabäischen Grammatik_. München, 1893. _India Directory_, Part I. 1874. Miles, Colonel.--_Report of the Administration of the Persian Gulf Residency_, 1884-88. _Journey through Oman and Dhakrireh_. Blue Book, ccxx. Muhamad ibn Muhamad, _Geographie d'Edrisi_.--Traduite de l'Arabe. Paris, 1836-40. Muhammad ibn Abdallah, called Ibn Batuta. Muhammad ibn Muhammad.--_Geographia Nubiensis_, 1619, 4º. Müller, D. H.--_Epigraphische Denkmäler aus Arabien_ (Denkschriften der K.K. Ak. der Wissenschaften Wien). _Phil. Hist._ Cl. 37, 1894. _Himyarische Studien_ (Z. D. M., § 30). 1870. Palgrave, W. G.--_Narrative of a Year's Journey through Central Eastern Arabia_. 1865. Pollak, Dr. J. E.--_Das Land und seine Bewohner_. 1865. Sprenger Aloys.--_Bürger und Schlösser Süd-Arabiens. Die Alte Geographie Arabiens_. Vincent, W.--_The Commerce and Navigation of the Ancients in the Indian Ocean_. 1886. Wellsted, Lieut.--_Visit to Dhofar in the 'Philomel.'_ 1883. _Rough notes of a visit to Nakhl and Jebel Akhdar_. Ali Ibn al Husain, El Masudi, Abu al Hasan, Diodoros, Marco Polo, Sir John Maundeville, Pliny, the _Periplus_, Strabo, Ebn Said, Ptolemy, and others; but, as many of these names have been copied by me from rough notes of my husband's, I cannot be certain about the editions. I hope the imperfections of this bibliography will be excused. ILLUSTRATIONS A Mosque at Manamah, Bahrein _to face p._ 3 Theodore Bent Receiving Visitors at the Mounds, Bahrein 24 The Interior of Sheikh Saba's House at Rufa'a, Bahrein 34 The Castle of the Sultan of Shibahm at Al Koton 110 The Castle of the Sultan of Makalla at Shibahm 125 A Sabæan Altar 145 A Gara Forge 247 The Abyss of Abyssapolis, Dhofar 271 Elba Mountains From Shellal 304 Flute-Players in the Wadi Koukout, Soudan 337 The Plain of Eriosh, Sokotra 354 Theodore Bent making the Vocabulary at Fereghet 365 Vegetation in Sokotra 379 The Breakwater at Fereghet 383 Dragon's-Blood Trees at Yehazahaz 387 The Haghier Mountains from Suk 394 Castle at Kanfar 402 Dirgheg 408 Old Na'ab 413 Fadhli at Shariah, Wadi Reban, with Curious Sandal 418 Village of Mis'hal 421 Plain of Mis'hal and Aòdeli Tribe 425 Fragment of Alabasteroid Limestone 435 Sabæan Antiquities 436 MAPS Arabia, showing the Routes of Mr. J. Theodore Bent _to face p._ xii Hadramut 70 Dhofar and the Gara-Range 226 Mount Erba and Surrounding Country 286 Sokotra 342 The Fadhli Country, South Arabia 400 [Illustration: Map of ARABIA showing the routes of M^r. J. THEODORE BENT. Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London London: Smith, Elder & Co.] SOUTHERN ARABIA CHAPTER I MANAMAH AND MOHAREK The first Arabian journey that we undertook was in 1889, when we visited the Islands of Bahrein in the Persian Gulf; we were attracted by stories of mysterious mounds, and we proposed to see what we could find inside them, hoping, as turned out to be the fact, that we should discover traces of Phoenician remains. The search for traces of an old world takes an excavator now and again into strange corners of the new. Out of the ground he may extract treasures, or he may not--that is not our point here--out of the inhabitants and their strange ways he is sure, whether he likes it or not, to extract a great deal, and it is with this branch of an excavator's life we are now going to deal. We thought we were on the track of Phoenician remains and our interest in our work was like the fingers of an aneroid, subject to sudden changes, but at the same time we had perpetually around us a quaint, unknown world of the present, more pleasing to most people than anything pertaining to the past. The group of islands known as Bahrein (dual form of Bahr, _i.e._ two seas) lies in a bay of the same name in the Persian Gulf, about twenty miles off the coast of El Hasa in Arabia. Bahrein is really the name of the largest of the islands, which is twenty-seven miles long by ten wide. The second in point of size is Moharek, which lies north of Bahrein, and is separated from it by a strait of horse-shoe form, five miles in length, and in a few places as much as a mile wide, but for the greater part half a mile. The rest of the group are mere rocks: Sitrah, four miles long, with a village on it of the same name; Nebi Saleh, Sayeh, Khaseifa, and, to the east of Moharek, Arad, with a palm-grove and a large double Portuguese fort, an island or a peninsula according to the state of the tide. It was no use embarking on a steamer which would take us direct from England to our destination, owing to the complete uncertainty of the time when we should arrive, so we planned out our way _viâ_ Karachi and Maskat; then we had to go right up to Bushire, and again change steamers there, for the boats going up the Gulf would not touch at Bahrein. At Bushire we engaged five Persians to act as servants, interpreter, and overseers over the workmen whom we should employ in excavating. We had as our personal servant and interpreter combined a very dirty Hadji Abdullah, half Persian, half Arab. He was the best to be obtained, and his English was decidedly faulty. He always said _mules_ for meals, _foals_ for fowls, and any one who heard him say 'What time you eat your mules to-day, Sahib?' 'I have boiled two foals for dinner,' or 'Mem Sahib, now I go in bazaar to buy our perwisions of grub,' or 'What place I give you your grub, Mem Sahib?' would have been surprised. He had been a great deal on our men-of-war; he also took a present of horses from the Sultan of Maskat to the Queen, so that he could boast 'I been to Home,' and alluded to his stay in England as 'when I was in Home.' Abdullah always says _chuck_ and never _throw_; and people unused to him would not take in that 'Those peacock no good, carboys much better,' referred to pickaxes and crowbars. [Illustration: A MOSQUE AT MANAMAH, BAHREIN] He used to come to the diggings and say: 'A couble of Sheikhs come here in camp, Sahib. I am standing them some coffee; shall I stand them some mixed biscuits, too?' I must say I pity foreigners who have to trust to interpreters whose only European language is such English as this. With the whole of our party we embarked on the steamer which took us to Bahrein, or rather as close as it could approach; for, owing to the shallowness of the sea, while still far from shore we were placed in a baggala in which we sailed for about twenty minutes. Then when a smaller boat had conveyed us as near to the dry land as possible, we were in mid-ocean transferred, bag and baggage, to asses, those lovely white asses of Bahrein with tails and manes dyed yellow with henna, and grotesque patterns illuminating their flanks; we had no reins or stirrups, and as the asses, though more intelligent than our own, will not unfrequently show obstinacy in the water, the rider, firmly grasping his pommel, reaches with thankfulness the slimy, oozy beach of Bahrein. Manamah is the name of the town at which you land; it is the commercial capital of the islands--just a streak of white houses and bamboo huts, extending about a mile and a half along the shore. A few mosques with low minarets may be seen, having stone steps up one side, by which the priest ascends for the call to prayer. These mosques and the towers of the richer pearl merchants show some decided architectural features, having arches of the Saracenic order, with fretwork of plaster and quaint stucco patterns. On landing we were at once surrounded by a jabbering crowd of negro slaves, and stately Arabs with long, flowing robes and twisted camel-hair cords (akkal) around their heads. Our home while in the town was one of the best of the battlemented towers, and consisted of a room sixteen feet square, on a stone platform. It had twenty-six windows with no glass in them, but pretty lattice of plaster. Our wooden lock was highly decorated, and we had a wooden key to close our door, which pleased us much. Even though we were close upon the tropics we found our abode chilly enough after sunset; and our nights were rendered hideous--firstly, by the barking of dogs; secondly, by cocks which crowed at an inordinately early hour; and, thirdly, by pious Mussulmans hard at work praying before the sun rose. From our elevated position we could look down into a sea of bamboo huts, the habitations of the pearl-fishers: neat enough abodes, with courtyards paved with helix shells. In these courtyards stood quaint, large water-jars, which women filled from goat-skins carried on their shoulders from the wells, wobbling when full like live headless animals; and cradles, like hencoops, for their babies. They were a merry idle lot of folk just then, for it was not their season of work: perpetually playing games (of which tip-jack and top-spinning appeared the favourite for both young and old) seemed to be their chief occupation. Staid Arabs, with turbans and long, flowing robes, spinning tops, formed a sight of which we never tired. The spinning-tops are made out of whelk-shells, which I really believe must have been the original pattern from which our domestic toy was made. The door-posts of their huts are often made of whales' jaws; a great traffic is done in sharks; the cases for their swords and daggers are all of shagreen. The gulf well deserves the name given to it by Ptolemy of the _Ichthyophagorum sinus_. Walking through the bazaars one is much struck by the quaint, huge iron locks, some of them with keys nearly two feet long, and ingeniously opened by pressure of a spring. In the commoner houses the locks and keys are all of wood. In the bazaars, too, you may find that queer El Hasa money called Tawilah, or 'long bits,' short bars of copper doubled back and compressed together, with a few characters indicating the prince who struck them. The coffee-pots of Bahrein are quite a specialty, also coming from El Hasa, which appears to be the centre of art in this part of Arabia. With their long beak-like spouts and concentric circles with patterns on them, these coffee-pots are a distinct feature. In the bazaars of Manamah and Moharek coffee-vendors sit at every corner with some huge pots of a similar shape simmering on the embers; in the lid are introduced stones to make a noise and attract the attention of the passers-by. Coffee-shops take the place of spirit and wine shops, which in the strict Wahabi country would not be, for a moment, tolerated. In private houses it is thought well to have four or five coffee-pots standing round the fire, to give an appearance of riches. Besides the coffee-pots, other objects of El Hasa workmanship may be seen in Bahrein. Every household of respectability has its wooden bowl with which to offer visitors a drink of water or sour milk; these are beautifully inlaid with silver in very elaborate patterns. The guns used by Bahreini sportsmen are similarly inlaid, and the camel saddles of the sheikhs are most beautifully decorated on the pommels in the same style. The anvils, at which the blacksmiths in the bazaars were squatting, were like large nails with heads about six inches square, driven into the ground and about a foot high. The old weapons of the Bedouin Arabs are still in use in Bahrein: the long lance which is put up before the tent of the chief when he goes about, the shield of camel-skin decorated with gold paint and brass knobs, the coat of mail, and other objects of warfare used in an age long gone by. Every other stall has dates to sell in thick masses, the chief food of the islanders. Then you may see locusts pressed and pickled in barrels; the poorer inhabitants are very fond of this diet, and have converted the curse of the cultivator into a favourite delicacy. As for weights, the stall-holders would appear to have none but stones, whelk shells, and potsherds, which must be hard to regulate. An ancient Arab author states that in Oman 'men obtain fire from a spark, by rolling the tinder in dry Arab grass and swinging it round till it bursts into flame.' We often saw this process and bought one of the little cages, hanging to a long chain, which they use in Bahrein. Of course pearl-fishing is the great occupation of the islands, and Manamah is inhabited chiefly by pearl merchants and divers. Bahrein has in fact been celebrated for its pearl-fishing ever since the days of the Periplus of Nearchus, in the time of Alexander the Great. Albuquerque, in his commentaries,[1] thus speaks of Bahrein pearl-fishing in 1510:--'Bahrein is noted for its large breeding of horses, its barley crops, and the variety of its fruits; and all around it are the fishing grounds of seed pearls, and of pearls which are sent to these realms of Portugal, for they are better and more lasting than any that are found in any other of these parts.' This is also the verdict of the modern pearl merchants, who value Bahrein pearls, as more lasting and harder than those even of Ceylon. Evidently Albuquerque got an order from his sovereign for pearls, for he writes,[2] in 1515, that he is getting the pearls which the king had ordered for 'the pontifical of our lady.' To this day in their dealings the pearl merchants of Bahrein still make use of the old Portuguese weights and names. The pearl oyster is found in all the waters from Ras Mussendom to the head of the Gulf, but on the Persian side there are no known banks of value. They vary in distance from one to ninety miles from the low-lying shore of 'Araby the Blest,' but the deep sea banks are not so much fished till the 'Shemal' or nor'westers of June have spent their force. The three seasons for fishing are known as 'the spring fishing' in the shallow water, 'the summer fishing' in the deep waters, and 'the winter fishing' conducted principally by wading in the shoals. The pearls of these seas are still celebrated for their firmness, and do not peel. They are commonly reported to lose one per cent. annually for fifty years in colour and water, but after that they remain the same. They have seven skins, whereas the Cingalese pearls have only six. The merchants generally buy them wholesale by the old Portuguese weight of the _chao_. They divide them into different sizes with sieves and sell them in India, so that, as is usually the case with specialties, it is impossible to buy a good pearl on Bahrein. Diving here is exceedingly primitive; all the necessary paraphernalia consists of a loop of rope and a stone to go down with, a curious horn thing to hold the nose, and oil for the orifice of the ears. Once a merchant brought with him a diving apparatus, but the divers were highly indignant, and leaguing against him refused to show the best banks. In this way the fisheries suffer, for the best pearls are in the deeper waters, which can only be visited late in the season. The divers are mostly negro slaves from Africa; they do not live long, poor creatures, developing awful sores and weak eyes, and they live and die entirely without medical aid. At present the pearl-fisheries employ about four hundred boats of from eight to twenty men each. Each boat pays a tax to the sheikh. The fishing season lasts from April to October. Very curious boats ply in the waters between Manamah and Moharek; the huge ungainly baggalas can only sail in the deeper channels. The Bahrein boats have very long-pointed prows, elegantly carved and decorated with shells; when the wind is contrary they are propelled by poles or paddles, consisting of boards of any shape tied to the end of the poles with twine, and the oarsman always seats himself on the gunwale. Perhaps the way these boats are tied and sewn together may have given rise to the legend alluded to by Sir John Maundeville when he saw them at the Isle of Hormuz. 'Near that isle there are ships without nails of iron or bonds, on account of the rocks of adamants (loadstones), for they are all abundant there in that sea that it is marvellous to speak of, and if a ship passed there that had iron bonds or iron nails it would perish, for the adamant, by its nature, draws iron to it, and so it would draw the ship that it should never depart from it.' Many of the boats have curious-shaped stone anchors, and water casks of uniform and doubtless old-world shape. The sheikh has some fine war vessels, called _batils_, which did good execution about fifty years ago, when the Sultan of Oman and the rulers of El Hasa tried to seize Bahrein, and a naval battle took place in the shallow sea off the coast in which the Bahreini were victorious. Now that the Gulf is practically English and piracy at an end, these vessels are more ornamental than useful. His large baggala, which mounted ten tiny guns and was named the _Dunijah_, is now employed in trade. Then there are the bamboo skiffs with decks almost flush with the side, requiring great skill in working. Boats are really of but little use immediately around the islands. You see men walking in the sea quite a mile out, collecting shellfish and seaweeds, which form a staple diet for both man and beast on Bahrein. The shallowness of the sea between Bahrein and the mainland has contributed considerably to the geographical and mercantile importance of the Bahrein. No big vessels can approach the opposite coast of Arabia; hence, in olden days, when the caravan trade passed this way, all goods must have been transhipped to smaller boats at Bahrein. Sir M. Durant, in a consular report, states it as his opinion that, 'under a settled government, Bahrein could be the trading place of the Persian Gulf for Persia and Arabia, and an excellent harbour near the warehouses could be formed.' If the Euphrates Valley Railway had ever been opened, if the terminus of this railway had been at Koweit, as it was proposed by the party of survey under the command of Admiral Charlewood and General Chesney, the Bahrein group would at once have sprung into importance as offering a safe emporium in the immediate vicinity of this terminus. Bahrein is the Cyprus of the Persian Gulf, in fact. This day is, however, postponed indefinitely until such times as England, Turkey, and Russia shall see fit to settle their differences; and with a better understanding between these Powers, and the development of railways in the East, the Persian Gulf may yet once more become a high road of commerce, and the Bahrein Islands may again come into notice. The Portuguese, who were the first Europeans after the time of Alexander to visit the Gulf, recognised the importance of Bahrein. Up to their time the Gulf had been a closed Mohammedan lake. The history of their rule in that part has yet to be written, but it will disclose a tale of great interest, and be a record of marvellous commercial enterprise. It was Albuquerque who first reopened the Gulf to Europeans. Early in the sixteenth century (1504), he urged the occupation of the Gulf. In 1506 three fleets went to the East under the command of Tristan d'Acunha, with Albuquerque as second in command. Tristan soon took his departure further afield, and left Albuquerque in command. This admiral first attacked and took Hormuz, then governed by a king of Persian origin. Here, and at Maskat, he thoroughly established the Portuguese power, thereby commanding the entrance into the Gulf. From de Barros' account it would appear that the king of Bahrein was a tributary of the king of Hormuz, paying annually 40,000 _pardaos_, and from Albuquerque's letters we read that the occupation of Bahrein formed part of his scheme. 'With Hormuz and Bahrein in their hand the whole Gulf would be under their control,' he wrote. In fact, Albuquerque's scheme at that time would appear to have been exceedingly vast and rather chimerical--namely, to divert the Nile from its course and let it flow into the Red Sea, ruin Egypt, and bring the India trade _viâ_ the Persian Gulf to Europe. Of this scheme we have only the outline, but, beyond establishing fortresses in the Gulf, it fell through, for Albuquerque died, and with him his gigantic projects. The exact date of the occupation of Bahrein by the Portuguese I have as yet been unable to discover; but in 1521 we read of an Arab insurrection in Bahrein against the Persians and Portuguese, in which the Portuguese factor, Ruy Bale, was tortured and crucified. Sheikh Hussein bin Said, of the Arabian tribe of Ben Zabia, was the instigator of this revolt. In the following year the Portuguese governor, Dom Luis de Menezes, came to terms with him, and appointed him Portuguese representative in the island. A few years later, one Ras Bardadim, _guazil_, or governor of Bahrein, made himself objectionable, and against him Simeon d'Acunha was sent. He and many of his men died of fever in the expedition, but the Portuguese power was again restored. Towards the close of the sixteenth century the Portuguese came under the rule of Spain, and from that date their power in the Persian Gulf began to wane. Their soldiers were drafted off to the wars in Flanders instead of going to the East to protect the colonies; and the final blow came in 1622, when Shah Abbas of Persia, assisted by an English fleet, took Hormuz, and then Bahrein. Twenty years later a company of Portuguese merchants, eager for the pearls of these islands, organised an expedition from Goa to recover the Bahrein, but the ships were taken and plundered by the Arabs before ever they entered the Gulf. Thus fell the great Portuguese power in the Gulf, the sole traces of which now are the numerous fortresses, such as the one on Bahrein. From 1622 to the present time the control over Bahrein has been contested between the Persians and Arabs, and as the Persian power has been on the wane, the Arabian star has been in the ascendent. In 1711 the Sultan bin Seif wrested Bahrein from Persia; in 1784 the Uttubbi of El Hasa conquered it. They have held it ever since, despite the attempts of Seyid Said of Oman, of the Turks and Persians, to take it from them. The Turks have, however, succeeded in driving them out of their original kingdom of El Hasa, on the mainland of Arabia opposite, and now the Bahrein is all that remains to them of their former extensive territories. The royal family is a numerous one, being a branch of the El Khalifa tribe. They are the chiefs of the Uttubbi tribe of Arabs. Most of them, if not actually belonging to that strict sect of Arabians known as Wahabi, have strong puritanical proclivities. Our teetotalers are nothing to them in bigotry. If a vendor of intoxicating liquor started a shop on Bahrein, they would burn his house down, so that the wicked who want to drink any intoxicating liquor have to buy the material secretly from ships in the harbour. Many think it wrong to smoke, and spend their lives in prayer and fasting. Church decoration is an abomination to the Wahabi; therefore, in Bahrein the mosques are little better than barns with low minarets, for the very tall ones of other Mohammedan sects are forbidden. The Wahabi are fanatics of the deepest dye; 'there is one God, and Mohammed is his prophet,' they say with the rest of the Mohammedan world, but the followers of Abdul Wahab add, 'and in no case must Mohammed and the Imams be worshipped lest glory be detracted from God.' All titles to them are odious; no grand tombs are to be erected over their dead, no mourning is allowed; hence the cemetery at Manamah is but a pitiful place--a vast collection of circles set with rough stones, each with a small uninscribed headpiece, and the surface sprinkled with helix shells. The Wahabi would wage, if they dared, perpetual war not only against the infidel, but against such perverted individuals as those who go to worship at Mecca and other sacred shrines. The founder of this revival is reported to have beaten his sons to death for drinking wine, and to have made his daughters support themselves by spinning, but at the same time he felt himself entitled to give to a fanatical follower, who courted death for his sake, an order for an emerald palace and a large number of female slaves in the world to come. In 1867 the Shah of Persia aimed at acquiring Bahrein, though his only claim to it was based on the fact that Bahrein had been an appanage of the Persian crown under the Suffavian kings. He instituted a revolt on the island; adopted a claimant to the sheikhdom, and got him to hoist the Persian flag. Our ships blockaded Bahrein, intercepted letters, and obliged the rebel sheikh to quit. Then it was that we took the islands under our protection. In 1875 the Turks caused trouble, and the occupation of Bahrein formed part of their great scheme of conquest in Arabia. Our ship the _Osprey_ appeared on the scene, drove back the Turks, transported to India several sheikhs who were hostile to the English rule, and placed Sheikh Isa (or Esau) on the throne under British protection, under which he rules happily to this day. We went to see him at Moharek, where he holds his court in the winter-time. We crossed over in a small baggala, and had to be poled for a great distance with our keel perpetually grating on the bottom. It was like driving in a carriage on a jolting road; the donkeys trotted independently across, their legs quite covered with water. We were glad when they came alongside, and we completed our journey on their backs. The courtyard of the palace, which somewhat recalls the Alhambra in its architecture, was, when we arrived, crowded with Arab chiefs in all manner of quaint costumes. His majesty's dress was exceedingly fine. He and his family are entitled to wear their camel-hair bands bound round with gold thread. These looked very regal over the red turban, and his long black coat, with his silver-studded sword by his side, made him look every inch a king. He is most submissive to British interests, inasmuch as his immediate predecessors who did not love England were shipped off to India, and still languish there in exile; as he owes his throne entirely to British protection, he and his family will probably continue to reign as long as the English are virtual owners of the Gulf, if they are willing to submit to the English protectorate. We got a photograph of a group of them resting on their guns, and with their kanjars or sickle-shaped daggers at their waists. We took Prince Mohamed, the heir-apparent, and the stout Seid bin Omar, the prime minister of Bahrein. But Sheikh Esau refused to place his august person within reach of our camera. During our visit we were seated on high arm-chairs of the kind so much used in India, and the only kind used here. They were white and hoary with old age and long estrangement from furniture polish. For our sins we had to drink the bitterest black coffee imaginable, which tasted like varnish from the bitter seeds infused in it; this was followed by cups of sweet syrup flavoured with cinnamon, a disagreeable custom to those accustomed to take their coffee and sugar together. Moharek is aristocratic, being the seat of government; Manamah is essentially commercial, and between them in the sea is a huge dismantled Portuguese fort, now used as Sheikh Esau's stables. The town of Moharek gets its water supply from a curious source, springing up from under the sea. At high tide there is about a fathom of salt water over the spring, and water is brought up either by divers who go down with skins, or by pushing a hollow bamboo down into it. At low tide there is very little water over it, and women with large amphora and goat-skins wade out and fetch what water they require; they tell me that the spring comes up with such force that it drives back the salt water and never gets impregnated. All I can answer for is that the water is excellent to drink. This source is called Bir Mahab, and there are several of a similar nature on the coast around: the Kaseifah spring and others. There is such a spring in the harbour of Syracuse, about twenty feet under the sea. The legend is that in the time of Merwan, a chief, Ibn Hakim, from Katif, wished to marry the lovely daughter of a Bahrein chief. His suit was not acceptable, so he made war on the islands and captured all the wells which supplied the towns on the bigger island; but the guardian deity of the Bahreini caused this spring to break out in the sea just before Moharek, and the invader was thus in time repulsed. It is a curious fact that Arados or Arvad, the Phoenician town on the Mediterranean, was supplied by a similar submarine source. Sheikh Esau's representative at Manamah--his prime minister or viceroy, we should call him, though he is usually known there by the humble-sounding title of the 'bazaar master,' by name Seid bin Omar, is a very stout and nearly black individual, with a European cast of countenance. He looked exceedingly grand when he came to see us, in his under-robe of scarlet cloth, with a cloak of rustling and stiff white wool with a little red woven in it. Over his head floated a white cashmere shawl, with the usual camel-hair rings to keep it on, and sandals on his bare feet. He was deputed by his sovereign to look after us, and during the fortnight we were on the island he never left us for a single day. Though outwardly very strict in his asceticism, and constantly apt to say his prayers with his nose in the dust at inconvenient moments, we found him by no means averse to a cigarette in the strictest privacy, and we learnt that his private life would not bear European investigation. He is constantly getting married. Though sixty years of age he had a young bride of a few weeks' standing. I was assured that he would soon tire of her and put her away. Even in polygamous Arabia he is looked upon as a much-married man. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: P. 164.] [Footnote 2: P. 328.] CHAPTER II THE MOUNDS OF ALI And now behold us excavators on the way to the scene of our labours. Six camels conveyed our tents, a seventh carried goat-skins full of water. Four asses groaned under our personal effects; hens for consumption rode in a sort of lobster-pot by the side of clattering pickaxes and chairs; six policemen, or _peons_, were in our train, each on a donkey. One carried a paraffin lamp, another a basket of eggs on the palm of his hand, and as there were no reins and no stirrups, the wonder is that these articles ever survived. As for ourselves, we, like everybody else, rode sideways, holding on like grim death before and behind, especially when the frisky Bahrein donkeys galloped at steeplechase pace across the desert. For some distance around Manamah all is arid desert, on which grow a few scrubby plants, which women cut for fodder with sickle-like saws, and carry home in large bundles on their backs. Sheikh Esau's summer palace is in the centre of this desert--a fortress hardly distinguishable from the sand around, and consisting, like Eastern structures of this nature, of nothing but one room over the gateway for his majesty, and a vast courtyard 200 feet long, where his attendants erect their bamboo huts and tents. Around the whole runs a wall with bastions at each corner, very formidable to look upon. Passing this, the palm-groves, which are exceedingly fine, are soon reached, and offer delicious shade from the burning sun. Here amongst the trees were women working in picturesque attire, red petticoats, orange-coloured drawers down to their heels, and a dark blue covering over all this, which would suddenly be pulled over the face at our approach, if they had not on their masks, or _buttras_, which admit of a good stare. The _buttra_ is a kind of mask, more resembling a bridle than anything else. In shape it is like two diamond-frames made of gold and coloured braids, fastened together by two of their lower edges. This middle strip comes down the nose and covers the mouth, and the sides come between the ears and eyes. It affords very little concealment, but is very becoming to most of its wearers, particularly if they happen to be negresses. On their heads would be baskets with dates or citrons, and now and again a particularly modest one would dart behind a palm-tree until that dangerous animal man had gone by. About half way to the scene of our labours we halted by the ruins of the old Arab town, Beled-al-Kadim. This ancient capital, dating from a period prior to the Portuguese occupation, still presents some interesting ruins. The old mosque (Madresseh-i-abu-Zeidan), with its two slender and elegant minarets, so different from the horrible Wahabi constructions of to-day, forms a conspicuous landmark for ships approaching the low-lying coasts of these islands. Around the body of the mosque runs a fine inscription in Kufic letters, and from the fact that the name of Ali is joined with that of the Prophet in the profession of faith, we may argue that this mosque was built during some Persian occupation, and was a Shiite mosque. The architecture, too, is distinctly Persian, recalling to us in its details the ruins of Rhey (the Rhages of Tobit) and of Sultanieh, which we saw in the north of Persia, and has nothing Arabian about it. Ruins of houses and buildings surround this mosque, and here in the open space in the centre of the palm-groves the Bahreini assemble every Thursday for a market; in fact the place is generally known now as Suk-el-Khamis, or Thursday's Market. On our journey out not a soul was near, but on our return we had an opportunity of attending one of these gatherings. Sheikh Esau has here a tiny mosque, just an open _loggia_, where he goes every morning in summer-time to pray and take his coffee. Beneath it he has a bath of fresh but not over-clean water, where he and his family bathe. Often during the summer heats he spends the whole day here, or else he goes to his glorious garden about a mile distant, near the coast, where acacias, hibiscus, and almonds fight with one another for the mastery, and form a delicious tangle. Another mile on, closer to the sea, is the fine ruined fortress of the Portuguese, Gibliah, as the natives call it now, just as they do one of the fortresses at Maskat. It covers nearly two acres of ground, and is built out of the remains of the old Persian town, for many Kufic inscriptions are let into the wall, and the deep well in the centre is lined with them. It is a regular bastioned fortification of the sixteenth century, with moat, embrasures in the parapets, and casemented embrasures in the re-entering angles of the bastions, and is one of the finest specimens of Portuguese architecture in the Gulf, an evidence of the importance which they attached to this island. Amongst the rubbish in the fort we picked up numerous fragments of fine Nankin and Celadon china, attesting to the ubiquity and commerce of the former owners, and attesting, also, to the luxury of the men who ruled here--a luxury as fatal almost as the Flanders wars to the well-being of the Portuguese in the East. Our road led us on through miles of palm-groves, watered by their little artificial conduits, and producing the staple food of the island. Seid bin Omar talked to us much about the date. 'Mohammed said,' he began, 'honour the date-tree, for she is your mother,' a true enough maxim in parched Arabia, where nothing else will grow. When ripe the dates are put into a round tank, called the _madibash_, where they are exposed to the sun and air, and throw off excessive juice which collects below; after three days of this treatment they are removed and packed for exportation in baskets of palm leaves. The Bahreini, for their own consumption, love to add sesame seeds to their dates, or ginger powder and walnuts pressed with them into jars. These are called _sirah_, and are originally prepared by being dried in the sun and protected at night, then diluted date-juice is poured over them. The fruit which does not reach maturity is called _salang_, and is given as food to cattle, boiled with ground date-stones and fish bones. This makes an excellent sort of cake for milch cows; this, and the green dates also, are given to the donkeys, and to this food the Bahreini attribute their great superiority. The very poor also make an exceedingly unpalatable dish out of green dates mixed with fish for their own table, or, I should say, floor. Nature here is not strong enough for the fructification of the palm, so at given seasons the pollen is removed by cutting off the male spathes; these they dry for twenty hours, and then they take the flower twigs and deposit one or two in each bunch of the female blossom. Just as we were there they were very busy with the spathes, and in Thursday's Market huge baskets of the male spathes were exposed for sale. The palm-groves are surrounded by dykes to keep the water in. The date-tree is everything to a Bahreini. He beats the green spadix with wooden implements to make fibre for his ropes; in the dry state he uses it as fuel; he makes his mats, the only known form of carpet and bedding here, out of it; his baskets are made of the leaves. From the fresh spathe, by distillation, a certain stuff called _tara_ water is obtained, of strong but agreeable smell, which is much used for the making of sherbet. Much legendary lore is connected with the date. The small round hole at the back is said to have been made by Mohammed's teeth, when one day he foolishly tried to bite one; and in some places the expression 'at the same time a date and a duty,' is explained by the fact that in Ramazan the day's fast is usually broken by first eating a date. Amongst all these date-groves are the curious Arab wells, with sloping runs, and worked by donkeys. The tall poles, to which the skins are attached, are date-tree trunks. Down goes the skin bucket as the donkey comes up a steep slope in the ground, and then, as he goes down, up it comes again full of water, to be guided into the channel, which fertilises the trees, by a slave, who supports himself going up, and adds his weight to that of the descending donkey, by putting his arm through a large wooden ring hung at the donkey's shoulder. Day after day in our camp we heard the weird creaking from these wells, very early in the morning and in the evening when the sun had gone down, and we felt as we heard it what an infinite blessing is a well of water in a thirsty land. Leaving the palm-groves and the Portuguese fortress behind us, we re-entered the desert to the south-west; and, just beyond the village of Ali, we came upon that which is the great curiosity of Bahrein, to investigate which was our real object in visiting the island: for there begins that vast sea of sepulchral mounds, the great necropolis of an unknown race which extends far and wide across the plain. The village of Ali forms as it were the culminating point; it lies just on the borders of the date-groves, and there the mounds reach an elevation of over forty feet, but as they extend further southward they diminish in size, until miles away, in the direction of Rufa'a, we found mounds elevated only a few feet above the level of the desert, and some mere circular heaps of stones. There are many thousands of these tumuli extending over an area of desert for many miles. There are isolated groups of mounds in other parts of the islands, and a few solitary ones are to be found on the adjacent islets, on Moharek, Arad, and Sitrah. Complete uncertainty existed as to the origin of these mounds, and the people who constructed them, but, from classical references and the result of our own work, there can now be no doubt that they are of Phoenician origin. Herodotus[3] gives us as a tradition current in his time that the forefathers of the Phoenician race came from these parts. The Phoenicians themselves believed in it: 'It is their own account of themselves,' says Herodotus; and Strabo[4] brings further testimony to bear on the subject, stating that two of the islands now called Bahrein were called Tyros and Arados. Pliny follows in Strabo's steps, but calls the island Tylos instead of Tyros, which may be only an error in spelling, or may be owing to the universal confusion of _r_ with _l_. Ptolemy in his map places Gerrha, the mart of ancient Indian trade and the starting-point for caravans on the great road across Arabia, on the coast just opposite the islands, near where the town of El Katif now is, and accepts Strabo's and Pliny's names for the Bahrein Islands, calling them Tharros, Tylos or Tyros, and Arados. The fact is that all our information on the islands prior to the Portuguese occupation comes from the Periplus of Nearchus. Eratosthenes, a naval officer of Alexander's, states that the Gulf was 10,000 stadia long from Cape Armozum, _i.e._ Hormuz, to Teredon (Koweit), and the mouth of the Euphrates. Androsthenes of Thasos, who was of the company of Nearchus, made an independent geographical survey of the Gulf on the Arabian side, and his statements are, that on an island called Ikaros, now Peludji, just off Koweit, he saw a temple of Apollo. Southwards, at a distance of 2,400 stadia, or 43 nautical leagues, he came on Gerrha, and, close to it, the islands of Tyros and Arados, 'which have temples like those of the Phoenicians,' who were (the inhabitants told him) colonists from these parts. From Nearchus, too, we learn that the Phoenicians had a town called Sidon or Sidodona in the Gulf, which he visited, and on an island called Tyrine was shown the tomb of Erythras, which he describes as 'an elevated hillock covered with palms,' just like our mounds, and Erythras was the king who gave his name to the Gulf. Justin accepts the migration of the Phoenicians from the Persian Gulf as certain; and M. Renan says, 'The primitive abode of the Phoenicians must be placed on the Lower Euphrates, in the centre of the great commercial and maritime establishments of the Persian Gulf.'[5] As for the temples, there are no traces of them left, and this is also the case in Syrian Phoenicia; doubtless they were all built of wood, which will account for their disappearance. As we ourselves, during the course of our excavations, brought to light objects of distinctly Phoenician origin, there would appear to be no longer any room for doubt that the mounds which lay before us were a vast necropolis of this mercantile race. If so, one of two suppositions must be correct, either firstly, that the Phoenicians originally lived here before they migrated to the Mediterranean, and that this was the land of Punt from which the Puni got their name, a land of palms like the Syrian coast from which the race got their distorted Greek appellation of Phoenicians; or secondly, that these islands were looked upon by them as a sacred spot for the burial of their dead, as the Hindoo looks upon the Ganges, and the Persian regards the shrines of Kerbela and Meshed. I am much more inclined to the former supposition, judging from the mercantile importance of the Bahrein Islands and the excellent school they must have been for a race which was to penetrate to all the then known corners of the globe--to brave the dangers of the open Atlantic, and to reach the shores of Britain in their trading ventures; and if nomenclature goes for anything, the name of Tyros and the still-existing name of Arad ought to confirm us in our belief and make certainty more certain. Our camp was pitched on this desert among the tumuli. The ground was hard and rough, covered with very sharp stones; though dry, it sounded hollow, and it seemed as though there were water under it. Our own tent occupied a conspicuous and central place; our servants' tent was hard by, liable to be blown down by heavy gusts of wind, which event happened the first night after our arrival, to the infinite discomfiture of the bazaar-master, who, by the way, had left his grand clothes at home, and appeared in the desert clad in a loose coffee-coloured dressing-gown, with a red band round his waist. Around the tents swarmed turbaned diggers, who looked as if they had come out in their night-gowns, dressing-gowns, and bath-sheets. These lodged at night in the bamboo village of Ali hard by, a place for which we developed the profoundest contempt, for the women thereof refused to pollute themselves by washing the clothes of infidels, and our garments had to be sent all the way to Manamah to be cleansed. A bamboo structure formed a shelter for the kitchen, around which, on the sand, lay curious coffee-pots, bowls, and cooking utensils, which would have been eagerly sought after for museums in Europe. The camel, which fetched the daily supply of water from afar, grazed around on the coarse desert herbage; the large white donkey which went into the town for marketing by day, and entangled himself in the tent ropes by night, was also left to wander at his own sweet will. This desert camp was evidently considered a very peculiar sight indeed, and no wonder that for the first week of our residence there, we were visited by all the inhabitants of Bahrein who could find time to come so far. It was very weird to sit in our tent door the first evening and look at the great mound we were going to dig into next morning, and think how long it had stood there in the peace its builders hoped for it. There seemed to be quite a mournful feeling about disturbing it; but archæologists are a ruthless body, and this was to be the last night it would ever stand in its perfect shape. After all, we were full of hope of finding out the mystery of its origin. The first attack next morning was most amusing to behold. My husband headed the party, looking very tall and slim, with his legs outlined against the sky, as he, with all the rest, in single file and in fluttering array, wound first round the mound to look for a good place to ascend, and then went straight up. They were all amazed when I appeared and gave orders to the division under my command. They looked very questioningly indeed, but, as the Persians had learnt to respect me, the Bahreini became quite amenable. [Illustration: THEODORE BENT RECEIVING VISITORS AT THE MOUNDS, BAHREIN] The dimensions of the mound on which we began our labours were as follows: 35 feet in height, 76 feet in diameter, and 152 paces in circumference. We chose this in preference to the higher mounds, the tops of which were flattened somewhat and suggested the idea that they had fallen in. Ours, on the contrary, was quite rounded on the summit, and gave every hope that in digging through it we should find whatever was inside in _statu quo_. At a distance of several feet from most of the mounds are traces of an outer encircling wall or bank of earth, similar to walls found around certain tombs in Lydia, as also round a tumulus at Tara in Ireland, and this encircling wall was more marked around some of the smaller and presumably more recent tombs at the outer edge of the necropolis; in some cases several mounds would appear to have been clustered together, and to have had an encircling wall common to them all. We dug from the top of our mound for 15 feet, with great difficulty, through a sort of conglomerate earth, nearly as hard as cement, before we reached anything definite. Then suddenly this close earth stopped, and we came across a layer of large loose stones, entirely free from soil, which layer covered the immediate top of the tombs for two feet. Beneath these stones, and immediately on the flat slabs forming the roof of the tomb, had been placed palm branches, which in the lapse of ages had become white and crumbly, and had assumed the flaky appearance of asbestos. This proved that the palm flourished on Bahrein at the date of these tombs, and that the inhabitants were accustomed to make use of it for constructive purposes. Six very large slabs of rough unhewn limestone, which had obviously come from Jebel Dukhan, lay on the top of the tomb, forming a roof. One of these was 6 feet in length, and 2 feet 2 inches in depth. The tomb itself was composed of two chambers, one immediately over the other, and approached by a long passage, like the dromos of rock-cut Greek tombs, which was full of earth and small stones. The entrance, as was that of all the tombs, was towards the sunset. This passage was 53 feet in length, extending from the outer rim of the circle to the mouth of the tomb. Around the outer circle of the mound itself ran a wall of huge stones, evidently to support the weight of earth necessary to conceal the tomb, and large unhewn stones closed the entrance to the two chambers of the tomb at the head of the passage. We first entered the upper chamber, the floor of which was covered with gritty earth. It was 30 feet long, and at the four corners were recesses 2 feet 10 inches in depth, and the uniform height of this chamber was 4 feet 6 inches. The whole surface of the interior to the depth of two or three inches above the other _débris_ was covered with yellow earth composed of the tiny bones of the jerboa, that rat-like animal which is found in abundance on the shores of the Persian Gulf. There was no sign of any recent ones and only a few fragments of skulls to show what this yellow earth had been. We then proceeded to remove the rubbish and sift it for what we could find. The chief objects of interest consisted in innumerable fragments of ivory, fragments of circular boxes, pendants with holes for suspension (obviously used as ornaments by this primitive race), the torso of a small statue in ivory, the hoof of a bull fixed on to an ivory pedestal, evidently belonging to a small statue of a bull, the foot of another little statue, and various fragments of ivory utensils. Many of these fragments had patterns inscribed on them--rough patterns of scales, rosettes, encircling chains, and the two parallel lines common to so many ivory fragments found at Kameiros, and now in the British Museum. In fact, the decorations on most of them bear a close and unmistakable resemblance to ivories found in Phoenician tombs on the shores of the Mediterranean, and to the ivories in the British Museum from Nimrud in Assyria, universally accepted as having been executed by Phoenician artists: those cunning workers in ivory and wood whom Solomon employed in the building of his temple, and, before the spread of Egyptian and Greek art, the travelling artists of the world. The ivory fragments we found were given into the hands of Mr. A. S. Murray, of the British Museum, who wrote to my husband as follows: 'I have not the least doubt, judging from the incised patterns, from bull's foot, part of a figure, &c., that the ivories are of Phoenician workmanship.' The pottery found in this tomb offered no very distinctive features, being coarse and unglazed, but the numerous fragments of ostrich egg-shells, coloured and scratched with rough patterns in bands, also pointed to a Phoenician origin, or at least to a race of wide mercantile connection: and in those days the Phoenicians were the only people likely to combine in their commerce ostrich egg-shells and ivory. We also found small shapeless pieces of oxidised metal, brass or copper. There were no human bones in the upper chamber, but those of a large animal, presumably a horse. The chamber immediately beneath was much more carefully constructed; it was exactly the same length, but was higher, being 6 feet 7 inches, and the passage was wider. It was entirely coated with cement of two qualities, the upper coat being the finest, in which all round the walls at intervals of two feet were holes sloping inwards and downward. In similar holes, in one of the other tombs we opened, we found traces of wood, showing that poles on which to hang drapery had been inserted. The ground of this lower chamber was entirely covered with a thin brown earth of a fibrous nature, in appearance somewhat resembling snuff; it was a foot in depth, and evidently the remains of the drapery which had been hung around the walls. Prior to the use of coffins the Phoenicians draped their dead,[6] and amongst this substance we found traces of human bones. Thus we were able to arrive at the system of sepulture employed by this unknown race. Evidently their custom was to place in the upper chamber broken utensils and the body of an animal belonging to the deceased, and to reserve the lower chamber for the corpse enshrouded in drapery. For the use of this upper chamber our parallels are curiously enough all Phoenician. Perrot gives us an example of two-storied tombs in the cemetery of Amrit, in Phoenicia, where also the bodies were embedded in plaster to prevent decay prior to the introduction of the sarcophagus, reminding us of the closely cemented lower chambers in our mounds. A mound containing a tomb with one chamber over the other was in 1888 observed in Sardinia, and is given by Della Marmora as of Phoenician origin. Here, however, the top of the tomb is conical, not flat, as in our mounds, which would point to a later development of the double chamber which eventually blossomed forth into the lofty mausolea of the later Phoenician epoch, and the grandiose tombs of Hellenic structure. Also at Carthage, that very same year that we were in Bahrein, _i.e._ 1889, excavations brought to light certain tombs of the early Phoenician settlers which also have the double chamber. In answer to Perrot's assertion that all early Phoenician tombs were _hypogea_, we may say that as the Bahrein Islands offered no facility for this method of sepulture, the closely-covered-in mound would be the most natural substitute. Before leaving the tombs we opened a second, and a smaller one of coarser construction, which confirmed in every way the conclusions we had arrived at in opening the larger tomb. Near the village of Ali, one of the largest mounds has been pulled to pieces for the stones. By creeping into the cavities opened we were able to ascertain that the chambers in this mound were similar to those in the mound we had opened, only they were double on both stories, and the upper story was also coated with cement. Two chambers ran parallel to each other, and were joined at the two extremities. Sir M. Durand also opened one of the mounds, but unfortunately the roof of the tomb had fallen in, which prevented him from obtaining any satisfactory results; but from the general appearance, it would seem to have been constructed on exactly the same lines as our larger one. Hence we had the evidence of four tombs to go upon, and felt that these must be pretty fair specimens of what the many thousands were which extended around us. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 3: II. 89.] [Footnote 4: XVI. iii. 4.] [Footnote 5: _Hist. des langues sémitiques_, ii. 183.] [Footnote 6: Perrot, _History of Art in Phoenicia_.] CHAPTER III OUR VISIT TO RUFA'A During the time that we spent at Ali we had numerous visitors. The first day came five camels with two riders apiece, and a train of donkeys, bringing rich pearl merchants from the capital; these sat in a circle and complacently drank our coffee and ate our mixed biscuits, without in any way troubling us, having apparently come for no other object than to get this slender refreshment. Next day came Sheikh Mohammed, a young man of seventeen, a nephew of Sheikh Esau, who was about to wed his uncle's daughter, and was talked of as the heir-apparent to the throne; he was all gorgeous in a white embroidered robe, red turban, and head rings bound in royal gold. He played with our pistols with covetous eyes, ate some English cake, having first questioned the bazaar-master as to the orthodoxy of its ingredients, and then he promised us a visit next day. He came on the morrow, on a beautifully caparisoned horse, with red trappings and gold tassels. He brought with him many followers and announced his intention of passing the day with us, rather to our distress; but we were appeased by the present of a fat lamb with one of those large bushy tails which remind one forcibly of a lady's bustle, and suggests that the ingenious milliner who invented these atrocities must have taken for her pattern an Eastern sheep. This day 'Prince' Mohammed handled the revolver more covetously than ever, and got so far as exchanging his scarlet embroidered case, with red silk belt and silver buckle, for my leathern one. Sheikh Mohammed was very anxious to see how I could shoot with my revolver, so a brown pot containing about half a pint of water was put on a lump of rock as a mark. I was terrified; for I knew if I missed, as I surely expected, I should bring great discredit on myself and my nation, and there was such a crowd! My husband said I must try, and I am sure no one was more astonished than I was that I shattered the pot. If I had not it would have been said that I only carried the revolver for show. That afternoon a great cavalcade of gazelle huntsmen called upon us. The four chief men of these had each a hooded falcon on his arm, and a tawny Persian greyhound, with long silky tail, at his side. They wore their sickle-like daggers in their waistbands; their bodies were enveloped in long cloaks, and their heads in white cloths bound round with the camel-hair straps; they were accompanied by another young scion of the El Khalifa family, who bestrode a white Arab steed with the gayest possible trappings. Thus was this young prince attired: on his head a cashmere kerchief with gold akkal; he was almost smothered in an orange cloth gown trimmed with gold and lined with green, the sleeves of which were very long, cut open at the ends and trimmed; over this robe was cast a black cloth cloak trimmed with gold on the shoulders, and a richly inlaid sword dangled at his side, almost as big as himself, for he was but an undersized boy of fifteen. The sportsmen made a very nice group for our photography, as did almost everything around us on Bahrein. Any excavator would have lost patience with the men of Bahrein with whom we had to deal; tickets had to be issued to prevent more men working than were wanted, and claiming pay at the end of the day; ubiquity was essential, for they loved to get out of sight and do nothing; with unceasing regularity the pipe went round and they paused for a 'drink' at the bubble-bubble, as the Arabs express it; morning, noon-tide, and evening prayers were, I am sure, unnecessarily long. Accidents would happen, which alarmed us at first, until we learnt how ready they were to cry wolf: one man was knocked over by a stone; we thought by his contortions some limb must be broken, and we applied vaseline, our only available remedy, to the bruise; his fellow-workmen then seized him by the shoulders, he keeping his arms crossed the while, shook him well 'to put the bones right again,' as they expressed it, and he continued his work as before. The bazaar-master and the policeman would come and frantically seize a tool, and work for a few seconds with herculean vigour by way of example, which was never followed. 'Yallah!' 'hurry on' (_i.e._ Oh God); 'Marhabbah!' 'very good,' the men would cry, and they would sing and scream with a vigour that nearly drove us wild. But for the occasional application of a stick by the bazaar-master and great firmness, we should have got nothing out of them but noise. One day we had a mutiny because my husband dismissed two men who came very late; the rest refused to work, and came dancing round us, shouting and brandishing spades. One had actually got hold of a naked sword, which weapon I did not at all like, and I was thankful 'Prince' Mohammed had not yet got the revolver. For some time they continued this wild weird dance, consigning us freely to the lower regions as they danced, and then they all went away, so that the bazaar-master had to be sent in search of other and more amenable men. Evidently Sheikh Esau, when he entrusted us to the charge of the bazaar-master and sent policemen with us, was afraid of something untoward happening. Next day we heard that his majesty was coming in person with his tents to encamp in our vicinity, and I fancy we were in more danger from those men than we realised at the moment, fanned as they are into hatred of the infidel by the fanatical Wahabi; thirty years ago, I was told, no infidel could have ventured into the centre of Bahrein with safety. Another important visitor came on Saturday in the shape of Sheikh Khallet, a cousin of the ruling chief, with a retinue of ten men, from Rufa'a, an inland village. We sat for awhile on our heels in rows, conversing and smiling, and finally accepted an invitation from Sheikh Khallet to visit him at his village, and make a little tour over the island. Accordingly, on Sunday morning we started, accompanied by the bazaar-master, for Rufa'a, and we were not a little relieved to get away before Sheikh Esau was upon us, and escape the formalities which his royal presence in our midst would have necessitated. We had an exceedingly hot ride of it, and the wind was so high that our position on our donkeys was rendered even more precarious than usual. The desert sand whirled around us: we shut our eyes, tied down our hats, and tried to be patient; for miles our road led through the tumuli of those mysterious dead, who once in their thousands must have peopled Bahrein; their old wells are still to be seen in the desert, and evidences of a cultivation which has long ago disappeared. As we approached the edge of this vast necropolis the mounds grew less and less, until mere heaps of stones marked the spot where a dead man lay, and then we saw before us the two villages of Rufa'a. Of these, one is known as Rufa'a Shergeh, or South-western Rufa'a; the other, which belongs to the young Prince Mohammed, is called Rufa'a Jebeli. The Rufa'a are much older than Moharek, or Manamah; they are fortified with castellated walls of mud brick. Many of the El Khalifa family reside here in comfortable houses. South-western Rufa'a is quite a big place, and as our arrival became known all the village turned out to see us. The advent of an English lady among them was something too excessively novel: even close-veiled women forgot their prudery, and peered out from their blue coverings, screaming with laughter, and pointing as they screamed to the somewhat appalled object of their mirth. 'Hade bibi!' ('there goes the lady'), shouted they again and again. No victorious potentate ever had a more triumphant entry into his capital than the English 'bibi' had on entering South-western Rufa'a. Sheikh Khallet was ready to receive us in his _kahwa_ or reception-room, furnished solely by strips of matting and a camel-hair rug with coarse embroidery on it; two pillows were produced for us, and Arabs squatted on the matting all round the wall, for it was Sheikh Khallet's morning reception, or _majilis_, just then, and we were the lions of the occasion. Our host, we soon learnt, rather to our dismay, was a most rigid ascetic--a Wahabi to the backbone. He allows of no internal decorations in his house; no smoking is allowed, no wine, only perpetual coffee and perpetual prayers; our prospects were not of the most brilliant. Some of the Wahabi think even coffee wrong. After a while all the company left, and Sheikh Khallet intimated to us that the room was now our own. Two more large pillows were brought, and rugs were laid down; as for the rest we were dependent on our own very limited resources. We had brought our own sheets with us. [Illustration: THE INTERIOR OF SHEIKH SABA'S HOUSE AT RUFA'A, BAHREIN] Sheikh Saba, who had married Sheikh Khallet's sister, was a great contrast to our host; he had been in Bombay and had imbibed in his travels a degree of worldliness which ill became a Wahabi. He had filled his house, to which he took us, with all sorts of baubles--gilt looking-glasses hanging on the walls; coloured glass balls in rows and rows up to the ceiling, each on a little looking-glass; lovely pillows and carpets, Zanzibar date baskets, Bombay inlaid chests, El Hasa coffee-pots, and a Russian tea-urn--a truly marvellous conglomeration of things, which produced on us a wonderful sense of pleasure and repose after the bareness of our host's abode. Sheikh Saba wore only his long white shirt and turban, and so unconventional was he that he allowed his consort to remain at one end of the room whilst my husband was there. The courtyards of these houses are architecturally interesting: the Saracenic arch, the rosettes of open-work stucco, the squares of the same material with intricate patterns--great boons in a hot land to let in the air without the sun. There is also another contrivance for obtaining air; in building the house a niche three feet wide is left in the outer wall, closed in on the inner side except for about a foot. It is funny to see the heads of muffled women peering out of these air-shafts, into which they have climbed to get an undisturbed view. Here some of the women wear the Arabian _buttra_ or mask, which, while it hides their features, gives their eyes full play. They are very inquisitive. Some of the women one meets on Bahrein are highly picturesque when you see them without the dark-blue covering. I was fetched to one harem after the other, always followed by a dense crowd, to the apparent annoyance of my hostesses, who, however, seemed powerless to prevent the intrusion. I saw one woman holding on to the top of the door and standing on the shoulders of one who was squatting on the floor. One good lady grew enraged at the invasion, and threw a cup of hot coffee in an intruder's face. In the afternoon we rode over to Mountainous (and, it might be added, ruinous) Rufa'a. It is built on a cliff, 50 feet above the lowest level of the desert; from here there is a view over a wide, bleak expanse of sand, occasionally relieved by an oasis, the result of a well and irrigation, and beyond this the eye rests on Jebel Dukhan, 'the mountain of mist,' which high-sounding name has been given to a mass of rocks in the centre of Bahrein, rising 400 feet above the plain, and often surrounded by a sea-fog; for Bahrein, with its low-lying land, is often in a mist. Some mornings on rising early we looked out of our tent to find ourselves enveloped in a perfect London fog--our clothes were soaking, the sand on the floor of our tent was soft and adhesive; then in an hour the bright orb of heaven would disperse all this, for we were very far south indeed, on the coast of Arabia. Alas! on arrival we found that our young friend Sheikh Mohammed was out, for he had to be in attendance on his uncle, Sheikh Esau, who had just arrived at his tent near our encampment, and he had to provide all his uncle's meals; we saw a donkey with a cauldron on its back large enough to boil a sheep in, large copper trays, and many other articles despatched for the delectation of the sovereign and his retinue. Sheikh Mohammed's mother, quite a queenly-looking woman, was busying herself about the preparation of these things, and when she had finished she invited us to go into the harem. My husband felt the honour and confidence reposed in him exceedingly, but, alas! all the women were veiled; all he could contemplate was their lovely hands and feet dyed yellow with henna, their rich red shirts, their aprons adorned with coins, their gold bracelets and turquoise rings. However I assured him that with one solitary exception he had lost nothing by not seeing their faces. In one corner of the women's room was the biggest bed I ever saw: it had eight posts, a roof, a fence, a gate, and steps up to it; it is a sort of daïs, in fact, where they spread their rugs and sleep, and high enough to lay beds under it too. Occasionally we got a good peep at the women as they were working in the fields, or cutting with semi-circular saws the scrub that grows in the desert for their cattle. Half-way between the two Rufa'as we halted at a well, the great point of concourse for the inhabitants of both villages. It was evening, and around it were gathered crowds of the most enchanting people in every possible costume. Women and donkeys were groaning under the weight of skins filled with water; men were engaged in filling them, but it seems to be against the dignity of a male Arab to carry anything. With the regularity of a steam crane the woodwork of the well creaked and groaned with a sound like a bagpipe, as the donkeys toiled up and down their slope, bringing to the surface the skins of water. It was a truly Arabian sight, with the desert all around us, and the little garden hard by which Sheikh Saba cultivates with infinite toil, having a weary contest with the surrounding sand which invades his enclosure. The sun was getting low when we returned to our bare room at Sheikh Khallet's, and to our great contentment we were left alone, for our day had been a busy one, and a strain on our conversational powers. Our host handed us over to the tender mercies of a black slave, Zamzam by name, wonderfully skilled at cooking with a handful of charcoal on circular stoves coloured red, and bearing a marked resemblance to the altars of the Persian fire-worshippers. He brought us in our dinner: first he spread a large round mat of fine grass on the floor; in the centre of this he deposited a washing basin filled with boiled rice and a bowl of _ghi_ or rancid grease to make it palatable; before us were placed two tough chickens, a bowl of dates, and for drink we had a bowl of milk with delicious fresh butter floating in it. Several sheets of bread about the size and consistency of bath towels were also provided, but no implements of any kind to assist us in conveying these delicacies to our mouths. With pieces of bread we scooped up the rice, with our fingers we managed the rest, and we were glad no one was looking on to witness our struggles save Zamzam with a ewer of water, with which he washed us after the repast was over, and then we put ourselves away for the night. Very early next morning we were on the move for our trip across the island. The journey would be too long for donkeys, they said, so Sheikh Khallet mounted us on three of his best camels, with lovely saddles of inlaid El Hasa work, with two pommels, one in front and one behind, like little pillars, capped and inlaid with silver. We--that is to say my husband and I and the bazaar-master--ambled along at a pretty smart pace across the desert in the direction of a fishing village called Asker, on the east coast of the island, near which were said to exist ancient remains; these, of course, turned out to be myths, but the village was all that could be desired in quaintness; the houses were all of bamboo, and the floors strewn over with little white helix shells; in one of them we were regaled with coffee, and found it delicious after our hot ride; then we strolled along the shore and marvelled at the bamboo skiffs, the curiously-fashioned oars and water casks, the stone anchors, and other primitive implements used by this seafaring race. The bazaar-master would not let us tarry as long as we could have wished, for he was anxious for us to arrive before the midday heat at a rocky cave in the 'mountain of mist,' in the centre of the island. We dismounted from our camels, and proceeded to examine Jebel Dukhan, an escarped mass of limestone rocks with rugged outline and deep caves. From the gentle elevation of the misty mountain one gets a very fair idea of the extent and character of Bahrein. The island has been likened to a sheet of silver in a sea of pearl, but it looked to us anything but silvery, and for all the world like one of the native sheets of bread--oval and tawny. It is said to be twenty-seven miles long and twelve wide at its broadest point. From the clearness of the atmosphere and the distinctness with which we saw the sea all around us, it could not have been much more. There are many tiny villages dotted about here and there, recognisable only by their nest of palm trees and their strips of verdure. In the dim distance, to our left, arose the mountains of Arabia; beyond, the flat coast-line of El Hasa, encircling that wild, mysterious land of Nejd, where the Wahabi dwell--a land forbidden to the infidel globe-trotter. Yet another sheikh of the El Khalifa family was introduced to us, by name Abdullah; he owns the land about here, and having been advised of our coming, had prepared a repast for us, much on the lines of the one we had had the evening before. We much enjoyed our cool rest and repast in Abdullah's cave, and for two hours or more our whole party lay stretched on the ground courting slumber, whilst our camels grazed around. Another sheikh was anxious to take us to his house for the night, but we could not remain, as our work demanded our return to camp that night, so we compromised matters by taking coffee with him on a green oasis near his house, under a blazing sun, without an atom of shade, and without a thing against which to lean our tired backs. Then we hurried back to Rufa'a, to take leave of our friend, Sheikh Khallet, and started off late in the evening for our home. Soon we came in sight of Sheikh Esau's tent; his majesty was evidently expecting us, for by his side in the royal tent were placed two high thrones, formed of camel saddles covered with sheepskins, for us to sit upon, whilst his Arabian majesty and his courtiers sat on the ground. As many as could be accommodated sat round within the walls of the tent. Those for whom there was no room inside continued the line, forming a long loop which extended for some yards outside the tent. Here all his nephews and cousins were assembled. That gay youth Sheikh Mohammed, on ordinary occasions as full of fun as an English schoolboy, sat there in great solemnity, incapable of a smile though I maliciously tried to raise one. When he came next morning to visit us he was equally solemn, until his uncle had left our tent; then his gaiety returned as if by magic, and with it his covetousness for my pistol. Eventually an exchange was effected, he producing a coffee-pot and an inlaid bowl, which had taken our fancy, as the price. On the surrounding desert a small gazelle is abundant. One day we came across a cavalcade of Bahreini sportsmen, who looked exceedingly picturesque in their flowing robes and floating red kaffiehs, and riding gaily caparisoned horses, with crimson trappings and gold tassels. Each had on his arm a hooded falcon and by his side a Persian greyhound. When the gazelle is sighted the falcon is let loose; it skims rapidly along the ground, attacks the head of the animal, and so confuses it that it falls an easy prey to the hounds in pursuit. Albuquerque in his 'Commentaries' says: 'There are many who hunt with falcons about the size of our goshawks, and take by their aid certain creatures smaller than gazelles, training very swift hounds to assist the falcon in catching the prey.' In their ordinary life the Bahrein people still retain the primitiveness of the Bedouin. There are about fifty villages scattered over the islands, recognisable from a distance by their patch of cultivation and groups of date-palms. Except at Manamah and Moharek they have little or nothing to do with the pearl fisheries, but are an exceedingly industrious race of peasants who cultivate the soil by means of irrigation from the numerous wells with which the island is blessed. There are generally three to six small wheels attached to the beam, which is across the well, over which the ropes of as many large leathern buckets pass. When these buckets rise full they tilt themselves over, the contents is then taken by little channels to a reservoir which feeds the dykes, transferred thence to the palms in buckets raised by the leverage of a date-trunk lightly swung by ropes to a frame, and balanced at one end by a basket of earth into which it is inserted; it is so light to lift that women are generally employed in watering the trees. To manure their date-groves they use the fins of a species of ray fish called _awwal_, steeped in water till they are putrid; _awwal_, by the way, was an ancient name of the Island of Bahrein, perhaps because it was the first island of the group in size, _awwal_ in Arabic meaning _first_. The area of fertility is very rich and beautiful; it extends all along the north coast of the island, and the fishing village of Nayim, with its bamboo huts nestling beneath the palm-trees, is highly picturesque; and all this fertility is due to the number of fresh-water springs which burst up here from underground, similar, no doubt, to those before alluded to which spring up in the sea. The Arabs will tell you that these springs come straight from the Euphrates, by an underground channel through which the great river flows beneath the Persian Gulf, doubtless being the same legend alluded to by Pliny when he says, 'Flumen per quod Euphratem emergere putant.' There are many of them--the Garsari well, Um-i-Shaun, Abu Zeidan, and the Adari, which last supplies many miles of date-groves through a canal of ancient workmanship. The Adari well is one of the great sights of Bahrein, being a deep basin of water 22 yards wide by 40 long, beautifully clear, and full of prismatic colours. It is said to come up with such force from underground that a diver is driven back, and all around it are ruins of ancient date, proving that it was prized by former inhabitants as a bath. The water is slightly brackish, as is that of all these sources, so that those who can afford it send for water to a well between Rufa'a Jebeli and Rufa'a Shergeh--called Haneini, which is exceedingly good, and camels laden with skins may be seen coming into Manamah every morning with this treasure. We obtained our water supply thence. The other well, Abu Zeidan, is situated in the midst of the ruins known as Beled-al-Kadim, or 'old town.' Two days later our camp was struck, and our long cavalcade, with Seid-bin-Omar, the bazaar-master, at its head, returned to Manamah. He had ordered for us quite a sumptuous repast at his mansion by the sea, and having learnt our taste for curiosities, he brought us as presents a buckler of camel-skin, his 8-foot-long lance, and a lovely bowl of El Hasa work--that is to say, minute particles of silver inlaid in wonderful patterns in wood. This inlaying is quite a distinctive art of the district of Arabia along the north-eastern coast known as El Hasa; curious old guns, saddles, bowls, and coffee-pots, in fact everything with an artistic tendency, comes from that country. The day following was the great Thursday's Market at Beled-al-Kadim, near the old minarets and the wells. Mounted once more on donkeys, we joined the train of peasants thither bound; I being as usual the object of much criticism, and greatly interfering with the business of the day. One male starer paid for his inquisitiveness, by tumbling over a stall of knick-knacks, and precipitating himself and all the contents to the ground. The minarets and pillars of the old mosques looked down on a strange scene that day. In the half-ruined, domed houses of the departed race, stall-holders had pitched their stalls: lanes and cross lanes of closely-packed vendors of quaint crockery, newly-cut lucerne, onions, fish, and objects of European fabric such as only Orientals admire, and amongst all was a compact mass of struggling humanity; but it was easy to see that the date-palm and its produce formed the staple trade of the place. There were all shapes and sizes of baskets made of palm-leaves, dates in profusion, fuel of the dried spathes, the male spathes for fructifying the palm, and palm-leaf matting--the only furniture, and sometimes the only roofing of their comfortless huts. The costumes were dazzling in their brilliancy and quaintness. It was a scene never to be forgotten, and one of which a photograph, which I took from a gentle eminence, gives but a faint idea. It was our last scene on Bahrein--a fitting conclusion to our sojourn thereon. MASKAT CHAPTER IV SOME HISTORICAL FACTS ABOUT OMAN On two separate occasions we visited Maskat. The first time was in 1889 on our way to Persia, and the second in 1895 when we were starting for Dhofar, on the journey which I shall describe later. On each occasion we had to reach it by way of India, for like all the rest of the Persian Gulf Maskat is really an outlying portion of our Indian Empire. By just crossing a range of mountains in Persia you cross the metaphorical watershed between our India and Foreign Offices. At Shiraz you hesitate between India and England. You ask the question, 'Shall I send my letters _viâ_ Bombay, or _viâ_ Russia?' You hasten to get rid of your rupees, for this is the last place where their merit is recognised. North of Shiraz you are in a distinctly foreign country. Our officials hail from the Foreign Office and belong to the legation of Teheran. You are no longer under British protection, you are in the dominions of the Shah. But so long as you are on the shores of the Gulf you are, so to speak, in India. The officials receive their pay in degenerate rupees instead of pounds sterling, they live in 'bungalows,' they talk of 'tiffin,' and eat curry at every meal. We keep a British ship of war in the Gulf. We feel that it is a matter of the first importance that those countries should remain under our protection, and that the Turks should not build forts at Fao and otherwise interfere with our trade in the Karoun, and that no other power should have a foothold thereon. The last generation talked much about a Euphrates Valley Railway, with its terminus at Koweit; we now hear a great deal about the opening up of the Karoun, but it is the lordship of the Gulf which is the chief matter of importance just at present both for India and for ourselves. In this district Maskat is the most important point; the kingdom of Oman, of which it is nominally the capital, commands the entrance to the Gulf. In the ninth century of the Christian era ships trading from Sherif to China took in water at Maskat from the wells which still supply the town. Between Aden and the Persian Gulf it is the only harbour where ships of any size can find anchorage, and it may, in fact, be said to play much the same part with respect to the Persian Gulf that Aden does to the Red Sea. In many other ways the places are strikingly similar. They are both constructed on arid, volcanic rocks, which produce the smallest amount of verdure and reflect the greatest amount of heat; water in both of them is the scarcest of commodities. Of all places in the world Maskat has the reputation of being the hottest, facing, as it does, the Indian Ocean, and protected from every cooling breeze by rugged volcanic hills, without a blade of cultivation upon them, and which reflect and intensify the scorching rays of the burning sun. Aden is said to have but a piece of brown paper between it and the infernal fires. Maskat would seem to want even this meagre protection, and 'gives,' as a Persian poet has expressed it, 'to the panting sinner a lively anticipation of his future destiny.' The approach to the cove of Maskat is highly striking. Many-coloured volcanic rocks of fantastic form protect the horseshoe-shaped harbour, whilst behind the white town, as far as the eye can reach, stretch deeply serrated, arid mountains, which culminate in the heights of Jebel Akhdar, or the 'Green Mountains,' some fifty miles, as the crow flies, inland, reaching an elevation of 9,000 feet. We were told that snow sometimes falls in the winter-time on Jebel Akhdar, and it rejoices in a certain amount of verdure, from which it derives its name. This range forms the backbone of Oman, and at its foot lie Nezweh and Rostok, the old capitals of the long line of imams of Oman, before Maskat was a place of so much importance as it is at present. The streams which come down from these mountains nowhere reach the sea, but are lost in the deserts, and, nevertheless, in some places they fertilise oases in the Omani desert, where the vegetation is most luxuriant and fever very rife. Grapes grow on the slopes of Jebel Akhdar, and the inhabitants, despite the strictures of Mohammed, both make and drink wine of them, and report says (how far it is true I know not) that the Portuguese exported thence the vines to which they gave the name of muscatel. The inhabitants of this wild range are chiefly Bedou and pastoral, and it is from this quarter that the troubles which beset the poor sultan, Feysul, generally emanate. The harbour of Maskat is full of life. The deep blue sea is studded with tiny craft: canoes painted red, green, and white, steered by paddles, swarm around the steamer; fishermen paddling themselves about on a plank or two tied together, or swimming astride of a single one, hawk their wares from boat to boat. The oars of the larger boats are generally made with a flat circular piece of wood fastened on to a long pole, and are really more like paddles than oars. In the northern corner lie huddled together large dhows, which, during the north-east monsoons, make the journey to Zanzibar, returning at the change of the season. Most of these belong to Banyan merchants in Maskat, and are manned by Indian sailors. Close to them is the small steamer _Sultanieh_, which was presented by the Sultan of Zanzibar to his cousin Sultan Tourki of Maskat, now a perfectly useless craft, which cannot even venture outside the harbour by reason of the holes in its side. From its mast floats the red banner of Oman, the same flag that Arab boats at Aden fly. It was originally the banner of Yemen, to which place the Arabs who rule in Oman trace their origin; for early in our era, according to Arab tradition, Oman was colonised and taken possession of by descendants of the old Himyarites of Yemen. The shore of the town is very unpleasant, reeking with smells, and at low tide lined with all the refuse and offal of the place. At high tide shoals of fish come in to feed on this refuse, and in their train follow immense flocks of seagulls, which make the edge of the water quite white as they fly along and dive after their prey. Here and there out of the sand peep the barrels of some rusty old cannon, ghostly relics of the Portuguese occupation. In the middle of the beach is the sultan's palace, but it is immeasurably inferior to the new residency of the British political agent, which stands at the southern extremity of the town, just where it can get all the breeze that is to be had through a gap in the rocks opening to the south; here we were most hospitably entertained by Colonel Hayes Sadler on our second sojourn. Even in this favoured position the heat in summer is almost unendurable, making Maskat one of the least coveted posts that the Indian Government has at its disposal. The cliffs immediately round the town are of a shiny schist, almost impossible to walk upon, and reflect the rays of the sun with great intensity. On either side of the town stand two old Portuguese forts kept up and manned by the sultan's soldiers; in them are still to be seen old rusty pieces of ordnance, one of which bears a Portuguese inscription with the date 1606, and the name and arms of Philip III. of Spain; also the small Portuguese chapel in the fort is preserved and bears the date of 1588. These are the principal legacies left to posterity by those intrepid pioneers of civilisation in a spot which they occupied for nearly a century and a half. These forts testify to having been of great size and strength in former times, and show considerable architectural features, and the traces of a luxuriant and opulent population. With regard to the ancient history of Oman, there is little known. The empire of the Himyarites, which filled Yemen and the Hadhramout valley with interesting remains, does not appear to have extended its sway so far eastward; no Sabæan remains have as yet been found in Oman, nor are there any that I have heard of further east than the frankincense country of Dhofar, over six hundred miles west of Maskat. Neither Ptolemy nor the author of the 'Periplus' gives us any definite information about the existence of a town in the harbour of Maskat, and consequently the first reliable information we have to go upon is from the early Arabian geographers. From Torisi we learn that Sobar was the most ancient town of Oman; but that in his day Maskat was flourishing, and that 'in old times the China ships used to sail from there.' Oman was included in Yemen by these earlier geographers, doubtless from the fact that Arabs from Yemen were its first colonisers; but all that is known with any certainty is that, from the ninth century a.d. a long line of imams ruled over Oman, with their capitals at Nezweh or Rostok, at the foot of Jebel Akhdar. This title, by which the Arab rulers were known, had been conferred on the Arab rulers of Oman for centuries, and signifies a sort of priest-king, like Melchisedek, to whom, curiously enough, is given the same title in the Koran. The election was always by popular acclamation, and inasmuch as the Omani do not recognise the two 'imams' who immediately succeeded Mohammed, but chose their own, they form a separate sect. In olden days the men of Oman were called 'outsiders' by their Mohammedan brethren, because they recognised their own chief solely as the head of their own religion, and are known otherwise as the Ibadiet or Ibadhuyah, followers of Abdullah-bin-Ibadh, as distinct from the Shiahi (Shiites) and Sunni, between which sects the rest of Islam is pretty equally divided. Internecine wars were always rife amongst them; but, at the same time, these early Omani had little or no intercourse with the outer world. Of the internal quarrels of the country, the Omani historian Salid-bin-Ragik has given a detailed account, but for the rest of the world they are of little interest. In those days Oman seems to have had two ports, Sur and Kalhat, on the Indian Ocean, which were more frequented than Maskat. Marco Polo, 1280 a.d., calls the second Calaiati in his 'Journal,' and describes it as 'a large city in a gulf called, also, Calatu,' and the Omani paid tribute to the melek or king of Hormuz for many generations, but with the rise of Maskat, Sur and Kalhat declined. Oman first came into immediate contact with Europeans in the year 1506, when Albuquerque appeared in Maskat harbour bent on his conquest of the Persian Gulf, and with the object, not even yet accomplished, of making a route to India by way of the Euphrates valley. From Albuquerque's 'Commentaries' we get a graphic description of the condition of the country when he reached it. At first the Arabs were inclined to receive the Portuguese without a struggle; but, taking courage from the presence of a large army of Bedouin in the vicinity, they soon showed treacherous intentions towards the invaders, so that the Portuguese admiral determined to attack the town and destroy it, and the commentator states that 'within were burned many provisions, thirty-four ships in all, large and small, many fishing barks, and an arsenal full of every requisite for ship-building.' After effecting a landing, the Portuguese ordered 'three gunners with axes to cut the supports of the mosque, which was a large and very beautiful edifice, the greater part being built of timber finely carved, and the upper part of stucco,' and it was accounted a propitious miracle by the Portuguese that the men who performed this deed were not killed by the falling timber. Maskat was then burnt and utterly destroyed; and 'having cut off the ears and noses of the prisoners he liberated them.' The commentator concludes his remarks on Maskat as follows: 'Maskat is of old a market for carriage of horses and dates; it is a very elegant town, with very fine houses. It is the principal _entrepôt_ of the kingdom of Ormuz, into which all the ships that navigate these parts must of necessity enter.' The hundred and forty years during which the Portuguese occupied Maskat and the adjacent coast town was a period of perpetual trouble and insurrection. The factory and forts of Jellali and Merani were commenced in 1527, but the forts in their present condition were not erected till after the union of Portugal and Spain, in 1580; the order for their erection came from Madrid, and the inscription bears the date 1588. Not only were the Arabs constantly on the look-out to dislodge their unwelcome visitors, but the Turks attacked them likewise, with a navy from the side of the Persian Gulf, and the naval victory gained by the Portuguese off Maskat in 1554 is considered by Turkish historians to have been a greater blow to their power than the better known battle off Prevesa in 1538, when D'Oria defeated Barbarossa and obliged Solyman to relinquish his attempt on Vienna. When, after the union of Portugal with Spain, the colonial activity of the former country declined, the colonies in the Persian Gulf fell one by one into the hand of the Persians and Arabs. Out of the kingdom of Oman they were driven in 1620, and confined to the town of Maskat by the victorious imam, Nasir-bin-Murshid, during whose reign of twenty-six years the legend is told that no man in Oman died a natural death. Two years later they were also driven from Maskat itself, and those two forts Jellali and Merani which they had built, the last foothold of the Portuguese on the Omani territory, were taken from them. The historian Salil tells the amusing story of the final fall of Maskat into the hands of the Arabs. The Portuguese governor, Pereira, was deeply enamoured of the daughter of a Banyan merchant of Maskat; the man at first refused to let him have his daughter, but at length consented, on condition that the wedding did not take place for some months. Pereira was now entirely in the hands of the Banyan and did everything he told him; so the crafty Indian communicated with the Arabs outside Portuguese territory, telling them to be ready when due notice was given to attack the town. He then proceeded to persuade Pereira to clean out the water tanks of the fort, and to clear out the old supplies of food preparatory to revictualling them; then, when the forts were without food and water, and finally having damped all the powder, he gave notice to the Arabs, who attacked and took the town on a Sunday evening, when the Portuguese were carousing. Captain Hamilton gives another account in his travels,[7] and tells us that the Arabs were exasperated by a piece of pork, wrapped up in paper, being sent as a present to the imam by the governor, Pereira, and he also adds that the Portuguese were all put to the sword, save eighteen, who embraced Mohammedanism; and that the Portuguese cathedral was made the imam's palace, where he took up his residence for a month or two every year. Since those days these two forts have been regularly used by rival claimants to the sovereignty of Oman as convenient points of vantage from which to pepper one another, to the infinite discomfiture of the inhabitants beneath. The departure of the Portuguese did not greatly benefit the Omani. Writing in 1624 to the East India Company, Thomas Kerridge speaks of Maskat as 'a beggarly, poor town,' and 'Ormusz,' he says, 'is become a heap of ruins.' At last, in 1737, owing to the jealousies of the rival imams, Seid and Ibn Murshad, Maskat was taken by the Persians. They were, however, soon driven out again by Ahmed-bin-Sayid, or Saoud, a man of humble origin but a successful general; as a reward for his services he was elected imam in 1741, and was the founder of the dynasty which still rules there. The successors of Ahmed-bin-Sayid found the obligations of being imam, and the oath which it entailed to fight against the infidel, both awkward and irksome, so his grandson, Saoud, who succeeded in 1779, never assumed the title of imam, but was content with that of sultan, and consequently the imamate of Oman has, with one short exception, been in abeyance ever since. Under the first rulers of this dynasty Oman became a state of considerable importance. During the reigns of Sultan Saoud and his son Sultan Saoud Sayid, a large part of the Arabian mainland was under the rule of Oman, as also Bahrein, Hormuz, Larij, Kishm, Bandar Abbas, many islands and their pearl fisheries, and Linga, also a good part of the coast of Africa; and it was they who established the alliances with England and the United States. The first political relations between the East India Company and the ruler of Oman took place in 1798, the object being to secure the alliance of Oman against the Dutch and French. A second treaty was made two years later, and it was provided in it that 'an English gentleman of respectability on the part of the Honourable East India Company, should always reside at the port of Maskat.' An English gentleman of respectability has consequently resided there ever since, and from the days of Sultan Sayid has become the chief factor in the government of the place. Sultan Sayid-bin-Sayid stands out prominently as the great ruler of Oman, and under his rule Oman and its capital, Maskat, reached the greatest pitch of eminence to be found in all its annals. He ascended the throne in 1804, and reigned for fifty-two years. He found his country in dire distress at the time of his accession, owing to the attacks of the fanatical Wahabi from Central Arabia, who had carried their victorious arms right down to Maskat, and had imposed their bigoted rules and religious regulations on the otherwise liberal-minded Mohammedans of Eastern Arabia. With Turkish aid on the one hand, and British support on the other, Sultan Sayid succeeded in relieving his country from these terrible scourges, and drove them back into the central province of Nejd, from which they had carried their bloodthirsty and fanatical wars over nearly the whole of the peninsula, and, when all fear from the Wahabi was over, Sultan Sayid extended his conquests in all directions. He occupied several points on the Persian Gulf and the opposite coast of Beluchistan, and materially assisted the Indian Government in putting down the piracy which had for long closed the Gulf to all trade; and finally, in 1856, he added the important Arab settlement of Mombasa and Zanzibar, on the African coast, to his dominion. During this long reign Maskat prospered exceedingly. It was the great trade centre for the Persian Gulf, inasmuch as it was a safe depôt, where merchants could deposit their goods without fear of piracy; vessels going to and from India before the introduction of steam used frequently to stop at Maskat for water. As a trade centre in those days it was almost as important as Aden, and with the Indian Government Sultan Sayid was always on most friendly terms. When Sultan Sayid died, the usual dispute took place between his successors. England promptly stepped in to settle this dispute, and, with the foresight she so admirably displays on such occasions, she advocated a division of Sayid's empire. Zanzibar was given to one claimant, Oman to the other, and for the future Oman and Sultan Tourki remained under British protection. Since the death of Sultan Sayid the power of Oman has most lamentably gone down, partly owing to the very success of his attempts to put down piracy; this, followed by the introduction of steam, has diminished the importance of Maskat as a safe port for the merchants to deposit their wares. It is also partly due to the jealousies which prevail between the descendants of Sayid who rule in Zanzibar and in Maskat. Palgrave in 1863 describes Maskat as having 40,000 inhabitants; there are probably half that number now. The Sultan of Zanzibar has to pay an annual tribute of 40,000 crowns to his relative of Maskat in order to equalise the inheritance, and this tribute being a constant source of trouble, of late years he has taken to urging the wild Bedouin tribes in Oman to revolt against the present, rather weak-minded sultan who reigns there. He supplies them with the sinews of war, namely money and ammunition, and the insurrection which occurred in February 1895 was chiefly due to this motive power. One of his sisters married a German, the English conniving at her escape from Zanzibar in a gunboat. On her husband's death, her elder brother having in the meantime also died, she returned to Zanzibar thinking her next brother, the present sultan, to be of a milder disposition, but he refused to take any notice of her and her children. The present ruler of Maskat, Sultan Feysul, is a grandson of Sultan Sayid and son of Sultan Tourki by an Abyssinian mother. Since his accession, in 1889, he has been vacillating in his policy; he has practically had but little authority outside the walls of Maskat, and were it not for the support of the British Government and the proximity of a gunboat, he would long ago have ceased to rule. When we first saw him, in 1889, he was but a beardless boy, timid and shy, and now he has reached man's estate he still retains the nervous manner of his youth. He lives in perpetual dread of his elder brother Mahmoud, who, being the son of a negress, was not considered a suitable person to inherit the throne. The two brothers, though living in adjacent houses, never meet without their own escorts to protect them from each other. The way in which Feysul obtained possession of the Sultan's palace on his father's death, to the exclusion of his brother, is curious. Feysul said his grief for his father was so great that his feelings would not admit of his attending the funeral, so he stayed at home while Mahmoud went, who on his return found the door locked in his face. The palace is entered by a formidable-looking door, decorated with large spiked bosses of brass. This opens into a small court which contained at the time of our first visit the most imposing sight of the place, namely the lion in his cage to the left, into which Feysul was in the habit of introducing criminals of the deepest dye, to be devoured by this lordly executioner. Opposite to this cage of death is another, a low probationary cage, which, when we were there, contained a prisoner stretched out at full length, for the cage is too low to admit of a sitting posture. From this point he could view the horrors of the lion's cage, so that during his incarceration he might contemplate what might happen to him if he continued, on liberation, to pursue his evil ways. Another door leads into a vaulted passage full of guards, through which we passed and entered into an inner court with a pool in the centre and a wide cloister around it supporting a gallery. Sultan Feysul was then a very young man, not much over twenty. He was greatly interested in seeing us, for we were the first English travellers who had visited him since his accession. We caught sight of him peeping at us over the balcony as we passed through the courtyard below, and we had to clamber up a ladder to the gallery, where we found him ready to welcome us. He seized our hands and shook them warmly, and then led us with much effusiveness to his _khawah_, a long room just overhanging the sea, which is his reception and throne-room. Here were high, cane-bottomed chairs around the walls, and at one end a red chair, which is the throne; just over it were hung two grotesque pictures of our Queen and the Prince Consort, such as one could buy for a penny at a fair. They are looked upon as objects of great value here, and act as befitting symbols of our protectorate. The imam fed us with sweets and coffee, asked us innumerable questions, and seemed full of boyish fun. Certainly with his turban of blue and red checked cotton (which would have been a housemaid's duster at home), his faded, greenish yellow cloak, fastened round his slender frame by a red girdle, he looked anything but a king. As we were preparing to depart the young monarch grew apparently very uneasy, and impatiently shouted something to his attendants, and when the servant came in, Feysul hurried to him, seized four little gilt bottles of attar of roses, thrust two of them into each of our pockets, and with some compliments as to our Queen having eyes everywhere, and Feysul's certainty that she would look after him, the audience was at an end. Sultan Feysul was a complete autocrat as far as his jurisdiction extended. At his command a criminal could be executed either in the lion's cage or in a little square by the sea, and his body cut up and thrown into the waves. The only check upon him was the British Resident. His father, Tourki, not long before sewed up a woman in a sack and drowned her, whereupon a polite message came from the Residency requesting him not to do such things again. Hence young Feysul dared not be very cruel--to offend the English would have been to lose his position. His half brother, Mahmoud, whose mother was a Swahili, lives next door to his brother, Sultan Feysul, in the enjoyment of a pension of 600 dollars a mouth. The uncles, however, are not so amenable. The eldest of them, according to Arabian custom, claimed the throne and had collected an army amongst the Bedouin to assert his claims, and was then in possession of all the country, with the exception of Maskat and El Matra, for Feysul had no money, and hence he could not get his soldiers to fight. But then it had been intimated to Feysul that in all probability the English would support his claims if he conducted himself prudently and wisely. So there was every likelihood that in due course he would be thoroughly established in the dominions of his father. When we visited the town for the second time an even more serious rebellion was impending, the Bedouin of the interior, under Sheikh Saleh, having attacked Maskat itself. The sultan and his brother, who hastily became friends, retired together to the castle, and the town was given up to plunder. There were dead bodies lying on the beach, and but for the kindness of Colonel Hayes Sadler, the British Resident, there would have been difficulties in the fort as regards water. They relied principally on H.M.S. _Sphinx_, which lay in the harbour to protect British interests, and to maintain Sultan Feysul in his position. This state of terror lasted three weeks, when the rebels, having looted the bazaars and wrecked the town, were eventually persuaded to retire, free and unpunished, with a considerable cash payment; probably intending to return for more when the cooler weather should come, and the date harvest be over. With the consent of, and at the request of, the Indian Government, Sultan Feysul has imposed additional heavy duty on all the produce coming in from the rebel tribes, that he may have a fund from which to pay indemnities to foreigners who suffered loss during the invasion. A good many Banyan merchants, British subjects, suffered losses, and their claim alone amounted to 120,000 rupees. As a natural result of this disaster and its ignominious termination, Sultan Feysul's authority at the present moment is absolutely _nil_ outside the walls of Maskat and El Matra, and he is still in a state of declared war with all the Bedouin chiefs in the mountains behind Maskat. A few British subjects were scared, but not killed, and as all was over in a few weeks no one thought much more about it except those more immediately interested, and few paused to think what an important part Maskat has played in the opening up of the Persian Gulf and the suppression of piracy, and what an important part it may yet play should the lordship of the Persian Gulf ever become a _casus belli_. Although Maskat has been under Indian influence for most of this century, it has latterly gone down much in the world; the trade of the place has well-nigh departed, and with a weak sultan at the head of affairs, confidence will be long in returning. Unquestionably our own Political Agent may be said to be the ruler in Maskat, and his authority is generally backed up by the presence of a gunboat. There is also an American Consul there, who chiefly occupies himself in trade and steamer agencies, and in 1895 the French also sent a Consul to inquire into the question of the slave trade, which is undoubtedly the burning question in Arabia. Whilst England has been doing all she can to put slavery down, it is complained that much is carried on under cover of the French flag, obtained by Arab dhows under false pretexts from the French Consul resident in Zanzibar. Sultan Feysul remonstrated with France on this point, and the appointment of a Consul is the result. The great reason for our unpopularity in Arabia is due without doubt to our suppression of this trade. Slavery is inherent in the Arab; he does as little work as he can himself, and if he is to have no slaves nothing will be done, and he must die. In other parts of South Arabia--Yemen, the Hadhramout, the Mahra country, and Dhofar--slavery is universal; and there is no doubt about it the slaves are treated very well and live happy lives; but here in Oman, under the very eye of India, slavery must be checked. Our gunboat, the _Sphinx_, goes the round of the coast to prevent this traffic in human flesh, and frequently slaves swim out to the British steamer and obtain their liberty. This naturally makes us very unpopular in Sur, where the Jenefa tribe have their head-quarters, the most inveterate slave-traders of Southern Arabia. The natural result is that whenever they get a chance the Jenefa tribe loot any foreign vessel wrecked on their shores and murder the crew. In the summer of 1894, however, a boat was wrecked near Ghubet-el-Hashish, containing some creoles from the Seychelle Islands, after being driven for forty-five days out of their course by south-east monsoons, during which time three or four of them had died. The survivors were much exhausted, but the Bedouin treated them kindly, for a wonder, and brought them safely to Maskat. For doing this they were handsomely rewarded by the Indian Government, though they had kept possession of the boat and its contents; nevertheless, they had saved the lives of the crew, and this, being a step in the right direction, was thought worthy of reward. The jealousies, however, of other tribes were so great that the rescuers could not return to their own country by the land route, but had to be sent to Sur by sea. Feysul has had copper coins of his own struck, of the value of a quarter anna. On the obverse is a picture of Maskat and its forts, around which in English runs the legend, 'Sultan Feysul-bin-Tourki Sultan and Imam of Maskat and Oman,' and on the reverse is the Arab equivalent. He has also introduced an ice-factory, which, however, is now closed, and he wished to have his own stamps, principally with a view to making money out of them; but our agent represented to him that it was beneath the dignity of so great a sultan to make money in so mean a way, and the stamps have never appeared. Sultan Feysul had done much in the last few years, since our first visit, to modernise his palace. British influence has abolished many horrors and cruelties, and the lion having died has not been replaced. For the Indian Government the question of Maskat is by no means pleasant, for, should any other Power choose to interfere and establish an influence there, it would materially affect the influence which we have established in the Persian Gulf. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 7: Pinkerton, vol. viii.] CHAPTER V MASKAT AND THE OUTSKIRTS I never saw a place so void of architectural features as the town of Maskat itself. The mosques have neither domes nor minarets--a sign of the rigid Wahabi influence which swept over Arabia. This sect refuse to have any feature about their buildings, or ritual which was not actually enjoined by Mohammed in his Koran. There are a few carved lintels and doorways, and the bazaars are quaintly pretty, but beyond this the only architectural features are Portuguese. All traces of the Portuguese rule are fast disappearing, and each new revolution adds a little more to their destruction. Three walls of the huge old cathedral still stand, a window or two with lattice-work carving after the fashion of the country are still left, but the interior is now a stable for the sultan's horses, and the walls are rapidly crumbling away. The interior of Maskat is particularly gloomy: the bazaars are narrow and dirty, and roofed over with palm matting; they offer but little of interest, and if you are fond of the Arabian sweetmeat called _halwa_, it is just as well not to watch it being made there, for niggers' feet are usually employed to stir it, and the knowledge of this is apt to spoil the flavour. Most of the town is now in ruins. Fifty years ago the population must have been nearly three times greater than it is now. There is also wanting in the town the feature which makes most Moslem towns picturesque, namely the minaret; the mosques of the Ibadhuyah sect being squalid and uninteresting. At first it is difficult to distinguish them from the courtyard of an ordinary house, but by degrees the eye gets trained to identify a mosque by the tiny substitute for a minaret attached to each, a sort of bell-shaped cone about four feet high, which is placed above the corner of the enclosing wall. I have already mentioned the Ibadhuyah's views with regard to the imams. I believe they hold also certain heterodox opinions with regard to predestination and free will, which detach them from other Moslem communities; at any rate they are far more tolerant than other Arabian followers of the Prophet, and permit strangers to enter their mosques at will. Tobacco is freely used by them, and amongst the upper classes scepticism is rife. The devout followers of Mohammed look upon them much as Roman Catholics look on Protestants, and their position is similar in many respects. As elsewhere in Arabia, coffee is largely consumed in Oman, and no business is ever transacted without it; it is always served in large, copper coffee-pots, of the quaint shape which they use in Bahrein. Some of these coffee-pots are very large. An important sheikh, or the mollah of a mosque, whose guests are many, will have coffee-pots two or three feet in height, whereas those for private use are quite tiny, but the bird-like form of the pot is always scrupulously preserved. The bazaars of Oman do not offer much to the curio-hunter. He may perchance find a few of the curved Omani daggers with handsome sheaths adorned with filigree silver, to which is usually attached, by a leather thong, a thorn extractor, an earpick, and a spike. The belting, too, with which these daggers are attached to the body, is very pretty and quite a specialty of the place; formerly many gold daggers were manufactured at Maskat and sent to Zanzibar, but of late years the demand for these has considerably diminished. The iron locks in the bazaars are very curious and old-fashioned, with huge iron keys which push out the wards, and are made like the teeth of a comb. These locks are exceedingly cumbersome, and seem to me to be a development of the wooden locks with wooden wards found in the interior of Arabia. Some of them are over a foot long. I have seen a householder after trying to hammer the key in with a stone, at last in despair climb over his own garden wall. Perchance a shark-skin or wooden buckler may be picked up from a Bedou from the mountains, and there are chances of obtaining the products of many nationalities, for Maskat, like Aden, is one of the most cosmopolitan cities of the East. Here, as in El Matra, you find Banyans from India, Beluchi from the Mekran coast, negroes from Zanzibar, Bedouin, Persians from the Gulf, and the town itself is even less Arab than Aden. The ex-prime minister's house, which occupies a prominent position in the principal street, is somewhat more Oriental in character than most, and possesses a charmingly carved, projecting window, which gladdens the eye; and here and there in the intricacies of the town one comes across a carved door or a carved window, but they are now few and far between. The suburbs of Maskat are especially interesting. As soon as you issue out of either of the two gates which are constructed in the wall, shutting the town off from the outer world, you plunge at once into a new and varied life. Here is the fish and provision market, built of bamboos, picturesque, but reeking with horrible smells and alive with flies; hard by is a stagnant pool into which is cast all the offal and filth of this disgusting market. The water in the pool looks quite putrid, and when the wind comes from this quarter no wonder it is laden with fever germs and mephitic vapours. Consequently, Maskat is a most unhealthy place, especially when the atmosphere is damp and rain has fallen to stir up the refuse. The women with their mask-veils called _buttra_, not unlike the masks worn with a domino, pleased us immensely, so that we sought to possess a specimen. They brought us several, which, however, did not quite satisfy us, and afterwards we learnt that an enterprising German firm had made a lot of these _buttra_ for sale amongst the Maskat women; but the shape being not exactly orthodox, the women will not buy them, so the owners of these unsaleable articles are anxious to sell them cheap to any unsuspecting traveller who may be passing through. Outside the walls the sultan is in the habit of distributing two meals a day to the indigent poor; and inasmuch as the Omani are by nature prone to laziness, there is but little doubt that his highness's liberality is greatly imposed on. In the market outside the walls we lingered until nearly driven wild by the flies and the stench, so we were glad enough to escape and pursue our walk to the Paradise valley and see the favourable side of Maskat. There the sleepy noise of the wells, the shade of the acacias and palms, and the bright green of the lucerne fields, refreshed us, and we felt it hard to realise that we were in arid Arabia. As you emerge you come across a series of villages built of reeds and palm branches, and inhabited by members of the numerous nationalities who come to Maskat in search of a livelihood. Most of these are Beluchi from the Mekran coast, and Africans from the neighbourhood of Zanzibar. The general appearance of these villages is highly picturesque, but squalid. Here and there palm-trees, almond-trees, and the ubiquitous camelthorn are seen interspersed amongst the houses; women in red and yellow garments, with turquoise rings in their ears and noses, peep at you furtively from behind their flimsy doors, and as you proceed up the valley you find several towers constructed to protect the gardens from Bedouin incursions, and a few comfortable little villas built by Banyan merchants, where they can retire from the heat and dust of Maskat. The gardens are all cultivated, with irrigation, and look surprisingly green and delicious in contrast with the barren, arid rocks which surround them; the wells are dug deep in the centre of the valley, in the bed of what elsewhere would be a river, and are worked by a running slope and bullocks who draw up and down skin buckets, which, like those in Bahrein, empty themselves automatically into tanks connected with the channels which convey the water to the gardens. After walking for a mile or two up this valley all traces of life and cultivation cease, and amidst the volcanic rocks and boulders hardly a trace of vegetable life is to be seen. It is a veritable valley of desolation, and there are many such in waterless Arabia. By ascending paths to the right or to the left of the valley, the pedestrian may reach some exquisite points of view; all the little _cols_ or passes through which these paths lead are protected at the summit by walls and forts--not strong enough, however, as recent events have shown, to keep off the incursions of the Bedouin. The views over Maskat and the sea are charming, but one view to the south will be for ever impressed on my mind as one of the most striking panoramas I have ever seen. When the summit of a little pass on the south side of the valley is reached after a walk of about two miles, you look down through a gateway over the small valley and fishing village of Sedad, amongst the reed houses of which are many palm-trees and a thick palm garden belonging to Sayid Yussuf, which gives the one thing wanting to views about Maskat, namely, a mass of green to relieve the eye. A deep inlet of the sea runs up here with its blue waters, and beyond stretch into illimitable space the fantastic peaks of the Oman mountains, taking every form and shape imaginable; these are all rich purples and blues, and the colouring of this view is superb. From Sedad one can take a boat and row round the headlands back to Maskat. The promontories to the open sea are very fine: beetling cliffs of black, red, and green volcanic rocks, and here and there stand up rocky islets, the home of the cormorant and the bittern. In a small cove, called Sheikh Jabar, half-way between Sedad and Maskat, and accessible only by boat (for none but the most active of the natives can scale the overhanging rocks), is a tiny strand which has been chosen as the Christian burial-place. There are not very many graves in this weird spot, and most of them are occupied by men from the gunboats which have been stationed at Maskat. Among them is the grave of Bishop French, who came to Maskat some years ago with the object of doing missionary work amongst the Omani, but he fell a sacrifice to the pernicious climate before he had been long at his post, and before he had succeeded in making any converts. About three miles from Maskat lies the town of El Matra, the commercial centre of the kingdom of Oman. It would be the seat of government also were it not exposed to the southern winds. The journey is nearly always made by sea; it takes much longer to go by land, for a ridge of hills has to be crossed. In a canoe it is only half an hour's paddle, and when the weather is favourable the canoe owners drive a rattling trade. The canoes, which they call _houris_, are hollowed out of a tree trunk, double-prowed, and with matting at the bottom. They are not very stable and make one think unpleasantly of sharks. You pass the Fahl, or Stallion Rock, in the harbour, a name constantly given by Arabs to anything large and uncanny looking, and turning sharp round a rocky corner you see before you El Matra. The town is governed by a _wali_ chosen by the imam, and in the bazaars may be seen, in hopeless confusion, Banyans from India, Omani, Bedouin, Persians and Jews. These nationalities have each their separate wards for living in, walled off to keep them from perpetual brawls, and they only meet one another in the bazaars, where the eye of the bazaar-master is upon them, ready to inflict condign punishment on disturbers of the peace, in which cases the innocent more frequently suffer than the guilty. The Monday's market is filled with quaint countryfolk, bringing in baskets of fruit and wearing the upper garment of red cotton and the large white girdle and turban. At El Matra live most of the richest merchants, and it is the point from which all the caravan roads into the interior start; it, too, has a Portuguese castle, and presents a much more alluring frontage than Maskat. In a nice-looking house by the shore dwelt Dr. Jayakar, an Indian doctor, who had lived for twenty-five years at Maskat, combining the post of British Vice-Consul with that of medical adviser to the few Europeans who dwell there. He said he preferred Maskat to any other place in the world, and hoped to end his days there; he was a great naturalist, and his house was filled with curious animals from the interior, and marvels from the deep. He showed us specimens of a rabbit-like animal which the Arabs call 'whabba,' and which he affirmed is the coney of the Bible, and of the oryx, which lives up on the Jebel Akhdar; it has two straight horns which for one instant and from one point of view when it is running sideways look like one, and some say the fact gave rise to the mythical unicorn. It is, to say the least of it, a great disadvantage to have your medical man at El Matra when you are ill at Maskat; if the weather is stormy boats cannot go between the two places. There is a troublesome road across the headland by which the doctor can come, partly by water and partly on foot, in case of dire necessity, but the caravan road, entirely by land, goes a long way inland, and would take the medical man all day to traverse. Behind El Matra are pleasant gardens, watered by irrigation, which produce most of the fruit and vegetables consumed in these parts. During our fortnight's stay at Maskat in 1895, we frequently in the evening coolness rowed about the harbour and examined its bays and promontories. The energetic crews of numerous gunboats of various nationalities stationed here at different times have beguiled their time by illuminating the bare cliffs with the names of their ships in large letters done in white paint. French, Russian, Italian, and German names are here to be read, but by far the largest number are in English. The rocks at the mouth of the harbour are literally covered with delicious oysters, and one of our entertainments was at low tide to land on these rocks and get our boatmen to detach as many of the shellfish as we could conveniently consume. Such is Maskat as it exists to-day, a spot which has had a varied history in the past, and the future of which will be equally interesting to those who have any connection with the Persian Gulf. [Illustration: MAP OF HADRAMUT. Surveyed by Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur. to illustrate the explorations of M^r. J. THEODORE BENT. _Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_ London: Smith, Elder & Co.] THE HADHRAMOUT CHAPTER VI MAKALLA After our journeys in South Africa and Abyssinia, it was suggested to my husband that a survey of the Hadhramout by an independent traveller would be useful to the Government; so in the winter of 1893-94 we determined to do our best to penetrate into this unknown district, which anciently was the centre of the frankincense and myrrh trade, one of the most famed commercial centres of 'Araby the Blest,' before Mohammedan fanaticism blighted all industries and closed the peninsula to the outer world. In the proper acceptation of the term, the Hadhramout at the present time is not a district running along the south-east coast of Arabia between the sea and the central desert, as is generally supposed, but it is simply a broad valley running for 100 miles or more parallel to the coast, by which the valleys of the high Arabian table-land discharge their not abundant supply of water into the sea at Saihut, towards which place this valley gradually slopes. There is every reason to believe that anciently, too, the Hadhramout meant only this valley; we learnt from Himyaritic inscriptions that five centuries b.c. the name was spelt by the Himyars as it is now (namely, t m r d h [Symbol: script]), and meant in that tongue 'the enclosure or valley of death,' a name which in Hebrew form corresponds exactly to that of Hazarmaveth of the tenth chapter of Genesis, and which the Greeks, in their usual slipshod manner--occasioned by their inability, as is the case still, to pronounce a pure _h_--converted into _Chatramitæ_, a form which still survives in the Italian word _catrame_, or 'pitch.' Owing to the intense fanaticism of the inhabitants, this main valley has been reached only by one European before ourselves--namely, Herr Leo Hirsch, in 1893. In 1846 Von Wrede made a bold attempt to reach it, but only got as far as the collateral valley of Doan. My husband and I were the first to attempt (in the latter part of 1893 and the early part of 1894) this journey without any disguise, and with a considerable train of followers, and I think, for this very reason, that we went openly, we made more impression on the natives, and were able to remain there longer and see more, than might otherwise have been the case, and to establish relations with the inhabitants which, I hope, will hereafter lead to very satisfactory results. Having arrived at Aden with letters of recommendation to the Resident from the Indian Government and the India Office, besides private introductions, we were amazed at all the difficulties thrown in our way. It quite appeared as if we had left our native land to do some evil deed to its detriment, and we were made to feel how thoroughly degrading it is to take up the vocation of an archæologist and explorer. Many strange and unexpected things befell us, but the most remarkable of all was that when a certain surgeon-captain asked for leave to accompany us, it was refused to him on the ground that 'Mr. Theodore Bent's expedition was not sanctioned by Government,' in spite of the fact that the Indian Government had actually placed at my husband's disposal a surveyor, Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur. We had no assistance beyond two very inferior letters to the sultans of Makalla and Sheher, which made them think we were 'people of the rank of merchants,' they afterwards said. Imam Sharif has travelled much with Englishmen, so he speaks our language perfectly, and having a keen sense of humour, plenty of courage and tact, and no Mohammedan prejudices, we got on splendidly together. He was a very agreeable member of the party. My husband paid all his expenses from Quetta _viâ_ Bombay, with three servants, including their tents and camp equipage, and back to Quetta. Our party was rather a large one, for besides ourselves and our faithful Greek servant Matthaios, who has accompanied us in so many of our journeys, we had with us not only the Indians, but a young gardener from Kew, William Lunt by name, as botanist, and an Egyptian named Mahmoud Bayoumi, as naturalist, sent by Dr. Anderson, whose collections are now in the British Museum of Natural History at South Kensington. The former was provided with all the requisites for digging up forest trees, and Mahmoud had with him all that was necessary for pickling and preserving large mammals, for no one knew what might be found in the unknown land; and many were the volunteers to join the party as hunters, who promised to keep us in game, whereas if they had come they would only have found reptiles. As interpreter was recommended to us by the native political agent at Aden, Saleh Mohammed Jaffer, Khan Bahadur--a certain Saleh Hassan. He proved to be a fanatical Moslem, whose only object seemed to be to terrify us and to raise enemies against us, in order to prevent our trampling the holy land where Mohammed was born. Throughout our journey he was a constant source of difficulty and danger. Our starting-point for the interior was Makalla, which is 230 miles from Aden, and is the only spot between Aden and Maskat which has any pretensions to the name of port. The name itself means 'harbour.' It is first mentioned by Ibn Modjawir; Hamdani calls it El Asa-Lasa, and Masudi gives the name as Lahsa. The harbour is not available during the south-west monsoon, and then all the boats go off to Ras Borum or the Basalt Head. Here we were deposited in December 1893 by a chance steamer, one which had been chartered and on which for a consideration we were allowed to take passage. I took turns with the captain to sleep in his cabin, but there was nothing but the deck for the others. Immediately behind the town rise grim, arid mountains of a reddish hue, and the town is plastered against this rich-tinged background. By the shore, like a lighthouse, stands the white minaret of the mosque, the walls and pinnacles of which are covered with dense masses of sea-birds and pigeons; the gate of this mosque, which is really nearly in the sea, is blocked up by tanks, so that no one can enter with unwashed feet. Not far from this rises the huge palace where the sultan dwells, reminding one of a whitewashed mill; white, red, and brown are the dominant colours of the town, and in the harbour the Arab dhows, with fantastic sterns, rock to and fro in the unsteady sea, forming altogether a picturesque and unusual scene. Beyond the Bab Assab are huts where dwell the Bedouin who come from the mountains. They are not allowed to sleep within the town. There is a praying-place just outside the gate. In the middle of the town is a great cemetery full of tamarisks, and containing the sacred tomb of the sainted Wali Yakoub in the centre. We were amused by a dance at a street corner to the beating of drums. It consisted of a hot, seething mass of brown bodies writhing about and apparently enjoying themselves. Stone tobacco pipes are made here of a kind of limestone, very curly silver powder-flasks, rather like nautilus shells, and curious guns without stocks. The Bedou women wear tremendously heavy belts and very wide brass armlets. Their faces are veiled with something like the _yashmak_ of Egypt, but it is of plain blue calico, a little embroidered. Makalla is ruled over by a sultan of the Al Kaiti family, whose connection with India has made them very English in their sympathies, and his majesty's general appearance, with his velvet coat and jewelled daggers, is far more Indian than Arabian. Really the most influential people in the town are the money-grubbing Parsees from Bombay, and it is essentially one of those commercial centres where Hindustani is spoken nearly as much as Arabian. The government of the country is now almost entirely in the hands of the Al Kaiti family, which at present is the most powerful family in the district, and is reputed to be the richest in Arabia. About five generations ago the Seyyids of the Aboubekr family, at that time the chief Arab family at the Hadhramout, who claimed descent from the first of the Khalifs, were at variance with the Bedou tribes, and in their extremity they invited assistance from the chiefs of the Yafei tribe, who inhabit the Yafei district, to the north-east of Aden. To this request the Al Kaiti family responded by sending assistance to the Seyyids of the Hadhramout, putting down the troublesome Bedou tribes, and establishing a fair amount of peace and prosperity in the country, though even to this day the Bedouin of the mountains are ever ready to swoop down and harass the more peaceful inhabitants of the towns. At the same time the Al Kaiti family established themselves in the Hadhramout, and for the last four generations have been steadily adding to the power thus acquired. Makalla, Sheher, Shibahm, Haura, Hagarein, all belong to them, and they are continually increasing, by purchase, the area of their influence in the collateral valleys, building substantial castles, and establishing one of the most powerful dynasties in this much-divided country. They get all their money from the Straits Settlements, for it has been the custom of the Hadhrami to leave their own sterile country to seek their fortunes abroad. The Nizam of Hyderabad has an Arab regiment composed entirely of Hadhrami, and the Sultan Nawasjung, the present head of the Al Kaiti family, is its general: he lives in India and governs his Arabian possessions by deputy. His son Ghalib ruled in Sheher, his nephew Manassar, who receives a dollar a day from England, ruled in Makalla, and his nephew Salàh ruled in Shibahm, and the governors of the other towns are mostly connections of this family. The power and wealth of this family are almost the only guarantee for peace and prosperity in an otherwise lawless country. The white palace of the Sultan Manassar is six stories high, with little carved windows and a pretty sort of cornice of open-work bricks, unbaked of course, save by the sun. It stands on a little peninsula, and like Riviera towns, has pretty coast views on either side. The sultan received us with his two young sons, dressed up in as many fine clothes as it was possible to put on, and attended by his vizier, Abdul Kalek; no business was done as to our departure, but only compliments were paid on both sides. After we had separated presents were sent by us, loaves of sugar being an indispensable accompaniment. The so-called palace in which we were lodged was next to the mosque and close to the bazaar; the smells and noise were almost unendurable, so we worked hard to get our preparations made, and to make our sojourn here as short as possible. This 'palace' was a large building; a very dirty staircase led to a quantity of rooms, large and small, inhabited in rather a confusing manner, not only by our own party, but by another, and to get at our servants we had to pick our way between the prostrate forms of an Arabian gentleman and his attendants. We were the first arrivals, so we collected from the various rooms as many bits of torn and rotten old matting as we could find, to keep the dust down in our own room, which was about 40 feet long by 30 feet wide, so very much covered with dust that no pavement could be seen without digging. It would have been necessary to have 'seven maids with seven brooms to sweep for half a year' before they could have cleared that room. Windows were all round, unglazed of course, and quite shutterless. We set out our furniture and had plenty of room to spread the baggage round us. An enormous packing case from Kew Gardens had little besides a great fork in it, so that case came no farther. Another case, to which the botanist had to resort constantly, had always to be tied up with rope, as it had neither lock nor hinges. We were six days at Makalla arranging about camels and safe conduct, and wondering when we should get away; so of course we had plenty of time to inspect the town, which on account of the many Parsees had quite an Indian air in some parts. Sometimes one comes upon a deliciously scented part in the bazaars where myrrh and spices, attar of roses, and rose leaves are sold in little grimy holes almost too small to enter; but for the part near the fish market, I can only say that awful stenches prevail, and the part where dates and other fruits are sold is almost impassable from flies. For our journey inland we were entrusted by the sultan to a tribe of Bedouin and their camels. Mokaik was the name of our Mokadam or head-man, and his tribe rejoiced in the name of Khailiki. They were tiny spare men, quite beardless, with very refined, gentle faces; they might easily have been taken for women, so gentle and pretty were they. They were naturally dark, and made darker still by dirt and indigo. Their long shaggy hair was twisted up into a knot and bound by a long plaited leather string like a bootlace, which was wound round the hair and then two or three times round the head, like the fillet worn by Greek women in ancient times. They were naked save for a loin-cloth and the girdle to which were attached their brass powder flasks, shaped like a ram's horn, their silver cases for flint and steel, their daggers, and their thorn extractors, consisting of a picker and tweezers, fastened together. They are very different from the stately Bedouin of Syria and Egypt, and are, both as to religion and physique, distinctly an aboriginal race of Southern Arabia, as different from the Arab as the Hindoo is from the Anglo-Saxon. Our ideas as to _Bedouin_ and _Bedawi_, which latter word we never heard while we were in Southern Arabia, were that they were tall, bearded men, not very dark in colour, and our imaginations connected them with hospitality and much clothes. None of these characteristics are found among the Bedouin of this district. _Bedouin_ is not a word in use, but _Bedou_ for both singular and plural. They speak of themselves as _el Bedou_, and when they have seen us wondering at some strange custom, they have said apologetically, 'Ah! Bedou, Bedou!' I have heard them address a man whose name they did not know 'Ya Bedou.' I mean to use _Bedou_ for singular and _Bedouin_ for plural. Besides the Bedouin we were accompanied by five soldiers, Muofok-el-Briti, Taisir-i-Fahari, Bariki, and an old man. For the twenty-two camels we paid 175 dollars to Hagarein, a journey, we were told, of twenty days. It would have been useless to have had riding camels, as one could get no faster than the baggage and soldiers, and travelling so far daily, and up such rocks, one had to go at foot-pace. We should have had to wait longer at Makalla while more camels were collected, and the more camels you have the farther they stray when food is scarce, and the more chance there is of the annoyance of waiting for lost camels to be found, and sometimes found too late to start that day. We need not have had twenty-two camels, and once, later, all the baggage was sent on ten, but this was to suit the purposes of the Bedouin. Before proceeding further with our journey, I will here say a few words concerning the somewhat complex body politic of this portion of Arabia, the inhabitants of which may be divided into four distinct classes. Firstly, there are numerous wild tribes of Bedouin scattered all over the country, who do all the carrying trade, rear and own most of the camels, and possess large tracts of country, chiefly on the highlands and smaller valleys. They are very numerous and powerful, and the Arabs of the towns are certainly afraid of them, for they can make travelling in the country very difficult, and even blockade the towns. They never live in tents, as do the Bedouin of Northern Arabia; the richer ones have quite large houses, whilst the poorer ones--those in Shabwa and the Wadi Adim, for instance--dwell in caves. Secondly, we have the Arabs proper, a decidedly later importation into the country than the Bedouin. They live in and cultivate the lands around the towns; many of them carry on trade and go to India and the Straits Settlements, and some of them are very wealthy. They also are divided into tribes. The chief of those dwelling in the Hadhramout are the Yafei, Kattiri, Minhali, Amri, and Tamimi. The Bedouin reside amongst them, and they are constantly at war with one another, and the complex system of tribal union is exceedingly difficult to grasp. Thirdly, we have the Seyyids and Sherifs, a sort of aristocratic hierarchy, who trace their descent from the daughter and son of the Prophet. Their influence in the Hadhramout is enormous, and they fan the religious superstition of the people, for to this they owe their existence. They boast that their pedigree is purer than that of any other Seyyid family, even than those of Mecca and Medina. Seyyids and Sherifs are to be found in all the large towns and considerable villages, and even the Arab sultans show them a marked respect and kiss their hands when they enter a room. They have a distinct jurisdiction of their own, and most disputed points of property, water rights, and so on, are referred to their decision. They look with peculiar distrust on the introduction of external influence into their sacred country, and are the obstructionists of the Hadhramout, but at the same time their influence is decidedly towards law and order in a lawless land. They never carry arms. Lastly, we have the slave population of the Hadhramout, all of African origin, and the freed slaves who have married and settled in the country. Most of the tillers of the soil, personal servants, and the soldiers of the sultans are of this class. CHAPTER VII OUR DEPARTURE INTO THE INTERIOR Never shall I forget the confusion of our start. Mokaik and ten of his men appeared at seven in the morning of the day before in our rooms, with all the lowest beggars of Makalla in their train, and were let loose on our seventy packages like so many demons from Jehannam, yelling and quarrelling with one another. First of all the luggage had to be divided into loads for twenty-two camels, then they drew lots for these loads with small sticks, then they drew lots for us riders, and finally we had a stormy bargain as to the price, which was finally decided upon when the vizier came to help us, and ratified by his exchanging daggers with Mokaik, each dagger being presented on a flat hand. In the bazaars bargains are struck by placing the first two fingers of one contractor on the hand of the other. All that day they were rushing in and weighing, and exhorting us to be ready betimes in the morning, so we were quite ready about sunrise. We felt worn and weary when a start was made at two o'clock, and our cup of bitterness was full when we were deposited, bag and baggage, a few hundred yards from the gate, and told that we must spend the night amidst a sea of small fish drying on the shore, and surrounded on all sides by dirty Bedou huts. These fish, which are rather larger than sardines, are put out to dry by thousands along this coast. Men feed on them and so do the camels; they make lamp-oil out of them; they say the fish strengthens the camel's back, and they consider it good for camels to go once a year to the sea. Large sacks of them are taken into the interior as merchandise; they are mixed with small leaves like box, and carried in palm-leaf sacks, about 3 feet wide and 1½ feet high, and the air everywhere is redolent of their stench. At this point we had the first of many quarrels with our camel-men; we insisted on being taken two miles farther on, away from the smells; nothing short of threats of returning and getting the sultan to beat them and put them in prison enabled us to break through the conventional Arab custom of encamping for the first night outside the city gates. However, we succeeded in reaching Bakhrein, where white wells are placed for the benefit of wayfarers, and there beneath the pleasant shade of the palm-trees we halted for the remainder of the day and recovered from the agonies of our start. Among the trees was a bungalow belonging to the sultan where we had hoped to have been able to sleep, but it was pervaded by such a strong smell of fish that we preferred to pitch our tents. Between this place and Makalla all is arid waste, but near the town, by the help of irrigation, bananas and cocoanut trees flourish in a shallow valley called 'the Beginning of Light.' There are numerous fortresses about Bakhrein, so the road is now quite safe for the inhabitants of Makalla; the sultan has done a good deal to repress the Bedouin who used to raid right into the town. He crucified many of them. We took a couple of hours over our start next day, the Bedouin again quarrelling over the luggage, each trying to scramble for the lightest packages and the lightest riders. They tried to make me ride a camel and give up my horse to my husband. As he was so tall, he could obtain neither a horse nor a donkey, so had perforce to ride a camel. He had been able to buy a little dark donkey for Imam Sharif and the sultan gave me a horse, but all the rest were on camels. I thought I should enjoy riding by the camels and talking to everyone, but my hopes were not carried out. The difficulty of passing the strings of camels was enormous. The country was so very stony that if you left the narrow path it took a long time to pick your way. I used to start first with Imam Sharif, and then my horse, at foot-pace, got so far ahead that the soldiers said, 'We cannot guard both you and the camels.' I had then to pull in the horse with all my might. Sometimes I went on with Imam Sharif, one soldier and a servant carrying the plane-table. He used to go up some hill to survey, and I, of course, had to climb too for safety. I had to rush down when I saw our _kafila_ coming and mount, to keep in front. If I got behind, the camels were so terrified that they danced about and shed their loads, and I was cursed and sworn at by their drivers. We stopped three hours at Basra (10 miles), where there are a few houses, water, and some cultivation, and where the camels were suddenly unloaded without leave, and there was a great row because we moved the soldiers' guns from the tree, the shade of which we wished to have ourselves. We again threatened to return, but at last, as Taisir fortunately could speak Hindustani, he could make peace, and they ended by kissing hands and saying salaam (peace). The sun was setting when we reached a sandy place called Tokhum (another 5 miles on), where we camped near some stagnant water. We had to wait for the moon, to find our baggage and get out the lantern. We had travelled over almost leafless plains save that they had little patches of mesembryanthemum, and the inevitable balloon-shrub (_madhar_). Rising and starting by moonlight on Christmas morning, we stopped in Wadi Ghafit (_madhar_), a very pretty side valley, with warm water and palm-trees, and what looked like a grassy sward near the water, but which really consisted of a tiny kind of palm. The camel-men wanted to pass this place and camp far away on the stones, sending skins for water, but somehow my husband found this out after we had passed Wadi Ghafit, and managed to carry off the camels, tied tail after tail to his own camel, so the Bedouin had to follow unwillingly. We gave them some presents, saying it was not an everyday occurrence, but that this was a great feast with us; so we made friends. The Bedouin were very unruly about the packing. We could not get our most needful things kept handy, and they liked to pack our bread with their fish, and the waterskins anywhere among our bedding. Mokaik did not seem to have much authority over the various owners of the camels, and they were always quarrelling among themselves, robbing each other of light loads and leaving some heavy thing, that no one wished for, lying on the ground; this often occasioned re-packing. They had for each camel a stout pair of sticks with strong ropes attached, and having bound a bundle of packages to each stick, two men lifted them and wound the ropes round the sticks over a very tiny pack-saddle and a mass of untidy rags. When we arrived they liked to simply loose the ropes from the sticks and let the baggage clatter to the ground and lead away the camels. As they would not be persuaded to sort the things, and as twenty-two camels cover a good deal of space, it was like seeking the slain on a battlefield when we had to wander about having every bundle untied. Three days' camel-riding up one of the short valleys which lead towards the high table-land offered little of interest beyond arid, igneous rocks, and burnt-up, sand-covered valleys, with distorted strata on either side. Here and there, where warm volcanic streams rise out of the ground, the wilderness is converted into a luxuriant garden, in which palms, tobacco, and other green things grow. One of the scrub trees which clothe the wilderness is called by the Arabs _rack_, and is used by them for cleaning their teeth. It amused us to chew this as we went along: it is slightly bitter, but cleans the teeth most effectually. There is also a poisonous sort of cucumber, called by the Arabs _madakdak_. They clean out the inside and fill the skin with water, which they drink as a medicine. At Sibeh, which we reached after a very hot ride of twelve or thirteen miles, we found water with scores of camels lying round it, for there were two or three other _kafilas_, or caravans, beside our own. It was dreadfully cold that night, and we could not get at our bag of blankets. Next we entered the narrow, tortuous valley of Howeri, which ascends towards the highland, in which the midday heat was intense; and at our evening halts we suffered not a little from camel-ticks, which abound in the sand, until we learnt to avoid old camping-grounds and not to pitch our tents in the immediate vicinity of the wells. We encamped in a narrow, stony river-bed, between walls of rock, near a little village called Tahiya. There is a good deal of cultivation about. The closeness of the situation made the smell of the dried fish we carried for the camels almost unbearable. These sacks are stretched open in the evening and put in the middle of a circle of camels, their masters often joining in the feast. One of the men was attacked by fever, so he was given quinine, and his friends were told to put him to bed and cover him well. When we went to visit him later we found him quite contented in one of these fish sacks, his head in one corner and his legs all doubled up and packed in; only a bare brown back was exposed, so we had a few of the camel's rags thrown on his back, and he was well next day. We went on ten miles to Al Ghail, rising to an altitude of 2,000 feet above the sea-level. This word _ghail_ begins with the Arabic _ghin_, which is a soft sound between _r_ and _g_. There are two villages near the head of the Wadi Howeri, where there is actually a _ghail_--that rare phenomenon in Arabia, a rill or running stream. Here the Bedou inhabitants cultivate the date palm, and have green patches of lucerne and grain, very refreshing to the eye. We had come up one of the narrowest of gorges, but with hundreds of palm-trees around Al Ghail, the first of the two villages, which is in the end of the Wadi Howeri. It is an uninteresting collection of stone huts, with many pretty little fields, and maidenhair fern overhanging the wayside. There are little enclosures with walls round them, and small stones in them, on which they dry the dates before sending them to Aden. The rocky river-bed itself is waterless, the _ghail_ being used up in irrigation. At Al Bat'ha, which is just above the tableland, we actually encamped under a spreading tree, a wild, unedible fig called _luthba_ by the Arabs, a nickname given to all worthless, idle individuals in these parts. Bedou women crowded around us, closely veiled in indigo-dyed masks, with narrow slits for their eyes, carrying their babies with them in rude cradles resembling hencoops, with a cluster of charms hung from the top, which has the twofold advantage of amusing the baby and keeping off the evil eye. After much persuasion we induced one of the good ladies to sit for her photograph, or rather to sit still while something was being done which she did not in the least understand. There is very good water at Al Bat'ha, and so much of the kind of herbs that camels like that we delayed our departure till eight, shivering by a fire and longing as ardently for the arrival of the sun as we should for his departure. The road had been so steep and stony that the camel-riders had all been on foot for two days. I am sure that, except near a spring, no one dropped from the skies would dream he was in Arabia the Happy. It is hard to think that 'the Stony' and 'the Desert' must be worse. CHAPTER VIII THE AKABA Having left these villages behind us, we climbed rapidly higher and higher, until at an elevation of over 4,000 feet we found ourselves at last on a broad, level table-land, stretching as far as the eye could reach in every direction. This is no doubt the 'Maratha Mountains' of Ptolemy, the Mons Excelsus of Pliny,[8] which shuts off the Hadhramout, where once flourished the frankincense and the myrrh. Words cannot express the desolate aspect of this vast table-land, Akaba or the 'going-up,' as the Arabs call it. It is perfectly level, and strewn with black lumps of basalt, looking as though a gigantic coal-scuttle had been upset. Occasionally there rises up above the plain a flat-topped mound or ridge, some 80 feet high, the last remnant of a higher level which is now disappearing. There is no sign of habitation. Only here and there are a few tanks, dug to collect the rain-water, if any falls. These are protected or indicated by a pair of walls built opposite one another, and banked up on the outer side with earth and stones, like shooting butts. The Akaba is exclusively Bedou property, and wherever a little herbage is to be found, there the nomads drive their flocks and young camels. Of the frankincense which once flourished over all this vast area, we saw only one specimen on the highland itself, though it is still found in the more sheltered gullies; and farther east, in the Mahri country, there is, I understand, a considerable quantity left. We were often given lumps of gum arabic, and myrrh is still found plentifully; it is tapped for its odoriferous sap. It is a curious fact that the Somali come from Africa to collect it, going from tribe to tribe of the Bedouin, and buying the right to collect these two species, sometimes paying as much as fifty dollars. They go round and cut the trees, and after eight days return to collect the exuded sap. In ancient times none but slaves collected frankincense and myrrh. This fact, taken probably with the meaning of the name Hadhramout (the later form of the ancient name Hazarmaveth), gave rise to the quaint Greek legend 'that the fumes of the frankincense-trees were deadly, and the place where they grew was called the valley or enclosure of death.' From personal observation it would appear that the ancients held communication with the Hadhramout almost entirely by the land caravan-route, as there is absolutely no trace of great antiquity to be found along the coast-line, whereas the Wadi Hadhramout itself and its collateral branches are very rich in remains of the ancient Himyaritic civilisation. Though we were always looking about for monuments of antiquity, the most ancient and lasting memorial of far past ages lay beneath our feet in that little narrow path winding over Akaba and Wadi, and polished by the soft feet of millions of camels that had slowly passed over it for thousands and thousands of years. We found the air of the table-land fresh and invigorating after the excessive heat of the valleys below. For three days we travelled northwards across the plateau. Our first stage was Haibel Gabrein. This is, as it were, the culminating point of the whole district; it is 4,150 feet above the sea. From it the table-land slopes gently down to the northward towards the main valley of the Hadhramout, and eastwards towards the Wadi Adim. After two days more travelling we approached the heads of the many valleys which run into the Hadhramout; the Wadis Doan, Rakhi, Al Aisa, Al Ain, Bin Ali, and Adim all start from this elevated plateau and run nearly parallel. The curious feature of most of these valleys is the rapid descent into them; they look as if they had been taken out of the high plateau like slices out of a cake. They do not appear to have been formed by a fall of water from this plateau; in fact, it is impossible that a sufficient force of water could ever have existed on this flat surface to form this elaborate valley system. In the valleys themselves there is very little slope, for we found that, with the exception of the Wadi Adim, all the valley heads we visited were nearly of uniform height with the main valley, and had a wall of rock approaching 1,000 feet in height, eaten away as it were out of the plateau. We were, therefore, led to suppose that these valleys had originally been formed by the action of the sea, and that the Hadhramout had once been a large bay or arm of the sea, which, as the waters of the ocean receded, leaving successive marks of many strands on the limestone and sandstone rocks which enclosed them, formed an outlet for the scanty water-supply of the Southern Arabian highlands. These valleys have, in the course of ages, been silted up by sand to a considerable height, below which water is always found, and the only means of obtaining water in the Hadhramout for drinking purposes, as well as for cultivation, is by sinking wells. The water of the main valley is strongly impregnated with salt, but is much sweeter at the sides of the valley than in the centre. No doubt this is caused by the weight of the alkaline deposits washed down from the salt hills at Shabwa, at the head of the main valley. The steep, reddish sandstone cliffs which form the walls of these valleys are themselves almost always divided into three distinct stories or stratifications, which can be distinctly seen on the photographs. The upper one is very abrupt, the second slightly projecting and more broken, and the third formed by deposit from above. The descent into the valley is extremely difficult at all points. Paths down which camels can just make their way have been constructed by the Bedouin, by making use of the stratified formation and the gentler slopes; but only in the case of the Wadi Adim, of all the valleys we visited, is there anything approaching a gradual descent. It appears to me highly probable that the systematic destruction of the frankincense and myrrh trees through countless generations has done much to alter the character of this Akaba, and has contributed to the gradual silting up of the Hadhramout and its collateral valleys, to which fact I shall again have occasion to refer. The aspect of this plateau forcibly recalled to our minds that portion of Abyssinia which we visited in 1892-93; there is the same arid coast-line between the sea and the mountains, and the same rapid ascent to a similar absolutely level plateau, and the same draining northwards to a large river-bed in the case of Abyssinia, into the valleys of the Mareb and other tributaries of the Nile, and in the case of this Arabian plateau into the Hadhramout. Only Abyssinia has a more copious rainfall, which makes its plateau more productive. It had not been our intention to visit the Wadi Al Aisa, but to approach the Hadhramout by another valley called Doan, parallel and further west, but our camel-men would not take us that way, and purposely got up a scare that the men of Khoreba at the head of Wadi Doan were going to attack us, and would refuse to let us pass. A convenient old woman was found who professed to bring this news, a dodge subsequently resorted to by another Bedou tribe which wanted to govern our progress. The report brought to us, as from the old woman, was to this effect: A large body of sheikhs and seyyids having started from Khoreba[9] to meet and repel us, Mokaik's father had left home to help us. As we had now abandoned Khoreba, Mokaik said he was anxious to hurry off to meet his father and prevent a hostile collision. Mokaik was told _he_ could not go as he was responsible for our safety, but that some others might go. 'No,' said Mokaik, 'they cannot be spared from the camels; we will get two men from the village.' My husband agreed to this, but when Mokaik proposed that my husband should at once pay these men, he told Mokaik that he must pay them himself, as he was paid to protect us. This attempt at extortion having failed, we passed a peaceful night and subsequently found Mokaik's father, Suleiman Bakran, safe at home, which he had never thought of leaving. Our first peep down into the Wadi Al Aisa, towards which our Bedouin had conducted us, was striking in the extreme, and as we gazed down into the narrow valley, with its line of vegetation and its numerous villages, we felt as if we were on the edge of another world. The descent from the table-land to the Wadi is exactly 1,500 feet by a difficult, but very skilfully engineered footpath. The sun's rays, reflected from the limestone cliffs, were scorchingly hot. The camels went a longer way round, nearer the head of the valley, but, so difficult was our short cut that they arrived before us, and the horse, and the donkey. Having humbly descended into the Wadi Al Aisa, because we were not allowed to go by the Wadi Doan, we found ourselves encamped hard by the village of Khaila, the head-quarters of the Khailiki tribe, within a stone's throw of Mokaik's father's house and under the shadow of the castle of his uncle, the sheikh of the tribe. These worthies both extorted from us substantial sums of money and sold us food at exorbitant prices, and so we soon learnt why we were not permitted to go to Khoreba, and why the old woman and her story had been produced. We thought Mokaik and his men little better than naked savages when on the plateau, but when we were introduced to their relatives, and when we saw their castles and their palm groves and their long line of gardens in the narrow valley, our preconceived notions of the wild homeless Bedou and his poverty underwent considerable change. We climbed up the side of the valley opposite Khaila to photograph a castle adorned with horns, but were driven away; too late, for the picture had been taken. During the two days we encamped at Khaila we were gazed upon uninterruptedly by a relentless crowd of men, women, and children. It amused us at first to see the women, here for the most part unmasked, with their exceedingly heavy girdles of brass, their anklets of brass half a foot deep, their bracelets of brass, their iron nose rings, and their massive and numerous earrings which tore down the lobe of the ear with their weight. Every Bedou, male or female, has a ring or charm of cornelian set in base silver, and agates and small tusks also set in silver. The root with which the women paint themselves yellow is called _shubab_. It is dried and powdered. It only grows when there is rain. The whole of the poultry at Khaila was carried about in the arms of the women and children who owned them, all the time of our sojourn, in the hopes of selling them. They, at least, were glad of our departure. Not far from Khaila, we saw a fine village which we were told was inhabited by Arabs of pure blood, so we sent a polite message to the seyyid, or head-man of the place, to ask if we might pay him our respects. His reply was to the effect that if we paid thirty dollars we might come and pass four hours in the town. Needless to say we declined the invitation with thanks, and on the morrow when we marched down the Wadi Al Aisa we gave the abode of this hospitable seyyid a wide berth, particularly as the soldiers told us it was not safe, for the Arabs meant to kill us. Leaving Khaila, where we remained two nights and saw the New Year in, we passed a good many towered villages: Larsmeh was one, Hadouf another, also Subak and others. We passed the mouth of the Wadi Doan, which runs parallel to Wadi Al Aisa, and has two branches, only the largest having the name Doan. The mouth is about three miles below Khaila; five miles more brought us to Sief, where we halted for a night. It is also inhabited by pure Arabs, who treated us with excessive rudeness. It is a very picturesque spot, perched on a rock, with towers and turrets constructed of sun-dried brick; only here, as elsewhere in these valleys, the houses being so exactly the same colour as the rocks behind them, they lose their effect. The rich have evidently recognised this difficulty and whitewash their houses, but in the poorer villages there is no whitewash, and consequently nothing to make them stand out from their surroundings. One can pretty well judge of the wealth of the owners of the various towers and castles by the amount of whitewash. Some have only the pinnacles white, and some can afford to trim up the windows and put bands round the building. At Sief several men came once or twice and begged my husband to let me go out that the women might see me, but when I went out they would not allow me to approach or hold any intercourse with the Arab women, using opprobrious epithets when I tried to make friendly overtures, with the quaint result that whenever I advanced towards a group of gazing females they fled precipitately like a flock of sheep before a collie dog, so we discovered that it was the men themselves who wished to see me. These women wear their dresses high in front (showing their yellow-painted legs above the knee) and long behind; they are of deep blue cotton, decorated with fine embroidery, and patches of yellow and red sewn on in patterns. It is the universal female dress in the Hadhramout, and looks as if the fashion had not changed since the days when Hazarmaveth the Patriarch settled in this valley and gave it his name.[10] The tall tapering straw hat worn by these women when in the fields contributes with the mask to make the Hadhrami females as externally repulsive as the most jealous of husbands could desire. I am pretty sure that this must be the very same dress which made such an unfavourable impression upon Sir John Maundeville, when he saw 'the foul women who live near Babylon the great.' He says: 'They are vilely arrayed. They go barefoot and clothed in evil garments, large and wide, but short to the knees, long sleeves down to the feet like a monk's frock, and their sleeves are hanging about their shoulders.' The dress is certainly wide, for the two pieces of which it is composed, exactly like the Greek peplos, when the arms are extended, stretch from finger-tip to finger-tip, so when this dress is caught into the loose girdle far below the waist, it hangs out under the arms and gives a very round-backed look, as is the case with the peplos. There are a great many Arabs at Sief, a most unhealthy, diseased-looking lot. They are of the yellow kind of Arab, with Jewish-looking faces. Saleh retired into Sief on our arrival, and we saw him no more till we started next day. He was a very useless interpreter. He used to like to live in the villages, saying he could not bear to live in the camp of such unbelievers as we were, and used to bring his friends to our kitchen and show them some little tins of Lazenby's potted meat, adorned with a picture of a sheep, a cow, and a pig, as a proof that we lived on pork, whereas we had none with us. He always tried to persuade the people that he was far superior to any of us, and when places had to be made amongst the baggage on the camels for my husband and the servants to ride, he used to have his camel prepared and ride on, leaving some of the servants with no seat kept on the camels for them. My husband cured him of this, for one morning, seeing Saleh's bedding nicely arranged, he jumped on to the camel himself and rode off, leaving Saleh an object of great derision. Once we got down into the valley we had to ride very close together for safety, and I found it most tiresome making my horse, Basha, keep pace with the camels. The people at Sief were so disagreeable that I told Saleh to remind them that, if our Queen wanted their country, she would have had it long before we were born, and that they were very foolish to fear so small an unarmed party, who had only come to pass the winter in a country warmer than their own; at the same time, unless we had been quite confident that our safety was well secured from behind, such a party, with a woman among them, would never have come. We set off early next morning for Hagarein. We passed after one hour Kaidoun, with its own private little valley to the west, a tributary of the main one, which in this part is called Wadi Kasr. There is the grave of a celebrated saint, and a very pious seyyid, called Al Habid Taha Ali al Hadad, abides near it. He never goes out of his house, but is so much revered that many thousands of dollars are sent him from India and other parts, and when his son visited Aden he was received with great honour by the merchants there. Then we passed several other villages, including Allahaddi and Namerr. It was at the _ziaret_ or pilgrimage to the grave in Kaidoun that Herr von Wrede, who was disguised, was discovered to be a Christian and forced to turn back. The town of Hagarein or Hajarein is the principal one in the collateral valleys, and is built on a lofty isolated rock in the middle of the Wadi Kasr, about twenty miles before it joins the main valley of the Hadhramout. With its towers and turrets it recalled to our minds as we saw it in the distance certain hill-set, mediæval villages of Germany and Italy. Here a vice-sultan governs on behalf of the Al Kaiti family, an ill-conditioned, extortionate individual, whose bad reception of us contributed to his subsequent removal from office. Internally Hagarein is squalid and dirty in the extreme; each street is but a cesspool for the houses on either side of it, and the house allotted to us produced specimens of most smells and most insects. The days of rest we proposed for ourselves here were spent in fighting with our old camel-men who left us here, in fighting with the new ones who were to take us on to the main valley, and in indignantly refusing to pay the sultan the sum of money which our presence in his town led him to think it his right to demand. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 8: Pliny, xii. 14, 52: 'In medio Arabiae fere sunt Adramitae pagus Saboraeum in monte excelso.'] [Footnote 9: The town of Khoreba, in the Wadi Doan, may represent the town of Doan itself mentioned by Hamdani, the Thabanê of Ptolemy, which Pliny calls Toani. The name Khoreba signifies ruins.] [Footnote 10: Gen. x. 26.] CHAPTER IX THROUGH WADI KASR When we reached the foot of the hill on which Hagarein stands we dismounted; there was tremendous work to get out the sword of the oldest soldier; he had used it so much as a walking-stick that it was firmly fixed in the scabbard. The scabbards are generally covered with white calico. A very steep, winding, slippery road led us to the gate, where soldiers received us and conducted us to a courtyard, letting off guns the while. There stood the Sultan Abdul M'Barrek Hamout al Kaiti, a very fat, evil-looking man, pitted by smallpox. After shaking hands he led us down the tortuous streets to his palace, and then took us up a narrow mud staircase, so dark that we did not know whether to turn to the right or left; we sometimes went one way and sometimes the other. At length we reached a small room with some goat-hair carpets and we and the sultan, the soldiers (his and ours), the Bedouin and my groom, M'barrek, all seated ourselves round the wall, and after a long time a dirty glass of water was handed round as our only entertainment. As we had had nothing to eat since sunrise, and it was about two o'clock, we did not feel cheerful when the sultan abruptly rose and said he must pray. Praying and sleeping are always the excuses when they want to get rid of guests or say 'not at home,' and indeed the sleeping excuse prevails in Greece also. Some time after, our four chairs were brought, so we sat till near four o'clock homeless, and getting hungrier and hungrier, when the sultan reappeared, telling my husband all our things were locked up in a courtyard and giving him a great wooden key. We hastened to our home, up a long dark stair, past many floors, all used as stalls and stables, &c., only the two top floors being devoted to human habitation. Each floor consisted of one fair-sized room and one very tiny den, a kitchen. The whole Indian party had the lower room, and three of our soldiers the den. I cannot think how they could all lie down at once, and they had to cook there besides. Above that, we had the best room, the botanist and naturalist the den, and Matthaios made his abode on the roof, where he cooked. The Bedouin, having unloaded the camels in the courtyard across the street, refused to help us, and, as no one else could be got, my husband and all his merry men had to carry up the baggage, while I wrestled with the beds and other furniture in our earthy room. The instant the baggage was up the Bedouin clamoured for payment, and it was trying work opening the various packages where the bags of money were scattered, and to begin quarrelling when we were so weary and hungry. We had been told that our journey to Hagarein would take twenty days, whereas it only took thirteen, and that we must take two camels for water, which had proved unnecessary; besides the camels had been much loaded with fish and other goods belonging to the Bedouin. My husband said he would pay for the twenty days and they would thus have thirty dollars as _bakshish_. But, in the end, the soldiers from Makalla said we must pay _bakshish_: it would be an insult to their sultan if we did not and they would go no further with us. The local sultan also insisting, fourteen more dollars had to be produced. Our own soldiers soon came shouting and saying they must have half a rupee a day for food, which my husband thought it wise to give, though the _wazir_ at Makalla had said he was to give nothing. They were hardly gone when the sultan came back personally conducting two kids and saying we need think of no further expense; we were his guests and were to ask for what we wished. All my husband asked for was daily milk. We got some that day, but never again. My groom, M'barrek, then came, saying he must have food money; that being settled, he returned saying the sultan said he must have half a rupee a day for my horse, which became very thin on the starvation he got. All this time we could get no water, so not till dark could Matthaios furnish us with tea, cold meat, bread, and honey. We were fortunate in having plenty of bread. We had six big sacks of large cakes of plain bread dried hard, and of this we had learnt the value by experience. We kept it sheltered, if there was any fear of rain, as in Abyssinia, for instance, and before a meal soaked it in water, wrapped it in a napkin a few minutes, and then dried it up to the consistency of fresh bread. We were often obliged to give it to the horses, for the difficulty as to forage makes them unfit to travel in such barren places. We also took charcoal and found that, with it and the bread, we had our meals long before the Indian party, who had a weary search for fuel before they could even begin with 'pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man.' The making of _chupatties_ also causes delay in starting. As to the honey it is most plentiful and tastes like orange flowers, but really it is the date-flower which imparts this flavour. It is much more glutinous than ours. It is packed, for exportation and to bring as tribute, in large round tin boxes, stopped up round the edges with mud. It is used in paying both taxes and tribute. We were quite worn out with this day. The sultan received a present next morning of silk for a robe, a turban, some handkerchiefs, two watches, some knives, scissors, needle-cases, and other things, but he afterwards sent Saleh to say he did not like his present at all and wanted dollars. He got ten rupees and was satisfied. We again visited him with our servants and soldiers and were given tea while we talked over the future, and all seemed fair. Later the sultan came to visit us and talk about the escort. He said we must take five soldiers, bargained for their wages, food, and bakshish, and obtained the money. My husband inquired about some ruins near Meshed, three hours by camel from Hagarein, and said that if the sultan would arrange that we should dig safely, he should have forty dollars, and he settled to go with my husband next day to see the place. Accordingly next day the sultan came with eight soldiers, singing and dancing all the way, and some men of the Nahad tribe as _siyara_, as we were then in their land. The sultan showed us two letters in which it was said that we were to have been attacked between Sief and Kaidoun, and we remembered having seen a man on a camel apparently watching for us, but instead of coming forward he galloped away; and thus it appears we got past the place from which they meant to set upon us, before the attacking party could arrive. During the days we were at Hagarein several weddings were celebrated. To form a suitable place for conviviality they cover over a yard with mats, just as the Abyssinians do, and the women, to show their hilarity on the occasion, utter the same gurgling noises as the Abyssinian women do on a like occasion, and which in Abyssinia is called _ulultà_. From our roof we watched the bridegroom's nocturnal procession to his bride's house, accompanied by his friends bearing torches, and singing and speechifying to their hearts' content. On our return from the ruins near Meshed, Taisir (our soldier) came to us and was very indignant about the price the sultan charged for his soldiers. He was given ten rupees to attach himself to us, as an earnest of the good bakshish he would get at the coast, as he said all the other soldiers would go back from Shibahm, and really in that case I think he would have been glad of our escort. Then Saleh, who had 100 rupees a month and ate with everyone, came to demand half a rupee a day for food; this was granted, as we thought it could come off his bakshish, and he soon appeared to make the same request for Mahmoud, the naturalist. Matthaios was furious, as Mahmoud ate partly with him, and no one was angrier with him than Saleh. It was settled that we should give him tea, bread, and four annas, and they all went off bawling. Afterwards we heard Saleh had said, 'Mr. Bent is giving so much money to the sultan, why should we not have some?' We really thought at first that we should be able to encamp at Meshed and dig, for there was a seyyid who had been in Hyderabad and was very civil to us, but this happiness only lasted one hour. The sultan said it would really not be safe unless we lived in Hagarein, so we had to give it up as it was an impossibility to dig in the heat of the day, with six hours' journey to fatigue us; besides we must have paid many soldiers and we were told no one would dig for us. So much was said about the dangers of the onward road that Saleh was sent with the letters for Shibahm and Sheher and told to hold them tight, and say that if we could not deliver these in person we should return to the wali of Aden and say that the sultan of Hagarein would not let us go on. This frightened him, so he made a very dear bargain for fifteen camels, and we were to leave next day. We were glad enough to depart from Hagarein, which is so picturesque that it really might be an old, mediæval, fortified town on the Rhine, built entirely of mud and with no water in its river. All the houses are enormously high, and have a kitchen and oven on each floor. The bricks of which they are built are about one foot square and with straw in them. They have shooting holes from every room and machicolations over the outer doors and along the battlements, and what makes the houses seem to contain even more stories than they do, is that each floor has two ranges of windows, one on the ground so that you can only see out if you sit on the floor, and another too high to see out of at all; below every lower window projects a long wooden spout. The narrow lanes are mere drains, and the whole place a hotbed of disease; the people looked very unhealthy: when cholera comes they die like flies. As a wind up to this last evening Mahmoud came into our room and soon began to say his prayers; we could not make out why, but it turned out he had no light in his room. Altogether we had not a reposeful time in Hagarein. We were told early next day that fourteen men of the Nahad tribe had come as our _siyara_, though we had been told two would be sufficient; so we had to agree to take four. Then we were asked to pay those who had come unbidden. The sultan came himself about it, and his children came to beg for annas. At last the sultan, who had often said he felt as if he were our brother, obtained twelve rupees which he asked for to pay his expenses for the kids and honey, and said my horse had eaten the worth of twice as much money as he had asked before. When we finally got off we found the old rascal had only sent half the Nahadi and had only sent two soldiers, and so had really made forty dollars out of us over that one item. The Nahad men had ten dollars each. They are not under the sultan of Makalla, but independent. The Nahad tribe occupy about ten miles of the valley through which we passed, and the toll-money we paid to this tribe for the privilege of passing by was the most exorbitant demanded from us on our journey. When once you have paid the toll-money (_siyar_), and have with you the escort (_siyara_) of the tribe in whose territory you are, you are practically safe wherever you may travel in Arabia, but this did not prevent us from being grossly insulted as we passed by certain Nahad villages. Kaidoun, where dwells the very holy man so celebrated all the country round for his miracles and good works, is the chief centre of this tribe. We had purposely avoided passing too near this town, and afterwards learnt that it was owing to the influence of this very holy seyyid that our reception was so bad amongst the Nahad tribe. All about Hagarein are many traces of the olden days when the frankincense trade flourished, and when the town of Doan, which name is still retained in the Wadi Doan, was a great emporium for this trade. Acres and acres of ruins, dating from the centuries immediately before our era, lie stretched along the valley here, just showing their heads above the weight of superincumbent sand which has invaded and overwhelmed the past glories of this district. The ruins of certain lofty square buildings stand upon hillocks at isolated intervals; from these we got several inscriptions, which prove that they were the high 'platforms' alluded to on so many Himyaritic inscribed stones as raised in honour of their dead. As for the town around them, it has been entirely engulfed in sand; the then dry bed of a torrent runs through the centre, and from this fact we can ascertain, from the walls of sand on either side of the stream, that the town itself has been buried some 30 feet or 40 feet by this sand. It is now called Raidoun. The ground lies strewn with fragments of Himyaritic inscriptions, pottery, and other indications of a rich harvest for the excavator, but the hostility of the Nahad tribe prevented us from paying these ruins more than a cursory visit, and even to secure this we had to pay the sheikh of the place nineteen dollars, and his greeting was ominous as he angrily muttered, 'Salaam to all who believe Mohammed is the true prophet.' We were warned 'that our eyes should never be let to see Meshed again;' we might camp before we got there, or after, as we wished, so were led by a roundabout way to Adab, and saw no more of the leprous seyyid who told such wondrous tales about the English king who once lived in Hagarein, and how the English, Turks, and Arabs were all descended from King Sam. Also he told the Addite fable of how the giants and rich men tried to make a paradise of their own, the beautiful garden of Irem, and defied God, and so destruction came upon the tribe of Ad, the remnant of whom survive at Aden on Jebel Shemshan, in the form of monkeys. This is the Mohammedan legend of the end of the Sabæan Empire. We were much amused with what Imam Sharif said to this seyyid. Imam Sharif is himself a seyyid or sherif, a descendant of Mohammed, his family having come from Medina, so he was always much respected. He said to him: 'You think these English are very bad people, but the Koran says that all people are like their rulers; now we have no spots or diseases on our bodies, but are all clean and sound, which shows plainly that our ruler and the rest of us must be the same. Now you, my brother, must be under the displeasure of God, for I see that you are covered with leprosy.' This was not a kind or civil speech, I fear, but not a ruder one than those addressed to us. This leprosy shows itself by an appearance as if patches of white skin were neatly set into the dark skin. At Adab they would not allow us to dip our vessels in their well, nor take our repast under the shadow of their mosque: even the women of this village ventured to insult us, peeping into our tent at night, and tumbling over the jugs in a manner most aggravating to the weary occupants. The soldiers had abandoned us and gone to sleep in the village. A dreary waste of sand led past Kerren to Badorah. I arrived first with Imam Sharif, a servant, and a soldier. We dismounted, as there was some surveying to be done. The people were quite friendly, we thought, though they crowded round me shouting to see the 'woman.' I went to some women grouped at a little distance, and we had no trouble as long as we were there. We had left before the camels came and heard that the rest of the party had been very badly received, stones were thrown, and shouts raised of 'Pigs! Infidels! Dogs! Come down from your camels and we will cut your throats.' We attributed this to Saleh Hassan, for he made enemies for us wherever we went. At this village they were busy making indigo dye in large jars like those of the forty thieves. We were soon out of the Nahad country. Our troubles on the score of rudeness were happily terminated at Haura, where a huge castle, belonging to the Al Kaiti family, dominates a humble village, surrounded by palm groves. Without photographs to bear out my statement, I should hardly dare to describe the magnificence of these castles in the Hadhramout. That at Haura is seven stories high, and covers fully an acre of ground beneath the beetling cliff, with battlements, towers, and machicolations bearing a striking likeness to Holyrood; but Holyrood is built of stone, and Haura, save for the first story, is built of sun-dried bricks, and if Haura stood where Holyrood does, or in a rainy climate, it would long ago have crumbled away. Haura is supposed to be the site of an ancient Himyaritic town. We were told that the sultan of Hagarein is not entirely under Makalla, but that he of Haura is. The castle of the sultan is nice and clean inside, and it was pleasant, after some very reviving cups of coffee and ginger, and some very public conversation, to find our canvas homes all erected on a hard field--a pleasant change from our late dusty places. Mahmoud obtained a fox, which was his first mammal, saving a bushy-tailed rat. We were sent a lamb and a box of honey, and soon after the governor arrived to request a present. He asked thirty rupees but got twenty, and the new soldiers in place of the Nahadi men were to have five rupees on arrival at Koton. We were now nearing the palace of Sultan Salàh-bin-Mohammad al Kaiti of Shibahm, the most powerful monarch in the Hadhramout, who has spent twelve years of his life in India, and whose reception of us was going to be magnificent, our escort told us. As we were leaving Haura, just standing about waiting to mount, I felt something hard in one finger of my glove which I was putting on. I thought it was a dry leaf and hooked it down with my nail and shook it into my hand. Imagine my terror on lifting my glove at seeing a scorpion wriggling there. I dropped it quickly, shouting for Mahmoud and the collecting-bottle, and then caught it in a handkerchief. This was the way that _Buthia Bentii_ introduced himself to the scientific world, for he was of a new species. It turned out that the 'oldest soldier' was father to the sultan of Haura. He went no farther with us. The next day, three miles after leaving Haura, we quitted the Wadi Kasr and at last, at the village of Alimani, entered the main valley of the Hadhramout. It is here very broad, being at least eight miles from cliff to cliff, and receives collateral valleys from all sides, forming, as it were, a great basin. Hitherto our way had been generally northward, from Makalla to Tokhum, north-east, and then north-west; now we turned westward down the great valley, though still with a slight northward tendency. We passed Ghanima, Ajlania on a rock to the right, and Henan and the Wadi Menwab behind it on our left. Wellsted, in his list of the Hadhramout towns, mentions Henan as Ainan, and as a very ancient town, on the hill near which are inscriptions and rude sculptures. For seven hours we travelled along the valley, which from its width was like a plain till we were within a mile of the castle of Al Koton, where the sultan of Shibahm resides. Thus far all was desert and sand, but suddenly the valley narrows, and a long vista of cultivation was spread before us. Here miles of the valley are covered with palm groves. Bright green patches of lucerne called _kadhlb_, almost dazzling to look upon after the arid waste, and numerous other kinds of grain are raised by irrigation, for the Hadhramout has beneath its expanse of sand a river running, the waters of which are obtained by digging deep wells. Skin buckets are let down by ropes and drawn up by cattle by means of a steep slope, and then the water is distributed for cultivation through narrow channels; it is at best a fierce struggle with nature to produce these crops, for the rainfall can never be depended upon. We had intended to push on to Al Koton, but Sultan Salàh sent a messenger to beg us not to arrive till the following morning, that his preparations to receive us might be suitable to our dignity, as the first English travellers to visit his domains. So we encamped just on the edge of the cultivation, about a mile off, at Ferhud, where under the shade of palm-trees there is a beautiful well of brackish water, with four oxen, two at each side to draw up the water. Outside the cultivation in its arid waste of sand the Hadhramout produces but little; now and again we came across groups of the camelthorn, tall trees somewhat resembling the holm oak. It is in Arabic a most complicated tree. Its fruit, like a small crab apple, is called _b'dom_, very refreshing, and making an excellent preserve; its leaves, which they powder and use as soap, are called _ghasl_, meaning 'washing'; whereas the tree itself is called _ailb_, and is dearly loved by the camels, who stretch their long necks to feed off its branches. We wondered what kind of reception we should have, for people's ideas on this point vary greatly. In order not to offend the sultan's prejudices too much, we determined to dissemble, and I decided not to wear my little camera, and Imam Sharif packed the plane-table out of sight. We settled that he should have the medicine chest in his charge and be the doctor of the party, and addressed him as Hakim. Even Saleh feared so much what the future might hold in store, that he removed his drawers and shoes, and advised Imam Sharif to do the same, as Mohammed had never worn such things. Imam Sharif refused to take these precautions, saying that if Mohammed had been born in Cashmere he would have assuredly worn both drawers and shoes. Imam Sharif wore a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and a turban when on the march, but in camp he wore Indian clothes. However, we were soon visited by the sultan's two wazirs on spirited Arab steeds: magnificent individuals with plaided turbans, long lances, and many gold mohurs fixed on their dagger handles, all of which argued well for our reception on the morrow by the sultan of Shibahm. We were a good deal stared at, but not disagreeably, for all the soldiers were on their best behaviour. At Khaila and Sief we had to be tied up, airless, in our tents, as if we left them open a minute when the crowd, tired of seeing nothing, had dispersed, and one person saw an opening, the whole multitude surged round again, pressing in, shouting and smelling so bad that we regretted our folly in having tried to get a little light and air. We saw among others a boy who had a wound in his arm, and therefore had his nostrils plugged up; bad smells are said not to be so injurious as good ones. Some women came and asked to see me, so I took my chair and sat surrounded by them. They begged to see my hands, so I took off my gloves and let them lift my hands about from one sticky hand to another. They looked wonderingly at them and said 'Meskin' so often and so pityingly that I am sure they thought I had leprosy all over. Then they wished to see my head, and having taken off my hat, my hair had to be taken down. They examined my shoes, turned up my gaiters, stuck their fingers down my collar, and wished to undress me, so I rose and said very civilly, 'Peace to you, oh women, I am going to sleep now,' and retired. Arab girls before they enter the harem and take the veil are a curious sight to behold. Their bodies and faces are dyed a bright yellow with turmeric; on this ground they paint black lines with antimony, over their eyes; the fashionable colour for the nose is red; green spots adorn the cheek, and the general aspect is grotesque beyond description. We stayed in bed really late next morning, till the sun rose, and then prepared ourselves to be fetched. [Illustration: THE CASTLE OF THE SULTAN OF SHIBAHM AT AL KOTON] The two young wazirs, Salim-bin-Ali and Salim-bin-Abdullah, cousins, came again at 7.30 with two extra horses, which were ridden by my husband and Saleh, as Imam Sharif stuck to the donkey which we named Mahsoud (Happy). CHAPTER X OUR SOJOURN AT KOTON Like a fairy palace of the Arabian Nights, white as a wedding cake, and with as many battlements and pinnacles, with its windows painted red, the colour being made from red sandstone, and its balustrades decorated with the inevitable chevron pattern, the castle of Al Koton rears its battlemented towers above the neighbouring brown houses and expanse of palm groves; behind it rise the steep red rocks of the encircling mountains, the whole forming a scene of Oriental beauty difficult to describe in words. This lovely building, shining in the morning light against the dark precipitous mountains, was pointed out to us as our future abode. My horse, Basha, seemed to have come to life again and enjoy galloping once more, for we had left the servants, camels, &c. to follow. As we approached _feux de joie_ announced our arrival, and at his gate stood Sultan Salàh to greet us, clad in a long robe of canary-coloured silk, and with a white silk turban twisted around his swarthy brow. He was a large, stout man, negroid in type, for his mother was a slave, and as generous as he was large, to Arab and European alike. He looked about fifty-five or sixty, but said his age was 'forty-five or forty.' At first, on being seated in his reception-room, we were very cautious in speaking of our plans, as we were surrounded with all sorts and conditions of men. He placed at our disposal a room spread with Daghestan carpets and cushions, furnished with two tables and three chairs, and not a mouthful of our own food would he allow us to touch, a hospitality which had its drawbacks, for the Arab _cuisine_ is not one suited to Western palates. We were very glad of this hospitality at first as it would give Matthaios a holiday, which he could devote to the washing of clothes, water being so plentiful. I will describe one day's meals, which were invariably the same. At eight o'clock came several cups, all containing coffee and milk, honey, eggs, hard boiled and peeled, and a large thin leathery kind of bread made plain with water, and another large thin kind made with _ghi_, and like pastry. About 2.30 came two bowls like slop-bowls, one containing bits of meat, vegetables, eggs and spices in sauce, under about an inch of melted _ghi_, the other a kind of soup. They were both quite different, but at the same time very much alike, and the grease on the top kept them furiously hot. There were little pieces of boiled lamb, and little pieces of roast lamb; tiny balls of roast meat and also of boiled; a mound of rice and a mound of dates; and upon requesting some water we were given one large glassful. Identically the same meal came at 9.30, an hour when the _bona-fide_ traveller pines to be in his bed. These things were laid on a very dirty coloured cotton cloth, but no plates or knives, &c. were provided. At several odd times through the day a slave walked in and filled several cups of tea, a few for each of us. The cups were never washed by him. After struggling for a few days, many of the party having had recourse to the medicine-chest, we were at length compelled humbly to crave his majesty to allow us to employ our own cook. This he graciously permitted, and during the three weeks we passed under his hospitable roof, our cook was daily supplied by the 'sultanas'--most excellent housewives we thought them--with everything we needed. One of the most striking features of these Arabian palaces is the wood-carving. The doors are exquisitely decorated with it, the supporting beams, and the windows, which are adorned with fretwork instead of glass. The dwelling-rooms are above, the ground floor being exclusively used for merchandise and as stables and cattle stalls, and the first floor for the domestic offices. The men-servants lie about in the passages. We lived on the second floor, the two next stories were occupied by the sultan and his family, and above was the terraced roof where the family sleep during the summer heat. Every guest-room has its coffee corner, provided with a carved oven, where the grain is roasted and the water boiled; around are hung old china dishes for spices, brass trays for the cups, and fans to keep off the flies; also the carved censers, in which frankincense is burnt and handed round to the guests, each one of whom fumigates his garments with it before passing it on. It is also customary to fumigate with frankincense a tumbler before putting water into it, a process we did not altogether relish, as it imparts a sickly flavour to the fluid. We found the system of door-fastening in vogue a great nuisance to us. The wooden locks were of the 'tumbler' order. The keys were about 10 inches long, and composed of a piece of curved wood: at one end were a number of pegs stuck in irregularly, to correspond with a number of the tumbling bolts which they were destined to raise. No key would go in without a tremendous lot of shaking and noisy rattling, and you always had to have your key with you, for if you did not lock your door on leaving your room there was nothing to prevent its swinging open; and if you were inside you must rise and unbolt it to admit each person, and to bolt it behind him for the same reason. We got very friendly with Sultan Salàh during our long stay under his roof, and he would come and sit for hours together in our room and talk over his affairs. Little by little he was told of all our sufferings by the way, and was very angry. We also consulted him as to our plans, and told him how badly Saleh was behaving. We used sometimes to think of dismissing Saleh, but thought him too dangerous to part with. It was better to keep him under supervision, and leave him as much in the dark as possible about our projects. The sultan took special interest in our pursuits, conducting us in person to archæological sites, and manifesting a laudable desire to have his photograph taken. He assisted both our botanist and naturalist in pursuing their investigations into the somewhat limited flora and fauna of his dominions, and was told by Imam Sharif that his work with the sextant was connected with keeping our watches to correct time. He would freely discourse, too, on his own domestic affairs, giving us anything but a pleasing picture of Arab harem life, which he described as 'a veritable hell.' Whenever he saw me reading, working with my needle, or developing photographs, he would smile sadly, and contrast my capabilities with those of his own wives, who, as he expressed it, 'are unable to do anything but painting themselves and quarrelling.' Poor Sultan Salàh has had twelve wives in his day, and he assured us that their dissensions and backbitings had made him grow old before his time; his looking so old must be put down to the cares of polygamy. At Al Koton the sultan had at that time only two properly acknowledged wives, whom he wisely kept apart; his chief wife, or 'sultana,' was sister to the sultan of Makalla, and the sultan of Makalla is married to a daughter of Sultan Salàh by another wife; in this way do Arabic relationships get hopelessly confused. The influence of the wife at Al Koton was considerable, and he was obviously in awe of her, so much so that when he wanted to visit his other wife he had to invent a story of pressing business at Shibahm. 'Our wives,' said he one day, 'are like servants, and try to get all they can out of us; they have no interest in their husband's property, as they know they may be sent away at any time.' And in this remark he seems to have properly hit off the chief evil of polygamy. He also told us that, having got all they can from one husband, they go off to a man that is richer, though how they make these arrangements, if they stick to their veils, is a mystery to me. Then again, he would continually lament over the fanaticism and folly of his fellow-countrymen, more especially the priestly element, who systematically oppose all his attempts at introducing improvements from civilised countries into the Hadhramout. The seyyids and the mollahs dislike him; the former, who trace their descent from the daughter of Mohammed, forming a sort of hierarchical nobility in this district; and on several occasions he has been publicly cursed in the mosques as an unbeliever and friend of the infidel. But Sultan Salàh has money which he made in India, and owns property in Bombay; consequently he has the most important weapon to wield that anyone can have in a Semitic country. The sultan told us a famous plan they have in this country for making a fortune. Two Hadhrami set out for India together, a father and son, or two brothers. They collect enough money before starting to buy a very fine suit of clothes each, and to start trade in a small way. They then increase the business by credit, and when they have got enough of other people's money into their hands, one departs with it to the inaccessible Hadhramout, while the other waits to hear of his safe arrival, and then he goes bankrupt and follows him. Sultan Salàh had not a high opinion of his countrymen, and told us several other tales that did not redound to their credit. 'Before I went to India I was a rascal (_harami_) like these men here,' he constantly asseverated, and his love for things Indian and English is unbounded. 'If only the Indian Government would send me a Mohammedan doctor here, I would pay his expenses, and his influence, both political and social, would be most beneficial to this country.' It is certainly a great thing for England to have so firm a friend in the centre of the narrow habitable district between Aden and Maskat, which ought by rights to be ours, not that it is a very profitable country to possess, but in the hands of another power it might unpleasantly affect our road to India, and in complying with this simple request of Sultan Salàh's an easy way is open to us for extending our influence in that direction. Likewise from a humane point of view, this suggestion of Sultan Salàh's is of great value, for the inhabitants of the Hadhramout are more hopelessly ignorant of things medical than some of the savage tribes of Africa. Certain quacks dwell in the towns, and profess to diagnose the ailments of a Bedou woman by smelling one of her hairs brought by her husband. For every pain, no matter where, they brand the patient with a red-hot iron (_kayya_); to relieve a person who has eaten too much fat, they will light a fire round him to melt it; to heal a wound they will plug up the nostrils of the sufferer, believing that certain scents are noxious to the sore; the pleasant scents being the most harmful. Iron pounded up by a blacksmith is also a medicine. On an open sore they tie a sheet of iron, tin, or copper with four holes in the corners for strings. We heard of the curious case of a man who for a wager ate all the fat of a sheep that was killed at a pilgrimage. He lay down to sleep under a shady tree and all the fat congealed in his inside. The doctor ordered him to drink hot tea, while fires were lit all around him, and thus he was cured and was living in Shibahm when we were there. We had a crowd of patients to treat whilst stationed at Al Koton, and I have entered quantities of quaint experiences with these poor helpless invalids in my note-book. We had many an interesting stroll round the sultan's gardens at Al Koton, and watched the cultivation of spices and vegetables for the royal table, or rather floor; the lucerne and clover for his cattle, the indigo and henna for dyeing purposes, and the various kinds of grain. But on the cultivation of the date-palm the most attention is lavished; it was just then the season at which the female spathe has to be fructified by the male pollen, and we were interested in watching a man going round with an apron full of male spathes. With these he climbed the stem of the female palm, and with a knife cut open the bark which encircles the female spathe, and as he shook the male pollen over it he chanted in a low voice, 'May God make you grow and be fruitful.' No portion of the palm is wasted in the Hadhramout: with the leaves they thatch huts and make fences, the date stones are ground into powder as food for cattle, and they eat the nutty part which grows at the bottom of the spathes, and which they called _kourzan_. On a journey a man requires nothing but a skin of dates, which will last him for days, and, when we left, Sultan Salàh gave us three goat-skins filled with his best dates, and large tins of delicious honey--for which the Hadhramout was celebrated as far back as Pliny's time[11]--which he sent on camels to the coast for us, as well as a large inscribed stone that I now have in my house. Innumerable wells are dotted over this cultivated area, the water from which is distributed over the fields before sunrise and after sunset. The delicious creaking noise made by heaving up the buckets greeted us every morning when we woke, delicious because it betokened plenty of water: and these early morning views were truly exquisite. A bright crimson tinge would gradually creep over the encircling mountains, making the parts in shade of a rich purple hue, against which the feathery palm-trees and whitewashed castles stood out in strong contrast. All the animals belonging to the sultan are stabled within the encircling wall, and immediately beneath the palace windows; the horses' stable is in the open courtyard, where they are fed with rich lucerne and dates when we should give corn. Here also reside the cows and bullocks, which are fed every evening by women, who tie together bunches of dried grass and make it appetising by mixing therewith a few blades of fresh lucerne; the sheep and the goats are penned on another side, whilst the cocks and hens live in and around the main drain. All is truly patriarchal in character. The sultan only possesses four horses, and one of these, a large white mare, strangely enough came from the Cape of Good Hope, _viâ_ Durban and Bombay. The sultan of Makalla had three. The 'Arab courser' lives farther north. As for the soldiers, they sent, as if it were a matter of course, for some money to buy tobacco and were given two or three dollars each, and we gladly parted from them friends. The sultan of Makalla had paid them for a fortnight's food, and had written to Sultan Salàh to pay what was owing. My groom was dismissed also without bakshish: he was only a rough fellow taken from the mud brick works at Makalla, and my poor Basha would have fared ill if really dependent on M'barrek for care. My entreaties alone saved him from being publicly bastinadoed, as the sultan wished, when he heard of all his rudeness and disobedience. The sultan was most anxious to arrange for our onward journey, and wrote seven letters to different sheikhs and sultans, and sent them to us to read, but we could not read them ourselves, and would not let Saleh, so we were none the wiser. The sultans of Siwoun and Terim are brothers, of the Kattiri tribe, but have no real authority outside their towns. We were anxious to proceed along the Hadhramout valley and to reach the tomb of the prophet Houd. The sultan also went to Shibahm to meet some of the arbiters of our fate, and the sultan of Siwoun agreed to let us pass: but others said we had five hundred camels loaded with arms, and all sorts of other fables, and they all quarrelled dreadfully about us, so the sultan returned to Al Koton to await replies to his letters. The day the sultan was absent, the women were determined to have a little enjoyment from our presence themselves, so a great many servants came bringing the sultan's ten-year-old daughter Sheikha, a rather pretty little girl, with long earrings all round her ears, which, like all the other women's, hang forward like fringed bells. An uneven number is always worn, and a good set consists of twenty-three. They are rings about two inches in diameter, with long drops attached. Her face was painted with large dots, stripes, and patterns of various colours, and she had thick antimony round the eyes. Her neck, arms, and shoulders were yellow, and her hands painted plain black inside and in a pattern like a lace mitten on the back, the nails being red with henna. I was also asked to pay a visit to the ladies. I went upstairs. Every floor is like a flat, with its bath-room containing a huge vase called _kazbah_, and the bath is taken by pouring over the person, from a smaller utensil, water which runs away down drain-holes to the wooden spouts. I found myself in some very narrow passages, among a quantity of not over-clean women, who all seized me by the shoulders, passing me on from one to the other till I reached a very large carpeted room, with pillows round it, some very large looking-glasses and a chandelier. I advanced across the room amid loud exclamations from the seated ladies, and was pointed out a position in front of the two principal ones, who were seated against the wall--one was the chief wife of the sultan, and the other a daughter married to a seyyid, whose hand his father-in-law must always kiss. He is a very disagreeable-looking man, who was much offended because Imam Sharif would neither kiss his hand, being a seyyid himself, nor let his own be kissed. I squatted down, and round me soon squatted many more ladies--they were certainly not beautiful, but one, who was nearest to me and seemed to be my guardian or showman, had a very nice, kind, clever face. Her lips were not so large as most. We seemed all to be presided over, as we literally were, by a kind of confidential maid, who sat on the little raised hearth in the corner, amongst all the implements for the making of coffee and burning of incense, chanting constantly: 'Salek alleh Mohammed' and something more, of which I can only remember that it was about the faith. Sometimes she was quiet a little, and then, above all the din, she raised her shout, accompanying it with an occasional single loud blow with a stone pestle and mortar. There was no difficulty about seeing the gold anklets the ladies wore, for their clothes, as they sat, were well above their knees. Their feet were painted like fanciful black slippers with lace edges. Their examination of me was very searching, even reaching smelling point, and I feel sure I was being exorcised, for so much was being said about Mohammed. At last an old lady said to me, 'There is no god but God!' with which I agreed, and murmurs of satisfaction went round, while she nodded her head triumphantly. Later on she pointed to the ceiling, and asked if I considered this was the direction in which Allah dwells, and seemed glad when I agreed. Of course no infidel would, she thought. Presently the woman who had prepared the frankincense brought it down in a small chafing dish, continuing the same chant and handing it round. I wondered if I should be left out, or left till the last, but neither happened, and when my turn came, like the rest, I held my head and hands over the fumes, and we were all fumigated inside our garments. I may have been partaking in some unholy rite, but my ignorance will be my excuse, I hope. I was then told I might go, which I was glad of, as I had been afraid to offend them by going too soon. I was asked, as I left, if I should like to see their jewellery; of course I said 'Yes,' and had hardly got home and recovered from the deafening row, when I was fetched again. There were crowds more women of all classes, clean and dirty, and as they came trooping in to see me, the room seemed to resound with the twittering sound of their kisses, for the incoming visitor kissed the sitter's hand, while the sitter kissed her own, and there was kissing of foreheads besides. Numerous little baskets were brought in with immense quantities of gold ornaments, some very heavy, but with few gems in them--absolutely none of value. They consisted of coral, onyx, a few bad turquoises, crooked pearls, and many false stones. Everything was of Indian work. Sheikha came in in a silk dress with a tremendous, much-alloyed silver girdle, and loaded with chains and bracelets of all sorts, clanking and clashing as she came. We had very good coffee with ginger and cloves in it, and at this time there was a very great deal of religious conversation and argument, and as they were exciting themselves I thought I would go, for I did not feel very comfortable; but the chief lady said to me, in a very threatening and dictatorial voice: 'La illaha il Allah! Mohammed resoul Allah.' I looked as much like an idiot as I could, and pretended neither to notice nor understand, but I was patted and shaken up by all that were near-enough neighbours to do so, and desired to look at that lady. Again she said 'La illaha il Allah' in the same tone, and I was told I must repeat it. So she said the first part again in a firm tone, and I cheerfully repeated after her, 'There is no god but God.' Then she continued, 'Mohammed is his prophet.' I remained dumb. Then the name of Issa (Jesus) went round, and I bowed my head. The coffee woman then called out, 'Issa was a prophet before Mohammed.' They then asked me if Issa was my prophet. I could only say that He is, for my Arabic would not allow of a further profession of my faith. I gladly departed and gave Sheikha afterwards two sovereigns for her necklace. They said they would show me their clothes, but they never did. I have described the shape of these dresses, but I omitted to say that they are gaily trimmed with a kind of ribbon about two inches wide, made of little square bits of coloured silks and cottons sewn together. This is put round the armholes, over the shoulder, and down to the hem of the garment over the seam, where a curious gusset or gore runs from the front part to the corner of the train. The dress is trimmed round the neck, which is cut square and rather low, and generally hangs off one shoulder, and, across the breast it is much embroidered, beads and spangles being sometimes introduced. These women seem to live in a perpetual noise: they gurgled loudly when we arrived, and we could always hear them playing the tambourine. Tiny girls wear, as their only garment, a fringe of plaits as in Nubia, and their heads are shaven in grotesque patterns, or their hair done in small plaits. Boys have their heads shaven also, all except locks of long hair dotted about in odd places. I never saw such dreadful objects as the women make of themselves by painting their faces. When they lift their veils one would hardly think them human. I saw eyes painted to resemble blue and red fish, with their heads pointing to the girl's nose. The upper part of the face was yellow, the lower green with small black spots, a green stripe down the nose, the nostrils like two red cherries, the paint being shiny. Three red stripes were on the forehead, and there was a red moustache, there being also green stripes on the yellow cheeks. There was a delightful, tiny room on the roof, just a little place to take and make coffee in, and we were allowed to clamber up to this, but not without calling a slave and assuring ourselves that there was no danger of my husband meeting any of the ladies, for it commanded the roof, to which we had not access. We liked going up there very much, for the views were splendid, and we could see down into the mosque, which is built like cloisters, open in the middle. I took some photographs from there, and also, with the greatest difficulty, managed to get one of the room itself by tying my camera, without its legs, of course, with a rope to the outside of the fretwork frame of the little window, which was on a level with the floor. It was hard work not to be in the way myself, as I had to put both arms out of the next window to take out the slides, and to guess at the focus. The sultan, though his Hindustani was getting a trifle rusty, said he greatly liked the company of Imam Sharif, whose uncle had in some way befriended him in India. Intelligent conversation he had not enjoyed for a long time. He was certainly a little scandalised at Imam Sharif's lax ways in religion, for he was one day sitting without his turban when some coffee was brought. The sultan put his hands up to cover Imam Sharif's head, saying: 'My brother, you are drinking with a bare head, and this is contrary to the Koran.' The same remark was often made in camp by people who looked into his tent. They said, 'Look! he is a Christian, his head is bare.' At the same time no one thought anything of the Bedouin's bare heads. During this period of uncertainty we made several little explorations of the surrounding valleys. One day we started out with the sultan, who had on his long coat, which made him look like a huge, sulphur-coloured canary. It was lined with light blue. He, my husband, Saleh, and a groom rode the four horses; Imam Sharif and I had our Basha and Mahsoud, and a camel most smartly decorated carried the Wazir Salim-bin-Abdullah and a soldier; other soldiers followed on foot. We went about five miles to Al Agran to see some ruins perched on a rock beneath the high wall of the plateau, prettily situated with palms, gardens, and wells. The ruins, which are those of a well-built fortress, consist of little more than the foundation, but all embedded in modern houses, so that excavations would be impossible. It must once have been a place of considerable importance. There was a scrap of very well cut ornament, which looked as if it might have belonged to a temple. It was from Al Agran or Algran that we obtained a stone with a spout to it, with rather a long Sabæan inscription on it, a dedication to the god Sayan, known to have been worshipped in the Hadhramout. We were given coffee in a very dirty room, which we were all the time longing to tear down that we might dig under it. [Illustration: THE CASTLE OF THE SULTAN OF MAKALLA AT SHIBAHM] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 11: Pliny, vi. 28, § 161: 'Mellis ceraeque proventu.'] CHAPTER XI THE WADI SER AND KABR SALEH On January 17 we started from Al Koton with only seven of our camels and two of the sultan's packed with forage, to be away several days. The sultan wished to lend his horses, but my husband refused. However, he had to ride one, a grey, for fear of giving offence, and this was given to him as a present afterwards, and he rode it whenever the rocks allowed till we reached the coast. We eventually sent this horse, Zubda (butter), and my Basha back to their respective donors, though they really expected us to take them to Aden. We had two men of the Nahad tribe as our _siyara_. Our start took a very long time, for the sultan, attended by many people, came a mile on foot. We travelled four hours and a half, partly through land that would have been cultivated had there been rain, and partly through salt desert, till we turned north-west into the Wadi Ser, where there is a sandy desert. From the entrance to Wadi Ser we could see Shibahm in the distance, an unpromising looking spot among sandhills. We were all able to find shelter at Hanya under an enormous thorny _b'dom_ tree covered with fruit, and we felt like birds out of a cage, for we never could walk out at Al Koton without a crowd, and the greasiness and spiciness of the food was beginning to pall. We had a delightful camp, but had to be very careful not to drop things in the sand, as they so quickly disappeared. We had a new man called Iselem, who was to take care of the horses, pluck chickens, and help in pitching the camp. His wonder at the unfolding and setting up of the beds, chairs, &c., was great. There was also an old man called Haidar Aboul. He and one of the soldiers could talk Hindustani, so with Imam Sharif's help we were somewhat independent of Saleh, though we had thought it necessary to bring him, to keep him from working us harm. We continued our way up the Wadi Ser for about five hours and camped at Al Had in a field near a house, close to some high banks which radiated intense heat, and suffered the more that we had to wait a long time for the tea that we always had with our luncheon, as our water had been stolen in the night. We always tried to save some to carry on and start with next day, fearing we might fare worse in the next place we came to. The well at this spot is the last water in this direction, for we were reaching the confines of the great central desert. Wadi Ser, being such a waste of sand, is very sparsely populated. The Bedouin here, like the Turkomans, live in scattered abodes, little groups of two or three houses dotted about, and solitary homesteads. It belongs to the Kattiri tribe, who are at war with the Yafei. They once owned Sheher and Makalla and took Al Koton, but in a war in 1874 the Yafei were supported by the English; hence their friendship for England. The animosity still continues and there is little intercourse between Siwoun and Shibahm, though only twelve miles apart. The Kattiri have more of the Bedou about them and the Yafei have more of the Arab. Our _siyar_ was twenty-five dollars. The people were preparing for rain, which may never come; they had had none for two years, but if they get it every three years they are satisfied, as they get a sufficient crop. As it comes in torrents and with a rush, each field is provided with a dyke and a dam, which they cut to let the water off. This dyke is made by a big scraper, like a dustpan, called _mis'hap_, harnessed by chains to a camel or bullocks. The camel goes over the existing bank and when the dustpan reaches the summit the men in attendance upset the surface sand or soil, that has been scraped off, and carry the scraper down. When this is done the field is lightly ploughed; there is nothing more to do except to sit and wait for rain. We saw signs of great floods in some parts. Whenever we found ruins still visible in or near the Hadhramout we found them on elevated spots above the sand level, from which we may argue that all centres of civilisation in the middle of the valleys lie deeply buried in sand, which has come down in devastating masses from the highland and the central desert. The nature of the sand in this district is twofold. Firstly we have the _loess_ or firm sand, which can be cultivated; and secondly the disintegrated desert sand, which forms itself into heaps and causes sandstorms when the wind is high. The mountains diminish in height the farther north one goes. The character of the valleys is pretty much the same as that of those to the south of the main valley, only they are narrower and much lower, and thus the deep indenture of the valley system of the Hadhramout gradually fades away into the vast expanse of the central desert. The wazir had been given a bag of money to buy fowls and lambs for us, but Saleh came and said, 'The wazir wants some money for a lamb,' so it was sent and returned. It had not been asked for and caused some offence, but that odious little wretch only wished to make mischief. The Bedouin are rather clever at impromptu verses, and when we were in Wadi Ser they made night hideous by dancing in our camp. The performers ranged themselves in two rows, as in Sir Roger de Coverley; time is kept by a drum and by perpetual hand-clapping and stamping of the feet, whilst two men execute elaborate capers in the centre, singing as they do so such words as these: 'The ship has come from Europe with merchandise; they shot at the minaret with a thousand cannon.' Bedouin women also take part in these dances, and the Arabs think the dances very impious; it was very weird by the light of the moon and the camp-fire, but wearisome when we wanted to sleep, particularly as they kept it up till after we were all astir in the morning, yelling, bawling, singing, and screeching, Iselem being the ringleader. The ground was shaken as if horses were galloping about. A Bedou was playing a flute made of two leg-bones of a crane bound together with iron. At a distance of half an hour from our camp there is a stone with an inscription. This was visited on the day of our arrival, but we went again next day that I might photograph it, very difficult in the position in which it is. It is a great rough boulder about 10 feet high, that has slipped down from the mountain, with large rough Sabæan letters just punched on the surface, of no depth, but having a whitish appearance. The letters run in every direction--sometimes side by side, sometimes in columns. The central and most important word which my husband was able to make out, with the help of Professor Hommels' admirable dictionary of hitherto ascertained Himyaritic words, is _Masabam_ or Caravan road. The stone seemed to be a kind of sign-post; for as the old Bedou sheikh who was with us said, there was in olden days, about 500 years ago, a caravan road this way to Mecca, before the Bahr-Safi made it impassable. The Bahr-Safi is a quicksand, north of Shabwa, but none of those present had been there, and they all laughed at Von Wrede's story of King Safi and his army being engulfed in it. The Bedou sheikh with his retinue came to see that we took no treasure out of the stone. There are a good many old stones built into the side of the stream-bed. Having taken a copy and a photograph, which my husband sent later to Dr. D. H. Müller, in Vienna, to decipher, we departed. We were told that the Wadi Ser goes four hours from that stone to the great desert. We then turned back and followed our _kafila_ to Alagoum, at the junction of Wadi Ser and the Wadi Latat, about two hours' journey. Alagoum is a large cluster of high houses, surrounded by stables and houses excavated in the sandhills, where the inhabitants and their cattle live in hot weather. This is quite an idea suited to the Bedouin, who live in caves, when they can find them. The Bedouin in Southern Arabia never have tents. We found that Saleh had joined the camel-men in resisting our own people, who wanted to encamp under trees. They had unloaded in the open and Saleh and Iselem had then retired into the village till the tents were pitched, so, as we were to remain in this place two days, we had them moved. We had by this time some of the Kattiri tribe with us as _siyara_. At Al Garun the Wadi Ser is entered by a short collateral valley called the Wadi Khonab, in which valley is the tomb of the prophet Saleh, one of the principal sacred places of the district. Kabr Saleh is equally venerated with the Kabr Houd, also called the tomb of the prophet Eber (for, from what we could gather from the statements of intelligent natives, Eber and Houd are synonymous terms) which is to be found in the Tamimi country further up the main valley. The prophet Houd was sent to reclaim the tribe of Ad. The Mahra tribe are descended from a remnant of the Addites, as also are the Hadhrami, according to the legends. Once a man named Kolabeh, when seeking for camels came upon the beautiful garden of Irem-Dhatul-Imad, which is supposed to have been in the desert near Aden; he found and brought away a priceless jewel which came into possession of the first Ommiad Caliph Nourrijaht. Those who embraced Islamism on the preaching of the prophet Houd were spared, but the rest either were suffocated by a stifling wind or survived in the form of apes, whose descendants still inhabit Jebel Shemshan at Aden. A remnant are also said to have fled to the Kuria Muria Islands. We again met with considerable opposition from the Bedouin and our escort when we proposed to visit the Kabr Saleh next day. However, this was overcome by threats of reporting the opposition to Sultan Salàh on our return to Al Koton. So next morning we started. The sultan of Shibahm's people were just as anxious to go as we were, for they were delighted to get the chance of making this pilgrimage to so holy a place, which being in an enemies' country they could not have done but for our escort. A short ride of two hours brought us nearly to the head of the Wadi Khonab, and there, situated just under the cliff, in an open wilderness, is the celebrated tomb. It consists simply of a long uncovered pile of stones, somewhat resembling a potato-pie, with a headstone at either end, and a collection of fossils from the neighbouring mountains arranged along the top. Hard by is a small house where the pilgrims take their coffee, and the house of the Bedou mollah, who looks after the tomb, is about a quarter of a mile off. Beyond this there is no habitation in sight. A more desolate spot could hardly be found. The tomb is from 30 to 40 feet in length, and one of the legends concerning it is that it never is the same length, sometimes being a few feet shorter, sometimes a few feet longer. The Bedouin have endless legends concerning this prophet. He was a huge giant, they said, the father of the prophet Houd, or Eber; he created camels out of the rock, and hence is especially dear to the wandering Bedou; and he still works miracles, for if even unwittingly anyone removes a stone from this grave, it exhibits symptoms of life, and gives the possessor much discomfort until it is returned. Once a domed building was erected over the tomb, but the prophet manifested his dislike of being thus inclosed and it was removed. Men are said to go blind if they steal anything connected with the tomb; once a man took a cup from the coffee-house, unaware of the danger he incurred, tied it to his girdle, and carried it off. It stuck to him till he restored it. Another man took a stone away and gave it to his children to play with, but it hopped about till taken back again. At the time of the _ziara_ or pilgrimage which takes place in November, crowds of Bedouin, we were told, come from all the valleys and hills around to worship. All our men treated the grave with the greatest respect, and said their prayers around it barefoot. I do not know what they would have done to Imam Sharif if he had not comported himself as the others did, so that wretched man had to walk barefoot all round on the sharp stones, and thus we obtained the measurements. He got dreadfully pricked by thorns and coveted the fossils very much. The stones of which the tomb is composed are about the size of cannon-balls, and look just as if newly put together and quite weedless. People stroke the upright stone at the head and then rub their hands on their breast and kiss them, and do the same at the foot. The wazir would have led us up close to it; but the Bedouin hated our being there at all, and would by no means let us sleep there, as we wished to do. We overheard our horrid little Saleh Hassan telling the bystanders that we live on pork. When we first got there, we were permitted to approach within a few yards of the tomb, so that we saw it very distinctly; but when, after eating our luncheon, and taking a siesta under a tree, we again advanced to inspect it, the Bedou mollah attacked us with fierce and opprobrious language, and, fearing further to arouse the fanaticism of these wild people, we speedily mounted our horses and rode away. We hoped to be able to visit Kabr Houd, the tomb of Nebi Saleh's son, in the main valley, but, as it will appear, we were to be disappointed. I am told, on reliable Arab authority, that it is similar in every way to the Kabr Saleh--just a long pile of stones, about 40 feet in length, uncovered, and with its adjacent mosque. These two primitive tombs of their legendary prophets, zealously guarded and venerated by the Bedouin, are a peculiar and interesting feature of the Hadhramout. It is a curious fact that when one turns to the tenth chapter of Genesis (the best record we have of the earliest populations of our globe) we find the patriarchal names Salah, Eber, and Hazarmaveth (which last, as I previously stated, corresponds to Hadhramout) following one another in their order, though not in immediate sequence. I am at a loss to account for these names being still venerated by the Bedouin, unless one admits a continuity of legendary history almost too wonderful to contemplate, or else one must consider that they were heathen sites of veneration, which have, under Moslem influence, been endowed with orthodox names. Certain it is that these tombs in the midst of the wilderness are peculiarly the property of the Bedouin, and, though visited, and to a certain extent venerated, by the Arabs, the latter do not attach so much importance to them as they do to the tombs of their own walis or saints, which are always covered tombs, near or in the centre of the towns. Another curious point I may mention in connection with these tombs is that the Arab historian, Yaqut, in his 'Mu'gam,'[12] tells us of a god in the Hadhramout, called Al Galsad, who was a gigantic man; perhaps this god may have some connection with the giant tombs of Saleh and Eber. Also Makrisi, who wrote in the tenth century, a.d., speaks of a giant's grave he saw near Shabwa. Near Al Agoum we saw a quantity of very ancient stone monuments, situated on slightly elevated ground, above the sand. At first we imagined them to be tombs, but on closer inspection we discovered that the erections, which are large unhewn ones of the cromlech type, are decorated inside with geometric patterns somewhat similar to those we found in the Mashonaland ruins, and therefore my husband was more inclined to believe they were originally used for religious purposes. There are traces of letters above the pattern. The buildings are about 20 feet square and several are surrounded by circular walls. They are apparently of extreme antiquity, and doubtless far anterior in date to any other Himyaritic remains that we saw in the Hadhramout. The wazir joined us as usual on our return from Kabr Saleh, as we sat outside our tent in the moonlight with Imam Sharif and the Indian interpreters, and we had a pleasant evening. We were perfectly charmed to see great preparations for sleep going on among the Bedouin. We thought they really must be tired after dancing the whole night and walking the whole day. They were busy putting themselves to bed in graves which they dug in the loose dust, not sand; turbans, girdles, and so forth being turned into bedclothes. Just as they were still Iselem began capering about and they all got up shouting and screaming, but the wazir, seeing my distress, with the greatest difficulty quieted them, as he did when they broke out again at three o'clock in the morning. It took us six hours the following day to ride back to Al Koton, where, not being expected, we could not get a meal of even bread, honey, and dates for about an hour and a half, and then had to wait till we were very sleepy indeed for supper. We endured great hunger that day. Salim-bin-Ali, the other wazir, had not come with us because he was not well. The day of our reception, in curvetting about, he fell from his horse and had suffered various pains ever since. The sultan had had another stone brought for us from Al Gran; we did not care to take this away as it had very little writing on it, only [Symbol: script] (_al amin_, to the protection). It is circular, 1 foot 4½ inches in diameter, 2½ inches high, made of coarse marble. We saw a similar circular stone at Raidoun. The wildest reports were going about as to the water-stone we already had. It was almost the cause of an insurrection against the sultan of Shibahm. They said 'It was very wrong to give that stone to a "gavir"'--as they call us (for all the _k_'s are pronounced _g_)--'only think of our carelessly letting him have it. The Englishman has taken fifteen jewels of gold and gems out of it,' and named a high value. 'You are sure of this?' said the sultan to the ringleader. 'Oh, yes! quite certain!' he said. So the sultan led him to our room, where the stone was, and said: 'Do you know the stone again? Look closely at it. Has anything happened to it but a washing?' The man looked extremely small. They said my husband's only business was to extract gold from stones. It is extraordinary how widespread this belief is. It is firmly rooted in Greece. Many a statue and inscription has been shivered to atoms because of it, and our interest in inscriptions was constantly attributed to a wish to find out treasure. We once saw two men in Asia Minor industriously boring away into a column--to find gold they told us. They already had made a hole about 8 inches deep and 4 or 5 inches wide. They think that the ancients had a way of softening marble with acid. We had again at this time a great many patients; for, as we really had effected some cures the first time we were at Al Koton, our fame had spread. We always had Matthaios and Imam Sharif to help us to elicit the symptoms, and also to consult with as to the cures, because some remedies which suit Europeans were by no means suited to the circumstances of our patients. For instance, the worst coughs I ever heard were very prevalent, but it would be useless to ask the sick to take a hot footbath and stay in bed. The one blue garment, which in different shapes was all the men and women wore, was little protection from the chill of the evening. The women's dresses were always hanging off their backs; and the men, who had each two pieces of thick blue cotton about 2 yards long by 1½ yard wide, with fringes half a yard long, wore one as a permanent petticoat and the other as a girdle by day and when cold as a shawl, often put on in a very uncomfortable way--thrown on in front and left hanging open behind--forming no protection to the back of the lungs. The poor little baby, aged fifteen months, of the Wazir Salim-bin-Abdullah was brought shrieking in agony, gnawing hard at its emaciated little arms, and all covered with sores. Our hearts were wrung at this wretched sight and we longed to help; we even thought of giving it part of a drop of chlorodyne much diluted, but, fortunately for us, dared not do so, for my husband said to them, 'I do not think the child will live long.' It mercifully was released in a few hours. Then an old man came who 'had a flame in his inside.' My husband examined him and decided that he had an abscess, and, to please him, gave him a dessertspoonful of borax and honey, which he swept up with his finger, and I suppose it did relieve him, for after some minutes he said: 'The fire is gone out.' It grieved us sorely when poor souls came to us so hopefully and so confident of help, with a withered arm or an empty eye-socket. Some with less serious complaints than these last we recommended to go to Aden hospital, a building of which we never thought at that time we should be inmates ourselves. We found the ladies, to whom a plentiful supply of violent pills had been administered, were better, but the sultan, who had an attack of indigestion, had to be taken in hand at once by us doctors. His wife required a tonic, so we got out some citrate of iron and quinine, a bright, shiny, greenish-yellow, flaky thing, which Imam Sharif assured us would be more beneficial and better liked if shown and admired as gold; so after some conversation about pious frauds, I packed the medicine up neatly and wrote in ornamental letters 'Golden Health Giver,' and this name being explained and translated gave great satisfaction. We were glad to be able to give the kind sultan a new bottle of quinine--more acceptable than gold. While we were away Mahmoud had found two little hedgehogs. One was dead and stuffed; the other we kept alive for some time and it always liked to creep into my clothes and go to sleep--I suppose because I never teased it. In the little book of directions for zoological collectors we saw, that 'little is known of the reproduction of lizards, so special attention is to be paid,' &c. Mahmoud had brought me two little fragile eggs to keep, about half an inch long, and I had put them in a match-box with tow and packed them in my trunk, and on my return to Al Koton I found two little lizards about 1¼ inch long, one alive and the other dead. Both had to be pickled, as we did not understand how to bring so small a lizard up by hand. They proved to be new to science, as was also a large lizard we had found near Haura, whose peculiarity is that he has no holes along his legs to breathe by, like other lizards. His name is _Aporosceles Bentii_. The first lizard's egg I had I was determined should not slip through my fingers; but alack! and well-a-day! my fingers slipped through it. In the meantime we were terrible bones of contention, and had the Wadi Hadhramout all by the ears. We were very anxious indeed as to whether we could proceed any farther or should have to go back, and whether we could do either safely. We wanted to go right along the Wadi Hadhramout and to see Bir Borhut or Barahout, a _solfatare_ as far as we could make out, but Masoudi in the tenth century speaks of it as the greatest volcano in the world, and says that it casts up immense masses of fire and that its thundering noise can be heard miles away. On the heights near is much brimstone, which the Bedouin find useful for gunpowder. They consider this place is the mouth of hell and that the souls of Kafirs go there. In Iceland there is similar accommodation for those souls. Von Wrede thinks it was the Fons Stygis of Ptolemy, but M. de Goeje thinks that Ptolemy alluded to some place farther west and south of Mareb. Certainly the position given by Ptolemy does not coincide with that of Bir Borhut. From 'Arabian Society in the Middle Ages,' by S. Lane-Poole, I take the following notices of this place:-- El Kaswini says of Bir Borhut: 'It is a well near Hadhramout and the Prophet (God bless and save him) said "In it are the souls of infidels and hypocrites." It is an Addite well in a dry desert and a gloomy valley, and it is related of Ali (may God be well pleased with him) that he said, "The most hateful of districts to God (whose name be exalted) is the valley of Barahout, in which is a well whose waters are black and foetid, where the souls of infidels make their abode."' El Asmaï has narrated of a man of Hadhramout that he said: 'We find near Barahout an extremely disgusting and foetid smell, and then news is brought to us of the death of a great man of the chiefs of the infidels.' Ajaïb el Makhloukàt also relates that a man who passed a night in the valley of Barahout said: 'I heard all night (exclamatives) of "O Roumèh! O Roumèh!" and I mentioned this to a learned man and he told me that it was the name of the angel commissioned to keep guard over the souls of the infidels.' Bir Borhut is not far from Kabr Houd, which is said by some to be even longer and wider than Kabr Saleh. The route lies through the territory of the Kattiri, and the Yafei are quite ignorant of it; it would be quite unsafe for them to go to the sea along the valley, and they always use the road over the tableland. The Kattiri tyrannise over the sultan of Siwoun and are enemies to the sultan of Shibahm; beyond them are the Minhali, who are also enemies; then the Amri and the Tamimi, who are friendly, and then come the Mahri. The sultan told us that not even he could prevent us going along the _kafila_ path, but we should not be admitted into any villages and should probably be denied water. One source of enmity between the Kattiri and the Yafei is, I believe, a debt which the Kattiri owe and will not pay. The sultan of Siwoun borrowed three lacs of rupees from the grandfather of the present sultan of Makalla; he would not repay them, so after much squabbling the case was referred to the English at Aden, who, after duly considering the papers, gave Makalla and Sheher (bombarding them first) to the Yafei. In answer to the seven letters there was nothing from the sultan of Siwoun, and the sultan of Terim sent a verbal answer--'Do as you please,' taking no responsibility--to which Sultan Salàh replied, 'I have sent you a letter, send me a letter.' The sheikh of the Kattiri tribe came to Al Koton and said he would take us, but on January 23 we heard that the sultan of Siwoun had made a proclamation in the mosque there, forbidding the people to admit the unbelievers to the town. Though we could easily go by the _kafila_ road, leaving the town of Siwoun two miles on one side, the sultan deemed it wiser for us not to attempt it, as brawls might arise, the two tribes being at war; so we then decided to mount on to the akaba, pass the inhospitable Siwoun and Terim, and reach the friendly Tamimi tribe. The Kattiri _kabila_, or tribe, really came to Siwoun to be ready for us, but the seyyids had collected a large sum of money and bribed the sultan to send them away. We were hoping to get off to Shibahm, but as the sultan was neither well nor in a very good humour, we had to resign ourselves to settling down in Al Koton in all patience. He said he must accompany us, as he could not depend on his wazirs for they were too stupid. My husband and I were always occupied. He used to sketch in water-colours, and I had plenty of work developing photographs in a delightful little dark room, where I lived and enjoyed as many skins of water as I could use, till I had to stop and pack my celluloid negatives like artificial flowers, for they curled up and the films contracted and split, from the alkaline water. I had to put glycerine on them when I reached Aden. Our botanist nearly died of dulness and impatience; Mahmoud was quite contented to sit quite still, and I do not think the Indian servants minded much. Poor Imam Sharif used to gaze up at half a dozen stars from a yard, but he dared not venture on the roof to see more. We took a stroll with the sultan one day, no crowd being allowed, and remarked how many things were grown for spices, those spices which were becoming rather wearisome to us. There was _zamouta_, an umbelliferous plant, the seed of which is used in coffee, and _habat-assoba_ for putting in bread; coriander, chili, fennel, and _helf_, a plant very like tall cress, which is used in cookery and also raw, and which we liked as a salad; also _attar_, a purple creeping bean, very pretty and good to eat. There was also another low-growing bean, _brinjol_ (egg plant), cucumber, water-melon, henna, and indigo. The sultan has besides a private inclosure where he has some lime-trees, not our kind of lime-tree of course, but the one which bears fruit; and I must not forget cotton, from which the place originally took its name, as it is abundant in a wild state. At last another polite letter came from the Kattiri, and a letter from the sultan of Terim. 'I have both your letters _and you can do as you like_, my answer is the same.' This did away with all hope of progress in that direction. Our spirits, however, were much cheered by hearing that the sultan had received a letter from a seyyid at Meshed (probably the nice one who had been in India and had leprosy in his legs), telling him how very badly the sultan of Hagarein had behaved about us. As this was spontaneous, we hoped that the negotiation our sultan was going to undertake about our making excavations at Meshed, Raidoun, or Kubar al Moluk (for some part of the ruins is called Tombs of the Kings), would turn out successfully. The sultan of Hagarein was summoned to Al Koton, but we were away before he came. I believe in the end he was turned out of his place, former misdeeds counting against him. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 12: II., 100.] CHAPTER XII THE CITY OF SHIBAHM On January 25 we started for Shibahm, carpets having been sent forward the day before. The sultan was to follow us in a day or two, when some sheikhs had been to see him. We started at 8.30 and were at Shibahm in four hours. We had eleven camels only, three horses, and the donkey. We travelled, as soon as we left Al Koton, through sand nearly all the way. We passed the tall white dome of Sheikh Aboubekr-bin-Hassan's tomb, near which the ruling family are buried if the seyyids permit. They are all-powerful, and the sultan can do nothing in this respect without them--not even be buried in his own family tomb. There is a well beside the tomb, or rather the kind of building from which water is obtained in the open valleys. This consists of a small white building 8 or 9 feet square, with a dome resting on an open pattern composed of a herring-bone course of bricks; a little wooden ladle, 4 or 5 inches wide, stands in one of the little openings to dip out the water, which would otherwise evaporate. They drink out of the ladle, and fill the water-skins and the drinking trough for animals, which stands always near. They would never let us drink from the ladles. As we neared Shibahm we passed through a good deal of ground that had once been irrigated, but it had had its ups and downs, and was now abandoned. First there had been plenty of soil and the palm-trees were planted in it. Then the wind had denuded the roots, some of which had been banked up and walled in with stones; others were standing on bare roots, but at this time the sand was burying the whole place. There were high drifts against many of the walls and among the trees. Shibahm is twelve miles distant from Al Koton, and is one of the principal towns in the Hadhramout valley. It is built on rising ground in the middle of the narrowest part of the valley, so that no one can pass between it and the cliffs of the valley out of gunshot of the walls. This rising ground has doubtless been produced by many successions of towns built of sun-dried bricks, for it is the best strategical point in the neighbourhood. Early Arab writers tell us that the Himyaritic population of this district came here when they abandoned Shabwa, early in the Christian era. We succeeded, however, in finding evident traces of an occupation of earlier date than this, both in a seal, which is described further on, and in an inscription in which the name Shibahm occurs, and which certainly dates from the third century b.c. Even if Shibahm were not the site of the original capital it must always, centuries before our era, have been a place of considerable importance as the centre of the frankincense trade, for here must have been made up the caravans which brought the spices westward by the great frankincense road across Arabia. The caravans take twenty-five days on the journey to Saihut, and five to Makalla; they go also to Nejd, but we could not find out how long they take. Shibahm is now the property of the sultan of Makalla, but was administered by his cousin Salàh, who received 40,000 rupees a year for the purpose. It is now three hundred years since these Yafei left their old home and came to settle in the Hadhramout. They were then a wild predatory race, plundering caravans; now they have become peaceable and rich. They still remain close friends with the Yafei farther west, but are quite independent of them. It is the maintenance of a residence for the Nizam of Hyderabad, and their constant communication with India, that has doubtless made all the difference between the Yafei tribe and others. Building seems to have been their mania. The sultan of Shibahm has numbers of houses at Al Koton and Shibahm, and he was intending to spend 20,000 rupees in rebuilding his father's house, for the castle at Al Koton is not his own but Government property, and the strip of land across the valley, part of it sandy, goes with it. He was buying up land for himself in the Wadi Al Ain and elsewhere. He told us his father left eleven million rupees to divide among his numerous progeny. Relationships in that family must be a trifle confused. Manassar of Makalla had married two sisters (both now dead) of his cousin Salàh. Salàh had married two of Manassar's sisters. A daughter of Salàh's married Manassar, and another of them was married to one of Manassar's sons, and Manassar's brother Hussein of Sheher married, or was married to, a third daughter of Salàh. Apparently the same complications existed in the generation before this, but into them it is impossible to go. As in India, the favourite marriage that a man can make is to marry his 'uncle's daughter.' Possibly the fact that property goes from brother to brother till a whole generation is dead, instead of from father to son, has something to do with this arrangement. The town of Shibahm offers a curious appearance as one approaches; above its mud brick walls, with bastions and watch towers, appear the tall houses of the wealthy, whitewashed only at the top, which make it look like a large round cake with sugar on it. Outside the walls several industries are carried on, the chief of which is the manufacture of indigo dye. The small leaves are dried in the sun and powdered, and then put into huge jars and filled with water. Next morning these are stirred with long poles, producing a dark-blue frothy mixture; this is left to settle, and then the indigo is taken from the bottom and spread out on cloths to drain; the substance thus procured is taken home and mixed with dates and saltpetre. Four pounds of this indigo to a gallon of water makes the requisite and universally used dye for garments, the better class of which are calendered by beating them with wooden hammers on stones. This noise was a great mystery to us till we traced our way to it and found out what it was. They used also to beat the dried leaf of a kind of acacia called _kharrad_, and, when pounded, make of it a paste which has a beautiful pea-green appearance; it is used for giving a polish to leather. [Illustration: A SABÆAN ALTAR] Another industry carried on outside Shibahm is rope-making out of the fibres of the fan palm (_saap_) which grows wild in the narrower valleys; the leaves are first left to soak in water, and then beaten till the fibres separate. Yet another is that of making lime for whitewash kilns--it is curious to watch the Bedouin beating the lime thus produced with long sticks, singing quaint little ditties as they thump, in pleasant harmony to the beating of their sticks. We entered the town by some very sloping steps, which led through the gateway, passing some wells and the indigo dyers outside; also some horrible pools where they had put the little fish that the camels eat, to drain the oil from them. We entered a sort of square, having the castle on the right-hand side and a ruined mosque in front of us. This huge castle was built by the grandfather of the Sultan Manassar, sultan of Makalla, but, owing to some difference about his wives, he left the two topmost stories unfinished. No one lives in it, so we had the whole of this immense pile of buildings to ourselves. It belongs to Manassar. It is larger than Al Koton by far, and that is also exceeded in size by Haura. It is a most imposing structure and much more florid than the others. The gateway is a masterpiece of carving in intricate patterns. On entering this you turn sharp to the right up a shallow staircase, protected from without, but exposed to fire from the inmates of the castle. The pillars in the lofty rooms are beautifully carved. All the windows are filled with pretty fretwork; bolts, doors, and window frames are also carved. The huge doors are carved on one side only, the outer one, and inside they are rough and ill-grained and splashed with whitewash. There are pretty dado patterns round the walls; and the staircase, as in the other castles, has numerous doors for defence, usually put in the middle of the flights. Shooting-holes are in every direction. We established ourselves in a room about 30 feet by 25 feet, and used to go up and dine in one of the unfinished rooms at the top where there was a little bit of roof and where the cooking was done. We generally thought it wise to dine in our grill-room, in order to have our food hot. We all greatly enjoyed the works of our own cooks, provisions being supplied to us. We overlooked a huge puddle into which the surrounding houses drain, and it is a proof of the scarcity of water in this part of Arabia, that they carefully carry this filthy fluid away in skins to make bricks with, even scraping up the remaining drops in the pool with their hands. In fact, it scarcely ever rains in the Hadhramout. From the roof of our lofty castle we had an excellent view straight down the broad Hadhramout valley, dotted with towns, villages, palm groves, and cultivation for fully thirty miles, embracing the two towns of Siwoun and Terim, ruled over by the two brother sultans of the Kattiri tribe. Close to Shibahm several collateral valleys from north and south fall into the Hadhramout, and a glance at the map made by our chartographer, Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur, will at once show the importance of this situation. Shibahm is the frontier town of the Yafei tribe, the Kattiri occupying the valley about two miles to the east, and these two tribes are constantly at war. Sultan Salàh's big standard was in one of our dwelling-rooms ready to be unfurled at a moment's notice. He has cannons on his walls pointed in the direction of his enemy--old cannons belonging to the East India Company, the youngest of which bore the date of 1832. From the soldiers we obtained a specimen of the great conch shells that they use as trumpets in battle, and which are hung to the girdle of the watchmen, who are always on the look-out to prevent a surprise. The Kattiri are not allowed to stay in the town at night, for we heard that seven months before some of them were detected in an attempt to blow up the palace with gunpowder. There was a fight also, about a quarter of a mile outside the town, in which five Kattiri and seven Yafei were killed. There are three or four armed soldiers to protect Shibahm, the sultan has erected bastions and forts all about it, and the walls are patrolled every night. There are many ruined houses in the plain, relics of the great war forty years ago, when the Kattiri advanced as far as Al Koton and did great damage. The sultan of Siwoun was invited, with seven sheikhs, to the palace of Shibahm on friendly terms and there murdered in cold blood, while forty of his followers were killed outside. The inhabitants of Shibahm were not at all friendly disposed to us. On the day of our arrival my husband ventured with two of the sultan's soldiers into the bazaar, and through the narrow streets; but only this once, for the people crowded round him, yelled at him, and insulted him, trying their best to trip him up and impede his progress; he was nearly suffocated by the clouds of filthy dust that the mob kicked up, and altogether they made his investigations so exceedingly disagreeable that he became seriously alarmed for his safety, and never tried to penetrate into the heart of Shibahm again. On the whole I should accredit Shibahm with a population of certainly not less than six thousand souls: there are thirteen mosques in it, and fully six hundred houses, tall and gaunt, to which an average population of ten souls is but a moderate estimate. The slave population of Shibahm is considerable; many slaves have houses there, and wives and families of their own. The sultan's soldiers are nearly all slaves or of slave origin, and one of them, Muoffok, whose grandfather was a Swahili slave, and who had been one of our escort from Makalla, took us to his house, where his wife, seated unveiled in her coffee corner, dispensed refreshments to quite a large party there assembled, whilst Muoffok discoursed sweet music to us on a mandoline, and a flute made out of the two bones of an eagle placed side by side. Taisir and Aboud were also abiding in Shibahm. Taisir when he met us, on the minute asked for bakhshish, saying he had been ill when we parted and had had none though we had sent it to him. Oh! there was such kissing of hands! so we thought it politic to love our enemy and gave him a present. The Wazir Salim-bin-Ali had travelled with us to take care of us in the absence of his master. Once the Arabs had a good laugh at the expense of three members of our party. One morning our botanist went forth in quest of plants and found a castor-oil tree, the berries of which pleased him exceedingly. Unwilling to keep so rare a treat for himself, he brought home some branches of the tree, and placed the delicacy before two of our servants, Matthaios and, I am glad to say, Saleh, who also partook heartily. Terrible was the anguish of the two victims, which was increased by the Arabs, veritable descendants of Job's comforters, who told them they were sure to die, as camels did which ate these berries. The botanist did not succumb as soon as the others, who, not believing he had eaten any berries himself, vowed vengeance on his head if they should recover, and demanded that, to prove his innocence, he should eat twelve berries in their presence. To our great relief the botanist was at last seized with sickness, and thereby proved his guiltlessness of a practical joke; three more miserable men I never saw for the space of several hours. However, they were better, though prostrate, next day, and for some time to come the popular joke was to imitate the noises and contortions of the sufferers during their anguish. In consequence of the enmity manifested towards us we were even debarred from walking in that interesting though smelly part, just outside the town under the walls with the well, the brick-works, the indigo, the oil-making, the many lime-kilns, the armourers, and all the industrious people of the town. We used to take the air on the roof in the evening; there were no mosquitos, but we were never so persecuted with flies. Fortunately our castle was near the wall, for to dwell in the narrow, tortuous, dirty streets must be fearful--most likely the dust does much to neutralise the evils of the defective drainage. The houses are very high and narrow and built of mud brick (_kutcha_), which is constantly though slowly powdering away. There are many houses in ruins. We had two or three days of slight cold. The temperature was 62° (F.) in the shade, and it was so cloudy that we expected rain, but none came. Saleh managed to get ten rupees from my husband, who refused any more, though he brought a piece of cloth which he said he wished to buy from the sultan. The money was only wanted for gambling. He went to Imam Sharif and said, 'How is this that Mr. Bent, who at first was like my brother, now is quite changed?' Imam Sharif said, 'If he was kind to you when you were a stranger, and now that he knows you is different, there must be some reason for it.' 'What have I done?' 'You know best,' said Imam Sharif, 'and I advise you to beg pardon.' Saleh exclaimed, 'And you, who are a Moslem, take part against me with these Christians!' This is the keynote of his conduct to us. We rode two hours one day, without Saleh, to a place called Kamour, on the southern side of the valley, where there is an inscribed stone at the mouth of a narrow slit or gorge leading to the akaba. The words thereon were painted light red, dark red, yellow, and black, and scratched. The decipherable words 'morning light' and 'offerings' point to this having been a sacred stone when sun worship was prevalent. The letters are well shaped, some letters being strange to us. The writing is _boustrephedon_, which means that it runs backward and forward like an unbroken serpent, each line being read in an opposite direction to that preceding or following it. There is no difficulty in seeing this at a glance, as the shapes of the letters are reversed; for instance, if this occurred in English the two loops of a B would be on the left, if the writing were to be read in that direction, [Symbol: reverse B]. The Greek name comes from this style of writing being originally likened to cattle wandering about. This at once relegates it, according to the best authorities, to at least the third century before Christ, and we were forcibly reminded of the large stone in the ruins of Zimbabwe and its similar orientation. We heard of a cave with an inscription in it in the Kattiri country, about six miles off, almost in sight. We longed 'to dance on Tom Tiddler's ground' and make a dash for it, but the forfeits we might incur deterred us, being our lives. The wazir said he would try to arrange for this, but that, even if the seyyids consented, we must take forty soldiers, well armed, pay them as well as _siyar_ to the Kattiri, pay the expenses of the _siyara_, and take as short a time about the business as possible. On the 27th we heard that some of the tribe of Al Jabber, descended from Mohammed's great friend of that name, had passed Shibahm for Al Koton to fetch us, but there was no news of the Minhali or of the Tamimi. It was said that the Jabberi could not take us over their highland, past the Kattiri and into the Tamimi country, without consulting the Kattiri, who sometimes help them in their wars. It must be remembered that the Kattiri Bedouin were for us (no doubt in view of the payment of _siyar_), while the seyyids and Arabs of that tribe at Siwoun, and their friends at Terim, were against us. I need not say we were weary of this indecision, so we sent a letter to the sultan of Shibahm by a messenger saying, 'We have been here three days; what are we to do next?' and planned that Imam Sharif should ride over next day, as he could communicate 'mouth to mouth' with the sultan in Hindustani. We had one consolation in our imprisonment, for the seal of Yarsahal, which has been mentioned before, was brought to us. The stone is in brown and white stripes, and the setting is very pretty. It had been in the bezel of a revolving ring. We began bargaining for it at once, my husband offering ten rupees for the stone and ten for the golden setting, but the seyyid who brought it said it was the property of a man in Siwoun, who wished to keep it for his children, and he must take it back to him. My husband said 'he should like to look at it very quietly by himself and think over the stone,' and therefore asked the seyyid to remain outside the door for a few minutes. I quickly utilised this quiet time to make an impression with sealing-wax, in case we never saw the seal again. In two hours the seyyid appeared again, and said he had had a letter from Siwoun (twenty-four miles off), saying the (imaginary) owner would not part with it under thirty rupees, but he very soon took twenty and laughed most heartily when I said if I had known how near Siwoun was I would have gone myself. This seal is of particular interest, for on it were the words 'Yarsahal, the Elder of Shibahm'; and in an inscription published by M. Halévy, we have the two Yarsahals and various members of this family described as vassals of the King of the Gebaniti. Now Pliny says that the capital of the country was Thumna; this is quite correct and was confirmed by the seal, for Thumna was the capital of the Gebaniti, who were a Himyaritic tribe, west of the Hadhramout. It is therefore an additional confirmation of the accuracy of the ancient geographers concerning this district. In old days Shabwat, as it is called in inscriptions, or Sabbatha, Shaba, and Sabota, as it is written in the ancient authors, was the capital of the country. Hamdani tells us in his 'Geography of the Arabian Peninsula' that there were salt works at Shabwa, and 'that the inhabitants, owing to the wars between Himyar and Medhig, left Shabwa, came down into the Hadhramout and called the place Shibahm, which was originally called Shibat.' Times are much changed since Shabwa was a great town, for from all accounts it is now quite deserted save for the Bedouin, and is six days from good water; the water there is salt and bitter, like quinine, the sultan said. The Bedouin work the salt and bring it on camels, as is mentioned by Makrisi. The effect of salt is traceable in the water of all the wells in the main valley. We would gladly have gone into Shabwa, but it was obviously impossible. There was a great deal of gun-firing when the Jabberi went by with the sheikh of the Kattiri, and our next interest was a letter from Al Koton, saying 'that the Tamimi, who had sworn on their heads and their eyes to do so, had never appeared, and that the Jabberi wanted 110 dollars, exclusive of camel hire, to go with us, the camels only to go a short distance, and then we must change. What did we wish to do?' Of course we could not start without providing camels for our onward way, so this answer was sent back: 'We have not come to fight; we do not much care when we go, and we await the advice of the sultan when he comes to-morrow.' Saleh was quite delighted, but we thought any direction would be good for our map and we still had hopes of digging near Meshed, though we began to have fears that a repulse eastward would strengthen the hands of our enemies westward. On January the 29th a letter was brought to us by the wazir and the governor of the town, attended by Saleh, more pleased than ever. They said the letter had arrived last night and it was to say that the sultan's pain had increased, so he could not come to-day, and adding what we already knew as to the three neighbouring tribes. We had a council of three, and feeling that the journey to Bir Borhut was out of the question, we determined to beat what we hoped would be a masterly retreat, so the wazir and the governor were summoned and the following answer was sent: 'We cannot understand the letters of the sultan, having no means of communicating with him privately. Therefore we will return to Al Koton to-morrow, and see him face to face.' The servants were all quite delighted at this, for Saleh told them the letter was to say we and the soldiers were all going to be murdered. We had stayed five days in Shibahm, and on the first three had taken sundry walks in the neighbourhood, but during the last two we never ventured out, as the inhabitants manifested so unfriendly a disposition towards us. After the Friday's prayer in the mosque, a fanatical mollah, Al Habib Yaher-bin-Abdullah Soumait, alluded to our unwelcome presence, and offered up the following prayer three times: 'O God! this is contrary to our religion; remove them away!' and two days afterwards his prayer was answered. This very gentleman had not long before been imprisoned for praying to be delivered from the liberal-minded Sultan Salàh, but the people had clamoured so much that he was released. As we halted at the well outside the town, whilst the various members of our caravan collected, we overheard a woman chide a man for drawing too much water from the well, to which he replied, 'We have to wash our town from the infidel this day.' Needless to say we gladly shook the dust of Shibahm off our feet, and returned to the flesh-pots of Al Koton with considerable satisfaction. Of a truth, religion and fanaticism are together so deeply engrained in the Hadhrami, that anything like friendly intercourse with the people is at present next to impossible. Religion is the moving spirit of the place; without religion the whole Hadhramout would have been abandoned long ago as useless, but the inhabitants look upon it as the most sacred spot on earth, Mohammed having been born in Arabia, and hence their objection to its being visited by unbelievers. The Shafi sect prevails to the exclusion of all others. The men go in crowds to India, Batavia, and elsewhere, sometimes remaining absent twenty years from their wives and families, and indeed we were told of one case in which a husband had been away for forty years. They return at last to spend their gains and die in their native sanctity. We reached Al Koton on January 30, and found our friend the sultan very well indeed. We had begun to suspect we were being deceived as to his illness, for when the wazir and Saleh, who seemed in league together, heard the seyyid son-in-law, who came straight from Al Koton soon after the letter, telling us that the sultan was much better, they looked disconcerted, whispered together, and the wazir said, 'You should not talk of what you know nothing about.' We were most anxious to learn all that had gone on in our absence, and what arrangements had been made. It seemed to be considered a mistake our ever having gone to Shibahm, but I do not think it was. Had we not gone we should never have seen that fine and interesting town, and assuredly not have obtained King Yarsahal's seal. The sultan told us there had been a great uproar about us, and all the Yafei tribe were now considered Kafirs. The Kattiri absolutely refused the Jabberi leave to conduct us, and the Nahadi, through whose lands we had passed from Hagarein, said that if they had known how the Kattiri would treat us, they would have treated us just the same. It would be madness to go to Shabwa, as we should, even if we could get there, be only further hemmed in; the Wadi bin Ali was closed to us, the Nahadi were between us and Meshed; nevertheless, the sultan had actually sent a man to ask if we could dig there a few days, he camping with us. Our very faint hope of this was only founded on the fact that the seyyids of Meshed are at enmity with those of Siwoun. On February 1, the Tamimi sent to say they had really started to fetch us, but the Kattiri told them they would declare war on them unless they retired. The following evening we were thrown into some excitement by the arrival of the sultan in our room with seven letters, the general tenor of which was that eight of the Tamimi had come, with the _siyara_ of four Amri only, and no _siyara_ of Kattiri, as far as Siwoun, and asked to be passed on, but that the Kattiri refused them safe conduct; they asked the sultan of Shibahm to go to Shibahm and arrange for them to reach us. They proposed that we should, without touching Shibahm, turn into the very next wadi and go up on to the akaba; the men who went with us were to stay with us all the way to the coast. The sultan promised to keep hostages till his returning soldiers told of our safety. We had another council with Imam Sharif. We counted up our dollars, for we had to live on our money-bags till we reached the sea, and determined to reach Bir Borhut if we could, saying nothing to the servants to upset their minds till all was settled. The sultan went away to Shibahm the next day, and, as usual, the women became very noisy, and during his absence we were close prisoners, on account of our fear of being mobbed. The Indian party were generally looked upon as Jews. In the evening the sultan came back, telling us that the Tamimi wished to bring 400 soldiers unpaid (?) and to take us through their country, but the Kattiri were too strong for them. They said, 'One man came disguised to see us (Herr von Wrede), one man came undisguised (Herr Hirsch), and now a party has come. Next time it will be a larger one still, and then it will be all over with the sacred valley of the Hadhramout.' Saleh, meanwhile, was doing all he could to annoy us. When we were talking over our difficulties with Imam Sharif, he strutted in with a bill for the camels. My husband said: 'It is already paid.' 'I shall see about others then,' Saleh said. 'They are ordered already.' 'Your groom, Iselem, will not go with you,' said Saleh. So I told him, 'He won't get the chance; we would not have him if we were paid, and though we have paid him beforehand, we willingly lose our money.' 'I must, then, speak to the sultan about him, for you.' I said, 'The sultan has decided what he will do with him, and I don't think he will like it.' 'Haidar Aboul will not go with you.' This made us very angry, as we had seen that Saleh had been tampering with him, lending him his donkey and his sandals when he walked, and whispering with him. He tried to separate everyone from us. Haidar had promised to go with us all the way, and later Imam Sharif brought him to me when I was at home alone, and made him repeat his promise, and assurance that he had never told Saleh he would not go. Saleh also wanted money, but was refused; he got 100 rupees a month, and 200 were prepaid at Aden. He gambled, and my husband wished to keep the contents of our money-bags for our own use. We calculated that at the cheapest, for soldiers and _siyara_ and camels, Bir Borhut would cost 130_l._ Saleh had put all the servants in a most terrible fright, and a soldier had told them that if we went beyond Shibahm we should all be killed, and that we should find no water by the way. So we had to explain to them the plan of going by Wadi bin Ali, and to comfort them as well as we could. These people never seem to think that we value our own lives as much as they do theirs. Meshed was also closed against us. The sultan of Siwoun and the seyyids had sworn on the Koran not to let us proceed on our journey; the Kattiri had also sworn and sent messages to the Tamimi of Bir Borhut, the Jabberi of Wadi bin Ali, and the Nahadi, and they were all against us. We had another day of anxiety and uncertainty as to when we should really start, as the camels were not collected till late. We watched eagerly from our tower, counting them as they arrived by twos and threes. We were rather in despair as as we sat dining in a yard, for at this time we were started with our own cookery, and dined near the kitchen, which Matthaios had been able to make in an arched recess of the inclosure, where there were high hills of date-stones, kept to be ground to paste for cattle-food. He could not be allowed to defile a Mohammedan kitchen. After a very few minutes, however, my husband had an idea, which was to go to Sheher somehow, and turn up inland from thence; there were plenty of Tamimi there to help us, and we could thus get to the east side of the Kattiri. Saleh was to know nothing till all was settled. February 7 was a very weary day of waiting; for we had mended and cleaned everything we possessed, and we packed and hoped the camels would come, expecting to be off on the morrow, but it was not till evening that people, I cannot remember of what tribe, came to bargain with us, and the bargaining continued next morning; so we made all baggage ready to be tied into bundles, for we had no doubt we should start on the 8th at latest. First they said we must go by the Wadi al Ain, their own home, and this we knew was that they might blackmail us; but they told us it was from want of water on the high ground, over which we must travel for six days, and that we must take two camels for water. Then they said we should take seventeen days in all, and were to pay for twenty at more than double the usual fare. We should have to go back on our old road as far as Adab, then three days in the Wadi al Ain region, the same road near Haibel Gabrein, go on to Gaffit, and thence turn eastward to Sheher. We were perfectly horrified at this plan; the price was great, and the sultan seemed not to think it possible to go against the Bedouin; but far worse in our eyes was the thought of our map, as we should see no new country, instead of taking a turn or a climb that would have added miles to it. They left us, and we were sitting on our floor in the deepest depths of dark despair, when news came that these camel-men, having made a fresh plan for more extortions, _i.e._ that there was to be no limit to the number of camels, save their will in loading them, the sultan, being indignant, was thinking of sending for other men. When we heard that we roused up and concocted a new plan, which was to send for the sultan and ask him to get the Jabberi, and make them take us by the Wadi bin Ali; so he came and agreed to this. We were not to go so long over the highland, but to go up and down at least twice, which would suit us and our map. The sultan told us we should find running water, and that it was a shorter way to Sheher. Besides this, there lurked in the background, not to be revealed till the last moment, a design to get the Tamimi to come to a place in Wadi Adim and take us to Bir Borhut, a name truly terrible to Matthaios and the Indian servants. We were in high spirits, and agreed that no matter what our fate might be we were having a delightful evening. Truly I think the pleasures of hope are not sufficiently appreciated, for even if your hopes are never realised the hoping has been a great happiness. On the 8th those extortionate men of Wadi al Ain sent to say they would take us by the Wadi bin Ali, turning out of Wadi Hadhramout at Al Gran, crossing the Wadis bin Ali and Adim, and reaching Sa'ah, where we could branch off for Bir Borhut. This offer was declined, for we were watching and waiting for the Jabberi; and at night we heard that the brave Jabberi were at Shibahm, whereas our messenger had been sent to Wadi bin Ali. They said they wondered at not hearing from us, as the sultan had engaged their camels and promised to let them know when they would be wanted. It was a great mystery to us why the Wadi al Ain people had ever been sent for. The Jabberi thus defied the Kattiri: 'As sure as we come from Jabberi fathers and Jabberi mothers, we will take these people safely to Bir Borhut; and as sure as you come from Kattiri fathers and Kattiri mothers, you may do your worst but still we will keep them safe'; to which the Kattiri replied: 'We do not wish to make war on you, and we do not care where you take them so long as it is not into our country.' As soon as we had finished our breakfast next day, a message came to say our horses were ready, and we were to go and drink coffee at a little tower the sultan has in the plain. Most of the party walked. There were only horses for five; a donkey carried a water-skin, and our donkey, Mahsoud, carried halters for every animal. There were the two wazirs, the son-in-law, the sultan of Haura, and a good many servants with carpets for us to sit on, and a teapot. We sat there for about two hours doing nothing but look at the green, an occupation for which this house is expressly built. A gun announced the arrival of the men of Al Jabber, and the sultan sent a man to kill a goat and receive them. Our great joy at their coming was nothing compared to our extreme satisfaction at parting with them later on. I cannot say much for my skill as a physiognomist, for I have it recorded that I liked the looks of our Mokadam (that is chief of our _kafila_, or leader) Talib-bin-Abdullah, son of the Jabberi sheikh, and that I did not care for the looks of our new groom, Salem. I was quite wrong in both cases. There were also Saleh-bin-Yamani and another Jabberi. We were certainly, this time, to start next day, but with another change in our route, I believe on account of water. Instead of going by Al Gran, we were to go by Wadi Manwab, retracing our steps as far as Furhud. Very early in the morning Imam Sharif came to us and told us that the Jabberi had not sufficient camels with them and that we must take camels of Mandob the first day or two, and that others would meet us in the Wadi bin Ali, so there was little hope of a move that day. The Jabberi afterwards said the Mandob way was much the longest, so we changed again. We delayed several days longer at Al Koton, hoping against hope that the sultan of Terim would grant us permission to pass through his territories, that we might prosecute our journey. CHAPTER XIII FAREWELL TO THE SULTAN OF SHIBAHM Our departure from Al Koton on February 12 was almost as serious an affair as our start from Makalla. Sultan Salàh, with the instincts of true hospitality, not only refused to receive remuneration for our entertainment, but loaded us with presents of food for the way and fodder for our animals, intimating that 'bakshish' to some of his dependents would not be altogether unacceptable. With the object of receiving rewards for their services, the grand viziers, the mounshi (a scribe), the hall-porter, the water-carriers, the slaves who had waited on us, were all brought in a bare-faced manner to our room; as we descended the stairs, expectant menials lined the passages; we had to remember the grooms, the soldiers, and the gardeners. Never again will the irksome custom of tipping be half so appalling as when we left the palace of Sultan Salàh. The sultan wished to fire off seven guns at our departure, but this we declined. He came about a mile with us, and then went to Shibahm, to send an answer to the letter from the Tamimi, saying, 'On their eyes they would meet us at Sa'ah.' He also determined to stay away a few days, as he should find his house very dull when we were gone. It had been such a great break in the monotony of his life having us, and he had so much enjoyed the society of Imam Sharif that he was always promising him houses, wells, lands, slaves, and wives if he would only return and settle down in the Wadi Hadhramout. An old and confidential relation of his was to accompany us all the way, and the Wazir Salim-bin-Ali came as far as our first camp, two hours off, in the Wadi Hadira. Here we could plainly see the formation of these valleys, abrupt at the end and like a circus, not made by streams descending, but like creeks and bays of a gigantic fiord. There is not much cultivation in the little valley. This is the road to Sheher. There are two approaches to the akaba, one by the Wadi Hadira and one by the Wadi bin Ali, which is the way to Sheher. We had to enter the Wadi bin Ali sideways by climbing over the akaba from Wadi Hadira, owing to the opposition of the Kattiri, who hold the mouth of Wadi bin Ali. The wazir departed in the morning with a Martini-Henry rifle which my husband sent to the sultan. This gave rise to the report which we heard afterwards 'that we were distributing arms, of which we had five hundred camel-loads.' That day we had a very tiresome adventure. Starting off early before our caravan with several Jabberi, we intended to ascend to the plateau before the heat of midday came on. We were accompanied by a few soldiers, who it turned out did not know the way, and having ridden for an hour and a half up a narrow gorge with wild figs, wild date, and fan palms growing around us, and really magnificent cliffs 700 to 800 feet high on either side of us, reddish in colour and with fossils in the limestone strata, a truly fearful and awe-inspiring place, we suddenly came to an abrupt termination of our valley, having wormed ourselves along, chiefly on foot, and found that unless Sindbad's roc came to our assistance we could not possibly get out of it. Consequently we were regretfully obliged retrace our steps, having spent three hours and much toil, but glad of having had an opportunity of following one of these valleys to its bitter end. It appeared that our supposed guides had never been there in their lives. We scrambled down this wadi, and into the wadi to our right; the way truly was difficult, the valley narrowing and nearly blocked up by perfectly perpendicular cliffs. Our caravan and servants were anxiously awaiting us at a curious spot called Mikadèh, about a quarter of the way up the cliff, where the road which we had missed goes through a natural tunnel about twenty yards long, from lovely pools of rain-water preserved in its recesses, with which we eagerly refreshed ourselves. The rest of the ascent to the plateau was marvellously steep. The camels had to be unloaded, and two fell down. All the baggage was carried by men, up crag after crag, and sometimes there was no sign of a path. I never could have imagined it possible for camels to ascend the roof-like slope of rock up which they had to clamber for the last 50 yards, and indeed, one poor animal did fall, and injured itself so that it had to be unloaded and taken back, whereupon those Bedouin who did not own it heartlessly regretted that it had not been killed, as they would have liked some of its flesh for supper. Just at the end everything had to be unloaded again, and the camels literally dragged up to the top, while we sat dangling our legs over the cliff. Such yelling and shrieking I never heard among the Bedouin, our soldiers and our servants all calling each other rascals, and no one doing more than he could help; and inasmuch as we had about five Salehs, four Umbarreks, and other duplicated names amongst our men, the shouts of 'So-and-so, son of so-and-so,' made us fully realise the clumsiness of Arab nomenclature. When we clambered up on to the akaba it looked dreary and lifeless, silent and lonely and stony, but it soon became lively enough, for we were a large _kafila_, about fifty people and twenty-four camels. We had by very good fortune a great deal of cloud that day, but also some tremendous sun. We sat eagerly counting the camels as they came into view, and had great anxiety about eight of them, and were obliged to send two soldiers back to search for them. We meant to proceed farther as water was two hours on, and some of the first-arrived camels were reloaded; but, after all, we felt we must wait for those eight camels, and send back to Mikadèh for water. We could not encamp very comfortably, for the camel which had fallen and hurt his chest had our bedding and night-clothes and Imam Sharif's tent-poles, and besides this our kitchen-box was missing and we had had no luncheon. So another camel was sent down to fetch those necessaries. It was dreadfully windy, much dust blowing, and so stony that we could only have a peg in each corner of our tents. Rain was threatening, so the baggage was all stacked under the outer fly of our tent. The soldiers behaved most helpfully and the brave and bold Jabberi had not yet once mentioned bakshish in our hearing and were most polite. They were better-looking men than others we had seen, all tall, slight, wiry, and very muscular, a higher type than the Khailiki and much more dressed. The three principal ones wore turbans, red and yellow. They said they were so very sorry for losing the way that 'none of them felt quite well when they thought of our inconvenience.' I could not sleep that night, so I got up and put on my dressing-gown and sat near the door with my head out, and so was fortunately ready to slip out when I heard a trailing picket, and found Zubda rushing up and down, looking for water I suppose. We were so short of it that we had washed in a very little without soap, and one horse had drunk that, and the other the water the chickens were washed in. I caught him, but as I could not possibly drive in the picket, I tied him to a packing case, and then had to collect his food, which was blown all over the place, and take it there for him. On February 14, in consequence of the want of water, great was the hurry to start; we were off about half-past six, and travelled till one o'clock without stopping or getting water; the horses only had half a pint each, that we had washed in. We should not have been so extravagant as to wash that much if we had not wanted to let the horses drink. The plateau here offered features that were new to us. It is as it were in two stories. From the bottom of a wadi you reach first a slope or talus of loose stones, then a cliff, then another slope of loose stones and a cliff, and next comes the main akaba, and on this again a great deal more of the upper story is left than we had hitherto seen. The upper part is from 80 to 100 feet above the lower; sometimes it is in the form of an isolated flat-topped hill, larger or smaller, and sometimes like a kind of centipede, and in the gullies between the legs of these centipedes are to be found whatever remain of frankincense trees, for vegetation is very sparse on the akaba. Showered about everywhere are small bits of black basalt. We had several ups and downs, and passed wadis running in close to us before we began to descend by what must have been a fearful road for the camels, down the two precipices and the two flights of rolling stones, into the Wadi bin Ali. The way was far better than that of the day before; the very Jabberi never saw such a road as that, they said. When we started descending we saw the village of Bazahel below us--the Jabberi capital. It has a picturesque modern fort, built on old Himyaritic foundations. When we reached it the soldiers fired guns, and we were very kindly received by the inhabitants, who led us to a house they had prepared for us. We excused ourselves from inhabiting it, saying it was better not to have our baggage carried up, but we would gladly rest in it. The house seemed very clean--it was of mud of course; the walls of it and the stairs had all been scraped into furrows and curves, and also the dados of the staircase and room were decorated with a kind of basket pattern, and the floors were also in a raised pattern. Carpets were spread, water brought, and with great kindness they locked us in that we might not be disturbed. Only our own party were in this room, the soldiers in another. Matthaios had joined himself to the vanguard to see what happened to us, so my husband shared his horse with him; he had been terrified the day before at the fear that we had been carried off. The Indian servants and the botanist joined us just as coffee with ginger and other spices were brought. Our host had long wrestling with the lock before he could open the door, and after this we were desired to bolt it on the inside. We had a pleasant camp, with palm-trees to shade each cooking fire, no starers being allowed. A woman here joined our _kafila_ for protection for a few stages. Even I never saw her face: she always wore her mask and her hat, and looked a most ungainly object. I dare say I looked the same to her. The sultan of Shibahm had sent a man on horseback up that dreadful wadi to our last camp to thank us for the gun, and to warn us by all means to keep on the highlands for fear of the hostile Kattiri. At Bazahel, Abdullah Mareh-bin-Talib-bin-Said, chief of the Jabberi, welcomed us to his own house later in the day, a most unwonted piece of hospitality. He is much stained with indigo, a very elastic and naked sovereign, who bends his fingers back in a way horrible to behold when he wishes to emphasise his remarks, as he did when he spoke of the Kattiri and his wars with them, and his constantly losing men in raids, as is also the case in his fights with the Hamoumi. As we sat around drinking his coffee, he boasted of his direct descent from Jabber of Hiyal, the friend and councillor of Mohammed, and told us that his family pedigree was safely kept at Terim, with those of all the surrounding tribes of Arabs. Somehow or other we did not care for the Jabberi at all afterwards, and for the rest of our journey to the coast our quarrels with Talib, the son of Abdullah, and the difficulties he would throw in our way, were daily sources of annoyance to us. We left Bazahel at half-past six next morning with the intention of climbing up to the tableland again. The Wadi bin Ali is not very wide and the ground is bare, though there are many villages scattered about. At rather a large one, where the wadi forks, and which we reached at eight o'clock, we were to begin our ascent. To our dismay the camels were made to sit down and the camel-men said we must stay there the night, as there was no water up above. We declared we knew there was, and that we would go on; they must fill the twenty water-skins which we always carried. Some men were inclined to go on, but were overruled by the majority. After half an hour's contention we rode away with a good many people, leaving a few soldiers with the baggage, to show our determination to proceed, we being told that the others would be afraid to stay behind. We sat down once or twice in full view of the village, to survey the camels and wonder if they were coming, and much perplexed were we. We had expected to change camels the following day, and this was the last day with those men, who by delaying us wished to spin out another day's journey at twenty-five rupees. Those soldiers who were with us recommended us to push on round a corner, where the wadi ran in, and conceal ourselves behind rocks, which there stood up between the path and the village, that the camel-men might not think there was any hesitation on our part; so men, and beasts, and I were carefully hidden, and one who peeped without his turban, reported that some camels were rising, and finally, eight starting. When we reached the tableland we had to go a long way round to avoid a good many little wadis which were all quite steep, before we reached the water. At the edge of the tableland are some little shelters used by hunters to shoot gazelle, which come down the gullies that to us appeared, inaccessible. Near the water the soldiers made us climb down to the first story of a small wadi, where we sheltered under a shelf of rock which overhangs the whole end of it. When I was cool, I clambered up and found a hollow or depression above our heads, with a few tufts of grass and some shrubs, so I took down some bits of shrubs as 'samples on appro' to the horses, and as they did approve, they were sent up to graze. We lay on our saddle-cloths till three, pretty hungry, when the eight camels came, and a good long time after the others arrived also the relation of the sultan Salàh joined us on a riding camel: an old man, Salem-bin-Mohammad by name. He said the camels had been changed, and the money paid in advance for this day, taken from those men. We had a cold, windy night at this place, Farash. No one had tents but our own party; even the sultan and other gentry lie in the open on journeys. Our horses were given a supper of dates, which are considered very strengthening, and which they much enjoyed. The tribe of Al Jabber possess the parallel Wadis Adim and Bin Ali, and the road between them across the akaba is much traversed and apparently an ancient one. We went across on the level, eight miles, and then descended by a narrow valley leading into the Wadi Adim. The way was made longer by its having to wind about to skirt the wadis, which cut into it like a fringe; sometimes we were only half a mile from our former or future track. Once we heard a gun fired, and looking across, we saw a _kafila_ of fifty camels, a much larger one than our own, slipping behind a hill to hide from us, and presently some men climbed up to peep. We--that is to say my husband, Imam Sharif, and I--with the three chief Jabberi, the Relation, and some soldiers and others, all gathered up together and stood at gaze, without returning the gun-fire, which was meant to find out if we had any bad intentions. Our own camels were very near the strange _kafila_, and that party was terribly frightened. I think the fright was mutual. When we had gone some distance, and were out of sight of the strange caravan, we were amused at seeing the soldiers and the Jabberi, all in line, running on at a double, firing guns, and shouting, 'Hohh! Hohh! Hohh!' My husband asked the Relation what chance we had of being robbed, as this seemed a convenient place, but he comfortingly said, 'We need not be much afraid, for we have the chief of the robbers with us.' This was really true. The place where we were to climb down into the Wadi Adim was tremendously steep. It really seemed very like trying to climb down the sides of a tea-cup, I wondered how we and the camels and horses would ever do it. However we all did, and the valley became first a crack and then a little wider, and the road then was not so very bad in its own wild way. As soon as the valley became a little flat the men wanted to stop and wait for the camels, but we said we would rather be in the village of Ghail Omr, which they said was only just round a near corner. So we went on, but for fully two miles, till the Wadi Adim crossed our path. It was full of palms on the far side, so we went over there, but were made, whether we would or no, to return to the mouth of our little wadi again; they said on account of food for the camels. There was a fearful row when we crossed the valley, to make us go back, there were daggers out and loud shouts that my husband and I were rascals (harami) and Imam Sharif a dog, and Matthaios and the rest of the servants were in great alarm. We were now in much anxiety and perplexity, for we were told the Tamimi had not come, and they were to have been at Ghail Omr before us, to fetch us to Bir Borhut. We ourselves were not at the appointed place, for we were kept pent into the little wadi. We were told that two men had been murdered on the way to Sheher, but we never made out who they were; also that a seyyid and a lot of the Amri tribe had come, so the Relation took my horse and went off to investigate them. Next morning we thought it well to be ready and to look undismayed; the seyyid with the ten Amri joined us, and we all turned into the Wadi Adim to our right and south. The valley is most fruitful and well worth seeing; there are miles of palm woods; it is about 100 feet higher than Wadi bin Ali, the slope is greater and the mountains lower; it is the most frequented caravan route from Sheher to the Hadhramout. We passed plenty of people coming up, and one day we met a caravan of 150 camels from Sheher with Hadhrami merchants returning from India to enjoy the fruits of their rascality, and end their days on the sacred soil of Arabia. There were little tents on the camels for women, and they seemed to us to have very few armed men. The stream Ghail Omr is the first running one we saw since Al Ghail. It comes from the small Wadi Loban and is very considerable. Wadi Adim is quite the gem of the valleys that we explored. There is a _ziaret_ or place of pilgrimage, which attracts many people, to the tomb of a seyyid Omr, called after Omar, one of the four successors to Mohammed. The Jabberi seem, in spite of possessing this rich valley, to be a poor tribe. There is a large population scattered in small homesteads. They have slaves, who live in little huts made of palm branches, with the interstices plastered with mud. Ten more Jabberi joined us, so when we reached Sa'ah in two hours and a half, we were more than eighty people, with twenty-five camels, two horses, and three donkeys. We dismounted in a dense crowd, in a field of dry earth cut up into squares with hard ridges, so our floors were most uncomfortable. Naturally we dared do no damage by having them dug smooth. On our arrival at our camping ground and while we were waiting for our tents to be ready, always a weary, irksome time to the wayworn traveller, I was surrounded by women all masked. They seemed highly astonished at a safety-pin I was taking out, so I gave, or rather offered it, to an old woman near me. She wanted to take it, but several men rushed between us and roared at us both, and prevented my giving it to her. I stood there holding it out and she stretching out her hand, and one or two men then asked me for it for her, so I put it down on a stone and she took it away and seemed pleased, but a man soon brought it back to me on the end of a stick, saying 'they did not know these things and were afraid of them.' There was no news of the Tamimi and many told us they would not come, but we still kept up our vain hopes, as they had promised to come and wait a day or two for us, bringing with them a _siyara_ of the Minhali and of the Hamoumi. However, we were never allowed to get to the trysting-place, as we afterwards thought, because the Jabberi wanted to keep the fleecing of us in their own hands. Not one of our party, with the exception of Imam Sharif, wished to go to Bir Borhut, and they all encouraged each other in discouraging us. About a mile before reaching Sa'ah we saw an old fortress on a spur jutting out of the precipice, with a cut road leading to it, so of course we determined to visit it. We accordingly set out about two o'clock, my husband and I, Saleh on the donkey, some soldiers, some of our _siyara_ of Jabberi, and my camera. But we came to a standstill when first four, then nine, and at last fourteen men were seen on the top of the ruins, pointing guns at us. They said they would not let us advance without paying, and we feared to come to terms as our Jabberi first said they were Amri, and then a tribe of Jabberi with whom they were at war. In this uncertainty we had to turn back and my husband complained to the sheikh of Sa'ah, who said that this blackmailing had been planned by one of our three best Jabberi, Seid-bin-Iselem, who went with us, and that he would send men of his own with us in the morning. In the morning they came, sure enough, and first asked for a dollar 'to buy coffee,' but my husband said 'No; he would give bakshish if he found writing, but if he found no writing he would give nothing, and in any case, nothing till we returned.' As we heard no more of them after they had retired to think over it, we were sure there could be no inscription. Besides we had seen that the corner-stones were the only cut ones; the others were all rough. After dinner we and Imam Sharif had another serious council, finding ourselves in a regular fix. We determined to stay on one more day at Sa'ah to give the Tamimi a chance to join us, for if we were baffled in getting from here to Bir Borhut, we must get to Sheher as quickly as possible and try from there to reach Bir Borhut. We wished to dismiss our camel-men, but they said they would not let us do so, nor allow anyone else to take the loads. They said they would take us for one rupee a day each camel, but we did not know how many days they would take; they had also said that they would stop where we pleased, or go on all day if we liked, but we had had experience which led us to doubt this. They had now been asked to name their stages; _kafilas_ can go in seven or eight days. We determined that our next attempt to go to Bir Borhut should be with fewer camels. It is a great mistake for explorers in dangerous countries to have collectors with them. They are a great drag and an extra anxiety. The preparations they can make are necessarily all made by guesswork, as no one can tell what is to be found in an unknown country. If we had known we should never have carried the huge spade and fork, which were hated all the way by everyone, or the quantities of cases of spirits of wine and receptacles for large animals, and the dozens of gins, snares, and traps of every description for things that we never found. Of course, in the case of our expedition, there are certain plants and reptiles which would not yet have emerged from their primeval obscurity, and it is a great consolation to feel that something was accomplished in that way. For everyone who is added to such an expedition, the leader has one more for whose life and health he feels a responsibility, one more whose little idiosyncrasies must be studied by all the rest, and who may endanger the safety of all by his indiscretions with regard to the natives, and one more who must be made to pack and be ready in time, or willing not to stray away in times of danger. Mere servants do not so much matter, as they are under control, though the fewer of them the better, as they are human beings who must be fed and carried; but those above them, and who, though not entitled to a seat in the council, feel free to make comments, are the hardest to deal with. Before we went to bed that night, Haidar Aboul, the second interpreter, came and swore on the Koran that the Relation had promised the camel-men two rupees each; still we lay down happy in the assurance that we should be at Sheher in seven days, but after a night much disturbed by guns for a wedding, the first news that greeted us was that those camel-men wished to leave us. They were told that they could not do so: they were bound to take us to Sheher. They then said they would not go in seven days--who had arranged such long stages? They were told their sheikh had. Then we agreed to go in eight days, hoping that in the end they, finding they would lose no money, would allow us to gain time. Some hours after the little crooked sheikh sent to say that if those men would not take us in seven days he would get others. The Relation was not of much good to us. There is here no law, order, authority, honour, honesty, or hospitality, and as to the people, I can only describe them as hateful and hating one another. It must be an awful life to live for ever unable to stir without _siyara_ even a few miles. The rude Carinthian Boor cannot have been as bad as these Arabians. After this they came and said we should go in thirteen days. Later the sheikh sent to say he would send twenty soldiers, and make them take us in eight days. This my husband declined, as we knew he had no power, even in his own village. Then the brother of the sheikh came to ask for a present for him, which was refused, and the sheikh said afterwards we could not trust that brother, he was a liar. At last another list of different stages was brought, and they swore by God and upon the Koran that they would take us in seven days. All the time we were in Sa'ah we had to remain in our tent, tightly tied in, for if we did not we were quite deprived of air by the crowd, which became thicker and thicker, driving the foremost nearly into the tent headlong. I sewed strings to the extreme edges of our doors, which lapped half a yard, and this extension of size was very welcome. We afterwards found these strings useful and pleasant, but we always called them the 'Jabberi strings' in remembrance of these tormentors. If, thinking the crowd had dispersed, we ventured to open the tent, a scout proclaimed the fact, and we were again mobbed. Our tent was 7 feet 6 inches square, and we found this quite large enough when it had to be pitched on a slope, or on a narrow, rocky ledge, when trees had to be cut down to make room in a forest, or when it was among the boulders of a river bed. Imam Sharif's tent was larger, and though it looked more stately in a plain, he sometimes had not room to pitch it, and had to sleep with his servants. CHAPTER XIV HARASSED BY OUR GUIDES We never could ascertain whether the Tamimi had come or not, so on February 18, having given up all hope of joining them and changed ten camels, we set out, but not before nine o'clock. After Sa'ah the Wadi Adim becomes narrow, stony, and uninteresting, and our way lay for a good part along a stony river bed, gradually mounting, but almost imperceptibly. For several days we pursued the course of this valley, and had we known what would befall us as we approached the head of the Wadi Adim, I think nothing would have induced us to take this route. It appears that a very wicked branch of the Hamoumi tribe hold a portion of this valley, and determined that their enemies, the Jabberi, who stole their cattle and plundered their caravans, should not have the exclusive patronage of the lucrative English travellers on their way to the coast. To our surprise at twelve o'clock we stopped at a well, Bir al Ghuz, when our men began to unload the camels. They said they were only just waiting for the Hamoumi siyara to come up, and that they had already arrived at Sa'ah. The Hamoumi are a small, poor tribe of Bedouin, who occupy the lower end of Wadi Adim. They hire out camels to caravans, and do a great deal of the carrying business. Their villages consist of miserable little hovels gathered round forts, placed at intervals down the valleys, so that they can see from one to another. They have many flocks and herds, for there is actually pasturage for them, and many of the shepherds live in caves, there being plenty in the sides of the valley, which are composed of pudding-stone; they wall up the front. We considered that, as Talib-bin-Abdullah, the chief of the Jabberi and so notorious a robber, was our Mokadam, we had better keep friends with him, therefore we spoke him fair. He and his companions came and wrote their names after a list of stages, and made a most solemn oath they would do anything we liked; and after we had sat for an hour or more in the sun, waiting for the Hamoumi, they said we must pass the night at Bir al Ghuz, still swearing to the seven days. We therefore encamped, and very soon the Jabberi came and asked my husband for a sheep, but he said he would not give one now, but later in the journey he would do so if he found we were getting on well; so they went away, but soon came back for twenty-seven dollars, as _siyar_ to the Hamoumi. My husband said he had agreed for twenty-five, but they said they had spent two dollars on a messenger to fetch the Hamoumi. The Jabberi were by way of having 110 dollars for their _siyar_, forty first and the rest at Sheher. They would not move next morning (the 20th) without the whole of the money, so they had to be given that and the twenty-seven dollars for the Hamoumi. Besides this they always demanded their camel-hire every evening. They next said the way was very dangerous, and we must take men from five other tribes (though we could not imagine how so many could be accommodated in that wilderness), and pay twenty dollars. As my husband refused, and asked them to reflect upon the consequences of their conduct, the soldiers came and now said they recommended him to pay and recover the money at Sheher; otherwise they, the soldiers, said they would give up their weapons to the Jabberi as a pledge that they would pay forty dollars at Sheher. We said they might, but Talib told us that if we did not pay they would give the Hamoumi their money and all go back themselves. We then summoned Imam Sharif and had another council of three. The servants, meanwhile, used often to be leaning in at the tent door, scanning our faces and begging us to do anything the Jabberi wanted, and moaning that we should never see the ocean any more. The Jabberi had gone away, as my husband said he must think over this; so we consulted together. We at first quite decided to return to Al Koton, and try to reach the coast by Wadi al Ain and, if we could not have the camels, to load our own three animals with necessaries and money, leaving all else behind, and perhaps to slip by Siwoun in the night. So Talib was recalled, and told that we would go back; that we were now convinced of the dangers of this road, as we saw he was afraid himself, and as he had told us of two places where murders were always committed. But afterwards we thought it wiser to consent to pay the extra thirty dollars (in all fifty-seven) as _siyar_ to the Hamoumi, all the tribes mentioned being varieties of Hamoumi. The money was to be placed on the Koran and taken thence by Talib, with an oath that, if the sultan of Sheher thought it unnecessary, it should be refunded. Seid-bin-Iselem and three soldiers witnessed this, but Talib would not allow the Hamoumi to be present. Instead of taking Talib's gun as a deposit, the soldiers were to keep the money in their hands. We were still to be at Sheher within the seven days, and not now to wait two or three days for the five tribes. Though we did unpack a Koran and make Talib-bin-Abdullah swear on it, we did not then understand that merely swearing on the binding is nothing. The Koran must be opened, and some places are better than others. Oaths by the life of a son, or to divorce a favourite wife, are really good. We being, as I say, ignorant, the oaths were broken. My husband and I now felt quite conquered; and it must be admitted we had reason. We had a horrible evening of dust-storms and hurricanes, and were dreadfully afraid of the tent being blown down. In the morning we packed, and the baggage was taken out to be tied in bundles, when Talib demanded the eleven dollars camel-hire for the day before. In vain was he told that all was packed, and he should have them at the next stage. No! he would not go away without his money; so at great inconvenience we had to pay on the nail. We had not gone an hour before we stopped, unloaded, and changed our camels for Hamoumi camels. 'Now all is peace,' said Talib-bin-Abdullah, and in the same breath asked for two dollars for two extra camels, that we had had before we reached Sa'ah. My husband refused, but when we reached our stage Talib asked for that day's pay, and would not take it without the two dollars. Of course my husband refused again, saying we were not responsible for those two camels; that Talib had contracted to take us and our baggage, and that now we had twenty-two camels instead of the fifteen with which we arrived at Al Koton. Equally, of course, he knew he must pay, and did. We settled ourselves under some thorny trees at Bir bin Aboudan, where there are two wells with good water. It is larger than most Hamoumi villages, and has palm-trees and many large b'dom-trees. Besides the Hamoumi, Jabberi, and Yafei, there are many small subsidiary tribes, or rather families, forming little independent communities of their own, in this region. To continue the life of Talib-bin-Abdullah. As soon as he had received the last-mentioned money, he and his companions and the Hamoumi had a great and loud quarrel. Our money, being so bulky, was in bags scattered about among all the baggage, but we always had one store-bag in my box, and my husband had some for current expenses. The camel-men thought all the money was in a certain bag that was solemnly carried into the tent every night. While they shouted we filled the bag with a certain amount of dollars, meant to represent our entire fortune, and placed it on the table. We had become great hypocrites, but now we both decided that sweet words were of no avail. Whenever Imam Sharif was sent for, the servants crowded round, scanning our faces, and in despair themselves, saying 'our lives are sacrificed,' and making great lamentations about their wives and families. It was very hard sometimes to keep our voices and countenances cheerful while holding counsel with Imam Sharif as to how we ought to act, for sometimes it is right to haggle over fourpence and sometimes it is right to pay through the nose. It is difficult, indeed, when you are cudgelling your brains, not to knit your brows, even if you only wish to decide if you will take your umbrella or not. Talib had not been absent from us an hour when he again arrived, saying he wanted four dollars to pay a debt he owed in Bir bin Aboudan; 'it was to come out of the thirty dollars still owing for the _siyara_, and to be paid at Sheher,' he said. He was, of course, told that the money for the _siyara_ had been fully paid up, seventy dollars before the sultan of Shibahm, and forty at Sa'ah. Talib bawled a good deal, and my husband pointed to the money-bag and said, 'If you want all my money, take it; but call it by no other name than robbery. Take all at once instead of bothering me perpetually, and I will settle with you at Sheher.' When they heard this they were frightened, and went away, saying 'Oh! No! No! We do not want that.' They were soon back, and said they wanted four dollars on their food money (four annas a day), 'but not at all unless we wished.' They then acknowledged, before the soldiers, that the _siyar_ was fully paid up, and that Talib had made a mistake about those two dollars that he had obtained for the camels. In the meantime we had been planning to get our most urgently needed things ready to load on the horses and to walk to Sheher, only sixty-five miles--but such miles! However, we knew our enemies had the advantage of knowing the way and the water-places, which we did not, and could climb like monkeys over places where we could not take horses. I am sure we should never have found the way over such mountains, where camels sat down and slid, and we did much the same, sometimes quite involuntarily. Saleh at this time seemed disposed to do his duty. The money (thirty dollars) that had been extorted the day before for _siyar_ to the Hamoumi, who had not yet turned up, and given to the soldiers, was by them put into Saleh's keeping, as he had a box that could be locked. In the night Talib came to Saleh and said: 'Six Hamoumi are here; give me the money for them.' 'Wait till morning,' said Saleh, 'and I will give it you before Mr. Bent, Imam Sharif, and everybody,' but when he offered it to him then, he said, 'No, keep it.' We had gone a little ahead next morning, February 21, Talib, Imam Sharif, and I, with the needful escort, my husband having to ride a camel as his horse's back was sore, and had proceeded an hour on our road when--'Bang!' went a gun high up in the rocks, to our left, near the village of Kouna or Koutna, and 'bang!' went another; so we stopped, and with some hesitation five of the soldiers and some of the Jabberi went forward, getting round behind the shelter of some trees. There were seven men up in the rocks, and a tower in the village was crowded. They constantly fired from both places. The camels soon came up, and we all dismounted and stood together with our animals, Basha, Zubda, and Mahsoud close by. This shooting and parleying went on for half an hour. We thought at first that they would only fire over our heads, but a bullet struck the ground very near us. We could not make out what it was all about. There were so many different suggestions made as to the cause; some said the people of the village wanted to come with us as _siyara_, and some that they wanted to fight the Hamoumi, who had lately taken their camels. Our men shouted, '_Siyara! Siyara!_' and the men on the tower, 'Come no nearer!' 'By my God you shall not come on!' 'We are fighting and we will slay him who dares to stir a step!' Talib said, 'Now we can go neither backward nor forward,' and amazed us by asking for no money. At last the soldiers came back from the village and told us to advance, so we mounted and rode through the village amidst uncomplimentary remarks from the scowling inhabitants. We were told some people had gone on to intercept us, and accordingly about half a mile farther there were more shots, this time to our right. We of course came to a standstill, but Talib, in spite of the shooting, rushed at Mahsoud's bridle and dragged Imam Sharif down into the river bed, calling excitedly to the rest of us to hurry on. We passed safely, and you may be sure looked in every rock and bush for enemies. Hardly a quarter of a mile on, and where the valley is about three hundred yards wide, there was a small tower to our left, and we saw a lot of men rushing into this and appearing on the battlements. We knew they would shoot at us and I was watching for the puff. The first shot threw up the earth nearly two yards from my horse's nose, and the next seemed to say 'tshish!' just at the back of my neck. It went just between my husband and Imam Sharif, who were on foot behind me. Everyone ran as fast as the rocky ground let them, to some trees out of sight of that tower, but not knowing whether we were not going to meet with more shooters, we always had our revolvers ready, though no one knew that; our safety lay in being unarmed in the enemies' eyes; we kept them for worse need. The sheikh of Kouna said his name was Abdullah-bal-Jabbeli, of the tribe of Obathani. There are two other small tribes, Zedin--Sheikh Ebenadon, and Shibim--Sheikh Bengadem. After that last firing there was no more that day, and we slept peacefully at Naïda, which we reached about 12.30, and where the inhabitants were quite friendly, bringing us all the food we asked to buy. The valley seemed to come quite to an end, but took a sudden turn eastward just before we reached the village. It is rather a pretty place, but the spot on which we were encamped was dreadfully dirty, and we were so afflicted by dust-storms, that our books were covered while we read, and the colour of our clothes and bedding obliterated, and we had to tie our hair up in handkerchiefs to keep it clean. We always had quilts of turkey-red or some other cotton, for when we lay down our beds often became sandy, and the quilts could easily be shaken or brushed, and besides protected the blankets from burrs and grass-thorns. We were by ourselves in the afternoon when Talib came quite alone, and with an air of secrecy, to ask for his eleven dollars for that day's camel hire. I rushed out to the kitchen and brought Matthaios as a witness. Then Talib asked for two dollars, and when my husband began to call Saleh, he said he did not want them and went away. He was soon back again, however, with Saleh, to ask if my husband wished to pay any more for _siyara_ of the people we were coming to. My husband said 'No,' and after some talk Talib said he would not ask it if my husband did not wish. I told Talib that the very next thing he would get would be my husband's money-bag, so he retired. Later he came for thirty dollars to send to some people that night, but my husband told him to send his own men for them, and not afterwards to say he had paid a messenger; the money would only be paid into those people's own hands. We lay down with no great certainty of peace for the morrow, when we expected to reach Ghaida. All, however, went quietly that day, much to our relief. My husband had been induced to pay a rupee to send a scout up the mountain to look behind rocks and bushes for dangers, but we passed on our way completely unmolested by the shepherdesses, young and old, who were all we met with in the shape of human beings. The valley became narrower, we rose higher, and the cliffs were cavernous. Sometimes the valley seemed quite to finish up, but then it always took a turn again. Much of the way was over large, round stones, most horrible for the horses. We passed a water-place two hours after we left Naïda, though Talib had made us stop there because, he said, there was no water within a day's journey, and we found ourselves stopped at Rahba, two hours at least before Ghaida, where we expected to be, Talib still sticking to it that we should be at Sheher in three more days. He only asked for four annas for coffee to drink at the great tomb of a wali, Sheikh Salem-bin-Abdullah Mollah el Mohagher, who is buried near a mosque and a tank, the footbath of cattle, from which we drank pea-green water, boiled and filtered of course. Altogether Rahba is a pretty village, but much exposed to wind. The tribes thereabout are Mahri, Gohi, and Salbani. February the 23rd was a weary day. Talib had asked leave to go to Sufeila to arrange something with the sheikh, soon after our arrival at Rahba, saying he would not be away long. He did not go all day, but at night said he was now going, and would take sixty rupees _siyar_ then, but was told we would take it ourselves. In the morning the Hamoumi refused to load up, saying they had not been paid the twenty-seven dollars. Talib was absent, but being fetched said he was keeping the money, as otherwise the Hamoumi might leave us anywhere they liked. In the meantime the soldiers, according to their habit, instead of keeping their weapons for our safeguard, once more gave up their swords and guns to the Hamoumi. They always were pledging them to our enemies, as an earnest that we would do what they wanted. The Hamoumi loaded the camels, on the oath of Talib that they should have the money that night at Sufeila, a place that we were to pass, and which the day before we were told it was impossible to reach in one stage. They swore to take us to Bir Baokban. We started about ten o'clock, and at eleven the camels were stopped at Sufeila, and the men said they would wait a quarter of an hour, to which my husband consented. They then began to lead the camels away to feed, so my husband stoutly said that if they did that he would get other camels. Neither he nor any of us knew how or whence these other camels could be procured, but it had the desired effect, and they left the camels sitting among their loads. Saleh was sent to arrange with the wretched little sheikh, and remained away till after two o'clock. A soldier was sent to fetch him, and then arose a tremendous uproar. First they said we should stay where we were, then that we should go only a short distance, and on a different way to that already settled. After that we were told we could not go to Al Figra or Al Madi, as these were recognised places for murders, and we were told the same of Ghail Babwazir; also a good many different numbers of days were mentioned for our journey. My husband said he would camp at Sufeila, but they quickly loaded up for Bir Baokban, they said. The sheikh was given fifteen dollars, and he told us he would send four of his sons with us. I must say that after those four or five hours of being stared at and called bad names, I was pretty tired. We none of us remarked that three of the soldiers, all the Jabberi, and the four sons stayed behind. I was riding with Imam Sharif, two Indians, four soldiers, and the groom leading Zubda, whose back was still sore, when we came to a fork in the way. The soldiers asked a passing man, 'Which is the way to Ghail?' The man looked puzzled; so were we. I said, 'We want to know the way to Bir Baokban.' 'No, no! Ghail,' said the soldiers, and when I said 'Baokban!' again they laughed scornfully. Our _kafila_ came up, and I rode to my husband and told him I was sure we were being led out of our way. We were guided down a rocky slope into a valley not more than 200 feet wide, with thick woods up each side, and a sandy bottom. Here we were stopped by a good many shots from each side, and retreated a little, without turning our backs, and then looked about for the four sons. There was another row of course, and my husband said we would return to Sufeila; but we were told at last that we might pass, so we did, and one of the shooters soon joined us and asked for a rupee for coffee, but was refused, and then said he would let us go to Bir Baokban if he got a rupee, but he did not insist. We now thought it well to ask where we were, and were told that it was Hadbeh, a place we had never heard of before. My husband said we should return to Sufeila, and carried off a string of camels. There was a great consultation, amid much roaring and shouting. I rode fast to the head of the _kafila_ to see what was happening, my husband still going back with about six camels, the others going on, they said, to Bir Baokban. I then galloped back over the stones to the soldiers who were behind, and said, 'Your sultan has placed you under our orders; go and get those camels back.' 'No, no,' they said, 'it is quite safe to go on,' and ran back as hard as they could. I then rode back quickly to my husband, and found him in abject distress; one of his camels had shed its load, and was seated on the ground. The soldiers remained behind, sitting on a bank. After a long council, we determined to go on to a village close by, where we joined the other camels. We had barely time to set up the tents before dark, and our store of bread and charcoal stood us in good stead. The Indian party were dreadfully late getting to bed. Dismay reigned supreme amongst us all. Saleh came in to our tent and said, 'The man who shot at us says, "You cannot go on to-morrow. To-day we only shot our bullets in the air, but to-morrow we shall shoot at you."' We thought of going back to Sufeila, and sending to the sultan of Sheher for help, but where could we find a messenger? When we were in bed, Saleh came and said two men with the matches of their guns alight were standing by our tent; some of those that had shot at us, and said they wanted four or six annas, as they were returning to Sufeila. They refused to take four then, so my husband said they had better come about it in the morning. Morning revealed that these were some of our own camel-men, who were just pretending to be the shooters in order to get money, and also we found out that Talib had employed the shooters to give us the fright, in order to delay us, that the Jabberi and the soldiers might have a feast at our expense in the village, and time to eat it. They did not reach camp till eleven. Next morning the soldiers brought my husband twelve of the fifteen dollars the sheikh had received (being part of the original thirty, said to be for the three other tribes of Hamoumi), saying that he was a very wicked man, as he had not sent his four sons, so they had only left him three dollars for the feast. Hardly had my husband put this by, when Talib came and had to be given thirty-six dollars for _siyar_ to the Mahri. Plainly we were in their hands, and had to pay whatever Talib chose, as we might be hemmed in at any moment. We felt as if we were in a net. The eleven dollars camel-hire which we had kept out having gone to make up this sum, and the camel-men refusing to load without it, we had to unpack again to get it for them. Sufeila, where we had endured such a disagreeable delay, is on the tableland, 3,150 feet above the sea-level, with excellent air, excellent water, palm and other trees, and would make a first-class sanatorium for Aden. It is ten miles inland from Sheher as the crow flies. About 8 o'clock next morning we started, not knowing precisely whence or whither, and determined to keep together as much as possible. We followed for miles the bed of a stream, which collects all the water from this part of the akaba, and gradually develops into Wadi Adim, the great approach to the Hadhramout. There is a fortress on a hill 3,500 feet above the sea-level, the highest point in this part; Haibel Gabrein being 4,150 feet, and near Dizba the highest point is 4,900 feet. After some miles on the akaba, we plunged into a valley about 200 feet wide, and wooded with palms; the earthen cliffs were about 60 feet high, and the bed sandy. By this time we neither had a liking for valleys, cliffs, trees, nor people. We did not feel pleased at being led straight across the valley to a band of armed men, in a most unpleasant situation for us if they meant mischief. These were only Jabberi travelling, and they were told that we were friends of the sultan of Sheher, and not going to stay a minute. I suppose they would have fired if we had not been introduced to them. We were glad to reach Bir Baokban at 11.30. It is a well in a bare place at the mouth of a valley. Talib did not wish to stay there, for the water is brackish, and he wanted us to go on before the camel-men came up, but we waited, and they and the Jabberi had a loud and angry quarrel, and we were told there was no water nearer than Al Madi, and some of them wanted to stop at a place half-way to Al Madi and send for water. We could make neither head nor tail of it. Talib then asked my husband which he wished to do, for so it should be; but as he knew it was a case of 'You may do as you like, but you must,' answered to that effect, 'Whichever Talib liked, we were in his hands and could not choose.' After great hesitation we encamped in a windy, dusty, but rather pleasant place near Bir Baokban. There were many tombs on the way. One had three upright stones, which the Hamoumi camel-men touched, and then kissed their fingers. They cheerfully told us that many caravans have been robbed here, and men murdered; pleasant news for us. We asked them why we had been fired on, and they said that the people believed we poisoned the wells. The soldiers came and shouted at us a good deal, saying, 'Why do you hire Bedouin to protect you? Are we not here? Do you not trust us?' We soothed them with flattering words, and then Talib came and extorted nine more dollars. In the morning we had to pay three dollars to three men who said they had seen four men, which four men ran away. We were informed that we were to pass through three tribes that day, and should have a good deal of trouble on the way to Dizba, the place half way to Al Madi. As a matter of fact we were pretty sure that these later scares were only got up to frighten more money out of our pockets. The soldiers were told to go in front, but they often sat down and lit a fire for their water pipe, got behind, or rode a camel. Though we went up and down a good deal, it was not too steep to ride all the way, and though there were watchings and scoutings, we saw neither man nor beast, nor any habitation of the three tribes. As we went along my husband was told that an old woman (whom we never saw) had come and said that the men of Al Madi would not let us pass, and that we must write to the sultan of Sheher to send us two hundred soldiers. There is water at Dizba, though we were told there was none till Al Madi. We encamped in a sheltered spot, a sort of pot between low hills. We ought, according to the solemn contract, to have been at Sheher by that time. We talked over the plan of sending to Sheher, and decided that doing so meant much pay to the messenger, thirty or forty more dollars _siyar_, and, what was worst, four days' delay; it would also cost forty-four dollars in camel-hire; so we decided that it was far better to push on, for our delay would only give time to more enemies to gather round us. It would likewise be far cheaper, and so it subsequently turned out. From being hypocrites we now became liars, and my husband said he had not so much money left, and that he had already paid four rupees to send men on the morrow. There was some talk of our all going by night and getting past Al Madi, but in that case our own men would only fire on us to frighten us. Next we heard that there was no village at Al Madi where we could buy forage; we had but little left, though plenty of dried bread. Then three Jabberi came and said they were getting lame, and wanted eight dollars to buy a donkey out of their food-money, but my husband said he had paid so much for _siyara_ that he had not enough to pay that till we reached Sheher. There was an idea that they would shoot round us in the night, for they spoke of the dangerous situation in which we were, and wanted six or eight dollars to pay for scouts on the hills, but went away when my husband said he would see about it in the morning. In case they did we determined to remain silent in our beds that they might be unable to locate us, and in that case they would not fire at our tents for fear of hitting us. We had a very cold night; the dew in the morning was streaming off our tent in heavy drops. Talib said, 'The people of Al Madi do not want money, but our lives and souls.' We did not think they meant to kill us, but only to frighten money out of us. We also overheard some conversation about our lives and baggage being in peril. We had not far to go, but the way was very intricate. At sunset we three had a great council, and sent for Saleh; the soldiers, having been flattered, were fetched too, as we now thought we had them on our side, and we threatened to ruin them and their families, or to give them good bakshish if they did well by us. My husband said we had decided that in future he would not give another pi (not to eat, but there are a good many pies in an anna and also pice), but that, as the camel-men spoke of stopping between Dizba and Al Madi, we would have some food ready to eat on the journey and get the soldiers to force them on; and, if we had to stay, to load the horses and start the following morning to Sheher. The soldiers agreed on promise of a good sheep next day; the Hamoumi camel-men were promised coffee and sugar, so they agreed also. When they were all gone, Saleh, to our unbounded amazement, said that Seid and Talib had confided to him 114 rupees, on account of his having the locked box; so he brought them to us, and amid shouts of laughter they were engulfed in our bag. By the bye, we actually had two of the Al Madi people with us, so we ought to have been safe; or what is the good of _siyara_? In the morning an awful object met our view. This was a soldier, a very ugly black man, who was dragged along on his knees by his arms and shoulders to our tent. He had been struck by the cold, his companions said. He seemed to be perfectly helpless, and to have no control or use of any muscles save those which were at work making the most horrible grimaces. I ran to the kitchen and fetched our tea, to the rage of Matthaios, who said he had no more water to replace it, and that as it was we could not have a cupful each. It was poured down his throat in a very rough way, but refused to stay. My husband gave him some of an unknown medicine, that he said was specially used for such cases, and this brandy just trickled out of his mouth, so they dragged him away to their own fire, still in a kneeling position. They then opened his jacket and burnt him a good deal with a hot sword, and he was given tepid water to drink, which stayed down very well. When we were about to start, he was held upright by two men. A thick square shawl was put rather carelessly over his head with the fringe over his face, and pushed back off his shoulders, to allow his arms to come out through an _abba_, a kind of cloak with armholes, which was also put over his head. They came out so high up of course, that the hands stuck out on a level with his ears. High up under his elbows, and far above his waist, a turban was wound, and a muffler was put round his neck and mouth; he hobbled along with two supporters and leaning on a spear, with the shawl streaming on the ground like a train--a very absurd sight. In about an hour he was quite well. Talib, not knowing of our little plan of going with the Hamoumi to Al Madi, came and told us how very dangerous Al Madi was, and that it would be far better to go by Ghail Babwazir, if only the camel-drivers would agree. If they would not, he would put all our most necessary things, _i.e._ our money, on his own camel, and we would ride secretly off together. It is needless to say we did not consent, as it would have been 'Good-bye Talib and money!' Then Ali, the chief of the camel-men, came and said he would not go unless he got six secret dollars for himself and six for the others, and said he would (like Ananias and Sapphira) swear he had only six. Imam Sharif and Saleh again perjured themselves in our behalf to such an extent that my husband and I could hardly sit by, but we must speak the language of the country, I suppose. From Dizba we passed over very high ground, 4,300 feet, with a cold refreshing wind from the sea. It seemed to us a healthy climate. In a little narrow pass is a rude tomb near the rough stone cabin of a sainted lady called Sheikha, where our soldiers and camel-men made their devotions. I had a very uncomfortable ride, for on the way we saw an aloe of a kind we had not seen before, and which proved to be new enough to obtain the name of _Aloe Luntii_. The botanist sawed off the head of it (which is growing now in Kew Gardens), and we knew he dared not try to take it on his camel, as the men always quarrelled over every weight that was added to the load; so I told him to go on and leave it, as if he did not care for it, and then I tied it to the off-side of my saddle, and had to ride hanging heavily on my left stirrup, as otherwise I should have been over-balanced, and my horse would have got a sore back. On arrival, I dismounted in a quiet place, put the aloe down with my jacket thrown on it, and later fetched it into the tent, under cover of my feminine draperies, and at night it was smuggled into some package. On one occasion, when no one had been riding for some days past, a felt saddle-cloth somehow was left behind by us, so one of our own men was forced to carry it in his hand till I discovered it, and tied it to my saddle, for he was not allowed to put it on a camel. I tell this to show how very disobliging they were to us. Mariala is the name of a disgusting pool or cistern of the very dirtiest water, on a bare and lonely hillside, where we were exposed to wind and cold, and where we encamped in much the same state of perplexity as usual. Soon after our arrival my husband was asked for eight dollars to send fifteen men up the hills to look for murderers; he refused, then the camel-men said they would not start without six men to go ahead, but that was refused too. Next morning we started for Al Madi. We wound up and down, over bare ground, and could see no danger for miles. At a point on the highland we waited for the camels to come up; they came and passed to the southward on a well-trodden path. Talib called out to them to stop, and said that he would not go that way, and that we should not, and that the men were taking us into danger. He pointed to the south-west, but we did not like parting from our baggage. Talib then asked my husband which way he pleased to go. 'Which is the best?' he asked. 'I do not know,' said Talib. 'Very well,' said my husband, 'we will follow the camels.' On we all went in great doubt, and the Jabberi told us awful stories of the Hamoumi intentions. We had five armed Jabberi, seven soldiers, and twelve Hamoumi, all armed, including two little boys. The soldiers, so brave the night before, said: 'We can do nothing--we are afraid. If we fired a gun, or if they fired, hundreds of people would come, and they would kill us.' They never either raised their weapons or their tongues in our defence. They said the sultan of Sheher would not be able to go himself or send soldiers into these parts, and that the Al Madi people wished to decoy us to Al Madi and kill us. The Jabberi said the same, and Talib again wished us to ride off with him. The Hamoumi said it was all Talib's fault, for he owed a great deal of money at Al Madi, and was afraid of going thither. The Hamoumi then said they would take us to Ghail Barbwazir or Barbazir or Babwazir, but we must keep it a secret from the Jabberi and the soldiers. Saleh said to them, 'My dear friends, tell me the truth. Where are we going? I also am an Arab and a Moslem, and I swear by my Koran and my religion, that we will give you forty dollars, and spend two days in Ghail Babwazir, during which you will have your eleven dollars a day; and we will engage you on to Sheher, and give you good bakshish, and a good character to the sultan and two nice turbans.' We gasped in amazement at this. 'Oh!' said Saleh, 'I only read them something from the preface of the Koran! We are not bound at all. If I had to swear falsely on the Koran, I should have to be given a great many guineas! We never knew the name of the place where we slept that night. Talib came in the morning and said he could not persuade the Bedou Hamoumi to go to Ghail Babwazir. We told him that they had agreed to do so, and he was very angry at our having settled anything without him. Then Ali said he could not go in two days; so he was led aside and privily threatened with public betrayal as to having taken twelve dollars and saying he only had six. Then they all wanted payment in advance, but the same threat to Ali availed to avert this bother and we set out, told that we should go as far as Gambla. We had, after, all, to part from the camels, which went a more roundabout way, while we climbed down 1,000 feet over very steep rocks, with the use of hands as well as feet, the horses being with us, to a place not very far from water. The horses were sent to fetch a little, while we awaited the camels more than half an hour, and ate some food we had with us. The horses had been badly off and had only bread and dates, for the camel-men would sell us no forage. When they arrived they said we must stay where we were, and there was a fierce row as usual. They also demanded their eleven dollars, but gave up sooner than unload, as we said we would not stop. At one time, when we had been waiting a long while for the return of those camels which had gone to fetch skins of water, Talib caused our horses to be saddled, mounted his camel, and started, but my husband would not go on to Gambla, when the camel-men had refused to go there. Then we all lay down on rough stones, scorching in the sun for hours, wondering what would happen and whether we could get any farther that day, but at length we suddenly were invited to start. We had a very steep climb up on foot and then down, and pitched our tents for the night in a very bare little hollow. We were very sorry for the horses; it was sad to see them turning over the stones, and we longed for some real horse food for them. The soldiers sent a letter to Sheher to announce our arrival, and they wished to send for more soldiers, but we begged them not to do so, as they were quite useless. Seid-bin-Iselem in this lonely spot came to Saleh and wanted some money to buy something, where there was no one to sell. Saleh said the money was still in his box, and to make his words good smuggled it in again, in a most clumsy but quite successful way. Ali's secret had twice to be threatened, next morning, for different reasons before we could start, and then they all roared that they would none of them carry our chairs. We all travelled on foot still, as there was much climbing to do. We climbed down 2,000 feet, very steep in parts, to Gambla. Gambla is a verdant and palmy place where we could buy so much food for our hungry horses that at length my Basha turned his back on his big pile, and came with long green streamers hanging from his sated mouth to doze beside me. There was a struggle, of course, to stay the night at Gambla, and we were told we could not reach Ghail Babwazir till very late, but we said we did not care how late, and Ali was once more privately drawn aside, and again threatened about the twelve dollars, so it was agreed we should go on. We waited, however, a long time, and seeing no camels collected to load I said very loud, 'Call all the Hamoumi together here, and tell Ali that the very last moment has come.' Ali rushed about, and soon had us on our way. CHAPTER XV RETRIBUTION FOR OUR FOES We reached Ghail Babwazir in three hours, at half-past five, passing through several oases. It is a large town. Some children, as I came round a corner, cried, 'Let us flee! here is a demon' (_afrit_). All the guns of our escort were fired, and we were ushered into a house, where there was a good-sized room with some matting. We were all very tired, hot and hungry, but alas for Arab hospitality! No coffee was brought, not even water, and when our servants asked for water and wood--'Show us first your money' was the answer they got. We had a very public visit from the governor, who is called sultan, and who asked us if we had had a pleasant journey, and wondered how we could have been so many days on the road. He was told of all our troubles, and took the Hamoumi, Mohammad, who shot at us, a prisoner, and his _jembia_ (or as they say in Southern Arabia _ghembia_), without which he is ashamed to be seen, was given into my husband's custody. Our expedition all passed a peaceful night, thankful to be in security after eighteen days of anxiety, never knowing what ambushes we might be led into; but Talib we heard did not sleep at all and was quite ill from fright, as contrary to his wishes he was, said the sultan, to be taken to Sheher with us on the morrow. Ghail Babwazir is an oasis or series of oases of rank fertility, caused by a stream the water of which is warm and bitter, and which is conducted by channels cut in the rock in various directions. Acres and acres of tobacco, bananas, Indian corn, cotton, and other crops are thus produced in the wilderness, and this cultivation has given rise to the overgrown village. The stream was discovered about five hundred years ago by one Sheikh Omar, and before that time all this part was waste ground. This fertilising spring rises under a hill to the east, where a large reservoir has been dug out. Above on the hill are some Arab ruins, places where things were stored, and there is a road up. Canals cut some twenty feet deep, like the _kanats_ of Persia, conduct the water to the fields. The chief product is tobacco, known as Hamoumi tobacco. Our roof happened to command a view of the terrace where a bride and her handmaidens were making merry with drums and coffee. In spite of the frowns and gesticulations of the order-keeper, who flourished her stick at us and bade us begone, we were able to get a peep, forbidden to males, at the blushing bride. She wore on her head large silver bosses like tin plates, her ears were weighed down with jewels, her fingers were straight with rings, and her arms a mass of bracelets up to the elbow, and her breast was hidden by a multiplicity of necklaces. Her face, of course, was painted yellow, with black lines over her eyes and mouth like heavy moustaches, and from her nose hung something which looked to us like a gold coin. The bride herself evidently had no objection to my husband's presence, but the threatening aspect of her women compelled us reluctantly to retire. On the 29th we set out for Sheher, or Shaher Bander as it is called, a most cheerful set of people, at least as far as our own immediate party was concerned; some of the others had little cause for pleasant anticipations. We were in advance of the baggage camels, riding our horses and donkey, and accompanied by Talib, without his dagger, on his camel. Matthaios, the Jabberi, and the soldiers surrounding the prisoner Mohammad, attached by a long rope to my husband's horse, an arrangement not invented by my husband, but which we enjoyed very much, and no wonder, after all we had suffered! The servants all thought that as soon as might be after getting to Sheher we should take ship for Aden, and many were the plans made for vengeance upon Saleh once he was safe in our clutches on board that ship. We, however, had quite another design, which was that my husband and Imam Sharif and I should go off to Bir Borhut, if the safety of our lives could in any way be guaranteed, we taking only Noura, one of the Indian servants, as our own attendant. Of course the others would be with their master. Several times we went by small passes through gypsum hills, lovely to behold, and twice we passed water, not so bitter as Ghail Babwazir. We had plenty of up and down hill, but never had to dismount. The way was, for the most part, arid and uninteresting. Four years before, in these passes, the Hamoumi had attacked a caravan and killed nine men, taking eighty camels and 2,000 rupees. They must have had _siyara_, though, from some tribe. Each tribe has its fixed tariff. The Hamoumi have twenty-seven dollars, the Jabberi seventy, the Tamimi one hundred, &c., and when this sum is paid, if you have only one of each tribe with you, you are safe. When we had gone two-thirds of our way we reached a palm-shadowed village called Zarafa. Here we went into a house to eat our luncheon and obtain some coffee, which had to be prepaid. We reached Sheher about four o'clock. The last three miles, going eastward, were close along the shore at low tide. It was quite delightful, and we were very much amused at all the crabs we put to flight. We were very glad to dismount in the middle of the town, at the gate of an old castle, and were shown up into a room about 50 feet by 30 feet, with a good many chairs, tables, and sofas, arranged stiffly, and all dusty. Indian cotton carpets covered the floor, and there was a great number of very common lamps with lustres. We waited wearily nearly an hour, while the Sultan Hussein Mia and his brother, Sultan Ghalib Mia, put on their best clothes, and at last we became so out of patience that my husband sent a message to the wazir, asking him to be kind enough to send a man to point out to us a spot where we might pitch our tents, and an answer then was returned that the sultans were coming. When they appeared, very gorgeous, our letter from Aden was given, with that from Sultan Salàh of Shibahm, and my husband requested leave to make a camp. Sultan Hussein looked round him and asked if this room would not do? Imam Sharif explained to him that we were rather a large party for such accommodation (the whole of our expedition being then present in the room), that we should require separate apartments, and, therefore, would prefer a private house. We were given tea in crockery of the commonest kind; I had an odd cup and saucer which both leaked badly, and I feared my cup would fall into four pieces, but they had come from afar, and I dare say the sultans would be astonished at the care we take of cracked cups from foreign parts. We were then led on foot quite to the other side of the town, where there was a 'summer-house' partly constructed and partly furnished, the builders were on one side and we on the other. We had a room with a carpet, a settee, and two little tables, and set up our own beds and chairs. We had rather a good dinner served by an Indian butler who could talk English, so we had hopes of being very comfortable. The summer-house at that time consisted of two very long rooms back to back, and several rooms at each end projecting so as to form a verandah for each of the long rooms. The back one was quite unfinished then, and upstairs there were only rudimentary walls traced out, three or four feet high. There was a great square wall surrounding a piece of desert in process of being transformed into a garden; the sea sand came quite up to the wall. We found the heat intense, so we had our tent somehow fastened up on the roof to sleep. All the sides had to be tied up for coolness, but the defences against mosquitoes and fleas were very stifling. Goats had been kept on the roof, and hence the fleas. We could only stay there till sunrise, and then had to betake ourselves to our suffocating room, to find the flies wide awake. We had to use our mosquito curtains by day on their account. In Shibahm the mosquitoes are awake by day only, and at Aden both by day and night. Imam Sharif found great favour in the eyes of the two sultans, who asked him to supper every day. The conversations he had with them about us, and the letters they had received from their cousin at Shibahm, did us far more good than the letter from the wali of Aden. They said this gave them no idea other than that my husband was 'only a merchant' or a person of that rank. They were very hospitable to us while we were in their town. They examined into our complaints with regard to the treatment we had experienced on our journey. Mohammad, who had shot at us, and Ali, the one who had extorted the money from us, were both imprisoned, and this money was made to pay for our last two days' journey. Talib was forced to repay the thirty dollars and sent to summon the heads of those villages which had fired upon us, his sword being taken from him as a disgrace, and all were to wait in Sheher, till after Ramadan was over, to be judged. This, of course, was pleasing to us; however, no money could repay us for the anxiety of this journey under the protection of the Jabberi, and we considered it as quite the worst experience we had ever undergone in the course of any of our travels. On reflection we could attribute these troubles neither to any indiscretion on our part, nor to neglect of care on the part of the sultan of Shibahm. We have always been perfectly polite in respecting the prejudices of the inhabitants of the countries through which we have travelled, never, on the one hand, classing all non-Europeans as 'natives' and despising high and low alike as inferior to ourselves in intelligence and everything else, nor, on the other, feeling that, having seen a few men, not quite as white as ourselves, in no matter what country or continent, we thoroughly understood how to manage 'these niggers.' Sultan Salàh did, assuredly, his very uttermost to secure our safety and comfort, quite disinterestedly. He absolutely refused to take a sum of money, saying, 'I want nothing, I have plenty.' When we determined to have some money melted and to have a silver-gilt present made for him, he heard of our vain inquiries for a non-existent jeweller, and earnestly begged that we would do no such thing. 'He loved the English, and only asked that my husband would mention him favourably to the English Government'--and this favourable mention has gained him nothing. If when my husband asked that a reliable interpreter should be recommended to him, he had been sent a man favourably disposed towards ourselves, and capable of inspiring respect in others, instead of a little clerk, aged twenty, from a coal-office, a fanatical Moslem who hated his employers, we should have been in a much better position, and have been able to pass on from the Jabberi to the Hamoumi, whereas travelling with the Jabberi through the Hamoumi country we had to encounter their enemies as well as our own. Sheher is a detestable place by the sea, set in a wilderness of sand. Once it was the chief commercial port of the Hadhramout valley, but now Makalla has quite superseded it, for Sheher is nothing but an open roadstead with a couple of _baggalas_ belonging to the family of Al Kaiti, which generally have to go to Hami to shelter, and its buildings are now falling into ruins, since the Kattiri were driven away. Why anyone should choose such a place for a town, and continue to live in it, is mysterious. It is a place so unpleasant with flies and fleas, that the inhabitants often go to sleep on the seashore. The doors of the houses are very prettily carved all over, also the cupboards, and lintels to doors; we tried to buy some but could not. They have texts from the Koran carved on them. We were not allowed to buy them for fear we should work magic with them. There is a very picturesque mosque with a sloping minaret, white domes, palm-trees, and a well, and hard by a house we saw a miniature mosque--a sort of doll's house--built for children who play at prayers. They can just crawl into it. It is hung with lamps, and the children make mud pies of various shapes, which they put in it. Especially during Ramadan they are encouraged to play at mosque, and the lamps are lit up every evening. It is 3 feet high and 3 feet square, and has its little dome, minaret, and parapet like other mosques. There is an imposing gateway to the town--but built in a kind of Romanesque style which does not suit Arabia--with long guard-houses on each side, and various quaint weapons and powder-flasks hung upon it. Ghalib, the eldest son and heir of the chief of the Al Kaiti family, ruled here as the vicegerent of his father, who is in India as _jemadar_ or general of the Arab troops, nearly all Hadhrami, in the service of the Nizam of Hyderabad. Ghalib was quite an oriental dandy, who lived a life of some rapidity when in India, so that his father thought it as well to send him to rule in Sheher, where the opportunities for mischief are not so many as at Bombay. He dressed very well in various damask silk coats and faultless trousers of Indian cut, his swords and daggers sparkled with jewels, in his hand he flourished a golden-headed cane, and as the water is hard at Sheher, he sends his dirty linen in dhows to Bombay to be washed. He was exceedingly good to us, and as we wanted to go along the coast for about eighty miles, to get a sight of the mouth of the Hadhramout valley near Saihut, where it empties itself into the Indian Ocean, he arranged that the chief of the dreaded Hamoumi tribe should personally escort us, so that there might be no further doubt about our safety. Sultan Hussein had married a daughter of Sultan Salàh two years before, when she was eleven years old. The Al Kaiti family have bought up property all round the town, and talked of laying out streets and bringing water to Sheher. We heard that one brother had to have all his share in money, and had twenty-two lacs of rupees, about 150,000_l_. We became very tired of Sheher before we finally left, having to stay a week, while arrangements were made for our onward way, and on account of Ramadan no communications could be held with anyone, or business be done till sunset. We seemed all day to be the only people alive, and then at night we could hardly sleep for the noise. Our only pleasures were walks at sunset along the sand, picking up lovely shells and watching the crabs, and we used to sneak out as quietly as we could for fear of being pursued by soldiers. Our little walks were very much shortened when we had an armed escort dogging our steps. Once we got a mile away but were fetched back for fear of the Hamoumi, Sheher being quite on the frontier. There is a round, black basaltic mountain which they call the Hamoumi mountain. The Hamoumi tribe occupy nearly all the mountainous district east of Sheher, between the Hadhramout valley and the sea, and they are reported to be very powerful. Next to them come the tribe of Mahra. Even Sultan Ghalib himself cannot ride far out of his capital unprotected, because the Hamoumi are his foes. We tried to get leave to go to Saihut in the Mahri country, but that was impossible, and at last it really was settled that we should go to Bir Borhut and Kabr Houd. We were highly delighted, and fear broke out badly again among the servants, who dreaded the very name of those places. They gladly took permission to remain behind. All arrangements about _siyara_ were made, and we were never to stop more than one night anywhere, and to return by a different way, and the day of departure was settled; but the day before that fixed, it became apparent that we Christians could by no means be permitted to go near Kabr Houd, and that the time occupied for the journey would now be thirty-one days, and we must wait till after Ramadan. It was to be a mere journey without our seeing anything that we wanted to see, and it was getting very late and hot, and we did not feel we could spend so long a time for so little; therefore we gave up all idea of seeing Bir Borhut and Kabr Houd that year. It was to have cost us 670 dollars, at seven to the pound sterling. By the way, Maria Theresa dollars are always spoken of as _reals_. You have to buy them dear, two rupees and a varying amount of annas, and are told they are very hard to get. They are tied up in bags, and you may very well trust the banker for the number of coins; but if you are wise you will examine them all, for any dirty ones, or any that are the least worn or obliterated, or that have any cut or mark on them, will be rejected and considered bad in the interior. When you return to civilisation you hasten to the banker to change these dollars, and you sell them cheap, for you are told that there is now little demand for dollars, they are quite going out of use and rupees only are used--quite a fable. No matter how many extra annas you may have paid, the dollar only passes for two rupees in the interior. We lost 1,100 rupees on this one journey between our departure from Aden and our return to Aden. We next settled to go to Mosaina along the coast, and still to start on the appointed day. Therefore we were up betimes (what little baggage we were to take being bound in bundles the day before), packed our beds, and then we waited; it was not certain till four o'clock that no camels were coming. No one could do anything, as the sultan had no power beyond his own dominions, and the camel-men were all foreigners. However, next morning seven camels came and we were quickly on the road, causing great terror to the crabs. When I say the road I mean the sand at low tide. We had the chief of all the Hamoumi with us, a very old, rich, and dirty man, but most precious to us as a safeguard. Two of his sons were kept as hostages in Sheher till we should return in peace. We also had the governor of Kosseir with us, as well as men of the various little tribes whose country we were to traverse, as _siyara_. The camels and _siyara_ cost twelve dollars. The camels were hired by the job, twelve days, so it would not pay them to dawdle. We had told the sultans how Saleh had behaved and asked them to keep him under their eyes till our return, and this is how we managed without him as interpreter. We talked English to Imam Sharif, he talked Hindustani to his Afghan servant Majid, Majid talked his own tongue to an Afghan whom we annexed at Sheher, and he could speak Arabic. We got on very well, but as such a party had to be assembled to say important things, we had to struggle to express simple things ourselves. CHAPTER XVI COASTING EASTWARD BY LAND The journey was delightful, nearly all the way by the edge of the sea, past miles and miles of little mounds thrown up by the crabs in making their holes: daily they make them, and they are daily washed away by the tide. They live in holes higher up, but these are refuges for the day while they are scavenging in the sea. They were nearly under the feet of the horses. Near Sheher we passed the mouth of the Arfa river, where there is water, and near it are horribly smelling tanks where they make fish oil. We had to make a deviation of two miles inland to cross the estuary of the Wadi Gherid, and then go down to the sea again, but the last mile was over a low cliff covered with a smash of huge shells. It must be a furious place in a storm. We passed a wretched hamlet consisting of a few arbours and a well, whose waters are both bitter and salt. Hami (hot), where we stopped, is sixteen miles from Sheher. It is most picturesquely situated at the foot of some low spurs, volcanic in nature, and is fertilised by a stream so very hot that you can hardly put your hands in it; indeed, in the tanks where it is collected in large volume, it is quite impossible. It is much cooler in the little irrigation channels, which have hard beds from the incrustation of the sulphur. The water is very nasty when hot, but much better when it cools. We did not enjoy our tea at all in Hami. We were encamped in a delightful spot under both date and cocoanut-trees, and hot baths were a pleasure to everyone. I had to wait a long time till mine in the tent was cool enough. There was a great flutter when we arrived on the scene, for there were a large number of women and girls bathing. They did not seem to mind their own relations seeing them, but on our approach they rushed into their blue dresses and fled. This sulphureous stream makes the crops grow prodigiously, and we walked through fields of jowari and Indian corn as high as our heads. At our camp we had a delicious sea-breeze, but in our walks abroad we got an occasional whiff of the little fish which were being boiled down to make oil for lamps and colours used in ship-painting. We paid a visit to the governor of Hami, who received us on the roof of his house, where many were assembled, and scarcely had he greeted us when they all fell to praying, the mollah standing in front to lead, and all the others standing in a row behind. After that they gave us coffee with no sugar, followed by tea with far too much, and they pressed us to stay with them and partake of their evening meal, but we declined politely and retired to our camp. On March 11 we started for Dis without any rows or brawls whatever. Dis is fifteen miles off. We never went down to the shore at all that day, but travelled over a barren, undulating country which runs out to sea and forms Ras Bagashwa. We went for half a mile close above the sea on a cliff 20 or 30 feet high, with many shells, some in an ordinary state, some half petrified, and some wholly so, but none embedded in the stone. After travelling three hours and a half we passed over and amongst a range of low hills, a volcanic jumble with earths of all colours, seams of gypsum stuck up edgeways, and many other things. I used once to sigh and groan over not having brought a geologist with us, but I was wiser by that time. It was enough to think of his specimens and their transport, to say nothing of the responsibility for his safety. Still my husband and I often wished we knew more of geology than we did. When the geologist does visit these parts he must make a special bargain with his camel-men, not based on his apparent, present, visible baggage, but upon what it may expand to. He might arrange to pay at the end according to the results of his journey. On one of the dreadful days with the Jabberi, the man whose camel carried the botanical boxes positively refused to load up, on account of having seen stones with lichen put in; and but for the fact of his being last and that all the other camels had started, we might have had to throw the things away. There was nothing to see at Dis but a sudden oasis of fertility caused by a _ghail_, but the report of an inscription led my husband a long wild-goose chase. The district is very populous, and from the old forts near it evidently has been and is a very prosperous place. We had a great many patients, and were nearly driven wild with starers. To avoid the crowd we pitched our tent tight up against a field of sugar-canes, but so anxious were the populace to see me, that the whole field was trodden down and no one seemed to mind. There were perpetual shouts for the 'woman' to come out. On this part of the journey, as well as in the Hadhramout, I was always simply spoken of as the _Horma_ (plur. _Harem_) and never as _Bibi_ (lady). There were some very light-skinned Arabs at Dis, with long dark hair, which they dress with grease, wearing round their neck a cocoanut containing a supply of this toilet-requisite for the purpose. Most of them affect red plaid cotton turbans and waist-cloths, a decided relief to the eye from the perpetual indigo. We had a very damp night, not from rain but from dew, though there is more rain in this part than in the interior. We had an uninteresting march next day, over desert and many stones, up and down hill, past a village called Ghaida, and went somewhat out of our way to see a rock with bitumen or asphalte oozing out of it. We went fifteen miles and encamped near Bagashwa on the margin of a large and pretty pool made by recent rains, with bushes round it. Though pretty, this pool was not clean. Almost before we could dismount the camels were unloaded and in it, my horse immediately followed, and likewise all the camel-men, and by the time our vessels could be unpacked to fetch the drinking water, the soldiers were washing their clothes, consequently our water was turbid and of mingled flavours. Later my husband took a bath, and said he felt as if he was sitting in warm oil. My horse, for two days after this, was afflicted with a mysterious bleeding from the mouth which we did not till then discover was caused by three leeches under his tongue. We did not like to put the bit in, so the immense iron ring which was usually round his chin hung round his neck and clanked like the clapper of a bell, while the nose was thrust through that part meant for his ears. Some pastoral Bedouin were encamped near here, whose abodes are about the simplest I ever saw: just four posts stuck in the ground with a roof of mats to afford some shelter from the sun; on this roof they hang their cooking utensils, their only impedimenta when they move. One old woman was boiling a pot of porridge, another was grinding grain on a stone, another was frying little fish on a stick, whilst the men were engaged in picketing the kids on a rope with a very loose noose round each little neck, and preparing the oil-cakes for their camels. We had just sunlight left to photograph them, and perpetuate the existence of this most primitive life. Young camels are reared here. We were so lucky as to discover a scorpion that had travelled in our tent from Dis, before it could do us harm. That day one of the Bedou soldiers came to me and asked me in a confidential sort of whisper, 'Are you a man or a woman?' We were five hours on our journey to Kosseir (11 miles), which was our next stage, over stones first, then over heavy sand to the shore again. There were not so many shells, seaweeds, corals, crabs, madrepores, sponges, and flamingoes as we had seen near Sheher, but hundreds of seagulls sitting in the shallow water, and quantities of porpoises. The lobster-shells which lie about are a beautiful blue mixed with red. The great stretch of basalt which runs for fully fifteen miles along the coast, with Kosseir in the middle, caused us to mount on to the rocks some little distance before reaching Kosseir, and when we got quite near we sat on a rocky hillock, contemplating the town and awaiting our _kafila_, that we might arrive with all the dignity due to the governor. All our baggage was on five camels and the old sultan of the Hamoumi on the sixth, so we really need not have had the seventh. That dirty old Bedou owns many houses in Ghail Babwazir and other places. The governor was a very thin old man very like Don Quixote, his scanty hair and beard dyed red with henna. He had been governor five years before, and was now reappointed at the request of the town, so great were the rejoicings, manifested by the firing of many guns. Some came to meet him at the rock, some stayed in the town, some appeared on the tops of the numerous towers, but no matter where they were, one and all, as well as those who came with us, fired off their guns whenever they liked, under our noses, in and from every direction. Our animals did not mind one bit. The governor and all the foot-passengers arrived in the town with their feet twice the natural size from the clinging mud, through which we had to pass, and which necessitated great scraping of feet and picking out between toes with daggers. We were most pleasantly received and taken upstairs in the governor's castle to a roofless room with a kind of shed along one side, and here we subsided on mats, very hot, and soon a most powerfully strong tincture of tea with much sugar, ginger, and cinnamon was administered to us; and though the kind old governor was so busy being welcomed by his happy old friends, he was always coming to see that we were properly attended to. We had our camp in his yard, where we had a very comfortable room, and enjoyed having his wall round us very much. In the evening we went on the shore and about the town. The town is on a small point and approached from the west it seems to 'lie four-square' and to present a very strong appearance, 'with its yetts, its castle, and a'.' We rode in by the gate on the northern side and were surprised to find that the side towards the sea had no wall, but only four detached towers. There were fishing-boats on the beach, with the planks just sewn together with cords. The long line of black basalt, jutting into capes here and there, is thought by the Arabs to be formed by the ashes of infidel towns. The tiny port of Kosseir is just a nook where the boats can nestle behind a small, low, natural breakwater of the basalt. Boats lie on either side, according to the wind. Next we went to Raida, three hours all along the top of the cliff; the old Hamoumi sultan was with us, of course, otherwise there would have been no safety for us beyond Kosseir. We had a dreadful experience passing the village of Sarrar. The smell from the cemetery was so awful that even the Bedouin had to hold their noses for many yards on both sides of it. The village of Sarrar only consists of three large mud houses and a good many bamboo shanties. We were amused by a man whom we met alone, his terror of us was so great. As we approached he lit his match, got his gun all ready, and left the path seeking cover, but our people shouted: 'What good can you do? You are one and we are many, and besides we mean you no harm!' so he came forward, and there was great laughter both at and with him. Raida is a large fishing village. Certainly there are strange eaters in these parts. The Ichthyophagoi here prefer their fish generally in a decayed state; and one of our Hamoumi soldiers had a treat of lizards, which he popped in the fire to roast and ate whole. We did not get much farther eastward that year, only two hours farther to Rakhmit, a very uninteresting journey, but we were buoyed up by hopes of some very delightful inscriptions that were described to us: one on the way to Mosaina, to which we were supposed to be going that day, and another in a cave, quite close to Mosaina. When we reached the river-bed at Rakhmit, a spot in the mountains about five miles off was pointed out; so after very much and long consultation with the aged sultan, we decided it would be safer to camp where we were, see Mosaina next day, and return to the same camp. However, when we were quite prepared to go the five miles, it appeared that it might be dangerous. It was in the country of no one then present, so we could have no _siyara_, and the old Hamoumi chief said it would be bad for his sons, the hostages; so this plan had to be abandoned. Afterwards it was revealed to us that the cave is twenty miles from Mosaina on the akaba, that there is no water near, no village at Mosaina, no means of getting forage; so, as in that case farther progress was useless, as well as impossible, we proposed to return the following day to Kosseir, helping ourselves, if possible, with a boat from Raida. It took us three hours to return to Raida, where an old seyyid took us into his house and led us to a little clean room, 10 feet by 6 feet, and there we settled down on the matting to rest and have our luncheon till one o'clock, when we started, leaving the baggage camels to follow. How thankful we were that, tastes differing, there were people in Arabia who could look upon us as harmless and pleasant individuals. Everyone had been nice to us, and we had had no difficulties whatever, and been treated like human beings, just because we had not that horrid little Saleh Hassan with us. The more civil people were to us the more enraged we were with him, and I think if the servants had carried out their threats against him when he should be on the dhow, the masters would not have interfered. It is fifteen miles from Raida to Kosseir. We were quite determined, after the severe lesson we had had two days previously, to go to windward of Sarrar. When we passed a well there I was requested to detach myself from the party and go and let some women see me, and then the soldiers begged that I would show off Basha prancing about that the women might see that I did not want holding on, and finally they shouted 'Shilloh!' to make him gallop away, amid screams of delight. I dare say these women had never seen a horse. The sultans at Sheher had only three. We had already sent Zubda back to Al Koton. The soldiers were very fond of terrifying my horse, when passing a village and I wanted to stare about, to show him off. In avoiding Sarrar we got into great difficulties with the loose sand. We went over it half a mile, and when we reached the sea there was so narrow a strip of firm sand that, our animals being too much afraid of the rising tide, we had to make our way up again. We reached Kosseir about half-past five, warmly welcomed by Don Quixote, who gave us coffee while awaiting our _kafila_, which was, to our surprise and delight, only half an hour behind us, not having been fighting with the sand. We were made more angry with Saleh by finding that water, wood, forage, eggs, fish, and a little milk had been prepared for us beforehand. My night was disturbed by the old Hamoumi chief choosing the eave of our tent just beside my ear to say his prayers. Quiet nights, however, must not be expected in Ramazan. Next morning we were off at eight, of course dragging the poor wizened old gentleman with us on a camel, two hours (6 miles) up the Wadi Shirwan to see a ruin at the village of Maaber, where there is a running stream. At the entrance to Wadi Shirwan the ruins are situated. They consist of a large fort, circular on one side and about 40 feet in diameter, built of round, water-worn stones set in very strong cement, dating from the same period as those at Ghail Babwazir. Evidently the mediæval inhabitants of Arabia chose these two points for good water. Tobacco is also grown here, besides other things. The water is really good and sweet. We behaved with the greatest temerity in entering these ruins; no one now living had been in before we did. The building is the abode of _jinni_, and no one who goes in is ever able to come out by the same door. We were so fortunate as to be able to do so. On the road we saw a stone, and were told that a _jinni_ (or _ghinni_ as they are called in Southern Arabia) was bringing this to help to build the fort when he was met by another _jinni_ who said, 'Why do you bring stones when the fort is finished?' so he dropped it in disgust. _Jinni_ are able to get sufficiently near to heaven to hear the conversation of the angels, and there are various incantations to make them reveal the whereabouts of hidden treasures. One called _darb el mendel_, carried on with a handkerchief, is much in vogue. Maaber nestles under a big pointed rock on the highland, which sticks up aloft, and to which we heard that the Kafirs used to tie their horses. Bottles were stuck into the graves as ornaments, and built on to the tops of buildings. We rested beneath a b'dom-tree, which showered its little fruits on us, and made as many inquiries as possible in a crowd of starers who were all very polite. We heard that Wadi Shekhavi is the end of Wadi Mosila. It runs parallel to, and is almost as large as, the Wadi Hadhramout. Ghail Benzamin is the principal town in it. At last, feeling that our work and our researches were as thoroughly done as in our power lay, we arose and turned our faces toward England. CHAPTER XVII COASTING WESTWARD BY SEA Though we rose so early next morning that we dressed by candle-light, we were not up nearly so early as Imam Sharif, who, being sleepy and misled by a candle in our tent, aroused his followers and made them light their fire for breakfast at midnight. Kind old Don Quixote and many others walked with us a mile to Ras Dis, where we were to embark; this is the harbour of the town of Kosseir. Ras Dis is not near Dis, as Ras Bagashwa runs out between them. Probably before the interstices of the black rock were filled up there may have been a decent harbour for small craft. Two forts guard the way to Ras Dis, and near it are two wali's or sheikh's tombs which afford perfectly safe store-places to the fishermen. All their gear, anchors, ropes, sails, wood, fish, and what not are heaped round the tombs, and none dare touch them. Having been carried into a filthy boat, we scrambled into a _sambouka_ crammed and stuffed with the baggage--eight passengers, including the Afghan interpreter. There was a little deck 3 feet by 4 feet at its widest, where Imam Sharif and I were packed, the steersman sitting in a little angle, leaning against my gaiters. About ten o'clock Matthaios began to make some tea, but soon had to retreat to the bow very sick. My husband finished this cookery, and from a small hole in the baggage handed me what little food he could reach, but soon everyone was expanded over the baggage, no one having room for his legs. Imam Sharif was soon a wretched heap, and not an appetite was left among our party but my husband's and mine. We had nothing but a little _halwa_ (a sweetmeat) and no water, till the end of our eighteen hours' voyage, so we rather envied the others who seemed unconscious of the smells of cockroaches, bilge-water, and fish oil, as well as of the great heat, for we had no awning. The wind was favourable, but there was little of it, and fearing it would fail entirely we planned to land, taking food, which would then be attainable, and the one blanket we each had kept out, not knowing how long we should be at sea, and lie in the sand, but we wasted an hour of great trouble in a vain attempt. The shore was too shelving, so we dressed ourselves in our blankets and settled down to catch bugs. We had seen few by day, but by night they kept us busy, for they swarmed over us with their descendants and their remote ancestors. Once we saw some operations which made us think we were going to tack, but to our dismay we perceived the captain hovering over his bedding, and found that he had put the ship to bed, and we were meant to be violently rocked in the cradle of the deep till morning; but he was firmly reasoned with, and at two in the morning, worn and weary, we were borne ashore at Sheher. It being Ramazan, we easily found the Indian cook of the house, and asked for some boiled eggs, but not till four did we get some very nasty fried ones and tea, and then lay down on the floor anyhow, to fight with mosquitoes and fleas, our baggage and beds being still on board; regular quarantine measures were carried out as regards bugs when it came. I felt too weak to stir till luncheon was brought me at twelve, there having been some little difficulty as regarded breakfast. The horse, donkeys, camels, _siyara_ people, and soldiers all came in by land next day. A period of waiting and hoping for a ship to take us to Aden now set in. Our annoyances were rather aggravated by some Indian converts to Mohammedanism being taught their prayers well within our hearing. A promising ship was said to have gone to Hami for water, and anxiously we turned our eyes in that direction for three days, till we were in such desperation that my husband went down to find any small boat to take us as far as Makalla, but the ship had come at last and we were able to leave. Hussein Mia and Ghalib Mia took leave of us with much friendliness and hopes of seeing us the following year, which they did. Mia is a kind of title. We were told that the captain had gone on board with the baggage, but we found it covering a vast expanse of sand, live hens, dead foxes, swords, spears, and other strange things making it look very unlike Christian baggage. We also had quantities of cocoanuts, that we might have some palatable water on the voyage. A bargain was made with much shouting in a great crowd, to put us and all belonging to us on board for four dollars. I was quietly looking on when a man came suddenly behind me and whipped me up, seated me on his shoulder and carried me off into the sea. It required all my balance to keep safe when so suddenly seized. I did not know I was being scrambled for as the lightest person. I hate that way of being carried, with my five fingers digging into the skull of my bearer, with one of his wrists placed lightly across my ankles, while he holds up his clothes with the other; and I do not like being perched between the elbows of two men, whose hands are clasped far beneath me, while I clutch their dirty throats. It is much nicer to be carried in both arms like a baby. Our ship lay tossing so far out that we had to be put in a good large boat first and as I sat amidships I was well ducked when those who had been pushing the boat off all jumped in, shedding sheets of water from their garments. Our ship did not look smart; on the contrary it looked so untidy that it had a kind of mossy, woolly, licheny appearance. There was no ladder, so it was rather hard to climb up the side in that uneasy sea. My first care was to scramble up ropes and various other things to survey the little deck, sure that Saleh had taken care of himself. There were two charpoys or stretchers tied one to each side of this little deck, and we determined that Imam Sharif should have one, and the 'botanist' the other. Saleh's things were settled on the latter. I at once ousted them and lay down till the proper occupant appeared, looking evidently anxious to assume a recumbent position. Saleh then put himself and his property in a place which I told him was inconvenient as no one could pass. 'I only stay here a little while,' he said. 'Mr. Lunt has my place.' 'Your place!' I said. 'How did you get a place?' 'I told the _Nakhoda_ to keep that place for me.' I said, 'Had you first asked Mr. Bent where he wished you to sleep or where he wished Mr. Lunt to sleep?' 'No.' 'Well remember that Mr. Bent is master on board this ship and I am mistress,' I said. 'I have given that bed to Mr. Lunt, and you can go _there_, and as you have a habit of spitting on floors and carpets you will now spit overboard or you will move.' So Saleh began to take a back seat. He was positively afraid to be among the servants. Any excitement at sea is welcome, so we now began to take a great interest in him and Mahmoud. We were quite anxious as to whether they would be sea-sick or not. You might wonder why we cared, but this is the reason. If they were sea-sick their fast of Ramazan would be broken, and all their previous fasting would go for nothing; they would gain nothing by going on with it, and might eat as much as they liked. All the Indian party had taken advantage of the excuse of travelling to eat as usual. Mahmoud soon broke down and rejoiced greatly thereafter, but Saleh reached the end of the day and his evening meal in safety, but his fast came to an abrupt termination early in the morning. Does it not seem a wildly funny idea that putting food into your mouth by the back door (the throat) involuntarily should be quite as bad for your soul as voluntarily putting it in at the front door (the lips)? We started at half-past five and reached Makalla at sunrise the following morning, Easter Sunday, March 25. Our arrival being announced, the Sultan Manassar invited us to see him, and he and his ugly sons were all dressed up again, and we had tea and _halwa_. Saleh kept running about trying to whisper to all the wazirs. My husband kept him under his eye as much as possible, but once he escaped and ran back and begged the sultan for a box of honey and a carpet. He only got the former, so he returned and was very abusive to my husband, saying it was his fault; I told him he could say what he liked at Aden, but had better be quiet as long as he was on the sea with us. My husband graciously gave permission to ship a cargo of frankincense, and the ship was filled with delightfully sweet, clean bales, on which our luggage and men could be accommodated, and we were glad of the ballast. We had three more days and nights on the sea, and during the last had a miserable fear of a calm; but at last a fine wind sprang up and we whizzed along, all sitting up in our beds, loudly rejoicing with one another on the prospects of our arrival at the haven where we would be, which took place at sunrise on March the 27th. I am thankful to say that the work of our expedition was successful in all its branches; but what we should have done without Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur, I cannot tell. He was the greatest help to us in every way, and it was an untold comfort to have one brave person as anxious to get on as ourselves. I have always been sorry that the map was made on so small a scale--eight miles to an inch. It would have been more useful to future travellers had it been larger. The spelling had, of course, to be according to the ancient Indian method, and not that now recommended by the Royal Geographical Society, to which I have adhered myself. The year before, when we were embarking for England on board a Messageries steamer at Aden, we noticed an Indian gentleman standing in the angle of the landing of the ladder to let us and our baggage pass, and little we thought how well we should know that Indian gentleman, and he on his side had no inkling how far he would travel, two successive years, with all that baggage around him; it would have been so interesting could we have guessed. Imam Sharif was returning from Zanzibar, and leaving that ship to tranship for India. [Illustration: MAP OF DHOFAR AND THE GARA-RANGE. From a Survey by Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur. TO ILLUSTRATE THE EXPLORATIONS OF M^r. J. THEODORE BENT. _Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_ London: Smith, Elder & Co.] DHOFAR AND THE GARA MOUNTAINS CHAPTER XVIII MERBAT AND AL HAFA After returning from our expedition to the Hadhramout in 1894 we determined the next winter to attempt the ambitious adventure of making a journey overland right across Southern Arabia from Maskat to Aden. On our way we hoped to revisit the Hadhramout, to explore those portions which we had been compelled to leave unvisited the former winter, and so to fill up the large blank space which still exists on the map of this country. Experience taught us that our plan was impracticable; the only possible way of making explorations in Arabia is to take it piecemeal, to investigate each district separately, and by degrees to make a complete map by patching together the results of a number of isolated expeditions. Indeed, this is the only satisfactory way of seeing any country, for on a great through journey the traveller generally loses the most interesting details. My husband again, to our great satisfaction, had Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur, placed at his disposal; and, as the longest way round was the quickest and best, we determined to make our final preparations in India, and meet him and his men at Karachi. We left England at the beginning of November 1894, and at Aden, where we were obliged to tranship, we picked up our camp furniture, which we had deposited there on our return from Wadi Hadhramout. Imam Sharif came on board to meet us at Karachi, and we also received a letter inviting us to stay at Government House, where we were most kindly entertained by Mrs. Pottinger, in the absence of her brother, Mr. James, the Commissioner in Scinde. This was very delightful to us, as we had already stayed in Reynolds's Hotel when on our way to Persia. Matthaios had absolutely refused to come with us for fear we should carry out our great wish of going to Bir Borhut, and indeed the very name of '_Aravia_' was odious to him. Of course, being in India, we had to take two men in his place, and accordingly engaged two Goanese, half Portuguese: one Diego S. Anna Lobo, a little old man, as butler, and the other, Domingo de Silva, as cook. The former could speak English and Portuguese; the latter neither, only Hindustani. We took them back to India with us the following spring, keeping Lobo as our servant during the time of our stay there. We had a calm and pleasant voyage of three days to Maskat with Captain Whitehead on the B.I.S.N. steamer _Chanda_, arriving just in time to escape a violent storm, which lasted for days, and in its commencement prevented our landing at the usual place. We had to go round a little promontory. There was also a good deal of rain, which cooled the air considerably. We were the guests of Colonel Hayes Sadler, in his hospitable Residency, and he interested himself kindly in our affairs, giving us all the help he could in our arrangements, as did also Dr. Jayaker, the Indian doctor. We intended first of all to penetrate into the regions of the Jebel Akhdar, and then to pass through the territory of the Jenefa tribe to Ghubbet el Hashish, which takes its name not from land grass, but from seaweed. There a boat was to meet us and take us westward; in this way we should avoid a stretch of desert which the Bedouin themselves shrink from, and which is impassable to Europeans. We could not procure any information about our journey to the Jebel Akhdar, as it does not appear to be the fashion at Maskat to go inland. However, both our old friend the Sultan Feysul and Colonel Sadler took infinite trouble to arrange for our journey; camels were hired and a horse for me, and the sheikhs of the tribes through whose country we should have to pass were summoned to escort us. Owing, however, to the illness of some of our party, we were at the last moment obliged to defer the expedition; though we had made all the preparations we could for the great cold we should have to encounter, the change of climate would have been injurious to Imam Sharif and two of his men. As events proved it was fortunate we did so, for the insurrection (which I have already mentioned) broke out almost immediately afterwards, and in all probability we should not have returned alive to relate our experiences. We next determined to go by sea to Merbat, and thence explore the Dhofar and Gara mountains. The sultan offered us the use of his _batil_, which was preparing to go to Zenghiber, as they call Zanzibar. We found on inspection that it was a small decked boat, with a very light upper deck at the stern, supported by posts. They were busy smearing the ship with fish oil. We were told it might be ready in three days, and we might take seven days or more over the voyage. However, we were delivered from this long voyage, for, unexpectedly, a steamer arrived most opportunely for us. As it was not the pilgrim season, and as there was no cholera about, we ventured on this steamer, which is one of those that ply under the Turkish flag between the Persian Gulf and Jedda. The captain was an Armenian: in fact, all the steamers belonging to Turkey are run by Armenian companies and manned by Armenian sailors. The captain of the _Hodeida_ was not too exorbitant in his demand of 500 rupees to drop our party at Merbat. The steward could fortunately speak Greek. We left Maskat on Monday, December 17, and had a very calm voyage, but this being our fifth steamer since we left home, we were anxious for a little dry land journeying. We saw the high mountains all Tuesday, but nothing on Wednesday after early morning. The coast recedes and becomes low where the desert comes down to the sea. We passed the Kouria Mouria Islands in the night. They are inhabited by the Jenefa tribe, who pursue sharks, swimming on inflated skins. On Thursday we passed very curious scenery, a high akaba, just like the Hadhramout, in the background, and for about a mile between this and the sea a volcanic mass of rocks and peaks and crags of many hues. After passing this we were at our destination, and at three o'clock in the afternoon we left the steamer to land at Merbat. We were conveyed to the shore in three boats, one of which was called 'el liebot.' It is only fair that the English who have borrowed so many nautical terms from the Orientals, should now in their turn provide the Arabian name for a boat. Cutters and jolly-boats have taken their names from 'kattira' and 'jahlibot.' Merbat, which is sixty-four miles from Maskat, is the first point of the Dhofar district after the long stretch of desert has been passed. It is a wretched little spot consisting of some fifty houses and a few Bedou huts, with about two hundred inhabitants. It is built on a tongue of land, which affords shelter for Arab dhows during the north-east monsoon. The water supply is from a pool of brackish water. The excitement caused by the first arrival of a steamer was intense, and tiny craft with naked Bedouin soon crowded round us; after entrusting us to their tender mercies our Armenian captain steamed away, and it was not without secret misgivings that we landed amongst the wild-looking inhabitants who lined the shore. We imagined we were being very kindly received when they pointed out the largest building in the place as our habitation, and my husband, Imam Sharif, our interpreter Hassan, and I joyfully hastened thither. Unfortunately we had no recommendation to the head-man of this place, and he evidently distrusted us, for after taking us to a fort built of mud bricks, which offered ample accommodation for our party, he flatly refused to allow us to have our baggage or our servants therein. After entering a kind of guard-room, we had to plunge to the right into pitchy darkness and stumble along, stretching out our hands like blind men, each taken by the shoulders and pushed and shoved by a roundabout way to a dark inner staircase, where we emerged into the light on some roofs. They wanted us to stay where we were, but not wishing to remain without conveniences, we succeeded in getting between them and the door, and then found our way out of the building and rejoined our servants and our baggage on the beach. We flourished our letter to Wali Suleiman in his face; we expostulated, threatened, and cajoled, and passed a whole miserable hour by the shore, seated on our belongings under the blazing afternoon sun, watching our steamer gradually disappearing in the distance. Hemmed in by Bedouin, who stared at us as if we had come from the moon, exceedingly hot, hungry, and uncomfortable, we passed a very evil time indeed, speculating as to what would be the result of the conclave of the old head-men; but at last they approached us in a more friendly spirit, begged our pardon, and reinstated us in the fort with our bag and baggage, and were as civil as they could be. To our dying day we shall never know what caused us this dilemma. Did they really think we had come to seize their fort (which we afterwards heard was the case), and interfere with their frankincense monopoly? Or did they think we had come to look into the question of a large Arab dhow, which was flying the French flag, and was beached on the shore, and which we had reason to believe was conveying a cargo of slaves to one of the neighbouring markets for disposal? Personally, I suspect the latter was the true reason of their aversion to our presence, for the coast from here to Maskat has a bad reputation in this respect, and just lately Arab slave-dhows have been carrying on their trade under cover of protection obtained from France at Obok and Zanzibar. The inhabitants have plaited hair and knobkerries. I believe they belong to the Jenefa tribe. Finding Merbat so uncongenial an abode, with no points of interest, and with a malarious-looking swamp in its vicinity, and not being able to obtain camels or escort for a journey inland, we determined only to pass one night there, and after wandering about in search of interests which did not exist, we came to terms with the captain of a most filthy baggala to take us along the coast to Al Hafa, the residence of Wali Suleiman, without whose direct assistance we plainly saw that nothing could be done about extending our expedition into the interior. It was only forty miles to Al Hafa, but, owing to adverse winds, it took us exactly two days to perform this voyage, and our boat was one of the dirtiest of the kind we have ever travelled on. In our little cabin in the stern the smell of bilge-water was almost overpowering, and every silver thing we had about us turned black with the sulphureous vapours. These pungent odours were relieved from time to time by burning huge chafing dishes of frankincense, a large cargo of which was aboard for transport to Bombay after we had been deposited at Al Hafa. One of the many songs our sailors sang when changing the flapping sails was about frankincense, so we tried to imagine that we were having a pleasant experience of the country we were about to visit; and even in its dirt and squalor an Arab dhow is a picturesque abode, with its pretty carvings and odd-shaped bulwarks. We were twenty-five souls on board, and our captain and his crew being devout Mohammedans, we had plenty of time and opportunity for studying their numerous prayers and ablutions. The plain of Dhofar, along which we were now coasting, is quite an abnormal feature in this arid coast. It is the only fertile stretch between Aden and Maskat. It is formed of alluvial soil washed down from the Gara mountains; there is abundance of water very near the surface, and frequent streams make their way down to the sea, so that it is green. The great drawback to the country is the want of harbours; during the north-east monsoons dhows can find shelter at Merbat, and during the south-west monsoons at Risout, but the rest of the coast is provided with nothing but open roadsteads, with the surf always rolling in from the Indian Ocean. The plain is never more than nine miles wide, and at the eastern end, where the mountains were nearer to the sea, it is reduced to a very narrow strip, a grand exception to the long line of barren waste which forms the Arabian frontage to the Indian Ocean, and which gets narrower and narrower as the mountains approach the sea at Saihut. Tall cocoanut palms adorn it in clusters, and long stretches of bright green fields refresh the eye; and, at frequent intervals, we saw flourishing villages by the coast. Tobacco, cotton, Indian corn, and various species of grain grow here in great abundance, and in the gardens we find many of the products of India flourishing, viz. the plantain, the papya, mulberries, melons, chillis, brinjols, and fruits and vegetables of various descriptions. We anchored for some hours off one of these villages, and paid our toll of dates to the Bedouin who came off to claim them, as is customary all along this coast, every dhow paying this toll in return for the privilege of obtaining water when they want it. The Gara mountains are now one of the wildest spots in wild Arabia; owing to the disastrous blood feuds amongst the tribe and the insecurity of travel, they had never previously been penetrated by Europeans: all that was known of the district was the actual coast-line. Exciting rumours had reached the ears of Colonel Miles, a former political agent at Maskat, concerning lakes and streams, and fertility unwonted for Arabia, which existed in these mountains, and our appetites were consequently whetted for their discovery. In ancient times this was one of the chief sources of the time-honoured frankincense trade, which still maintains itself here even more than in the Hadhramout. It is carried on by the Bedouin of the Gara tribe, who bring down the odoriferous gum from the mountains on camels. About 9,000 cwt. of it is exported to Bombay annually. Down by the coast at Al Hafa there is a square enclosure or bazaar where piles of frankincense may still be seen ready for exportation, miniature successors of those piles of the tears of gum from the tree-trunks which are depicted on the old Egyptian temple at Deir al Bahari as one of the proceeds of Queen Hatasou's expeditions to the land of Punt. The actual libaniferous country is, perhaps, now not much bigger than the Isle of Wight, and in its physical appearance not unlike it, cut off from the rest of the world by a desert behind and an ocean in front. Probably in ancient days the frankincense-bearing area was not much more extensive. Claudius Ptolemy, the anonymous author of the 'Periplus,' Pliny, Theophrastus, and a little later on the Arabian geographers, speak of it, and from their descriptions there is no difficulty in fixing the limits of it, and its ruined towns are still easily identified. After much tacking and flapping of sails we at last reached Al Hafa, where Wali Suleiman had his castle, only a stone's throw from the beach. Our landing was performed in small, hide-covered boats specially constructed for riding over the surf, and was not completed without a considerable wetting to ourselves and baggage. After so many preliminary discomforts a cordial welcome from the wali was doubly agreeable. He placed a room on the roof, spread with carpets, at our disposal, and he furnished our larder with a whole cow, and every delicacy at his command. The cow's flesh was cut into strips and festooned about in every direction, to dry it for our journey. Our room was, for Arabia, deliciously cool and airy, being approached by a ladder, and from our roof we enjoyed pleasant views over the fertile plain and the Gara mountains, into which we had now every hope of penetrating. We looked down into his courtyard below and saw there many interesting phases of Arab life. Al Hafa is 640 miles from Maskat in one direction and 800 from Aden in the other; it is, therefore, about as far as possible from any civilised place. Nominally it is under the sultan of Oman, and I may here emphatically state that the southern coast of Arabia has absolutely nothing to do with Turkey--from Maskat to Aden there is not a single tribe paying tribute to, or having any communication with, the Ottoman Porte. Really Al Hafa and the Dhofar were ruled over autocratically by Wali Suleiman, who was sent out there about eighteen years before as governor, at the request of the feud-torn inhabitants, by Sultan Tourki of Maskat. In his small way Wali Suleiman was a man of great capacity; a man who has made history, and could have made more if his sphere had been larger. In his youth he was instrumental in placing Tourki on the throne of Oman, and after a few years of stern application to business he brought the bellicose families of the Gara tribe under his power; and his influence was felt far into the interior, even into the confines of Nejd. With a handful of Arabs and a badly armed regiment of slave origin he had contrived to establish peace and comparative safety throughout the Gara mountains and, thanks to him, we were able to penetrate their fastnesses. Wali Suleiman was a stern, uncompromising ruler, feared and respected, rather than loved. The wali kept all his prisoners in the courtyard. When we were there he had twelve, all manacled, and reposing on grass mats at night. These were wicked Bedouin from the mountains, prisoners taken in a recent war he had had with the Mahri tribe, the _casus belli_ being a find of ambergris which the Mahri had appropriated, though it had been washed up on the Dhofar coast. One prisoner, a murderer, whose imprisonment was for two years, was chained to a log of wood, and he laid his mat bed in a large stone sarcophagus, brought from the neighbouring ruins of the ancient capital of the frankincense country, and really intended for a trough. Another, convicted of stealing his master's sword and selling it to the captain of a dhow, had his feet attached to an iron bar, which made his locomotion exceedingly painful. A mollah prisoner was, owing to the sanctity of his calling, unfettered, and he led the evening prayers, and on most nights--for want of something better to do, I suppose--these prisoners of Wali Suleiman prayed and sang into the small hours of the morning. Day by day we watched these unfortunate men from the roof, and thought we had never seen so unholy a set of men, according to what we heard; they did not look so. Some were morose, and chewed the cud of their discontent in corners; the younger and better-looking ones were gallant, and flirted with the slave girls, helping them to draw up buckets from the well in the centre of the courtyard; the active-minded cut wood for the household, and walked about doing odd jobs, holding up the iron bar which separated their feet with a rope as they shuffled along, or played with the wali's little boy, five years of age, who rambled about among them. Goats, kids, cocks, and hens, also occupied this courtyard, and the big, white she-ass, the only representative of the equine race as far as we could see in Dhofar, on which Wali Suleiman makes his state journeys to the various villages in his dominions along the coast, and which he kindly lent to me once when we went to visit the ruins. The ladies of the wali's harem paid me frequent visits, and brought me presents of fruit and embarrassing plates of food, and substances to dye my teeth red (tamboul leaves and lime), but they were uninteresting ladies, and their conversational powers limited to the discussion of the texture of dresses and the merits of European underclothing. On the very first morning they appeared before I was up--that is about sunrise. As I had put them off the evening before, I dared not do so again. My husband sprang out of his bed and got out of their way. I managed to put on a jacket sitting up in bed, and then, finding time allowed, a skirt, and had just got my hair combed down when in they trooped. I knew my shoes and stockings would never be missed, so I felt quite ready for the visit. They wore _bourkos_ on their faces, and had on a great deal of coarse jewellery with mock pearls and bad turquoises. Whenever they chose to come my husband had to depart, and I do not think he liked these interruptions. We were much interested in the male members of the wali's family. His eldest son was paralysed and bedridden, and he had adopted as heir to his position in Dhofar a nephew, who lived in a separate wing of the castle, and had his separate harem establishment. Besides these the wali had two dear little boys, one of twelve and the other of eight, who constantly paid us visits, and with whom we established a close friendship. Salem, the elder, was a fair, delicate-looking boy, the son of a Georgian slave who was given to Wali Suleiman by Sultan Tourki of Oman. Some years ago she ran away with her boy to Bombay, but was restored to her husband, and now has been sent as a punishment to Zanzibar; she is a servant in the house of one of the princesses there. Salem would often tell us that his mother was coming back to him in a year or two, but we thought differently. The tragedy connected with little Muoffok, the younger boy, a bright, dear little fellow, very much darker than his brother, in fact nearly black, is far more heartrending. About two years before, his mother, also a slave, an African, was convicted of misconduct, and on her was visited the extremest penalty with which the Arab law can punish a faithless wife. In the presence of a large assemblage, the unfortunate woman was buried up to the waist in the sand and stoned to death. The poor little motherless fellows were constantly on the go, rushing hither and thither, playing with and petted by all; at one time they amused themselves with the prisoners in the courtyard, at another time they teased the Gara sheikhs who sat in the long entrance corridor, and then they came to torment us, until we gave then some trifle, which they forthwith carried off in triumph to show it to everybody. Both the little boys wore the large silver and gold daggers of Oman round their waists, and powder-flasks similarly decorated hung on their backs; and when dressed in their best silk robes on Friday, they were the most fantastic little fellows one could wish to see. Wali Suleiman was, as I have said, an austere and unlovable man, but he was the man for his position: taciturn and of few words, but these always to the point. Before he would permit us to go forth and penetrate into the recesses of the Gara mountains, he summoned the heads of all the different families into which the tribe is divided to Al Hafa, and gave us into their charge, we agreeing to pay for their escort, their protection, and the use of their camels a fixed sum _per diem_ in Maria Theresa dollars, the only coin recognised in the country. Such palavering there was over this stupendous piece of diplomacy! Wali Suleiman and the Gara sheikhs sat for hours in solemn conclave in a palm-thatched barn about fifty yards distant from the castle, which takes the place of a parliament house in the kingdom of Dhofar. The wali, his nephew, and Arab councillors smoked their _narghilehs_ complacently, whilst the Gara Bedouin took whiffs at their little pipes, which they cut out of soft limestone that hardens in the air, and all drank endless cups of coffee served by slaves in huge coffee-pots with long, bird-like beaks, and we looked on at this conference, which was to decide our fate, from our roof, with no small amount of impatience. Before starting for the mountains we wandered hither and thither over the plain of Dhofar for some days, visiting sites of ruins, and other places of interest, and greatly admired the rich cultivation we saw around us, and the capacity of this plain for producing cotton, indigo, tobacco, and cereals. Water is on the surface in stagnant pools, or easily obtainable everywhere by digging shallow wells which are worked by camels, sometimes three together, and so well trained, that at the end of the walk they turn by themselves as soon as they hear the splash of the water into the irrigation channel, and then they walk back to fill the skin bucket again. The cocoanut-palm grows admirably here, and we had many refreshing draughts of the water contained in the nuts during our hot rides; and in pools beneath the trees the fibre of the nuts is placed to rot for making ropes, giving out an odour very similar to that of the flax-pits in the north of Ireland. Between Capes Risout and Merbat we found the sites of ruined towns of considerable extent in no less than seven different points, though at the two capes where now is the only anchorage, there are no ruins to be seen, proving, as we afterwards verified for ourselves, that anchorage of a superior nature existed in the neighbourhood in antiquity, which has since become silted up, but which anciently must have afforded ample protection for the boats which came for the frankincense trade. At Takha, as we shall presently see, there was a very extensive and deep harbour, running a considerable distance inland, which with a little outlay of capital could easily be restored. After a close examination of these ruined sites, there can be no doubt that those at spots called now Al Balad and Robat, about two miles east of the wali's residence, formed the ancient capital of this district. We visited them on Christmas Day, and were much struck with their extent. The chief ruins, those of Al Balad, are by the sea, around an acropolis some 100 feet in height. This part of the town was encircled by a moat still full of water, and in the centre, still connected with the sea, but almost silted up, is a tiny harbour. The ground is covered with the remains of Mohammedan mosques, and still more ancient Sabæan temples, the architecture of which--namely, the square columns with flutings at the four corners, and the step-like capitals--at once connects them architecturally with the columns at Adulis on the Red Sea, those of Koloe and Aksum in Abyssinia, and those described by M. Arnaud at Mariaba in Yemen. In some cases these are decorated with intricate patterns, one of which is formed by the old Sabæan letters [Symbol: circle with dot in middle] and X, which may possibly have some religious import. After seeing the ruins of Adulis and Koloe and the numerous temples or tombs with four isolated columns, no doubt can be entertained that the same people built them. As at Adulis and Koloe there were no inscriptions which could materially assist us; this may be partly accounted for by the subsequent Mohammedan occupation, when the temples were converted into mosques, but besides this the nature of the stone employed at all these places would make it very difficult to use it for inscribing letters: it is very coarse, and full of enormous fossils. This town of Al Balad by the sea is connected by a series of ruins with another town two miles inland, now called Robat, where the ground for many acres is covered with ancient remains; big cisterns and water-courses are here cut in the rock, and standing columns of the same architectural features are seen in every direction. With the aid of Sprenger's 'Alte Geographie Arabiens,' the best guide-book the traveller can take into this country, there is no difficulty in identifying this ancient capital of the frankincense country as the Manteion Artemidos of Claudius Ptolemy. This name is obviously a Greek translation of the Sabæan for some well-known oracle which anciently existed here, not far, as Ptolemy himself tells us, from Cape Risout. This name eventually became Zufar, from which the modern name of Dhofar is derived. In a.d. 618 the town was destroyed and Mansura built, under which name the capital was known in early Mohammedan times. Various Arab geographers also assist us in this identification. Yakut, for example, tells us how the Prince of Zufar had the monopoly of the frankincense trade, and punished with death any infringement of it. Ibn Batuta says that 'half a day's journey east of Mensura is Alakhaf, the abode of the Addites,' probably referring to the site of the oracle and the last stronghold of the ancient cult. Sprenger sums up the evidence of old writers by saying that the town of Zufar and the later Mansura must undoubtedly be the ruins of Al Balad. Thus, having assured ourselves of the locality of the ancient capital of the frankincense country--for no other site along the plain has ruins which will at all compare in extent and appearance with those of Al Balad--we shall, as we proceed on our journey, find that other sites fall easily into their proper places, and an important verification of ancient geography and an old-world centre of commerce has been obtained. The ruins at Al Balad and Robat were last inhabited during the Persian occupation, about the time of the Crusades, 500 of the Hejira. They utilised the old Himyaritic columns to build their mosques. Some of the tombs have beautiful carving on them. In the ruins of one temple the columns were elaborately carved with a kind of _fleur-de-lis_ pattern, and the bases decorated with a floral design, artistically interwoven. I had dreadful difficulty with a photograph which I took of these columns. I developed it at night, tormented by mosquitoes, and in the morning it was all cracked and dried off its celluloid foundation. I put it in alum, and it floated off half an inch too large in both directions. If I had had a larger plate on which to mount it, it would have been an easy enough job, but I had not, so I was obliged to work it down on to the original plate with my thumbs. It took me seven solid hours, and I had to be fed with two meals, for I could never move my thumbs nor eyes off my work. I felt very proud that the cracks did not show when a magic-lantern slide was made from it. There was a great deal of vegetation among the ruins. Specially beautiful was a very luxuriant creeper called by the inhabitants _asaleb_. It has a luscious, large, pear-shaped red fruit with seeds which, when bitten, are like pepper. It has large flowers, which are white at first, and then turn pink. On our way home from Al Balad we stopped to rest under some cocoa-palms, and stones and other missiles were flung up by our guides, so the cocoanuts came showering down in rather a terrifying way. The men then stuck their _ghatrifs_ in the ground and banged the nuts on them, and thus skinned them. Then they hacked at them with their swords till they cut off the tops like eggs, and we enjoyed a good drink of the water. CHAPTER XIX THE GARA TRIBE We left Al Hafa on December 29, after waiting six days for camels. There was much difficulty in getting a sufficient quantity, and never before had camels been hired in this manner. It was hard to make the people understand what we meant or wished to do. When at length the camels were assembled, they arrived naked and bare. There were no ropes of any kind, or sticks to tie the baggage to, no vestige of any sort of pack saddle, and we had to wait till the following day before a few ropes could be procured. A good many of our spare blankets had to be used as saddle-cloths, that is to say under the baggage; ropes off our boxes, straps, raw-hide _riems_ that we had used in South Africa, and in fact every available string had to be used to tie it on, and the Bedouin even took the strings which they wear as fillets round their hair, to tie round the camels' necks and noses to lead them. There was great confusion over the loading, as all that ever yet had been done to camels in that country was to tie a couple of sacks of frankincense together and hang them on. The camels roared incessantly, got up before they were ready, shook off their loads, would not kneel down or ran away loaded, shedding everything or dragging things at their heels. Sometimes their masters quite left off their work to quarrel amongst themselves, bawling and shouting. Though we were ready at seven, it was after midday before we were off, though Wali Suleiman himself superintended the loading. Camels in Dhofar are not very choice feeders, and have a predilection for bones, and if they saw a bone near the path they would make for it with an eager rush extremely disconcerting to the rider. Fish, too, is dried for them and given them as food (called _kei_ by the Gara and _ohma_ by the Arabs), as also is a cactus which grows in the mountains, which is cut into sections for them. They are fine sturdy animals, and can go up and down hill better than any camels I have ever seen. The fertile Gara range is a great breeding place for camels, but as there is no commerce or communication with the interior, the Bedouin do not make much use of them themselves, but sell them to their neighbours, who come here to purchase. My husband, Imam Sherif and I had each a seat on a separate loaded camel, with our _rezais_ or _lahafs_--thick cotton quilts--on the baggage; six of the servants rode in pairs while one walked, all taking turns. We went about eight miles westward the first day and considered it a wonderfully good journey. We stopped at the edge of the plain, about half a mile from the sea at Ras Risout, where some very dirty water was to be obtained under a rock. We passed some ruins with columns four miles west of Al Hafa at Aukad. The approach to the mountains is up narrow gulleys full of frankincense-trees. We had a stormy and quarrelsome start next day, after a delay caused by my husband's camel sitting down constantly and unexpectedly, and a stoppage because two possible enemies being descried it was deemed needful to wait till all the camels came up that we might keep together. When they arrived we waited so long that we got up, told them that we did not want to be kept all day on the road, and began to mount our camels, saying we would return to the wali at Al Hafa. In the end they began quarrelling with each other and made peace with us, and next we set off to a place farther north than they had before intended, where there was good water in a small amphitheatre of mountains. We went up a lovely gorge with ferns, trees, and a running stream, as different as possible to the aridity of the Hadhramout. January 1, 1895, began with a wild-goose chase after some ruins consisting of a circular wall of loose stones about a foot in height, very likely only a sheep pen. The camels were much quieter and the Bedouin very friendly. We only travelled an hour and a half, having gone round some spurs and found ourselves in a round valley, back to back with that we had left, and about half a mile distant from our last camp. It was surrounded by some very high and some lower hills, and we were just under a beetling cliff with good water in a stream among bulrushes, reeds, and tropical vegetation. There was a Bedou family close by with goats; they sold us milk at an exorbitant price and asked so much for a kid that we stuck to our tinned meat. The Gara, in whose country we were now, are a wild pastoral tribe of the mountains, travelling over them hither and thither in search of food for their flocks. They are troglodytes of a genuine kind and know no home save their ancestral caves, with which this limestone range abounds; they only live in rude reed huts like ant hills, when they come down to the plain of Dhofar in the rainy season for pasturage. There is a curious story connected with the Gara tribe, which probably makes them unique in Arabia, and that is, that a few years ago they owned a white sheikh. About the beginning of this century an American ship was wrecked on this coast, and all the occupants were killed save the cabin boy, who was kept as a slave. As years went on his superior ability asserted itself, and gained for him in his later years the proud position of sheikh of all the Garas. He lived, married, and died amongst them, leaving, I believe, two daughters, who still live up in the mountains with their tribe. The life and adventures of this Yankee boy must have been as thrilling and interesting as any novelist could desire, and it is a great pity that the white sheikh could not have been personally interviewed before his death, which occurred over twenty years ago. [Illustration: A GARA FORGE] Sprenger (§ 449) supposes that the tribal name Gara or Kara corresponds to the ancient Ascites whom Ptolemy places on this coast; but as the Ascites were essentially a seafaring race, and the Gara are a pastoral tribe of hill Bedouin, the connection between them does not seem very obvious. It is more probable that they may correspond to the Carrei mentioned in the campaign of Aelius Gallus as a race of Southern Arabia, possessing, according to Pliny, the most fertile country. As for weapons, the Gara have three, and every male of the tribe carries them. One is a small shield (_gohb_) of wood or shark's skin, deep, and with a wooden knob at the centre, so that when they are tired and want a rest they can turn it round and utilise it as a stool; the second is a flat iron sword with a wooden handle, actually made in Germany, for we saw a dhow arrive from Zanzibar whilst we were at Dhofar which brought a cargo of such swords; the Bedouin purchased them with avidity, and were like children with a new toy for some time after, bending them across their naked shoulders, and measuring them with their neighbours, to see that they were all equally long; handing them safely about by their blades. These swords are simply flat pieces of iron, made narrower at the top to leave a place for the hand to grip them; there is no form of hilt of any kind. They are used to cut down trees, split logs, scrape sticks, and cut meat into joints. They have scabbards covered with white calico, which are not always used, and there are no straps to attach the sword to the person. The third weapon is a wooden throw-stick, made of a specially hard wood called _miet_, which grows in the mountains; it is about a yard long, and pointed at both ends; it is called _ghatrif_. The Gara are wonderfully skilful at hurling it through the air, and use it both in battle and for the chase with admirable precision. They have hardly any guns amongst them, and what they have are only of the long matchlock class; in fact, they do not seem to covet the possession of firearms, as our friends in the Hadhramout did the year before. Every man clutched the sword and ghatrif in one hand very tightly as there was nothing to prevent their slipping, being both pointed. The little pipes which they use are of limestone, soft when cut and hardening in the air. They are more like cigarette holders than pipes. The thorn-extractors used by the Gara tribe are like those used by most of the other Bedouin: a knife, a sort of stiletto, and tweezers. They sit down on the wayside and hack most heartily at their feet, and then prod deeply with the stiletto before pulling the thorn out with the tweezers. Certainly black skins are not so sensitive as white, and though, of course, I do not approve of slavery, I do think a great deal of unneeded pity has been wasted on slaves by people who took it for granted that being men and brothers they had the same feelings as ourselves, either in mind or body. No one with the same feelings as we could go so readily through the burning cure (_kayya_). In Mashonaland I have seen people walking on narrow paths only suited to people who have never learnt to turn out their toes, all overhung with thorny bushes which not only tore our clothes but our skins. The black people only had white scratches as if they were made of morocco leather. If by any chance a knock really brought a bit of flesh or skin off, and blood annoyed them by streaming down, they would clutch up a handful of grass with a dry leaf or stick, and wipe the wound out quite roughly. We had never put ourselves into the charge of such wild people as the Garas--far wilder in every way than the Bedouin of the Hadhramout, inasmuch as they have far less contact with civilisation. The Bedou of Southern Arabia is, to my mind, distinctly of an aboriginal race. He has nothing to do with the Arabs, and was probably there just as he is now, centuries before the Arabs found a footing in this country. He is every bit as wild as the African savage, and not nearly so submissive to discipline, and is endowed with a spirit of independence which makes him resent the slightest approach to legal supervision. When once away from the influence of Wali Suleiman, they paid no heed to the orders of the soldiers sent by him, and during the time we were with them we had the unpleasant feeling that we were entirely in their power. They would not march longer than they liked; they would only take us where they wished, and they were unpleasantly familiar; with difficulty we kept them out of our tents, and if we asked them not to sing at night and disturb our rest, they always set to work with greater vigour. Seventeen of these men, nearly naked, armed as I have described, and wild-looking in the extreme, formed our bodyguard, and if we attempted to give an order which did not please them, they would independently reply, 'We are all sheikhs, we are not slaves.' At the same time they paid the greatest deference to their chief, the old Sheikh Sehel, and expected us to do the same. Sheikh Sehel was the head of the Beit al Kathan, which is the chief of the many families into which the Gara tribe is divided, and consequently he was recognised as the chief of all the Garas. He was a wizened, very avaricious-looking old man, who must have been close upon seventy, and though he owned 500 head of cattle and 70 camels, he dressed his old bones in nothing save a loin-cloth, and his matted grey locks were adorned and kept together by a simple leather thong twisted several times round his forehead. Despite his appearance he was a great man in his limited sphere, and for the weeks that were to come we were completely in his power. He had the exclusive charge of me and my camel, which he led straight through everything, regardless of the fact that I was on several occasions nearly knocked off by the branches of trees; and if my seat was uncomfortable, which it often was, as well as precarious--for we all sat on luggage indifferently tied on--we had the greatest work to make Sheikh Sehel stop to rectify the discomfort, for he was the sheikh of all the Garas, as he constantly repeated, and his dignity was not to be trifled with. The seventeen sheikhs got half a dollar a day each for food, their slaves a quarter. Our expedition nearly came to an untimely end a very few days after our start, owing, as my husband himself confessed, to a little indiscretion on his part; but as the event serves to illustrate the condition of the men we were with, I must not fail to recount it. During our day's march we met with a large company of the Al Khathan family pasturing their flocks and herds in a pleasant valley. Great greetings took place, and our men carried off two goats for an evening feast. When night approached they lit a fire of wood, and piled stones on the embers so as to form a heated surface. On this they placed the meat, cut in strips with their swords, the entrails, the heads, and every part of the animal, until their kitchen looked like a ghastly sacrifice to appease the anger of some deity. I must confess that the smell thereof was exceeding savoury, and the picture presented by these hungry savages, gathered round the lurid light of their kitchen, was weird in the extreme. Daggers were used for knives, two fingers for forks, and we stood at a respectful distance and watched them gorge; and so excited did they become as they consumed the flesh, that one could almost have supposed them to be under the influence of strong drink. Several friends joined them from the neighbouring hills, and far into the night they carried on their wild orgy, singing, shouting, and periodically letting off the guns which the soldiers sent by Wali Suleiman brought with them. We retired in due course to our tent and our beds, but not to sleep, for in addition to their discordant songs, in rushing to and fro they would catch in our tent-guys, and give us sudden shocks, which rendered sleep impossible. Exasperated at this beyond all bearing, my husband at length rushed out and caught a Bedou in the very act of tumbling over a guy. Needless to say a well-placed kick sent him quickly about his business, and after this silence was established and we got some repose. Next morning, however, when we were prepared to start, we found our Bedouin all seated in a silent, solemn phalanx, refusing to move. 'What is the matter?' my husband asked, 'why are we not ready to start?' and from amongst them arose a stern, freezing reply. 'You must return to Al Hafa. We can travel no more with you, as Theodore has kicked Sheikh Sehel,' for by this time they had become acquainted with our Christian names, and never used any other appellative. We felt that the aspect of affairs was serious, and that in the night season he had been guilty of an indiscretion which might imperil both our safety and the farther progress of our journey. So we affected to take the matter as a joke, laughed heartily, patted Sheikh Sehel on the back, said that we did not know who it was, and my husband entered into a solemn compact that if they would not catch in our guys again, he would never kick his majesty any more. It was surprising to see how soon the glum faces relaxed, and how soon all ill-feeling was forgotten. In a very few minutes life and bustle, chattering and good humour reigned in our camp, and we were excellent friends again. It was on the third day after leaving Al Hafa that we passed through one of the districts where frankincense is still collected, in a narrow valley running down from the mountains into the plain of Dhofar. The valley was covered for miles with this shrub, the trunk of which, when punctured, emits the odoriferous gum. We did not see any very large trees, such as we did in Sokotra. The Bedouin choose the hot season, when the gum flows most freely, to do this puncturing. During the rains of July and August, and during the cool season, the trees are left alone. The first step is to make an incision in the trunk, then they strip off a narrow bit of bark below the hole, so as to make a receptacle in which the milky juice, the _spuma pinguis_ of Pliny, can lodge and harden. Then the incision is deepened, and after seven days they return to collect what are, by that time, quite big tears of frankincense, larger than an egg. The shrub itself is a picturesque one, with a leaf not unlike an ash, only stiffer; it has a tiny green flower, not red like the Sokotra flowers, and a scaly bark. In all there are three districts in the Gara mountains where the tree still grows; anciently, no doubt, it was found in much larger quantities, but the demand for frankincense is now so very limited that they take no care whatever of the trees. They only tap the most promising ones, and those that grow farther west in the Mahri country, as they produce an inferior quality, are not now tapped at all. The best is obtained at spots called Hoye and Haski, about four days' journey inland from Merbat, where the Gara mountains slope down into the Nejd desert. The second in quality comes from near Cape Risout, and also a little farther west, at a place called Chisen, near Rakhiout, frankincense of a marketable quality is obtained, but that farther west in the Mahri country is not collected now, being much inferior. The best quality they call _leban lakt_, and the second quality _leban resimi_, and about 9,000 cwt. are exported yearly and sent to Bombay. It is only collected in the hot weather, before the rains begin and when the gum flows freely, in the months of March, April, and May, for during the rains the tracks on the Gara mountains are impassable. The trees belong to the various families of the Gara tribe; each tree is marked and known to its owner, and the product is sold wholesale to Banyan merchants, who come to Dhofar just before the monsoons to take it away. One must imagine that when this industry was at its height, in the days when frankincense was valued not only for temple ritual but for domestic use, the trade in these mountains must have been very active, and the cunning old Sabæan merchants, who liked to keep the monopoly of this drug, told wonderful stories of the phoenix which guarded the trees, of the insalubrity of the climate and of the deadly vapours which came from them when punctured for the gum. Needless to say, these were all false commercial inventions, which apparently succeeded admirably, for the old classical authors were exceedingly vague as to the localities whence frankincense came. Merchants came in their ships to the port of Moscha, which we shall presently visit, to get cargoes of the drug, but they probably knew as little as we did of the interior of the hills behind, and one of the reasons why Aelius Gallus was sent to Arabia by Augustus on his unsuccessful campaign was 'to discover where Arabian gold and frankincense came from.' Early Arabian authors are far more explicit, and we gather from Makrisi, Ibn Khaldun, and others, something more definite about Dhofar and the frankincense trade, and of the prince of this district who had the monopoly of the trade, and punished its infringement with death. These writers, when compared with the classical ones, assist us greatly in identifying localities. The Portuguese knew about Dhofar and its productions, for Camoens, in his Tenth Lusiad, 716, writes: 'O'er Dhofar's plain the richest incense breathes.' But not until Dr. Carter coasted along here some fifty years ago was it definitely known that this was the chief locality in Arabia which produced the drug. Myrrh, too, grows in large quantities in the Gara range, and we obtained specimens of it in close proximity to the frankincense-tree. The gum of the myrrh-tree is much redder than ordinary gum Arabic, whereas the frankincense gum is considerably whiter. The commerce of Dhofar must have been exceedingly rich in those ancient days, as is evidenced by the size and extent of the Sabæan ruins on the plain. They are the most easterly ruins which have been found in Arabia of the Sabæan period, and probably owe their origin entirely to the drug trade. For the first few days of our journey, we suffered greatly from the unruliness of the camels. They danced about like wild things at first, and scattered our belongings far and wide, and all of us in our turns had serious falls, and during those days, boxes and packages kept flying about in all directions. Imam Sharif had his travelling trunk broken to pieces and the contents scattered right and left, and some treasured objects of jewellery therein contained were never recovered. So scarce did rope become during our journey, that the Bedouin had actually to take the leather thongs which bound their matted locks together, to lead the camels with, and rope was almost the only thing they tried to steal from us while we were in their company. At length our means of tying became so exhausted that we had to send a messenger back to buy rope from Wali Suleiman, and obtained a large sackful for two reals. Our new supply of rope was made of aloe-fibre, barely twisted in one thin strand, and at every camp we had to set up a rope-walk to make ropes that would not break. The Garas were always cutting off short bits to tie round their hair or their necks. The servants, headed by Lobo, had to be very sharp in picking up all the pieces lying about after unloading, or we should soon have been at a loss again. We originally understood that Sheikh Sehel was going to take us up to the mountains by a valley still farther west, but for some reason, which we shall never know, he refused; some said the Mahri tribe was giving trouble in this direction, others that the road was too difficult for camels. At any rate, we had partially to retrace our steps, and following along the foot of the mountains, found ourselves encamped not so many miles away from Al Hafa. CHAPTER XX THE GARA MOUNTAINS At length we turned our faces towards the Gara mountains, with considerable interest and curiosity, and prepared to ascend them by a tortuous valley, the Wadi Ghersìd, which dives into their very midst, and forms the usual approach for camels, as the mountain sides in other parts are too precipitous. After riding up the valley for a few miles, we came across one of the small lakes of which we were in quest, nestling in a rocky hole, and with its fine boulders hung with ferns and vegetation, forming altogether one of the most ideal spots we had ever seen. That arid Arabia could produce so lovely a spot, was to us one of the greatest surprises of our lives. Water-birds and water-plants were here to be found in abundance, and the hill slopes around were decked with fine sycamores and acacia-trees, amongst the branches of which sweet white jessamine, several species of convolvulus, and other creepers climbed. The water was deliciously cool, rushing forth from three different points in the rock among maidenhair and other ferns into the basin which formed the lake, but it is impregnated with lime, which leaves a deposit all down the valley along its course. Evidence of the mighty rush of water during the rains is seen on all sides, rubbish is then cast into the branches of the great fig-trees, and the Bedouin told us that at times this valley is entirely full of water and quite impassable. Next day we pursued our way up the gorge of Ghersìd, climbing higher and higher, making our way through dense woods, often dangerous for the camel riders, and obliging us frequently to dismount. Merchants who visited Dhofar in pursuit of their trade knew of these valleys, and not unnaturally brought home glowing accounts of their fertility, and thus gained for Arabia a reputation which has been thought to be exaggerated. In the Wadi Ghersìd, amongst the dense vegetation which makes the spot a veritable paradise, we came across many Bedouin of the Beit al Kathan family tending their flocks and dwelling in the caves. They were all exceedingly obsequious to Sheikh Sehel, and we soon found that he was a veritable king amongst them, and forthwith we gave up any attempt to guide our own footsteps, but left ourselves entirely in his hands, to take us whither he would and spend as long about it as he liked. One thing which interested us very much was to see the greetings of the Bedouin: for an acquaintance they merely rub the palms of their hands when they meet, and then kiss the tips of their respective fingers; for an intimate friend they join hands and kiss each other; but for a relative they not only join hands, but they rub noses and finally kiss on either cheek. Whenever we met a party of their friends on our way, it was a signal for a halt that these greetings might be observed, and then followed a pipe. At first we rather resented these halts; but they take such a short time over their whiff of tobacco, and are so disconsolate without it, that we soon gave up complaints at these delays. They literally only take one whiff and pass the stone pipe on, so that a halt for a smoke seldom lasts more than five minutes, and all are satisfied. Sheikh Sehel met many of his relatives in the Wadi Ghersìd, and his nose was subject to many energetic rubs, and the novelty of this greeting, about which one had vaguely read in years gone by, excited our interest deeply, but at the same time we were thankful we were not likely to meet any relatives in the valley, and to have to undergo the novel sensations in person. Every afternoon, when our tents were pitched and our baggage open, whole rows of Bedouin would sit outside asking for medicine; pills, of special violence of course, and quinine were the chief drugs required, and then we had many sore eyes and revolting sores of every description, requiring closer attention. As to the pills, we had some difficulty in getting the Bedouin not to chew them, but when one man, Mas'ah by name, solemnly chewed five Holloway's pills and was very sick after so doing, it began to dawn upon them that our method was the right one. Most embarrassing of all our patients was old Sheikh Sehel himself. Fortune had been kind to him in most respects: she had given him wealth and power amongst men, and the fickle goddess had bestowed upon him two wives, but alas! no offspring, and to seek for a remedy for this, to a savage, overwhelming disaster, he came with his head-men to the tent of the European medicine men. It was in vain for my husband to tell him that he had brought no remedy for this complaint. They had seen him on one or two occasions consult a small medicine book, and their only reply to his negative was, 'The book; get out the book, Theodore,' and he had solemnly to pretend to go through the volume before they could be convinced that he had no medicine to meet the case. It was curious to hear their morning greeting, 'Sabakh, Theodore! Sabakh, Mabel!' The women of the Gara tribe are timid creatures, small, and not altogether ill-looking; in fact the Garas are, as a tribe, undersized and of small limbs, but exceedingly active and lithe. The women do not possess the wealth in savage jewellery which we found to be the case in the Hadhramout the previous year, nor do they paint themselves so grotesquely with turmeric and other dyes, but indulge only in a few patches of black, sticky stuff like cobbler's wax on their faces, and a touch of antimony round their eyes and joining their eyebrows; they wear no veils, and at first we could not get near them, as they ran away in terror at our approach. They have but poor jewellery--silver necklaces, armlets, nose, toe, and finger rings. One evening, when up in the mountains, we were told that a harem wished to see us, and we were conducted to a spot just out of sight of our tents, where sat three females on the ground looking miserably shy, and in their nervousness they plucked and ate grass, and constantly as we approached retreated three or four steps back and seated themselves again. Presently, after much persuasion, we got one of them to come to the tent and accept a present of needles and other oddments, the delight of womankind all the world over. Altogether these Gara women formed a marked and pleasant contrast to the Bedouin women in the Hadhramout, who literally besieged us in our tent, and never gave us any peace. It is interesting to read in the 'Periplus' (p. 32) a description of this coast and of the high mountains behind, 'where men dwell in holes.' We often went to visit the troglodytes in their cave homes, where we found men, women, and children living with their flocks and herds in happy harmony. The floor of their caves is soft and springy, the result of the deposits of generations of cattle; in the dark recesses of the cave the kids are kept during their mother's absence at the pasture, and though these caves are slightly odoriferous, we found them cool and refreshing after the external heat. In some of them huts are erected for the families, and in one cave we found almost a village of huts; but in the smaller ones they have no covering, and when in the open the Gara cares for nothing but a tree to shelter him. All their farm implements are of the most primitive nature; the churn is just a skin hung on three sticks, which a woman shakes about until she obtains her butter. Ghi or rancid butter is one of the chief exports of Dhofar. They practise too, a pious fraud on their cows by stretching a calf-skin on a stick, and when the cow licks this she is satisfied and the milk comes freely. They have but few pots and pans, and these of the dirtiest description, so when we got milk from them we always sent our own utensils. In these valleys, by rocks near the streams and under trees, live, the Bedouin told us, those curious semi-divine spirits which they call _jinni_, the propitiating of which seems to be the chief form of religion amongst them. One morning, as we were riding up a narrow gorge beneath the shade of a beetling cliff, our guides suddenly set up a sing-song chant, which they continued for fully ten minutes. '_Aleik soubera, Aleik soubera_,' were the words which they constantly repeated, and which were addressed, they told us, to the jinni of the rocks, a supplication to allow us to pass in safety. Jinni also inhabit the lakes in the Gara mountains, and it is considered dangerous to wet your feet in them, for you will catch a fever. We could not induce the Bedouin to gather a water-plant we coveted in one of them for this reason. They inhabit, too, the caves where the people dwell, and have to be propitiated with suitable offerings. In fact, the fear of jinni, and the skill of certain magicians in keeping them friendly, are the only tangible form of religion that we could discover amongst them. When at the coast villages they outwardly conform to the Mohammedan customs, but when away in their mountains they abandon them altogether. During the time we were with them they never performed either the prayers or the ablutions required by the Moslem creed, and the only thing approaching a religious festival amongst them that we heard of, is an annual festival held by the Garas in November by the side of one of their lakes, to which all the members of the different families repair, and at which a magician sits on a rock in the centre of a group of dancing Bedouin, to propitiate, with certain formulas, the jinni of the lake. Amongst the Bedouin of the Hadhramout we noticed the same absence of religious observances and the same superstitious dread of jinni, but at the same time I fully believe they have their own sacred places and festivals, which they conceal as much as possible from the fanatical Moslems who dwell amongst them. A Bedouin never fasts during Ramazan, and does not object to do his work during the month of abstinence, but he goes to mosque and says his prayers when occasion brings him to the coast. It seems to me a curious coincidence that in many other Mohammedan countries we have visited we have come across the same story of concealed religion as practised by the nomad races. We have the Ali-Ullah-hi in the Persian mountains, about whose secret rites horrible stories are told; we have the Ansairi and the Druses in the Lebanon, and the nomad Yourouks of Asia Minor, and the Dünmeh of Salonika, about all of whom the strict Mohammedans of the towns tell you exactly the same story that we heard about the Bedouin of Southern Arabia. They are all looked upon as heathen by the Moslems, and accredited with secret rites and ceremonies about which no definite knowledge can be gained; and thus it would seem that throughout the length and breadth of Islam there are survivals of more ancient cults which the followers of Mohammed have never been able to eradicate, cults which no doubt would offer points of vast interest to the anthropologist if it were possible to unravel the mysteries which surround them. We were for ever hearing stories of jinni amongst the Gara Bedouin, and all we could gather was that when propitiated they are friendly to the human race. Old Sheikh Sehel and his men stuck to it that they had constantly seen jinni, and their belief in them seems deeply rooted. This word is pronounced ghinni in Southern Arabia. On January 4 we were at Beit el Khatan. We had to climb on foot. The valley became narrower as we went on, and the cliffs at the side were full of long caverns, with great stumpy stalactites and stalagmites, looking like teeth in gigantic mouths. The rocks we had to climb up were very rough and rugged, but where millions of camels' feet in thousands of years had polished them they were quite smooth and slippery. When we got above the woods, all very hot, we were able to ride again, at an elevation of 2,600 feet, on undulating, grassy ground. We encamped under two large fig-trees, and the weather being cloudy and windy were glad to find a quantity of wood ready gathered, the remains of a night shelter. There was muddy water at a little distance. The climate seems most healthy, in winter at least. Three kinds of figs grow here. Some are little purple ones with narrow leaves, and some large red ones with broad leaves. Leaving the Wadi Ghersìd we had a beautiful journey. We two enjoyed every minute of the three hours and a half. We went up the valley through a thick forest of lovely trees. There were myrtles, ilex, figs, acacia, and a quantity of other trees, with climbing cacti and other creepers, and great high trees of jasmin. Sometimes it was hard enough to get through the bushes and under the trees, perched up aloft on our camels. We were down in the river-bed part of the time, and then climbing through the forest to get to the top of the falls. Above the forest rise tiers of cliffs, and there were trees at the top on a tableland, as well as large isolated trees on most of the mountain tops, sheltering many birds. We had to wait fully an hour for our tent, as the servants' camels were somehow belated, and it was considered to be all owing to the jinni, whose abode we passed. Large white bustards assembled round our camp. Once we were settled, there was the usual run on the medicine chest. A very nice Bedou soldier, Aman, the head one, was given five pills into one hand by my husband, and as he insisted on grasping his weapons with his other, he had such difficulty in consuming them that I had to hold the cup of water for him to sip from. Madder trees grow about, and the Bedouin make clothes from the silky fibres. We ascended a good deal the following day, to a point whence our view extended over the great central desert. It looked like a blue sea with a yellow shore. We then turned a little to the south, then north again, and found ourselves among a quantity of wooded spurs, and on the edge of a deep wooded wadi. Right up to the tops of the mountains, which reach an elevation of about 3,000 feet, the ground is fertile and covered with grass, on which large herds of cattle feed; clusters of sycamores and limes growing here and there give to the undulating hills quite a park-like appearance. As we happened to be there in the dry season, the grass was all brown and slippery, and there stood around us acres upon acres of hay with no one to harvest it; but after the rains the aspect of the Gara hills must be as green and pleasant as those of Derbyshire. The dry grass often catches fire, and from the mountains in various directions we saw columns of smoke arising as if from the chimneys of a manufacturing district. The country through which we travelled for the next two days is covered with thorny bushes and anthills, and is more like Africa than Arabia. The anthills, though very extensive, were not so fantastic as those we saw in Africa. We were going eastward over high ground; we decided to halt for two nights near a pretty little hole full of maidenhair fern, where there was water. It was nice and clean at first, but even at the end of the first day it was much diminished and very muddy. Travellers like ourselves must be a great nuisance drinking up the scanty supply of water which might last the inhabitants for a long while. We had hoped to get a good rest after our many days of marching, but while we were here there came on the most frightful hurricane from the north; it blew steadily for two days and nights and put all rest out of the question. With difficulty could we keep our tents erect; when we were in ours we had to be tightly tied in and sit next to the sunniest wall; in the evening when the wind abated a little we used to sit by a large fire, dressed in blankets. The piercing blasts quite shrivelled up our poor unclad conductors, who crouched in an inert mass round log fires which they made. We were obliged to remain inactive, for they said the camels would not move during this wind, though I believe the cause of inaction rose more from their own dislike to travel in the cold; and so inert were they that we could hardly get them to fetch us water from the neighbouring spring, their whole energy being expended in fetching huge logs of wood to keep the fires burning, and I think they were all pleased when the time came to descend to the lower regions again and a warmer atmosphere. We were afraid to start before the sun was up for fear the camels would be too cold to move, and he did not visit us very early. Sheikh Sehel promised to take us across the Gara border into Nejd if we wished; but as it would have entailed a considerable delay and parley with the sheikhs of the Nejd Bedouin, and as we could see from our present vantage ground that the country would afford us absolutely no objects of interest, we decided not to attempt this expedition. On leaving our very exposed and nameless camping-ground, we pursued our course in a north-east direction, still passing through the same park-like scenery, through acres and acres of lovely hay, to be had for nothing a ton. It is exceedingly slippery, and dangerous foothold for the camels; consequently numerous falls were the result, and much of our journey had to be done on foot. We and they used involuntarily to sit down and slide and be brought up suddenly by a concealed rock. To the south the descent is abrupt and rocky to the plain of Dhofar and the Indian Ocean, and the horizon line on either side is remarkably similar, for in the far, far distance the sandy desert becomes a straight blue line like a horizon of water. To the east and west the arid barrenness of Arabia soon asserts itself, whereas the undulating Gara range, like the Cotswold, is fertile, and rounded with deep valleys and ravines running into it full of rich tropical vegetation. On the second day we began again to descend a hideously steep path, and a drop of about 1,500 feet brought us to a remarkable cave just above the plain, and only about ten or twelve miles from Al Hafa. This cave burrows far into the mountain side, and is curiously hung with stalactites, and contains the deserted huts of a Bedou village, only inhabited during the rains. Immediately below this cave in the Wadi Nahast are the ruins of an extensive Sabæan town, in the centre of which is a natural hole 150 feet deep and about 50 feet in diameter; around this hole are the remains of walls, and the columns of a large entrance gate. We asked for information about this place, but all we could get in reply was that it was the well of the Addites, the name always associated with the ruins of the bygone race. They also said the Minqui had lived in the town. In my opinion this spot is the site of the oracle mentioned by Ptolemy and others, from which the capital of Dhofar took its name. It much resembles the deep natural holes, which we found in Cilicia in Asia Minor, where the oracles of the Corycian and Olbian Zeus were situated. It is just below the great cave I have mentioned, and, as a remarkable natural phenomenon, it must have been looked upon with awe in ancient days, and it was a seat of worship, as the ruined walls and gateway prove; furthermore, it is just half a day's journey east of the city of Mansura or Zufar, where, Ibn Batuta somewhat contemptuously says, 'is Al Akhaf, the abode of the Addites,' and there is no other point on the plain of Dhofar where the oracle could satisfactorily be located from existing evidence. Some time, perhaps, an enterprising archæologist may be able to open the ruins about here, and verify the identification from epigraphical evidence. When we reached the valley Imam Sharif said: 'We do not know how we got down that place, for all of our feet was each 36 inches from the other foot.' We had such trouble squeezing through the trees, too. We encamped not at all far from the deep hole, and at first were too hot and tired after our tremendous clamber to look round, but my husband found it in his sunset stroll, and came and called to me to hurry out while light yet lingered in such joyful tones that I asked, 'Is it Dianæ Oraculum?' Before starting in the morning we went to visit some troglodytes, dirty, but pleasant, and willing for us to see all there was to be seen, and as anxious to see us; indeed, they wished to see more of me than I thought convenient, but fortunately my husband's collar-stud came undone and they all crowded to see his white chest amid shouts of 'Shouf Theodore!' (Look at Theodore). One of these people had fever and another neuralgia. We found neuralgia pretty common in Arabia. Quassia-chips were given to each to steep in water, but carefully tied up in different coloured cotton bags. Our way was very uninteresting, due south to the sea at Rizat. My husband's camel required repacking, and he and Hassan managed to lose sight of the rest of the _kafila_. Imam Sharif and I went on without perceiving that the rest had stopped. We had to wait an hour to be found. I dismounted, and sat in a circle of thirteen men. When one of them wished to attract my attention he tapped me on the knee with sword or stick, saying, 'Ya (oh), Mabel!' One of the first days I heard them consulting what my name might be; several were suggested, but at last they thought it must be 'Fàtema' and to try called 'Ya Fàtema!' I said 'My name is not "Fàtema";' then they asked, and thus they learnt our names. They said they did not wish us to give them orders of any kind as they were sheikhs; certainly not through the soldiers. 'We are gentlemen, and they are slaves, and if we choose we can kill them. What is it to us? We shall have to pay 400 reals, but we can give a camel each and can well afford it. We are rich.' I must say these men were often very kind to me. CHAPTER XXI THE IDENTIFICATION OF ABYSSAPOLIS We now pursued our way along the coast-line of Dhofar in an easterly direction. Wali Suleiman entertained us for a night at a farm he had built at a place called Rizat, the land around which is watered by an abundant stream. His garden was rich in many kinds of fruits, and on our arrival, hot and weary from the road, he spread a carpet for us under the shade of a mulberry tree while our camp was pitched, and ordered a slave to pick us a dishful of the fruit, which was exceedingly refreshing. Besides these he provided us with papayas, gourds, vegetables, and all sorts of delicacies to which we had been strangers during our wanderings in the Gara mountains. In this genial retreat Wali Suleiman passed much of his time, leaving behind him at Al Hafa the cares of state and the everlasting bickerings in his harem. The next morning, refreshed and supplied with the requisites for another journey, we started off again in our easterly course towards Takha, the most important village at the east end of the plain of Dhofar. As we rode across the plain we were perpetually harassed by the thought as to where the excellent harbour could be, which is mentioned by all ancient writers as frequented by the frankincense merchants, and which modern writers, such as Dr. Glaser and Sir E. H. Bunbury, agree in considering to be some little way west of Merbat. Yakut tells us how the ancient ships on their way to and from India tarried there during the monsoons, and he further tells us that it was twenty parasangs east of the capital. The 'Periplus' speaks of it as Moscha, Ptolemy as Abyssapolis, and the Arabs as Merbat; but as there is no harbourage actually at Merbat, it clearly could not be there. So as we went along we pondered on this question, and wondered if this celebrated harbour was, after all, a myth. It was a most uninteresting ride along this coast: flat, and for the most part barren, broken here and there by lagoons of brackish and evil-smelling water and mangrove swamps. On the way we saw antelopes and foxes with white bushy tails. One night we encamped by one of these river beds on slightly rising ground, and were devoured by mosquitoes, and so pestilent are these insects here that they not only attacked us, but tormented our camels to such a degree that they were constantly jumping up in the night and making such hideous demonstrations of their discomfort that our rest was considerably interfered with. When we reached Takha, after a ride of fifteen miles, we found ourselves once more amongst a heap, or rather two heaps, of Sabæan ruins, which had not been so much disturbed by subsequent occupants as those at the capital, but at the same time they were not nearly so fine, and the columns were mostly undecorated. There were also some very rough sarcophagi. The wali of Takha received us well, and placed his house at our disposal, but it was so dirty we elected to pitch our tents, and encamped some little distance from the village. On the following morning the wali sent us with a guide to inspect some ruins round the neighbouring headland which forms one end of the bay, of which Ras Risout is the other. The rock of which it is composed is white in all the sheltered parts and where the path is polished, and nearly black in the exposed parts. When we reached the other side of this promontory, to our amazement we saw before us a long sheet of water, stretching nearly two miles inland, broken by many little creeks, and in some parts fully half a mile wide. This sheet of water, which is called Kho Rouri, had been silted up at its mouth by a sandbank, over which the sea could only make its way at high tide, and the same belt of sand separated from it a fortified rock, Khatiya by name, which must formerly have been an island protecting the double entrance to what once must have been an excellent harbour, and which could be again restored to its former condition by an outlay of very little capital and labour. We were the more amazed at coming across this sheet of water, as it is not marked in the Admiralty chart. Surely there can be no doubt that this is the harbour which was anciently used by the merchants who came to this coast for frankincense. It would be absolutely secure at all seasons of the year, and it is just twenty parasangs from the ruins of the ancient capital--exactly where it ought to be, in fact--and probably the Arabs called it Merbat, a name which has been retained in the modern village on the sheltering headland, where we landed when we first reached Dhofar. As for the name Moscha--given in the 'Periplus'--it is like Mocha, a name given to several bays on the Arabian coast, and I think we discovered why Ptolemy called it Abyssapolis, as I will presently explain. We ascended the rock at the entrance, took a photograph of the sheet of water, and felt that we had at last succeeded in reconstructing the geography of this interesting bit of country. I hear that the Egyptologists are in search of a harbour to which the expedition to the land of Punt was made under the enterprising Queen Hatasou. Some imagine that this coast of Arabia was the destination of this expedition, and I herewith call their attention to this spot, for I know of none other more likely on the barren, harbourless coast between Aden and Maskat. If we take the illustration of this expedition given in the temple of Deir al Bahari, we have, to begin with, the frankincense trees, the long straight line of water running inland, the cattle and the birds; then the huts which the Bedouin build on tall poles, approached by ladders, from which they can inspect the produce of their land and drive off marauders, look exactly like those thereon depicted. All that we want are the apes, which certainly do not now exist in the Gara mountains, but it is just the spot where one would expect to find them; and in a district where the human race has been reduced to the smallest point, there is no reason why the kindred race of apes should not have disappeared altogether. Apes still exist near Aden. [Illustration: THE ABYSS OF ABYSSAPOLIS, DHOFAR] We had great difficulty in getting the camels to face the water and carry us to the peninsula, the water being half-way up their sides. On climbing up we saw columns lying about, and there had been a wall all round the summit. It had originally been built in courses with roughly squared stones, as we could see near the doorway, but the present wall is of ordinary broken stones. Leaving the harbour behind us we again approached the mountains, and, after journeying inland for about eight miles, we found the valley leading up to the mountains choked up by a most remarkable formation caused by the calcareous deposit of ages from a series of streams which precipitate themselves over a stupendous wall in feathery waterfalls. This abyss is perfectly sheer, and hung in fantastic confusion with stalactites. At its middle it is 550 feet in depth, and its greatest length is about a mile. It is quite one of the most magnificent natural phenomena I have ever seen, and suggestive of comparison with the calcareous deposits in New Zealand and Yellowstone Park; and to those who visited this harbour in ancient days it must have been a familiar object, so no wonder that when they went home and talked about it, the town near it was called the City of the Abyss, and Ptolemy, as was his wont, gave the spot a fresh appellative, just as he called the capital the Oracle of Artemis. About a quarter of a mile from the western side of the whole abyss is a small conical mountain, about 1,000 feet high, which looks as if it had once stood free but were now nearly smothered by the petrifaction of the overflowing water. It rises above the level top of the cliffs, and has about a quarter of a mile of abyss on one side, which is only 300 feet in depth, and half a mile on the other. It is all wooded. The larger side and the upper plain is called Derbat, and the smaller Merbat or Mergà. The three days we spent in exploring the neighbourhood of this abyss were the brightest and pleasantest of all during this expedition. Our camp was pitched under shady trees about half a mile from the foot of the abyss, whither we could wander and repose under the shade of enormous plantains which grew around the watercourse, and listen to the splashing of the stream as it was precipitated over the rock to irrigate the ground below, where the Bedouin had nice little gardens in which the vegetation was profuse. One day we spent in photography and sketching, wandering about the foot of the rocky wall; and another day, starting early in the morning, with one camel to carry our things, we set off to climb the hill by a tortuous path under shady trees which conducted us along the side of the hill, and got lovely glimpses of the abyss on both sides through the branches. On reaching the summit we found ourselves on an extensive and well-timbered flat meadow, along which we walked for a mile or so. It was covered with cattle belonging to the Bedouin grazing on its rich pasturage. It seemed like the place Jack reached when he had climbed up the beanstalk. At length we came to two lovely narrow lakes, joined together by a rapid meandering stream, delicious spots to look upon, with well-wooded hills on either side, and a wealth of timber in every direction. We lunched and took our midday siesta under a wide-spreading sycamore by the stream, after walking up alongside the lakes for nearly two miles; fat milch cows, not unlike our own, were feeding by the rushing stream; birds of all descriptions filled the branches of the trees, water-hens and herons and ducks were in abundance on one of the lakes, bulrushes and water-weeds grew in them; it would be an ideal little spot in any country, but in Arabia it was a marvel. The trees were loaded with climbing cactus and a large purple convolvulus with great round leaves. We wanted to get some water-plants, easily to be obtained if anyone would have entered the lake in which they grew, but the jinni or ghinni who lives there (our old friend the Genius of the 'Arabian Nights') was so dangerous that the plants had to be hooked out with sticks and branches tied to strings. Sheikh Sehel maintains that he has seen ghinni in that neighbourhood. This wide-spreading meadow can be watered at will by damming up the streams which lead the water from the lakes to the abyss, and in a large cave near the edge of the precipice dwells a family of pastoral Bedouin who own this happy valley; before leaving the higher level we went to the edge and peered over into the hollow below, where, far beneath us, was our camping ground among the trees, and in the sun's rays the waterfall over the white cliff gave out beautiful rainbows. We had to cross much swampy ground, and got our feet wet, without catching the inevitable fever. Imam Sharif camped away from us one night and found that the streams which feed them have their source up in the limestone, about two days' journey from them. The Bedouin are exceedingly proud of them, and in the absence of much water in their country they naturally look upon them with almost superstitious awe and veneration. Perhaps in Scotland one might be more inclined to call them mountain tarns, for neither of them is more than a mile in length, and in parts they are very narrow; yet they are deep, and, as the people at Al Hafa proudly told us, you could float thereon any steamer you liked, which may or may not be true, but their existence in a country like Arabia is, after all, their chief cause for renown. This really is Arabia Felix. If ever this tract of country comes into the hands of a civilised nation, it will be capable of great and useful development. Supposing the harbour restored to receive ships of moderate size, the Gara hills, rich in grass and vegetation, with an ample supply of water and regular rains, and, furthermore, with a most delicious and health-giving air, might be of inestimable value as a granary and a health resort for the inhabitants of the burnt-up centres of Arabian commerce, Aden and Maskat. It is, as I have said, about half way between them, and it is the only fertile stretch of coast-line along that arid frontage of the Arabian Peninsula on to the Indian Ocean. Every November a fair or gala is held up here by the side of the lakes, to which all the Bedouin of the Gara tribe come and make merry, and the fair of Derbat is considered by them the great festival of the year. A round rock was shown us on which the chief magician sits to exorcise the jinni of the lakes, and around him the people dance. There is doubtless some religious purport connected with all this, but, as I have said before, it is extremely difficult to get anything out of the Bedouin about their religious opinions; like the Bedouin of the Hadhramout, they do not observe the prayers and ablutions inculcated by the Mohammedan creed, and the Arabs speak of them as heathen, but beyond this we could not find out much. Their language, too, is different from anything we had heard before. They can understand and converse in Arabic after a fashion, but when speaking amongst themselves none of our party, Arab or European, could make out anything they said, and from such simple words as we were able to learn--such, for example, as _ouft_ for _wadi_, a valley, _shur_ instead of _yom_ for day, and _kho_ instead of _nahr_ for a river--we were led to believe that they speak an entirely different language, and not a dialect as in the Hadhramout. As we passed through the hay, the Gara had gathered up a lot of it in sacks, which they put under the camels' loads by day and used as beds by night, and between times applied to quite a different purpose. One of these sacks was used as a combined dish and strainer when they boiled their rice. The rice was turned out of the pot, and as soon as the cook had scraped it all out with his hands they sat round, and fed themselves with handfuls of it. After another day, spent over sketching, photography, and measurements, we felt we had thoroughly explored the neighbourhood of the abyss, so we started back to Al Hafa to prepare for our departure from Dhofar. It took us three days to get there. We stayed a night on the way on some high ground above one of the swamps, and on the second day stopped to visit Hamran, or Hameroun, where the wali had built a small fort and a farm, which supplied him when at Rizat with butter, vegetables and fruit. He also grew tobacco there. We found ourselves once more in our old quarters in the castle, where many fleas had been born in our absence, while the flies and mosquitoes were not diminished. The wali had more prisoners. We again visited Robat and the other ruins. The interests which centred in this small district--the ancient sites, the abyss, and, above all, the surprising fertility of the valleys and mountains, the delicious health-giving air, and the immunity from actual danger which we had enjoyed--combined in making us feel that our sojourn in Dhofar had been one of the most enjoyable and productive of any expedition we had hitherto undertaken, and that we had discovered a real Paradise in the wilderness, which will be a rich prize for the civilised nation which is enterprising enough to appropriate it. CHAPTER XXII SAILING FROM KOSSEIR TO ADEN Our object had been to go across from Dhofar by land to the Hadhramout, across the Mahri country. Wali Suleiman had done all in his power to help us, but without much success, as the Gara were more or less at war with the Mahri, who are a dangerous warlike tribe. When we first left Al Hafa, a message had been sent to the Mahri chiefs to come and arrange about our journey, but on our return we found that only two had come. They said if we would give them 200 reals, _i.e._ about 12_l._, they would let us go through their country, but they made no allusion to the request that they would arrange with the Minhali, Amri, Kattiri, and Tamimi. As far as we and the wali could make out, they would only have let us go a certain way along their coast, and then we should have been in difficulty about a ship. The reply from the sultan of Jedid was also unfavourable, so we had nothing left but to hire a _batil_ and set sail along the coast for Kishin, to the sultan of which place my husband had a letter from the British political agent at Maskat. We took leave of Wali Suleiman with much regret, and had we foreseen all the disappointments that were in store for us we should, I think, have stayed far longer under his favourable influence. We were sorry afterwards to hear of his death. A rebellion broke out, in which his castle was knocked into ruins, and in the battle he, his eldest son, and little black Muoffok were all killed. A long sea journey in an Arab batil is exceedingly uncomfortable. We had a cabin in the stern, open all round; a sail was stretched in front to secure our privacy; it was so low that we could by no means stand or even sit up except on the deck, as 3 feet 6 inches was the height of this place. It was roofed over with palm-stalks supported on posts overlaid with matting, so slippery that Imam Sharif and Hassan, the interpreter, had to tie themselves with ropes, as there was nothing to prevent their sliding into the sea. I stayed in my camp bed for six days, as there was nothing else to do. Our servants crowded every space on the outer part of the deck in and on boxes. We had some palm-leaf matting hung on the port and southern side to shield us from the sun, and much rejoiced that we were not deprived by the sun of the glorious views which unrolled themselves along our starboard side. When morning came, Lobo used to creep in across my husband's feet and bring our basins to our bed-sides, and when our toilette was finished he used to creep in and fetch them, and then creep back, and, spreading the breakfast on the floor, squat in the middle and hand us our food. The gunwale of the batil was only three inches from the level of my bed. Airy as our 'cabin' was, bilge-water was our torment. We had started on January 23, the weather being cool and overcast, about 11 o'clock, and reached the village of Rakhiout in thirty hours--only forty miles. We called there to do a civility to the wali, and leave two soldiers there. This is the end of Omani influence, and there is a small fort as a protection against the Mahri. There was a contrary wind and such a violent swell that we rocked and tossed for thirty more hours in front of the small village, whence parties of inhabitants came to stare at us. It is on a small flat space, with high hills and cliffs all round it. We started at last, and got at least two miles, when we were awakened by a great gale. I was nearly blown out of bed. The sail was taken down, and we were in some danger, as it was feared the mast would give way. We anchored, and the wind seemed to blow from all sides at once; the small boat was nearly smashed against the rudder. The stars were shining brightly all the time. We started again at dawn, and did not go more than three-quarters of a mile in the whole day, the wind being so contrary. One of the peculiarities of our navigation was that whenever we tacked we went completely round. At sunset we had to cast anchor again, and lie tossing till three, and then went on well. While at anchor we heard shouts and cries to come to land, but our sailors would do nothing of the sort. They said a single man might often be seen calling that he was wrecked, and asking to be fetched away, but a party of armed men would be behind a rock, and come out and murder the benevolent crew and steal the boat. It was really delightful in the morning to open my still sleepy eyes and, without moving, to see the lovely picture which seemed to be passing before me--not I before it--of beautiful mountains with their foreground of water, every fold and distance filled up and separated by soft vapours. Then sunrise began to paint the rocks red, and black shadows came and changed their shapes, and presently all became hard and stony looking. Passing Ras Hamar, which is the next cape to Risout, we had seen easily how it had acquired the name, for it looks like a donkey drinking, with its nose in the water and its ears cocked. This shows particularly from the west. In the pilot book of that sea, it is stated that it is called Hamar, or Ahmar, from its red colour; but it is not red. The two peculiar peaks on its summit are noticed. The wind died away about nine, and we shook about and went round and round; but in the afternoon we had a good wind, and at noon of the next day (January 28) we were before Kishin. The sultan was at his village, three miles inland, or, more correctly, in sand--a hot walk. He is a wizened little old man, who can neither read nor write, and was poorly dressed, visitors being quite unexpected. The village of Kishin, the Mahri capital, consists of a few scattered houses and some Bedou huts of matting and poles placed in a dreary sandy waste, very different from the fertile plain of Dhofar, and more like the surroundings of Sheher. When my husband asked for the sultan's assistance to go into the Hadhramout, he said: 'No one ever goes that way, it is full of robbers.' Of course he was civil enough, as my husband showed him the letter from Maskat, but he seemed to have little authority. I think his followers were sorry to see such a likely prize depart unmolested. Those on board were rather alarmed at the length of time consumed in these negotiations. The old Sultan Salem is father to the sultan of Sokotra, which belongs to the Mahri tribe, and brother to the sultan of Saihut, another robber chief, who is equally averse to admitting Europeans to his dominions. The fact is that these tribes object to European inquiry, as they know they would no longer be able to exist in their present condition. My husband extracted from him a letter to his brother of Saihut. After our futile attempts to penetrate into the Mahri country, there was nothing left for us but to start again in our boat for Sheher, and rely on the promises which Sultan Hussein al Kaiti had given us the year before of sending us under safe escort to the eastern portion of the Hadhramout valley, which must contain much of interest, not yet having been explored by Europeans; so we set sail again, and were soon passing country that we had ridden over on camels. Ras Fartak is the great landmark, but the fine scenery ends at Jedid. Looking back, the rich colouring of the capes, seeming to overlap one another, and the great height, give a most impressive effect. The slopes are adorned with feathery-looking trees, and there are many little sandy beaches, and there were also many deep caverns. For two days we saw hardly an inhabitant. Between Jedid and Ras Fartak the land is low and recedes, and as we sailed along we decided that it was the mouth of some big valley from the interior, and after careful cross-examination of the sultan of Kishin and our sailors we gathered that this was actually the mouth of the great Hadhramout valley, which does not take the extraordinary bend that is given in our maps, but runs in almost a straight line from west to east, and the bend represents an entirely distinct valley, the Wadi Mosila, which comes out at Saihut. We were two days getting to Sheher, anchoring both nights; the first, as 'dirty weather' was causing alarm, was a very noisy one, the servants and sailors talking and singing all night to be in readiness. The second night we were put to bed very quietly among the strange and weird stacks of rocks at Ras Dis, and had a heavy shower of rain, which, of course, penetrated our matting roof. When we reached Sheher, a messenger was sent ashore with a letter to Sultan Hussein, and a message was returned inviting us to take up our quarters in the same unfinished palace where we had lived ten months before. One of the first people to greet us was the _nàkhoda_ of the ship on which we had gone to Aden from Sheher. The word _reis_ for captain is never used. Ghaleb Mia was at the house to meet us, and we were much interested by finding that the governors of everywhere round about were in Sheher to give up their accounts. He of Hagarein was scowling, but they of Dis, Kosseir, and Haura seemed friendly and pleased to see us. We heard good accounts of various patients, and were especially pleased to hear that the daughter of the governor of Dis, who had for some time been bedridden with a bad leg, had been well ever since our visit--quite cured by Holloway's ointment. The next day there were great negotiations and plannings as to our future course. Our scheme was that we should go from Sheher to Inat in the Hadhramout valley, down to Bir Borhut and Kabr Houd, and thence eastward to Wadi Mosila, back to Sheher by the coast, and then try to go westward--or, as to us appeared preferable, to go up by the Wadi Mosila to Wadi Hadhramout, and then to try to get to the west without returning to Sheher. There we stuck for some days, listening to any gossip we could hear, and taking evening walks by the sea, guarded by soldiers. We were told that Sultan Salàh of Shibahm had lost his head wife, the sister of Manassar of Makalla, but had consoled himself by marrying four others about two months afterwards, and had divorced two of them already. The family of Al Kaiti are not very good friends among themselves; a soldier discharged by Salàh of Shibahm is always quickly engaged by Hussein of Sheher, and if Hussein dismisses a servant he is sure of a place with Manassar. They stop each other's letters and annoy each other in many ways, but are always ready to unite if any strange foe assails their family. Manassar had quarrelled with his wife, the daughter of Salàh, because Salàh, on the death of his wife, had refused to marry a third daughter of Manassar, as his dying wife requested. Hussein had only one wife and no children. There had been great trouble with the Hamoumi, and only three months before two soldiers had been killed about half a mile from Sheher. Ghaleb Mia and Hussein Mia dared not go to Inbula or anywhere outside their walls without forty or fifty men, and when Salàh's daughter, who is married to the seyyid, came to Sheher, she had to come by a circuitous route, with an escort of five hundred men. When a Bedou has committed a murder, he runs to the houses of the seyyids, where there is sanctuary, and gets absolution on paying four or five hundred dollars, according to the rank of the murdered man. Thus travelling is difficult unless you have paid _siyar_, and a relation of the _siyara_ is kept in prison at Sheher. All this time the behaviour of the sultans and their hospitality to us were very different to what it had been the year before; they sent us no presents of food, nor did they ever invite Imam Sharif to a meal, which they had constantly done when we were last there. Their manner was stiff and constrained, and they said they themselves had been badly treated for their kindness to us and that they were now considered Kafirs themselves. The fact is that all the Mohammedan world was in a state of restless activity, as the jehad, or holy war, was being preached. And now I will tell a most remarkable circumstance, quite the most extraordinary in this book. Sultan Hussein told my husband _on February 1_ that a consul had been murdered at Jedda. We were most excited about this, and anxiously inquired about it when we reached Aden, but heard that no murder had taken place, _nor did it till May_, when several consuls were murdered. This proves that it must have been a very long-arranged plan, and that the sultan knew of it and thought it had had time to be carried out. No doubt all this accounted for his bad reception of us. After a good deal of illusory delay, the sultan declared he could not in any way be responsible for our safety if we went anywhere from Sheher, so we had to bow to the inevitable and put ourselves on board a dhow belonging to Kutch, bound for Aden. The captain and sailors were all Hindoos, and to our amusement our Mohammedan party were as unclean as ourselves. The crew would not let us touch their fire and water, and filled our vessels themselves without touching them, very good-humouredly, and they made up an extra galley for us by putting some sand in a wooden box, and here Christians and Moslems had perforce to cook together. Of course we did not mind, but there was much laughter at the expense of the others, in which indeed they joined, for they bore their adversity amiably when it brought strange cooking-fellows. On reaching Aden we still desired to penetrate into the Jebel Akhdar, so looked out for a ship going to Maskat. We could find none, therefore we embarked for India with all our company. I am not going to describe India, but will only tell of our money difficulties. So ignorant were we and everyone at Maskat as to what money was in use in Dhofar, that we were persuaded that it was necessary to take an immense quantity of small change in the shape of copper coins about the size of a farthing, supposed to be Omani. We had four wooden boxes bound with wire, about 1 foot long and 5 or 6 inches high and wide, delivered to us, all closed up, and said to have a certain sum in each. Soon after we set out we opened one of these boxes to get out some money and have it ready, but found in it so many and various kinds of coins, all the same size, that we opened all the boxes, making quite a mound on the ground, to sort out the German East Africa, English East Africa, Zanzibar, and other useless coins, and then packed them neatly up, an awfully troublesome and dirty job. We kept out what we thought would pass, but behold! all were useless; no one would look at anything but Maria Theresa dollars and Indian coins down to two-anna pieces--nothing lower. All these boxes, therefore, had to return to Maskat, and when paying off the interpreter, Hassan, a most respectable person with large, round, gold spectacles, my husband asked him to be kind enough to take his money in these boxes and change at Maskat. No, he would only have good silver dollars; and sadly he rued his want of good-nature. We two and Lobo, whom we retained, went to a hotel in Bombay, but Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur, his four men, our Goanese cook, Hassan, and a certain young Afghan, Ahmet, who had been a sort of odd man and tent-pitcher, went to a caravanserai; and after Hassan's steamer had departed to Maskat, Imam Sharif came and told us the doleful tidings that Ahmet had disappeared with the good silver dollars and the gold watch and chain of Hassan. No doubt he then regretted he had not taken the boxes of copper. [Illustration: MAP OF MOUNT ERBA and surrounding country to illustrate the explorations of Mr. J. THEODORE BENT _Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_ London: Smith, Elder & Co.] AN AFRICAN INTERLUDE: THE EASTERN SOUDAN CHAPTER XXIII COASTING ALONG THE RED SEA In the winter of 1895, though we still wished to continue our investigations in Arabia, we found it impracticable, owing to the warlike state of the tribes there, so we decided to turn our attention to the other side of the Red Sea, and travel once more in Africa. Parts of Africa have to be discovered and other parts rediscovered. Each little war and each little journey contributes to the accomplishment of both these ends with surprising rapidity, but the geographical millennium is looming in the distance when the traveller will no longer require his sextant and theodolite, but will take his spade and pruning-hook to cultivate the land this generation is so busy in discovering. That winter we added a few square miles to a blank corner of the map where re-discovery was necessary, and where re-discovery will go on apace and produce most interesting results, when we have finished conquering the barbarous followers of the Khalifa, and restore law and order to that wide portion of Africa known as the Eastern Soudan; for the Soudan, meaning in Arabic 'the country of the blacks,' really extends from the Atlantic to the Red Sea. Little did we think when we started to explore the western shores of the Red Sea that the explosion with the Dervishes was so near, otherwise I think we should have turned our steps in another direction. We had with us Mr. Alfred Cholmley, who took numbers of beautiful photographs, and Lieutenant, now Captain, N. M. Smyth, D.S.O., Queen's Bays, kindly attached to our expedition by Colonel Sir F. Wingate, and to his exertions we owe the map. My husband had always thought it foolish to engage an interpreter unknown to him, on his own responsibility, and would only have one recommended by the official of our Government. The choice made for us on this occasion was not at all successful. He tried to make out that he was the principal leader of the party, and his impedimenta far exceeded ours. He may or may not have been sent to keep us from going more than ten miles from the coast, but no explorer would wish to remain within the limits set down in the Admiralty Chart. My husband found it necessary to dispense with his services when we were at Mersa Halaib, and we got on far better without him. Our first task was to choose a ship; it was exciting work rowing about in the harbour of Suez in order to find one that would suit us. A letter from our interpreter had told us we could have one at 120_l._ a month, a sum which our great experience of sailing-boats told us was quite too large. When we started our search, having refused this, we were only shown wretched boats in which we could hardly sit and certainly not stand. We espied one we thought would do, and said nothing at that time, but afterwards my husband and Matthaios went off by themselves and engaged her for 35_l._ a month, and I do not think that a better ship was to be found in Suez--certainly there was none worth 120_l._ Our boat was an Arab dhow of 80 tons, named the _Taisir_; we at once put her in the hands of a carpenter, who boarded off two cabins for us four whites, in the big, open stern cabin, leaving a sort of verandah in front of them, about 8 feet in depth, where we lived by day. Campbell Bey, who lives at Terre Pleine, pronounced by the English Terry Plain, kindly lent us two water-tanks containing half a ton each. We embarked late on Christmas night, and by the murky light of lanterns the ship looked most dreary and uninviting; but when we had furnished it, by laying down our tent carpet and beds and hanging sheets of coloured calico over the gaping boards of our walls, and had put up the cabin bags, we were quite snug. We always had to close in our verandah with a sail at night, for when the ship swung round at anchor we were exposed to the north wind. Our captain, Reis Hamaya, turned out an excellent fellow, as also did the seventeen sailors he had under him; and though at times they would quarrel loudly enough amongst themselves, the only points of discord which arose between them and us always had reference to the length of time they wished to stop in harbour and the length of distance they wished to go in a day. Ill-fed, dirty, unkempt men as our sailors were, we got to like them all, from the elderly dignified Mohammed, who thought he knew more about navigation than the captain, to Ahmet Faraj, the buffoon who played the tom-tom and made everybody laugh; this worthy individual was the recognised leader of all the festivities with which they regaled us from time to time, consisting of very ugly songs and a yet uglier dance, the chief art in which consisted in wagging their elastic tails with an energy which mortals further removed from monkey origin could never hope to approach. We travelled all the first night, but the second we anchored near Safaia Island, and the third at a place called Sheikh Ganem, in front of the Ashrafi Light, and the fourth day found us at Kosseir, which means 'little castle.' The Government steamer _Abbas_, which had started one day after us and gone straight down 'outside', had only got in two hours before us, and we had been 'inside', through the reefs, and stopped all night, so we thought we had not done badly. We stayed two nights in the harbour to make our final victualling arrangements. Kosseir, our last really civilised point, is now a wretched place, though twice in its existence it has been of importance, owing to its road connection with Keneh on the Nile. Five miles to the north of the present town are the ruins of the old Ptolemaic one, Myos Hormos (Kosseir Kadim), where the Red Sea fleets in ancient days assembled to start for India; twenty years ago it was a favourite point for the departure of pilgrims for Mecca, and the P. and O. had offices there, which are now turned into camel-stables. Kosseir is waiting for a railway before it can again recoup its fortunes. There are two mosques of pretty architecture, with courses of dark red stone from Keneh, and white Kosseir limestone; there are also diaper and fretwork patterns; the pillars are similarly decorated and are quaint and picturesque. The tombs of the Ababdeh sheikhs have melon-shaped domes, and there are endless dovecotes, chiefly made of broken old amphoræ built into walls. Along the whole coast-line from Kosseir to Sawakin one may say that there are no permanent places of residence, if we except the tiny Egyptian military stations, with their fort and huts for the soldiers, at Halaib, Mohammed Gol, and Darour; it is practically desert all the way, and is only visited by the nomad Ababdeh and Bisharin tribes, when, after the rains, they can obtain there a scanty pasturage for their flocks. During the Ptolemaic and early Arab periods the condition of affairs was very different; several considerable towns stood on this coast, now marked only by heaps of sand and a few fallen walls. In spite of its aridity, this coast has a wonderful charm of its own; its lofty, deeply serrated mountains are a perpetual joy to look upon, and the sunset effects were unspeakably glorious, rich in every conceivable colour, and throwing out the sharp outline of the pointed peaks against the crimson sky. The nature of this coast-line is singularly uniform, and offers tremendous obstacles to navigation, owing to the great belt of coral reefs along it, through which the passage was often barely wide enough for our dhow to pass, and against which on more than one occasion we came in unpleasant contact. The bay of Berenice, for example, was for this reason known in ancient times as akathartos kolpos, and is still known as 'Foul Bay'; it can only be navigated with the greatest care by native pilots accustomed to the various aspects of the water, which in many places only just covers the treacherous reefs. All boats are obliged to anchor during the night either just inside the reefs or in the numerous coves along the coast, which are caused by the percolations of fresh water through the sandbeds of rivers into the sea, and these prevent the coral insect from erecting its continuous wall. The rapidly succeeding little harbours formed in the coral reef are called _mersa_, or anchorage, by the Arabs, from _mersat_, anchor. Sometimes when the coral reef rises above the surface low islets have been formed, with sandy surface and a scant marine vegetation. By one of these, named Siyal, we were anchored for a night, and on landing we found it about three miles in length, some 50 feet in width, and never more than 4 feet above the surface of the sea. On its eastern side the shore was strewn with cinders from the numerous steamers which ply the Red Sea, and quantities of straw cases for bottles, out of which the ospreys, which live here in large numbers, have built their nests. Turtles revel in the sand, and corals of lovely colours line the beach, and at one extremity of the islet we found the remains of a holy sheikh's hut, with his grave hard by. Many such holy men dwell on promontories and on remote island rocks along this coast in sanctified seclusion, and they are regularly supported by the Bedouin and pearl-fishers, who bring them food and water, neither of which commodities is to be found in such localities. Our sailors on New Year's Eve took a handsome present of bread and candles, presented to them by us, to a holy man who dwelt on the extreme point of Ras Bernas, and had a long gossip with him concerning what boats had passed that way and the prospects of trade--_i.e._ the slave trade--in these desert regions. They burnt incense before his shrine, and the captain devoutly said his evening prayer, whilst he of the tom-tom, Ahmet Faraj, stood behind and mimicked him, to the great amusement of his fellows--a piece of irreverence I have never seen before in any Mohammedan country. Still I think our sailors were as a whole religious; they observed their fasts and prayers most regularly during Ramazan, and their only idea of time was regulated by the five prayers. 'We shall start to-morrow at "God is great," and anchor at the evening prayer,' and so forth, they used to say. It is difficult to estimate how far these coral reefs have changed since ancient days; there is a lagoon at Berenice which looks as if it had been the ancient harbour with a fort at its extremity. Now there are scarcely two feet of water over the bar across its mouth; but all ancient accounts bear testimony to a similar difficulty of navigation down this coast. At the same time, it is manifest that this coast-line is just the one to have tempted on the early mariners from point to point, with its rapid succession of tiny harbours and its reefs protecting it from heavy seas. More especially must this have been the case when the boats were propelled by oars, and in one's mind's eye one can picture the fleets of the Egyptian Queen Hatasou and of King Solomon from Eziongeber creeping cautiously along this coast and returning after three years' absence in far distant regions laden with precious freights of gold, frankincense, and spices. In later days Strabo and Pliny tell us how flotillas of 120 ships proceeded from Myos Hormos to Okelis in thirty days on their way to India, going together for fear of the pirates who marauded this coast, and in those days the settlements on the Red Sea must have presented a far livelier aspect than they do now. On both shores we find a curious instance of the migration and adaptation of an entirely foreign kind of boat. Some Arabs who have lived in Singapore--and Singapore is as favourite a point for Arab emigration as America is for the Irish--introduced 'dug-outs' in their native harbours, and these have been found so useful in sailing over the shallow coral reefs in search of pearls, that they now swarm in every Red Sea port, and steamer-loads of 'dug-outs' are brought from the Malay peninsula. The Arabs call them 'houris'--why, I cannot think--for a more uncomfortable thing to sit in, when half full of water in a rolling surf, I never found elsewhere, except on a South-East African river. At the present moment the coast below Ras Bernas and above Sawakin is the hot-bed of the slave trade, carried on between the Dervishes of the Nile Valley and Arabia. Regular Egyptian coastguard boats keep matters pretty clear north of Ras Bernas, and we can testify to their activity, for we ourselves were boarded and searched by one; but south of this, before the influence of Sawakin is reached, there is a long stretch of country where the traffic in human flesh can be carried on undisturbed. Troops of slaves are sent down from the Nile valley to the Dervish country at certain seasons of the year, and the petty sheikhs along the coast, owing a doubtful allegiance to the Egyptian Government, connive at this transport; and the pearl-fishing craft which ply their trade amongst the coral reefs are always ready to carry the slaves across to the opposite coast, where the markets of Yembo, Jeddah, and Hodeida are open to them. This will, of course, be the case until the Dervish power is crushed, and the Soudan opened out for more legitimate trade. As we sailed along we passed hundreds of these pearl-fishing boats engaged in this dual trade, and nothing could be more propitious for their pursuits than the absolutely lawless condition of the tribes by the coast. At Berenice, for instance, there are absolutely no government or inhabitants of any sort. Nominally, one of our Nile frontier subsidised sheikhs, Beshir Bey Gabran, of Assouan, has authority over all the country between the Nile and the Red Sea, but the coast has been visited more frequently by Dervish emirs than by Beshir Bey. One Nasrai, a Dervish emir, is said to have resided in the mountains behind Berenice for some time past, and, with a small following, collects tithes of cattle from the nomads and sees to the safe conduct of slave caravans. The collecting of _yusur_, or black coral, as they call it, a fossilised vegetable growth, is a third trade in which these boats are employed. From this pipes are made, and beads, and the black veneer for inlaying tables. The navigation of an Arab dhow is no easy task, with its clumsy arrangements for sails, when there is a strong north wind behind it and reefs in every direction. Three men are perpetually in the bows on the look out for rocks, and indicate the presence of danger to the steersman by raising their hands. The gear of these boats is exceedingly primitive. They do not understand reefing a sail, hence they are obliged to have no less than five different sizes, which they are constantly changing as occasion requires. They use a clumsy cogwheel for raising and lowering the sails, and do it all by main force, singing silly little distiches and screaming at the top of their voices as they haul the ropes. The arrangement for baling out the bilge water is extremely laborious. A large trough, with channels on either side, is erected in the centre of the boat, into the middle of which the water is baled by skins from below, and the stenches during the process are truly awful, as the water flows out of either channel, according to the roll of the ship. There was always a large surface of wet wood to dry up. Leaving Kosseir on the last day of 1895, we reached Ras Bernas on the second day of 1896, stopping, of course, each night, always rolling and tossing about, and always keeping a sharp look out for coral reefs, the watchers shouting advice continually to Reis Hamaya. We were supposed to owe our safety in getting through some dangerous reefs, with not a yard to spare on either side, and escaping our other difficulties, to the lucky fact of Reis Hamaya's having discovered amongst the plants that my husband had collected in our walks ashore one of the order of _Compositæ_, which he pounced on gladly and hung on the bow of the _Taisir_, as a protection to us. He pointed out another thing, a shrub called _tuldum_, with tiny yellow flowers on green stalks, good to tie round the arm to make one see far. Ras Bernas is a long, wandering cape composed of rocky hills of ironstone and silicate curiously blended together, with shoals and rocks, and coral reefs, and sandbanks hanging on to it in very shallow water. It is about twenty-five miles long, and ends in a sandy spit. We encamped at the head of the lagoon, and spent several days amongst the ruins of this old Ptolemaic town of Berenice, and made sundry excavations there. In its centre is an old temple of the date of Tiberius Cæsar, the hieroglyphs in which are rapidly becoming obliterated. All around is a sea of mounds covered with sand, where the houses stood, mostly built of madrepore, and laid out in streets. On the surface are to be found numerous glass beads, Roman coins, bracelets, &c. and a great number of fragments of rough emeralds. From the celebrated emerald-mines in the mountain behind we picked up fully fifty of these, besides a large quantity of olivines or peridots, cornelians, and crystals, testifying to the wealth of these parts in precious stones in ancient days. A few startled Ababdeh nomads came to visit us; at first they only inspected us at a distance, but gradually gained courage and came to our camp, and we were able to purchase from them two lambs to replenish our larder. With its emerald-mines, its harbour, and its great road terminus Berenice must have been one of the most important trade centres of the Red Sea; though, judging from the plans of the streets we made out, the town cannot have been a very large one. In digging we turned up immense quantities of textiles in scraps, fine and coarse, nets, knitted work, as well as weaving, plain and in colours, and bits of papyrus in Greek cursive hand. The wretched Ababdeh tribes were constantly at war with one another, and the Dervish Khalifa could make his authority felt about here with a small handful of resolute men judiciously placed. Nasrai had, I believe, done this for some time past with only thirty men. The nights here were very cold, the thermometer going down to 46° F. There were a few gazelles about, but we saw no other animals. The Bedouin brought us large shell-fish in those great shells we see polished at home. When boiled the fish comes out. It is in shape like a camel's foot, and they call it ghemel. In taste it is like lobster and oyster combined, but as tough as pin-wire. We had a great tossing for three days after leaving Berenice, and stopping every night. CHAPTER XXIV HALAIB AND SAWAKIN KADIM It is hard to imagine anything more squalid than the Egyptian fortress of Halaib, as it is spelt on the map, or Halei as it is pronounced, which was our next halting-place, and from which we succeeded in getting a little way inland. The governor, Ismael, has been there seven years; he and his family inhabit some wicker cages near the small white fort, and gathered round them are the huts of his soldiers and the cabins of a few Bisharin, who live under the immediate protection of the fort. Ismael is possessed of the only patch of cultivated land that we saw during the whole of our expedition, where he grows gourds, peas, and aubergines or brinjols. The man of most authority in the place is Mohammed Ali Tiout, head of the Bisharin tribe of Achmed Orab. He appointed his son, a fine, intelligent young fellow of five-and-twenty, called _the batran_ in the local dialect, to act as our guide and protector during our exploration of the Shellal range, which rises some miles inland at the back of Halaib. The people of this portion of the Soudan between the coast and the Nile Valley, who do not own allegiance to the Khalifa, belong to the Morghani confraternity of Mohammedans; their young religious sheikh, a self-possessed, clever lad of about twenty, lives at Sawakin, and his influence amongst the tribes not affecting Mahdism is supreme. He is devoted to British interests, and no doubt in the present condition of affairs his co-operation will be of great value. The Egyptian Government instructed him to write to the sheikhs around Halaib and Mohammed Gol to insure our safety, and to this fact I am convinced we owe the immunity from danger we enjoyed, and the assistance given to us in penetrating inland from Mohammed Gol. The Morghani have the three cicatrices on either cheek, and as a confraternity they are not in the least fanatical, and are well disposed to Christians; very different to the Arabs we met in the Hadhramout, and very different to the Dervishes with whom they are on such hostile terms. While at Halaib I paid several visits to the wife and family of the mamour or governor. They were very civil always, and used to kiss me. They looked quite as unsettled in their airy brushwood arbours as if they had not resided there steadily for seven years. There were three huts about 12 feet by 8 feet, one being a kitchen. There is a brushwood fence all round, part having a shed for the stores and water jars. The wife is a Turk, and has one plain grown-up daughter. There was an old lady who made coffee, and a black maid slightly draped in a sheet once white, but now of a general deep grey, pure black in some parts. I liked getting coffee and ginger best. The first day I had to swallow, smiling, tea boiled and a little burnt. All the furniture I saw was a 3-foot bed, three Austrian chairs, a very common wooden table, and a little iron one with a new and tight pink cotton cover and petticoat to the ground. All was very clean but the maid. The kind lady thought her dwelling so superior to mine that she begged me to come and sleep in the bed with her in shelter from the wind; tents, she said, were only fit for men. I did not envy her her home in the drenching rain we had all night and half one day. She wore a string round under one arm, with seven or eight charms like good-sized pincushions or housewifes of different coloured silks. We made two expeditions from Halaib; the first was to the ruins now known as Sawakin Kadim, which are on the coast twelve miles north of Halaib. As only six camels could be obtained we went by boat ourselves, leaving the camels for the baggage. For this purpose we deserted the _Taisir_ and hired a smaller _kattira_, and having gone as near as we could to land, and been in considerable danger from coral reefs, on which we ran suddenly, nearly capsizing, we took to the houri that we had towed astern. It was very like sitting in a bath, and, after the houri, we had to be carried a long way. We encamped not far from the shore, and had to endure a dreadful _khamsin_ and dust-storm from the south, with such violent wind that I was blown down, and Matthaios dug our beds out twice with a trowel; and the next day we found the north wind nearly as bad. Why it did not raise the sand I do not know. Sawakin Kadim is like Berenice, nothing but a mass of mounds, but it must at some time or another have been a much larger place. We excavated one of these mounds, but found nothing earlier than Kufic remains, unless the graves, which were constructed of four large blocks of madrepore sunk deep into the ground, may be looked upon as a more ancient form of sepulture. We opened several, but unfortunately they contained nothing but bones. Originally this town must have been built on an island, or an artificial moat must have been dug round it to protect it on the mainland side; this is now silted up, but is traceable all along. Three large cisterns for water are still in a fair state of preservation, and I am told that a Kufic inscription was found here some years ago. There seems no doubt that this town is the one mentioned by the Arab geographers, Abou'lfida and Edrisi, by the name of Aydab, which was a place of considerable importance between Ras Bernas and Sawakin. There are no traces elsewhere along this coast of any other town, consequently we can fairly place it here. Abou'lfida says: 'Aydab is a town in the land of Bedja; it is politically dependent on Egypt, though some say it is in Abyssinia. This is the meeting-place for the merchants of Yemen and the pilgrims, who, leaving Egypt, prefer the sea route and embark for Yedda. In other respects Aydab has more the aspect of a village than a town, and it is seven days' march north of Sawakin, where the chief of the Bedjas lives.' Counting a day's march at twenty-five miles, this would place it near Halaib, which is 170 miles north of Sawakin. Hitherto on our maps Aydab has been placed near Mohammed Gol, but, as there are no traces of ruins there except the towers to which we shall presently allude, this position for an ancient town is untenable. Edrisi tells us: 'At the extremity of the desert and on the borders of the salt sea is Aydab, whence one crosses to Yedda in one day and one night. Aydab has two governors, one appointed by the chief of the Bedja, and the other by the princes of Egypt.' From the fact that Aydab is mentioned by none of the earlier geographers it would appear not to have been one of the Ptolemaic settlements, but a town of purely Arab origin. The people of Bedja, so often alluded to by these Arabian geographers, seem to have had considerable power, and to have occupied all the Soudan and as far north as Berenice, being probably the precursors of the Bisharin Amara tribes, which wander now over this desert country. They were the recognised guardians of the old gold-mines which existed in this district, and concerning which I have more to say presently; and though vassals of the Egyptian kaliphs, nevertheless they seem to have had considerable local authority, and to have carried on wars on their own account. It is a curious fact that in the Aksumite inscriptions we come across an account of wars and victories by the old Ethiopian monarchs over the peoples of Kasuh and Bega to the north of Abyssinia, which peoples Professor D. H. Müller identifies with the people of Kush and the Bedja alluded to by the Arab geographers. In course of time the Bedjas seem to have disappeared from the face of the earth and left nothing but their tombs and a few ruined towns behind them; and for some centuries it would appear that the coast of the Red Sea north of Sawakin was uninhabited until in later years came fresh colonists from the Nile Valley, whose descendants still occupy it. The tribal traditions of the district are all that we have now to rely upon regarding the immigration of new inhabitants, and they state that two brothers with their families, one named Amer and the other Amar, came from the Nile Valley near Wadi Halfa, and settled along the coast of the Red Sea; from them are descended the Beni Amer and Amara tribes of Bedouin. These brothers were followed in due course by four other brothers, Ali, Kourb, Nour, and Gueil, from whom the tribes and sub-tribes of the Aliab, Kourbab, Nourab, and Gueilior are respectively descended. These tribes have never been anything but pastoral nomads, living in miserable mat huts, and spreading themselves over the district at wide intervals in search of pasture for their flocks. They entirely disown having anything to do with the remains of buildings and tombs found in their midst. CHAPTER XXV INLAND FROM MERSA HALAIB When we returned to Halaib we encamped preparatory to going inland. Great doctoring had to be done over the hand of Ahmet Farraj, our clown. He had held a large hook overboard, with a bait, but no line, and a shark 7 feet long was caught and hauled on board. The shark bit the man's first finger badly. Various remedies were applied by the sailors in turns--tar, grease, earth, and other things--and it was in a very bad state when brought to us. It was quite cured eventually, but we were afraid of blood-poisoning. When I began cleaning it most tenderly he scraped it out with a stick, and his friends dipped stones in the warm water and soundly scrubbed the surrounding inflamed parts. My husband prescribed a washing all over with hot water and stones. He was afterwards quite a different colour. Our second expedition was to Shellal. We took two days on our way thither, passing through clouds of locusts--that is to say, they were in clouds on our return, but were young and in heaps when we first saw them. We stayed at Shellal several days, for my husband thought as we could get no further in that direction on account of the danger of the Dervishes, it was as well that we, and especially Captain Smyth, should make as many expeditions thence as possible. We heard so many contradictory reports, but little thought how imminent the war was. After our somewhat long experience of life on a dhow we were delighted to become Bedou once more, and wander amongst the fine rocky range of mountains, but we were disappointed that our guide would not take us far behind this range for fear of the Dervishes; and, as shortly after the outbreak of the war a party of Dervishes came right down to Halaib, there is every reason to believe that had we gone far inland at this point we might have been compelled to pay the Khalifa a not over-pleasant visit at Omdurman. Wadi Shellal and the adjacent mountains of Shendeh, Shindoeh, and Riadh form a _cul de sac_ as far as camels are concerned, and only difficult mountain paths lead over into the Soudan from here. As far as we could see the country did not look very tempting or promise much compensation for the difficulties of transit. We were taken by the Batran to a few spots where there had been ancient habitations; they probably belonged to the Kufic period, and were doubtless military stations to protect the small hamlets scattered at the foot of these mountains, when Aydab was a place of some importance, from the incursion of hostile tribes from the interior. Shellal itself reaches an elevation of 4,100 feet; Shindeh, 4,500 feet; Riadh, 4,800 feet; and Asortriba or Sorturba to the south seems, though we did not get its elevation, to be the highest of the group. [Illustration: ELBA MOUNTAINS FROM SHELLAL] On our return to Halaib we passed a Bisharin encampment, consisting of half a dozen beehive huts made of matting on rounded sticks. The women were weaving rough cloths at the door of one of them, and were dressed in long sheets which once may have been white, but are now the colour of dirt. They had glass beads and cowries tied to their matted locks, and brass and silver rings of considerable size fastened to their noses; the small children ran about naked, with waistbands of leather straps, on which were strung long agate and carnelian beads, with cowrie danglements hanging down in front. They seemed very poor, and the old ladies to whom my husband gave pinches of tobacco were so effusive in their gratitude that for some moments he feared his generosity was to be rewarded by a kiss. Our net results from the excursions from Halaib were more or less of a negative character. The mountain scenery was grand, and the climate exquisite, but, from our observations, we came to the conclusion that at no time was this country of much use to anybody, and that it never had been thickly inhabited, the existence of Aydab being probably due to its position as a convenient port opposite Arabia for the inhabitants of the Nile Valley. Water is, and probably always has been, very scarce here, and, except after the rains, this country is little better than a desert. The Bishari of the Akhmed Orab tribe, who inhabit the mountains, are exceedingly few in number, and the Batran told us that all the way from Ras Bernas to Mount Sorturba, just south of Shellal, over which country his rule extends, the whole tribe could muster only about three hundred fighting men. They have the Ababdeh to the north, and the Amara Bisharin to the south, and apparently their relations with their neighbours are usually strained. These tribes are purely pastoral, and cultivate no land whatsoever. They live in huts in groups of from three to six together, and are scattered over the country at wide intervals. They wear their hair fuzzy at the top, with a row of curls hanging down the neck, usually white and stiff with mutton fat. They are medium-sized, dark-skinned, and some of them decidedly handsome. They are girt only with a loin-cloth and sheet, and every shepherd here carries his shield and his sword. Under a good and settled government they would undoubtedly be excellent members of society, but with the Khalifa on one side and the Egyptian Government on the other their position is by no means an enviable one. Their huts are very small and dingy, being constructed with bent sticks on which palm-leaf matting is stretched; inside they are decorated with their paraphernalia for weddings and camel-travelling, all elaborately decorated with cowrie and other shells, the most remarkable of these things being the tall conical hats with long streamers used for dances at weddings, entirely covered with cowrie shells in pretty patterns. The things they use for hanging up food are also prettily decorated with shells and strips of red and blue cloth. The family occupying a hut sleep on mats in the inner part, with the usual wooden African pillows, and around the outer edge of the hut are collected their wooden bowls for sour milk, their skins for water, their incense-burners, and their limited number of household utensils. Often when he goes off to distant pasturages a Bishari will pack up his tent and household gods and leave them in a tree, where he will find them quite safe on his return. They live principally on milk and the products of their flocks, water being to them a far more precious article than milk. They are very knowledgeable in the mountain shrubs and herbs, and pointed out to us many which they eat for medicinal and other purposes; but the only one of these which we appreciated was a small red gourd climbing amongst the mimosa branches, resembling a tomato, _Cephalandra Indica_. This they call _gourod_, their usual word for gourd. Also they are, like the akridophagoi whom Agatharchides places on their coast, large consumers of locusts when in season; they catch them only when they have reached the flying stage, and roast them in the ashes. We often saw clouds of locusts in this district, devouring all the scanty herbage and literally filling the air. For many years past the Egyptian authority in these parts has been _nil_, and confined only to a few wretched forts on the coast. Dervish raids from the interior and the stoppage of whatever caravan trade there ever was have contributed to the miserable condition of affairs now existing. One can well understand why these miserable hounded tribes are wavering in their allegiance between the Egyptian Government and the Khalifa, whom they dread, and why they countenance the slave-traders, for the reason that they have no power to resist them. For all practical purposes it is a wretched country, waterless during a great part of the year, except where some deep ancient wells, scattered at wide intervals over the country, form centres where camels and flocks can be watered; and as we travelled along we were struck by the numbers of these wells which had been quite recently abandoned. But the mountains are magnificently grand, sharp in outline like Montserrat in Spain, and with deep and lovely gorges. Formerly they abounded in mines, and were celebrated for their mineral wealth, and if there is ever to be a revival in this country it will be from this source that hope will come. We had such strong wind when we went to sea again that we feared we should not be able to start, but we got away after all, rising up early to be dressed before we were shaken about; but we forgot to empty our basins, and they emptied themselves into our beds, and all the luggage banged about and the kitchen things went all over the place, including the 'range,' consisting of two little stoves in paraffin-cans, but we got on splendidly till we began to turn into Mersa or Khor Shinab, as the Bisharin call it; the Arab name is Bishbish. Khor Shinab is a typical specimen of a _mersa_; it is cruciform, and is entered by a narrow passage between the reefs, about 20 feet across, and runs sinuously inland for about two miles, and is never more than a quarter of a mile wide. We had the second-sized sail up, but that had to be taken down and a smaller tried; the sheet of this soon gave way, and the sail went up in the air with the block and tore all across. This was a frightful sight, as we were among coral reefs. The sailors flew about, casting off garments in all directions. A smaller sail tore up in a few moments, and we were stuck on a reef. Then the smallest sail of all was taken out of its bag, and that got us off with some grating, the captain and some others standing on the reef on the port side with water half up to their knees, pushing with all their might. There were fourteen fathoms under us to starboard. The little sail soon gave way at the top and fell into the water. One anchor was sent out in a boat and then another, and when they tried to get up the first it was so entangled that they were a long time over it, and one of the five flukes was broken. We were kept off the reef by poles all this time. That broken anchor was then taken ashore, and we were very thankful to be safe. The flat ground for miles inland is composed of nothing but madrepore, and is covered with semi-fossilised sea-shells, which have probably not been inhabited for thousands of years. We walked over this for three miles before reaching the first spurs of the mountains, and it is impossible to conceive a more barren or arid spot. Khor Shinab is a well-known resort for slave-trading craft; small boats can easily hide in its narrow creeks and escape observation. We stayed two days while the sails were mended on the shore, and it was hours and hours before the anchor that was in the reef could be got up and fastened to the dry land. We did try to get out to sea again, but the north wind was raging so we could not do it, and, besides, the sailors were very unwilling to start, as a raven was sitting on the bow. CHAPTER XXVI MOHAMMED GOL At Mohammed Gol, to which port our dhow next conducted us, our prospects of getting well into the interior were much brighter, and our ultimate results beyond comparison more satisfactory than they had been at Halaib. Mohammed Gol is distinctly a more lively place than Halaib, possessing more huts, more soldiers, and actually a miniature bazaar where, strange to relate, we were able to buy something we wanted. The houses at Mohammed Gol are larger than those at Halaib, and one can stand up in some parts of nearly all of them. The fort is surrounded by a very evil-smelling moat, and the village situated on a damp plain, white with salt. When we made a camp on shore later we went well beyond this plain. In the summer season, when the waters of the Red Sea are low, traders come to Mohammed Gol for salt. The salterns are situated on the narrow spit of land called Ras Rowaya; consequently, the people about here are more accustomed to the sight of Europeans, and Mohammed Effendi, the governor, or mamour of the little Egyptian garrison, who is young and energetic, seems far more in touch with the world than Ismael of Halaib. He complained much of the dulness of his post, and passed his weary hours in making walking-sticks out of ibex horns, a craft he had learnt from the Bedouin of Mount Erba, who soften the horns in hot water, grease them, pull them out and flatten them with weights and polish them, using them as camel sticks. The governor gave us several of these sticks, and also presented an ibex-horn head-scratcher to me, remarking as he did so, with a polite gesture, that it was a nice thing to have by me when my head itched. He was a little and very dark man, with a pleasant, honest face, and three transverse scars across his cheeks, each about two inches long. His secretary was yet smaller, and decorated in the same way. The chief of the police was a very fat, good-humoured man, with two little perpendicular cuts beside each eye. These are tribal marks. There was great palavering about our journey into the interior. Though several travellers had visited the Red Sea side of the massive group of Mount Erba on holidays from Sawakin in search of sport, no one had as yet been behind it, and thither we intended to go. The governor had summoned three sheikhs from the mountains, into whose hands he confided us. The day we first landed I thought I never had beheld such scowling, disagreeable faces, but afterwards we became good friends. My husband and I went ashore the second day, and sat in a sort of audience-arbour near the madrepore pier, and many maps were drawn on the ground with camel-sticks, and we were quite proud that my husband was able to settle it all with no interpreter. Sheikh Ali Debalohp, the chief of the Kilab tribe, was to take us to his district, Wadi Hadai and Wadi Gabeit, some way inland at the back of the Erba mountains, which group we insisted on going entirely round. He was a tall, fine specimen of a Bishari sheikh, with his neck terribly scarred by a burn, to heal which he had been treated in hospital at Sawakin. He is, as we learnt later, a man of questionable loyalty to the Egyptian Government, and supposed to be more than half a Dervish; this may be owing to the exigencies of his position, for more than half his tribe living in the Wadi Hayet are of avowed allegiance to the Khalifa, and Debalohp's authority now only extends over the portion near the coast. As far as we could see his intentions towards us were strictly honourable, and he treated us throughout our expedition in a much more straightforward manner than either of the other two. Sheikh number two was Mohammed, the son of Ali Hamed, head sheikh of a branch of the great Kurbab tribe. As his father was too old and infirm to accompany us, he took his place. He was an exceedingly dirty and wild-looking fellow, with a harsh, raucous voice, and his statements were not always reliable. We have reason to believe that his father is much interested in the slave-trade, and therefore not too fond of Europeans; but these sheikhs by the coast are generally obliged to be somewhat double in their dealings, and, when anything can be gained by it, affect sincere friendship for the English. Sheikh number three bore the name of Hassan Bafori, and is _wagdab_ or chief of another branch of the Kurbabs, and his authority extends over the massive group of Mount Erba and Kokout. He is a man who seems to revel in telling lies, and we never could believe a word he said. Besides these head-men we had several minor sheikhs with us, and two soldiers sent by the mamour from his garrison at Mohammed Gol to see that we were well treated. Hence our caravan was of considerable dimensions when we took our departure from Mohammed Gol on February 6. He of the Kilab tribe, Ali Debalohp, was the most important of them, and he took one of his wives with him; all had their servants and shield-bearers, and most of them were wild, unprepossessing looking men, with shaggy locks and lard-daubed curls, and all of them were, I believe, thorough ruffians, who, as we were told afterwards, would willingly have sold us to the Dervishes had they thought they would have gained by the transaction. These things officials told us when we reached Sawakin; but, to do our guides justice, I must say they treated us very well, and inasmuch as we never believed a word they said, the fact that they were liars made but little difference to us. Some of the men had very fine profiles, and one was very handsome. Their hair is done something like the Bisharin's--that is, with a fuz standing up on the top, but the hanging part is not curled; the white tallow with which they were caked, made them look as if their heads were surrounded with dips. I asked why the tallow was put on. One said to make one strong, another to make one see far, and a third reason was that the hair might not appear black. We had fourteen camels for ourselves and two for the police who came with us. The mamour was in European uniform, with a red shawl wound round his head, and sat on a very smart inlaid saddle which came up to his waist in front and reached to his shoulder-blades. The chief of the police did not come, he being, as he told us, far too fat. We were to fill all our waterskins from a remarkably fine well of particularly sweet water at Hadi, so we took only a couple of skinfuls with us. CHAPTER XXVII 'DANCING ON TOM TIDDLER'S GROUND, PICKING UP GOLD' Little did we dream when we left Mohammed Gol with our rather extensive caravan that behind that gigantic mountain, which though it only reaches an elevation of 7,500 feet, looks considerably higher from the sea as it rises almost directly out of the level plain, we were to find an ancient Egyptian gold-mine, the ruins in connection with which would offer us the first tangible comparison to the ruins which had exercised our minds so much in the gold-fields of South Africa. Some miles inland on the plain behind Mohammed Gol are certain mysterious towers, some 20 feet high, of unknown origin. They have every appearance of belonging to the Kufic period, being domed and covered with a strong white cement. They have no doors, but have windows high up: some are hexagonal, some square, and they are apparently dotted all along the coast. Whether they were tombs, or whether they were landmarks to guide mariners to certain valleys leading into the mountains, will probably not be definitely proved until someone is energetic enough to excavate in one. They are found as far south as Massawa, but as far as we could ascertain those we saw were the most northern ones. In one we found two skeletons of modern date, with the scanty clothing still clinging to the bones, as they had lain in the agonies of death, poor sick creatures, who had climbed in to die. The tower of Asafra, which marks the entrance to the Hadi Valley, is about 20 feet high, and is octagonal. It struck us, from its position at the entrance of the valley system to the north of Mount Erba, that its original object had been a landmark which would be seen from the sea; had it been a tomb it would not have had the windows, and had it been either a tomb or a fort it would have had a door. There we halted, and bade adieu to the governors and officials of Mohammed Gol, who had accompanied us thus far. Our parting was almost dramatic, and the injunctions to the sheikh to see to our safety were reiterated with ever additional vehemence, the mamour holding my husband's hand all the time. Near the well of Hadi are numerous ancient structures of a different nature and more puzzling to account for. Circular walls, from 10 to 14 feet in diameter and 3 feet high, have been built, some in the valleys and some high up on the hills. The interiors of these have been filled with stones, the largest of which are in the centre, and in the middle of these large stones is a depression a foot or so deep. They certainly looked like tombs of some departed race, especially as they were generally placed in groups of two or three, and they resembled the tombs in the north of Abyssinia, except that those are filled with mounds of small stones, whereas these have larger stones and a depression in the centre. The water turned out to be rather like port wine to look at, full of little fish, tadpoles, and leeches. We put alum in a bucket to precipitate the worst mud, then filtered it without making it clear, but it was a tremendous improvement. I think there really was a better water-place near, but we did not find it. Bad as it was, water was taken for three days, as they said we should see none for that time. As a matter of fact, I think the people did not want us to know the water-places. We had a very warm night at Hadi, our tent, beds, and even clothes swarmed with beetles. On February 7 we started for Gumatyewa. All day we went among little pointed hills, some, indeed many, marked with most curious veins of ironstone, sometimes in cross-bars. We soon reached a place in the Wadi Gumatyewa, whence a camel to our surprise was sent for water, and was not very long away, so water cannot have been far off. The rest of the camels were unloaded, and we sat and waited under some trees. In fact, we could have camped near water each of the days which we took getting to Hadai. The sheikhs generally encamped at a little distance from us, and as they were given to nocturnal conversations and monotonous noises which they called singing, we were glad they were not too near. We gradually ascended as we followed the valleys inland, after the Wadi Iroquis, until on the fourth day we came to a curious narrow winding pass, about six miles long, which just left room between the rocks for our camels to walk in single file. This pass, which is called Todin, landed us on a small plateau about 2,000 feet above the sea-level, where we found a large number of the circular remains. Todin is one of the most important approaches into the Soudan on the north side of the Erba group, and is practicable the whole way for camels, from which we never once had occasion to dismount, though going down might not be so pleasant. Before reaching the pass of Todin we passed a most curious mountain, seeming to block up the valley. It looked rather like a rhinoceros feeding among the acacia-trees. Taking this country generally, I can safely say it is as uninteresting and arid a country as any we have ever visited. Our way perpetually led through valleys winding between low brown mountains, the dry river beds of which were studded here and there with acacia-trees. Occasionally one got a glimpse of the majestic spurs of Erba, and occasionally a fantastic rock or a hill-slope a trifle greener than the rest would temporarily raise our spirits. As for water, we had the greatest difficulty about it, and our guides always enveloped its existence with a shroud of mystery. Men would be sent off to the hills with a camel, and return to the camp with skins of water from somewhere, probably from gulleys where rain-water still lay; but until we reached Wadi Hadai, after a ride of six days, we never saw water with our own eyes after leaving Hadi. More water can be obtained by digging. There is a great deal of _Mesembryanthemum_ about, which probably supplies the place of water to most of the animals living in these regions. A good many doves came to drink at the water in the evening. Two days more brought us to Wadi Hadai, where we were to halt awhile to rest the camels. On the hill immediately above us was the circular fort, with its door to the east, to which I shall later allude, and on the plain below was another and smaller Kufic tower, several round buildings, and large stones erected on several of the adjacent hills evidently to act as landmarks. Also here we saw many graves of the Debalohp family--neat heaps of white stones, with a double row of white stones forming a pattern around them, and a headstone towards Mecca, on one of which was a rude Arabic inscription. These tombs reminded us very forcibly of the Bogos tombs in Northern Abyssinia, and evidently point to a kinship of custom. The place where we stayed in a wood of thorny trees was at the branching of two valleys. We always had cold nights, but our widely spread camp looked cheery enough with eight fires; there were so many different parties. Once we got into Wadi Hadai we were in Debalohp's country. He was chief of the large and powerful Kilab tribe, half of which owns avowed allegiance to the Khalifa, and the other half, with their chief, is put down as wavering by the Government at Sawakin. Luckily we did not know this at the time, or otherwise I question if we should have ventured to put ourselves so entirely in his hands, with the horrors of a visit to Khartoum, as experienced by Slatin Pasha, so fresh in our memories. At Hadai for the first time during the whole of our journey our interests were keenly aroused in certain antiquities we found--antiquities about which Debalohp had said a good deal, but about which we had never ventured to indulge any hopes. Hard by the Debalohp mausoleum was another Kufic tower, though much smaller than those we had seen on the coast, and not covered with white cement, and in the same locality were several foundations of circular buildings very neatly executed in dry masonry, which appeared to have at either end the bases of two circular towers and curious bulges, which at once reminded us of our South African ruins. On climbing an adjacent hill we found a circular fort, evidently constructed for strategical purposes, with a doorway, the ends of the wall being rounded, quite a counterpart of the smaller ruin on the Lundi river in Mashonaland. The analogy was indeed curious, and we talked about it hesitatingly to ourselves, as yet unable to give any satisfactory reason for its existence. On various heights around were cairns erected as if for landmarks, and we felt that here at last we were in the presence of one of those ancient mysteries which it is so delightful to solve. We had as interpreter from Arabic to Hadendowa, as none of our party understood that language, the sheikh whose name was Hassan Bafori. He brought three coursing dogs with him. We had also with us a certain Annibàle Piacentini as general odd man. He was really Italian, but had lived so long among Greeks in Suez that he was always called Annibale. He talked Greek with my husband, Mattaios, and me, and English with the others, besides Arabic. We rested our camels and our men at Hadai, and drank of some fresh water from a little pool, the first we had seen in this barren country, which was supplied by a tiny stream that made its appearance for a few yards in a sheltered corner of the valley, a stream of priceless value in this thirsty land. Debalohp suggested to my husband that he knew of some ruins in a neighbouring valley to which he could take him, but it was not without considerable hesitation that he decided to go. A long day's ride in this hot country, supposed to be almost, if not quite, within the Dervish sphere of influence, was not lightly to be undertaken, more especially as he had been on so many fruitless errands in search of ruins at suggestions of the Bedouin, and returned disgusted, and when he mounted his camel next morning, without any hope of finding anything, and sure of a fatiguing day, had a reasonable excuse offered itself, he would probably not have gone. But the unexpected in these cases is always happening. The long ride turned out only to be one of three hours. Wadi Gabeit was somewhat more fertile and picturesque than any we had as yet seen, and as a climax to it all came the discovery of an ancient gold-mine, worked in ages long gone by doubtless by that mysterious race whose tombs and buildings we had been speculating upon. Diodorus, in his account of an old Egyptian gold-mine, describes most accurately what my husband found in the Wadi Gabeit. For miles along it at the narrower end were the ruins of miners' huts; both up the main valley and up all the collateral ones there must have been seven or eight hundred of them at the lowest computation. Then there were hundreds of massive crushing-stones, neatly constructed out of blocks of basalt, which had been used for breaking the quartz, lying in wild confusion amongst the ruined huts, and by the side of what once was a stream, but is now only a sandy, choked-up river-bed. On a high rock in the middle of the valley he found a trifle of a Greek inscription scratched by a miner, who had evidently been working the rich quartz vein just below it. On an eminence behind the valley was another of the circular forts in ruins, similar to the one on the hill above Wadi Hadai, intended evidently for a look-out post to protect the miners at work below. Burnt quartz and refuse of quartz lay around in all directions, and on either side of the valley, stretched for a mile or more, were seams of the auriferous quartz just as it had been laid bare by the ancient workers. There was no question for a moment that he had come across the centre of a great mining industry, lost in these desert valleys behind the mighty wall by which Mount Erba and its spurs shuts off this district from the Red Sea littoral. Naturally he felt rather startled at being confronted with this unexpected discovery, and in the short space of time then available it was impossible to grasp it all. So he rode back joyfully to tell the news to his party at Hadai. He told Debalohp that he had decided that we should move our camp thither, and stay as long as it was possible. Difficulties again confronted us. Our two Kourbab sheikhs did not want to go. Sheikh Mohammed Ali Hamid was anxious to get on to his own country, and Sheikh Hassan Bafori quite set his face against our going at all, and Debalohp himself had to be firmly spoken to. An extra present to him was what finally helped us, and at length we all made a start on the following day to my husband's new El Dorado. We had become rather confused as to dates, and there was a difference of two days that we could not be in unity about. Before setting out for Wadi Gabeit we consumed for breakfast the artificial horizon that Captain Smyth had used for taking our latitude the night before. It was very good; it was golden syrup instead of quicksilver. Wadi Gabeit was just a trifle better than the country we had passed through, having finer trees in the valley beds; and here we saw the first colony of natives since leaving Mohammed Gol, consisting only of three huts of pastoral Kilabs, which will give an idea of how sparsely this country is inhabited. Debalohp's huts were certainly somewhere in the vicinity of Hadai, not more than an hour away, but for some reason known only to himself he would not take us there, though he went there himself every night, and when he joined us on our way to Wadi Gabeit he brought with him another wife, having evidently had enough of the other's company on his journey from Mohammed Gol. Their camping arrangements were never luxurious. The Mrs. Debalohp used to hoist a mat on a spear, to keep off the wind. Mr. Debalohp used to lie on another mat in the open, surrounded by his weapons. The huts we saw were made of sail-cloth, and were very neat inside. There is a passage all round where pots and baskets are kept, and within that a square room made of matting with a mat floor. One side of this is the sleeping apartment, and is entirely hung round with meat-safes, dancing hats, and camel trappings, all adorned with shells and beads. The huts are so small that it must be difficult to lie at full length. I bought a gazelle-trap from these people. It consisted of a circle of thin sticks, 6 or 7 inches across, bound round and round with bark. Between the bindings are set little thin sticks like a wheel, but crossing each other thickly in the middle. This is put under a tree over a hole, the noose of a long rope laid round it and the rope tied to the tree; the whole is covered with earth. When the gazelle comes to eat he steps into the hole. By the time he has disengaged himself from the trap he is caught in the noose, and a cross stick, 3 or 4 feet long, tied about a foot from the end of the rope, prevents him getting through bushes. A short time before reaching our goal we were met by a small band of natives, who tried to stop our advance with menaces, which we were determined neither to understand nor recognise. Possibly they were some of the Kilab tribe, who owned allegiance to the Dervishes; possibly they were actuated by the inherent dread the Moslem has of Christian enterprise reaching their secluded vales. However, our show of firearms and determination to go on had the effect of intimidating them, and after a somewhat feeble hostile demonstration and many palavers, we found ourselves comfortably established in our tents in the heart of the ancient industry, and peacefully distributing medicines from our chest to our whilom foes. The encounter was amusing to look back on afterwards, but by no means so at the time; the yelling and brandishing of spears and shields and the parleying of Hassan Bafori and Mohammed Ali Hamid, who went forward, and the earnest wishes for the presence of Sheikh Ali Debalohp, who had gone round by his home to join us later. We and our camels were led back, but we dismounted and went nearer in a body, and then our firearms were distributed, and my husband, saying he would wait no longer, went past them, we all following. He fortunately knew the way. After a bit our camels came, and we were soon in the Wadi Gabeit. Knowing where the water was, in a little rocky pool, my husband went straight over to it, and ordered that the water-skins should be filled at once, in case of any difficulties. My husband and I and Mr. Cholmley went for a little walk round a small hill, and then I said I would go back alone to the small, oval valley. Just round a corner I came face to face with all the enemy, on foot and on camels. I walked smiling to the worst old man, grasped his hand, and wished him a happy day. He started back, wrenched away his hand, waving me away, though Hassan tried to make him shake hands. The soldiers rushed forward, and I sat on a rock laughing at him, and saying I wanted to look at them. They all seated themselves close by. Captain Smyth, who had gone around making a reconnaissance, now arrived, his servant Hamid having galloped back on a camel to fetch him. He thought I was the only survivor. I told him the story before them, and imitated the old gentleman, pointing him out, and they all laughed when I asked how we could be afraid of them when they were so much afraid of me. They all shouted 'Peace! peace!' (salaam! salaam!) 'aman! aman!' (mercy!)--and subsequently came in a body to our tent to impress upon me that _I_ need fear no longer--we were friends. The real truth was that we were now very near, if not quite in, the territory of that branch of the Kilab tribe which owns allegiance to the Dervishes; when Captain Smyth rode ahead next day to take observations from a hill called Darurba, Mohamed Ali Hamed, who accompanied him, made him dress up in a sheet and pretend to be an Arab woman when they came in sight of some people whom he declared to be Dervishes. We were told of a native who had lately found a gold nugget whilst digging in the sand. The veins of quartz, particularly on the southern side of the valley, are very marked, and the chiselling by which the miners had followed up their veins could easily be seen; it would appear that the workings here had been of a very extensive character, and the output of gold in some remote period must have been very large. We were conducted to a hill about two miles from our camp, where there are old cuttings in the quartz, some of them going a considerable depth underground, and blocks of quartz were still standing there ready to be broken up; also we saw several crushing-stones here, but there were no traces of miners' huts, so presumably the quartz was removed to the valley below. On the rocks near the cuttings we saw many rude drawings, one of a parrot and several of gazelles, evidently done by the workmen with their chisels. In referring to records of the ancient gold-mines of Egypt, we find that a mine existed in the Wadi Allaki, some days south of Komombo, in the Bishari district. This mine was visited and identified by MM. Linant and Bonomi; there they found an excavation 180 feet deep, handmills similar to ours, and traces of about three hundred miners' huts, also several Kufic inscriptions on a rock. The mines, Edrisi tells us, were twelve days inland from Aydab. We must therefore look elsewhere for a notice of another mine nearer the Red Sea. Edrisi makes two mentions of these mines of Allaki, in one of which he says they are in a deep valley at the foot of a mountain; in another he alludes to them as on an open plain. On turning to Abu'lfida, we find him relating 'that Allaki is a town of Bedja; the country of Bedja is in the neighbourhood of the Red Sea. One finds there pearl-fisheries which do not give much profit, but in the mountain of Allaki is a mine of gold, which covers the cost of working. The mountain of Allaki is very celebrated.' Hence it would seem that two different spots are alluded to both under the name of Allaki, from both of which gold was obtained, one inland and one near the Red Sea. Professor de Goeje, of Leyden, the greatest authority on early Arabian literature, pointed out to my husband further discrepancies in the distances from Aydab to the gold-mines of Allaki in early Arab geographers, and suggests that the mines found by MM. Bonomi and Linant and ours, though several hundred miles apart, may have belonged to the same reef, and have been known by the same name. In M. Chabas' 'Inscriptions des Mines d'Or' we have a very interesting dissertation on an ancient Egyptian plan of a gold-mine on a papyrus in the museum of Turin, of the time of Seti I., which he thus describes: 'Unfortunately, the name of the locality, which the plan gives us under the form _Ti, ou, oi_, the phonetic signs of which form a confused combination, does not give us any clue. We must therefore limit ourselves to the conclusion that this map, the most ancient that exists in the world, represents to us an auriferous vein in a desert mountain situated to the east of Higher Egypt, and very near the Red Sea. The shells spread on the path leading to it are a proof that the sea is very near; we can only think of the Red Sea, the shores of which abound in coral, in sponge, and shells variegated with the most beautiful colours.' There seems every probability that the mine discovered by my husband was the one illustrated by the most ancient plan in the world, and, curiously enough, the Greek inscription we found seems to give a combination of vowels closely resembling the name given on the plan. On Egyptian inscriptions we constantly read of the gold of Kush, and that the prince of Kush was always interfered with in his works by the want of water, and from the Arab geographers we learn that they were finally abandoned by the caliphs owing to the want of water for washing purposes, and as far back as the reign of Usertesen we get illustrations of their washing process. Diodorus gives us a vivid description of the gangs of captives and convicts employed in these mines, and the miserable cruelty with which they were goaded on to work until they died of fatigue. He also gives some interesting details as to the processes of abstracting gold, which tally well with what we saw on the spot. 'They burn the quartz and make it soft,' which will account for the quantity of burnt quartz which we saw; and again, 'they take the quarried stone and pound it in stone mortars with iron pestles.' Mr. Rudler examined the specimens of quartz we brought home, and describes it as 'vein quartz, more or less ochreous with oxide of iron suggestive of auriferous quartz,' and told us that, unless we were going to start a company, there was no necessity to get it assayed; for archæological purposes the presence of gold was sufficiently established. Will this mine ever be available again for those in search of the precious mineral? is the first question that suggests itself. Unfortunately being no gold expert, I am absolutely unable to give an opinion as to the possibilities of the still existing quartz seams being payable or not, but there is abundance of it both in the Wadi Gabeit and in the collateral valleys, and it is improbable that the ancients with their limited knowledge of mining could have exhausted the place. Specimens of quartz that my husband picked up at haphazard have been assayed and found to be auriferous, with the gold very finely disseminated; an expert would undoubtedly have selected even more brilliant specimens than these. Against this the absence of water and labour seemed to us at the time to negative any possible favourable results; but, on the other hand, the mine is so conveniently near the sea, with comparatively easy road access, that labour might be imported; and such wonderful things are done nowadays with artesian wells that, if the experts report favourably upon it, there would be every chance of good work being done, and these desert mountains of the Soudan might again ring with the din of industry. The morning after we reached Wadi Gabeit an express messenger reached us from Sawakin, bidding us return to the coast at once, as we were supposed to be in considerable danger. Dervish raids were expected in this direction, and the authorities were evidently afraid of complications. A solemn palaver forthwith took place, at which our three sheikhs showed that they thought little of the supposed danger, and said that, though we were nominally in Dervish country at the time, there was no armed force near of sufficient strength to attack us. So we decided, and backed up our decision with a promised bribe, to stay another night in Wadi Gabeit, and to continue our course round Mount Erba, as we had originally intended, and with us we kept the messenger of woe with his gun and spear as an additional protection. CHAPTER XXVIII BEHIND THE JEBEL ERBA We left Wadi Gabeit next morning, and on the following day another messenger from Sawakin met us with a similar mandate; but as we were now journeying in a presumably safe direction we annexed him too, and went on our way rejoicing. Personally we felt that we knew the condition of the country better than the authorities of Sawakin, who had never been there. If our sheikhs had meant treachery they would long ago have put it into practice; our two Kourbab sheikhs, whose property is in and around Mohammed Gol, were ample guarantee for our safety; and, moreover, the country was so absolutely destitute of everything that we gave the Dervishes credit for better sense than to raid it. Our first day's march was dreary in the extreme, over country covered with dark shale, just like a colliery district without the smoke, and with the faintest possible trace of vegetation here and there. It was at this juncture that we lost our little dog, a pet that had journeyed everywhere with us; when search failed we gave it up for lost, and drew mournful pictures of the dear creature dying in agonies in the desert, foodless and waterless. The clever animal nevertheless retraced its steps, how we know not, to Mohammed Gol in five days, without food and with very little water, over the desert paths we had come--a distance of about 120 miles--and terrified the governor out of his wits, as he naturally thought it was the sole survivor of our expedition. It made its way straight to the jetty and swam to our dhow, the _Taisir_, and was picked up by our Arab sailors more dead than alive. After resting and feeding on the dhow for two days, the dog jumped overboard once more, and went off by itself to the mountains for three days in search of us; when this failed it returned again, and reached our dhow the night before we did, and was ready to welcome us on our return with a wildly demonstrative greeting. We eventually gave it to a sergeant at Sawakin, and have reason to believe that it is at present taking part with its regiment in the Soudan campaign. That day, Sheikh Mohamed Ali Hamed, who was riding a loaded camel, came to me so much disgusted with the smell of a box covered with black American cloth, that he asked me if it were not made of pig-skin. The people are so ignorant of what pig-skin looks like that they often handle it without knowing, otherwise they would not touch it. It was a distinct disappointment to us only to see the mountains of, and not to be able to penetrate into, the Wadi Hayèt, owing to its occupation by Dervish tribes. On excellent authority we heard that there were numerous ruined cities there, especially at a spot called Oso; that it was more fertile than the parts through which we had passed; that the Mogarra mountains were higher than Erba; and that it was well watered. Apparently this important Soudanese valley takes its rise in Bawati, to the south of Erba, and, after making first a bold sweep right through the heart of the Soudan, it reaches the sea to the north of Mount Elba, some twenty miles north of Halaib. This wadi will form an interesting point for exploration when the Soudan is once more settled, and if these statements are correct it will be of considerable importance in the future development of the country. As for the valleys near the coast, unless they prove rich in minerals they can never be of much value to any one. In Wadi Gabeit, the only industry now carried on by the very few inhabitants, except the rearing of flocks, is the drying of senna, which grows wild here in considerable quantities. They cut the branches and lay them out to dry on levelled circles; these they take down to the coast and export to Suez. We were now sixty miles, as the crow flies, from the sea. We were terribly afraid we should be made to go by a lower way between the mountains and the sea, in which case our journey would not be of nearly such great value in map-making, but at last my husband persuaded the sheikhs, saying he would sign, with all the rest of us, a paper to protect the heads of Sheikhs Ali Debalohp, Hassan Bafori, and Mohamed Ali Hamed, which we did. They said they did not themselves expect any danger. Had they done so they would never have let our camp extend over so much ground, with no concealment as regarded fires and shouting, nor would they have let their camels wander so far afield. The first place after Wadi Gabeit that we camped at was Hambulli, four hours distant. The thermometer was down to 50° in the night. There was another letter from the mamour and another from Sawakin and a most tremendous lot of consultations, and at last my husband sent a letter to the mamour: 'Your Excellency,--I have decided to go by Erba and Sellala and hope to reach Mohammed Gol in a shorter time by that route.' By this time we were in the Kourbab country, in that part under Sheikh Hassan Bafori, who governs a branch of the tribe. We liked the mamour's messenger, Sheikh Moussa Manahm, who came on with us, very much. Four hours of very desert journeying was our portion the following day. We were a good distance from water, but some was obtained by digging, thick with sand and earth. We had thus far carried water from Wadi Gabeit. We travelled six hours, wandering through desert valleys, in which everything was dried up, with clumps of grass in it as black as if they had been burnt, and as if they had not seen rain for years. All the valleys to the west of Mount Erba seem to be arid except Gumateo or Gumatyewa, a big valley which must have water near the surface, which runs all along at the back of the range, with arid hills from 500 to 1,000 feet on either side of it. Vegetation is more abundant, and masses of arack-trees (salvadora), supposed to be the mustard-tree of the Bible, grow here, the wood of which is much esteemed for cleaning the teeth. Wadi Gumateo seems to be a favourite nursery for camels. On our way we passed many camel mothers with their infants, feeding on the arack and other shrubs. At the upper end of this valley, where we encamped for a night, Mount Erba, with its highest peak, Mount Nabidua, stands out in bold and fantastic outline. It is a remarkable range as seen from this spot, shutting off like a great wall the Soudan from the Red Sea littoral. It was a most beautiful place and there was plenty of wood, so we could have fine fires at night and burn some charcoal for future use. On February 18 we had a much more enjoyable day, for we were winding about among the mountains. Twice we had to dismount to walk over passes. One was exceedingly fine, with bold and stupendous cliffs. There were several groups of huts in the Wadi Khur, which we next reached. There is much more vegetation here, many tamarisks and other shrubs giving delightful shade. Wadi Khur is the nursery for young donkeys, many of which, we were told, from time to time escape to the higher mountain, and have established the race of wild asses to be found here. The valley has a good many pastoral inhabitants, and in the side gorges are deep pools of lovely water in natural reservoirs, in which we revelled after our somewhat limited supply further inland. Up these gorges we found bulbs, rushes, and water-plants. At our camp here our men busied themselves in decorating their locks prior to reaching Sellala. Mutton-fat is beaten in the hands till it becomes like lard, and this material the hairdresser dabs at the curly wigs of his patients; those whose curls become the whitest and stiffest deem themselves the finest. As we were going through a very narrow gorge, where Wadi Khur has changed into Khor (gorge) Khur, some stones were bowled down from above, without hitting any part of our caravan. There was a great deal of shouting from the principal sheikhs to the offenders, and they desired one of the soldiers to fire off his gun, which he did. Sheikh Hassan did not half like the laugh that rose against him when I said, 'Last time it was Sheikh Ali Debalohp's men, and now it is yours.' We encamped while still in the Khor Khur, but the sheikhs would not allow the tents to be put near the rocks, fearing disaster, and in the morning Sheikh Hassan was in a great hurry to be off, coming and shouting 'Al khiem! Al khiem!' ('the tents!') to hasten us out of them and let them be packed. We had had to carry water from the last place. It had been so clear and clean when we had it in our own buckets. It had taken more than four hours to fetch with camels, but what we carried on was put into dirty skins, full of the mud of the place before, so it was horrible and a great disappointment; we had to wait for more. When we left this camp we were led to suppose we should reach Sellala, said to be an oasis, in about two hours and a half; but it took us an hour to get out of the Khor Khur, winding among high rocks with most beautiful shapes and shadows, rounding Jebel Gidmahm, which was on our left, and then we entered a very hideous wadi called Amadet. The floor of it was very up and down, and high rocks and little hills stood about, whereas the wadis are for the most part flat in the middle. But all round this ugly wadi there were high and fantastic mountains, range behind range. After that there was a narrow khor called Rabrabda, and finally a great sandy desert, where the hills were comparatively low, through which we marched for several hours, always looking out for the oasis, where we promised ourselves great enjoyment, intending to spend a few days in so nice a place. When at last we reached Sellala, which Ali Hamid's son had led us to believe was a perfect Paradise, instead we found a wretched arid spot, with one deep and well-constructed well, probably of considerable antiquity, surrounded by many mud drinking-troughs, around which were collected a large number of camels. All our promised verdure resolved itself into a few mimosa-trees and desert plants, and we encamped in great discomfort in a raging sandstorm, quite out of patience with our guide for his deceit. The wind was very wild and cold. We did not enjoy Sellala at all. Our tent had to be tied up in a tiny sandy cleft, and a huge boulder was under my bed. We had only two winds to trouble us there, though, instead of all four, which were raging outside. About 200 yards from the well was Ali Hamid's village, a collection of some six or eight huts, in one of which dwells old Ali Hamid himself, the aged sheikh of this powerful branch of the Kourbab tribe; and the only evidence that we had of greater prosperity was that the women here wear gold nose-rings and have long gold earrings and more elaborate ornaments hanging from their plaited hair. Ali Hamid looked very old and decrepit. He had a long hooked nose and exceedingly unpleasant face, and when we saw him we quite believed him to be, as they say, a hardened old slave-dealer. Perhaps the most remarkable fact about him was that he had a mother living, a wizened old crone who inhabited a tiny hut at Mohammed Gol, and reputed to be 135 years old by her friends, though I question if she was much over 90. Old age is rare among these nomads, and hence they make the most of any specimen they can produce. We sat in the village for some time, and purchased various camel ornaments--tassels which they hang from their necks, and curious adornments decorated with cowries, which they place before the covered awning beneath which great ladies conceal themselves when on a camel journey. Ali Hamid's son took us the next day on fast-trotting camels to visit some graffiti on basaltic rocks about eight miles distant. Here we found representations of animals chiselled on the hard rocks, similar to those we saw in Wadi Gabeit; we could recognise gazelles, camels, and elephants, and we thought the artist also had intended to depict giraffes, mongooses, and other strange beasts. Scattered amongst these animals are several Sabæan letters, the two [Symbol: script] (_ya_) and [Symbol: script] (_wa_) being very conspicuous. These scribblings were evidently done by the miners who were on their way from the coast to Wadi Gabeit, having landed at a convenient little harbour close by called Salaka. There is also one of the ruined towers not far from this spot, and the letters point to the fact that some of the miners here engaged must have been of Sabæan or Southern Arabian origin. Sheikh Ali Hamid came often to see us, with many other sons, besides Mohamed, who had travelled with us, and a few of the latter's children, clothed and naked. They used to sit in a semicircle round the door of our tent. Of course an exchange of gifts took place, and we were sent a sheep and a huge basketful of milk. The basket was shaped like a vase, a foot in diameter. A very nice inhabitant of the forbidden Wadi Hayet came to see us, Sheikh Seyyid Ta'ah. He gave us useful information as to the geography of his neighbourhood and the course of the valley. Captain Smyth went off from Sellala with Sheikh Mohamed to take a peep into Wadi Hayèt, and on February 22 we left the place without any regret and turned northward. There are five Sellalas, and one is really an oasis. The splendid mountains of Erba had been quite obscured by the sand, though there had been a magnificent view of them when we arrived. On the way we passed three more of the tall towers similar to those we had previously seen, and felt still more convinced that they were connected with the gold industry in the inland valley, and had been built to mark the roads conducting in that direction. We tried to find a sheltered nook to encamp in when we reached the mountains, but in vain. We stayed at Harboub, and were nearly stifled by the dirty dust that blew into the tents. The water was very clear and soft. We continued northward for two hours and a half, and then turned westward up the steep Wadi Ambaya. Wadi Ambaya is the chief valley of Mount Erba, and it runs right into the heart of the mountain. Up this we were conducted by Sheikh Hassan, in whose territory we now found ourselves. This valley is fairly well inhabited by pastoral people; they live in huts dotted about here and there, which are difficult to recognise from their likeness in colour to the rocks surrounding them, which they would almost seem to have been made to mimic. The slopes of Erba provide pasturage for a large number of flocks at all seasons of the year. Nabidua, the highest peak of the range, reaches an elevation of 7,800 feet; Sherbuk and Emeri are not much lower, and the outline of the rugged peaks is exceedingly fine. Up in the higher parts of this range there are a great number of ibex, several of which fell to Captain Smyth's rifle, but we did not care much for the flesh. The natives hunt them with dogs of a breed said to be peculiar to these parts. Our camp in Wadi Ambaya was a delicious spot, amid fantastic boulders and rich vegetation. On climbing up the gorge beyond us we came across a stream with running water, forming deep green pools among the rocks, and to us, after the arid deserts we had passed through, this spot was perfectly ideal; and the people, too, who dwell up in the higher ground, look infinitely healthier--lithe, active men, who leap like goats from rock to rock, each with a sword and shield. There are several valleys in Erba penetrating into the heart of the mountains, but Ambaya is the principal one. In the outer part of the valley, which is rather open, is a way into the Wadi Addatterèh, where we had already been. It was a tremendous scramble to get up the gorge, and our tents were perched on rocks, and Matthaios was delighted with his nice clean kitchen in the middle of the gorge. He rigged up some sticks to hang a cloak up as a shade. The servants had plenty to do preserving antelopes and ibex heads, and burning charcoal and washing. We were here made glad by Captain Smyth's safe return, and after staying three days we returned to the mouth of our wadi, and then went on toward the north, and after five hours camped under some large trees near a well of very good water, called Tokwar. We finished our journey into the Wadi Koukout at 8 o'clock next morning, having to leave the camels and squeeze on on foot. It is a veritable frying-pan. We had hardly room to pitch our tents, or to get into them when pitched, by reason of the big boulders and steep hollows where water swirled about. There was good water quite close. We had another messenger from Sawakin, Hassan Gabrin, to guide us by land, or, if we went by sea, to say we should go quickly. The morning after our arrival we started very early to visit Koukout, a mountain really separate from Erba, but looking like a spur of it, the highest peak of which is only 4,000 feet above the sea. Here again one penetrates into the mountain by a curious gorge, with deep pools of water, the rocks about which are, if possible, more fantastic than those of Erba. One comes to chasms, over which the water flows, which look like the end of all things; but by climbing up the side of these one finds the gorge continuing until the very heart of the mountain is reached, where is a little open ground well stocked with water and green. High up here we spent a few hours at a pastoral village, where we found the women busily engaged in making butter in skins tied to a tree; these they shake until butter is produced. They store it in jars, and take it to Mohammed Gol to exchange for grain, but they eat very little except the products of their flocks, and, like the Abyssinians, they do not mind eating meat raw. We saw some interesting domestic features in this mountain village. The children are given toy shields and spears, with which to practise in early life; and we found here several long flutes with four notes each, the music of which is weird and not unlike that of the bagpipes, and well suited to the wild surroundings. Here, too, they play the ubiquitous African game, munkala or tarsla. Two rows of six holes are dug in the ground, and in these they play with counters of camel-dung a mysterious game which I never can learn. Here they call it _mangola_, and it is played all down the East Coast, from Mashonaland to Egypt, and also, I hear, on the West Coast; it seems a general form of recreation throughout the Dark Continent, and has been carried by Africans to all parts of the world to which they have wandered. Here they were playing with holes in the sand, but one often sees them dug in marble blocks, or on rocks, or in pavements. There are two games--the game of the wise and that of the foolish; the former, like chess, requires a good deal of thought. [Illustration: FLUTE-PLAYERS IN THE WADI KOUKOUT, SOUDAN] Sheikh Hassan Bafori's mother resided in this village, so old that she looked like the last stage of 'She,' but no one said she was as old as old Ali Hamid's mother. I think the weaving arrangements were quite the most rude I have ever seen. The yarn had been wound over two sticks about 20 feet apart, and that stick near which the weaving was begun was tied by two ropes, each a foot long, to pegs in the ground. The other was simply strained against two pegs. At this end a couple of threads had been run to keep the warp in place. There was no attempt to separate the alternate threads so as to raise each in turn. There was a stick raised 4 or 5 inches on two forked sticks to separate the upper and under parts of this endless web of 40 feet. The weaver sat on her goat's-hair web, and never could get the shuttle across all the way. It consisted of a thin uneven stick, over a foot long. She had to separate twelve to fifteen threads with her hand, and stick in a pointed peg about 10 inches long, while she put the shuttle through that far; then she beat it firm with this instrument and went on as before, patiently. The shepherd boys looked very graceful, playing on the long flutes with four notes. One of these flutes belongs to each hut. We were interested, too, in seeing men making sticks out of ibex horns. They cover the horn with grease, and put it in hot water or over the fire to melt and soften it, and then scrape and scrape till it is thin enough and able to be straightened. The ibex-horn hairpins are made with six or seven bands of filigree round them. The women's camel-saddles have great frameworks of bent sticks, nearly as large as some of the huts, to give shelter, and are very smart indeed on a journey. On leaving Koukout, Sheikh Hassan took us to his well at Tokwar again, a deep and presumably ancient well, near which he has his huts; and from there to a spot called Akelabillèh, about four miles from Tokwar, and not far from our original starting-point of Hadi. Here we found slight traces of gold-working. About half a dozen crushing-stones lay around, and a good deal of quartz refuse. Probably this was a small offshoot of the more extensive mines in the interior which had not repaid continued working. A rapid ride of three hours from Akelabillèh brought us back again to Mohammed Gol and the close of our expedition, for already the first murmurs of disturbances with the Dervishes were in the air, and the mamour of Mohammed Gol and the officers at Sawakin affected to have been very anxious for our safety. We, however, being on the spot, had been in blissful ignorance of any danger, and further considered that the country we had traversed was not the least likely to be raided by any sensible people, desert and waterless as it was for the most part, and would offer no attractions in the shape of booty, except in the fastnesses of Mount Erba itself. Not one inch of the ground was under cultivation, and the few inhabitants were the poorest of the poor, and I think this is the only expedition we have ever made in which we never once saw such a thing as a hen or an egg. By the by, at the huts near Tokwar we rejoined Sheikh Ali Debalohp, who had been invited by Sheikh Hassan to stay a night, and with due permission from my husband he was able to do so. We saw the sleeping arrangements. On the ground was a piece of matting large enough for both to sleep on, and another bit a yard high, supported by sticks, round the three windiest sides. They were busy playing with a large lizard, of which they seemed to be afraid, and which had a forked tongue and very long teeth. It had a string round its neck, and was kept at bay with a sword. We reached Mohammed Gol the quicker that we had no foot passengers. All had scrambled on to the camels, and so we were by twos and threes on our animals. The little mamour Mohammed Effendi was delighted to see us, and we were soon drinking tea in his public arbour, surrounded by a crowd of now smiling faces--the very same faces which had scowled upon us so dreadfully when we first landed. We and our little dog Draka were equally delighted at once more meeting. We found the south wind blowing, if it can be said to do so in a dead calm--prevailing would perhaps be a better word. The madrepore pier had been nearly swept away, and the houses near the water were flooded. We settled into our ship again that evening. Next day was pay-day, and my husband and Matthaios went ashore with more than 40_l_. to distribute. The three big sheikhs, by the advice of the mamour, were given 2_l_. apiece; the soldiers got ten shillings each--far too much, he said; Mohammed Ismail, Sheikh Hassan Gabrin, Sheikh Moussa Manahm, Mohammed Erkab, and one Akhmet, a great dandy, had five shillings each. Besides this, other presents were given. Sheikh Ali Debalohp had a quilted cotton coverlet, and Mohammed Ali Hamid the same and a cartridge-belt; Sheikh Hassan Bafori a blanket, a smart silk keffieh and a sword-belt; and the mamour an opera-glass and a silk blanket, besides minor things; all seemed very well satisfied. They certainly were all very nice to us. The secretary gave me a tremendously heavy curved camel-stick of ebony, and the mamour besides a head-scratcher, which he had made me himself from an ibex horn, a stick of ibex horn, and seven and a half pairs of horns. We were weatherbound yet another day, everything damp and sticky. The south wind seems to me to have a very mysterious scooping and lifting power; no other wind lifts sand and water along as this one does. The wind began to freshen up towards night and got as far as the east, and by morning was blowing strong north by east. My husband had, as usual, to go out and stir up Reis Hamaya and tell him we must be off. He seemed as much surprised as he always was. We had a farewell visit from the little mamour, and off we set for a very rolly voyage. The whole day we rolled with the smallest sail, everything banging, beds jostling, but we were glad no longer to feel wet and sticky as regards our clothes, bedding, and the whole ship. Our last night on board was not the least exciting. We had stopped near Darour amongst reefs of coral. Every night when we cast anchor the ship used to turn round so that the north wind blew full on us and our cabins, but this night it whizzed round so violently as to drag the anchors, and we went back on to a reef--only a little, though, but enough to alarm all on board. The anchors had to be got up and taken by boat to fix into another reef. It was necessary for all the gentlemen and servants to assist the sailors in hauling us off the reef. It was very hard on the sailors, for their supper was smoking hot, ready for them after their day's fast, and the poor fellows had to work till 9 o'clock, doing the best they could for the safety of the ship. We went to bed, however, with the unpleasant knowledge that we were not very tightly fastened up, and the uneasy feeling that we might drag in the night, and not without making some little preparation in case of a swim. We were all safe in the morning, but almost the first thing we did, as we sat at breakfast, was to grind over a reef, more than the length of the keel. We duly reached Sawakin in the afternoon of March 4, where Hackett Pain Bey, who was acting-governor, kindly lent us two accommodation in the Government House, and we said farewell to the _Taisir_, its cockroaches, its mosquitoes, and its mouse; and the ship had immediately to be turned over on her side for repairs--needed, as the coral reefs had done a good deal of damage. Reis Hamaya was enchanted with a gift of the cabins with their padlocks, and I am sure they soon became very dirty holes. Though we were scolded for our pains, our approving consciences told us how pleasing to the British Government those pains had been, and how glad it was of some map beyond the Admiralty chart. Eight days after our arrival the news of the declaration of war came to Sawakin. We were offered a passage to Suez in the _Behera_ (which means delta), but as an ordinary steamer came in, and we did not know how long the _Behera_ might be waiting for troops, we thought it better to make our way northward at once. We reached Cairo just in time for Captain Smyth to be rewarded for his hard work, while with our expedition, by being ordered off to the war by Sir F. Wingate, who, with the Sirdar, was starting that night; Captain Smyth was to follow in two days. We felt very proud, and now he has the Victoria Cross, because 'At the battle of Khartoum Captain Smyth galloped forward and attacked an Arab who had run amok among the camp-followers. Captain Smyth received the Arab's charge and killed him, being wounded by a spear in the arm in so doing. He thus saved the life of one, at least, of the camp-followers.' [Illustration: MAP OF SOKOTRA to illustrate the travels of MR. J. THEODORE BENT. _Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_ London: Smith, Elder & Co.] THE MAHRI ISLAND OF SOKOTRA CHAPTER XXIX KALENZIA As we had been unable to penetrate into the Mahri country, though we had attempted it from three sides, we determined to visit the offshoot of the Mahri who dwell on the island of Sokotra. Cast away in the Indian Ocean, like a fragment rejected in the construction of Africa, very mountainous and fertile, yet practically harbourless, the island of Sokotra is, perhaps, as little known as any inhabited island on the globe. Most people have a glimpse of it on their way to India and Australia, but this glimpse has apparently aroused the desire of very few to visit it, for the Europeans who have penetrated into it could be almost counted on the fingers of one hand. During recent years two botanical expeditions have visited it, one under Professor Balfour, and one under Dr. Schweinfurth, and the results added marvellously to the knowledge of quaint and hitherto unknown plants. We passed two months traversing it from end to end, with the object of trying to unravel some of its ancient history so shrouded in mystery, and learn something about its present inhabitants. Mariette Bey, the eminent Egyptologist, identifies Sokotra with To Nuter, a place to be bracketed with the land of Punt in the pictorial decorations of the temple of Deir el Bahri, as resorted to by the ancients for spices, frankincense, and myrrh; and he is probably correct, for it is pretty certain that no one given spot in reach of the ancients could produce at one and the same time so many of the coveted products of that day--the ruby-coloured dragon's blood (_Draco Kinnabari_ of Pliny), three distinct species of frankincense, several kinds of myrrh, besides many other valuable gum-producing trees, and aloes of super-excellent quality. It is referred to by the author of the 'Periplus' as containing a very mixed and Greek-speaking population drawn together for trading purposes, trafficking with Arabia and India. Abu'lfida, Africanus, and other writers, Arabic and otherwise, mention Christianity as prevailing here, and Theodoret, writing in the beginning of the fifth century, speaks of the great missionary Theophilus as coming from the island of Diu to teach Christianity in India. Cosmas Indicopleustes calls the island Dioscorides. He visited it in the sixth century, and accounted for the Greek-speaking population he met with by saying that they had been placed there by the Ptolemies. El Masoudi considered the Greek a purer race in Sokotra than elsewhere. As far back as the tenth century Sokotra was a noted haunt of pirates from Katch and Gujerat Bawarij, from a kind of ship called _barja_.[13] Traders came from Muza Lemyrica (Canara) and Barggaza (Gujerat). Ibn Batuta gives an account of a certain Sheikh Said of Maskat being seized by Sokotran pirates, who sent him off empty-handed to Aden. Marco Polo describes the catching of whales for ambergris. El Masoudi[14] says the best ambergris comes from the sea of Zinj in East Africa: 'The men of Zinj come in canoes and fall upon the creature with harpoons and cables, and draw it ashore and extract the ambergris.' In the inscription of the Nakhtshe Rustam, near Persepolis, which we saw when in Persia in 1889, thirty countries are named which were conquered by Darius, the Akhemenid, amongst them Iskuduru, _i.e._ Sokotra. Though it is Arabian politically, Sokotra geographically is African. This is the last and largest of a series of islands and islets stretching out into the Indian ocean, including the little group of Abdul Kerim. Some of these are white with guano. Darzi, Kal Farun, Sambeh, and Samboyia are the names of some of the smaller ones. Sokotra itself is situated about 240 miles from Cape Guardafui, and is about 500 miles from Aden. The latitude of the island is between 12° 19' and 12° 42', and the longitude between 53° 20' and 54° 30'. It is 72 miles long from east to west, and 22 miles wide from north to south. There is a coral reef nearly all the way from Africa to beyond Ras Momi. According to the Admiralty charts the water between the islands and the mainland is 500 fathoms deep, but among the islands nowhere is it deeper than 200 fathoms. It is an island that seems to be very much in the way as far as navigation is concerned, and many shipwrecks have been occasioned by its being confused with the mainland, one being taken for the other. The wreck of the _Aden_, and the great loss of life resulting from it, which took place so soon after we were there, is still fresh in our memories. Our party consisted of Mr. Bennett, who was new to Eastern life, our old Greek servant, Matthaios, and two young Somali, Mahmoud and Hashi. They could talk a little English, but generally talked Arabic to us and Matthaios. We were told before starting that Mahri, or Mehri, was the language most in use, and we nearly committed the serious error of taking a Mahri man from Arabia, who could also speak Arabic, as an interpreter, but fortunately we did not do so, as he would have been quite useless, unless he could also have talked Sokoteriote. We found it no easy matter to get there. First we were told we should, if we attempted to go by sailing-boat, have to coast to Ras Fartak, on the Arabian coast, and let the monsoon blow us to Sokotra, and this seemed impracticable. Finally we arranged with a British India steamer, the _Canara_, that it should 'deviate' and deposit us there for a consideration. The ss. _Canara_ promised to await the arrival of the P. and O. steamer before leaving Aden, and would, for one thousand rupees (62_l._), take us to Sokotra and remain four hours. After that we were to pay thirty rupees an hour, and in no case would she tarry more than twenty-four hours. If landing were impossible, we were to be carried to Bombay. We were landed in a lifeboat, through the surf at the town of Kalenzia, which lies at the western end of the island. It is a wretched spot, a jumble of the scum of the East; Arab traders, a Banyan or two, a considerable Negroid population in the shape of soldiers and slaves, and Bedouin from the mountains, who come down with their skins and jars of clarified butter, to despatch in dhows to Zanzibar, Maskat, and other butterless places. Butter is now the chief product and almost the sole export of the island, and Sokotra butter has quite a reputation in the markets along the shores of Arabia and Africa. The sultan keeps a special dhow for the trade, and the Bedouin's life is given up to the production of butter. Nowhere, I think, have I seen so many flocks and herds in so limited a space as here. Kalenzia (the place has been spelt in so many ways that we took the liberty of spelling it phonetically as we heard it pronounced) has an apology for a port, or roadstead, facing the African coast, which is the most sheltered during the prevalence of the north-east monsoon. Separated from the shore by a bar of shingle is a lagoon, fed by the waters coming down from the encircling mountains, which reach an altitude of 1,500 or 2,000 feet. The lagoon is very prettily embowered with palms and mangroves, and the waters are covered with wild duck, but it is a wonder that all the inhabitants do not die of fever, for the water is very fetid-looking and they drink from nothing else. I believe this is the water which is supplied to ships. The shore is rendered pestiferous by rotting seaweed, and the bodies of sharks, with back fin cut out and tail cut off, which are exposed to dry on the beach. We preferred the brackish water from a well hard by our camp until we discovered a nice stream under the slopes of the mountains, about three miles away, to which we sent skins to be filled. This stream is under the northern slope of the Kalenzia range, and near it are the ruins of an ancient town, and as the water trickles on towards the lagoon it fertilises the country exceedingly, and its banks are rich in palms and other trees. The abandoned site of this old town is infinitely preferable to the modern one, and much healthier. We were received in a most friendly way by the inhabitants, and hoped that, as we were English and the island was to some extent under British protection, we should be able to proceed inland at once. Our nationality, however, made not the slightest difference to them, and we were told we must encamp while our letters were taken to the sultan, who lives beyond Tamarida, and await his permission to proceed farther. The eight days we had to remain here were the most tedious of those we spent on the island. One of our amusements was to watch boat-building accomplished by tying a bundle of bamboos together at each end and pushing them out into shape with wooden stretchers. They have enormous lobster-pots, 6 feet to 8 feet in diameter, made of matting woven with split bamboo, in patterns something like the seats of our chairs. The men often wear their tooth-brushes tied to their turbans; a sprig of arrack serves the purpose. Whilst at Kalenzia we must have had nearly all the inhabitants of the place at our tent asking for a remedy for one disease or another; they seemed to be mostly gastric troubles, which they would describe as pains revolving in their insides like a wheel, and wounds. The Sokotra medical lore is exceedingly crude. One old man we found by the shore having the bowels of a crab put on a very sore finger by way of ointment. A baby of very tender age (eleven months) had had its back so seared by a red-hot iron that it could get no rest, and cried most piteously. The poor little thing was wrapped in a very coarse and prickly goat-hair cloth, and its mother was patting its back to stop its cries, quite ineffectually, as you may well imagine. I spread some vaseline on a large sheet of grease-proof paraffin paper and applied it most gently. Its whole family then wrapped it up in the goat-hair cloth in such a way as to crush and put aside the dressing, and the mother laid it on its back, though I had warned her not to do it, on her knees, and jumped it up and down. The baby was none the better, but all around seemed pleased, and I could only sadly think that I had done my best. I find the grease-proof paper most valuable to spread ointment for man and beast where rags are scarce. One old lady, with an affection of the skin, would only have the 'bibi' as her doctor, so she came to me with a good many men to show her off, but would have nothing to do with my husband. I said the first treatment must consist in a thorough washing all over with warm water and soap: but behold! I heard there was no soap in the island, so halves and quarters of cakes of Pears' soap as well as whole ones, were distributed as a precious ointment. They have no soap, no oil, no idea of washing or cleansing a wound, and cauterisation with a hot iron appears to be their panacea for every ailment. A favourite remedy with them here, as in Arabia, is to stop up the nostrils with plugs fastened to a string round the neck to prevent certain noxious scents penetrating into it; but, as far as we could see, they make no use whatsoever of the many medicinal herbs which grow so abundantly on the island. The women of Kalenzia use turmeric largely for dyeing their faces and their bodies yellow, a custom very prevalent on the south coast of Arabia; they wear long robes, sometimes dyed with indigo, sometimes of a bright scarlet hue. The pattern of their dress is the same as that worn in the Hadhramout, _i.e._ composed of two pieces of cotton cloth wide enough to reach the finger-tips and with a seam down each side. The front piece is longer than in the Hadhramout, coming down to within a foot of the ground, but the train is also very much longer, and must lie more than a yard and a half on the ground. These ladies get good neither from the length nor the breadth of their dresses, for as the train evidently incommodes them, they twist the dress so tightly round their bodies that the left side seam comes straight or rather lop-sidedly behind and one corner of the train is thrown over the left shoulder all in a wisp. There is nothing to keep it up, so down it comes continually, and is always being caught up again. I never saw a train down, except once for my edification. Their hair is cut in a straight fringe across the forehead and is in little plaits hanging behind. They wear a loose veil of a gauzy nature, with which they conceal half their faces at times. Silver rings and bracelets of a very poor character, and glass bangles, complete their toilet, and the commoner class and Bedou women weave a strong cloth in narrow strips of goat-hair, which they wrap in an inelegant fashion round their hips to keep them warm, sometimes as their only garment. They do not cover their faces. From one end of Sokotra to the other we never found anything the least characteristic or attractive amongst the possessions of the islanders, nothing but poor examples of what one finds everywhere on the south coast of Arabia and east of Africa. Many weddings were going on during our residence at Kalenzia, and at them we witnessed a ceremony which we had not seen before. On the morning of the festive day the Sokotrans, negro slaves being apparently excluded, assembled in a room and seated themselves round it. Three men played tambourines or tom-toms of skin called _teheranes_, and to this music they chanted passages out of the Koran, led by the 'mollah'; this formed a sort of religious preliminary to a marriage festival; and in the evening, of course, the dancing and singing took place to the dismal tune of the same tom-toms, detrimental, very, to our earlier slumbers. The _teherane_ would seem to be the favourite and only Sokotran instrument of music--if we except flutes made of the leg-bones of birds common on the opposite coast, and probably introduced thence--and finds favour alike with Arab, Bedou, and Negro. The people here did not torment us by staring at and crowding round us. They came only on business, to be doctored, to sell something, or to bring milk wherewith to purchase from us lumps of sugar. The houses are pleasantly shaded amongst the palm groves, and have nice little gardens attached to them in which gourds, melons, and tobacco grow; and in the middle of the paths between them one is liable to stumble over turtlebacks, used as hencoops for some wretched specimens of the domestic fowl which exist here, and which lay eggs about the size of a plover's. Though a poor-looking place it looks neat with its little sand-strewn streets. It contains a single wretched little mosque, in character like those found in third-rate villages in Arabia; Kadhoup or Kadhohp possesses another, and Tamarida no less than two; and these represent the sum total of the present religious edifices in Sokotra, for the Bedouin in their mountain villages do not care for religious observances and own no mosques. Owing to the scarcity of water in the south-western corner of the island we were advised not to visit it; the wells were represented to us as dry, and the sheep as dying, though the goats still managed to keep plump and well-looking. Perhaps the drought which had lately visited India may have affected Sokotra too; and we were told before going there that a copious rainfall might be expected during December and January, for Sokotra gets rain during both monsoons; but during our stay on the island we had little rain, except when up on the heights of Mount Haghiers. One day we two went some distance in the direction of the mountains, and came on a large upright rock with an inscription upon it, evidently late Himyaritic or Ethiopic, and copied as much of it as was distinguishable. Not far off was the tidy little hamlet of Haida. The walls of the yards there are circular. Farther on, behind the village of Kissoh, are the ruins of an ancient village with a long, well-built, oblong structure in the middle, possibly a tomb; and it was behind this again that we found the good water that we drank afterwards. There must once have been a large population, to judge by the way the hills are terraced up by walls, and the many barren, neglected palm-trees about among the old fields. The Kalenzia range of mountains is quite distinct from Haghier, and is about 1,500 or 2,000 feet high. We could find no special name for it. They call it Fedahan, but that is the generic Sokoteriote word for mountain. The highest peak is called Màtala. We were very glad when a venerable old sheikh named Ali arrived bringing us a civil letter from the sultan and saying he had been sent to escort us to Tamarida. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 13: Elliot, i. 65.] [Footnote 14: i. 136.] CHAPTER XXX ERIOSH AND KADHOUP After four days waiting for camels, and the usual wrangling over the price and casting lots for us, which here they do with stones instead of wood as in Arabia, we started late on Christmas Day, going of course only a short way. As all were mounted on the baggage we could trot all the way; the camels were not tied in strings. The first night we stopped at Isèleh, an interesting place at the entrance of Wadi Gàhai below Mount Lèhe Diftom, about two hours from Kalenzia, whence at night we could see the numerous fires of troglodytes high up on the sides of the mountains; and were able next day to ride nearly all the way, except over a pass to Lim Ditarr, a depression in the hills sometimes filled with water, though there was none for us. A little was fetched, but we had to keep the water from our evening wash to serve next morning. This depression had in former times been used as a reservoir, for we could detect the remains of a stone embankment, a good deal despoiled for Moslem tombs. Our onward journey took us past a lovely creek, called Khor Haghia, running two miles inland, with silted mouth and overhanging yellow and white rocks. The bright blue water and green mangroves made a brilliant picture. About a quarter of a mile inland there is a deep pot of salt water, evidently left behind by the ocean when it receded from the shores of Sokotra; it is about 200 feet across, and has its little beach and seaweeds all complete, with its trees and bushes in its cliffs. We lunched at the brackish well of Dia, and at sunset reached the hideous plain of Eriosh, or Eriush, which has a flat surface of rock, about a quarter of a mile in extent and partly covered with dried mud, and of such soft stone that we could easily cut into it with pebbles. It is covered with purely Ethiopic graffiti, almost exactly similar to those we saw on the steps of the church and on the hillsides around Aksum in Abyssinia--long serpent-like trails of Ethiopic words, with rude drawings interspersed of camels, snakes, and so forth. Riebeck, who went inland from Itur, says these are Greek. Conspicuous amongst them are the numerous representations of two feet side by side, frequently with a cross inserted in one of them; there are many separate crosses, too, on this flat surface--crosses in circles, exactly like what one gets on Ethiopic coins. We met with another inscribed stone to the east of the island, bearing similar lettering. Hard by this flat, inscribed surface are many tombs of an ancient date. These tombs, which are found dotted over the island, bear a remarkable resemblance to the tombs of the Bedja race, once dwelling on the shores of the Red Sea to the north of Sawakin, and subject to the Ethiopian emperor; they consist of enormous blocks of unhewn stone, inserted in the ground to encircle and cover the tombs, and this forms another link connecting the remains on the island with Abyssinia. [Illustration: THE PLAIN OF ERIOSH, SOKOTRA.] When the Abyssinian Christian monarchs conquered Arabia in the early centuries of our era, and Christianised a large portion of that country, they probably did the same by Sokotra, and, inasmuch as this island was far removed from any political centre, Christianity probably existed here to a much later period than it did in Arabia. Marco Polo touched here, and alludes to the Christians of the island. In speaking of two isles near Greater India, inhabited respectively by men and women, he adds: 'They are Christians, and have their bishop, subject to the Bishop of Socotora. Socotora hath an archbishop not subject to the Pope, but to one Zatuli, who resides at Baldach, who chooseth him.' F. Xavier said among other things 'that each village had a priest called _kashi_. No man could read. The _kashis_ repeated prayers in a forgotten tongue, frequently scattering incense. A word like Alleluia often occurred. For bells they used wooden rattles. They assembled in their churches four times a day, and held St. Thomas in great veneration. The _kashis_ married, but were very abstemious. They had two Lents, and fasted from meat, milk, and fish.' When Padre Vincenzo the Carmelite visited the island in the seventeenth century he found the last traces of Christianity. 'The people still retained a perfect jumble of rites and ceremonies, sacrificing to the moon, circumcising, and abominating wine and pork. They had churches called _moquame_, dark and dirty, and they daily anointed with butter an altar. They had a cross, which they carried in procession, and a candle. They assembled three times a day and three times a night; the priests were called _odambo_. Each family had a cave where they deposited their dead. If rain failed they selected a victim by lot and prayed round him to the moon, and if this failed they cut off his hands. All the women were called Maria.' Of this there is now no trace. Both Sacraments had died out. This debased form of Christianity existed as late as the seventeenth century. The island was one of the places visited by Sir Thomas Roe in 1615. It is needless to say that all ostensible traces of our cult have long ago been obliterated, and the only Sokoteri religious term which differs in any way from the usual Mohammedan nomenclature is the name for the Devil; but we found, as I have already said, the carved crosses on the flat surface at Eriosh, and we found a rock at the top of a hill to the east of the island which had been covered with rude representations of the Ethiopic cross. Scattered all over the island are deserted ruined villages, differing but little from those of to-day, except that the inhabitants call them all Frankish work, and admit that once Franks dwelt in them of the cursed sect of the Nazarenes. We felt little hesitation in saying that a branch of the Abyssinian Church once existed in Sokotra, and that its destruction is of comparatively recent date. If we consider that the ordinary village churches in Abyssinia are of the flimsiest character--a thatched roof resting on a low round wall--we can easily understand how the churches of Sokotra have disappeared. In most of these ruined villages round enclosures are to be found, some with apsidal constructions, which are very probably all that is left of the churches. Near Ras Momi, to the east of the island, we discovered a curious form of ancient sepulture. Caves in the limestone rocks have been filled with human bones from which the flesh had previously decayed. These caves were then walled up and left as charnel-houses, after the fashion still observed in the Eastern Christian Church. Amongst the bones we found carved wooden objects which looked as if they had originally served as crosses to mark the tombs, in which the corpses had been permitted to decay prior to their removal to the charnel-house, or koimêthêria, as the modern Greeks call them. We stayed two days at Eriosh to study the _graffiti_ and tombs. Water had to be fetched from Diahàmm, which we afterwards passed. It was brackish. I have heard _riho_ said for water, but _diho_ was mostly used, and certainly the names of many water-places began with Di. I remember my husband answering the question where we should camp by calling out in Arabic 'Near the water.' This was echoed in Sokoteri, '_Lal diho_.' We took five days in getting from Kalenzia to Tamarida, and found the water question on this route rather a serious one until we reached Mori and Kadhoup, where the streams from the high mountains began. Mori is a charming little spot by the sea, with a fine stream and a lagoon, and palms and bright yellow houses as a foreground to the dark-blue mountains. Kadhoup is another fishing village built by the edge of the sea, with a marshy waste of sand separating it from the hills; it possesses a considerable number of surf-boats and canoes, and catamarans, on which the fishermen ply their trade. Just outside the town women were busy baking large pots for the export of butter, placing large fires around them for this purpose. The Sokotrans are very crude in their ceramic productions, and seem to have not the faintest inclination to decorate their jars in any way. There were quantities of flamingoes on the beach. We encamped at the foot of the hills, with a watery and sandy waste between us and the village. There are the foundations of some curious unfinished houses near Kadhoup, also assigned to the Portuguese; but there appears to me to be no reason whatsoever for ascribing these miserable remains to the builders of the fine forts at Maskat, the founders of Ormuz and Goa, and the lords of the East up to the seventeenth century. The mountains here jut right out into the sea, forming a bold and rugged coast line, and the path which connects the two places is as fine a one to look upon as I have ever seen. We had read a very awe-inspiring account of this path by Lieutenant Wellsted, and so were quite disposed to believe all our camel-drivers told us of the awful dangers to be encountered. They had formed a plan whereby their Kadhoup friends might come in for some of our rupees. We were not only to pay for camels, but also for a boat. Some, at least, of the camels were sure, they said, to fall into the sea from the cliffs, and our possessions, if not our lives themselves, might be lost. They said that we ought to send our baggage by boat, even if we risked the mountain path ourselves. We assured them that we had landed in Sokotra (which they pronounce Sakoutra) to see the island, and not to circumnavigate it. Others could pass, so we could. Their last hope was in my hoped-for faintheartedness. They watched till I was alone in the tent, and, having recounted all the perils over again, said: 'Let the men go over the mountain, but you, O Bibi! will go in a boat, safely. You cannot climb, you cannot ride the camel, no one can hold you; the path is too narrow, and you will be afraid.' That being no good, old Sheikh Ali came. He was anxious, poor old man, to be spared the exertion, and eventually rode all the way, except when there was no room. He said I should go in a boat with him; he would take care of me and give me musk (which he called misk) when we reached Hadibo. He often promised misk, but I never got any; and here I may remark that I have frequently heard Maskàt pronounced Mìskit in Arabia amongst the Bedouin of the East. We really did feel very adventurous indeed when we started. I rode my camel a quarter of a mile to the foot of the ascent. No one else thought it worth while to mount, but I was comfortably carried over a muddy creek. The Kadhoupers did get some rupees, for we were attended by twelve men carrying bamboo poles 10 or 12 feet long. It really was a stiff climb, but we had a good deal of shade, and when we reached our highest point there was a pretty flat bit with scattered trees and grass, about half a mile, I think. The twelve men had to carry the baggage slung on the poles for a quarter of a mile or so, where the overhanging rocks made the path too narrow for loaded camels. It was quite high enough for their heads, and we had plenty of room. It was marvellous to see the camels struggling along this road, and awful to hear their groans and the shouts of the camel-men as they struggled up and down and in and out of the rocks; and the hubbub and yelling over a fallen one was simply diabolical. We had the most tremendous clambering down soon after that, the baggage being again slung on the poles, and the camels came clattering down, with many stones, and looking as if they would rush over straight into the sea. When we got near the sea, say about 50 feet above it, we, on foot, diverged from the camel-track, which goes more inland, and followed a very, very narrow, washed-away path. This I think must have been the one described by Wellsted, for we were never, till we reached this part, near the sea, though possibly had we fallen we might have rolled over down a slope. The views inland up the rugged yellow crags, covered with verdure and studded with the quaint gouty trees, are weird and extraordinary, and below at our feet the waves dashed up in clouds of white spray. Though we had heard much of the difficulties of this road and the dangers for foot passengers, and we were told of the bleaching bones of the camels which had fallen into the abyss below, we experienced none of these hardships. We certainly saw the bones of one camel below us, but none of ours followed its example; and we revelled in the beauty of our surroundings, which made us think nothing of the toilsome scramble up and down the rocks. As we left the mountain side and approached the plain of Tamarida, we passed close by what would seem to have been an ancient ruined fort on the cliff above the sea, evidently intended to guard this path. CHAPTER XXXI TAMARIDA OR HADIBO Certainly Tamarida is a pretty place, with its river, its lagoon, and its palms, its whitewashed houses and whitewashed mosques, and with its fine view of the Haghier range immediately behind it. The mosques are new, and offer but little in the way of architectural beauty, for the fanatical Wahhabi from Nejd swept over the island in 1801, and in their religious zeal destroyed the places of worship; and the extensive cemeteries still bear testimony to the ravages of these iconoclasts, with their ruined tombs and overturned headstones. We encamped on the further side of a good-sized stream or little river, having it between us and the town of Tamarida or Hadibo; and this was really a protection to us at night, for the inhabitants of that neighbourhood are terribly afraid of certain jinni or ghinni, which abide in the stream, and will not go near it at night. Indeed, we remarked that it was considered by Hashi and Mahmoud, the two Somali servants, a wise precaution to draw all the water and bring up the washing, which was drying, in good time of an afternoon. They had heard such fearful stories that they were very much afraid of being bewitched while in the island, though I doubt whether I and my camera were not nearly as alarming. They had heard how a Sokotran man had turned a woman of Maskat into a seal and forced her to swim over to Sokotra in that shape. We were told that this story is perfectly true! This evil reputation of the islanders is very persistent. Marco Polo says: 'The Sokotrans are enchanters, as great as any in the world, though excommunicated by their prelates therefor; and raise winds to bring back such ships as have wronged them, till they obtain satisfaction.' It is only just to say we had no need to fear such honest and friendly people. Sultan Salem of Sokotra, the nephew of old Sultan Ali of Kishin, the monarch of the Mahri tribe, whom we had visited two years before on the south coast of Arabia, governed the island as his uncle's deputy. He had a castle at Tamarida of very poor and dilapidated appearance, which he rarely inhabited, preferring to live in the hills near Garriah, or at his miserable house at Haula, some eight miles along the coast from Tamarida. Haula is as ungainly a spot as it is possible to conceive--without water, without wood, and invaded by sand--quite the ugliest place we saw on the island, its only recommendation being that during the north-east monsoons the few dhows which visit the island anchor there, since it affords some sort of shelter from the winds in that direction, and Sultan Salem has a keen eye to business. His Majesty came to visit us, shortly after our arrival at Tamarida, from his country residence, and favoured us with an audience in the courtyard of his palace, with all the great men of the island seated around him. He was a man of fifty, with a handsome but somewhat sinister face; he was girt as to his head with a many-coloured _kefieh_, and as to his waist with a girdle supporting a finely inlaid Maskat dagger and a sword. His body was enveloped in a clean white robe, and his feet were bare. His conversation, both then and when he returned our visit at our camp, on which occasion he received a few presents, was solely about the price of camels and how many we should need. He did not ask us one other question. He talked little Arabic, being of the Mahri tribe. We gave him an Enfield carbine of 1863. On the plain behind Tamarida there is a conical hill about 200 feet high called Hasan, which has been fortified as an Acropolis, and was provided with cemented tanks. These ruins have also been called Portuguese, but they looked to us more Arabic in character. When one has seen the very elaborate forts erected by the Portuguese on the coasts of the Persian Gulf and East Africa one feels pretty confident in asserting that they took no steps to settle themselves permanently in Sokotra; in fact, their occupation of it only extended over a period of four years, and the probability is that, finding it harbourless, and worth little for their purposes of a depôt on the road to India, they never thought it worth their while to build any permanent edifices. In the neighbourhood there is a hill where the English are said to have encamped, and where there are traces of a more ancient civilisation, probably Portuguese. There are walls of small stones, cased with cement, and, inside them, a tank with conduits. Opposite to this hill, and across the stream, is a ruined village, only one house of which is still inhabited; it has circular walls and a circular paddock adjoining it for cattle. It is, perhaps, annoying to have to add another to the list of the many tongues spoken in the world, but I think there is no room for doubt that Sokoteri must be added to that already distracting catalogue. Though Sokotra has been under Mahri rule probably since before our era--for Arrian tells us that in his day the island of Dioscorida, as it was then called, was under the rule of the king of the Arabian frankincense country, and the best days of that country were long before Arrian's time--nevertheless, the inhabitants have kept their language quite distinct both from Mahri and from Arabic. Of course it is naturally strongly impregnated with words from both these tongues; but the fundamental words of the language are distinct, and in a trilingual parallel list of close on 300 words, which my husband took down in the presence of Mahri, Sokoteri and Arabic speaking people on the island, we found distinctly more in the language derived from an Arab than from a Mahri source. In subtlety of sound Sokoteri is painfully rich, and we had the greatest difficulty in transcribing the words. They corkscrew their tongues, they gurgle in their throats, and bring sounds from most alarming depths, but luckily they do not click. They have no word for a dog, for there is not a dog on the island; neither for a horse nor a lion, for the same reason; they seemed surprised at the idea that there might be such words in their language; but for all the animals, trees, and articles commonly found there they have words as distinct from the Arabic and Mahri as cheese is from _fromage_. At Tamarida we annexed a respectable man called Ammar as interpreter. He was familiar with all the languages spoken in the island, and daily, when the camp was all pitched and arranged, my husband used to produce a long list of Arabic words, and Ammar used to sit on his heels and tell the Mahri and Sokoteri equivalents, the words, however, being for the most part shouted out in chorus by numerous bystanders. I have since added the English, and the vocabulary will be found in an appendix. It was most difficult to get an answer as to anything abstract. For instance, 'clothes' would be asked, and Ammar, after inquiring if white clothes were meant, or blue, or black, or red, and being answered 'any clothes,' would give a list of garments of various shapes. 'Age' was a question that caused a great awkwardness, I am sorry to say. 'Well,' answered Ammar, 'it might be anything--seven, fifteen, seventy--anything!' After the greatest invention and planning on our part, we unhappily thought to put the question in this form: 'How do you say "What is your age?"' '_My_ age,' said Ammar, '_mine_--well'--with evident annoyance and great hesitation--'I'm thirty-five--_not_ old--not _old_ at all.' He is really quite fifty. On such occasions there had to be a tremendous conversation with the bystanders. [Illustration: THEODORE BENT MAKING THE VOCABULARY AT FEREGHET] I will not say more of the language than that instead of our little word _I_ the Sokoteri is _hemukomòn_ and the Mahri _evomúhshom_. I wish we could speak confidently about the origin of the so-called Bedouin, the pastoral inhabitants of the island, who live in the valleys and heights of Mount Haghier, and wander over the surface of the island with their flocks and herds. It has been often asserted that these Bedouin are troglodytes, or cave-dwellers pure and simple, but I do not think this is substantially correct. None of them, as far as we could ascertain, dwell always or by preference in caves; but all of them own stone-built tenements, however humble, in some warm and secluded valley, and they only abandon these to dwell in caves when driven to the higher regions in search of pasturage for their flocks during the dry season, which lasts from November till the south-west monsoon bursts in the beginning of June. Whilst we were on the island the season was exceptionally dry, and most of the villages in the valleys were entirely abandoned for the mountain caves. The Bedou is decidedly a handsome individual, lithe of limb like his goats, and with a _café-au-lait_-coloured skin; he has a sharp profile, excellent teeth; he often wears a stubbly black beard and has beautifully pencilled eyebrows, and, though differing entirely in language, in physique and type he closely resembles the Bedouin found in the Mahri and Gara mountains. Furthermore, the mode of life is the same--dwelling in caves when necessary, but having permanent abodes on the lower lands; and they have several other striking points in common. Greetings take place between the Arabian Bedouin and the Sokotran Bedouin in similar fashion, by touching each cheek and then rubbing the nose. We found the Bedouin of Mount Haghier fond of dancing and playing their _teherane_, and also peculiarly lax in their religious observances; and though ostensibly conforming to Mohammedan practice, they observe next to none of their precepts; and it is precisely the same with the Bedouin whom we met in the Gara mountains. There is certainly nothing African about the Sokotran Bedouin; therefore I am inclined to consider them as a branch of that aboriginal race which inhabited Arabia, with a language of its own; and when Arabia is philologically understood and its various races investigated, I expect we shall hear of several new languages spoken by different branches of this aboriginal race, and then, perhaps, a parallel will be found to the proudly isolated tongue of this remote island. The Bedou houses are round, and surrounded by a round wall in which the flocks are penned at night; flat-roofed and covered with soil, and inside they are as destitute of interest as it is possible to conceive--a few mats on which the family sleep, a few jars in which they store their butter, and a skin churn in which they make the same. The plan of those houses that are oblong is that of two circles united by a bit of wall at one side, the door being at the other. In one house into which my husband penetrated he found a bundle hanging from the ceiling, which he discovered to be a baby by the exposure of one of its little feet. Everything is poor and pastoral. The Bedouin have hardly any clothes to cover themselves with, nothing to keep them warm when the weather is damp, save a home-spun sheet, and they have no ideas beyond those connected with their flocks. The closest intimacy exists between a Bedou and his goats and his cows; the animals understand and obey certain calls with absolute accuracy, and you generally see a Sokotran shepherdess walking before her flock, and not after it. The owners stroke and caress their little cows until they are as tame as dogs. The cows in Sokotra are far more numerous than one would expect, and there is excellent pasturage for them; they are a very pretty little breed, smaller than our Alderney, without the hump, and with the long dewlap; they are fat and plump, and excellent milkers. The Bedou does very little in the way of cultivation, but when grass is scarce, and consequently milk, he turns his attention to the sowing of jowari in little round fields dotted about the valleys, with a wall round to keep the goats off. In each of these he digs a well, and waters his crop before sunrise and after sunset; the field is divided into little compartments by stones, the better to retain the soil and water; and sometimes you will see a Bedou papa with his wife and son sitting and tilling these _bijou_ fields with pointed bits of wood, for other tools are unknown to them. We hired our camels for our journey eastwards from the Arab merchants who live at Tamarida or Hadibo; they are the sole camel proprietors in the island, as the Bedouin own nothing but their flocks; and excellent animals these camels are, too, the strongest and tallest we had seen. Of our camel-men, some were Bedouin and some were negroes, and we found them on the whole honest and obliging, though with the usual keen eye for a possible bakshish, which is not uncommon elsewhere. The eastern end of Sokotra is similar in character to the western, being a low continuation of the spurs of Haghier, intersected with valleys, and with a plateau stretching right away to Ras Momi about 1,500 feet above the sea-level. This plateau is a perfect paradise for shepherds, with much rich grass all over it; but it is badly watered, and water has to be fetched from the deep pools which are found in all its valleys at the driest season of the year, and in the rainy season these become impassable torrents, sweeping trees and rocks before them; and the hillsides up to the edge of the bare dolomitic pinnacles of the Haghier range are thickly clothed with vegetation. Three considerable streams run from southward of Mount Haghier, fertilising three splendid valleys, until the waters, as the sea is approached, lose themselves in the sand. To the north there are many more streams, and inasmuch as the sea is considerably nearer, they all reach it, or, rather, the silted-up lagoons already alluded to. By the side of these streams innumerable palm-groves grow--in fact, dates form the staple food of the islanders. And out of the date-tree they get branches for their hedges, stems for their roofs; the leaf provides them with their sleeping-mats, and, when beaten on stones, with fibre, with which they are exceedingly clever in making ropes. Our camel-men were always at it, and produced, with the assistance of fingers and toes, the most excellent rope at the shortest possible notice. They also make strong girdles with this fibre, which the slaves, who are employed in fertilising the palm-trees, bind round their bodies and the trees so as to facilitate their ascent, and provide them with a firm seat when the point of operation is reached. They weave, too, baskets, or, rather, stiff sacks, in which to hang their luggage on either side of the camel. A Sokotran camel-man is a most dexterous packer. He must first obliterate his camel's hump by placing against it three or four thick felt mats or _nummuds_, and on this raised surface he builds all his luggage, carefully secured in his baskets, with the result that we never, during any of our expeditions with camels, had so little damage done to our property, even though the roads were so mountainous and the box-bushes were constantly rubbing against the loads. The camels are very fine specimens of their race, standing considerably higher than the Arabian animal, and when mounted on the top of our luggage, above the hump thus unnaturally raised, we felt at first disagreeably elevated. Whilst on the subject of camels and camel-trappings, I may add that each owner has his own mark painted and branded on his own property. Some of these marks consist purely of Himyaritic letters, whilst others are variants, which would naturally arise from copying a very old-world alphabetic original. I take these marks to be preserved by the steady conservatism of the Oriental; we copied many of them, and the result looks like a partial reproduction of the old Sabæan alphabet, and they may be seen in an appendix. Scattered over Sokotra there are numerous villages, each being a little cluster of from five to ten round or oblong houses and round cattle-pens. I was informed by a competent authority on the island that there are four hundred of these pastoral villages between Ras Kalenzia and Ras Momi, a distance of some seventy odd miles as the crow flies; and from the frequency with which we came across them during our marches up only a limited number of Sokotra's many valleys, I should think the number is not over-estimated. If this is so, the population of the island must be considerably over the estimate given, and must approach twelve or thirteen thousand souls; but owing to the migratory nature of the inhabitants, and their life half spent in houses and half in caves, any exact census would be exceedingly hard to obtain. The east of the island is, however, decidedly more populous than the west, as the water supply is better. We were constantly passing the little round-housed villages, with their palm-groves and their flocks. CHAPTER XXXII WE DEPART FOR THE LAND'S END--_i.e._ RAS MOMI After leaving Tamarida we spent a night at a place the name of which has been variously spelt. We decided to spell it Dihelemnitin. It has otherwise been called Dishelenata, &c. It is a lovely spot, at the confluence of two streams in a wood of palms, and we had a nice little flat field to camp in. When I say a field, I mean a wall-supported place once used as such. We saw very little cultivation except gardens at the villages, and the palm-trees were for the most part quite neglected. Near Tamarida we saw just a few fan-palms, and one I remember looked very odd, as it still retained every leaf it had ever had, and looked like a yellow tower, with the green leaves at the top. All the rest were bristling, withered down to the ground. In South Arabia people are punished if they steal each other's palm-leaves, as the ribs are valuable for many things as well as the leaves themselves, but here there are no restrictions of that kind. There was a good deal of climbing up and down to Saièhen, our next camp. While we stayed there my husband went about everywhere that he was told there were ruins or supposed inscriptions, but saw nothing worth mentioning except the inscribed crosses already alluded to. At first, after leaving Saièhen, we kept along the lower ground for some time, passing by Garriah Khor, a very long inlet or lagoon which stretches inland for at least two miles. We dismounted at Dis'hass, where, we were told by Ammar, 'the English once had houses.' It was a mass of ruins. We went over a pass about 2,500 feet high, and up and down two sets of hills to a level plain about 1,500 feet high, extending all the way to Ras Momi. As we ascended we passed a peak 2,000 feet high, called Gòdahan, which has a great hole in the middle of it, through which a large patch of sky is visible. We encamped near it, close to the hamlet of Kit'hab, in a wood of palms and various other trees, full of those pretty green and grey birds, half parrot and half dove, whose beauty, however, did not save them from our pot. From this place and even before we reached it we had very little personal use of our camels, the clambering up as well as down was so severe. There is behind the peak of Gòdahan a curious flat ridge, raised not very many feet above the plateau, which is called Matagioti, and is perfectly honeycombed with fissures and crevices, offering delightful homes for people of troglodytic tendencies. Huge fig-trees grow in these crevices, and dragon's-blood trees, and large herds of cows and goats revel in the rich carpet of grass which covers the flat surface of the plateau. Unfortunately, this rich pasture ground is only indifferently supplied with water. We obtained ours from two very nasty holes where rain-water had lain, and in which many cattle had washed; and when these dry up the Bedouin have to go down to the lower valleys in search of it. Before we left it had assumed the appearance of porter. There was a great deal of lavender growing about and numerous pretty flowers, and we found many shells in that place. It was so very cold that we had a fine bonfire to dine by, and the dew that night was drenching, pouring off our tents like rain in the morning. As Ras Momi is approached the country wears a very desolate aspect; there are no trees here, but low bushes and stunted adeniums covered with lichen, and looking just like rocks with little bushes on them; very little water, but plenty of grass. We encamped near the hamlet of Saihon, where, though there was no appearance of a mosque, there was not only a mollah but a doctor. The former was so free from fanaticism as to send us a present of a lamb. The inhabitants were very friendly to us, and let us go into their houses and watch their occupations. The women were busy grinding limestone to make pots; and we obtained a very dirty little bag full of a kind of organic substance like small white stones, which is ground to powder, mixed with water into a whitish paste, which after a little time turns red. I think they paint the pots with it. They were pleasant looking folk with quite a European cast of countenance, mostly ugly, and some with scanty beards, and reminding us strongly of the old frieze of the Parthenon sculptures in the Acropolis Museum at Athens. Really, they were just like them except for their colour, which is chocolate brown. We could not help thinking of the 'Moskophoros' when one came up to look at us with a lamb round his neck. We settled there for several days, not being able to go nearer Ras Momi for reasons connected with water. I cannot think it could have been really pleasant to the people of Saihon that we should have drunk up nearly all their water, and only left a little the colour of coffee behind us. We suffered badly while there from two things; firstly from the dreadful kind of grass upon which we were encamped, and secondly from a regular gale of wind. The grass, a _pennisetum_ I believe, is one we knew and hated in Mashonaland. The seed is like a little grain of very sharp oats, well barbed, which carries behind it into your clothes a thread like a fish-hook, about 2 inches long. As for the wind, when we came home one afternoon we found Matthaios in a most dreadful state, fearing the tents would be down. He was trying to get the outer flies off alone, and was delighted when my husband and I, the only two other experienced tent-dwellers, came to his assistance. For days we might as well have lived in a drum, for the noise of this tempest. There was a little round enclosure to keep goats in; we knew that Hashi and Mahmoud had taken this as their home, and we were satisfied that no matter which way the wind blew they were sheltered; but one evening before dinner we heard that Mahmoud was ill with fever. We both went to see that he was comfortable, and my husband took him some quinine. We found Hashi had put him to bed on the windy side of the enclosure, with a hard, stiff camel-mat under him, one over his body, and a third on his head. We soon moved him and wrapped him in blankets, and my husband having got some sacks and other things as a pillow, Hashi put them on the top of Mahmoud's head. We built up a waterproof tent over him, but soon had to unpack him, as the village doctor appeared on the scene, demanding a fee of two annas from my husband. He began by making several slashes on the top of his head and cupping him with a horn, which he sucked, gave him some medicine, and having spent a little time blowing in different directions, settled down, crouching over the patient, waving his hand as if making passes to mesmerise him, and muttering a few words alternately with spitting, slightly and often, in his face. Our joint efforts were successful in the recovery of Mahmoud, who was well next day. It is curious that in this somewhat wild and at present uninteresting locality we found more traces of ruins and bygone habitations than are found in any other part of the island. About five miles from Ras Momi, and hidden by an amphitheatre of low hills on the watershed between the two seas, we came across the foundations of a large square building, constructed out of very large stones, and with great regularity. It was 105 feet square; the outer wall was 6 feet thick, and it was divided inside into several compartments by transverse walls. To the south-east corner was attached an adjunct, 14 by 22 feet. There was very little soil in this building; and nothing whatever save the foundations to guide us in our speculations as to what this could be. Other ruins of a ruder and more irregular character lay scattered in the vicinity, and at some remote period, when Sokotra was in its brighter days, this must have been an important centre of civilisation. None of the natives would help us to dig in this place. They are very much afraid of the Devil, and think the ground under the ruins is hollow and that there is a house in it. At one time hopes were held out that the sacrifice of a goat might avert danger, but, after all, we and Matthaios had to do the best we could in the way of digging. We always carried tools with us. My part consisted in tracing out the walls with the trowel and moving stones. My husband and I found it most difficult next day to take the measurements in the high wind. From Saihon my husband climbed up a steep and rugged mountain to a ruined village on a strong place called Zerug. Ammar's family mansion was near: a cave containing three women, some children, and large flocks of goats, kept in the cave by a wall; it is heated at night, and very stuffy. Before leaving this corner of the island we journeyed to the edge of the plateau and looked down the steep cliffs at the eastern cape, where Ras Momi pierces, with a series of diminishing heights, the Indian Ocean. The waves were dashing over the remains of the wreck, still visible, of a German vessel which went down here with all hands some few years ago, and the Bedouin produced for our edification several fragments of German print, which they had treasured up, and which they deemed of fabulous value. Ras Momi somewhat reminded us of Cape Finisterre, in Brittany, and as a dangerous point for navigation it also resembles it closely. Near the summit of one hill we passed an ancient and long disused reservoir, dug in the side of it, and constructed with stones; and during our stay here we visited the sites of many ancient villages, and found the cave charnel-houses already alluded to. We lunched in a sort of cave, behind some huts on the opposite side of the valley, if such it may be called, from the bone caves, and were put to the rout by a serpent, which evidently liked the water in a little rocky pit in the mouth of the cave. It was horrible stuff, but we had brought water for our tea with us. Our supposed foe was slain. The serpent was very pretty, fully a yard long, black and salmon-coloured, and with a very tapering head and tail. It was said to be poisonous, but we thought it could not be. The hills all about Ras Momi are divided into irregular plots by long piles of stones stretching in every direction, certainly not the work of the Sokotrans of to-day, but the work of some people who valued every inch of ground, and utilised it for some purpose or other. The miles of walls we passed here, and rode over with our camels, give to the country somewhat the aspect of the Yorkshire wolds. It has been suggested that they were erected as divisions for aloe-grounds; but I think if this was the case traces of aloes would surely be found here still. Aloes are still abundant about Fereghet and the valleys of Haghier, but near Ras Momi there are none, and it is hard to think what else could grow there now; but these mountain slopes may not always have been so denuded. CHAPTER XXXIII MOUNT HAGHIER AND FEREGHET After leaving our camp at Saihon we took a path in a south-westerly direction, and after a few days of somewhat monotonous travelling we came again into the deeper valleys and finer scenery of the central districts of the island. Through them we made our way in the direction of Mount Haghier. Sokotra without Mount Haghier would be like a body without a soul. The great mass of mountains which occupies the centre of the island rises in many jagged and stupendous peaks to the height of nearly 5,000 feet. At all seasons of the year it catches the fugitive sea mists which so rarely visit the Arabian coasts, and down its sides flow sparkling streams and bubbling cascades. The Ghebel Bit Molek (a name which, by the way, sounds as if it had an Assyrian origin) is the highest peak. It is very sheer and unapproachable at its summit, and though only 4,900 feet high will give trouble to the adventurous crag-climber who is bent on conquering it. Then there are the Driat peaks, the Adouna peaks, and many others piercing the sky like needles, around which wild goats and civet cats roam, but no other big game. In the lower ground are found quantities of wild donkeys, which, the Bedouin complained, were in the habit of trampling upon and killing their goats. Whether these donkeys are naturally wild or descendants of escaped tamed ones I am unable to say. Some are dark and some are white, and their skins seemed to be more glossy than those of the domestic moke. The Bedouin like to catch them if they can, with the hope of taming them for domestic use. [Illustration: VEGETATION IN SOKOTRA] The glory of Mount Haghier is undoubtedly its dragon's-blood tree (_Dracænia cinnabari_), found scattered at an elevation of about 1,000 feet and upwards over the greater part of Sokotra. Certainly it is the quaintest tree imaginable, from 20 feet to 30 feet high, exactly like a green umbrella which is just in the process of being blown inside out, I thought. One of our party thought them like huge green toadstools, another like trees made for a child's Noah's Ark. The gum was called _kinnàbare_, but the Arab name is _kàtir_. The Sokoteri name is _edah_. It is a great pity that the Sokotrans of to-day do not make more use of the rich ruby-red gum which issues from its bark when punctured, and which produces a valuable resin, now used as varnish; but the tree is now found in more enterprising countries--in Sumatra, in South America, and elsewhere. So the export of dragon's blood from its own ancient home is now practically _nil_. If the dragon's-blood tree, with its close-set, radiating branches and stiff, aloe-like leaves, is quaint--and some might be inclined to say ugly--it has, nevertheless, its economic use; but not so its still quainter comrade on the slopes of Mount Haghier, the gouty, swollen-stemmed _Adenium_. This, I think, is the ugliest tree in creation, with one of the most beautiful of flowers: it looks like one of the first efforts of Dame Nature in tree-making, happily abandoned by her for more graceful shapes and forms. The swollen and twisted contortions of its trunk recall with a shudder those miserable sufferers from elephantiasis; its leaves are stiff and formal, and they usually drop off, as if ashamed of themselves, before the lovely flower, like a rich-coloured, large oleander blossom, comes out. The adenium bears some slight resemblance, on a small scale, to the unsightly baobab-tree of Africa, though it tapers much more rapidly, and looks as if it belonged to a different epoch of creation to our own trees at home. Then there is the cucumber-tree, another hideous-stemmed tree, swollen and whitish; and the hill-slopes covered with this look as if they had been decorated with so many huge composite candles which had guttered horribly. At the top of the candle are a few short branches, on which grow a few stiff crinkly leaves and small yellow flowers, which produce the edible fruit. This tree, in Sokoteri _kamhàn_, the _Dendrosicyos Socotrana_ of the botanist, is like the language of the Bedouin, found only on Sokotra, and is seldom more than 10 or 12 feet in height. It is a favourite perch for three or four of the white vultures which swarm in the island, and the picture formed by these ungainly birds on the top of this ungainly tree is an odd one. To the south of Mount Haghier one comes across valleys entirely full of frankincense-trees, with rich red leaves, like autumn tints, and clusters of blood-red flowers. No one touches the trees here, and this natural product of the island is now absolutely ignored. Then there are the myrrhs, also ignored, and other gum-producing plants; and the gnarled tamarinds, affording lovely shade, and the fruit of which the natives, oddly enough, do know the value of, and make a cooling drink therewith. Then there are the tree-euphorbias, which look as if they were trying to mimic the dragon's blood, the branches of which the natives throw into the lagoons so that the fish may be killed, and the poisonous milky juice of which they rub on the bottoms of their canoes to prevent leakage. Such are among the oddest to look upon of Sokotra's vegetable productions. Wild oranges, too, are found on Mount Haghier, of a very rich yellow when ripe, but bitter as gall to eat; and the wild pomegranate, with its lovely red flowers and small yellow fruit, the flannelly coating of which only is eaten, instead of the seeds, as is the case with the cultivated one. The vegetable world is indeed richly represented in this remote island, and one could not help thinking what possibilities it would offer for the cultivation of lucrative plants, such as tobacco, which is now grown by the natives in small quantities, as is also cotton; and perhaps coffee and tea would thrive on the higher elevations. The Bedouin would bring us aloes both in leaf and in solution, in hopes that we might take a fancy to this venerable Sokotran production. Now a very little of it is collected, and everybody takes what he likes from the nearest source, whereas, I believe, in former times, when aloes were an object of commerce here, the plantations were strictly divided off by walls, and the owners jealously looked after their property. The way the aloe-juice is collected is this. As the Abyssinians do when they are going to wash clothes the aloe-gatherers dig a hole in the ground and line it with a skin. Then they pile old leaves, points outward, all round till the pressure makes the juice exude. This at first is called _taïf diho_, or _riho_, both of the latter words used for water, though the former is the most usual. It is left till it is firmer and drier, and this takes about a month. Then it is called _taïf geshisha_. When it has dried for about six weeks it is nearly hard, and called _taïf kasahal_. It is exported in skins. The collection of dragon's blood is carried on just like that of the mastic in Chios. The drops are knocked off into bags. The drops which come off unbroken are the most valued, and called _edah amsello_. Then the nice, clean, broken bits are picked out, and called _edah dakkah_; the refuse, with bits of dirt, bark, and leaves stuck in it, _edah_. This is made up into cakes with a little resin and sold very cheap. My husband as usual made a botanical collection, and I believe it contained a few novelties; but for further particulars on the flora of Sokotra and the trees thereof I must refer you to Professor Bailey Balfour's very huge and equally interesting book. We were so fortunate as to have it with us, and it added much to our pleasure. Our way was over broken ground, with little of interest save the lovely views over mountain and gorge and the many dragon, frankincense, and myrrh trees, past an open space in which is the village of Jahaida, where the inhabitants had cultivated some little fields, to Röshi, where there was no village but a good deal of water. We encamped in a cattle-pen, the camel-men making themselves a capital house with floors, walls, and sides of the thick mats of the camels. These mats are really like hard mattresses, nearly 1 inch thick, and very stiff, about 1 yard long by 2 feet wide. We always tried to encamp in a field if we could, as then we were sure of some earth for the tent-pegs. After three days, during which I do not think our guides knew their way very well, we went over a steep pass, up and down, into the deep valley of Es'hab. We had wandered about a good deal backwards and forwards over stony wolds, and the men all disagreed as to the direction, and we had scrambled up a valley off our road to see some supposed inscriptions, a much more dangerous place than the Kadhoup road. The Es'hab valley, with its rich red stone dotted with green and its weird trees, forms an admirable foreground to the blue pinnacles of Haghier--tropical and Alpine at the same time. The climbing was most tremendous, up first and then down very steeply, all over large sharp loose stones, till we reached the water, the camel-men leaning backwards holding their camels by their tails with all their might by way of putting on the drag. When we reached the valley we gladly mounted our camels, and squeezed through woods, and often were nearly torn off. We encamped in a sweet place, with a stream and shade and a most fragrant carpet of basil, some of which we had in our soup, and some of which was carried on for future use. We found the management of our milk-tins rather difficult. We often had to resort to them, for, surrounded though we were by herds of cattle, the supply of fresh milk was very irregular: sometimes we could have more than we wanted and at others none at all. It is pretty dear, too, in Sokotra, as so much is used up for the _ghi_. [Illustration: THE BREAKWATER AT FEREGHET] On January 17 we forced our way on through more woods, the peak of Toff seeming to fill up the end of the valley, to the Wadi Dishel, and crossed over to the Wadi Dikadik, where we settled near a wide river in a beautiful grassy spot, with many trees entwined with monkey-ropes, rejoicing that on the following day we should reach Fereghe, or Fereghet, where we intended to rest some time. We had heard from Ammar a delightful description of it, and as we have so often been disappointed under such circumstances we said we would take all possible enjoyment out of the pleasures of hope beforehand. But really this time we had everything we expected, including a wide rocky river, enabling us to bathe, develop photographs, and set up a laundry. Fereghet was, in fact, a most charming spot. Here our tents were pitched beneath wide-spreading tamarinds, and we could walk in shade for a considerable distance under these gigantic old trees. Fereghet, moreover, was the site of an ancient ruined town which interested us exceedingly: walls, 8 to 10 feet thick, had been constructed out of very large unhewn boulders externally, filled with rubble, to check the torrent, which in the rainy season rushes down here carrying all before it to the sea. These walls, showing much skill in keeping a straight line, are clearly the work of an age long gone by, when weight-moving was better understood than it is at present, and doubtless the ruins of Fereghet may be traced back to the days when Sokotra was resorted to for its gums. The fine old tamarind-trees had done much to destroy the colossal wall, only about 100 feet of which now remains, still about 5 feet high; but there are many other traces of ruins and a small fort of later date. It is likely enough that Fereghet was a great centre of the trade of the island, for frankincense, myrrh, and dragon's blood grow copiously around, and the position under the slopes of Haghier, and almost in the middle of the island, was suitable for such a town. We opened a tomb not very far from Fereghet with a great block of stone over it, 6 feet long by 3 feet thick; but the ill-conditioned relatives of the deceased had placed nothing therein save the corpse; and we were annoyed not to find any trace of inscriptions near this ruined town, which might have thrown some light on the subject. All I feel sure of is that the Portuguese did not build this town, as it is commonly asserted. In fact we did not see any building on the island which can definitely be ascribed to that nation. Below Fereghet the valley gets broader and runs straight down to the sea at the south of the island, where the streams from Mount Haghier all lose themselves in a vast plain of sand called Noget, which we could see from the mountains up which we climbed. This is the widest point of the island of Sokotra, and it is really only thirty-six miles between the ocean at Tamarida and the ocean at Noget, but the intervention of Mount Haghier and its ramifications make it appear a very long way indeed. The island to the east and to the west of its great mountain very soon loses its fantastic scenery and its ample supply of water. The most remarkable peak we could see from Fereghet was Adouna. The topmost point of this mountain is split. We saw this clearly afterwards, when we continued our journey up the valley, but from Fereghet, I found it out by seeing a small cloud passing through it. To look at the mountains you would think they were made of black stone with a few patches of red lichen, but really these patches of red are the natural rock showing amongst the fine black lichen which covers the mountains. The channels of the water in the river-bed are shown by this blackness, and the water looks like an inky stream. Beyond Fereghet we were near a river the water of which was very low. The main bed of the water-channel was all black, and above this was a coat of white over the blackened stones, and as the remaining pools were all white, I suppose that some white tributary continues flowing later than the black stream. The few Bedouin who live round Fereghet were in constant contact with our camp, as you will understand when you know that our tent was pitched exactly on their high road--a little narrow path. They behaved most kindly in going aside. The women used to bring us aloe plants just torn up, and seemed much disappointed at finding that we did not find any use for them. We heard from them that there is only one leper on the island and he lives alone in the hills. Our sheltering tamarind-trees, wide-spreading and gnarled, abounded in doves; some were small ones like ours, and some of the parrot kind, whose cawing was far from sedative. We enjoyed wandering in the shade of the fig-trees, wild and unprofitable, the date and other trees. Around us stood the relics of a bygone race of men, who had ill-naturedly left us no inscriptions on stone, and no clue to tell us who they were. Mountains hemmed us in on every side, and any little wind was very refreshing, for we were only about 400 feet above the sea-level, and quite sheltered from our now only too-well-known north-east monsoon. On a kind of promontory by a deep pool in the river is a building of stones and mortar, later in style than the wall and equally inexplicable, probably a fort. It is impossible to describe the fantastic beauty of the delightful Fereghet. We were quite sorry to leave it on January 24. We rode a little way along the river, passing a single fan-palm-tree, very tall and bare, and then had another great climb up and down. We passed a good many old tombs, which had been opened. They were made of large slabs. We found one in the evening not far from our camp, so we opened it the following morning before starting. After a great deal of trouble with the pickaxes and crowbar nothing was found but bones. We measured the top stone, 6 feet 5 inches by 2 feet 10 inches and 1 foot 5 inches thick. We next scrambled up a wooded mountain, steep enough, but nothing to the downward scramble. There was no particular road: one had to stick one's heels into trailing masses of sharp chips and blocks of red stone and let them slide as short a way as they would. The booted portion of our party began to feel great anxiety as to foot-gear. We wondered if our boots could possibly last to Tamarida where we had left a good deal of baggage, _i.e._ clothes that we had needed on the steamer. We used to apply the gums of various trees to the soles and toes to retard consumption. The camels sat down and slid, or looked as if they were doing so; the camel-men, holding the tails, nearly lay on their backs; but we reached the river safely, encamped there, and rode most of next day up a valley, crossing the water often. We had to wind in and out of clumps of trees, sometimes lying on our camels to get under branches, and finally, after going through thick woods, stopped at the foot of some mighty mountains. Though many of our camps on Mount Haghier and the expeditions therefrom were very delightful, I think this one, called Yehazahaz, was decidedly the prettiest. It was low down on the southern slope of Mount Haghier; our tents were pitched in a grove of palm-trees at the meeting of two rushing streams; tangled vegetation hung around us on every side, and whichever way we looked we had glimpses of granite peaks and rugged hill-sides clad with dragon's-blood. The village was quite hidden by trees and creepers, but its inhabitants were away on the higher pasturage, and our men occupied the empty tenements. [Illustration: DRAGON'S-BLOOD TREES AT YEHAZAHAZ] We stayed there a couple of days, and the first evening as we were sitting in our tent after tea, a tremendous noise and shouting proceeded from the direction of our kitchen. This proved to be occasioned by the discovery of some long-suspected sugar thieves. They were the three youngest of our camel-drivers. They were all tied to a palm-tree with their arms round it, and Ammar began scourging them with a rope. I begged them off; my husband thought I had been foolish, particularly as the scourging had not been ordered by him. The boys certainly did not seem to mind it a bit. However, the elder men consulted and Ammar brought a rupee next morning as a fine, which my husband thought it right to accept. The red mountains here assume a greyish-white appearance. The land shells seemed to grow larger on the tops of the mountains. We found some about 3 inches in length. On leaving Yehazahaz there was no riding for us, but a climb afoot straight up a steep pass and down across a river and over a second pass. The way was mostly rough and through woods, but there were a few little grassy bits. We descended only about 100 feet and pitched our tents on a flattish, spongy piece of grass, near a pretty streamlet overhung with begonias and many other flowers, at a spot called Adahan, where a sort of pass winds its way between the granite peaks. We were encamped for several days at an elevation of close on 3,000 feet above the sea-level. Here, when the mist came down upon us, we were enveloped in clouds, rain, and wretchedness; but the air to us was cool and invigorating, though I fear our scantily clad attendants found it anything but agreeable. There were drawbacks, too, to the enjoyment of our mountain camps in the shape of several kinds of pernicious grasses, which grew thickly round our tent, and the seeds of which penetrated relentlessly into everything. Grass thorns invaded our day and night raiment, getting into places hitherto deemed impregnable, and the prickly sensation caused by them was irritating to both body and mind. From Adahan one could easily ascend to the highest ground; though perhaps one ought not to say easily, for climbing is no joke up here, through dense vegetation and rocky gullies. Looking down into the gorges, we enjoyed some splendid effects, and were constantly reminded of the Grand Corral of Madeira. There were many trees and flowering shrubs, rocky needles, and pinnacles all around us, and a view of the ocean to the north; and by climbing up we could catch sight of the ocean to southward too. My husband tried to ascend the highest peak in the island--Driate it is called by the Bedouin--but when he had gone as far as possible the peak soared above him about 400 feet sheer and impracticable, quite bare of vegetation. An Alpine Club would find plenty of amusement in Sokotra. The bottoms and sides of the valleys, filled with bulbous plants and rank vegetation, enormous dragon's-blood-trees, the long valleys of Fereghet and Yehazahaz winding their way to the coast, the rugged mass of Bit Molek, and the view over both seas make, my husband said, as interesting a natural view as it is possible to conceive. The clouds had fortunately rolled themselves up for the occasion. We had, however, during our stay so much wet that we had a special fire to dine by, and by it a very rudely constructed clothes-horse to dry our dripping garments. Our kitchen fire was the constant resort of the Bedouin of the neighbourhood, coming to see us and bring provisions to sell. We had plenty of milk and one day bought a tiny calf for three rupees. The camel-men who skinned it tried to keep the head as their perquisite, but Matthaios secured it and put it in our soup. To our surprise the two Somali servants, Hashi and Mahmoud, would in consequence eat none of the soup nor any meat. They usually ate anything that was going. A lame Bedou brought us some green oranges and potatoes, which were really the roots of a convolvulus: they were not bad when baked in the ashes, but hard when boiled. He also brought us a sweet herb which they use to stuff pillows with. The greetings of the Bedou always amuse us; they first put cheek to cheek and then rub noses in the most matter-of-fact way, so we may infer that this mode of salutation is in vogue in the Mahra country. It was pleasant to be among such friendly people, who had no horror of us and did not even seem much surprised at seeing us there, and to be able to go off quite alone for a scramble so safely. CHAPTER XXXIV BACK TO THE OCEAN After several days at Adahan we climbed down northward. Our journey was only three miles along a very narrow valley, but we made much more of it climbing after plants and shells. We stopped at the first little flat place that would hold our tents, a sort of small shelf more than knee-deep in that awful grass; and though we really enjoyed that camp for two days, pain was our portion all the time. The scenery was magnificent, and all the more striking that the mountains, having cast off their lichen covering, gleamed out in their glowing red. All round us there was such steepness that it was a work of great difficulty to set up my camera anywhere. We had a very steep descent after that over sharp stones to the plain, my husband and I, as usual, when on foot, starting before the others, and though we were sorry when we finally quitted the mountains, we were glad enough to find ourselves on our camels again, to be carried to Suk, where we decided to stay, as we heard that the sultan's boat was there and the sultan himself was not so very far off. We wished to engage the ship for our return to Aden. Before leaving the s.s. _Canara_ my husband had begged the captain to take a letter to Bombay requesting that the B.I.S.N. Co. would send a steamer for us, and let us know about it by some dhow. A dhow had arrived from Bombay with no letter for us, but with news of the plague: so we became afraid that if the plague prevented the steamer from coming and we waited for it, we might have to stick on Sokotra during the whole of the south-west monsoon. My husband therefore began parleying about sailing-boats and had sent Ammar from Adahan, and the sultan had sent his captain up to meet us. Dr. Schweinfurth sees in the present name of Sokotra a Hindoo origin, and the survival of the Hindoo name Diu Sukutura, which the Greeks, after their easy-going fashion, changed into Dioscorides. This is very ingenious and most likely correct. When the Portuguese reached the island in 1538, they found the Arab sheikh dwelling at the capital called Zoko, now in ruins, and still called Suk, a survival doubtless of the original name. The old capital of Zoko is a delicious spot, and the ruins are buried in groves of palm-trees by the side of a large and deep lagoon of fresh water; this lagoon is only separated from the sea by a narrow belt of sand and shingle, and it seems to me highly probable that this was the ancient harbour where the boats in search of the precious products of the island found shelter. The southern coast of Arabia affords many instances of these silted harbours, and the northern coast of Sokotra is similar, many of the lagoons, or _khors_ as they call them, being deep and running over a mile inland. The view at Suk over the wide lagoon fringed with palm groves, on to the jagged heights of Mount Haghier rising immediately behind, is, I think, to be placed amongst the most enchanting pictures I have ever seen. Extensive excavation at Suk might probably bring to light some interesting relics of the earlier inhabitants of this island, but it would have to be deep, as later edifices have been erected here; and labour and tools would have to be brought from elsewhere. The present capital is called Tamarida by Arabs and foreigners, and Hadibo by the natives, and its construction is quite of a modern date; the name is apparently a Latinised form of the Arabic _tamar_, or date fruit, which tree is largely cultivated there. Much is said by old writers about the Greek colonists who came to Sokotra in ancient times, but I cannot help thinking that the Hellenic world never carried its enterprise much in this direction, for, if the Greeks did, they have left no trace whatsoever of their existence there. I should think few places in the world have pursued the even tenor of their way over so many centuries as Sokotra has. Yakut, writing seven hundred years ago, speaks of the Arabs as ruling here; the author of the 'Periplus' more than one thousand years ago tells us the same thing; and now we have a representative of the same country and the same race governing the island still. Sokotra has followed the fortunes of Arabia; throughout, the same political and religious influences which have been at work in Arabia have been felt here. Sokotra, like Arabia, has gone through its several stages of Pagan, Christian, and Mohammedan beliefs. The first time the island came in contact with modern ideas and modern civilisation was when the Portuguese occupied it in 1538, and this was, as we have seen, ephemeral. Then the island fell under the rod of Wahabi persecution at the beginning of this century, as did nearly the whole of Arabia in those days. In 1835 it was for a short time brought under direct British influence, and Indian troops encamped on the plain of Tamarida. It was then uncertain whether Aden or Sokotra would be chosen as a coaling station for India, and Lieutenant Wellsted was sent in the _Palinurus_ to take a survey of it; but doubtless the harbourless condition of the island, and the superior position of Aden in that respect, caused the decision in favour of Aden. The advantages Aden afforded for fortification and for commanding the mouth of the Red Sea influenced the decision, and Sokotra, with its fair mountains and rich fertility, was again allowed to relapse into its pristine state of quiescence, and the British soldier was condemned to sojourn on the barren, burning rocks of Aden, instead of in this island paradise. Finally, in 1876, to prevent the island being acquired by any other nation, the British Government entered into a treaty with the sultan, by which the latter gets 360 dollars a year, and binds himself and his heirs and successors, 'amongst other things, to protect any vessel, foreign or British, with the crew, passengers, and cargo, that may be wrecked on the island of Sokotra and its dependencies,' and it is understood that the island is never to be ceded to a foreign power without British consent. A more peaceful, law-abiding people it would be hard to find elsewhere--such a sharp contrast to the tribes on the South Arabian coast. They seem never to quarrel amongst themselves, as far as we could see, and the few soldiers Sultan Salem possesses have a remarkably easy time of it. Our luggage was invariably left about at night without anyone to protect it, and none of it was stolen, and after our journeys in Southern Arabia the atmosphere of security was exceedingly agreeable. The only thieves were the white and yellow vultures who sat on guard around our kitchen and were always ready to carry off our meat, and made many valiant attempts to do so. Money is scarce in the island, and so are jealousies, and probably the Bedouin of Sokotra will remain in their bucolic innocence to the end of time, if no root of bitterness in the shape of modern civilisation is planted amongst them. It is undoubtedly a providential thing for the Sokotran that his island is harbourless, that his mountains are not auriferous, and that the modern world is not so keen about dragon's-blood, which is still called 'the blood of two brothers,' frankincense and myrrh, as the ancients were. A thing we regretted very much in leaving Sokotra was the delightful peace of travelling without an armed escort, which we had not enjoyed for years; we knew we should soon be travelling again with soldiers in Arabia. There is a wretched hamlet of Somali at Suk, which had been visited by us from Hadibo. We had only one night at Suk, and in the morning my husband and Matthaios went off on foot to Haulah or Haulaf to see the boat. This is where the sultan lives. I believe the boat was actually at Khor Dilisha. They did not think it would have been so far or they would have taken camels. It was a three-mile tramp in the sand. My husband and Matthaios came back from Haulah very hot and tired, not having seen the sultan; he was sleeping or praying all the time, the mode in which Moslems say 'not at home'--in short he was keeping out of the way. They described the boat as everything that was delightful, though people not so well accustomed as we were to voyaging in these ships might not agree with them, but it was impossible to come to terms. They had had a very stormy interview with the sultan's captain, who said that 1,000 rupees was the lowest price. My husband said he had paid no more for the steamer, and we had all had beds provided and food; 800 was his highest price. The sultan has a miserable house in a very uncomfortable spot, surrounded by a few huts belonging to fishermen, who go out on little rafts made of bundles of palm-leaf ribs to drop the traps for fish. [Illustration: THE HAGHIER MOUNTAINS FROM SUK (_From a water-colour sketch by Theodore Bent_)] We then moved to Hadibo again, going along the shore, and encamping quite in a different place to that in which we were at first; we were in a nice date grove by the lagoon and close to the beach. We now commenced a time of dreadful uncertainty as to how or when we could leave the island. Hearing nothing from the sultan, Matthaios was sent on a camel to offer 800 rupees, and returned most indignant, 2,000 being the lowest price asked, _i.e._ 124_l._ Later the captain came, agreed to the 800, and said my husband must pay 400 at sunset to get wood and water. As the men never came for the money till we were in bed, they were sent off till next morning, when they came very early and asked for paper to write the contract. My husband produced some, with pen and ink. They said they could only write with a pencil, but when that was got the captain said 500 must be paid: he did not want it himself, nor yet the sultan, but the sailors did; my husband then said he would complain to the Wali of Aden, and they all suddenly departed, and the captain, we heard, went to Kadhoup, where there was another boat, in order to prevent its owner spoiling the sultan's bargain. Two days after we had a message to say we were to pay the whole 800 rupees at once, that the sultan was coming to fetch it himself, and that we should positively start that day. No sultan came, but next day a very affectionate letter from him said he would come round with the ship at sunset. We had to forgive his non-appearance that time, as there was such a storm that we could not, in any case, have passed the surf. Next day he came by land to the castle, where we had seen him, and sent to ask my husband to bring the money; so he went, attended by myrmidons bearing money-bags, pen, and paper, but as the sultan would not sign the contract, the money was brought back. At midday there was an apology sent with two lambs and a little calf, and at sunset the sultan really arrived at our camp, signed the contract, and carried off the money; so we left next day. We had plenty to do, so were quite occupied all this time. I used to develop photographs, for I had my dark tent set up. I had awful trials to bear. The water was so warm that the gelatine frilled in spite of alum, and what was worse, when I put the negatives in the hyposulphate of soda they ran off their supports like so much hot starch. Some I saved, but I never dared do more than carefully dip them in the 'hypo,' and even then it seemed to froth up at once. I had a good many negatives marked by this, and had to smooth off the bubbles with my hands, regardless of their colour, and I had to work at night for coolness. We had very little milk while there; none till the last two days. A man was drinking a bowlful in our camp, and this is the surprising way in which he did it: he dipped his hand in and sucked his fingers (not clean ones at first), and so continued till he had finished it all up. Our visitors used sometimes suddenly to hurry off to pray, choosing a bit of damp sand, and when they returned some of the sand was sticking to their foreheads. The longer that sand stayed on the better, as it was considered a sign of a religious man. We had an anxious battle with white ants also. A basket was nearly devoured by them, but our best steamer raiment was preserved by the inner lining of American cloth, though they were sitting on it in sheets. We had remarked in South Africa that they never eat mackintosh. The basket was brushed over the sea, steeped in the lagoon, and inundated with boiling water. This was the only thing attacked of all that we had left behind when we were in Hadibo the first time. Our brown ship, 70 feet in length by 15 wide, did really look a very 'mere nutshell' to go 500 miles over the great ocean in, but it was far, far better than some we had been in. From the deck Sokotra looked almost too beautiful to leave. The weather was very rough, the sailors not nearly ready, and it was midday before we started. By this time all the servants were prostrate, and my husband had to get the sailors to help him in setting up our beds, and arranging the baggage in the place between decks astern, which was 3½ feet high, and, as the beds had to be tied to each other, 2 feet apart, as well as to the sides of the ship, we had to bend low and step high when moving about. The two Somali servants managed wonderfully to take it in turns to be well after a bit, but Matthaios was one of the worst, so food was a difficulty and his wrath was great when, Mahmoud having made us tea like ink, he found the tea canister empty. We had rough weather enough, but the wind was favourable. We were always afraid of falling off our seats at meals, for we were perched anywhere, on anything we could get, round our kitchen box as a table. Bruises alone were not the cause of our terror, but the fact is that the sailors were always shaking their raiment and making those searching and successful investigations, accompanied by that unmistakable movement of the elbows and backs of the thumb-nails, which literally 'give one the creeps.' The captain had a compass, but no other instrument of any kind, and none of the sailors seemed to know the way. They showed us islands, which we knew to be such, as the African coast, and Cape Guardafui where we knew it could not be. On the third evening we saw the Asiatic coast, and at sunset we saw the jagged Jebel Shemshan very far away, and of course hoped to see it nearer next day. But when we woke in the morning, my husband went out to see the cause of the unusual rocking of the ship and still more unusual silence, and found everyone asleep and the ship lying to out of sight of any land. The captain said they imagined we had passed Aden in the dark, and thinking they should soon be among rocks or coral-reefs had stopped; a dreadful uproar then arose, and everyone on the ship shouted different directions for steering. My husband desired them to steer north that we might find land, as none of them had any idea of our longitude. At last we saw a steamer, presumably from Aden, and getting north of her and steering west we at length had Africa on our port side again, and reached Aden by the following sunrise, though it took us till two o'clock to get into port. BELED FADHLI AND BELED YAFEI CHAPTER XXXV EXPERIENCES WITH THE YAFEI SULTAN In the same year, 1897, soon after our return thither from Sokotra, we left Aden to explore the Yafei and Fadhli countries. Our preparations for this expedition were made under quite different and much happier circumstances from those which attended our last journey from Aden to the interior of Arabia, _i.e._ the Hadhramout. We received every help that could be given us by General Cuningham, Colonel Hayes-Sadler, Captain Wadeson, and, indeed, everyone from whom we asked assistance was most kind. We took with us only our servant Matthaios, the Greek, Musaben, an elderly man from the Aden troup, as jemadar or manager of the soldiers and go-between generally; and three or four soldiers. No interpreter was necessary, I am glad to say, this time. We left Sheikh Othman on February 28, 1897, for our nine hours' ride to Bir Mighar, sorry to have to make so long a journey the first day. At first we went past pretty gardens and villas, but soon left these traces of civilisation behind us, and the way went through desert, sometimes salty, sometimes sandy, sometimes bare, and sometimes with low bushes, now straight, and at others wending among sand-hills with cliffs to leeward, and ribbed and rippled like water. In some parts every trace of path is smothered by sand, and quicksand also must be warily avoided. We passed the ruins of an old town near Sheikh Othman, and five miles on, Imad, a wretched-looking collection of brushwood huts around a dar, or tower, still in English land. This place is, about Christmas time, the scene of a fair to which all the neighbouring tribes gather, so a good study can be made of the native tongues. A few patches of ground had the sand scraped off into banks, and were awaiting rain to sow some crops for fodder, but looked as if they had been waiting a long time. This caravan road across the Abyan is very old; its monotony is inexpressible, for the nine hours to Bir Mighar. At the sixth hour the road to Hawash goes off to the left. As we approached the well of Mighar the signs of population increased, and a few scrubby acacias grow near. There are two wells a mile apart; the farther, where we encamped, was once protected by a fort, now in ruins. A few years ago a hundred Yafei surprised the Fadhli, and sacked the fort, which has not since been repaired. Many parties of travellers were gathering round this well for the night; one husband and wife who took alternate charge of a baby slung in a straw cradle and a goat; another pair with their household goods, baby, and many fowls on a camel, while they were each laden with more fowls. We passed a cold night, and were very tired; our things, having been packed on board the baggalla in which we came from Sokotra, were not in marching order. We only made a short journey of six miles next day past Al Khabt, which was just the same sort of place as Imad. We had to take a most circuitous route to reach it, and it was hard to realise that all the banks we wound amongst were fields waiting for rain. Hagheri Ask, our next halt, was even a yet more wretched hamlet--about six reed huts, and about as many goats and jackal-like dogs. [Illustration: THE FADHLI COUNTRY SOUTH ARABIA. From a sketch survey by M^r. J. THEODORE BENT. 1897. _Stanford's Geog.^l Estab.^t, London_ London: Smith, Elder & Co.] Our tents were most unsteadily pitched on sand. There is a good well, and there has been a village here 'from the first,' as the Arabs say. There are many traces of antiquity; and numerous pieces of glass, good pottery, and bangles lie about. There are three ruined tombs and some smaller ones of mud bricks, and they make mud bricks there still. The villages of the Abyan are most poverty-stricken places. The first day we had our camels loaded with jowari, and at Bir Mighar we took up fuel. From Hagheri Ask to Kanfar is about six miles, and we spent two hours over it. Trees became more numerous, good large ones, chiefly arrack and acacia, and a few small fan-palms. There were quantities of birds' nests, in every way a contrast to ours; for, instead of warm woolly ones, safe from wind and rain in the innermost recesses of our soft-leaved, easily climbed trees, these were loose open-work airy little baskets, dancing on the outer tips of the thorny branches. The scenery in the desert part was much improved by mirages of beautiful blue lakes and streams, nearly under our feet. Once, on the journey, we thought the piping times of peace had come to an abrupt end. The army of three became a vanguard, one who was riding having very suddenly turned himself into infantry, the guns were taken out of their calico bags and cocked, but the supposed enemy turned out to be only six or eight men carrying great rolls of skins and huge dry gourds for sale, so the rifles were packed up again. Some had Martini-Henrys and one or two of the camel-men had matchlocks. Since leaving the British Empire we had been in the Fadhli country till we reached the Wadi Banna, or Benna, the boundary between the Beled Fadhli and Beled Yafei, then winding indeed was our way, for we were in thick wood; swords and daggers had to be used to cut a path, and we were brought to a standstill more than once, with our heads bent under trees, not daring to lift them. It would be easy for the inhabitants to stop an enemy's attack here. The smell of the arrack is not at all pleasant. Two Fadhli were once directed into the Banna bed by the Yafei of Al Husn, and when they were in the wood they set fire to it and burnt them. The inhabitants do not venture off the path. There are quicksands in some parts of the wadi. [Illustration: CASTLE AT KANFAR] We encamped not far from the town of Kanfar, amongst some large arrack bushes on the sand, and surrounded by mounds scattered over with bits of glass. There has been a succession of towns here, and the present one is situated on large mounds near some somewhat ruinous forts. It would take an immense quantity of digging to come on Himyaritic remains. Many gold coins are found, and set on the jembias; our old Musàben had two on his dagger, about four hundred years old. We were told that Boubakr-bin-Saïd, sultan of the lower Yafei, was to come in two days to keep the feast of a saint, Wali Abdullah-bin-Amr, who is buried here. In the meantime we surveyed our surroundings while awaiting his coming. The ground under the arrack bushes is perforated through and through by rats with bushy tips to their tails, as far as the utmost branch extends. Sometimes we felt our feet sinking, and discovered we were walking over the site of a vanished bush. There is an old ruined castle, with pretty herring-bone patterns and open-work windows. The principal well, a little distance from the town, is very close by the present fortress, where the sultan lives. There is a gunpowder factory of a primitive kind, for there is plenty of saltpetre to be found close by. We went all about the village quite comfortably with a couple of Yafei guards, and the people were civil. We saw curious ovens, like pots with lids, and oxen returning with the dustpans they use for scraping the sand off the cultivable soil, and many preparations for the feast in the way of food and very smart new indigo-dyed clothes. Photography, sketching, and unpacking the gifts for the sultan occupied our time. The mosquitoes were awful. The sultan came to visit us very suddenly on the afternoon of his arrival--a rather handsome, sly-looking man. He wore a purple velvet jacket embroidered with gold, and a many coloured turban and waist-cloth forming a petticoat to his knees and leaving his fat legs bare. His complexion is of a greenish brown. His first question was as to my husband's age, that of the Wali of Aden, and of various other officials. He brought some honey and made himself most agreeable till we spoke of going to Al Kara. He then immediately began to speak of danger. He read the letter of introduction with more discretion than I have observed in any of the Arab sultans I have seen. Instead of reading to a crowd of slaves, he banished all but one very confidential, though dirty man, who was lame and carried a long lance adorned with silver bands, and read this letter and one previously sent. When he left, my husband told him the sooner he sent a message as to the possibilities of going to Al Kara the better it would be for him; and we also told Musàben to tell the Bedouin there would be money for them, and also to mention to the sultan that we had a gun that he might hope for. It appeared, after much fruitless negotiation, that the sultan was determined to cheat the Bedouin. He arrived very soon after breakfast, _i.e._ before seven, and demanded 500 rupees for himself, which he immediately lowered of his own accord to 400 rupees, and gave us to understand danger would be averted if we paid this sum. He carried off 100 rupees for coffee and a bundle of turbans and other garments. No one but Musàben was to know of the money, and the fat parcel he himself stuffed into the clothes of his dirty confidant, explaining to us and them that he should only show an aluminium box as his sole gift, and walked off holding it ostentatiously between his finger and thumb. Later we walked round the castle, and were let into the courtyard. The sultan saw us from a window in his tower, and beckoned us up. We had to go through gateways on all sides of the tower, so that they can quite command the entrance. We went up a high winding stair to a room about 10 feet square, where we sat on the floor and had coffee with cloves and no sugar, and a coarse kind of sweetmeat. His first question was, 'Where is the gun?' I said, 'Where is Al Kara?' So he laughed merrily, and said, 'You shall not go to Al Kara till I have the gun.' So I told him he should not have the gun till we had been. He then told my husband he must pay 1,000 rupees and the gun first, and he would manage the Bedouin; but my husband said he would pay afterwards, and not more than 400 rupees. So this conversation went on, and we left. Musàben was surprised that we had been admitted. We spent our days taking long walks in the cultivated fields, stepping on banks between the canals, or _abrs_. There were many trees, and acres of dukhan grown for making oil, gilgil, and other crops; and the shade, the birds, the greenery, and water made it a pleasant relief from the sandy mounds. The workpeople are slaves of the subordinate race of Hagheri. There are really very few Arabs. Watchmen or scarecrows, with long canes, stand on high platforms scattered about. The old well has very-much-worn stones round its mouth, and had once an extensive building over it. Corn is ground in a mill made from the hollowed trunk of a tree, with a camel going round and round. It was amusing to see the little children with their arms held aloft bound up in leaves to their elbows, to keep their hands nice, as they had been dyed with henna for the festival. Jebel Gabeil is the acropolis of the ancient Kanfar, about 200 feet high and a quarter of a mile long, with a double fort on the top, containing an area of about 100 square yards. The outer wall is built of fine large stones, and the interior has a beautiful foundation, evidently Himyaritic, and commands an extensive view. The tomb of the saint whose feast it was is surrounded with tombs, all in disrepair, but covered with very pretty carved wood. The procession passed our camp both going and coming, and was an interesting sight. Quite early I was begged to come out and see crowds of women and girls, who had come to visit me with their new clothes, some indigo-dyed and some of red ingrain. They wear the same shape as in the Hadhramout, but do not cover their faces. They have a good deal of jewellery, and paint their faces yellow. I did not see any of the fantastic patterns I saw in the Hadhramout on the faces. First came four men with lances, dancing to and fro, then the sultan on a camel, dressed in red and purple and gold, and after him about thirty soldiers. A large white and red flag followed. On his return the sultan stopped and delivered a short address, the bystanders assenting by shouting 'Nahm! Nahm!' The sultan came constantly, always raising his demands. One afternoon he came and said 'Where is the gun?' 'Under that bed; you cannot have it now.' 'I should like to see the cartridges,' said the sultan. 'They are packed up.' My husband then did what might seem rude here but is all the fashion there: he walked out of the tent and went off a little distance with Matthaios and Musàben to have a consultation; and the sultan got up and stood craning his neck and trying to listen, but I chattered and babbled to him to prevent his doing so, and finding he could hear nothing he said in a very cajoling sort of tone: 'Al Kara is such a very nice place! you would like to see it,' and asked me just to let him see the gun and some more clothes, and when my husband returned begged for more money; but he put on an air of great indignation and impatience and said: 'When we say a thing once it is enough,' and when the sultan began again he said 'Bas!' (Enough!) so loud that his majesty hastily departed. Finally, when he could not get what he wanted, and we saw it was not safe to trust ourselves in the hands of so shifty a man, he became so insistent that my husband told him 'he had seen enough of him; he might leave our camp; we would not travel with him.' Off went the sultan in such a hurry that he left his stick behind, and sent us a message that we were not to pass another night in his country. We sent back a message that we would not stir till morning. When the sultan was gone we had tea, and I was talking to a dirty little boy of five called Boubakr and a bigger one called Ali, to whom I was giving lumps of sugar dirtied by the journey. We were laughing well at the sultan, calling him all sorts of names expressing our scorn of his meanness, when to our amusement we found these were his sons. He came himself about dawn next day to say we were to go back over the Wadi Banna, and not the shortest way to the part of the Fadhli country, which is beyond the Yafei, unless we gave him more money. We would not speak to him ourselves, so he had to talk with the servants (who were continuing packing) all the while, and, we let him see the greatest amusement on our part. Musàben was most anxious to go on, but the difficulties delighted Matthaios, as he was so frightened that he wished to go back at any price. When we did go, about six o'clock, we only went a very little way in the prescribed direction, then turned round, and took the path we desired, our army now being a rearguard, rushing up hillocks to watch for pursuers. We reached Al Khaur, a village with many ruined castles, and camped in frightful dust. The Wazir Abdullah bin Abdurrahman had been sent by the Fadhli sultan to welcome us. He proved a very agreeable travelling companion. He is young and refined looking. We saw a great deal of cattle about. There is a sheer rock overhanging the village 1,000 feet above the plain. My husband ascended Jebel Sarrar to see the ruins. A fine paved road, protected by forts, climbs up past a curious square stone said to be full of money, and goes zigzag through a narrow gully like the walls at Zimbabwe. My husband having heard of the stone from the wazir, very much astonished the guides by pointing it out to them and saying 'There is money in that stone.' At the top there is a very strong fortress with many walls, and three cisterns just like the smaller of the tanks at Aden, with steps down into them, all covered with cement. This has been a very strong fortification, protecting and overlooking the whole of the Abyan from Jebel Goddam beyond Shukra to Jebel Shemshan at Aden. The Abyan is the low plain by the sea. The following day we started for Dirgheg. The country is all irrigated by water brought from Masana by a channel called Nazai. At the corner of the Wadi Hassan the _abrs_ branch off in every direction. The sources belong to the Yafei, and the Fadhli pay them annually 25 Maria Theresa dollars, a basket of dates, and a turban for the sultan, but the management is in the hands of seyyids in _inam_ for ever, they being supposed to be neutral, for fear a war might produce a drought. Still, in time of war the water often is cut off. The banks of the abrs were full of castor-oil bushes, cotton, myrtle and tamarisk, all smothered with a pretty creeper covered with yellow flowers and little scarlet gourds. Dirgheg lies just on the left bank of the Wadi Hassan in an almost desert place. There are many dars, or towers, where the wealthy Arabs, of whom there is a considerable population, live. The servile tribe of Hagheri live in reed huts; we saw them threshing gilgil and vetch. There are a market and a few shops. I had no trouble about taking photographs. Once, however, one of our attendants asked a man to move out of my way and gave him a little push. Out he pulled his ghembia, and there was a scrimmage very dangerous to my camera and its appurtenances, as they were going to be used as weapons of defence by our attendants. I rushed into the midst, and they stopped fighting to tell me not to be afraid, and peace was restored. I think it requires some courage to plunge out of the tent into the burning sand with the camera, but it never seems so hot once one is out. We were given over by our soldiers to the charge of two inhabitants of Dirgheg, and were quite elated at hearing on other authority than our own, 'They can speak Arabic.' [Illustration: DIRGHEG] We had on our return to the camp the delightful pleasure of a letter from Sultan Boubakr, making another try for the gun, and saying he would come and take us to Al Husn. The messenger was fetched, and scornfully told by my husband that it was too late; we would not think of travelling with so bad a man. I said, 'You have a great thief for your sultan, and a great liar,' and told him all about the money and clothes he had secretly taken; so, no doubt, he had to disgorge some after all. Musàben laughed very much, and said my imitation of the sultan's manner was so good he must get two sheikhs to hear the Bibi mimic the Yafei sultan. The Yafei messenger was much interested. I told the whole story, and how we had gone round three trees and departed our own way, adding, 'The sultan could see us from his own castle'; and he said, 'Yes, he did.' We told him all his conduct was written down and sent yesterday to the Wali of Aden, so now he might be sorry and frightened. We said we had been treated well by all the other Yafei we had met, but the sultan wanted to cheat both them and us. Indeed, it grieved us to hear the kind Yafei spoken of with horror and detestation by the Fadhli, but no doubt they have a different point of view to ours. We went to another village called Abr Shebba, more under the mountains. We were shown about very civilly, and taken to the door of a large dar, and asked if we wished to go in. We did not know if we were wanted, so made an indefinite answer. There was a difference of opinion, and at last they said the Bibi should go in; so I crossed the court and entered the house, and had hardly done so when my hand was seized, and I was dragged by a man through black darkness upward and round and round. I stepped high, and, as quickly as I could, rushed after him. At the third round I saw a little light shining on the roughest possible shallow earthen steps, and was pulled into a little room, where I was greeted with cries of amazement by some women, and then continued my way unaided to the top of the tower. The parapets were ornamented with gazelle horns. After some time I wanted to go down, but I was on my way taken to a large room where manners demanded I should settle down for coffee. Every one was very kind, and for greater friendliness a naked baby four months old was placed in my hands. When I wished to return it it was made to sit on my knee. It soon kindly cried, and was, to my joy, removed. It had never in its life been completely washed, though several large spots and trimmings had been painted on its head. My husband joined me at last, and had coffee too. The first thing next morning, before our departure to Al Ma'a, another letter came from the Yafei sultan about Al Husn; but the messenger was told that once was enough to see that great thief (_harami_), and he could take the letter back. It was fourteen miles to Al Ma'a, and took us six hours. We passed up the Wadi Hassan, and saw Al Husn in the distance. We did not go quite to the corner where the Wadi Hassan turns east. It is considered too near the Yafei frontier to be safe, and the Fadhli always used a narrow pass called Tarik al Kaha, going round Mount Gherash. It gets narrower and steeper as it goes on zigzagging up slabs of shale, with only room for one camel at a time. There are any amount of ambush places, especially on the north side. The pass goes uphill, west to east, and the steepest end is at the east. A spur runs out west on the north side about 50 feet high, convenient to shoot over. The approaches are quite open. It leads through Wadi Goddam to Wadi Hassan, and at the entrance to Wadi Hassan, Fadhli Bedouin are for ever stationed to watch for Yafei attacks on a tiny jutting hill. Three men of ours, sheikhs who had come to meet us, galloped forward to explain to them who we were, and ascertain that all was safe. They fired a gun over our heads. There were a few baboons about. We saw several little heaps of stones, and were told they marked spots where Fadhli had been shot by Yafei. A very large heap is formed by those who pass the valley safely for good luck. We also passed the tomb of a seyyid with four large smooth stones at the top anointed with oil for the Ed. Before we reached Al Ma'a the river-bed narrowed in from the other side, and along the raised bank at short intervals were watch-towers of the Yafei. At Al Ma'a they are quite close, about half a mile off at most. The country was still very arid and barren, but the mountains very fine. Al Ma'a is a wretched hamlet, which has seen very much better days. There are high ruined castles, destroyed by the present sultan, as Al Ma'a and its head-men were once in revolt. Now there are only three or four Arab houses and a collection of reed huts. The valley is about two miles wide, and there are four or five Yafei towers near. Our escort were very much afraid. They said that the Yafei might shoot us, though a cannon would be necessary, and lay the blame on the Fadhli, so they would by no means let us camp anywhere but in a most disgustingly dusty place next the village; and they kept sharp watch all night, talking much. The towers protect the approach to the Wadi Theba, which here goes up or comes down from Al Kara. The country round is in a perpetual state of ferment, like Germany in the Middle Ages, every one on the look-out for attacks from enemies. CHAPTER XXXVI AMONG THE FADHLI We were up and off before the sun rose, our party being increased by Sultan Salem, brother to the Fadhli sultan. He was twenty, and though not dark in colour, has woolly hair. He and the soldiers and the wazir, Abdullah bin Abdurrahman, rode at some distance to our left, between us and the dangerous Yafei towers. The Goddam or Kadam range, which separates the Wadi Yeramis from the Abyan, is a mass of arid peaks, none reaching to more than 2,000 feet. A road leads from Al Ma'a across the mountains to the sea at Asala. We reached Karyat el Maksuf about ten, the valleys getting narrower and more woody and grassy as we approached. There is an ancient fort on a hill 650 feet above the valley, and about 1,300 above the sea, with a glorious view over the Goddam range to the sea. There is another ruin of a round fort on the left of the valley. We went on a mile to a delightful place, where there were trees, water, and reeds, and beautiful views through shady glades to the mountain peaks, and many cattle. We wished to remain there, but were told it was better to get on to Naab, as there was a little danger. We quite understood that danger was a bogey to prevent us keeping them from a town, and we pointed out that the Yafei were not likely to come down a light-coloured mountainside with only a few tamarisks into a valley half a mile wide; so my husband firmly said we would stay on the clean sand. Here we saw many baboons. The first ruin is probably Persian or later Arabian. The second one, which is a mile further up the Wadi Yeramis than the first, is evidently Himyaritic, and protected the first town after Banna on the way to the Hadhramout. It is circular, crowning a hill 300 feet high, and enclosing a space of 50 yards in diameter. On the north-east side it is protected by five square towers, and has one gate to the south. It was the acropolis of a large town, lying in all directions, but chiefly to the north-east. It has evidently been a place of considerable strength, as the Wadi Yeramis is only half a mile wide here. There is a regular stream of water in a narrow channel, and the whole valley is green and fertile. [Illustration: OLD NA'AB (_By Theodore Bent_)] Before we entered this narrow part of the valley, it was curious to see below the peaked mountains a flat-topped effusion of basalt, called _borum_, advanced forward. We made a very early start next morning, and gradually got into a thick low wood, but where the Wadi Yeramis widened out there were only tamarisks. Our ascent was rapid, and after about an hour we turned due east, this part being very bare-looking, though there were a good many horrid acacias and also euphorbias with rounded trunks. We soon burst upon a lovely plain all mapped out in fields and abrs. It is six miles to Naab, and we took three hours. We passed through full two miles of this fertility, with three or four villages--Souat, Nogat, Arrawa, and Old Naab, with mosque, minar, and a fine old house all tumbling into ruins. Wadi Yeramis is much opened out here, and the lower part is bounded by the basalt in walls about 200 feet high, sometimes with mounds within them again, and hillocks of the same formation as the high mountains. This cultivated paradise is the property of Sultan Ahmet bin Salem, brother to Sultan Saleh of the coast, and may be said to be the pick of his whole dominions. Arrawa, or New Naab, has twenty-four shops, and the sultan gets half a real (or Maria Theresa dollar) on all merchandise-camels going up to the Beled Yafei. There were many bales of merchandise in a sort of Custom-house when we arrived at this great centre of inland traffic. We encamped on the opposite side of the wadi from the town of Arrawa, which is perched on a raised plateau of earth banks. When we halted, and had climbed up, there was a line of people waiting to salute us. We and Sultan Salem walked in front, our eleven men with guns walked behind, singing a _merghazi_, or salutation song, of which I have a copy. We halted again, and they fired ten salutes; then we advanced again, Sultan Salem leading, when twenty of the local sultan's soldiers came forward and kissed his hand and shook ours. Then there was a refreshment of five or six cups of coffee and ginger, very weak, on the floor in a tower. There was milk in the first cups, but it became exhausted. We never saw the sultan all the time we were there, for they said he had a wound in his leg. The earthen cliffs are about 30 feet high, and we had to go a very roundabout way to get up them by very narrow gullies. My husband went up a hill, Yerad, just behind Naab, with an old Arab fort on it above the Yeramis, which ends here; then begins Wadi Reban, with a clear course north-east for three miles, then north, and then a long stretch east again. There was a lovely view over the Yafei mountains on the north and Goddam range on the south. A Bedou, Abdallah, who went with him told him all the names. Though he could understand when the Bedouin talked to him, he could not understand two talking together. Abdallah said he had been a soldier in the sultan's service, but when my husband asked how long he answered, 'Four, five, six years. I have never had it written down.' The Bedou gave my husband some food called _kharou_, roast millet seeds put in a mug with boiled milk, not at all bad. The Sultan Salem bin Saleh's old abandoned castle had some nice decoration about it. They left it because there were so many jinni (_i.e._ ghosts) in it. Our informant had not seen them, but only heard of them. March the 12th my husband went up what he thought was the highest mountain of the Goddam range, Minzoko, just behind Naab, and made it 2,000 feet, but considered when he got to the top that its neighbour Haidenaab was 300 or 400 feet higher. The Tarik Minzoko goes between them. The sultan sent to our camp some bowls of food, soup, and a fowl cut up and cooked in gravy, very rich with oil and onions. It would have been good but for the stuffy, bitter taste of myrrh, which they like so much to put in their food. He also sent us red cakes of millet bread. A poet of Naab made a _merghazi_ on us during our stay, about our treatment by the Yafei sultan: how he had demanded money of us and how he had bidden us return to Aden. This was thought so excellent by everybody that my husband was forced to take a copy of it from dictation and Sultan Salem took a copy back to Shukra. Our party was now increased by another 'prince,' Sultan Haidar, son of the sultan of Naab, a person delightful to contemplate. He was got up in Bedou style; his hair, fluffy and long, was tied back by a fillet and stuck out in a bush behind. He had a curious countenance and very weak eyes. He was wrapped in a couple of large blue cotton cloths with very long fringes, half a yard at least. The cotton is plastered with indigo, even beyond the dye, and when calendered, as the clothes are when new, gleam purple and red. The richer you are the bluer you are, and Sultan Haidar was very blue indeed. The curious thing about these blue people is that, as the prominent parts of the face and body are the darkest, there is an odd inside-out effect. While in Naab we had our usual number of patients, but the one we were most interested in was a woman who had a dreadfully sore foot. The foot was very much swollen, and there was a sore on her instep and ankle in which one could nearly put one's fist. This had never been washed, though it had been going on for some years, and it had a dressing composed of half a pound or so of dates stuffed into it. The poor creature lay on a sort of bedstead or _charpai_ in a tidy little house consisting of one room and lighted only by the door. My husband set off at once half a mile back to camp to fetch the necessary relief and I waited, sitting on a cloak that someone rolled up on the floor, for there was not even a carpet to sit on. I was afraid of various insects, but I could not rudely stand, and I should have had to stand a good time as my husband had a mile to walk. When he returned he syringed the sore with Condy's fluid and I cleaned it with bits of wadding, and the woman with her nails in a way that made me shudder, but she did not seem to hurt herself. Then we put on zinc ointment. She drew her bedding from under her foot so that the water streamed through the bed to the floor, which was earthen and below the level of the door. There was a big puddle, of course, and I feared they would have mud to contend with, but a woman soon came with a basketful of dry sand, and by constantly brushing it up when wet into a palm-leaf dustpan quickly cleaned up all the mess. We went daily to attend to this foot and at last, if not much better, it was improved by becoming thoroughly clean, foot, leg and all, and its poor owner was cheered and looked much brighter herself. We left her all the zinc ointment we had remaining to use first; a milk-tinful of ointment, composed by me from pure lanoline, vaseline, and zinc powder, to go on with, and some grease-proof paper to spread it on, a lot of tabloids of permanganate of potash and directions to pour it from a water vessel, very clean. Before the family would undertake to receive these final instructions we had to wait while some elderly persons were fetched, reputed wiseacres evidently, and it was like teaching a class. The poor things, with such earnest faces, were determined to make very sure they all thoroughly understood what to do. An old man took each thing and handed it to the husband, telling him how to use it, and we all consulted as to the best niches in the roof in which to stow the things safely. They, at least, longed for us to stay, and we felt sorry to go. One feels so helpless face to face with such misery. I do hope she got well. The first day we visited this house a great crowd came after us, but they were turned out with sticks and fastened out in a very ingenious way. Most of the houses are surrounded by a fence of prickly brushwood, in which is an entrance 3 or 4 feet wide. Outside this stands, on its head, with its root in the air, a bush. The root has a rope of twisted palm-leaf attached to it. You enter and pull the rope. The bush stands on its side then and blocks up the entrance; the rope is secured inside to a bar which is fixed across the threshold and no one can pass this strange and thorny gate. The bush is, of course, wider than the gateway. Certainly Arabians are not all that one expect. I never can believe that Mohammedans in general can consider dogs so very unclean, when they have so many about them, and one tribe in the Soudan is called Kilab (dogs). We used to hear also that they all shaved their heads, leaving one lock only for Mohammed to draw them up into Heaven. Instead of this they do all kinds of things to their hair, and the only people I ever saw with one lock were the Yourouks in Asia Minor, and I think it was only a fashion. Some people think that all the rude efforts of aborigines and uncultivated tribes are inspired by truer wisdom than are the results of science and civilisation, and amongst other things, turbans are pointed out to us as an instance of the good sense of people in hot climates, who know how necessary it is to protect their heads from the sun. If so, why do some cover their heads with turbans and some not? and why do those who wear turbans take them off to cool their heads in the sun, and some accidentally leave a bit of head exposed when they put the turban on without ever finding it out? Some never cover the middle of the head at all, but only wind the turban round. My theory, which may be wrong, is that it is really worn for ornament, as a diadem in the original sense of the word, just tied round the head as a mark of dignity. Once or twice, our camp being on the far side of the valley from the town, we managed to give the slip to the spearman who otherwise would have accompanied us, and sneaked up a very narrow little wadi, where we found a good many flowers and enjoyed this very much. Wild beasts live in holes in these hills, and on the extreme top of the mountain my husband ascended, was found a big goat that had been killed in the wadi the night before. A little hairy animal called _ouabri_ was brought to our camp. [Illustration: FADHLI AT SHARIAH, WADI REBAN, WITH CURIOUS SANDAL] When we left Naab we turned into the Wadi Reban to Shariah--three hours and ten minutes, seven geographical miles, four north-east and three north--and ascended 350 feet. Wadi Reban is a quarter of a mile wide near Naab, but after two miles opens out; and there are gardens, and now and again running water appears, and plenty of trees. At the fourth mile, near a fort, we turned sharply to the north, past Jebel Riah, where Wadi Riah comes in, and then reached a wide open space, where Wadi Silib joins in. Jebel Shaas was beyond us, very high, and Wadi Ghiuda to the right. This large open space is girt with mountains 500 to 5,000 feet high, and is a great junction for the waters from Wadis Reban, Silib, and Ghiuda. It was once exceedingly populous; there are here no less than four old villages called Shariah; two considerable towns were perched on the rocks, forming gates to the Wadi Silib, and two others at a great elevation on the opposite side. The cause of the decrease in population in Arabia must be the constant inter-tribal warfare and the gradual filling up of the valleys with sand. Great banks of sand 20 feet high line the river-beds, and wash away with the heavy rains, which contribute to the silting up. This country must have been very fertile to have supported the population, for the four towns must have been large. The stone buildings alone would make any one of the four larger than most towns in Arabia to-day, and there must have been the usual hut population. We had a very pleasant camp among trees, and had a steep scramble to the ruins. An enthusiastic geologist would have enjoyed our next day's journey immensely; we went through such a strange weird volcanic valley--not a wadi, but a sheb, narrower and shallower. The road is called Tarik Sauda. The strata of the rocks are heaved up at a very steep angle, and we had to ride along smooth rocks, sometimes without any trace of a road at all among the stones; sometimes we had to make very great windings amongst heaps and hillocks of all sorts of different-coloured earths. Hardly a green thing was to be seen, and altogether the whole place looked dreary and desolate; but we were much interested in this day's journey among the great scarred and seamed volcanic mountains. We ascended 650 feet--very difficult indeed, travelling about seven miles in four hours; the steepest part is called Akaba Sauda. We reached the headwater of the Wadi Ghiuda at the top of the akaba, 2,000 feet from sea level. Naab is 1,000 feet above sea level; thence to Shariah is 350; and thence to Ghiuda, 650. We passed Dogoter and M'Haider, mere names. We encamped on a waste of stones; no tent-pegs could be used, and it was windy and cold. There are gazelle in this part and we had some for dinner. Now was our time to send by Musaben to the camp of the sultans three very gay blankets for them and Abdullah-bin-Abdurrahman. The long name of the wazir's father had constantly to be on our lips on account of his dignity, for they are like the Russians in that respect--common people's fathers are not mentioned. The name was marvellously shortened to B'd'rahman. We were thought to be in danger that night, and did not make a very early start, as we had to load up water; and we two climbed down 350 feet into the Wadi Ghiuda, that I might take photographs. It was so pretty, with pools of water and creepers hanging on the trees. The sultans, meanwhile, sat up in their beds of leaves wrapped in their blankets. How absurd it seems that two princes and a prime minister should have to sleep out because two English choose to travel in their country! Not a word of thanks did we ever get for those blankets, but they were evidently much appreciated, for their recipients sat on their camels wrapped over head and ears in them in the blazing sun. CHAPTER XXXVII FROM THE PLAIN OF MIS'HAL TO THE SEA We joined the camels on the way, and after two hours of stones ascended the very steep Akaba Beva. The view from the hills above--about 2,500 feet--is splendid, all the Yafei mountains and the Goddam range ending at Haide Naab, and giving place to the higher mountains of Rekab and Ghiuda. We descended, but not much, into the lovely Wadi Hadda, full of trees smothered with a kind of vine with thick glossy indiarubber-like leaves; then we went on straight up Akaba Hadda to the huge plain of Mis'hal, full of villages, but ill-supplied with water. There are only some very bad wells for the cattle, and they have to fetch drinking-water from afar, from Ghenab and Lammas. We engaged a Bedou's camel to keep us supplied, while resting our own. The plain is 2,700 feet above the sea. The sheikh's name is Mohommod-bin-Nasr Nakai; this is the first time we heard this pronunciation of the Prophet's name. He was determined to give us a grand reception. Sheikh Seil had gone forward to announce us from Ghiuda, and he came to meet us on his pony down both akabas--a fearful journey. [Illustration: VILLAGE OF MIS'HAL] We always liked Sheikh Seil very much. He was the sheikh of Dirgheg. His hair and his shaggy chest were not white, but a lovely sky-blue. In that part of the world old people's hair is not dyed red with henna, as it is in other parts of Arabia and Asia Minor and in Persia, so the effect of the indigo can be seen. From a distance we could see the preparations. There was a long line on the sandy plain of between two and three hundred Bedouin, naked save for a blue scarf round their waists, with dagger, powder-horn, &c., stuck in. Some had guns, matchlocks, and some had spears. They mostly had their long hair tied up and sticking out in a fuz behind, as funny a long line of men as ever one saw. We dismounted, nearly a quarter of a mile off, and all our party advanced hand-in-hand, fourteen besides ourselves and Matthaios, we being the only ones who did not know the words in which to chant our response to the welcoming shout. This they interrupted occasionally by the high gurgling sound they are so fond of, constantly coming out of the rank, one or other, and firing a gun and retiring. The blue-bearded Sheikh Seil galloped up and down in front of us, twirling his spear. We stopped 150 yards from them, and after much more firing the spearmen began to parade before us in a serpentine way, two and two, backwards and forwards, zigzag, and round and round the gunners, gradually getting nearer and nearer to us, and dragging the gunners after them, with a red flag, a seyyid, and their sheikh, Mohommod-bin-Nasr, between them. When they got quite close they welcomed us, and we said 'Peace' to them. They passed us so many times that we could see and notice them well. Some were very tall; one who was very lame led his tiny little boy. The lancers danced very prettily, having a man a little way in front of them executing wild capers and throwing up his spear and catching it, singing all the while songs of welcome. We could not understand more than some allusions, which assured us they were composed for the occasion. After many gyrations they retired to their former place, and then a herald came forward and made a solemn address of welcome. Then our turn came, and we sent forth a line of men with Sultan Haidar in it to sing and let off guns. When the two lines met they shook hands and kissed, the sultans and seyyids being kissed on the forehead and the upper part of the leg. When they returned to us all our party joined hands to go to our camp, now ready, a good distance off, all keeping step in a kind of stilted, prancing way, singing. The spearmen in front danced with all manner of light and graceful antics, and we were nearly stifled with the dust; and the din was so appalling that we arrived quite dazed at our tents after this welcome, which had lasted fully an hour. We were the first white people who had been at Mis'hal. I tore my camera from its case to take a photograph before the people left us, and it did better than I could have expected in such a crowd, with no sun and so much whirling dust. The town consists of a low square dar and a collection of brushwood arbours, so slight that there is no pretension of concealing anything that goes on inside. We were very thankful for a large pot of coffee and ginger, sent by a sultan, and a fat lamb. The princes ventured to leave us in charge of Abdullah-bin-Abdurrahman, and abode in the tower. Sultan Haidar went home from here. The tableland of Mis'hal is approached by three akabas: (1) Sauda, to 2,000 feet; (2) Beva, to 2,500 feet; (3) Hadda, to 2,750 feet. The Nakai tribe live here, and are on friendly terms with their neighbours the Fadhli--a sufficiently rare circumstance in this country. The Nakai chief can put four hundred men in the field to help the Fadhli. The Markashi were at war with them; they live in the Goddam range, and had been giving the sultan trouble lately. The road to Shukra most frequented is the Tarik el Arkob; eastward goes the road to the Hadhramout, over the plain. Northward is the mountainous country of the Aòdeli tribe, where they told us 'it is sometimes so cold that the rain is hard and quite white, and the water like stone.' The plain is ten or fifteen miles long, by about four or five miles at its broadest. If irrigated it would yield enormously. The well is of great depth, but the water very bad. My husband ascended a mountain about 3,000 feet high, but only 400 feet above the plain, with a most remarkable view of the Aòdeli mountains, about twenty miles away, towering up to a great height--far higher than the Yafei range, which Mr. Tate gives as 7,000 feet: these are probably 10,000 feet. The range must run for thirty or forty miles from east to west, with few breaks and no peaks. We were not well the last day at Mis'hal. The Aòdeli women paint red lines under their eyes and down their noses and round their foreheads with a kind of earth-dye which they call _hisn_. Sometimes there is a round spot on the forehead and red triangles on the cheeks. One woman had her face literally dyed scarlet all over. She had a heavy necklace of beads and carried the sheep-skin coat, that she could not wear in the hot plain, rolled up and laid on her head. It is curious how dissatisfied dark people seem to be with the colour of their skins, so often trying to lighten it; the fairness of the English is in some places attributed to the soap they use. We took advantage of the curiosity of the Aòdeli, who had just arrived with a _kafila_, to make them stay in our camp and question them. The El Khaur mountains look most fascinating to see only from a distance: they are inhabited by lawless tribes owing allegiance to no man, and, having no wholesome fear of the Wali of Aden before their eyes, would murder any traveller who ventured among them; they are all Bedouin. The Aòdeli are a very large tribe, and say they have 4,000 men for war; the Markashi can put 500 or 600 in the field; and the Fadhli 2,000. Lauda, the chief town of the Aòdeli, is much bigger than Shibahm; there are many Arabs. The sultan is Mohamed-bin-Saleh. It is six hours from Mis'hal--thirty-four miles--and is situated below the mountains. Above it is El Betha--Sultan Saleh. Belad el Megheba, in the upper Yafei country, is under Sultan Hakam Mohamed-bin-Ali. Sabad el Baida Resass (where there must be lead) is not under the Turks; El Aòdeli live there. Neither is Sahib Lauda under the Turks; the inhabitants are Augheri. This has a very soft guttural--the Arabic _ghin_. [Illustration: PLAIN OF MIS'HAL AND AÒDELI TRIBE] Our next stage was Bir Lammas, about four miles off, mostly across the monotonous plain. We passed four dars and villages. In time of war the Fadhli sultan comes and occupies one of these dars. We met sheikhs walking with little battle-axes on long poles--weapons in war, and in peace used for chopping wood, at all times emblems of their rank. The plain at length broke away, and we got into the narrow, and not very deep, wooded Wadi el Mimin. It has very precipitous sides of basalt, brown in colour, and making a very untidy attempt at being columnar. Bir Lammas is a great, and I must add, very dirty, halting-place for caravans going to Shukra, on the Tarik el Arkob, to El Kaur and the Wadi Hadhramout. We were two nights at Bir Lammas. I was too ill to go about at all, but I could not resist going out to see some baboons which came to look at us from the low cliffs. I am sure their leader must have been 4 feet long without his tail. My husband, who went for a climb, came to pretty close quarters with a striped hyena. We were encamped about 380 yards off from the well, and thought it a very pretty place, with acacia-trees and creepers hanging in long trails and making arbours of all of them. The women do all the work here, having to fetch water from Bir Lammas and Ghenab for Mis'hal. The children, up to fourteen years of age, tend the flocks, and the men stroll about or sit in very warlike-looking conclaves, with guns and spears. Young children have wooden jembias to accustom them to their use, and it is funny to see tiny urchins of three or four hurling reeds at each other in imitation of their elders with more deadly weapons. The Bedouin seem born in an element of war; one we heard of had lasted fifteen years, but was happily now stopped for a little while. On a hill near the plain, about half a mile from Bir Lammas, there are ruins of good style, probably of the Ashabir period of Hamdani. We were to ride five hours to the next water after Bir Lammas. I felt it would be an awful journey, as I was becoming more and more inert, but I was able to jump on to my camel as usual. I begged my husband to tell me as each hour passed, being quite determined never to ask too soon, but every time I did ask it turned out to be only twenty minutes from the last time. We were soon out of Wadi Lammas, and went over stony plains with basalt scattered over them, and no possible place to encamp, which I was keenly on the look-out for. We went through a curious little pass, not high, but a very narrow cutting just wide enough for us to ride through, for 300 yards, and then we had to wind down steeply at the other side over rocks. I began to feel that I had no control over my legs and I hardly cared to change my position for going up or down hill, and once when my camel slipped down about 5 feet, I started to fall off headlong, but a Bedou caught me by my leg and held me on. If I had fallen, as the path was very narrow, the camel would surely have stepped on me. I should certainly have cracked my skull first. Camels are not like horses--they do not object to stepping on people. A late sultan of Shukra fell from his camel and was trampled on, and 'though the Koran was read to him, and _herris_ or talismans were put on him, his breath would not stay in him, but came out in half an hour.' _Herrises_ are put on camels to make them strong; my husband's camel had one, of which its master was very proud. At last we came to the Wadi Samluf, and I begged that we might stop and have a camel fetched for water. I had to be dragged from my camel, and laid in the cinder-like sand till the tent was pitched, for, as my malarial fever was constant, and I had no tertian intervals, I lost my strength completely. Both my husband and I, and several others were very ill, and we were not strong enough to get at our medicine chest. The water was very bad. The Sultan Salem and other grandees camped at the more dangerous open mouth of the valley. The place where we pitched the tents was very pretty. There were trees and very fantastic peaky rocks against the sky, and a great step about 3 feet high, which had once been a wave of basalt, black on the yellow sand. The camel-men used to spread their beds and light their fire on this sort of stage by night, but they spent the day under the trees. The last night we were in the Wadi Samluf there was a great noise--guns firing, parties going out to reconnoitre, and shouting--but it turned out that the new-comers who arrived at such an unseasonable hour were sent by the sultan of Shukra to welcome and escort us. From this spot I had to be carried to the sea, seventeen miles, on my bed, which was strengthened with tent-pegs and slung on tent-poles. From the little sultan downwards there was not one who did not help most kindly. We went down gently 3,000 feet. I cannot describe this journey, except that it was so very winding that I seemed to see the camels meeting and passing me often. Fortunately the crossing of the low hot Abyan was short. I dreaded the journey, as I thought my bearers would not keep step, but they did wonderfully well, though of course they had no path to walk in, for two men and the bed were far too wide for any path there was. I saw one man double up his legs and go over a boulder 3 feet or 4 feet high; and they kept me very even too, and only dropped my head once; the bearers changed as smoothly as if they were accustomed to it, and were always saying something kind to me. I was not pleased at first at being carried off very suddenly head first, but it was certainly sweeter not having all those men in front of me, and I rejoiced in a delicious sea-wind, which blew stronger and stronger, and just seemed to keep me alive. I was very grateful to them, and took good care never to ask if we had still far to go. How glad I was to find myself in a rushing, roaring, rabble rout of men, women, and children tearing along beside me!--not a thing I generally like, but now it told me of the end of my weary journey. I was deposited on my bed in a tower, tent-pegs and poles removed, and left with a spearman on the doorstep to keep off intruders. The rest of our miserable fever-stricken party came in half an hour later. The sultan of the Fadhli came to our tent to see us--a pleasant-faced mustard-coloured man; and also his wife, the daughter of an Aden sheikh, a very handsome woman. They were very kind in sending milk, watermelons, and any little luxury they could. The sultan lived in a fine brown building with a stunted tower, a glorified Arab house, but nothing like those in the Hadhramout. They send sharks' fins to China from here, as well as from Sokotra and the Somali coast. This is probably Ptolemy's Agmanisphe Kome. It is just the right distance from Arabia-Emporium, _i.e._ one day; so we found it. There was the greatest difficulty in getting a boat, for none of the ships wished to go to Aden, for fear of quarantine, as they would be supposed to be coming from the plague-stricken Bombay. My husband promised 100 rupees for every day, and the sultan compelled a captain whose baggala was loaded for Mokalla to take us to Aden, by refusing to give him his papers otherwise. Our last moments at Shukra were spent lying on the sand with our heads on a bag, and sheltered by a little bit of sacking on three sticks. The sultan sat over us on a high chair, saying very polite things. We were lifted on board our ship at three o'clock, and from the ship admired Shukra, which looked very picturesque in the evening haze, with its towers, its few trees, and its many-peaked Goddam mountains behind. We reached Aden at three next afternoon. This is all I can write about this journey. It would have been better told, but that I only am left to tell it. APPENDICES I _LIST OF PLANTS FROM DHOFAR MOUNTAINS, SOUTH-EAST ARABIA, COMMUNICATED BY J. THEODORE BENT, ESQ., TO KEW GARDENS, MAY 1895._ 209. Farsetia near longisiliqua, Dene. 12. Farsetia? (too young) 193. Diplotaxis Harra, Boiss. Dipterygium glaucum, Dene. var. 163. Ochradenus baccatus, Delile 195. Capparideæ 132. Ionidium, n. sp. 186. Polygala near hohenackeriana, F.& M. 114. Polygala near javana, DC. 201. Tammarix mannifera, Ehrenb. 5. Frankenia pulverulenta, L. 155. Cleome brachycarpa, Vahl 1. Cleome quinquenervia, DC. 65. Gynandropsis pentaphylla, DC. 60. Capparis spinosa, L. 201. Cadaba (incomplete) 136. Cadaba longifolia, R.Br. 208. Polycarpea spicata, W. & A. 156. Gypsophila montana, Balf. fil. 173. Gossypium Stocksii, Mast. 82. Pavonia Pavonia near glechomoefolia, Ehrenb. 39. Abutilon graveolens, W. & A. 61, 225. Abutilon indicum, Don. 232. Abutilon near indicum, Don. 127, 135. Abutilon fructicosum, G. & P. 212. Sida humilis, Willd. 151. Hibiscus vitifolius, L. 102. Hibiscus micranthus, L. 142. Hibiscus Trionum, L. 66. Senra incana, Cav. wild cotton 46. Malvaceæ, cfr. Senra 206. Cochorus antichorus, Raesch Cochorus trilocularis, L. 80. Grewia asiatica, L. 181. Grewia populifolia, Vahl 54. Boswellia Carteri, Birdwood 118. Acridocarpus orientalis, A. Juss. 194. Dodonæa viscosa, L. 92. Vitis quadrangularis, Willd. 137. Balsamodendron Opobalsamum, Kunth 93. Indeterminable 128. Moringa aptera, Gaertn. 3, 79. Zizyphus Spina-Christi, Lam. 185. Celastrus senegalensis, Lam. 30, 199. Ruta tuberculata, Forsk. 116. Tribulus alatus, Delile 4. Tribulus terrestris, L. Zygophyllum album, L. 17. Fagonia arabica, L. Fagonia Luntii, Baker 68. Fagonia, n. sp. near Luntii and latifolia 157. Acacia Senegal, Willd. 205. Acacia verugera, Schweinf. 69. Cassia, n. sp., near C. holosericea, Fres. 22. Indigofera? (incomplete) 16. Indigofera arabica, J. & S. 36. Indigofera paucifolia, Delile 9, 103. Indigofera argentea, L. 226. Psoralea corylifolia, L. 213. Argyrolobium roseum, J. & S. 170. Rhynchosia minima, DC. 74. Sesbania punctata, Pers. 13, 84. Tephrosia purpurea, Pers. (Muscat) 47. Papilionaceæ, not determinable 146. Oldenlandia Schimperi, T. And. 122. Anogeissus 143. Woodfordia floribunda, Salisb. 48. Pimpinella Tragium, Vill. 182? Cephalandra indica, Naud. 200. Cucurbitaceæ (flowers racemosa, male) 11. Cucumis prophetarum, L. (Muscat) 222. Mollugo hirta, Thunb. (M. Glinus, A. Rich.) 15, 175. Trianthema near T. pentandra, L. 158, 223. Eclipta erecta, L. 25, 232, 220. Vernonia cinerea, Less. 51, 3. Vernonia atriplicifolia, J. & S. 196. Conyza stricta, Willd. 37, 9. ex parte Blumea Jacquemonti, Clarke 9. ex parte Pluchea 7. ex parte Pluchea 190. Gnaphalium luteo-album, L. 40. Microrhynchus nudicaulis, Less. 228. Pulicaria arabica, Cass. 171. Pulicaria leucophylla, Baker 81. Pulicaria sp. 192. Carthamus (Kentrophyllum) 188. Echinops spinosus, L. 35. Centaurea near Calictrapa, L. 221. Lactuca (Ixeris) 235. Lactuca orientalis, Boiss. 233. Lactuca cretica, Desf.? 160, 234, 109. Lactuca? (too incomplete) 149. Solanum nigrum, L. 23. Solanum melongena, L. 6. Solanum xanthocarpum jacquinii, Dunal 73, 150. Withania somnifera, Dunal (Muscat) 16. Hyoscyamus muticus, L.? (Muscat) 140. Dæmia extensa, R.Br. 71. Dæmia cordata, R.Br. 230. Pentatropsis cynanchoides, R.Br. 154. Adenium obesum, R. & S. 104. Azima tetracantha, Lam. 141. Salvadora persica, L. 162. Plumbago zeylanica, Linn. 97. Vogelia indica, Gibs. (V. arabica, Boiss.) 199. Anagallis latifolia, L. 106. Jasminum officinale, L. 13. Statice axillaris, Forsk. 115. Trichodesma 168. Hyoscyamus n. sp. 15. Arnebia hispidissima, Forsk. 126. Cordia Rothii, R. & S. 1. Heliotropium undulatum, Vahl 86. Heliotropium ovalifolium, Forsk. 12. Heliotropium drepanophyllum, Baker 121. Heliotropium zeylanicum, Lam. 21. Lithospermum callosum, Vahl 125. Ipomæa blepharosepala, Hochst. 214. Ipomæa (indeterminable) 112. Ipomæa purpurea, Lam. 227. Ipomæa hederacea, Jacq. 144. Ipomæa obscura, Ker. 119. Ipomæa palmata, Forsk. 61. Ipomæa biloba, Forsk. (Pescapræ) Ipomæa Batatas, Lam. 229. Ipomæa near Lindleyi, Choisy 147, 148. Ipomæa (Capitatæ) sp. 63. Convolvulus arvensis, L. 55. Convolvulus (Rectæ) 64. Cressa cretica, Linn. 113. Hypoestes verticillaris, R.Br. 83. Ruellia? 107. Ruellia patula, Jacq. 50, 184. Ruellia spp. 110. Acanthus sp. 87. Barleria acanthoides, Vahl 96. Barleria Hochstetteri, nus 95, 174. Barleria spp. 166. Neuracanthus? 100. Neuracanthus? 108. Ruttya (Haplanthera speciosa Hochst.) 224. Justicia debilis, Vahl 91. Justicia simplex, D. Don. 145. Justicia sp. 14; 72. Lippia nodiflora, Rich. 187. Striga. 11. Striga orobanchoides, Benth. 237. Striga hirsuta, Benth. 167. Scrophularia? 2. Linaria macilenta, Dene. 76, 85. Lindenbergia fruticosa, Benth. 78. Orobanche cernua, Loefl. 183. Lantana salviæfolia, Jacq. 111. Lindenbergia? (incomplete) 238. Herpestis Monnieria, H. B. K. 164. Lavandula setifera, T. And. Coleus aromaticus, Benth.? 152. Orthosiphon near Kirkii, Baker 79. Orthosiphon tenuiflorus, Benth. 191. Ocimum menthæfolium, Hochst. 198. Teucrium (Stachyobotrys)? 169. Teucrium (Pohlium) 10, 27. Digera arvensis, Forsk. 177, 178. Celosia trigyna, L. 34. Achyranthes aspera, L. 98. Pupalia lappacea, Moquin 5. Boerhaavia ascendens, Willd. 14. Boerhaavia elegans, Choisy 24. Boerhaavia plumbaginea, Cav. 89. Boerhaavia (leaves only) 4. Cometes abyssinica, R.Br. 67. Euphorbia n. sp. (cultivated at Kew from Hadhramout) 236. Euphorbia cuneata, Vahl? 42. Euphorbia cactus, Ehrenb. 197. Euphorbia adenenis, Deflers 129. Euphorbia sp. 2, 53. Euphorbia indica, Lam. 37. Aristolochia bracteata, Retz. 88. Forskohlea tenacissima, L. 4. Ficus salicifolia, Vahl 51, 70, 130. Chenopodium murale, L. 38. Amarantus Blitum, L. 161. Polygonum glabrum, Willd. 4. Suæda baccata, Forsk.? 20, 215. Suæda fruticosa, Forsk. 44. Salsola verrucosa, M. B. 61. Halocnemum fruticosum, Moquin Cornulaca monacantha, Delile 101. Chrozophora obliqua, Vahl 139. Dalechampia scandens, L. 57, 131. Acalypha indica, L. 231. Croton near C. sarcocarpus, Balf. fil. 90. Euphorbia arabica, H. & S. 120. Jatropha spinosa, Vahl Jatropha villosa, Mull. Arg. Jatropha lobata, Mull. Arg. 165. Phyllanthus sp. 9. Phyllanthus sp. (Muscat) 172. Phyllanthus, sp. rotundifolius, Linn. 81. Phyllanthus (Muscat) 180, 105, 133. Phyllanthus 159, 210. Ceratopteris thalictroides, Brong. 75. Cheilanthes farinosa, Kaulf. 59. Adiantum caudatum, Linn. 59. Nephrodium odoratum, Baker 56. Pteris longifolia, Linn. 218. Chara hispida, Linn. 71, 123. ex parte Commelyna Forskalie, Vahl 123. ex parte Commelyna albescens, Hassk. 203. ex parte Scirpus littoralis, Schrad 203. ex parte Juncellus laevigatus, C. B. Clarke 138. Eleocharis capitata, R.Br. 41, 134. Cyperus rotundus, Linn. 28. Cyperus conglomeratus, Rottb. 189. Asparagus racemosus, Willd. 217. Naias minor, All. 219. Naias major, All. 153. ex parte Pancratium tortuosum, Herb. 153. ex parte Hæmanthus arabicus, Roem.? 94. Typha angustifolia, Linn. 31. Juncus maritimus, Linn. 216. Potamogeton pectinatus, Linn. 211. Potamogeton natans, Linn. Panicum Crus-galli, Linn. 176. Cynodon Dactylon, L. 204. Phragmites communis, Trin. 52. Latipes senegalensis, Kunth. 49. Aristida caloptila, Boiss. 45. Pennisetum cenchroides, Pers. 32, 202. Sporobolus spicatus, Vahl 29. Eleusine ægyptiaca, Pers. 26. Panicum geminatum, Forsk. 18. Æluropus litoralis, Parl. var. repens. 32. Heleochloa dura, Pers. 43. Apluda aristata, Linn. II _A LIST OF THE LAND AND FRESHWATER SHELLS COLLECTED IN SOKOTRA BY MR. AND MRS. THEODORE BENT_ By Edgar A. Smith, F.Z.S., Assistant Keeper of Zoology, British Museum. Previous to the researches of Mr. and Mrs. Bent, only forty-eight land and freshwater molluscs had been recorded from Sokotra. In addition to twenty-three of these species, they were fortunate in obtaining eleven new forms, some of them very remarkable. These have been described and figured by the writer in the 'Journal of Malacology,' vol. vi. pp. 33-38, plate v., figs. 1-9. and in the 'Bulletin of the Liverpool Museum,' vol. ii. No. 1, p. 12. The British Museum is much indebted to Mrs. Bent for the donation of this valuable collection. A. Terrestrial Species 1. Buliminus Passamaianus 2. Buliminus Balfouri 3. Buliminus mirabilis, n. sp. 4. Buliminus Bentii, n. sp. 5. Buliminus rotundus, n. sp. 6. Buliminus socotorensis 7. Buliminus semicastaneus 8. Buliminus Balfouri 9. Buliminus hadibuensis 10. Buliminus fragilis 11. Buliminus fusiformis 12. Buliminus acutus, n. sp. 13. Buliminus innocens, n. sp. 13_a._ Buliminus Theodoræ, n. sp. 14. Stenogyra socotrana 15. Stenogyra enodis 16. Stenogyra insculpta, n. sp. 17. Stenogyra decipiens, n. sp. 18. Stenogyra Jessica 19. Stenogyra adonensis 20. Ennea cylindracea, n. sp. 21. Succinea sp. 22. Otopoma Balfouri 23. Otopoma complanatum 24. Otopoma clathratulum 25. Otopoma conicum 26. Tropidophora socotrana 27. Lithidion marmorosum 28. Lithidion Bentii, n. sp. 29. Cyclotopsis radiolata 30. Auricula socotrensis, n. sp. B. Freshwater Species 31. Melania tuberculata 32. Planorbis sp. 33. Planorbis sp. III We bought in Aden a fragment of alabasteroid limestone, said to have come from the Hadhramout. It is broken on all sides. It is part of a perpendicular series of sunken square fields, on each of which is represented in flat relief a sitting or lying goat or chamois with enormous horns. My fragment has two complete goats and parts of another above as well as below. The goats look to the right, and there are some cuttings which may have been part of an inscription on the surface of the stone to the right of the column of goats. The squares are 4 inches high by 3½ inches wide--10 centimetres by about 9. [Illustration: FRAGMENT OF ALABASTEROID LIMESTONE] That these goats must have some significance is clear from their likeness to the following objects in the Hof Museum at Vienna, and figured in 'Süd Arabische Alterthümer,' by Prof. Dr. D. H. Müller. The first is the lower part of a slab, complete on three sides with a plain surface down the middle, and columns of goats in squares just like that described above, on either side, the goat facing inwards. In neither of these cases can one know how many goats were originally represented. The second is an architectural fragment composed of alabasteroid limestone (yellowish in colour), 0.120 centimetres high, 0.202 long, 0.15 thick (so far as it remains). [Illustration:] It represents seven chamois (or goats) lying in a row. The heads are coarsely formed, the eyes like knobs, and the bodies of the two animals which are outside are indicated in profile. The original use of the object is uncertain, but, in any case, it must have been a topmost ornament, for the under-side, though regularly smoothed, is not polished like the other surfaces, and therefore cannot have been meant to be seen. The trough which we brought from Al Gran is of the same stone as the former objects. It is 2 feet long by 11 inches wide and 4 inches high. It has an inscription containing a dedication to the God Sayan or Seiyin running all round it and finishing on one side of the top. In the top there is a depression sloping towards a spout, which is now broken off all but an inch. The depth of the depression is from one quarter to half an inch, and the channel in the spout runs down to three-quarters of an inch. Prof. Dr. D. H. Müller has kindly translated this inscription, which appears to represent it as an altar. He thinks it must be for frankincense, but I think it must have been for some liquid. The inscription on the end opposite the spout is worn by marks of ropes being dragged against it. [Illustration: Sabæan Antiquities 1. The Seal of Yarsahal (front view). 2. Copper Seal with Sabota on it. 3. A Pottery Stamp (back view). 4. An Alabaster Lamp. 5. Alabaster Mace Head (?) 6. A Pottery Stamp (front view). 7. The Seal of Yarsahal (side view). 8. An Alabaster Lamp (bottom). 9. Fragment of a Himyaritic Inscription. ] We bought an object of fine alabaster in Aden. It was said to come from the Hadhramout. It seems like a seal or stamp and has a hollow round the back, with spouts in either of the short sides. It had been used as a lamp when we obtained it. There is a kind of handle or tube pierced through to the front, probably for suspension. In the same illustration are also part of an earthenware stamp and the seal of _Yarsahal, the younger of Shibahm_, with its golden setting, and a copper seal with _Sabota_ on it. IV [Illustration: Letters Distinguishable of an almost obliterated inscription near Haidi village, near Kalenzia, Sokotra, copied by Theodore Bent] [Illustration: Crosses at _Dihaiterere_ on the hill Ditrerre, a spur of Hamar, Sokotra. A perfect mass of crosses, the various shapes of which, on the rocks, were copied by Theodore Bent] [Illustration: Shape of a piece of wood from bone cave at Minèsha, Ras Momi, Sokotra] [Illustration: Sokotra camel marks, collected by Theodore Bent, 1897] V _SOKOTERI AND MAURI WORDS COLLECTED BY THEODORE BENT IN THE ISLAND OF SOKOTRA, HE ASKING THE QUESTIONS IN ARABIC_ _The transliteration of the second, fourth, and fifth columns is according to the system of the Royal Geographical Society._ -----------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------------ |Dialect used in | | | | South Arabia | | | English | but not in all | Literary | Mahri | Sokoteri | instances | Arabic | | | confined to it | | | -----------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------------ Fort |[H.]isn |[H.]isn |Hazn |Husn Spring - |'Ain |'Ain |Mayou |Neshodehin fountain | | | | Pickaxe |Kismah | -- |Kasm |Esher Friend |[H.]ab[=i]b |[H.]ab[=i]b |Mahabba sidi |Mahabba habiba Moon |Kamar, Bedr |Qamar, Badr |Kubkob, Warra |Kubkob, Ehri Funeral |Ghin[=a]zah |Gan[=a]zah |Ghinozet |Ghineza Game (prey)|[S:]aid |[S.]aid |Nehàmel melbetzà|Tahari Give me |A[t:]ini |'A[t:]ini |Zemi |Endakhemu Glass |Kiz[=a]z |Qaz[=a]z |Logut |Arashi Glorious |Gal[=i]l |Gal[=i]l |Anno |Lubak Hair |Sha'r |Sha'r |Shuf |Thlef Half |Ni[s.]f or Nus |Ni[s.]f |Nuss |Nuss Where |Fein |Fein |Fein |Fein What |Eish or Ei |Esh |Heshendi |Inimdi No matter |Mal'eish | -- |Laktlela |Bithiokhthi Thank you |Katter[kh=]airak|Ka[th=]ar[kh=]airak|Katerkhairak |Tarmunkete Stand here |Stanni hinna | -- |Sarbuhun |Takozha'a Straight |Dogri |Du[gh=]r[=i] |Hebkalazerom |Torrnà | | | (or Hepka) | Blessed |Umb[=a]rrak |Mub[=a]rak |Umbarrak |Umbarak | _or_ | | | |Mub[=a]rrak | | | Stop |Wakkaf |Waqqaf |Solop |Tzullebaha Hammer |Sh[=a]koush, | -- |Efeie |Taferra | Hafir | | | Hang |Shanak |Shanaq |Azab |Khlanak Hand |Yad |Yad |Hed |Ed Anchorage |Mérsa |Mars[=a] |Moïsi |Moïsi Headache |Wagà er ras |Waga'-ar-r[=a]s |Abkos erayhe |Ellak ade Often |Ketiran-Tamèlli |Ka[th=][=i]ran |Yehoda mekin |Denafakin Oil |Zeit |Zait |Shigar |Shigar Onion |Ba[s.]al | -- |Bosalet |Basahal Water |Moya |Miy[=a]h |Hamou |Diho Riho Mountain |Ghebel |Gabal |Ghebel |Fèdehan Milk |Leben |Laban |Khlof |Khlof Stone |[H.]agar |[H.]agar |Hoben |Oben Bread |Khubs |Khubz |Khobs |Eshere Date |Nakhl |Na[kh=]l |Nakelet |Tamari Man |Ragul |Rajal |Reigh |Eik True |Shagara |[Sh=]ajar |Shighered |Sherehom Far |Baïd |Ba'[=i]d |Dahak |Sherehek Near |Gar[=i]b |Qar[=i]b |Garib |Sheiki Well |Bir |Bir |Bir |Abahur Sheep |Ghanem |Ghanam |Kheoz |Oz Horse |Khail |Khail |Ferehe |Khail Camel |Gemel |Gamal |Berr[15] |Berr Sea |Bahar |Ba[h.]r |Dorum |Denhem Sand |Raml |Raml |Battar |Shimeh Garment |Toub | -- |Beraka |Farak berekà Move |Shihl | -- |Shilleil |Tizàminha Before |Kabl |Qabl |Ksobba |Goddam shei Name |Ism |Ism |Hemukom[=o]n |Mormùkshom Bed |Ferash |Fir[=a]sh |Juderi |Gudere Sun rises |Sherug esh shems|Shar[=u]g-ush- |Skerkot Nayoum |Sherkot Nashom | | shams | | Light |Kaf[=i]f |[Kh=]afif |Dernekfif |Manghena Gold |Dahàb |Tahab |Deheb |Deheb Iron |[H.]ad[=i]d |[H.]ad[=i]d |Hadid |Hadìd Silver |Fadda |Fa[d.][d.]a[d.] |Derehem |Derahin Cloth |Kamash |Qum[=a]sh |Dizhid |Shöd'hem Cloud |Sahal |Sa[h.][=a]bah? |Afoùr |Hehour Judge |Kadi |Q[=a]d[=i] |Kadi |Kaldi Take |Emsak or Emsik |Ims[=a]k |Elkof |Telö Satan |Shai[t:][=a]n |Shai[t:]an |Shaitan |Markush Difficult |Sabi |Sabi' |Sabi |Marhere Evening |Asher |'Ash[=a] |Izhhè |Teloimö meal | | | | Midday |Dohr |[Dh=]uhr |Tohr |Vohr Place |Makan |Mak[=a]m |Mèkon |D'half Face |Wagh |Wajh |Weggi |Fenè Faith |Din |D[=i]n |D[=i]n |Izal[=i]hen Family |Ahl |Ahl |Oher |Dehihkag'-haiho Fat |Semen |Samn |Mahar |Hammi Feast |Eid |'[=I]d |Eid |Ayed Fever |Humma |[H.]umm[=a] |Dighilo |Ghiohör Little |Khalìl |[Kh=]al[=i]l |Ihnil (or Eint) |Herèrhen, or | | | | (Ererihen) -- |Melane |-- |Millè |Millì Finger |A[s.]bu' |U[s.]bu', |Asba |Esba asali | a[s.]abe' | A[s.]ba | | Flea |Barghùt |Bargauth |Gheròse |Gheroz Fool |Khailak |A[h.]maq |Khailak |Diddo Saddle |Sarga |Sarga |Zmel |Zmel Dog |Kelb |Kalb |Kelb |Not known; no | | | | word Sheep |Khar[=u]fa |-- |Tiwit |Te'eh Salt |Mel[h.] |Mal[h.] |Milhoda |Milh Knife |Sikk[=i]n |Sikk[=i]n |Ais |Sari Fish |Semek |Samak |Seit |Zode It is |L[=a]zim |L[=a]zim |Lazerom |Na'ah necessary| | | | --you must| | | | Enough |Bas |Bas |Bas |Ta'ad One |W[=a][h.]ad |W[=a][h.]ad |Tat |Tat Two |Itnein |I[th=]na[=i]n |Tro |Tra Three |Tal[=a]ta |[Th=]al[=a][th=]a|Saratit |Talele Four |Arba' |Arba' |Arbote |Arbaa Five |[Kh=]amsa |[Kh=]amsa |Khams |Khamse Six |Sitta |Sitta |Itìt |Sitta Seven |Saba' |Saba' |Ibeìt |Saba Eight |Tamania |[Th=]am[=a]nia |Timminè |Tamania Nine |Tissa' |Tisa' |Zeit |Testa Ten |'Ashera |'Ashara |Aserait |Ashera Twenty |'Ishrin |'Ishr[=i]n |Asherin |Ishrin One hundred|Mia |Miat |Mieit |Mia Work |Shugh |Shaghl |Fìsa |Mahalèh Wound, sore|Gurrèh |Gar[=u]h |Sob |Gourèh Pain |Waggà |Waga' |Debkhos |Erlakh Medicine |Dàwa |Daw[=a] |Dewar |Tofin-i-dewar Sun |Shems |Shams |Hayoum |Shehem Ready |[T:]a[=i]r |[T:]a[=i]r |Akabìt |Souèdon Butter |Zùbda |-- |Makozo |Gotomìne I |Àna |-- |Hèmukomòn |Evumuksham You |Enta |Antam |Minesmuk |Minmuksham He |H[=u] |H[=u] |Hou |-- Rope |[H.]abl |[H.]abl |Keit |Enkhar Son, boy |Welèd |Walad |Aghi[=en] |Mukshin Daughter |Bint |Bint |Aghinot |Fèrhin Woman |Horma |[H.]urma |Haremet |Azhè Wood |Hattab |[H.]a[t.]ab |Hatab |Tirob Strong |Kawi |Qav[=i] |Musireh |Musirak War |Harb |[H.]arb |Harb shehen |Harb shehen More |Kamàn |Kam-min Lawa |Ashishfisa, |Ta'alt'hefisa, | | | Fileh'niciteh,| Feleh'ntodèh | | | Riàh | D[=a] Price |Tamàn |[Th=]aman |Soueh |Tetenà Meat |La[h.]m |La[h.]m |Tiwë |Tà Leg |Rigl |Rijl |Serein |Thlaub Blood |Dam |Dam |Douri |Durr Allah |Allah |Allah |Allah |Allah Deaf |Toursh |[T.]ursh |Yehomallah |Doufé Houses |Bouyo[=u]t |Buy[=u]t |Bouyout |Keke Seaweed, |[H.]ash[=i]sh |Ha[sh=][=i][sh=]|Mareh |Röd grass | | | | Servant |'Abd |'Abd |Hoyur |Embaha Slave |Gulam |[Gh=]ulam |Gulma |B'thlekum Tall, long |[T:]aw[=i]l |[T:]aw[=i]l |Taw[=i]l |Ep (Plural) | Atwàl | A[t:]w[=a]l |Tawil |Dihom Stars |Nagoùm |Nag[=u]m |Negoun |Kabkap Lesson |Dars |Dars |Kerì |Mukerè Truth |Hak |[H.]aqq |Hak |Hak Without |Bidùn hak |Bid[=u]n haqq |Hammuk hak |Ekmunk hak truth | | | | In the |fi'l beit |fi'l bait |be beit |Tofok, diè min house | | | | kar In the |fi'l leil |fi'l lail |be leil |billeilhe night | | | | In the road|fi'l tar[=i]k |fi'l tar[=i]q |be haron |orun Heal |Sh[=a]f[=i] |Sh[=a]f[=i] |Bekhairgh |Bekhaeraghe Heart |Kalb |Qalb |Kalb |Elbi Heaven |Sam[=a] |Sam[=a] |Simma |Simma Heavy |Takil |T[h.]aqil |Takil |Eddak Heel |Akab |'Aq[=i]b |Akonosh |Konosh Pig |Khansir |-- |Khansir |Khansir Horn |Karn |Qurn |Kon |Kon Ready |[H.]adir |[H.]a[dh=]ir |Hader |Hader Imperfect |N[=a]kis |N[=a]qis |Nakuss |Biziankazank | | | | bidinya Impossible |[Gh=]air mumkin |[Gh=]air mumkin |Ghair numkin |Ghair numkin Possible |Yimkin |Imk[=a]n |Yumkin |Yumkin Indigo |N[=i]l [n.]edal |N[=i]l |Nihl |Nil Infant |[T:]ifl |[T:]ifl, |Atfal |Atfal | (i[t:]f[=a]l | I[t:]fâl | | | pl.) | | | Infidel |K[=a]fir |-- |Koffer |Keffer Ink |Hibr |Hibr |Indud |Medad Intellect |Akl |'Aql |Okul |Akal Interpreter|Tergumàn |Targum[=a]n |Makaddam |Dehane makaddam Island |Gez[=i]ra |Gaz[=i]rah |Gezeira |Gezeira Jew |Zaho[=u]di |Yah[=u]d[=i] |Yahoude |Yahoude Kick |Rafos |-- |Erkella |Taràkad Intelligent|Fah[=i]hm |Fah[=i]m |Fehemdi |Fehem Kill |Katal |Qatal |Ilbedda |Talata Kind |La[t:][=i]f |La[t:][=i]f |Altehf |Altuiphin Arms |Sillah |Sil[=a][h.] |Shki |Shko Soldier |'Askar |'Askar |Ask[e:]r |Asker King |Malik |Malik |Moli |D'hemmel Arrive |Wa[s.]sala |Wa[s.]ala |Wassel |Gidda Matting-bag|Zamb[=i]l |-- |Z[a.][m.]bil |Zambil Wise |'Alamah |'[=A]lim |Alamah dimondi |Dimondish alemah Cut |Ightsal |-- |Hanmel kosorn |Nerdober Journey |Safar |Safar |Nehassol |Insofar Tired |Ta'b, Ta'ban |Ta'b-Ta'b[=a]n |Ketlak |Resak Tribe |Kab[=i]la |Qab[=i]lah |Kabila |Kabela Now |Dilwakhti |[Dh=]i'l waqti |Leasar |Leasar Learn |Ta'alem |-- |Mollum |Ma'alem Tent |[Kh=][=i]mah, |[Kh=][=i]mah |Arzhlìt |Stirìht | Kheim | | | Sword |Seif |Saif |Keit |Keòttaha Summer |Shitta |-- |Kazem |Kébhor Right, South|Yemèn |Yam[=i]n |Gez[)e]mhine |Tiozeminhah Left, North|Shemàl |Sham[=a]l |Shem[=i]n |Shemin East |Shark |Sharq |Shurakot haioum |Shom West |Garbis |[Gh=]arb |Ghizote |Attabon Late |Mogreb |Mu[gh=]rib |Mogareb |Mogareb evening | | | | How are you|Kheifalak |-- |Besherhelt |Alghiorg To walk |Masha |-- |Mehèklazerom |Entòholnà Yes |Ewa |Ayyaw[=a] |Herrì |Herrì No |L[=a] |L[=a] |-- |Deh Key |Mifta |Mift[=a]h |Mìftàh |Miftàh To tie |Urbut |Yarbu[t:] |Urbut |-- Come here |Ta'al hinna |-- |Assab |Tazùm Give me |Gibli, atini |-- |Inkalbo, Atini |Tadidbo | | | | Habondishoelae Take hold |Khod |-- |Shelùs |Tza Kneel down |Baraka |Baraka |Hebrekaber |Terburuk (to a | | | | camel) | | | | To-morrow |Bukara |Bukara |Bukarèd, |Elli | | | Bukerade | Afterwards |Badèn |Ba'den |M'gori |Enzat Before |Goddam |Qudd[=a]m |Fenouni |Adminlefeni Inside |Da[kh=]l |D[=a][kh=]il |Keb |Dakhl or Turko Outside |Barra |Barr[=a]n |Khareg or |Sheraga or | | | Barr[=a]n | Tcherogehte Door |B[=a]b |B[=a]b |Bob |Terr Year |Sanna |Sannah |Senate |Ehno Week |Shahr |Shahr |Warrakh |Tadkleher Drunk |Sherab |Sharib |Hamontikè |Nerou Road |Tarìk |[T:]ar[=i]q |Haurim |Haurim Dead |Mut |Mat |Maut |Zami To-day |El yom |Al Yaum |Imor |Hair Day after |B'ad Bukra |Ba'd bakarah |Bad gehìn |Dishinzomen to-morrow | | | | Yesterday |Ems |Ams |Imshi |Imshi Mosque |Mesjid |Masjid |Masjid |Masjid Priest |Mollah |Mull[=a] |Ma'alim |Ma'alim Friday |Gumma |Gama' |Ghimata |Gumma Cross |Salìb |M[=i]s[=a]n |Mison |Mison Happy |Mahs[)o]ud |Ma[h.]sûd |Laef |Halut Together |Saw[=a] |Saw[=a] |Nehanakafakhari |Entafakhari Buy |Ishteri |Ishtar[=a.] |Hamilthtòr |Intergyer Above |Fok |Fauq |Hàkala |Minali Below |Ta[kh=]t |Ta[h.]t |Hamenkerat |Inkodediemen Everything |Kul shei |Kull shai |Haltikalla |-- Evening |Asser |'A[s.]ar |-- |Dinofari Wild beast |Wa[h.]sh |Wa[h.]sh |Deshìt |Shodhìhm How much |Kam |Kam |B'kam |Binemshuon Dom-tree |Nebek |Naba' |Dom |Firehem Good |Tayib |[T:]aiyab |Ghet |Dìa Bad |Battal |Ba[t:]l |Khiob |Dià Nice |Zein |Zain |Ghit |Shikèro Great |Kebir |Kab[=i]r |Aghus |Shibìb Greatest |Akbar |Akbar |Aghusa |Shibìhb White |Abaid |Abya[d.] |Lebanèd |Lebìne Black |Asoud |Aswad |Hawa |Khalak Ha-he Old |Kad[=i]m |Qad[=i]m |Dewìl |Tahan New |Ghedid |Gad[=i]d |Hidin |Gedìd Cold |Bard |Bard |Gazùn |Habahur Hot {|Har |[H.]arr |Hehen |Shehem or {|Hami |[H.]umm[=a.] |Hanan Hark |Dio denarher Red |Ahmar |A[h.]mar |Ufer |Afer Green |Akdar |Akdar |-- |-- Yellow |Asfar |A[s.]far |Hat'hor |Shedhor Much |Ghali |[Gh=]al[=i] |Zeboun |Ghali Cheap |Rak[=i]s |-- |Rakis |Rakis Rich |Ghani |[Gh=]an[=i] |Togìr |Tag Poor |Fakir |Faq[=i]r |Faker |Faker Wretched |Meskin |Misk[=i]n |Meskin |Meskin Father |Ab[=u] |Ab[=u] |Hebe |Bebe Mother |Om |Umm |Hamme |Beo Eat |Akul |Akal |Hamkout |Gebenganeo Fear |[Kh=][=a]f |-- |Linkhaf |Sherboton Angry |Nehm |-- |Shuhkof |Daime Sick |Ayyan |-- |Bithell |Giore Broken, |Maks[=u]r |Maks[=u]r |Tiber |Sheteghen Injured | | | | News |Kabar |[Kh=]abar |Kobber |Kabr Early |Bèdri, Subba |Sab[=a]h |Ksobba |Kasaibeya Peace |Salaan |Sal[=a]m |Subbaellah |Alburr Dirty |Wasakh |Wasa[kh=] |Mithkal |Haidek Clean |Nod[=i]f |Na[dhdh=]af |Ghihdi |Nodeif Boat |Merkab |Markab |Merkab |Merkab Ride |Yerkab |Yarkab |Hamle rekhob |Nirerkab Rain |Matar |Ma[t.]ar |Lehamed |Messer Crooked |Awwaz |'Awwaj |Nehanellom |Netògher Finished |Khalas |[Kh=]ala[s.] |Burneghessen |Tettin Thus |Kidda |Ka[d.][=a] |-- |-- Go { |Yemshi |Yamsh[=i] |Suè |Toïke { |Rua |R[=a][h.] |Ghen[=i] |Toher Prison |Habs |[H.]abs |Habs |Habs Present |Bakhshis |Bakh[sh=][=i][sh=]|Bakhshesh |Bakhshish Prophet |Nebi |Nab[=i] |Nebe |Nebe Open |Maft[=u]h |Maft[=u][h.] |Bob fitàh |Ghinatten Orphan |Yat[=i]m |Yat[=i]m |Aytìm |Esmediafore Bucket |Dalu |Dal[=u] |Dolu |M'l'hia To paint |Lauwan, Laun |Lawwan |Laun |Sourah Palm |Saóuf nakhl |-- |Safe |Hes el timeri branches | | | | Parents |Walidein |W[=a]lidain |Hebe wahami |Bebe wavubeyah Fowl |Dakika |-- |Karoun |Ent Liver |Kabid |Kabid |Kabid |Kabid Thirsty |A[t:]chan |'A[t:]sh[=a]n |Hailuk |Toimek Hungry |Goàn |G[=i]'[=a]n |Göak |Sottak Praise |[H.]amd |[H.]amd |Hamd |Hamd Slow |Ba'ati |-- |Aden abatayah |Aden nau Christian |Nàzari |Na[s.][=a]r[=i] |Nazari |Nazari Immediately|Hàlan |[H.][=a]lan |Lazerom |Na'ah Myrrh gum |Lobàn |Lub[=a]n |Tlahas |Tlahas Myrrh tree |Leben |-- |Mogherate |Emiïdu Knee |Rukbah |-- |Bark |Berk Lame |A'rag |'Arag |Tibere |Gushel To laugh |[D.]a[h.]ik |Qa[h.]qa[h.] |Istahalk |N'dlahak Laughter |[D.]i[h.]k |[D.]i[h.]k |Ethelhalk |Entlahak Leg |Sa[k.] |S[=a]q |Tharem |Ihlop Leper |Abra[s.] |Ibr[=a][s.] |B'hohg |Behehok Lift |Urfa |-- |Urfah |Dza(minha) Like (same |Mitl-shibh |Mi[th=]l |Izdah |Toàha as) | | | | Lion |As[=a]d; plural,|Asad |Gailar |(No word, because | uso[)u]d | | | they say | | | | 'we none in | | | | Sokotra') To dwell |Sakan |Sakan |Nehamel |N'zohn henna | | | Entowelboum | Lungs |Riah |Ri, ah |Gil't'hori |Geha Mad |Magn[=u]n |Magn[=u]n |Haiw[=a]l |Mankaina Mankind |Beni Adam |Ban[=i] [=A]dam |Beni Adam |Makuloka (cf. | | | | Makalaka, | | | | South Africa) Magic |Sihr |Si[h.]r |Saghir |Sahire Naked |'Aryán |'Ury[=a]n |Harket el binad |Esoufai libineben Napkin |Fòu[t:]a |Fau[t:]h |Foutah |Fotere | _or_ | | | | F[=u][t:]ah | | | Neck |'Unk-Ra[k.]abah |'Unq Raqabah |Ghoti |Rokoba Needle |Ibrah; plural, |Ibrah |Makaite |Makite | ubàr | | | Noble |Sharìf |[Sh=]arìf |Sharif |Sharìf Noise |[S.]aut |[S.]aut |Aroumekin |Metdelhin | | | _or_ | _or_ | | | Saut | Ta'ad'hin None |Lâ a[h.]ad |L[=a] a[h.]ad |Hadelabun |Balheh Nose |Anf, manakhìr, |Anf |Nakarinya |Nahare | khoshim | | | Hurry |Ishtagil |-- |Deghodum |Denofer A quarter |Rub' |Rub' |Erbeit |Töman Bone |'Azm |'Azm |Athail |Sahilla Feather |R[=i]shah |-- |Thluf |Nefereri Quilt |Lahàf |Li[h.][=a]f |Guderi |Miskal Lamb |Arnab _or_ |-- |Arnab |(They have no | Erneb | | | word) Rat |Gard'hom |Gur[dh=]um |Gihreit |Zadahin Ruined |Kharàb |[Kh=]ar[=a]b |Khaiob |Kharbeni Purse, bag,|Gaib _or_ |Gaib, jaib |Kies |Kies pocket | Kies | | | Idle |Kesl[=a]n |Kasl[=a]n |Fohsel |Aghizdè Do your |Amel Shuglak |'Aml shu[gh=]lak|Amal hagil de |Tenofar dishberi work, | | | felene | _or_| | | | Mind your| | | | own | | | | business | | | | Book |Kit[=a]b |Kit[=a]b |Nektib |Inkotub Writing |Mekt[=u]b |Makt[=u]b |Berklub |Berklub Honey |'Asal |'Asal |Assal |Assal Behind |Wàra |War[=a] |Manghirek |Minherrin Bitter |Murr |Murra |Hermet |Ajhi Wielding |Arouz |'Urs |Arouz |Arouz But |L[=a]kin |L[=a]kin |Lakin |Yakaïta Caravan |Kàfila |Q[=a]filah |Shikfilèla |Beghishekfil Load |Huml |[H.]aml |Hamul |Hamul Begin |Ibtida |'Ibtid[=a] |Bedihn |Bedehn Kitchen |M[=u][t:]b[=u]kh|Ma[t:]ba[kh=] |Mutabukh |Mulbakt Bird |Dik |-- |Dik |Dik Dig |Hafar |-- |Nehamel hafere |Nehafar Rest |Rahah |-- |Rahah |Tareharhinnaha Doctor |[H.]akim |[H.]ak[=i]m |-- |-- Cup |Finj[=a]n |Finj[=a]n |Finjan |Finjan | K[=u]bayet | | K[=u]bàyet | K[=u]bàyet Skin |Gild |Gild, jild |Geld |Geld Eggs |Bei[d:], Degade |Bai[d:] |Degaghe |Degaghe Never |Abadan |-- |Abadàn |Abadàn Stream |Ghail |-- |Dihib |Thlab Paper |Warak |Waraq |Werkart |Warraka Sit |Ghisel Gitez |-- |Towel |Tsalleh Dry |Nashif |Na[sh=][sh=]af |Dehar |Terahat Read |Karà |Qar[=a] |Ktub |Kteb Scarce |N[=a]dir |N[=a]dir |Kalèd |Khlahrohb Roast |Shawa |Shawa |Hamtiwi |Tè Rob |Sarak |Saraq |Hirrik |Seirek Room |O[d.]a |O[d.]ah |Hod |Hod Round |[H.]aul |[H.]aul |Hagìr |Haghia Root |A[s.]l |A[s.]l |Asali |Asl Run |Raka[d.] |Raka[d.] |Houeh |Tshà Ripe |Mustawi |Mustawi |Mushtawi |Mushlawi Seal |[Kh=]at[=i]m |[Kh=]atam |Khatini |Houleh Riches |Mal |-- |Molshè |Inoshinia Reap |[H.]a[s.]ad |[H.]a[s.]ad |Hazad |Hazd Beat |[D:]araba |[D:]araba |L'bedi |Toghì Nut |Brandouk |-- |Brandouk |Brandouk Obey |A[t:]a |A[t:]a' |Atawa |Naddub Order |Amr |Amr |Amr |Amar Old woman |'Agouz |'Ag[=u]zah |Agouz |Khlibip Ornament |Zena |Z[=i]nat |Git |Tchera Owl |Boum |B[=u]m |Tlarhitin |Tlarhiten Castle |Ka[s.]r |Qasr |[H.]az[a.]r ed |H[)a]zar _or_| | | Dowlet | S[=a]dahan palace | | | | Palm of the|Kaf-fusa |Kaff |Dehòte |Dehò hand | | | | Pardon |[Gh=]afar |[Gh=]afar |Netur min el |Beligiter min | | | habs | el habs A little |Shwaya |Shuwaiyah |Musted |Einoshedèhe Where is |Fein el Beled |Fi ain al balad |Hoddehabed del |Hodde belad the town | | | Felani | People |N[=a]s |N[=a]s |Haboa |Hohafon Head |R[=a]s |R[=a]s |Ras |Ras Blood |Dam |-- |-- |Musailo Disordered |Dam Kholeil |-- |Douri |Durr blood | | | | Pen |Kalam |Qalam |Kalam |Kalam Anger |[Gh=]adab |[Gh=]adab |Ghatitali |Hetterhinhi Pay |Waffa |Waf[=a.] |Woffehinki |Waffie Pepper |Filfil |Filfil |Filfil |Tiflfarlo Perfume |'I[t:]r |'I[t:]r |Attar |Hal Perspire |Arak |'Ariq |Deanghalen |Ikimen Pin |Dabb[=u]s |Dabb[=u]s |Dabous |Dabous Plague |Ta'[=u]n |[T:][=a]'[=u]n |Duinhaufal Eikeo|Eiked Ouìhafel Ugly |Ba'in |-- |Behimet |Behimah Plant |Nab[=a]t |Nabat |Nebhat |Nebout -----------+----------------+----------------+----------------+---------------- ------------------+--------------------+--------------------+------------------ English | Arabic | Mahri | Sokoteri ------------------+--------------------+--------------------+------------------ What is she doing |Eish yamèlhu |Tum ul aisin |Inempt shüyet I drink water |Ana sherab moye |Nehamel el tikhe |Ithkellare You are very kind |Enta latif ketir |Meshiri meikin |Latif beyne Do you know Mehri?|Enta taraf el Meheri|Arebuk Meheri |Ahruh Mehri We talk Sokotri |Nahn natàllem el |Nahan natallùm |Ik n'atalam | Sokoteri | Sokoteriote | Sokoteria Give me another |Gibli wa[h.]ad |Hateli tadrhaa |Abouli | [th=][=a]na | | beladàtis How many days from|Kam ayo'om min |Kam yom m'boun |Kam yom menha here to the sea?| hinna illa el | ta heik | afta'a | bahr | | Near the water |Gar[=i]b el moya |-- |Lal diho ------------------+--------------------+--------------------+------------------- FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 15: When they wish to warn the camel not to knock against anything in a narrow place they cry 'Berri! Berri!'] LIST OF SOME OF THE ARABIC AND OTHER WORDS EXPLAINED IN THE TEXT abba, 193 abr, 409 afrit, 199 ailb, 109 attar, 141 awwal, 41 batil, 277 b'dom, 109 brinjol, 141 ghail, 86 ghasl, 109 ghatrif, 248 ghi, 37, 260 gohb, 247[A] gourod, 306 habat-assoba, 141 halwa, 221 hárami, 116 horma, 212 helf, 141 herris, 426 jembia, 199 kabila, 140 kadhlb, 108 kafila, 85 kahwa, 34 kattira, 230 kayya, 116 kazbah, 120 kei, 245[A] kharrad, 145 khawah, 57 kho, 275[A] kourzan, 117 kutcha, 149 lahaf, 245 loess, 128 luthba, 86 medakdak, 81 madhar, 83 madibash, 19 majilis, 34 mangola, 336 masabam, 129 merghazi, 414 mersa, 291 miet, 248[A] mis'hap, 128 munkala, 336 nakhoda, 281 ohma, 245 ouft, 275[A] rack, 85 reis, 281 rezai, 245 saap, 145 salang, 19 sambuka, 220 shabib, 93 shur, 275[A] sirah, 19 siyar, 104 siyara, 104 tara, 21 tarsla, 336 tawilah, 5 whabba, 69 yusur, 294 zamouta, 141 ziara, 132 ziaret, 97 FOOTNOTES: [Footnote A: These words are used by the Gara.] INDEX Ababdeh tribe, 290, 296, 305 Abr Shebba, 409 Abyan, plain of the, 401, 407, 427 Abyssapolis, 269 Abyssinia, 91, 101, 314-6 Abyssinians in Sokotra, 354 Adab, 106 Adahan, 388 Addites, 242, 265-6; legends of, 105, 130 Aden, 46, 393; difficulties at, 72; departure from, 228, 346, 399; return to, 284, 398, 428 Adulis, ruins at, 241 Aelius Gallus, 247, 253 Africa, exploration in, 287 Akaba, the, 88 &c., 164, 166 Akhmed Orab, 305 Alagoum, 130 Al Agran, 124 Al Balad, 240-1 Al Hafa, 232, 235 Al Kaiti, family of, 75, 76 &c., 97, 144, 206, 282 Al Kara, 403 Al Koton, 111 &c. Al Madi, 190, 191, 194 Albuquerque, in the Persian Gulf, 10; commentaries of, quoted, 6, 40, 50 Ali, mounds of, 20 &c. Allaki, mines of, 323 Aloes, 194; in Sokotra, 376, 381 Amara tribe, 301 Ambergris, 344 Amri tribe, 139, 171, 277 Aòdeli tribe, 424; mountains of, _ib._ Apes, 271 Arab games, 4, 333 Arad, 2 Armenians, 230 Ascites, 247 Asses, 3, 20 Aydab, 300-1, 305, 325 Baboons, 412 Baggala, 8, 205 Bahrein, Islands of, 1 &c.; asses of, 3; coffee-pots, 5; pearl fisheries, 6; boats, 8; history, 9; wells in, 20, 40; springs, 14, 41; British protectorate, 13 Bahrein, Isa, Sultan of, 13. _See also_ El Khalifa Bahr-Safi, 129 Bakhrein, 82 Balfour, Professor, 343, 382 Barahout. _See_ Bir Borhut Basra, 83 _Batil_, 8, 229, 277 Batran, 298 Bazahel, 166 Bedja tribes in the Soudan, 301, 323, 354 Beni, 302 Bedouin, attack Maskat, 59; of the Hadhramout, 74, 73 &c., 93, 128, 213; the name, 128; religion of, 133, 261, 274; origin of, 249; of the Gara, 239 &c.; of the Soudan, 301 &c., 350; of Sokotra, 365 &c.; in Arabia, 426; dances, 129 Berenice, 291-2, 294, 296 Bir Baokban, 190 Bir Borhut, 138, 228, 282 Bir Lammas, 425 Bir Mighar, 401 Bisharin, tribe of, in the Sudan, 298, 301, 304 &c. Boats, Arabian, 215, 220, 230, 277-8, 284, 288, 293. _See Batil_, _Baggala_, _Houra_, _Sambuka_ British. _See_ Maskat, Persian Gulf, Sokotra Bushire, 2 Butter-making in Sokotra, 336, 346 Buttra, 17, 35, 46, 66 Camels, in the Hadhramout, fed on fish, 81; in Dhofar, 244; in the Soudan, 330; in Sokotra, 368-9 Camel marks, 369, 438 Camoens, 254 Campbell Bey, 289 Carrei tribe, 247 Carter, Dr., 254 Cholmley, Mr. A., 288 Coral, 294 Darour, 290 Date-palms, stories concerning, 19; uses of, _ib._; in the Hadhramout, 116 Derbat, 272 Dervishes in the Soudan, 293, 299, 304, 311-12, 326, 338 Dhofar, plain of, 233 &c.; products of, 235; antiquities in, 239; camels of, 244 _Dianæ Oraculum_, 266 Diodorus quoted, 318, 324 Dioscorides, name of Sokotra, 344, 363 Dirgheg, 407 Dis, 211 Dollars, Maria Theresa, 208, 239, 285, 414 Dragon's-blood tree, 344, 379 Dress of women, 95, 100, 110, 119, 136, 237, 349, 405, 424 Durand, Sir M., 9, 29 Eber, the prophet, 130, 132 Egyptians, ancient, in Arabia, 270; trade in frankincense, 234; in the Red Sea, 293; gold mines, 313, 318, 320 &c. Egyptians, modern, on the Red Sea 293; in the Soudan 307, 309 El Hasa, 1; products of, 5, 38, 42 El Khalifa, family of, 12, 31, 35, 39 El Matra, 58, 68 Emerald mines, 296 Eratosthenes, 21 Erba, Mount, 314, 330 Eriosh, 354 Ethiopians, 302; in Sokotra, 354 Euphrates Valley Railway, 9 Fahdli tribe, 399, 400, 408 &c. Farash, 169 Fereghet, 383 Frankincense, 224; in the Hadhramout, ancient trade in, 89 &c.; in Dhofar, 234, 245, 252 &c.; in Sokotra, 344, 380 French in the Persian Gulf, 60 French, Bishop, 68 Gara, mountains, 234; scenery of, 256 &c, 262 &c.; tribe, 244, 246 &c.; weapons of, 247; customs of, 257; women of, 258; religion, 260; language, 275 Gebaniti, tribe of the, 152 Geological notices, 211-12 Ghaida, 185 Ghail Omr, 170 Goddam, mountains of, 412, 421 Gold mines, Egyptian, 301, 313, 318 &c., 338 Graffiti, 333, 354 Hadai, 315 Hadendowa, 317 Hadhramout, valley of the, 71 &c.; population of, 79; meaning of the word, 71; plants of, 85, 108; physical features, 90, 108; castles, 106; Seyyids of, 115, 227, 280-2, 423 Hadibo. _See_ Tamarida Hagarein, 96, 98 &c., 103 Hagarein, Abdul, Sultan of, 98 &c., 103, 141, 282 Hagheri Ask, 401, 408 Haghier, Mount, 351, 368, 378 Haibel Gabrein, 90 Halaib, 290, 298 Hami, 210 Hamoumi tribe, 168 &c., 177, 186, 207, 283 Hamoumi, Sultan of the, 214 Hamram, 275 Hatasou, Queen, 270, 293 Haula, 362 Haura, 106 Haura, Sultan of, 282 Hazarmaveth, 72, 89, 95, 133 Herodotus, quoted, 21 Himyaritic remains, 49, 104, 166, 242, 402, 405, 413; civilisation, 71, 143 inscriptions, 71 Hirsch, Herr Leo, 72 Hormuz, 10 _Houri_, 68, 292 Ibadhuyah. _See_ Ibadiet Ibadiet, sect of the, 50 Interpreters, 2, 209, 288, 317, 345-6, 364. _See_ Saleh Hasan Jabberi tribe, 151, 155 &c., 165 Jayaker, Dr., 69, 228 Jebel Akhdar, 229, 284 Jebel Erba. _See_ Erba Jebel Gabeil, 405 Jebel Sarrar, 407 Jedda, Consuls murdered at, 283 Jedid, 281; Sultan of, 277 _Jinni_, 219, 260, 273, 361, 415 Kabr Houd, 130, 139, 282 Kabr Saleh, 130, 139 Kadhoup, 357 Kaidoun, 97 Kalenzia, 346 Kamour, 150 Kanfar, 401-2 Karachi, 228 _Kattira_, 300 Kattiri tribe, 119, 127, 130, 139, 146-7, 277 Khaila, 93, 109 Khalifa, the, 287, 296 Khatiya, 270 Kho Rouri, 270 Khor Shinab, 307 Khoreba, 91, 92 Kilab tribe, 310, 316-7 Kishin, 277, 280; Sultan of, 280, 362 Koloe, ruins at, 241 Kosseir, 214, 220, 290; Sultan of, 282 Kufic remains, 300, 313, 316 Kurbab tribe, 311 Kutch, 284 Leprosy, 105 Locusts, 303, 306 Maaber, 219 Mahri tribe, 139, 236, 252-3, 277-8; in Sokotra, 343, 346, 362; language, 363-4, 366, 389, 393, 434 Makalla, 74 &c., 142, 224 Makalla, Manassar, Sultan of, 75 &c., 145, 224 Manamah, 3 &c. Mandob, 161 Mansura, 241 Manteion Artemidos, 241 Marco Polo quoted, 50, 344, 355, 362 Maria Theresa dollars, 208, 239, 414 Marriage ceremonies, 101 Mashonaland, 317, 337, 373 Maskat (_See also_ Oman), 45 &c. description of, 46, 63; harbour of, 47; bazaars, 64; Portuguese at, 50 &c.; British in, 54, 55, 58; Sultans of, 54, 227, 358 Maskat, Feysul, Sultan of, 56, 61; visit to, 57, 229 Maskat, Tourki, Sultan of, 55 Massawa, 313 Maundeville, Sir John, 8 Medical experiences, 85, 110, 117, 136, 258, 282, 303, 348, 415-6 Merbat, 230 &c., 268-9 Merbat, Suleiman, Wali of, 231 &c., 268, 277 Mersa Halaib, 288 Meshed, 101-2, 105, 141 Miles, Colonel, 234 Minhali tribe, 139, 151, 155, 172, 277 Minqui, 266 Mirage, 401 Mis'hal, plain of, 421, 423 &c. Mohammed Gol, 296, 301, 309 Moharek, 2; visit to, 13 Money of Oman, 61, 284 Morghani, sect of the, 298 Moscha, 253, 269, 270 Myos Homos, 290. _See_ Kosseir Myrrh in the Hadhramout, 77, 91; in Dhofar, 254 Naab, 412 Nahadi tribe, 105, 155 Naida, 184-5 Nearchus, Periplus of, 6, 21, 49, 259, 269, 344, 392 Nejd, 39, 142, 236, 264, 361 Nezweh, 47, 49 Oman, 8; History of, 49 &c.; Imams of, _ib._; kingdom of, 235, 278; coins of, 284. _See also_ Maskat Omr, tomb of, 171 Parsees in the Hadhramout, 75, 77 Pearl fisheries, 6 &c., 54, 292 Periplus. _See_ Nearchus Persians at Bahrein, 11, 17; in Dhofar, 242 Persian Gulf, British influence in, 13, 45 &c., 54, 59 &c. _See_ Slavery, Maskat, Bahrein, Portuguese, Phoenicians Phoenicians in Bahrein, 21 &c.; origin of the, 22 Piracy, suppression of, 55-6; in Sokotra, 344 Pliny, quoted, 21, 88, 92, 152, 293 Polygamy, 114 Portuguese, pearl fisheries, 6; at Bahrein, 10 &c.; at Maskat, 50 &c.; in Dhofar, 254; in Sokotra, 357, 363, 391-2 Portuguese buildings, 11, 17, 18, 49, 63 Ptolemaic period, 291-6 Ptolemy quoted, 88, 92, 241, 266, 272 Punt, land of, 234, 270, 344 Raida, 216-7 Rakhiout, 278 Ramazan, 218, 221, 224, 292 Ras Bagashwa, 220 Ras Bernas, 292, 295 Ras Dis, 220, 281 Ras Fartak, 281 Ras Hamar, 279 Ras Momi, 356, 368, 372, 375-6 Ras Risout, 245, 269 Red Sea, coast of, 290 &c., 340; slave trade in, 294 Riadh, 304 Risout, 233, 279 Rizat, 275 Robat, 240-1 Roe, Sir Thomas, 355 Rostok, 47 Rufa'a, 21; visit to, 33 Sa'ah, 162, 173 Sabæan trade in spices, 253-4; inscriptions, 125, 129, 135, 333; ruins, 49, 240, 265, 269 Sadler, Colonel Hayes, 228 Safi, King, 129 Sagan, 125 Saièhen, 371 Saihan, 373 Saihut, 142, 207, 233, 280-1 Salaka, 333 Saleh, the prophet, 132. _See_ Kabr Saleh Saleh Hasan, 73, 96, 102, 106, 109, 157, 182, 186 &c., 223 _Sambuka_, 220 Sarrar, 214-7 Sawakin, 290, 341 Sawakin Kadim, 300 Schweinfurth, Dr., 343, 391 Sedad, 67 Sellala, 331-4 Seyyids of the Hadhramout, 80 Shabwa, 91, 129, 142, 152 Shafi, sect of, 154 Sheher, 163, 171, 175, 200, 202 &c., 205 &c., 210, 281 Sheher, Hussein, Sultan of, 202, 222, 280, 281, 283 Shellal, 298, 303 Shendeh, 304 Shibahm, city of, 126, 142 &c.; castle of, 146 Shibahm, Salah-bin-Mohammad, Sultan of, 107, 111 &c., 162, 204, 282 Shukra, 425-7 Sief, 94, 101, 109 Siwoun, 119, 146 Siyar, Siyara, 104, 178, 202, 209, 283 Slave trade, 232; in the Persian Gulf, 60; in the Red Sea, 293, 308, 311 Slavery, Arab, 60, 80, 404, 408 Smyth, Captain, 288, 303, 320-2, 341-2 Snow, 423 Sobar, 49 Sokotra, inhabitants of, 280, 363, 369; history of, 343 &c., 391-2; geographical position, 345; language, 345, 357, 363-5, 439; antiquities of, 373-5, 379, 384; Christianity in, 344, 354; Portuguese in, 357, 363, 384, 391-2; English in, 363, 392-3; Greeks in, 392; scenery of, 368, 385, 396 Sokotra, Salem, Sultan of, 280, 362, 394 Solomon, 293 Somali, 89 Soudan, 287 &c.; Egyptian garrisons in, 290; slave trade in, 293, 311; gold, 325; population of, 301-2; mountains of, 315 Spain, annexations of Portugal, 49, 51 Sprenger, Aloys, quoted, 241-2, 247 Strabo, quoted, 293 Suakim. _See_ Sawakin. Sufeila, 186 &c. Suk, 391, 394 Takha, 240, 268 Talismans, 426 Tamarida, 347, 361, 391 Tamimi tribe, 139, 151, 155 &c., 171, 177, 277 Terim, 119, 146 Terre Pleine, 289 Thumna, 152 Todin, 315 Tokhum, 83 Torisi, quoted, 49 Tourki, Sultan of Maskat, 235, 238 Turks, in Bahrein, 13; in the Persian Gulf, 51, 54; in Arabia, 235, 425 Uttubi, 11 Wadi Addattereh (Soudan), 335 Wadi Adim (Hadhramout), 90-1, 159, 169, 170 &c., 189 Wadi al Ain (Hadhramout), 144, 158 Wadi al Aisa (Hadhramout), 90 &c. Wadi Ambaya (Soudan), 334 Wadi Banna (Fahdli), 401-6 Wadi bin Ali (Hadhramout), 159, 163 &c. Wadi Doan (Hadhramout), 72, 90-1, 94, 104 Wadi Gabeit (Soudan), 310, 318, 320, 328, 333 Wadi Ghafait (Hadhramout), 84 Wadi Gherid (Hadhramout), 210 Wadi Ghersid (Gara), 256 &c. Wadi Gumatyewa (Soudan), 315 Wadi Hadai (Soudan), 310, 316 Wadi Hadda (Fahdli), 421 Wadi Hadira (Hadhramout), 163 Wadi Hassan (Fahdli), 407, 409-10 Wadi Hayet (Soudan), 311, 328 Wadi Howeri (Hadhramout), 85-6, 163 Wadi Iroquis (Soudan), 315 Wadi Kasr (Hadhramout), 96 Wadi Khonab (Hadhramout), 130 Wadi Khur (Soudan), 330 Wadi Koukout (Soudan), 335 Wadi Latat (Hadhramout), 130 Wadi Mosila (Hadhramout), 219, 281-282 Wadi Nahast (Gara), 265 Wadi Reban (Fahdli), 418 Wadi Samluf (Fahdli), 427 Wadi Ser (Hadhramout), 126 Wadi Shekheri (Hadhramout), 219 Wadi Sherwin (Hadhramout), 218 Wahabi, sect of, 5, 12, 34, 54, 63, 361 Wali Abdullah-bin-Amr, feud of, 402 &c. Wali Suleiman. _See_ Merbat. Wellsted, Lieutenant, 358, 393 Wingate, Colonel, 288 Wrede, Herr v., 72, 97, 129, 130, 155 Xavier, Francis, 355 Yafei (tribe in the Hadhramout), 75, 139, 143, 402 &c. 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9457	----	[p.iii] TRAVELS IN ARABIA COMPREHENDING AN ACCOUNT OF THOSE TERRITORIES IN HEDJAZ WHICH THE MOHAMMEDANS REGARD AS SACRED. BY THE LATE JOHN LEWIS BURCKHARDT PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE ASSOCIATION FOR PROMOTING THE DISCOVERY OF THE INTERIOR OF AFRICA LONDON : HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 1829. [p.v] PREFACE OF THE EDITOR. SOME years have now elapsed since two distinct portions of Burckhardt�s works (his Travels in Nubia and Syria) were offered to the public, and most favourably received; their success being insured not only by instrinsic merit, but by the celebrity of their editor as a scholar and antiquary, a traveller and a geographer. It must not however be inferred, from any delay in publishing the present volume, that its contents are less worthy of notice than those parts which have already proved so interesting and instructive to a multitude of readers. It was always intended that this Journal, and other writings of the same lamented author, should issue successively from the press: �There still remain,� says Colonel Leake, in his Preface to the Syrian Journal (p. ii.) �manuscripts sufficient to fill two volumes: one of these will consist of his Travels in Arabia, which were confined to the Hedjaz or Holy Land of the Muselmans, the part least accessible to Christians; the fourth volume will contain very copious remarks on the Arabs of the Desert, and particularly the Wahabys.� [p.vi] Respecting the portion now before the reader, Colonel Leake, in another place, expresses a highly flattering opinion. �Burckhardt,� says he, �transmitted to the Association the most accurate and complete account of the Hedjaz, including the cities of Mekka and Medina, which has ever been received in Europe. His knowledge of the Arabic language, and of Mohammedan manners, had enabled him to assume the Muselman character with such success, that he resided at Mekka during the whole time of the pilgrimage, and passed through the various ceremonies of the occasion, without the smallest suspicion having arisen as to his real character.� (See the Life of Burckhardt prefixed to his Travels in Nubia, p. lvii. 4to. edition, 1819). Recommended so strongly, the work of a less eminent traveller would be entitled to our notice: this presents itself with another claim; for the manuscript Journal was partly corrected and prepared for publication by the learned editor of Burckhardt�s former writings. But some important literary occupations prevented Colonel Leake from superintending the progress of this volume through the press. His plan, however, has been almost invariably adopted by the actual editor; particularly in expressing with scrupulous fidelity the author�s sentiments on all occasions, and in retaining, without any regard to mere elegance of style or selection of terms, his original language, wherever an alteration was not absolutely necessary to reconcile with our system of phraseology and grammatical construction certain foreign idioms which had crept into his English writings. [It was thought expedient, from circumstances of typographical convenience tending to facilitate and expedite the publication of this volume, that the Arabic characters which in the original manuscript follow immediately certain words, or appear between the lines or in the margin, should here be placed together at the end, as an Index, with references to the pages wherein they occur.] [p.vii] The map prefixed to this volume might almost appear superfluous, since the positions of Djidda, Mekka, Medina, Tayf, and Yembo, the chief places of Hedjaz visited by Burckhardt, are indicated with accuracy in the excellent maps that illustrate his Nubian and Syrian Travels. But as the reader of this volume cannot reasonably be supposed to have constantly at hand, for immediate reference, the two former portions of our author�s works, a map is here given, in the construction and delineation of which Mr. Sydney Hall has attended to every suggestion offered by the editor: at whose recommendation the names of places are spelt after Burckhardt�s manner, however different from that more usual among us. [Thus in the map as in the letter-press of this volume, Mekka might have been spelt Mecca; and Hejaz, Jidda, Nejed, would as well express the proper sounds of those words as Hedjaz, Djidda, Nedjed; and at the same time approximate more closely to the original Arabic orthography, by which our English j (as in Jar, James, &c.) is represented without the assistance of a d; although the prefixing of this letter to the j might prevent a Frenchman from pronouncing it as in jour, jamais, &c.] By the editor�s advice, also, several places situate beyond the Eastern limits of Hedjaz are included in this map; since Burckhardt, although he did not visit them himself, has given some original itineraries, in which they are mentioned. That those places do not belong to the region properly denominated Hedjaz, is evident; but how far this region extends eastward cannot easily be determined; and the same difficulty respecting it occurs in various directions. The editor, that he might ascertain by what boundaries we are justified in supposing Hedjaz to be separated from other provinces of Arabia, consulted a multiplicity of authors, both European and Oriental. The result, however, of his inquiry has not proved satisfactory; for to each of the neighbouring countries. [p.viii] certain writers have assigned towns, stations, and districts, which by others of equal authority are placed in Hedjaz. Such confusion may partly have arisen from the different statements of the number, extent, and names of divisions comprised within the same space; this being occupied, according to European writers, by three great regions, the Stony, the Desert, and the Happy Arabia; while Oriental geographers partition it into two, five, six, seven, or more provinces, under denominations by no means corresponding in signification to the epithets above mentioned, which we have borrowed from the Greeks and Romans. That it would be a most difficult, or scarcely possible task, to fix precisely the limits of each Arabian province, is acknowledged by that excellent geographer, D�Anville; but he seems disposed to confound the region comprising Mekka, Djidda, and Yembo, (places which, as we know, are unequivocally in Hedjaz,) with Arabia Felix. [D�Anville, Géographie Ancienne.] D�Herbelôt, in one place, declares Hedjaz to be Arabia Petraea, [See the Bibliothèque Orientale in �Hegiaz ou Higiaz�--�Nom d�une province de l�Arabie, que nous appelons Pierreuse,� &c.-- Richardson also, in his Arabic and Persian Dictionary, explains Hijaz by �Mecca and the adjacent country, Arabia Petraea;� and Demetrias Alexandrides, who translated some portions of Abulfeda�s Geography into Greek, (printed at Vienna, 1807, 8vo.) always renders Hedjaz by [Greek text] and in another he identifies it with Arabia Deserta. [�Les Provinces de Tahama et d�Iemamah sont comme au coeur du pays; celle de Hegiaz est devenue la plus célebre à cause des villes de la Mecque et de Medine, et fait avec les deux dernières que nous avons nommées ce que nous appelons l�Arabie Déserte.�--Biblioth. Orient. in �Arab.�]] Among the Eastern writers, some divide Arabia into two parts, Yemen and Hedjaz; others into five great provinces, Yemen, Hedjaz, Nedjed, Tehama, and Yemama. Bahrein has also been included; [p.ix] and Aroudh is named as an Arabian province, but appears to be the same as Yemama. Hadramaut, Mahrah, Shejr, Oman, and other subdivisions have likewise been reckoned independent provinces by some, while many confound them with the greater regions, Yemen and Hedjaz. To the latter, indeed, are often assigned even the extensive countries of Nedjed, Tehama, and Yemama. Respecting the boundaries of all these provinces, much embarrassment has arisen from contradictory statements made by several of the most eminent Oriental geographers; Edrisi, Abulfeda, Al Madaieni, Ibn Haukal, Ibn el Vardi, Bakoui, and others. Mr. Rommel, a very ingenious commentator on Abulfeda�s �Arabia,� is frequently obliged to acknowledge the difficulty of ascertaining where one division begins and another terminates. With regard, more particularly, to the boundaries of Hedjaz, Abulfeda is silent; but it appears that his opinion, so far as Mr. Rommel could collect from incidental accounts of places assigned to this province and adjoining territories, did not in all respects coincide with the statements of other celebrated geographers. [See �Christophori Rommel Abulfedea Arabiae Descriptio, commentario perpetuo illustrata,� Gottingae, 1802, 4to. �Ambitum et fines hujus provinciae Abulfeda designare supersedet.--Al Madaieni haec profert: �Hhegiaz est provincia complectens illum tractum montium qui inde ab Yaman expansus usque ad Sham (Syriam) protenditur. In eo tractu sitae sunt Madinah et Amman�-- Cum hoc dissidere Abulfedam non dubium est.--Ibn al Arabi: �Quod est inter Tehamah et Nagd illud est Hhegiaz.�--Fusius Ibn Haukal: �Quod protenditur a limite Serrain urbis sitae ad mare Kolzum adusque viciniam Madian, et inde reflectendo per limitem tendentem in ortum urbis Hhegr, ad montem Tai trunseundo juxta tergum Yamamah ad mare Persicum, hoc totum ad Hhegiaz pertinet.� Et alio loco: �Hhegiaz ea est provincia, quae Maccah et Madinah et Yamamah cum earundem territoriis comprehendit.�--Ibn al Vardi Hhegiaz appellat provinciam secus Sinum Arabicum et a regione Habyssiniae sitam--Bakui eam inter Yaman et Syriam posuisse satis habet, simul longitudinem ejus mensis itinere emetiens.�--(pp. 57-68.)] [p.x] It may perhaps be asked, why our inquisitive traveller did not learn from some intelligent native the precise extent and limits of Hedjaz? To this question the following passage (written by Burckhardt, near the end of his journal, and probably intended for the Appendix,) may serve as a reply, and show that even the present inhabitants do not agree in their application of the name Hedjaz. �This,� says he, �is not used by the Arabian Bedouins in the usual acceptation of the word. They call Hedjaz exclusively the mountainous country, comprehending many fertile valleys south of Tayf, and as far as the dwelling-places of the Asyr Arabs, where the coffee-tree begins to be cultivated abundantly. This is the general application of the term among all the Bedouins of those countries; and the town�s-people of Mekka and Djidda also use it in that sense among themselves. But when they converse with foreigners, whose notions they politely adopt, the name Hedjaz is bestowed on the country between Tayf, Mekka, Medina, Yembo, and Djidda. The Bedouins give the name of El Ghor, or the low-land, to the whole province westward of the mountains from Mekka up to Beder and Yembo; while those mountains themselves northward of Tayf are called by them Hedjaz-es�- Shám, or the Northern Hedjaz.� [This would confirm the derivation of Hedjaz (mentioned by Golius) from ahhtedjezet, �quod (provincia Hhegiaz) colligata et constricta montibus sit:� but others derive it from the Arabic word yehedjez, because Hedjaz divides Nedjed from Tehama, or because it connects Yemen with Syria, between which it is situate. As even the shortest note written by Burckhardt must be considered valuable, a few lines, that immediately follow the passage above quoted from his Journal, are here given: �I compute the population of the province usually called Hedjaz, comprising the whole territory of the Sherif of Mekka, together with that of Medina and the towns situated therein, and all the Bedouin tribes, at about two hundred and fifty thousand souls; a number which, I am certain, is rather over than under rated; the greater part being the Bedouin inhabitants of the mountains, and principally the strong tribes of Beni Harb.�] [p.xi] On reference to pages 396 and 397, a remark will be found concerning the different application of this name (Hedjaz) among those who inhabit the sea-coast and those Bedouins who occupy the interior country; and it will even appear that doubts have been entertained whether the sacred city Medina does not belong rather to Nedjed than to Hedjaz. From statements so vague as those above quoted, an attempt to trace exactly the limits of any country must be vain and fallacious: that region, therefore, which borders on the Red Sea, and which the natives, we know, entitle unequivocally Hedjaz, is marked in our map, as in almost every other published hitherto, merely with that name, its first letter being placed where the editor supposes Arabia Petraea to terminate, and its last letter where he would separate Hedjaz from Tehama. [Burckhardt (Syrian Travels p. 511.) quotes Makrizi, the Egyptian historian, who says, in his chapter on Aila, (Akaba): �It is from hence that the Hedjaz begins: in former times it was the frontier place of the Greeks, &c.�] To those who seek the most accurate information respecting places but little known, this work is sufficiently recommended by the name of its author, and of the country which it describes. �The manners of the Hejazi Arabs have continued,� says Sir William Jones, �from the time of Solomon to the present age.� [Discourse on the Arabs, Asiat. Researches, vol. ii.] �Our notions of Mecca must be drawn,� says Gibbon, �from the Arabians. As no unbeliever is permitted to enter the city, our travellers are silent; and the short hints of Thevenot are taken from the suspicious mouth of an African renegado.� [Roman Empire, chap. 50. note 18.] But the reader of this preface must not be withholden from [p.xii] perusing Burckhardt�s authentic and interesting account of the places which he visited, of the extraordinary ceremonies which he witnessed, and of the people among whom he lived in the character of a Muselman. Some short notices, written on a detached leaf, but evidently intended by the author as an introduction to his Journal, are given accordingly in the next page: for, that the Arabian Travels should appear under such a form as Burckhardt himself probably wished them to assume, has been throughout a favourite object of the editor, WILLIAM OUSELY. London, January, 1829. [p.xiii] THE AUTHOR�S INTRODUCTION. IN the pages of this Journal I have frequently quoted some Arabian historians, whose works are in my possession. It is now to me a subject of regret that those manuscripts were not with me in the Hedjaz. The two first I purchased at Cairo, after my return from Arabia. These works are--l. The History of Mekka, entitled Akhbar Mekka, a thick quarto volume, by Aby el Wolyd el Azraky, who flourished in the year of the Hedjra 223, and has traced the annals of his native city down to that period. This work is particularly interesting on account of its topographical notices, and the author�s intimate acquaintance with the state of Arabia before Islám or Mohammedanism. The manuscript appears, from the hand-writing, to be six, or perhaps seven hundred years old. 2. The History of Mekka, entitled Akd e� themyn, in three folio volumes, by Taky ed' dyn el Fasy, who was himself Kadhy of Mekka. This history comes down to the year of the Hedjra 829, and is comprised [p.xiv] in the first volume; the other two volumes containing biographical anecdotes of distinguished natives of Mekka. 3. The History of the Mosque of Mekka, with which the history of the town is interwoven, called El Aalam hy aalam beled Allah el haram, in one volume quarto. The author was Kottob ed� dyn el Mekky, who held high offices at Mekka, and brings the history down to the year 990 of the Hedjra. 4. The History of the Hedjaz, and more particularly of Mekka, by Asamy. Of this chronicle I possess only the second volume, a large folio manuscript, comprising historical records from the time of the Beni Omeya, to the year (of the Hedjra) 1097. I have not been able to ascertain the title of this work, which abounds with curious and valuable information. The author, Asamy, was a native of Mekka. 5. The History of the Temple and Town of Medina. This work is entitled Khelaset el Wafa, its author was Nour ed� dyn Aly Ibn Ahmed e� Samhoudy, [To this writer Burckhardt refers in p. 323, by the letters (V.S.) �Vide Sumhoudy.�] and it is comprised in one folio volume, bringing the history down to the year 911 of the Hedjra. [p.xv] CONTENTS. Arrival at Djidda Route from Djidda to Tayf Residence at Tayf Journey to Mekka Arrival at Mekka Description of Mekka Quarters of Mekka Description of the Beitullah (or �House of God�), the great Mosque at Mekka Some Historical Notices concerning the Kaaba and the Temple of Mekka Description of several other holy places visited by pilgrims at Mekka and in its neighbourhood Remarks on the inhabitants of Mekka and Djidda Government of Mekka Climate and diseases of Mekka and Djidda The Hadj or Pilgrimage Journey from Mekka to Medina Medina Description of Medina Account of some places of Zyara, or objects of pious visitation, in the neighbourhood of Medina On the Inhabitants of Medina On the Government of Medina Climate and Diseases of Medina Journey from Medina to Yembo Yembo From Yembo to Cairo Appendix, (comprising ten articles) [p.xvi] CORRIGENDAS Page 12 for Gonfady read Gonfade. 29 Badingam Badinjan. 95 Metzem Meltezem. 109 Hareh Haret. 156 Achmed Ahhmed. 183 Moktar Mokhtar. 232 Yahyn Yahya. 446 Matsa Matfa. 462 Benezes Aenezes. The name of Kayd Beg, which frequently occurs, is sometimes spelt in the Ms. Kait Beg, and once erroneously Kail Beg. On reference to Burckhardt�s Nubian Travels, it appears that he entered Djidda on the 18th of July, and not on the 15th, as printed in the first page of this volume through a mistake of the figure 8 for 5; the ink with which he wrote having in many parts of his Journal faded considerably, and become of a pale reddish colour. As far, also, as the faded ink in some places of the Ms. allows the editor (and others who have seen it) to judge, Mekkawy is used to express a person of Mekka: in many pages of the Ms. Mekkan is distinctly written, but the Arabic derivative Mekky occurs only in the Author�s Introduction (p. xiv.) Local derivatives similar to Mekkawy occur in the various parts of Burckhardt�s works: the present volume, and his Syrian and Nubian Travels, exhibit Djiddawy, Yembawy, Kennawy, Dongolawy, Bornawy, Bedjawy, &c. from Djidda, Yembo, Kenne, Dongola, Bornou, Bedja. &c. [p.1] TRAVELS IN THE HEDJAZ OF ARABIA DJIDDA MY arrival in the Hedjaz was attended with some unfavourable circumstances. On entering the town of Djidda, in the morning of the 15th of July, 1814, I went to the house of a person on whom I had a letter of credit, delivered to me, at my departure from Cairo, in January, 1813, when I had not yet fully resolved to extend my travels into Arabia. From this person I met with a very cold reception; the letter was thought to be of too old a date to deserve notice: indeed, my ragged appearance might have rendered any one cautious how he committed himself with his correspondents, in paying me a large sum of money on their account; bills and letters of credit are, besides, often trifled with in the mutual dealings of Eastern merchants; and I thus experienced a flat refusal, accompanied, however, with an offer of lodgings in the man's house. This I accepted for the first two days, thinking that, by a more intimate acquaintance I might convince him that I was neither an adventurer nor impostor; but finding him inflexible, I removed to one of the numerous public [p.2] Khans in the town, my whole stock of money being two dollars and a few sequins, sewed up in an amulet which I wore on my arm. I had little time to make melancholy reflections upon my situation; for on the fourth day after my arrival, I was attacked by a violent fever, occasioned, probably, by indulging too freely in the fine fruits which were then in the Djidda market; an imprudence, which my abstemious diet, for the last twelve months, rendered, perhaps, less inexcusable, but certainly of worse consequence. I was for several days delirious; and nature would probably have been exhausted, had it not been for the aid of a Greek captain, my fellow passenger from Souakin. He attended me in one of my lucid intervals, and, at my request, procured a barber, or country physician, who bled me copiously, though with much reluctance, as he insisted that a potion, made up of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon, was the only remedy adapted to my case. In a fortnight after, I had sufficiently recovered to be able to walk about; but the weakness and languor which the fever had occasioned, would not yield to the damp heat of the atmosphere of the town; and I owed my complete recovery to the temperate climate of Tayf, situated in the mountains behind Mekka, where I afterwards proceeded. The Djidda market little resembled those Negro markets, where a single dollar would purchase two or three weeks� provision of dhourra and butter. The price of every thing had risen here to an unusual height, the imports from the interior of Arabia having entirely ceased, while the whole population of the Hedjaz, now increased by a Turkish army and its numerous followers, and a host of pilgrims who were daily coming in, wholly depended for its supply upon the imports from Egypt. My little stock of money was therefore spent during my illness, and before I was sufficiently recovered to walk out. The Greek captain, though he had shown himself ready to afford me the common services of humanity, was not disposed to trust to the [p.3] honour or respectability of a man whom he knew to be entirely destitute of money. I was in immediate want of a sum sufficient to defray my daily expenses, and, no other means being left to procure it, I was compelled to sell my slave: I regretted much the necessity for parting with him, as I knew he had some affection for me, and he was very desirous to remain with me. During my preceding journey he had proved himself a faithful and useful companion; and although I have since had several other slaves in my possession, I never found one equal to him. The Greek captain sold him for me, in the slave-market of Djidda, for forty-eight dollars. [This slave cost me sixteen dollars at Shendy; thus, the profits of sale on one slave defrayed almost the whole expense of the four months� journey through Nubia, which I had performed in the spring.] The present state of the Hedjaz rendered travelling through it, in the disguise of a beggar, or at least for a person of my outward appearance, impracticable; and the slow progress of my recovery made me desirous of obtaining comforts: I therefore equipped myself anew, in the dress of a reduced Egyptian gentleman, and immediately wrote to Cairo for a supply of money; but this I could hardly receive in less than three or four months. Being determined, however, to remain in the Hedjaz until the time of the pilgrimage in the following November, it became necessary for me to find the means of procuring subsistence until my funds should arrive. Had I been disappointed in all my hopes, I should then have followed the example of numbers of the poor Hadjis, even those of respectable families, who earn a daily subsistence, during their stay in the Hedjaz, by manual labour; but before I resorted to this last expedient, I thought I might try another. I had indeed brought with me a letter of introduction from Seyd Mohammed el Mahrouky, [The original characters of these and other names, both of persons and places, are given in the Index of Arabic words at the end of this volume.] the first merchant [p.4] in Cairo, to Araby Djeylany, the richest merchant of Djidda; but this I knew could be of no use, as it was not a letter of credit; and I did not present it. [I afterwards became acquainted with Djeylany, at Mekka; and what I saw of him, convinced me that I was not mistaken in the estimation I had formed of his readiness to assist a stranger.] I determined therefore, at last, to address the Pasha, Mohammed Aly, in person. He had arrived in the Hedjaz at the close of the spring of 1813, and was now resident at Tayf, where he had established the head-quarters of the army, with which he intended to attack the strongholds of the Wahabis. I had seen the Pasha several times at Cairo, before my departure for Upper Egypt; and had informed him in general terms of my travelling madness (as he afterwards jocularly termed it himself at Tayf). I should here observe that, as the merchants of Upper Egypt are in general poor, and none of them strictly honour a bill or obligation by immediate payment, I had found it necessary, during my stay there, in order to obtain a supply of money, to request my correspondent at Cairo to pay the sum which I wanted into the Pasha�s treasury, and to take an order from him upon his son, Ibrahim Pasha, then governor of Upper Egypt, to repay me the amount. Having therefore already had some money dealings with the Pasha, I thought that, without being guilty of too much effrontery, I might now endeavour to renew them in the Hedjaz, and the more so, as I knew that he had formerly expressed rather a favourable opinion of my person and pursuits. As soon, therefore, as the violence of my fever had subsided, I wrote to his physician, an Armenian of the name of Bosari, whom I had also known at Cairo, where I had heard much in his favour, and who was then with his master at Tayf. I begged him to represent my unfortunate situation to the Pasha, to inform him that my letter of credit upon Djidda had not been honoured, and to ask him whether he would accept a bill upon [p.5] my correspondent at Cairo, and order his treasurer at Djidda to pay the amount of it. Although Tayf is only five days distant from Djidda, yet the state of the country was such, that private travellers seldom ventured to cross the mountains between Mekka and Tayf; and caravans, which carried the letters of the people of the country, departed only at intervals of from eight to ten days; I could not, therefore, expect an answer to my letter in less than twenty days. During this period I passed my leisure hours at Djidda, in transcribing the journal of my travels in Nubia; but I felt the heat at this season so oppressive, especially in my weak state, that, except during a few hours early in the morning, I found no ease but in the cool shade of the great gateway of the Khan in which I lodged; where I passed the greater part of the day, stretched upon a stone bench. Bosari�s correspondent at Djidda, through whom I had sent my letter to Tayf, had meanwhile mentioned my name to Yahya Effendi, the physician of Tousoun Pasha, son of Mohammed Aly, now governor of Djidda, who had been in Upper Egypt while I was there, but I had not seen him. This physician, when at Cairo, had heard my name mentioned as that of a traveller; and understanding now, that I came from the Black countries, he was curious to see me, and desired Bosari�s friend to introduce me to him. He received me politely, invited me repeatedly to his house, and, in the course of further explanation, became acquainted with my wants, and the steps I had taken to relieve them. He happened at this time to be preparing for a journey to Medina with Tousoun Pasha, and was sending back all his unnecessary baggage to Cairo; with this he was also desirous to transmit to his family his last year�s savings, amounting to three thousand piastres (about 100l.), and he was so kind as to offer me the money for a bill upon Cairo, payable at sight; an advantage which, he well knew, the merchants of Djidda never insure to those who take their bills. Such an offer would not be considered as conferring [p.6] any obligation in the commercial towns of Europe; but in the East, and under the circumstances in which I was placed, it was extraordinary. Yahya Effendi added, that some of his friends had given me a flattering character while at Cairo, and that he could not, therefore, entertain the slightest doubt of my solvency and respectability, in which opinion he had been confirmed on reading the letter of credit I had brought with me. As the issue of my application to the Pasha at Tayf was uncertain, I readily and gratefully accepted Yahya�s proposal; the money was immediately paid to me, the bills drawn, and a few days after, my obliging friend departed with Tousoun Pasha for Medina, where I had the pleasure of seeing him again early in the following year. I was now in possession of a sum sufficient to banish all apprehension of suffering from poverty before the arrival of fresh supplies from Egypt, whatever might be the consequence of my application to the Pasha; but Yahya Effendi was no sooner gone, than I received a somewhat favourable answer to the letter I had written to Tayf. Bosari, it appeared, had been rather unwilling to urge my request to the Pasha, afraid, perhaps, that he might himself become a sufferer, should I forfeit my word. The Pasha, however, had heard of my being at Djidda, through another person in his suite, whom I had seen there, and who had arrived at Tayf; and hearing that I was walking about in rags, he immediately despatched a messenger, with two dromedaries, to the collector of customs at Djidda, Seyd Aly Odjakly, in whose hands was the management of all the affairs of the town, with an order to furnish me a suit of clothes, and a purse of five hundred piastres as travelling money; accompanied with a request that I should repair immediately to Tayf, with the same messenger who had brought the letter. In a postscript, Seyd Aly Odjakly was enjoined to order the messenger to take me by the upper road to Tayf, which leaves Mekka to the south, the lower and more usual road passing through the middle of that town. [p.7] The invitation of a Turkish Pasha is a polite command; whatever, therefore, might be my reluctance to go at this time to Tayf, I could not avoid, under the present circumstances, complying with the Pasha�s wishes; and, notwithstanding the secret aversion I had to receive a present at his hands instead of a loan, I could not refuse to accept the clothes and money, without hurting the pride and exciting the resentment of a chief, whose good graces it was now my principal aim to conciliate. [Some persons, perhaps, consider it an honour to receive presents from Pashas; but I think differently. I know that the real motive of a Turk in making presents, is either to get double the value in return, (which could not be the case with me,) or to gratify his own pride in showing to his courtiers that he deigns to be liberal towards a person whom he holds infinitely below him in station or worth. I have often witnessed the sneers of the donor and his people on making such presents; and their sentiments are sometimes expressed by the saying, �Look, he has thrown a morsel to this dog!� Few Europeans may, perhaps, agree with me in this respect, but my knowledge authorises me to form this opinion; and the only advice which I can give to travellers who would not lower themselves in the estimation of Turkish grandees, is to be always ready, on similar occasions, to return the supposed favour two-fold. As for myself, I had but seldom occasion to make presents during my travels; and this was the only one that I was ever obliged to accept.] I likewise understood the meaning of the postscript, although Seyd Aly was not aware of it; but, on this point, I flattered myself I should be a match for the Pasha and his people. As the invitation was very pressing, I left Djidda in the evening of the same day on which the messenger arrived, after supping with Seyd Aly, in company with a great number of Hadjis from all parts of the world; for the fast of Ramadhan had already commenced, and during this month everybody displays as much hospitality and splendour as he possibly can, particularly in the supper after sun-set. Distrusting in some measure the Pasha�s intentions, I thought it necessary to carry a full purse to Tayf; I therefore changed the whole of the three thousand piastres which I had received from Yahya Effendi into gold, and put it in my girdle. A person who has money has little to fear among Osmanlis, [p.8] except the loss of it; but I thought that I might stand in need of what I had, either as a bribe, or to facilitate my departure from Tayf. I was, however, fortunately mistaken in both these conjectures. I shall add here some remarks on Djidda and its inhabitants. The town is built upon a slightly rising ground, the lowest side of which is washed by the sea. Along the shore it extends in its greatest length for about fifteen hundred paces, while the breadth is no where more than half that space. It is surrounded on the land-side by a wall, in a tolerable state of repair, but of no strength. It had been constructed only a few years since by the joint labours of the inhabitants themselves, who were sensible that they possessed no protection against the Wahabis in the ancient half-ruined wall, built, A.H. 917, by Kansoue el Ghoury, Sultan of Egypt. [See Kotobeddin, History of Mekka.] The present structure is a sufficient barrier against Arabs, who have no artillery. At every interval of forty or fifty paces, the wall is strengthened by watch- towers, with a few rusty guns. A narrow ditch was also carried along its whole extent, to increase the means of defence; and thus Djidda enjoys, in Arabia, the reputation of being an impregnable fortress. On the sea- shore, in front of the town, the ancient wall remains, but in a state of decay. At the northern extremity, near the spot where the new wall is washed by the sea, stands the Governor�s residence; and at the southern extremity is a small castle, mounting eight or ten guns. There is, besides, a battery, to guard the entrance from the side of the sea, and command the whole harbour. Here is mounted an immense old piece of ordnance, which carries a ball of five hundred pounds, and is so celebrated all over the Red Sea, that the very fame of it is a protection to Djidda. The approach into the town from the sea is by two quays, where small boats discharge the cargoes of the large ships, these being obliged to [p.9] anchor in the roadstead, about two miles from shore; none but the vessels called say, (the smallest that navigate the Red Sea,) approaching close to the shore. The quays are shut every evening about sunset; thus all communication is prevented, at night, between the town and the shipping. On the land side Djidda has two gates; the Báb Mekka on the east side, and Báb el Medina on the north. A small gate in the south wall has lately been filled up. The area inclosed by the new wall (about three thousand paces in circuit) and the sea, is not entirely covered with buildings. A broad piece of open ground extends the whole length of the interior of the wall; and there is, besides, a good deal of waste ground near the Báb el Medina, and on the southern extremity. Having traversed this open space in coming from the gate, you enter the suburbs, comprising only huts formed of reeds, rushes, and brushwood, and encircling the inner town, which consists of stone buildings. The huts are chiefly inhabited by Bedouins, or poor peasants and labourers, who live here completely after the Bedouin fashion. Similar quarters for people of this description may be found in every town of Arabia. The interior of Djidda is divided into different districts. The people of Sowakin, who frequent this place, reside near the Báb el Medina; their quarters are called Haret è Sowakiny. Here they live in a few poor houses, but principally under huts, to which the lowest class of people frequently resort, as many public women reside here, and those who sell the intoxicating beverage called Boosa. The most respectable inhabitants have their quarters near the sea, where a long street, running parallel to the shore, appears lined with shops, and affords many khans constantly and exclusively frequented by the merchants. Djidda is well built; indeed, better than any Turkish town of equal size that I had hitherto seen. The streets are unpaved, but spacious and airy; the houses high, constructed wholly of stone, brought for the greater part from the sea-shore, and consisting of madrepores and other marine [p.10] fossils. Almost every house has two stories, with many small windows and wooden shutters. Some have bow-windows, which exhibit a great display of joiners� or carpenters� work. There is, generally, a spacious hall at the entrance, where strangers are received, and which, during the heat of the day, is cooler than any other part of the house, as its floor is kept almost constantly wet. The distribution of rooms is nearly the same as in the houses of Egypt and Syria; with this difference, however, that in Djidda there are not so many large and lofty apartments as in those countries, where but few houses, at least of the natives, have two stories, whilst the rooms on the ground-floor are sometimes of a considerable height. It thus happens that, in many houses of the Hedjaz, the only cool spot is the entrance-hall; and here, at noon, the master, with all his male attendants, hired servants or slaves, may be seen enjoying, the siesta. [Although the cool breeze comes only from the north, yet the Arabians do not seem to take so much advantage of it in their houses as the Egyptians, whose principal rooms are generally so contrived as to open towards the north. The large ventilators constructed on the terraces of houses in Egypt, and which diffuse a current of air through all the lower apartments, are unknown in the Hedjaz.] As building is very expensive in this country, little is adapted for outward show beyond the lattice-work of the bow-windows; this frequently is painted with most gaudy colours, both on the outside and inside. In many houses the lawful wife of a man occupies one part, and his female Abyssinian slaves are lodged in their own distinct apartments; convenience, therefore, in the building, is more studied than size or beauty; yet, in Egypt, many ordinary houses have spacious and handsome rooms. Uniformity in architecture is not observed at Djidda. Some houses are built with small, others with large square stones, the smooth side outwards, and the interior filled up with mud. Sometimes the walls are entirely of stone; many have, at intervals of about three feet, thin layers of planks placed in the wall, and these, the [p.11] Arabs imagine, tend to increase its strength. When the walls are plastered, the wood is left of its natural colour, which gives to the whole a gay and pleasing appearance, as if the building had been ornamented with so many bands; but the dazzling white of the walls during sun-shine is extremely distressing to the eyes. Most of the gateways have pointed arches; some few round; and the latter are seen, though less frequently, over the gates of private houses in every part of Egypt. No buildings of ancient date are observed in Djidda, the madrepore being of such a nature that it rapidly decays when exposed to the rain and moist atmosphere prevalent here. [In general, it may be said that Djidda is a modern town; for its importance as a market of Indian goods can only be traced to the beginning of the fifteenth century, although it had been known in the most ancient times of Arabian history as the harbour of Mekka.] Besides many small mosques, there are two of considerable size: one of these was built by Sherif Serour, predecessor of the last reigning Sherif Ghaleb. The Governor�s habitation, in which the Sherif himself frequently resided, is a paltry building; such, likewise, is that in which dwells the collector of the customs. There are some well-built public khans in the town, with good accommodation, where the foreign merchants reside during their short stay here. In these khans are large open squares with arched passages, which afford a cool shade to the merchants for the greater part of the day. Except during the monsoon, when Djidda is extremely crowded with people, private lodgings may easily be procured in the most distant quarters of the town. The best private dwellings of Djidda belong to the great mercantile establishment of Djeylani, who, with his family, occupies a small square behind the principal street. This square is composed of three large buildings, the most commodious and costly private houses in all the Hedjaz. Every house of moderate size has its cistern; but as the rains are not sufficiently regular or abundant to fill the cisterns from the tops of the houses, (as [p.12] throughout Syria,) they are often supplied with water from pools formed outside of the town in rainy seasons. Of these cisterns, the water is very inadequate to the consumption of Djidda, and is reckoned a delicacy. Much of the drinking water is drawn from some wells a mile and a half distant on the southern side; water, indeed, may be found every where at a depth of fifteen feet, but it is generally of a bad taste, and in some places scarcely drinkable. Two only of the wells afford water that can be called sweet; but even this is considered heavy, [Heavy and light, applied to water, are expressions common in most languages of the East, where both natives and foreigners, from the vast quantity which they consume, become more refined in their taste regarding it than the people of our northern climates.] and, if suffered to stand twenty-four hours in a vessel, it becomes full of insects. The good water of these two wells being scarce and dear, cannot always be procured without the assistance of powerful friends; in fact, not more than from two to three hundred persons are ever able to obtain it, while the rest of the inhabitants must content themselves with the water supplied by other wells; and to this the constant ill-health of the people may chiefly be ascribed. As Djidda has the name of a Turkish fortress, we might suppose that the wells would have been protected by a fort; but the Turks have neglected this precaution, and when, in December, 1814, the people apprehended that the Wahabis were advancing on the side of Gonfady, the Governor of Djidda, in great haste, filled the few cisterns belonging to the government houses with water from the wells, and for several days withheld that necessary of life from all the inhabitants, as every water-camel was employed by him. Several of the wells are private property, and yield to their owners a considerable income. The town of Djidda is without gardens, or vegetation of any kind except a few date-trees adjoining one of the mosques; even outside the town the whole country is a barren desert, covered [p.13] on the sea-shore with a saline earth, and higher up with sand: here are found some shrubs and a few low acacia trees. The number of wells around the town might be considerably augmented, and water obtained for the purposes of irrigation; but the inhabitants of Djidda consider their residence as merely temporary, and, like all the other people of the Hedjaz, devote their whole attention to commerce and the acquisition of riches: on this account they are much less inclined to rural enjoyments or occupations than any other race of Moslems that I ever saw. Beyond the Báb Mekka, and close to the town, are several huts, through the midst of which lies the road to Mekka. These huts are inhabited by the camel-drivers who traffic between that city and Djidda; by poor Bedouins, who earn a livelihood by cutting wood at a considerable distance in the mountains; and by Negro Hadjis, who adopt the same means of supporting themselves during their stay at Djidda. Here is held the market for live cattle, wood and charcoal, fruits and vegetables in wholesale. Coffee also is sold in many booths in this place, frequented for a short time, at an early hour, by the inferior class of merchants, who resort hither to learn the news from Mekka, whence the post arrives every morning soon after sunrise. About a mile beyond these huts, eastward of the town, is the principal burial-ground, containing the tombs of several sheikhs; but there are smaller cemeteries within the walls. About two miles northward of the town, is shown the tomb of Howa (Eve), the mother of mankind; it is, as I was informed, a rude structure of stone, about four feet in length, two or three feet in height, and as many in breadth; thus resembling the tomb of Noah, seen in the valley of Bekaa, in Syria. During the predominance of the Wahabis, Djidda had been in a declining state; many of its buildings had gone to ruin; no one constructed a new house; trade was much depressed, in consequence of the pilgrimage from Turkey having been discontinued, and the unwillingness of the merchants to bring their goods hither [p.14] for sale. Since the recovery of the holy cities, however, and the re-establishment of the pilgrimage, together with the daily arrival of soldiers, and a number of merchants and followers of the army, the town has quickly recovered its former condition, and is now as flourishing as at any former period. The number of its inhabitants may be estimated, generally, at from twelve to fifteen thousand; but in the months preceding the pilgrimage, and again during the summer months corresponding with the monsoon winds, there is a great influx of strangers, which increases the above number perhaps one-half. The inhabitants of Djidda, like those of Mekka and Medina, are almost exclusively foreigners. The descendants of the ancient Arabs who once peopled the town, have perished by the hands of the governors, or have retired to other countries. Those who can be truly called natives are only a few families of sherifs, who are all learned men, and attached to the mosques or the courts of justice; all the other Djiddawys (people of Ddjidda) are foreigners or their descendants. Of the latter, those from Hadramaut and Yemen are the most numerous: colonies from every town and province of those countries are settled in Djidda, and keep up an active commerce with their native places. Upwards of a hundred Indian families (chiefly from Surat, and a few from Bombay,) have also established themselves here; and to these may be added some Malays and people of Maskat. The settlers from Egypt, Syria, Barbary, European Turkey, and Anatolia, may be still recognised in the features of their descendants, who are all mixed in one general mass, and live and dress in the same Arab manner. The Indians alone remain a distinct race in manners, dress, and employment. There are no Christians settled in Djidda; but a few Greeks from the islands of the Archipelago occasionally bring merchandize to this market from Egypt. In the time of the sherifs they were much molested, compelled to wear a particular dress, and prohibited from approaching the Mekka gate; but the Turks having become [p.15] masters of the Hedjaz, abolished these restrictions, and a Christian now enjoys complete liberty here: if he dies, he is not buried on shore, (this being sanctified ground, belonging to the holy city,) but upon some one of the small islands in the bay of Djidda. Jews were formerly the brokers of this town; but they were driven out, about thirty or forty years since, by Serour, the predecessor of Ghaleb, some of them having offended by their misconduct. They all retired to Yemen or to Sanaa. During the monsoons some Banians visit Djidda in the Indian ships; but they always return with them, and none are settled here. The mixture of races in Djidda is an effect of the pilgrimage, during which rich merchants visit the Hedjaz with large adventures of goods: some of these not being able immediately to settle their accounts, wait till another year; during this period, they cohabit, according to the custom of the country, with some Abyssinian slaves, whom they soon marry; finding themselves at last with a family, they are induced to settle in the country. Thus every pilgrimage adds fresh numbers to the population not only of Djidda, but of Mekka also, which is indeed very necessary, as in both towns the number of deaths is far greater than that of births. The people of Djidda are almost entirely engaged in commerce, and pursue no manufactures or trades but those of immediate necessity. They are all either sea-faring people, traders by sea, or engaged in the traffic with Arabia. Djidda derives its opulence not only from being the port of Mekka, but it may be considered as that of Egypt, of India, and of Arabia; all the exports of those countries destined for Egypt first passing through the hands of the Djidda merchants. Hence, it is probably richer than any town of the same size in the Turkish dominions. Its Arabian name, which means �rich,� is therefore perfectly well bestowed. The two greatest merchants in the place, Djeylany and Sakkat, both of Maggrebin [Maggrebin, �inhabitants of the West,� is the name given by all the Eastern Arabs to the natives of the Barbary States.] [p.16] origin, and whose grandfathers first settled here, are known to possess from one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand pounds sterling. Several Indians have acquired capitals nearly equal, and there are upwards of a dozen houses possessing from forty to fifty thousand pounds sterling. Wholesale trade is carried on here with greater facility and profit, and with less intrigue and fraud, than any where I have seen in the Levant; the principal reason of which is, that almost all the bargains are made for ready money, very little or no credit being given. This, however, is not to be understood as implying any thing favourable to the character of the merchants, who are as notorious for their bad faith as they are for their large fortunes; but the nature of the trade, and the established usage, render it a less troublesome and intriguing business here than in any other country of the East. The commerce of Djidda may be divided into two principal branches--the coffee trade, and the Indian trade; with both of which that of Egypt is connected. Ships laden with coffee arrive from Yemen all the year round, without being restricted to any particular season. During the voyage, they sail constantly near the coast, and are thus enabled to take advantage of the land breezes during the season when no[r]therly winds prevail, and render the voyage difficult in mid-channel. They dispose of their cargoes for dollars, which are almost the only article that the merchants of Yemen take in return. The coffee trade is liable to great fluctuations, and may be considered a species of lottery, in which those only embark who have large capitals at their command, and who can bear occasionally great losses. The price of coffee at Djidda, being regulated by the advices from Cairo, varies almost with the arrival of every ship from Suez. The price at the latter place depending upon the demand for Mocha coffee in Turkey, is thus equally fluctuating. When I arrived at Djidda, coffee-beans were at thirty-five dollars a hundred- weight; three weeks after they fell to twenty-four dollars, in consequence of the [p.17] peace between England and America, and the expectation that West- India coffee would be again imported in large quantities at Smyrna and Constantinople. From the hazardous nature of this trade, there are many merchants who will not engage in it, except as agents; others send the coffee on their own account to Cairo, where the chief part of the trade is in the hands of the Hedjaz merchants residing there. Within the last six years, the coffee trade between Arabia and the Mediterranean has suffered greatly by the importation of West-India coffee into the ports of Turkey. These were formerly supplied exclusively with Mocha coffee; the use of which has been almost entirely superseded in European Turkey, Asia Minor, and Syria, by that of the West Indies. The Pasha of Egypt, however, has hitherto strictly prohibited the importation of West-India coffee into his dominions. The trade in India goods is much safer, and equally profitable. The fleets, principally from Calcutta, Surat, and Bombay, reach Djidda in the beginning of May, when they find the merchants already prepared for them, having collected as many dollars and sequins as their circumstances admit, that they may effect bargains in wholesale at the very first arrival of the ships. Large sums are also sent hither by the Cairo merchants to purchase goods on their account; but the cargoes for the greater part are bought up by the merchants of Djidda, who afterwards send them to Cairo to be sold for their own advantage. The India fleets return in June or July, when the prices of every article brought by them immediately rise; [The ships from Bengal leave Djidda in June, those from Surat and Bombay in July or the beginning of August. The Maskat and Bassora shipping, and the slave vessels from the Mozambique coast, arrive at the same time.] and it commonly occurs that, on the very day when the last ships sail, ten per cent. profit may be obtained upon the first price. The merchants, however, unless pressed for money, do not sell at this time, but keep their goods in warehouses for four or five [p.18] months, during which the price continues to rise; so that if they choose to wait till the January or February following, they may calculate with great security upon a gain of from thirty to forty per cent; and if they transport a part of their goods to Mekka for sale to the Hadj, their profits are still greater. It is the nature of this commerce that renders Djidda so crowded during the stay of the fleet. People repair hither from every port on the Red Sea, to purchase at the first hand; and the merchants of Mekka, Yembo, and Djidda, scrape together every dollar they possess, to lay them out in these purchases. [Some time after the Indian fleet had sailed from Djidda, I was present when a merchant of great property and respectability called upon an acquaintance of mine to borrow one hundred dollars, saying, he had laid out every farthing of his money in India goods which he did not wish yet to sell, and had, in the mean while, no money left for his daily expenses. This occurs, I understood, very frequently among them.] Another cause of the India trade with Djidda being more safe and profitable is, the arrival of the merchant-ships but once in the year, at a stated period, and all within a few weeks: there is, therefore, nothing to spoil the market; the price of goods is settled according to the known demand and quantity of imports; and it is never known to fall till the return of the next fleet. In the coffee trade it was the reverse. In Syria and Egypt it is the work of several days, and the business of three or four brokers, to conclude a bargain between two merchants to the amount of a thousand dollars. At Djidda sales and purchases are made of entire ships� cargoes in the course of half an hour, and the next day the money is paid down. The greater part of the merchandize thus bought is shipped for Suez, and sold at Cairo, whence it finds its way into the Mediterranean. The returns are made either in goods, which are disposed of chiefly in the Hedjaz, or in dollars and sequins, large quantities of which are carried off annually by the Indian fleet: this principally causes the scarcity of silver in Egypt. The coffee ships [p.19] from Yemen take a few articles of Egyptian manufacture in return, as Mellayes, (blue-striped cotton cloths,) linen stuff's for shirts, and glass beads; but their chief sales are mostly for cash. If Suez were to participate in the direct Indian trade, the present flourishing state of Djidda would, no doubt, be greatly diminished, and the town would become merely what its position renders it, the harbour of the Hedjaz, instead of being, as it now is, the port of Egypt. It was natural that the sherifs of Mekka, who had the customs in their own hands, should endeavour, by every means in their power, to make Djidda an emporium for the Indian trade, the custom-duties on which formed the principle source of their income. Suez, however, is not a place where large capitals are always found ready to make purchases; even Cairo could not, at least immediately, engage in this trade with advantage, were it transferred to Suez; for, according to old customs, from which Orientals seldom like to depart, ready money is almost unknown in the commercial transactions of that city; India goods are in consequence never sold there except at very long credit. Undoubtedly cash might in time have found its way to Suez, as it now does to Djidda; but the channel of trade was such, that a fleet of ships coming direct from India to Suez, would hardly have been able to dispose of their cargoes either with profit or within due time. Another cause also contributed to favour the harbour of Djidda: the India ships, although most of them sail under the English flag, are entirely manned and commanded by the people of the country, Arabs and Lascars; [No English captain had been at Djidda for five years, when, in 1814, the Resoul, Captain Boag, from Bombay, arrived laden with rice. The ships are not navigated by Englishmen, and very few English merchants resident in India have ever speculated in the trade of the Red Sea, which is carried on almost exclusively with the capitals of Muselman merchants of Djidda, Maskat, Bombay, Surat, and Calcutta. The Americans seldom visit any other harbour in this sea than that of Mekka.] and they have adopted the same coasting navigation that is followed in every part of the Red [p.20] Sea. They never venture out to sea, and must, therefore, necessarily pass Djidda and Yembo, both harbours of the Sherif, who could easily oblige them to anchor in his ports and pay duties, as he is known to have done with many coffee ships bound direct for Suez from Yemen. These causes, however, no longer exist; for Mohammed Aly, Pasha of Egypt, having possession of the harbours and custom-houses of the Hedjaz, might transfer the customs of Djidda to Suez, and thence open a direct communication with India. The chief obstacles to such a change which have hitherto presented themselves, are the jealousy and false representations of the merchants of Djidda, and the Pasha�s ignorance of his own real interests, added perhaps to the fear of displeasing his sovereign; he has it, notwithstanding, in contemplation to change the system, after the example of a very respectable English house at Alexandria, which had, in concert with its correspondents at Bombay, in 1812, when the Hedjaz was not yet in the Pasha�s hands, concluded a treaty with him for allowing English ships to come direct to Suez, and for insuring the protection of merchandize across the Desert to Cairo. The reports of the Wahabi war, and of hostile cruisers in the Red Sea, prevented the merchants from taking advantage of the treaty till 1815, when a large ship was despatched from Bombay to Suez. The Pasha, however, who was at Mekka when she touched at Djidda, in direct violation of his engagements, stopped the ship, prohibited her proceeding to Suez, compelled the captain to sell the cargo at a loss, while the plague was raging in the town, and exacted the same duties as are taken on country ships, in contravention of the stipulations existing between Great Britain and the Porte. This affair, which created great disgust amongst the Europeans in Egypt, might easily have been remedied by retaliation upon the Pasha�s ships trading to Malta, which would have taught him to respect the British flag wherever he might meet it. The British officers, however, from an erroneous conception perhaps of his power and [p.21] importance, and from a wish to remain upon a friendly footing with him, instead of evincing any displeasure, preferred submitting silently to the outrage; forgetting that the favour of a Turkish ruler can never be bought by conciliation, but can only be obtained by an attitude of defiance. In consequence of all this, the merchants were obliged to make a second treaty with the Pasha, which was formally ratified. His first demand was, that the ships should pay at Suez the joint customs of that port and Djidda, which would have been equivalent to about 12 per cent.; but he contented himself, at last, with a promise of 9 per cent. upon all imports into Suez from India, which was six per cent. more than the usual duty paid by European merchants in the ports of the Grand Signior. This arrangement, it is supposed, will lead to the opening of an active trade. The Pasha himself is disposed to speculate on his own account; and the first adventure he sent to Bombay, in the spring of 1816, was to bring him, in return, a richly caparisoned elephant, destined as a present to his sovereign at Constantinople. Still, however, I am afraid he will as little respect the second treaty as he did the first; for his avarice, if not effectually checked, knows no bounds, and he can at any time exact additional imposts, as far as the profits of this new commercial route can bear them, by threatening the security of the road from Suez to Cairo, the Bedouins of the neighbouring Desert being completely at his command. The former master of Djidda, Sherif Ghaleb, was actively engaged in the Indian trade; he had two ships, of four hundred tons each, employed in it, besides many smaller vessels in the coffee trade to Yemen; indeed, he was a shrewd speculator in all branches of the Red Sea trade. He oppressed the merchants of Djidda by heavy duties and his own powerful competition; but he was never known to practise extortion upon them. If he borrowed money, he repaid it at the stipulated time, and never ventured to levy extraordinary contributions from individuals, although he did [p.22] it from the whole community, by increasing the duties in an arbitrary manner. It was the well-known security which property enjoyed under his government that induced foreign merchants to visit the port of Djidda, even when Ghaleb was reduced to great distress by the Wahabis. His conduct, however, in this respect, was not caused by any love of justice, for he governed most despotically; but he well knew that, if the merchants should be frightened away, his town would sink into insignificance. Towards the close of his government, the duty upon coffee was increased by him from two and a half to five dollars per quintal, or to about fifteen per cent. The duty upon India goods was from six to ten per cent., according to their quality. If Ghaleb could not immediately sell the coffee or India goods imported on his account, he distributed the cargoes of his ships among the native merchants of the place at the current market-price, in quantities proportioned to the supposed property of each merchant, who was thus forced to become a purchaser for ready money. In this respect Ghaleb was not singular; for in Egypt the present Pasha frequently distributes his coffee among the merchants; with this difference, however, from the practice of Ghaleb, that the price which he exacts is always above the real market-price. Business in Djidda is conducted through the intervention of brokers, who are for the most part Indians of small property and bad reputations. The number of ships belonging to Djidda is very great. Taking into account all the small vessels employed in the Red Sea trade, two hundred and fifty perhaps may be calculated as belonging either to merchants of the town, or to owners, who navigate them, and who consider the port as their principal home. The different names given to these ships, as Say, Seume, Merkeb, Sambouk, Dow, denote their size; the latter only, being the largest, perform the voyage to India. The ships are navigated chiefly by people from Yemen, from the Somawly coast (opposite to Aden, [p.23] between Abyssinia and Cape Guardafui,) and by slaves, of which latter three or four are generally found in every ship. The crew receive a certain sum for the voyage, and every sailor is, at the same time, a petty trader on his own account; this is another cause of the resort of foreigners to Djidda during the trade winds, for persons with the smallest capitals can purchase goods in retail, at the first hand, from the crews of these ships. No vessels of any kind are now constructed at Djidda, so scarce has timber become; indeed, it is with difficulty that means are found to repair a ship. Yembo is subject to the same inconvenience. Suez, Hadeyda, and Mokha, are the only harbours in the Red Sea where ships are built. The timber used at Suez is transported thither overland from Cairo, and comes originally from the coast of Asia Minor: The canvas used all over the Red Sea is of Egyptian manufacture. The cordage is of the date-tree. Ships coming from the East Indies have cordage made of the cocoa-nut tree, of which a quantity is also brought for sale. That employed at Hadeyda and Mokha comes partly from Yemen, and partly from the African coast. Many ships are purchased at Bombay and Maskat; but those built at Suez are most common in the sea north of Yemen. There has been a great want of shipping at Djidda during the last three years, as the Pasha had seized a great number of ships, and obliged their owners to transport provisions, ammunition, and baggage, from Egypt to the Hedjaz, for which he pays a very low freight. During my stay at Djidda, scarcely a day passed without some arrival by sea, chiefly from Yembo and Cosseir; and there were constantly forty or fifty ships in the harbour. An officer, entitled Emir al Bahhr, acts as harbour-master, and takes from each ship a certain sum for anchorage. This was an office of considerable dignity in the time of the sherif, but it has now sunk into insignificance. I was somewhat surprised to find that, in so well-frequented a port as Djidda, there were no pleasure-boats of any kind in the harbour, nor even any regular public boatmen; but I learned that this proceeded from the jealousy [p.24] of the custom-house officers, who forbid all craft of this description, and even insist that the ships� boats should return to the ships after sunset. Djidda carries on no trade by land, except with Medina and Mekka. A caravan departs for Medina once in forty or fifty days, principally with India goods and drugs, and is always augmented by a crowd of pilgrims who wish to visit Mohammed�s tomb. These caravans consist of from sixty to one hundred camels, and are conducted by the Harb Bedouins. The intercourse, however, between Djidda and Medina is more commonly carried on by the intermediate route of Yembo, whither merchandize is sent by sea. Besides the caravans above mentioned, others depart for Mekka almost every evening, and at least twice a week, with goods and provisions; and during the four months preceding the Hadj, when every ship that arrives brings pilgrims to Djidda, this intercourse farther increases, and caravans then set out regularly from the gate called Báb Mekka every evening after sunset. The loaded camels take two nights to perform the journey, resting midway at Hadda during the day; but, in addition to these, a small caravan of asses, lightly laden, starts also every evening, and performs the journey of fifteen or sixteen hours in one night, arriving regularly at Mekka early in the morning. [When camels abound, the hire of one from Djidda to Mekka is from twenty to twenty- five piastres. In time of scarcity, or at the approach of the Hadj, from sixty to seventy piastres are paid. During my stay, the hire of an ass from Djidda to Mekka was twenty piastres. These prices would be considered enormous in any other part of the Levant. Only fifteen piastres are paid for a camel from Cairo to Suez, which is double the distance between Djidda and Mekka.] It is by the ass-caravan that letters are conveyed between the two towns. In time of peace, caravans are occasionally met with on the sea-coast, towards Yemen, and the interior of Tehama, to Mokhowa, whence corn is imported. (V. Appendix on the Geography of the Hedjaz.) The following enumeration of the different shops in the principal commercial street of Djidda, may throw some light on the [p.25] trade of the town, as well as on the mode of living of its inhabitants. The shops (as in all parts of Turkey) are raised several feet above ground, and have before them, projecting into the street, a stone bench, on which purchasers seat themselves; this is sheltered from the sun by an awning usually made of mats fastened to high poles. Many of the shops are only six or seven feet wide in front; the depth is generally from ten to twelve feet, with a small private room or magazine behind. There are twenty-seven coffee-shops. Coffee is drunk to excess in the Hedjaz; it is not uncommon for persons to drink twenty or thirty cups in one day, and the poorest labourer never takes less than three or four cups. In a few of the shops may be had keshre, made from the skin of the bean, which is scarcely inferior in flavour to that made from the bean itself. One of the shops is frequented by those who smoke the hashysh, or a preparation of hemp-flowers mixed with tobacco, which produces a kind of intoxication. Hashysh is still more used in Egypt, especially among the peasants. [Of the hemp-flowers, they use for this purpose the small leaves standing round the seed, (called sheranek.) The common people put a small quantity of them upon the top of the tobacco with which their pipes are filled. The higher classes eat it in a jelly or paste (maadjoun) made in the following manner:--a quantity of the leaves is boiled with butter for several hours, and then put under a press; the juice so expressed is mixed with honey and other sweet drugs, and publicly sold in Egypt, where shops are kept for that purpose. The Hashysh paste is politely termed bast, and those who sell it basty (i.e. cheerfulness). On the occasion of a festival to celebrate the marriage of a son of one of the principal grandees at Cairo, when all the different crafts of the town were represented in a showy procession, the basty, although exercising a business prohibited and condemned by the law, was among the most gaudy. Many persons of the first rank use the bast in some shape or other; it exhilarates the spirits, and raises the imagination as violently as opium. Some persons also mix the paste with seeds of the Bendj, which comes from Syria.] In all these shops the Persian pipe is smoked, of which there [p.26] are three different sorts. 1. The Kedra, which is the largest, and rests upon a tripod; it is always neatly worked, and found only in private houses. 2. The Shishe (called in Syria Argyle), of a smaller size, but, like the former, joined to a long serpentine tube (called lieh), through which the smoke is inhaled. 3. The Bury. This consists of an unpolished cocoa-nut shell, which contains water; a thick reed answers the purpose of the serpentine tube: this pipe is the constant companion of the lower classes, and of all the sailors of the Red Sea, who indulge most inordinately in using it. The tobacco smoked in the two former of these pipes comes from the Persian gulf; the best is from Shiraz. An inferior sort (called tombak) comes from Basra and Baghdad; the leaf is of a light yellow colour, and much stronger in taste than common tobacco; it is, therefore, previously washed to render it milder. The tombak used in the Bury comes from Yemen, and is of the same species as the other, but of an inferior quality. The trade in this article is very considerable, its consumption in the Hedjaz being almost incredibly great; large quantities are also shipped for Egypt. The common pipe is little used in the Hedjaz, except by Turkish soldiers and Bedouins. The tobacco is of Egyptian growth, or from Sennar, whence it is carried to Sowakin. Very little good Syrian tobacco finds its way across the Red Sea. The coffee-houses are filled with people during the whole day; and in front a shed is generally erected, under which persons also sit. The rooms, benches, and small low chairs, are very filthy, and form a contrast to the neatness and elegance observable in the coffee-houses of Damascus. Respectable merchants are never seen in a coffee-house; but those of the third class, and sea-faring people, make it their constant resort. Every person has his particular house, where he meets those who have business with him. An Arab, who cannot afford to ask his friend to dine, invites him from the coffee-house, when he sees him pass, to enter and take [p.27] a cup, and is highly offended if the invitation be rejected. When his friend enters, he orders the waiter to bring him a cup, and the waiter, in presenting it, exclaims aloud, so that every one in the place may hear him, djebba! (gratis). An Arab may cheat his creditors, or be guilty of bad faith in his dealings, and yet escape public censure; but he would be covered with infamy, if it were known that he had attempted to cheat the coffee-house waiter of his due. The Turkish soldiers have done their utmost in this respect to increase the contempt in which they are held by the Arabs. I never saw in the coffee-houses of the Hedjaz any of those story-tellers who are so common in Egypt, and still more in Syria. The Mangal [See Niebuhr�s Travels.] is generally played in all of them, and the Dama, �a kind of draughts,� differing somewhat from the European game; but I never happened to see chess played in the Hedjaz, though I heard that it is not uncommon, and that the sherifs in particular are fond of it. Near to almost every coffee-shop a person takes his stand, who sells cooled water in small perfumed jars. [The Orientals often drink water before coffee, but never immediately after. I was once recognised in Syria as a foreigner or European, in consequence of having called for water just after I had taken coffee. �If you were of this country ,� said the waiter, �you would not spoil the taste of the coffee in your mouth by washing it away with water.�] Twenty-one butter-sellers, who likewise retail honey, oil, and vinegar. Butter forms the chief article in Arab cookery, which is more greasy than even that of Italy. Fresh butter, called by the Arabs zebde, is very rarely seen in the Hedjaz. It is a common practice amongst all classes to drink every morning a coffee-cup full of melted butter or ghee, after which coffee is taken. They regard it as a powerful tonic, and are so much accustomed to it from their earliest youth, that they would feel great inconvenience in discontinuing the use of it. The higher classes content themselves [p.28] with drinking the quantity of butter, but the lower orders add a half-cup more, which they snuff up their nostrils, conceiving that they prevent foul air from entering the body by that channel. The practice is universal as well with the inhabitants of the town as with the Bedouins. The lower classes are likewise in the habit of rubbing their breasts, shoulders, arms, and legs, with butter, as the negroes do, to refresh the skin. During the war, the import of this article from the interior had almost entirely ceased; but even in time of peace, it is not sufficient for the consumption of Djidda; some is, therefore, brought also from Sowakin; but the best sort, and that which is in greatest plenty, comes from Massowah, and is called here Dahlak butter: whole ships� cargoes arrive from thence, the greater part of which is again carried to Mekka. Butter is likewise imported from Cosseir; this comes from Upper Egypt, and is made from buffaloes� milk; the Sowakin and Dahlak ghee is from sheep�s milk. The Hedjaz abounds with honey in every part of the mountains. The best comes from those which are inhabited by the Nowaszera Bedouins, to the south of Tayf. Among the lower classes, a common breakfast is a mixture of ghee and honey poured over crumbs of bread as they come quite hot from the oven. The Arabs, who are very fond of paste, never eat it without honey. The oil used for lamps is that of Sesamum (Seeredj, brought from Egypt). The Arabs do not use oil for culinary purposes, except in frying fish, or with broken paste to be given to the poor. Salad, of which the northern Turks are so fond, is never seen on an Arabian table. Eighteen vegetable or fruit-stands. The number of these has now greatly increased, on account of the Turkish troops, who are great devourers of vegetables. All the fruits come from Tayf, behind Mekka, which is rich in gardens. I found here in July grapes of the best kind, with which the mountains behind Mekka [p.29] abound; pomegranates of middling quality; quinces, which have not the harsh taste of those in Europe, and may be eaten raw; peaches; lemons of the smallest size only, like those of Cairo; bitter oranges; bananas--these do not grow at Tayf, but are brought by the Medina road principally from Safra, Djedeyda, and Kholeys. These fruits last till November. In March, water melons are brought from Wady Fatmé, which are said to be small, but of a good flavour. The Arabs eat little fruit except grapes; they say it produces bile, and occasions flatulency, in which they are probably not mistaken. The fruit sold at Djidda is particularly unwholesome; for having been packed up at Tayf in an unripe state, it acquires a factitious maturity by fermentation during the journey. The Turks quarrel and fight every morning before the shops, in striving to get the fruits, which are in small quantities and very dear. Vegetables are brought to Djidda from Wady Fatmé, six or eight miles distant to the north, which also supplies Mekka. The usual kinds are Meloukhye, Bamye, Portulaca egg-plants, or Badingans, cucumbers, and very small turnips, of which the leaves are eaten, and the root is thrown away as useless. Radishes and leeks are the only vegetables regularly and daily used in Arab cookery; they are very small, and the common people eat them raw with bread. In general, the Arabs consume very few vegetables, their dishes being made of meat, rice, flour, and butter. In these fruit-shops, tamarind (called here Homar) is also sold; it comes from the East Indies, not in cakes, like that from the negro countries, but in its natural form, though much decomposed. When boiled in water, it constitutes a refreshing beverage, and is given to sick people boiled with meat into a stew. Eight date-sellers. Of all eatables used by the Arabs, dates are the most favourite; and they have many traditions from their prophet, showing the pre-eminence of dates above all other kinds of food. The importation of dates is uninterrupted during the whole year. At the end of June, the new fruit (called ruteb) comes in: this lasts for two months, after which, for the remainder of the [p.30] year, the date-paste, called adjoue, is sold. This is formed by pressing the dates, when fully ripe, into large baskets so forcibly as to reduce them to a hard solid paste or cake, each basket weighing generally about two hundred weight; in this state the Bedouins export the adjoue; in the market it is cut out of the basket and sold by the pound. This adjoue forms a part of the daily food among all classes of people. In travelling, it is dissolved in water, and thus affords a sweet and refreshing drink. There are upwards of twelve different sorts of adjoue; the best comes from Taraba, behind Tayf (now occupied by the Wahabis.) The most common kind at present in the market is that from Fatmé; and the better sort, that from Kheleys, and Djedeyde, on the road to Medina. During the monsoon, the ships from the Persian gulf bring adjoue from Basra for sale, in small baskets, weighing about ten pounds each; this kind is preferred to every other. The East-India ships, on their return, take off a considerable quantity of the paste, which is sold to great profit among the muselmans of Hindostan. Four pancake-makers, who sell, early in the morning, pancakes fried in butter; a favourite breakfast. Five bean-sellers. These sell for breakfast also, at an early hour, Egyptian horse-beans boiled in water, which are eaten with ghee and pepper. The boiled beans are called mudammes; they form a favourite dish with the people of Egypt, from whom the Arabs have adopted it. Five sellers of sweetmeats, sugar-plums, and different sorts of confectionary, of which the Hedjaz people are much fonder than any Orientals I have seen; they eat them after supper, and in the evening the confectioners� stands are surrounded by multitudes of buyers. The Indians are the best makers of them. I saw no articles of this kind here that I had not already found in Egypt; the Baktawa, Gnafe, and Ghereybe, are as common here as at Aleppo and Cairo. Two kebab shops, where roasted meat is sold; these are kept by Turks, the kebab not being an Arab dish. [p.31] Two soup-sellers, who also sell boiled sheep�s heads and feet, and are much visited at mid-day. One seller of fish fried in oil, frequented by all the Turkish and Greek sailors. Ten or twelve stands where bread is sold, generally by women; the bread has an unpleasant flavour, the meal not having been properly cleansed, and the leaven being bad. A loaf of the same size as that which at Cairo is sold for two paras, costs here, though of a much worse quality, eight paras. Two sellers of leben, or sour milk, which is extremely scarce and dear all over the Hedjaz. It may appear strange that, among the shepherds of Arabia, there should be a scarcity of milk, yet this was the case at Djidda and Mekka; but, in fact, the immediate vicinity of these towns is extremely barren, little suited to the pasturage of cattle, and very few people are at the expense of feeding them for their milk only. When I was at Djidda, the rotolo or pound of milk (for it is sold by weight) cost one piastre and a half, and could only be obtained by favour. What the northern Turks called yoghort, and the Syrians and Egyptians leben- hamed, [Very thick milk, rendered sour by boiling and the addition of a strong acid.] does not appear to be a native Arab dish; the Bedouins of Arabia, at least, never prepare it. Two shops, kept by Turks, where Greek cheese, dried meat, dried apples, figs, raisins, apricots, called kammared�din, &c. are sold at three times the price paid in Cairo. The cheese comes from Candia, and is much in request among all the Turkish troops. An indifferent sort of cheese is made in the Hedjaz; it is extremely white, although salted, does not keep long, and is not by any means very nutritive. The Bedouins themselves care little for cheese; they either drink their milk, or make it into butter. The dried meat sold in these shops is the salted and smoked beef of Asia Minor, known all over Turkey by the name of bastorma, and [p.32] much relished by travellers. The Turkish soldiers and the Hadjis are particularly fond of it, but the Arabs never can be induced to taste it; many of them, observing that it differs in appearance from all other meat with which they are acquainted, persist in regarding it as pork, and the estimation in which they hold the Turkish soldiery and their religious principles is not likely to remove their prejudices on this head. All the dried fruits above mentioned, except the apricots, come from the Archipelago; the latter are sent from Damascus all over Arabia, where they are considered a luxury, particularly among the Bedouins. The stone is extracted and the fruit reduced to a paste, and spread out upon its leaves to dry in the sun. It makes a very pleasant sauce when dissolved in water. On all their marches through the Hedjaz, the Turkish troops live almost entirely upon biscuit and this fruit. Eleven large shops of corn-dealers, where Egyptian wheat, barley, beans, lentils, dhourra, [Or durra, from Sowakin, which comes from Taka, in the interior of Nubia, and a small-grained sort from Yemen, are also sold here.] Indian and Egyptian rice, biscuits, &c. may be purchased. The only wheat now sold in the Hedjaz comes from Egypt. In time of peace, there is a considerable importation from Yemen into Mekka and Djidda, and from Nedjed to Medina; but the imports from Egypt are by far the most considerable, and the Hedjaz may truly be said to depend upon Egypt for corn. The corn-trade was formerly in the hands of individuals, and the Sherif Ghaleb also speculated in it; but at the present, Mohammed Aly Pasha has taken it entirely into his own hands, and none is sold either at Suez or Cosseir to private persons, every grain being shipped on account of the Pasha. This is likewise the case with all other provisions, as rice, butter, biscuits, onions, of which latter great quantities are imported. At the time of my residence in the Hedjaz, this country not producing a sufficiency, the Pasha sold the grain at Djidda for the price of [p.33] from one hundred and thirty to one hundred and sixty piastres per erdeb, and every other kind of provision in proportion; the corn cost him twelve piastres by the erdeb in Upper Egypt, and including the expense of carriage from Genne to Cosseir, and freight thence to Djidda, twenty-five or thirty piastres. This enormous profit was alone sufficient to defray his expenses in carrying on the Wahaby war; but it was little calculated to conciliate the good-will of the people. His partisans, however, excused him, by alleging that, in keeping grain at high prices, he secured the Bedouins of the Hedjaz in his interest, as they depend upon Mekka and Djidda for provisions, and they were thus compelled to enter into his service, and receive his pay, to escape starvation. The common people of the Hedjaz use very little wheat; their bread is made either of durra or barley-flour, both of which are one- third cheaper than wheat; or they live entirely upon rice and butter. This is the case also with most of the Bedouins of Tehama, on the coast. The Yemen people in Djidda eat nothing but durra. Most of the rice used at Djidda is brought as ballast by the ships from India. The best sort comes from Guzerat and Cutch: it forms the chief article of food among the people of the Hedjaz, who prefer it to the rice from Egypt, because they think it more wholesome than the former, which is used exclusively by the Turks and other strangers from the north-ward. The grain of the Indian rice is larger and longer than the common sort of Egypt, and is of a yellowish colour; whereas the latter has a reddish tint; but the best sorts of both are snow-white. The Indian rice swells more in boiling than the Egyptian, and is for this reason preferred by the Arabs, as a smaller quantity of it will fill a dish; but the Egyptian rice is more nutritive. The Indian rice is rather cheaper, and is transported from Djidda to Mekka, Tayf, Medina, and thence as far as Nedjed. A mixture of equal portions of rice and lentils, over which butter is poured, [p.34] forms a favourite preparation with the middle class, and generally their only dish at supper. [This dish is known in Syria, and called there medjeddereh, because the lentils in the rice look like a person�s face marked with the small-pox, or djedreh.] I found, in every part of the Hedjaz, that the Bedouins, when travelling, carried no other provision than rice, lentils, butter, and dates. The importation of biscuits from Egypt has of late been very considerable, for the use of the Turkish army. The Arabians do not like and seldom eat them even on board their ships, where they bake their unleavened cake every morning in those small ovens which are found in all the ships of every size that navigate the Red Sea. Salt is sold by the corn-dealers. Sea-salt is collected near Djidda, and is a monopoly in the hands of the sherif. The inhabitants of Mekka prefer rock-salt, which is brought thither by the Bedouins from some mountains in the neighbourhood of Tayf. Thirty-one tobacco-shops, in which are sold Syrian and Egyptian tobacco, tombac, or tobacco for the Persian pipe, pipe-heads and pipe-snakes, cocoa-nuts, coffee-beans, keshre, soap, almonds, Hedjaz raisins, and some other articles of grocery. The Egyptian tobacco, sometimes mixed with that of Sennar, is the cheapest, and in great demand throughout the Hedjaz. There are two sorts of it: the leaf of one is green, even when dry; this is called ribbé, and comes from Upper Egypt: the other is brown-leaved, the best sort of which grows about Tahta, to the south of Siout. During the power of the Wahabys, tobacco could not be sold publicly; but as all the Bedouins of the Hedjaz are passionately fond of it, persons sold it clandestinely in their shops, not as tobacco or dokhan, but under the name of �the wants of a man.� Long snakes for the Persian pipe, very prettily worked, are imported from Yemen. Cocoa-nuts are brought from the East Indies, as well as from the south-eastern coast of Africa and the Somawly country, and may [p.35] be had quite fresh, at low prices, during the monsoon. The people of Djidda and Mekka appear to be very fond of them. The larger nuts, as already mentioned, are used for the boury, or common Persian pipe, and the smallest for snuff-boxes. Soap comes from Suez, whither it is carried from Syria, which supplies the whole coast of the Red Sea with it. The soap-trade is considerable, and, for the greater part, in the hands of the merchants from Hebron, (called in Arabic el Khalyl or the Khalylis,) who bring it to Djidda, where some of them are always to be found. The almonds and raisins come from Tayf and the Hedjaz mountains; large quantities of both are exported, even to the East Indies. The almonds are of most excellent quality; the raisins are small and quite black, but very sweet. An intoxicating liquor is prepared from them. Eighteen druggists. These are all natives of the East Indies, and mostly from Surat. In addition to all kinds of drugs, they sell wax candles, paper, sugar, perfumery, and incense; the latter is much used by the inhabitants of the towns, where all the respectable families perfume their best rooms every morning. Mastic and sandal-wood, burnt upon charcoal, are most commonly used for this purpose. Spices of all sorts, and heating drugs, are universally used in the Hedjaz. Coffee is rarely drunk in private houses without a mixture of cardamoms or cloves; and red pepper, from India or Egypt, enters into every dish. A considerable article of trade among the druggists of Djidda and Mekka consists in rose-buds, brought from the gardens of Tayf. The people of the Hedjaz, especially the ladies, steep them in water, which they afterwards use for their ablutions; they also boil these roses with sugar, and make a conserve of them. The sugar sold in the drug-gists� shops is brought from India; it is of a yellowish white colour, and well refined, but in powder. A small quantity of Egyptian sugar is imported, but the people here do not like it; in general, they prefer every thing that comes from India, which they conceive [p.36] to be of a superior quality; in the same manner as English produce and manufactures are preferred on the continent of Europe. The Indian druggists are all men of good property; their trade is very lucrative, and no Arabs can rival them in it. At Mekka, also, and at Tayf, Medina, and Yembo, all the druggists are of Indian descent; and although they have been established in the country for several generations, and completely naturalized, yet they continue to speak the Hindu language, and distinguish themselves in many trifling customs from the Arabs, by whom they are in general greatly disliked, and accused of avarice and fraud. Eleven shops where small articles of Indian manufacture are sold, such as china-ware, pipe-heads, wooden spoons, glass heads, knives, rosaries, mirrors, cards, &c. These shops are kept by Indians, mostly from Bombay. Very little European hardware finds its way hither, except needles, scissors, thimbles, and files; almost every thing else of this kind comes from India. The earthenware of China is greatly prized in the Hedjaz. The rich inhabitants display very costly collections of it, disposed upon shelves in their sitting-rooms, as may be remarked also in Syria. I have seen, both at Mekka and Djidda, china dishes brought to table, measuring at least two feet and a half in diameter, carried by two persons, and containing a sheep roasted entire. The glass beads exported from Djidda are chiefly for the Souakin and Abyssinian market; they are partly of Venetian and partly of Hebron manufacture. The Bedouin women of the Hedjaz likewise wear them; though bracelets, made of black horn, and amber necklaces, seem to be more in fashion among them. It is in these shops that the agate beads, called reysh, [See Travels in Nubia, article Shendy.] are sold, which come from Bombay, and are used in the very heart of Africa. A kind of red beads, made of wax, are seen here in great quantities; they come from India, and are [p.37] mostly destined for Abyssinia. Of rosaries, a great variety is sold: those made of yoser [From this, the principal lane of Djidda is called Hosh Yosser.] are the most costly; it is a species of coral which grows in the Red Sea. The best sort is found between Djidda and Gonfode, is of a deep black colour, and takes a fine polish. Strings of one hundred beads each are sold at from one to four dollars, according to their size. They are made by the turners of Djidda, and are much in demand for the Malays. Other rosaries, (also brought from India,) made of the odoriferous kalambac, and of the sandal-wood, are in great demand throughout Egypt and Syria. Few pilgrims leave the Hedjaz without taking from the holy cities same of these rosaries, as presents to their friends at home. Eleven clothes-shops. In these various articles of dress are sold every morning by public auction. The greater part of those dresses are of the Turkish fashion, adopted by merchants of the first and second classes, with some trifling national variations in the cut of the clothes. During the period of the Hadj, these shops are principally frequented for the purchase of the Hiram or Ihram, that mantle in which the pilgrimage is performed, and which consists generally of two long pieces of white Indian cambric. Here, too, the Hedjaz Bedouins come to buy the woollen abbas, or Bedouin cloaks, brought from Egypt, on which country they entirely depend for this article; and thus they seem to possess the same indolent character as most people of the Hedjaz; for it is customary with the wives of other Bedouins to fabricate their own abbas. Here, also, they bring Turkish carpets of an inferior quality, which form an indispensable article of furniture for the tent of a Sheikh. In these shops are likewise retailed all other imports from Egypt necessary for dress, as mellayes, cotton quilts, linen for shirts, shirts dyed blue, worn by the peasants, red and yellow slippers, [p.38] used by the more opulent merchants, and by all the ladies, red caps, all kinds of cloth dresses, second-hand cashmere shawls, muslin shawls, &c. &c. Six large shops of Indian piece-goods: French cloth, cashmere shawls, &c. belonging to respectable merchants, whose clerks here sell by retail. Almost all the principal merchants carry on also a retail business in their own houses, except the great Indian merchants established here, who deal in nothing but Indian piece-goods. The other merchants of Djidda engage in every branch of commerce. I once saw the brother of Djeylany quarrelling with a Yembo pedlar about the price of a mellaye, worth about fifteen shillings; but this is the case also in Egypt and Syria, where the most wealthy native merchants sell in retail, and enter into all the minute details of business, and yet without keeping any large establishment of clerks or accomptants, which their mode of conducting business renders little necessary. A Turkish merchant never keeps more than one accompt-book; into this he copies from a pocket-book his weekly sales and purchases. They have not that extensive correspondence which European merchants are obliged to keep up; and they write much less, though perhaps more to the purpose, than the latter. In every town with which they traffic, they have one friend, with whom they annually balance accounts. Turkish merchants, with the exception of those living in sea-ports, generally pursue but one branch of trade; maintaining a correspondence with the town only from whence they obtain their merchandize, and with that to which they transport it. Thus, for instance, the great Baghdad merchants of Aleppo, men with from thirty to forty thousand pounds in capital, receive goods from their friends at Baghdad, and then send them from Aleppo to Constantinople. I have known many of them who kept no clerk, but transacted the whole of their business themselves. At Cairo, the Syrian merchants trade in the stuffs of Damascus and Aleppo, and [p.39] are altogether unconnected with the Maggrebin, Syria, and Djidda merchants. Mercantile transactions are farther simplified by the traders employing chiefly their own capital, commission business being much less extensive than it is in Europe. When a merchant consigns a considerable quantity of goods to a place, he sends a partner with them, or perhaps a relative, if he have no partner resident in the place. Ranking concerns and bills of exchange are wholly unknown among the natives, which saves them much trouble. In those towns where European factories are established, bills may be found, but they are hardly current with the natives, among whom assignments only are customary. The practice followed equally by Mahomedan, Christian, and Jewish merchants, in the East, of never drawing an exact balance of the actual state of their capital, is another cause that renders the details of book-keeping less necessary here than in Europe. For the same reason that a Bedouin never counts the tents of his tribe, nor the exact number of his sheep, nor a military chief the exact number of his men, nor a governor the number of inhabitants of his town, a merchant never attempts to ascertain the exact amount of his property; an approximation only is all that be desires. This arises from a belief that counting is an ostentatious display of wealth, which heaven will punish by a speedy diminution. The Eastern merchant seldom enters into hazardous speculations, but limits his transactions to the extent of his capital. Credit to a great amount is obtained with difficulty, as affairs of individuals are in general much more publicly known than in Europe; failures are, therefore, of rare occurrence; and when a man becomes embarrassed either from an unsuccessful speculation or inevitable losses, his creditors forbear to press their demands, and are generally paid after a few years� patience; [p.40] thereby saving the merchant�s credit, and preventing the consequences of bankruptcy. On the other hand, however, the Eastern merchants are liable to the imputation of uncertainty in their payments, which they often delay beyond the stipulated periods. Even the most respectable among them do not hesitate to put off the payment of a debt for months; and it may be stated as a general rule in Egypt and Syria, that assignments are never fully paid till after a lapse of nearly double the time named. But this, I was often assured by the best informed people here, has only become the practice within the last twenty or thirty years, and is a consequence of the universal decay of commerce and diminution of capital in the Levant. At Djidda, as I have already observed, almost all bargains are made for ready money. Three sellers of copper vessels. A variety of well-tinned copper vessels may be found in every Arabian kitchen. Even the Bedouins have one capacious boiler, at least, in every tent. The whole of these come from Egypt. The most conspicuous article of this description is the abrík, or water-pot, with which the Muselman performs his ablutions. No Turkish pilgrim arrives in the Hedjaz without one of these pots, or at least he purchases one at Djidda. There are found, also, in the market a few copper vessels from China, brought hither by the Malays; but they are not tinned, and though the copper seems to be of a much finer quality than that of Anatolia, which is brought from Cairo, the Arabs dislike to use it. Four barbers� shops. The barbers are at once the surgeons and physicians of this country. They know how to let blood, and to compound different sorts of aperient medicines. The few Arabians whose beards are longer and thicker than those of their country-men usually are, take great pains in keeping them neatly cut, so that not a hair may project beyond another. The mustachios are [p.41] always cut closely, and never allowed to hang over the lips; in this they differ from the northern Turks, who seldom touch their thick bushy mustachios with scissors. The barbers� shops are frequented by loungers of the lower classes, who resort thither to hear the news, and amuse themselves with conversation. In one of these shops I found established a seal-engraver of Persian origin; he had a good deal of business, for a pilgrim, after he has performed his visits to the holy places, usually adds to the name on his seal the words El Hadjy, or �The Pilgrim.� Four tailors. Many others live in various parts of the town; they are mostly foreigners. Tousoun Pasha�s court-tailor was a Christian of Bosnia, and exercised authority over all the other tailors in the town; who complained bitterly of being subjected, not only to the commands and insults, but often to the stick of this Christian. Five makers of nâl, or sandals. There is not one shoe-maker in the Hedjaz. Those who wear shoes or slippers buy them of the merchants by whom they are imported from Egypt. The shape of the sandals used throughout Arabia differs in every province; and to those delineated by Niebuhr, a dozen other forms might be added. Some are peculiar to certain classes: a merchant, for instance, would not wear the sandals of a mariner. This is the case in Turkey with regard to shoes, of which each province and class has its particular shape. Egypt and Abyssinia furnish the thick leather used in making sandals. Three shops where water-skins brought from Sowakin and Egypt are sold and repaired. The greater part of the Hedjaz is furnished with water- skins from Sowakin; they are in great request, being very light, and sewed with much neatness. A Sowakin water-skin will last, in daily use, about three or four months. Two turners, who bore pipe-tubes, and make beads, &c. Three sellers of sweet-oils or essences, civet, aloe-wood, balsam of Mekka, and rose-water from Fayoum in Egypt. The civet [p.42] and Mekka balsam can seldom be bought pure, except at first hand. The Habesh or Abyssinian merchants bring the civet in large cow-horns; they sold it at four piastres per drachm in the year 1814. Musk also is sold in these shops, the best at two dollars per metkal. It is brought hither by the Indian and Persian Hadjys. One watchmaker, a Turk. All the Mekka and Djidda merchants wear watches, many of which are of good English manufacture; they are brought either from India, or by the Hadjys from Constantinople. As it often happens that the Turkish pilgrims want money in the Hedjaz, they are sometimes compelled to dispose of their most valuable articles; the watch is always the first, then the pistols and sabre, and lastly the fine pipe, and best copy of the Korán: all these articles are consequently very common in the auction-markets of Djidda and Mekka. One seller of Turkish and Persian tobacco-pipes. The latter come principally from Baghdad. The wealthy often display in their sitting- rooms a whole range of the finest nargils: these cost as much as one hundred dollars a piece. Seven money-dealers, or seráfs. They sit upon benches in the open street, with a large box before them containing the money. Formerly, these seráfs were all Jews, as is still the case, with few exceptions, at Cairo, Damascus, and Aleppo; but since the Sherif-Serour drove the Jews out of the Hedjaz, the Djiddawys themselves have taken up the profession, to which their natural disposition and habits incline them. There is usually at each stand a partnership of them, comprising half a dozen individuals. A large amount of cash is required to carry on the business; but it is very profitable. The value of money changes here more rapidly than in any part of the East with which I am acquainted. The price of dollars and sequins fluctuates almost daily, and the seráfs are always sure to be gainers. During the stay of the Indian fleet, the value of a dollar becomes very high. While I was at Djidda, it rose [p.43] to eleven and twelve piastres. After the departure of the fleet, when there is no immediate demand for dollars, the price falls; in January, 1815, it was at nine piastres. The gold coins vary in proportion. Formerly the old current coins of the Hedjaz were Venetian and Hungarian sequins, Spanish dollars, and money coined at Constantinople. Egyptian coins were wholly excluded; [According to the historians of Mekka, it appears that the sherifs there assumed the privilege of coining their own money, in the name of the Sultan of Constantinople, as late as the seventeenth century; but this is now abandoned.] but since the arrival of the troops of Mohammed Ali Pasha, all the Cairo coins have been forcibly put into circulation, and the Cairo silver money is now next in estimation to the Spanish dollar. The Pasha of Egypt, who enjoys the right of coining money in the name of the Sultan, has lately much abused this privilege. In 1815, he farmed out the mint for a yearly sum of seven millions of piastres, which is, at the present rate of exchange, about two hundred thousand pounds sterling, obliging the people to take the dollar at eight of his piastres, although it is well known to be now worth twenty-two or twenty-three. In the Hedjaz he has not the same means of enforcing his despotic measures to their full extent; and thus it happens that in the interior of the country, where the Turkish troops are placed, the value of the dollar is eighteen or nineteen piastres. The Bedouins, however, refuse to take the Egyptian piastres, even at a depreciation, and will receive nothing but dollars; a determination to which the Pasha himself has been frequently obliged to yield. The párá, or smallest Turkish coin, (here called diwany,) is current all over the Hedjaz, and in great request, from its being of more intrinsic value than the piastre, though coined like them at Cairo. Forty párás make a piastre; but in the time of the Hadj, when small change is necessary for the immense daily traffic of the pilgrims, the seráfs gave twenty-five párás only in [p.44] change for the piastre. A few Indian rupees are seen in the Djidda market, but they have no currency. I never met with any money coined by the Imám of Yemen. In the same great street of shops are ten large okales, always full of strangers and goods. Most of them were formerly the property of the sherif; they now belong to the Pasha, who levies an annual rent on the merchants. In Syria these buildings are called khans; in the Hedjaz hosh, which, in the dialect of Egypt, means a court-yard. In a street adjoining the great market-place live a few artisans, blacksmiths, silversmiths, carpenters, some butchers, &c. most of them natives of Egypt. The reader will perceive, by the foregoing pages, that Djidda depends for its commodities entirely on importations either from Egypt or the East Indies; and this is the case even to the most trifling article. The want of hands, and the high price of manual labour, but still more the indolence and want of industry inherent in the natives of the Hedjaz, have hitherto prevented them from establishing any kind of manufactory, except of the most indispensable articles. In this respect they offer a contrast to the Syrian and Egyptian Arabs, who in general are industrious, and who, in spite of the obstacles often thrown in their way by the government, have nevertheless established several manufactures, which render them, in some parts of the country, entirely independent of foreign supplies. The inhabitants of the Hedjaz appear to have only two occupations; commerce, and the pasture of cattle. The first engrosses the mind of almost every town-inhabitant, not excepting even the olemas, or learned men. Every one endeavours to employ whatever capital he possesses in some advantageous traffic, that he may live without much bodily exertion; for these people seem to be as averse to the latter as they are eager to endure all the anxieties and risks inseparable from the former. It is even difficult to find persons who will perform the common [p.45] labour of porters, &c.: those who follow similar occupations are for the most part foreigners from Egypt or Syria, and negro pilgrims, who thus earn a very comfortable livelihood, and generally make but a temporary stay at Djidda. The only race of Arabians whom I have found more industrious than the others, are the people of Hadramaut, or, as they are called, El Hadáreme. Many of them act as servants in the merchants� houses, as door-keepers, messengers, and porters, in which latter character they are preferred to all others for their honesty and industry. Almost every considerable town in the East has its particular race of porters: at Aleppo, the Armenians of the mountains of Asia Minor are in request for this office; at Damascus, the people of Mount Libanus; at Cairo, the Berábera Nubians; at Mekka and Djidda, the Hadáreme, who, like those of Syria, are mountaineers. It is well known that similar qualifications recommend my countrymen, the Alpine mountaineers, to the same offices at Paris. There is another striking similarity among the natives of all these countries; they generally return home with their gains, and pass the remainder of their days with their families. Notwithstanding this source, there is a great and almost absolute want of free servants in the Hedjaz. No man who has been born in one of the holy cities, will act as a menial servant, unless he be driven to it by the fear of dying from want of food; and no sooner is he in good condition, than he ceases to labour, and either turns pedlar or beggar. The number of beggars at Mekka and Djidda is very great, and it is a common remark among the merchants of the latter place, that a Djiddawy will never work while he can possibly maintain himself by begging. Mendicity is much encouraged by the pilgrims, who are fond of displaying their charity on first touching holy ground at this place. Respecting the people of Djidda and their character, I shall have occasion to make further observations in describing the inhabitants of Mekka, whom generally they resemble. In fact, all the [p.46] respectable families have houses at both places, and frequently pass from one to the other. Djidda is governed by a pasha of three tails, who takes precedence of most others, from the connexion of this place with the holy cities; but the government of it is an honour little esteemed by the Turkish grandees, who have always regarded Djidda as a place rather of exile than of preferment, and it has often been conferred on disgraced statesmen. The Pasha styles himself not only Wály or governor of Djidda, but of Sowakin and Habesh; and in support of this title, keeps custom- house officers at Sowakin and Massoua, which, prior to the government of Mohammed Aly, were entirely dependent on the sherif. The pashalik of Djidda was reduced to perfect insignificance by the power of the sherif of Mekka; and the title had become merely an honorary distinction, enjoyed by the individual on whom it had been bestowed, while he resided in some provincial town of Turkey or at Constantinople, without ever attempting to take possession of his government. There was, however, an exception in 1803, when, after the total evacuation of Egypt by the French, Sherif Pasha went to Djidda with a body of four or five hundred soldiers; but like all his predecessors, he became the mere instrument of Sherif Ghaleb, and in 1804 his career was terminated by sudden death-the fate of many former Pashas both of Djidda and of Mekka. According to the orders of the Sultan, whose nominal supremacy over the Hedjaz was recognised until the last Wahaby conquest, the revenue arising from the customs collected at Djidda should have been divided equally between the Pasha and the sherif of Mekka, while the former was to have exclusively the command of the town. When the Turks began to subdue Asia, the sherif received only one third of this revenue, and it was not until the year of the Hedjira 1042 that he obtained the half. [Vide Asámi, History of the Hedjaz.] Subsequently, [p.47] however, the sherif not only usurped the government of Djidda, but also applied the customs wholly to his own use, the Pasha being rendered altogether dependent upon his bounty. Soon after the death of Sherif Pasha, the Sherif Ghaleb was obliged to surrender Mekka to the Wahabys, having been besieged, the preceding year, in Djidda, by Saoud. He then openly declared himself a proselyte to the Wahaby faith, and a subject of the Wahaby chief, though he still retained full possession of Djidda and the produce of its customs, which formed the principal part of his income. The Wahabys did not enter the town, which ostensibly declared in favour of their doctrines. The Turkish soldiers were now obliged to retire towards Egypt, or elsewhere; and from that period till 1811 all Turkish authority was entirely excluded from the Hedjaz. In 1811, Mohammed Aly Pasha commenced his operations against the Wahabys, by sending a body of troops under the command of his son Tousoun Bey, who was defeated in the passes between Yembo and Medina. A second, in 1812, was more successful: while Tousoun, in September of that year, took Medina, Mustafa Bey, the Pasha�s brother-in-law, proceeded directly with the cavalry under his command to Djidda, Mekka, and Tayf; all which surrendered, almost without bloodshed. The Sherif Ghaleb, who, from the moment he began to apprehend the probable success of Aly�s expedition, had entered into a secret correspondence with Egypt, now openly declared himself a friend to the Turks, who entered Djidda as friends. The title of Pasha of Djidda was soon after conferred by the Porte upon Tousoun, as a reward for his services. The details of this war will be given in another place; I shall, therefore, only mention here, that after the Osmanlys, or Turks, entered Djidda, a quarrel arose between the Pasha and the sherif respecting the customs, which were to be divided between them, but which the Pasha, being now superior in power, kept wholly to himself. He sent the sherif as prisoner to Turkey, and [p.48] since that event, the town has continued wholly at his disposal, the new sherif, Yahya, being a servant in the pay of Tousoun. Djidda, in the time of Sherif Ghaleb, was governed either by himself, when he resided there, or, during his absence, by an officer called Vizir, under whose orders the police of the town was placed; while the collection of the customs (gumruk) was entrusted to another officer, called the gumrukdjy; and the police of the harbour to the Emir el Bahhr, or the �Chief of the Sea,� a title equivalent to �harbour- master.� In later times the vizir was a black slave of Ghaleb, and much detested for his pride and despotic conduct. Ghaleb seldom resided in Djidda, his continual intrigues with the Bedouins, and his schemes against the Wahaby tribes, requiring his presence in the more central position of Mekka. The form of government which existed under Ghaleb has not been changed by the Osmanlys. It happened that Tousoun Pasha could seldom reside in his capital, being placed under the command of his father, who received from the Porte the entire direction of the Hedjaz war, and the disposal of all the resources of that country. Tousoun was more usefully employed in moving about with the troops under his command, till he returned to Cairo in the autumn of 1815. Since the year 1812, a military commander has always resided in the town, with a garrison of two or three hundred men, which the Pasha takes care to change every three or four months. The collection of the customs, the entire regulation of civil affairs, the correspondence with Cairo and Mekka, the conveyance of troops, stores, and government merchandize between Egypt and Djidda, and the Pasha�s treasury, are in the hands of this commander, whose name is Seyd Ali Odjakly. His father was from Asia Minor, and belonged to the corps of Janissaries (Odjak), whence his son takes the epithet of Odjakly. He is disliked by the merchants of Djidda, because they remember his selling nuts in the streets about twenty years ago. In the time of Sherif Ghaleb, [p.49] he was employed by him in his private commercial affairs; and as he possesses great talents and activity, joined to a good knowledge of the Turkish language, Mohammed Ali could with difficulty have pitched upon a person more competent to fill the post which he now holds. The public revenue of Djidda arises almost exclusively from the customs, called here ashour, or tithes. This ought legally to be, as I was informed, ten per cent. upon all imported goods; but, in consequence of abuses which have been long practised, some articles of merchandize are charged much higher, while others pay less. During the latter period of the sherif�s power, coffee was charged at five dollars the quintal, which may be computed as fifteen to twenty per cent. Spices pay somewhat less than ten per cent.; India piece-goods something more. Great irregularity, therefore, exists in levying the customs; and it is in the power of the officer of customs to favour his friends without incurring any responsibility. After the sherif had embraced the Wahabi doctrine, his income was greatly diminished; because Saoud, the chief of the Wahabis, insisted that the goods of all his followers should pass duty-free, and thus the greater part of the coffee trade became exempt. I heard from a person who had means of knowing the truth, and who had no motive for concealing it from me, that the amount of customs collected at Djidda in 1814 was four hundred thousand dollars, equal to eight thousand purses, or four millions of piastres, which would give an annual importation of about four millions of dollars, a sum certainly below rather than above the truth. Customs are levied after the same rate at the two gates of the town, called Bab Mekka and Bab el Medina, upon all provisions coming from the interior of the country, principally cattle, butter, and dates, which, in time of peace, when the communication with the interior is uninterrupted, becomes a matter of importance. Except these, the people of the town pay no imposts whatever. [p.50] During my residence, the Turks had made Djidda the principal depot for their army. A large magazine of corn belonging to the Pasha, received almost daily supplies from Egypt, and caravans were every day despatched to Mekka and Tayf; the commerce of the town also was much increased by the wants of the army and its followers. The police of the place was well regulated; and the Pasha had given the strictest injunctions to his troops that they should not commit excesses, as he well knew that the high-minded Arabians do not so quietly submit to ill- treatment as the enslaved Egyptians: whenever quarrels happened between Arabs and Turks, the former generally had the advantage. No avanies (or wanton act of oppression and injustice) had, under any pretence, been exercised upon individuals, except in the occupation of a few of the best houses by the Pasha as lodgings for his wives. The merchants suffered, however, as in the sherif�s time, from the arbitrary rates of customs, and from the necessity of frequently purchasing all kinds of merchandize from the Pasha, who, while he was in the Hedjaz, seemed to be as eager in his mercantile as he was in his military pursuits. But after an impartial view of the merits and demerits of both governments, it may be said that the people of Djidda have certainly gained by the Osmanlys; yet, strange to mention, not an Arab could be found, whether rich or poor, sincerely attached to his new masters; and the termination of the sherif�s government was universally regretted. This must not be attributed wholly to the usual levity of a mob, which is found among the subjects of the Porte, even in a greater degree than among those of any European nation. The Ottoman governors or Pashas are continually changing, and every new one becoming a supreme ruler, gives ample cause for complaints and private hatred and disgust; while their rapid succession inspires the people with the hope of being soon rid of their present despot, an event to which they look forward with pleasure, as the first months of a new governor are generally marked by clemency and justice. [p.51] The Arabians are a very proud, high-spirited nation; and this may be said even of those who inhabit the towns, however corrupted the true Bedouin character may be among this degenerate race. They despise every nation that does not speak the Arabic language, or that differs in manners; they have, besides, been accustomed, for many years, to look upon Turks as a very inferior people, who, whenever they entered the Hedjaz, were overawed by the power of the sherif. The rigid ceremonial of a Turkish court was not adapted to the character and established notions of Mohammed Aly�s new subjects. The sherif, in the height of his power, resembled a great Bedouin Sheikh, who submits to be boldly and often harshly addressed. A Turkish Pasha is approached with the most abject forms of servitude. �Whenever the Sherif Ghaleb wanted a loan of money,� observed one of the first merchants of the Hedjaz to me, �he sent for three or four of us; we sat in close discourse with him for a couple of hours, often quarrelling loudly, and we always reduced the sum to something much less than was at first demanded. When we went to him on ordinary business, we spoke to him as I now speak to you; but the Pasha keeps us standing before him in an humble attitude, like so many Habesh (Abyssinian) slaves, and looks down upon us as if we were beings of an inferior creation. I would rather,� he concluded, �pay a fine to the sherif than receive a favour from the Pasha.� The little knowledge which the Turks possess of the Arabic language, their bad pronunciation of it even in reciting prayers from the Koran, the ignorance of Arabia and its peculiarities which they betray in every act, are so many additional causes to render them hateful or despicable in the eyes of the Arabs. The Turks return an equal share of contempt and dislike. Whoever does not speak the language of the Turkish soldier, or does not dress like one, is considered as a fellah, or boor, a term which they have been in the habit of applying to the Egyptian peasants, as beings in the lowest [p.52] state of servitude and oppression. Their hatred of the Arabian race is greater, because they cannot indulge their tyrannical disposition with impunity, as they are accustomed to do in Egypt, being convinced by experience that an Arabian, when struck, will strike again. The Arabians particularly accuse the Turks of treachery, in seizing the sherif and sending him to Turkey after he had declared for the Pasha, and permitted Djidda and Mekka to be occupied by the Turkish troops, who, they assert, would never, without the assistance of the sherif, have been able to make any progress in Arabia, much less to acquire a firm footing therein. The term khayn, �treacherous,� is universally applied to every Turk in Arabia, with that proud self-confidence of superiority, in this respect, for which the Arabs are deservedly renowned. The lower classes of the Arabs have discovered a fanciful confirmation of their charge against the Turks in one of the Grand Signor�s titles, Khán, an ancient Tatar word, which in Arabic signifies �he betrayed,� being the preterite of the verb ykhoun, �to betray.� They pretend that an ancestor of the Sultan having betrayed a fugitive, received the opprobrious appellation of �el Sultan Khán,� (�the Sultan has been treacherous;�) and that the title is merely retained by his successors from their ignorance of the Arabic language. Whenever the power of the Turks in the Hedjaz declines, which it will when the resources of Egypt are no longer directed to that point by so able and so undisturbed a possessor of Egypt as Mohammed Ali, the Arabs will avenge themselves for the submission, light as it is, which they now reluctantly yield to their conquerors; and the reign of the Osmanlis in the Hedjaz will probably terminate in many a scene of bloodshed. [p.53] ROUTE FROM DJIDDA TO TAYF. [I was unable to take any bearings during this excursion, as the only compass which I possessed, and which had served me throughout my Nubian journey, had become useless, and no opportunity offered of replacing it till December in this year, when I obtained one from a Bombay ship which arrived at Djidda.] ON the 24th of August, 1814, (11th of Ramadhán, A.H. 1230.) I set out from Djidda, late in the evening, with my guide and twenty camel-drivers of the tribe of Harb, who were carrying money to Mekka for the Pasha�s treasury. After having left the skirts of the town, where the road passes by mounds of sand, among which is the cemetery of the inhabitants, we travelled across a very barren, sandy plain, ascending slightly towards the east; there are no trees in it, and it is strongly impregnated with salt to about two miles from the town. After three hours� march, we entered a hilly country, where a coffee-hut stands near a well named Ragháme. We continued in a broad and winding valley amongst these hills, some sandy and some rocky, and, at the end of five hours and a half, stopped for a short time at the coffee-hut and well called El Beyádhye. Of these wells the water is not good. From thence, in one hour and a half, (seven hours in all,) we reached a similar station called El Feráyne, where we overtook a caravan of pilgrims, who were accompanying goods and provisions destilled for the army: they had quitted Djidda before us in the evening. The coffee-huts are miserable structures, with half-ruined [p.54] walls, and coverings of brushwood; they afford nothing more than water and coffee. Formerly, it is said, there were twelve coffee-houses on this road, which afforded refreshments of every kind to the passengers between Djidda and the holy city; but as the journey is now made chiefly during the night, and as the Turkish soldiers will pay for nothing unless by compulsion, most of these houses have been abandoned. The few that still remain are kept by some of the Arabs of the Lahyan tribe, (a branch of the Hodheyl Arabs,) and Metarefe, whose families are Bedouins, and live among the hills with their flocks. From Ferayne the valley opens, and the hills, diverging on both sides, increase considerably in height. At the end of eight hours, about sun-rise we reached Bahhra, a cluster of about twenty huts, situated upon a plain nearly four hours in length and two in breadth, extending eastward. At Bahhra there is plenty of water in wells, some sweet and some brackish. In a row of eight or ten shops are sold rice, onions, butter, dates, and coffee-beans, at thirty per cent. in advance of the Djidda market-price. This is what the Arabs call a souk, or market, and similar places occur at every station in this chain of mountains as far as Yemen. Some Turkish cavalry was stationed at Bahhra to guard the road. After travelling for two hours farther over the plain, we halted, at ten hours from Djidda, at Hadda, a souk, similar to the above. Between Bahhra and Hadda, upon an insulated hillock in the plain, are the ruins of an ancient fortification. August 25th.--The caravan from Djidda to Mekka rests during the day at Bahhra or at Hadda, thus following the common practice of the Hedjaz Arabs, who travel only by night. This is done in winter as well as in summer, not so much for the purpose of avoiding the heat as to afford the camels time for feeding, these animals never eating by night. Such nocturnal marches are most unfavourable to the researches of a traveller, who thus crosses the country at a time when no objects can be observed; [p.55] and during the day, fatigue and the desire of sleep render every exertion irksome. We alighted at Hadda, under the shed of a spacious coffee-hut, where I found a motley crew of Turks and Arabs, in their way to or from Mekka, each extended upon his small carpet. Some merchants from Tayf had just brought in a load of grapes; and, although I felt myself still weak from the fever, I could not withstand this temptation, and seized a few of them; for the baskets were no sooner opened than the whole company fell upon them, and soon devoured the entire load; the owner, however, was afterwards paid. It is at Hadda that the inhabitants of Djidda, when making a pilgrimage to Mekka, put on the ihram, or pilgrim�s cloak. By the Muselman law, every one is obliged to assume it, whatever may be his rank, who enters the sacred territory of Mekka, whether on pilgrimage or for other purposes; and he is enjoined not to lay it aside till after he has visited the temple. Many persons, however, transgress this law; but an o[r]thodox Mekkan never goes to Djidda without carrying his ihram with him, and on his return home, he puts it on at this place. In the afternoon some of the Turkish soldiers who were here put on this garment, with the prescribed ceremonies, which consist in an ablution, or, if the pilgrim choose, an entire purification, an audible avowal of the act of investment, a prayer of two rikats, and the recital of pious exclamations called telbye. This being a time of war, the soldiers continued to wear their arms over the cloak. In the afternoon, the coffee-house keeper dressed the provisions I had brought, as well as those belonging to many others of the company. There was great disorder in the place, and nobody could attempt to sleep. Soon after our arrival, a troop of soldiers passed, and pitched their tents a little farther on the plain; they then entered the coffee-huts, and took away all the sweet water, which had been procured from a well about half-an-hour distant, and kept at Hadda in large jars. The huts of the few miserable [p.56] inhabitants, thus exposed to all the casualties attending the continual passage of troops, are formed with brushwood, in the shape of a flattened cone, and they receive light only through the entrance; here the whole family lives huddled together in one apartment. The numerous coffee-huts are spacious sheds, supported by poles, with the coffee- waiter�s hearth placed in one corner. They are infested by great numbers of rats, bolder than any I ever saw. We left Hadda about five o�clock in the evening. The road continuing over the plain, the soil is sandy, in some parts mixed with clay, and might, I think, be easily cultivated by digging wells. At one hour from Hadda, we saw on our left, in the plain, some date-trees: here, as I understood, flows a small rivulet, which in former times irrigated some fields. The trees are at present neglected. We now left the plain, and diverging a little south-ward from our easterly course, again entered a hilly country, and reached, at two hours from Hadda, another coffee-hut, called Shemeysa. Behind it is the Djebel Shemeysa, or mountain of Shemeysa, from which, according to the historians of Mekka, was extracted the marble of many columns in the mosque of that holy city. In the mountain, near the hut, is a well. From Shemeysa we rode in a broad valley overspread with deep sands, and containing some thorny trees. At four hours from Hadda, we passed Kahwet Salem, or Salem�s coffee-shop, and a well; there we met a caravan coming from Mekka. The mountains nearly close at this place, leaving only a narrow straight valley, crossed at intervals by several other valleys. We then proceeded as far as Hadjalye, a coffee-house, seven hours distant from Hadda, with a large well near it, which supplies the camel-drivers of the Syrian pilgrim caravan, on the way to and from Mekka. Not having enjoyed a moment�s sleep since we quitted Djidda, I lay down on the sands, and slept till day-break, while my companions pursued their road to Mekka. My guide only remained with me; [p.57] but his fears for the safety of his camels would not allow him to close his eyes. The route from Djidda to Mekka is always frequented by suspicious characters; and as every body travels by night, stragglers are easily plundered. Near Hadjalye, are the ruins of an ancient village, built with stone; and in the Wady are traces of former cultivation. August 26th.--At half an hour from Hadjalye, we came to a small date plantation, surrounded by a wall. From hence the road to Mekka lies to the right, and enters the town by the quarter called Djerouel. My guide had orders to conduct me by a by-road to Tayf, which passes in the north of Mekka; it branches off at Hadda, crosses the road from Mekka to Wady Fatmé, and joins the great road from Mekka to Tayf, beyond Wady Muna. Just before we left Hadda, my guide, who knew nothing further respecting me than that I had business with the Pasha at Tayf, that I performed all the outward observances of a Moslem pilgrim, and that I had been liberal to him before our departure, asked me the reason of his having been ordered to take me by the northern road. I replied, that it was probably thought shorter than the other. �That is a mistake,� he replied; �the Mekka road is quite as short, and much safer; and if you have no objection, we will proceed by it.� This was just what I wished, though I had taken care not to betray any anxiety on the subject; and we accordingly followed the great road, in company with the other travellers. Instead, however, of taking me the usual way, which would have carried me through the whole length of the town, he, having no curiosity to gratify, conducted me, without my being aware of it, by a short cut, and thus deprived me of an opportunity of seeing Mekka fully at this time. From the date plantation beyond Hadjalye, we reached in half an hour the plain where the Syrian pilgrim-caravan usually encamps, and which has taken the name of Sheikh Mahmoud, from the tomb of a saint so called, built in the midst of it. It is encompassed [p.58] by low mountains; is from two to three miles in length, and one in breadth; and is separated from the valley of Mekka by a narrow chain of hills, over which a road has been cut through the rocks, with much labour. By this road we ascended, and on the summit of the hill passed two watch-towers, built on each side of the road by the Sherif Ghaleb. As we descended on the other side, where the road is paved, the view of Mekka opened upon us; and at an hour and a half from Hadjalye, we entered the eastern quarter of the town, near the Sherif�s palace (marked 50 in the plan). The great body of the town lay on our right, hidden, in part, by the windings of the valley. As I knew that I should return to Mekka, I did not press my guide to allow me a full view of the city, since we should, for that purpose, have been obliged to ride back about two miles in a contrary direction. I repressed my curiosity, therefore, and followed him, reciting those ejaculations which are customary on entering the holy city. I travelled several times afterwards between Mekka and Djidda, in both directions. The caravan�s rate of march is here very slow, scarcely exceeding two miles an hour. I have ridden from Mekka to Djidda upon an ass in thirteen hours. The distance may, perhaps, be fairly estimated at sixteen or seventeen hours� walk, or about fifty-five miles; the direction a trifle to the northward of east. On turning to our left, we passed, a little farther on, the great barracks of the Sherif; and in the suburbs called El Moabede, we alighted at the house of an Arab, with whom my guide happened to be acquainted. It was now the fast of Ramadhán; but travellers are exempted by law from observing it. The woman of the house, whose husband was absent, prepared us a breakfast, for which we paid her, and remained in the house till after mid-day; we then remounted our camels, and turning by the Sherif�s garden-house, situated at the eastern extremity of the suburbs, we took the high road to Wady Muna. Winding valleys, of greater or less breadth, [p.59] covered with sands, and almost wholly destitute of vegetation, with hills on both sides, equally barren, lead to Muna. At half an hour from the garden-house of the Sherif, the country opens a little to the left. There the canal passes which supplies Mekka with sweet water; and we saw, about two miles distant, at the extremity of the opening, a conical mountain, called Djebel el Nour, considered holy by the pilgrims, as will be subsequently mentioned. We passed on our right, in an hour and a half, a large tank, built of stones. This, in the time of the Hadj, is filled with water from the canal, which passes close by it. I believe this to be the place called Sebyl-es-Sett. One of the side- valleys between Mekka and Muna is called Wady Mohsab. El Fasy, the historian of Mekka, says that there were formerly sixteen wells between that city and Muna. At the end of two hours, after having ascended a little by a paved causeway formed across the valley, which is about forty yards in breadth, we entered Wady Muna. Near the causeway we saw a small field, irrigated by means of a brackish well, where a few miserable Bedouins raised onions and leeks for the market at Mekka. I shall give hereafter a more detailed description of Wady Muna, where the Hadj remains three days after its return from Arafat. We continued our route among the ruined houses of Muna, passed the short columns, at which the pilgrims throw stones, then the Sherif�s palace, and issued into the open country, which continues thence towards Mezdelife, distant three hours and three quarters from Mekka. This name is given to a small mosque, now almost in ruins, close to which is a tank or reservoir of water. Here a sermon is preached from a high platform in front of the mosque, to the pilgrims after their return from Arafat. El Fasy, the historian, says that this mosque was built in A.H. 759. It is often called Moshár el Haram; but, according to the same author, this name belongs to a small hill at the [p.60] extremity of the valley of Mezdelife, which bears also the appellation of El Kazeh. From Mezdelife two roads lead to Arafat; the one on the left along the plain or valley called Dhob; the other leads straight across the mountain, and joins the former near the Aalameyn. We proceeded along the great road in the valley. At four hours and a quarter the mountains again close, and a narrow pass called El Mazomeyn or El Medyk leads across them for half an hour, after which the view opens upon the plain of Arafat. At the end of four hours and three quarters, we passed, in this plain, a tank called Bir Basan, constructed of stone, with a small chapel adjoining. Here the country opens widely to the north and south. Eastward, the mountains of Tayf are seen for the first time in their full height. [On my return from Tayf to Mekka, when I was completely my own master, I drew up a much more detailed and accurate description of the road than this given here; but I accidentally lost the papers containing it; the present, therefore, is written from memory, and the few short notes which I hastily made during the route to Tayf.] At five hours we reached El Aalameyn, two stone structures standing one on each side of the road, from eighty to one hundred paces from each other, and between them the pilgrims must pass in going, and more particularly in returning from Arafat. They are of coarse masonry, plaistered white, and the annexed outline represents their form.[Not included] Fasy says that there were formerly three, that they were built in A.H. 605, and that one had fallen. Of those now remaining one is entire, the other half ruined. At five hours and a quarter we passed to our right a large insulated mosque in a state of decay, called Djama Nimre, or Djama Ibrahim, built as it now stands by the Sultan Kail, Bey of Egypt. The low mountain of [p.61] Arafat was now to our left at the extremity of the plain, about two miles distant. We proceeded, without stopping, over the plain, which is covered with shrubs of considerable height, and low acacia trees: from these it is prohibited to take even the smallest branch, this being holy ground. On attaining the eastern limits of the plain, we reached, at five hours and three quarters, the canal of Mekka, issuing from the mountainous ground. Near it is a small tank, and in its vicinity a cluster of Arab huts similar to those at Hadda, and bearing the name of Kahwet Arafat, or the coffee-house of Arafat. They are inhabited chiefly by Beni Koreysh, who cultivate vegetables in a valley extending from hence towards the south. We rested here some hours; a caravan from Tayf, composed of mules and asses, arrived at the same time. From Kahwet Arafat, the road becomes rocky, and the mountains nearly close, and are intersected by valleys which cross the road in every direction. Acacia-trees grow here in great abundance. At seven hours and a half we again entered upon sandy ground, in a valley called Wady Noman, where, towards the south, are some wells, and a few plantations cultivated by the Arab tribes of Kebákeb and Ryshye. At eight hours and a half we passed an encampment of the Bedouin tribe of Hodheyl, where dogs attacked our camels so fiercely that I had much difficulty, though mounted, to defend myself from their teeth. At eight hours and three quarters we passed a cluster of huts and coffee-shops, called shedad, with wells of very good water. At nine hours and a half, it being a cloudy and extremely dark night, we lost our way in following the windings of a side valley, and being unable to regain the right road, we lay down on the sand and slept till day-break. August 27th.--We found ourselves close to the road, and proceeding, we began to ascend, in half an hour, the great chain of mountains. From Djjdda to this place, our route, though generally between hills and mountains, had been constantly over flat [p.62] ground, in valleys, with an ascent almost imperceptible to the traveller, and the existence of which became visible only in viewing the country from the summit of the mountains now before us. The lower hills are seldom higher than four or five hundred feet. The lowest range above Djidda is calcareous; but its rocks soon change into gneiss, and a species of granite, with schorl in the place of feldspath, accompanied by predominant masses of quartz, and some mica. This rock continues along the road, with few variations, as far as the vicinity of Djebel Nour, to the eastward of Mekka, where granite begins. I learned at Mekka, that, south of Hadda, some hours distant, a mountain yields fine marble, which served for the pavement of the great mosque. The mountains forming the valley of Muna are composed of this red and grey granite, and continue so from thence to this higher chain, mixed in a few places with strata of grunstein. The lower chain of the high ridge which we were now ascending, again, consists of grey granite; towards the middle I found it of all colours, mixed with strata of grunstein, trappe, and porphyry schistus, the latter much decayed: at the summit of the ridge, red granite occurred again; its surface had been completely blackened by the sun�s rays. We ascended by a road, still bad, although Mohammed Ali Pasha had recently caused it to be repaired. The country around was very wild, being covered with large blocks of loose stones, carried down by the winter torrents, and interspersed with a few acacia and nebek trees. At one hour we came to a building of loose stones, called Kaber Er�-rafyk, i.e. the Companion�s tomb. The following tradition concerning it was related by my guide. In the last century, a Bedouin returning from the Hadj was joined, beyond the gates of Mekka, by a traveller going the same road with himself; they reached this spot in company, when one of them felt himself so ill, that he was unable to proceed farther, and on the following day the small-pox broke out on his body. In this situation his companion [p.63] would not abandon him. He built two huts with boughs of acacia- trees, one for his friend, the other for himself; and continued to nurse him, and solicit alms for his benefit from passing travellers, until he recovered. But in turn, he himself became ill of the same disease, and was nursed by his convalescent companion with equal kindness, though not with equal success; for he died, and was interred by his friend on this spot, where his tomb serves as a monument of Bedouin generosity, and inculcates benevolence even towards the casual companions of the road. At one hour and a half, still ascending, we reached some huts built among the rocks, near a copious spring; they are named Kahwet Kora, from the mountains which collectively bear the name of Djebel Kora. I found here a Turkish soldier, charged with the transport of provisions for the Pasha�s army over the mountain. This being the shortest road from Mekka to Tayf, caravans are continually passing. The camel-loads are deposited at this place, and then forwarded to the summit of the mountain on mules and asses, of which about two hundred are kept here. On the mountain camels are prepared for carrying the loads to Tayf. The more northern road to Tayf, of which I shall speak hereafter, is passable for camels all the way; but it is by one day longer than this. The huts of Kora are constructed between the rocks, on the slope of the mountain, where there is scarcely any level surface. The inhabitants are Hodheyl Bedouins. In two or three huts nothing could be procured but coffee and water. The Turkish soldier had lately incurred the Pasha�s displeasure, having stolen and sold the camel of a Hodheyl woman, who had gone to lay her complaint before his master, the Pasha, at Tayf. The soldier treated me with much civility, when he learned that I was going to visit the Pasha, and begged me to intercede in his behalf; this, however, I declined to do, telling him that I was myself a solicitor for my own concerns. We remained till mid-day at this [p.64] pleasant spot, from whence there is a fine prospect over the lower country. A large nebek-tree, near the spring which drizzles down the rocks, afforded me shade, and a delicious cool breeze allayed the sultry heat which we had endured ever since our departure from Djidda. Leaving Kora, we found the road very steep, and, although it had lately been repaired, so bad, that a mounted traveller could hardly hope to reach the summit without alighting. Steps had been cut in several places, and the ascent rendered less steep, by conducting it, in many windings, to the top: half a dozen spacious resting-places had also been formed on the side of the mountain, where the caravans take breath, there being no where so much as eight square feet of level ground. The same spring, which comes from near the top, is crossed several times. I met many of the Hodheyl Bedouins, with their families and flocks of sheep, near the road. One of them gave me some milk, but would not take any money in return; the sale of milk being considered by these Bedouins as a scandal, though they might derive great profits from it at Mekka, where one pound of milk is worth two piastres. I conversed freely with the men, and with the wife of one of them. They seemed a race of hardy mountaineers, and, although evidently poor, have a more robust and fleshy appearance than the northern Bedouins, which I ascribe chiefly to the healthiness of the climate, and the excellence of the water. The Beni Hodheyl, famous in the ancient history of Arabia, were nominally subject to the Sherif of Mekka, in whose territory they live; but they were in fact quite independent, and often at war with him. We were full two hours in ascending from the coffee-huts to the summit of the mountain, from whence we enjoyed a beautiful prospect over the low country. We discerned Wady Muna, but not Mekka; and as far as the eye could reach, winding chains of hills appeared upon a flat surface, towards the north and south, with narrow stripes of white sand between them, without the slightest verdure. Close to our right rose a peak of the mountain [p.65] Kora, called Nakeb el Ahmar, from four to five hundred feet higher than the place where we stood, and appearing to overtop all the neighbouring chain. Towards the north, the mountain, about thirty miles distant, seemed to decrease considerably in height; but southward it continues of the same height. After half an hour�s ride from the summit, we came to a small village called Ras el Kora. Finding myself much fatigued, I insisted upon sleeping here, with which my guide reluctantly complied, as he had received orders to travel expeditiously. August 28th.--The village and neighbourhood of Ras el Kora is the most beautiful spot in the Hedjaz, and more picturesque and delightful than any place I had seen since my departure from Lebanon, in Syria. The top of Djebel Kora is flat, but large masses of granite lie scattered over it, the surface of which, like that of the granite rocks near the second cataract of the Nile, is blackened by the sun. Several small rivulets descend from this peak, and irrigate the plain, which is covered with verdant fields and large shady trees on the side of the granite rocks. To those who have only known the dreary and scorching sands of the lower country of the Hedjaz, this scene is as surprising as the keen air which blows here is refreshing. Many of the fruit-trees of Europe are found here,--figs, apricots, peaches; apples, the Egyptian sycamore, almonds, pomegranates; but particularly vines, the produce of which is of the best quality. There are no palm-trees here, and only a few nebek-trees. The fields produce wheat, barley, and onions; but the soil being stony, these do not succeed so well as the fruits. Every beled, as they here call the fields, is enclosed by a low wall, and is the property of a Hodheyl Bedouin. When Othman el Medhayfe took Tayf from the Sherif, this place was ruined, the fields were destroyed, and many of the walls had not yet been rebuilt. After having passed through this delightful district, for about half an hour, just as the sun was rising, when every leaf and blade [p.66] of grass was covered with a balmy dew, and every tree and shrub diffused a fragrance as delicious to the smell as was the landscape to the eye, I halted near the largest of the rivulets, which, although not more than two paces across, nourishes upon its banks a green Alpine turf, such as the mighty Nile, with all its luxuriance, can never produce in Egypt. Some of the Arabs brought us almonds and raisins, for which we gave them biscuits; but although the grapes were ripe, we could not obtain any, as they are generally purchased while on the vines by the merchants of Tayf, who export them to Mekka, and keep them closely watched by their own people till they are gathered. Here a Turkish soldier, complimented with the title of Aga, was stationed under a tent, to forward the provisions coming from the lower station to Tayf. I observed with some astonishment, that not a single pleasure-house was built on this high platform. Formerly, the Mekka merchants had their country-seats at Tayf, which stand in a situation as desert and melancholy, as this is cheerful and luxuriant; but none of them ever thought of building a cottage here; a new proof of the opinion which I have long entertained, that orientals, especially the Arabs, are much less sensible of the beauties of nature than Europeans. The water of Ras el Kora is celebrated throughout the Hedjaz for its excellence. While Mohammed Ali remained at Mekka and at Djidda, he received a regular supply of Nile water for drinking, sent from Egypt, by every fleet, in large tin vessels; but on passing this place, he found its water deserving of being substituted for the other: a camel comes here daily from Tayf for a load of it. The houses of the Hodheyl, to whom these plantations belong, are scattered over the fields in clusters of four or five together. They are small, built of stones and mud, but with more care than might be expected from the rude hands of the occupants. Every dwelling comprises three or four rooms, each of which being separated from the others by a narrow open space, forms, as it were, [p.67] a small detached cottage. These apartments receive no light but from the entrance; they are very neat and clean, and contain Bedouin furniture, some good carpets, woollen and leathern sacks, a few wooden bowls, earthen coffee-pots, and a matchlock, of which great care is taken, it being generally kept in a leathern case. At night I reposed upon a large well-tanned cow-skin: the covering was formed of a number of small sheep-skins neatly sewed together, similar to those used in Nubia. The Hodheyl told me, that before the Wahabys came, and obliged them to pay tribute for their fields, they knew no land-tax, but, on the contrary, received yearly presents from the sherifs, and from all the Mekkawys who passed this way to Tayf. Ras el Kora extends from east to west about two and a half or three miles, and is about a mile in breadth. According to the statements of the Arabs, many spots towards the south, where Bedouin tribes, like the Hodheyl, cultivate the soil in detached parts of the mountain, are equally fertile and beautiful as that which we saw in the chain above mentioned. We left the Ras, which will be remembered by me as long as I am sensible to the charms of romantic scenery, and rode for about one hour over uneven barren ground, with slight ascents and descents, till we came to a steep declivity, to walk down which occupied us half an hour, and double that time would be necessary for ascending it. The rock is entirely composed of sand-stone. From the summit of the declivity just mentioned, Tayf is seen in the distance. At half an hour from the foot of the mountain, we entered a fertile valley, called Wady Mohram, extending from N.W. to S.E. Like the upper district, it is full of fruit-trees; but the few cultivated fields are watered from wells, and not by running streams. A village, which the Wahabys had almost wholly ruined, stands on the slope, with a small tower constructed by the inhabitants to secure the produce of their fields against the invasion of enemies. [p.68] Here begins the territory of Tayf, and of the Arab tribe of Thekyf, who, in former times, were often at war with their neighbours the Hodheyl. The Wady is denominated Mohram, from the circumstance, that here the pilgrims and visitors going from the eastward to Mekka, invest themselves with the ihram before noticed. There is a small ruined stone tank close by the road. The caravan of the Yemen pilgrims, called Hadj el Kebsy, whose route lies along these mountains, used always to observe the ceremony here, and the tank was then filled with water for ablution. The husbandmen of Mohram draw the water from their wells in leathern buckets suspended from one end of an iron chain, passed round a pulley, and to the other end they yoke a cow, which, for want of a wheel, walks to a sufficient distance from the well to draw up the bucket, when she is led back to resume the same course. The cows I saw here, like all those of the Hedjaz, are small, but of a stout, bony make: they have generally only short stumps of horns, and a hump on the back, just over the shoulder, about five inches in height and six in length, much resembling in this respect the cows which I saw on the borders of the Nile in Nubia. According to the natives, the whole chain of mountains from hence southward, as far as the country where the coffee-plantations begin, is intersected by similar cultivated valleys at some distance from each other, the intermediate space consisting chiefly of barren rocky soil. From Wady Mohram we again crossed uneven, mountainous ground, where I found sand-stone and silex. Acacia trees are seen in several sandy valleys, branching out from the road. At two hours and a half from Wady Mohram we ascended, and at the top of the hill saw Tayf lying before us. We reached it in three hours and a half from Wady Mohram, after having crossed the barren sandy plain which separates it from the surrounding hills. The rate of our march from Mekka, when we were quite alone upon our dromedaries, and able to accelerate their pace at pleasure, was not [p.69] less than three miles, and a quarter per hour. I therefore calculate from Mekka to the foot of Djebel Kora, about thirty-two miles; to its top, ten miles; and from thence to Tayf, thirty miles, making in the whole seventy-two miles. The bearing of the road from Arafat to Tayf is about twelve or fifteen degrees of the compass, to the southward of that from Mekka to Arafat; but having had no compass with me, I cannot give the bearing with perfect accuracy. [p.70] RESIDENCE AT TAYF. I ARRIVED at Tayf about mid-day, and alighted at the house of Bosari, the Pasha�s physician, with whom I had been well acquainted at Cairo. As it was now the fast of Ramadhan, during which the Turkish grandees always sleep in the day-time, the Pasha could not be informed of my arrival till after sun-set. In the mean while, Bosari, after the usual Levantine assurances of his entire devotion to my interests, and of the sincerity of his friendship, asked me what were my views in coming to the Hedjaz. I answered, to visit Mekka and Medina, and then to return to Cairo. Of my intention respecting Egypt he seemed doubtful, begged me to be candid with him as with a friend, and to declare the truth, as he confessed that he suspected I was going to the East Indies. This I positively denied; and in the course of our conversation, he hinted that if I really meant to return to Egypt, I had better remain at head- quarters with them, till the Pasha himself should proceed to Cairo. Nothing was said about money, although Bosari was ignorant that my pecuniary wants had been relieved at Djidda. In the evening Bosari went privately to the Pasha at his women�s residence, where he only received visits from friends or very intimate acquaintances. In half an hour he returned, and told me that the Pasha wished to see me rather late that evening in his public room. He added, that he found seated with the Pasha [p.071] the Kadhy of Mekka, who was then at Tayf for his health; and that the former, when he heard of my desire to visit the holy cities, observed jocosely, �it is not the beard [I wore a beard at this time, as I did at Cairo, when the Pasha saw me.] alone which proves a man to be a true Moslem;� but turning towards the Kadhy, he said, �you are a better judge in such matters than I am.� The Kadhy then observed that, as none but a Moslem could be permitted to see the holy cities, a circumstance of which he could not possibly suppose me ignorant, he did not believe that I would declare myself to be one, unless I really was. When I learnt these particulars, I told Bosari that he might return alone to the Pasha; that my feelings had already been much hurt by the orders given to my guide not to carry me through Mekka; and that I certainly should not go to the Pasha�s public audience, if he would not receive me as a Turk. Bosari was alarmed at this declaration, and in vain endeavoured to dissuade me from such a course, telling me that he had orders to conduct me to the Pasha, which he could not disobey. I however adhered firmly to what I had said, and he reluctantly went back to Mohammed Aly, whom he found alone, the Kadhy having left him. When Bosari delivered his message, the Pasha smiled, and answered that I was welcome, whether Turk or not. About eight o�clock in the evening I repaired to the castle, a miserable, half-ruined habitation of Sherif Ghaleb, dressed in the new suit which I had received at Djidda by the Pasha�s command. I found his highness seated in a large saloon, with the Kadhy on one hand, and Hassan Pasha, the chief of the Arnaut soldiers, on the other; thirty or forty of his principal officers formed a half-circle about the sofa on which they sat; and a number of Bedouin sheikhs were squatted in the midst of the semicircle. I went up to the Pasha, gave him the �Salam Aleykum,� and kissed his hand. He made a sign for me to sit down by the side of the [p.72] Kadhy, then addressed me very politely, inquired after my health, and if there was any news from the Mamelouks in the Black country which I had visited; but said nothing whatever on the subject most interesting to me. Amyn Effendi, his Arabic dragoman, interpreted between us, as I do not speak Turkish, and the Pasha speaks Arabic very imperfectly. In about five minutes he renewed the business with the Bedouins, which I had interrupted. When this was terminated, and Hassan Pasha had left the room, every body was ordered to withdraw, except the Kadhy, Bosari, and myself. I expected now to be put to the proof, and I was fully prepared for it; but not a word was mentioned of my personal affairs, nor did Mohammed Aly, in any of our subsequent conversations, ever enter further into them than to hint that he was persuaded I was on my way to the East Indies. As soon as we were alone, the Pasha introduced the subject of politics. He had just received information of the entrance of the allies into Paris, and the departure of Bonaparte for Elba; and several Malta gazettes, giving the details of these occurrences, had been sent to him from Cairo. He seemed deeply interested in these important events, chiefly because he laboured under the impression that, after Bonaparte�s downfall, England would probably seek for an augmentation of power in the Mediterranean, and consequently invade Egypt. After remaining for two or three hours with the Pasha in private conversation, either speaking Arabic to him, through the medium of the Kadhy, who, though a native of Constantinople, knew that language perfectly, or Italian, through Bosari, who was an Armenian, but had acquired a smattering of that tongue at Cairo, I took my leave, and the Pasha said that he expected me again on the morrow at the same hour. August 29th.--I paid a visit to the Kadhy before sun-set, and found him with his companion and secretary, a learned man of Constantinople. The Kadhy Sádik Effendi was a true eastern [p.73] courtier, of very engaging manners and address, possessing all that suavity of expression for which the well-bred natives of Stamboul are so distinguished. After we had interchanged a few complimentary phrases, I mentioned my astonishment on finding that the Pasha had expressed any doubts of my being a true Moslem, after I had now been a proselyte to that faith for so many years. He replied that Mohammed Aly had allowed that he (the Kadhy) was the best judge in such matters; and added, that he hoped we should become better acquainted with each other. He then began to question me about my Nubian travels. In the course of conversation literary subjects were introduced: he asked me what Arabic hooks I had read, and what commentaries on the Koran and on the law; and he probably found me better acquainted, with the titles, at least, of such works than he had expected, for we did not enter deeply into the subject. While we were thus conversing, the call to evening prayers announced the termination of this day�s fast. I supped with the Kadhy, and afterwards performed the evening prayers in his company, when I took great care to chaunt as long a chapter of the Koran as my memory furnished at the moment; after which we both went to the Pasha, who again sat up a part of the night in private conversation with me, chiefly on political affairs, without ever introducing the subject of my private business. After another interview, I went every evening, first to the Kadhy, and then to the Pasha; but, notwithstanding a polite reception at the castle, I could perceive that my actions were closely watched. Bosari had asked me if I kept a journal; but I answered that the Hedjaz was not like Egypt, full of antiquities, and that in these barren mountains I saw nothing worthy of notice. I was never allowed to be alone for a moment, and I had reason to suspect that Bosari, with all his assurances of friendship, was nothing better than a spy. To remain at Tayf for an indeterminate period, in the situation I now found myself, was little [p.74] desirable; yet I could not guess the Pasha�s intentions with respect to me. I was evidently considered in no other light than as a spy sent to this country by the English government, to ascertain its present state, and report upon it in the East Indies. This, I presume, was the Pasha�s own opinion: he knew me as an Englishman, a name which I assumed during my travels (I hope without any discredit to that country), whenever it seemed necessary to appear as an European; because at that time none but the subjects of England and France enjoyed in the East any real security: they were considered as too well protected, both by their governments at home and their ministers at Constantinople, to be trifled with by provincial governors. The Pasha, moreover, supposed me to be a man of some rank, for every Englishman travelling in the East is styled �My lord;� and he was the more convinced of this by a certain air of dignity which it was necessary for me to assume in a Turkish court, where modesty of behaviour and affability are quite out of place. Afraid as he then was of Great Britain, he probably thought it imprudent to treat me ill, though he did nothing whatever to forward my projects. As far as he knew, I could have only the five hundred piastres which he had ordered for me at Djidda, and which were not sufficient to pay my expenses for any length of time in the Hedjaz. Nothing was said to me either by him or Bosari of taking my bill upon Cairo, as I had requested him to do; but this favour I did not again solicit, having money enough for the present, and expecting a fresh supply from Egypt. To remain for any length of time at Tayf, in a sort of polite imprisonment, was little to my taste; yet I could not press my departure without increasing his suspicions. This was manifest after my first interview with the Pasha and the Kadhy, and I knew that the reports of Bosari might considerably influence the mind of Mohammed. Under these circumstances, I thought the best course was to make Bosari tired of me, and thus induce him [p.75] involuntarily to forward my views. I therefore began to act at his house with all the petulance of an Osmanly. It being the Ramadhan, I fasted during the day, and at night demanded a supper apart; early on the following morning I called for an abundant breakfast, before the fast recommenced. I appropriated to myself the best room which his small house afforded; and his servants were kept in constant attendance upon me. Eastern hospitality forbids all resentment for such behaviour; I was, besides, a great man, and on a visit to the Pasha. In my conversations with Bosari, I assured him that I felt myself most comfortably situated at Tayf, and that its climate agreed perfectly with my health; and I betrayed no desire of quitting the place for the present. To maintain a person in my character for any length of time at Tayf, where provisions of all kinds were much dearer than in London, was a matter of no small moment; and a petulant guest is everywhere disagreeable. The design, I believe, succeeded perfectly; and Bosari endeavoured to persuade the Pasha that I was a harmless being, in order that I might be the sooner dismissed. I had been six days at Tayf, but seldom went out, except to the castle in the evening, when Bosari asked whether my business with the Pasha was likely to prevent me much longer from pursuing my travels, and visiting Mekka. I replied that I had no business with the Pasha, though I had come to Tayf at his desire; but that my situation was very agreeable to me, possessing so warm and generous a friend as he, my host. The next day he renewed the subject, and remarked that it must be tiresome to live entirely among soldiers, without any comforts or amusements, unacquainted besides, as I was, with the Turkish language. I assented to this; but added, that being ignorant of the Pasha�s wishes, I could determine on nothing. This brought him to the point I wished. �This being the case,� said he, �I will, if you like, speak to his Highness on the subject.� He did so in the evening, before I went to the castle; and the Pasha told me, in the course of conversation, [p.76] that as he understood I wished to pass the last days of Ramadhan at Mekka, (a suggestion originating with Bosari,) I had better join the party of the Kadhy, who was going there to the feast, and who would be very glad of my company. This was precisely such a circumstance as I wished for. The departure of the Kadhy was fixed for the 7th of September, and I hired two asses, the usual mode of conveyance in this country, in order to follow him. As it was my intention to proceed afterwards to Medina, where Tousoun Pasha, the son of Mohammed Aly, was governor, I begged Bosari to ask the Pasha for a firman or passport, authorising me to travel through all the Hedjaz, together with a letter of recommendation to his son. In reply, Bosari told me that the Pasha did not like to interfere personally in my travels; that I might act as I pleased, on my own responsibility; and that my knowledge of the language rendered a passport unnecessary. This was equivalent to telling me, �Do what you please; I shall neither obstruct nor facilitate your projects,� which, indeed, was as much, at present, as I could well expect or desire. On the 6th of September I took my leave of the Pasha, who told me at parting, that if ever my travels should carry me to India, I might assure the English people there that he was much attached to the interests of the India trade. Early on the 7th the Kadhy sent me word that he should not set out till evening, would travel during the night, and hoped to meet me at Djebel Kora, midway to Mekka. I therefore left Tayf alone, as I had entered it, after a residence of ten days. At parting, Bosari assured me of his inviolable attachment to my interest; and I blessed my good stars, when I left the precincts of the town, and the residence of a Turkish court, in which I found it more difficult to avoid danger, than among the wild Bedouins of Nubia. During my stay at Tayf, I had five or six interviews with the [p.77] Pasha; and the following extracts from my journal will show the general result of what passed between us on those different occasions:-- Q. Sheikh Ibrahim, I hope you are well. A. Perfectly well, and most happy to have the honour of seeing you again. Q. You have travelled much since I saw you at Cairo. How far did you advance into the negro country? To this question I replied, by giving a short account of my journey in Nubia. Q. Tell me, how are the Mamelouks at Dongola? I related what the reader will find in my Nubian Travels. Q. I understand that you treated with two of the Mamelouk Beys at Ibrim; was it so? The word treated (if the dragoman rightly translated the Turkish word), startled me very much; for the Pasha, while he was in Egypt, had heard that, on my journey towards Dongola, I had met two Mamelouk Beys at Derr; and as he still suspected that the English secretly favoured the Mamelouk interest, he probably thought that I had been the bearer of some message to them from government. I therefore assured him that my meeting with the two Beys was quite accidental that the unpleasant reception which I experienced at Mahass was on their account; and that I entertained fears of their designs against my life. With this explanation the Pasha seemed satisfied. Q. Let us only settle matters here with the Wahabys, and I shall soon be able to get rid of the Mamelouks. How many soldiers do you think are necessary for subduing the country as far as Senaar? A. Five hundred men, good troops, might reach that point, but could not keep possession of the country; and the expenses would scarcely be repaid by the booty. Q. What do those countries afford? [p.78] A. Camels and slaves; and, towards Senaar, gold, brought from Abyssinia; but all this is the property of individuals. The chiefs or kings in those countries do not possess any riches. Q. In what state are the roads from Egypt to Senaar? A. I described the road between Asouan and Shendy, and from Souakin to the same place. Q. How did you pass your time among the Blacks? A. I related some laughable stories, with which he seemed greatly amused. Q. And now, Sheikh Ibrahim, where do you mean to go? A. I wish to perform the Hadj, return to Cairo, and then proceed to visit Persia.--(I did not think it advisable to mention my design of returning into the interior of Africa.) Q. May God render the way smooth before you! but I think it folly and madness to travel so much. What, let me ask, is the result of your last journey? A. Men�s lives are predestined; we all obey our fate. For myself, I enjoy great pleasure in exploring new and unknown countries, and becoming acquainted with different races of people. I am induced to undertake journies by the private satisfaction that travelling affords, and I care little about personal fatigue. Q. Have you heard of the news from Europe? A. Only some vague reports at Djidda. The Pasha then gave me an account of the events which ended in Bonaparte�s banishment to Elba, after the entrance of the allies into Paris. Bonaparte, he said, behaved like a coward; he ought to have sought for death, rather than expose himself in a cage to the laughter of the universe. The Europeans, he said, are as treacherous as the Osmanlys; all Bonaparte�s confidants abandoned him--all his generals, who owed to him their fortunes. He was eager in his inquiries about the political relations between Great Britain and Russia, and whether it was not likely that war might break out between them, on account of the hostile [p.79] intentions of the latter towards the Porte. (On this point he had received false intelligence.) His only fear seemed to be that the English army, which had been employed in the south of France, and in Spain, would now be at liberty to invade Egypt. �The great fish swallow the small,� he said; �and Egypt is necessary to England, in supplying corn to Malta and Gibraltar.� I reasoned with him in vain on this subject, and perceived that the dragoman did not always interpret my answers correctly, from the fear of contradicting the well-known opinions of his master. These opinions, indeed, were deeply rooted, and had been fostered by the French mission in Egypt. �I am the friend of the English,� he continued. (This addressed by a Turk to a Christian, means only that he fears him, or wants his money.) �But to tell you the truth, among great men we see many compliments, and very little sincerity. My hope is, that they will not fall upon Egypt during my stay in the Hedjaz; if I am there myself, I shall at least have the satisfaction of fighting personally for my dominions. Of the Sultan I am not afraid, (this he repeatedly asserted, but I much doubt his sincerity,) and I shall know how to outwit him in all his measures. An army from Syria can never attack Egypt by land in very large bodies, from the want of camels; and separate corps are easily destroyed as soon as they have passed the desert.� I took the liberty of telling him that he was like a young man in possession of a beautiful girl; although sure of her affection, he would always be jealous of every stranger. �You say well,� he replied. �I certainly love Egypt with all the ardour of a lover; and if I had ten thousand souls, I would willingly sacrifice them for its possession.� He asked me in what state I had found Upper Egypt; and whether his son Ibrahim Pasha (the governor) was liked there. I replied, in the language of truth, that all the chiefs of villages hated him (for he had compelled them to abandon their despotic treatment of their fellow- peasants); but that the peasants themselves [p.80] were much attached to him. (The fact is, that instead of being oppressed, as formerly, by the Mamelouk Beys and Kashefs, as well as by their own Sheikhs, they have at present only one tyrant, the Pasha himself, who keeps his governors of districts in perfect order.) Mohammed Aly wished to know my opinion respecting the number of troops necessary for defending Egypt against a foreign army. I answered, that I knew nothing of war, but from what I had read in books. �No, no;� he exclaimed, �you travellers always have your eyes open, and you inquire after every thing.� He persisted in his question; and being thus forced to reply, I said that twenty-five thousand chosen troops would probably be able to resist any attack. �I have now thirty-three thousand,� said he--a false assertion, for I am quite certain that he had at that time not more than sixteen thousand men, dispersed over Egypt and the Hedjaz. He would next explain to me the Nizam Djedyd, or new system of discipline and military regulations He said it was only the avidity of the chiefs, and not the dislike of the common sol­diers, that obstructed the institution of a well-organised army in Turkey, and opposed the mustering necessary to prevent the officers from imposing on the public treasury. �But I shall make a regular corps of negro soldiers,� he added. This his predecessor Khurshid Pasha had attempted, but with little success. The subject of the Nizam Djedyd was resumed as soon as Mohammed Aly returned to Egypt from this expedition; but the revolt of his soldiers, who plundered his own capital, obliged him to abandon the undertaking, which had been badly planned. In the defence of Egypt, he said, he should principally use his cavalry and horse­artillery; the former should destroy all the provisions in advance of the enemy, as the Russians had lately done; and the latter would harass them on all sides, without ever attempting to make a stand. [p.81] During my stay at Tayf, letters arrived from Constantinople, across the Desert, by way of Damascus, bringing to the Pasha a Turkish translation of the treaty of peace concluded at Paris. After having read it several times, he ordered his Turkish writer to explain it to me in Arabic, word for word. This occupied us in a private apartment several hours. I then returned to the audience, and was desired by the Pasha to tell him my opinion of the treaty. Referring to a Turkish atlas, copied from European maps, and printed at Constantinople, he made me point out to him the new limits of Belgium, the islands Mauritius and Tobago, the position of Genoa, &c. &c. With respect to the latter place, a curious mistake occurred. It had been stated to me that Genoa was ceded to the Swedes, which I could not credit. Upon inquiry, I found that Geneva and Switzerland were meant; a town and country which, I am sorry to say, were not comprised in the geographical knowledge of a Turkish viceroy. The mistake, how­ever, was easily made; for in Turkish, Geneva is written like Genoua, and Sweden is pronounced Shwit. The Pasha observed that much yet remained to be done, before all differences between the parties could be settled; and I clearly saw how impatiently he looked forward to a war among the European powers, which would relieve him from any apprehensions for his own safety, and at the same time occasion a great demand for corn at Alexandria. With respect to Bonaparte, he seemed quite certain that the English would one day seize him in Elba. �Have the English, then,� he exclaimed, �fought for nothing these twenty years? They have only got Malta, and a few other islands!� He was impressed with the fear that there were secret articles in the peace, which assigned to them the possession of Egypt. The notion of their having re-established the balance of power in Europe, and secured their own safety and independence, did not enter into his mind. �They should not leave Spain,� he continued, �without [p.82] being handsomely paid by the Spaniards; and why now abandon Sicily?� That the English were guided in their policy by the laws of honour, and a sense of the general good of Europe, he could not comprehend. �A great king,� he exclaimed, with much warmth, �knows nothing but his sword and his purse; he draws the one to fill the other; there is no honour among conquerors!�--a frank avowal of the sentiments which guide even the most petty of the Turkish rulers. Mohammed Aly had some notions of the English parliament; the name of Wellington was familiar to him. �He was a great general,� he said; but he doubted whether, if his Lordship had commanded such bad soldiers as the Turkish troops are, he would have been able to do with them as much as he (the Pasha) had done in conquering Egypt and the Hedjaz. He betrayed great anxiety about the fate and future possession of Corfu and the Seven Islands. On the one hand, he wished the Russians to make war on the Porte, and to drive the Sultan out of Europe; on the other, he feared that, if the Russians should seize Turkey in Europe, the English would not remain quiet spectators, but would take their share of the Turkish empire, which he was firmly persuaded would be no other than the province of Egypt. I am still ignorant of the Pasha�s real opinion concerning my sincerity in professing the Mohammedan faith. He certainly treated me as a muselman, and I flattered myself that the boldness of my conduct at Tayf had convinced him that I was a true pro­selyte. As to the Kadhy, who was a shrewd Constantinopolitan, most people supposed that the Porte had sent him to watch the proceedings of Mohammed Aly, and give information accordingly to the Sultan; and it struck me that his behaviour towards myself was connected with an intention of accusing the Pasha, on his return to Constantinople, of having protected a Christian in his visit to the holy cities, a crime which would be considered unpar­donable in a Pasha. Mohammed Aly, after his return to Cairo, [p.83] (where, contrary to his expectations, he again found me, and where I only saw him once,) took frequent opportunities, and indeed seemed anxious, to convince Mr. Salt and Mr. Lee, His Majesty�s and the Levant Company�s consuls, as well as several English travellers of note who passed through Cairo, that he knew per­fectly well, in the Hedjaz, that I was no Moslem, but that his friendship for the English nation made him overlook the circum­stance, and permit me to impose upon the Kadhy. He entertained a notion, suggested to him by some of his Frank counsellors at Cairo, that, in some future account of my travels, I might perhaps boast of having imposed upon him, like Aly Bey el Abassi, whose work had just been received at Cairo, and who declares that he deceived not only the Pasha, but all the olemas, or learned men, of Cairo. To Mohammed Aly it was of more consequence not to be thought a fool than a bad muselman. Notwithstanding these declarations of the Pasha to the English gentlemen, which were made in private, and certainly were not occasioned by any imprudent speeches of mine, I continued to live, after my return to Cairo, without molestation, as a Moslem, in the Turkish quarter. I have to thank him for his polite reception of me at Tayf, and for his having thrown no obstacles in the way of my travels through the Hedjaz. I was at Mekka in December, and at Medina in the April following, when the Pasha was at both places; but I did not think it necessary or advisable to wait upon him at either place, where I was otherwise wholly unknown. My practice in travelling has been to live as retired as possible; and, except during my short visit to Tayf, where circumstances forced me to appear somewhat conspicuously, I was known only in the Hedjaz as a hadjy, or pilgrim, a private gentleman from Egypt, one with whom no person was acquainted but the few officers of the Pasha whom I had seen at Tayf. My information respecting Tayf is very scanty, and was not [p.84] committed to paper until after I had left the town. I was never suffered to be alone during my stay there. I had no acquaintances from whom much could be learned; and during the fast of Ramadhan, few individuals of the higher classes, among whom I lived, stir out of their houses in the day-time. The town of Tayf is situated in the midst of a sandy plain, about four hours in circuit, overgrown with shombs, and encompassed by low mountains, called Djebal Ghazoan. These are subordinate ridges of the great chain, which, continuing for four or five hours farther east, are then lost in the plain. Tayf is an irregular square, of thirty-five minutes quick walking in circum­ference; it is inclosed with a wall and a ditch, newly constructed by Othman el Medhayfe. The wall has three gates, and is defended by several towers; but it is much less solid than the walls of Djidda, Medina, and Yembo, being in few places more than eighteen inches thick. On the west side, within the town, and forming a part of its wall, stands the castle, upon a rocky elevated site. It was built by Sherif Ghaleb, and has no claim to the title of a castle, except that it is larger than the other buildings in the town, and that its stone walls are stronger. Though it is now half ruined, Mohammed Aly had made this castle his head­quarters. The houses of the town are mostly small, but well built with stone: the sitting-rooms are on the upper floor; at least I saw no saloons on the ground-floor, as usual in Turkey. The streets are broader than those in most eastern towns. The only public place is in front of the castle, a large open space which serves for a market. At present, Tayf may be described as in a state of ruin, for but few houses are in complete repair. Many of the buildings were destroyed by the Wahabys, when they took the town, in 1802; and as it has been almost abandoned since that period, every thing is hastening to decay. I saw two small mosques; the best, that of the Henoud, or Indians. The tomb of El Abbas, which had a good dome over it, and was often visited by pilgrims, has been entirely [p.85] destroyed by the Wahabys. Excepting four or five buildings, now inhabited by the principal officers of the Pasha, I saw none above the most common size. Tayf is supplied with water from two copious wells, one of which is within the walls, and the other just before one of the gates. The water is well-tasted, but heavy. The town is celebrated all over Arabia for its beautiful gardens; but these are situated at the foot of the mountains which encircle the sandy plain. I did not see any gardens, nor even a single tree within the walls; and the immediate neighbourhood is entirely destitute of verdure, which renders a residence here as melancholy as in any other city of Arabia. The nearest gardens appeared to be on the S.W. side, at the distance of about half or three quarters of an hour: on that side also stands a deserted suburb, separated from the town, with some date-trees among its ruins; it was abandoned long before the invasion of the Wahabys. I did not visit any of the gardens. In some of them are small pavilions, where the people of Tayf pass their festive hours; the most noted of them are Wady Methna, Wady Selame, and Wady Shemal. The gardens are watered by wells and by rivulets, which descend from the mountains. Numerous fruit-trees are found here, together with fields of wheat and barley. The fruits which I tasted at Tayf were grapes of a very large size and delicious flavour, figs, quinces, and pomegranates; but all the other sorts mentioned at Djebel Kora are likewise found here. The gardens of Tayf are renowned also for the abundance of their roses, which, like the grapes, are transported to all parts of the Hedjaz. To these gardens all the great merchants of Mekka formerly retired in summer; and here the Sherif himself often passed a part of the hot season: they had all their houses and establishments here, and therefore lost considerable property, when Tayf was plundered by the Wahabys. The indigenous inhabitants of Tayf are Arabs, of the tribe of [p.86] Thekyf, [Of the Thekyf tribes are El Hamde, Beni Mohammed, and Themale.--Vide Assamy.] who have become settlers: in their possession are all the gardens adjoining the town, and most of the provision-shops within its walls. A few Mekkawys are also settled here, but the far greater part of the foreigners are Indians by origin. As at Djidda, these people, although born in Arabia, and in some instances established here for several generations, still preserve the dress and manners of the Indian Muselmans: some of them are merchants; but the greater part are druggists, whose trade is of much more importance in the Hedjaz than in other countries, from the general predilection of all classes for drugs, perfumes, &c. There are, I believe, no wholesale merchants in Tayf; I counted in all about fifty shops. Before the Wahaby invasion, this was a commercial town, to which the Arabs of the country around, at the distance of many days� journey, resorted, that they might pur­chase articles of dress; while those of the mountains brought caravans of wheat and barley: it was also a considerable entrepôt for coffee, brought on camels from the mountains of Yemen by Be­douins, who thus eluded the heavy duties levied in the harbours of the Arabian coast. Every thing denotes great misery in the town. At present, the only imports from the interior are dates, brought by the Ateybe Arabs from the many fruitful plantations in their territory. The principal streets abound with beggars, amongst whom are many Indians, who must often be exposed to perish from absolute hunger; for, during my residence, it required at least two piastres, (which, according to the actual exchange, was equal to about one-sixth of a dollar, or ten-pence) to procure bread enough for a man�s daily subsistence. Caravans of provisions arrived every week, but the want of camels did not allow of a suffi­cient importation from the coast to lower the price of food; and although the common class lived principally upon dates, and thus JOURNEY TO MEKKA [p.87] consumed none of the provisions brought hither from Mekka; yet I learned from good authority that there was only a supply for ten days in Tayf for the Turkish army. In the time of the Sherif, this town was governed by an officer of his appointment, named Hakem, himself a sherif, and who nar­rowly escaped the sword of the Wahabys. He has been restored to his office by Mohammed Aly; but it is at present merely honorary. Several sherif families of Mekka are settled here; and the mode of living, the dress, and manners, appear to be the same as at Mekka; but I had few opportunities of making observations on this subject. September 7th. I set out early in the morning from Tayf for Mekka, by the same road which I had come. There is, as I have already mentioned, a more northern route, by which caravans may avoid the difficulties of passing Djebel Kora. The first station from Mekka, on that road, is Zeyme, short of which, about ten miles, are several steep ascents. Zeyme is a half-ruined castle, at the eastern extremity of Wady Lymoun, with copious springs of run­ning water. Wady Lymoun is a fertile valley, which extends for several hours in the direction of Wady Fatme; it has many date­plantations, and formerly the ground was cultivated; but this, I believe, has ceased since the Wahaby invasion: its fruit-gardens, too, have been ruined. This is the last stage of the Eastern-Syrian Hadj route, or that which lies to the east of the Great Hedjaz chain, running from Medina to Mekka. To the S.E. or E.S.E. of Wady Lymoun, is another fertile valley, called Wady Medyk, where some sherifs are settled, and where Sherif Ghaleb possessed landed property. From Zeyme, the road to Tayf leads, on the second day, from Mekka to Seyl, a rivulet so called, flowing across a plain, which is without trees, but affords abundance of rich pasture. At Seyl, the road enters a mountainous tract, through which is a difficult and very narrow passage of about six hours. The station of [p.88] this day is Akrab, situated in the upper plain, at about three hours� distance from Tayf, to the northward, and on the same level with it: thus a traveller reaches Tayf on the fourth day from Mekka. This route was now impassable, except to large and well-protected caravans, the hostile Arabs of the Ateybe tribe having frequently made inroads on that side, and plundered small caravans. Not far from Tayf I overtook three Arnaut soldiers, each, like myself, mounted on an ass. At Tayf they had exchanged their money, getting thirteen piastres of the Cairo mint for one Spanish dollar, which at Djidda was worth but eleven; they had, therefore, made a common purse of one thousand dollars, and travelled from Djidda to Tayf, whenever the road was secure, for the sake of the two piastres which they gained upon each dollar. They carried the money, sewed in bags, upon their asses; and having forgotten, perhaps, to leave out any cash for travelling expenses, they joined me, finding that my travelling sack was well stocked with provi­sions, and left me to pay for our joint expenses on the road, when­ever we stopped at the coffee-huts. But they were good- humoured companions, and the expense was not thrown away. In passing by Wady Mohram, I assumed the ihram, as being now for the first time about to visit Mekka and its temple. The ihram consists of two pieces of linen, or woollen, or cotton cloth, one of which is wrapped round the loins, and the other thrown over the neck and shoulders, so as to leave part of the right arm uncovered. Every garment must be laid aside before this is put on. Any piece of stuff will answer the purpose; but the law ordains that there shall be no seams in it, nor any silk or orna­ments; and white is considered preferable to any other colour. White Indian cambric is usually employed for the purpose; but rich hadjys use, instead of it, white Cashmere shawls, which have not flowered borders. The head remains totally uncovered. It is not permitted to have the head shaved, in conformity with the oriental habits, until it is permitted also to lay aside the ihram. [p.89] The instep must likewise be uncovered: those, accordingly, who wear shoes, either cut a piece out of the upper leather, or have shoes made on purpose, such as the Turkish hadjys usually bring with them from Constantinople. Like most of the natives, I wore sandals while dressed in the ihram. Old-age and disease are excuses for keeping the head covered; but this indulgence must be purchased by giving alms to the poor. The sun�s rays become extremely troublesome to persons bare­headed; but although the law forbids that the head should be protected by any thing in immediate contact with it, there is no prohibition against the use of umbrellas, and with these most of the northern hadjys are provided, while the natives either brave the sun�s rays, or merely tie a rag to a stick, and make a little shade, by turning it towards the sun. Whether assumed in summer or in winter, the ihram is equally inconvenient and prejudicial to health, particularly among the northern Mohammedans, who, accustomed to thick woollen clothes, are at this period obliged to leave them off for many days; yet the religious zeal of some who visit the Hedjaz is so ardent, that if they arrive even several months previous to the Hadj, they vow on taking the ihram, in approaching Mekka, not to throw it off till after the completion of their pilgrimage to Arafat; and thus they remain for months covered, night and day, only with this thin cloak; [The Arabian historians relate that Haroun Errashid and his wife Zobeyda once performed the pilgrimage on foot, from Baghdad to Mekka, clothed only with the ihram; that at every station of the caravan there was a castle, with apartments splendidly furnished; and that the whole road was covered daily with carpets, on which they walked.] for the law forbids any other covering even at night; but with this few hadjys strictly comply. When the ancient Arabs performed their pilgrimage to the idols at Mekka, they also took the ihram; but that pilgrimage was fixed to a certain period of the year, probably autumn; for although the Arabs computed by lunar months, they inserted one month every [p.90] three years; and thus the month of the pilgrimage did not vary in its season, as at present. The intercalation of a month, established two hundred years before Islam, was prohibited by the Koran, which ordained that the same pilgrimage should be continued, in honour of the living God, which had before been performed in honour of idols, but that it should be fixed to a lunar month; thus its period became irregular, and in the space of thirty-three years was gradually changed from the depth of winter to the height of summer. The person covered by the ihram, or, as he is called, El Mohrem, is not obliged to abstain from particular kinds of food, as ancient Arabians, who, during the time of wearing it, did not taste butter among other things; but he is enjoined to behave decently, not to curse, or quarrel, not to kill any animal, not even a flea on his body, nor to communicate with the other sex. The ihram of the women consists of a cloak which they wrap completely about them, with a veil so close that not even their eyes can be seen: according to the law, their hands and ankles must be covered, but this rule they generally disregard. Although my companions, the soldiers, were going to Mekka, as well as myself, they did not think it necessary to take the ihram, which, as I have already said, the law prescribes at all times of the year to every one travelling towards the sacred city. We remained an hour on the delightful summit of Djebel Kora, and towards the evening descended the mountain. A shower of rain obliged us to seek shelter in a spacious cavern by the side of the road, which is used on similar occasions by shepherds of the Hodheyl tribe; and we arrived after sun-set at the coffee-huts, before mentioned, on the mountain- side, where the caravans from Mekka alight. Here we kindled a large fire, and hired an earthen pot of the Arabs, in which we boiled some rice for our supper. The long day�s march, the rain, and my light covering, brought on a slight fever; but I kept myself well covered during the night, and was in good health the next morning. The change of air, during my journey to Tayf, and the comparatively cooler climate of that place [p.91] had already completely recovered me from the effects of my severe illness at Djidda. During the night, the Kadhy of Mekka arrived from Tayf. September 8th. At day-break, I went to visit the Kadhy, whom I found smoking his pipe and drinking coffee; availing himself of the privilege granted to travellers in Ramadhan, of dispensing with the fast. According to our agreement at Tayf, I was to join him here on his way to Mekka; I could not therefore avoid joining him; but I was extremely averse to continuing with him, because he would probably carry me to his house at Mekka, where I should be again placed in a situation similar to that which had proved so uncomfortable at Tayf. He seemed, however, willing to avoid the trouble and expense of a guest; for when I expressed some appre­hensions that my tired ass would be unable to keep pace with his fine mule, he immediately answered, that he hoped, at all events, to meet me again at Mekka. I departed, therefore, with the soldiers, leaving the Kadhy to repose a little longer. We passed the mid-day hours at the coffee-hut called Shedad, where several Bedouins were amusing themselves by shooting at a mark. They gave proofs of great dexterity, often hitting a piastre, which I placed at about forty yards� distance. Except coffee and water, nothing is to be procured in any of the huts on this road; the coffee is not served up in single cups, as usual in most parts of the Levant; but, whoever asks for it, has a small earthen pot of hot coffee set before him, containing from ten to fifteen cups: this quantity the traveller often drinks three or four times a day. These pots are called mashrabe. (See their form in the outlines annexed.) [Illustration not included]. Into the mouth of the pot is stuck a bunch of dry herbs, through which the liquid is poured. I have already noticed the immoderate [p.92] use of coffee in this part of Arabia, and it is said to prevail still more in the south, and towards the vicinity of the coffee country. On the road from Shedad, which lies along the lower plains, between sharp mountains, we were surprised by a most violent shower of rain and hail, which obliged us to halt. In a very short time the water poured down in torrents from the mountains and when the hail ceased, after about an hour, we found that the rain, which still continued, had covered the Wady Noman with a sheet of water three feet deep, while streams of nearly five feet in breadth crossed the road with an impetuosity which rendered it impossible for us to pass them. In this situation we could neither advance nor retreat, knowing that similar currents would have been formed in our rear we therefore took post on the side of the mountain, where we were sure of not being washed away, and where we could wait in security till the subsiding of the storm. The mountains, however, soon pre­sented on their sides innumerable cascades, and the inundation became general; while the rain, accompanied with thunder and lightning, continued with undiminished violence. I saw the Kadhy, who had quitted Shedad soon after us, at some distance, separated from our party by a deep torrent, while several of his women, mounted upon mules, were also obliged to remain at a distance from him. We continued in this disagreeable situation for about three hours, when the rain ceased and the torrents soon diminished; but our asses could with difficulty be brought to attempt the slippery ground still covered with water, and we were at last obliged to alight and drive them before us, till we reached a more elevated surface. The Kadhy and his whole party were under the necessity of doing the same. Night now overtook us, and the cloudy sky involved us in complete darkness; but after an adventurous walk of three or four hours, stumbling or falling almost at every step, we reached the coffee-houses of Arafat, to the great satisfaction of my companions, the soldiers, who had entertained apprehensions for their money­bags. I was not less pleased myself, being much in want of a fire after such a drenching, with only the scanty covering of the ihram. ARRIVAL AT MEKKA [p.93] The coffee-houses, unfortunately, had also been inundated; we could not find a dry place on which to sit, and with some difficulty a fire was lighted in one of the small and more weather-proof huts of the Arabs, into which the Kadhy, with a few of his people and myself, crept, and boiled our coffee; in another hut were his women, crying from the severity of the cold. He not wishing that they should be exposed to the consequences of such a night�s lodging, mounted again, after a stay of half an hour, and proceeded towards Mekka, leaving me and my party in possession of the fire, by the side of which, after some time, we contrived to make ourselves com­fortable. September 9th. We set out early, and found that the storm of yesterday had not extended farther than the plain of Arafat. Such storms and inundations are frequent in this country, where the seasons seem to be much less regular than in other places under the same latitude. I heard that in the Upper Mountains, and at Tayf, the rainy season, although not so regular as under the tropics in Africa, is yet more steady than in the low country of Mekka and Djidda, where, even in the midst of summer, the sky is often clouded by storms and rain. The historians of Mekka have recorded several dreadful inundations in that city; the most disastrous occurred in the years of the Hedjira 80, 184, 202, 280, 297, 549, 620, 802, 829. In some of these, the whole town of Mekka, and the Temple, as high as the black stone, were under water, and in all of them many houses were destroyed and lives lost. Assamy gives the details of an inundation which devastated Mekka in A.H. 1039, or in the year 1626 of our era, when five hundred lives were lost, and the Kaaba in the Temple was destroyed. Another dreadful inundation happened in 1672. I arrived at Mekka about mid-day, when my companions went in search of their acquaintance among the soldiers, and left me to shift for myself, without knowing a single individual in the town, and without being recommended to any body but the Kadhy, whom, as I have already said, I wished to avoid. MEKKA [p.94] Whoever enters Mekka, whether pilgrim or not, is enjoined by the law to visit the Temple immediately, and not to attend to any worldly concern whatever, before he has done so. We crossed the line of shops and houses, up to the gates of the mosque, where my ass-driver took his fare and set me down: here I was accosted by half a dozen metowef, or guides to the holy places, who knew, from my being dressed in the ihram, that I intended to visit the Kaaba. I chose one of them as my guide, and, after having deposited my baggage in a neighbouring shop, entered the mosque at the gate called Bab-es�-Salam, by which the new-comer is recommended to enter. The ceremonies to be performed in visiting the mosque are the following:--1. Certain religious rites to be practised in the interior of the temple; 2. The walk between Szafa and Meroua; 3. The visit to the Omra. These ceremonies ought to be repeated by every Moslem whenever he enters Mekka from a journey farther than two days� distance, and they must again be more particularly performed at the time of the pilgrimage to Arafat. I shall here describe them as briefly as possible; a full detail and explanation of the Mohammedan law on this subject would be extremely tedious; indeed there exist many voluminous works in Arabic which treat of nothing else. 1. Rites to be performed in the Interior of the Temple. At the entrance, under the colonnade, some prayers are recited on first sight of the Kaaba, and then two rikats, or four prostrations addressed to the divinity, in thanks for having reached the holy spot, and in salutation of the mosque itself; after which the pilgrim approaches the Kaaba by one of the paved ways to it, through the open area in which it stands. In passing under the insulated arch in front of the Kaaba, called Bab-es�-Salam, certain prayers are said. Other prayers are recited in a low voice, and the visitor then places himself opposite to the black stone of the Kaaba, and prays two [p.95] rikats; at the conclusion of which, the stone is touched with the right hand, or kissed, if there is no great pressure of people. The devotee then begins the Towaf, or walk round the Kaaba, keeping that building on his left hand. This ceremony is to be repeated seven times; the three first are in a quick pace, in imitation of the Prophet, whose enemies having reported that he was dangerously ill, he contradicted them by running thrice round the Kaaba at full speed. Every circuit must be accompanied with prescribed prayers, which are recited in a low voice, and appropriated to the different parts of the building that are passed: the black stone is kissed or touched at the conclusion of each circuit, as well as another stone, walled in at one corner of the black stone. When the seven circuits are finished, the visiter approaches the wall of the Kaaba, between the black stone and the door of the building, which space is called El Metzem. There, with widely outstretched arms, and with his breast closely pressed against the wall, he beseeches the Lord to pardon his sins. He then retires towards the neighbouring Mekam Ibrahim, and there prays two rikats, called Sunnet-et-towaf, after which he repairs to the adjoining well of Zemzem; and, after a short pious address in honour of the well, drinks as much of the water as he wishes, or as he can on occasions when the crowd is very great; and this completes the ceremonies to be observed within the temple. I may here add, that the Towaf is a Muselman ceremony not exclusively practised in the temple at Mekka. In the summer of 1813, I was present at the annual festival of the patron saint of Kenne, in Upper Egypt, called Seid Abderrahman el Kennawy. Many thousands of the people of the country were assembled on the plain, in which stands the saint�s tomb, at a distance of one mile from the town. Each person, as he arrived, walked seven times round the small mosque which contains the tomb; and when the new covering intended to be laid over it for that year was brought in solemn procession, the whole assembly followed it seven times round the building, after which it was placed upon the tomb. [p.96] 2. Walk between Szafa and Meroua. My guide, who, during the whole of the ceremonies above men­tioned, had been close at my heels, reciting all the necessary prayers, which I repeated after him, now led me out of the mosque by the gate called Bab- es�-Szafa. About fifty yards from the S.E. side of the mosque, on a slightly ascending ground, stand three small open arches, connected by an architrave above, having below three broad stone steps leading up to them. This is called the Hill of Szafa: here, standing on the upper step, with his face turned towards the mosque, which is hidden from view by intervening houses, the pilgrim raises his hands towards heaven, addresses a short prayer to the Deity, and implores his assistance in the holy walk, or Say, as it is called; he then descends, to begin the walk, along a level street about six hundred paces in length, which the Arabian historians call Wady Szafa, leading towards Meroua, which is at its farther extremity, where stands a stone platform, ele­vated about six or eight feet above the level of the street, with several broad steps ascending to it. The visiter is enjoined to walk at a quick pace from Szafa to Meroua; and for a short space, which is marked by four stones or pilasters, called El Myleyn el Akhdereyn, built into the walls of the houses on both sides, he must run. Two of these stones seemed to be of a green colour; they exhibit nume­rous inscriptions; but these are so high in the walls, that it would be difficult to read them. Prayers are recited uninterruptedly in a loud voice during this walk. Persons who are unwell may ride, or be borne in a litter. On reaching Meroua, the pilgrim ascends the ARRIVAL AT MEKKA [p.97] steps, and, with uplifted hands, repeats a short prayer like that of Szaffa, to which place he must now return. The walk between the two places is to be repeated seven times, concluding at Meroua; four times from Szaffa to Meroua; and three times from Meroua to Szaffa. 3. The Visit to the Omra. In the vicinity of Meroua are many barbers� shops; into one of these the pilgrim enters, having completed the Say, and the barber shaves his head, reciting a particular prayer, which the pilgrim repeats after him. The Hanefys, one of the four orthodox sects of Moslims, shave only one- fourth part of the head; the other three-fourths continuing untouched till they return from the Omra. After the ceremony of shaving is finished, the visitor is at liberty to lay aside the ihram, and put on his ordinary dress; or, if he choose, he may go immediately from thence to the Omra, in which case he still wears the ihram, and says only two rikats on setting out. This, however, is seldom done, as the ceremonies of the Towaf and Say are sufficiently fatiguing to render repose desirable on their completion the visitor, therefore, dresses in his usual clothes; but the next or any following day, (the sooner the better,) he resumes the ihram, with the same ceremonies as are observed on first assuming it, and then proceeds to the Omra, a place one hour and a half from Mekka. Here he repeats two rikats in a small chapel, and returns to the city, chanting all the way the pious ejaculations called Telby, beginning with the words, �Lebeyk, Alla humma, Lebeyk.� He must now again perform the Towaf and the Say, have his head completely shaved, and lay aside the ihram, which closes those ceremonies. A visit to the Omra is enjoined by the law as absolutely necessary; but many individuals, notwithstanding, dispense with it. I went thither, on the third day after my arrival in the city, performing the walk in the night-time, which is the fashion during the hot season. At the time of the Hadj, all these ceremonies must be repeated [p.98] after returning from Wady Muna, and again on taking leave of Mekka. The Towaf, or walk round the Kaaba, should also be performed as often as convenient; and few foreigners live at Mekka, who do not make it a point to execute it twice daily; in the evening and before day- break. Prior to the age of Mohammed, when idolatry prevailed in Arabia, the Kaaba was regarded as a sacred object, and visited with religious veneration by persons who performed the Towaf nearly in the same manner as their descendants do at present. The building, however, was, in those times, ornamented with three hundred and sixty idols, and there was a very important difference in the cere­mony; for men and women were then obliged to appear in a state of perfect nudity, that their sins might be thrown off with their garments. The Mohammedan Hadj or pilgrimage, and the visit to the Kaaba, are, therefore, nothing more than a continuation and con­firmation of the ancient custom. In like manner, Szafa and Meroua were esteemed by the old Arabians as holy places, which contained images of the gods Motam and Nehyk; and here the idolaters used to walk from the one place to the other, after their return from the pilgrimage to Arafat. Here, if we may believe Mohammedan tradition, Hadjer, the mother of Ismayl, wandered about in the Desert, after she had been driven from Abraham�s house, that she might not witness the death of her infant son, whom she had laid down almost expiring from thirst; when the angel Gabriel appearing, struck the ground with his foot, which caused the well of Zemzem immediately to spring forth. In commemoration of the wanderings of Hadjer, who in her affliction had gone seven times between Szafa and Meroua, the walk from one place to the other is said to have been instituted. El Azraky relates that, when the idolatrous Arabs had concluded the ceremonies of the Hadj at Arafat, all the different tribes that had been present, assembled, on their return to Mekka, at the holy place called Szafa, there to extol, in loud and impassioned strains, the glory of their ancestors, their battles, and the fame of their [p.99] nation. From each tribe, in its turn, arose a poet who addressed the multitude. �To our tribe,� exclaimed he, �belonged such and such eminent warriors and generous Arabs; and now,� he added, �we boast of others.� He then recited their names, and sang their praises; concluding with a strain of heroic poetry, and an appeal to the other tribes, in words like the following:--�Let him who denies the truth of what I have said, or who lays claim to as much glory, honour, and virtue as we do, prove it here!� Some rival poet then arose, and celebrated in similar language the equal or superior glory attached to his own tribe, endeavouring, at the same time, to under­value or ridicule his rival�s pretensions. To allay the animosity and jealousies produced by this custom; or, perhaps, to break the independent spirit of his fierce Bedouins, Mohammed abolished it by a passage in the Koran, which says:--�When you have completed the rites of the pilgrimage, remember God, as you formerly were wont to commemorate your forefathers, and with still greater fervency.� Thus, probably, was removed the cause of many quarrels; but, at the same time, this stern lawgiver destroyed the influence which the songs of those rival national bards exercised over the martial virtues and literary genius of their countrymen. The visit of the Omra was likewise an ancient custom. Mohammed retained the practice; and it is said that he frequently recited his evening prayers on that spot. Having completed the fatiguing ceremonies of the Towaf and Say, I had a part of my head shaved, and remained sitting in the barber�s shop, not knowing any other place of repose. I inquired after lodgings, but learned that the town was already full of pil­grims, and that many others, who were expected, had engaged apartments. After some time, however, I found a man who offered me a ready-furnished room: of this I took possession, and having no servant, boarded with the owner. He and his family, consisting of a wife and two children, retired into a small, open court-yard, on the side of my room. The landlord was a poor man from Medina, MEKKA [p.100] and by profession a Metowaf, or cicerone. Although his mode of living was much below that of even the second class of Mekkawys, yet it cost me fifteen piastres a day; and I found, after we parted, that several articles of dress had been pilfered from my travelling sack; but this was not all: on the feast-day he invited me to a splendid supper, in company with half a dozen of his friends, in my room, and on the following morning he presented me with a bill for the whole expense of this entertainment. The thousands of lamps lighted during Ramadhan in the great mosque, rendered it the nightly resort of all foreigners at Mekka; here they took their walk, or sat conversing till after midnight. The scene presented altogether a spectacle which (excepting the absence of women) resembled rather an European midnight assemblage, than what I should have expected in the sanctuary of the Mohammedan religion. The night which closes Ramadhan, did not present those brilliant displays of rejoicing that are seen in other parts of the East; and the three subsequent days of the festival are equally devoid of public amusements. A few swinging machines were placed in the streets to amuse children, and some Egyptian jugglers exhibited their feats to multitudes assembled in the streets; but little else occurred to mark the feast, except a display of gaudy dresses, in which the Arabians surpass both Syrians and Egyptians. I paid the visit, customary on occasion of this feast, to the Kadhy, and at the expiration of the third day, (on the 15th of September,) set out for Djidda, to complete my travelling equipments, which are more easily procured there than at Mekka. On my way to the coast, I was nearly made prisoner at Bahra by a flying corps of Wahabys. My stay at Djidda was prolonged to three weeks, chiefly in consequence of sore legs; a disease very prevalent on this unhealthy coast, where every bite of a gnat, if neglected, becomes a serious wound. About the middle of October I returned to Mekka, accompanied by a slave whom I had purchased. This boy had been in the caravan with which I went from the Black Country to Sowakin, and was [p.101] quite astonished at seeing me in a condition so superior to that in which he had before known me. I took with me a camel-load of provisions, mostly flour, biscuit, and butter, procured in Djidda at one third of the price demanded at Mekka, where, immediately on my arrival, I hired decent apartments in a quarter of the town not much frequented, called Haret el Mesfale. I had here the advantage of several large trees growing before my windows, the verdure of which, among the barren and sun-burnt rocks of Mekka, was to me more exhilarating than the finest landscape could have been under different circumstances. At this place I enjoyed an enviable freedom and independence, known only to the Kadhy and his followers, who soon after took their departure. The Pasha and his court remained at Tayf till the days of the Hadj. I frequented only such society as pleased me, and, mixing with a crowd of foreign pilgrims from all parts of the world, I was not liable to impertinent remarks or disagreeable inquiries. If any question arose about my origin (a circum­stance that rarely happened in a place which always abounds with strangers), I stated myself to be a reduced member of the Mamelouk corps of Egypt, and found it easy to avoid those persons whose intimate knowledge of that country might perhaps have enabled them to detect the falsehood. But there was little to be appre­hended even from the consequences of such detection; for the assumption of a false character is frequent among all eastern travellers, and especially at Mekka, where every one affects poverty in order to escape imposition, or being led into great expenses. During all my journies in the East, I never enjoyed such perfect ease as at Mekka; and I shall always retain a pleasing recollection of my residence there, although the state of my health did not permit me to benefit by all the advantages that my situation offered. I shall now proceed to describe the town, its inhabitants, and the pilgrimage, and then resume the narrative of my travels. [p.102] DESCRIPTION OF MEKKA. [EXPLANATION OF THE PLAN. [not included]] MEKKA is dignified among the Arabs with many lofty-sounding titles. The most common are Om el Kora (the mother of towns); [p.103] El Mosherefe (the noble); Beled al Ameyn (the region of the faithful). Firuzabadi, the celebrated author of the Kamus, has composed a whole treatise on the different names of Mekka. This town is situated in a valley, narrow and sandy, the main direction of which is from north to south; but it inclines towards the north-west near the southern extremity of the town. In breadth this valley varies from one hundred to seven hundred paces, the chief part of the city being placed where the valley is most broad. In the narrower part are single rows of houses only, or detached shops. The town itself covers a space of about fifteen hundred paces in length, from the quarter called El Shebeyka to the extremity of the Mala; but the whole extent of ground comprehended under the denomination of Mekka, from the suburb called Djerouel (where is the entrance from Djidda) to the suburb called Moabede (on the Tayf road), amounts to three thousand five hundred paces. The mountains inclosing this valley (which, before the town was built, the Arabs had named Wady Mekka or Bekka) are from two to five hundred feet in height, completely barren and destitute of trees. The principal chain lies on the eastern side of the town: the valley slopes gently towards the south, where stands the quarter called El Mesfale (the low place). The rain-water from the town is lost towards the south of Mesfale in the open valley named Wady el Tarafeyn. Most of the town is situated in the valley itself; but there are also parts built on the sides of the mountains, principally of the eastern chain, where the primitive habitations of the Koreysh, and the ancient town appear to have been placed. Mekka may be styled a handsome town: its streets are in general broader than those of eastern cities; the houses lofty, and built of stone; and the numerous windows that face the streets give them a more lively and European aspect than those of Egypt or Syria, where the houses present but few windows towards the exterior. Mekka (like Djidda) contains many houses three stories high; few at Mekka are white-washed; but the dark grey colour of the stone is much pre­ferable to the glaring white that offends the eye in Djidda. In most [p.104] towns of the Levant the narrowness of a street contributes to its coolness; and in countries where wheel-carriages are not used, a space that allows two loaded camels to pass each other is deemed sufficient. At Mekka, however, it was necessary to leave the passages wide, for the innumerable visitors who here crowd together; and it is in the houses adapted for the reception of pilgrims and other sojourners, that the windows are so contrived as to command a view of the streets. The city is open on every side; but the neighbouring mountains, if properly defended, would form a barrier of considerable strength against an enemy. In former times it had three walls to protect its extremities; one was built across the valley, at the street of Mala; another at the quarter of Shebeyka; and the third at the valley opening into the Mesfale. These walls were repaired in A.H. 816 and 828, and in a century after some traces of them still remained. [See Azraky, Fasy, and Kotobeddyn.] The only public place in the body of the town is the ample square of the great mosque; no trees or gardens cheer the eye; and the scene is enlivened only during the Hadj by the great number of well-stored shops which are found in every quarter. Except four or five large houses belonging to the Sherif, two medreses or colleges (now converted into corn magazines), and the mosque, with some buildings and schools attached to it, Mekka cannot boast of any public edifices, and in this respect is, perhaps, more deficient than any other eastern city of the same size. Neither khans, for the accommodation of travellers, or for the deposit of merchandize, nor palaces of grandees, nor mosques, which adorn every quarter of other towns in the East, are here to be seen; and we may perhaps attribute this want of splendid buildings to the veneration which its inhabi­tants entertain for their temple; this prevents them from construct­ing any edifice which might possibly pretend to rival it. he mode of building is the same as that adopted at Djidda, with the addition of windows looking towards the street; of these many project from the wall, and have their frame-work elaborately [p.105] carved, or gaudily painted. Before them hang blinds made of slight reeds, which exclude flies and gnats while they admit fresh air. Every house has its terrace, the floor of which (composed of a preparation from lime-stone) is built with a slight inclination, so that the rain­water runs off through gutters into the street; for the rains here are so irregular that it is not worth while to collect the water of them in cisterns, as is done in Syria. The terraces are concealed from view by slight parapet walls; for throughout the east it is reckoned discreditable that a man should appear upon the terrace, whence he might be accused of looking at women in the neighbour­ing houses, as the females pass much of their time on the terraces, employed in various domestic occupations, such as drying corn, hanging up linen, &c. The Europeans of Aleppo alone enjoy the privilege of frequenting their terraces, which are often beautifully built of stone; here they resort during the summer evenings, and often to sup and pass the night. All the houses of the Mekkawys, except those of the principal and richest inhabitants, are constructed for the accommodation of lodgers, being divided into many apart­ments, separated from each other, and each consisting of a sitting­room and a small kitchen. Since the pilgrimage, which has begun to decline, (this happened before the Wahaby conquest,) many of the Mekkawys, no longer deriving profit from the letting of their lodgings, found themselves unable to afford the expense of repairs; and thus numerous buildings in the out-skirts have fallen completely into ruin, and the town itself exhibits in every street houses rapidly decaying. I saw only one of recent construction; it was in the quarter of El Shebeyka, belonged to a sherif, and cost, as report said, one hundred and fifty purses; such a house might have been built at Cairo for sixty purses. The streets are all unpaved; and in summer time the sand and dust in them are as great a nuisance as the mud is in the rainy season, during which they are scarcely passable after a shower; for in the interior of the town the water does not run off, but remains till it is dried up. It may be ascribed to the destructive rains, [p.106] which, though of shorter duration than in other tropical countries, fall with considerable violence, that no ancient buildings are found in Mekka. The mosque itself has undergone so many repairs under different sultans, that it may be called a modern structure; and of the houses, I do not think there exists one older than four centuries; it is not, therefore, in this place, that the traveller must look for interesting specimens of architecture or such beautiful remains of Saracenic structures as are still admired in Syria, Egypt, Barbary, and Spain. In this respect the ancient and far-famed Mekka is surpassed by the smallest provincial towns of Syria or Egypt. The same may be said with respect to Medina, and I suspect that the towns of Yemen are generally poor in architectural remains. Mekka is deficient in those regulations of police which are customary in Eastern cities. The streets are totally dark at night, no lamps of any kind being lighted; its different quarters are without gates, differing in this respect also from most Eastern towns, where each quarter is regularly shut up after the last evening prayers. The town may therefore be crossed at any time of the night, and the same attention is not paid here to the security of merchants, as well as of husbands, (on whose account principally, the quarters are closed,) as in Syrian or Egyptian towns of equal magnitude. The dirt and sweepings of the houses are cast into the streets, where they soon become dust or mud according to the season. The same custom seems to have prevailed equally in ancient times; for I did not perceive in the skirts of the town any of those heaps of rubbish which are usually found near the large towns of Turkey. With respect to water, the most important of all supplies, and that which always forms the first object of inquiry among Asiatics, Mekka is not much better provided than Djidda; there are but few cisterns for collecting rain, and the well-water is so brackish that it is used only for culinary purposes, except during the time of the pilgrimage, when the lowest class of hadjys drink it. The famous well of Zemzem, in the great mosque, is indeed sufficiently copious to supply the whole town; but, however holy, its water is heavy to [p.107] the taste and impedes digestion; the poorer classes besides have not permission to fill their water-skins with it at pleasure. The best water in Mekka is brought by a conduit from the vicinity of Arafat, six or seven hours distant. The present government, instead of constructing similar works, neglects even the repairs and requisite cleansing of this aqueduct. It is wholly built of stone; and all those parts of it which appear above ground, are covered with a thick layer of stone and cement. I heard that it had not been cleaned during the last fifty years; the consequence of this negligence is, that the most of the water is lost in its passage to the city through apertures, or slowly forces its way through the obstructing sediment, though it flows in a full stream into the head of the aqueduct at Arafat. The supply which it affords in ordinary times is barely sufficient for the use of the inhabitants, and during the pilgrimage sweet water becomes an absolute scarcity; a small skin of water (two of which skins a person may carry) being then often sold for one shilling--a very high price among Arabs. There are two places in the interior of Mekka where the aqueduct runs above ground; there the water is let off into small channels or fountains, at which some slaves of the Sherif are stationed, to exact a toll from persons filling their water-skins. In the time of the Hadj, these fountains are surrounded day and night by crowds of people quarrelling and fighting for access to the water. During the late siege the Wahabys cut off the supply of water from the aqueduct; and it was not till some time after, that the injury which this structure then received, was partially repaired. The history of this aqueduct, a work of vast labour and magnitude, is given by the Arabian historians at great length. Zebeyda, the wife of Haroun-er�-Rashid, first carried the spring, called Ayn Noman, from its source in Djebel Kora to the town. The spring of Ayn Arf from the foot of Djebel Shamekh to the north of Djebel Kora, which watered the fertile valley called Wady Honeyn, was next brought to join the Ayn Noman; and, finally, four other sources were added to the aqueduct--El Beroud, Zafaran, Meymoun, and Ayn Meshash. [p.108] Subsequently it seems to have been obstructed; but in A.H. 643 it was repaired by Kokeboury, King of Arbela; again in 762, by order of Sultan Sayd Khadanbede; and a third time, but not completely, in 811, by the Sheri£ Hassan Ibn Adjelan, then reigning. Kaiabey, Sultan of Egypt, expended a large sum upon it in 879; and in 916, Kansoue el Ghoury, one of the last of the Zirkassian kings of Egypt, contributed to its repair: but the aqueduct was still often obstructed; and whenever that happened, the Mekkawys and Hadjys were ex­posed to great privations. In 931, Sultan Soleyman attempted to construct it anew; but the design was not completed. At last, his son, Selym Ibn Soleyman, or Selim II., after many years labour, and at enormous expense, excavated a passage through the rocks behind Arafat, and formed a new conduit, which alone now subsists. He succeeded in bringing water very abundantly to the town, in A.H. 979. The whole length of the aqueduct is seven or eight hours. There is a small spring which oozes from under the rocks behind the great palace of the Sherif, called Beit el Sad; it is said to afford the best water in this country, but the supply is very scanty. The spring is inclosed, and appropriated wholly to the Sherif�s family. Beggars, and infirm or indigent hadjys, often intreat the passengers in the streets of Mekka for a draught of sweet water; they particularly surround the water-stands, which are seen in every corner, and where, for two paras in the time of the Hadj, and for one para, at other times, as much water may be obtained as will fill a jar. I shall now proceed to describe the different quarters of Mekka, reserving an account of the great mosque to the last; and then add some notices respecting the inhabitants and government. [p.109] QUARTERS OF MEKKA. AT the entrance from the side of Djidda, in turning round the angle of a sandy and gravelly valley, the traveller sees two round watch-towers. They were constructed by the Sherif Ghaleb for the defence of his capital. Similar towers are seen at the other entrances of the town, and they are sufficiently spacious to contain about twenty men. As the hills approach very closely at the en­trance of the city, these towers command the passage. Here, it appears, was formerly a gate, the threshold of which only is now remaining, close to a small building, where the officers of the Sherif collected the duties on merchandize, &c. carried into the town. Here, also, is a row of shops, and low, ruined dwelling- houses, known by the appellation of Hareh, or the quarter El Djerouel. It comprises an encampment to the right, in which the Bedouins live who carry on the transport trade between Mekka and Djidda; they belong to the tribes of Harb, Metrefy, and Lahawy. Beyond the Djerouel, the name of the street changes to that of Haret el Bab. This is a broad street, with several good houses, and leads into the quarter of El Shebeyka, which extends principally to the right, and is so called because the followers of Mohammed, in their wars with the Koreysh, were here attacked and closely pressed by their enemies. There are many good houses in Shebeyka, which is one of the cleanest and airiest quarters in the town. Many of the people of Djidda reside in it; and here also the Sherif Ghaleb has a good house, where his family, consisting of several young children [p.110] and a grown-up daughter, continued to dwell after his deposition. The main street is lined with coffee-shops, from which the post sets out every evening, on asses, with the letters for Djidda. This is the only post for letters that I have seen in the East, besides that esta­blished among the Europeans at Cairo, between that city and Alex­andria; but the delivery of letters is there much less regular than it is at Mekka, where it is duly performed, and at the trifling expense of two paras upon each letter, and as much more for the person who distributes the letters received from Djidda. In the coffee-shops just mentioned, live also the caravan-brokers, through whose agency the Bedouins let out their camels for the journey to Djidda and Medina. On the western side of the Shebeyka, towards the mountain, is a large burying-ground, in which are dispersed huts and tents of Bedouins, and some miserable dwellings of the lowest class of public women: this is called El Khandaryse. Although tradition says that great numbers of the friends and adherents of Mohammed lie buried here, yet it has become unfashionable to deposit the dead in it; and all of the first and second classes of Mekkawys use the extensive cemeteries lying on the north of the town. There are few shops in the Shebeyka; and it does not contain many foreign inmates during the Hadj, being inhabited by persons in easy circumstances, who consider it disgraceful to let out apartments. In proceeding from the Shebeyka along the broad street, nor­therly, we come to a bath, which, though by far the best of the three in Mekka, is inferior to those of other Asiatic cities, from the scarcity of water; it was built in A.H. 980, by Mohammed Pasha, the vizier of Sultan Soleyman II., and is one of the best structures in the town. [Vide Kotobeddyn.] It is frequented principally by foreigners, the native Arabs being little accustomed to the use of the bath, and choosing to perform the ablutions prescribed by their religion at their own dwellings. The bath, together with several by-streets leading to the mosque, forms the quarter called Haret Bab el Omra, which is inhabited by [p.111] a number of the guides called Metowef, and is full of pilgrims, espe­cially of those from Turkey. The streets are narrow, and excessively dirty; but the hadjys prefer the quarter, because it is the cheapest in the vicinity of the mosque, near which they are anxious to reside, that they may be sure of not missing the prayers; or, (as they add) that, if disturbed in their sleep, they may have the temple close at hand to dispel their bad dreams. Men are seen, in the middle of the night, running to the mosque in their sleeping-clothes; here they perform the walk round the Kaba, kiss the black stone, utter a short prayer, drink of the water of Zemzem, and then return to their beds. Near to the gate of the mosque called Bab Omra, from which this quarter takes its name, is a spacious building, originally a public school, but now occupied by Hassan Pasha, governor of Mekka. It is probably the Medrese mentioned by El Fasy, as having been built near Bab el Omra, in A.H. 814, by the orders of Mansour Ghyath Eddyn Atham Shah, the Lord of Bengal. In A.H. 519, the governor of Aden also ordered a Medrese to be built in this neighbourhood, which was called Dar-es�-Selsale. In this quarter is one of the fountains of sweet water derived from the canal, and there are several wells of brackish water. Returning from hence to the Shebeyka, and then turning southerly along different streets, composed of good buildings, but which are rapidly falling to decay, we descend by a slight slope into the street called Souk-es�-Sogheyr, or the little market, which terminates at the gate of the great mosque, called Bab Ibrahim. The houses on both sides of this street are low, and inhabited by the lower classes. There is a continued range of shops, in which are sold all sorts of provisions, but principally grain, butter, and dates. In some of the shops locusts are sold by measure. The Souk is fre­quented chiefly by Bedouins of the southern part of Arabia, who bring hither charcoal. Some poor Negro pilgrims of Africa take up their abode also in the miserable huts and ruined houses of this part of the town, and have here established a market for firewood, which they collect in the surrounding mountains. [p.112] The extremity of Souk-es�-Sogheyr, towards the mountain, is called Haret el Hadjela, or Hadjela b�il Tekyet Sadek; where stand a few tolerably good houses, inhabited by the eunuchs who guard the mosque, and who live there with their wives, for they are all married to black slaves. This is the lowest part of the town; and whenever great floods, during the rainy season, inundate the valley, the water rushes through this street, in its way to the open country. Some remains of the aqueduct are visible here; for when it was kept in good repair, its water, after supplying the town, was conducted this way into the southern valley, where it served to irrigate some fields. The Souk-es�-Sogheyr is sometimes comprehended in the Mesfale, or �low place,� the name of the quarter on the east and south sides of the Souk; but that name is more commonly applied exclusively to the latter district. The Mesfale is tolerably well built, and, like the Shebeyka, contains a few new houses; but that part of it which lies towards the great castle-hill is now almost entirely in ruins. It is inhabited by Arab and Bedouin merchants, who travel in time of peace to Yemen, principally to Mokhowa, from whence they import grain, coffee-beans, and dried grapes. It is also the residence of many poor Indians, established at Mekka; these let out their houses to their countrymen, who visit this city in the time of the Hadj. In the ruined dwellings, Negro pilgrims take up their temporary abode; some of these are settled in Mekka, and their wives prepare the intoxicating liquor made from durra, and called bouza, of which the meaner inhabitants are very fond. It was in the Mesfale, as I have already mentioned, that I took up my lodging on returning from Djidda, at first in the house of a Maggrebyn settler, from which I soon afterwards removed into that of a Yemen merchant close by. The person, whose apartment I hired, was from Szana in Yemen, a Metowef or guide by profession, and who occupied the first floor of the house, from which he removed, during my stay, into a corner on the ground-floor; the other parts of the dwelling were inhabited by the Maggrebyn landlord and his family, by a village sheikh from [p.113] Egypt, who had come to the Hadj, accompanied by several fellahs, by a poor man from the Afghan country, or territory El Soleymanye, as it is now usually called; and by a hadjy or pilgrim from one of the Greek islands. In the house of the Yemen merchant, I found myself among a party of Maggrebyn pilgrims belonging to the Berber nation, or the Shilhy, who had come by sea to Egypt. There are few houses in this part of the town, where the same strange mixture of nations is not to be met with. On the southern extremity of the Mesfale is a large ruined khan, which, even when new, must have been a mean building. It was destined for the accommodation of the pilgrim-caravan, which formerly arrived by land from Yemen, along the coast. Another Yemen pilgrim-caravan came along the mountains. In issuing from the town on this side, we discover a watch-tower standing in the plain, similar in construction to those at the Djerouel entrance. A broad valley leads from hence, in a southern direction, to the small village of Hosseynye, two or three hours distant, where are some date-trees. Here the Sherif Ghaleb had a small pleasure-garden and a country-house; and he kept here a herd of buffaloes, brought from Egypt; but they did not prosper. From Hosseynye a road leads to Arafat, passing to the S. and S.E. of Mekka, two or three hours distant from which, on that road, is the small fertile valley and Arab settlement of Aabedye. The valley just mentioned is called El Tarafeyn; one mile beyond the present skirts of the city may be traced the ruins of former habitations; among them are several large, deep, and well-built cisterns, which, with little labour, might again be rendered fit for their original purpose of collecting rain-water. At a mile and a half from the city is a large stone tank, called Birket Madjen, built for the supplying of water to the Yemen caravan; I found some water in it, but it is falling rapidly to decay. Beyond this tank, the people of the Mesfale cultivate a few fields of cucumbers and different vegetables, immediately after the fall of the rains, when the ground has been copiously irrigated. Many Bedouin huts and tents of the tribes of Faham [p.114] and Djehadele are scattered over this valley: their inhabitants earn a livelihood by collecting in the mountains grass and wild herbs, which they sell, when dry, in the Mekka market, twisted into bundles: they serve to feed horses, camels, and asses; but are so scarce and dear, that the daily feed for a horse costs from two to three piastres. These Bedouins also rear a few sheep; but although poor, they keep themselves quite distinct from the lower classes of the Mekkawys, whom they scorn to imitate in their habits of mendicity. Some few of them are water-carriers in the city. On one summit of the western chain of the valley of Tarafeyn, just in front of the Mesfale, stood, prior to the invasion of the Wahabys, a small building with a dome, erected in honour of Omar, one of Mohammed�s immediate successors, and therefore called Mekam Seydna Omar. It was completely ruined by the Wahabys. Nearly on the summit of the opposite mountain stands the Great Castle, a very large and massy structure, surrounded by thick walls and solid towers. It commands the greatest part of the town, but is commanded by several higher summits. I heard that this castle owes its origin to the Sherif Serour, the predecessor of Ghaleb; but I believe it to be of a more ancient date. It is often mentioned by Asamy, in his history, as early as the fourteenth century; but he does not say who built it. No person might enter without per­mission from the governor of Mekka, and I did not think it either prudent, or worth the trouble, to apply for that favour. Ghaleb considerably strengthened and thoroughly repaired the building, and mounted it with heavy guns. It was said that he had made its principal magazines bomb-proof. It contains a large cistern and a small mosque; and might accommodate a garrison of about one thousand men. To Arabs it is an impregnable fortress; and so it is considered by the Mekkawys; even against Europeans, it might offer some resistance. The approach is by a steep narrow path. Below the castle-hill, upon a small plain between the mountain and the Djebel Kobeys, stands the great palace of the reigning [p.115] sherif, called Beit es� Sade. This, too, is said to have been built by Serour; but I find it mentioned by Asamy in the account of trans­actions that occurred two hundred years ago. Its walls are very high and solid, and seem to have been intended for an outwork to the castle above it, with which, according to the reports of the Mekkawys, there is a subterranean communication. It is an irregular pile of building, and comprises many spacious courts and gloomy chambers, which have not been inhabited since Sherif Ghaleb fled before the enemy to Djidda: he then attempted to destroy it by fire; but it was too strongly built. The Turks, under Mohammed Aly, have converted it into a magazine of corn. In the adjacent plain, which was formerly the place of exercise for the Sherif�s troops, I found a herd of camels, with the encampment of their drivers, who make a journey weekly to Djidda or Tayf. Here also many poor hadjys, who could not pay for lodgings, had erected their miserable tents, formed of a few rags spread upon sticks. The soldiers were busily occupied in destroying all the remaining ceilings of the palace, in quest of fire-wood. In a narrow inlet in the mountain, to the north of the palace, and adjoining the above-mentioned plain, are numerous low huts built of brush-wood, the former abodes of Sherif Ghaleb�s slaves, who served as soldiers in his guard. The greater part of them fled after the Sherif�s capture; and the huts now form barracks for about two hundred Arab soldiers, in the service of his successor, Sherif Yahya. In turning from hence towards the mosque, on the right hand, we come to a small quarter, built on the declivity of the mountain, in which are many half-ruined houses: it is called Haret el Djyad, and is inhabited by poor people, and several of the lower servants of the Sherif�s household. Asamy says that it derives its name from having been the post occupied by the horsemen who accompanied Toba, King of Yemen, in his expedition against Mekka; an event celebrated among the Moslim writers, for the miraculous destruction of the army. This is certainly one of the most ancient quarters of the town. [p.116] Close by the mosque, on either side of the entrance to the above­mentioned plain, stands a palace of the Sherif; the northern consists of two stately houses, connected together, which are occupied by Sherif Yahya: his women reside in the opposite southern building, which was erected by Sherif Ghaleb, who in this favourite residence spent the greater part of his time, induced by its vicinity to the mosque, its central situation, and the large open space which it commands. Continuing from this place, in a northern direction, parallel with the mosque, we enter the long street called Mesaa. The small by­streets to the right, in approaching the Mesaa, form the quarter of El Szafa, which takes its name from the holy place Szafa, already de­scribed. The houses surrounding this place are handsome buildings, and here the richest foreigners, in the time of the pilgrimage, take up their abode. In a large house here resides the Aga of the eunuchs belonging to the temple, together with all the eunuch boys, who are educated here, till they attain a sufficient age to allow of their living in private lodgings. We now turn into the Mesaa, the straightest and longest street in Mekka, and one of the best built. It receives its name from the ceremony of the Say, which is performed in it, and which I have already described: from this circumstance, and its being full of shops, it is the most noisy and most frequented part of the town. The shops are of the same description as those enumerated in the account of Djidda, with the addition of a dozen of tin-men, who make tin bottles of all sizes, in which the pilgrims, upon their return, carry the water of Zemzem to their homes. The shops are generally magazines on the ground-floor of the houses, before which a stone bench is reared. Here the merchant sits, under the shade of a slight awning of mats fastened to long poles; this custom prevails throughout the Hedjaz. All the houses of the Mesaa are rented by Turkish pilgrims. On the arrival of a party of hadjys from Djidda, which happens almost every morning, for four or five months of the year, their baggage is usually deposited in this street, after which they pay their visit to the mosque, [p.117] and then go in quest of lodgings; and in this manner I found the street crowded almost every day with new comers, newsmongers, and guides. About the time of my stay at Mekka, the Mesaa resembled a Constantinopolitan bazar. Many shops were kept by Turks from Europe or Asia Minor, who sold various articles of Turkish dress, which had belonged to deceased hadjys, or to those who, being deficient in cash, had sold their wardrobe. Fine swords, good English watches, and beautiful copies of the Koran, the three most valuable articles in a Turkish pilgrim�s baggage, were continually offered for sale. Constantinopolitan pastry-cooks sold here pies and sweetmeats in the morning; roasted mutton, or kebabs, in the afternoon; and in the evening, a kind of jelly called mehalabye. Here, too, are nume­rous coffee-houses, crowded from three o�clock in the morning until eleven o�clock at night. The reader will be surprised to learn, that in two shops intoxicating liquors are publicly sold during the night, though not in the day-time: one liquor is prepared from fermented raisins, and although usually mixed with a good deal of water, is still so strong, that a few glasses of it produce intoxication. The other is a sort of bouza, mixed with spices, and called soubye. This beverage is known (although not made so strong) at Cairo. The Mesaa is the place of punishment: there capital offenders are put to death. During my stay, a man was beheaded, by sentence of the Kadhy, for having robbed a Turkish pilgrim of about two hun­dred pounds sterling; this was the only instance of the kind which came to my knowledge, though thieves are said to abound in Mekka, while the Hadj continues. The history of Mekka, however, affords many instances of the most cruel punishments: in A.D. 1624, two thieves were flayed alive in this street; in 1629, a military chief of Yemen, who had been made prisoner by the reigning Sherif, had both his arms and shoulders perforated in many places, and lighted tapers put into the wounds; one of his feet was turned up, and fastened to his shoulder by an iron hook, and in this posture he was suspended two days on a tree in the Mala, till he died. The destruction [p.118] of a man�s sight, no uncommon punishment in other parts of the east, seems never to have been inflicted by the Hedjaz governors. In the Mesaa, and annexed to the mosque, stands a handsome building, erected in A.H. 882, by Kaid Bey, Sultan of Egypt, in which he established a large public school, with seventy-two different apartments; he also furnished it with a valuable library. The historian Kotobeddyn, who, one hundred years afterwards, was librarian here, complains that only three hundred volumes remained in his time, the rest having been stolen by his unprincipled predecessors. On the northern extremity of the Mesaa is the place called Merowa, the termination of the Say, as already described; this, as it now stands, was built in A.H. 801. Behind it is shown a house which was the original habitation of El Abbas, one of the many uncles of Mohammed. Near the Merowa are the barbers� shops, in which pilgrims have their heads shaved after performing the Say. Here, too, public auctions are held every morning, where wearing-apparel, and goods of every description, are offered to the highest bidder: for the sake of the Turkish pilgrims, their language is used on these occasions; and there is scarcely a boy at Mekka who is not thus acquainted with, at least, the Turkish numerals. Near this place, too, is a public fountain, the work of the Othman Emperor Soleyman Ibn Selym: it is supplied from the Mekka aqueduct, and is crowded the whole day by hadjys, who come to fill their water-skins. Eastward of the Mesaa, near its extremity at the Merowa, branches off a street called Soueyga, or the Little Market, which runs almost parallel with the east side of the mosque. Though narrow, it is the neatest street in the town, being regularly cleaned and sprinkled with water, which is not the case with any of the others. Here the rich India merchants expose their piece-goods for sale, and fine Cashmere shawls and muslins. There are upwards of twenty shops, in which are sold perfumes, sweet oils, Mekka balsam, (in an adulterated state,) aloe- wood, civet, &c. Few pilgrims return to their homes without [p.119] carrying some presents for their families and friends; these are usually beads, perfumes, balm of Mekka, aloe-wood, which last is used throughout the east, in small pieces, placed upon the lighted tobacco in the pipe, producing an agreeable odour. In other shops are sold strings of coral, and false pearls, rosaries made of aloe, sandal or kalembac wood, brilliant necklaces of cut cornelians, cornelians for seal-rings, and various kinds of China ware. These shops are all kept by Indians, and their merchandize is entirely of Indian production and manufacture. Against these Indians much prejudice is entertained in Arabia, from a general opinion that they are idolaters, who comply in outward appearance only with the rites of Mohammedism: they are supposed to be of the Ismayley sect; those mysterious devotees, of whom I have given some account in my journey to Lebanon, [See Travels in Syria, &c.] and whose name is, at Mekka, applied to those Indians. About a dozen of them reside here; the others arrive annually at the pilgrimage; they buy up old gold and silver, which they remit to Surat, from whence most of them come. Some have lived at Mekka for ten years, scrupulously performing every religious ceremony; they rent a large house, in which they live together, never allowing other strangers to occupy any part of it, even should several of the apartments be untenanted. Contrary to the practice of all other Mohammedans, these Indians never bring their women to the pilgrimage, although they could well afford the expense; and those residing, for however long a period, at Mekka have never been known to marry there; which is the more remarkable, as other natives of India, who live here for any length of time, usually take wives, although they may have been already married at home. The same stories are prevalent respecting them, which are told of the Syrian Ismayleys, to my account of whom I must refer the reader. [See Travels in Syria and the Holy Land.] My endeavours to collect authentic information on the subject of their secret doctrines were as fruitless here as they had [p.120] been in Syria, where it was vaguely reported that the chief seat of the Ismayleys was in India, and that they kept up regular correspondence between that country and Syria. A sect of �Light- ­extinguishers� is said to exist in India, as well as in Mesopotamia, and to them the Ismayleys of Syria and those of Mekka may, perhaps, belong. Those whom I saw at Mekka have rather the features of Persians than of Indians, and are taller and stouter men than Indians in general. [The people here mentioned by our author were probably some Parsees from Surat or Bombay.] About the middle of the Soueyga, where the street is only four paces in breadth, are stone benches on each side. Here Abyssinian male and female slaves are exposed for sale; and as beauty is an universal attraction, these benches are always surrounded by hadjys, both old and young, who often pretend to bargain with the dealers, for the purpose of viewing the slave-girls, during a few moments, in some adjoining apartment. Many of these slaves are carried from hence to the northern parts of Turkey. The price of the handsomest was from one hundred and ten to one hundred and twenty dollars. At the extremity of the Soueyga, the street is covered with a high vaulted roof of stone, supported on each side by several massy buildings, serving as warehouses to the wealthy merchants; they were the work of one Mohammed, Pasha of Damascus, who lived several centuries ago, and now belong to the mosque. This, being the coolest spot in the town during mid-day, is on that account the most frequented. In the Soueyga all the gentlemen hadjys take their morning and evening lounge, and smoke their pipes. I formed an acquaintance with one of the perfume- sellers, and daily passed an hour in the morning, and another in the afternoon, seated on the bench before his shop, smoking my nargyle, and treating my friend with coffee. Here I heard the news:--whether any great hadjy had arrived the preceding night; what law-suits had been carried before [p.121] the Kadhy; what was going forward in Mohammed Aly�s army; or what great commercial bargains had been concluded. Sometimes European news would be discussed, such as the last fortunes of Bonaparte; for the pilgrims who arrived from Constantinople and Greece were continually bringing news from Europe. I usually spent the early part of each morning, and the later part of the evening, in walking about the town, and frequenting the coffee­houses in its extremities, where I might meet with Bedouins, and, by treating them with a cup of coffee, soon engage them to talk about their country and their nation. During the mid-day hours I staid at home: the first part of the night I passed in the great square of the mosque, where a cooling breeze always reigns; here, seated upon a carpet, which my slave spread for me, I indulged in recollections of far distant regions, while the pilgrims were busily engaged in praying and walking round the Kaaba. At the eastern extremity of the Soueyga, the street changes its name into that of Shamye, which is applied also to several by-streets on either side, those on the right leading towards the mountain, and those on the left towards the mosque. At the further end the Shamye joins the quarter of Shebeyka and Bab el Omar. This is a well-built part of the town, chiefly inhabited by rich merchants, or by olemas attached to the mosque. There are few shops in the main street except during the pilgrimage, when many are opened, in which the Syrian merchants display the produce and manufactures of their country; a circumstance from which it derives its name. In these shops are found silk stuffs from Damascus and Aleppo; cambric manufactured in the district of Nablous; gold and silver thread from Aleppo; Bedouin handkerchiefs, called keffie, of Baghdad and Damascus fabric; silk from Lebanon; fine carpets from Anadolia and the Turkman Bedouins; abbas from Hamah; dried fruits and the kammereddyn from Damascus; pistacios from Aleppo, &c. Among all the Syrians at Mekka, I could never discover any indi­vidual whom I had known in his own country, except the son of the chief of Palmyra, who, however, did not recognise me. He had come [p.122] with two or three hundred camels, to transport the baggage of the Pasha of Damascus. In returning through the Shamye towards the Soueyga, we find, on the north side of these streets, a quarter called Garara, the most reputable of the town, and perhaps the best built, where the weal­thiest merchants have their houses. The two first merchants of the Hedjaz, Djeylany and Sakkat, live here for the greater part of the year, and only go to Djidda (where they also have establishments,) when the arrival of the Indian fleet demands their presence at that place. In the quarter of Garara, the women of Mohammed Aly Pasha, with a train of eunuchs attached to them, have now taken up their abode. The houses are all two or three stories high, many of them gaudily painted, and containing spacious apartments. Here Sherif Ghaleb built a palace, the finest of all those he possessed at Mekka, and resided in it principally during the winter months, when he divided his time between this mansion and that near the mosque. Some military chiefs have now taken up their quarters in this palace, which will soon be ruined. It is distinguished from the other houses of Mekka only by its size, and the number of windows; having neither a fine portico, nor any other display of architecture. Near the palace, upon a hill which may be described as within the town, Ghaleb built a fort, flanked by strong towers, but of much smaller size than the great castle. When the Turkish army advanced towards the Hedjaz, he mounted it with guns, and stored it well with provisions; but the garrison, like that of the castle, dis­persed immediately after he was made prisoner. The hill upon which it stands is known by the name of Djebel Lala, and is often mentioned by Arabian poets. Opposite to this hill, in a S.E. direc­tion, upon the summit of a mountain beyond the precincts of the town, stands another small fort, which was also repaired by Ghaleb. It is called Djebel Hindy, from the circumstance of a great sheikh or devotee from Cashmere having been buried there. The tower is now inhabited by a few Indian families, who enjoy the advantage of an excellent cistern for rain-water. This mountain is also called by the [p.123] present Mekkawys �Djebel Keykaan�--an appellation more ancient probably than that of Mekka itself. Azraky, however, places the Djebel Keykaan more to the north, and says that the name is derived from the cries and the clashing of arms of the Mekkawy army, which was stationed there, when the Yemen army, under Toba, had taken possession of the hill of Djyad. Between the two castle-hills, the space is filled with poor, half-ruined houses, which are principally inha­bited by the lowest class of Indians established at Mekka. In turning eastward from the Garara, and passing the quarter called Rekoube, which, in point of building, nearly equals the Garara, although it is not reckoned so genteel a residence, we arrive at the great street called Modaa, which is a continuation of the Mesaa, and then retrace our steps through the latter to the vicinity of El Szafa, that we may survey the eastern quarters of the town. Near the Szafa branches off a broad street, running almost parallel with the Modaa, to the east of it, called Geshashye. Here, among many smaller dwellings, are several well-built, and a few lofty edifices; a number of coffee-houses; several gunsmiths� shops; and a bath. Here resides the Hakem, or superintendant of the police, who is the first officer under the Sherif at Mekka. Part of the street is built on the lower declivity of the eastern mountain, called Djebel Kobeys, to which narrow, dirty, and steep lanes lead up on that side. The Geshashye is a favourite quarter of the pilgrims, being broad, airy, and open to the northerly winds. I lived here during the last days of Ramadhan, in September, 1814, when I first arrived at Mekka from Tayf. This street, as it proceeds, adopts the name of Haret Souk el Leyl, which comprises an extensive quarter on the East, where the Moled e� Nebby, or Prophet�s birth-place, is shown, and which adjoins the Moamele, or establishment of the potteries. The by-streets close to the Moled are denominated Shab el Moled, or �Rocks of the Moled,� the ground which rises here being covered with stones. The Moamele lies on the side of Djebel Kobeys, and comprises about a dozen furnaces, of which the chief productions are jars, especially [p.124] those used in carrying the water of the celebrated well Zemzem. These Moamele jars, although prettily wrought, are too heavy, dif­fering in this respect from the beautiful pottery of Upper Egypt and Baghdad, which are so slight that an empty jar may be thrown down by a mere puff of wind. The Moamele alone supplies all the Hedjaz, at present, with these water-vessels; and few hadjys return to their homes without some jars, as specimens of Mekkawy ingenuity. Farther on, the Souk el Leyl takes the name of El Ghazze, and so are called both sides of the main street, which still forms a continuation of the Geshashye. Several deep wells of brackish water are situated in this street. Here also are found the shops of carpenters, upholsterers from Turkey, undertakers, who make the seryrs, or stands, upon which the Mekkawys sleep, as well as those on which they are carried to the grave. Wholesale dealers in fruits and vegetables, which are brought from Tayf and Wady Fatme, here dispose of their stock to the retail dealers early in the morning. At the northern end of the Ghazze, where the street widens consi­derably, is held a daily market of camels and cows. On the east side, towards the mountain, and partly on its declivity, stands the quarter called Shab Aly, adjoining the Shab el Moled: here is shown the venerated place of Aly�s nativity. Both these quarters, called Shab, (i.e. rock,) are among the most ancient parts of the town, where the Koreysh formerly lived; they are even now inhabited principally by sherifs, and do not contain any shops. The houses are spacious, and in an airy situation. Beyond the cattle-market in the Ghazze, the dwelling-houses terminate, and low shops and sheds occupy both sides of the street. This part is called Souk el Haddadeyn; and here blacksmiths and Turkish locksmiths have their shops. A little further, the street opens into that called Mala, which is itself a continuation of the Modaa, and forms the division between the eastern and western parts of the town, running due north along the slightly ascending slope of the valley. The Modaa and the Mala, (which latter means [p.125] the High Place, in opposition to the Mesfale, or the low quarter,) are filled with shops on both sides. Here are found grocers, drug­gists, corn-merchants, tobacconists, haberdashers, sandal-makers, and a great number of dealers in old clothes. In the Modaa is a large corn magazine, formerly a public school; and there is another in the Mala. From these, the provision-caravans for the Turkish army at Tayf take their departure: public auctions are held in this place every morning. At the northern end of the Mala is a market, whi­ther Bedouins from all quarters bring their sheep for sale. Here, also, are the butchers� shops, in which beef, mutton, and camels� flesh are sold; and in the same street is a small chapel, or Mesdjed, [I believe this to be the Mesdjed mentioned by historians under the name of Mesdjed Rayet. El Azraky speaks of four or five other mosques at Mekka in his time.] for daily prayers, the great mosque being distant; but the Friday�s prayers are always said in the latter. Towards this northern end of the Mala, where it joins the Souk el Haddadeyn, the stone houses terminate, and are succeeded by a single row of low shops and stands on each side, where provisions are sold to the eastern Bedouins, who come to Mekka for grain. Here is a coffee-house, called Kahwet el Hashashein, where are sold the intoxicating preparations of hashysh and bendj, which are mixed and smoked with tobacco. This house is frequented by all the lowest and most disorderly persons of the town. Sherif Ghaleb had imposed a heavy tax on the sale of hashysh, in order to discourage a practice directly violating the law. The Mala is known also under the appellation of Haret el Naga, which is derived from the ancient name of Wady el Naga, given to this part of the valley of Mekka. In the by-streets of the Modaa the richest Indian traders have their houses; here they receive customers, being too proud to open public shops or warehouses. An Indian of this quarter, originally from Surat, called El Shamsy, was esteemed the wealthiest man in the Hedjaz; yet his mercantile concerns were much less extensive than those of Djeylany, and several others. Though possessing [p.126] several hundred thousand pounds sterling, this man bargained with me personally for nearly an hour and a half about a muslin shawl, not worth more than four dollars! In the Modaa, a high, broad mole or embankment was thrown across the valley, with an iron gate, by Omar Ibn el Khatab, to resist the torrents flowing in this direction towards the mosque, during heavy rains. Some vestiges of it remained till the fourteenth century. While it existed, the pilgrims on arriving at Mekka used to enjoy from its summit the first sight of the Kaaba; there also they recited prayers, from which circumstance the street takes its name, Modaa meaning � place of prayers.� Between the Modaa and Mala, on the one side, and the Ghazze and Geshashye on the other, are several quarters consisting of tole­rable buildings, but of extremely dirty and narrow streets, from which the filth is never removed, and fresh air is always excluded. Here we find the Zokak e Seiny, or �Chinese street,� where gold and silversmiths have their shops. They work in the coarsest manner, but are very much employed, principally in making silver rings for men and women--ornaments very generally used among the Arabs. To the south of this quarter is the Zokak el Hadjar (called also Zokak el Merfek), or the �street of the stone,� which comprises the birth-place of Fatme, the daughter of Mohammed; and of Abou Beker, the prophet�s successor in the Khalifat. This street takes its name from the hadjar, or stone, which used miraculously to greet Mohammed with the salutation of �Salam aleyk,� whenever he passed this way on his return from the Kaaba. It has been mute since the days of the prophet, but is still shown, projecting a little from the wall of a house, which, in honour of it has been white- washed. We now return towards the Mala, a little beyond the spot where it joins the Ghazze. The shops terminate, and a broad, sandy plain commences, on which there are only a few detached coffee-houses. This may be called the extremity of the town. What lies farther towards the north, must be considered as forming part of the suburbs. Continuing along the plain, we find on each side of the [p.127] road large birkets, or reservoirs of water, for the accommodation of the pilgrim-caravans: they can be filled from the aqueduct which passes this way towards the town. Of these birkets, one is for the Egyptian caravan; another for the Syrian: they were constructed in A.H. 821, are entirely cased with stone, and continue in a state of perfect repair. Similar monuments of the munificent Turkish Sul­tans are found at every station of the Hadj, from Medina as far as Damascus and Aleppo. Some of those which I saw to the southward of Damascus, appeared more solid in their construction than the birkets of Mekka: that appropriated to the Egyptian pilgrims is about one hundred and sixty feet square, and from thirty to thirty­five feet in depth. When the birket contains from eight to ten feet of water, the supply is deemed sufficient for the caravan. These reservoirs are never completely filled. As the aqueduct furnishes water but scantily, adjoining to the western birket are some acres, irrigated by means of a well, and producing vegetables. Near it, also, is a small mosque, called Djama è Soleymanye, in a state of decay, and no longer used for religious purposes; but serving, at present, to lodge a few Turkish soldiers. It belongs to the quarter named El Soleymanye, which extends from Djebel Lala close to the western mountain, as far as the cemeteries beyond the birkets. It does not contain any good houses; and I heard that it derives its name from the Soleymanye, as the Muselmans call the people of Kandahar, Afghanistan, Cashmere, and several other countries on this side of the Indus. It is said that some descendants of those people who were the original settlers, still reside here, mixed with many Indians. It appears, however, from Kotobeddyn�s history, that Sultan Solyman erected, about A.H. 980, a mosque in this quarter. The mosque at least may be supposed to have borrowed its name from the founder. The inhabitants of Soleymanye are Muselmans of the Hanefy sect, the first of the four orthodox divi­sions, and not disciples of Aly, like the Persians; many of whom come yearly to the Hadj of Mekka, either by sea from Bombay or Bassora, or by land, travelling as dervises, along the southern provinces of [p.128] Persia to Baghdad, and through Mesopotamia and Syria to Egypt. I have seen many who had come by that route; they appeared to be men of a much better and more vigorous character than the gene­rality of Indians. Opposite to this quarter El Soleymanye, on the eastern mountain, and adjoining the Ghazze and Shab Aly, is a half-ruined district, called Shab Aamer, inhabited by Bedouin pedlars of the Thekyf and Koreysh tribes, and by a few poor sherif families. In this quarter are some large mills, worked by horses, for the Turkish governor: the town, I believe, does not contain any others of considerable size. It is the custom at Mekka to use hand-mills, which are usually turned by the slaves of the family, or, among the poorer classes, by the women. Here, also, are the only places in Mekka (or perhaps in the Hedjaz) where linen and cotton are dyed with indigo and saffron: woollen cloth is not dyed here. As numbers of the public women reside at Shab Aamer, this quarter is not ranked among the most respectable in Mekka. Sherif Ghaleb imposed a regular tax upon those females, and required an additional payment from such of them as, in the time of the pilgrim­age, followed the hadjys to Arafat. A similar tax is levied at Cairo, and in all the great provincial towns of Egypt. Mekka abounds with the frail sisterhood, whose numbers are increased during the Hadj by adventurers from foreign countries. They are somewhat more decorous than the public women in Egypt, and never appear in the streets without veils. Among them are many Abyssinian slaves, whose former masters, according to report, share the profits of their vocation. Some are slaves belonging to Mekkawys. The Arabian poets make frequent allusions to Shab Aamer; thus Ibn el Faredh says:-- �Is Shab Aamer, since we left it, still inhabited? Is it to this day the place of meeting for lovers?� [See Sir William Jones's Comment de Poës. Asiat., on the subject of a poem by Ibn Faredh, which abounds with local allusions to Mekka.] [p.129] Proceeding from the birkets northward over the plain, we come to an insulated house, of good size and construction, belonging to the Sherif, in which some of Ghaleb�s favourites once resided. Opposite to this building, a paved causeway leads towards the western hills, through which is an opening that seems artificial. El Azraky applies the name Djebel el Hazna to this part of the mountain; and says that the road was cut through the rock by Yahia Ibn Khold Ibn Barmak. On the other side of the opening, the road descends into the plain of Sheikh Mahmoud, so named from the tomb of a saint, round which the Syrian pilgrims generally encamp. Sherif Ghaleb erected upon the hill, on both sides of the narrow road, which is formed in rude steps, (whether natural or artificial, it would be difficult to say,) two watch-towers, similar to those already described. On both sides of the causeway, in the valley of Mekka, extend the burying-grounds, where most of the inhabitants of the city have their family tombs. A little beyond the Sherif�s house just mentioned, and at the termi­nation of the Mala, stands the tomb of Abou Taleb, an uncle of Mo­hammed, and father of Aly. The Wahabys reduced the building which covered the tomb to a mere heap of rubbish; and Mohammed Aly Pasha has not thought fit to rebuild it. Abou Taleb is the great patron of the city; and there are many persons at Mekka who, though they would have little scruple in breaking an oath taken before God, yet would be afraid of invoking the name of Abou Taleb in confirmation of a falsehood. �I swear by the Mosque�--�I swear by the Kaaba,� are ejaculations constantly used by the Mekkawys to impose upon strangers; but to swear by Abou Taleb is a more serious imprecation, and is seldom heard upon such occasions. Opposite to the ruined tomb stands a public fountain, consisting of a trough built of stone, fifty or sixty feet in length, which is daily filled with water from the aqueduct. Near it grow a few trees. No buildings are seen beyond the fountain, till we come to a large palace of the Sherif, which is surrounded by high walls flanked with towers, and contains within the inclosure a spacious court-yard. In the time of the Sherif it was well garrisoned, and during his wars with the Wahabys he often resided here, as he could set out from hence upon a [p.130] secret attack or expedition, without its becoming immediately known in the city. The building now serves as a barrack for the Turkish soldiers. To the north of this palace lies the quarter or suburb called Moabede, which consists partly of low and ill-built stone houses, and partly of huts constructed of brushwood; it is wholly inhabited by Bedouins, who have become settlers here, for the purpose of carrying on a traffic, principally in corn, dates, and cattle, between the town and their native tribes. I have seen among them Arabs of the tribes of Koreysh, Thekyf, Hodheyl, and Ateybe; and it was said that, in time of peace, individuals of all the great tribes of the Desert, and of Nedjed, are occasionally found here. They live, as I have already observed in speaking of those who occupy another part of Mekka, much in the same manner as they would do in the Desert. Their houses contain no furniture but such as is to be found under the tent of a wealthy Bedouin. Being at a distance from the great mosque, they have en­closed a square space with low walls, where such of them as pretend to any regularity in their devotions (which seldom happens among Bedouins), recite their prayers upon the sand, according to the custom of the Desert. The Turkish governor of Mekka has not thought proper to place here any of his soldiers, for which the suburb is much indebted to him. The Moabede is, by its situation, and the pursuits of its inhabitants, so much separated from the city, that a woman here had not entered the town for the last three years, as she herself assured me; although the Bedouin females walk about the valley with freedom. The valley of Mekka has here two outlets: on the north side is a narrow passage, defended by two watch-towers: it leads to Wady Fatme. At the eastern extremity, the Moabede is terminated by a garden and pleasure- house of the Sherif, where Ghaleb used frequently to pass the hours of noon. The garden is enclosed by high walls and towers, and forms a fortified post in advance of the town. It contains date and nebek and a few other fruit-trees, the verdure and shade of which must be particularly agreeable. In the time of Ghaleb, the entrance was always open to the people of Mekka. The house is badly [p.131] built, and is not one of Ghaleb�s works. During his last wars with the Wahabys, the latter obtained possession of this residence, and fought for several weeks with the soldiers of Mekka, who were posted at the neighbouring palace or barrack to the south; and who, having laid a mine, and blown up a part of the walls, forced the Wahabys to retreat. Ghaleb subsequently repaired the damage. Some Turkish soldiers now live in the house, which is already half ruined by them. A public fountain of sweet water, no longer in use, with a pretty cupola built over it, stands on one side of the garden; on the other is a large well of brackish water: many such are dispersed over the Moabede. The road from Mekka, eastward, towards Arafat and Tayf, passes by this house; at a short distance beyond it the valley widens, and here the Egyptian Hadj establishes its encampment, part of which generally stretches over the plain towards the birket. Formerly, the Syrian caravan used to encamp at the same place. Between the garden­house and the palace or barrack just mentioned, the aqueduct of Mekka is conducted above ground for about one hundred paces, in a channel of stone, plaistered on the inside, and rising four feet above the surface. This is the only place in the valley of Mekka where it is visible. As soon as we pass these extreme precincts of Mekka, the Desert presents itself; for neither gardens, trees, nor pleasure-houses, line the avenues to the town, which is surrounded on every side by barren sandy valleys, and equally barren hills. A stranger placed on the great road to Tayf, just beyond the turn of the hill, in the immediate neigh­bourhood of the Sherif�s garden-house, would think himself as far removed from human society as if he were in the midst of the Nubian Desert. But this may be wholly ascribed to the apathy of the inhabitants, and their indifference for agricultural pursuits. Numerous wells, dispersed throughout the town, prove that water may be easily obtained at about thirty feet below the surface. In Arabia, wherever the ground can be irrigated by wells, the sands may be soon made productive. The industry of a very few years might thus render Mekka and its environs as remarkable for gardens and plantations, as it now is for absolute sterility. El Azraky speaks [p.132] of gardens in this valley, and describes different springs and wells that no longer exist, having probably been choked up by the violent torrents. El Fasy likewise affirms that in his days the town contained no less than fifty-eight wells. But, in the earliest times of Arabian history, this place was certainly barren; and the Koran styles it accordingly �the valley without seeds.� Azraky further says, that before houses were constructed here by the Kossay, this valley abounded with acacias and various thorny trees. Nothing is more difficult than to compute exactly the population of eastern towns, where registers are never kept, and where even the number of houses can scarcely be ascertained. To judge from appearances, and by comparison with European towns, in which the amount of population is well known, may be very fallacious. The private habitations in the East are generally (though the Hedjaz forms an exception to this rule) of one story only, and therefore contain fewer inmates in proportion than European dwellings. On the other hand, Eastern towns have very narrow streets, are without public squares or large market-places, and their miserable suburbs are in general more nurously peopled than their principal and best streets. Travellers, however, in passing rapidly through towns, may be easily deceived, for they see only the bazars and certain streets, in which the greater part of the male population is usually assembled during the day. Thus it happens that recent and respectable authorities have stated two hundred thousand souls as the population of Aleppo; four hundred thousand as that of Damascus; and three hundred thousand as that of Cairo. My estimate of the population of the three great Syrian towns is as follows:--Damascus two hundred and fifty thousand; Hamah (of which, however, I must speak with less confidence) from sixty to one hundred thousand; and Aleppo, daily dwindling into decay, between eighty and ninety thousand. To Cairo I would allow at most two hundred thousand. As to Mekka, which I have seen both before and after the Hadj, and know, perhaps, more thoroughly than any other town of the East, the result of my inquiries gives between twenty-five and thirty thousand stationary inhabitants, for the population of the city and suburbs; besides from three to four thousand Abyssinian and [p.133] black slaves: its habitations are capable of containing three times this number. In the time of Sultan Selym I. (according to Kotobeddyn, in A.H. 923) a census was taken of the inhabitants of Mekka, previous to a gratuitous distribution of corn among them, and the number was found to be twelve thousand, men, women, and children. The same author shows that, in earlier times, the population was much more considerable; for when Abou Dhaher, the chief of the Carmatis, (a heretic sect of Moslims) sacked Mekka, in A.H. 314, thirty thousand of the inhabitants were killed by his ferocious soldiers. [p.134] DESCRIPTION OF THE BEITULLAH, OR GREAT MOSQUE, AT MECCAH. WHERE the valley is wider than in other interior parts of the town, stands the mosque, called Beitullah, or El Haram, a building remarkable only on account of the Kaaba, which it encloses; for there are several mosques in other places of the East nearly equal to this in size, and much superior to it in beauty. The Kaaba stands in an oblong square, two hundred and fifty paces long, and two hundred broad, none of the sides of which run quite in a straight line, though at first sight the whole appears to be of a regular shape. This open square is enclosed on the eastern side by a colonnade: the pillars stand in a quadruple row: they are three deep on the other sides, and united by pointed arches, every four of which support a small dome, plastered and whitened on the outside. These domes, according to Kotobeddyn, are one hundred and fifty-two in number. Along the whole colonnade, on the four sides, lamps are suspended from the arches. Some are lighted every night, and all during the nights of Ramadhan. The pillars are above twenty feet in height, and generally from one foot and a half to one foot and three quarters in diameter; but little regularity has been observed in regard to them. Some are of white marble, granite, or porphyry, but the greater number are of common stone of the Mekka mountains. El Fasy states the whole at five hundred and eighty-nine, and says they are all of marble, excepting one hundred and twenty-six, which are of common stone, and three of composition. Kotobeddyn reckons five hundred and fifty-five, of which, according to him, three hundred and eleven are of marble, and the rest of stone taken from the neighbouring mountains; but neither of these authors lived to see [p.135] the latest repairs of the mosque, after the destruction occasioned by a torrent, in A.D. 1626. Between every three or four columns stands an octagonal one, about four feet in thickness. On the east side are two shafts of reddish gray granite, in one piece, and one fine gray porphyry column with slabs of white feldspath. On the north side is one red granite column, and one of fine-grained red porphyry: these are probably the columns which Kotobeddyn states to have been brought from Egypt, and principally from Akhmim (Panopolis), when the chief El Mohdy enlarged the mosque, in A.H. 163. Among the four hundred and fifty or five hundred columns, which form the enclosure, I found not any two capitals or bases exactly alike: the capitals are of coarse Saracen workmanship; some of them, which had served for former buildings, by the ignorance of the workmen have been placed upside down upon the shafts. I observed about half a dozen marble bases of good Grecian workmanship. A few of the marble columns bear Arabic or Cufic inscriptions, in which I read the dates 863 and 762. (A.H). A column on the east side exhibits a very ancient Cufic inscription, somewhat defaced, which I could neither read nor copy. Those shafts, formed of the Mekka stone, cut principally from the side of the mountain near the Shebeyka quarter, are mostly in three pieces, but the marble shafts are in one piece. Some of the columns are strengthened with broad iron rings or bands, as in many other Saracen buildings of the East: they were first employed here by Ibn Dhaher Berkouk, King of Egypt, in rebuilding the mosque, which had been destroyed by fire in A. H. 802. This temple has been so often ruined and repaired, that no traces of remote antiquity are to be found about it. On the inside of the great wall which encloses the colonnades, a single Arabic inscription is seen, in large characters, but containing merely the names of Mohammed and his immediate successors: Abou Beker, Omar, Othman, and Aly. The name of Allah, in large characters, occurs also in several places. On the outside, over the gates, are long inscriptions, in the Solouth character, commemorating the names of those by whom the gates were built, long and minute details of which are given by the historians of Mekka. The inscription on the south side, over Bab [p.136] Ibrahim, is most conspicuous; all that side was rebuilt by the Egyptian Sultan El Ghoury, in A.H. 906. Over the Bab Aly and Bab Abbas is a long inscription, also in the Solouth character, placed there by Sultan Murad Ibn Soleyman, in A.H. 984, after he had repaired the whole building. Kotobeddyn has given this inscription at length; it occupies several pages in his history, and is a monument of the Sultan's vanity. This side of the mosque having escaped destruction in 1626, the inscription remains uninjured. Some parts of the walls and arches are gaudily painted, in stripes of yellow, red, and blue, as are also the minarets. Paintings of flowers, in the usual Muselman style, are no where seen; the floors of the colonnades are paved with large stones badly cemented together. Seven paved causeways lead from the colonnades towards the Kaaba, or holy house, in the centre. They are of sufficient breadth to admit four or five persons to walk abreast, and they are elevated about nine inches above the ground. Between these causeways, which are covered with fine gravel or sand, grass appears growing in several places, produced by the Zemzem water dozing out of the jars, which are placed in the ground in long rows during the day. The whole area of the mosque is upon a lower level than any of the streets surrounding it. There is a descent of eight or ten steps from the gates on the north side into the platform of the colonnade, and of three or four steps from the gates, on the south side. Towards the middle of this area stands the Kaaba; it is one hundred and fifteen paces from the north colonnade, and eighty-eight from the south. For this want of symmetry we may readily account, the Kaaba having existed prior to the mosque, which was built around it, and enlarged at different periods. The Kaaba is an oblong massive structure, eighteen paces in length, fourteen in breadth, and from thirty-five to forty feet in height. I took the bearing of one of its longest sides, and found it to be N.N.W. ½ W. It is constructed of the grey Mekka stone, in large blocks of different sizes, joined together in a very rough manner, and with bad cement. It was entirely rebuilt as it now stands in A.D. 1627: the torrent, in the preceding year, had thrown down three of its sides; and preparatory to its re-erection, the fourth [p.137] side was, according to Asamy, pulled down, after the olemas, or learned divines, had been consulted on the question, whether mortals might be permitted to destroy any part of the holy edifice without incurring the charge of sacrilege and infidelity. The Kaaba stands upon a base two feet in height, which presents a sharp inclined plane; its roof being flat, it has at a distance the appearance of a perfect cube. The only door which affords entrance, and which is opened but two or three times in the year, is on the north side, and about seven feet above the ground. In entering it, therefore, wooden steps are used--of them I shall speak hereafter. In the first periods of Islam, however, when it was rebuilt in A.H. 64, by Ibn Zebeyr, chief of Mekka, the nephew of Aysha, it had two doors even with the ground-floor of the mosque. The present door (which, according to Azraky, was brought hither from Constantinople in 1633) is wholly coated with silver, and has several gilt ornaments. Upon its threshold are placed every night various small lighted wax candles, and perfuming-pans, filled with musk, aloe-wood, &c. At the North-east corner of the Kaaba, near the door, is the famous �Black Stone;� it forms a part of the sharp angle of the building, at four or five feet above the ground. It is an irregular oval, about seven inches in diameter, with an undulated surface, composed of about a dozen smaller stones of different sizes and shapes, well joined together with a small quantity of cement, and perfectly smoothed: it looks as if the whole had been broken into many pieces by a violent blow, and then united again. It is very difficult to determine accurately the quality of this stone, which has been worn to its present surface by the millions of touches and kisses it has received. It appeared to me like a lava, containing several small extraneous particles, of a whitish and of a yellowish substance. Its colour is now a deep reddish brown, approaching to black: it is surrounded on all sides by a border, composed of a substance which I took to be a close cement of pitch and gravel, of a similar, but not quite the same brownish colour. This border serves to support its detached pieces; it is two or three inches in breadth, and rises a little above the surface of the stone: Both the border and the stone itself are encircled by a silver band, broader below than above [p.138] and on the two sides, with a considerable swelling below, as if a part of the stone were hidden under it. The lower part of the border is studded with silver nails. In the south-east corner of the Kaaba, or, as the Arabs call it, Roken el Yemány, there is another stone, about five feet from the ground; it is one foot and a half in length, and two inches in breadth, placed upright, and of the common Mekka stone. This the people walking round the Kaaba touch only with the right hand: they do not kiss it. On the north side of the Kaaba, just by its door, and close to the wall, is a slight hollow in the ground, lined with marble, and sufficiently large to admit of three persons sitting. Here it is thought meritorious to pray: the spot is called El Madjen, and supposed to be that where Abraham and his son Ismayl kneaded. the chalk and mud which they used in building the Kaaba; and near this Madjen, the former is said to have placed the large stone upon which he stood while working at the masonry. On the basis of the Kaaba, just over the Madjen, is an ancient Cufic inscription; but this I was unable to decipher, and had no opportunity of copying it. I do not find it mentioned by any of the historians. On the west side of the Kaaba, about two feet below its summit, is the famous Myzab, or water-spout, through which the rain-water collected on the roof of the building is discharged, so as to fall upon the ground; it is about four feet in length, and six inches in breadth, as well as I could judge from below, with borders equal in height to its breadth. At the mouth, hangs what is called the beard of the Myzab, a gilt board, over which the water falls. This spout was sent hither from Constantinople in A.H. 981, and is reported to be of pure gold. The pavement round the Kaaba, below the Myzab, was laid down in A.H. 826, and consists of various coloured stones, forming a very handsome specimen of mosaic. There are two large slabs of fine verde-antico in the centre, which, according to Makrizi, [See, in his work, the chapter �On the Excellencies of Egypt.�] were sent thither as [p.139] presents from Cairo, in A.H. 241. This is the spot where, according to Mohammedan tradition, Ismayl, the son of Ibrahim, or Abraham, and his mother Hagar, are buried; and here it is meritorious for the pilgrim to recite a prayer of two rikats. On this west side is a semicircular wall, the two extremities of which are in a line with the sides of the Kaaba, and distant from it three or four feet, leaving an opening which leads to the burying-place of Ismayl. The wall bears the name of El Hatym, and the area which it encloses is called Hedjer, or Hedjer Ismayl, on account of its being separated from the Kaaba: the wall itself, also, is sometimes so called; and the name Hatym is given by the historians to the space of ground between the Kaaba and the wall on one side, and the Bir Zemzem and Makam Ibrahim on the other. The present Mekkawys, however, apply the name Hatym to the wall only. Tradition says that the Kaaba once extended as far as the Hatym, and that this side having fallen down just at the time of the Hadj, the expenses of repairing it were demanded from the pilgrims, under a pretence that the revenues of government were not acquired in a manner sufficiently pure to admit of their application towards a purpose so sacred, whilst the money of the hadjys would possess the requisite sanctity. The sum, however, obtained from them, proved very inadequate: all that could be done, therefore, was to raise a wall, which marked the space formerly occupied by the Kaaba. This tradition, although current among the Metowefs, is at variance with history, which declares that the Hedjer was built by the Beni Koreysh, who contracted the dimensions of the Kaaba; that it was united to the building by Hadjadj, and again separated from it by Ibn Zebeyr. It is asserted by Fasy, that a part of the Hedjer, as it now stands, was never comprehended within the Kaaba. The law regards it as a portion of the Kaaba, inasmuch as it is esteemed equally meritorious to pray in the Hadjer as in the Kaaba itself; and the pilgrims who have not an opportunity of entering the latter, are permitted to affirm upon oath that they have prayed in the Kaaba, although they may have only prostrated themselves within the enclosure of the Hatym. [p.140] The wall is built of solid stone, about five feet in height, and four in thickness, cased all over with white marble, and inscribed with prayers and invocations, neatly sculptured upon the stone in modern characters. These and the casing are the work of El Ghoury, the Egyptian Sultan, in A.H. 917, as we learn from Kotobeddyn. The walk round the Kaaba is performed on the outside of the wall--the nearer to it the better. The four sides of the Kaaba are covered with a black silk stuff, hanging down, and leaving the roof bare. [The Wahabys, during the first year of their residence at Mekka, covered the Kaaba with a red kesoua, worked at El Hassa, of the same stuff as the fine Arabian Abbas.] This curtain, or veil, is called kesoua, and renewed annually at the time of the Hadj, being brought from Cairo, where it is manufactured at the Grand Seignior�s expense. [During the first century of Islam, the kesoua was never taken away, the new one being annually put over the old. But the Mekkawys at length began to fear that the Kaaba might yield under such an accumulation, and the Khalif El Mohdy Abou Abdallah removed the coverings in A.H. 160. (See Makrizy.)] On it are various prayers interwoven in the same colour as the stuff, and it is, therefore, extremely difficult to read them. A little above the middle, and running round the whole building, is a line of similar inscriptions, worked in gold thread. That part of the kesoua which covers the door is richly embroidered with silver. Openings are left for the Black Stone, and the other in the south-east corner, which thus remain uncovered. The kesoua is always of the same form and pattern; that which I saw on my first visit to the mosque, was in a decayed state, and full of holes. On the 25th of the month Zul� Kade the old one is taken away, and the Kaaba continues without a cover for fifteen days. It is then said that El Kaaba Yehrem, �The Kaaba has assumed the ihram,� which lasts until the tenth of Zul Hadje, the day of the return of the pilgrims from Arafat to Wady Muna, when the new kesoua is put on. During the first days, the new covering is tucked up by cords fastened to the roof, so as to leave the lower part of the building exposed: having remained thus for some days, it is let down, and covers the whole structure, being then tied to strong brass [p.141] rings in the basis of the Kaaba. The removal of the old kesoua was performed in a very indecorous manner; and a contest ensued among the hadjys and people of Mekka, both young and old, about a few rags of it. The hadjys even collect the dust which sticks to the walls of the Kaaba, under the kesoua, and sell it, on their return, as a sacred relic. At the moment the building is covered, and completely bare, (uryan, as it is styled,) a crowd of women assemble round it, rejoicing with cries called �Walwalou.� The black colour of the kesoua, covering a large cube in the midst of a vast square, gives to the Kaaba, at first sight, a very singular and imposing appearance; as it is not fastened down tightly, the slightest breeze causes it to move in slow undulations, which are hailed with prayers by the congregation assembled around the building, as a sign of the presence of its guardian angels, whose wings, by their motion, are supposed to be the cause of the waving of the covering. Seventy thousand angels have the Kaaba in their holy care, and are ordered to transport it to Paradise, when the trumpet of the last judgment shall be sounded. The clothing of the Kaaba was an ancient custom of the Pagan Arabs. The first kesoua, says El Azraky, was put on by Asad Toba, one of the Hamyarite kings of Yemen: before Islam it had two coverings, one for winter and the other for summer. In the early ages of Islam it was sometimes white and sometimes red, and consisted of the richest brocade. In subsequent times it was furnished by the different Sultans of Baghdad, Egypt, or Yemen, according as their respective influence over Mekka prevailed; for the clothing of the Kaaba appears to have always been considered as a proof of sovereignty over the Hedjaz. Kalaoun, Sultan of Egypt, assumed to himself and successors the exclusive right, and from them the Sultans at Constantinople have inherited it. Kalaoun appropriated the revenue of the two large villages Bysous and Sandabeir, in Lower Egypt, to the expense of the kesoua; and Sultan Solyman Ibn Selym subsequently added several others; but the Kaaba has long been deprived of this resource. [Vide Kotobeddyn and Asamy] [p.142] Round the Kaaba is a good pavement of marble, about eight inches below the level of the great square; it was laid in A.H. 981, by order of the Sultan, and describes an irregular oval; it is surrounded by thirty-two slender gilt pillars, or rather poles, between every two of which are suspended seven glass lamps, always lighted after sun-set. Beyond the poles is a second pavement, about eight paces broad, somewhat elevated above the first, but of coarser work; then another, six inches higher, and eighteen paces broad, upon which stand several small buildings; beyond this is the gravelled ground, so that two broad steps may be said to lead from the square down to the Kaaba. The small buildings just mentioned, which surround the Kaaba, are the five Makams, with the well of Zemzem, the arch called Bab-es�-Salam, and the Mambar. Opposite the four sides of the Kaaba stand four other small buildings, where the Imaums of the orthodox Mohammedan sects, the Hanefy, Shafey, Hanbaly, and Maleky, take their station, and guide the congregation in their prayers. The Makam el Maleky, on the south, and that of Hanbaly, opposite the Black Stone, are small pavilions, open on all sides, and supported by four slender pillars, with a light sloping roof, terminating in a point, exactly in the style of Indian pagodas. The Makam el Hanefy, which is the largest, being fifteen paces by eight, is open on all sides, and supported by twelve small pillars; it has an upper story, also open, where the Mueddin who calls to prayers, takes his stand. This was first built in A.H. 923, by Sultan Selym I.; it was afterwards rebuilt by Khoshgeldy, governor of Djidda, in 947; but all the four Makams, as they now stand, were built in A.H. 1074. [Vide Kotobeddyn and Asamy] The Makam-es-Shafey is over the well Zemzem, to which it serves as an upper chamber. Near their respective Makams, the adherents of the four different sects seat themselves for prayers. During my stay at Mekka, the Hanefys always began their prayer first; but according to Muselman custom the Shafeys should pray first in the mosque; then the Hanefys, Malekys, and Hanbalys. The prayer of the Magreb is an exception, which they are all enjoined to utter together. [Vide Fasy.] The Makam el Hanbaly [p.143] is the place where the officers of government, and other great people, are seated during prayers; here the Pasha and the Sherif are placed; and, in their absence, the eunuchs of the temple. These fill the space under this Makam in front, and behind it the female hadjys, who visit the temple, have their places assigned, to which they repair principally for the two evening prayers, few of them being seen in the mosque at the three other daily prayers: they also perform the towaf, or walk round the Kaaba, but generally at night, though it is not uncommon to see them walking in the day-time among the men. The present building which encloses Zemzem, stands close by the Makam Hanbaly, and was erected in A.H. 1072 [Vide Asamy.]: it is of a square shape, and of massive construction, with an entrance to the north, opening into the room which contains the well. This room is beautifully ornamented with marbles of various colours; and adjoining to it, but having a separate door, is a small room with a stone reservoir which is always full of Zemzem water: this the hadjys get to drink by passing their hand with a cup through an iron grated opening, which serves as a window, into the reservoir, without entering the room. The mouth of the well is surrounded by a wall five feet in height, and about ten feet in diameter. Upon this the people stand, who draw up the water, in leathern buckets, an iron railing being so placed as to prevent their falling in. In El Fasy�s time there were eight marble basins in this room, for the purpose of ablution. From before dawn till near midnight, the well-room is constantly filled with visitors. Every one is at liberty to draw up the water for himself, but the labour is generally performed by persons placed there on purpose, and paid by the mosque: they expect also a trifle from those who come to drink, though they dare not demand it. I have been more than once in the room a quarter of an hour before I could get a draught of water, so great was the crowd. Devout hadjys sometimes mount the wall, and draw the bucket for several hours, in the hope of thus expiating their evil deeds. Before the Wahaby invasion, the well Zemzem belonged to the [p.144] Sherif; and the water becoming thus a monopoly, was only to be purchased at a high price; but one of Saoud�s first orders, on his arrival at Mekka, was to abolish this traffic, and the holy water is now dispensed gratis. The Turks consider it a miracle that the water of this well never diminishes, notwithstanding the continual draught from: it there certainly is no diminution in its depth; for by an accurate inspection of the rope by which the buckets are drawn up, I found that the same length was required both at morning and evening to reach the surface of the water. Upon inquiry, I learned from one of the persons who had descended in the time of the Wahabys to repair the masonry, that the water was flowing at the bottom, and that the well is therefore supplied by a subterraneous rivulet. The water is heavy to the taste, and sometimes in its colour resembles milk; but it is perfectly sweet, and differs very much from that of the brackish wells dispersed over the town. When first drawn up, it is slightly tepid, resembling, in this respect, many other fountains of the Hedjaz. Zemzem supplies the whole town, and there is scarcely one family that does not daily fill a jar with the water: this only serves, however, for drinking or for ablution, as it is thought impious to employ water so sacred for culinary purposes or on common occasions. Almost every hadjy, when he repairs to the mosque for evening prayer has a jar of the water placed before him by those who earn their livelihood by performing this service. The water is distributed in the mosque to all who are thirsty for a trifling fee, by water-carriers with large jars upon their backs: these men are also paid by charitable hadjys for supplying the poorer pilgrims with this holy beverage immediately before or after prayers. The water is regarded as an infallible cure for all diseases; and the devotees believe that the more they drink of it, the better their health will be, and their prayers the more acceptable to the Deity. I have seen some of them at the well swallowing such a quantity of it as I should hardly have thought possible. A man who lived in the same house with me, and who was ill of an intermittent fever, repaired every evening to Zemzem, and drank of the water till he was almost fainting, [p.145] after which he lay for several hours extended upon his back on the pavement near the Kaaba, and then returned to renew his draught. When by this practice he was brought to the verge of death, he declared himself fully convinced that the increase of his illness proceeded wholly from his being unable to swallow a sufficient quantity of the water! Many hadjys, not content with drinking it merely, strip themselves in the room, and have buckets of it thrown over them, by which they believe that the heart is purified as well as the outer body. Few pilgrims quit Mekka without carrying away some of this water in copper or tin bottles, either for the purpose of making presents, or for their own use in case of illness, when they drink it, or for ablution after death. I carried away four small bottles, with the intention of offering them as presents to the Mohammedan kings in the Black countries. I have seen it sold at Suez by hadjys returning from Mekka at the rate of one piastre for the quantity that filled a coffee-cup. The chief of Zemzem is one of the principal olemas of Mekka. I need not remind the reader that Zemzem is supposed to be the spring found in the wilderness by Hagar, at the moment when her infant son Ismayl was dying of thirst. It seems probable that the town of Mekka owes its origin to this well; for many miles round, no sweet water is found, nor is there in any part of the adjacent country so copious a supply. On the north-east side of Zemzem stand two small buildings, one behind the other, called El Kobbateyn; they are covered by domes painted in the same manner as the mosque, and in them are kept water jars, lamps, carpets, mats, brooms, and other articles used in the very mosque. These two ugly buildings are injurious to the interior appearance of the building, their heavy forms and structure being disadvantageously contrasted with the light and airy shape of the Makams. I heard some hadjys from Greece, men of better taste than the Arabs, express their regret that the Kobbateyn should be allowed to disfigure the mosque. Their contents might be deposited in some of the buildings adjoining the mosque, of which they form no essential part, no religious importance being attached to them. They were built by Khoshgeldy, governor of Djidda, A.H. 947: one is called [p.146] Kobbet el Abbas, from having been placed on the site of a small tank said to have been formed by Abbas, the uncle of Mohammed. A few paces west of Zemzem, and directly opposite to the door of the Kaaba, stands a ladder or staircase, which is moved up to the wall of the Kaaba, on the days when that building is opened, and by which the visitors ascend to the door: it is of wood, with some carved ornaments, moves on low wheels, and is sufficiently broad to admit of four persons ascending abreast. The first ladder was sent hither from Cairo in A.H. 818, by Moay-ed Abou el Naser, King of Egypt; for in the Hedjaz it seems there has always been so great a want of artizans, that whenever the mosque required any work, it was necessary to have mechanics brought from Cairo, and even sometimes from Constantinople. In the same line with the ladder, and close by it, stands a lightly- built, insulated, and circular arch, about fifteen feet wide and eighteen feet high, called Bab-es�-Salam, which must not be confounded with the great gate of the mosque bearing the same name. Those who enter the Beitullah for the first time, are enjoined to do so by the outer and inner Bab-es�-Salam: in passing under the latter, they are to exclaim, �O God, may it be a happy entrance!� I do not know by whom this arch was built, but it appears to be modern. Nearly in front of the Bab-es�-Salam; and nearer to the Kaaba than any of the other surrounding buildings, stands the Makam Ibrahim. This is a small building, supported by six pillars about eight feet high, four of which are surrounded from top to bottom by a fine iron railing, which thus leaves the space beyond the two hind pillars open: within the railing is a frame about five feet square, terminating in a pyramidal top, and said to contain the sacred stone upon which Ibrahim (Abraham) stood when he built the Kaaba, and which, with the help of his son Ismayl, he had removed from hence to the place called Madjen, already mentioned. The stone is said to have yielded under the weight of the patriarch, and to preserve the impression of his foot still visible upon it; but no hadjy has ever seen it, as the frame is always entirely covered with a brocade of red silk richly embroidered. Persons are constantly seen before the railing, invoking the good offices of [p.147] Ibrahim; and a short prayer must be uttered by the side of the Makam, after the walk round the Kaaba is completed. It is said that many of the Sahabe, or first adherents of Mohammed, were interred in the open space between this Makam. and Zemzem, from which circumstance it is one of the most favourite places of prayer in the mosque. In this part of the area, the Khalif Soleyman Ibn Abd el Melek, brother of Wolyd, built a fine reservoir, in A.H. 97, which was filled from a spring east of Arafat; but the Mekkawys destroyed it after his death, on the pretence that the water of Zemzem was preferable. [Vide Makrizi�s Treatise-- �Manhadj myn el Kholafa.�] On the side of Makam Ibrahim, facing the middle part of the front of the Kaaba, stands the Mambar or pulpit of the mosque; it is elegantly formed of fine white marble, with many sculptured ornaments, and was sent as a present to the mosque in A.H. 969, by Sultan Soleyman Ibn Selym: [The first Mambar was sent from Cairo in A.H. 818, together with the steps above mentioned, by Moay-ed, King of Egypt. See Asamy.] a straight narrow staircase leads up to the post of the Khatyb, or preacher, which is surmounted by a gilt polygonal pointed steeple, resembling an obelisk. Here a sermon is preached on Fridays, and on certain festivals; these, like the Friday sermons of all mosques in the Mohammedan countries, are usually of the same tenor, with some slight alterations upon extraordinary occasions. Before the Wahabys invaded Mekka, prayers were added for the Sultan and the Sherif; but these were forbidden by Saoud. Since the Turkish conquest, however, the ancient custom has been restored; and on Fridays, as well as at the end of the first daily evening prayers, the Sultan, Mohammed Aly Pasha, and Sherif Yahya are included in the formula. The right of preaching in the Mambar is vested in several of the first olemas in Mekka; they are always elderly persons, and officiate in rotation. In ancient times, Mohammed himself, his successors, and the Khalifes, whenever they came to Mekka, mounted the pulpit, and preached to the people. The Khatyb, or preacher, appears in the Mambar wrapped in a white cloak, which covers his head and body, and with a stick in his [p.148] hand; a practice observed also in Egypt and Syria, in memory of the first age of Islam, when the preachers found it necessary to be armed, from fear of being surprised. As in other mosques, two green flags are placed on each side of him. About the Mambar, the visitors of the Kaaba deposit their shoes; as it is neither permitted to walk round the Kaaba with covered feet, nor thought decent to carry the shoes in the hand, as is done in other mosques. Several persons keep watch over the shoes, for which they expect a small present; but the vicinity of the holy temple does not intimidate the dishonest, for I lost successively from this spot three new pairs of shoes; and the same thing happens to many hadjys. I have now described all the buildings within the enclosure of the Temple. [The ground-plan of the Temple given by Aly Bey el Abbassi is perfectly correct. This cannot be said of his plan of Mekka, nor of his different views in the Hedjaz: a comparison of my description with his work will show in what points I differ from him, as well in regard to the temple, as to the town and its inhabitants. His travels came to my hands after I had returned from Arabia. The view of the mosque given by d�Ohsson, in his valuable work, is tolerably correct, except that the Kaaba is too large in proportion to the rest of the building. The view of the town of Mekka, on the contrary, is very unfaithful. That in Niebuhr, which was copied from an ancient Arabic drawing, is less accurate than d�Ohsson�s. The original seems to have been taken before the last alterations made in the buildings of the Temple.] The gravel-ground, and part of the adjoining outer pavement of the Kaaba, is covered, at the time of evening prayers, with carpets of from sixty to eighty feet in length, and four feet in breadth, of Egyptian manufacture, which are rolled up after prayers. The greater part of the hadjys bring their own carpets with them. The more distant parts of the area, and the floor under the colonnade, are spread with mats, brought from Souakin; the latter situation being the usual place for the performance of the mid-day and afternoon prayers. Many of these mats are presented to the mosque by the hadjys, for which they have in return the satisfaction of seeing their names inscribed on them in large characters. At sun-set, great numbers assemble for the first evening prayer: they form themselves into several wide circles, sometimes as many as [p.149] twenty, around the Kaaba as a common centre before which every person makes his prostration; and thus, as the Mohammedan doctors observe, Mekka is the only spot throughout the world in which the true believer can, with propriety, turn during his prayers towards any point of the compass. The Imam takes his post near the gate of the Kaaba, and his genuflexions are imitated by the whole assembled multitude. The effect of the joint prostrations of six or eight thousand persons, added to the recollection of the distance and various quarters from whence they come, and for what purpose, cannot fail to impress the most cool- minded spectator with some degree of awe. At night, when the lamps are lighted, and numbers of devotees are performing the Towaf round the Kaaba, the sight of the busy crowds--the voices of the Metowefs, intent upon making themselves heard by those to whom they recite their prayers-- the loud conversation of many idle persons--the running, playing, and laughing of boys, give to the whole a very different appearance, and one more resembling that of a place of public amusement. The crowd, however, leaves the mosque about nine o�clock, when it again becomes the place of silent meditation and prayer, to the few visitors who are led to the spot by sincere piety, and not worldly motives or fashion. There is an opinion prevalent at Mekka, founded on holy tradition, that the mosque will contain any number of the faithful; and that if even the whole Mohammedan community were to enter at once, they would all find room in it to pray. The guardian angels, it is said, would invisibly extend the dimensions of the building, and diminish the size of each individual. The fact is, that during the most numerous pilgrimages, the mosque, which can contain, I believe, about thirty-five thousand persons in the act of prayer, is never half filled. Even on Fridays, the greater part of the Mekkawys, contrary to the injunctions of the law, pray at home, if at all, and many hadjys follow their example. I could never count more than ten thousand individuals in the mosque at one time, even after the return from Arafat, when the whole body of hadjys were collected, for a few days, in and about the city. At every hour of the day persons may be seen under the colonnade, [p.150] occupied in reading the Koran and other religious books; and here many poor Indians, or negroes, spread their mats, and pass the whole period of their residence at Mekka. Here they both eat and sleep; but cooking is not allowed. During the hours of noon, many persons come to repose beneath the cool shade of the vaulted roof of the colonnade; a custom which not only accounts for the mode of construction observed in the old Mohammedan temples of Egypt and Arabia, but for that also of the ancient Egyptian temples, the immense porticoes of which were probably left open to the idolatrous natives, whose mud-built houses could afford them but an imperfect refuge against the mid-day heats. It is only during the hours of prayer that the great mosques of these countries partake of the sanctity of prayer, or in any degree seem to be regarded as consecrated places. In El Azhar, the first mosque at Cairo, I have seen boys crying pancakes for sale, barbers shaving their customers, and many of the lower orders eating their dinners, where, during prayers, not the slightest motion, nor even whisper, diverts the attention of the congregation. Not a sound but the voice of the Imam is heard during prayers in the great mosque at Mekka, which at other times is the place of meeting for men of business to converse on their affairs, and is sometimes so full of poor hadjys, or of diseased persons lying about under the colonnade, in the midst of their miserable baggage, as to have the appearance of an hospital rather than a temple. Boys play in the great square, and servants carry luggage across it, to pass by the nearest route from one part of the town to the other. In these respects, the temple of Mekka resembles the other great mosques of the East. But the holy Kaaba is rendered the scene of such indecencies and criminal acts, as cannot with propriety be more particularly noticed. They are not only practised here with impunity, but, it may be said, almost publicly; and my indignation has often been excited, on witnessing abominations which called forth from other passing spectators nothing more than a laugh or a slight reprimand. In several parts of the colonnade, public schools are held, where young children are taught to spell and read: they form most noisy [p.151] groups, and the schoolmaster�s stick is in constant action. Some learned men of Mekka deliver lectures on religious subjects every afternoon under the colonnade, but the auditors are seldom numerous. On Fridays, after prayer, some Turkish olemas explain to their countrymen assembled around them a few chapters of the Koran, after which each of the audience kisses the hand of the expositor, and drops money into his cap. I particularly admired the fluency of speech of one of these olemas, although I did not understand him, the lecture being delivered in the Turkish language. His gesticulations, and the inflexions of his voice, were most expressive; but like an actor on the stage, he would laugh and cry in the same minute, and adapt his features to his purpose in the most skilful manner. He was a native of Brusa, and amassed a considerable sum of money. Near the gate of the mosque called Bab-es�-Salam, a few Arab Sheikhs daily take their seat, with their ink-stand and paper, ready to write, for any applicant, letters, accounts, contracts, or any similar document. They also deal in written charms, like those current in the Black countries, such as amulets, and love-receipts, called �Kotob muhbat o kuboul.� They are principally employed by Bedouins, and demand an exorbitant remuneration. Winding-sheets (keffen), and other linen washed in the waters of Zemzem, are constantly seen hanging to dry between the columns. Many hadjys purchase at Mekka the shroud in which they wish to be buried, and wash it themselves at the well of Zemzem, supposing that, if the corpse be wrapped in linen which has been wetted with this holy water, the peace of the soul after death will be more effectually secured. Some hadjys make this linen an article of traffic. Mekka generally, but the mosque in particular, abounds with flocks of wild pigeons, which are considered to be the inviolable property of the temple, and are called the Pigeons of the Beitullah. Nobody dares to kill any of them, even when they enter the private houses. In the square of the mosque, several small stone basins are regularly filled with water for their use; here also Arab women expose to sale, upon small straw mats, corn and durra, which the pilgrims [p.152] purchase, and throw to the pigeons. I have seen some of the public women take this mode of exhibiting themselves, and of bargaining with the pilgrims, under pretence of selling them corn for the sacred pigeons. The gates of the mosque are nineteen in number, and are distributed about it, without any order or symmetry. I subjoin their names, as they are usually written upon small cards by the Metowefs: in another column are the names by which they were known in more ancient times, principally taken from Azraky and Kotoby. Modern Names. Ancient Names. Bab-es�-Salam, composed of 3 Bab beni Sheybe. smaller gates, or arches. Bab el Neby 2 Bab el Djenaiz, The dead being carried through it to the mosque, that prayers may be said over their bodies. Bab el Abbas. 3 Bab Sertakat. Opposite to this the house of Abbas once stood. Bab Aly 3 Bab Beni Hashem. Bab el Zeyt 2 Bab Bazan. Bab el Ashra Bab el Baghle 2 Bab el Szafa 5 Bab Beni Makhzoum. Bab Sherif 2 Bab el Djyad. Bab Medjahed 2 Bab el Dokhmase Bab Zoleykha 2 Bab Sherif Adjelan (who built it.) Bab Om Hany. 2 So called from the daughter of Aby Taleb. Bab el Wodaa. 2 Bab el Hazoura Through which the pilgrim passes in taking his final leave of the temple. Bab Ibrahim 1 Bab el Kheyatyn, or Bab Djomah. [So called, not from Abraham, but from a tailor who had his shop near it.] [p.153] Bab el Omra 1 Through which the pilgrims issue to visit the Omra. Also called Beni Saham. Bab Ateek 1 Bab Amer Ibn el Aas, or Bab el Sedra. Bab el Bastye 1 Bab el Adjale. Bab el Kotoby 1 Bab Zyade Dar el Nedoua. [Taking its name from the famous author of a History of Mekka, who lived in an adjoining lane, and opened this small gate into the mosque. Bab Zyade 3 Bab Dereybe 1 Bab Medrese. -- Total number of arches 39 The principal of these gates are:--on the north side, Bab-es-Salam, by which every pilgrim enters the mosque; Bab Abbas; Bab el Neby, by which Mohammed is said to have always entered the mosque; Bab Aly. On the east side, Bab el Zeyt, or Bab el Ashra, through which the ten first Sahabe, or adherents of Mohammed, used to enter; Bab el Szafa; two gates called Biban el Sherif, opposite the palaces of the Sherif. On the south side, Bab Ibrahim, where the colonnade projects beyond the straight line of the columns, and forms a small square; Bab el Omra, through which it is necessary to pass, on visiting the Omra. On the west side, Bab el Zyade, forming a projecting square similar to that at Bab Ibrahim, but larger. Most of these gates have high pointed arches; but a few round arches are seen among them, which, like all the arches of this kind in the Hedjaz, are nearly semi-circular. They are without any ornament, except the inscription on the exterior, which commemorates the name of the builder; and they are all posterior in date to the fourteenth century. As each gate consists of two or three arches, or divisions, separated by narrow walls, these divisions are counted in the enumeration of the gates leading into the Kaaba, and thus make up the number thirty-nine. There being no doors to the gates, the mosque is consequently open at all [p.154] times. I have crossed at every hour of the night, and always found people there, either at prayers, or walking about. The outside walls of the mosque are those of the houses which surround it on all sides. These houses belonged originally to the mosque; the greater part are now the property of individuals, who have purchased them; they are let out to the richest hadjys, at very high prices, as much as five hundred piastres being given, during the pilgrimage, for a good apartment, with windows opening into the mosque. Windows have, in consequence, been opened in many parts of the walls, on a level with the street, and above that of the floor of the colonnades: Hadjys living in these apartments are allowed to perform the Friday�s prayers at home; because, having the Kaaba in view from the windows, they are supposed to be in the mosque itself, and to join in prayer those assembled within the temple. Upon a level with the ground-floor of the colonnades, and opening into them, are small apartments formed in the walls, having the appearance of dungeons: these have remained the property of the mosque, while the houses above them belong to private individuals. They are let out to watermen, who deposit in them the Zemzem jars; or to less opulent hadjys, who wish to live in the mosque. Some of the surrounding houses still belong to the mosque, and were originally intended for public schools, as their name of Medrese implies: they are now all let out to hadjys. In one of the largest of them, Mohammed Aly Pasha lived; in another Hassan Pasha. [One of the finest Medreses in Mekka, built by order of Kail Beg, Sultan of Egypt, in A.H. 888, in the side of the mosque fronting the street Masaa, has also become a private building, after having been deprived of its revenue by the peculation of its guardians. Besides the Medreses, there were other buildings of less extent erected by different Sultans of Egypt and Constantinople for similar purposes, called Rebat, where poor pilgrims might reside, who chose to study there; but these have shared the fate of the Medreses, and are now either the private property of Mekkawys, or let to individuals on long leases by the mosque, and used as common lodging- houses.] Close to Bab Ibrahim is a large Medrese, now the property of Seyd Ageyl, one of the principal merchants of the town, whose ware-house opens into the mosque. This person, who is aged, has the reputation [p.155] of great sanctity; and it is said that the hand of Sherif Ghaleb, when once in the act of collaring him, for refusing to advance some money, was momentarily struck with palsy. He has every evening assemblies in his house, where theological books are read, [The cousin of this man is the famous pirate Syd Mohammed el Ageyl, who has committed many outrages upon European ships in the Red Sea, and even insulted the English flag. In the beginning of 1814 he was called to Djidda, with offers to enter the service of Mohammed Aly Pasha, who, it was then thought, had some hostile intentions against Yemen. The Pasha made him considerable presents, either in the hope of engaging him in his service, or of securing his friendship; but the pirate declined his proposals. He has amassed great wealth; has establishments in almost every harbour of the Red Sea; and is adored by his sailors and soldiers for his great liberality. Like his cousin at Mekka, he has succeeded in making people believe that he is endowed with supernatural powers.] and religious topics discussed. Among other buildings forming the enclosure of the Mesjed, is the Mehkam, or house of justice, close by the Bab Zyade: it is a fine, firmly-built structure, with lofty arches in the interior, and has a row of high windows looking into the mosque. It is inhabited by the Kadhy. Adjoining to it stands a large Medrese, inclosing a square, known by the name of Medrese Soleymanye, built by Sultan Soleyman, and his son Selym II., in A.H. 973. It is always well filled with Turkish hadjys, the friends of the Kadhy, who disposes of the lodgings. The exterior of the mosque is adorned with seven minarets, irregularly distributed:--1. Minaret of Bab el Omra; 2. of Bab el Salam; 3. of Bab Aly; 4. of Bab el Wodaa; 5. of Medrese Kail Beg; 6. of Bab el Zyade; 7. of Medreset Sultan Soleyman. They are quadrangular or round steeples, in no way differing from other minarets. The entrance to them is from the different buildings round the mosque, which they adjoin. A beautiful view of the busy crowd below is obtained by ascending the most northern one. It will have been seen by the foregoing description, that the mosque of Mekka differs little in its construction from many other buildings of the same nature in Asia. The mosque of Zakaria at Aleppo, the great mosque called El Amouy at Damascus, and the greater number of the larger mosques at Cairo, are constructed exactly [p.156] upon the same plan, with an arched colonnade round an open square. None is more like it than the mosque of Touloun, at Cairo, built in A.H. 263; and that of Ammer, situated between Cairo and Old Cairo, upon the spot where Fostat once stood: it was built by Ammer Ibn el Aas, in the first years of the conquest of Egypt; it has an arched fountain in the midst, where at Mekka stands the Kaaba; but is only one-third as large as the mosque of Mekka. The history of Beitullah (or God�s house) has exercised the industry of many learned Arabians: it is only in latter times that the mosque has been enlarged; many trees once stood in the square, and it is to be regretted that others have not succeeded them. The service of the mosque occupies a vast number of people. The Khatybs, Imams, Muftis, those attached to Zemzem, the Mueddins who call to prayers, numbers of olemas, who deliver lectures, lamp-lighters, and a crowd of menial servants, are all employed about the Beitullah. They receive regular pay from the mosque, besides what they share of the presents made to it by hadjys, for the purpose of distribution; those not made for such purpose, are reserved for the repairs of the building. The revenue of the mosque is considerable, although it has been deprived of the best branches of its income. There are few towns or districts of the Turkish empire in which it does not possess property in land or houses; but the annual amount of this property is often withheld by provincial governors, or at least it is reduced, by the hands through which it passes, to a small proportion of its real value. El Is-haaky, in his History of Egypt, states, that in the time of Sultan Achmed, the son of Sultan Mohammed, (who died in A.H. 1027,) Egypt sent yearly to Mekka two hundred and ninety-five purses, destined principally for the mosque, and forty-eight thousand and eighty erdebs of corn. Bayazyd Ibn Sultan Mohammed Khan (in 912) fixed the income of Mekka and Medina, to be sent from Constantinople, at fourteen thousand ducats per annum, in addition to what his predecessors had already ordered; and Sultan Solyman Ibn Selym I. increased the annual income of Mekka, sent from Constantinople, which his father Selym had fixed at seven thousand erdebs of corn, to ten thousand erdebs, and five thousand for the inhabitants of [p.157] Medina. [See Kotobeddyn.] He likewise fixed the surra from Constantinople, or, as it is called, the Greek surra, at thirty-one thousand ducats per annum. [See Assamy. These surras (or purses) were first instituted by Mohammed Ibn Sultan Yalderem, in A.H. 816.] Almost all the revenues derived from Egypt were sequestrated by the Mamelouk Beys; and Mohammed Aly has now seized what remained. Some revenue is yet drawn from Yemen, called Wakf el Hamam, and a little is brought in annually by the Hadj caravans. At present, therefore, the mosque of Mekka may be called poor in comparison with its former state. [The princes of India have frequently given proofs of great munificence towards the mosque at Mekka. In A.H. 798, large presents in money and valuable articles were sent by the sovereigns of Bengal and Cambay; those of Bengal, especially, are often mentioned as benefactors by Asamy.] Excepting a few golden lamps in the Kaaba, it possesses no treasures whatever, notwithstanding the stories prevalent to the contrary; and I learnt from the Kadhy himself, that the Sultan, in order to keep up the establishment, sends at present four hundred purses annually, as a present to the Kaaba; which sum is partly expended in the service of the mosque, and partly divided among the servants belonging to it. The income of the mosque must not be confounded with that of a number of Mekkawys, including many of the servants, which they derive from other pious foundations in the Turkish empire, known by the name of Surra, and of which a great part still remains untouched. The donations of the hadjys, however, are so ample as to afford abundant subsistence to the great numbers of idle persons employed about the mosque; and as long as the pilgrimage exists, there is no reason to apprehend their wanting either the necessaries or the luxuries of life. The first officer of the mosque is the Nayb el Haram, or Hares el Haram, the guardian who keeps the keys of the Kaaba. In his hands are deposited the sums bestowed as presents to the building, and which he distributes in conjunction with the Kadhy: under his directions, [p.158] also, the repairs of the building are carried on. [The honour of keeping the keys of the Kaaba, and the profits arising from it, were often subjects of contention among the ancient Arabian tribes.] I have been assured, but do not know how truly, that the Nayb el Haram�s yearly accounts, which are countersigned by the Sherif and Kadhy, and sent to Constantinople, amount to three hundred purses, merely for the expenses of the necessary repairs, lighting, carpets, &c., and the maintenance of the eunuchs belonging to the temple. This officer happens at present to be one of the heads of the three only families descended from the ancient Koreysh who remain resident at Mekka. Next to him, the second officer of the mosque in rank is the Aga of the eunuchs, or, as he is called; Agat el Towashye. The eunuchs perform the duty of police officers in the temple; [The employment of slaves or eunuchs in this mosque is of very ancient date. Mawya Ibn Aly Sofyan, a short time after Mohammed, first ordered slaves for the Kaaba.--Vid. Fasy.] they prevent disorders, and daily wash and sweep, with large brooms, the pavement round the Kaaba. In time of rain, I have seen the water stand on the pavement to the height of a foot; on such occasions many of the hadjys assist the eunuchs in removing it through several holes made in the pavement, which, it is said, lead to large vaults beneath the Kaaba, though the historians of Mekka and of the temple make no mention of them. The eunuchs are dressed in the Constantinopolitan kaouk, with wide robes, bound by a sash, and carry a long stick in their hands. The engraving of their dress given by d�Ohsson is strikingly correct; as are, in general, all the representations of costume in that work, which I had an opportunity of comparing with the original. [This excellent work is the only perfect source of information respecting the laws and constitution of the Turkish empire; but it must not be forgotten that the practices prevalent in the provinces are, unfortunately, often in direct contravention of the spirit and letter of the code of law, as explained by the author.] The number of eunuchs now exceeds forty, and they are supplied by Pashas and other grandees, who send them, when young, as presents to the mosque: one hundred dollars are sent with each as an outfit. Mohammed Aly presented ten young eunuchs to the mosque. At present there [p.159] are ten grown-up persons, and twenty boys; the latter live together in a house, till they are sufficiently instructed to be given in charge to their elder brethren, with whom they remain a few years, and then set up their own establishments. Extraordinary as it may appear, the grown-up eunuchs are all married to black slaves, and maintain several male and female slaves in their houses as servants. They affect great importance; and in case of quarrels or riots, lay freely about them with their sticks. Many of the lower classes of Mekka kiss their hands on approaching them. Their chief, or Aga, whom they elect among themselves, is a great personage, and is entitled to sit in the presence of the Pasha and the Sherif. The eunuchs have a large income from the revenues of the mosque, and from private donations of the hadjys; they also receive regular stipends from Constantinople, and derive profit from trade; for, like almost all the people of Mekka, and even the first clergy, they are more or less engaged in traffic; and their ardour in the pursuit of commercial gain is much greater than that which they evince in the execution of their official duties, being equalled only by the eagerness with which they court the friendship of wealthy hadjys. Most of the eunuchs, or Towashye, are negroes; a few were copper- coloured Indians. One of the former is sometimes sent to the Soudan countries, to collect presents for the Kaaba. The fate of a eunuch of this description is mentioned by Bruce. Some years since a Towashye obtained permission to return to Soudan, on presenting another person to the mosque in his stead. He then repaired to Borgo, west of Darfour, and is now the powerful governor of a province. Whenever negro hadjys come to Mekka, they never fail to pay assiduous court to the Towashyes. A Towashye, after having been once attached to the service of the Kaaba, which confers on him the appellation of Towashye el Neby (the Prophet�s eunuch), can never enter into any other service. In the time of Ramadhan, (the last days of which month, in 1814, I passed at Mekka,) the mosque is particularly brilliant. The hadjys, at that period, (which happened to be in the hottest time of the year,) generally performed the three first daily prayers at home, but assembled [p.160] in large crowds in the mosque, for their evening devotions. Every one then carried in his handkerchief a few dates, a little bread and cheese, or some grapes, which he placed before him, waiting for the moment of the call to evening prayers, to be allowed to break the fast. During this period of suspense, they would politely offer to their neighbours a part of their meal, and receive as much in return. Some hadjys, to gain the reputation of peculiar charitableness, were going from man to man, and placing before each a few morsels of viands, followed by beggars, who, in their turn, received these morsels from those hadjys before whom they had been placed. As soon as the Imam on the top of Zemzem began his cry of �Allahou Akbar,� (God is most great!) every one hastened to drink of the jar of Zemzem water placed before him, and to eat something, previous to joining in the prayer; after which they all returned home to supper, and again revisited the mosque, for the celebration of the last evening orisons. At this time, the whole square and colonnades were illuminated by thousands of lamps; and, in addition to these, most of the hadjys had each his own lantern standing on the ground before him. The brilliancy of this spectacle, and the cool breeze pervading the square, caused multitudes to linger here till midnight. This square, the only wide and open place in the whole town, admits through all its gates the cooling breeze; but this the Mekkawys ascribe to the waving wings of those angels who guard the mosque. I witnessed the enthusiasm of a Darfour pilgrim, who arrived at Mekka on the last night of Ramadhan. After a long journey across barren and solitary deserts, on his entering the illuminated temple, he was so much struck with its appearance, and overawed by the black Kaaba, that he fell prostrate close by the place where I was sitting, and remained long in that posture of adoration. He then rose, burst into a flood of tears, and in the height of his emotion, instead of reciting the usual prayers of the visitor, only exclaimed, �O God, now take my soul, for this is Paradise!� The termination of the Hadj gives a very different appearance to the temple. Disease and mortality, which succeed to the fatigues endured on the journey, or are caused by the light covering of the [p.161] ihram, the unhealthy lodgings at Mekka, the bad fare, and sometimes absolute want, fill the mosque with dead bodies, carried thither to receive the Imam�s prayer, or with sick persons, many of whom, when their dissolution approaches, are brought to the colonnades, that they may either be cured by a sight of the Kaaba, or at least have the satisfaction of expiring within the sacred enclosure. Poor hadjys, worn out with disease and hunger, are seen dragging their emaciated bodies along the columns; and when no longer able to stretch forth their hand to ask the passenger for charity, they place a bowl to receive alms near the mat on which they lay themselves. When they feel their last moments approaching, they cover themselves with their tattered garments; and often a whole day passes before it is discovered that they are dead. For a month subsequent to the conclusion of the Hadj, I found, almost every morning, corpses of pilgrims lying in the mosque; myself and a Greek hadjy, whom accident had brought to the spot, once closed the eyes of a poor Mogrebyn pilgrim, who had crawled into the neighbourhood of the Kaaba, to breathe his last, as the Moslems say, �in the arms of the prophet and of the guardian angels.� He intimated by signs his wish that we should sprinkle Zemzem water over him; and while we were doing so, he expired: half an hour afterwards he was buried. There are several persons in the service of the mosque employed to wash carefully the spot on which those who expire in the mosque have lain, and to bury all the poor and friendless strangers who die at Mekka. [p.162] SOME HISTORICAL NOTICES CONCERNING THE KAABA, AND THE TEMPLE OF MEKKA; EXTRACTED FROM THE WORKS OF EL AZRAKY, EL FASY, KOTOBEDDYN, AND ASAMY, WRITERS MORE PARTICULARLY MENTIONED IN THE INTRODUCTION. MOHAMMEDAN mythology affirms that the Kaaba was constructed in heaven, two thousand years before the creation of this world, and that it was there adored by the angels, whom the Almighty commanded to perform the Towaf, or walk round it. Adam, who was the first true believer, erected the Kaaba upon earth, on its present site, which is directly below the spot that it occupied in heaven. He collected the stones for the building from the five holy mountains: Lebanon, Tor Syna (Mount Sinai), El Djoudy (the name given by Muselmans to the mountain on which the ark of Noah rested after the deluge), Hirra, or Djebel Nour, and Tor Zeyt (the mountain to which, as I believe, an allusion is made in the ninety- fifth chapter of the Koran). Ten thousand angels were appointed to guard the structure from accidents: but they seem, from the history of the holy building, to have been often remiss in their duty. The sons of Adam repaired the Kaaba; and after the deluge, Ibrahim (Abraham), when he had abandoned the idolatry of his forefathers, was ordered by the Almighty to reconstruct it. His son Ismayl, who from his infancy resided with his mother Hadjer (Hagar) near the site of Mekka, assisted his father, who had come from Syria to obey the commands of Allah: on digging, they found the foundations which [p.163] had been laid by Adam. Being in want of a stone to fix into the corner of the building as a mark from whence the Towaf, or holy walk round it, was to commence, Ismayl went in search of one. On his way towards Djebel Kobeys, he met the angel Gabriel, holding in his hand the famous black stone. It was then of a refulgent bright colour, but became black, says El Azraky, in consequence of its having suffered repeatedly by fire, before and after the introduction of Islam. Others say its colour was changed by the sins of those who touched it. At the day of judgment, it will bear witness in favour of all those who have touched it with sincere hearts, and will be endowed with sight and speech. After the well of Zemzem was miraculously created, and before Ibrahim began to build the Kaaba, the Arab tribe of Beni Djorham, a branch of the Amalekites, settled here, with the permission of Ismayl and his mother, with whom they lived. Ismayl considered the well as his property; but having intermarried with the Djorham tribe, they usurped, after his death, the possession both of the well and the Kaaba. During their abode in this valley, they rebuilt or thoroughly repaired the Kaaba; but the well was choked up by the violence of torrents, and remained so for nearly one thousand years. The tribe of Khozaa afterwards kept possession of the Kaaba for three hundred years; and their successors, of the tribe of Kossay Ibn Kelab, again rebuilt it; for being constantly exposed to the devastations of torrents, it was often in need of repair. It had hitherto been open at the top: they roofed it; and from this period its history becomes less involved in fable and uncertainty. An Arab of Kossay, named Ammer Ibn Lahay, first introduced idolatry among his countrymen; he brought the idol, called Hobal, from Hyt, in Mesopotamia, [See El Azraky.] and set it up at the Kaaba. Idolatry then spread rapidly; and it seems that almost every Arab tribe chose its own god or tutelar divinity; and that, considering the Kaaba as a Pantheon common to them all, they frequented it in pilgrimage. The date-tree, called Ozza, says Azraky, was worshipped by the tribe of [p.164] Khozaa; and the Beni Thekyf adored the rock called El Lat; a large tree, called Zat Arowat, was revered by the Koreysh; the holy places, Muna, Szafa, Meroua, had their respective saints or demi-gods; and the historians give a long list of other deities. The number of idols increased so much, that one was to be found in every house and tent of this valley; and the Kaaba was adorned with three hundred and sixty of them, corresponding probably to the days of the year. The tribe of Kossay were the first who built houses round the Kaaba; in these they lived during the day, but in the evening they always returned to their tents, pitched upon the neighbouring mountains. The successors of the Beni Kossay at Mekka, or Bekka, (the name then applied to the town,) were the Beni Koreysh. About their time the Kaaba was destroyed by fire; they rebuilt it of wood, of a smaller size than it had been in the time of the Kossay, but indicating by the wall Hedjer (already described) its former limits. The roof was supported within by six pillars; and the statue of Hobal, the Arabian Jupiter, was placed over a well, then existing within the Kaaba. This happened during the youth of Mohammed. All the idols were replaced in the new building; and El Azraky adduces the ocular testimony of several respectable witnesses, to prove a remarkable fact, (hitherto, I believe, unnoticed,) that the figure of the Virgin Mary, with the young Aysa (Jesus) in her lap, was likewise sculptured as a deity upon one of the six pillars nearest to the gate. The grandfather of Mohammed, Abd el Motalleb Ibn Hesham, had restored the well of Zemzem by an excavation some time before the burning of the Kaaba. When the victorious Mohammed entered the town of his fathers, he destroyed the images in the temple, and abolished the idolatrous worship of his countrymen; and his Mueddin, the negro Belal, called the Moslems to prayers from the top of the Kaaba. The Koreysh had built a small town round the Kaaba, which they venerated so much that no person was permitted to raise the roof of his house higher than that of the sacred structure. The pilgrimage to this holy shrine, which the pagan Arabs had instituted, was confirmed by Islam. [p.165] Omar Ibn Khatab first built a mosque round the Kaaba. In the year of the Hedjra 17, having purchased from the Koreysh the small houses which enclosed it, and carried a wall round the area, Othman Ibn Affan, in A.H. 27, enlarged the square; and in A.H. 63, when the heretic and rebel Yezyd was besieged at Mekka by Abdallah Ibn Zebeyr, the nephew of Aysha, the Kaaba was destroyed by fire, some say accidentally, while others affirm it to have been done by the slinging machines directed against it by Yezyd from the top of Djebel Kobeys, where he had taken post. After his expulsion, Ibn Zebeyr enlarged the enclosure of the wall by purchasing some more houses of the Mekkawys, and by including their site, after having levelled them, within the wall. He also rebuilt the Kaaba upon an enlarged scale, raising it from eighteen pikes (its height under the Koreysh) to twenty-seven pikes, or nearly equal to what it was in the time of the Beni Kossay. He opened two doors into it, level with the surface of the area, and constructed a double roof, supported by three instead of six pillars, the former number. This new building was twenty-five pikes in length, twenty in breadth on one side, and twenty- one on the other. In the interior, the dry well, called Byr Ahsef, still remained, wherein the treasures were deposited, particularly the golden vessels that had been presented to the Kaaba. It was at this period that the structure took the name of Kaaba, which is said to be derived from kaab, a die or cube, the form which the building now assumed. Its former title was the House of God, (Beitullah) or the Old House, a name still often applied to it. Twenty years after the last-mentioned date, El Hadjadj Ibn Yousef el Thakafy, then governor of Mekka, disliking the enlarged size of the Kaaba, reduced it to the proportions it had in the time of the Koreysh, cutting off six pikes from its length; he also restored the wall called Hedjer, which Ibn Zebeyr had included within the building. The size then given to the edifice is the same as that of the present structure, it having been scrupulously adhered to in all the repairs or re-erections which subsequently took place. Towards the end of the first century of the Hedjra, Wolyd Ibn Abd el Melek was the first who reared columns in the mosque. He [p.166] caused their capitals to be covered with thin plates of gold, and incurred a great expense for decorations: it is related that all the golden ornaments which he gave to the building were sent from Toledo in Spain, and carried upon mules through Africa and Arabia. Abou Djafar el Mansour, one of the Abassides, in A.H. 139, enlarged the north and south sides of the mosque, and made it twice as large as it had been before, so that it now occupied a space of forty-seven pikes and a half in length. He also paved the ground adjoining the well of Zemzem with marble. The Khalife El Mohdy added to the size of the mosque at two different periods; the last time, in A.H. 163, he bought the ground required for these additions from the Mekkawys, paying to them twenty-five dinars for every square pike. It was this Khalife who brought the columns from Egypt, as I have already observed. The improvements which he had begun, were completed by his son El Hady. The roof of the colonnade was then built of sadj, a precious Indian wood. The columns brought from Egypt by El Mohdy, were landed at one day�s journey north of Djidda; but some obstacles arising, they were not all transported to Mekka, some of them having been abandoned on the sands near the shore. I mention this for the sake of future travellers, who, on discovering them, might perhaps consider them as the vestiges of some powerful Greek or Egyptian colony. The historians of Mekka remark, and not without astonishment, that the munificent Khalife Haroun er Rasheid, although he repeatedly visited the Kaaba, added nothing to the mosque, except a new pulpit, or mambar. A.H. 226. During the Khalifat of Motasem b�illah, the well of Zemzem was covered above: it had before been enclosed all round, but not roofed. A.H. 241. The space between the Hedjer and the Kaaba was laid out with fine marbles. At that time there was a gate leading into the space enclosed within the Hedjer. The Khalife El Motaded, in A.H. 281, put the whole mosque into a complete state of repair: he rebuilt its walls; made new gates, assigning to them new names; and enlarged the building on the west [p.167] side, by adding to it the space formerly occupied by the celebrated Dar el Nedowa; an ancient building of Mekka, well known in the history of the Pagan Arabs, which had always been the common council-house of the chiefs of Mekka. It is said to have stood near the spot where the Makam el Hanefy is now placed. In A.H. 314, or, according to others, 301, Mekka and its temple experienced great disasters. The army of the heretic sect of the Carmates, headed by their chief, Abou Dhaher, invaded the Hedjaz, and seized upon Mekka: fifty thousand of its inhabitants were slain during the sack of the city, and the temple and the Kaaba were stripped of all their valuable ornaments. After remaining twenty-one days, the enemy departed, carrying with them the great jewel of Mekka, the black stone of the Kaaba. During the fire which injured the Kaaba, in the time of Ibn Zebeyr, the violent heat had split the stone into three pieces, which were afterwards joined together again, and replaced in the former situation, surrounded with a rim of silver; this rim was renewed and strengthened by Haroun er Rasheid. The Carmates carried the stone to Hedjer, [Asamy says that the stone was carried to El Hassa, near the Persian Gulf, a town which had been recently built by Abou Dhaher. I find, in the Travels of Ibn Batouta, a town in the province of El Hassa, called Hedjer.] a fertile spot in the Desert, on the route of the Syrian caravan, north of Medina, which they had chosen as one of their abodes. They hoped that all the moslems would come to visit the stone, and that they should thus succeed to the riches which the pilgrims from every part of the world had brought to Mekka. Under this impression, Abou Dhaher refused an offer of fifty thousand dinars as a ransom for the stone; but after his death, the Carmates, in A.H. 339, voluntarily sent it back, having been convinced by experience that their expectations of wealth, from the possession of it, were ill founded, and that very few moslems came to Hedjer for the purpose of kissing it. At this time it was in two pieces, having been split by a blow from a Carmate during the plunder of Mekka. Seventy years after its restoration to its ancient seat, the stone [p.168] suffered another indignity: Hakem b�amr Illah, the mad king of Egypt, who had some intentions of claiming divine honours for himself, sent in A.H. 413, an Egyptian with the pilgrim caravan to Mekka, to destroy the stone. With an iron club concealed beneath his clothes, the man approached it, and exclaimed, �How long shall this stone be adored and kissed? There is neither Mohammed nor Aly to prevent me from doing this, and to-day I shall destroy this building!� He then struck it three times with his club. A party of horsemen, belonging to the caravan in which he had travelled from Egypt, were ready at the gates of the mosque to assist the lithoclast, as soon as he should have executed his task; but they were not able to protect him from the fury of the populace. He was slain by the dagger of a native of Yemen; the horsemen were pursued; and the whole Egyptian caravan was plundered on the occasion. Upon inspection, it was found that three small pieces, of the size of a man�s nail, had been knocked off by the blows; these were pulverised, and their dust kneaded into a cement, with which the fractures were filled up. Since that time, the stone has sustained no further misfortune, except in the year 1674, when it was found, one morning, besmeared with dirt, together with the door of the Kaaba; so that every one who kissed it, retired with a sullied face. The author of this sacrilegious joke was sought in vain; suspicion fell upon some Persians, but the fact could not be proved against them. [See Asamy for these details.] The sanctity of the stone appears to have been greatly questioned by one of the very pillars of Islam. El Azraky gives the testimony of several witnesses, who heard Omar Ibn Khatab exclaim, while standing before it:-- �I know thou art a mere stone, that can neither hurt nor help me; nor should I kiss thee, had I not seen Mohammed do the same.� In A.H. 354, the Khalife El Mokteder built the vestibule near the gate of the mosque, called Bab Ibrahim, which projects beyond the straight line of the columns, and united in it two ancient gates, called [p.169] Bab Beni Djomah and Bab el Khayatein. From that time no further improvements were made for several centuries. In A.H. 802, a fire completely destroyed the north and west sides of the mosque: two years after, it was rebuilt at the expense of El Naszer Feradj Ibn Dhaher Berkouk, Sultan of Egypt. The wood necessary for that purpose was transported partly from Egypt and partly from Tayf, where the tree Arar, a species of cypress or juniper, furnished good timber. In A.H. 906, Kansour el Ghoury, Sultan of Egypt, rebuilt the greater part of the side of Bab Ibrahim; and to him the Hedjaz owes several other public edifices. In A.H. 959, in the reign of Solyman Ibn Selim I., Sultan of Constantinople, the roof of the Kaaba was renewed. In A.H. 980, the same Sultan rebuilt the side of the mosque towards the street Mosaa, and caused all the domes to be raised which cover the roof of the colonnades. He also placed the fine pavement, which is now round the Kaaba, and a new pavement all around the colonnades. In A.H. 984, his son Murad repaired and partly rebuilt the three other sides, that had not been touched by him. In the year 1039, (or 1626 of our era,) a torrent from Djebel Nour rushed into the town, and filled the mosque so rapidly, that all the persons then within it were drowned; whatever books, fine copies of the Koran, &c. &c. were left in the apartments round the walls of the building, were destroyed; and a part of the wall before the Kaaba, called Hedjer, and three sides of the Kaaba itself, were carried away. Five hundred souls perished in the town. In the following year the damage was repaired, and the Kaaba rebuilt, after the side which had escaped the fury of the torrent had been pulled down. In 1072, the building over the well Zemzem was erected, as it now stands; and in 1079, the four Makams were built anew. After this time, the historians mention no other material repairs or changes in the mosque; and I believe none took place in the eighteenth century. We may, therefore, ascribe the building, as it now appears, almost wholly to the munificence of the last Sultans of Egypt, and [p.170] their successors, the Osmanly Sultans of Constantinople, since the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. In the autumn of 1816, several artists and workmen, sent from Constantinople, were employed in the Hedjaz to repair all the damage caused by the Wahabys in the chapels of the saints of that country, as well as to make all the repairs necessary in the mosques at Mekka and Medina. [p.171] DESCRIPTION OF SEVERAL OTHER HOLY PLACES, VISITED BY PILGRIMS AT MEKKA, AND IN ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD. DURING the time of the Wahabys, no person dared to visit these places without exposing himself to their hostility; and all the buildings which had been erected on these spots were ruined by them, or their domes were, at least, destroyed. In the town are shown:-- Mouled el Neby, the birth-place of Mohammed, in the quarter named from it. In the time of Fasy a mosque stood near it, called Mesdjed el Mokhtaba. During my stay, workmen were busily employed in re- constructing the building over the Mouled upon its former plan. It consists of a rotunda, the floor of which is about twenty-five feet below the level of the street, with a staircase leading down to it. A small hole is shown in the floor, in which Mohammed�s mother sat when she was delivered of him. This is said to have been the house of Abdillah, Mohammed�s father. Mouled Setna Fatme, or the birth-place of Fatme, the daughter of Mohammed, is shown in a good stone building, said to have been the house of her mother Khadidje, in the street called Zogag el Hadjar. A staircase leads down to the floor of this building, which, like that of the former, is considerably below the street. This small edifice includes two holy places: in one is a hole, similar to that in the Mouled el Neby, to mark the place where Fatme was born; and just by is another, [p.172] of smaller depth, where she is said to have turned her hand- mill, or rahha, after she was grown up. In an apartment near this, a narrow cell is shown, where Mohammed used to sit, and receive from the angel Gabriel the leaves of the Koran brought from heaven. This place is called Kobbet el Wahy. Mouled el Imam Aly, in the quarter called Shab Aly. This is a small chapel, in the floor of which a hole marks the spot where Aly, the cousin of Mohammed, is said to have been born. Mouled Seydna Abou Beker, a small chapel, just opposite to the stone which gave a salutation, �Salam Aleykum,� to Mohammed whenever he passed it. No sacred spot is here shown; but its floor is covered with very fine Persian carpets. All these Mouleds had undergone complete repair since the retreat of the Wahabys, except that of Mohammed, on which the workmen were still employed. The guardianship of these places is shared by several families, principally Sherifs, who attend by turns, with a train of servants. At every corner of the buildings are spread white handker- chiefs, or small carpets, upon which visitors are expected to throw some money; and the gates are lined with women, who occupy their seats by right, and expect a contribution from the pilgrim�s purse. The value of a shilling, distributed in paras at each of the Mouleds, fully answers the expectation of the greedy and the indigent. Mouled Abou Taleb, in the Mala, is completely destroyed, as I have already said; and will, probably, not be rebuilt. Kaber Setna Khadidje: the tomb of Khadidje, the wife of Mohammed, the dome of which was broken down by the Wahabys, and is not yet rebuilt; it is regularly visited by hadjys, especially on Friday mornings. It lies in the large burial-ground of the Mala, at the declivity of the western chain; is enclosed by a square wall, and presents no objects of curiosity except the tomb-stone, which has a fine inscription in Cufic characters, containing a passage of the Koran from the chapter entitled, Souret el Kursy. As the character is not the ancient Cufic, I suspect that the stone was not intended originally to cover this grave: there is no date in the inscription. The Sherif Serour, predecessor of Ghaleb, had the vanity, on his death-bed, to order his family [p.173] to bury his body close to the tomb of Khadidje, in the same enclosure where it still remains. At a short distance from hence, the tomb of Umna, the mother of Mohammed, is shown. It was covered with a slab of fine marble, bearing a Cufic inscription, in an older character than the former. The Wahabys broke it, and removed the two pieces, to show their indignation at the visits paid to the receptacles of the bones of mortals, which was, in their estimation, a species of idolatry. Even at these tombs I found women, to whom permission was granted to spread their handkerchiefs, and ask alms of every visitor. In walking about these extensive cemeteries, I found many other tomb- stones with Cufic inscriptions, but not in a very ancient character. I could decipher no date prior to the sixth century of the Hedjra (the twelfth of our era); but the greater part of them contain mere prayers, without either the name of the deceased, or a date. The tombs, in general, are formed of four large stones placed in an oblong square, with a broad stone set upright at one end, bearing the inscription. I saw no massive tomb or turban cut in stone, or any such ornament as is used in other parts of Asia. A few small buildings have been raised by the first families of Mekka, to enclose the tombs of their relations; they are paved inside, but have no roof, and are of the most simple construction. In two or three of them I found trees planted, which are irrigated from cisterns built within the enclosure for the reception of rain-water: here, the families to whom they belong sometimes pass the day. Of several buildings, surmounted with domes, in which men celebrated for their learning had been interred, the domes were invariably broken down by the Wahabys: these fanatics, however, never touched the tombs themselves, and every where respected the remains of the dead. Among the tombs are those of several Pashas of Syria and of Egypt, constructed with little ornament. At the extremity of almost every tomb, opposite to the epitaph, I found the low shrub saber, a species of aloe, planted in the ground: it is an evergreen, and requires very little water, as its Arabic name, saber, (patience) implies: it is chosen for this purpose from an allusion to the patience necessary in waiting for the resurrection. On the whole, this burial-ground is in a state of ruin, caused, it is said, by the devastations [p.174] of the Wahabys; but, I believe, still more by the little care which the Mekkawys take of the graves containing the bodies of their relations and friends. The places visited out of the town are:-- Djebel Abou Kobeys. This mountain is one of the highest in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, and commands it from the east. Muselman tradition says that it was the first mountain created upon earth; its name is found in almost every Arabic historian and poet. Two different spots upon its summit are visited by the pilgrims. The one is called Mekan el Hedjar (the spot of the stone), where Omar, who afterwards succeeded to the Khalifat, used to call the people to prayers, in the first years of Islam, when the Koreysh or inhabitants of Mekka were, for the greater part, idolaters. Here is shown a cavity cut in the rock, resembling a small tomb, in which it is said that God, at the deluge, ordered the guardian angels to place the black stone, revered by them long before Abraham built the Kaaba, and to make the rock unite over it, that the waters might not touch it; and that, after the deluge, the angel Gabriel split the rock, and conveyed the stone back to the site of the Kaaba. The other place of visit, or Zyara, is across a narrow valley, at a short distance from the former, on the summit of the mountain; it is called Mekan Shak el Kamr, or place where the moon was split-one of Mohammed�s greatest miracles. The story, however, is now differently related by the Mekkawys, who say that, when he was praying here at mid-day, the first people among the incredulous Koreysh came and desired him to convince them at once, by some miracles, [It is recorded by historians, that at the desire of some unbelieving Koreysh, he caused the full moon to appear as if cleft asunder, so that one half was visible behind Djebel Abou Kobeys, and the other at the opposite side of the hemisphere, above Djebel Kaykaan.] that he was really the prophet of the Almighty. �What shall I do,� he replied, �to make you true believers?� �Let the sun retire,� said they, �and the moon and stars appear; let the moon descend upon earth, come to this mountain, enter into one of the sleeves of your gown, issue by the other, return to the firmament, and then let day-light shine again upon us.� Mohammed retired, addressed a short prayer to the Deity, and the whole miracle was forthwith [p.175] performed; after which the Koreysh were converted. These and similar tales, applied to different places by the Mekkawys, for the purpose of extorting money from the pilgrims, are quite unsupported by the authenticated traditions of the prophet. To this spot the people of Mekka resort, that they may enjoy a view of the new moon of Ramadhan, and of the month following it. Between these two places, and a little to the east of them, are the ruins of a solid building, some walls only remaining. It is said to have formerly been a state prison of the sherifs of Mekka. In it are several dungeon-like towers, and it was probably a castle built upon Djebel Kobeys by Mekether el Hashemy, a chief of Mekka, about the year 530 or 540 of the Hedjra; or it may have been a mosque called Mesdjid Ibrahim, which, according to Azraky, stood here in the seventh century of our era. It is vulgarly believed at Mekka that whoever eats a roasted sheep�s head upon Djebel Kobeys, will be for ever cured of all head-aches. Djebel Nour, the mountain of light. This lies to the north of the town. Passing the Sherif�s garden-house on the road towards Arafat, a little further on, we enter a valley, which extends in a direction N.E. by N. and is terminated by the mountain, which is conical. Steps were formerly cut in the steep ascent, but they are now ruined; and it required three quarters of an hour, and much fatiguing exertion, to reach the top. In the rocky floor of a small building, ruined by the Wahabys, a cleft is shown, about the size of a man in length and breadth. It is said that Mohammed, wearied, and grieved at the assertions of his enemies and dubious adherents at Mekka, who had given out that God had entirely abandoned him, retired to this mountain, and stretched himself out in the cleft, imploring help from above. The angel Gabriel was despatched to him with that short chapter of the Koran, which we call the ninety- fourth, beginning with the words �Have we not gladdened thy breast?�--the previous chapter alludes also to his state of grief. A little below this place is a small cavern in the red granite rock, which forms the upper stratum of this mountain; it is called Mogharat el Hira. [In the time of the Pagan Arabs this mountain was called Djebel Hira. I may here add, that a great many mountains and valleys in the Hedjaz have lost their ancient names. This is amply proved by the topographical notices of Azraky, of the historians of Medina, and of Zamakhshary, in his valuable work entitled El Myat o� el djebal.] Here several other passages [p.176] of the Koran are said to have been revealed to the prophet, who often repaired to this elevated spot; but none of those present could tell me what those passages were. The guardians of these two places are Bedouins of the tribe of Lahyan (or Laha-yn). I had left Mekka on foot, at night, with a large party of hadjys, to visit this place, which is usually done on Saturdays. We were on the summit before dawn; and when the sun rose, a very extensive view presented itself to the north and west, the other points being bounded by mountains. The country before us had a dreary aspect, not a single green spot being visible: barren black and grey hills, and white sandy valleys, were the only objects in sight. On the declivity of the mountain, a little way from the top, is a small stone reservoir, built to supply the visitors with water. It was dry when I saw it, and in bad repair. Djebel Thor. About an hour and a half south of Mekka, to the left of the road to the village of Hosseynye, is a lofty mountain of this name, higher, it is said, than Djebel Nour. On the summit of it is a cavern in which Mohammed and his friend Abou Beker took refuge from the Mekkawys before he fled to Medina. A spider had spun its web before the entrance, and his pursuers seeing this, supposed, of course, that the fugitives could not be within. To this circumstance an allusion is made in the Koran (chap. ix.) I did not visit the spot. El Omra. Of this building I have already spoken: it is a small chapel with a single row of columns, on the road to Wady Fatme. Every pilgrim is required to visit it; but he is left to his own discretion respecting the places before mentioned. The Omra is surrounded by ruins of several habitations: there is a copious well near it, and traces of cultivation are seen in the valley. I believe the well to be that called by the historians of Mekka �Bir Tenaym.� According to Fasy, a mosque, called Mesdjed Ahlyledje, stood here in the earliest times of Islam. I shall conclude my description of Mekka with that of [p.177] the opening of the Kaaba, which I deferred, that the description of the mosque might not be interrupted. The Kaaba is opened only three times in the year: on the 20th of the month of Ramadhan, on the 15th of Zulkade, and on the 10th of Moharram (or Ashour, as the Arabs call it). The opening takes place one hour after sun-rise, when the steps are wheeled up to the gate of the building: as soon as they touch the wall, immense crowds rush upon them, and in a moment fill the whole interior of the Kaaba. The steps are lined by the eunuchs of the mosque, who endeavour in vain to keep order, and whose sticks fall heavy upon those who do not drop a fee into their hands; many of the crowd, however, are often unmercifully crushed. In the interior every visitor is to pray eight rikats, or make sixteen prostrations; in every corner of it two rikats: but it may easily be conceived how these prayers are performed, and that while one is bowing down, another walks over him. After the prayers are finished, the visitor is to lean with extended arms against any part of the wall, with his face pressed against it, and thus to recite two pious ejaculations. Sobbing and moaning fill the room; and I thought I perceived most heartfelt emotions and sincere repentance in many of the visitors: the following, and other similar ejaculations, are heard, and many faces are bedewed with tears: �O God of the house, O God forgive me, and forgive my parents, and my children! O God, admit me into paradise! O God, deliver our necks from hell-fire, O thou God of the old house!� I could not stay longer than five minutes; the heat was so great that I almost fainted, and several persons were carried out with great difficulty, quite senseless. At the entrance sits a Sherif, holding the silver key of the Kaaba in his hand, which he presents to be kissed by the pilgrim, who for this pays a fee, on coming out; money is also given to a eunuch, who sits by that Sherif. Some eunuchs on the steps, and several menial officers and servants on the pavement below, which surrounds the Kaaba, expect also to be paid. I heard many hadjys animadvert severely upon this shameful practice, saying that the most holy spot upon earth should not be made the scene of human avarice and greediness; but the Mekkawys are invulnerable to such reproaches. [p.178] The Kaaba remains open till about eleven o�clock. On the following day it is opened exclusively for women. After visiting the Kaaba it is thought necessary to perform the towaf round it. The interior of the Kaaba consists of a single room, the roof of which is supported by two columns, and it has no other light than what is received by the door. The ceiling, the upper half of the two columns, and the side walls, to within about five feet of the floor, are hung with a thick stuff of red silk, richly interwoven with flowers and inscriptions in large characters of silver; the lower part of each column is lined with carved aloe-wood; and that part of the walls below the silk hangings is lined with fine white marble, ornamented with inscriptions cut in relief, and with elegant arabesques; the whole being of exquisite workmanship. The floor, which is upon a level with the door, and therefore about seven feet above the level of the area of the mosque, is laid with marble of different colours. Between the pillars numerous lamps are suspended, donations of the faithful, and said to be of solid gold; they were not touched by the Wahabys. [Kotobeddyn relates, that the Sheikhs of Mekka stole the golden lamps suspended in the Kaaba, and conveyed them away in the wide sleeves of their gowns. Many golden lamps were sent here by Sultan Soleyman.] In the north-west corner of the chamber is a small gate, which leads up to the flat roof of the building. I observed nothing else worthy of remark; but the room is so dark, that it requires some time before any thing can be seen in it. The interior ornaments are coeval with the restoration of the Kaaba, which took place A.D. 1627. I am unacquainted with any holy ceremony observed in washing the floor of the Kaaba, as mentioned in the Travels of Aly Bey el Abasy: I have seen the Towasheys perform that duty, in the same manner as on the pavement around it; although it appears from the history of Asamy, that the floor of the Kaaba is sometimes washed by great personages. The visit to the interior of the Kaaba forms no part of the religious duty of the pilgrim, and many of them quit Mekka without seeing it. I saw it twice; on the 15th of Zulkade, and the 10th of Moharram. At the latter period the new hangings, brought from Cairo by Mohammed Aly, had been put up: they were of very rich stuff, much finer and [p.179] closer in texture than the black exterior cover. The old hangings, which had been up for more than twenty years, were now publicly sold to devotees at the rate of about one dollar for a piece of six inches square. The right of offering these hangings was in the person who gave the exterior kessoua, though exceptions sometimes occurred, as in A.H. 865, when Shah Rokh, king of Persia, sent a magnificent covering for the interior. [See Kotobeddyn.] Before the gate called Bab-es-Salam is a shop where pieces both of the exterior and interior coverings are constantly for sale: those of the latter are most esteemed. I have seen waistcoats made of them, which, of course, are reckoned the safest coat of mail that one of the faithful can wear. In the same shop are sold drawings of Mekka and Medina, done in a coarse and most gaudy style upon paper or linen, and small impressions of prayers, &c. from engravings on wood. I bought some of these, for the same purpose as the Zemzem bottles which I took front hence. [p.180] REMARKS ON THE INHABITANTS OF MEKKA AND DJIDDA. MEKKA and Djidda are inhabited by the same class of people; and their character and customs are the same. I have already remarked that all the rich Mekkawys have houses at Djidda, and that the commercial employments of the two cities are alike. The inhabitants of Mekka may be all styled foreigners, or the offspring of foreigners, except a few Hedjaz Bedouins, or their descendants, who have settled here. The ancient tribe of Koreysh, which was divided into a wandering and a settled branch, is almost extinct. There are some Bedouins of Koreysh still in the neighbourhood; but the settled Koreysh, who were the inhabitants of Mekka in the time of Mohammed, have either been destroyed, or have migrated, in consequence of the frequent intestine wars. At this moment three Koreysh families only, descendants of the ancient tribe of that name, are found at Mekka, the head of one of which is the Nayb, or keeper of the mosque; and the two others are poor people, also attached to its service. The neighbourhood of the great mart of Djidda, the yearly arrival of immense caravans, and the holy house, have attracted, however, a sufficient number of strangers to supply the place of the Koreysh. In every hadj some of the pilgrims remain behind: the Mohammedan, whenever resident for any time in a town, takes a wife, and is thus often induced to settle permanently on the spot. Hence most of the Mekkawys are descendants of foreigners from distant parts of the [p.181] globe, who have adopted Arabian manners, and, by intermarrying, have produced a race which can no longer be distinguished from the indigenous Arabians. On questioning shopkeepers, merchants, olemas, metowafs, and indeed people of every description, they are found to be the sons, grandsons, or descendants of foreigners. The most numerous are those whose fathers came from Yemen and Hadramaut; next to them in numbers are the descendants of Indians, Egyptians, Syrians, Mogrebyns, and Turks. There are also Mekkawys of Persian origin; Tatars, Bokhars, Kurds, Afghans; in short, of almost every Mohammedan country in the world. The Mekkawy is careful in preserving, by tradition, the knowledge of his original country. My metowaf or guide traced his descent to an Usbek Tatar, from the neighbourhood of Bokhara, and whenever any hadjys arrived from that quarter, he never failed to recommend himself as their guide, though entirely ignorant of their language. There is, however, one branch of the ancient Arabians remaining in Mekka; these are the native Sherifs, (as distinguished from the descendants of foreign Sherifs who have settled here:) they derive their pedigree from Hassan and Hosseyn, the sons of Fatme, the daughter of Mohammed; a descent claimed equally by the other Sherifs, but whose genealogies are supposed to be less authentic. The Mekka Sherifs form a large class, into which no foreigners are admitted, and it is spreading over many other parts of Arabia. I am not thoroughly acquainted with their history, or the period at which they began to branch out into particular tribes; and I can only state that they acknowledge many, but not all Sherifs of Yemen, and other parts of the Hedjaz, as their distant relations: at present they are divided into several tribes, out of one of which the reigning Sherif must be chosen, as I shall mention below. At Mekka a difference is observed in the name given to the Sherifs, according to their profession. Those who are employed in study and the law, and occupied more or less about the temple and its dependencies are called Seyd, while those who become soldiers, and mix in state affairs, are known exclusively by the term Sherif. The Seyds are followers of religion (say the Mekkawys), the Sherifs are soldiers. The son usually follows the vocation of the [p.182] father. These native Sherifs are the head men of the town, or at least were so before their pride was broken by the Turkish conquest. Though a mixed population, the inhabitants of Mekka wear the same sort of dress, and have the same customs; and although of different origin, they seem to be much less tenacious of their national costume and manners in this holy city than any where else. In Syria and Egypt, strangers from all parts of Asia retain with the greatest strictness the dress and mode of living of their native countries, though established for life in their new abodes; a circumstance which renders the view of an eastern bazar infinitely more interesting than any large assemblage of people in Europe. In the Hedjaz, on the contrary, most of the foreign visitors change their native costume for that of the people of the country; and their children born there are brought up and clothed in the fashion of the Mekkawys. The Indians, as I have already remarked in speaking of Djidda, offer an exception to this general rule; they form a distinct colony, and retain their native language, which the children of other strangers usually forget, their mothers being in many instances Arabs, natives of Mekka. The colour of the Mekkawy and Djiddawy is a yellowish sickly brown, lighter or darker according to the origin of the mother, who is very often an Abyssinian slave. Their features approach much nearer to those of Bedouins than I have observed in any townsmen of the East; this is particularly observable in the Sherifs, who are gifted with very handsome countenances; they have the eye, face, and aquiline nose of the Bedouin, but are more fleshy. The lower class of Mekkawys are generally stout, with muscular limbs, while the higher orders are distinguishable by their meagre emaciated forms, as are also all those inhabitants who draw their origin from India or Yemen. The Bedouins who surround Mekka, though poor, are much stronger-bodied than the wealthier Bedouins of the interior of the Desert, probably because their habits are less roving, and because they are less exposed to the hardships of long journies. The Mekkawy, it may be generally said, is inferior in strength and size to the Syrian or Egyptian, but far exceeds him in expressive features, and especially in the vivacity and brilliancy of the eye. [p.183] All the male natives of Mekka and Djidda are tattooed with a particular mark, which is performed by their parents when they are forty days of age. It consists of three long cuts down both cheeks; and two on the right temple, the scars of which, sometimes three or four lines in breadth, remain through life. It is called Meshále. The Bedouins do not follow this practice; but the Mekkawys pride themselves in the distinction, which precludes the other inhabitants of the Hedjaz from claiming, in foreign countries, the honour of being born in the holy cities. This tattooing is sometimes, though very seldom, applied to female children. The people of Bornou, in the interior of Africa, have a similar, though much slighter, mark on both cheeks. The dress of the higher classes, in winter, is a cloth benish, or upper cloak; and a djubbe, or under cloak, likewise of cloth, and such as is worn in all parts of Turkey. A showy silk gown, tied with a thin cashmere sash, a white muslin turban, and yellow slippers, constitute the rest of the dress. In summer, instead of the cloth benish, they wear one of very slight silk stuff, of Indian manufacture, called Moktar khána. The highest classes, who affect the Turkish fashion in their dress, wear red Barbary caps under the turban; those of the other classes are of linen richly embroidered with silk, the work of the women of Mekka, and a common present from a woman to her lover: on the top sometimes are embroidered in large characters sentences of the Koran. The gowns of well-dressed people of the middle class are generally of white India muslin, without any lining; they are called beden, and differ from the common Levantine antery, in being very short, and without sleeves, and in being of course much cooler: over the beden a djubbe of light cloth, or Indian silk stuff, is worn, which, in time of great heat, a man throws over his shoulders; the gown and under-shirt are then his only covering. The shirts are of Indian silk or Egyptian or Anatolian linen, and as fine as the wearer can afford to purchase. The lower classes usually wear, at least in summer, nothing but a shirt, and instead of trowsers a piece of yellow Indian nankin, or [p.184] striped Egyptian linen round their loins; over this, in winter, they have a beden of striped Indian calico, but without a belt to tie it round the body. The lower and middle classes wear sandals instead of shoes, a custom very agreeable in this hot climate, as it contributes to the coolness of the feet. The best sandals come from Yemen, where all kinds of leather manufacture seem to flourish. In summer, many people, and all the lower Indians, wear the cap only, without the turban. The usual turban is of Indian cambric, or muslin, which each class ties round the head in a particular kind of fold. Those who style themselves Olemas, or learned doctors, allow the extremity to fall down in a narrow stripe to the middle of their back. The Mekkawys are cleaner in their dress than any Eastern people I have seen. As white muslin, or white cambric, forms the principal part of their clothing, it requires frequent washing; and this is regularly done, so that even the poorest orders endeavour to change their linen at least once a week. With the higher and middle classes, the change is, of course, more frequent. The rich wear every day a different dress; and it is no uncommon thing with many to possess thirty or forty suits. The people of the Hedjaz delight in dress much more than the northern Mohammedans; and the earnings of the lower classes are mostly spent in clothes. When a Mekkawy returns home from his shop, or even after a short walk into the town, he immediately undresses, hangs up his clothes over a cord tied across his sitting-room, takes off his turban, changes his shirt, and then seats himself upon his carpet, with a thin under-cap upon his head. In this dishabille they receive visitors; and to delineate a Mekkawy, he should be represented sitting in his undress, near a projecting latticed window, having in one hand a sort of fan, generally of this form, [not included] made of chippings of date-leaves, with which he drives away the flies; and in the other, the long snake of his Persian pipe. [p.185] On feast-days they display their love of dress in a still higher degree; from the richest to the poorest, every one must then be dressed in a new suit of clothes; and if he cannot afford to buy, he hires one from the dealers for two or three days. On these occasions, as much as one hundred piastres are sometimes given for the hire of a dress, worth altogether, perhaps, fifteen hundred or two thousand piastres. No one is then content with a dress suited to his station in life, but assumes that of the class above him. The common shopkeeper, who walks about the whole year in his short gown, with a napkin round his loins, appears in a pink-coloured benish, lined with satin, a gold-embroidered turban, a rich silk sash, worked with silver thread, and a djombye, or crooked knife, stuck in his sash, the scabbard of which is covered with coins of silver and gold. The children are dressed out in the same expensive manner; and a person would submit to be called a thief, rather than allow those of equal rank to exceed him in finery. In general, the most gaudy colours are preferred; and the upper cloak must always be a contrast in colour to the garment worn beneath it. During festivals, cashmere shawls are also worn, though seldom seen at other times, except on women, and the warlike Sherifs; but every Mekkawy in easy circumstances has an assortment of them in his wardrobe. After the feast, the fine suit is laid aside, and every one returns to his wonted station. Every grown-up Mekkawy carries a long stick; among the lower orders, they may rather be called bludgeons. An olema is never seen without his stick. Few persons go armed, except among the lower classes, or the Sherifs, who carry crooked knives in their belts. The women of Mekka and Djidda dress in Indian silk gowns, and very large blue striped trowsers, reaching down to the ankles, and embroidered below with silver thread; over these they wear the wide gown called habra, of black silk stuff, used in Egypt and Syria; or a blue and white striped silk mellaye of Indian manufacture. The face is concealed by a white, or light blue borko; on the head, covered by the mellaye, they wear a cap like the men�s, around which a piece of coloured muslin is tightly twisted in folds. The head-dress is said to [p.186] be less ornamented with gold coins, pearls, and jewels, than that of the ladies of Egypt and Syria; but they have, at least, one string of sequins tied round it: many have gold necklaces, bracelets, and silver ankle-rings. The poorer women wear the blue Egyptian shirt, and large trowsers, like those already mentioned; and bracelets of horn, glass, or amber. The children of Mekka are not so spoiled by their parents as they are in other countries of the East; as soon as they can walk freely, they are allowed to play in the street before the house, clad in very light clothes, or rather half-naked. On this account, probably, they are stouter and healthier than the bandaged children of Syria and Egypt; of whom it may be truly said that they are often nursed to death. There are few families at Mekka, in moderate circumstances, that do not keep slaves. Mohammed found the African slave-trade so firmly established in Arabia, that he made no effort to abolish it; and thus he has confirmed, and extended throughout Northern Africa, this traffic, with all its attendant cruelties, besides those which have followed the propagation of Islam. The male and female servants are negroes, or noubas, usually brought from Sowakin: the concubines are always Abyssinian slaves. No wealthy Mekkawy prefers domestic peace to the gratification of his passions; they all keep mistresses in common with their lawful wives: but if a slave gives birth to a child, the master generally marries her, or, if he fails to do so, is censured by the community. The keeping of Abyssinian concubines is still more prevalent at Djidda. Many Mekkawys have no other than Abyssinian wives, finding the Arabians more expensive, and less disposed to yield to the will of the husband. The same practice is adopted by many foreigners, who reside in the Hedjaz for a short time. Upon their arrival, they buy a female companion, with the design of selling her at their departure; but sometimes their stay is protracted; the slave bears a child; they marry her, and become stationary in the town. There are very few men unmarried, or without a slave. This, indeed, is general in the East, and no where more so than at Mekka. The [p.187] mixture of Abyssinian blood has, no doubt, given to the Mekkawys that yellow tinge of the skin which distinguishes them from the natives of the Desert. Among the richer classes, it is considered shameful to sell a concubine slave. If she bears a child, and the master has not already four legally married wives, he takes her in matrimony; if not, she remains in his house for life; and in some instances the number of concubines is increased to several dozen, old and young. The middling and lower classes in Mekka are not so scrupulous as their superiors: they buy up young Abyssinians on speculation; educate them in the family; teach them cooking, sewing, &c.; and then sell them at a profit to foreigners, at least such as prove barren. I have been informed by physicians, barbers, and druggists, that the practice of causing abortion is frequent here. The seed of the tree which produces the balsam of Mekka, is the drug commonly used for this purpose. The Mekkawys make no distinction whatever between sons born of Abyssinian slaves and those of free Arabian women. The inhabitants of Mekka have but two kinds of employment,--trade, and the service of the Beitullah, or Temple; but the former has the preference, and there are very few olemas, or persons employed in the mosque, who are not engaged in some commercial affairs, though they are too proud to pursue them openly. The reader has probably remarked, in the foregoing description of Mekka, how few artisans inhabit its streets; such as masons, carpenters, tailors, shoemakers, smiths, &c., and these are far inferior, in skill, to the same class in Egypt. With the exception of a few potteries and dying-houses, the Mekkawys have not a single manufactory; but, like the people of Djidda, are dependent upon other countries for a supply of their wants. Mekka, therefore, has necessarily a considerable degree of foreign commerce, which is chiefly carried on, during the pilgrimage, and some months preceding it, by the wealthy hadjys, who bring from every Muselman country its native productions to Djidda, either by sea or across the Desert from Damascus, exchanging them amongst each other; or receiving from the merchants of Mekka the goods of India and Arabia, which the latter have accumulated the whole year in [p.188] their warehouses. At this period, Mekka becomes one of the largest fairs of the East, and certainly the most interesting, from the variety of nations which frequent it. The value of the exports from Mekka is, however, greatly superior to that of the imports, and a considerable sum of money, in dollars and sequins, required to balance them. Of these, some part finds its way to Yemen and India; and about one-fourth remains in the hands of the Mekkawys. So profitable is this trade, that the goods bought at Djidda from the merchants, who purchase them out of the ships which arrive there from India, yield, when sold wholesale at Mekka, during the Hadj, a clear gain of twenty to thirty per cent., and of fifty per cent. when sold in retail. It is not surprising, therefore, that all the people of Mekka are merchants. Whoever can make up a sum of a few hundred dollars, repairs to Djidda, and lays it out on goods, which he exposes for sale during the pilgrimage. Much profit is also fraudulently made: great numbers of hadjys are ignorant of the Arabic language, and are consequently placed in the hands of brokers or interpreters, who never fail to make them pay dearly for their services; indeed, all Mekka seems united in the design of cheating the pilgrims. Formerly, when the caravans enjoyed perfect security on the road, goods were chiefly transported by land to. Mekka: at present, few merchants trust their property to the hazards of a passage across the Desert; they rather forego the advantage of importing them into Mekka duty-free, the great privilege possessed by the caravans, and carry them by sea to Djidda, on which road all the hadjys of Africa and Turkey pay a double duty; once in Egypt, and again at Djidda both duties are received by Mohammed Aly. At present, therefore, the smaller traffic only is carried on by the caravans, which remain but a few days at Mekka. The shopkeepers and retail dealers of the city derive greater profits from them than the wholesale merchants. The principal business of the latter occurs during the months previous to the pilgrimage, when foreign merchants arrive by the way of Djidda, and have full leisure to settle their affairs before the Hadj takes place. In time of peace with the interior, there is a considerable trade [p.189] with the Bedouins, and especially with the inhabitants of the towns of Nedjed, who are in want of India goods, drugs, and articles of dress, which they procure either from Medina, or at a cheaper rate from Mekka. Coffee, so much used in the Desert, is imported by the people of Nedjed themselves, who send their own caravans to the coffee country of Yemen. The Mekkawys, especially those who are not sufficiently opulent to trade in India goods, (which require a good deal of ready cash, and lie sometimes long on hand,) employ their capital during the interval of the Hadj, in the traffic of corn and provisions. This was much more profitable formerly than it is at present; for Mohammed Aly having made these articles a monopoly, the people are now obliged to purchase the grain in Djidda, at the Pasha�s own price, and to be contented with a moderate gain on re-selling it at Mekka. After paying freight, however, it still leaves a profit of fifteen or twenty per cent.; and it is a species of traffic peculiarly attractive to the smaller capitals, as, the prices being very variable, it is a lottery by which money may sometimes be doubled in a short time. At the approach of the pilgrimage, every kind of provision rises in value; and, in a smaller proportion, every other article of trade. Those who have warehouses filled with corn, rice, and biscuits, are sure to obtain considerable profits. To provide food, during their stay, for an influx of population amounting to sixty thousand human beings, and for twenty thousand camels, together with provisions for their return homewards, is a matter of no small moment, and Mohammed Aly has not yet ventured to take the whole of it into his hands. Every Mekkawy possessing a few dollars, lays them out in the purchase of some kind of provision, which, when the Hadj approaches, he transports upon his ass from Djidda to Mekka. Whenever the interior of Arabia is open to caravans, Bedouins from all the surrounding parts purchase their yearly provision of corn at Mekka; which itself also, in time of peace, receives a considerable quantity of corn from Yemen, especially Mokhowa, a town which is ten days� journey distant, at the western foot of the great chain, and the mart of the Arabs who cultivate those mountains. I heard that [p.190] the imports from Mokhowa amounted to half the demand of Mekka; but this seems doubtful, though I have no means of forming a correct estimate, as the route is at present unfrequented, and Mekka receives its provisions wholly from Djidda. The consumption of grain, it may be observed, is much greater in Arabia than in any of the surrounding countries; the great mass of the population living almost entirely upon wheat, barley, lentils, or rice; using no vegetables, but a great deal of butter. Unless a person is himself engaged in commercial concerns, or has an intelligent friend among the wholesale merchants, it is difficult, if not impossible, for him to obtain any accurate details of so extensive a trade as that carried on by Mekka. I shall, therefore, abstain from making any partial, and, on that account, probably erroneous remarks, on its different branches, with which I am not well acquainted, and which I could find no one at Mekka to explain to me. It will naturally be supposed that Mekka is a rich town: it would be still more so, if the lower classes did not so rapidly spend their gains in personal indulgences. The wholesale merchants are rich; and as the whole of their business is carried on with ready money, they are less exposed to losses than other Eastern merchants. Most of them have an establishment at Djidda, and the trade of both towns is closely connected. During the time of the Wahabys, the interior of Arabia was opened to Mekka; but the foreign imports, by sea and land, were reduced to what was wanted for the use of the inhabitants. The great fair of the pilgrimage no longer took place; and although some foreign hadjys still visited the holy city, they did not trust their goods to the chance of being seized by the Wahabys. Under these circumstances, the principal inducement with the Mekkawys to remain in the town, namely, their unceasing gains, no longer existed. The rich waited for a renewal of the Hadj caravans; but many of the poor, unable longer to find subsistence, retired from Mekka, and settled at Djidda, or other harbours on the Red Sea; whither they have been followed by many of the more respectable traders. Trade is carried on by means of brokers, many of whom are Indians: in general, the community of Indians is the wealthiest in [p.191] Mekka. They are in direct intercourse with all the harbours of Hindostan, and can often afford to undersell their competitors. Many of them, as has been already observed, are stationary here, while others are constantly travelling backward and forward between India and the Hedjaz. They all retain their native language, which they teach their children, and also many merchants of Mekka superficially, so that most of the latter understand, at least, the Hindostanee numerals, and the most ordinary phrases employed in buying and selling. The Indians labour under great difficulties in learning Arabic; I never heard any of them, however long resident in the Hedjaz, speak it with a tolerable accent: in this respect they are inferior to the Turks, whose pronunciation of Arabic so often affords subject of ridicule to the Arabian mob. The children of Indians, born at Mekka, of course speak Arabic as their native language. The Indians have the custom of writing Arabic with Hindostanee characters. They are said to be extremely parsimonious; and, from what I saw of them in the houses of some of their first merchants, they seem to deserve the character. They are shrewd traders, and an overmatch, sometimes, even for the Arabians. They are despicable, from their want of charity; but they display among themselves a spirited manner, which makes them respected, and even sometimes dreaded, at Mekka. Many of them have partners in India; consequently they receive their goods cheaper than they can be bought from the Indian ships at Djidda: hence the inferior dealers and shopkeepers at Mekka often find it more convenient to purchase from them at short credit, than to go to Djidda, where every thing must be paid for in ready money. With the exception of one or two houses, no Arabian merchants of Mekka receive their goods direct from India, but purchase them from the India fleet. Of all the people at Mekka none are more strict in the performance of their religious rites than the Indians. Dealers, when bargaining in the presence of others from whom they wish to conceal their business, join their right hands under the corner of the gown or sleeve of one of the parties; by touching the different joints of the fingers they note the numerals, and thus silently conclude their bargain. [p.192] The Mekkawys who do not ostensibly follow commerce, are attached to the government, or to the establishment of the mosque; but as I have already said, they all engage, more or less, in some branch of traffic, and the whole population looks forward to the period of the Hadj as the source of their income. The persons attached to the mosque have regular salaries, partake in the general presents made to it, expect many private donations from charitable devotees, and share in the stipends which are brought by the Syrian and Egyptian caravans. These stipends, called Surra, (of which I have already given an account,) derive their origin principally from the Sultans of Constantinople, who, upon their accession to the throne, generally fix a certain yearly sum for the maintenance of the poor, and the worthiest individuals of Mekka and Medina. They are distributed in both towns by the Kadhy, as he thinks proper; but if a person has been once presented with a stipend, he enjoys it for life, and it descends to his children. He receives a ticket signed by the Kadhy, the Sherif, and the Surra-writer, and his name is entered in a register at Mekka, of which a duplicate is sent annually by the returning Hadj to Constantinople, where the name is enrolled in the general Surra-book. The Surra is made up at Constantinople in a great number of small packets, each containing the stipulated sum, and indorsed with the name of the individual to whom it is destined. If any fresh sum is sent to be distributed, the Kadhy divides it, informs the inspector of the Surra at Constantinople to whom the money has been given, and in the following year the additional packages, addressed to the new pensioners, are added to the former number. Some of the Surras are brought from Egypt, but the far greater part from Constantinople, by way of Syria: this part is very regularly received. Each caravan has its own Surra-writer, whose duty also it is to distribute all the other money or tribute which the caravan pays to Bedouins and Arabs, on its road to Mekka. The Surra for Mekka is distributed in the mosque, under the windows of the Kadhy�s house, after the departure of the Hadj. There are persons who receive so small a sum as one piastre; the greater number from ten to twenty piastres; but there are a few [p.193] families who receive as much as two thousand piastres annually. Although not always given to the most worthy, many poor families derive support from this allowance. The tickets are transferable; the Kadhy and the Sherif must sign the transfer; and the new name, a small compliment being given to the Kadhy�s scribe, is registered and sent to Constantinople. In former times a Mekkawy could scarcely be induced to sell his Surra, which he considered an honour as well as the most certain provision for his family. The value, however, of the Surra has much changed. During the time of the Wahabys the tickets had almost entirely lost their value, as for eight years their holders had received no pay. They have now recovered a little; but some were lately sold at two years and a half purchase, which may afford an idea of the opinion current at Mekka as to the stability of the Turkish government, or the probability of the return of the Wahabys. The idlest, most impudent, and vilest individuals of Mekka adopt the profession of guides (metowaf or delyl); and as there is no want of those qualities, and a sufficient demand for guides during the Hadj, they are very numerous. Besides the places which I have described in the town, the metowafs accompany the hadjys to all the other places of resort in the sacred district, and are ready to perform every kind of service in the city. But their utility is more than counterbalanced by their importunity and knavery. They besiege the room of the hadjy from sun-rise to sun-set; and will not allow him to do any thing without obtruding their advice: they sit down with him to breakfast, dinner, and supper; lead him into all possible expenses, that they may pocket a share of them; suffer no opportunity to pass of asking him for money; and woe to the poor ignorant Turk who employs them as his interpreter in any mercantile concern. My first delyl was the man of Medina at whose house I lodged during the last days of Ramadhan. On returning to Mekka a second time, I unfortunately met him in the street; and though I was far from giving him a hearty welcome, having sufficient reason to suspect his honesty, he eagerly embraced me, and forthwith made my new lodgings his home. At first he accompanied me every day in my walks round the Kaaba, to recite the prayers used on that occasion: these, however, I soon learned [p.194] by heart, and therefore dispensed with his services on the occasion. He sat down regularly at dinner with me, and often brought a small basket, which he ordered my slave to fill with biscuits, meat vegetables or fruit, and carried away with him. Every third or fourth day he asked for money: �It is not you who give it,� he said; �it is God who sends it to me.� Finding there was no polite mode of getting rid of him, I told him plainly, that I no longer wanted his services; language to which a Mekka delyl is not accustomed. After three days, however, he returned, as if nothing had happened, and asked me for a dollar. �God does not move me to give you any thing,� I replied; �if he judged it right, he would soften my heart, and cause me to give you my whole purse.� �Pull my beard,� he exclaimed, �if God does not send you ten times more hereafter than what I beg at present.� �Pull out every hair of mine,� I replied, �if I give you one para, until I am convinced that God will consider it a meritorious act.� On hearing this he jumped up, and walked away, saying, �We fly for refuge to God, from the hearts of the proud and the hands of the avaricious.� These people never speak ten words without pronouncing the name of God or Mohammed; they are constantly seen with the rosary in their hands, and mumble prayers even during conversation. This character of the metowafs is so applicable to the people of Mekka in general, that at Cairo they use the following proverb, to repress the importunity of an insolent beggar: �Thou art like the Mekkawy, thou sayest �Give me,� and �I am thy master.�� As I was obliged to have a delyl, I next engaged an old man of Tatar origin, with whom having made a sort of treaty at the outset, I had reason to be tolerably satisfied. What I paid at Mekka to the delyls, and at the places of holy visit, amounted, perhaps, altogether to three hundred and fifty piastres, or thirty dollars; but I gave no presents, either to the mosque, or to any of its officers, which is done only by great hadjys, or by those who wish to be publicly noticed. Some of the delyls are constantly stationed near the Kaaba, waiting to be hired for the walks round it; and if they see a pilgrim walking alone, they often, unasked, take hold of his hand, and begin to recite the prayers. The charge for this service is about half a piastre; and I [p.195] have observed them bargaining with the hadjy at the very gate of the Kaaba, in the hearing of every body. The poorer delyls are contented with the fourth of a piastre. Many shopkeepers, and people of the third class, send their sons who know the prayers by heart, to this station, to learn the profession of delyl. Those who understand the Turkish language earn great wages. As the Turkish hadjys usually arrive by way of Djidda, in parties of from eight to twelve, who have quitted their homes in company, and live together at Mekka, one delyl generally takes charge of the whole party, and expects a fee in proportion to their number. It often happens that the hadjys, on returning home, recommend him to some other party of their countrymen, who, on reaching Djidda, send him orders to provide lodgings for them in Mekka, to meet them at Djidda, to superintend their short journey to the holy city, and to guide them in the prayers that must be recited on first entering it. Some of these delyls are constantly found at Djidda during the three months immediately preceding the Hadj: I have seen them on the road to Mekka, riding at the head of their party, and treated by them with great respect and politeness. A Turk from Europe, or Asia Minor, who knows not a word of Arabic, is overjoyed to find a smooth-tongued Arab who speaks his language, and who promises all kinds of comforts in Mekka, which he had been taught to consider as a place where nothing awaited him but danger and fatigue. A delyl who has twelve Turkish hadjys under his care for a month, generally gains as much as suffices for the expenses of his house during the whole year, besides new clothing for himself and all his children. Some of these delyls have a very singular office. The Mohammedan law prescribes that no unmarried woman shall perform the pilgrimage; and that even every married woman must be accompanied by her husband, or at least a very near relation (the Shafay sect does not even allow the latter). Female hadjys sometimes arrive from Turkey for the Hadj; rich old widows, who wish to see Mekka before they die; or women who set out with their husbands, and lose them on the road by disease. In such cases, the female finds at Djidda, delyls (or, as this class is called, Muhallil) ready to facilitate their progress through the sacred territory in the character of husbands. [p.196] The marriage contract is written out before the Kadhy; and the ladt, accompanied by her delyl, performs the pilgrimage to Mekka, Arafat, and all the sacred places. This, however, is understood to be merely a nominal marriage; and the delyl must divorce the woman on his return to Djidda: if he were to refuse a divorce, the law cannot compel him to it, and the marriage would be considered binding; but he could no longer exercise the lucrative profession of delyl; and my informant could only recollect two examples of the delyl continuing to be the woman�s husband. I believe there is not any exaggeration of the number, in stating that there are eight hundred full-grown delyls, besides boys who are learning the profession. Whenever a shopkeeper loses his customers, or a poor man of letters wishes to gain as much money as will purchase an Abyssinian slave, he turns delyl. The profession is one of little repute; but many a prosperous Mekkawy has, at some period of his life, been a member of it. From trade, stipends, and the profits afforded by hadjys, the riches which annually flow into Mekka are very considerable, and might have rendered it one of the richest cities in the East, were it not for the dissolute habits of its inhabitants. With the exception of the first class of merchants, who, though they keep splendid establishments, generally live below their income, and a great part of the second class, who hoard up money with the view of attaining the first rank, the generality of Mekkawys, of all descriptions and professions, are loose and disorderly spendthrifts. The great gains which they make during three or four months, are squandered in good living, dress, and the grossest gratifications; and in proportion as they feel assured of the profits of the following year, they care little about saving any part of those of the present. In the month of Moharram, as soon as the Hadj is over, and the greater part of the pilgrims have departed, it is customary to celebrate marriage and circumcision feasts. These are celebrated at Mekka in a very splendid style; and a man that has not more than three hundred dollars to spend in the year, will then throw away half that sum in the marriage or the circumcision of his child. Neither the sanctity of the holy city, nor the solemn injunctions of the Koran, are able to deter the inhabitants of Mekka from the using of [p.197] spirituous liquors, and indulging in all the excesses which are the usual consequences of drunkenness. The Indian fleet imports large quantities of raky in barrels. This spirit, mixed with sugar, and an extract of cinnamon, is sold under the name of cinnamon-water. The Sherifs in Mekka and Djidda, great merchants, olemas, and all the chief people are in the habit of drinking this liquor, which they persuade themselves is neither wine nor brandy, and therefore not prohibited by the law. The less wealthy inhabitants cannot purchase so dear a commodity; but they use a fermented liquor made from raisins, and imported from Tayf, while the lower classes drink bouza. During my stay at Tayf, a Turk belonging to the suite of Mohammed Aly Pasha distilled brandy from grapes, and publicly sold it at forty piastres the bottle. The Mekkawys are very expensive in their houses: the rooms are embellished with fine carpets, and an abundance of cushions and sofas covered with brocade: amidst the furniture is seen much beautiful china- ware, and several nargiles adorned with silver. A petty shopkeeper would be ashamed to receive his acquaintances in a house less splendidly fitted up. Their tables also are better supplied than in any other country of the East, where even respectable families live economically in this respect. A Mekkawy, even of the lower class, must have daily on his table meat which costs from one and a half to two piastres the pound; his coffee-pot is never removed from the fire; and himself, his women and children are almost constantly using the nargile, and the tobacco which supplies it cannot be a very trifling expense. The women have introduced the fashion, not uncommon in Turkey, of visiting each other at least once a week with all their children; the visit lasts the whole day, and an abundant entertainment is provided on the occasion: the vanity of each mistress of a house makes her endeavour to surpass her acquaintances in show and magnificence; thus a continual expense is entailed on every family. Among the sources of expenditure must be enumerated the purchasing of Abyssinian female slaves who are kept by the men, or money bestowed on the public women whom several of them frequent. Considerable sums are also lavished in sensual gratification still more vicious and degrading, but [p.198] unfortunately as prevalent in the towns of the Hedjaz as in some other parts of Asia, or in Egypt under the Mamelouks. It has been already observed that the temple of Mekka itself, the very sanctuary of the Mohammedan religion, is almost publicly and daily contaminated by practices of the grossest depravity: to these no disgrace is here attached; the young of all classes are encouraged in them by the old, and even parents have been so base as to connive at them for the sake of money. From such pollution, however, the encampments of the Arabian Bedouins are exempt; although their ancestors were not, in this respect, immaculate, if we may credit some scandalous anecdotes recorded by Eastern historians. But my account of the public women (who are very numerous) must here be resumed. I have already observed that the quarter called Shab Aamer was the residence of the poorer class; those of the higher order are dispersed over the town. Their outward behaviour is more decent than that of any public women in the East, and it requires the experienced eye of a Mekkawy to ascertain by a particular movement in her gait, that the veiled female passing before him belongs to the venal tribe. I shall not venture to speak of the married women of the Hedjaz: I have heard anecdotes related, little to their credit; but in the East, as in other countries, the young men sometimes boast of favours which they never have enjoyed. The exterior demeanour of the women of Djidda and Mekka is very decorous: few of them are ever seen walking or riding in the street; a practice so common at Cairo, though contrary to Oriental ideas of propriety: and I lived in three different houses at Mekka without having seen the unveiled faces of the female inmates. The great merchants of Mekka live very splendidly: in the houses of Djeylany, Sakkat, Ageyl, and El Nour, are establishments of fifty or sixty persons. These merchants obtained their riches principally during the reign of Ghaleb, to whom Djeylany and Sakkat served as spies upon the other merchants. Their tables are furnished daily in abundance with every native delicacy, as well as with those which India and Egypt afford. About twenty persons sit down to dinner with them; the favourite Abyssinian slaves, who serve often as writers or [p.199] cashiers, are admitted to the table of their master; but the inferior slaves and the servants are fed only upon flour and butter. The china and glass ware, in which the dishes are served up, is of the best quality; rose-water is sprinkled on the beards of the guests after dinner, and the room is filled with the odours of aloe-wood, burnt upon the nargiles. There is great politeness without formality; and no men appear in a more amiable light, than the great Mekkawys dispensing hospitality to their guests. Whoever happens to be sitting in the outer hall, when dinner is served up, is requested to join at table, which he does without conceiving himself at all obliged by the invitation, while the host, on his part, appears to think compliance a favour conferred upon him. The rich Mekkawys make two meals daily, one before mid-day, the other after sun-set; the lower classes breakfast at sun-rise, and eat nothing more till near sun-set. As in the negro countries, it is very indecorous for a man to be seen eating in the streets: the Turkish soldiers, who retain their native manners, are daily reprehended by the people of Mekka for their ill-breeding in this respect. Before the Turkish conquest, and the wars of the Sherif with the Wahabys which preceded it, the merchants of Mekka led a very happy life. During the months of May and June they went to attend the sale of India goods at Djidda. In July and August (unless the Hadj happened in these months) they retired to their houses at Tayf, where they passed the hottest season, leaving their acting partners or writers at Djidda and Mekka. During the months of the pilgrimage, they were of course always at Mekka; and every wealthy Mekkawy family followed the Hadj to Arafat as a tour of pleasure, and encamped for three days at Wady Muna. In the month of Radjeb, which is the seventh after the month of the Hadj, a caravan used always to set out from Mekka for Medina, composed of several hundred merchants, mounted upon dromedaries. At that time a large fair was held at Medina, and frequented by many of the surrounding Bedouins, and people of the Hedjaz and Nedjed. The merchandize for its supply was sent from Mekka by a heavy caravan of camels, which set out immediately after the merchants, and [p.200] was called Rukub el Medina. [In general, the Arabs of the Hedjaz call the caravans Rukub; speaking of the Baghdad caravan, they say Rukub es� Shám, or Rukub el Erak.] They remained about twenty days at Medina, and then returned to Mekka. This frequent, yet regular change of abode, must have been very agreeable to the merchants, particularly in those times, when they could calculate with certainty that the next pilgrimage would be a source of new riches to them. Tayf and Medina being now half- ruined, the merchants of Mekka resort to Djidda, as their only place of recreation: but even those who have wives and houses there, talk of their establishments at Mekka as their only real homes, and in it they spend the greater part of the year. The inhabitants of Mekka, Djidda, and (in a less degree) of Medina, are generally of a more lively disposition than either the Syrians or Egyptians. None of those silent, grave automatons are seen here, so common in other parts of the Levant, whose insensibility, or stupidity is commonly regarded among themselves as a proof of feeling, shrewdness, and wisdom. The character of the Mekkawy resembles, in this respect, that of the Bedouin; and did not greediness of gain often distort their features, the smile of mirth would always be on their lips. In the streets and bazars, in the house, and even in the mosque, the Mekkawy loves to laugh and joke. In dealing with each other, or in talking on grave subjects, a proverb, a pun, or some witty allusion, is often introduced, and produces laughter. As the Mekkawys possess, with this vivacity of temper, much intellect, sagacity, and great suavity of manners, which they well know how to reconcile with their innate pride, their conversation is very agreeable; and whoever cultivates a mere superficial acquaintance with them, seldom fails to be delighted with their character. They are more polite towards each other, as well as towards strangers, than the inhabitants of Syria and Egypt, and retain something of the good-natured disposition of the Bedouins, from whom they derive their origin. When they accost each other in [p.201] the streets for the first time in the course of the day, the young man kisses the elder�s hand, or the inferior that of his superior in rank, while the latter returns the salute by a kiss upon the forehead. Individuals of equal rank and age, not of the first class, mutually kiss each other�s hands. [In shaking hands, the people of the Hedjaz lay hold of each other�s thumbs with the whole hand, pressing it, and again opening the hand three or four times. This is called Mesáfeha, and is said to have been a habit of Mohammed.] They say to a stranger, �O faithful,� or �brother;� and the saying of the prophet, �that all faithful are brethren,� is constantly upon their lips. �Welcome, a thousand times welcome,� says a shopkeeper to his foreign customer; �you are the stranger of God, the guest of the holy city; my whole property is at your disposal.� When the service of any one is wanted, the applicant says, �Our whole subsistence, after God, is owing to you pilgrims; can we do less than be grateful?� If in the mosque a foreigner is exposed to the sun, the Mekkawy will make room for him in a shady place; if he passes a coffee-shop, he will hear voices calling him to enter and take a cup of coffee; if a Mekkawy takes a jar to drink from any public water-seller, he will offer it, before he sets it to his mouth, to any passenger; and upon the slightest acquaintance, he will say to his new friend, �When will you honour me at home, and take your supper with me?� When they quarrel among themselves, none of those scurrilous names or vile language is heard, so frequently used in Egypt and Syria; blows are only given on very extraordinary occasions, and the arrival of a respectable person puts an immediate stop to any dispute, on his recommending peace: �God has made us great sinners,� they will then say, �but he has bestowed upon us, likewise, the virtue of easy repentance.� To these amiable qualities the Mekkawys add another, for which they must also be commended: they are a proud race, and though their pride is not founded upon innate worth, it is infinitely preferable to the cringing servility of the other Levantines, who redeem their slavish deference to superiors by the most overbearing haughtiness towards those below them. The Mekkawys are proud of being [p.202] natives of the holy city, of being the countrymen of their prophet; of having preserved, in some degree, his manners; of speaking his pure language; of enjoying, in expectation, all the honours in the next world, which are promised to the neighbours of the Kaaba; and of being much freer men than any of the foreigners whom they see crowding to their city. They exhibit this pride to their own superiors, whom they have taught to treat them with great forbearance and circumspection; and they look upon all other Mohammedan nations as people of an inferior order, to whom their kindness and politeness are the effect of their condescension. Many good consequences might result from this pride, without which a people cannot expect to sustain its rank among nations. It has prevented the people of Mekka from sinking so deep into slavery as some of their neighbours; but it excites them to nothing laudable, while its more immediate effects are seen in the contempt which they entertain for foreigners. This contempt, as I have already remarked, in speaking of Djidda, is chiefly displayed towards the Turks, whose ignorance of the Arabic language, whose dress and manners, the meanness of their conduct whenever they cannot talk as masters; their cowardice exhibited whenever the Hadj has been assailed in its route across the Desert, and the little respect that was shown to them by the Governors of Mekka, as long as the Sherif�s power was unbroken, have lowered them so much in the estimation of the Arabians, that they are held in the Hedjaz as little better than infidels; and although many of the Mekkawys are of Turkish origin, they heartily join the rest of their townsmen in vilifying the stock from which they sprang. The word Turky has become a term of insult towards each other among the children. Noszrany (Christians), or Yahoudy (Jews), are often applied to the Turks by the people of Mekka; and their manners and language afford a perpetual source of ridicule or reproach. The Syrians and Egyptians experience similar effects from the pride of the people of the Hedjaz, but especially the former, as the Egyptians, of all foreigners, approach nearest to the people of Arabia in customs and language, and keep up the most intimate intercourse with them. But the haughty Syrian Moslim, who calls Aleppo or Damascus �Om el Donia,� (the mother of the [p.203] world,) and believes no race of men equal to his own, nor any language so pure as the Syrian, though it is undoubtedly the worst dialect of the Arabic next to the Moggrebyn, is obliged to behave here with great modesty and circumspection, and at least to affect politeness. Although an Arab, he is reproached with dressing and living like a Turk; and to the epithet Shámy (Syrian) the idea is attached of a heavy, untutored clown. If the Arabians were to see the Turks in the countries where they are masters, their dislike towards them would be still greater; for it must be said, that their behaviour in the holy city is, in general, much more decent and conformable to the precepts of their religion, than in the countries from which they come. The Mekkawys believe that their city, with all the inhabitants, is under the especial care of Providence, and that they are so far favoured above all other nations. �This is Mekka! this is the city of God!� they exclaim, when any surprise is expressed at the greater part of them having remained in the town during the stagnation of trade and the absence of pilgrims: �None ever wants his daily bread [h]ere; none fears here the incursion of enemies.� That Saoud saved the town from pillage; that no plundering took place when the Turkish cavalry, under Mostafa Bey, recaptured it from the Wahabys; that the capture of Sherif Ghaleb led to no massacres within the precincts of Mekka, are to them so many visible miracles of the Almighty, to prove the truth of that passage of the Koran, (chap. 106.) in which it is said, �Let them adore the God of the house (the Kaaba), who feeds them in hunger, and secures them from all fear.� But they forget to look back to their own history, which mentions many terrible famines and sanguinary battles, that have happened in this sacred asylum. Indeed, the Hedjaz has suffered more from famine than, perhaps, any other Eastern country. The historians abound with descriptions of such lamentable events: I shall only mention one that happened in 1664, when, as Asamy relates, many people sold their own children at Mekka for a single measure of corn; and when, at Djidda, the populace fed publicly on human flesh. A Mekkawy related to me, that having once resolved to abandon the city, in consequence of the non-arrival of Turkish hadjys, who supplied [p.204] his means of subsistence, an angel appeared to him in his sleep on the night previous to his intended departure. The angel had a flaming sword in his hand, and stood upon the gate of Mekka, through which the dreamer was about to leave the town, and exclaimed, �Unbeliever, remain! the Mekkawys shall eat honey, while all the other people of the earth shall be content with barley bread!� In consequence of this vision he abandoned his project, and continued to live in the town. The exterior politeness of the people of Mekka is in the same proportion to their sincerity, as are their professions of zealous faith and adherence to their religion, with the observance of its precepts. Many of them, especially those who have no particular interest in imposing upon the hadjys by an appearance of extreme strictness, are very relaxed in observing the forms of their religion, thinking it quite sufficient to be Mekkawys and to utter pious ejaculations in public, or supposing that the rigid practice of its precepts is more particularly incumbent upon foreign visitors, who see Mekka only once in their life. Like the Bedouins, many of them are either very irregular in their prayers, or do not pray at all. During the Friday�s prayers, which every Moslim resident in a town is bound to attend, the mosque is filled chiefly with strangers, while many of the people of Mekka are seen smoking in their shops. After the pilgrims have left the town, the service in the mosque is very thinly attended. They never distribute alms, excusing themselves by saying that they were placed by Providence in this town to receive charity, and not to bestow it. They ape the manners recorded of Mohammed, but in his most trifling habits only: their mustachios are cut short, and their beard kept regularly under the scissors, because it was the prophet�s custom to do so. In like manner they allow the end of the turban to fall loosely over the cap; every other day they put kohhel or antimony on their eye-lids, and have always in their hands a messouak or tooth-brush made of a thin branch of the shrub Arak, or one imported by the Persian hadjys. They know by heart many passages of the Koran and Hadyth, (or sacred traditions,) and allude to, or quote them every moment; but they forget that these precepts were given for rules of conduct, and not for mere repetition. Intoxicating liquors are sold at [p.205] the very gates of the mosque: the delyls themselves act in direct contradiction of the law by loudly reciting prayers in the mosque to their pupils the hadjys, in order to allure by their sonorous voices other pilgrims to their guidance, carrying at the same time the common large stick of the Mekkawys. It is also a transgression against the law, when the intoxicating hashysh is openly smoked: cards are played in almost every Arab coffee-house, (they use small Chinese cards,) though the Koran directly forbids games of hazard. The open protection afforded by the government to persons both male and female of the most profligate character, is a further encouragement to daily transgressions against the rigid principles of the Mohammedan law. Cheating and false swearing have ceased to be crimes among them. They are fully conscious of the scandal of these vices: every delyl exclaims against the corruption of manners, but none set an example of reformation; and while acting constantly on principles quite opposite to those which they profess, they unanimously declare that times are such, as to justify the saying, �In el Haram fi belád el Harameyn,� �that the cities forbidden to infidels abound with forbidden things.� In a place where there is no variety of creeds, persecution cannot show itself; but it is probable that the Mekkawys might easily be incited to excesses against those whom they call infidels: for I have always remarked in the East, that the Muselmans most negligent in performing the duties of their religion are the most violent in urging its precepts against unbelievers; and that the grossest superstition is generally found among those who trifle with their duties, or who, like many Osmanlys, even deride them, and lay claim to free-thinking. There is no class of Turks more inveterate in their hatred against Christians than those who, coming frequently into intercourse with them, find it convenient to throw off for a while the appearance of their prejudices. In all the European harbours of the Mediterranean, the Moggrebyns live like unbelievers; but when at home, nothing but fear can induce them to set bounds to their fanaticism. It is the same with the Turks in the Archipelago, and I might adduce many examples from Syria and Egypt in corroboration of this assertion. If fanaticism has somewhat decreased within the last twenty years throughout the [p.206] Turkish empire, the circumstance, I think, may be ascribed solely to the decreasing energy of the inhabitants, and the growing indifference for their own religion, and certainly not to a diffusion of more philanthropic or charitable principles. The text of the Mohammedan law is precise in inciting its followers to unceasing hatred and contempt of all those who profess a different creed. This contempt has not decreased; but animosity gives way to an exterior politeness, whenever the interest of the Mohammedan is concerned. The degree of toleration enjoyed by the Christians, depends upon the interest of the provincial government under which they live: and if they happen to be favoured by it, the Turkish subject bows to the Christian. In all the eastern countries which I have visited, more privileges are allowed to Christians in general than the Moslim code prescribes; but their condition depends upon the fiat of the governor of the town or district; as they experienced about seven years since at Damascus, under Yousef Pasha, when they were suddenly reduced to their former abject state. Twenty years ago, a Copt of Egypt was in much the same situation as a Jew is now in Barbary; but at present, when the free-thinking, though certainly not liberal, Mohammed Aly finds it his interest to conciliate the Christians, a Greek beats a Turk without much fear of consequences from the mob; and I know an instance of an Armenian having murdered his own Muselman servant, and escaped punishment, on paying a fine to government, although the fact was publicly known. Convinced as the Turks must now be, in many parts of the East, of the superiority of these Europeans, whom they cannot but consider as the brethren of their Christian subjects, their behaviour towards the latter will, nevertheless, be strictly regulated by the avowed sentiments of their governors; and it would be as easy for Mohammed Aly by a single word to degrade the Christians in Egypt, as he found it to raise them to their present consideration, superior, I believe, to what they enjoy in any other part of Turkey. The hatred against Christians is nearly equal in every part of the Ottoman empire; and if the Moslims sacrifice that feeling, it is not to the principles of charity or humanity, but to the frown of those who happen to be in power; and their baseness is such, that they will kiss [p.207] to-day the hands of him whom they have trodden under foot yesterday. In examining into the fanatical riots, many of which are recorded in the chanceries of the European consuls in the Levant, it will generally be found that government had a share in the affrays, and easily succeeded in quelling them. The late Sultan Selim, in his regenerating system, which led him to favour the Christians, found no opposition from the mass of his people, but from the jealous Janissaries; and when the latter had prevailed, the demi-Gallicized grandees of Constantinople easily sunk again into Sunnys. Sometimes, indeed, a rash devotee, or mad Sheikh or Dervish at the head of a few partisans, affords an exception to these general statements; and will insult a Christian placed in the highest favour with the public authorities, as happened at Damascus in 1811, to the Greek Patriarch, after Yousef Pasha had been repulsed: but his countrymen, although cherishing the same principles, and full of the same uncharitableness, seldom have the courage to give vent to their feelings, and to follow the example of the Saint. None of those genuine popular commotions, which were once so frequent in Europe, when the members of the reigning church saw individuals of a rival persuasion extending their influence, are now witnessed in the East. Whatever may be thought of it in a moral point of view, we must respect the energy of a man who enters headlong into a contention, of at least uncertain issue, and generally detrimental to his own worldly interests, merely because he fancies or believes that his religious duty commands his exertions. The Moslim of the Turkish empire, as far as I have had an opportunity of remarking, easily suppresses his feelings, his passions, the dictates of his conscience, and what he supposes agreeable to the will of the Almighty, at the dictates of his interest, or according to the wish or example of the ruling power. In the time of the Sherif, Christians were often ill treated at Djidda; they could not wear the European dress, or approach the quarter of the town situated towards the gate of Mekka. But since the arrival of Mohammed Aly�s army, they walk about, and dress as they like. In December 1814, when two Englishmen passed the gate of Mekka on a walk round the town, (the first persons, probably, in a [p.208] European dress, who had ever passed the holy boundary,) a woman was heard to exclaim, �Truly the world must be near its end, if Kafirs (or infidels) dare to tread upon this ground!� Even now, if a Christian dies there, it is not permitted that he should be interred on shore; the body is carried to a small desert island in the harbour. When, in 1815, the plague raged in the Hedjaz, an event which had never before been known, the Kadhy of Djidda, with the whole body of olemas, waited upon the Turkish governor of the city, to desire him to demolish a windmill which some Greek Christians from Cairo had built withoutside one of the gates, by order of Mohammed Aly. They were certain, they said, that the hand of God had visited them on account of this violation of the sacred territory by Christians. Some years ago an English ship was wrecked near Djidda, and among various spoils obtained from the wreck by Sherif Ghaleb was a large hog, an animal probably never before seen at Djidda: this hog, turned loose in the town with two ostriches, became the terror of all the sellers of bread and vegetables; for the mere touching of so unclean an animal as the hog, even with the edge of the gown, renders the Moslim impure, and unable to perform his prayers without previous ablution. The animal was kept for six months, when it was offered by the Sherif to an American captain for fifty dollars; but such a price being of course refused, it soon after died of a surfeit, to the great satisfaction of the inhabitants. The Mekkawys, however, tolerate within their walls notorious heretics. I have already mentioned the Ismaylys, an idolatrous sect from India, who appear here in the garb of Moslims. The Persian hadjys, well known as sectaries of Aly, and revilers of Mohammed and his immediate followers, are not subjected to any particular inconveniences. The Sherif tolerated them, but levied a capitation-tax on each. The Sherifs, however, themselves, as I shall presently explain, are mostly of the sect of Zyoud, Muselmans who dispute with the orthodox Sunnyes (the great opponents of the Persian sectaries,) several of their principal dogmas. Whenever the word Christian or European is mentioned by the [p.209] Mekkawys, it is coupled with the most opprobrious and contemptuous epithets. They include them all in the appellation of Káfer, without having any clear ideas of the different nations of which they are composed. The English, however, being more in contact with them, from their Indian possessions, are often called exclusively �El Kafer,� or �the Infidels;� and whenever this appellation is so used, the English are to be understood. Thus, they say �El Kafer fy�l Hind,� the Kafer in India; or �Merkeb el Kafer fy Djidda,� the Kafer�s ship at Djidda, always meaning the English. When the French invaded Egypt, a Moggrebyn saint at Mekka, called Sheikh el Djeylany, a distant relation of a wealthy merchant at Mekka, and who had for some time been in the habit of delivering lectures in the great mosque, mounted the pulpit, and preached a crusade against the infidels, who had seized upon the gate of the Kaaba, as Egypt is styled. Being a very eloquent speaker, and held in much veneration, many Arabs flocked to his standard, others gave him money; and it is said that even many women brought him their gold and silver trinkets, to assist him in his holy enterprise. He embarked at Djidda with his zealous followers, on board a small fleet, and landed at Cosseir. The governments of Mekka and Djidda seem to have had little share in the enterprise, though they threw no obstacles in its way. The fate of these Arabs (many of whom were of the same Wahaby tribes who afterwards offered so much resistance to Mohammed Aly), and the fury with which they encountered the French in Upper Egypt, are already known to the reader by Denon�s animated description. Sheikh Djeylany was killed, and very few of his followers returned. I believe their number is rather over-rated by Denon; for I never heard it stated at more than fifteen hundred. The Mekkawys, like the inhabitants of Turkey, are in general free from the vices of pilfering and thieving; and robberies are seldom heard of, although, during the Hadj, and in the months which precede and follow it, Mekka abounds with rogues, who are tempted by the facility of opening the locks of this country. Formerly the slaves of the Sherif were noted for their disorderly behaviour; Ghaleb, however, established good order among them; and [p.210] during his reign, a burglary was never committed without the discovery and punishment of the perpetrator. The streets of Mekka abound with beggars and poor hadjys, who are supported by the charity of strangers; for the Mekkawys think themselves privileged to dispense with this duty. Of them, however, many adopt mendicity as a profession, especially during the Hadj, when the pilgrims are bound to exercise that virtue which is so particularly enjoined by the precepts of Mohammed. The greater part of the beggars are Indians, others Syrians, Moggrebyns, and Egyptians: the Negroes are but few, as these generally prefer labour to begging; but a large proportion comes from Yemen. It is generally said in the East, that Mekka is the paradise of beggars: some perhaps may save a little money, but the wretched aspect of others plainly shows how much their expectations must have been disappointed. The Indians are the most modest among them; they accost the passenger with the words �Ya allah�ya kerim!� �O God, O bounteous God!� and if alms are refused, they walk away, without a word except the repetition of �Ya allah, ya kerim.� Not so the Yemeny or Mekkawy; �Think of your duty as a pilgrim,� he cries; �God does not like the cold-hearted; will you reject the blessings of the faithful? Give, and it shall be given unto thee; and with these and many other pious sentences they address the passenger, and when they have the alms safe in their hand, they often say, as my delyl did, �It is God, and not you, who gives it to me.� Some of these beggars are extremely importunate, and seem to ask for alms as if they were legally entitled to it. While I was at Djidda, a Yemen beggar mounted the minaret daily, after mid-day prayer, and exclaimed loud enough to be heard through the whole bazar, �I ask from God fifty dollars, a suit of clothes, and a copy of the Koran; O faithful, hear me, I ask of you fifty dollars,� &c. &c. This he repeated for several weeks, when at last a Turkish pilgrim, struck by the singularity of the beggar�s appeal, desired him to take thirty dollars, and discontinue his cries, which reflected shame upon the charity of all the hadjys present. �No,� said the beggar, �I will not take them, because I am convinced that God will send me the whole of what I beg of him so earnestly.� After repeating his public [p.211] supplication for some days more, the same hadjy gave him the whole sum that he asked for; but without being thanked. I have heard people exclaim in the mosques at Mekka, immediately after prayers, �O brethren, O faithful, hear me! I ask twenty dollars from God, to pay for my passage home; twenty dollars only. You know that God is all- bountiful, and may send me a hundred dollars; but it is twenty dollars only that I ask. Remember that charity is the sure road to paradise.� There can be no doubt that this practice is sometimes attended with success. But learning and science cannot be expected to flourish in a place where every mind is occupied in the search of gain, or of paradise; and I think I have sufficient reason for affirming that Mekka is at present much inferior even in Mohammedan learning to any town of equal population in Syria or Egypt. It probably was not so when the many public schools or Medreses were built, which are now converted into private lodgings for pilgrims. El Fasy says, that in his time there were eleven medreses in Mekka, besides a number of rebats, or less richly endowed schools, which contained also lodgings for poor hadjys; many of the Rebats in the vicinity of the mosque still remain, but are used only as lodging-houses. There is not a single public school in the town where lectures are given, as in other parts of Turkey; and the great mosque is the only place where teachers of Eastern learning are found. The schools in which boys are taught to read and write, are, as I have already mentioned, held in the mosque, where, after prayers, chiefly in the afternoon, some learned olemas explain a few religious books to a very thin audience, consisting principally of Indians, Malays, Negroes, and a few natives of Hadramaut and Yemen, who, attracted by the great name of Mekka, remain here a few years, until they think themselves sufficiently instructed to pass at home for learned men. The Mekkawys themselves, who wish to improve in science, go to Damascus or to Cairo. At the latter many of them are constantly found, studying in the mosque El Azhar. The lectures delivered in the mosque at Mekka resemble those of other Eastern towns. They are delivered gratis; each lecture occupies one hour or two; and any person may lecture who thinks himself competent [p.212] to the task, whether he belongs to the mosque or not. This happens also in the Azhar at Cairo, where I have seen more than forty different persons occupied at the same time in delivering their lectures. The subjects of the lectures in the Beitullah of Mokka, are, as usual, dissertations on the law, commentaries on the Koran, and traditions of the Prophet. There were none, during my residence, on grammar, logic, rhetoric, or the sciences, nor even on the Towhyd, or explanation of the essence or unity of God, which forms a principal branch of the learning of Moslim divines. I understood, however, that sometimes the Arabic syntax is explained, and the Elfye Ibn Malek on grammar. But the Mekkawys who have acquired an intimate knowledge of the whole structure of their language, owe it to their residence at Cairo. There is no public library attached to the mosque; the ancient libraries, of which I have already spoken, have all disappeared. The Nayb el Haram has a small collection of books which belonged originally to the mosque; but it is now considered as his private property, and the books cannot be hired without difficulty. The Azhar at Cairo is on a very different footing. To each of the Rowak, or private establishments for the different Mohammedan nations, which it contains, (and which are now twenty-six in number,) a large library is annexed, and all the members of the Rowak are at liberty to take books from it to assist them in their studies. Mekka is equally destitute of private libraries, with the exception of those of the rich merchants, who exhibit a few books to distinguish them from the vulgar; or of the olemas, of whom some possess such as are necessary for their daily reference in matters of law. The Wahabys, according to report, carried off many loads of books; but they were also said to have paid for every thing they took: it is not likely that they carried away all the libraries of Mekka, and I endeavoured in vain to discover even a single collection of books. Not a book-shop or a book-binder is found in Mekka. After the return of the Hadj from Arafat, a few of the poorer olemas expose some books for sale in the mosque, near Bab-es�-Salam: all those which I saw were on the law, korans with commentaries, and similar works, together with a few on grammar. No work on history, or on any other branch [p.213] of knowledge, could be found; and, notwithstanding all my pains, I could never obtain a sight of any history of Mekka, although the names of the authors were not unknown to the Mekkawys. They told me that book- dealers used formerly to come here with the Hadj from Yemen, and sell valuable books, brought principally from Szanaa and Loheya. The only good work I saw at Mekka was a fine copy of the Arabic Dictionary called Kamous; it was purchased by a Malay for six hundred and twenty piastres; at Cairo it might be worth half that sum. Many pilgrims inquired for books, and were inclined to pay good prices for them; and it was matter of surprise to me that the speculating Mekkawys did not avail themselves of this branch of trade, not so lucrative certainly as that of coffee and India goods. I much regretted my total want of books, and especially the copies of the historians of Mekka, which I had left at Cairo; they would have led me to many inquiries on topography, which by Azraky in particular is treated with great industry. The Persian hadjys and the Malays are those who chiefly search for books: the Wahabys, it is said, were particularly inquisitive after historical works; a remark I heard repeated at Medina. During my stay at Damascus, which is the richest book-market in the East, and the cheapest, from being very little frequented by Europeans, I heard that several Arabs of Baghdad, secretly commissioned for that purpose by Saoud, the Wahaby chief, had purchased there many historical works. When Abou Nokta plundered the harbours of Yemen, he carried off a great number of books, and sent them to Derayeh. The scarcity of valuable books at Mekka may, perhaps, be ascribed to the continual purchases made by pilgrims; for there are no copyists at Mekka to replace the books which have been exported. [At Cairo, I saw many books in the Hedjaz character, some of which I purchased.] The want of copyists is, indeed, a general complaint also in Syria and Egypt, and must, in the end, lead to a total deficiency of books in those countries, if the exportation to Europe continues. There are at Cairo, at this time, not more than three professed copyists, who write a good hand, or who possess sufficient knowledge to enable them to avoid the grossest [p.214] errors. At Mekka, there was a man of Lahor, who wrote Arabic most beautifully, though he spoke it very indifferently. He sat in a shop near Bab-es�-Salam, and copied for the hadjys such prayers as it was necessary to recite during the pilgrimage. The hand-writing of the Hedjaz is different from that used in Egypt or Syria; but a little practice makes it easily read. In general, not only every country, but every province, even, of the East, has its peculiar mode of writing, which practice alone can enable one to distinguish. There are shades of difference in the writing of the Aleppines, of the people of Damascus, and of Acre; and, in Egypt, the writing of a Cahirein is easily distinguished from that of a native of Upper Egypt. That of the Moslims is different every where from that of the Christians, who are taught to write by their priests, and not by Turkish schoolmasters. The Copts of Egypt have also a character differing from that of the other Christians established in the country. An experienced person knows, from the address of a letter, the province and the race to which the writer belongs. The dialects, and the style of letter-writing are not less distinguishable than the hand-writing; and this remark is particularly applicable to the complimentary expressions with which the letters always abound. The style of Syria is the most flowery; yet even in letters of mere business we find it used. That of Egypt is less complimentary; that of the Hedjaz is simple and manly, and approaches to Bedouin frankness, containing, before the immediate purport of the letter, only a few words of inquiry after the health and welfare of the person addressed. Each country has also its peculiar manner of folding a letter. In the Hedjaz, letters are sealed with gum-Aabic; and a small vessel full of the diluted gum is suspended near the gate of every large house or khan. Whatever may be the indifference of the Mekkawys for learning, [I may mention, as a strong proof of the neglect of learning at Mekka, that of a dozen persons, respectable from their situations in life, of whom I inquired respecting the place Okath, not one of them knew where it was, or if it still existed. The Okath was the place where the ancient Arabian poets, as late even as the time of Mohammed, used to recite their works to crowds assembled there at a great fair. The prize poems were afterwards suspended at the Kaaba. It is to this custom that we owe the celebrated poems called the Seba Moallakat. A Bedouin of Hodheyl told me that the Okath was now a ruined place in the country of Beni Naszera, between two and three days� journey south of Tayf. But in El Fasy�s history, I find it stated to be one day�s journey from Tayf; and that it ceased to be frequented as a fair in A.H. 1229. El Azraky says that it was at that distance from Tayf, on the road to Szanaa in Yemen, and belonged to the tribe of Beni Kanane.] [p.215] the language of their city is still more pure and elegant, both in phraseology and pronunciation, than that of any other town where Arabic is spoken. It approaches more nearly than any other dialect to the old written Arabic, and is free from those affectations and perversions of the original sense, which abound in other provinces. I do not consider the Arabic language as on the decline: it is true, there are no longer any poets who write like Motanebbi, Abol� Ola, or Ibn el Faredh; and a fine flowing prose the Arabs never possessed. The modern poets content themselves with imitating their ancient masters, humbly borrowing the sublime metaphors and exalted sentiments produced from nobler and freer breasts than those of the olemas of the present day. But even now, the language is deeply studied by all the learned men; it is the only science with which the orthodox Moslim can beguile his leisure hours, after he has explored the labyrinth of the law; and every where in the East it is thought an indispensable requisite of a good education, not only to write the language with purity, but to have read and studied the classic poets, and to know their finest passages by heart. The admiration with which Arabic scholars regard their best writers, is the same as that esteem in which Europeans hold their own classics. The far greater part of the Eastern population, it is true, neither write nor read; but of those who have been instructed in letters, a much larger proportion write elegantly, and are well read in the native authors, than among the same class in Europe. The Mekkawys study little besides the language and the law. Some boys learn at least as much Turkish as will enable them to cheat the Osmanly pilgrims to whom their knowledge of that tongue may recommend them as guides. The astronomer of the mosque learns to know the exact time of the Sun�s passing the meridian, and occupies himself occasionally with astrology and horoscopes. A Persian doctor, the only avowed medical professor I saw at Mekka, deals in nothing [p.216] but miraculous balsams and infallible elixirs; his potions are all sweet and agreeable; and the musk and aloe-wood which he burns, diffuse through his shop a delicious odour, which has contributed to establish his reputation. Music, in general so passionately loved among the Arabs, is less practised at Mekka than in Syria and Egypt. Of instruments they possess only the rababa, (a kind of guitar,) the nay, (a species of clarinet,) and the tambour, or tambourine. Few songs are heard in the evenings, except among the Bedouins in the skirts of the town. The choral song called Djok, is sometimes sung by the young men at night in the coffee-houses, its measure being accompanied with the clapping of hands. In general, the voices of the Hedjazys are harsh, and not clear: I heard none of those sonorous and harmonious voices which are so remarkable in Egypt, and still more in Syria, whether giving utterance to love songs, or chanting the praises of Mohammed from the minarets, which in the depth of night has a peculiarly grand effect. Even the Imams of the mosque, and those who chant the anthems, in repeating the last words of the introductory prayers of the Imam, men who in other places are chosen for their fine voices, can here be distinguished only by their hoarseness and dissonance. The Sherif has a band of martial music, similar to that kept by Pashas, composed of kettle-drums, trumpets, fifes, &c.: it plays twice a day before his door, and for about an hour on every evening of the new moon. Weddings are attended by professional females, who sing and dance: they have, it is said, good voices, and are not of that dissolute class to which the public singers and dancers belong in Syria and Egypt. The Mekkawys say, that before the Wahaby invasion, singers might be heard during the evening in every street, but that the austerity of the Wahabys, who, though passionately fond of their own Bedouin songs, disapproved of the public singing of females, occasioned the ruin of all musical pursuits:--this, however, may be only an idle notion, to be ranked with that which is as prevalent in the East as it is in Europe, that old times were always better in every respect than the present. [p.217] The sakas or water-carriers of Mekka, many of whom are foreigners, having a song which is very affecting from its simplicity and the purpose for which it is used, the wealthier pilgrims frequently purchase the whole contents of a saka�s water-skin, on quitting the mosque, especially at night, and order him to distribute it gratis among the poor. While pouring out the water into the wooden bowls, with which every beggar is provided, they exclaim �Sebyl Allah, ya atshan, Sebyl!� �hasten, O thirsty, to the ways of God!� and then break out in the following short song of three notes only, which I never heard without emotion. Ed-djene wa el moy fezata ly Saheb es-sabyl �Paradise and forgiveness be the lot of him who gave you this water!� I cannot describe the marriage-feasts as celebrated at Mekka, not having attended any; but I have seen the bride carried to the house of her husband, accompanied by all her female friends. No canopy is used on this occasion, as in Egypt, nor any music; but rich clothes and furniture are displayed, and the feasting is sumptuous, and often lasts for three or four days. On settling a marriage, the money to be paid for the bride is carried in procession from the house of the bridegroom to that of the girl�s father; it is borne through the streets upon two tabourets, wrapped up in a rich handkerchief, and covered again with an embroidered satin stuff. Before the two persons who hold these tabourets, two others walk, with a flask of rose-water in one hand, and a censer in the other, upon which all sorts of perfumes and odours are burning. Behind them follow, in a long train, all the kindred and friends of the bridegroom, dressed in their best clothes. The price paid for virgins among the respectable classes, varies at Mekka from forty to three hundred dollars, and from ten to twenty dollars among the poor classes. Half the sum only is usually paid down; the other half is left in possession of the husband, who pays it in case he should divorce his wife. [p.218] The circumcision feasts are similar to those at Cairo: the child, after the operation, is dressed in the richest stuffs, set upon a fine horse highly adorned, and is thus carried in procession through the town with drums beating before him. Funerals differ in nothing from those in Egypt and Syria. The people of Mekka, in general, have very few horses; I believe that there are not more than sixty kept by private individuals. The Sherif has about twenty or thirty in his stables; but Sherif Ghaleb had a larger stud. The military Sherifs keep mares, but the greater part of these were absent with the army. The Bedouins, who are settled in the suburb Moabede, and in some other parts of the town, as being concerned with public affairs, have also their horses; but none of the merchants or other classes keep any. They are afraid of being deprived by the Sherif of any fine animal they might possess, and therefore content themselves with mules or gedishes (geldings of a low breed). Asses are very common, but no person of quality ever rides upon them. The few horses kept at Mekka are of noble breed, and purchased from the Bedouins: in the spring they are usually sent to some Bedouin encampment, to feed upon the fine nutritious herbage of the Desert. Sherif Yahya has a gray mare, from the stud of Ghaleb, which was valued at twenty purses; she was as beautiful a creature as I ever saw, and the only one perfectly fine that I met with in the Hedjaz. The Bedouins of that country, and those especially around Mekka, are very poor in horses; a few Sheikhs only having any, pasture being scarce, and the expense of a horse�s keep being three piastres a day. In the Eastern plain, behind Tayf, horses are more numerous, although much less so than in Nedjed and the deserts of Syria, in consequence of the comparative scarcity of corn, and the uncertainty of the rain; a deficiency of which often leaves the Bedouin a whole year without vegetation; a circumstance that rarely happens in the more northern deserts, where the rains seldom fail in the proper seasons. [p.219] GOVERNMENT OF MEKKA. The territories of Mekka, Tayf, Gonfade, (which stretches southwards as far as Haly, on the coast,) and of Yembo, were, previous to the Wahaby and Egyptian conquests, under the command of the Sherif of Mekka, who had extended his authority over Djidda also, though this town was nominally separated from his dominions, and governed by a Pasha, sent thither by the Porte, to be sole master of the town, and to divide its revenue with the Sherif. The Sherif, raised to his station by force or by personal influence, and the consent of the powerful Sherif families of Mekka, held his authority from the Grand Signor, who invariably confirmed the individual that had possessed himself of it. [The government of the Hedjaz has often been a subject of dispute between the Khalifes of Baghdad, the Sultans of Egypt, and the Imams of Yemen. The honour attached, even to a nominal authority over the holy cities, was the only object they had in view, although that authority, instead of increasing their income, obliged them to incur great expenses. The right of clothing the Kaaba, and of having their name inserted in the Friday�s prayers in the mosque, was the sole benefit they derived. The supremacy of Egypt over Mekka, so firmly established from the beginning of the fifteenth century, was transferred, after the conquest of that country by Selim I., to the Sultans of Constantinople.] He was invested annually with a pelisse, brought from Constantinople by the Kaftandji Bashy; and, in the Turkish ceremonial, he was ranked among the first Pashas of the empire. When the power of the Pashas of Djidda became merely nominal, and the Porte was no longer able to send large armies with the Hadj caravans of the Hedjaz, to secure its command over that country, the Sherifs of Mekka became independent, and disregarded all the orders of the Porte, although [p.220] they still called themselves the servants of the Sultan, received the annual investiture of the pelisse, acknowledged the Kadhi sent from Constantinople, and prayed for the Sultan in the great mosque. Mohammed Aly has restored the authority of the Osmanlys in the Hedjaz, and usurps all the power of the Sherif; allowing to the present Sherif Yahya a merely nominal sway. The Sherif of Mekka was chosen from one of the many tribes of Sherifs, or descendants of the Prophet, who settled in the Hedjaz; these were once numerous, but are now reduced to a few families of Mekka. Till the last century, the right of succession was in the Dwy [Dwy means Ahl, or family.] Barakat, so called after Barakat, the son of Seyd Hassan Adjelan, who succeeded his father in A.H. 829; he belonged to the sherif tribe of Katade, which was originally settled in the valley of Alkamye, forming part of Yembo el Nakhel, and was related, by the female side, to the Beni Hashem, whom they had dispossessed of the government of Mekka in A.H. 600, after the death of the last Hashemy, called Mekether. During the last century, the Dwy Barakat had to sustain many wars with their rival tribes, and finally yielded to the most numerous, that of Dwy Zeyd, to whom the present Sherifs belong, and which, together with all the Ketade, form part of the great tribe of Abou Nema. Most of the Barakat emigrated; many of them settling in the fertile valleys of the Hedjaz, and others in Yemen. Of the Sherifs still existing in and about Mekka, besides the tribes above mentioned, the following five were named to me: Abadele, Ahl Serour, Herazy, Dwy Hamoud, Sowamele. [In addition to these, I find several others mentioned by Asamy, as Dwy Masoud, Dwy Shambar, Dwy el Hareth, Dwy Thokaba, Dwy Djazan, Dwy Baz. It would demand more leisure than I enjoy, to compile a history of Mekka from the above-mentioned sources. D�Ohsson has given an historical notice on the Sherifs of Mekka, in which are several errors. The long pedigrees that must be traced, to acquire a clear notion of the rulers of any part of Arabia, render the history of that country extremely intricate.] The succession to the government of Mekka, like that of the Bedouin Sheikhs, was not hereditary; though it remained in the same tribe as long as the power of that tribe preponderated. After the [p.221] death of a Sherif, his relative, whether son, brother, or cousin, &c. who had the strongest party, or the public voice in his favour, became the successor. There were no ceremonies of installation or oaths of allegiance. The new Sherif received the complimentary visits of the Mekkawys; his band played before the door, which seems to be the sign of royalty here, as it is in the black country; and his name was henceforth inserted in the public prayers. Though a succession seldom took place without some contest, there was little bloodshed in general; and tho[u]gh instances of cruelty sometimes occurred, the principles of honour and good faith which distinguish the wars of the Desert tribes, were generally observed. The rivals submitted, and usually remained in the town, neither attending the levees of their victorious relative, nor dreading his resentment, after peace had once been settled. During the war, the rights of hospitality were held as sacred as they are in the Desert; the dakhyl, or refugee, was always respected: for the blood shed on both sides, atonement was made by fines paid to the relations of the slain, and the same laws of retaliation were observed, which prevail among the Bedouins. There was always a strong party in opposition to the reigning power; but this opposition was evinced more in the protection afforded to individuals persecuted by the chief, than in open attempts against his authority. Wars, however, frequently happened; each party had its adherents among the neighbouring Bedouins; but these were carried on according to the system in Bedouin feuds, and were seldom of long duration. Though such customs might have a tendency to crush the power of the reigning Sherif, they were attended with bad consequences to the community: every individual was obliged to attach himself to one or other of the parties, and to some protector, who treated his adherents with the same tyranny and injustice that he experienced from his superior; laws were little respected; every thing was decided by personal influence. The power of the Sherifs was considerably diminished by Serour, who reigned from 1773 to 1786; but even, in later times, Ghaleb, although possessed of more authority than any of his predecessors, had often to fight with his own relations. This continued prevalence of intestine broils, the wars and contentions [p.222] of the prevailing parties, the vicissitudes of fortune which attended them, and the arts of popularity which the chiefs were obliged to employ, gave to the government of the Hedjaz a character different from that of most of the other governments in the East, and which it retained, in outward appearance, even after Ghaleb had almost succeeded in reigning as a despot. None of that ceremony was observed, which draws a line of distinction between the Eastern sovereigns, or their vicegerents, and the people. The court of the Sherif was small, and almost entirely devoid of pomp. His title is neither Sultan, nor Sultan Sherif, nor �Sire,� as Aly Bey Abbas asserts. �Sydna,� �our Lord,� was the title which his subjects used in conversing with him; or that of �Sádetkum,� or �your Highness,� which is given to all Pashas. The distance between the subject and the chief was not thought so great as to prevent the latter, in cases of need, from representing his griefs personally, and respectfully but boldly demanding redress. The reigning Sherif did not keep a large body of regular troops; but he summoned his partisans among the Sherifs, with their adherents, whenever war was determined upon. These Sherifs he attached to his person by respecting their rank and influence, and they were accustomed to consider him in no other light than as the first among equals. To give a history of the events which have occurred at Mekka since the period at which the Arabian historians conclude, (about the middle, I believe, of the seventeenth century,) would be a work of some labour, as it must be drawn from verbal communications; for nobody, in this country, thinks of committing to paper the events of his own times. The circumstances under which I visited the place would have prevented me from obtaining any very extensive and accurate information on the political state of the country, even if I had had leisure, as such inquiries would have obliged me to mix with people of rank, and those holding offices; a class of society which, for obvious reasons, it was my constant endeavour to shun. The following is the amount of what information I was able to collect concerning the recent history of Mekka. [p.223] 1750. Sherif Mesaad was appointed to the government of Mekka, which he held for twenty years. The power of the Sherifs involved him in frequent wars with them; as he seldom succeeded, their influence remained undiminished. Having betrayed symptoms of enmity towards Aly Beg, then governor of Egypt, the latter sent his favourite slave, Abou Dahab, whom he had made Beg, with a strong body of soldiers, as chief of the Hadj caravan, to Mekka, in order to expel Mesaad; but the Sherif died a few days before his arrival. 1769, or 1770. After Mesaad�s death, Hosseyn, who, although of the same tribe, had been his opponent on every occasion, was raised by his own party to the government, and confirmed therein by the assistance of Abou Dahab. He continued to rule till the year 1773 or 4, when he was slain in a war with Serour, the son of Mesaad. The name of Serour, who reigned thirteen or fourteen years, is still venerated by the Mekkawys: he was the first who humbled the pride and power of the Sherifs, and established rigid justice in the town. Previous to his reign, every Sherif had in his house at Mekka an establishment of thirty or forty armed slaves, servants, and relations, besides having powerful friends among the Bedouins. Ignorant of every occupation but that of arms, they lived upon the cattle which they kept among the Bedouins, and in different parts of the Hedjaz; the surra which they were entitled to receive from the Hadj; and the presents which they exacted from the pilgrims, and from their dependents in the town. Some of them, in addition to these general sources of income, had extorted from former chief Sherifs lucrative sinecures, such as duties on ships, or on certain articles of merchandize; tolls collected at one of the gates of Djidda; the capitation-tax levied upon the Persian pilgrims, &c. &c. Their behaviour in the town was wild and disorderly; the orders of the chief Sherif were disregarded; every one made use of his personal authority to increase his wealth; family quarrels frequently occurred; and, in the time of the Hadj, they often waylaid small parties of pilgrims in their route from Medina or Djidda to Mekka, plundering those who made no defence, and killing those who resisted. After a long struggle, Serour succeeded at length in reducing [p.224] the Sherifs to obedience, chiefly by cultivating the goodwill of the common class of Mekkawys, and of the Bedouins, by his great simplicity of manners, personal frugality, and generosity towards his friends, together with a reputation for excessive bravery and sagacity. He had often made peace with his enemies; but fresh wars as repeatedly broke forth. It is said that he once discovered a conspiracy to murder him in one of his nightly walks round the Kaaba; and that he generously spared the lives of the conspirators, and only banished them. He strengthened the great castle of Mekka; kept a large body of armed slaves and Bedouins constantly in his service, the expenses of which he defrayed by his commercial profits, being an active trader with Yemen; and, finally, he obliged the most powerful Sherif families to expatriate themselves, and seek for refuge in Yemen, while many Sherifs were killed in battle, and others fell by the hands of the executioner. After this, Serour applied himself to re-establish the administration of justice; and numerous acts are related of him, which reflect equal honour upon his love of equity and his sagacity. He drove the Jews from Djidda, where they had acquired considerable riches by their brokerage and fraudulent dealings; protected the pilgrims in their progress through the Hedjaz; and regulated the receipt of customs and taxes, which had previously been levied in a very arbitrary manner. When he died, the whole population of Mekka followed his remains to the grave. He is still considered by the Mekkawys as a kind of saint, and his name is venerated even by the Wahabys. 1785, or 86. After the death of Serour, Abd el Mayn, one of his brothers, succeeded for four or five days, when his younger brother Ghaleb, by his superior skill in intrigue, and by the great popularity which his valour, understanding, and engaging address had acquired for him in the time of Serour, dispossessed Abd el Mayn, and suffered him quietly to retire. During the first years of his reign, Ghaleb was the tool of Serour�s powerful slaves and eunuchs, who were completely masters of the town, and indulged in the same disorderly behaviour, injustice, and oppression which had formerly characterized the Sherifs. Ghaleb, however, soon freed himself from their influence, and acquired at length a firmer authority over the Hedjaz than any of his predecessors [p.225] had possessed, and which he retained till the wars of the Wahabys, and the treachery of Mohammed Aly put an end to his reign. Ghaleb�s government was milder than that of Serour, though far from being so just. Very few individuals were put to death by his orders; but he became avaricious, and culprits were often permitted to purchase their lives by large fines. To accomplish this extortion, he filled his prisons with the refractory; but blood only flowed in his transactions with the Wahabys. During his wars with these invaders, the younger sons of Serour Abdulla ibn Serour, and Seyd ibn Serour, attempted to wrest the government from their uncle, but without success; when reconciled with Ghaleb, they were permitted to return quietly to Mekka, and here they resided when Mohammed Aly arrived. He sent Abdulla to Cairo together with Ghaleb, but was ordered by the Porte to set the former at liberty. Abdulla had been once at Constantinople to obtain the Sultan�s assistance against Ghaleb. The great temerity of Abdulla has gained him more admirers than friends at Mekka; but it seems probable that, should the Turks be again obliged to abandon the Hedjaz, he would replace his brother Yahia, the present chief, who received the appointment from Mohammed Aly in 1813, and whose reputation and influence at Mekka are only suited to this honorary situation. The Pasha having seized the revenues of the government of Mekka, has assigned to the Sherif a monthly allowance of only fifty purses, or about eight hundred pounds, to support both his troops and his household. The latter is nominally the same it was before the Turkish conquest, and consists of a few Sherifs, some Mekkawys, and Abyssinian or black slaves, who are indiscriminately appointed to the several employments about his person, the pompous titles of which are borrowed from the red book of the Turkish court. At Yembo, Tayf, Mekka, and Djidda, Ghaleb kept his vizier, who was called El Hakem at Mekka and Tayf. He had, besides, his khasnadar, or treasurer; his selahdar, or sword-bearer; moherdar, or keeper of the seal; and a few other officers, who, however, were far from keeping up so strict an etiquette, or being persons of as much consequence, as those officers are in the Turkish court. The whole of the private establishment of Ghaleb consisted of fifty or sixty servants and officers, [p.226] and as many slaves and eunuchs. Besides his wives, he kept about two dozen of Abyssinian slaves, and double that number of females to attend upon them and to nurse his children. In his stables were from thirty to forty horses of the best Arabian breed; half a dozen mules, upon which he sometimes rode; and as many dromedaries. I learned from one of his old servants, that an erdeb (about fifteen bushels) was issued daily from the store for the use of the household; this, with perhaps half a hundred weight of butter, and two sheep, formed the principal expenditure of provision. It was partly consumed by the Bedouins, who came to Mekka upon business, and who were in the habit of repairing to the Sherif�s house, to claim his hospitality, just as they would alight at the tent of a Sheikh in an encampment in the Desert. When they departed, their sacks were filled with provisions for the road, such being the Arab custom, and the Sherifs of Mekka having always shown an anxious desire to treat the Bedouins with kindness and liberality. The dress of the Sherif is the same as that of all the heads of Sherif families at Mekka; consisting, usually, of an Indian silk gown, over which is thrown a white abba, of the finest manufacture of El Ahsa, in the Persian Gulf; a Cashmere shawl, for the head; and yellow slippers, or sometimes sandals, for the feet. I saw no Mekkawy Sherifs with green turbans. Such of them as enter into the service of government, or are brought up to arms, and who are called by the Mekkawys exclusively �Sherifs,� generally wear coloured Cashmere shawls; the others, who lead a private life, or are employed in the law and the mosque, tie a small white muslin shawl round their caps. The Sherifs, however, possess one distinguishing mark of dress--a high woollen cap of a green colour, round which they tie the white muslin or the Cashmere shawl; beyond which the cap projects, so as to screen the wearer�s face from the rays of the sun: for its convenience in this respect, it is sometimes used also by elderly persons; but this is far from being a common fashion. When the Sherif rides out, he carries in his hand a short, slender stick, called metrek, such as the Bedouins sometimes use in driving their camels; a horseman, who rides close by him, carries in his hand [p.227] an umbrella or canopy, of Chinese design, adorned with silk tassels, which he holds over the Sherif�s head when the sun incommodes him. This is the only sign of royalty by which the Sherif is distinguished when he appears in public; and even this is not used when he walks in the street. The Wahabys compelled him to lay aside the canopy, and to go on foot to the mosque, alleging as a reason, that it was inconsistent with the requisite humility, to come into the presence of the Kaaba on horseback. But when Ghaleb was in full power al Mekka, he obliged the Pashas who accompanied the pilgrim caravan, to acknowledge his right of precedency on all occasions; and he disseminated throughout the Hedjaz a belief that his rank was superior to that of any officer of the Porte; and that even at Constantinople the Sultan himself ought, in strictness of etiquette, to rise and salute him. I have already mentioned the annual investiture of the Sherif by the Kaftandjy Bashy. According to the ceremonial practised on the arrival of the caravan, the Sherif pays the first visit to the Pasha, or Emir el Hadj. The latter, on returning the visit, receives a horse, richly caparisoned, from the Sherif. After the return of the Hadj from Wady Muna, the Pasha presents him, on the first day, with a similar horse; and they both exchange visits in their tents at Muna. When the caravan is ready to leave Mekka, on its return home, the Sherif visits the Pasha a second time, in his camp outside the town, and is there presented with another horse. The Sherif is supposed to have under his jurisdiction all the Bedouin tribes of the Hedjaz; at least they are named in his own and the Porte�s registers, as the dutiful subjects of the Sultan and of the Sherif. When in the full enjoyment of his power, Ghaleb possessed a considerable influence over these tribes, but without any direct authority. They looked upon the Sherif, with his soldiers and friends, in the same light as one of their own Sheikhs, with his adherents; and all the laws of war current in the Desert, were strictly observed by the Sherif. In his late expeditions against the Wahabys, he was accompanied by six or eight thousand Bedouins, who joined him, as they would have joined another Sheikh, without receiving any regular pay [p.228] for their services, but following their own chiefs, whose interest and attachment Ghaleb purchased by presents. To those who are unacquainted with the politics of the Desert, the government of Mekka will present some singularities; but every thing is easily explained, if the Sherif be considered as a Bedouin chief, whom wealth and power have led to assume arbitrary sway; who has adopted the exterior form of an Osmanly governor, but who strictly adheres to all the ancient usages of his nation. In former times, the heads of the Sherif families at Mekka exercised the same influence as the fathers of families in the Bedouin encampments; the authority of the great chief afterwards prevailed, and the others were obliged to submit; but they still retain, in many cases, the rights of their forefathers. The rest of the Mekkawys were considered by the contending parties, not as their equals, but as settlers under their domination; in the same way as Bedouin tribes fight for villages which pay to them certain assessments, and whose inhabitants are considered to be on a much lower level than themselves. The Mekkawys, however, were not to be dealt with like inhabitants of the towns in the northern provinces of Turkey; they took a part in the feuds of the Sherifs, and shared in the influence and power obtained by their respective patrons. When Serour and Ghaleb successively possessed themselves of a more uncontrolled authority than any of their predecessors had enjoyed, the remaining Sherifs united more closely with the Mekkawys, and, till the most recent period, formed with them a body respectable for its warlike character, as was evinced in frequent quarrels among themselves; and a resistance against the government, when its measures affected their lives, although they were so far reduced as never to revolt when their purses only were assailed. The government of Ghaleb, notwithstanding his pecuniary extortion, was lenient and cautious: he respected the pride of the Mekkawys, and seldom made any attempts against the personal safety or even fortunes of individuals, although they smarted under those regulations which affected them collectively. He permitted his avowed enemies to live peaceably in the bosom of their families, and the people [p.229] to indulge in bloody affrays among themselves, which frequently happened either in consequence of blood-revenge, or the jealousies which the inhabitants of different quarters of the town entertained against each other; sometimes fighting for weeks together, but generally with sticks, lances, and daggers, and not with fire-arms. The Sherifs, or descendants of Mohammed, resident at Mekka and in the neighbourhood, who delight in arms, and are so often engaged in civil broils, have a practice of sending every male child, eight days after its birth, to some tent of the neighbouring Bedouins, where it is brought up with the children of the tent, and educated like a true Bedouin for eight or ten years, or till the boy is able to mount a mare, when his father takes him back to his home. During the whole of the above period, the boy never visits his parents, nor enters the town, except when in his sixth month; his foster-mother then carries him on a short visit to his family, and immediately returns with him to her tribe. The child is, in no instance, left longer than thirty days after his birth in the hands of his mother; and his stay among the Bedouins is sometimes protracted till his thirteenth or fifteenth year. By this means, he becomes familiar with all the perils and vicissitudes of a Bedouin life; his body is inured to fatigue and privation; and he acquires a knowledge of the pure language of the Bedouins, and an influence among them that becomes afterwards of much importance to him. There is no sherif, from the chief down to the poorest among them, who has not been brought up among the Bedouins; and many of them are also married to Bedouin girls. The sons of the reigning Sherif family were usually educated among the tribe of Adouan, celebrated for the prowess and hospitality of its members; but it has been so much reduced by the intestine wars of the Sherifs, in which they always took part, and by the late invasion of Mohammed Aly, that they found it expedient to abandon the territory of the Hedjaz, and seek refuge in the encampments of the tribes of the Eastern plain. Othman el Medhayfe, the famous Wahaby chief, a principal instrument employed by Saoud in the subjugation of the Hedjaz, was himself a Sheikh of Adouan; and Sherif Ghaleb had married his sister. The other Sherifs [p.230] sent their children to the encampments of Hodheyl, Thekyf, Beni Sad, and others; some few to the Koreysh, or Harb. The Bedouins in whose tent a Sherif has been educated, were ever after treated by him with the same respect as his own parents and brethren; he called them respectively, father, mother, brother; and received from them corresponding appellations. Whenever they came to Mekka, they lodged at the house of their pupil, and never left it without receiving presents. During his pupilage, the Sherif gave the name of Erham to the more distant relatives of the Bedouin family, who were also entitled to his friendship and attention; and he considered himself, during his life, as belonging to the encampment in which he had passed his early years: he termed its inhabitants �our people,� or, �our family;� took the liveliest interest in their various fortunes; and, when at leisure, often paid them a visit during the spring months, and sometimes accompanied them in their wanderings and their wars. Sherif Ghaleb always showed himself extremely attentive to his Bedouin foster-parents; whenever they visited him, he used to rise from his seat, and embrace them, though in no way distinguished from any meanly- dressed inhabitant of the Desert. Of course, it often happened that Sherif boys could not easily be induced to acknowledge their real parents at home; and they sometimes escaped, and rejoined the friends of their infancy, the Bedouins in the Desert. The custom which I have just described is very ancient in Arabia. Mohammed was educated among foreigners, in the tribe of Beni Sad; and his example is continually quoted by the Mekkawys, when speaking of the practice still usual among the Sherifs. But they are almost the only people in Arabia by whom it is now followed. The Bedouins called Mowalys, [This tribe is originally from the Hedjaz: it lived in the neighbourhood of Medina, and is often mentioned by the historians of that town, during the first century after Mohammed.] once a potent tribe, but now reduced to a small number, and pasturing their flocks in the vicinity of Aleppo, are the only Arabs among whom I met with any thing similar. With them it is an established [p.231] usage, that the son of the chief of that tribe should be educated in the family of another individual of the same tribe, but generally of a different encampment, until he is sufficiently old to be able to shift for himself. The pupil calls his tutor Morabby, and displays the greatest regard for him during the rest of his life. The Sherifs derive considerable advantages from their Bedouin education; acquiring not only strength and activity of body, but some part of that energy, freedom of manners, and boldness, which characterize the inhabitant of the Desert; together with a greater regard to the virtues of good faith and hospitality, than if they had been brought up in Mekka. I did not see many Sherifs. Of the small number now remaining, some were employed, during my residence at Mekka, either as guides with the army of Mohammed Aly, or were incorporated by him in a small corps of Bedouins, commanded by Sherif Radjeh, one of their most distinguished members; or in the service of Sherif Yahya, who sent them on duty to the advanced posts towards Yemen. Some of them had retired, after Ghaleb was taken, to the Wahabys, or to Yemen, where a few of them still remained. Those whom I had an opportunity of seeing, were distinguished by fine manly countenances, strongly expressive of noble extraction; and they had all the exterior manners of Bedouins; free, bold, frank, warm friends; bitter enemies; seeking for popularity, and endowed with an innate pride, which, in their own estimation, sets them far above the Sultan of Constantinople. I never beheld a handsomer man than Sherif Radjeh, whose heroism I have mentioned in my history of Mohammed Aly�s campaign, and the dignity of whose deportment would make him remarked among thousands; nor can a more spirited and intelligent face be easily imagined, than was that of Sherif Ghaleb. Yahya, the present Sherif, is of a very dark complexion, like that of his father; his mother was a dark brown Abyssinian slave. The Mekkawys give the Sherifs little credit for honesty, and they have constantly shown great versatility of character and conduct; but this could hardly be otherwise, considering the sphere and the times in which they moved: their Bedouin education has certainly [p.232] made them preferable, in many respects, to the common class of Mekkawys. It is a rule among the Sherifs, that the daughters of the reigning chief can never marry; and while their brothers are often playing in the streets with their comrades, from whom they are in no way distinguished, either in dress or dignity of appearance, the unfortunate girls remain shut up in the father�s house. I have seen a son of Sherif Ghaleb, whose father was then in exile at Salonica, play before the door of his house. But I have heard that, when the boys of the reigning Sherif return from the Desert, and are not yet sufficiently grown up to appear with a manly air in public, they are kept within their father�s house or court-yard, and seen only by the inmates of the family, appearing for the first time in public, on horseback, by the side of their father; from which period they are considered to be of age, soon after marry, and take a share in public affairs. The greater part of the Sherifs of Mekka, and those especially of the reigning tribe of Dwy Zeyd, are strongly suspected to be Muselman sectaries, belonging to the Zyoud, or followers of Zeyd, a sect which has numerous proselytes in Yemen, and especially in the mountains about Sada. This, however, the Sherifs do not acknowledge, but comply with the doctrines of the orthodox sect of Shafeys, to which most of the Mekkawys belong; but the Sherifs residing abroad do not deny it; and whenever points of law are discussing upon which the Zyoud are at variance with the Sunnys, the Sherifs always decline taking an active part in the discussion. I believe that the Zeyds are divided into different sects. Those of Yemen and Mekka acknowledge as the founder of their creed El Imam el Hady ill el Hak Yahyn ibn el Hosseyn, who traces his pedigree to Hassan, the son of Aly. He was born at Rass, in the province of Kasym, in A.H. 245, and first rose as a sectary at Sada, in Yemen, in 280. He fought with the Abassides, took Sana, out of which he was driven, afterwards attacked the Karmates, and died of poison at Sada in A.H. 298. Others trace the origin of this sect higher, to Zeyd ibn Aly Zeyn el Aabedyn ibn el Hosseyn ibn Aly ibn Aby Taleb, who was killed at Koufa in A.H. 121, by the party of the Khalif Hesham. The [p.233] Zeydites appear, generally, to entertain a great veneration for Aly; at the same time that they do not, as the Persians, curse Abou Beker and Omar. They entertain notions different from those of the Sunnys respecting the succession of the twelve Imams, but agree, in other respects, much more with them than with the Persians. The Zeydites of Yemen, to whom the Imam of Sana himself belongs, designate their creeds as the fifth of the orthodox Mohammedan creeds, next to the Hanefys, Shafeys, Malekys, and Hanbalys, and for that reason they are called Ahl el Khams Mezaheb. In Yemen they publicly avow their doctrines; at Mekka they conceal them. I heard that one of their principal tenets is, that in praying, whether in the mosque, or at home, no other expressions should be used than those contained in the Koran, or such as are formed from passages of that book. The Mekkawys regard the Zyoud as heretics; and assert that, like Persians, they hold in disrespect the immediate successors of Mohammed. Stories are related of the Zyoud in Yemen writing the name of Mawya over the most unclean part of their houses, to show their contempt of him; but such tenets are not avowed, and the Sherifs agree outwardly in every point with the Sunnys, whatever may be their private opinions. I have already stated that the Kadhy of Mekka is sent annually from Constantinople, according to the usual practice of the Turkish government with respect to the great cities of the empire. This system began with the early emperors, who thought that, by depriving the provincial governors of the administration of justice, and placing it in the hands of a learned man sent periodically from Constantinople, and quite independent of the governors, they might prevent the latter from exercising any undue influence over the courts of law, at the same time that the consequences likely to result from the same judge remaining in office for any length of time were avoided. But manners are very different throughout the empire from what they were three hundred years ago. In every town the Kadhy is now under the immediate influence of the governor, who is left to tyrannize at pleasure, provided he sends his regular subsidies to the Porte. No person can gain a suit at law unless he enjoys credit with the government, or [p.234] gives a bribe to the judge, which the governor shares or connives at, in return for the Kadhy�s compliance with his interests in other cases. The fees of court are enormous, and generally swallow up one fourth of the sum in litigation; while the court is deaf to the clearest right, if not supported by largesses to the Kadhy and the swarm of officers and servants who surround his seat. These disorders are countenanced by the Porte: the office of Kadhy is there publicly sold to the best bidder, with the understanding that he is to remunerate himself by the perquisites of his administration. In those countries where Arabs flock to his court, the Kadhy, who generally knows but little of the Arabic language, is in the hands of his interpreter, whose office is usually permanent, and who instructs every new Kadhy in the modes of bribery current in the place, and takes a full share of the harvest. The barefaced acts of injustice and shameless briberies daily occurring in the Mehkames, or halls of justice, would seem almost incredible to an European, and especially an Englishman. The Kadhy of Mekka has shared the fate of his brother judges in other parts of the empire, and has been for many years so completely under the influence of the Sherif, that all suits were carried directly before his tribunal, and the Kadhy was thus reduced to spend his time in unprofitable leisure. I was informed by the Kadhy himself, that the Grand Signior, in consideration of the trifling emoluments of the situation, had, for some time back, been in the habit of paying to the Kadhy of Mekka one hundred purses per annum out of his treasury. Since the conquest of Mohammed Aly, the Kadhy has recovered his importance, in the same proportion as the influence of the Sherif has been diminished. When I was at Mekka, all law-suits were decided in the Mehkame. Mohammed Aly seldom interposed his authority, as he wished to conciliate the good-will of the Arabs, and the Kadhy himself seems to have received from him very strict orders to act with circumspection; for justice was, at this time, tolerably well administered, at least in comparison with other tribunals; and the inhabitants were not averse to the new order of things. The Kadhy of Mekka appoints to the law-offices of Djidda and Tayf, which are filled [p.235] by Arabs, not Turks. In law-suits of importance, the Muftis of the four orthodox sects have considerable influence on the decision. The income of the Sherif is derived principally from the customs paid at Djidda, which, as I have already mentioned, instead of being, according to the intention of the Turkish government, divided between himself and the Pasha of Djidda, were seized wholly by the late Sherifs, and are now in the hands of Mohammed Aly. The customs of Djidda, properly the same as those levied in every other part of the Turkish empire, were much increased by Ghaleb, which was the principal reason why the whole body of merchants opposes him. He had also engrossed too large a share of the commerce to himself. Eight dows belonging to him were constantly employed in the coffee-trade between Yemen, Djidda, and Egypt; and when the sale of that article was slow, he obliged the merchants to purchase his cargoes for ready money at the market-price, in order to send off the sooner his returns of dollars to Yemen. Two of the largest of his vessels (one an English-built ship of three or four hundred tons, purchased at Bombay,) made a voyage annually to the East Indies, and the cargoes which they brought home were either sold to the Hadj at Mekka, or were divided among the merchants of Djidda, who were forced to purchase them. Besides the port of Djidda, that of Yembo, where the Sherif kept a governor, was subjected to similar duties. He also levied a tax as well upon all cattle and provisions carried from the interior of the country into Djidda, as upon those carried into Mekka, Tayf, and Yembo, except what came with the two great hadj-caravans from the north, which passed every where duty-free. The inhabitants of Mekka and Djidda pay no other taxes than those just mentioned, their houses, persons, and property being free from all other imposts; an advantage which they have never sufficiently acknowledged, though they might have readily drawn a comparison between themselves and their neighbours of Syria and Egypt. The other branches of the Sherif�s revenues were the profits derived from the sale of provisions at Mekka, of which, although he did not monopolize them like Mohammed Aly, yet he had always such a considerable stock on hand, as enabled him to [p.236] influence the daily prices; the capitation-tax on all Persian hadjys, whether coming by land from Baghdad, or by the way of the Red Sea and Yemen; and presents to a considerable amount, either offered to him gratuitously, or extorted from the rich hadjys of all countries. [Formerly, when the Sherifs of Mekka were more powerful, they levied a tribute upon the two great pilgrim-caravans, similar to that exacted by the Bedouins on the road. Abou Nima, in A.H. 654, took from every camel of the Yemen caravan thirty dirhems, and fifty upon every one in the Egyptian caravan.] Of the money sent from Constantinople to the holy city, temple, &c. a large portion was appropriated by the Sherif to his own treasury; and it is said that he regularly shared in all the presents which were made to the mosque. Ghaleb possessed considerable landed property; many of the gardens round Tayf, and of the plantations in the valley of Hosseynye, Wady Fatme, Wady Lymoun, and Wady Medyk, belonged to him. At Djidda he had many houses and caravansaries, which he let out to foreigners; and so far resembled his successor Mohammed Aly, that the most trifling profit became a matter of consideration with him, his attention being constantly directed towards the acquiring of wealth. The annual revenue of Ghaleb, during the plenitude of his power, may have amounted to about three hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling; but, since the occupation of the Hedjaz by the Wahabys, it has probably not exceeded half that sum. As Ghaleb was a merchant and land-owner, and procured all the articles of consumption at the first hand, the maintenance of his household, with his women and slaves, did not, I should imagine, require above twenty thousand pounds sterling per annum. In time of peace the Sherif kept a small permanent force, not exceeding five hundred men, of whom about one hundred were in garrison at Djidda, fifty at Tayf, as many at Yembo, and the rest at Mekka: of this body about eight hundred were cavalry, in addition to his own mounted household. Many of the soldiers were his domestic slaves; but the greater part were Bedouins from different parts of Arabia; those from Yemen, the mountains of Asyr, and Nedjed, being the most numerous. Their pay was from eight to twelve dollars per month; [p.237] and they were commanded by Sherifs, whom they obeyed as Bedouins obey their leader during war, that is to say, that, trained to no regular exercise, they accompanied the Sherif whenever he took a ride out of the town, and on returning fired off their guns, according to the Arabian custom, in leaping wildly about. The arms of the infantry were a matchlock and crooked knife; the horsemen had a lance. When Ghaleb engaged in war, this force was increased by the accession of many Sherifs and their retinues, who received no pay, but occasional presents, and a share in the booty acquired; these wars being generally directed against some Bedouin tribes, whose cattle was the sole object of invasion. Upon these occasions, the Sherif was joined also by other Bedouins, who returned with their Sheikhs to their homes, as soon as the expedition was terminated. On the breaking out of the Wahaby war, and when the Wahabys began to make successful attacks upon the Hedjaz, Ghaleb found it necessary to increase his standing force; he therefore added to it a number of black slaves, thereby augmenting it to eight hundred, following, in this respect, the practice of his predecessors, who always considered their own purchased slaves as the most faithful men under their command; [During the last century, the Sherifs of Mekka constantly kept a small corps of Georgian Mamelouks as their body guard.] he also enlisted additional numbers of Bedouins, and had, during the whole of the contest, generally from two to three thousand men; a number thought fully sufficient to guard his cities. Whenever he planned an attack on the Wahabys, he collected his allies among the Bedouins, and advanced several times towards Nedjed with an united force of ten thousand men. When those allies were obliged, successively, to yield to the invaders, and the southern Bedouins, on whom Ghaleb always principally depended, were conquered by the great exertions and activity of Othman el Medhayfe, Ghaleb found himself alone, with his few troops, unable to prolong the contest, and was soon driven to extremities and obliged to submit, though he still kept a corps of troops in his pay, after Saoud had obtained firm possession of the Hedjaz, and conducted his affairs with such consummate [p.238] skill, as to maintain his authority, and command the respect of the Wahabys. The expenses attending the increased forces of the Sherif during the Wahaby war, were considerable; it was necessary to make donations to the Sherif and the Bedouins, to keep them in his interest; but it happened, for once, that his interests were equally their own; and Bedouins, though never tired of asking for presents, are generally content with small sums. It may hence be easily conceived that Ghaleb never, during any period of his reign, lived up to the amount of his income; and it was a general, and, I believe, well-founded opinion in the Hedjaz, that during the twenty-seven years of his official life, he had amassed a large treasure in money. When Mohammed Aly seized his person, the amount of the whole of his disposable property found at Mekka and Djidda, was calculated at about two hundred thousand or two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling; and it was presumed that he had either secreted his treasure in the castle of Mekka, or sent it to his friends in India, while Mohammed Aly was making preparations for his attack. It is most probable that he employed both modes of secreting his wealth, and thus made another addition to the large sums daily buried in the East, by persons in authority, as well as by private individuals. But such is the bad use to which Eastern rulers apply their riches, that the public prosperity of the country suffers little by the loss. [The prevalence of the practice of concealing riches in Turkey, and the cause of it, will at once appear from the following account of a circumstance which happened in 1813, at Cairo. Mohammed Aly having demanded 15,000 purses from the Copts employed in the finances of Egypt, they divided the sum among themselves; and Moallem Felteos, an old man, who had been in former times a chief financier, was assessed at twelve hundred purses, or about 18,000l. sterling: this he refused to pay, alleging his poverty; but, after long parleys, at last offered to give two hundred purses. The Pasha sent for him, threatened, and, seeing him obstinate, ordered him to be beaten: after receiving five hundred strokes with the stick, and being nearly half dead, be swore that he could pay no more than two hundred purses. Mohammed Aly thought he was telling the truth; but his son, Ibrahim Pasha, who happened to be present, said that he was sure the man had more money. Felteos, therefore, received three hundred additional strokes, after which he confessed that he was possessed of the sum demanded, and promised to pay it. He was then permitted to [p.239] return home; and at the end of a fortnight, being so much recovered from the effects of his beating that he could walk about, commissioners were sent to his house from the Pasha, labourers were called, and Felteos descended with them into the privy of his house, at the bottom of which they removed a large stone which closed up a small passage containing a vaulted niche, where two iron chests were deposited. On opening these, two thousand purses in sequins were found, twelve hundred of which the Pasha took, and left the remainder to the owner, who died three months after, not in consequence of the blows he had received, but of grief for the loss of his money. Had he been able secretly to remove the treasure, he would probably have done so, had not a guard been posted in his house immediately on his promising to pay; the Pasha suspecting that the money was concealed in some secret spot, according to a practice general in the East.] [p.240] CLIMATE AND DISEASES OF MEKKA AND DJIDDA. THE climate of Mekka is sultry and unwholesome; the rocks which enclose its narrow valley, intercept the wind, especially that from the north, and reflect the rays of the sun with redoubled heat. In the months of August, September, and October, the heat is excessive: during my residence at Mekka a suffocating hot wind pervaded the atmosphere for five successive days in September. The rainy season usually begins in December; but the rains are not uninterrupted, as in other tropical countries falling only at intervals of five or six days but then with great violence. Showers are not unfrequent, even in summer: the Mekkawys say that the clouds coming from the sea-side are those which copiously irrigate the ground; while those which come from the East, or the high mountains, produce only mere showers, or gushes. The want of rain is very frequently felt here: I was told that four successive years of copious rains are seldom experienced; which is, probably, the main reason why all the Bedouins in this neighbourhood are poor, the greater part of their cattle dying in years of drought, from want of pasturage. The air of Mekka is generally very dry. Dews begin to fall in the month of January, after a few heavy showers of rain: the contrary is the case at Djidda, where the atmosphere, even during the greatest heat, is damp, arising from the sea vapours, and the numerous marshes on that low coast. The dampness of the air is there so great, that in the month of September, in a hot and perfectly clear day, I found my [p.241] upper gown wet completely through, from being two hours in the open air. There are heavy dews also by night, during that month and in October; thick fogs appeared on the coast, in the evening and morning. During the summer months, the wind blows generally between east and south, seldom veering to the west, but sometimes to the north. In September, the regular northerly winds set in, and continue during the whole winter. In the Hedjaz, as on the sea-coast of Egypt, the north- east wind is more damp than any other; and during its prevalence, the stone pavement in the interior of the houses always appeared as if covered with moisture. The diseases prevalent in both towns are much the same; and the coast of the Hedjaz is perhaps among the most unhealthy countries of the East. Intermittent fevers are extremely common, as are likewise dysenteries, which usually terminate in swellings of the abdomen, and often prove fatal. Few persons pass a whole year without a slight attack of these disorders; and no stranger settles at Mekka or Djidda, without being obliged to submit, during the first months of his residence, to one of these distempers; a fact, of which ample proof was afforded in the Turkish army, under Mohammed Aly Pacha. Inflammatory fevers are less frequent at Djidda than at Mekka; but the former place is often visited with a putrid fever, which, as the inhabitants told me, sometimes appeared to be contagious; fifty persons having been known to die of it in one day. Asamy and Fasy mention frequent epidemical diseases at Mekka: in A.H. 671, a pestilence broke out, which carried off fifty persons a day; and in 749, 793, and 829, others also infected the town: in the latter year two thousand persons died. These authors, however, never mention the plague; nor had it made its appearance in the Hedjaz within the memory of the oldest inhabitants; whence a belief was entertained, that the Almighty protected this holy province from its ravages; but, in the spring of 1815, it broke out with great violence, as I shall mention in another place, and Mekka and Djidda lost, perhaps, one-sixth of their population. Ophthalmia is very little known in the Hedjaz. I saw a single [p.242] instance of leprosy, in a Bedouin at Tayf. The elephantiasis and Guinea-worm are not uncommon, especially the former, of which I have seen many frightful cases. It is said that stone in the bladder is frequent at Mekka, caused, perhaps, by the peculiar quality of the water; to the badness of which many other diseases also may be ascribed in this hot country, where such quantities of it are daily drunk. I heard that the only surgeons who knew how to perform the operation of extracting the stone from the bladder, are Bedouins of the tribe of Beni Sad, who live in the mountains, about thirty miles south of Tayf. In time of peace, some of them repair annually to Mekka, to perform this operation, the knowledge of which they consider as a secret hereditary in some families of their tribe. They are said to use a common razor, and, in general, with success. Sores on the legs, especially on the shin-bone, are extremely common both at Mekka and Djidda; but more so at the latter place, where the dampness of the atmosphere renders their cure much more difficult; indeed, in that damp climate, the smallest scratch, or bite of any insect, if neglected, becomes a sore, and soon after an open wound: nothing is more common than to see persons walking in the streets, having on their legs sores of this kind, which, if neglected, often corrode the bone. As their cure demands patience, and, above all, repose, the lower classes seldom apply the proper remedies in time; and when they have increased to such a state as to render their application indispensably necessary, no good surgeons are to be found; fever ensues, and many of the patients die. I believe that one-fourth of the population of Djidda is constantly afflicted with ulcers on their legs; the bad nature of these sores is further aggravated by the use of seawater for ablutions. During my stay at Mekka, I seldom enjoyed perfect good health. I was twice attacked by fever; and, after the departure of the Syrian Hadj, by a violent diarrh�a, from which I had scarcely recovered when I set out for Medina. In those days, even when I was free from disease, I felt great lassitude, a depression of spirits, and a total want of appetite. During the five days of the Hadj, I was luckily in good [p.243] health, though I was under great apprehensions from the consequences of taking the ihram. My strength was greatly diminished, and it required much effort, whenever I left my room, to walk about. I attributed my illness chiefly to bad water, previous experience having taught me that my constitution is very susceptible of the want of good light water, that prime article of life in eastern countries. Brackish water in the Desert is perhaps salutary to travellers: heated as they are by the journey, and often labouring under obstructions from the quality of their food on the road, it acts as a gentle aperient, and thus supplies the place of medicinal draughts; but the contrary is the case when the same water is used during a continued sedentary residence, when long habit only can accustom the stomach to receive it. Had I found myself in better health and spirits, I should probably have visited some of the neighbouring valleys to the south, or passed a few months among the Bedouins of the Hedjaz; but the worst effect of ill health upon a traveller, is the pusillanimity which accompanies it, and the apprehensions with which it fills the mind, of fatigues and dangers, that, under other circumstances, would be thought undeserving of notice. The current price of provisions at Mekka in December, 1814, was as follows:-- Piastres. Paras. 1 lb. of beef .......................... 2 10 1 lb. of mutton ........................ 20 1 lb. of camel�s flesh ................. 10 1 lb. of butter ........................ 5 1 lb. of fresh unsalted cheese ......... 3 A fowl ................................. 6 An egg ................................. 0 8 1 lb. of milk .......................... 2 1 lb. of vegetables, viz. leek, spinach, turnips, radishes, calabashes, egg- plants, green onions, petrosiles, &c.... 0 30 [p.244] Piastres. Paras. A small, round, flat loaf of bread ..... 0 20 1 lb. of dry biscuits .................. 0 32 1 lb. of raisins from Tayf ............. 1 20 1 lb. of dates ......................... 0 25 1 lb. of sugar (Indian) ................ 2 10 1 lb. of coffee ........................ 2 20 A pomegranate .......................... 0 15 An orange .............................. 0 15 A lemon, (the size of a walnut, the Same species as the Egyptian lemon) 0 10 1 lb. of good Syrian tobacco ........... 6 1 lb. of common tobacco ................ 1 30 1 lb. of tombac, or tobacco for the Persian pipe ........................ 3 1 keyle of wheat ....................... 3 1 do. of flour ......................... 3 20 1 do. of Indian rice ................... 3 1 do. Of lentils from Egypt ............ 2 30 1 do. Of dried locusts ................. 1 A skin of water ........................ 1 20 As much wood as will cook two dishes ... 0 20 A labourer for the day ................. 3 A porter for going in town the distance Of half a mile ...................... 1 Common wages of servants,[FN#1] besides Clothes and food, per month ........ 30 Wages of craftsmen, as smiths, carpen- ters, &c. per day, besides food ..........5 N.B. The Spanish dollar was worth from nine to twelve piastres during my residence at Mekka, changing its value almost daily. [p.245] One piastre equal to forty paras or diwanys, as they are called in the Hedjaz. The pound, or rotolo, of Mekka, has a hundred and forty- four drams. The Egyptian erdeb, equivalent to about fifteen English bushels, is divided here into fifty keyles or measures. At Medina the erdeb is divided into ninety-six keyles. The pound of Djidda is nearly double that of Mekka. [The Mekkawys have only slaves; but many Egyptians are ready to enter into the service of hadjys. The most common servants in the families of Mekka are the younger sons or some poor relations.] [p.246] THE HADJ, OR PILGRIMAGE. THE time has passed (and, probably for ever,) when hadjys or pilgrims, from all regions of the Muselman world, came every year in multitudes, that they might visit devotionally the sacred places of the Hedjaz. An increasing indifference to their religion, and an increase of expense attending the journey, now deter the greater part of the Mohammedans from complying with that law of the Koran, which enjoins to every Moslim who can afford it, the performance of a pilgrimage to Mekka, once at least in his life. To those whom indispensable occupations confine to their homes, the law permits a substitution of prayers; but even with this injunction few people now comply, or it is evaded by giving a few dollars to some hadjy, who, taking from several persons commissions of the same kind, includes all their names in the addition consequently made to the prayers recited by him at the places of holy visit. When Muselman zeal was more ardent, the difficulties of the journey being held to increase the merit of it, became with many an additional incitement to join the caravans, and to perform the whole journey by land; but at present, most of the pilgrims do not join any regular Hadj caravan, but reach Djidda by sea from Egypt, or the Persian Gulf; commercial and lucrative speculations being the chief inducements to this journey. In 1814, many hadjys had arrived at Mekka, three or four months previous to the prescribed time of the pilgrimage. To pass the Ramadhan in this holy city, is a great inducement with such as can afford the expense, to hasten their arrival, and prolong their residence in it. [p.247] About the time when the regular caravans were expected, at least four thousand pilgrims from Turkey, who had come by sea, were already assembled at Mekka, and perhaps half that number from other distant quarters of the Mohammedan world. Of the five or six regular caravans which, formerly, always arrived at Mekka a few days before the Hadj, two only made their appearance this year; these were from Syria and Egypt; the latter composed entirely of people belonging to the retinue of the commander of the Hadj, and his troops; no pilgrims having come by land from Cairo, though the road was safe. The Syrian caravan has always been the strongest, since the time when the Khalifes, in person, accompanied the pilgrims from Baghdad. It. sets out from Constantinople, and collects the pilgrims of Northern Asia in its passage through Anatolia and Syria, until it reaches Damascus, where it remains for several weeks. During the whole of the route from Constantinople to Damascus, every care is taken for the safety and convenience of the caravan; it is accompanied from town to town by the armed forces of the governors; at every station caravansaries and public fountains have been constructed by former Sultans, to accommodate it on its passage, which is attended so far with continual festivities and rejoicings. At Damascus, it is necessary to prepare for a journey of thirty days, across the Desert to Medina; and the camels which had transported it thus far, must be changed, the Anatolian camel not being able to bear the fatigues of such a journey. Almost every town in the eastern part of Syria furnishes its beasts for the purpose; and the great Bedouin Sheikhs of the frontiers of that country contract largely for camels with the government of Damascus. Their number must be supposed very great, even if the caravan be but thinly attended, when it is considered that besides those carrying water and provisions for the hadjys and soldiers, their horses, and the spare camels brought to supply such as may fail on the road, daily food for the camels themselves must be similarly transported; as well as provisions, which are deposited in castles on the Hadj route, to form a supply for the return. The Bedouins take good care that the camels shall not be overloaded, that the numbers wanted may thus be increased. In 1814, though the caravan consisted of not more than [p.248] four or five thousand persons, including soldiers and servants, it had fifteen thousand camels. [El Fasy relates that, when the mother of Motasem b�Illah, the last of the Abassides, performed the pilgrimage in A.H. 631, her caravan was composed of one hundred and twenty thousand camels. When Solyman Ibn Abd el Melek performed the pilgrimage in A.H. 97, nine hundred camels were employed in the transport of his wardrobe only. It is observable that none of the Othman Emperors of Constantinople ever performed the pilgrimage in person. The Khalife El Mohdy Abou Abdallah Mohammed expended on his pilgrimage in A.H. 160, thirty millions of dirhems. He carried with him an immense number of gowns to distribute as presents. He built fine houses at every station from Baghdad to Mekka, and caused them to be splendidly furnished; he also erected mile-stones along the whole route, and was the first Khalife who carried snow with him, to cool sherbet on the road, in which he was imitated by many of his successors. Haroun el Rasheid, who performed the pilgrimage nine times, spent, in one of his visits, one million and fifty thousand dynars in presents to the Mekkawys and the poor hadjys. El Melek Nasir eddyn Abou el Maaly, Sultan of Egypt, carried with him, on his pilgrimage in A.H. 719, five hundred camels, for the transport of sweetmeats and confectionary only; and two hundred and eighty for pomegranates, almonds, and other fruits: in his travelling larder were one thousand geese, and three thousand fowls. Vide Makrisi�s Treatise Man Hadj myn el Kholafa.] The Syrian caravan is very well regulated, though, as in all matters of oriental government, the abuses and exceptions are numerous. The Pasha of Damascus, or one of his principal officers, always accompanies this caravan, and gives the signal for encamping and starting, by firing a musket. On the route, a troop of horsemen ride in front, and another in the rear, to bring up the stragglers. The different parties of hadjys, distinguished by their provinces or towns, keep close together ; and each knows its never-varying station in the caravan, which is determined by the geographical proximity of the place from whence it comes. When they encamp, the same order is constantly observed; thus the people from Aleppo always encamp close by those of Homs, &c. This regulation is very necessary to prevent disorder in night-marches. [In our author�s Syrian Travels, (p. 242.) the reader will find some further remarks on this Hadj-caravan, and in the Appendix to that volume (No. 3.) an account of the route between Damascus and Mekka.--ED.] The hadjys usually contract for the journey with a Mekowem, one who speculates in the furnishing of camels and provisions to the Hadj. [p.249] From twenty to thirty pilgrims are under the care of the same Mekowem, who has his tents and servants, and saves the hadjys from all fatigue and trouble on the road: their tent, coffee, water, breakfast, and dinner are prepared for them, and they need not take the slightest trouble about packing and loading. If a camel should die, the Mekowem must find another; and, however great may be the want of provisions on the road, he must furnish his passengers with their daily meals. In 1814, the hire of one Mekowem, and the boarding at his table, was one hundred and fifty dollars from Damascus to Medina, and fifty dollars more from Medina to Mekka. Out of these two hundred dollars, sixty were given by the Mekowem to a man who led the camel by the halter during the night-marches; a precaution necessary in so great a caravan, when the rider usually sleeps, and the animal might otherwise easily wander from the path. In addition to the stipulated hire, the Mekowem always receives some presents from his pilgrims. On the return to Syria, the sum is something less, as many camels then go unloaded. Few travellers choose to perform the journey at their own risk, or upon their own camels; for if they are not particularly protected by the soldiery, or the chief of the caravan, they find it difficult to escape the ill-treatment of the Mekowem at watering-places, as well as on the march; the latter endeavouring to check, by every means in their power, the practice of traveling independent of them, so that it is rarely done except by rich hadjys, who have the means of forming a party of their own amounting to forty or fifty individuals. At night, torches are lighted, and the daily distance is usually performed between three o�clock in the afternoon, and an hour or two after sun-rise on the following day. The Bedouins who carry provisions for the troops, travel by day only, and in advance of the caravan, the encampment of which they pass in the morning, and are overtaken in turn, and passed by the caravan on the following night, at their own resting- place. The journey with these Bedouins is less fatiguing than with the great body of the caravan, as a regular night�s rest is obtained; but their bad character deters most pilgrims from joining them. [p.250] At every watering-place on the route are a small castle and a large tank, at which the camels water. The castles are garrisoned by a few persons, who remain during the whole year to guard the provisions deposited there. It is at these watering-places, which belong to the Bedouins, that the Sheikhs of the tribes meet the caravan, and receive the accustomed tribute. Water is plentiful on the route: the stations are no where more distant than eleven or twelve hours� march; and in winter, pools of rain-water are frequently found. Those pilgrims who can travel with a litter, or on commodious camel-saddles, may sleep at night, and perform the journey with little inconvenience; but of those whom poverty, or the desire of soon acquiring a large sum of money, induces to follow the caravan on foot, or to hire themselves as servants, many die on the road from fatigue. The Egyptian caravan, which starts from Cairo, is under the same regulations as the Syrian, but seldom equals the latter in numbers, being composed of Egyptians only, besides the military escort. Its route is more dangerous and fatiguing than that of the Syrian caravan; the road along the shore of the Red Sea leading through the territories of wild and warlike tribes of Bedouins, who frequently endeavour to cut off a part of the caravan by open force. The watering-places too are much fewer on this route than on the other; three days frequently intervening between the wells, which are, besides, seldom copious, and, with the exception of two or three, are of bad brackish water. In 1814, this caravan was composed of soldiers only with the retinue of the sacred camel, and some public officers; all the Egyptian pilgrims having preferred taking the route by Suez. In 1816, several grandees of Cairo joined the Hadj, one of whom had one hundred and ten camels for the transport of his baggage and retinue, and eight tents: his travelling expenses in going and coming must have amounted to ten thousand pounds. There were also about five hundred peasants, with their women, from upper and lower Egypt, who were less afraid of the fatigues and dangers of the Desert than of the Sea. I saw with them a party of public women and dancing-girls, whose tents and equipage were among the most splendid in the [p.251] caravan. Female hadjys of a similar class accompany the Syrian caravan also. The Persian Hadj, which used to set out from Baghdad, and come through Nedjed to Mekka, was discontinued about the time when the Wahabys stopped the Syrian Hadj. After Abdullah ibn Saoud had made peace with Tousoun Pasha in 1815, it ventured to cross the Desert, and passed by Derayeh unmolested; but within four days� journey of Mekka, it was attacked by the Beni Shammar, a tribe which had remained neuter during the war between Tousoun and the Wahabys. The caravan then returned to Derayeh; through the intercession of Saoud, the goods of which it had been plundered were restored; and he sent a party of his own people to escort it to the holy city. The Persian caravan is usually escorted by the Ageyl Arabs, of Baghdad. As its pilgrims are known to be sectaries, they are exposed to great extortions on the road: Saoud exacted a heavy capitation-tax from them, as did Sherif Ghaleb at Mekka, amounting in latter times to thirty sequins per head. Persian hadjys are all persons of property, and no pilgrims suffer so much imposition as they during the whole route. Great numbers of them come by sea: they embark at Bassora for Mokha, and if they fall in with the trade-wind, run straight to Djidda; if not, they form themselves into a caravan, and come by land along the coast of Yemen. In 1814, when I was present at the Hadj, the few Persians who came by land, had passed through Baghdad to Syria, and had followed the Syrian caravan, accompanied by Baghdad camel-drivers. It deserves notice here, that the Persians were not always permitted to come to the holy city; being notorious heretics, who conceal their doctrines only during the Hadj, that they may not give offence to the Sunnys. In 1634, a few years after the temple of Mekka had been rebuilt, Sultan Murad IV. commanded that no Persian of the sect of Aly should be allowed to perform the pilgrimage, or enter the Beittullah. This prohibition was complied with for several years; but the money expended by the Persians soon re-opened the way to Arafat [p.252] and the Kaaba. We learn from Asamy, that, in 1625, a sectary of Aly was impaled alive at Mekka, because he would not abjure his creed. The Moggrebyn Hadj caravan has for many years ceased to be regular. It is usually accompanied by a relative of the King of Morocco, and proceeds from his residence by slow marches towards Tunis and Tripoly, collecting additional pilgrims in every district through which it passes. Its route from Tripoly is along the shores of the Syrtis to Derne, and from thence along the coast of Egypt, passing either by Alexandria, or taking the direction of the Natron lakes straight for Cairo, from whence it follows the common pilgrim-route. This caravan returning from Mekka always visits Medina, which the Egyptian Hadj never does, and sometimes extends its route by land as far as Jerusalem. Few troops accompany it; but its pilgrims are well armed, and ready to defend themselves: of the two other great caravans, no body fights but the escort. The last Moggrebyn caravan passed through Egypt in 1811; the Wahabys permitted them to visit Mekka, as they saw that they were free from those scandalous practices with which they upbraided the Egyptians and Syrians; but the caravan experienced many misfortunes on its return, from enemies, and from a want of guides, and provisions, in consequence of which many of its people died. The pilgrims from Barbary arrive now usually by sea at Alexandria, and re-embark at Suez, in parties of fifty or a hundred at a time. Although poorly dressed, they have generally sufficient money to defray their expenses, and few of them are beggars; of this class, however, I saw a small party, Arabs from Draa, on the S.E. side of Mount Atlas, who had set out with the Egyptian caravan by land in September, 1816. They told me that they had obtained a. free passage by sea from Tunis to Alexandria. One of them was a Bedouin of the Shilouh nation, whose encampment, when he left it, was at twenty days� journey from Tombuctou. In the Moggrebyn caravan also are generally found some natives of the island of Djerba, or Girba, who are strongly suspected of being sectaries of Aly; and some of whom are often stationary at Cairo, [p.253] inhabiting the quarter called Teyloun, and keeping themselves wholly separate from all other Moggrebyns established in the town. But the far greater part of the caravan is from the kingdom of Marocco. I believe that two thousand is the largest yearly number of Barbary pilgrims. The last caravans comprised altogether from six to eight thousand men. Two Yemen pilgrim caravans used to arrive at Mekka, in former times, by land. The one called Hadj el Kebsy, started from Sada, in Yemen, and took its course along the mountains to Tayf and to Mekka. Two itineraries of this caravan, with some notices on it, will be found in the Appendix. The other, which was formed of natives of Yemen, and of Persians and Indians who had arrived in the harbours of that country, came along the coast. This caravan was discontinued about 1803, and has not yet been re-established. It was once considerable, and rich in merchandize and coffee; and sometimes enjoyed the honour of being accompanied by the Imams of Yemen. Like the Syrian and Egyptian caravans, it had a particular place assigned for its camp near Mekka, where a large stone tank was built to supply it with water. I have seen the route of an Indian pilgrim caravan, laid down in several maps as starting from Maskat, and coming by Nedjed to Mekka; but I could obtain no information respecting it; that such, however, existed formerly, appears from the frequent mention of it made by the historian Asamy. Those persons whom I questioned assured me that no such caravan had arrived within their memory; but I believe that, in the time of peace, Indian, Persian, and Arab beggars, in small parties, sometimes arrive in the Hedjaz by the above route. Before the power of the Sherifs was broken by the chief Sherif Serour, the former extorted from every caravan that came to Mekka considerable sums, besides the surra to which they were entitled. As soon as they heard of the near approach of a caravan, they issued from Mekka with all their armed retinue and their Bedouin friends, and often disputed with the leaders of the caravan for several days before the amount of the tribute was settled. To the regular caravans above mentioned, must be added large bodies of Bedouins, which resort to Mekka, during peace, from every part of the Desert; for even among the least religious Bedouins, the title of hadjy is respected: Nedjed sends its pilgrims, as do also the Southern Bedouins. When the Wahabys were in possession of Mekka, hosts of these sectaries came to Arafat, as much, perhaps, for the purpose of paying their court to the chief, who, it was known, liked to see his Arabs collected there, as from religious motives. The last time the Wahabys performed the Hadj was in 1811, shortly after the first defeat of Tousoun Pasha at Djedeyde: they were accompanied by large bodies of Bedouins of Kahtan, Asyr, with others from the most interior part of the Desert. The plunder taken from the Turkish army was sold to the Mekkawys in the market at Arafat. I shall here observe that Aly Bey el Abassy has made a strange mistake with respect to the host of Wahabys, whom he saw entering Mekka at the time of the pilgrimage; for he fancied that they came to take possession of the town, and flattered himself that he was present at the first conquest of Mekka by the Wahabys, while every child in the place could have informed him that this event happened three years before his arrival in the Hedjaz. At present, as I have already mentioned, most of the hadjys arrive by sea at Djidda: those who come from the north embark at Suez or Cosseir, and among them are a large proportion of the Barbary pilgrims, many Turks from Anatolia and European Turkey, Syrians, and numerous dervishes from Persia, Tartary, and the realms watered by the Indus. The want of shipping on the Red Sea, occasioned by the increased demand for ships to accommodate the Turkish army of the Hedjaz, renders the passage precarious; and they sometimes lose the opportunity, and arrive too late for the pilgrimage, as happened to a party in 1814, who reached Mekka three days after the Hadj, having been long detained at Suez. From the bad quality of the vessels, and their crowded state, the passage is very disagreeable, and often dangerous. Nothing has yet been done by Mohammed Aly Pasha to make this voyage more commodious to the pilgrims; but, on the contrary, be has laid a tax upon them, by forcing a contract for their passage to Djidda [p.255] at a high price, (it was eighteen dollars a head in 1814), with his governor at Suez, who distributed them on board the Arab ships, and paid to the masters of the vessels only six dollars per head. Formerly hadjys were permitted to carry with them from Suez as great a quantity of provisions as they chose, part of which they afterwards sold in the Hedjaz to some profit; but at present none can embark with more than what is barely sufficient for his own consumption during the pilgrimage. The advantage of carrying along with them their provisions, chiefly butter, flour, biscuits, and dried flesh, purchased at cheap prices in Egypt, for the whole journey, was a principal reason for preferring a sea voyage; for those who go by land must purchase all their provisions at Mekka, where the prices are high. If the foreign pilgrims, on their arrival at Cairo, cannot hear of any ships lying in the harbour of Suez, they often pursue their way up the Nile as far as Genne, and from thence cross the Desert to Cosseir, from whence it is but a short voyage to Djidda. In returning from the Hedjaz, this Cosseir route is preferred by the greater part of the Turkish hadjys. The natives of Upper Egypt go by Cosseir; likewise many negro pilgrims, after having followed the banks of the Nile from Sennar down to Genne. The usual fare for hadjys from Cosseir to Djidda, is from six to eight dollars. In the last days of the Mamelouks, when they held possession of Upper Egypt, while the lower was conquered by Mohammed Aly, many Turkish hadjys who repaired to the Hedjaz in small parties, though it was then in the hands of the Wahabys, suffered much illtreatment from the Mamelouks, on their return to Egypt; many of them were stripped and slain in their passage down the Nile. The sanguinary Greek, Hassan Beg el Yahoudy, boasted of having himself killed five hundred of them. These massacres of inoffensive pilgrims furnished Mohammed Aly with an excuse for his treachery in putting the Mamelouks to death at the castle of Cairo. Other pilgrims arrive by sea from Yemen and the East India, namely, Mohammedan Hindous, and Malays; Cashmerians, and people from Guzerat; Persians, from the Persian Gulf; Arabians, from Bassora, Maskat, Oman, Hadramaut; and those from the coasts [p.256] of Melinda and Mombaza, who are comprised under the generic name of the people of the Sowahel, i.e. the level coast; Abyssinian Moslims, and many negro pilgrims, who come by the same route. All Moslims dwelling on the coasts of the ocean are certain of finding, towards the period of the Hadj, some ship departing from a neighbouring harbour for the Red Sea; but the greater number arrive with the regular Indian fleet in May, and remain at Mekka or Medina till the time of the Hadj; soon after which, they embark on board country ships at Djidda for Yemen, where they wait till the period of the trade-winds to pass the Bab el Mandeb. Multitudes of beggars come to Mekka from the above-mentioned countries; they get a free passage from charitable individuals in their own country, or the cost of it is defrayed by those who employ them as their proxies in performing the Hadj; but when they land, they are thrown entirely upon the charity of other hadjys; and the alms they collect, must serve to carry them back to their homes. Few pilgrims, except the mendicants, arrive without bringing some productions of their respective countries for sale; and this remark is applicable as well to the merchants, with whom commercial pursuits are the main object, as to those who are actuated by religious zeal for to the latter, the profits derived from selling a few native articles at Mekka, diminish, in some degree, the heavy expenses of the journey. The Moggrebyns, for example, bring their red bonnets and woollen cloaks; the European Turks, shoes and slippers, hardware, embroidered stuffs, sweetmeats, amber, trinkets of European manufacture, knit silk purses, &c.; the Turks of Anatolia bring carpets, silks, and Angora shawls; the Persians, cashmere shawls and large silk handkerchiefs; the Afghans, tooth-brushes, called Mesouak Kattary, made of the spongy boughs of a tree growing in Bokhara, beads of a yellow soap-stone, and plain, coarse shawls, manufactured in their own country; the Indians, the numerous productions of their rich and extensive region; the people of Yemen, snakes for the Persian pipes, sandals, and various other works in leather; and the Africans bring various articles adapted to the slave- trade. The hadjys are, however, often disappointed in their expectations of gain; want of money makes [p.257] them hastily sell their little adventures at the public auctions, and often obliges them to accept very low prices. Of all the poor pilgrims who arrive in the Hedjaz, none bear a more respectable character for industry than the Negroes, or Tekrourys, as they are called here. All the poorer class of Indians turn beggars as soon as they are landed at Djidda. Many Syrians and Egyptians follow the same trade; but not so the Negroes. I have already stated in a former journal, that the latter reach the Hedjaz by the three harbours of Massouah, Souakin, and Cosseir. Those who come by Sennar and Abyssinia to Massoua, are all paupers. The small sum of one dollar carries them from Massoua to the opposite coast of Yemen; and they usually land at Hodeyda. Here they wait for the arrival of a sufficient number of their countrymen, to form a small caravan, and then ascend the mountains of Yemen, along the fertile valleys of which, inhabited by hospitable Arabs, they beg their way to Djidda or to Mekka. [In 1813, a party of Tekrourys, about sixty in number, having taken that road, the Arabs of those mountains, who are Wahabys, and who had often seen black slaves among the Turkish soldiers, conceived that the negro hadjys were in the habit of entering into the service of the Turks. To prevent the party then passing from being ever opposed to them, they waylaid the poor Tekrourys on the road, and killed many of them.] If rich enough to spare two dollars, they obtain, perhaps, a passage from Massoua direct to Djidda, where they meet with such of their countrymen as may have landed there from Souakin or Cosseir. Immediately on their arrival at Djidda or Mekka, they apply themselves to labour: some serve as porters, for the transport of goods and corn from the ships to the warehouses; others hire themselves to clean the court-yards, fetch wood from the neighbouring mountains, for the supply of which the inhabitants of Djidda and Mekka are exclusively indebted to them, as none of their own lazy poor will undertake that labour, although four piastres a day may be gained by it. At Mekka, they make small hearths of clay, (kanoun,) which they paint with yellow and red; these are bought by the hadjys, who boil their coffee-pots upon them. Some manufacture small baskets and mats of date-leaves, or prepare the intoxicating drink called bouza; and others serve as water-carriers: in short, when any occasion requires manual [p.258] labour, a Tekroury from the market is always employed. If any of them is attacked by disease, his companions attend upon him, and defray his expenses. I have seen very few of them ask for charity, except on the first days after their arrival, before they have been able to obtain employment. From Mekka, they either travel by land, or sometimes make a sea voyage by way of Yembo to Medina, where they again supply the town with fire-wood. Indeed, the hadjys would be much at a loss in the Hedjaz, if they could not command the laborious services of these blacks. During the Wahaby conquest, they continued to perform the pilgrimage; and it is said that Saoud expressed a particular esteem for them. [Makrisi states, in his treatise on the Khalifes who performed the Hadj, that in A.H. 724, a negro king called Mousa arrived at Cairo on his way to Mekka, and was splendidly entertained by Kalaoun, then Sultan of Egypt. He had with him, according to Makrisi, fourteen thousand chosen female slaves.] When these negroes have completed the Hadj, and the visit to Mekka, they repair to Djidda, where they continue to work till an opportunity offers of sailing to Souakin; for very few, if any, return by way of Abyssinia. On leaving the Hedjaz, they all possess a sufficient sum of money, saved from the profits of their industry, to purchase some small adventure, or, at least, to provide, on their reaching Souakin, for a more comfortable passage through the Desert than that which they experienced on their outward journey, and then proceed homewards by Shendy and Cordofan. Many of them, however, instead of returning on the completion of the pilgrimage, disperse over Arabia, visit the mosque at Jerusalem, or Ibrahim�s (Abraham� s) tomb at Hebron, and thus remain absent from their home for many years, subsisting always upon the product of their own labour. The benefactors to the Kaaba have enriched the temple of Mekka, and the idle persons employed in it; but no one has thought of forming any establishment for facilitating the pilgrimage of the poor negroes and Indians, or of procuring for them a free passage across the gulf to the Hedjaz; the expense of which, amounting to a dollar or two, is that which they feel most heavily. They often arrive in the harbours of the African side of the gulf, after having spent the [p.259] little they had taken with them from home, or having been robbed of it on the journey; and finding, perhaps, no means there of earning as much as will pay their passage across the Red Sea, are obliged to wait till the return of their richer companions from the Hedjaz, who charitably pay for their passage. The poor Indians afford a complete contrast, both in appearance and character, to the negroes: more wretched countenances can hardly be imagined; they seem to have lost not only all energy, but even hope. With bodies which appear scarcely capable of withstanding a gust of wind, and voices equally feeble, they would be worthy objects of commiseration, did not daily experience prove that they delight to appear in this plight, because it secures to them the alms of the charitable, and exempts them from labour. The streets of Mekka are crowded with them; the most decrepid make their doleful appeals to the passenger, lying at full length on their backs in the middle of the street; the gates of the mosque are always beset with them; every coffee-house and water-stand is a station for some of them; and no hadjy can purchase provisions in the markets, without being importuned by Indians soliciting a portion of them. I saw among them one of those devotees who are so common in the north of India and in Persia: one of his arms was held up straight over his head, and so fixed by long habit, that it could not be placed in any other situation. From the curiosity which he excited, I was led to suppose that such characters seldom find their way to the Hedjaz. Dervishes of every sect and order in the Turkish empire are found among the pilgrims; many of them madmen, or at least assuming the appearance of insanity, which causes them to be much respected by the hadjys, and fills their pockets with money. The behaviour of some of them is so violent, and at the same time so cunning, that even the least charitably disposed hadjys give willingly something to escape from them. They mostly come from other countries; for among the Arabians themselves there are fewer crazy of these people than in other parts of the east. Egypt chiefly abounds with them; and almost every village in the valley of the Nile furnishes some Masloub, or [p.260] reputed madman, whom the inhabitants regard as an inspired being, and a blessing sent to them from heaven. [In 1813, the Christian community of Gous, in Upper Egypt, had the honour of possessing an insane youth, who walked about the bazars quite naked. But the Moslims of the place growing jealous, seized him one night, and converted him by circumcision into a Mohammedan saint.] The arrival of strangers from all parts of the Mohammedan world, from Tombuctou to Samarkand, and from Georgia to Borneo, would render Djidda a most desirable residence for an inquisitive European traveller, who, by affording assistance to poor hadjys, and spending a small sum in provisions for them, would attract large numbers to his house, and might thus collect much information respecting the most distant and unknown parts of Africa and Asia. All, except the higher classes of Mekkawys, let out their houses during the Hadj, and demand from their under- tenants as much for a few weeks or months as they pay to the proprietor for a whole year. I paid for one room with a small kitchen and a by- place for my slave, fifteen dollars for six weeks, which equalled the annual rent of the whole house received by the landlord; and I should have been obliged to pay the same price if I had taken it only during the fortnight preceding and following the Hadj. The house in which I hired these rooms was divided into several lodgings, and was let altogether to different hadjys at one hundred and twenty dollars, the owners having retired into apartments so mean that strangers would not occupy them. Of the numerous pilgrims who arrive at Mekka before the caravan, some are professed merchants; many others bring a few articles for sale, which they dispose of without trouble. They then pass the interval of time before the Hadj very pleasantly; free from cares and apprehensions, and enjoying that supreme happiness of an Asiatic, the dolce far niente[.] Except those of a very high rank, the pilgrims live together in a state of freedom and equality. They keep but few servants: many, indeed, have none, and divide among themselves the various duties of house-keeping, such as bringing the provisions from market and cooking them, although accustomed at home to the [p.261] services of an attendant. The freedom and oblivion of care which accompany travelling, render it a period of enjoyment among the people of the East as among Europeans; and the same kind of happiness results from their residence at Mekka, where reading the Koran, smoking in the streets or coffee-houses, praying or conversing in the mosque, are added to the indulgence of their pride in being near the holy house, and to the anticipation of the honours attached to the title of hadjy for the remainder of their lives; besides the gratification of religious feelings, and the hopes of futurity, which influence many of the pilgrims. The hadjys who come by the caravans pass their time very differently. As soon as they have finished their tedious journey, they must undergo the fatiguing ceremonies of visiting the Kaaba and Omra; immediately after which, they are hurried away to Arafat and Mekka, and, still heated from the effects of the journey, are exposed to the keen air of the Hedjaz mountains under the slight and inadequate covering of the ihram: then returning to Mekka, they have only a few days left to recruit their strength, and to make their repeated visits to the Beitullah, when the caravan sets off on its return; and thus the whole pilgrimage is a severe trial of bodily strength, and a continual series of fatigues and privations. This mode of visiting the holy city is, however, in accordance with the opinions of many most learned Moslim divines, who thought that a long residence in the Hedjaz, however meritorious the intention, is little conducive to true belief, since the daily sight of the holy places weakened the first impressions made by them. Notwithstanding the general decline of Muselman zeal, there are still found Mohammedans whose devotion induces them to visit repeatedly the holy places. I knew Turks established at Cairo, who, even while the Wahaby faith predominated in the Hedjaz, went every year by way of Cosseir to Mekka; and there are a few individuals who reside constantly in that city, that they may pass the remainder of their days in pious duties and abstraction from the world. During my stay, a Turkish grandee arrived from Constantinople; he had been Kahwadjy Bashy to Sultan Selym; and the present Grand Signior had permitted him to go, that he might die in the sacred territory, where his arrival was announced by princely donations to the mosque. [p.262] The Syrian and Egyptian caravans always arrive at fixed periods; generally a day or two before the departure of the Hadj for Arafat. Both caravans usually pass by Beder, on the same day, or with an interval of one day only. The Syrian caravan coming from Medina, and the Egyptian from Yembo el Nakhel, prosecute their route from Beder to Mekka, at a short distance from each other. On the 5th of the month of Zul Hadj, A.H. 1229, or the 21st of November, 1814, the approach of the Syrian caravan was announced by one of its Mekowem, who came galloping into the town, to win the prize which is always awarded to the Sabbák, or him who brings the first tidings of the safe arrival of that caravan. The loud acclamations of the mob followed him to the governor�s house, where his horse expired the moment he dismounted. The news was the more important, as nothing had been heard of this Hadj, and rumours had even been circulated of the Bedouins having plundered it on the road to the north of Medina. Two hours after, many other persons belonging to it arrived; and in the night the whole body came up, and encamped, with the Pasha of Damascus at their head, in the plain of Sheikh Mahmoud. Early the next morning, the Egyptian caravan also arrived. The heavy baggage and the camels were sent to the usual place of encampment of the Egyptian Hadj, in the Moabede; but the Mahmal, or holy camel, remained at Sheikh Mahmoud, that it might pass from thence in procession next day through the town. Mohammed Aly Pasha arrived unexpectedly this morning from Tayf, to be present at the Hadj, and to inspect the cavalry which had come with the Egyptian caravan, a reinforcement that strongly excited his hopes of success against the Wahabys. He was dressed in a very handsome ihram, having two large entirely white cashmirene shawls wrapped round his loins and shoulders: his head was bare; but an officer held over it an umbrella to protect him from the sun, while riding through the streets. On the same morning, all the hadjys resident at Mekka took the ihram at their own lodgings, with the usual ceremonies, preparatory to their setting out for Arafat; and at mid-day they assembled in the mosque, where a short sermon was preached on the occasion. The hadjys who had come with the caravan had already [p.263] taken the ihram at Asfan, two stations in advance of Mekka; but a great number of them, especially the servants and camel-drivers, did not throw off their ordinary dresses, and even appeared in them at Arafat, without causing either surprise or indignation. There is no religious police or inquisition here; and every body is left to the dictates of his conscience, either to observe or neglect the precepts of the canonical law. Great bustle prevailed this evening in the town. Every body was preparing for his journey to Arafat; Syrian hadjys came to engage lodgings, to inquire about the state of the markets, and to pay their first visits to the Kaaba. A number of pedlars and petty shopkeepers left the town to establish themselves at Arafat, and to be ready there for the accommodation of the pilgrims. A number of camel-drivers from Syria and Egypt led their unloaded camels through the streets, offering to let them out to the hadjys going to Arafat. The rate of hire this year was very moderate, on account of the great number of beasts of burden: I engaged two of these camels, for the journey of four days to Arafat and back again, for three dollars. On the 8th of Zul Hadj, early in the morning, the Syrian Hadj passed in procession through the town, accompanied by all its soldiers, and carrying the Mahmal in front. All its baggage was left at Sheikh Mahmoud, excepting the tents that were to be pitched at Arafat. Most of the hadjys were mounted in the Shebrye, a sort of palankeen placed upon the camel. The great people, and the Pasha of Damascus himself, rode in takhtrouans, a kind of closed [l]itter or box carried by two camels, one before and the other behind, and forming a very commodious conveyance, except that it is necessary always to have a ladder, by means of which one may mount or descend. The camels� heads were decorated with feathers, tassels, and bells; but their heads, bent down towards the ground, showed how much they were fatigued by their journey. While these passed, the streets were lined by people of all classes, who greeted the caravan with loud acclamations and praise. The martial music of the Pasha of Damascus, a dozen of fine caparisoned horses led in front of his litter, and the rich takhtrouans in which his women rode, particularly attracted attention. [p.264] Soon after the Syrians had passed, the Egyptian procession followed, consisting of its Mahmal or sacred camel, (for each of the caravans carries one,) and the Shebryes of the public officers, who always accompany the Hadj; but not a single private pilgrim was to be seen in its suite. The good appearance of the soldiers who were with them, the splendour of the Mahmal, and of the equipage of the Emir el Hadj, who was a commander of the Turkish horsemen called Delhis, drew from the Mekkawys many signs of approbation, such as had been given to those who immediately preceded them. Both caravans continued their route to Arafat without stopping. Before mid-day, all the hadjys who had resided for some time at Mekka, likewise mounted their camels, and crowded the streets as they pressed forward to follow the Hadj. They were joined by the far greater part of the population of Mekka, who make it a rule to go every year to Arafat; and by a similar portion of the population of Djidda, who had been assembled here for some time. During five or six days, the gates of Djidda, thus deserted by so many people, remain shut. I left my lodgings on foot, after mid-day, with a companion and a slave- boy mounted on two camels, which I had hired from a Syrian driver, a native of Homs. It is thought meritorious to make the six hours� journey to Arafat on foot, particularly if the pilgrim goes barefooted. Many hadjys did so; and I preferred this mode, because I had led a very sedentary life for some months. We were several hours before we could reach the outskirts of the town beyond the Moabede, so great was the crowd of camels; and many accidents happened. Of the half-naked hadjys, all dressed in the white ihram, some sat reading the Koran upon their camels; some ejaculated loud prayers; whilst others cursed their drivers, and quarrelled with those near them, who were choking up the passage. Beyond the town the road widens, and we passed on through the valleys, at a very slow march, for two hours, to Wady Muna, in the narrow entrance of which great confusion again occurred. The law enjoins that the hadjys shall recite five prayers at Muna, Mohammed having always done so; that is to say, that they shall arrive there at noon, in time for the mid-day prayer, and remaining [p.265] until the next morning, shall perform the prayers of the Aszer, of Mogreb, and of Ashe, and that of the dawn on the ensuing day. The inconvenience, however, arising from a delay on the route has led to the neglect of this precept for some time past; and the Hadj now passes Muna, on its way to Arafat, without halting. In advance of Muna, we had the mosque of Mozdelife to our right, whither many pilgrims went to recite the Salat el Aszer and Salat el Mogreb; but the caravan continued its march. Beyond Mozdelife, we again entered the mountains by the pass called El Mazoumeyn, on the eastern side of which we issued towards the plain of Arafat. Here the pilgrims passed between the two pillars called Alameyn, and, on approaching the vicinity of Djebel Arafat, dispersed over the plain in search of their place of encampment. I reached the camp about three hours after sun-set; but the last stragglers did not arrive till midnight. Numberless fires were seen lighted on an extent of ground of three or four miles in length; and high and brilliant clusters of lamps marked the different places of encampment of Mohammed Aly, Soleyman Pasha, and the Emir el Hadj of the Egyptian caravan. Hadjys were seen in every direction wandering among the tents in search of their companions, whom they had lost in the confusion on the road; and it was several hours before the noise and clamour had subsided. Few persons slept during that night: the devotees sat up praying, and their loud chants were particularly distinguished on the side of the Syrian encampment; the merry Mekkawys formed themselves into parties, singing the jovial songs called djok, accompanied by clapping of hands; and the coffee-houses scattered over the plain were crowded the whole night with customers. The night was dark and cold, and a few drops of rain fell. I had formed a resting-place for myself by means of a large carpet tied to the back part of a Mekkawy�s tent; and having walked about for the greater part of the night, I had just disposed myself to sleep, when two guns, fired by the Syrian and Egyptian Hadj, announced the approaching dawn of the day of pilgrimage, and summoned the faithful to prepare for their morning prayers. To illustrate the following account, a plan of Arafat is annexed; [p.266] and the figures and marks of reference which it contains are explained below. [not included] At sun-rise on the 9th of Zul Hadj, every pilgrim issued from his tent, to walk over the plains, and take a view of the busy crowds assembled there. Long streets of tents, fitted up as bazars, furnished all kinds of provisions. The Syrian and Egyptian cavalry were exercised by their chiefs early in the morning, while thousands of camels were seen feeding upon the dry shrubs of the plain all round the camp. I walked to Mount Arafat, to enjoy from its summit a more distinct view of the whole. This granite hill, which is also called Djebel er� Rahme, or the Mountain of Mercy, rises on the north-east side of the plain, close to the mountains which encompass it, but separated from them by a rocky valley; it is about a mile, or a mile and a half in circuit; its sides are sloping, and its summit is nearly two hundred feet above the level of the plain. On the eastern side broad stone steps lead up to the top, and a broad unpaved path, on the western, over rude masses of granite, with which its declivity is covered. After mounting about forty steps, we find a spot a little on the left, called Modaa Seydna Adam, or the place of prayer of our Lord Adam, where, it is related, that the father of mankind used to stand while praying; for here it was, according to Mohammedan tradition, that the angel Gabriel first instructed Adam how to adore his Creator. A marble slab, bearing an inscription in modern characters, is fixed in the side of the mountain. On reaching about the sixtieth step, we come to a [p.267] small paved platform to our right, on a level spot of the hill, where the preacher stands who admonishes the pilgrims on the afternoon of this day, as I shall hereafter mention. Thus high, the steps are so broad and easy that a horse or camel may ascend, but higher up they become more steep and uneven. On the summit the place is shown where Mohammed used to take his station during the Hadj; a small chapel formerly stood over it; but this was destroyed by the Wahabys: here the pilgrims usually pray two rikats, in salutation of Arafat. The steps and the summit are covered with handkerchiefs to receive their pious gifts, and each family of the Mekkawys or Bedouins of the tribe of Koreysh, in whose territory Arafat lies, has its particular spot assigned to it for this purpose. The summit commands a very extensive and singular prospect. I brought my compass to take a circle of bearings; but the crowd was so great, that I could not use it. Towards the western extremity of the plain are seen Bir Bazan and the Aalameyn; somewhat nearer, southwards, the mosque called Djama Nimre, or Djama Seydna Ibrahim; and on the south-east, a small house where the Sherif used to lodge during the pilgrimage. From thence an elevated rocky ground in the plain extends towards Arafat. On the eastern side of the mountain, and close to its foot, are the ruins of a small mosque, built on rocky ground, called Djama el Szakhrat, where Mohammed was accustomed to pray, and where the pilgrims make four prostrations in memory of the prophet. Several large reservoirs lined with stone are dispersed over the plain; two or three are close to the foot of Arafat, and there are some near the house of the Sherifs: they are filled from the same fine aqueduct which supplies Mekka, and the head of which is about one hour and a half distant, in the eastern mountains. The canal is left open here for the convenience of pilgrims, and is conducted round the three sides of the mountains, passing by Modaa Seydna Adam. [At the close of the sixteenth century, according to Kotobeddyn, the whole plain of Arafat was cultivated.] From the summit of Arafat, I counted about three thousand tents dispersed over the plain, of which two thirds belonged to the two [p.268] Hadj caravans, and to the suite and soldiers of Mohammed Aly; the rest to the Arabs of the Sherif, the Bedouin hadjys, and the people of Mekka and Djidda. These assembled multitudes were for the greater number, like myself, without tents. The two caravans were encamped without much order, each party of pilgrims or soldiers having pitched its tents in large circles or dowars, in the midst of which many of their camels were reposing. The plain contained, dispersed in different parts, from twenty to twenty-five thousand camels, twelve thousand of which belonged to the Syrian Hadj, and from five to six thousand to the Egyptian; besides about three thousand, purchased by Mohammed Aly from the Bedouins in the Syrian Deserts, and brought to Mekka with the Hadj, to convey the pilgrims to this place, previously to being used for the transport of army-provisions to Tayf. The Syrian Hadj was encamped on the south and south-west side of the mountain; the Egyptian on the south-east. Around the house of the Sherif, Yahya himself was encamped with his Bedouin troops, and in its neighbourhood were all the Hedjaz people. Here it was that the two Yemen caravans used formerly to take their station. Mohammed Aly, and Soleyman Pasha of Damascus, as well as several of their officers, had very handsome tents; but the most magnificent of all was that of the wife of Mohammed Aly, the mother of Tousoun Pasha, and Ibrahim Pasha, who had lately arrived from Cairo for the Hadj, with a truly royal equipage, five hundred camels being necessary to transport her baggage from Djidda to Mekka. Her tent was in fact an encampment consisting of a dozen tents of different sizes, inhabited by her women; the whole enclosed by a wall of linen cloth, eight hundred paces in circuit, the single entrance to which was guarded by eunuchs in splendid dresses. Around this enclosure were pitched the tents of the men who formed her numerous suite. The beautiful embroidery on the exterior of this linen palace, with the various colours displayed in every part of it, constituted an object which reminded me of some descriptions in the Arabian Tales of the Thousand and One Nights. Among the rich equipages of the other hadjys, or of the Mekka people, none were so conspicuous as that belonging to the family of Djeylany, the merchant, whose tents, pitched [p.269] in a semicircle, rivalled in beauty those of the two Pashas, and far exceeded those of Sherif Yahya. In other parts of the East, a merchant would as soon think of buying a rope for his own neck, as of displaying his wealth in the presence of a Pasha; but Djeylany has not yet laid aside the customs which the Mekkawys learned under their old government, particularly that of Sherif Ghaleb, who seldom exercised extortion upon single individuals; and they now rely on the promises of Mohammed Aly, that he will respect their property. During the whole morning, there were repeated discharges of the artillery which both Pashas had brought with them. A few pilgrims had taken up their quarters on Djebel Arafat itself, where some small cavern, or impending block of granite, afforded them shelter from the sun. It is a belief generally entertained in the East, and strengthened by many boasting hadjys on their return home, that all the pilgrims, on this day, encamp upon Mount Arafat; and that the mountain possesses the miraculous property of expansion, so as to admit an indefinite number of the faithful upon its summit. The law ordains that the wakfe, or position of the Hadj, should be on Djebel Arafat; but it wisely provides against any impossibility, by declaring that the plain in the immediate neighbourhood of the mountain may be regarded as comprised under the term �mountain,� or Djebel Arafat. I estimated the number of persons assembled here at about seventy thousand. The camp was from three to four miles long, and between one and two in breadth. There is, perhaps, no spot on earth where, in so small a place, such a diversity of languages are heard; I reckoned about forty, and have no doubt that there were many more. It appeared to me as if I were here placed in a holy temple of travellers only; and never did I at any time feel a more ardent wish to be able to penetrate once into the inmost recesses of the countries of many of those persons whom I now saw before me, fondly imagining that I might have no more difficulty in reaching their homes, than what they had experienced in their journey to this spot. When the attention is engrossed by such a multitude of new objects, time passes rapidly away. I had only descended from Mount [p.270] Arafat, and had walked for some time about the camp, here and there entering into conversation with pilgrims; inquiring at the Syrian camp after some of my friends; and among the Syrian Bedouins, for news from their deserts, when mid-day had already passed. The prayers of this period of the day ought to be performed either within, or in the immediate neighbourhood of, the mosque of Nimre, whither the two Pashas had repaired for that purpose. The far greater number of hadjys, however, dispense with this observance, and many of them with the mid- day prayers altogether; for no one concerns himself whether his neighbour is punctual or not in the performance of the prescribed rites. After mid-day, the pilgrims are to wash and purify the body, by means of the entire ablution prescribed by the law, and called Ghossel, for which purpose chiefly, the numerous tents in the plain have been constructed; but the weather was cloudy, and rather cold, which induced nine-tenths of the pilgrims, shivering as they were already under the thin covering of the ihram, to omit the rite also, and to content themselves with the ordinary ablution. The time of Aszer (or about three o�clock, P.M.) approached, when that ceremony of the Hadj takes place, for which the whole assembly had come hither. The pilgrims now pressed forward towards the mountain of Arafat, and covered its sides from top to bottom. At the precise time of Aszer, the preacher took his stand upon the platform on the mountain, and began to address the multitude. This sermon, which lasts till sun-set, constitutes the holy ceremony of the Hadj called Khotbet el Wakfe; and no pilgrim, although he may have visited all the holy places of Mekka, is entitled to the name of hadjy, unless he has been present on this occasion. As Aszer approached, therefore, all the tents were struck, every thing was packed up, the caravans began to load, and the pilgrims belonging to them mounted their camels, and crowded round the mountain, to be within sight of the preacher, which is sufficient, as the greater part of the multitude is necessarily too distant to hear him. The two Pashas, with their whole cavalry drawn up in two squadrons behind them, took their post in the rear of the deep lines of camels of the hadjys, to which those of the people of the Hedjaz were also joined; and here they waited in solemn and respectful [p.271] silence the conclusion of the sermon. Further removed from the preacher, was the Sherif Yahya, with his small body of soldiers, distinguished by several green standards carried before him. The two Mahmals, or holy camels, which carry on their back the high structure that serves as the banner of their respective caravans, made way with difficulty through the ranks of camels that encircled the southern and eastern sides of the hill, opposite to the preacher, and took their station, surrounded by their guards, directly under the platform in front of him. [The Mahmal (an exact representation of which is given by D�Ohsson,) is a high, hollow, wooden frame, in the form of a cone, with a pyramidal top, covered with a fine silk brocade adorned with ostrich feathers, and having a small book of prayers and charms placed in the midst of it, wrapped up in a piece of silk. (My description is taken from the Egyptian Mahmal.) When on the road, it serves as a holy banner to the caravan; and on the return of the Egyptian caravan, the book of prayers is exposed in the mosque El Hassaneyn, at Cairo, where men and women of the lower classes go to kiss it, and obtain a blessing by rubbing their foreheads upon it. No copy of the Koran, nor any thing but the book of prayers, is placed in the Cairo Mahmal. The Wahabys declared this ceremony of the Hadj to be a vain pomp, of idolatrous origin, and contrary to the spirit of true religion; and its use was one of the principal reasons which they assigned for interdicting the caravans from repairing to Mekka. In the first centuries of Islam, neither the Omeyades nor the Abassides ever had a Mahmal. Makrisi, in his treatise �On those Khalifes and Sultans who performed the pilgrimage in person,� says that Dhaher Bybars el Bondokdary, Sultan of Egypt, was the first who introduced the Mahmal, about A.H. 670. Since his time, all the Sultans who sent their caravans to Mekka, have considered it as a privilege to send one with each, as a sign of their own royalty. The first Mahmal from Yemen came in A.H. 960; and in A.H.1049, El Moayed Billah, king, and Imam of Yemen, who publicly professed the creed of Zeyd, came with one to Arafat; and the caravans of Baghdad, Damascus, and Cairo, have always carried it with them. In A.H. 730, the Baghdad caravan brought it to Arafat upon an elephant (vide Asamy). I believe the custom to have arisen in the battle-banner of the Bedouins, called Merkeb and Otfe, which I have mentioned in my remarks on the Bedouins, and which resemble the Mahmal, inasmuch as they are high wooden frames placed upon camels.] The preacher, or Khatyb, who is usually the Kadhy of Mekka, was mounted upon a finely-caparisoned camel, which had been led up the steps; it being traditionally said that Mohammed was always seated when he here addressed his followers, a practice in which he was imitated by all the Khalifes who came to the Hadj, and who from [p.272] hence addressed their subjects in person. The Turkish gentleman of Constantinople, however, unused to camel-riding, could not keep his seat so well as the hardy Bedouin prophet; and the camel becoming unruly, he was soon obliged to alight from it. He read his sermon from a book in Arabic, which he held in his hands. At intervals of every four or five minutes he paused, and stretched forth his arms to implore blessings from above; while the assembled multitudes around and before him, waved the skirts of their ihrams over their heads, and rent the air with shouts of �Lebeyk, Allahuma Lebeyk,� (i.e. Here we are, at thy commands, O God!) During the wavings of the ihrams, the side of the mountain, thickly crowded as it was by the people in their white garments, had the appearance, of a cataract of water; while the green umbrellas, with which several thousand hadjys, sitting on their camels below, were provided, bore some resemblance to a verdant plain. During his sermon, which lasted almost three hours, the Kadhy was seen constantly to wipe his eyes with a handkerchief; for the law enjoins the Khatyb or preacher to be moved with feeling and compunction; and adds that, whenever tears appear on his face, it is a sign that the Almighty enlightens him, and is ready to listen to his prayers. The pilgrims who stood near me, upon the large blocks of granite which cover the sides of Arafat, appeared under various aspects. Some of them, mostly foreigners, were crying loudly and weeping, beating their breasts, and denouncing themselves to be great sinners before the Lord; others (but by far the smaller number,) stood in silent reflexion and adoration, with tears in their eyes. Many natives of the Hedjaz, and many soldiers of the Turkish army, were meanwhile conversing and joking; and whenever the others were waving the ihram, made violent gesticulations, as if to ridicule that ceremony. Behind, on the hill, I observed several parties of Arabs and soldiers, who were quietly smoking their nargyles; and in a cavern just by sat a common woman, who sold coffee, and whose visiters, by their loud laughter and riotous conduct, often interrupted the fervent devotions of the hadjys near them. Numbers of people were present in their ordinary clothes. Towards the conclusion of the sermon, the far greater part of the [p.273] assembly seemed to be wearied, and many descended the mountain before the preacher had finished his discourse. It must be observed, however, that the crowds assembled on the mountain were, for the greater part, of the lower classes; the pilgrims of respectability being mounted upon their camels or horses in the plain. At length the sun began to descend behind the western mountains; upon which the Kadhy, having shut his book, received a last greeting of �Lebeyk;� and the crowds rushed down the mountain, in order to quit Arafat. It is thought meritorious to accelerate the pace on this occasion; and many persons make it a complete race, called by the Arabs, Ad�dafa min Arafat. In former times, when the strength of the Syrian and Egyptian caravans happened to be nearly balanced, bloody affrays took place here almost every year between them, each party endeavouring to out-run and to carry its mahmal in advance of the other. The same happened when the mahmals approached the platform at the commencement of the sermon; and two hundred lives have on some occasions been lost in supporting what was thought the honour of the respective caravans. At present the power of Mohammed Aly preponderates, and the Syrian hadjys display great humility. The united caravans and the whole mass of pilgrims now moved forward over the plain; every tent had been previously packed up, to be ready for the occasion. The pilgrims pressed through the Aalameyn, which they must repass on their return; and night came on before they reached the defile called El Mazoumeyn. Innumerable torches were now lighted, twenty-four being carried before each Pasha; and the sparks of fire from them flew far over the plain. There were continual discharges of artillery; the soldiers fired their muskets; the martial bands of both the Pashas played; sky-rockets were thrown as well by the Pashas� officers, as by many private pilgrims; while the Hadj passed at a quick pace in the greatest disorder, amidst a deafening clamour, through the pass of Mazoumeyn, leading towards Mezdelfe, where all alighted, after a two hours� march. No order was observed here in encamping; and every one lay down on the spot that first presented itself, no tents being pitched except those of the Pashas and their [p.274] suites; before which was an illumination of lamps in the form of high arches, which continued to blaze the whole night, while the firing of the artillery was kept up without intermission. In the indescribable confusion attending the departure of the Hadj from Arafat, many pilgrims had lost their camels, and were now heard calling loudly for their drivers, as they sought them over the plain: I myself was among their number. When I went to the mountain of Arafat, I ordered my camel-driver and my slave to remain in readiness upon the spot where they then were, till I should return to them after sun-set; but seeing, soon after I quitted them, that the other loaded camels pressed forward towards the mountain, they followed the example; and when I returned to the place where I left them, they were not to be found. I was therefore obliged to walk to Mezdelfe, where I slept on the sand, covered only by my ihram, after having searched for my people during several hours[.] On the 10th of the month of Zul Hadj, or the day of the feast called Nehar el Dhahye, or Nehar el Nahher, the morning gun awoke the pilgrims before dawn. At the first appearance of day-break, the Kadhy took his station upon the elevated platform which encloses the mosque of Mezdelfe, usually called Moshar el Harám, and began a sermon similar to that which he had preached the day before. The Hadj surrounded the mosque on all sides with lighted torches, and accompanied the sermon with the same exclamations of �Lebeyk Allah huma Lebeyk;� but though this sermon forms one of the principal duties of the pilgrimage, by far the greater number of the hadjys remained with their baggage, and did not attend it. The sermon is not very long, lasting only from the first dawn till sun-rise; a space of time much shorter of course in this latitude, than in our northern countries. The Salat el Ayd, or the prayer of the feast, is performed at the same time by the whole community according to its rites. When the first rays of the sun shot athwart the cloudy sky, the pilgrims moved on at a slow march towards Wady Muna, one hour distant from hence. On arriving at Wady Muna, each nation encamped upon the spot which custom has assigned to it, at every returning Hadj. After [p.275] disposing of the baggage, the hadjys hastened to the ceremony of throwing stones at the devil. It is said that, when Abraham or Ibrahim returned from the pilgrimage to Arafat, and arrived at Wady Muna, the devil Eblys presented himself before him at the entrance of the valley, to obstruct his passage; when the angel Gabriel, who accompanied the Patriarch, advised him to throw stones at him, which he did, and after pelting him seven times, Eblys retired. When Abraham reached the middle of the valley, he again appeared before him, and, for the last time, at its western extremity, and was both times repulsed by the same number of stones. According to Azraky, the Pagan Arabs, in commemoration of this tradition, used to cast stones in this valley as they returned from the pilgrimage; and set up seven idols at Muna, of which there was one in each of the three spots where the devil appeared, at each of which they cast three stones. Mohammed, who made this ceremony one of the chief duties of the hadjys, increased the number of stones to seven. At the entrance of the valley, towards Mezdelfe, stands a rude stone pillar, or rather altar, between six and seven feet high, in the midst of the street, against which the first seven stones are thrown, as the place where the devil made his first stand: towards the middle of the valley is a similar pillar, and at its western end a wall of stones, which is made to serve the same purpose. The hadjys crowded in rapid succession round the first pillar, called �Djamrat el Awla;� and every one threw seven small stones successively upon it: they then passed to the second and third spots, (called �Djamrat el Owsat,� and �Djamrat el Sofaly,� or �el Akaba,� or �el Aksa,�) where the same ceremony was repeated. In throwing the stones, they are to exclaim, �In the name of God; God is great (we do this) to secure ourselves from the devil and his troops.� The stones used for this purpose are to be of the size of a horse-bean, or thereabouts; and the pilgrims are advised to collect them in the plain of Mezdelfe, but they may likewise take them from Muna; and many people, contrary to the law, collect those that have already been thrown. Having performed the ceremony of casting stones, the pilgrims kill the animals which they bring with them for sacrifice; and all Mohammedans, in whatever part of the world they may be, are bound, at this [p.276] time, to perform the same rite. Between six and eight thousand sheep and goats, under the care of Bedouins, (who demanded high prices for them,) were ready on this occasion. The act of sacrifice itself is subject to no other ceremonies than that of turning the victim�s face towards the Kebly or the Kaaba, and to say, during the act of cutting its throat, �In the name of the most merciful God! O supreme God!� (Bismillah! irrahman irrahhym, Allahou akbar!) Any place may be chosen for these sacrifices, which are performed in every corner of Wady Muna; but the favourite spot is a smooth rock on its western extremity, where several thousand sheep were killed in the space of a quarter of an hour. [Kotobeddyn relates that, when the Khalife Mokteder performed the pilgrimage about A.H. 350, he sacrificed on this day forty thousand camels and cows, and fifty thousand sheep. Even now, persons of wealth kill camels. The slaughtering may be performed by proxy.] As soon as the sacrifices were completed, the pilgrims sent for barbers, or repaired to their shops, of which a row of thirty or forty had been set up near the favourite place of sacrifice. They had their heads shaved, except those who were of the Shafey sect, who shave only one- fourth of the head here, reserving the other three-fourths till they have visited the Kaaba, after returning to Mekka. They threw off the ihram, and resumed their ordinary clothes; those who could afford it putting on new dresses, this being now the day of the feast. So far the Hadj was completed, and all the pilgrims joined in mutual congratulations, and wishes that the performance of this Hadj might be acceptable to the Deity. �Tekabbel Allah!� was heard on all sides, and everybody appeared contented. But this was not quite the case with myself; for all endeavours to find my camels had hitherto proved vain, such were the immense crowds that filled the valley; and while the other hadjys were dressed in their clothes, I was obliged to walk about in my ihram. Fortunately, my purse, which I had hung about my neck according to the pilgrim custom, (the ihram having no pockets,) enabled me to buy a sheep for sacrifice, and pay a barber. It was not till after sun-set that I found out my people, who had encamped on the northern mountain, and had been all the while under great anxiety about me. The pilgrims remain two days more at Muna. Exactly at mid-day, [p.277] on the 11th of Zul Hadj, seven small stones are again thrown against each of the three places where the devil appeared; and the same is done on the 12th of Zul Hadj, so that by the three repeated throwings, each time of twenty-one stones, the number of sixty-three is cast during the three days. Many pilgrims are ignorant of the precise tenor of the law in this respect, as they are of several other points in the ceremonies of the pilgrimage, and either throw early in the morning the stones they should throw at mid-day, or do not throw the number enjoined. After the last throwing on the 12th, the Hadj returns to Mekka in the afternoon. Muna [This name is said to be derived from Adam, who, during his stay in the valley, when God told him to ask a favour, replied, �I ask (ytemuna) for paradise;� and this place received its appellation from the answer. Others say it derived its name from the flowing of blood in the day of sacrifice.] is a narrow valley, extending in a right line from west to east, about fifteen hundred paces in length, and varying in breadth, enclosed on both sides by steep and barren cliffs of granite. Along the middle, on both sides of the way, is a row of buildings, the far greater part in ruins: they belong to Mekkans or Bedouins of the Koreysh, by whom they are either let out, or occupied during the three days of the Hadj, and left empty the rest of the year, when Muna is never inhabited. Some of these are tolerable stone buildings, two stories high; but not more than a dozen of them are kept in complete repair. On the farthest eastern extremity of the valley, stands a good house, belonging to the reigning Sherif of Mekka, in which he usually lives during those days. It was now occupied by the ladies of Mohammed Aly; Sherif Yahya, after throwing off the ihram, having returned to Mekka, where many hadjys also repair immediately after that ceremony; but it is their duty to revisit Muna at noon on the 11th or 12th of this month, in order to throw the stones, as the neglect of this ceremony would render their pilgrimage imperfect. The remainder of those two days they may spend where they please. In the evening of the day of sacrifice, the merchant hadjys usually go to Mekka, that they may unpack whatever merchandize they have brought there. [p.278]In the open space between the Sherif�s house and the habitations of the Mekkans, is situated the mosque called Mesdjed el Kheyf; it is a good solid building, the open square of which is surrounded by a high and strong wall. In the midst of it is a public fountain, with a small dome; and the west side, where the pulpit is placed, is occupied by a colonnade with a triple row of pillars. The mosque is very ancient; it was newly constructed in A.H. 559, by the celebrated Salaheddyn; but it was rebuilt in its present form by Kayd Beg, Sultan of Egypt, in A.H. 874. It is reported, according to Fasy, that at the foot of the mountain behind it, Mohammed received many revelations from heaven, and that Adam was buried in the mosque. Close by it is a reservoir of water, also founded, according to Kotobeddyn, by Kayd Beg; it was now completely dry, as was a similar one where the Syrian Hadj encamped. The want of water at Muna subjected the poorer hadjys to great hardships. Some was brought either from Mezdelife, or from the tank situated beyond Muna, on the road to Mekka, and the skin-full was sold for four piastres. In Fasy�s time, there were fifteen wells of brackish water at Muna: it seems that water may be found at a certain depth in all the country round Mekka. The annexed ground-plan [not included] shows whatever is worthy of notice in the town or village of Muna. [not included] The house of Djeylany, the best that it contained, was constantly crowded by visitors, whom he treated [p.279] sumptuously. The houses of the Kadhy and the rich families of Sakkat, were next to it; and, on the same side of the way, a long, narrow hall had been lately repaired and fitted up, where about fifty Mekkan and Turkish shopkeepers exhibited their wares. The houses of the northern row are almost totally in ruins: the row of shops (No. 16.) on that side were open without any doors. There were, besides, many sheds constructed in the midst of the street, where victuals might be purchased in great abundance, but at exorbitant prices. On the declivity of the mountain to the north, called Djebel Thebeyr, a place is visited by the hadjys, where Abraham, as some accounts inform us, requested permission to offer up his son as a sacrifice. A granite block, cleft in two, is shown here, upon which the knife of Abraham fell, at the moment when the angel Gabriel showed him the ram close by. At the touch of the knife the stone separated in two. It is in commemoration of this sacrifice that the faithful, after the Hadj is completed, slaughter their victims. The commentators on the law, however, do not agree about the person whom Abraham intended to sacrifice. Some state him to have been Yakoub (Jacob), but the far greater number Ismayl. In the immediate neighbourhood of the block is a small cavern, capable of holding four or five persons, where Hadjer (or Hagar) is said to have given birth to Ismayl; this, however, directly contradicts even Mohammedan tradition, which says that Ismayl was born in Syria, and that his mother Hadjer carried him into the Hedjaz, when an infant at her breast; but the small cavern offering itself so conveniently, justified the substitution of Muna for Syria, as a fit birth-place for the father of the Bedouins, more especially as it attracts so many pious donations to the Mekkans, who sit around with outspread handkerchiefs. Where the valley terminates towards Mekka, is a small house of the Sherif, in which he makes his sacrifice, and throws off the ihram. It was mentioned, that in a side-valley leading from this place towards Djebel Nour, stands a mosque called Mesdjed el Ashra, where the followers of Mohammed used to pray; but I did not visit it. According to Azraky, another mosque, called Mesdjed el Kabsh, stood near the cavern; and Fasy says there was one between [p.280] the first and second of the devil�s pillars, which is probably that marked 20 in the plan. To every division of the hadjys, its place of encampment is appointed in Wady Muna, or at Arafat; but the space is here much narrower. The Egyptian Hadj alights near the house of the Sherif, where Mohammed Aly had pitched his tent, in the vicinity of his cavalry. Two large leathern vessels, constantly kept filled with water, were placed in front of his tent, for the use of the hadjys. At a short distance from it, towards the Mesdjed el Kheyf, stood the tent of Soleyman Pasha of Damascus, whose caravan was encamped on the opposite side of the way; before his tent was placed a row of ten field-pieces, which he had brought with him from Damascus. His ammunition had exploded on the way, while the caravan halted at Beder, and fifty people had been killed by the accident; but Mohammed Aly had furnished him with a fresh supply; and the guns were frequently discharged, as were twelve others which stood near Mohammed Aly�s tent. The greatest number of hadjys had encamped without any order, on the rocky and uneven plain behind the village to the north. The tents of the Mekkans were very neatly fitted up; and this being now the feast, men, women, and children were dressed in their best apparel. At night, few people ventured to sleep, on account of thieves, who abound at Muna. A hadjy had been robbed, on the preceding night, of three hundred dollars; and at Arafat several dozen of camels were stolen by the Bedouins: two of the thieves had been pursued and seized, and carried before Mohammed Aly at Muna, who ordered them to be beheaded. Their mutilated bodies lay before his tent the whole of the three days, with a guard, to prevent their friends from taking them away. Such exhibitions create neither horror nor disgust in the breast of an Osmanly; their continual recurrence hardens his feelings, and renders him insensible to the emotions of pity. I heard a Bedouin, probably a friend of the slain, who stood near the bodies, exclaim, �God have mercy upon them; but no mercy upon him who killed them!� The street, which extends the whole length of Muna, was now converted into a market and fair: every inch of ground not built upon, [p.281] was occupied by sheds or booths, made of mats; or by small tents, fitted up as shops. Provisions, and merchandize of every kind, had been brought here from Mekka; and, contrary to the custom in other Mohammedan countries, where all commerce is laid aside during the feast- days, all the merchants, shopkeepers, and brokers, were busily employed in traffic. The merchants who had arrived with the Syrian caravan, began their bargains for Indian goods, and exhibited samples of the articles which they had themselves brought, and which were lying in the warehouses at Mekka. A number of poor hadjys were crying their small adventures, which they carried along the street on their heads; and as all business was confined to this single street, the mixture of nations, costumes, and merchandize, was still more striking than at Mekka. [This pilgrimage among the Pagan Arabs was, at all times, connected with a large fair held at Mekka. In the month before the pilgrimage, they visited some other neighbouring fairs, namely, those of Okath, the market of the tribe of Kenane; of Medjna and Zou el Medjaz; the markets of the tribe of Hodeyl; and of Hasha, that of the Beni Lazed. After having spent their time in amusements at those fairs, they repaired to the Hadj at Arafat, and then returned to Mekka, where another large fair was held (see Azraky). At Arafat and Muna, on the contrary, they scrupulously abstained from any traffic during the days of their sojourning there, and the performance of the holy rites; but the Koran abrogated this observance, and by a passage in chap. ii. permitted trafficking even in the days of the Hadj; at least it has been so explained. (See El Fasy.)] In the afternoon of the first day of Muna, the two Pashas paid mutual visits; and their cavalry man�uvred before their tents. Among the troops of Soleyman Pasha, about sixty Sambarek (Zembourek) attracted notice: these are artillerymen, mounted on camels, having a. small swivel before them, which turned on a pivot fixed to the pommel of the camel�s saddle. They fire while at a trot, and the animal bears the shock of the discharge with great tranquillity. The Syrian cavalry consisted of about fifteen hundred men, principally delhys; no infantry whatever being with the caravan. Soleyman Pasha appeared to-day with a very brilliant equipage; all his body-guards were dressed in richly-embroidered stuffs glittering with gold, and were well mounted, though the Pasha�s own stud was very indifferent. After the two [p.282] Pashas had interchanged visits, their officers followed the example, and were admitted to kiss the hands of the Pashas, when each of them received presents in money, according to his rank. The Kadhy, the rich merchants of Mekka, and the grandees among the hadjys, likewise paid their respects to the Pashas, and each of their visits lasted about five minutes. An immense crowd was, at the same time, assembled in a wide semicircle round their open tents, to witness this brilliant sight. In the afternoon, a body of negro pilgrims, under a leader, made their way through this crowd, and, walking up to Soleyman Pasha, (who sat quite alone, smoking upon a sofa in the recess of his tent,) boldly saluted him, and wished him joy on the accomplishment of the pilgrimage; in return they received some gold coins. They afterwards tried the same experiment with Mohammed Aly Pasha; but received only blows on the back from his officers, in return for their compliments. Among the curiosities which attracted the notice of the crowd, was a curricle belonging to the wife of Mohammed Aly, which stood in the gateway of the Sherif�s house. This lady had carried it on board her ship to Djidda, from whence she rode in it to Mekka and Arafat, her person being, of course, completely concealed; it was drawn by two fine horses, and was seen frequently afterwards parading the streets of Mekka. At night, the whole valley blazed; every house and tent was lighted up; before the tents of the Pashas were fine illuminations; and the Bedouins made large bonfires upon the summits of the mountains. The noise of guns continued throughout the night; fire-works were exhibited; and several of the Mekkans let off rockets. The second day of the feast at Muna was passed in the same manner as the first; but the putrefying carcases of the sheep became excessively offensive in some parts of the valley, as very few of the richer hadjys can consume the victims which they kill. The Hanefys are not even allowed by the laws of their sect to eat more than one-eighth of a sheep. The greater part of the flesh falls to the lot of the poorer hadjys, and the entrails are thrown about the valley [p.283] and the street. The negroes and Indians were employed in cutting some of the meat into slices, and drying it for their travelling provision. [Until the sixteenth century, it was an established rule with the Sultans of Egypt, and afterwards with those of Constantinople, to furnish, at Muna, all the poor hadjys with food at the expense of the royal treasury. The Pagan Arabs distinguished themselves more particularly during the Hadj for their hospitality; and such of them as went on the pilgrimage, were gratuitously entertained by all those whose tents they passed on the road; they having previously prepared for that purpose large supplies of food. (See Kotobeddyn.)--Among the wonders which distinguish Muna from other valleys, El Fasy relates that it occasionally extends its dimensions to accommodate any number of pilgrims; that on the day of sacrifice, no vultures ever carry off the slaughtered lambs, thus leaving them for the poor hadjys; and that, notwithstanding the quantity of raw flesh, no flies ever molest the visiters at this place. That the last remark is false, I can declare from my own experience.] To-day many hadjys performed their prayers in the Mesdjed el Kheyf, which I found crowded with poor Indians, who had taken up their quarters in it. The pavement was thickly spread with carrion; and on cords extended between the columns were suspended slices of meat, for the purpose of being dried. The sight and smell were very disgusting; and many hadjys seemed surprised that such indecencies should be allowed. In general, foreign hadjys see many practices at Mekka, which are not calculated to inspire them with great veneration for the holy places of their religion; and although some may, nevertheless, retain all their religious zeal undiminished, others, we may be assured, lose much of it in consequence of what they witness during the Hadj. It is to this loss of respect for religion, and to the nefarious and shameful practices in some measure legitimatised by their frequent occurrence in the holy city, that we must attribute those proverbs which reflect upon the hadjys as less religious and less trustworthy than any other persons. But our Christian holy-land is liable to some censure, for practices of the same kind. The most devout and rigid Mohammedans acknowledge and deplore the existence of this evil; and prove that they are either more clear-sighted or more sincere than the Christian pilgrim Chateaubriand. [Mons. C. may have had very statesman-like motives for giving in his Itinerary so highly coloured a picture of Palestine and its priesthood; but, as a traveller, he cannot escape blame for having departed from the truth, and often totally misrepresented the facts that fell under his observation.] [p.284]At mid-day on the 12th of Zul Hadj, immediately after having thrown the last twenty-one stones, the hadjys left Muna, and returned along the valley to Mekka, evincing their high spirits by songs, loud talking, and laughter; a contrast to the gloom which affected every body in proceeding here four days ago. On arriving at Mekka, the pilgrims must visit the Kaaba, which in the mean time has been covered with the new black clothing brought from Cairo, walk seven times round it, and perform the ceremony of the Say: this is called the Towaf el Ifadhe. He then takes the ihram once more, in order to visit the Omra; and on returning from the Omra, again performs the Towaf and Say, and with this the ceremony of the Hadj is finally terminated. The principal duties incumbent upon the hadjy are, therefore:--1. that he should take the ihram; 2. be present, on the 9th of Zul Hadj, from afternoon till sun-set, at the sermon preached at Arafat; 3. attend a similar sermon at Mezdelfe, at sun-rise of the 10th of Zul Hadj; 4. on the 10th, 11th, and 12th of Zul Hadj, throw on each day twenty-one stones against the devil�s pillars at Muna; 5. perform the sacrifice at Muna; or, if he is too poor, substitute for it a fast at some future time; and, 6. upon his return to Mekka, visit the Kaaba and the Omra. The law makes so many nice distinctions, and increases so greatly the number of rules which are to guide the pilgrim at every step, that very few can flatter themselves with being quite regular hadjys; but as no ritual police is kept up during the ceremony, every one is completely his own master, and assumes the title of hadjy, whether he has strictly performed all the duties or not. It is enough for such that they have been at Arafat on the proper day--this is the least distinction: but a mere visit to Mekka does not authorise a man to style himself hadjy; and the assumption of this title without some further pretensions, exposes him to ridicule. There is not any formal certificate given to hadjys at Mekka, as at Jerusalem; but many of the great people purchase a few drawings of the town, &c.; annexed to which is an attestation of four witnesses, that the purchasers were [p.285] regular hadjys. If the 9th of Zul Hadj, or the day of El Wakfe, falls upon a Friday, it is held to be particularly fortunate. Some hadjys are anxious to acquire the title of �Khadem el Mesdjed,� or servant of the mosque, which may be obtained at the expense of about thirty dollars; for this sum, a paper, bestowing that appellation upon him, is delivered to the purchaser, signed by the Sherif and Kadhy. It is not uncommon to permit even Christians to obtain the privilege of calling themselves servants of the Mesdjed, and the honour is particularly sought for by the Greek inhabitants of the islands and shores of the Archipelago; as, in case of their being captured by the Barbary pirates, such a certificate is often respected by the most rigid Moggrebyns. I saw a Greek captain who obtained one for two hundred dollars; he had commanded one of Mohammed Aly�s dows, and was now on his way home; and he felt satisfied that, whatever ship he might hereafter take under his charge in the Archipelago, would be secured by this certificate from the pirates. In former times, this title of Khadem appears to have been of more importance than it is now; for I find, in the historians of Mekka, many great people mentioned, who annexed it to their names. After the return of the Hadj from Muna, the principal street of Mekka becomes almost impassable from the crowds assembled there. The Syrian hadjy merchants hire shops, and make the best use of the short time which is granted to them for their commercial transactions. Every body purchases provisions for his journey home; and the pursuit of gain now engrosses all minds, from the highest to the lowest. The two caravans usually leave Mekka about the 23d of Zul Hadj, after ten days� stay in the town. Sometimes the leaders of them are prevailed upon by the merchants, who pay highly for the favour, to grant a respite of a few days; but this year they did not require it, as the caravan was detained by Mohammed Aly, who, preparing to open his campaign against the Wahabys, thought proper to employ about twelve thousand camels of the Syrian Hadj in two journies to Djidda, and one to Tayf, for the transport of provisions. As to the Egyptian caravan, which, as I have already mentioned, contained no private hadjys, it was wholly detained by Mohammed Aly, who ordered all [p.286] the horsemen and camels that had accompanied it, to assist him in his campaign. The Mahmal, or sacred camel, was sent back by sea to Suez, a circumstance which had never before occurred. The Syrian caravan did not leave Mekka till the 29th of Zul Hadj; and the incessant labour to which its camels had been subjected, weakened them so much, that numbers of them died on their return through the Desert. The caravans of unloaded camels which were hourly leaving Mekka for Djidda, to take up provisions there, facilitated the short journey to that place of those hadjys who wished to return home by sea. Having heard that the supply of money for which I had written to Cairo on my first reaching Djidda, had been received there, I rode over in the night of the 1st of December, and remained in that town six or seven days. The hadjys who had, in the mean while, daily flocked into it on their return from Mekka, were seen encamped in every quarter, and thus it soon became as crowded as Mekka had just been. Among the ships in the harbour, ready to take hadjy passengers on board, was a merchant-vessel lately arrived from Bombay, belonging to a Persian house at that presidency, and commanded by an English captain, who had beat up to Djidda against the trade-winds, at this late season. I passed many agreeable hours in the company of Captain Boag, on board his ship, and regretted that my pursuits should call me away so soon. Two other Europeans had arrived at Djidda about the same time, by way of Cairo; the one an Englishman, who was going to India; the other a German physician. This gentleman was a Hanoverian by birth, and a baron: misfortunes of a very distressing nature had driven him from his home, and he had thought of practising his profession at Djidda, or of proceeding to Mokha; but his mind was too unsettled to determine upon any thing; and he was of too independent a character to receive either counsel or assistance. I left him at Djidda when I returned to Mekka, and learnt afterwards that he died there in the month of March, of the plague, and that he was buried by the Greeks of Djidda upon an island in the harbour. When I returned to Mekka, about the 8th or 9th of December, I found no longer the same multitudes of people; but the beggars had [p.287] become so numerous and troublesome, that many of the hadjys preferred staying all day at home, to escape at once the importunities, the expense of acceding to them, or the scandal of wanting charity. These beggars were soliciting alms to carry them home; and their numbers were increased by many pilgrims of respectable appearance, whose money had been spent during the Hadj. It was my intention, in returning to Mekka, to join the Syrian caravan, and travel with it as far as Medina; I therefore, in imitation of some other Syrian pilgrims who had arrived at Mekka before the caravan, engaged with a Bedouin of the Harb tribe for two of his camels; although most of the hadjys, who, after the pilgrimage, visit Mohammed�s tomb at Medina, accompany the Syrian caravan, agreeing with some Mekowem to defray all expenses on the road; but it is better, for many reasons, to travel with Bedouins than with towns-people, especially on a route across the Bedouin territory. An accident, however, prevented me from availing myself of this opportunity. The caravan being ready for departure on the 15th of December, I packed up my effects in the morning, and at noon a gun was fired, to announce that Soleyman Pasha had quitted the plain of Sheikh Mahmoud, where the caravan had been encamped; but still my Bedouin had not arrived. I ran out towards Sheikh Mahmoud, when I understood that a rumour, whether false or true, having been spread, that Mohammed Aly was only waiting to see the camels all assembled in the morning upon the plain, that he might seize and send them to Tayf, several Bedouins had made their escape during the night: it was evident that those with whom I had bargained were among the number. In the hurry and bustle of departure no other camels could possibly be found; and I was therefore obliged to return to the town, together with several Mekkans, who had been disappointed in the same manner. At the moment of starting, the leader of the Damascus caravan always distributes a certain quantity of provision to the poor. Soleyman Pasha had, for this purpose, heaped up two hundred camel-loads near his tent; and when he mounted his horse, at a given signal it was seized upon by those who were waiting, in the most outrageous and [p.288] disorderly manner: a party of about forty negro pilgrims, armed with sticks, secured a considerable part of the heap to themselves. It is usual for the Syrian Hadj to stop two or three days, on its return, in Wady Fatme, the first station from Mekka, to allow the camels some fine pasturage in that neighbourhood; but Soleyman Pasha, who entertained a great distrust of Mohammed Aly, and was particularly fearful lest he should make some further demand upon his caravan for camels, performed an uninterrupted march for two stations, and passed Wady Fatme; thus disappointing many Mekkan shopkeepers, who had repaired thither in hopes of establishing a market for the time. The Pasha became delirious during the journey, and, before he reached Damascus, was put under restraint by his own officers: he recovered his senses at Damascus, but died there soon after. I was obliged to remain at Mekka a whole month after the departure of the Hadj, waiting for another opportunity of proceeding to Medina. I might have easily gone from Djidda, by sea, to Yembo; but I preferred the journey by land. At this time the people of the Hedjaz were kept in anxious suspense, on account of Mohammed Aly, who was preparing to set out from Mekka, in person, against the Wahabys. They knew that, if his expedition should fail, the Bedouins of the Hedjaz would immediately resort to their wonted practices, and cut off the route to the interior from all travellers; and experience had also taught them, that if the Wahabys obtained possession of the country a second time, the town of Mekka alone could indulge in any hope of escaping from being plundered. These considerations retarded the departure of caravans for Medina. A strong caravan usually leaves Mekka on the 11th of Moharrem, (corresponding this year with the 2nd of January, 1815,) the day after the opening of the Kaaba, which always takes place on the 10th of Moharrem, or the day called Ashour. Towards the end of December, the inhabitants were alarmed by a false report of the arrival of a Wahaby force, by the way of the seacoast, from the south: soon after, in the first days of January, 1815, Mohammed Aly set out from Mekka. He met the Wahaby army, four days after, at Byssel, in the neighbourhood of Tayf, where he gained [p.289] the complete victory of which I have elsewhere given the details; this was no sooner known at Mekka, than the caravan for Medina, which had long been prepared, set out, on the 15th of January. After the Syrian Hadj had departed, and the greater part of the other pilgrims retired to Djidda, waiting for an opportunity to embark, Mekka appeared like a deserted town. Of its brilliant shops, one-fourth only remained; and in the streets, where a few weeks before it was necessary to force one�s way through the crowd, not a single hadjy was seen, except solitary beggars, who raised their plaintive voices towards the windows of the houses which they supposed to be still inhabited. Rubbish and filth covered all the streets, and nobody appeared disposed to remove it. The skirts of the town were crowded with the dead carcases of camels, the smell from which rendered the air, even in the midst of the town, offensive, and certainly contributed to the many diseases now prevalent. Several hundreds of these carcases lay near the reservoirs of the Hadj, and the Arabs inhabiting that part of Mekka never walked out without stuffing into their nostrils small pieces of cotton, which they carried suspended by a thread round the neck. [The Arabs in general, even the Bedouins, are much more sensitive than the Europeans concerning the slightest offensive smell. This is one of the principal reasons why the Bedouins never enter a town without repugnance. They entertain a belief that bad smells affect the health by entering through the nostrils into the lungs; and it is for this reason, more than for the disagreeable sensation itself arising from the smell, that Arabs and Bedouins are often seen covering their noses with the skirts of their turbans, in walking through the streets.] But this was not all. At this time the Mekkans are in the habit of emptying the privies of their houses; and, too lazy to carry the contents beyond the precincts of the town, they merely dig a hole in the street, before the door of the dwelling, and there deposit them, covering the spot only with a layer of earth. The consequences of such a practice may easily be imagined. The feasts of nuptials and circumcision now take place, being always celebrated immediately after the Hadj, as soon as the Mekkans are left to themselves, and before the people have had time to spend the sums gained during the residence of the pilgrims; but I saw many [p.290] more funerals than nuptial processions. Numbers of hadjys, already ill from the fatigues of the road, or from cold caught while wearing the ihram, are unable to proceed on their journey homewards; they remain in the hope of recovering strength, but often terminate their existence here. If they have some companion or relative with them, he carries off the dead man�s property, on paying a fee to the Kadhy; if he is alone, the Kadhy and Sherif are his heirs, and these inheritances are no inconsiderable source of income. When I quitted Mekka, there were still remaining there perhaps a thousand hadjys, many of whom intended to pass a whole year in the holy city, and to be present at another Hadj; others to protract their residence only for a few months. On the day of quitting Mekka, it is thought becoming to pay a parting visit to the Kaaba, called Towaf el Wodaa, and to perform the Towaf and Say. The hadjys generally do it when every thing is ready for departure, and mount their camels the moment they have finished the ceremony. [p.291]JOURNEY FROM MEKKA TO MEDINA. ON the 15th of January, 1815, I left Mekka with a small caravan of hadjys, who were going to visit the tomb of the prophet: it consisted of about fifty camels, the property of some Bedouins of the Ryshye and Zebeyde tribes, who either accompanied their beasts themselves, or had sent slaves with them. I had hired two camels, to carry myself and my slave and baggage; and, as is customary in the Hedjaz, I had paid the money in advance, at the rate of one hundred and eighty piastres per camel. My late cicerone, with whom I had every reason to be satisfied, though not quite free from those professional vices already mentioned, accompanied me out of town, as far as the plain of Sheikh Mahmoud, where the camels had assembled, and from whence the caravan started at nine o�clock in the evening. The journey to Medina, like that between Mekka and Djidda, is performed by night, which renders it much less profitable to the traveller, and, in winter time, much less comfortable than it would be by day. Having proceeded an hour and a quarter, [I had bought a watch at Mekka, and had obtained a good compass from the English ship at Djidda.] we passed the Omra thus far the road is paved in several parts with large stones, particularly on the ascents. We passed through valleys of firm sand, between irregular chains of low hills, where some shrubs and stunted acacia-trees grow. The road, with few exceptions, was perfectly level. [p.292]At five hours from Mekka, we passed a ruined building called El Meymounye, with the tomb of a saint, the dome of which was demolished by the Wahabys. Near it is a well of sweet water, and a small birket, or reservoir, built of stone: a little building annexed to the tomb serves as a sort of khan for travellers. For the first six hours from Mekka our road lay N.W., when we turned a steep hill, which caravans cannot cross, and proceeded N.N.W. to Wady Fatme, which we reached at the end of eight hours from Mekka, just at the first appearance of dawn. January 16th. We alighted on the spot where the pilgrim caravans repose on the day before they reach Mekka, in a part of the valley of Fatme, called Wady Djemmoum. Wady Fatme is low ground, abounding in springs and wells; it extends in an E.N.E. direction to the distance of four or five hours, until it nearly joins Wady Lymoun. To the west of our resting- place, it terminates at about an hour and a half�s distance, being about six hours in its whole length. The most western point is called Medoua. On the western side are the principal plantations; to the east it is cultivated in a few spots only. It presented to the view on that side a plain of several miles in breadth, covered with shrubs, and flanked on both sides by low barren hills or elevated ground; but towards its eastern extremity it is said to be very well cultivated. Wady Fatme has different appellations in different parts; but the whole is commonly known to the people of Djidda and Mekka by the name of El Wady, or the valley. By the Arabian historians it is usually called Wady Merr. Between Wady Fatme and Hadda, (the station so named on the Djidda road,) are the two places, called Serouat and Rekany. (See Asamy.) The cultivated grounds in Wady Fatme contain principally date-trees, which supply the markets of the two neighbouring towns; and vegetables, which are carried every night, on small droves of asses, to Mekka and Djidda. Wheat and barley are also cultivated in small quantities. The Wady being well supplied with water, might easily be rendered more productive than it now is; but the Hedjaz people are generally averse to all manual labour. Near the place where we alighted, runs a small rivulet, coming from the eastward, about three [p.293] feet broad, and two feet deep, and flowing in a subterranean channel cased with stone, which is uncovered for a short space where the caravans take their supply of water, which is much more tepid than that of the Zemzem at Mekka, and is much better tasted. Close by are several ruined Saracen buildings and a large khan; and here also, according to Fasy, stood formerly a Mesdjed called El Fath. Among the date-groves are some Arab huts belonging to the cultivators of the soil, chiefly of the Lahyan tribe; the more wealthy of them belong to the tribe of the Sherifs of Mekka, called Dwy Barakat, who live here like Bedouins, in tents and huts. They have a few cattle; their cows, like all those of the Hedjaz, are small, and have a hump on their shoulders. Wady Fatme is also distinguished for its numerous henna-trees, with the odoriferous flowers of which, reduced to powder, the people of the East dye the palms of the hands, the soles of the feet, or the nails of both. The henna of this valley is sold at Mekka to the hadjys in small red leathern bags; and many of them carry some of it home, as a present to their female relations. I think it probable that the Oaditæ of Ptolemy were the inhabitants of this valley, (Wady, Oadi). We found at our halting-place a party of about twenty servants and camel-drivers belonging to the Turkish army at Mekka, who had left that place secretly to escape the embargo laid by Mohammed Aly upon all persons of their description. They were without any provisions, and had very little money; but hearing that there was a caravan to start for Medina, they thought they should be able to accompany it thither. Some of them, who were Egyptians, intended to go to Yembo; others, who were Syrians, had formed the plan of returning home through the Desert by the Hedjaz route, and of begging their way along the Bedouin encampments, not having money enough to pay for their passage by sea to Suez. We left our resting-place at three o�clock P.M., and were one hour in crossing the Wady to its northern side; from whence the Hadj road, on which we travelled, rises gently between hills, through valleys full of acacia-trees, in a direction N. 40 W. The rock is all granite of the [p.294] gray and red species. At the end of two hours, the country opens, the trees diminish, and the course changes to N. 55 W. Towards sun-set I had walked a little way in front of the caravan, and being tired, sat down under a tree to wait its approach; when five Bedouins crept along the bushes towards me, and suddenly snatched up my stick, the only weapon which was lying on the ground behind me. Their leader said that I was, no doubt, a deserter from the Turkish army, and therefore their lawful prize. I offered no resistance; but seeing them much less determined than Bedouin robbers generally are, I concluded that they were not free from fear. I told them, therefore, that I was a hadjy, and belonged to a large caravan escorted by Harb Bedouins; that they might wait a little before they stopped me, to assure themselves of this fact by the arrival of the caravan; and that they had better not offer me any violence, as our guides would no doubt know the perpetrators, and would report it to those who had the power to punish them. I felt assured that they had no intention of doing me any bodily harm, and was under no apprehension, especially as I had only a travelling dress and a few dollars to lose, should the worst happen. One of them, an old man, advised his comrades to wait a little; for that it would not be well to incur the consequences of robbing a hadjy. During our parley, I looked impatiently for the caravan coming in sight; but it had stopped behind for a quarter of an hour, to allow the travellers time to perform the evening prayers, a daily practice among them, of which. I was yet ignorant. This delay was very much against me, and I expected every moment to be stripped, when, the tread of the camels being at last heard, the Bedouins retreated as suddenly as they had approached. Although the road from Mekka to Medina was considered safe even for caravans unarmed like ours, yet stragglers are always exposed; and had it not been for the terror with which, a few days before, Mohammed Aly�s victory over the Wahabys had inspired all the neighbouring Bedouins, I should probably have been punished for my imprudence in walking on alone. We rode the greater part of the night, over a plain more gravelly than sandy, where some ashour trees [p.295] grow among the acacias, the same species (Asclepia gigantea) which I have so often mentioned in my Nubian Travels. This ground is called El Barka. After a seven hours� march, we stopped at El Kara. January 17th. We slept a few hours during the night, a circumstance that seldom occurred on this journey. El Kara is a black, flinty plain, with low hills at a great distance to the east: it bears a few thorny trees, but affords no water. I was struck by its great resemblance to the Nubian Desert, south of Shigre. Although in the midst of winter, the heat was intense the whole morning of our stay at Kara. Nobody in the caravan had a tent, and I was more exposed than any person; all the others being mounted on a shebrye, or shekdof, a sort of covered camel- saddle, which affords some shelter from the sun, both while on the camel, and when placed on the ground: the shebrye serves for one person, and the shekdof for two-one sitting on each side of the camel. But I had always preferred the open seat upon a loaded camel, as more commodious, besides being more Arablike, and affording the advantage of mounting or dismounting without the aid of the driver, and without stopping the animal; which it is very difficult to effect with those machines on their back, especially the shekdof, where both riders must keep continually balancing each other. I formed to-day a closer acquaintance with my fellow-travellers; for, in small caravans, every one endeavours to be upon friendly terms with his companions. They were Malays, or, as they are called in the Levant, Jawas; and, with the exception of a few of them, who came from the coast of Malacca, all British subjects, natives of Sumatra, Java, and the coast of Malabar. The Malays come regularly to the Hadj, and often bring their women with them, three of whom were in our caravan. Many remain for years at Mekka, to study the Koran and the law, and are known among the Indians in the Hedjaz as scrupulous adherents to the precepts, or at least to the rites, of their religion. Few of them talk Arabic fluently; but they all read the Koran, and, even when travelling, are engaged in studying it. They defray the expenses of their journey by selling aloe- wood, the best kind of which, called Ma Wardy, they told me, cost, in their country, [p.296] between three and four dollars per pound, and sells at Mekka at between twenty and twenty-five dollars. Their broad, long features, and prominent forehead, their short but stout stature, and their decayed teeth, which present a striking contrast to the pearly teeth of the Arabs, every where distinguish them, although they wear the common Indian dress. Their women, who all went unveiled, wore robes and handkerchiefs of striped silk stuff, of Chinese manufacture. They appeared to be people of very sober habits and quiet demeanour, but avaricious in the extreme; and their want of charity was sufficiently proved by their treatment of the destitute fugitives who had joined the caravan at Wady Fatme. They lived, during the whole journey, upon rice and salted fish: they boiled the rice in water, without any butter, a dear article in the Hedjaz, but which they did not dislike; for several of them begged my slave to give them secretly some of mine, for seasoning their dish. As they were people of property, avarice alone could be the motive for this abstemious diet; but they were sufficiently punished by the curses of the Bedouins, who had, of course, expected to partake of their dinners, and could not be prevailed upon to swallow the watery rice. Their copper vessels were all of Chinese manufacture, and instead of the abrik, or pot, which the Levantines use in washing and making their ablutions, they carried with them Chinese tea-pots. During this journey, I had frequent opportunities of learning the opinion entertained by these Malays of the government and manners of the English, their present masters; they discovered a determined rancour and hostile spirit towards them, and greatly reviled their manners, of which, however, the worst they knew was, that they indulged too freely in wine, and that the sexes mixed together in social intercourse; none, however, impeached the justice of the government, which they contrasted with the oppression of their native princes; and although they bestowed upon the British the same opprobrious epithets with which the fanatic Moslims every where revile Europeans, they never failed to add, �but their government is good.� I have overheard many similar conversations among the Indians at Djidda and Mekka, and also among the Arabian sailors who [p.297] trade to Bombay and Surat; the spirit of all which was, that the Moslims of India hate the English, though they love their government. We left our resting-place at ten o�clock P.M., and proceeded over the plain of Kara, in a direction N. 40 W. At the end of three hours we passed a ruined building called Sebyl el Kara, where a well, now filled up, formerly supplied the passengers with water. I saw no hills to the west, as far as my eyes could reach. The plain is here overgrown with some trees and thick shrubs. We continued to cross it till six hours, where it closes; and the road begins to ascend slightly through a broad woody valley: here is situated Bir Asfán, a large, deep well, lined with stone, with a spring of good water in the bottom. This is a station of the Hadj. There is another way from Wady Fatme to Asfan, four miles to the eastward of our route. We passed the well without stopping. Samhoudy, the historian of Medina, mentions a village at Asfan, with a spring called Owla; there is now no village here. At seven hours begins a very narrow ascending passage between rocks, affording room for only one camel. The torrents which rush down through this passage in winter have entirely destroyed the road, and filled it with large, sharp blocks of stone; the Hadj route seemed, in several places, to be cut out of the rock, but the night was too dark for seeing any thing distinctly. At the end of eight hours we reached the top of this defile, where a small building stands, perhaps the tomb of a Sheikh. From hence we rode over a wide plain, sometimes sandy, and in other parts a mixture of sand and clay, where trees and shrubs grow. At fourteen hours, near the break of dawn, we passed a small Bedouin encampment, and alighted, at the end of fifteen hours, in the neighbourhood of a village called Kholeys. We had made several short halts during the night, and kindled fires to warm ourselves. Kholeys stands upon a wide plain, in several parts of which date-groves are seen, with fields, where dhourra, bemye, and dokken are cultivated. Several hamlets appear scattered about, which are comprised in the general name of Kholeys; the largest is called Es-Souk, or the market- place, near which the Hadj encamps. A small rivulet, tepid, like that in Wady Fatme, rises near the Souk, and is collected [p.298] on the outside of the village in a small birket, now ruined, and then waters the plain. Near the birket there are also the ruins of a sebyl. [A sebyl is a small, open building, often found by the side of fountains; in these sebyls travellers pray, and take their repose.] According to Kotobeddyn, the birket and sebyl were built by Kayd Beg, Sultan of Egypt, about A.H. 885. At that time, Kholeys had its own Emir, who was a very powerful person in the Hedjaz. I saw plenty of cattle, cows, and sheep; but the Arabs complained that their plantations suffered from drought, no rain having yet fallen, though the season was far advanced. The water from the rivulet did not appear sufficient to irrigate all the cultivated grounds, and the supply was even less than it might have been, as half of the water was suffered, through negligence, to escape from the narrow channels. The village Es-Souk contains about fifty houses, all built of mud, and very low: its main street is lined with shops, kept by the people of Kholeys, and frequented by all the neighbouring Bedouins. The principal article for sale was dates, with which most of the shops were filled; in the others were sold dhourra, barley, lentils and onions, (both from Egypt,) rice, and some other articles of provision; but no wheat, that grain being little used by the Bedouins of this country: there were also spices, a few drugs, the bark of a tree for tanning the water-skins, and some butter. Milk was not to be found, for no one likes to be called a milk-seller. A tolerably well-built mosque stands by the rivulet, near some gigantic sycamore trees. I found in it two negro hadjys from Darfour; they had, the night before, been stripped on the road of a few piastres, earned at Mekka: one of them having attempted to defend himself, had been severely beaten; and they now intended to go back to Djidda, and endeavour to retrieve their loss by a few months� labour. One of the Bedouins who had stripped them, was smoking his pipe in the village; but they had not the means of proving the robbery against him, nor of obtaining justice. Kholeys is the chief seat of the Arab tribe of Zebeyd, a branch of Beni Harb, and the residence of their Sheikh. The greater part of them are Bedouins; and many even of those who cultivate the ground, pass some part of the [p.299] year under tents in the Desert, for the purpose of pasturing their cattle upon the wild herbage. A few families of Beni Amer, (or Aamer, [The Beni Aamer must not be confounded with Amer, another tribe of Harb.]) another branch of Harb, are mixed with this tribe at Kholeys. Before the Turkish conquest, the usual currency at this market was dhourra; at present, piastres and paras are taken. Kholeys often sends small caravans to Djidda, which is two long days� journeys, or three caravan journeys distant. I was told that the neighbouring mountains were well peopled with Bedouins. About three hours distant, in a N.E. direction, is a fertile valley called Wady Khowar, known for its numerous plantations of bananas, by which the fruit-markets of Mekka and Djidda are supplied. January 18th. Having filled our water-skins, we set out at three o�clock, P.M. Our road lay N. 20 E. over the plain. In two hours we came to a high hill, called Thenyet Kholeys, the steep side of which was deeply covered with sand, through which our camels ascended with difficulty. Some ancient ruins of a large building stand on its top, and the road on both sides of the hill is lined with walls, to prevent too great an accumulation of the sand. It was covered with carcases of camels, the relics of the late Hadj caravans. On descending the other side, a plain extended before us to the north and east, as far as the eye could reach. To the E.N.E. high mountains were visible, distant between twenty and thirty miles. Descending into the plain, we took the direction N. 10 W. At three hours and a half the plain, which thus far had been firm gravel, changed into deep sand, with tarfa (or tamarisk) trees, which delight particularly in sand, and in the driest season, when all vegetation around them is withered, never lose their verdure. It is one of the most common productions of the Arabian Desert, from the Euphrates to Mekka, and is also frequent in the Nubian deserts: its young leaves form an excellent food for camels. At four hours and a quarter, we found the road covered with a saline crust, indicating the neighbourhood of the sea; from hence, our course was in various directions. According to the usual practice in the Hedjaz, the camels walk in [p.300] a single row--those behind tied to the tails of those that precede them. The Arab, riding foremost, was to lead the troop; but he frequently fell asleep, as well as his companions behind; and his camel then took its own course, and often led the whole caravan astray. After a twelve hours� march, we alighted at the Hadj station called Kolleya, and also Kobeyba. Every spot in the plains of Arabia is known by a particular name; and it requires the eye and experience of a Bedouin to distinguish one small district from another: for this purpose, the different species of shrubs and pasturage produced in them by the rains, are of great assistance; and whenever they wish to mention a certain spot to their companions, which happens to have no name, they always designate it by the herbs that grow there; as, for instance, Abou Shyh, Abou Agál, &c. About two hours distant from the spot where we rested, to the north- east, is water, with a small date-grove. I heard that the sea was from six to eight hours distant. The mountains continued to be seen between twenty and thirty miles on the east; their summits sharp, and presenting steep and insulated peaks. They are inhabited by the tribe of Ateybe, which in the seventeenth century, according to Asamy, also inhabited Wady Fatme. In the morning some Bedouin women appeared, with a few starved herds of sheep and goats, which were searching for the scanty herbage. No rain had fallen in the plain, and every shrub was withered; yet these Bedouins did not dare to seek for better pasturage in the neighbouring mountains, which did not belong to the territory of their tribe; for, whenever there is a drought, the limits of each territory are rigorously watched by the shepherds. I went out with several of the Malays to meet the women, and to ask them for some milk; the Malays had taken money with them to buy it; and I had filled my pockets with biscuit, for the same purpose. They refused to take the money, saying they were not accustomed to sell milk; but when I made them a present of the biscuits, they filled my wooden bowl in return. During the passage of the Hadj, these poor Bedouins fly in all directions, knowing the predatory habits of the soldiers who escort the caravan. January 19th. We left Kolleya at half-past one o�clock P.M., and [p.301] proceeded over the plain. In three hours, we came to low hills of moving sand; at four hours, to a stony plain, with masses of rock lying across the road: direction N. 25 W. At the end of nine hours, we halted during the night near the village of Rabegh, our road having been constantly level. Three or four hamlets, little distant from each other, are all comprised under this appellation; the principal of which, like that of Kholeys, is distinguished by the additional name of Es-Souk, or the market-place. The neighbouring plain is cultivated, and thick plantations of palm-trees render Rabegh a place of note on this route. Amongst the palm-trees grow a few tamarinds, or Thamr Hindy, the green fruit of which was now sufficiently ripe and pleasant. A few of these trees likewise grow at Mekka. Some rain had fallen here lately, and the ground was, in many parts, tilled. The ploughs of those Arabs, which are drawn by oxen or camels, resemble those delineated by Niebuhr, and which are, I believe, generally used in the Hedjaz and. Yemen. [I cannot conceive what could have led Ptolemy to place a river in the direction between Mekka and Yembo, as certainly no river empties itself into the sea any where in the Hedjaz. In winter time, many torrents rush down from the mountains.] Rabegh possesses the advantage of a number of wells, the water of which is, however, but indifferent: its vicinity to the sea, which, as I heard, was six or seven miles distant, though the view of it was hid by palm-groves, causes the coast of Rabegh to be visited by many country ships that are in want of water. The Bedouins of this coast are active fishermen, and bring hither from the more distant ports their salted fish; a quantity of which may always be found in the market, where it is bought up by the Arab ships� crews, who consume a great part of it, and carry the rest to Egypt or Djidda. The inhabitants of Rabegh are of the above-mentioned Harb tribes of Aamer and Zebeyd, principally the latter. In the opposite mountains, to the east, live the Beni Owf, another tribe of Harb. The hadjys passing by sea from Egypt to Djidda, are obliged to take the ihram opposite to Rabegh, which they may do either on shore, or on board snip. An accident occurred here, which showed in the strongest light the total want of charity in our companions the Malays. There were several poorer Malays, who, unable to pay for the hire of a camel, followed [p.302] their comrades on foot; but as our night journeys were long, these men came in sometimes an hour or two after we had alighted in the morning. To-day one of them was brought in under an escort of two Bedouins of the tribe of Owf, who told us that they had found him straying in the Desert, and that he had promised them twenty piastres if they would guide him to the caravan, and that they expected his friends would make up this sum, the man, as they saw, being himself quite destitute of money. When they found that none of our party showed any inclination to pay even the smallest part of this sum, and that all of them disclaimed any knowledge or acquaintance with the man, who, they said had joined the caravan at starting from Mekka without his person being in the least known to them, the Bedouins declared that they should take the little clothing he had upon him, and keep him a prisoner in their tents till some other Malays should pass, who might release him. When the caravan was preparing to start, they seized him, and carried him off a short distance towards the wood. He was so terrified that he had lost the power of speech, and permitted himself to be led away, without making the slightest resistance. Our own guides were no match for the Owf, a tribe much dreaded for its warlike and savage character; there was no judge in the village of Rabegh, to whose authority an appeal might be made; and the two Bedouins had a legitimate claim upon their prisoner. I should have performed no great act of generosity in paying his ransom myself; but I thought that this was a duty incumbent upon his countrymen the Malays, and therefore used all my endeavours to persuade them to do it. I really never met with such hard-hearted, unfeeling wretches; they unanimously declared that they did not know the man, and were not bound to incur any expense on his account. The camels were loaded; they had all mounted, and the leader was on the point of starting, when the miserable object of the dispute broke out in loud lamentations. I had waited for this moment. Relying on the respect I enjoyed in the caravan from being supposed a hadjy in some measure attached to Mohammed Aly�s army, and the good-will of our guides, which I had cultivated by distributing victuals liberally amongst them ever since we left Mekka, I seized the leader�s camel, made it couch down, and exclaimed, that the [p.303] caravan should not proceed till the man was released. I then went from load to load, and partly by imprecating curses on the Malays and their women, and partly by collaring some of them, I took from every one of their camels twenty paras, (about three pence,) and, after a long contest, made up the twenty piastres. This sum I carried to the Bedouins who had remained at a distance with their prisoner, and representing to them his forlorn state, and appealing to the honour of their tribe, induced them to take ten piastres. According to true Turkish maxims, I should have pocketed the other ten, as a compensation for my trouble; I, however, gave them to the poor Malay, to the infinite mortification of his countrymen. The consequence was, that, during the rest of the journey, they entirely discarded him from their party, and he was thrown upon my hands, till we arrived at Medina, and during his residence there. I intended to have provided him with the means of returning to Yembo, but I fell dangerously ill soon after my arrival at Medina, and know not what afterwards became of him. Several pilgrims were begging for charity in the market of Rabegh. These poor people, in starting from Mekka for Medina with the great caravan, fancy that they are sufficiently strong to bear the fatigues of that journey, and know that, in travelling with the caravan, charitable hadjys are to be found who will supply them with food and water; but the long night-marches soon exhaust their strength, they linger behind on the road, and, after great privations and delays, are obliged to proceed on their journey by other opportunities. An Afghan pilgrim here joined our party; he was an old man, of very extraordinary strength, and had come the whole way from Kaboul to Mekka on foot, and intended to return in the same manner. I regretted his slight acquaintance with Arabic, as he seemed an intelligent man, and could no doubt have given me some interesting information respecting his country. January 20th. We left Rabegh at four P.M. Our road lay N. 8 W., in most parts of black flint, interspersed with some hills of sand, upon which were a few trees. Having enjoyed no repose whatever for the last two days, I fell asleep upon my camel, and can only say, that after a ride of eleven hours, over hilly and sandy ground, we alighted at [p.304] Mastoura, a station of the Hadj. Two large and deep wells, cased with stone, afford here a copious supply of good water. Near them stood the tomb of a saint called Sheikh Madely, which had been demolished by the Wahabys. About ten miles east of this is a high mountain, called Djebel Ayoub, �Job�s Mountain,� overtopping the other summits of the chain of which it forms a part, and covered in many spots with trees. It is inhabited by the Owf tribe. The whole road from Kolleya to this place is dangerous on account of the robberies of these Bedouins; and the caravan never passes without losing some of its loads or camels. In the time of the Wahabys it was completely secure; the Sheikhs of the Harb, and the whole tribe being made responsible for all depredations committed in their territory. The Wahabys, however, had not been able to subdue the Owf in their own mountains; and a proof of their independence appeared in the long hair which this tribe wore, contrary to the Wahaby precept, which had established it as a universal law to shave the head bare. We found, at the wells of Mastoura, several flocks of camels and sheep, which the Owf shepherds and shepherdesses were watering. I bought from them a lamb for a few piastres and some tobacco, and divided it among our guides and those who accompanied us on foot. The Malays came to ask me for their share, giving me to understand that their compliance with my entreaties in favour of their poor countryman, was deserving of reward; but the Bedouins who were with us, saved me, by their taunting reprimands, the trouble of answering them. Several tombs of hadjys were seen near the wells, which the Wahabys had respected; for they seldom injured any tombs that pride or bigotry had left unadorned. January 21st. We set out at three o�clock P.M. The plain we crossed is either flinty, or presents spots of cultivable clay. The direction was north. After proceeding over a sandy plain, covered with low brush-wood for two hours and a half, we had Djebel Ayoub about six miles distant: then begins a lower ridge of mountains, running parallel to the road. Here we quitted the great Hadj route, which turns off in a more westerly direction, and we proceeded towards the mountains N. 15 E. to reach Szafra by the nearest route. After a [p.305] march of thirteen hours, over uneven ground and low hills, we halted near day-break, in a sandy plain, by the well called Bir-es�- Sheikh. It will have been observed, that our night marches were always very long; but the rate of the camel�s walk was very slow, scarcely more than two miles an hour, or two and a quarter. Bir-es�-Sheikh is a well between thirty and forty feet deep, and fifteen feet in diameter, solidly cased with stone; the work of men who felt more anxiety for the convenience of travellers to the holy cities, than the present chiefs of the faithful evince. If pressed for time, the Hadj sometimes takes this route; but it goes usually by Beder, where the Egyptian and Syrian caravans, on their road to Mekka, follow each other, at the interval of one day or two, their time of setting out upon the journey invariably taking place on fixed days. We were now close to the great chain, which, since we left Kholeys, had been on our right: a ridge of it, a few miles north of Bir-es�-Sheikh, takes a westerly direction towards the sea, and at its extremity lies Beder. We met Bedouins at this well also; they were of the tribe of Beni Salem, or Sowaleme: our guides bought a sheep of them, and roasted it in the Medjba, a hole dug in the sand, and lined with small stones, which are heated; the flesh is laid upon them, and then covered by cinders and the wet skin of the animal, and closely shut up with sand and clay. In an hour and a half the meat is cooked, and, as it loses none of its juices, has an excellent flavour. January 22nd. We left the well at half-past three P.M. Route N. 10 W. ascending over uneven ground. In an hour and a half we entered the mountains, at the angle formed by the great chain on one side, and the above-mentioned branch, which extends towards Beder, on the other. From hence we continued N.N.E. in valleys of sandy soil, full of detached rocks. High mountains with sharp-pointed summits, and entirely barren, enclosed the road on both sides. The Eastern mountain, which here runs parallel with it, is called Djebel Sobh; the territory of the powerful tribe of Beni Sobh, a branch of the Beni Harb. Their mountains contain many fertile valleys, where date-trees grow, and some dhourra is sown. It is here that the Mekka balsam-tree is principally found, and the Senna Mekka, or Arabian [p.306] senna, which the Syrian caravan exports, is collected exclusively in this district. The passage into the interior parts of this mountain is described as very difficult, and could never be forced by the Wahabys. Numerous families of the other tribes of Harb had retreated thither, with all their goods and cattle, from the arms of Saoud; and while all the Hedjaz Bedouins submitted to the Wahaby dominion, the Sobh was the only tribe which successfully defended their territory, and boldly asserted their independence. After a march of six hours and a half, the road began to ascend among low rocky hills. At seven hours and a half we entered Wady Zogág, a narrow valley of gentle ascent, full of loose stones, and overgrown with acacia-trees. In proceeding up, it grew narrower, the path became steeper, and more difficult for the camels. At the end of thirteen hours, we came to level ground at its top, and there entered the valley of Es� Szafra, close by the village of the same name, at which we alighted. January 23d. Our camels being tired, having found very little food on the road, though they always had the whole morning to pasture, and several of them threatening to break down, the drivers stopped here the whole day. Like the before-mentioned Bedouin villages, Szafra is a market-place for all the surrounding tribes: its houses are built on the declivity of the mountain, and in the valley, which is narrow, leaving scarcely room enough for the date-groves which line both sides of it. A copious rivulet flows down the valley, the water of which is dispersed among the date-trees, and irrigates some cultivated fields in the wider parts of the windings of this valley. Wheat, dhourra, barley, and dokhen are sown here; of vegetables the Badendján, or egg-plant, Meloukhye onions and radishes are cultivated; and vines, lemon, and banana-trees abound. The soil is every where sandy, but rendered fertile by irrigation: copious rains had fallen three days since in the mountains, and a torrent twenty feet broad, and three or four feet deep, was still flowing. The date-groves extend about four miles; they belong to the inhabitants of Szafra, as well as of neighbouring Bedouins, who keep some of their own people, or Arab labourers, employed in irrigating the grounds, and repair hither themselves when [p.307] the dates are ripe. The date-trees pass from one person to another in the course of trade, and are sold by the single tree; the price paid to a girl�s father on marrying her, consists often in date- trees. They all stand in deep sand, which is collected from the middle parts of the valley, and heaped up round their root, and must be renewed annually, as the torrents usually wash it away. Every small grove is enclosed by a mud or stone wall; the cultivators inhabit several hamlets, or insulated houses, scattered among the trees. The houses are low, and generally have only two rooms, and there is a small court-yard for the cattle. Several springs of running water, and many wells, are found in the gardens; the principal rivulet has its source in a grove close to the market; a small Mesdjed or mosque is built beside it, and it is overshadowed by a few large wild chesnut-trees. I saw no others of that species in the Hedjaz. Here, too, the water of the spring was tepid, but in a less degree than at Rabegh and Kholeys. The inhabitants of this valley, the name of which is celebrated in the Hedjaz for the abundance of its dates, are of the Beni Salem tribe, the most numerous branch of Harb, and, like most other tribes of the Hedjaz, partly Bedouins and partly settled inhabitants; the latter remaining in their houses and gardens the whole year round, though they dress and live in the same manner as their brethren under tents. The Wahaby chief had been aware of the importance of this station; and having succeeded, after a long resistance, in overpowering the Beni Harb, who held the key of the Northern Hedjaz, [In this enterprise he was assisted by Medheyan, formerly a chief of Harb, who had been deprived of his post by Djezy, a fortunate rival. Medheyan was afterwards treacherously seized by the Turks at Medina, and beheaded at Constantinople; and Djezy, a friend of Mohammed Aly, was killed by the Turkish governor of Medina, for having spoken too highly of his services.] thought it necessary to keep a watchful eye over this valley, and there built several strong block- houses or towers, in which the collectors of his revenues resided, and where they deposited the taxes collected from the valley. All these Bedouins were decidedly hostile to the Wahaby system: even now, though free from their yoke, they load them with as many reproaches, [p.308] as the Mekkans bestow praises on them. Before the Wababy invasion, the Beni Harb had never known a master, nor had the produce of their fields ever been taxed. The Sherif of Mekka certainly assumed a nominal supremacy over them; but they were in fact completely independent, and their Sheikhs seconded the Sherif�s views so far only as they were thought beneficial, or of pecuniary advantage to their own people. The latter now complained greatly of the heavy taxation imposed by the Wahabys, and said that, besides the money they were obliged to pay into Saoud�s treasury, the chief of all the Wahaby Sheikhs of the Hedjaz, Othman el Medheyfe, had extorted from them many additional sums. I thought the accuracy of this information doubtful; for I knew that the Wahaby chief had always shown particular care in preventing such acts of injustice in his officers, and punished those who were guilty. They also told me that not only had their gardens and plantations been taxed, but the very water with which they irrigated them had been assessed at a yearly sum. The dress of the people of Szafra consists of a shirt, and a short gown of coarse Indian coloured calico, over which they wear a white abba of light texture, the same as that worn by the Bedouins of the Euphrates, near Aleppo, and which is similar to the dress of all the Beni Harb who have become settlers; while the Bedouins of the tribe wear the brown and white striped abba. The profits which they derive from the passage of caravans, and their petty dealings, seem to have had a baneful influence upon their character, for they cheat as much as they can: they are, however, not destitute of commiseration and hospitality towards the poor hadjys, who, in their passage, contrive to collect from the shops as much as is necessary for their daily food. We here met several poor pilgrims on their way to Medina, who had nothing to subsist upon but what they obtained from the generosity of the Bedouins on the road. This was not the first time that I reflected how ill had been applied the splendid liberality of many Khalifes and Sultans, who, while they enriched Mekka and Medina, and spent enormous sums to provide for the sumptuous passage of the great Hadj caravans through the holy land, yet entirely neglected to provide for the comfort and security of the immense number of poor pilgrims [p.309] who are continually travelling through that country. Half-a- dozen houses of charity, established between Mekka and Medina, with an annual endowment of a few thousand dollars, would be of more real service to the cause of their religion, than all the sums spent in feeding the idle, or keeping up a vain show. On the whole of this route between Mekka and Medina, there is not a public khan, nor has any thing been done for the benefit of travellers, beyond keeping the wells in repair. The only instance of a truly charitable act in any of the sovereigns who enriched Mekka, recorded by the historians, is the building of an hospital at Mekka, in A.H. 816, by order of Moayed, Sultan of Egypt. No traces of it now remain. In the market-street of Szafra, which is called Souk-es�-Szafra, dates are the principal article for sale. The pound, which costs twenty-five paras at Mekka, was sold here for ten. Honey, preserved in sheep-skins, forms another article of trade here. The neighbouring mountains are full of bee-hives. In those districts which are known to be frequented by bees, the Bedouins place wooden hives upon the ground, and the bees never fail to take possession of them. The honey is of the best quality; I saw one sort of it as white, and almost as clear, as water. Drugs and spices, and some perfumes, of which the Bedouins of those countries are very fond, may here also be purchased. Szafra and Beder are the only places in the Hedjaz where the balsam of Mekka, or Balesan, can be procured in a pure state. The tree from which it is collected grows in the neighbouring mountains, but principally upon Djebel Sobh, and is called by the Arabs Beshem. I was informed that it is from ten to fifteen feet high, with a smooth trunk, and thin bark. In the middle of summer, small incisions are made in the bark; and the juice, which immediately issues, is taken off with the thumb-nail, and put into a vessel. The gum appears to be of two kinds; one of a white, and the other of a yellowish-white colour: the first is the most esteemed. I saw here some of the latter sort, in a small sheep-skin, which the Bedouins use in bringing it to market: it had a strong, turpentine smell, and its taste was bitter. The people of Szafra usually adulterate it with sesamum oil, and tar. When they try its purity, they dip their finger into it and then set fire to it; if it burn [p.310] without hurting or leaving a mark on the finger, they judge it to be of good quality; but if it burn the finger as soon as it is set on fire, they consider it to be adulterated. I remember to have read, in Bruce�s Travels, an account of the mode of trying it, by letting a drop fall into a cup filled with water; the good Balesan falling coagulated to the bottom, and the bad dissolving, and swimming on the surface. I tried this experiment, which was unknown to the people here, and found the drop swim upon the water; I tried also their test by fire upon the finger of a Bedouin, who had to regret his temerity: I therefore regarded the balsam sold here as adulterated; it was of less density than honey. I wished to purchase some; but neither my own baggage, nor any of the shops of Szafra, could furnish any thing like a bottle to hold it: the whole skin was too dear. The Bedouins, who bring it here, usually demand two or three dollars per pound for it, when quite pure; and the Szafra Arabs re-sell it to the hadjys of the great caravan, at between eight and twelve dollars per pound in an adulterated state. It is bought up principally by Persians. The Balesan for sale at Djidda and Mekka, from whence it comes to Cairo, always undergoes several adulterations; and if a hadjy does not casually meet with some Bedouins, from whom he may purchase it at first hand, no hopes can be entertained of getting it in a pure state. The richer classes of the hadjys put a drop of Balesan into the first cup of coffee they drink in the morning, from a notion that it acts as a tonic. The seeds of the tree from which it is obtained, are employed in the Hedjaz to procure abortion. I must notice here, as a peculiarity in the customs of the Beni Salem tribe, that, in case of the Dye, or the fine for a man slain, (amounting here to eight hundred dollars,) being accepted by the deceased�s family, the sum is made up by the murderer and his family, and by his relations; the former paying one-third, and the kindred two-thirds; a practice which, as far as my knowledge extends, does not prevail in any other part of the Desert. Our Bedouin guides had here a long quarrel with the Malays. The guides had bargained in the market for two camels, to replace two that were unfit to continue the journey; but not having money enough to [p.311] pay for them, they required the assistance of the Malays, and begged them to lend ten dollars, to be repaid at Medina. The Malays refused, and being hardly pressed, endeavoured to engage my interposition in their behalf; but the Bedouins forced the money from them by the same means which I had employed on a former occasion: the purse of a Malay, which had been concealed in a bag of rice, now came to light; it probably contained three hundred dollars. The owner was so much frightened by this discovery, and the apprehension that the Arabs would murder him on the road for the sake of his money, that by way of punishment for his avarice, they contrived to keep him in a constant state of alarm till we arrived at Medina. January 24th. We left the Souk-Es�-Szafra [During the night, a Kurd courier, mounted upon a dromedary, escorted by several Bedouins, passed through Szafra; he came from the head-quarters of Mohammed Aly, and was the bearer of the intelligence of the capture of Tarabe to Tousoun Pasha, at Medina] we passed the Omra thus far the road is paved in several parts with large stones, particularly on the ascents. We passed through valleys of firm sand, between irregular chains of low hills, where some shrubs and stunted acacia-trees grow. The road, with few exceptions, was perfectly level.] at 3 P.M., and rode along the valley, which widens a little beyond the market-place. The brilliant verdure of the date-trees and plantations form a singular contrast with the barren mountains on each side. Our direction was N. 10 E. I found the rock here composed throughout of red Thon stone, with transverse strata of the same substance, but of a green colour; beyond Djedeyde, a little higher up, I found, in my return from Medina, feldspar rocks. At one hour from the Souk, we passed a similar village in the valley, called El Kharma, which is comprised within the Wady Szafra. At the end of two hours, we came to a public fountain in ruins, on the road, near a well half choked up. The valley here divides; one branch turns towards the N.W.; the other, which we followed, N.N.E. Two hours and a half, we passed a hamlet called Dar el Hamra, with gardens of date-trees, and plantations, inhabited by the tribe of Howaseb, another branch of Harb. Several small watch-towers had been built here on the summits of the neighbouring mountains, on both sides of the valleys, by Othman el Medhayfe, to secure this passage. Plenty of bananas were offered us for sale, as we passed this place. At the end of two hours and three quarters, the road begins to ascend, and the soil of the valley, which thus far from Szafra is gravel intermixed with sand, now becomes stony. [p.312] In four hours and a quarter we passed the village called Mokad, which also produces dates. We stopped here for a quarter of an hour; where we were surrounded by many of the inhabitants; and on remounting my camel, I found that several trifling articles had been pilfered from my baggage. This defile is particularly dreaded by the Hadj caravans; and stories are related of daring robberies committed by the Arabs which appear almost incredible. They dress sometimes like Turkish soldiers, and introduce themselves into the caravan while on their march during the night; and in this manner they carried off, the year before, one of the finest led horses of the Pasha of Damascus, the chief of the Syrian caravan. They jump from behind upon the camel of the sleeping hadjy, stop his mouth with their abbas, and throw down to their companions whatever valuables they find upon him. If discovered, they draw their daggers and cut their way through; for, if taken, they can expect no mercy. The usual mode of punishment on such occasions, is to impale them at the moment the caravan starts from the next station, leaving them to perish on the stake, or be devoured by wild beasts. The horrors of such a punishment, however, do not deter others from committing the same crimes; and individuals among the Bedouins pride themselves in being reckoned expert Hadj-robbers, because great courage and dexterity are necessary to such a character. From hence our road lay N. 20 E. A barren valley about three hundred yards across begins here, which, at the end of six hours and a half, conducted us with many windings to Djedeyde, situated in a spot where the road becomes straight and has a steep ascent. I saw a great many date-trees on both sides of the valley, which takes the general name of Djedeyde, and is divided into several villages. Near the southern entrance is the market-place, or Es�-Souk Djedeyde, which appeared to be of greater extent than that of Szafra; but it is now almost in ruins. From thence the valley becomes still narrower, running between steep rocks for about one hour. It was in this spot that Mohammed Aly�s first expedition against the Wahabys, under the command of his son Tousoun Beg, was defeated in autumn 1811. They had possession of both mountains, and the discharges of musketry from each side [p.313] reached across the valley, where the Turkish army attempted in vain to pass. Most of the Sheikhs of the tribe of Harb, and the two great southern Wahaby chiefs, Othman el Medheyfe and Tamy, were present, with two of the sons of Saoud. At seven hours and a half, we passed El Kheyf, the last village in the valley of Djedeyde; several insulated groups of houses are also scattered along the valley. About eighty tents of Turkish soldiers were pitched here, to guard this pass; one of the most important positions in the Hedjaz, because it is the only way by which caravans can proceed from Mekka or Yembo to Medina. The Harb tribe are well fitted, by their warlike temper, to defend this post. Even before the Wahaby conquest, they had repeatedly been at war with the Syrian caravan, and Djezzar Pasha himself had been several times repulsed here, and obliged to take the eastern Hadj route, at the back of the great chain, rather than submit to the exorbitant demands of the Beni Harb for permitting the Hadj to pass through their territories. Abdullah Pasha of Damascus, who conducted the Hadj eighteen times in person to Mekka, was compelled to do the same. Whenever the Harb are in amity with the caravan, they have a right to a considerable passage duty, which is paid at Djedeyde. Szafra appeared to me better peopled, and to contain more houses, than are now in Djedeyde. In speaking of this pass, the Arabs generally join the two names, and say, �the valley of Szafra and Djedeyde.� Beyond El Kheyf the valley widens, and forms many windings. Our caravan was here in constant fear of robbers, which kept us awake, though the severe cold during the night would not have suffered us to sleep. Our main direction from Kheyf was N. 40 E. At twelve hours, gently ascending through the valley, we entered a plain, situated in the midst of the mountains, about ten miles in length, called El Nazye, where we alighted. January 26th. We remained encamped here the whole day, some passengers having acquainted us that disturbances had broken out on the road before us, which we did not discover to be a false report till the next day. The rocks surrounding this plain are partly of granite, and partly of lime-stone. The plain is thickly covered with acacia-trees. [p.314] Good water is found on the side of the mountains, but not in the plain itself. Some Bedouins of Beni Salem, to which tribe the inhabitants of Djedeyde also belong, pastured their flocks here: they were chiefly occupied in collecting food for their camels from the acacia-trees; for this purpose, they spread a straw mat under the tree, and beat its boughs with long sticks, when the youngest and freshest leaves, from the extremities of the twigs, fall down: these are esteemed the best food for camels. I saw them sold in measures, in the market at Szafra. We exchanged some biscuits for milk with these Bedouins; and one, to whom I had given a small dose of rhubarb, brought me some fresh butter in return. January 26th. We started at two P.M., and an hour and a half�s march over the plain brought us to the mountain. The whole breadth of this plain is about six miles. We then entered the mountain in the direction N. 50 E. The mixed rocks of granite and lime-stone present no regular strata. We next passed through a short defile, and, at the end of two hours and a half, entered a small plain called Shab el Hál, between the mountains, where were several encampments of Bedouins. At five hours, we entered a broad valley, running in a straight line, and covered with white sand. The night was cold, and the moon shone beautifully; I therefore walked in front of the caravan, whose pace being slow, I soon advanced, without perceiving it, to a considerable distance a-head. Finding that it did not come up, I sat down under a tree, and was going to light a fire, when I heard the tread of horses advancing towards me. I kept hidden behind the trees, and presently saw some Bedouins of very suspicious appearance pass by. After waiting a long time for the caravan, and unable to account for its delay, I retraced my steps, and found the camels standing at rest, and taking breath, and every soul upon them fast asleep, the foot-passengers being still behind. This happened to us several times during our journey. When the camel hears no voices about it, and is not urged by the leader, it slackens its pace, and at last stands still to rest; and if the leading camel once stops, all the rest do the same. I roused the Arabs, and we proceeded. The next day, we learnt that some travellers had been plundered this night on the road--no doubt by the horsemen [p.315] who passed me, and who probably dispersed when they saw a large caravan approaching. The valley in which we were travelling is called Wady es� Shohada, or the �Valley of Martyrs,� where many followers of Mohammed are said to have been killed in battle: their remains are covered by rude heaps of stones in different parts of the valley. Here also are seen several tombs of hadjys; and I observed some walls, much ruined, where a small chapel or mosque appeared to have stood: no water is found here. This is a station of the Hadj caravan. At the end of nine hours, we issued from this wady, which is on a very slight ascent; and then taking a direction E.N.E. we crossed a rocky ground, and entered a wide plain called El Fereysh, where two small caravans from Medina bound to Yembo passed us. At the end of eleven hours and a half we alighted. The plain of Fereysh, according to the historian Asamy, was the scene of a sanguinary battle, between the Sherif of Mekka and the Bedouin tribes of Dhofyr and Aeneze, in A.H. 1063. The Dhofyr, who are now settled in Mesopotamia, towards Baghdad, were at that time pasturing their herds in the neighbourhood of Medina. January 27th. The rocks here are all of red granite. A party of Bedouins, with their women, children, and tents passed us; they belonged to the tribe of Harb, called El Hamede, and had left the upper country, where no rain had yet fallen, to seek better pasturage in the lower mountains. While we were encamped, a heavy storm, with thunder and lightning, overtook us, and the rain poured down: as it threatened to be of long duration, and we had no tents, it was thought advisable to proceed. We started in the afternoon; and it continued to rain during the rest of the day and the whole night, which, joined to the cold climate in these elevated regions, was severely felt by all of us. Our road ascended through rocky valleys full of thorny trees; it was crossed by several torrents that had rapidly swollen, and which we passed with difficulty. After seven hours� march we reached the summit of this chain of mountains, when the immense eastern plain lay stretched before us: we passed several insulated hills. The ground is covered with black and brown flints. In nine hours we passed at [p.316] some distance to the west of the date-plantations, and the few houses built round the well called Bir Aly. At the end of ten hours, in the middle of the night, just as the weather had cleared up, and a severe frost succeeded the rain, we arrived before the gate of Medina. It was shut, and we had to wait till day-light before it could be opened. Being unable to light a fire on the wet ground with wet fuel, and being all completely soaked with the rain, the sharp frost of the morning became distressing to us, and was probably the cause of the fever which confined me so long in this town; for I had enjoyed perfect health during the whole journey. We entered Medina at sun-rise on the 28th of January, the thirteenth day after our leaving Mekka, having halted two days on the road. The Hadj caravan usually performs the journey in eleven days, and, if pressed for time, in ten. The Bedouins apply to the whole country between Mekka and Medina, west of the mountains, the name of El Djohfe, which, however, is sometimes understood to mean the country from Mekka to Beder only. [p.317]MEDINA. THE caravan alighted in a large court-yard in the suburb, where the loads were deposited; and all the travellers who had come with it immediately dispersed in quest of lodgings. With the help of a Mezowar, a professional class of men, similar to the delyls at Mekka, I procured, after some trouble, a good apartment in the principal market-street of the town, about fifty yards from the great mosque. I transported my baggage to those lodgings, where I was called upon by the Mezowar to visit the mosque and the holy tomb of Mohammed; it being a law here, as at Mekka, that a traveller arriving in the town must fulfil this duty, before he undertakes the most trifling business. The ceremonies are here much easier and shorter than at Mekka, as will be presently seen. In a quarter of an hour I had gone through them, when I was at liberty to return home to arrange my domestic affairs. My Mezowar assisted me in the purchase of all necessary provisions, which were not obtained without difficulty; Tousoun Pasha, the governor of the town, having, by his inconsiderate measures, frightened away the Bedouins and camel-drivers, who used to bring in provisions. Flour and butter, however, those prime articles in an Eastern kitchen, were to be had before sunset, though not found in the public market; but it was three days before I could procure any coal, the want of which was sensibly felt at this cold season of the year. Hearing that Yahya Efendi, the physician of Tousoun Pasha, the same person who [p.318] in July last had taken my bill upon Djidda, was here. I paid him a visit next day, and showed him a letter received at Mekka, before I had left that town, from my Cairo banker, mentioning the payment of the bill, no news of which had yet reached Yahya himself. Much as this gentleman�s acquaintance had been of service to me on that occasion, a good deal took place now to detract from it. At a visit which he paid me soon after, he happened to see my small stock of medicines, the same that I had in my Nubian journey, during which it never was touched, some emetics and purges only having been used whilst I staid at Djidda and Mekka; I had therefore half a pound of good bark in my medicine sack, untouched. Several persons of the Pasha�s court were at this time ill of fevers; Tousoun Pasha himself was in an indifferent state of health, and his physician had few medicines fit for such cases. He begged of me the bark, which I gave him, as I was then in good health, and thought myself already in the vicinity of Egypt, where I hoped to arrive in about two months. I owed him, moreover, some obligations, and was glad to testify my gratitude. Two days after I had cause to repent of my liberality; for I was attacked by a fever, which soon took a very serious turn. As it was intermittent, I wished to take bark; but when I asked the physician for some of it, he assured me that he had already distributed the last dram, and he brought me, instead of it, some of the powder of the Gentiana, which had lost all its virtue from age. My fever thus increased, accompanied by daily and repeated vomiting, and profuse sweats, being for the whole first month quotidian. The emetics I took proved of no service; and after having from want of bark gone through the course of medicines I thought applicable to the case, and being very seldom favoured with a visit from my friend Yahya Effendi, I left my disease to nature. After the first month, there was an interval of a week�s repose, of which had I been able to profit by taking bark, my disorder would, no doubt, have been overcome; but it had abated only to return with greater violence, and now became a tertian fever, while the vomiting still continued, accompanied by occasional faintings, and ended in a total prostration of strength. I was now unable to rise from my carpet, without the assistance of my slave, a poor fellow, who by habit [p.319] and nature was more fitted to take care of a camel, than to nurse his drooping master. I had by this time lost all hope of returning to Egypt, and had prepared myself for dying here. Despondency had seized me, from an apprehension that, if the news of my death should arrive in England, my whole Hedjaz journey would, perhaps, be condemned as the unauthorised act of an imprudent, or at least over-zealous missionary; and I had neither books, nor any society, to divert my mind from such reflections: one book only was in my possession, a pocket edition of Milton, which Captain Boag, at Djidda, had kindly permitted me to take from his cabin-library, and this I must admit was now worth a whole shelf full of others. The mistress of my lodgings, an old infirm woman, by birth an Egyptian, who during my stay took up her quarters in an upper story, from which she could speak to me without being seen, as it opened into my own room below, used to converse with me for half an hour every evening; and my cicerone, or Mezowar, paid me occasional visits, in order, as I strongly suspected, to seize upon part of my baggage in case of my death. Yahya Effendi left the town in the month of March, with the army of Tousoun Pasha, which marched against the Wababys. About the beginning of April, the returning warmth of the spring put a stop to my illness; but it was nearly a fortnight before I could venture to walk out, and every breeze made me dread a return of the fever. The bad climate of the town, its detestable water, and the great number of diseases now prevalent, made me extremely desirous to leave Medina. My original intention was, to remain here, at most, one month, then to take some Bedouin guides, and with them to cross the Desert to Akaba, at the extremity of the Red Sea, in a straight direction, from whence I might easily have found my way to Cairo. In this route I wished to visit Hedjer, on the Syrian Hadj road, where I expected to find some remains of the remotest antiquity, that had not been described by any other traveller, while the interior of the country might have offered many other objects of research and curiosity. It was, however, utterly impossible for me to perform this journey in my convalescent state; nor had I any hopes of recovering, in [p.320] two months, strength sufficient for a journey of such fatigue. To wait so long, continually exposed to suffer again from the climate, was highly unadvisable; and I panted for a change of air, being convinced that, without it, my fever would soon return. With these feelings I abandoned the long-projected design of my journey, and now determined on going to Yembo, on the sea-coast, and from thence to embark for Egypt; a decision in some degree rendered necessary by the state of my purse, which a long stay at Medina had greatly reduced. When I found myself strong enough to mount a camel, I looked out for some conveyance to Yembo, and contracted with a Bedouin, who, together with his companions, forming a small caravan, started for that place on the 1st of April, within six days of three months after my arrival at Medina, eight weeks of which time I had been confined to my couch. My remarks on Medina are but scanty; with good health, I should have added to them: but as this town is totally unknown to Europeans, they may contain some acceptable information. The plan of the town was made by me during the first days of my stay; and I can vouch for the correctness of its outlines; but I had not the same leisure to trace it in all its details, as I had that of Mekka. [p.321] DESCRIPTION OF MEDINA.[EXPLANATION OF THE PLAN OF MEDINA. [Not included]] MEDINA is situated on the edge of the great Arabian Desert, close to the chain of mountains which traverses that country from north to south, and is a continuation of Libanon. I have already stated in my Journal through Arabia Petræa, that the chain on the east of the Dead Sea runs down towards Akaba. From thence, it extends along the shore of the Red Sea as far as Yemen, sometimes close to the sea, [p.322] at others having an intervening plain called by the Arabs Tahama, a name which, in Yemen, is also bestowed upon a particular part of it. I have likewise mentioned in that Journal, that the eastern descent of these mountains, all along the Jordan, the Dead Sea, and the valley called Araba, down to Akaba, is much less than the western, and that therefore the great plain of Arabia, which begins eastward of these mountains, is considerably elevated above the level of the sea. I made the same remark in going to Tayf, after having crossed the mountain called Djebel Kura, which forms part of that chain; and the same is to be observed at Medina. The mountain which we had ascended in coming from Mekka, when seen from the coast, presents peaks of considerable height; when we reached the upper plain, in the neighbourhood of Medina, these summits appeared on our left like mere hills, their elevation above the eastern plain being not more than one-third of that from the western sea-shore. The last undulations of these mountains touch the town on the north side; on its other side, the country is flat, though not always a completely even plain. A branch of the chain, called Djebel Ohod, projects a little into the plain, at one hour�s distance from the town, bearing from the latter N.N.E. to N.E. [In these bearings the variation of the needle is not computed.] At eight or ten hours� distance, (E. 6 N.-E. 6 S.) a chain of low hills rises in an eastern direction, across which lies the road to Nedjed. Similar hills, at the same distance, are to the S.E. The country to the south extends on a perfect level as far as can be seen. On the S.W., about an hour, or an hour and a half distant, a branch called Djebel Ayra projects, like Djebel Ohod, from the main chain, into the plain. The town itself is built on the lowest part of the plain; for it receives the torrents from the western mountains, as well as the currents from the S. and S.E. quarters; and they produce in the rainy season numerous pools of stagnant water, which is left to evaporate gradually; the gardens, trees, and walls, with which the plain abounds, interrupting the free current of air. These gardens, and date- plantations, interspersed with fields, enclose the town on three sides, leaving [p.323] only that part of the plain open to the view, which is on the side of the road towards Mekka, where the rocky nature of the ground renders cultivation impossible. Medina is divided into the interior town, and the suburbs; the interior forms an oval, of about two thousand eight hundred paces in total circuit, ending in a point. The castle is built at the point, upon a small rocky elevation; and the whole is enclosed by a thick stone wall, between thirty-five and forty feet high, flanked by about thirty towers, and surrounded by a ditch, (the work of the Wahabys,) which is in many places nearly filled up. The wall is in complete repair, forming, in Arabia, a very respectable defence; so that Medina has always been considered as the principal fortress of the Hedjaz. The wall was built A.H. 860; and till that time the town was quite open, and daily exposed to the incursions of the neighbouring Bedouins. It was subsequently rebuilt at different times, but principally in A.H. 900, a ditch having been previously carried round it in 751 (v. S.) According to Asamy, it was built as it now stands, with its gates, by order of Solyman ibn Selym, at the close of the sixteenth century of our era. Three fine gates lead into the town: Bab el Masry, on the south side, (which, next to Bab el Fatouh, at Cairo, is the finest town-gate I have seen in the East); Bab es� Shámy, on the north side; and Bab el Ujoma, on the east side: a smaller by-gate, called Bab es� Soghyr, in the south wall, had been closed up by the Wahabys. Near the Bab es� Shámy, close to the castle, is a niche in the town-wall, where, it is related, a small chapel once stood, called Mesdjed es� Sabak, from whence the warlike adherents of Mohammed used to start in their exercise of running. Medina is well built, entirely of stone; its houses are generally two stories high, with flat roofs. As they are not white-washed, and the stone is of a dark colour, the streets have rather a gloomy aspect; and are, for the most part, very narrow, often only two or three paces across: a few of the principal streets are paved with large blocks of stone; a comfort which a traveller little expects to find in Arabia. It is, on the whole, one of the best-built towns I have seen in the East, ranking, in this respect, next to Aleppo. At present, it has a desolate [p.324] appearance: the houses are suffered to decay; their owners, who formerly derived great profits from the crowd of visiters which arrived here at all times of the year, now find their income diminished, and decline the heavy expense of building, as they know they cannot be reimbursed by the letting out of apartments. Ruined houses, and walls wanting repair, are seen in every part of the town; and Medina presents the same disheartening view as most of the Eastern towns, which now afford but faint images of their ancient splendour. The principal street of Medina is also the broadest, and leads from the Cairo gate to the great mosque: in this street are most of the shops. Another considerable street, called El Belát, runs from the mosque to the Syrian gate; but many of its houses are in ruins: this contains also a few shops, but none are found in other parts of the town; thus differing from Mekka, which is one continued market. In general, the latter is much more like an Arab town than Medina, which resembles more a Syrian city. I had no time to trace all the different quarters of the town; but I shall here give the names by which they are at present known. The quarter comprised between the two main streets leading from the Egyptian and Syrian gates to the mosque, are, Es-Saha, Komet Hasheyfe, El Belát, Zogág el Towál, (here is situated the Mekkam, or house of the Kadhy, and several pleasant gardens are attached to the larger buildings;) Zogág el Dhorra, Sakyfet Shakhy, Zogág el Bakar. The quarters lying to the north of the street El Belát, extending to the north of the mosque, as far as the gate El Djoma, are:--El Hamáta, Zogág el Habs, Zogág Ankyny, Zogág es� Semáhedy, Háret el Meyda, Haret es� Shershoura, Zogág el Bedour, Haret el Agowat, where the eunuchs of the mosque live. The quarters from the gate El Djoma, along the southern parts of the town, as far as the Egyptian gate, and the great market-street, are: Derwan, Es-Salehye, Zogág Yáhou, Háret Ahmed Heydar, Háret Beni Hosseyn, the tribe of Beni Hosseyn living here; Háret el Besough, Háret Sakyfet, Er-Resás, Zogág el Zerendy, Zogág el Kibreit, [p.325] Zogág el Hadjamyn, Háret Sydy Málek, where Málek ibn Anes, the founder of the Malekite sect, had his house, and Háret el Kamáshyn. Very few large buildings, or public edifices, are found in the precincts of the town. The great mosque, containing the tomb of Mohammed, is the only temple. A fine public school, called Medrese el Hamdye, in the street El Belát; a similar one, near the mosque, where the Sheikh el Haram, or its guardian, lives; a large corn-magazine, enclosing a wide yard, in the southern quarter of the town; a bath, (the only one,) not far distant from it, built in A.H. 973, by Mohammed Pasha, vizier of Sultan Soleyman, are all the public buildings which fell under my observation. [The historian of Medina mentions several Okals, or public khans, in this town; but I saw none, nor do I believe that they now exist] This want of splendid monuments was likewise remarked by me at Mekka. The Arabians, in general, have little taste for architecture; and even their chiefs content themselves in their mansions with what is merely necessary. Whatever public edifices are still found in Mekka and Medina, are the work of the Sultans of Egypt or of Constantinople; and the necessary expenses incurred annually by these distant sovereigns, for the sake of the two holy cities, were too great to allow of any augmentation for mere show. For the want of public buildings, however, in the town, a compensation is made by the number of pretty private habitations, having small gardens, with wells, the water of which is used in irrigation, and fills marble basins, round which, in summer- time, the owners pass the hours of noon under lofty sheds. The castle, which I have mentioned above, is surrounded by very strong walls, and several high and solid towers. I was not permitted to enter it, on applying at the gate. It contains sufficient space for six or eight hundred men; has many arched rooms, bomb-proof; and, if well garrisoned, and furnished with provisions, may be deemed impregnable by an Arabian force, as it is built upon a rock, and therefore cannot be undermined. To European artillery, however, it would appear an insignificant fort. It contains a deep well of good water. [p.326] Two or three, guns only are at present mounted on its towers; nor were there more than a dozen serviceable guns to defend the whole town. On the west and south of the town extend the suburbs, which cover more ground than the town itself. They are separated from it by an open space, narrow on the south side, but widening on the west, before the Cairo gate, where it forms a large public place, called Monákh; a name implying that caravans alight there, which is really the case, as it is always crowded with camels and Bedouins. Several rows of small huts and sheds are erected here, in which provisions are sold, principally corn, dates, vegetables, and butter; and a number of coffee-huts, which are beset the whole day with visiters. The side of the suburbs fronting the Monakh has no walls; but on the outside, to the west and south, they are enclosed by a wall, of inferior size and strength to the interior town wall. In several parts it is completely ruined; on the south side only it is defended by small towers. Four gates lead from the suburbs into the open country; they are small wooden doors, of no strength, except that leading from the Cairo gate, which is larger and better built than the rest. The greater part of the suburbs consists in large court-yards, with low apartments built round them, on the ground-floor, and separated from each other by gardens and plantations. These are called Hosh, (plur. Hyshan,) and are inhabited by all the lower classes of the town, many Bedouins who have become settlers here, and all those who are engaged in agriculture. Each hosh contains thirty or forty families; thus forming so many small separate hamlets, which, in times of unsettled government, are frequently engaged in desperate feuds with each other. The cattle is kept in the midst of the court-yard, in each of which is a large well; and the only gate of entrance is regularly shut at night. On the S. and N.W. sides of the town, within the precincts of the wall, the suburbs consist entirely of similar court-yards, with extensive gardens between and behind them. On the west side, directly opposite the Cairo gate and the Monakh, the suburb consists of regular and well-built streets, with houses resembling those of the [p.327] interior of the town. The broad street, called El Ambarye, crosses this part of the suburb, and has good buildings on both sides. In this neighbourhood lived Tousoun Pasha, in a private dwelling; and near it, in the best house of the town, belonging to the rich merchant Abd el Shekour, lived the Pasha�s mother, the wife of Mohammed Aly, and his own women, who had lately come on a visit. The principal quarters of the suburbs are Háret el Ambarye, Háret el Wádjeha, Háret es� Sahh, Háret Abou Aysa, Háret Masr, Háret el Teyar, Háret Nefýse, Háret el Hamdye, Háret el Shahrye, Háret el Kheybarye, Háret el Djafar. Many people of the interior town have their summer houses in these quarters, where they pass a month in the date-harvest. Every garden is enclosed by mud walls, and several narrow by-lanes, just broad enough for a loaded camel to cross the suburbs in every direction. There are two mosques in the Monákh: the one, called Mesdjed Aly, or the mosque of the Prophet�s cousin, is said to be as old as the time of Mohammed; but the building, as it stands, was rebuilt in A.H. 876. Mohammed is said to have often prayed here; and, for the convenience of the inhabitants of the suburbs who are at a distance from the great mosque, the Khotbe, or Friday�s prayer, is likewise performed in it. The other mosque, called Mesdjed Omar, to which a public medrese, or school, was attached, serves at present as a magazine, and quarters for many soldiers. To both these mosques the historian of Mekka applies the name of Mesdjed el Fath: he calls the one Mesdjed el Aala, from standing on the highest part of the town. Two other mosques, the one called Mesdjed Aly Beker, and the other Mesdjed Zobáb, stood in this neighbourhood in the sixteenth century; and the Monákh at that time bore the name of Djebel Sola, the Arabians applying the name of Djebel (or mountain) to any slightly elevated spot of ground. In the same author�s time there were fifteen mosques in this town and its neighbourhood, all now ruined; and he gives the names and history of thirty-seven that were erected in the former ages of Islam. I was told, that in the quarter El Ambarye the house where Mohammed lived is still shown; but many doubt this tradition, and the spot is not visited as one of the holy places. Here, as in Mekka, no [p.328] ancient buildings are found. The winter rains, the nitrous, damp atmosphere during the rainy season, and the intense heat which follows it, are destructive to buildings; and the cement employed in their construction being of a very indifferent quality, the stones soon become loosened and the walls decay. The town is supplied with sweet water by a fine subterraneous canal, carried hither from the village of Koba, about three quarters of an hour distant, in a southern direction, at the expense of Sultan Solyman, the son of Selym I. The water is abundant, and, in several parts of the town, steps are made down to the canal, where the inhabitants supply themselves with water, but are not, like the people of Mekka, obliged to pay for it. On the skirts of the Monákh, a large reservoir, cased with stone, has also been made, on a level with the canal, which is constantly kept full. The water in the canal runs at the depth of between twenty and twenty-five feet below the surface; it is derived from several springs at Koba, and, though not disagreeable to the taste, is nevertheless of bad quality. If left for half an hour in a vessel, it covers the sides of it with a white nitrous crust; and all foreigners, who are not accustomed to it from their earliest youth, complain of its producing indigestion. It is tepid at its source in Koba, and even at Medina slightly preserves its temperature. There are also many wells scattered over the town; every garden has one, by which it is irrigated; and wherever the ground is bored to the depth of twenty-five or thirty feet, water is found in plenty. Of some wells the water is sweet enough for drinking; of others quite brackish. The fertility of the fields and gardens is in proportion to the quality of the well-water; those irrigated with brackish water, repay badly the labour of their owners; the date-trees alone thriving equally well in any place. In addition to the water of the wells and the aqueduct, the town in winter time receives a supply from the considerable torrent called Seyl el Medina, or Seyl Bathán, which flows from S. to N. passing across the suburbs, and losing itself in a stony valley to the N.W. [All the neighbouring torrents lose themselves in a low ground in the western mountains, called El Ghába, and also El Zaghába. See Samhoudy.] A heavy rain for one night will fill its bed, though it usually decreases as fast [p.329] as it swells. In that part of the suburb, called El Ambarye, we find a good arched stone bridge thrown across its banks, where it is about forty feet in breadth. The neighbouring country abounds with similar torrents, which fill many ponds and low grounds, where the water often remains till the summer months: these, together with the wells, contribute to render the environs of this town celebrated for the abundance of water, surpassing, in this respect, perhaps, any other spot in northern Arabia, and which had made this a considerable settlement of Arabs, long before it became sacred among the Moslims, by the flight, residence, and death of Mohammed, to which it owes its name of Medina, or Medinet el Neby. The great abundance of water has made cisterns of little use in the town; and I do not believe that more than two or three houses have them; though it would be very desirable to collect the rain-water for drinking, from the torrents, in preference to the nitrous water of Koba. During heavy rains the Monákh, between the suburbs and the town, becomes a complete lake, and the S. and S.E. environs are covered with a sheet of water. The inhabitants hail these inundations as a sure promise of plenty, because they not only copiously irrigate their date-trees, but likewise cause verdure to spread over the more distant plains inhabited by Bedouins, on whose imports of cattle and butter Medina depends for its consumption. The precious jewel of Medina, which sets the town almost upon a level with Mekka, and has even caused it to be preferred to the latter, by many Arabic writers, [This is particularly the case with the sect of the Malekites, who pretend that Medina is more to be honoured than Mekka.] is the great mosque, containing the tomb of Mohammed. Like the mosque of Mekka, it bears the name of El Haram, on account of its inviolability; a name which is constantly given to it by the people of Medina, while, in foreign parts, it is more generally known under the appellation of Mesdjed en� Neby, the mosque or temple of the Prophet, who was its original founder. The ground-plan will show that this mosque is situated towards the eastern extremity of the town, and not in the midst of it, as the Arabian historians [p.330] and geographers often state. Its dimensions are much smaller than those of the mosque at Mekka, being a hundred and sixty-five paces in length, and a hundred and thirty in breadth; but it is built much upon the same plan, forming an open square, surrounded on all sides by covered colonnades, with a small building in the centre of the square. [The representations of this mosque, given both by Niebuhr and D�Ohhson, are very incorrect, being copied, probably, from old Arab drawings. I had intended to make a correct plan of it, but was prevented by my illness; and I should not wish to add one from mere recollection. Samhoudy states its dimensions as quite different, and says that it is two hundred and forty pikes in length, one hundred and sixty-five pikes in breadth on the S. side, and one hundred and thirty on the N. side. He adds that there are two hundred and ninety-six columns. I am not quite sure whether the building has been materially changed since his time, and after the fire in A.H. 886; but I believe not, and regard his account as much exaggerated.] These colonnades are much less regular than those at Mekka, where the rows of pillars stand at much the same depth on all sides. On the south side of this mosque, the colonnade is composed of ten rows of pillars behind each other; and on the west side are four rows; on the north, and part of the east side, only three rows. The columns themselves are of different sizes. On the south side, which contains the Prophet�s tomb, and which forms the most holy part of the building, they are of larger dimensions than in the other parts, and about two feet and a half in diameter. They have no pediments, the shafts touching the ground; and the same diversity and bad taste are as conspicuous in the capitals here as in the mosque at Mekka, no two being alike. The columns are of stone, but, being all plastered white, it is difficult to decide of what species. To the height of about six feet from the ground they are painted with flowers and arabesques, in a coarse and gaudy style; by which means, probably, it was intended to remedy the want of pediments. Those standing nearest to that part of the southern colonnade called El Rodha, are cased for half their height with bright glazed green tiles or slates, decorated with arabesques of various colours: the tiles seem to be of Venetian pottery, and are of the same kind as those used to cover stoves in Germany and Switzerland. [p.331]The roof of the colonnade consists of a number of small domes, white-washed on the outside, in the same manner as those of Mekka. The interior walls are also white-washed all round, except the southern one, and part of the S.E. corner, which are cased with slabs of marble, nearly up to the top. Several rows of inscriptions, in large gilt letters, are conducted along this wall, one above the other, and have a very brilliant effect upon the white marble. The floor under the colonnades, on the west and east sides, and part of the north, is laid out with a coarse pavement; the other part of the N. side being unpaved, and merely covered with sand; as is likewise the whole open yard. On the south side, where the builder of the mosque has lavished all this ornament, the floor is paved with fine marble across the whole colonnade; and in those parts nearest to the tomb of Mohammed, this pavement is in mosaic, of excellent workmanship, forming one of the best specimens of that kind to be seen in the East. Large and high windows, with glass panes, (of which I know not any other instance in the Hedjaz) admit the light through the southern wall; some of them are of fine painted glass. On the other sides, smaller windows are dispersed along the walls, but not with glass panes. [The art of painting glass with durable colours seems never to have been lost in the East.] Near the S.E. corner stands the famous tomb, so detached from the walls of the mosque, as to leave between it and the S. wall a space of about twenty-five feet, and fifteen between it and the E. wall. The enclosure, which defends the tomb from the too near approach of visiters, forms an irregular square of about twenty paces, in the midst of the colonnade, several of its pillars being included within it: it is an iron railing, painted green, about two-thirds the height of the columns, filling up the intervals between them, so as to leave their upper part projecting above it, and entirely open. The railing is of good workmanship, in imitation of filligree, and is interwoven with open-worked inscriptions of yellow bronze, supposed by the vulgar to be of gold, and of so close a texture, that no view can be gained into [p.332] the interior, except by several small windows, about six inches square, which are placed in the four sides of the railing, about five feet above the ground. On the south side of the railing, where are the two principal of these windows, before which the visiters stand when praying, the railing is thinly plated over with silver, and the often- repeated inscription of �La Illaha il Allah al hak al Mobyn,� (�There is no God but God, the evident Truth,�) is carried in silver letters across the railing all round these windows. This enclosure is entered by four gates, three of which are constantly kept shut, and one only is opened, every morning and .evening, to admit the eunuchs, whose office it is to clean the floor and light the lamps. Each of these gates has its particular name: Báb en� Neby, Báb Errahme, Báb et Touba, Báb Setna Fatme. The permission to enter into this enclosure, which is called El Hedjra, is granted gratis to people of rank, as Pashas, or chiefs of the Hadj caravans, and may be purchased by other people from the principal eunuchs, at the price of about twelve or fifteen dollars, distributed in presents among them: but few visiters avail themselves of this privilege, because they well know that, on entering the enclosure, nothing more is to be seen than what falls under their observation when peeping in at the windows of the railing, which are constantly kept open; and I was myself not inclined to attract general notice, by thus satisfying my curiosity. What appears of the interior is a curtain carried round, which takes up almost the whole space, having between it and the railing an open walk, of a few paces only in breadth. The curtain is equal in height to the railing; but I could not distinguish from below, whether, like the latter, it is open at the top. There is a covering, (as the eunuchs affirm,) of the same stuff of which the curtain is made; this is a rich silk brocade, of various colours, interwoven with silver flowers and arabesques, with a band of inscriptions in golden characters, running across the midst of it, like that of the covering of the Kaaba. This curtain is at least thirty feet high: it has a small gate to the north, which is always shut; no person whatever being permitted to enter within its holy precincts, except the chief eunuchs, who take care of it, and who put on, during the night, the new curtain sent from [p.333] Constantinople, whenever the old one is decayed, or when a new Sultan ascends the throne. The old curtains are sent to Constantinople, and serve to cover the tombs of the sultans and princes. [See D�Ohhson. The historian of Medina says, that in his time it was changed every six years, and that the income from several villages in Egypt was set apart at Cairo for the manufacturing of those curtains.] According to the historian of Medina, the curtain covers a square building of black stones, supported by two pillars, in the interior of which are the tombs of Mohammed, and his two earliest friends and immediate successors, Abou Beker and Omar. As far as I could learn here, these tombs are also covered with precious stuffs, and in the shape of catafalques, like that of Ibrahim in the great mosque of Mekka. They are said to be placed in the following order: [not included] The largest being that of Mohammed, and the one above it Abou Beker�s. The historian says, that these tombs are deep holes; and that the coffin which contains the dust of Mohammed, is cased with silver, and has on the top a marble slab, inscribed, �Bismillahi Allahuma Sally aley.� (�In the name of God, bestow thy mercy upon him.�) They did not always stand in their present position: Samhoudy places them at different times thus: [not included] The stories once prevalent in Europe, of the prophet�s tomb being suspended in the air, are unknown in the Hedjaz; nor have I ever heard them in other parts of the East, though the most exaggerated accounts of the wonders and the riches of this tomb are propagated by those who have visited Medina, and wish to add to their own importance by relating fabulous stories of what they pretend to have [p.334] seen. Round these tombs the treasures of the Hedjaz were formerly kept, either suspended on silken ropes, drawn across the interior of the building, or placed in chests on the ground. Among these, may be particularly mentioned a copy of the Koran, in Cufic characters, kept there as a precious relic, from having belonged to Othman ibn Affan. It is said still to exist in Medina; but we may doubt whether it escaped the conflagration which destroyed the mosque. I have related, in my history of the Wahabys, that during the siege of Medina considerable portions of the treasures, more particularly all the golden vessels, were seized by the chiefs of the town, ostensibly for the purpose of being distributed among the poor, but that they were, finally, divided among themselves. When Saoud took the town, he entered the Hedjra himself, and penetrated behind the curtain, where he seized upon every thing valuable he found; of this he sold a part to the Sherif of Mekka, and the rest he carried with him to Derayeh. Among the precious articles which he took, the most valuable is said to have been a brilliant star set in diamonds and pearls, which was suspended directly over the Prophet�s tomb. It is often spoken of by the Arabs, who call it Kokab ed�durry. Here were deposited all sorts of vessels, set with jewels, ear-rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other ornaments, sent as presents from all parts of the empire, but brought principally by great hadjys who passed through Medina. There is no doubt that the whole formed a. collection of considerable value, but far from being inestimable, as the people are inclined to fancy. Sherif Ghaleb estimated that part of it which he bought, at one hundred thousand dollars. The chiefs of the town are said to have carried. off about one hundred weight of golden vessels, at most worth forty or fifty thousand dollars; and what Saoud took with him is said to have consisted chiefly in pearls and corals, and was certainly not worth more than Ghaleb�s purchase. The total value, therefore, might have amounted to about three hundred thousand dollars. Money never appears to have been deposited here; for whatever presents were made to the mosque in cash, were immediately distributed among its attendants. There is good reason for supposing, however, that the donations of the faithful, which accumulated here for ages, amounted to a much greater sun than what [p.335] is stated above; but it would be strange if the governors of Medina, who were often independent, or the guardians of the tomb themselves, should not have made occasional draughts upon this treasure, in the same manner as the olemas of Mekka, about three hundred years since, stole the golden lamps of the Kaaba, and carried them out of the temple, hid under their wide sleeves, according to Kotobeddyn the historian. Tousoun Pasha, on his arrival at Medina, made search for the golden vessels, which had been re-sold by the chiefs of the town to some other of the inhabitants, and not yet melted. He found several of them, which he bought from the owners for about ten thousand dollars, and replaced them in their original situation. The floor between the curtain and the railing, and of all this part of the mosque, is laid with various coloured marbles in mosaic: here glass lamps are suspended all round the curtains, which are lighted every evening, and remain burning all night. The whole of this enclosure, or Hedjra, is covered with a fine lofty dome, rising far above the domes which form the roof of the colonnades, and visible at a great distance from the town; and the visiters coming to Medina, as soon as they catch the sight of it, repeat certain prayers. The covering is of lead surmounted with a globe of considerable size, and a crescent, both glittering with gold. [The globe was gilt, and the crescent sent from Constantinople, by the Sultan Soleyman ibn Selym. (See Asamy.) The cupola, and the whole of the temple as it now stands, was built by Kait Beg, Sultan of Egypt, from A.H. 881 to 892.] It is reported that they are of massy gold; which can scarcely be believed, if we consider the little inclination that even the richest and most powerful of the Sultans have shown, to ornament with splendour either the mosque of Mekka or Medina. The Wahabys, allured by the appearance of the globe, and acting upon their invariable practice of destroying all domes or cupolas erected over the tombs of mortals, among whom Mohammed was to be reckoned, attempted to destroy the dome, and throw down the globe and crescent; but their solid construction, and the lead covering, rendered this a difficult undertaking two of the workmen slipped from the smooth roof, and were precipitated [p.336] below, after which the work of destruction was abandoned; a circumstance which is now cited as a visible miracle worked by the Prophet in favour of his monument. Near the curtain of the Hedjra, but separated from it, though within the precincts of the railing, which here, to admit it, deviates a little from its square shape, is the tomb of Setna Fatme, the daughter of Mohammed, and wife of Aly: it consists of a catafalque forming a cube, covered with a rich embroidered black brocade, and without any other ornament. But some difference of opinion exists, whether her remains actually rest here or in the burial-ground called Bakya, beyond the town. Till this dispute, however, be settled, the pilgrims are conducted to both places, and made to pay double fees. On the E. wall of the mosque, nearly opposite to this tomb, a small window is shown, at the place where the archangel Gabriel is said to have repeatedly descended from heaven, with messages to Mohammed. It is called Mahbat Djybrail. Mohammedan tradition says, that when the last trumpet shall sound, Aysa (Jesus Christ) is to descend from heaven to earth, and to announce to its inhabitants the great day of judgment: after which he is to die, and will be buried in this Hedjra, by the side of Mohammed: that, when the dead shall rise from their graves, they will both rise together, ascend to heaven, and Aysa, on that day, will be ordered by the Almighty to separate the faithful from the infidels. In conformity with this tradition, the spot is pointed at through the curtain of the Hedjra, where the tomb of Aysa will be placed. Outside the railing on the north, close by the tomb of Fatme, is a square bench in the mosque, elevated above the ground about four feet, and fifteen paces square, called El Meyda, or the table. Here the eunuch guardians of the mosque sit; and the councils of the primates of the town, or their principal assemblies, are often held here. A wooden partition about eight feet high, and richly painted with arabesques, runs from the western side of the railing across the mosque, parallel with the south wall, and about twenty-five feet distant from it, and terminating near the gate called Báb-es-Salám, thus extending from the Hedjra nearly across the whole breadth of the mosque. It [p.337] has several small doors, and is made to separate the holy place called El Rodha from the common passage of the visiters, who, on entering through Báb-es�-Salám, pass forward towards the Hedjra, along the columns standing between this partition and the south wall. Next to the Hedjra, that part of the southern colonnade north of the partition is considered the most holy place in the mosque, and called Rodha, i. e. a garden, or the Garden of the Faithful; a name bestowed upon it by Mohammed, who said: �Between my tomb and my pulpit is a garden of the gardens of Paradise.� The pulpit of the mosque stands close to this partition, about midway between the Hedjra and the west wall of the mosque, and the name Rodha strictly belongs to that space only which is between the pulpit and the Hedjra, though the whole southern colonnade of the temple to the north of the partition is often comprised under that appellation. It is on account of this name of Rodha, or garden, that the columns within its limits are painted to the height of five or six feet with flowers and arabesques, to assist the imagination, which otherwise might not readily discover any resemblance between this place and the Garden of Eden. Two mahrabs, or niches, towards which the people turn when praying, as they indicate the exact bearing of the Kaaba, [The Mahrab was turned S. 11 W. (variation not computed), which is therefore taken here as the exact bearing of Mekka.] are placed on both sides of the pulpit, and are, together with it, of exquisite workmanship, being the finest mosaic. One niche was sent from Egypt as a present to the mosque, by Kait Beg, and the other from Constantinople by Sultan Soleyman ibn Selym. The floor of the Rodha is covered with a number of handsome carpets, sent hither from Constantinople; and, as at Mekka, they are the only articles of real value that I saw in the mosque, and may be worth, altogether, about a thousand pounds. The upper part of the colonnades is covered with mats. The congregation assembles upon the carpets of the Rodha, this being the favourite spot for prayers. No ceremony is observed in the seats; every one may place himself where he likes: it is however understood, that the first row nearest to the partition, and those especially [p.338] in the immediate neighbourhood of the Imam, are destined for people of rank, and no one who does not belong to that class intrudes himself there. The entrance to the Rodha, near Báb-es�-Salám, has a splendid appearance: the gaudy colours displayed on every side, the glazed columns, fine carpets, rich pavement, the gilt inscriptions on the wall to the south, and the glittering railing of the Hedjra in the back-ground, dazzle the sight at first; but, after a short pause, it becomes evident that this is a display of tinsel decoration, and not of real riches. When we recollect that this spot is one of the holiest of the Mohammedan world, and celebrated for its splendour, magnificence, and costly ornaments, and that it is decorated with the united pious donations of all the devotees of that religion, we are still more forcibly struck with its paltry appearance. It will bear no comparison with the shrine of the most insignificant saint in any Catholic church in Europe, and may serve as a convincing proof, that in pious gifts the Mohammedan have at no period equalled the Catholic devotees; without noticing many other circumstances, which help to strengthen the belief, that, whatever may be their superstition and fanaticism, Mohammedans are never inclined to make as many pecuniary sacrifices for their religious establishments, as Catholic, and even Protestant Christians do for theirs. The ceremonies on visiting the mosque are the following:--At first the pilgrim, before he enters the town, is to purify himself by a total ablution, and, if possible, to perfume his body with sweet odours. When he arrives in sight of the dome, he is to utter some pious ejaculations. When he intends to visit the temple, the cicerone, or, as he is here called, Mezowar, leads him into the gate called Báb-es�-Salám, passing his right foot first over the threshold, which is the general custom in all mosques, and particularly insisted upon here. While reciting some prayers, he steps forward into the Rodha, where he performs a short prayer, with four prostrations, as a salutation to the mosque, during which he is enjoined to recite the two short chapters (109th and 112th) of the Koran. He then passes through one of the small doors of the partition of the Rodha, and walks slowly towards the railing of the Hedjra, before the western window of which, on its [p.339] south side, he takes his stand; with arms half raised he addresses his invocations to Mohammed, in the words �Salam aleyka ya Mohammed, Salam ya Rasoul illah,� &c. recapitulating about twenty of the different surnames or honorable titles of Mohammed, and prefixing to each of them �Salam aleyk.� He next invokes his intercession in heaven, and distinctly mentions the names of all those of his relations and friends whom he is desirous to include in his prayers: it is for this reason, that an inhabitant of Medina never receives a letter from abroad, without being entreated, at the end of it, to mention the writer�s name at the tomb of the Prophet. If the pilgrim is delegated on the pilgrimage for another, he is bound here to mention the name of his principal. In this prayer an expression is used, as at all the places visited for their sanctity about the town, but which appeared to me little calculated to inspire the visiter with humane or charitable feelings; among other favours supplicated in prayer to the Deity, the following request is made: �Destroy our enemies, and may the torments of hell-fire be their lot.� After these prayers are said, the visiter is desired to remain a few minutes with his bead pressed close against the window, in silent adoration; he then steps back, and performs a prayer of four prostrations, under the neighbouring colonnade, opposite the railing; after which he approaches the second window, on this same side, said to face the tomb of Abou Beker, and goes through prayers similar to those said at the former window, (called Shobák-en�-Neby,) which are recited in honour of Abou Beker. Stepping back a second time to the colonnade, he again performs a short prayer, and then advances to the third window on this side of the railing, which is opposite that part of the curtain behind which the tomb of Omar is said to lie: similar prayers are said here. When this ceremony is finished, the visiter walks round the S.E. corner of the Hedjra, and presents himself before the tomb of Setna Fatme, where, after four prostrations, a prayer is addressed to Fatme- e�-Zohera, or the bright blooming Fatme, as she is called. He then returns to the Rodha, where a prayer is said as a salutation to the Deity on leaving the mosque, which completes this ceremony, the performance of which occupies at most twenty minutes. [p.340]On every spot where prayers are to be said, people sit with hand- kerchiefs spread out to receive the gifts of the visiters, which appear to be considered less as alms, than as a sort of toll; at least, a well- dressed visiter would find it difficult to make his way without paying these taxes. Before the window of Setna Fatme sits a party of women, (Fatme being herself a female saint,) who likewise receive gifts in their handkerchiefs. In the Rodha stand the eunuchs, or the guardians of the temple, waiting till the visiter has finished his last prayer of salutation, to wish him joy on having successfully completed the zyara or visit, and to receive their fees; and the great gate of Báb-es�-Salám is constantly crowded with poor, who closely beset the visiter, on his leaving the mosque: the porter also expects his compliment, as a matter of right. The whole visit cost me about fifteen piastres, and I gave ten piastres to my cicerone; but I might, perhaps, have got through for half that sum. The ceremonies may be repeated as often as the visiter wishes: but few perform them all, except on arriving at Medina, and when on the point of departing. It is a general practice, however, to go every day, at least once, to the window opposite Mohammed�s tomb, and recite there a short prayer: many persons do it whenever they enter the mosque. It is also a rule never to sit down in the mosque, for any of the usual daily prayers, without having previously addressed an invocation to the Prophet, with uplifted hands, and the face turned towards his tomb. A similar practice is prevalent in many other mosques in the East, which contain the tomb of a saint. The Moslim divines affirm, that prayers recited in the mosque of Medina are peculiarly acceptable to the Deity; and invite the faithful to perform this pilgrimage, by telling them that one prayer said in sight of the Hedjra is as efficacious as a thousand said in any other mosque except that of Mekka. I have already stated, that the north and east sides, and part of the west side, of the mosque are by no means so well built as the south side, where are the Hedjra and Rodha. The columns in those parts are more slender, and less carefully painted; the pavement is coarse, and no kind of ornament is seen on the white plastered walls, [p.341] except on the east side, where the coarsely painted representations of the mosque of St. Sophia, of Sultan Ahmed, of Bayazed Waly, and of Scutari, celebrated temples in the capital, attract some notice: they are painted in water-colours, upon the white wall, without the smallest attention to perspective. The whole north side was at present under repair; and the old pavement had been removed, to be replaced by a better one. The open court enclosed between the colonnades is unpaved, and covered with sand and gravel. In the midst of it stands a small building, with a vaulted roof, where the lamps of the mosque are kept. Near it is a small enclosure of low wooden railing, which contains some palm-trees, held sacred by the Moslims, because they are said to have been planted by Fatme, and another tree, of which the stem only now remains, and which I believe to have been a nebek, or lotus-tree. By it is a well, called Bir-en-Neby, the water of which is brackish, and for this reason, probably, enjoys no reputation for holiness. Samhoudy says that it is called Es-Sháme. In the evening lamps are lighted round the colonnades; but principally on the south side, where they are in greater numbers than on the others; they are suspended from iron bars, extending from column to column. The eunuchs and the servants of the mosque are employed in lighting them; for a small donation to the latter, the visiters to the tomb are permitted to assist, and many foreign hadjys are anxious to perform that office, which is thought meritorious, and for which they are particularly praised by the eunuchs: but they are never allowed to light the lamps in the interior of the Hedjra. On the sides of the Mambar, or the pulpit, and of both the Mahrabs, large wax candles are placed, as thick as a man�s body, and twelve feet high, which are lighted in the evening by means of a ladder placed near them. They are sent from Constantinople. The lady of Mohammed Aly, who was now at Medina, had brought several of these candles as a present to the mosque, which had been transported with great difficulty from Yembo to this place. The mosque has four gates: 1. Báb-es-Salám, formerly called Báb Merouán, (according to Samhoudy), on the south-west corner, is the [p.342] principal one, by which the pilgrim is obliged to enter the mosque at his first visit. It is a beautiful arched gateway, much superior to any of those of the great mosque at Mekka, though inferior in size to several of them, and handsomer than any gate of a mosque I had before seen in the East. Its sides are inlaid with marble and glazed tiles of various colours; and a number of inscriptions in relief, in large gilt characters, above and on the sides of the arch, give it a very dazzling appearance. Just before this gate is a small fountain, filled by the water of the canal, where people usually perform their ablutions, if they do not choose to do it in the mosque itself, where jars are kept for the purpose. 2. Báb Errhame, formerly called Báb Atake, in the west wall, by which the dead are carried into the mosque, when prayers are to be read over them. 3. Báb Ed� Djeber, called often likewise Báb Djybrail; and 4. Báb el. Nesa, on the east wall, the first close to the tomb of Setna Fatme, the other a little farther on. A few steps lead from the neighbouring streets up to the gates, the area of the mosque being on a somewhat higher level, contrary to what is seen at Mekka. About three hours after sun-set the gates are regularly shut, by means of folding-doors coated with iron, and not opened till about an hour before dawn; but those who wish to pray all night in the mosque, can easily obtain permission from the eunuch in guard, who sleeps near the Hedjra. During Ramadhan, the mosque is kept open the whole night. On the north-west and north sides are several small doors opening into the mosque, belonging to public schools or medreses originally annexed to it, but which have now forfeited their ancient distinction. On this side the schoolmasters sit with the boys in a circle round them, and teach them the rudiments of reading. The police of the mosque, the office of washing the Hedjra and the whole of the building, of lighting the lamps, &c. &c. is entrusted to the care of forty or fifty eunuchs, who have an establishment similar to that of the eunuchs of the Beitullah at Mekka; but they are persons of greater consequence here; they are more richly dressed, though in the [p.343] same costume; usually wear fine Cashmere shawls, and gowns of the best Indian silk stuffs, and assume airs of great importance. When they pass through the Bazar, every body hastens to kiss their hands; and they exercise considerable influence in the internal affairs of the town. They have large stipends, which are sent annually from Constantinople by the Syrian Hadj caravan; they share also in all donations made to the mosque, and they expect presents from every rich hadjy, besides what they take as fees from the visiters of the Hedjra. They live together in one of the best quarters of Medina, to the eastward of the mosque, and their houses are said to be furnished in a more costly manner than any others in the town. The adults are all married to black or Abyssinian slaves. The black eunuchs, unlike those of Europe, become emaciated; their features are extremely coarse, nothing but the bones being distinguishable; their hands are those of a skeleton, and their whole appearance is extremely disgusting. By the help of thick clothing they hide their leanness; but their bony features are so prominent, that they can be distinguished at first sight. Their voice, however, undergoes little, if any change, and is far from being reduced to that fine feminine tone so much admired in the Italian Singers. The chief of the eunuchs is called Sheikh el Haram; he is also the chief of the mosque, and the principal person in the town; being consequently of much higher rank than the Aga, or chief of the eunuchs at Mekka. He is himself a eunuch, sent from Constantinople, and usually belonging to the court of the Grand Signor, who sends him hither by way of punishment or exile, in the same manner as Pashas are sent to Djidda. The present Sheikh el Haram had been formerly Kislar Agassi, or prefect of the women of the Emperor Selym, which is one of the first charges in the court. Whether it was the dignity of his former employ, of which the eastern grandees usually retain the rank through life, even if they are dispossessed of it, or his new dignity of Sheikh el Haram, that gave him his importance, I am unable to say; but he took, on every occasion, precedence of Tousoun Pasha, whose rank was that of Pasha of Djidda, and of three tails; and the latter, whenever they met, kissed the Sheikh�s hands, which I have [p.344] seen him do in the mosque. He has a court composed in a manner similar to that of a Pasha, but much less numerous. His dress is given with the most minute accuracy in D�Ohhson�s work: it consists of a fine pelisse, over a rich embroidered silk gown, made in the fashion of the capital; a khandjar, or dagger, set with diamonds, stuck in his belt; and a kaouk, or high bonnet, on his head. The present Sheikh kept about a dozen horses: whenever he walked out, a number of servants, or Ferráshyn of the mosque, armed with large sticks, walked before him. The person of the Sheikh el Haram was respected by the Wahabys: when Saoud took Medina, he permitted the Sheikh, with several other eunuchs, to retire to Yembo, with his wives, and all his baggage and valuables; but would not receive another into the town; and the eunuchs themselves then appointed one of their number to preside over them, till after an interval of eight years, when the present chief was sent from Constantinople; but his influence over the affairs of the town is reduced to a mere shadow of what it was. A eunuch of the mosque would be highly affronted if he were so termed by any person. Their usual title is Aga. Their chief takes the title of Highness, or Sadetkom, like a Pasha, or the Sherif of Mekka. Besides those eunuchs, the mosque reckons among its servants a number of the inhabitants of the town; these are called Ferráshyn, a name implying that their duty consists in keeping the mosque clean, and spreading the carpets. Some of them attend at the mosque to light the lamps, and to clean the floor, together with the eunuchs; with others it is a mere sinecure, and some of the first people of the town belong to this body. I am unacquainted how the office is obtained, but believe that it is purchased from the Sheikh el Haram. The name of each Ferrásh is put down in the lists which are yearly sent to Constantinople, and they all share in the stipends which the town receives from that capital, and the whole Turkish empire, in which there is always a considerable portion for the Ferráshyn. It would appear that the office is hereditary; at least often transmitted from father to son. The number is fixed at five hundred; but to [p.345] increase it, an expedient has, according to D�Ohhson, been adopted, of dividing each number into half, and third, and eighth shares; and any fractional part may be bestowed upon an individual, who thus becomes an inferior member of the corps. Many of these Ferráshyn are in partibus, the title having been given to great foreign hadjys, dispersed over the whole empire, who think themselves honoured in possessing it. Many of these Ferráshyn are, at the same time ciceroni, or Mezowars, and exercise also, the very lucrative profession of saying prayers for the absent. Most hadjys of any consequence who pass here, form an acquaintance with some of these men, their guides over the holy places. On their return home, they often make it a pious rule to send annually some money, one or two zecchins, to their ancient cicerone, who is thus bound in honour to recite some prayers, in the name of the donor, before the window of the Hedjra. These remittances, wrapped up in small sealed papers, with the address upon them, are collected in every province or principal town of Anatolia, or Turkey in Europe, from whence they are principally sent, and brought to Medina by the Surra writer of Constantinople, who accompanies the pilgrim caravan, and is at the head of its financial department. Some of the principal Ferráshyns have monopolized whole towns and provinces; the natives of those parts, who pass through Medina, being introduced to them by their countrymen. The correspondents of others are dispersed over the whole empire. The profits which they derive from this profession, which resemble those accruing to Roman Catholic priests for the reading of masses, are very considerable: I have heard that some of the principal Ferráshyn have from four to five hundred correspondents dispersed over Turkey, from each of whom they receive yearly stipends, the smallest of which is one Venetian zecchin. The number of Ferráshyn, as well as of Mezowars, is very great. The duties of their office can be so easily performed, that they are for the greater part a very idle class. During the time of the Wahabys, however, their perquisites ceased; and, as few pilgrims then arrived, they were reduced to great extremities, from which they are now beginning slowly to recover. They complain, that the long cessation of the yearly stipends has accustomed so many original correspondents [p.346] to withhold their gifts, that, although the caravan intercourse is re-established, little inclination appears to renew them. The Wahabys are forbidden by their law to visit the tomb of the Prophet, or to stand before the Hedjra and pray for his intercession in heaven. As Mohammed is considered by them a mere mortal, his tomb is thought unworthy of any particular notice. It was as much a strict religious principle, as a love of plunder, that induced Saoud to carry off the treasures of the Hedjra, which were thought little adapted in decency and humility to adorn a grave. The tomb itself he left untouched; and, for once, gave way to the national feelings of the Arabians, and perhaps to the compunctions of his own conscience, which could not entirely divest itself of earlier impressions; he neither removed the brocade from the tomb, nor the curtain which encloses it. Dreams, it is said, terrified him, or withheld his sacrilegious hand; and he in like manner respected that of Fatme: but, on the other hand, he ruined, without exception, all the buildings of the public burial-ground, where many great saints repose, and destroyed even the sculptured and ornamented stones of those tombs, a simple block being thought by him quite sufficient to cover the remains of the dead. In prohibiting any visit to the tomb, the Wahabys never entertained the idea of discontinuing the visit to the mosque. That edifice having been built by the Prophet, at the remarkable epoch of his flight from Mekka, which laid the first foundations of Islam, it is considered by them as the most holy spot upon earth, next to the Beitullah of Mekka. Saoud had indeed once given orders, that none of these Turkish pilgrims, who still flocked from Yembo to this tomb, even after the interruption of the regular pilgrim-caravans, should any more be permitted to enter Medina: and this he did to prevent what he called their idolatrous praying; a practice which it was impossible to abolish without excluding them at once from the mosque; this prohibition Saoud did not think proper to enforce: he therefore preferred keeping them from the city, under pretence that their improper behaviour rendered such a proceeding necessary. He himself, with all his adherents, often paid a devout visit to the holy mosque; and in the treaty of peace which his son Abdallah, concluded with [p.347] Tousoun Pasha in 1815, it is expressly stipulated that the Wahabys should be permitted to visit the Mesdjed-e�-Neby, or the mosque of the Prophet, (not his tomb,) without molestation. Even with the orthodox Moslims, the visit to this tomb and mosque is merely a meritorious action, which has nothing to do with the obligations to perform the Hadj, incumbent upon the faithful; but which, like the visit to the mosque at Jerusalem, and the tomb of Abraham at Hebron, is thought to be an act highly acceptable to the Deity, and to expiate many sins, while it entitles the visiter, at the same time, to the pratronage of the Prophet and the Patriarch in heaven: and it is said, that he who recites forty prayers in this mosque, will be delivered from hell-fire and torments after death. As saints, however, are often more venerated than the Deity himself, who it is well known accepts of no other offerings than a pure conscience or sincere repentance, and is therefore not so easily appeased; so the visit to Medina is nearly as much esteemed as that to the house of God, the Beitullah at Mekka; and the visiters crowd with more zeal and eagerness to this shrine, than they do even to the Kaaba. Throughout the year, swarms of pilgrims arrive from all parts of the Mohammedan world, usually by the way of Yembo. The Moggrebyns especially seem the most fervent in their visits: they are, however, brought here by another object, for in this town is situated the tomb of the Imám Málek ibn Anes, the founder of the orthodox sect of the Malekites, to which belong the Moggrebyns. The mosque at Mekka is visited daily by female hadjys, who have their own station assigned to them. At Medina, on the contrary, it is thought very indecorous in women to enter the mosque. Those who come here from foreign parts, visit the tomb during the night, after the last prayers, while the women resident in the town hardly ever venture to pass the threshold: my old landlady, who had lived close to it for fifty years, assured me that she had been only once in her life within its precincts, and that females of a loose character only are daring enough to perform their prayers there. In general, women are seldom seen in the mosques in the East, although free access is not forbidden. A few are sometimes met in the most holy temples, as that [p.348] of the Azhar at Cairo, where they offer up their thanks to Providence, for any favour which they may have taken a vow thus to acknowledge. Even in their houses the women seldom pray, except devout old ladies; and it is remarked as an extraordinary accomplishment in a woman, if she knows her prayers well, and has got by heart some chapters of the Koran. Women being considered in the East as inferior creatures, to whom some learned commentators on the Koran deny even the entrance into Paradise, their husbands care little about their strict observance of religious rites, and many of them even dislike it, because it raises them to a nearer level with themselves; and it is remarked, that the woman makes a bad wife, who can once claim the respect to which she is entitled by the regular reading of prayers. There are no sacred pigeons in this mosque, as in that at Mekka; but the quantity of woollen carpets spread in it, where the most dirty Arabs sit down by the side of the best dressed hadjys, have rendered it the favourite abode of millions of other animals less harmless than pigeons, and a great plague to all visiters, who transfer them to their private lodgings, which thus swarm with vermin. This mosque being much smaller than that of Mekka, and a strict police kept up in it by the eunuchs, it is less infested with beggars and idle characters than the former. It should seem also, that the tomb of Mohammed inspires the people of Medina with much greater awe, and religious respect, than the Kaaba does those of Mekka; which sentiment deters them from approaching it with idle thoughts, or as a mere pastime: much more decorum is therefore observed within its precincts than within those of the Beitullah. As at Mekka, a number of Khatybs, Imáms, Mueddins, and other persons belonging to the body of Olemas, are attached to the mosque. The olemas here are said to be more learned than their brethren of Mekka; and those of former days have produced many valuable writings. At present, however, there is less appearance of learning here than at Mekka. During my visits to the mosque I never saw a native Arab teaching knowledge of any kind, and only a few Turkish hadjys explaining some religious books in their own language, to a very few auditors, from whom they collected trifling sums, to defray [p.349] the expenses of their journey home. Tousoun Pasha, the only one of his family who is not an avowed atheist, frequently attended those lectures, and sat in the same circle with the other persons present. I was told, that in the medrese called El Hamdye some public lectures are delivered; but I had no opportunity of ascertaining the fact. I believe that there is not in the whole Mohammedan empire a town so large as Medina where lectures are not held in the mosques; that this was formerly the case also in this town, is proved by the many pious foundations established exclusively for this purpose, the emoluments of which many olemas still enjoy without performing the duties. The haram or mosque of Medina, like that at Mekka, possesses considerable property and annuities in every part of the empire. Its yearly income is divided among the eunuchs, the olemas, and the Ferráshyn. The daily expenses of lighting and repairing the building are made to account for the expenditure of the whole. As, excepting the precious articles contained in the Hedjra, no money-treasure has ever been kept in the mosque, a double advantage accrues to the inhabitants of the town, numbers of whom gain a comfortable livelihood, while all are exempted from the danger and the internal broils which would, no doubt, occur, were it known that a large sum of money might be obtained by seizing the mosque. The days are past, in the East, when a public treasure can be deposited in a place sufficiently sacred to guard it from the hands of plunderers. The smallest part of the income of all public foundations is spent in the relief of the poor, or the pious purpose to which it was destined: it serves merely to pamper a swarm of idle hypocrites, who have no other motives for acquiring a smattering of learning, than the hope of sharing in the illegal profits that accrue to the guardians or agents of these institutions. Like most of the public buildings in the East, the approach to the mosque is choked on all sides by private habitations, so as to leave, in some parts, only an open street between them and the walls of the mosque; while in others the houses are built against the walls, and conceal them. Either three or five minarets (I forget [p.350] which) are erected on different sides of the building; and one of them is said to stand on the spot where Bellal, the Abyssinian, the Mueddin of Mohammed, and one of his great favourites, used to call the faithful to prayers. The following brief history of the mosque is taken from Samhoudy, the historian of Medina: �The mosque of Medina was founded by Mohammed himself, and is therefore called his mosque, or Mesdjed-e�-Neby. When he reached the city, at that time an open settlement of Arabs, called Yathreb, (subsequently Medina) after his flight from Mekka, and was sure of being now among friends, he erected a small chapel on the spot where his camel had first rested in the town, having bought the ground from the Arabs; and he enclosed it with mud walls, upon which he placed a roof of palm-leaves, supported by the stems of palm-trees for pillars: this edifice he soon after enlarged, having laid the foundations with stone. Instead of the Mahrab, or niche, which is placed in mosques to show the direction in which the faithful ought to turn in their prayers, Mohammed placed a large stone, which was at first turned to the north, towards Jerusalem, and placed in the direction of the Kaaba of Mekka, in the second year of the Hedjra, when the ancient Kebly was changed. �Omar ibn el Khatab widened the mosque with mud walls and palm-branches, and, instead of the stems of palms, he made pillars of mud. He first carried a wall round the Hedjra, or the place where the body of Mohammed had been deposited at his death, and which was at first enclosed only by palm-branches. The square enclosed by the walls of the mosque was increased to one hundred and forty pikes in length, and one hundred and twenty in breadth, A.H. 17. �Othman built the walls of hewn stone: in A.H. 29, he renewed the earthen pillars, strengthening the new ones with hoops of iron, and made the roof of the precious Indian wood called Sadj. The square was enlarged to one hundred and sixty pikes by one hundred and fifty; and six gates were opened into it. �Wolyd, he to whom Damascus owes its beautiful mosque, called Djama el Ammouy, further enlarged the Mesdjed-e�-Neby in A.H. 91. [p.351] Till then, the houses where the wives and daughter and female relations of Mohammed had resided, stood close to the Hedjra, beyond the precincts of the mosque, into which they had private gates. Notwithstanding the great opposition he encountered, Wolyd compelled the women to leave their houses, and to accept a fair price for them; he then razed them, and extended the wall of the mosque on that side. The Greek Emperor, with whom he happened to be at peace, sent him workmen from Constantinople, who assisted in the new building; [Makrisi, in his account of various sovereigns who performed the pilgrimage, says that the Greek Emperor (whom he does not name) sent one hundred workmen to Wolyd, and a present of a hundred thousand methkal of gold, together with forty loads of small cut stones, for a mosaic pavement.] several of whom, being Christians, behaved, as it is related, with great indecency; one of them, in particular, when in the act of defiling the very tomb of the Prophet, was killed by a stone which fell from the roof. New stone pillars were now placed in the mosque, with gilt capitals. The walls were cased with marble variously adorned, and parts of them likewise gilt, and the whole building thus completely renewed. �About A.H. 160, the Khalife El Mohdy still further enlarged the enclosure, and made it two hundred and forty pikes in length; and in this state the mosque remained for several centuries. �Hakem b�amr Illah, the mad King of Egypt, who sent one of his emissaries to destroy the black stone of the Kaaba, also made an unsuccessful attempt to take from the mosque of Medina Mohammed�s tomb, and transport it to Cairo. In A.H. 557, in the time of El Melek el Adel Noureddyn, king of Egypt, two Christians in disguise were discovered at Medina, who had made a subterraneous passage from a neighbouring house into the Hedjra, and stolen from thence articles of great value. Being put to the torture, they confessed having been sent by the King of Spain for that purpose; and they paid for their temerity with their lives. Sultan Noureddyn, after this, carried a trench round the Hedjra, and filled it with lead, to prevent similar attempts. �In A.H. 654, a few months after the eruption of a volcano near the [p.352] town, the mosque caught fire, and was burnt to the ground; but the Korans deposited in the Hedjra were saved. This accident was ascribed to the Persian sectaries of Beni Hosseyn, who were then the guardians of the tomb. In the following year its restoration was undertaken at the expense of the Khalife Mostasem Billah, Ibn el Montaser Billah, and the lord of Yemen, El Mothaffer Shams eddyn Yousef, and completed by El Dhaher Bybars, Sultan of Egypt, in A.H. 657. The dome over the tomb was erected in 678. Several kings of Egypt successively improved and enlarged the building, till A.H. 886, when it was again destroyed by fire occasioned by lightning. The destruction was complete; all the walls of the mosque, and part of those of the Hedjra, the roof, and one hundred and twenty columns fell: all the books in the mosque were destroyed; but the fire appears to have spared the interior of the tomb in the Hedjra. Kayd Beg, then king of Egypt, to whom that country and the Hedjaz owe a number of public works, completely rebuilt the mosque, as it now stands, in A.H. 892. He sent three hundred workmen from Cairo for that purpose. The interior of the Hedjra was cleared, and three deep graves were found in the inside, full of rubbish; but the author of this history, who himself entered it, saw no traces of tombs. The original place of Mohammed�s tomb was ascertained with great difficulty. The walls of the Hedjra were then rebuilt, and the iron railing placed round it which is now there. The dome was again raised over it; the gates were distributed as they now are; a new mambar, or pulpit, was sent as a present from Cairo, and the whole mosque assumed its present form. Since the above period, a few immaterial improvements have been made by the Othman Emperors of Constantinople.� [p.353]GARDENS and plantations, as I have already said, surround the town of Medina, with its suburbs, on three sides, and to the eastward and southward extend to the distance of six or eight miles. They consist principally of date-groves and wheat and barley fields; the latter usually enclosed with mud walls, and containing small habitations for the cultivators. Their houses in the immediate neighbourhood of the town are well built, often with a vestibule supported by columns, and a vaulted sitting-room adjoining, and a tank cased with stone in front of them. They are the summer residence of many families of the town, who make it a custom to pass there a couple of months in the hottest season. Few of the date-groves, unless those dispersed over the fields, are at all enclosed; and most of them are irrigated only by the torrents and winter rains. The gardens themselves are very low, the earth being taken from the middle parts of them, and heaped up round the walls, so as to leave the space destined for agriculture, like a pit, ten or twelve feet below the surface of the plain: this is done to get at a better soil, experience having shown that the upper stratum is much more impregnated with salt, and less fit for cultivation, than the lower. No great industry is any where applied; much ground continues waste; and even where the fields are laid out, no economy whatever is shown in the culture of them. Many spots are wholly barren; and the saline nature of the soil prevents the seed from growing. The ground towards the village of Koba, and beyond it, in a south and east direction, is said to consist of good earth, without any saline mixture; and in value it is consequently much higher than that near the town, which, after rains, I have seen completely covered for several days with a saline crust, partly deposited from the waters, and partly evaporated from the soil itself, in the more elevated spots which the waters do not reach. Most of the gardens and plantations belong to the people of the [p.354] town; and the Arabs who cultivate them (called nowakhele) are mostly farmers. The property of the gardens is either mulk or wakf; the former, if they belong to an individual; the latter, if they belong to the mosque, or any of the medreses or pious foundations, from which they are farmed, at very long leases, by the people of Medina themselves, who re-let them on shorter terms to the cultivators. They pay no duties whatever. Not the smallest land-tax, or miri, is levied; an immunity which, I believe, all the fertile oases of the Hedjaz enjoyed previous to the invasion by the Wahabys: these, however, had no sooner taken possession of the town, than they taxed the soil, according to their established rule. The fields were assessed, not by their produce in corn, but in dates, the number of date-trees in every field being usually proportionate to the fertility of the soil, and also to its crop of grain. From every erdeb of dates the Wahaby tax-gatherers took their quota either in kind or in money, according to the market-price they then bore. These regulations caused the Wahabys to be disliked here much more than they were at Mekka, where the inhabitants had no fields to be taxed; and where the tax which the Wahabys had imposed was dispensed with, or rather given up to the Sherif, the ancient governor of the town, as I have already remarked. The Mekkans, besides, carried on commerce, from which they could at all times derive some profit, independent of the advantages accruing to them from the foreign hadjys. The people of Medina, on the contrary, are very petty merchants; and their main support depends upon the pilgrims, the yearly stipends from Turkey, or their landed property. As they were obliged entirely to renounce the former, and were curtailed in the profits from the latter; and as the Wahabys showed much less respect for their venerated tomb than they did for the Beitullah at Mekka, we cannot wonder that their name is execrated by the people of Medina, and loaded with the most opprobrious epithets. The principal produce of the fields [They are here called Beled, (plur. Boldan): the beled of such a one.] about Medina, is wheat and barley, some clover, and garden-fruits, but chiefly dates. Barley is [p.355] grown in much larger quantity than wheat; and barley-bread forms a principal article of food with the lower classes. Its harvest is in the middle of March. The crops are very thin; but the produce is of a good quality, and sells in the market of Medina at about fifteen per cent higher than the Egyptian. After harvest, the fields are left fallow till the next year; for though there is sufficient water in the wells [Every garden or field has its well, from whence the water is drawn up by asses, cows, or camels, in large leathern buckets. I believe there are no fields that are not regularly watered, and the seed of none is left merely to the chance of the winter-rains.] to produce a second irrigation, the soil is too poor to suffer it, without becoming entirely exhausted. No oats are sown here, nor any where else in the Hedjaz. The fruit-trees are found principally on the side of the village of Koba. Pomegranates and grapes are said to be excellent, especially the former: there are likewise some peaches, bananas, and, in the gardens of Koba, a few water-melons, and vegetables, as spinach, turnips, leeks, onions, carrots, and beans, but in very small quantities. The nebek-tree, producing the lotus, is extremely common in the plain of Medina, as well as in the neighbouring mountains; and incredible quantities of its fruit are brought to market in March, when the lower classes make it a prime article of food. But the staple produce of Medina is dates, for the excellence of which fruit this neighbourhood is celebrated throughout Arabia. The date-trees stand either in the enclosed fields, where they are irrigated together with the seeds in the ground, or in the open plain, where they are watered by the rains only: the fruit of the latter, though less abundant, is more esteemed. Numbers of them grow wild on the plain, but every tree has its owner. Their size is, in general, inferior to that of the Egyptian palm-tree, fed by the rich soil of the country, and the waters of the Nile; but their fruit is much sweeter, and has a more fragrant smell. The many different uses to which almost every part of the date-tree is applied, have already been mentioned by several travellers; they render it as dear to the settled Arab, as the camel is to the Bedouin. [p.356] Mohammed, in one of the sayings recorded of him, compares the virtuous and generous man to this noble tree. �He stands erect before his Lord; in his every action he follows the impulse received from above, and his whole life is devoted to the welfare of his fellow- creatures.� [See also the 1st Psalm, v. 3.--�And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water,� &c.] The people of the Hedjaz, like the Egyptians, make use of the leaves, the outer and inner bark of the trunk, and the fleshy substance at the root of the leaves where they spring from the trunk; and, besides this, they use the kernels of the fruit, as food for their cattle: they soak them for two days in water, when they become softened, and then give them to camels, cows, and sheep, instead of barley; and they are said to be much more nutritive than that grain. There are shops at Medina in which nothing else is sold but date-kernels; and the beggars are continually employed, in all the main streets, in picking up those that are thrown away. In the province of Nedjed the Arabs grind the kernels for the same purpose; but this is not done in the Hedjaz. Various kinds of dates are found at Medina, as well as in all other fruitful vallies of this country; and every place, almost, has its own species, which grows no where else. I have heard that upwards of one hundred different sorts of dates grow in the immediate neighbourhood of the town; the author of the description of Medina mentions one hundred and thirty. Of the most common sorts are the Djebely, the cheapest, and I believe the most universally spread in the Hedjaz; the Heloua; the Heleya, a very small date, not larger than a mulberry; it has its name from its extraordinary sweetness, in which it does not yield to the finest figs from Smyrna, and like them is covered, when dried, by a saccharine crust. The inhabitants relate, that Mohammed performed a great miracle with this date: he put a stone of it into the earth, which immediately took root, grew up, and within five minutes a full-grown tree, covered with fruit, stood before him. Another miracle is related of the species called El Syhány, a tree of [p.357] which addressed a loud �Salam Aleykum� to the Prophet, as he passed under it. The Birny is esteemed the most wholesome, as it is certainly the easiest of digestion: it was the favourite of Mohammed, who advised the Arabs to eat seven of its fruit every morning before breakfast. The Djeleby is the scarcest of them all: it is about three inches in length, and one in breadth, and has a peculiarly agreeable taste, although not so sweet as the Heleya. It seems that it grows with great difficulty; for there are, at most, not more than one hundred trees of this species, and they are less fertile than any of the other. They grow in no part of the Hedjaz, but here and in the groves of Yembo el Nakhel. The price of the Birny is twenty paras per keile, a measure, containing at least one hundred and twenty dates, while the Djeleby is sold at eight dates for twenty paras: they are in great request with the hadjys, who usually carry some of these dates home, to present to their friends, as coming from the city of the Prophet; and small boxes, holding about one hundred of them, are made at Medina, for their conveyance. Dates form an article of food by far the most essential to the lower classes of Medina: their harvest is expected with as much anxiety, and attended with as much general rejoicings, as the vintage in the south of Europe; and if the crop fails, which often happens, as these trees are seldom known to produce abundantly for three or four successive years, or is eaten up by the locusts, universal gloom overspreads the population, as if a famine were apprehended. One species of the Medina dates, the name of which I have forgotten, remains perfectly green although ripe, and dried; another retains a bright saffron colour: these dates are threaded on strings, and sold all over the Hedjaz, where they go by the name of Kalayd es� Sham, or necklaces of the North; and the young children frequently wear them round the neck. The first dates are eaten in the begining of June, and at that period of their growth are called Rotab; but the general date- harvest is at the end of that month. In Egypt it is a month later. Dates are dressed in many different ways by the Arabs; boiled in milk, broiled with butter; or reduced to a thick pulp [p.358] by boiling in water, over which honey is poured; and the Arabs say that a good housewife will daily furnish her lord, for a month, a dish of dates differently dressed. In these gardens a very common tree is the Ithel, a species of tamarisk, cultivated for its hard wood, of which the Arabs make their camels� saddles, and every utensil that requires strong handles. In the gardens we seldom find the ground perfectly level, and the cultivation is often interrupted by heaps of rocks. On the N.W. and W. sides of the town, the whole plain is so rocky as to defeat all attempts at improvement. The cultivable soil is clay, mixed with a good deal of chalk and sand, and is of a grayish white colour: in other parts it consists of a yellow loam, and also of a substance very similar to bole- earth; small conical pieces of the latter, about an inch and a half long, and dried in the sun, are sold, suspended on a piece of riband, to the visiters of Medina. It is related that Mohammed cured a Bedouin of Beni Hareth, and several others, of a fever by washing their bodies with water in which this earth had been dissolved; and the pilgrims are eager to carry home a memorial of this miracle. The earth is taken from a ditch at a place called El Medshounye, in the neighbourhood of the town. All the rocky places, as well as the lower ridge of the northern mountainous chain, are covered by a layer of volcanic rock: it is of a bluish black colour, very porous, yet heavy, and, hard, not glazed, like schlacken, and contains frequently small white substances in its pores of the size of a pin�s head, which I never found crystallised. The plain has a completely black colour from this rock, and the small pieces with which it is overspread. I met with no lava, although the nature of the ground seemed strongly to indicate the neighbourhood of a volcano. Had I enjoyed better health, I should have made some excursions to the more distant parts of the gardens of Medina, to look for specimens of minerals; but the first days of my stay were taken up in making out a plan of the town, and gaining information on its inhabitants; and I was not afterwards capable of the slightest bodily exertion. It was not till my return to Cairo, that, in reading the description of Medina, which I had purchased at the former place, (and of [p.259] which, and of the descriptions of Mekka, I could never find copies in the Hedjaz, notwithstanding all my endeavours,) I met with the account of an earthquake and a volcanic eruption which took place in the immediate neighbourhood of Medina about the middle of the thirteenth century; and upon inquiry I learnt from a man of Medina, established at Cairo, that the place of the stream of lava is still shown, at about one hour E. of the town. During my stay, I remember to have once made the observation to my cicerone, in going with him to Djebel Ohod, that the country appeared as if all burnt by fire; but I received an unmeaning reply; no hint or information afterwards in the town which could lead me to suppose that I was near so interesting, a phenomenon of nature. Some extracts from the work to which I have alluded, describing this eruption, may be thought worthy of the reader�s attention, and are given in the subjoined note. [�On the first of the month Djomad el Akhyr, in A.H. 654, a slight earthquake was felt in the town; on the third, another stronger shock took place, during the day; about two o�clock in the ensuing morning, repeated violent shocks awakened the inhabitants, increasing in force during the rest of the morning, and continuing at intervals till Friday the sixth of the month. Many houses and walls tumbled down. On Friday morning a thundering noise was heard, and at mid-day the fire burst forth. On the spot where it issued from the earth a smoke first arose, which completely darkened the sky. To the eastward of the town, towards the close of day, the flames were visible, a fiery mass of immense size, which bore the appearance of a large town, with walls, battlements, and minarets, ascending to heaven. Out of this flame issued a river of red and blue fire, accompanied with the noise of thunder. The burning waves carried whole rocks before them, and farther on heaped them up like high mounds. The river was approaching nearer to the town, when Providence sent a cool breeze, which arrested its further progress on this side. All the inhabitants of Medina passed that night in the great mosque; and the reflection of the fire changed that night into day-light. The fiery river took a northern direction, and terminated at the mountain called Djebel Wayra, standing in the valley called Wady el Shathat, which is a little to the eastward of Djebel Ohod [two miles and a half from Medina]. For five days the flame was seen ascending, and the river remained burning for three months. Nobody could approach it on account of its heat. It destroyed all rocks; but, (says the historian,) this being the sacred territory of Medina, where Mohammed had ordained that no trees should be cut within a certain space, it spared all the trees it met with in its course. The entire length of the river was four farsakh, or twelve miles; the breadth of it four miles; and its depth, eight or nine feet. The valley of Shathat was quite choked up; and the place where it is thus choked, called from this circumstance El Sedd, is still to be seen. The flame was seen at Yembo and at Mekka. An Arab of Teyma (a small town in the N.E. Desert from six to eight days� journey from Medina) wrote a letter during night by the light reflected from it to that distance. �In the same year, a great inundation of the Tigris happened, by which half the town of Baghdad was destroyed; and at the close of this same year the temple of Medina itself was burnt to the ground. �The Arabs were prepared to witness such a conflagration; for they remembered the saying of Mohammed, that �the day of judgment will not happen until a fire shall appear in the Hedjaz, which shall cause the necks of the camels at Basra to shine.��] From this account the stream of lava must be sought at about one [p.360] hour distant to the E. of the town. The volcanic productions which cover the immediate neighbourhood of the town and the plain to the west of it, are probably owing to former eruptions of the same volcano; for nothing is said, in the relation, of stones having been cast out of the crater to any considerable distance, and the whole plain to the westward, as far as Wady Akyk, three miles distant, is covered with the above-described volcanic productions. I have little doubt that on many other points of that great chain of mountains, similar volcanoes have existed. The great number of warm springs found at almost every station of the road to Mekka, authorises such a conjecture. I am here induced, by a passage in the extract contained in the last note, to offer the following remark. According to the strict precept of Mohammed, that part of the territory of Medina which encompassed the town in a circle of twelve miles, having on the S. side Djebel Ayre, and on the N. side Djebel Thor, (a small mountain just behind Djebel Ohod,) as the boundary, should be considered sacred; no person should be slain therein, except aggressors, and enemies, in self-defence, or infidels who polluted it; and neither game should be killed nor trees cut in such a holy territory. This interdiction, however, is at present completely set aside; trees are cut, game is killed, bloody affrays happen in the town itself and [p.361] in its immediate vicinity ; and though an avowed follower of any other religion than the Mohammedan is not permitted to enter the gates of the town, yet several instances occurred, during my stay there, (and while I resided at Yembo,) of Greek Christians employed in the commissariat of the army of Tousoun Pasha encamping within gun-shot of Medina, previous to their departure for the head-quarters of the Pasha, then in the province of Kasym. [p.362] ACCOUNT OF SOME PLACES OF ZYARA, OR OBJECTS OF PIOUS VISITATION IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF MEDINA. ON the day after the pilgrim has performed his first duties at the mosque and the tomb, he usually visits the burial-ground of the town, in memory of the many saints who lie buried there. It is just beyond the town-walls, near the gate of Bab Djoma, and bears the name of El Bekya. A square of several hundred paces is enclosed by a wall which, on the southern side, joins the suburb, and on the others is surrounded with date-groves. Considering the sanctity of the persons whose bodies it contains, it is a very mean place; and perhaps the most dirty and miserable burial-ground in any eastern town of the size of Medina. It does not contain a single good tomb, nor even any large inscribed blocks of stone covering tombs; but instead, mere rude heaps of earth, with low borders of loose stones placed about them. The Wahabys are accused of having defaced the tombs; and in proof of this, the ruins of small domes and buildings are pointed out, which formerly covered the tombs of Othman, Abbas, Setna Fatme, and the aunts of Mohammed, which owed their destruction to those sectaries: but they would certainly not have annihilated every other simple tomb built of stone here, which they did neither at Mekka nor any other place. The miserable state of this cemetery must have existed prior to the Wahaby conquest, and is to be ascribed to the niggardly minds of the towns-people, who are little disposed to [p.363] incur any expense in honouring the remains of their celebrated countrymen. The whole place is a confused accumulation of heaps of earth, wide pits, rubbish, without a single regular tomb-stone. The pilgrim is made to visit a number of graves, and, while standing before them, to repeat prayers for the dead. Many persons make it their exclusive profession to watch the whole day near each of the principal tombs, with a handkerchief spread out, in expectation of the pilgrims who come to visit them; and this is the exclusive privilege of certain Ferráshyns and their families, who have divided the tombs among themselves, where each takes his post, or sends his servant in his stead. The most conspicuous personages that lie buried here are Ibrahim, the son of Mohammed, who died in his youth; Fatme, his daughter, according to the opinion of many, who say that she was buried here and not in the mosque; several of the wives of Mohammed; some of his daughters; his foster-mother; Fatme, the daughter of Asad, and mother of Aly; Abbas ibn Abd el Motalleb; Othman ibn Affan, one of the immediate successors of Mohammed, who collected the scattered leaves of the Koran into one volume; the Martyrs, or Shohada, as they are called, who were slain here by the army of the heretics under Yezyd ibn Mawya, whose commander, Moslim, in A.H. 60, (others say 62,) came from Syria and sacked the town, the inhabitants of which had acknowledged the rebel Abdallah ibn Hantala as their chief; Hassan ibn Aly, whose trunk only lies buried here, his head having been sent to Cairo, where it is preserved in the fine mosque called El Hassamya; the Imam Malek ibn Anes, the founder of the sect of the Malekites. Indeed so rich is Medina in the remains of great saints that they have almost lost their individual importance, while the relics of one of the persons just mentioned would be sufficient to render celebrated any other Moslim town. As a formula of the invocation addressed here to the manes of the saint, I shall transcribe that which is said with uplifted hands, after having performed a short prayer of two rikats, over the tomb of Othman ibn Affan: �Peace be with thee, O Othman! Peace be with thee, O friend of the chosen! Peace be with [p.364] thee, O collector of the Koran! Mayest thou deserve the contentment of God! May God ordain Paradise as thy dwelling, thy resting-place, thy habitation, and thy abode! I deposit on this spot, and near thee, O Othman, the profession everlasting, from this day to the day of judgment, that there is no God but God, and that Mohammed is his servant and his prophet.� The inhabitants of Medina bury all their dead on this ground, in the same homely tombs as those of the saints. Branches of palm-trees are stuck upon the graves, and changed once a year, at the feast of Ramadhan, when the family visits the grave of its relations, where it sometimes remains for several days. VISIT TO DJEBEL OHOD.--One of the principal Zyara or places of sacred visitation of Medina, is Ohod, with the tomb of Hamze, the uncle of Mohammed. The mountain of Ohod forms part of the great chain, branching out from it into the eastern plain, so as to stand almost insulated. It is three quarters of an hour�s walk from the town. In the fourth year of the Hedjra, when Mohammed had fixed his residence at Medina, the idolatrous Koreysh, headed by Abou Sofyan, invaded these parts, and took post at this mountain. Mohammed issued from the town, and there fought, with great disparity of force, the most arduous battle in which he was ever engaged. His uncle Hamze was killed, together with seventy-five of his followers: he himself was wounded, but he killed with his own lance one of the bravest men of the opposite party, and gained at last a complete victory. The tomb of Hamze and of the seventy-five martyrs, as they are called, form the object of the visit to Djebel Ohod. I started on foot, with my cicerone, by the Syrian gate, in the company of several other visiters; for it was thought unsafe to go there alone, from fear of Bedouin robbers. The visit is generally performed on Thursdays. We passed the place where the Syrian Hadj encamp, and where several wells and half-ruined tanks, cased with stone, supply the pilgrims with water during their three days� stay at this place, in their way to and from Mekka. A little further on is a pretty kiosk, with a dome, now likewise half-ruined, called El Goreyn, where [p.365] the chief of that caravan usually takes up his temporary abode. The road further on is completely level; date-trees stand here and there, and several spots are seen which the people only cultivate when the rains are copious. About one mile from the town stands a ruined edifice of stones and bricks, where a short prayer is recited in remembrance of Mohammed having here put on his coat of mail, when he went to engage the enemy. Farther on is a large stone, upon which it is said that Mohammed leaned for a few minutes on his way to Ohod; the visiter is enjoined to press his back against this stone, and to recite the Fateha, or opening chapter of the Koran. In approaching the mountain, we passed a torrent, coming from E. or S.E. with water to the depth of two feet, the remains of the rain that had fallen five days ago. It swells sometimes so high as to become impassable, and inundates the whole surrounding country. To the east of this torrent, the ground leading towards the mountain is barren, stony, with a slight ascent, on the slope of which stands a mosque, surrounded by about a dozen ruined houses, once the pleasure villas of wealthy towns-people; near them is a cistern, filled by the torrent-water. The mosque is a square solid-built edifice of small dimensions. Its dome was thrown down by the Wahabys, but they spared the tomb. The mosque encloses the tomb of Hamze, and those of his principal men who were slain in the battle; namely, Mesab ibn Omeyr, Djafar ibn Shemmas, and Abdallah ibn Djahsh. The tombs are in a small open yard, and, like those of the Bekya, mere heaps of earth, with a few loose stones placed around them. Beside them is a small portico, which serves as a mosque: a short prayer is said here, and the pilgrims then advance to the tombs, where they recite the chapter of Yasein (from the Koran), or the short chapter of El Khalas forty times; after which Hamze and his friends are invoked to intercede with the Almighty, and obtain for the pilgrim and all his family, faith, health, wealth, and the utter destruction of all their enemies. Money is given, as usual, at every corner, to the guardians of the mosque, of the tombs, to the Mueddin, Imám, &c. &c. A little further on, towards the mountain, which is only at a gun-shot distance, a small cupola marks the place where Mohammed was [p.366] struck in battle by a stone, which knocked out four of his front teeth, and felled him to the ground. [This story is related here, though the historians of the Prophet do not agree on the subject.] His party thought he was killed; but the angel Gabriel immediately appeared, and exclaimed that he was still alive. At a short distance from this cupola, which like all the rest has been demolished, are the tombs of twelve other partisans of the Prophet, who were killed in the battle. They form together several mounds of rubbish and stones, in which their respective tombs can no longer be distinguished. Prayers are again recited, with that passage of the Koran which says, in speaking of the slain: �Do not think that those who were killed in war with the infidels are dead; no, they are living, and their reward is with their Lord:� a sentence still used to encourage, even in our days, the Turkish soldiers in their battles with Europeans. The mountain of Ohod consists of different coloured granite; on its sides I likewise found flint, but no lava. The entire mountain is almost four miles in length, from west to east. Having been the scene of the famous battle, which so much contributed to strengthen the party of Mohammed and his new religion, it is not surprising that Djebel Ohod should be the object of peculiar veneration. The people of Medina believe that on the day of resurrection it will be transported into Paradise; and that when mankind shall appear before the Almighty for judgment, they will be assembled upon it, as the most favoured station. The mountain of Ayra, mentioned above as situated to the S.W. of the town, (about the same distance from it as Ohod is, on the other side,) will on that day experience a much less enviable fate. Having denied water to the Prophet, who once lost his way in its valleys, and became thirsty, it will be punished for inhospitality, by being cast at once into hell. The people of Medina frequently visit Ohod, pitching their tents in the ruined houses, where they remain a few days, especially convalescents, who during their illness had made a vow to slaughter a sheep in honour of Hamze, if they recovered. Once a year, (in July, I [p.367] believe,) the inhabitants flock thither in crowds, and remain for three days, as if it were during the feast days of the saint. Regular markets are then kept there: and this visit forms one of the principal public amusements of the town. KOBA.--In this neighbouring village all the pilgrims visit the spot where Mohammed first alighted on coming from Mekka: it lies to the south of the town, distant about three quarters of an hour. The road to it passes through a plain, overgrown with date-trees, and covered in many spots with white sand. At half an hour from the town begin gardens, which spread over a space of four or five miles in circuit, and form, perhaps, the most fertile and agreeable spot in the Northern Hedjaz. All kinds of fruit-trees (with the exception of apple and pear, none of which I believe grow in Arabia,) are seen in the gardens, which are all enclosed by walls, and irrigated by numerous wells. It is from hence that Medina is supplied with fruits: lemon and orange trees, pomegranates, bananas, vines, peach, apricot, and fig trees, are planted amidst the date and nebek trees, and form as thick groves as in Syria and Egypt, while their shade renders Koba a delightful residence. The kheroa (Ricinus, or Palma Christi,) is likewise very common here. The village is frequently visited by the people of Medina; parties are continually made to spend the day, and many sick people are carried to enjoy the benefits of a cooler atmosphere. In the midst of these groves stands the Mesdjed of Koba, with about thirty or forty houses. It is a mean building, and much decayed. In the interior of it several holy spots are visited, at each of which a short prayer of two rikats is performed, and some additional invocations recited in honour of the place. We first see here the Mobrak el Naka, the very spot on the floor of the mosque where the she-camel which Mohammed rode, in his flight from Mekka, crouched down, and would not rise again, thus advising her master to stop here, which he did for a few days, previous to his entering Medina. It was to consecrate this spot, that the mosque was founded by Mohammed himself with loose stones, which were changed into a regular building the year after, by Benou Ammer ibn Owf; but the present building is of modern construction. Further on is shown the spot [p.368] upon which Mohammed once stood, after his prayers, and distinctly saw from thence Mekka, and all that the Koreysh were doing there; and, thirdly, the spot where the Koranic passage relating to the inhabitants of Koba was revealed to Mohammed: �A temple, from its first day founded in piety; there thou best standest up to prayers. There men live who like to be purified: and God loves the clean.� In this passage an allusion is discovered to the extraordinary personal cleanliness of those who inhabited Koba, more especially in certain acts of ablution. I saw no inscriptions in this mosque, except those of hadjys who had written their names on the white-washed walls; a practice in which Eastern travellers indulge as frequently as European tourists, adding often to the names some verses of favourite poets, or sentences of the Koran. The mosque forms a narrow colonnade round a small open courtyard, in which the Mobrak el Naka stands, with a small cupola over it, rising to the height of about six feet. On issuing from the mosque, we were assailed by a crowd of beggars. At a short distance from it, among the cluster of houses, stands a small chapel, called Mesdjed Aly, in honour of Aly, the cousin of Mohammed. Close to it, in a garden, a deep well is shown, called Ayn Ezzerka, with a small chapel, built at its mouth. This was a favourite spot with Mohammed, who used often to sit among the trees with his disciples, enjoying the pleasure of seeing the water issuing in a limpid stream; an object which at the present day powerfully attracts the natives of the East, and, with the addition of a shady tree, is perhaps the only feature of landscape which they admire. When he once was sitting here, the Prophet�s seal-ring dropped into the well, and could never be again found; and the supposition that the ring is still there, renders the well famous. The water is tepid at its source, with a slight sulphureous taste, which it loses in its course. It is collected together with that of several other springs into the canal which supplies Medina, and which is kept constantly flowing by the supply of various channels of well-water. Omar el Khatab first carried the spring to Medina; but the present canal was built at the expense of the Sultan Soleyman, son of Selim I., about A.H. 973: it is a very solid subterranean work. [p.369] This canal, and that of Mekka, are the greatest architectural curiosities in the Hedjaz. Near to the mosque of Koba stands a building erected by Sultan Morad, for dervishes. A little beyond the village, on the road towards the town, stands a small chapel, called Mesdjed Djoma, in remembrance of the spot where the people of Medina met Mohammed upon his arrival. EL KEBLETYN.--Towards the N.W. of the town, about one hour distant, a place is visited bearing this name. It is said to consist of two rude pillars (for I did not see it myself,) and was the spot where Mohammed first changed the Kebly, or the direction in which prayers are said, in the seventeenth month after the Hedjra, or his flight to Medina. Together with the Jewish Bedouins, his own adherents had till then Jerusalem as their Kebly; but Mohammed now turned it towards the Kaaba, to which that fine passage of the Koran alludes: �Say, to God belong the east and the west; he directs whomsoever he pleases in the road of piety:�--a sentence written to convince the Moslims, that wherever they turned, in their prayers, God stood before them. Near this spot stands a small ruined chapel. The above are the only places visited by pilgrims. The country round Koba, and towards the S.E. of the town, presents many spots of nearly equal beauty with Koba, which in summer are places of recreation to the people of Medina; but I believe there are no villages any where to be seen, only insulated houses, or small groupes of buildings, scattered amongst the date-trees. [p.370]ON THE INHABITANTS OF MEDINA. LIKE the Mekkans, the people of Medina are for the greater part strangers, whom the Prophet�s tomb, and the gains which it insures to its neighbours, have drawn to this place. But few original Arabs, descendants of those families who lived at Medina when Mohammed came from Mekka, now remain in the town; on the contrary, we find in it colonies from almost every quarter of the Muselman empire, east and west. I was informed, that of the original Arab residents, to whom the Mohammedan writers apply the name of El Ansar, and who at Mohammed�s entrance were principally composed of the tribes of Ows and Khezredj, only about ten families remain who can prove their descent by pedigrees, or well-ascertained traditions: they are poor people, and live as peasants in the suburbs and gardens. The number of Sherifs descended of Hassan, the grandson of Mohammed, is considerable; but most of them are not originally from this place, their ancestors having come hither from Mekka, during the wars waged by the Sherifs for the possession of that town. They almost all belong to the class of olemas, very few military sherifs, like those of Mekka, being found here. Among them is a small tribe of Beni Hosseyn, descended from Hosseyn, the brother of Hassan. They are said to have been formerly very powerful at Medina, and had appropriated to themselves the chief part of the income of the mosque: in the thirteenth century, (according to Samhoudy,) they were the privileged [p.371] guardians of the Prophet�s tomb; but at present they are reduced to about a dozen families, who still rank among the grandees of the town and its most wealthy inhabitants. They occupy a quarter by themselves, and obtain very large profits, particularly from the Persian pilgrims who pass here. They are universally stated to be heretics, of the Persian sect of Aly, and to perform secretly the rites of that creed, although they publicly profess the doctrines of the Sunnys. This report is too general, and confirmed by too many people of respectability, to be doubted: but the Beni Hosseyn have powerful influence in the town, in appearance strictly comply with the orthodox principles, and are therefore not molested. It is publicly said that the remnants of the Ansars, and great numbers of the peasant Arabs who cultivate the gardens and fields in the neighbourhood of the town, are addicted to the same heresy. The latter, called Nowakhele, (a name implying that they live among date-trees,) are numerous, and very warlike. They had offered determined resistance to the Wahabys, and in civil contests have proved always superior to the town�s-people. They are said to be descendants of the partisans of Yezid, the son of Mawya, who took and sacked the town sixty years after the Hedjra. They marry only among themselves; and exhibit on all occasions a great esprit de corps. Many of them publicly profess the creed of Aly when in their date-groves, but are Sunnys whenever they come to town. Some of them are established in the suburbs, and they have monopolised the occupation of butchers. In quarrels I have heard individuals among them publicly called sectaries and rowafedh, without their ever denying it. In the Eastern Desert, at three or four days� journey from Medina, lives a whole Bedouin tribe, called Beni Aly, who are all of this Persian creed; and it is matter of astonishment to find the two most holy spots of the orthodox Muselman religion surrounded, one by the sectaries of Zeyd, and the other by those of Aly, without an attempt having been made to dislodge them. Among the ancient families of Medina are likewise reckoned a few descendants of the Abassides, now reduced to great poverty: they [p.372] go by the name of Khalifye, implying that they are descended from the Khalifes. Most of the inhabitants are of foreign origin, and present as motley a race as those of Mekka. No year passes without some new settlers being added to their number; and no pilgrim caravan crosses the town without leaving here a few of its travellers, who stop at first with the intention of remaining for a year or two only, but generally continue to reside here permanently. Descendants of people from northern Turkey are very numerous; but the greater part trace their origin to settlers of the southern countries of Arabia, Yemen and Hadramaut, and from Syria, and Egypt, and many also from Barbary. My cicerone was called Sheikh Sad-eddyn el Kurdy, because his grandfather was a Kurd who had settled here: the proprietor of the house in which I lived was Seyd Omar, a Sherif of the Yafáÿ tribe of Yemen, whose ancestors had come hither several hundred years since. Indians are likewise found, but in less number than at Mekka. As there, they are druggists, and petty shopkeepers; but I believe that no Indian wholesale dealers in their native products are to be found at Medina. They adhere to their national dress and manners, forming a small colony, and rarely intermarry or mix with the other inhabitants. The individuals of different nations settled here have in their second and third generations all become Arabs as to features and character; but are, nevertheless, distinguishable from the Mekkans; they are not nearly so brown as the latter, thus forming an intermediate link between the Hedjaz people and the northern Syrians. Their features are somewhat broader, their beards thicker, and their body stouter, than those of the Mekkans; but the Arab face, the expression, and cast of features are in both places the same. The Medinans in their dress resemble more the Turkish than their southern neighbours: very few of them wear the beden, or the national Arab cloak without sleeves; but even the poorer people dress in long gowns, with a cloth djobbe, or upper cloak, or, instead of it, an abba, of the same brown and white stripe as is common in Syria and all over the Desert. Red Tunis bonnets and Turkish shoes are [p.373] more used here than at Mekka, where the lower classes wear white bonnets, and sandals. People in easy circumstances dress well, wearing good cloth cloaks, fine gowns, and, in winter, good pelisses, brought from Constantinople by way of Cairo; which I found a very common article of dress in January and February, a season when it is much colder here than Europeans would expect it to be in Arabian deserts. Generally speaking, we may say that the Medinans dress better than the Mekkans, though with much less cleanliness: but no national costume is observed here; and, particularly in the cold of winter, the lower classes cover themselves with whatever articles of dress they can obtain at low prices in the public auctions; so that it is not uncommon to see a man fitted out in the dress of three or four different countries-like an Arab as high as his waist, and like a Turkish soldier over his breast and shoulders. The richer people make a great display of dress, and vie with each other in finery. I saw more new suits of clothes here, even when the yearly feasts were terminated, than I had seen before in any other part of the East. As at Mekka, the Sherifs wear no green, but simple white muslin turbans, excepting those from the northern part of Turkey, who have recently settled here, and who continue to wear the badge of their noble extraction. Prior to the Wahaby conquest, when the inhabitants were often exposed to bloody affrays among themselves, they always went armed with the djombye, or crooked Arabian knife: at present few of these are seen; but every body, from the highest to the lowest, carries in his hand a long heavy stick. The rich have their sticks headed with silver; others fix iron spikes to them; and thus make a formidable weapon, which the Arabs handle with much dexterity. The women dress like those of Mekka; blue gowns being worn by the lower classes, and silk mellayes by the higher. The Bedouins settled in and near the suburbs, use exactly the same costume as those of the Syrian Desert: a shirt, abba, a kessye on the head, a leathern girdle in which the knife is stuck, and sandals on the feet. Even those who have become settlers, form a distinct race, and do not intermix with the rest of the town�s-people. They preserve their national dress, language, and customs, and live in their [p.374] houses as they would under tents in the Desert. Of all Eastern nations, the Arabian Bedouins perhaps are those who abandon their national habits with most reluctance. In Syria, in Egypt, and in the Hedjaz, settlements are seen, the members of which have become cultivators for several centuries back; yet they have adopted only few of the habits of peasants, and still pride themselves on their Bedouin origin and manners. The Medinans have not the same means of gaining a living, as the Mekkans. Although this town is never free from foreign pilgrims, there is never that immense influx of hadjys which renders Mekka so populous for several months in the year, and which makes it a market for all parts of the East. The hadjys who come to Medina are seldom merchants, or at least do not go there for mercantile pursuits, and therefore leave on the coast their heavy baggage. Even the Syrian merchants who pass with the great caravan seldom engage in trade, unless it be for some camel-loads of tobacco and dried fruits. The Medina trade is therefore merely for home consumption, and to supply the neighbouring Bedouins with articles of dress and provisions. These are received by way of Yembo, and come almost exclusively from Egypt. No great merchants are settled in Medina: the trade is merely retail; and those who possess capital, generally invest it in goods, as usual throughout Syria and Egypt, there not being any public institution like banks, or trading societies, or national funds, from which the capitalist might derive interest for his money. The Turkish law rigorously forbids the taking of interest; and even if it were otherwise, there is not any government nor any class of men to which the people would intrust considerable sums. The investment of capital in landed property is also liable to great risk. [By a decree of Mohammed Aly in 1813, the purchase of land in Egypt is rendered impracticable; for it orders all the Moltezims (or landed proprietors who shared in the possession of villages and grounds, and who formed a class living on their rents in the country towns,) to receive their yearly revenue from the Pasha�s treasury, where they suffered every kind of humiliation and injustice; and the whole of the soil was declared to be the property of government, or in other words of Mohammed Aly himself, who leaves the cultivation of it to the fellahs on his own terms. It happened lately that the Fellahs, who farmed five thousand acres belonging to the village of Damkour near Cairo, were deprived of their leases on the land being declared public property, because the Pasha wished to sow clover for his cavalry upon the soil that the Fellahs had possessed. Landed property in Syria also subjects the owner to great inconveniences: he is oppressed by every governor of a district, and by every soldier who passes; he suffers in his receipts from the extortions of the Pashas, which generally fall more heavily upon the cultivator than upon the monied man: and if he do not constantly watch his peasants, he is most probably cheated out of all his profits.] The usual [p.375] method is to enter into partnership with different petty merchants or retail dealers, and obtain a share of their profits; but it is subject to almost as much anxiety as an active trade, from the necessity of keeping a constant account with the partners, and incessantly watching them. Usury is practised, and an annual interest from thirty to fifty per cent is paid at Cairo for money: but few of the Turkish merchants descend to this practice, which is reckoned dishonorable. Usury is wholly in the hands of Jews, and Christians the outcasts of Europe. There is, perhaps, nothing in the present deplorable state of eastern society that has a more baneful effect upon the minds and happiness of the people, than the necessity of continuing during their whole lives in business full of intrigues and chances. The cheering hopes which animate an European, the prospect of enjoying in old age the profits of early exertions, are unknown to the native of the East, whose retirement would bring nothing but danger, by marking him as wealthy in the eyes of his rapacious governor. The double influence of the Turkish government and Muselman religion have produced such an universal hypocrisy, that there is scarcely a Mohammedan (whose tranquil air, as he smokes his pipe reclining on the sofa, gives one an idea of the most perfect contentment and apathy,) that does not suffer under all the agonies of envy, unsatisfied avarice, ambition, or the fear of losing his ill-gotten property. Travellers who pass rapidly through the East, without a knowledge of the language, and rarely mixing with any but persons interested in misrepresenting their true character, are continually deceived by the dignified deportment of the Turks, their patriarchal manners and solemn speeches,--although they would ridicule a Frenchman who, [p.376] after a few months� residence in England, and ignorant of the English language, should pretend to a competent knowledge of the British character and constitution; not recollecting that it is much easier for a Frenchman to judge of a neighbouring European nation, than for any European to judge of Oriental nations, whose manners, ideas, and notions are so different from his own. For my own part, a long residence among Turks, Syrians, and Egyptians, justifies me in declaring that they are wholly deficient in virtue, honour, and justice; that they have little true piety, and still less charity or forbearance; and that honesty is only to be found in their paupers or idiots. Like the Athenians of old, a Turk may perhaps know what is right and praiseworthy, but he leaves the practice to others; though, with fine maxims on his lips, he endeavours to persuade himself that he acts as they direct. Thus he believes himself to be a good Muselman, because he does not omit the performance of certain prayers and ablutions, and frequently invokes the forgiveness of God. At Medina several persons engage in small commercial transactions, chiefly concerning provisions; a lucrative branch of traffic, as the town depends for its support upon the caravans from Yembo, which are seldom regular, and this circumstance causes the prices of provisions continually to fluctuate. The evil consequence of this is, that the richer corn-dealers sometimes succeed in establishing a monopoly, no grain remaining but in their warehouses, the petty traders having been obliged to sell off. Whenever the caravans are delayed for any considerable time, corn rises to an enormous price; and as the chiefs of the town are thus interested, it can scarcely be supposed that the magistrates would interfere. Next to the provision-trade, that with the neighbouring Bedouins is the most considerable: they provide the town with butter, honey, (a very essential article in Hedjaz cookery,) sheep, and charcoal; for which they take, in return, corn and clothing. Their arrival at Medina is likewise subject to great irregularity; and if two tribes happen to be at war, the town is kept for a month at the mercy of the few substantial merchants who happen to have a stock of those articles in hand. When I first reached Medina, no butter was to be had in [p.377] the market, and corn was fifty per cent dearer than at Yembo; soon after, it was not to be had at all in the market: at another time salt failed; the same happened with charcoal; and in general the provision-market was very badly regulated. In other eastern towns, as at Mekka and Djidda, a public officer, called Mohteseb, is appointed to watch over the sale of provisions; to take care that they do not rise to immoderate prices, and fix a maximum to all the victualling traders, so that they may have a fair but not exorbitant profit. But this is not the case at Medina, because the Mohteseb is there without any authority. Corn is sold twenty per cent dearer in one part of the town than in another, and the same with every other article, so that foreigners unacquainted with the ways of the place are made to suffer materially. During my stay, the communication with Yembo was kept up by a caravan of about one hundred and fifty camels, which arrived at Medina every fortnight, and by small parties of Bedouin traders with from five to ten camels, which arrived every five or six days. The far greater part of the loads was destined for the army of Tousoun Pasha; the rest consisted of merchandize and provisions; but the latter were very inadequate to the wants of the town. I heard from a well-informed person, that the daily consumption of Medina was from thirty to forty erdebs, or twenty- five to thirty-five Hedjaz camel-loads. The produce of the fields which surround the town, is said to be barely sufficient for four months� consumption; for the rest, therefore, it must depend upon Yembo, or imports from Egypt. In time of peace there is plenty: but lately, since the Turkish army has been stationed here, the Bedouins fear to trust their camels in the hands of the Turks, and the supply has fallen much below the wants of the town. The inhabitants were put to great inconvenience on that account, and had greatly reduced their consumption of corn, and eaten up the last of their stock on hand. Tousoun Pasha had very imprudently seized a great number of the Bedouins� camels, and obliged them to accompany his army, which had so terrified them, that, previous to Mohammed Aly�s arrival, famine was apprehended from the want of beasts of transport. The Pasha endeavoured to restore confidence, and some of the Bedouins began to return with their beasts. [p.378] In time of peace, corn caravans arrive also from Nedjed, principally from that district of it called Kasym; but these were altogether interrupted. I was informed that the transport trade in provisions from Yembo had been shut up for several years after the conquest of Medina by the Wahabys, whose chief, Saoud, wished to favour his own subjects of Nedjed; and that Medina in the mean time drew all its supplies from Nedjed, and its own fields. Provisions were now excessively dear: the lower class lived almost entirely upon dates, and very coarse barley bread; few could afford a little butter, much fewer meat. The fruit of the lotus, or Nebek, which ripened in the beginning of March, induced them to quit the dates, and became almost their sole nourishment for several months; large heaps of it were seen in the market, and a person might procure enough to satisfy himself for a pennyworth of corn, which was usually taken in exchange instead of money, by the Bedouins, who brought the fruit to the town. The vegetables cultivated in the gardens are chiefly for the use of foreigners, and are of very indifferent flavour. Arabs dislike them, and they are only used by those who have acquired the relish in foreign countries. Fresh onions, leeks, and garlic, are the only vegetables of which the Arabs are fond. The prime article of food at Medina, as I have already stated, is dates. During the two or three months of the date-harvest, (for this fruit is not all ripe at the same time, each species having its season), from July till September, the lower classes feed on nothing else; and during the rest of the year dried dates continue to be their main nourishment. The date-harvest is here of the same importance as that of wheat in Europe, and its failure causes general distress. �What is the price of dates at Mekka or Medina?� is always the first question asked by a Bedouin who meets a passenger on the road. Of these dates a considerable part is brought to Medina from distant quarters, and especially from Fera, a fertile valley in the possession of the Beni Aamer tribe, where there are numerous date-groves: it is three or four days� journey from Medina, and as many from Rabegh in the mountains. The dates are brought from thence in large baskets, in which they are pressed together into a paste, as I have already mentioned. [p.379]Although commercial dealings are pretty universal, yet few of the inhabitants ostensibly follow them. Most of the people are either cultivators, or, in the higher classes, landed proprietors, and servants of the mosque. The possession of fields and gardens is much desired; to be a land-owner is considered honorable; and the rents of the fields, if the date-harvest be good, is very considerable. If I may judge from two instances reported to me, the fields are sold at such a rate, as to leave to the owner, in ordinary years, an income of from twelve to sixteen per cent upon his capital, after giving up, as is generally done, half the produce to the actual cultivators. Last year, however, it was calculated that their money yielded forty per cent. The middling classes cannot afford to lay out their small capital in gardens, because to them sixteen or twenty per cent would be an insufficient return; and, in the Hedjaz, no person who trades with a trifling fund is contented with less than fifty per cent annually; and in general they contrive, by cheating foreigners, to double their capital. Those, therefore, only are land-owners, who by trade, or by their income from the mosque, and from hadjys, have already acquired considerable wealth. The chief support of Medina is from the mosque and the hadjys. I have already mentioned the Ferrashyn, or servants of the mosque, and their profits; to them must be added a vast number of people attached to the temple, whose offices are mere sinecures, and who share in the income of the Haram; a train of ciceroni or mezowars; and almost every householder, who lets out apartments to the pilgrims Besides the share in the income of the mosque, the servants of every class have their surra or annuity, which is brought from Constantinople and Cairo; and all the inhabitants besides enjoy similar yearly gifts, which also go by the name of surra. These stipends, it is true, are not always regularly distributed, and many of the poorest class, for whom they were originally destined, are now deprived of them; the sums, however, reach the town, and are brought into circulation. [Kayd Beg, Sultan of Egypt, after having, in A.H. 881, rebuilt the mosque, appropriated a yearly income of seven thousand five hundred erdebs for the inhabitants of the town, to be sent from Egypt; and Sultan Soleyman ibn Selim allowed five thousand erdebs for the same purpose. (See Kotobeddyn and Samhoudy.)] Many [p.380] families are, in this manner, wholly supported by the surra, and receive as much as 100l. and 200l sterling per annum, without performing any duty whatever. The Medinans say, that without these surras the town would soon be abandoned to the land-owners and cultivators; and this consideration was certainly the original motive for establishing them, and the numerous wakfs, or pious foundations, which in all parts of the Turkish empire are annexed to the towns or mosques. At present the surra is misapplied, and serves only to feed a swarm of persons in a state of complete idleness, while the poor are left destitute, and not the smallest encouragement is given to industry. As to want of industry, Medina is still more remarkable than Mekka. It wants even the most indispensable mechanics; and the few that live here are foreigners, and only settle for a time. There is a single upholsterer, and only one locksmith in the town; carpenters and masons are so scarce, that to repair a house, they must be brought from Yembo. Whenever the mosque requires workmen, they are sent from Cairo, or even from Constantinople, as was the case during my stay, when a master-mason from the latter place was occupied in repairing the roof of the building. All the wants of the town, down to the most trifling articles, are supplied by Egypt. When I was here, not even earthen water jars were made. Some years ago a native of Damascus established a manufacture of this most indispensable article; but he had left the town, and the inhabitants were reduced to the necessity of drinking out of the half-broken jars yet left, or of importing others, at a great expense, from Mekka No dying, no woollen manufactures, no looms, no tanneries nor works in leather, no iron-works of any kind are seen; even nails and horse-shoes are brought from Egypt and Yembo. In my account of Mekka, I attributed the general aversion of the people of the Hedjaz from handicrafts, to their indolence and dislike of all manual labour. But the same remark is not applicable to Medina, where the cultivators and gardeners, though not very industrious in improving their land, are nevertheless a hard-working people, and [p.381] might apply themselves to occupations in town, without undergoing greater bodily labour than they endure in their fields. I am inclined to think that the want of artisans here is to be attributed to the very low estimation in which they are held by the Arabians, whose pride often proves stronger than their cupidity, and prevents a father from educating his sons in any craft. This aversion they probably inherit from the ancient inhabitants, the Bedouins, who, as I have remarked, exclude, to this day, all handicraftsmen from their tribes, and consider those who settle in their encampment as of an inferior cast, with whom they neither associate nor intermarry. They are differently esteemed in other parts of the East, in Syria, and in Egypt, where the corporations of artisans are almost as much respected as they were in France and Germany during the middle ages. A master craftsman is fully equal in rank and consideration to a merchant of the second class; he can intermarry with the respectable families of the town, and is usually a man of more influence in his quarter, than a merchant who possesses three times more wealth than himself. The first Turkish emperors did every thing in their power to favour industry and the arts; and fifty years ago they still flourished in Syria and Egypt: in the former country they are now upon the decline, except, perhaps, at Damascus; in Egypt they are reduced to the lowest state: for, while Mohammed Aly entices English and Italian workmen into his service, who labour on his sole account, and none of whom prosper, he oppresses native industry, by monopolizing its produce, and by employing the greater part of the workmen himself, at a daily salary thirty per cent less than they might get, if they were permitted to work on their own account, or for private individuals. The only industrious persons found in Medina are the destitute pilgrims, especially those from Syria, who abound here, and who endeavour by hard labour, during a few months, to earn money sufficient for the expenses of their journey homewards. They work only at intervals, and on their departure the town is often without any artisans for a considerable time. Whilst I resided in Medina, there was but one man who washed linen; when he went away, as the Arabian women will rarely condescend to be so employed, the foreign hadjys [p.382] were all obliged to wash for themselves. Under these circumstances a traveller cannot expect to find here the most trifling comforts; and even money cannot supply his wants. Here is, however, one class of men, to whom I have already referred in describing Mekka, and who render themselves equally useful at Medina. I mean the black pilgrims from Soudan. Few negroes, or Tekayrne, as they are called, come to Mekka, without visiting Medina also, a town even more venerable in their estimation than Mekka. The orthodox sect of Málekites, to which they belong, carry, in general, their respect for Mohammed further than any of the three other sects; and the negroes, little instructed as they usually are, may be said to adore the Prophet, placing him, if not on a level with the Deity, at least very little below him. They approach his tomb with a terrified and appalled conscience, and with more intense feelings than when they visit the Kaaba; and they are fully persuaded, that the prayers which they utter while standing before the window of the Hedjra, will sooner or later obtain their object. A negro hadjy once asked me, after a short conversation with him in the mosque, if I knew what prayers he should recite to make Mohammed appear to him in his sleep, as he wished to ask him a particular question; and when I expressed my ignorance, he told me that the Prophet had here appeared to a great many of his countrymen. These people furnish Medina with fire- wood, which they collect in the neighbouring mountains, and sell to great advantage. If none, or only few of them, happen to be at Medina, no wood can be got even for money. They likewise serve as carriers or porters; and such of them as are not strong enough for hard work, make small mats and baskets of date-leaves. They usually live together in some of the huts of the public place called El Menakh, and remain till they have earned money enough for their journey home. Very few of them are beggars; of forty or fifty whom I saw here, only two or three resorted to mendicity, being unfit for any other vocation. In general beggars are much less numerous at Medina than at Mekka; and most of the foreign beggars, as at Mekka, are Indians. Few hadjys come here without either bringing the necessary funds, or being certain of gaining their livelihood by labour, the distance of Medina from the sea being much [p.383] greater than that of Mekka, and the road through the Desert being dreaded by absolute paupers. It may be calculated that only one- third of the pilgrims who visit Mekka go also to Medina. The Egyptian caravan of pilgrims seldom passes by the town. [Whenever the Egyptian caravan passes by Medina, it is always on its return from Mekka, and then remains, like the Syrian, for three days only. In going from Cairo to Mekka, this caravan never visits Medina.] Medina has pilgrims during the whole year, there being no prescribed season for visiting the tomb; and they usually stay here about a fortnight or a month. They are in the greatest number during the months following the pilgrimage to Arafat, and likewise during the month of Rabya el Thany, on the 12th of which, the birth-day of Mohammed, or Mouled el Naby, is celebrated. The Medinans make up for the paucity of beggars in their own town by going elsewhere to beg. It is a custom with those inhabitants of the town who have received some education, and can read and write, to make a mendicant journey in Turkey once or twice in their lives. They generally repair to Constantinople, where, by means of Turkish hadjys, whom they have known in their own town, they introduce themselves among the grandees, plead poverty, and receive considerable presents in clothes and money, being held in esteem as natives of Medina, and neighbours of the Prophet�s tomb. Some of these mendicants serve as Imáms in the houses of the great. After a residence of a couple of years, they invest the alms they have collected in merchandize, and thus return with a considerable capital. There are very few individuals of the above description at Medina, who have not once made the grand tour of Turkey: I have seen several of them at Cairo, where they quartered themselves upon people with whom their acquaintance at Medina had been very slight, and became extremely disagreeable by their incessant craving and impudence. There are few large cities in Syria, Anatolia, and European Turkey, where some of these people are not to be found. For their travelling purposes, and for the duties incumbent upon them as ciceroni in their own town, many individuals learn a little Turkish; and it is their pride to [p.384] persuade the Turkish pilgrims, that they are Turks, and not Arabians, however little they may like the former. The Medinans generally are of a less cheerful and lively disposition than the Mekkans. They display more gravity and austerity in their manners, but much less than the northern Turks. They outwardly appear more religious than their southern neighbours. They are much more rigid in the observance of their sacred rites, and public decorum is much more observed at Medina than at Mekka: the morals, however, of the inhabitants appear to be much upon the same level with those of the Mekkans; all means are adopted to cheat the hadjys. The vices which disgrace the Mekkans are also prevalent here; and their religious austerity has not been able to exclude the use of intoxicating liquors. These are prepared by the negroes, as well as date-wine, which is made by pouring water over dates, and leaving it to ferment. On the whole, I believe the Medinans to be as worthless as the Mekkans, and greater hypocrites. They, however, wish to approach nearer to the northern Turkish character; and, for that reason, abandon the few good qualities for which the Mekkans may be commended. In giving this general character of the Medinans, I do not found it merely on the short experience I had of them in their own town, but upon information acquired from many individuals, natives of Medina, whom I met in every part of the Hedjaz. They appear to be as expensive as the Mekkans. There were only two or three people in Medina reputed to be worth ten or twelve thousand pounds sterling, half of which might be invested in landed property, and the other half in trade. The family of Abd el Shekour was reckoned the richest. The other merchants have generally very small capitals, from four to five hundred pounds only; and most of the people attached to the mosque, or who derive their livelihood from stipends, and from pilgrims, spend, to the last farthing, their yearly income. They outwardly appear much richer than the Mekkans, because they dress better; but, not the slightest comparison can be made between the mass of property in this town and that in Mekka. In their own houses, the people of Medina are said to live poorly, with regard to food; but their houses are well furnished, and their [p.385] expense in dress is very considerable. Slaves are not so numerous here as at Mekka; many, however, from Abyssinia are found here, and some females are settled, as married women. The women of the cultivators, and of the inhabitants of the suburbs, serve in the families of the town�s-people, as domestics, principally to grind corn in the hand-mills. The Medina women behave with great decency, and have the general reputation of being much more virtuous than those of Mekka and Djidda. The families that possess gardens go to great expense in entertaining their friends, by turns, at their country houses, where all the members, men and women, of the families invited assemble together. It is said that this fashion is carried to great excess in spring-time, and that the Medinans vie with each other in this respect, so that it becomes a matter of public notoriety, whether such a person has given more or less country parties, during the season, than his neighbours. A few families pass the whole year at their gardens; among these was the large family of a saint, established in a delightful little garden to the south of the town. This man is greatly renowned for his sanctity, so much so, that Tousoun Pasha himself once kissed his hands. I paid him a visit, like many other pilgrims, in the first days of my arrival, and found him seated in an arched recess or large niche adjoining the house, from whence he never moved. He was more polite than any saint I had ever seen, and was not averse to talk of worldly matters. I had heard that he possessed some historical books, which he would perhaps sell; but upon inquiry, I learnt from him that he did not trouble himself with any learning except that of the Law, the Koran, and his language. He gave me a nargyle to smoke, and treated me with a dish of dates, the produce of his own garden; and after I had put, on taking leave, a dollar under the carpet upon which I sat, (an act usual, as it was said, on such an occasion,) he accompanied me to the garden-gate, and begged me to repeat my visit. Smoking nargyles, or the Persian pipe, is as general here as at Mekka; common pipes are more in use here than in other parts of the Hedjaz, the climate being colder. The use of coffee is immoderate. In the gardens fruit can be bought with coffee-beans as well as with [p.386] money; and the fondness for tea in England and Holland is not equal to that of the Arabians for coffee. The people of Medina keep no horses. Except those of the Sheikh el Haram, and a few of his suite, I believe there is not one horse kept in this town. In general, these parts of Arabia are poor in horses, because there is no fine pasture for them: the Bedouins to the N. and E. of the town, in the Desert, have, on the contrary, large breeds. The gardens of Medina might afford pasturage; and formerly, when there were warlike individuals in the town, horses were kept by them, and expeditions planned against Bedouins with whom they happened to be at war. At present the spirit of the Medinans is more pacific; and the few horses yet kept when the Wahabys captured the town, were immediately sold by their owners, to escape the military conscription to which principally the horsemen in the Wahaby dominions were subjected. Some of the richer families kept mules, and also dromedaries. Asses are very common, especially among the cultivators, who bring to town upon them the produce of their fields. They are of a smaller breed than those of Mekka and the Hedjaz. The wants of the Turkish army had caused a great diminution in the number of camels formerly kept by the cultivators, who sold them, under the apprehension of their being placed in requisition. The Bedouins of the eastern Desert, at three or four days� journey from the town, are rich in camels; a strolling party of the horsemen of Tousoun Pasha sent in, during my stay, seven hundred of them, which they had taken from a single encampment of the Beni Hetym tribe. It is not unworthy of remark, that Medina, as far as I know, is the only town in the East from which dogs are excluded: they are never permitted to pass the gate into the interior, but must remain in the suburbs. I was told that the watchmen of the different quarters assemble once a year to drive out any of those animals that might have crept unperceived into the town. The apprehension of a dog entering the mosque, and polluting its sanctity, probably gave rise to their exclusion; they are, however, tolerated at Mekka. Among the sheep of this neighbourhood, a small species is noticed with a white and brown spotted skin; the same species is likewise [p.387] known about Mekka. It is of a diminutive size: they are bought up by foreigners, and carried home with them as rarities from the Holy Land. At Cairo they are kept in the houses of the grandees, who cause them to be painted red, with henna, and hang a collar with little bells round their necks, to amuse the children. I believe the people of Medina have no other times of public rejoicing than the regular feast-days, except the Mouled el Naby or Prophet�s birth-day, on the twelfth of the month of Rabya el Thany. This is considered a national festival: all the shops are shut during the day, and every one appears in his best dress. Early in the morning the olemas and a number of well-dressed people assemble in the mosque, where one of the Khatybs, after a short sermon, reads an account of Mohammed�s actions, from his birth to his death; after which the company, at least the chief people present, are treated with lemonade, or liquorice-water. The zealous Muselmans pass the night preceding this day in prayer. The lady of Mohammed Aly Pasha, who, having performed the pilgrimage to Mekka, came here to visit the tomb, and see her son Tousoun Pasha, passed the greater part of the night in devotion at the mosque: when she returned to a house she had taken for that purpose, close by the gate of the mosque, her son paid her a short visit, and then left her to repose, while he himself ordered a carpet to be spread in the middle of the street, and there slept, at the threshold of his mother�s dwelling; offering a testimony of respect and humility which does as much honour to the son, as to the character of the mother who could inspire him with such sentiments. The wife of Mohammed Aly is a highly respectable woman, and very charitable without ostentation. Her son Tousoun I believe to be the only one of the family, whose breast harbours any noble feeling; the rest are corrupted by the numerous vices inseparable from a Turkish grandee: but he has given, in many instances, proofs of elevated sentiment; and even his enemies cannot deny his valour, generosity, filial love, and good-nature. We must regret, that he is as much inferior in intellect to his father and his brother Ibrahim, as he is superior to them in moral character. His mother had appeared here with all the pomp of an eastern queen: from her donations to the temple, and to [p.388] the poor, she was regarded by the people as an angel sent from heaven. She brought to her son presents to the value of about twenty- five thousand pounds sterling, among which were remarked twelve complete suits, including every article of dress, from the finest Cashmere shawl down to the slippers; a diamond ring worth five thousand pounds; and two beautiful Georgian slaves. In her retinue there was also a Georgian slave of great beauty and rare accomplishments, whom Mohammed Aly had lately married at Mekka; but as she had not yet borne any children, she was considered much inferior in rank to Tousoun�s mother, who counted three Pashas as her own sons. [Ismayl Pasha is the younger brother of the two mentioned above. It is reported that Ibrahim Pasha is not the son of Mohammed Aly, but was adopted by him when he married his mother, then the widow of an Aga of Karala, on the Hellespont, the native town of the present Pasha of Egypt.] This slave had belonged to the Kadhy of Mekka, who brought her from Constantinople. Mohammed Aly, who had heard his own women praise her beauty and accomplishments, obliged the Kadhy, much against his will, to part with her for the sum of fifty thousand piastres, and soon after presented her with the marriage contract. I can say little of any customs peculiar to the Medinans, having had so few opportunities of mixing with them. I may, however, mention, that in the honours they pay to the dead, they do not comply with the general rules observed in the Fast. I believe this to be the only town where women do not howl and cry on the death of a member of the family. The contrary practice is too generally known to need repetition here; or that, in other parts of the Levant, a particular class of women is called in, on that occasion, whose sole profession is that of howling, in the most heart-rending accents, for a small sum paid to them by the hour. There is no such practice here, (though it is known in other parts of the Hedjaz) and it is even considered disgraceful. The father of a family died in a house next to that where I lived, and which communicated with it. His death happened at midnight, and his only boy, moved by natural feelings, burst into loud lamentations. I then heard his mother exclaiming, �For God�s sake, [p.389] do not cry: what a shame to cry! You will expose us before the whole neighbourhood;� and after some time she contrived to quiet her child. There is also a national custom observed at funerals: the bier, on issuing from the house of the deceased, is carried upon the shoulders of some of his relations or friends, the rest of whom follow behind; but when the procession advances into the street, every by-stander, or passenger, hastens to relieve the bearers for a moment; some giving way to others, who press forward to take in their turn the charge, which is done without stopping. The bier, thus unceasingly passes from shoulders to shoulders, till it is finally deposited near the tomb. If we could suppose for a moment, that this simple and affecting custom was the offspring of true feeling, it would prove much more sensibility than what is displayed in the funeral pomp with which Europeans accompany their dead to the grave. But in the East every thing is done according to ancient custom: it originated, no doubt, in the impulse of feeling, or a sense of duty and piety in those who introduced it; but has become, in these days, a mere matter of form. The women of Medina never wear mourning; in which respect they differ from those of Egypt. It has been often stated by travellers, that the people of the East have no mourning dresses; but this is erroneous, as to Egypt at least, and part of Syria. The men, it is true, never indulge in this practice, which is prohibited by the spirit of the law; but the women, in the interior of the house, wear mourning in every part of Egypt: for this purpose, they first dye their hands blue, with indigo; they put on a black borko, or face-veil, and thus follow the funeral through the streets; and if they can afford it, they put on a black gown, and. even a black shift. They continue to wear their mourning for seven, or fifteen, or sometimes for forty days. As to the state of learning, I shall add that the Medinans are regarded as more accomplished olemas than the Mekkans; though, as I have mentioned above, there are few, if any, public schools. Several individuals study the Muselman sciences at Damascus, and Cairo, in both of which cities there are pious foundations for the purpose. As at Mekka there is no public book-market, the only books I saw exposed [p.390] for sale were in some retail clothes-shops near the Bab es� Salam. There are said to be some fine private libraries; I saw one in the house of a Sheikh, where at least three thousand volumes were heaped up; but I could not examine them. As it often happens in the East, these libraries are all wakf, that is, have been presented to some mosque by its founder, or entailed upon some private family, so that the books cannot be alienated. The Wahabys are said to have carried off many loads of books. Notwithstanding my repeated inquiries here, as well as at Mekka, I could never hear of a single person who had composed, or even made short notes of, the history of his own times, or of the Wahabys. It appeared to me, on the whole, that literature flourished as little at Medina as in other parts of the Hedjaz; and that the sole occupation of all was getting money, and spending it in sensual gratifications. The language of the Medinans is not so pure as that of the Mekkans; it approaches much nearer to that of Egypt; and the Syrians established here continue for several generations to retain a tinge of their native dialect. It is common to hear natives talk, or at least utter a few words of Turkish. The gardeners and husbandmen in the neighbourhood have a dialect and certain phrases of their own, which often afford subject for ridicule to the inhabitants of the town. [p.391]ON THE GOVERNMENT OF MEDINA. MEDINA, since the commencement of Islam, has always been considered as a separate principality. When the Hedjaz came under subjection to the Khalifes, Medina was governed by persons appointed by them, and independent of the governors of Mekka. When the power of the Khalifes declined, the chiefs of Medina made themselves independent, and exercised the same influence in the northern Hedjaz that those of Mekka did in the southern. Sometimes the chiefs of Mekka succeeded in extending a temporary authority over Medina; and in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries this power seems to have been well established; but it often became dependent on the mighty Sultans of Egypt, whenever they assumed the sovereignty over Mekka. When the family of Othman mounted the Turkish throne, the Emperor Selym I., and his son Soleyman, (who paid, in general, more attention to the welfare of the Hedjaz than any of their predecessors,) thought it necessary to acquire a firmer footing in this town, which is the key of the Hedjaz, and became of so much importance to the great pilgrim caravans. They sent hither a garrison of Turkish soldiers, composed of Janissaries and Spahies, under the command of an Aga, who was to be the military commander of the town; while the civil government was placed in the hands of the Sheikh el Haram, or Aga el Haram, the prefect of the temple, who was to correspond regularly [p.392] with the capital, and to have the same rank as Pashas in other towns. With the exception of a short period towards the end of the seventeenth century, when the Sheikh el Haram and the whole town fell under the jurisdiction of the Sherif of Mekka, this mode of government continued until the period of the Wahaby invasion. An Aga was at the head of a few soldiers, some of whom were in possession of the castle; and the Aga el Haram, who also had a small train of soldiers, was the nominal chief of the town. But great abuses had prevailed for the last century: the military commander was no longer chosen by the Sultans, but by his own people, and there were no longer any Turkish soldiers, but only the descendants of those originally sent hither, who had intermarried with the natives. This Aga had become the real master of the town, and his party was spread over all the first families. He had no other soldiers than the rabble of the town itself, and was chosen by the first officers of the garrison, whose employments were still kept up by their descendants, as they had been settled in former times, although the greater part of them had renounced the military profession. This tribe of soldiers, called Merabetein, had been enlarged to strengthen the Aga�s party, and its privileges extended to many other inhabitants of the town, and foreigners who settled here. They were entitled to share in the yearly salaries originally fixed by the Sultan, for the pay of the garrison, and regularly transmitted from Constantinople; and had, besides, usurped a share of the surra or stipends sent to the mosque and to the whole town. The Aga el Haram, together with the Kadhy, who was sent hither annually from Constantinople, to preside over the tribunal of justice, became, under the above circumstances, mere ciphers. The former was usually a eunuch, who knew nothing of Arabic, and who received the appointment rather in the way of exile, than as a preferment. His income, which he received from Constantinople, although handsome, did not enable him to keep up any military guard sufficient to cope with his rival, the Aga of the town; and he soon found himself only left in the charge of the temple, and the command of the eunuchs and [p.393] Ferráshyn. But the Aga of the town himself was not complete master; several of the chiefs of the different quarters had great authority; the Sherifs settled here had their own chief, called Sheikh- es�-Sadat, a man of great power; and thus, much disorder prevailed. The people of the town, and the gardeners and inhabitants of the suburbs, were often contending for months together: in the interior of the town itself bloody affrays often occurred between the inhabitants of the different quarters, on which occasions they sometimes barricadoed the streets, and kept up a firing upon each other from the tops of their houses. Instances are related of people firing even into the mosque upon their enemies, while engaged in prayer. Within the last twenty years a man named Hassan had been appointed Aga of the castle, which gave him the surname of Hassan el Kalay. Born among the dregs of the people, his great skill and cunning, and determined hardihood, had raised him to this office. He was a man of a very short stature and a limping gait, but notwithstanding of great bodily strength; and his voice, when he was in anger, is said to have terrified even the boldest. After several years� hard struggle, this man succeeded in becoming complete master and tyrant of the town: he kept a guard of town�s-people, of Bedouins, and Moggrebyns in his service, and had all the rabble on his side. He was guilty of the most flagrant acts of injustice; he oppressed the pilgrims, extorted money from them, confiscated the property of all the hadjys and foreigners who died here, withheld the surra brought from Constantinople by the Hadj, from the people for whom it was destined, and amassed great wealth. Instances are recorded of tyranny and brutality which cover his name with infamy. A rich old widow, with her daughter, having arrived at Medina, from Constantinople, to visit the tomb, he seized on her, and compelled her to marry him; two days after, she was found dead, her property was seized by him; and a short time after he forced the daughter to yield to his embraces. Many complaints were made at Constantinople against this man, but the Sultan had not power enough to dispossess him; and whenever the caravan arrived from Syria, Hassan el Kalay showed [p.394] so imposing an attitude, that its chiefs could attempt nothing against him. He threw great obstacles in their way; and it is generally ascribed to him, that the last caravan from Damascus, which attempted to perform the journey after the Wahaby conquest, was obliged to return to Syria. When the Wahabys began to make inroads into the Hedjaz, and to direct their forces against Medina, the conduct of Hassan became still more violent. During the two or three years which preceded the capture of the town, he set no bounds to his oppressions, and was often seen to inflict the severest punishments upon persons who happened to be laughing among themselves when he passed by, pretending that his limping gait was the cause of their mirth. During the night shops were robbed by the Arabs in his service, who patrolled the streets in large parties, and no justice could be obtained against them. When he saw the impossibility of holding the town longer against the Wahabys, after all the surrounding Bedouins, and Mekka itself, had surrendered, he gave up the place to Saoud, on condition that he should be continued in his command; this was promised, and the promise was kept: a Wahaby garrison was then placed in the castle; the Aga el Haram, with all the Turks residing in Medina, were obliged to leave the town, where he had been for several years a mere shadow; and Hassan el Kalay remained governor under the Wahabys. Being now unable to act with the same injustice as he had before done, he affected the greatest zeal for the new religion, and oppressed the inhabitants, by enforcing upon them, with the most scrupulous severity, the precepts of the Wababy creed. Saoud showed much less respect for Medina than he had done for Mekka: the income of the latter town was left, as it was, in the hands of the Sherif, and the inhabitants were exempted from the zekat, or tribute, which the other Wahaby subjects paid to the chief, who here abandoned his right in favour of Ghaleb. The same conciliatory system was not observed at Medina: the inhabitants, who had never before known what imposts were, except the payment of some trifling land-tax, found themselves grievously oppressed; and Hassan el Kalay, with the tax-gatherers of Saoud, enforced the taxes with the utmost rigour. [p.395] The Hadj caravans now ceased; few pilgrims arrived by way of Yembo; Saoud, soon after, prohibited the passage to the town to all Turkish pilgrims; and the surra or stipends were of course withheld. Under these circumstances the Medinans felt most heavily the pressure of the times, and became exasperated against the Wahabys. Some further details on the subject will be found in my account of Mohammed Aly�s campaign. When Mohammed Aly first prepared an expedition against the Hedjaz, a strong garrison was placed in Medina, consisting principally of warlike Bedouins from Nedjed and the southern provinces, under the command of Medheyan, whom Saoud had named Sheikh of the tribe of Harb. Hassan el Kalay showed great zeal for the common cause; and, after the first defeat of Tousoun Pasha at Djedeyde, was confirmed in his situation at Medina; but when Tousoun returned a second time with a larger force, Hassan, foreseeing his success, entered into secret negotiations with him, and received the promise of being continued in his office, provided he would facilitate the capture of the town by the Osmanlys. On their arrival before its gates, he joined them, and was received by Ahmed Bonaparte, the Turkish commander, with distinguished honours; the town was soon after attacked, and the castle taken by capitulation: but after the Wahaby party was totally suppressed in these parts, both Medheyan, to whom safe-conduct had been promised, and Hassan el Kalay, were seized, put in chains, and sent by way of Cairo to Constantinople, where they experienced the fate which, the latter at least, well merited, though his crimes can never excuse the treachery of those who seized him. Soon after the above events, the Aga el Haram, a Kislar Agassi of Sultan Selym, returned, and partly recovered his authority; but the real command was now in the hands of the Turkish governor. Towards the end of the year 1814, Tousoun Pasha came here as governor, preparatory to his intended attack upon Nedjed; and here I found him on my arrival. His government was not bad, because his intentions were good, and he was liked by the inhabitants for his [p.396] generosity and devotion; but his proceedings were foolish enough: he frightened away the Bedouins, by seizing their camels; he thus cut off the supplies from the town, created a general want of every kind of provision, and other necessaries; and his soldiers then soon began to commit excesses, which he neglected to suppress by punishment. After Tousoun�s departure, his father, Mohammed Aly, arrived here in April, 1815, and with his more experienced judgment immediately took the proper measures for repairing the errors of his son. Medina now continues under the government of a Turkish commander; a post filled for a few months by the Scotchman, Thomas Keith, or Ibrahim Aga, whom I have mentioned as being the treasurer of Tousoun Pasha. The Aga el Haram keeps about sixty or eighty soldiers, a motley crew of Turks, Arabs, Moggrebyns, and people of Medina; and all ecclesiastical affairs, and the pecuniary business of the mosque, are left in his hands. Next to him in importance stands the Kadhy, who, in the time of the Wahabys, had been obliged to retire. The Sheikh of the Sherifs, or Sadat, continues to enjoy great respect, as well as several other Sheikhs of the town; and I believe, after all, that the Medinans dislike their present masters, the Turks, less than any other class of the people of the Hedjaz, although they certainly have not yet been cordially reconciled to them. Prior to the Wahaby invasion, the Sherif of Mekka kept an officer here of inferior rank, to receive some trifling duties upon vegetables, flesh, and other provisions brought to market; the only tax of the kind paid by the Medinans, and the last remnant of the jurisdiction once enjoyed by the Sherif of Mekka over Medina, and which, in later times, has been entirely lost. Sherif Ghaleb had no authority here whatever; but I believe, though I am not quite sure, that he still assumed the nominal superiority, or the title of Chief of Medina; and that Medina was supposed by the Porte to form part of the Hedjaz, under the command of the Sherif of Mekka. Several respectable Arabian writers affirm, that Medina forms a part of Nedjed, and not of the Hedjaz, situated as it is on the eastern side of the great chain; and this opinion seems to be well founded, [p.397] if the natural boundary be considered; but, in the common acceptation of the word on the coast, and at Mekka and Medina, the latter town is supposed to form part of the Hedjaz, although the Bedouins of the interior give quite a different meaning to this appellation. [p.398] CLIMATE AND DISEASES OF MEDINA. I FOUND the climate at Medina, during the winter months, much colder than that of Mekka. Snow is unknown here, though I heard that some old people remembered to have seen it in the neighbouring mountains. The rains have no fixed period in winter, but fall at intervals, and usually in violent storms, which last for one day, or perhaps two days, only: sometimes a whole winter passes without more than one fall of rain, excepting a few light showers; the consequence of which is a general dearth. The Medinans say, that three or four gushes of rain are necessary to irrigate their soil; the water of the torrents then inundating many parts of the country, especially the pasturing grounds of the Bedouins. Uninterrupted rains for a week, or longer, such as often occur in Syria, are quite unknown here; and after every gush of rain, which lasts for twenty-four hours, the sky clears up, and the finest spring weather prevails for several weeks. The last storms are usually in April, but occasional showers are not unfrequent even in the middle of summer. The Medinans, and many foreigners, assert, that the summer-heat is greater here than in any other part of the Hedjaz: I was not able to judge myself. I have already stated that the saline nature of the soil and water, the stagnant pools of rain-water round the town, and perhaps the exhalation and vapours produced by the thick date-groves [p.399] in its neighbourhood, render the air of Medina little favourable to health. Fevers are the most common disease, to which many of the inhabitants themselves are subject, and from which strangers who remain here any time seldom escape, especially in spring. Yahya Effendi, the physician of Tousoun Pasha, assured me, when I was sick, that he had eighty persons ill of fever under his care; and it appeared that he was more fortunate in their cure than in mine. The fevers are almost all intermittent, and attended after their cure by great languor: relapses are much dreaded. When I went out after my recovery, I found the streets filled with convalescents, whose appearance but too clearly showed how numerous were my fellow-sufferers in the town. If not cured within a certain time, these fevers often occasion hard swellings in the stomach and legs, which are not removed without great difficulty. The Medinans care little about this intermittent fever, to which they are accustomed, and with them it seldom proves fatal; but the case is otherwise with strangers. In some seasons it assumes an epidemic character, when as many as eighty persons are known to have died in one week; instances of this kind, however, seldom happen. Dysenteries are said to be rare here. Bilious complaints, and jaundice, are very common. There appears to be in general a much greater mortality here than in any other part of the East that I have visited. My lodgings were very near to one of the principal gates of the mosque, through which the corpses were carried when prayers were to be said over them; and I could hear, from my sick bed, the exclamations of �La illah il Allah,� with which that ceremony was accompanied. During my three months� confinement one funeral at least, and often two, passed every day under my window. If we reckon on the average three bodies per day carried into the mosque through this gate, as well as the others, besides the poor Arabs who die in the suburbs, and over whose bodies prayers are said in the mosque situated in the Monakh, we shall have about twelve hundred deaths annually, in this small town, the whole population of which, I believe [p.400] to be at most from sixteen to twenty thousand; a mortality which cannot be repaired by births, and would long ago have depopulated the place, did not the arrival of foreigners continually supply the loss. Of this population I reckon about ten or twelve thousand for the town itself, and the rest for the suburbs. [p.401] JOURNEY FROM MEDINA TO YEMBO. April 21st. 1815. OUR small caravan assembled in the afternoon near the outer gate of the town, and at five o�clock P.M. we passed through the same gate by which I entered, on my arrival, three months ago. Then I was in full health and spirits, and indulging the fond hopes of exploring unknown and interesting parts of the Desert on my return to Egypt; but now, worn down by lingering disease, dejected, and desponding, with no more anxious wish than to reach a friendly and salubrious spot, where I might regain my health. The ground leading to the town on this side is rocky. About three quarters of an hour distant, the road has a steep short descent, hemmed in by rocks, and is paved, to facilitate the passage of caravans. Our direction was S.W. by S. In one hour we came to the bed of a torrent called Wady el Akyk, which during the late rains had received so copious a supply from the neighbouring mountains, that it had become like a deep and broad river, which our camels could not attempt to pass. As the day was fine, we expected to see it considerably diminished the next morning, and therefore encamped on its banks, at a place called El Madderidje. Here is a small ruined village, the houses of which were well built of stone, with a small birket or reservoir, and a ruined well close by. Its inhabitants cultivate some fields on the bank of Wady Akyk, but the incursions of the Bedouins had obliged them to retire. [p.402] Wady Akyk is celebrated by the Arabian poets. [Samhoudy says, that this torrent empties itself into the same low ground called El Ghaba, or Zaghaba, to the west of Medina, in the mountains where all the torrents in this neighbourhood discharge themselves. He says also, that on the banks of this torrent, eastward, stood the small Arab fortification called Kasr el Meradjel; and from thence towards Ghaba the torrent crosses a district called El Nakya. About five miles distant from Medina was a station of the Hadj, called Zy�l Haleyfe, situated on the banks of Wady Akyk, with a small castle and a birket, which was rebuilt in A.H. 861. Perhaps this Madderidje is meant by it.] On its banks stand a number of ashour trees, which were now in full flower. We were accompanied thus far by a number of people from Medina, in compliment to one of the Muftis of Mekka, who had been on a visit to the town, and was now returning to his home, intending to leave our caravan at Szafra. He had several tents and women with him. My other fellow- travellers were petty merchants of Medina going to await at Djidda the arrival of the Indian ships, and a rich merchant from Maskat, whom I had seen at Mekka, where he was on the pilgrimage: he had ten camels to carry his women, his infant children, his servants, and his baggage; and he spent, at every station, considerable sums in charity. He appeared, in every respect, a liberal and worthy Arab. April 22nd. The torrent had decreased, and we crossed it in the afternoon. We rode for an hour in a narrow valley, following the torrent upwards. At the end of an hour and half we left the torrent: the plain opened to the east, and is here called Esselsele; our road over it was in the direction W.S.W. The rocks spread over the plain were calcareous. At the end of three hours and a half we again entered the mountain, and continued in its vallies, slowly descending, for the whole night. At the break of day we passed the plain called El Fereysh, where I had encamped the day before I reached Medina; and alighted, after a march of twelve hours and a half, in the upper part of Wady es Shohada. [The distances of this journey do not exactly agree with those given in coming to Medina; but I prefer stating them as I found them noted down in my journal.] April 23rd. We had no sooner deposited our baggage than a [p.403] heavy rain set in, accompanied with tremendous peals of thunder and flashes of lightning. The whole Wady was flooded in a moment, and we expected that it would be necessary to pass the whole day here. I found shelter in the tent of the merchant of Maskat. In the afternoon the storm ceased. At two P.M. we started, and at the end of an hour passed the tombs of the Martyrs or Shohada, the followers of Mohammed, forty of whom, it was said, lie buried there. We continued slowly descending in the Wady, mostly in the direction S.S.W. At the top of Wady Shohada, the granite rocks begin, the upper ranges of that chain being calcareous. At the end of five hours we issued from the Wady. In the night we passed the plains of Shab el Hal and Nazye; and, after a march of thirteen hours and a half, encamped in the mountains, in the wide valley called Wady Medyk, which lies in the road from Nazye to Djedeyde, two hours distant from the former, and which we had passed at night in my former journey. I heard that in these mountains between Medina and the sea, all the way northward, mountain-goats are met with, and that leopards are not uncommon. April 24th. A few Arabs of Beni Salem here sow some fields with durra, which they irrigate by means of a fine spring of running water issuing from a cleft in the mountains, where it forms several small basins and pretty cascades--the best water I had drank since leaving the mountains of Tayf. We started from hence in the afternoon, and encountered more heavy rain from mid-day to sun-set. In the caravan were several sick and convalescents, especially women, who were all complaining. I had had a strong attack of fever during the night, which returned to-day, and lasted till I reached Yembo. It was particularly distressing to me, being accompanied by profuse perspiration during the night, followed by shivering fits towards day-break; and as the caravan could not halt on my account, I had no opportunity to change my linen. We were, moreover, obliged to encamp upon wet ground; and as the number of camel-drivers was very small, considering the quantity of baggage, I could not avoid assisting to load, my own Bedouin being one of the most ill-natured and lazy fellows I ever met with among people of his nation. [p.404] We rode in the winding valley for two hours and a half, to El Kheyf, the beginning of Wady Djedeyde, where the chief of the Turkish post stationed there inquired for news from head-quarters: he had been a whole fortnight without hearing what was done at Medina. During the whole Turkish campaign in the Hedjaz, no regular couriers had been any where established. Tousoun Pasha was often left for months at Medina, ignorant of the state of the army under his father; and even the latter usually received his intelligence from Mekka and Djidda by ordinary conveyances of caravans; expresses were seldom despatched, and still less any regular communication established over land between Cairo and Mekka. Not merely in this respect, but in many other details of warfare, the best Turkish commanders show an incredible want of activity or foresight, which causes the surprise even of Bedouins, and must expose their operations to certain failure whenever they encounter a more vigilant enemy with no disparity of force. The camp of the soldiers at Kheyf was completely inundated, and the whole breadth of the wady covered with a rapid stream of water. Without stopping any where we passed Djedeyde at the end of three hours and a half, and further on Dar el Hamra, where the inhabitants had cultivated several new plantations, since I passed this way in January. The copious rains were a sure prognostic of a plentiful year, and the ever-recurring questions put to our guides by the people they passed on the road were, whether such and such a spot in the upper country was well drenched with rain. In seven hours we came to Szafra. The party from Mekka that was with us, separated here, having hired their camels only thus far, from whence they intended to take others for the journey to Mekka; and those which had carried them thus far, followed our party to Yembo. All those camels which are engaged in the transport and carriage between the coast and Medina, belong to the Beni Harb tribe. We remained a few minutes only, about midnight, at Szafra, to drink some coffee in one of the shops, and then continued our road to the westward of the route by which I reached Szafra in coming from Mekka. Thick date- plantations form an uninterrupted line on both [p.405] sides of the narrow valley in which we slowly descended. After nine hours and a half we passed a village called El Waset, built among the date-groves, and having extensive gardens of fruit-trees in its vicinity. At every step water is found in wells or fountains. A little beyond this village we left the valley to the right, and took our way up a steep mountain, this being a nearer road than that through the valley. The route over the mountain was rocky and steep; our guides obliged us to walk, and it was with difficulty that I mustered strength sufficient to reach the summit; from thence we descended by a less rough declivity, and, after twelve hours� march, again fell into the road in the valley, near a small village called Djedyd. The mountain we had crossed has the name of Thenyet Waset. The valley we had left to our right takes a western circuitous tour, and includes several other villages, of which I heard the following mentioned: Hosseynye, (nearest to Waset); then, lower down, Fara and Barake, in the vicinity of Djedyd. Below Waset the the valley is considered as belonging to Wady Beder, and above it to Szafra. Djedyd has very few date-trees and fields; it stands upon a plain, through which the torrent passes, after having irrigated the upper plantations of the wady. We continued on this plain for one hour, direction S. 50 W. After a thirteen hours� march we entered a chain of mountains, extending westward, the same which I have mentioned in my journey to Medina, as branching out westward from the great chain near Bir-es�-Sheikh. Our road lay in a broad sandy valley, with little windings, which brought us, after a very fatiguing march of fourteen hours and a half, to Beder. April 25th. Beder, or as it is also called, Beder Honeyn, is a small town, the houses of which are built either of stone or mud, and of better appearance, although less numerous, than those of Szafra. It is surrounded by a miserable mud wall, ruined in many places. A copious rivulet flows through the town, which rises in the ridge of mountains we had just passed, and is conducted in a stone channel: it waters extensive date-groves, with gardens and fields on the south-west side of the place; and, although at a distance from its source, [p.406] is still somewhat tepid. El Assamy, the historian of Mekka, says that El Ghoury, Sultan of Egypt, built a fine reservoir at Beder, for the Hadj; but I did not see it, and am ignorant whether it be yet in existence. Beder is situated in a plain bounded towards the N. and E. by steep mountains; to the S. by rocky hills, and to the W. by hills of moving sand. The Hadj caravans usually make this a station; and we found the place where they had encamped just by the gate of the town, four months ago, still covered with carcases of camels, rags of clothes, and remains of broken utensils, &c. Beder is famous in Arabian history for the battle fought here by Mohammed, in the second year of the Hedjra, with a superior force of the Koreysh Arabs, who had come in aid of a rich caravan expected from Syria, which Mohammed intended to waylay on this spot. Although very ill, I walked out with the Maskat hadjys, to inspect the field of battle, to which we were guided by a man from Beder. To the south of the town, about one mile distant, at the foot of the hills, are the tombs of the thirteen followers and friends of the Prophet, who fell by his side. They are mere heaps of earth, enclosed by a row of loose stones, and are all close together. The Koreysh, as our guide explained to us, were posted upon the hill behind the tombs, while Mohammed had divided his small force into two parts, with one of which he himself advanced in the plain against the enemy, and the reserve was entrusted to Aly ibn Aby Taleb, with orders to take his post upon the sand-hill on the western side. The battle could not be won without the interposition of heaven; and three thousand angels, with Gabriel at their head, were sent to Mohammed�s assistance. The above-mentioned thirteen persons were slain in the first onset. The Prophet, hard pressed, hid himself behind a large rock, which opened miraculously to admit him, and enabled him to reach his reserve; he then made a second attack, and with the heavenly auxiliaries was victorious, not losing another man, although seventy of his adversaries were killed on the spot. A handful of stones, or dust, which he (or according to the Koran, which God) threw towards his enemies, caused them to fly. After he had forced their position, he rested a little upon [p.407] a stone, which, sensible of the honour, forthwith assumed the form of a seat. The rock and the stone are shown; and, at all events answer one good purpose, which is to excite the visiter�s charity towards the poor of Beder, who assemble at it whenever a caravan arrives. The position of Aly�s troop upon the distant hill, that of the party of Mohammed close to the enemy, and the plain beyond that hill, where the caravan from Syria pursued its route during the battle, are made to explain the passage of the Koran, which alludes to it thus; �You were on the nearer side of the valley, and they on the further side, and the caravan was below,� (Sur. 8.): but I could not well understand that passage, according to the usual interpretation; and rather believe that by the word rukb, which is taken here as synonymous with caravan, the party of horsemen under Aly must be understood, whose position, although upon a hill, was, with relation to Beder, a low one, the ground descending slightly. Several small domes, which had been erected here, were ruined by the Wahabys. In returning to the village, we walked, on its south side, into the mosque called Mesdjed el Ghemáme, built on the spot where Mohammed once sat exposed to the sun�s rays, and prayed to God for a cloud which might overshadow him; this was immediately granted; and the mosque derives its name from the cloud. It is better built and more spacious than might be expected in such a poor place. The market of Beder is furnished with the same articles as that of Szafra. Some water-melons, the produce of the gardens, were offered for sale. The Maskat merchant purchased, without my knowledge, five pounds of Mekka balsam, all that remained in the market, which he intended for a present to the Imám of Maskat. It was in the same adulterated state as that I had formerly seen at Szafra. The inhabitants of Beder are chiefly Bedouins of the tribe of Sobh, belonging to Harb, some of whom have become settlers here. Others only have their shops here, and return every evening to the tents of their family in the neighbouring mountains. Beder being a place much frequented by Bedouins and travellers, the houses are in great request, and a small shop in the market pays as much as twenty [p.408] dollars a year rent. Some Sherif families are also established here, to whom the Hadj pays at passing considerable stipends. In the evening several hundred camels belonging to Bedouins came to be watered at the rivulet, escorted principally by women, who freely entered into conversation with us. The Beni Harb established at Djedeyde, Szafra, and Beder, give their daughters in marriage to strangers, and even to settlers; and a few Turkish soldiers, attracted by the beauty of some Bedouin girls, had fixed themselves here, and married them: one of them, an Arnaut, who spoke good Arabic, and had been accustomed from his youth to the wild life of warlike mountaineers, intended to follow his young wife to the mountain. In the neighbouring mountains are immense numbers of the eagle (rakham); hundreds of them were constantly hovering about us; and some actually pounced down, and carried off the meat from our dishes. April 26th. We had remained here the whole of yesterday. Some people of Beder kept watch at night over our caravan, for which they received a small compliment. This place abounds with robbers, and we were encamped outside the gate of the town. We left Beder in the evening, and took a direction N. 45 W. After proceeding for three quarters of an hour, we came to the ridge of sand-hills above mentioned, the highest summit of which is called Goz Aly, in memory of the position occupied there by Aly, during the battle of Beder. We crossed these hills for half an hour with difficulty, the sands being very deep, and then descended into the great western plain, extending as far as the sea, which is reached from Beder in one night�s march, at a small harbour, south of Yembo, called Bereyke, much frequented by shipping. The plain, which we entered in the direction W. 1 N. is overgrown with shrubs. During our night-march we saw the fires of different Bedouin encampments. We met two negro pilgrims, who had started from Yembo by themselves, and were in great distress for water: we gave them both meat and drink, and directed them towards the Bedouin encampments. Without a compass, these enterprising travellers find their route across deserts: the direction of the road is shown to them at starting, and they pursue it in a straight line by [p.409] night and by day, until they arrive at the destined spot. After a ride of ten hours from Beder, we encamped at the break of day in a part of the plain, where low acacia-trees grow, called adheyba. April 27. I found myself in a very low state this morning. Violent vomiting and profuse sweats had rendered the last night one of the most disagreeable nights I passed in my travels. A quarrel with my guide, about victuals, further increased my fever to-day, to which perhaps the late relaxation of my nerves through illness contributed. To our right, northwards, about six hours distant, a chain of high mountains extends towards the sea. Nearer to us a lower ridge takes the same direction. The plain upon which we encamped is sandy, covered with small pebbles and petrosilex. We set out after mid-day. Four hours and a half, direction N.W. by N., trees and shrubs are no longer seen; a few saline shrubs only indicate the proximity of the sea; and a little further on, the ground becomes covered with a salt crust, while the air is strongly impregnated with sea-vapours. At the end of seven hours and a half, we again found some trees in the plain, interspersed with salt-increased spots. At fourteen hours, having travelled the whole night over bad ground, we saw Yembo at sun-rise; and after a ride of fifteen hours and a half, at a very slow pace, we reached the gate of the town: just before it we crossed an inlet of the harbour, it being then low water, but which extends to a considerable distance inland at high tide. [p.410] YEMBO. IT was with some difficulty that I could find a room in one of the okales or khans of the town, which were filled with soldiers, who had received permission to return to Cairo, after their last expedition against the southern Wahabys, and had come here from Djidda and Mekka; and, besides them, there were many hadjys, who, after their return from Medina, intended to embark for Suez or Cosseir. Among the latter was the lady of Mohammed Aly Pasha, who had arrived from Medina; for the transport of whose escort, suite, and baggage, four ships were in a state of preparation. After having deposited my baggage in an airy room, on the terrace of an okale, I walked towards the harbour, to inquire about a passage to Egypt. This, I soon understood, it was impossible to obtain at present. Positive orders had been given, that none should embark but soldiers, who had already engaged three or four ships, then ready to sail; and of whom upwards of fifteen hundred, including many Turkish hadjys, who passed for soldiers, being armed and dressed like them, were still waiting for conveyances. While I was sitting in a coffee-house near the harbour, three funerals passed at short intervals; and upon expressing my surprise at this, I learned that many people had died within these few days of feverish complaints. I had heard, when at Beder, that a bad fever prevailed at Yembo, but then paid little attention to the report. During the rest of the day I saw several other funerals, but had not the slightest [p.411] idea to what so many deaths were to be attributed, till night, when I had retired to my room up-stairs, which overlooked a considerable part of the town; I then heard, in every direction, innumerable voices breaking out in those heart-rending cries which all over the Levant, accompany the parting breath of a friend or relative. At that moment the thought flashed upon my mind, that it might be the plague: I attempted, in vain, to dispel my apprehensions, or at least to drown them in sleep; but the dreadful cries kept me awake the whole night. When I descended early in the morning into the okale, where many Arabs were drinking their coffee, I communicated to them my apprehensions; but had no sooner mentioned the word plague, than they called me to order, asking me if I was ignorant that the Almighty had for ever excluded that disorder from the holy territory of the Hedjaz? Such an argument admits of no reply among Moslims; I therefore walked out, in search of some Greek Christians, several of whom I had seen the day before, in the street, and from them I received a full confirmation of my fears. The plague had broken out ten days ago: it had been raging at Cairo with the greatest fury for several months; and at Suez a large part of the population had died: from that port two ships laden with cotton stuffs had carried it to Djidda, and from thence it was communicated to Yembo. No instance of the plague had ever before been witnessed in the Hedjaz, at least none within the memory of man; and the inhabitants could with difficulty persuade themselves that such an event had occurred, especially at a time when the holy cities had been reconquered from the Wahabys. The intercourse with Egypt had not at any time been greater than now, and it was, therefore, no wonder that this scourge should be carried to the Hedjaz. While ten or fifteen people only died per day, the Arabs of the town could not believe that the disease was the plague, although the usual appearance of the biles upon the bodies of the infected, and the rapid progress of the disorder, which seldom lasted more than three or four days, might have been convincing proofs. In five or six days after my arrival the mortality increased; forty or fifty persons died in a day, which, in a population of five or six thousand, was a terrible mortality. The inhabitants now felt a panic: little disposed to submit [p.412] as patiently to the danger as the Turks do in every other part of the East, the greater part of them fled into the open country, and the town became deserted; but the disease followed the fugitives, who had encamped close together; and thus finding no remedy to the evil, many of them returned. They excused their flight by saying, �God in his mercy sends this disease, to call us to his presence; but we are conscious of our unworthiness, and feel that we do not deserve his grace; therefore, we think it better to decline it, for the present, and to fly from it:� an argument which I heard frequently repeated. Had I been myself in full strength, I should, no doubt, have followed their example and gone into the Desert; but I felt extremely weak, and incapable of any exertions. I thought also that I might escape the disease, shut up in my insulated room, and indulged moreover the hope of a speedy passage to Egypt; in the latter, however, I was deceived. By making a few presents, and a little bribery, I might perhaps have found means to embark forthwith; but the vessels now ready to sail were crowded to excess, and full of diseased soldiers, so that a stay in the infected town was to be preferred to a departure by such a conveyance. Some days after, I learnt that a small open boat, free from troops, was ready to sail for Cosseir, and I immediately agreed for a passage on board it; but its sailing was delayed from day to day, until the fifteenth of May, when I finally left Yembo, after a stay of eighteen days in the midst of the plague. It was, perhaps, my own bad state of health, and the almost uninterrupted low fever under which I laboured, that preserved me; for, notwithstanding all my care, I was many times exposed to infection. The great street of Yembo was lined with sick, in the very agonies of death, asking for charity; in the yard of the okale where I lived, an Arab was dying; the master of the okale lost a sister and a son in his own family, and related to me, as he sat on my carpet, how his son died the preceding night in his arms. The imprudence of my slave likewise counteracted all my measures of precaution. Having missed him for several days early in the morning, I inquired the cause of his absence, when he told me that he had gone to assist in washing the dead bodies. The poor who died during [p.413] the night were exposed in the morning upon biers, on the sea- shore, to be washed before the ceremony of praying over them in the mosque; and my slave thought it meritorious to join in this office, which had devolved upon several negro pilgrims, who happened to be at Yembo. I desired him to remain at home, for the future, at that hour, to prepare my breakfast; but I was as little able to prevent his walking out at other times, as I could myself dispense with that duty; and one could scarcely pass the bazar without touching infected people, or at least those who had been in close contact with them. The sense of the danger which then threatened me is much greater, now that I find myself far removed from it, than I felt it at the time. After the first four or five days, I became tolerably familiarized with the idea of the plague, and compared the small numbers who died every day with the mass of the remaining inhabitants. The great many cases of persons remaining in full health, notwithstanding the closest connexion with the deceased, considerably removed the apprehensions of the malady being communicated by infection; and example works so powerfully on the mind, that when I saw the number of foreigners then in the town quite unconcerned, I began to be almost ashamed of myself for possessing less courage than they displayed. The disease seemed, however, to be of the most malignant kind; very few of those who were attacked, escaped, and the same was observed at Djidda. The Arabs used no kind of medicine; I heard of a few people having been bled, and of others having been cured by applying a drawing-plaster to the neck; but these were rare instances, which were not imitated by the great mass. As it is the custom to bury the dead in a very few hours after decease, two instances occurred during my stay at Yembo, of persons supposed dead being buried alive: the stupor into which they fell when the disorder was at a crisis, had been mistaken for death. One of them gave signs of life at the moment they were depositing him in the grave, and was saved: the body of the other, when his tomb was re-opened several days after his burial, to admit the corpse of a near relation, was found with bloody hands and face, and the winding-sheet torn, by the unavailing [p.414] efforts he had made to rise. On seeing this, the people said, that the devil, being unable to hurt his soul, had thus disfigured his body. The governor of Yembo took great care that the exact amount of the mortality in the town should not be known; but the solemn exclamations of �La illaha ill� Allah,� which indicate a Moslim funeral, struck the ear from every side and quarter of the town, and I counted myself forty- two in one day. To the poor the plague becomes a real feast; every family that can afford it, kills a sheep on the death of any of its members, and the day after, the men and women of the whole neighbourhood are entertained at the house. The women enter the apartments, embrace and console all the females of the family, and expose themselves every moment to infection. It is to this custom, more than any other cause, that the rapid dissemination of the plague in Mohammedan towns must be ascribed; for when the disease once breaks out in a family, it never fails of being transmitted to the whole neighbourhood. It is a common belief among Europeans, and even eastern Christians, that the Mohammedan religion forbids any precautionary measures against the plague; but this is erroneous. That religion forbids its followers from avoiding the disease if it has once entered a town or country; but it warns them at the same time, not to enter any place where the plague rages: and it accordingly forbids individuals to shut themselves up in a house, and to cut off all communication with the rest of the infected town, because this is the same as flying from the plague; but it favours measures of quarantine, to prevent the importation of the disease, or its communication to strangers upon their arrival. The belief in predestination, however, is so deeply and universally rooted in the minds of the eastern nations, that not the slightest measures of safety are any where adopted. The numberless extraordinary instances of the disease sparing those who have come into closest contact with it, confirm them in their opinion that it is not epidemic; and their prophet Mohammed has declared to them, �that the plague is caused by the demon�s hostile attack upon mankind,� and that �those who die of it are martyrs.� The universal opinion [p.415] prevails among Moslims, that an invisible angel of death, armed with a lance, touches the victims he destines for the plague, whom he finds out in the most hidden recesses. The trunk of a palm-tree lay in one of the streets of Yembo, and it had been observed that many people who had stepped over it, had soon after been seized with the plague; it was therefore believed that the demon had there taken his favourite stand, to wound the passer-by; and therefore the Arabs took a circuitous road, to avoid their foe, although they were persuaded that he was light-footed and could overtake them wherever they went. That the Christians and Franks escape the disease by shutting themselves up in their houses, affords but a feeble proof to the contrary. Imprudence, and the tardy adoption of these measures, always cause a slight mortality even among them; and such cases are afterwards adduced in proof of the folly of attempting to oppose the decrees of Providence. Besides, there are many Christians in the East, who follow Turkish maxims, and, impressed with the same notions of predestination, think it superfluous to take any steps for their safety. Turks trifle with so many of the prescribed duties of their religion, that it might not, perhaps, be difficult, in this instance, to make them adopt rational opinions; and the more so, as the Koran is silent upon this head: but no private measures can be adopted, and rigidly observed, as long as every individual, almost, is convinced in his own mind of their folly and inefficacy. If this were not universally the case, the Turks themselves would, long ago, have found means of resorting to prophylactics, in spite of their religious doctrines; as the Arabs now did in the Hedjaz; and their olemas would have furnished them with fetwas, and quotations from the law, in favour of what their good sense might have led them to adopt. In the Hadyth, or sacred traditions, a saying of Mohammed is recorded: �Fly from the leprous, as thou flyest from the lion.� The case is different, respecting the means of preventing the plague from being imported, or to establish regular quarantines. This is a measure depending entirely upon the government. The most fanatic and orthodox Muselmans, those of the Barbary states, have adopted this system; and the laws of quarantine are as strictly enforced in their [p.416] harbours, as they are in the European ports on the northern shores of the Mediterranean. That a similar system has not been introduced into Turkey is matter of deep concern, and may be attributed rather to motives of interest, than to bigotry. Constantinople, and the ports of the Archipelago, I have not visited myself; but I know that it would be easy for the governors of Syria, and still more for the governor of Egypt, to use their authority in introducing a system of quarantine on the coast, without any dread of opposition from their subjects. The governments of Syria, however, must be guided in such matters by the Porte, and would hardly attempt to establish quarantine, without the authority of their sovereign: but Mohammed Aly has often acted directly contrary to the orders of the Porte, even in matters affecting his sovereign�s pecuniary interest; and we may believe that it is not solely the fear of displeasing his master, which has prevented him from listening to the frequent friendly advice and representations made to him on this subject by European powers; and, at the same time, his loose religious principles are too well known, to suppose that bigotry restrains him from yielding to their solicitations. While for four succeeding years, from 1812 to 1816, the plague has every spring made ravages in Egypt, Mohammed Aly himself, with his family and principal officers, have been shut up in their palaces with scrupulous care; thus offering infinitely more scandal to the people than they would have done by the establishment of quarantine regulations. Wishing, however, to be considered by Europeans as a liberally-thinking man, devoid of any prejudices, he had really given orders, in 1813 and 1814, to establish a quarantine at Alexandria; but the shameful manner in which it was conducted, clearly proved that he had no sincere wish to guard his subjects from the horrors of infection; and the whole scheme was soon after abandoned. My own inquiries, and the opinion of many Turks themselves, who judge of the measures of their own government much better than is generally supposed, have led me to believe, that the Grand Signior, as well as his Pashas, tolerate the plague in their dominions, because the numerous deaths fill their purses: with respect to Egypt, I hold this to be indisputably the secret cause. The commercial towns of Cairo, Alexandria, [p.417] and Damietta, are crowded with foreign merchants, and other strangers from all quarters of the East are established there: according to the law, the property of all persons who have no near heirs to claim it, falls to the Beit el Mál; a treasury, formerly destined for purposes beneficial to the subjects, but now entirely at the private disposal of the governors. The increased mortality thus causes great sums to fall into their hands. The prefect of every quarter of the town must, under the heaviest penalties, inform the government of any stranger or individual without heirs who dies within his district; and not only is the property of such people seized, but even that of those persons whose heirs, although known, are absent in foreign countries, and to whom no other privilege is granted, in return, than that of addressing their unavailing claims to the same governor, who converts the income of the Beit el Mál to his own use. The most flagrant injustice is committed with respect to the property of deceased persons, as well during the plague as at other times; and the Kadhy, with a whole train of olemas, officers, and people in inferior employments, share in the illegal spoil. In the same manner the property of military officers, and of many soldiers, is sequestrated at their death. Upon a moderate calculation, the plague this year in Egypt, which carried off in the city of Cairo alone from thirty to forty thousand, added twenty thousand purses, or ten millions of piastres, to the coffers of the Pasha, a sum large enough to stifle any feelings of humanity in the breast of a Turk. That the population has diminished, and consequently the regular revenues suffered, is a reflection which a Turkish governor never makes, who calculates merely the immediate consequences of an event; and, provided he be safe himself, and his wealth increasing, cares little for the fate of his subjects. As the plague seldom visits the open country, and therefore does not deprive the soil of its labourers, its effects are less dreaded by the Pasha. He will never be convinced that policy, as well as humanity, dictates a removal of the causes of plague, until he has seen a whole province depopulated, and the fields which yield him his revenues deserted. [The little care taken by the government in Egypt for preserving the lives of the subject is evinced in an equally strange manner, by the neglect with which the small-pox is treated; a disease that makes as great ravages in Upper Egypt as ever the plague could do, which, itself seldom visits those southern provinces. The numerous representations made to Mohammed Aly for the introduction of vaccination have been of no avail, though, if he had chosen to inquire, he might have known that in 1813, in the small town of Esne alone, upwards of two hundred and fifty persons, adults and children, fell victims to the small-pox, the violence of which is much greater in these climates than in Europe.] [p.418] It should seem as if Constantinople and Cairo were the great receptacles of plague in the East, communicating it mutually to each other, and to the neighbouring countries. How far the joint and energetic representations of European powers might induce the Grand Signior to adopt measures of safety for his capital, and to insure by that means the safety of the population of European Turkey and Anatolia, I am unable to decide; but I have little doubt, that a firm remonstrance from the English government would induce the Pasha of Egypt to obey the call of humanity, and thus benefit Egypt, as well as Syria and the English possessions in the Mediterranean. The ravages of the plague were still more deplorable at Djidda than at Yembo; as many as two hundred and fifty persons died there per day. Great numbers of the inhabitants fled to Mekka, thinking to be safe in that sacred asylum; but they carried the disease with them, and a number of Mekkans died, although much less in proportion than at Djidda. Even the Kadhy of Djidda, an Arab, made his escape to Mekka, with all his olemas; but Hassan Pasha, then governor of the holy city, ordered him, under pain of death, to return immediately to his post; and he died on the road. The principal marketstreet of Djidda was quite deserted, and numbers of families were entirely destroyed. As a great many foreign merchants were then in Djidda, their property considerably increased Mohammed Aly�s treasure; and I heard from eye-witnesses, that the only business then done in the town was the transport of corpses to the burial-ground, and that of the deceased�s valuable property to the house of the commandant. Medina remained free from the plague, as did the open country between Yembo and Djidda. I shall mention here a particular custom of the Arabs. When the [p.419] plague had reached its height at Yembo, the Arab inhabitants led in procession through the town a she-camel, thickly covered with all sorts of ornaments, feathers, bells, &c. &c.: when they reached the burialground, they killed it, and threw its flesh to the vultures and the dogs. They hoped that the plague, dispersed over the town, would hasten to take refuge in the body of the camel, and that by slaughtering the victim, they would get rid at once of the disease. Many of the more sensible Arabs laughed at this; but it was so far of some use, that it inspired the lower classes with courage. The town of Yembo is built on the northern side of a deep bay, which affords good anchorage for ships, and is protected from the violence of the wind by an island at its entrance. The ships lie close in shore, and the harbour is spacious enough to contain the largest fleet. The town is divided by a creek of the bay into two parts; the largest division is called exclusively Yembo; the other, on the western side, bears the name of El Kad, and is principally inhabited by seafaring people. Both divisions have the sea in front, and are enclosed on the other sides by a common wall, of considerable strength, better built than those of Djidda, Tayf, and Medina. It is flanked by many towers and was erected by the joint labour of the inhabitants themselves, as a defence against the Wahabys, the ancient wall being ruined, and enclosing only a part of the town. The new wall comprises an area almost double the space occupied by habitations, leaving between it and the latter, large open squares, which are either used as burial-grounds, encamping-places for caravans, for the exercising of troops, or are abandoned as waste ground. The extent of the wall would require a large garrison to defend it at all points; the whole armed population of Yembo is inadequate to it: but Eastern engineers always estimate the strength of a fortification by its size; and with the same view a thick wall and deep ditch have been lately carried along the outskirts of the old town of Alexandria, which it would require at least twenty-five thousand men to defend. Yembo has two gates towards the east and north; Bab el Medina, and Bab el Masry. The houses of the town are worse built than those [p.420] of any other town in the Hedjaz. Their structure is so coarse, that few of the stones with which they are built have their surfaces hewn smooth. The stone is calcareous, full of fossils, and of a glaring white colour, which renders the view of the town particularly distressing to the eyes. Most of the houses have only a ground-floor. Except three or four badly-built mosques, a few half-ruined public khans, and the house of the governor on the sea-side, (also a mean building), there is no large edifice in the place. Yembo is a complete Arab town; very few foreigners are settled here: of Indians, who have such numerous colonies at Mekka, Djidda, and Medina, two or three individuals only are found as shopkeepers; all the merchants being Arabs, except a few Turks, who occasionally take up a temporary residence. Most of the inhabitants belong to the Bedouin tribe of Djeheyne, in this neighbourhood, (which extends northward along the sea-shore), many of whom have become settlers: several families of Sherifs, originally from Mekka, have mixed with them. The settlers in this town, or, as they are called, the Yembawys, continue to live and dress like Bedouins. They wear the keffie, or green and yellow striped silk handkerchief, on the head, and a white abba on their shoulder, with a gown of blue linen, or coloured cotton, or silk stuff, under it, which they tie close with a leathern girdle. Their eating, and whole mode of living, their manners and customs, are those of Bedouins. The different branches of the Djeheyne tribe established here have each their sheikh: they quarrel with each other as often as they might do if encamping in the open country, and observe the same laws in their hostilities and their blood-revenge as the Bedouins. The principal occupation of the Yembawys is trade and navigation. The town possesses about forty or fifty ships, engaged in all branches of the Red Sea trade, and navigated by natives of the town, or slaves. The intercourse between Yembo and Egypt is very frequent. Many Yembawys are settled at Suez and Cosseir, and some at Cairo and Kenne in Upper Egypt, from whence they trade with their native place. Others trade with the Bedouins of the Hedjaz, and on the shores of the Red Sea, as far Moeyleh, and exchange in their encampments the [p.421] provisions brought to Yembo from Egypt, for cattle, butter, and honey, which they sell again at a great profit upon their return to the town. The people of Yembo are less civil, and of more rude and sometimes wild behaviour, than those of Djidda or Mekka, but, on the other hand, their manners are much more orderly, and they are less addicted to vice than the latter, and enjoy, generally, over the Hedjaz, all the advantages of a respectable name. Although there are no individuals of great wealth in the town, every body seems to enjoy more ease and plenty than even at Mekka. Almost all the respectable families of Yembo have a country-house in the fruitful valley called Yembo el Nakhel, or Gara Yembo, or Yembo el Berr, about six or seven hours� distance from. hence, at the foot of the mountains, in a N.E. direction. It is similar to the valleys of Djedeyde [There is a road, of difficult passage, from Yembo el Nakhel to Djedeyde, over the mountains to the north of the great road.] and Szafra, where date-trees grow, and fields are cultivated. It extends about seven hours in length, and contains upwards of a dozen hamlets, scattered on the side of the mountain. The principal of these is Soueyga, the market-place, where the great Sheikh of the Djeheyne resides, who is acknowledged as such by the Bedouins of that tribe, as well as by the people of Yembo. The valley of Yembo is cultivated exclusively by Djeheyne, who have either become settlers, and remain there the whole year, or keep a few labourers in their plantations, while they themselves remain encamped in the mountain, and reside in the valley only at the time of the date- harvest, when all the Yembawys who possess gardens there, likewise repair for a month to the same place. All kinds of fruits are cultivated there, with which the market of Yembo is supplied. The houses, I heard, are built of stone, and of a better appearance than those of Djedeyde. The Yembawys consider this valley as their original place of abode, to which the town and harbour belong as a colony. The Egyptian Hadj route passes by Yembo el Nakhel, from whence it makes one night�s journey to Beder: this caravan, therefore, never touches the [p.422] harbour of Yembo, although many individuals of it, in returning from Mekka, take from Mastoura the road to Yembo, to transact some business in the town, and rejoin the caravan at one day�s journey north of Yembo. The trade of Yembo consists chiefly in provisions: no great warehouses of goods are found here; but, in the shops, some Indian and Egyptian articles of dress are exposed for sale. The ship-owners are not, as at Djidda, merchants, but merely carriers; yet they always invest their profits in some little mercantile speculation. The transport trade to Medina occupies many people, and all the merchants of that town have their agents among the Arabs of Yembo. In time of peace, the caravan for Medina starts every fortnight; lately, from the want of camels, it departed only every month. There are often conveyances by land for Djidda and Mekka, and sometimes for Wodjeh and Moeyleh, the fortified stations of the Egyptian caravan on the Red Sea. The people of Yembo are very daring smugglers, and no ship of theirs enters the harbour without a considerable part of its cargo being sent on shore by stealth, to elude the heavy duties. Parties of twenty or thirty men, well armed, repair to the harbour at night, for this purpose, and if detected, often resist the custom-house officers by open force. The skirts of the town are entirely barren, no trees or verdure are seen, either within or without the walls. Beyond the salt-ground, next to the sea, the plain is covered with sand, and continues so as far as the mountains. To the N.E. is seen a high mountain, from whence the great chain takes a more western course towards Beder. I believe this to be the mountain of Redoua, which the Arabian geographers often mention. Samhoudy places it at one day�s journey from Yembo, and four days from Medina. About one hour to the east of the town is a cluster of wells of sweet water, called Aseylya, which are made to irrigate a few melon- fields. Bedouins sometimes encamp there; at this time a corps of Turkish cavalry had pitched their tents near these wells. In the town are several wells of brackish water, but no cisterns. The supply of water for drinking is obtained from some large cisterns, [p.423] at about five minutes� walk from the Medina gate, where the rainwater is collected. Small canals have been dug across the neighbouring plains, to convey the streams of rain-water to these cisterns. They are spacious, well-cased, subterranean reservoirs, and some of them large enough to supply the whole town for several weeks. They are the property of private families, whose ancestors built them, and who sell the water, at certain prices, fixed by the governor, who also exacts a tax from each of them. The water is excellent, much better than that of any other town of the Hedjaz, where the inhabitants are not industrious enough to form similar cisterns. When the winter-rains fail, the inhabitants of Yembo suffer severely, and are obliged to fill their water-skins at the distant wells of Aseylya. Yembo was formerly annexed to the government of the Sherif of Mekka, who ought to have divided the receipts at the custom-house with the Turkish Pasha of Djidda. Ghaleb appropriated it entirely to his own treasury, and kept here a vizier, or governor, with a guard of about fifty or sixty men. He appears to have had little other authority than that of collecting the customs, while the Arabs of the town were left to the government of their own Sheikhs, and enjoyed much greater liberty than the people of Mekka and Djidda. The powerful tribe of Djeheyne was not to be trifled with by the Sherif; and whenever a man of Yembo was unjustly persecuted, he flew to his relations in the Desert, who retorted the oppression upon some of the Sherif�s people or caravans until the matter was compromised. When Saoud, the Wahaby chief, attacked the northern parts of the Hedjaz, his first endeavours were to reduce the two great Bedouin tribes Beni Harb and Beni Djeheyne to submission; which was greatly facilitated by the hatred and animosity that had always existed between those tribes, who were frequently at war with each other. After the Djeheyne had surrendered, and Yembo el Nakhel had received a garrison of Wahaby soldiers, Saoud attacked Yembo, for the first time, in 1802, with a considerable force, which remained encamped before it for several weeks, and repeatedly attempted to carry it by assault. After his retreat, the Yembawys built the new strong wall round [p.424] the town, by order of the Sherif, who made them bear the whole expense of the work. After Sherif Ghaleb himself had submitted to the superior power of Saoud, who took possession of Mekka, Yembo still held out for some months; and it was not till a strong army was preparing to attack it, and the Vizier himself had fled, that the Yembawys sent a messenger to Saoud, and capitulated, adopting at the same time his creed. The Wahabys did not place a garrison in the town; the Sherif continued to keep his governor there: but the Wahaby tax-gatherers came; and the inhabitants, who, except customhouse duties, had never before been subject to any imposts, found the government of the Wahabys press very heavily upon them. In the autumn of 1811, when the Turkish army under Tousoun Pasha effected its first landing near the town, the Yembawys were very willing to shake off the government both of the Sherif and the Wahabys; and the officers of Ghaleb and Saoud then in the town fled, and, after a trifling show of resistance, the two first days, by Ghaleb�s commander, who had but a few soldiers with him, and who soon saw that the spirit of the inhabitants was wholly against fighting, the town opened its gates, and experienced some slight injuries from the disorderly Turkish soldiers. Since that time Yembo has been garrisoned by them, and was made the commissariat depot of the Turkish army employed against the enemy in the neighbourhood of Medina. The soldiers, being at a distance from the Pasha, or his son, behaved with much more irregularity than they dared to do either at Djidda or Mekka. Every Bimbashy, or commander of a company, who landed here with his soldiers, assumed, during his stay, the government of the town; while the real governor, Selym Aga, who had but a few soldiers under him, was often reduced to a mere cipher. Several affrays happened during my stay, and the inhabitants were extremely exasperated. A Turkish officer shot, with his pistol, in the open street in mid-day, a young Arab, to whom he had for some time been making infamous proposals; he committed this murder with the greatest composure, in revenge for his refusal, and then took refuge in the quarters of a Bimbashy, whose soldiers were called out [p.425] to defend him against the fury of the populace. The relations of the Arab hastened to Medina to ask the life of the aggressor from Mohammed Aly Pasha; I left Yembo before the affair was settled. The Yembawys are all armed, although they seldom appear so in public, and they carry usually a heavy bludgeon in their hand. A few of them keep horses; the Djeheyne established at Yembo el Nakhel have good breeds of Nedjed horses, though in small numbers. Asses are kept by every family, to bring water to the town. The want of servants and day- labourers is felt here still more than in the other towns of the Hedjaz. No Yembawy will engage in any menial labour, if he has the smallest chance of providing for his existence by other means. Egyptian peasants, left on this coast after their pilgrimage, and obliged to earn money for their passage home, engage themselves as porters and labourers, bring wood, water, &c. I have seen a piastre and a half paid to a man for carrying a load the distance of five hundred yards from the shore to a house. Yembo is the cheapest place in the Hedjaz with regard to provisions; and as it possesses good water, and appears to be in a much more healthy situation than Djidda, a residence in it might be tolerable, were it not for the incredible quantity of flies that haunt this coast. No person walks out without a straw fan in his hand to drive off these vermin; and it is utterly impossible to eat, without swallowing some of them, which enter the mouth the moment it is opened. Clouds of them are seen passing over the town; they settle even upon the ships that sail out of the harbour, and remain on board during the whole voyage. [p.426]FROM YEMBO TO CAIRO. I EMBARKED at Yembo on the morning of the 15th of May, in an open sambouk, or large boat, bound to Cosseir, there to load with corn; the Reys or master was the son of the owner, a native of Yembo. I had agreed for my own and my slave�s passage from hence to Cosseir at five dollars, two dollars being the usual charge paid by hadjys, and one dollar by poor people and servants. The government allowed the ship-owners only half a dollar per head for the transport of soldiers. As the partner of the commander of Yembo had a share in this boat, it was allowed to proceed without soldiers, and the Reys had told me that there were only a dozen Arab passengers on board. In making me pay two dollars more than the usual fare, he had agreed to let me have a small place behind the steerage to myself. When I came on board, however, I found that I had been deceived; above thirty passengers, principally Syrians and Egyptians, were crowded together in the boat, with about ten sailors. The Reys, his younger brother, the pilot, and the steward, had established themselves in the place behind the helm for which I had agreed. To revisit Yembo, the abode of death, was not advisable; and as I saw no appearance of plague on board, I submitted to my lot without any unavailing dispute. We immediately set sail, keeping close in shore. In the evening I saw that my situation was much worse than I had suspected it to be when I came on board; in the hold were lying half a dozen [p.427] sick people, two of whom were in a violent delirium; the Reys�s young brother, who had his seat close to me, was paid to attend the sick; one of them died on the following day, and the body was thrown overboard. Little doubt remained of the plague being actually in the ship, though the sailors insisted that it was a different malady. On the third day, the boy, the Reys�s brother, felt great pains in his head, and, struck with the idea of the plague, he insisted on being set on shore. We were then in a small bay; the Reys yielded to his entreaties, and agreed with a Bedouin on shore to carry him back on his camel to Yembo. He was landed, and I am ignorant of his fate. The only precaution I could take against infection, was to place my baggage round me, so as to form an insulated spot in which I had just room enough to sit at my ease; but notwithstanding this, I was compelled to come in contact every moment with the ship�s company. Very luckily the disease did not spread; we had only another death, on the fifth day from our departure, though several of the passengers were seized with the malady, which I cannot possibly affirm to have been the plague, as I did not examine the corpses, but every thing led me to that belief. The continual sea- sickness and vomiting of the passengers were, perhaps, to them a salutary operation of nature. As to myself, I was in a very low state of health the whole of the voyage, and frequently tormented with my ague, which was increased by the utter want of comforts on board. I had taken a disgust to all food, excepting broths: whenever we entered a port, I bought a sheep of the Bedouins, in order to have a dish of soup; and by distributing the meat among the ship�s people, I obtained their good- will, so that in every instance I was well treated by them; and could command their assistance whenever I stood in need of it, either to raise a temporary awning every morning, or to fill my water-skins on shore. The navigation is here the same as what I have already described in my voyage from Sowakin to Djidda. We went into a harbour every evening, never sailing during the night, and started again at day-break. If it was known that no small creek or harbour lay before us, near enough to be reached before sun-set with the then existing wind, we sometimes stopped at an anchoring-place soon after mid-day. Unfortunately, [p.428] the ship�s boat had been carried away by a heavy sea, in a preceding voyage; we therefore could seldom get on shore, excepting at places where we found other vessels, whose boats we took, as we usually anchored in deep water. The sailors showed as great cowardice here, as those of Sowakin on a former occasion. Whenever it blew fresh, the sails were taken in; the dread of a storm made them take shelter in a harbour, and we never made longer courses than from twenty-five to thirty-five miles per day. A large square cask of water was the only one on board, and contained a supply for three days for the ship�s crew only. The passengers had each his own water-skin; and whenever we reached a watering-place, the Bedouins came to the beach, and sold us the contents of their full skins. As it sometimes happens that the ships are becalmed in a bay distant from any wells, or prevented from quitting it by adverse winds, the crew is exposed to great sufferings from thirst, for they have never more on board their boats than a supply for three or four days. For the first three days we steered along a sandy shore, here entirely barren and uninhabited, the mountains continuing at a distance inland. At three days� journey by land and by sea from Yembo, as it is generally computed, lies the mountain called Djebel Hassány, reaching close to the shore; and from thence northward the lower range of the mountains are, in the vicinity of the beach, thinly inhabited throughout by Bedouins. The encampments of the tribe of Djeheyne extend as far as these mountains: to the north of it, as far as the station of the Hadj called El Wodjeh, or as it is also pronounced, El Wosh, are the dwelling-places of the Heteym Bedouins. In front of Djebel Hassány are several islands; and the sea is here particularly full of shoals and coral rocks, rising nearly to the surface; from the various colours of which, the water, when viewed from a distance, assumes all the hues of the rainbow. In spring, after the rains, some of these little islands are inhabited by the Bedouins of the coast, who there pasture their cattle as long as food is found: they have small boats, and are all active fishers. They salt the fish, and either carry it in their own boats to Yembo and Cosseir, or sell it to the ships which pass. One of these islands, called El Harra, belongs to [p.429] the Beni Abs, once a powerful Bedouin tribe, but now reduced to a few families, who live mixed with the Beni Heteym, and, like them, are held in great disrepute by all their neighbours. Upon another island stands the tomb of a saint, called Sheikh Hassan el Merábet, with a few low buildings and huts round it, where a Bedouin family of the Heteym tribe is stationary, to whom the guardianship of the tomb belongs. The course of the Arab ships being usually close by this island, the crews often despatch a boat with a few measures of corn to those people, or some butter, biscuits, and coffee-beans, because they consider Sheikh Hassan to be the patron of these seas. When we sailed by, our Reys made a large loaf of bread, which he baked in ashes, and distributed a morsel of it to every person on board, who eat it in honour of the saint, after which we were treated by him with a cup of coffee. In general, the Arab sailors are very superstitious; they hold certain passages in great horror; not because they are more dangerous than others, but because they believe that evil spirits dwell among the coral rocks, and might possibly attract the ship towards the shoal, and cause her to founder. For the same reason they observe the constant practice of throwing, at every meal, a handful of dressed victuals into the sea, before they sit down themselves to the repast; saying that the inhabitants of the sea must also have their morsel, otherwise they will impede the vessel�s course. Our Reys once forgot this tribute; but on recollecting it, he ordered a fresh loaf to be baked, and threw it into the sea. We met every day, during this voyage, ships coming from Egypt, and often lay in the same bay with three or four of them, in the evening. On such occasions quarrels frequently happen about water; and ships are often obliged to wait one or two days before the Bedouins bring a sufficient supply down to the coast. Butter, milk, honey, sheep, goats, salt fish, firewood, thin branches of the shrub Arak, of which the Arabians make their tooth-brushes, and which the Bedouins collect on this coast, are every where to be had in plenty, and are generally exchanged for corn or tobacco. These Bedouins are daring robbers, and often swim to the ships during the night, to watch for the opportunity [p.430] of pilfering. The water on the whole coast is bad, except at Wodjeh and at Dhoba. Wodjeh, which is usually reckoned at three days� journey northward from Djebel Hassány, is a castle on the Hadj route, about three miles inland. Close by it is excellent spring water; and there are likewise copious wells of tolerable water in the vicinity of the small bay which serves as a harbour to the castle, and is therefore called Mersa el Wodjeh. Some Moggrebyn soldiers garrison the castle, which was said to be well stocked with provisions. Several of them were married to Bedouin women, and carried on a trifling trade in provisions with the ships that pass. The neighbouring mountains of Wodjeh are inhabited by the Bedouin tribe of Bily. To the north of Wodjeh, and about two days� journey south of Moeyleh, lies the anchorage of Dhoba, renowned for its excellent wells. The anchoring-place is in a large bay, one of the best harbours on this coast, and the wells are about half an hour�s distance inland, under a grove of palm and Doum date-trees. The route of the Egyptian Hadj passes here; and for its convenience, a birket, or reservoir, has been constructed. The ships that sail from Cosseir to Yembo generally make this point, and continue from thence their coasting voyage southwards. North of Dhoba two days, lies the castle and small village of Moeyleh, in the territory of the Howeytat and Omran Bedouins. We passed it at a distance; but I could see considerable plantations of date-trees near the shore. What is called the castle, appears to be a square building, upon the plain close by the water-side. The position of Moeyleh is distinguishable from afar by the high mountain just behind it; three pointed summits of which, overtopping the rest, are visible sixty to eighty miles off: I was told that in clear winter days they could be distinguished, from Cosseir, at the moment of sun-rise. Moeyleh is the principal position on this coast from Akaba down to Yembo. Its inhabitants, who are for the greater part Bedouins, become settlers, carry on a trade in cattle and fish with Tor and Yembo, and their market is visited by numerous Bedouins of the interior of the country. It is the only place on this coast where a regular market is kept, and where provisions are always to be found, and thus often affords timely relief to ships detained on their [p.431] passage by contrary winds. Provisions being very dear in the Hedjaz, and very cheap in Egypt, ships, on leaving the Hedjaz harbours for Cosseir or Suez, never lay in more than is absolutely necessary; but the passage, which is usually calculated by them at twenty days, very often lasts a month, and sometimes even two months. From off Moeyleh, the point of the peninsula of Sinai, called Ras Abou Mohammed, is clearly distinguished. Ships bound from Yembo to Cosseir generally make this promontory, or one of the islands lying before it, and thence steer south to Cosseir. They do this, in order to take advantage of the northerly winds that blow in these parts of the Red Sea for nine months of the year; and they prefer the tedious, but safer mode of a coasting voyage, during which they often enjoy a land-breeze, to the danger and fatigue of beating up, in open sea, against the wind, or of standing straight across from Djidda or Yembo to the African coast; with the harbours of which, south of Cosseir, very few Red Sea pilots are acquainted, and of the Bedouin inhabitants of which they all entertain great fears. On reaching Ras Mohammed, they anchor near one of the small islands, or go into the harbour called Sherm, where they wait till a fair wind springs up, which usually carries them to Cosseir in one or two days. As for ourselves, we had not during the whole voyage any sort of disagreeable occurrence, though the wind, which was seldom fair, obliged us once to remain three days at the same anchorage; and I often expected the vessel to be wrecked, on seeing the pilot steer among the shoals in shore: a practice in which these people have acquired great experience, and in which they display as much boldness as they do cowardice in the open sea. After twenty days� voyage we reached the neighbourhood of Ras Abou Mohammed, on the 4th of June: the boat was secured for the night with grapplings to some coral rocks, leeward of a small island ahead of the promontory; the pilot intending to strike across the next morning. As I knew that Bedouins were always to be found in the harbour of Sherm, to transport passengers by land to Tor or Suez, I wished to be set on shore here. The road from hence to Cairo was much shorter [p.432] than by way of Cosseir; and my low state of health rendered it desirable to leave the vessel where I had not the slightest accommodation, and where the fears of the plague had not yet subsided, though no person had died on board during the last fortnight. For the sum of four dollars given to the Reys, and one to the pilot, they were kind enough to go a little out of their course, and on the following morning, the 5th of June, we entered the harbour of Sherm. Sherm is about four or five hours distant from the point called Ras Abou Mohammed, and is a good and spacious harbour, with anchorage for large ships; it lies at the entrance of the gulf of Akaba, and is the best harbour on the west side of that gulf. Under the name Sherm, or Sheroum, (the plural,) are included two harbours half a mile distant from each other, both equally good; but the southern is the most frequented. As a copious well is near, these harbours are often visited by ships coming from and going to the Hedjaz; and passengers who wish to save themselves a voyage up the Gulf of Suez, (which during the prevalence of the northerly winds is often of long duration,) land here, and are carried by the Bedouins upon camels to Tor and Suez. These Bedouins, living up in the mountains, see the ships from afar, and on their arrival hasten to the coast to offer their services. In former times, when the Pashas of Egypt exercised but a nominal power over the neighbouring Bedouins, the Arabs of Tor were much dreaded by the crews of ships; they enforced from them regular tributes whenever they entered their harbours, and conducted themselves in a very oppressive manner. At present, Mohammed Aly, through the means of the commander at Suez, has succeeded in overawing these Bedouins; their conduct is now very friendly, and travelling with them is perfectly safe: but if a ship happens to be wrecked on their coasts, or on the islands near them (no unfrequent occurrence), they still assert their ancient right of plundering the cargo. In the evening a ship came in, laden with soldiers, which left Yembo six days before us; the commander of the soldiers, and four or five of his party, were set on shore, to proceed by land to Cairo, and both vessels continued their voyage the next morning for Cosseir. [p.433] There was no difficulty in obtaining camels; more than thirty were ready to be hired; and we started, on the evening of our arrival, in two parties, the one in advance composed of the soldiers, and the other, at about two hours� distance behind, composed of myself and slave, and two fellow passengers, men of Damascus, who were glad of this opportunity of shortening their journey home. We rode this evening about one hour and a half in a valley, and then rested for the night. On the 6th of June we continued our road in barren valleys, among steep rocks, mostly of granite, till we halted, about noon, under a projecting rock that afforded us some shade. The Bedouins went to fetch water from a place up in the western mountains, called El Hamra, which proved to be of excellent quality. A poor woman with two goats lived in the valley quite alone. Among the Bedouins themselves the most perfect security prevails in this district, which is interrupted only by the scandalous behaviour of the Turkish soldiers who pass this way. I knew these men well from repeated experience, and therefore had declined joining their party. When we continued our route towards evening, we met on the road one of the Bedouin boys who served as camel-drivers to the party before us. His camel, upon which one of the soldiers was mounted, had not been able to keep up with the others, and its rider, furious at this delay, had drawn his sabre, and cut the animal to make it move at a quicker pace: when the boy remonstrated and seized the halter, he also received a cut on the shoulder; and as he persisted in keeping his hold, the ruffian discharged his gun at him; the boy then ran off, and waited for our coming up. At a few miles� distance we heard from afar the soldier�s loud cursing, and found him walking behind the camel. As I expected an affray, I had loaded my gun and pistols. When he saw me riding in front of our people, he immediately ran towards me, and cried out to me in Turkish to descend and to change camels with him. I laughed at him, and told him in Arabic I was no fellah, to be addressed in that manner. In the usual style of those soldiers, who think that every person who is not a soldier must yield to their commands, he then turned towards my slave and ordered him to alight, swearing [p.434] that he would shoot one of us, if we did not obey. On hearing this I took up my gun, and assured him that it was loaded with good powder, and would send a bullet to his heart better than his would to mine. During this altercation his camel had strayed a little into the valley, and fearing for his baggage, he ran after it, and we rode on. Not being able to follow us in the sands, he discharged his gun at me, from a distance, which I immediately answered, and thus the battle ended. Farther on we came up with his companions, who had alighted. I told them, that their friend behind was embarrassed with his camel, upon which they dispatched one of their Bedouins to fetch him, while I myself rode on, and encamped that night in a side valley out of the road, where the Bedouin boy again joined us, not wishing to be seen by the other soldiers. We now conducted our journey in such a manner as not to fall in again with the soldiers; but two days after I met the man again at Tor. The governor of Suez was then there, to whom I might have addressed my complaints: this he was afraid of, and therefore walked up to me with a smiling countenance, and said he hoped that no rancour subsisted between us; that as to the shot he fired, it was merely for the purpose of calling his companions to assist him with his camel. In reply, I assured him that my shot had quite a different object, and that I was sorry it had missed; upon which he laughed and went away. There are not on earth more insolent, haughty, and at the same time vile and cowardly beings than Turkish soldiers: wherever they expect to meet with no resistance, they act in the most overbearing, despotic manner, and think nothing of killing an inoffensive person, in the slightest fit of passion; but when they meet with a firm resistance, or apprehend any bad consequences from their conduct, there is no meanness to which they will not immediately submit. During my journey through Egypt from Cairo to Assouan, the whole of which was performed by land, I had several similar rencontres with soldiers; and I must lay it down as a rule for travellers, constantly to treat these fellows with great hauteur, as the most trifling condescension is attributed by them to fear, and their conduct becomes intolerable. We travelled this day about nine hours. [p.435] June 7th. We continued our course in valleys for about two hours and a half, when we came to a high mountain, where I was obliged to dismount. It was with great difficulty that I could reach the summit, for my strength was exhausted; and I had been shivering with a fever the whole preceding night. It took us about two hours and a half to pass the mountain, and to descend into the valley on the other side. From the top we had a fine view of the Gulf of Akaba. The upper part of this mountain is granite, and its lower ridges grünstein. In the afternoon we issued from this chain into the western plain, which declines slowly towards the sea of Suez, and encamped in it after a ride of about ten hours. June 8th. We reached Tor, in about three hours and a half from our resting-place. Here we found every thing in a great bustle. The lady of Mohammed Aly Pasha, whom I had met with at almost every station on this journey, had arrived here from Yembo a few days before, and, as it blew strong from the north, had come on shore, that she might proceed by land to Suez. The governor of Suez and Mustafa Beg, her own brother, one of the Pasha�s principal officers, had come to meet her, and her tents were pitched close by the little village of Tor. From four to five hundred camels were required to transport her suite and soldiers to Suez, and as that number could not soon be prepared, she had already been waiting here a whole week. I had intended to stop at Tor a few days, merely to recover sufficient strength for my journey to Cairo; but when I learned that the plague was still at Suez, as well as at Cairo, I changed my plan, and determined to wait here some weeks, till the season for the disease should be passed. I soon found, however, that a residence at Tor was not very agreeable. This little village is built in a sandy plain, close to the beach, without any shelter from the sun; a few date-plantations are at some distance behind it. The houses are miserable, and swarms of flies and mosquitoes choke up the avenues of every dwelling. I remained at Tor for the night; and having heard from the Bedouins that at one hour�s distance was another small village, in an elevated situation, with abundance of gardens and excellent water, I resolved to take up my quarters there. [p.436] It is surrounded by a half-ruined wall: the remains of a small castle are seen, said to have been constructed by Sultan Selym I., who fortified all the outposts of his empire. The French intended to rebuild it, but they left Egypt before the work was begun. Two small villages, about a mile distance, on both sides of Tor, are inhabited by Arabs, while in Tor itself none reside but Greeks, consisting of about twenty families, with a priest, who is under the Archbishop of Mount Sinai. They earn their livelihood by selling provisions to the ships that anchor here to take in water, which abounds in wells, and is of a good quality. Provisions are here twice as dear as at Cairo; and the people of Tor have their own small boats, in which they sail to Suez for those provisions. Were it not for the passage of Turkish soldiers, they would be rich, as they live very parsimoniously; but the rapacity of a few of these men often deprives them, in a single day, of the profits they have earned during a whole year. No garrison is kept here by the Pasha. June 9th. In the morning I rode over the ascending plain to the above- mentioned village, which is called El Wady, after having laid in a sufficient stock of provisions at Tor. I easily found a lodging, and was glad to see that my expectations of the site of this village were not disappointed: it consists of about thirty houses, built in gardens, and among date-trees, almost every house having its own little garden. I hired a small half-open building, which I had covered with dateleaves, and enjoyed the immediate vicinity of a shady pleasure-ground, where grew palm, nebek, pomegranate, and apricot trees. A large well, in the midst of them, afforded a supply of excellent water, and I had nothing more to wish for at present. The people of the village, who are for the greater part Bedouins become settlers, could not suspect any motive I might have for residing here, as they saw that I was scarcely able to stand upon my legs: they treated me, in consequence, kindly; and little presents of meat and other provision, which I distributed among them, soon insured their good-will, and I had every reason to be satisfied with their conduct. Thus enjoying complete repose, and the good mountain air of this village, which lies so much higher than Tor, my strength soon returned. [p.437] For the last four years, since I had left the society of my friends Mr. Barker and Mr. Masseyk, and the delightful gardens of Aleppo, I had not found myself so comfortable as I did here; and even the first day that I passed in this retreat produced a visible improvement in my health. As I thought that slight exercise might be useful, I rode over to the Hammám, a warm bath, round the corner of the mountain, situated to the north of Tor, and about half an hour distant from El Wady. Several warm springs issue from the calcareous mountain, the principal of which has a roof built over it, and is visited by all the surrounding Bedouins. Some half-ruined buildings, probably as old as the demolished castle of Tor, offered, in former times, accommodation to the visiters. The water is of a moderate heat, and appears to be strongly impregnated with nitre. Close by the springs are extensive date-plantations. I have never seen a richer and more luxurious growth of palm-trees than in this place; they form so thick a wood, that it is difficult to find one�s way through it. These plantations belong to the Bedouins of the peninsula, who come here with their families at the date-harvest. The largest grove, however, is the property of the Greek priests of Mount Sinai, one of whom lives in an insulated tower in the midst of it, like a hermit, for he is the only constant resident in the place. The fear of the Bedouins keeps him shut up for months in this tower the entrance to which is by a ladder; and a waterman, who provides him every week with a supply of water, is the only individual who approaches him. The priest is placed here as gardener of the convent; but experience shows the inefficacy of all attempts to protect the trees from the pilfering Bedouins, and they have therefore given up the fruit to the first comer: so that this grove, the produce of which often amounts to the value of four or five thousand piastres, becomes public property. I had some difficulty in providing myself with flesh-meat at Wady: sheep are very scarce in the whole peninsula, and no Arab is inclined to sell what he has. A flock had been sent from Suez to Tor, for the supply of Mohammed Aly�s lady and her suite. I was obliged to pay twelve piastres here for a small kid. [p.438] The second week�s residence at El Wady considerably improved my health. I was not thoroughly recovered, but only wished., at present, to acquire sufficient strength for the journey to Cairo, where the means of a complete cure might be found. I was the more inclined to hasten my departure, as it was said that all the Bedouins who had camels to spare, and had not given them up for the transport of the Pasha�s women, were soon to leave this neighbourhood, with loads of coals for Cairo, when I should find it difficult to procure beasts of transport. I had been for eighteen months without any letters from Europe, and felt impatient to reach Cairo, where I knew that many awaited me. I knew too, that the plague would have nearly subsided by the time of my arrival, as about the end of June it always yields to the influence of the hot season. I therefore engaged two camels from hence to Cairo, for which I paid twelve dollars. The Arabs of these parts have established particular transport customs: of those who inhabit this peninsula, the tribe of Sowaleha is entitled to one half of the transport, and the other half is shared by the two tribes of Mezeyne and Aleygat. As I wanted two camels, one was to be furnished to me by a Sowaleha, and the other either by a Mezeyne or Aleygat. If no individuals of those three tribes happen to be present, the business is easily settled with one of them, and the others have no after claim; but if several of them are on the spot, quarrels always arise among them, and he who conducts the traveller is obliged to give to the others a small sum of money, to silence their claims. The same custom or law marks out certain limits, which when the traveller and his guide have once passed, the countrymen of the latter have no more claims for the transport. The limit from Tor, northward, is half way between Tor and Wady. The Bedouin who had carried me from Tor to Wady passed this limit by stealth, none of his friends knowing of it: they pursued when they saw us on the road; but we had passed the limits before they came up with us, and I had thus fallen to the lot of this guide; when, on inquiring at Wady for a new guide to Cairo, I was told that no person could take the transport upon himself, without the knowledge or permission of the Bedouin [p.439] who had brought me to Wady from Tor, and upon whose camel I had once crossed the limits. The man was therefore sent for, and as his own camels were not present, he ceded his right to another for two dollars; and with the latter I departed. These quarrels about transport are very curious, and sometimes very intricate to decide: in the mean while the traveller remains completely passive, but there is not much danger of imposition, for the amount of the hire is always publicly known, and one dollar is the largest sum he can lose. I left Wady on the 17th of June. Our road lay upon an elevated plain, bounded on the east by the high summits of the Sinai mountains, and on the west by a low ridge of calcareous hills, which separate the plain from the sea, and run parallel with it for about five or six hours. This plain, which is completely barren, and of a gravelly soil, is called El Kaa, and is in bad repute with the Bedouins, from having no springs, and being extremely hot, from the nature of its position. Thus I found it myself. During this day we suffered much from one of the hottest winds I ever remember to have experienced. We alighted during the mid-day hours in the open plain, without finding any tree to afford shade. A Bedouin cloak, fastened to four poles, was erected as a tent, barely sheltering me from the sun, while my two guides and my slave wrapped themselves in their mantles, and lay down and slept in the sun. Instead of causing perspiration, the hot air of the Semoum chokes up every pore; and in the evening I again had the ague, which continued from hence, in irregular fits, till I arrived at Cairo. We encamped this night in El Kaa. June 18th. We entered, in the morning, Wady Feiran, followed it down towards the sea, and then continued along shore for the rest of the day, till we reached the neighbourhood of the well called El Merkha, in front of the bay which bears the name of Birket Faraoun. June 19th. From Merkha we again proceeded along shore, then entered the Wady Taybe, leaving to our left the mountains, which reach close to the shore, and in the midst of which lies the bath, called Hamam Seydna Mousa. Taybe is a valley full of trees, which were now withered for want of rain. Having reached its top, we [p.440] continued over a high plain, passed Wady Osayt, and slept that night in Wady Gharendel. June 20th. Passing by the brackish spring of Howara, we crossed a barren plain, reached Wady Wardan at mid-day, and encamped in the evening at Wady Seder. Our days� journeys were very long, and we travelled some hours during the night, that we might reach Suez in time to join the caravan, which was preparing there to conduct the Pasha�s women to Cairo. As I shall speak in detail of this road in the journal of my visit to Mount Sinai, I forbear entering here into any particulars: the remarks I now made were, besides, very superficial. June 26th. [sic] In the morning we passed Ayoun Mousa, and reached Suez in the afternoon. The caravan was just preparing to depart, and we started with it in the evening. There was a strong guard, and altogether we had about six hundred camels. We travelled the whole night without interruption, and on the morning of June 22nd alighted at the place called El Hamra, the Hadj station between Cairo and Adjeroud. The ladies of the Pasha had brought two carriages with them from the Hedjaz, in which they had travelled all the way from Tor to Suez, the road being every where of easy passage. Two more carriages were sent for them from Cairo to Suez, one of which, an elegant English barouche, was drawn by four horses: they got into these at Suez, and quitted them occasionally for splendid litters or palanquins, carried by mules. We started again in the evening, and, travelling the whole night, reached Birket el Hadj on the morning of the 23rd, having thus made the whole journey from Tor in six days; a forced march which, from the heat of the season, had fatigued me extremely. At the Birket El Hadj the caravan was met by many grandees from Cairo: the ladies of the Pasha intended to encamp there for a few days among the date-groves. Being unable myself, from weakness, to proceed on the same day, (although Cairo is but four hours distant,) I slept here, and entered the city on the morning of the 24th of June, after an absence from thence of nearly two years and a half. I found that two letters, which I sent [p.441]here from Medina, had not been received, and my acquaintances had supposed me lost. The plague had nearly subsided; some of the Christians had already re-opened their houses; but great gloom seemed to have overspread the town from the mortality that had taken place. The joy I felt at my safe return to Cairo was considerably increased by flattering and encouraging letters from England; but my state of health was too low to admit of fully indulging in the pleasures of success. The physicians of Cairo are of the same set of European quacks so frequently found in other parts of the Levant: they made me swallow pounds of bark, and thus rendered my disease worse; and it was not till two months after that I regained my perfect health at Alexandria, whither I had gone to pay a visit to Colonel Missett, the British resident in Egypt, who had already laid me under so many obligations, and to whose kind attentions, added to regular exercise on horseback, more than to any thing else, I was indebted for my recovery. A delightful journey, in the winter months, through Lower Egypt, and by the Lake Menzaleh, restored me to my wonted strength, which I am happy to say has never since experienced any abatement. [p.443] APPENDIX. [p.445] APPENDIX. No. I. Stations of the Pilgrim Caravan, called the �Hadj el Kebsy,� through the mountainous country between Mekka and Sanaa in Yemen. MEKKA. 1st day. Shedád; some coffee-huts. 2. Kura, a small village on the summit of the mountain so called. 3. Tayf. 4. Abbasa, in the district of the Thekyf Arabs. 5. Melawy Djedára, district of the Beni Sad Arabs. 6. Mekhra, district of the Naszera Arabs. The principal village of the Beni Sad tribe is Lagham, and of the Naszera tribe, Sour; distant one day N. of the farthest limits of Zohran. In this district is also the fortified village of Bedjeyle. 7. Esserrar, of the Thekyf Arabs. 8. Berahrah, on the N. extremity of Zohran, a district inhabited by Arabs of the same name. This Zohran is one of the most fertile countries in the mountainous chain, although its villages are separated from each other by intervals of barren rock. It is inhabited by the Zohran tribes of Beni Malek and Beni Ghamed. The Zohran chief, Bakhroudj, having bravely resisted Mohammed Aly Pasha, was taken by surprise, in March 1815, and cruelly cut to pieces by that Turkish general�s order. 9. Wady Aly, in the same district. 10. Meshnye, on the S. borders of Zohran. 11. Raghdán, a market-place of the Ghamed Arabs. 12. Korn el Maghsal, of the Ghamed Arabs. 13. Al Záhera, of the same Arabs. These two tribes of Zohran and Ghamed possess the Hedjaz (viz. the mountains) and adjoining districts in Tehama, or the Western plain [p.446] towards the sea, as well as the Eastern upper plain. The chief place of the Ghamed tribe is Mokhowa, a town not to be confounded with Mokha. 14. El Roheyta, of the powerful tribe of Shomrán. 15. Adama, of the Shomrán Arabs. 16. Tabala, of the Shomrán Arabs, who extend over both sides of the mountains in the W. and E. plain. 17. El Hasba, market of the Shomrán Arabs. 18. El Asábely, a village of the Asábely tribe. 19. Beni Shefra, a market-place of the tribe so called, formerly united with the Asábelys, but formed by the Wahaby chief into a distinct tribe. 20. Shat Ibn Aryf. 21. Sedouán: this place and Shat Ibn Aryf are inhabited by Arabs of the tribe called Ahl Aryef. 22. El Matsa. 23. Ibn Maan, which with El Matsa belong to the Ibn Katlan Arabs. 24. Ibl, in the territory of the powerful tribe of Asyr. 25. Ibn el Shayr, of the Asyr tribe. 26. Dahban, of the Kahtan Arabs, one of the most powerful tribes of the Eastern Desert. 27. Derb Ibn el Okeyda, a wady inhabited by the Refeydha tribe, who belong to the Asyr. They are strong in horses. 28. Derb Selmán, of the Refeydha tribe. 29. Wakasha, of the Abyda Arabs. In the district of Abyda is the town of Aryn, in a very fertile territory. From Aryn southward the Arabs keep on the mountains a few camels, but many sheep and goats, and are what the Bedouins call Shouáwy, or Ahl Sháh, or Ahl Bul. 30. Wady Yaowd, of the Abyda Arabs. 31. Howd Ibn Zyad, of the Abyda Arabs. 32. Thohran, a district and market-place of the tribe of Wadaa. 33. Keradb, of the Wadaa tribe. 34. Rogháfa, of the Sahhar Arabs. 35. Dohyán, of the Sahhar Arabs. 36. Sada, of the Sahhar tribe. From Sada the caravan, or Hadj el Kebsy, takes its departure; it is so called from the Emir, or chief of the Hadj, who is styled Kebsy. The pilgrims from all the interior parts of Yemen assemble at Sada: it is a large town, but much decayed, famous in Arabia Felix as the birth-place of Yabya Ibn Hosseyn, chief promoter of the sect of Zeyd, which has numerous adherents in that country. Of late a new saint has appeared at Sada; he is called Seyd Ahmed, and is much revered by the Zyoud, or sect of Zeyd, who entitle him Woly, or Saint, even during his life. Sada is governed by Arabs: the Wahaby influence extended thus far. From Sada towards Sanaa the country is inhabited by Arabs, under the dominion of the Imám of Sanaa. 37. Aashemye, of the Sofyan tribe. 38. A market-place, or Souk, of the Bekyl Arabs. [p.447] 39. Another market-place of the same tribe. The Bekyl and Háshed Arabs of this district serve in the army of the Imám of Sana; many of them go to India, and are preferred by the native princes there to any other class of soldiers: Tipoo Saheb had several hundred of them in his service. They generally embark at Shaher, in Hadramaut; and their chief destination at present is Guzerat and Cutch. 40. Ghoulet Adjyb, of the Háshed Arabs. 41. Reyda, of the Omran Arabs. 42. Ayal Soráh, of the Hamdan tribe. 43. Sanaa. From Mekka to Sanaa, forty-three days� very slow travelling: for most of the pilgrims perform the whole journey on foot. No. II. Of the country through which the Kebsy pilgrims travel, and the extraordinary customs of some Arabian tribes. THE route of this pilgrimage lies wholly along the mountains of the Hedjaz and Yemen, having the Eastern plain on one side, and Tehama, or the sea-coast, on the other. The road often leads through difficult passes on the very summit of the mountains. Water abounds, in wells, springs, and rivulets: the entire tract of country is well peopled, although not every where cultivated, enclosed fields and trees being only found in the vicinity of water. There is a village at every station of the Hadj: most of these villages are built of stone, and inhabited by Arab tribes, originally of these mountains, and now spread over the adjoining plains. Some are very considerable tribes, such as Zohran, Ghamed, Shomran, Asyr, and Abyda, of whom each can muster from six to eight thousand firelocks: their principal strength consists in matchlocks. Horses are but few in these mountains; yet the Kahtan, Refeydha, and Abyda tribes, who likewise spread over the plain, possess the good Koheyl breed. This country produces not only enough for the inhabitants, but enables them to export great quantities of coffee- beans, corn, beans, raisins, almonds, dried apricots, &c. It is said that the coffee-tree does not grow northward beyond Meshnye, in the Zohran country; the tree improves in quality southward: the best coffee is produced in the neighbourhood of Sanaa. Grapes abound in these mountains. Raisins constitute a common article of food with the Arabs, and are exported to the towns on the sea-coast, and to Djidda and Mekka, where a kind of wine is made from them, as follows:--The raisins are put into [p.448] earthen jars, which are then filled with water, buried in the ground, and left there for a whole month, during which the fermentation takes place. Most other fruits are cultivated in these mountains, where water is at all times abundant, and the climate temperate. Snow has sometimes fallen, and water been frozen as far as Sada. The Arabs purchase their cotton dresses in the market-places of Tehama, or on the coast: the passing pilgrims sell to them a few drugs, spices, and needles, and proceed on their way in perfect security, at least since the Wahabys have subjugated the whole country, by overpowering, after many sanguinary battles, the hostile Sheikhs, who were forced to pay an annual tribute. Most of the Arab tribes south of Zohran belong to the sect of Zeyd: they live in villages, and are chiefly what the Arabs call Hadhar, or settlers, not Bedouins; but as they keep large herds of cattle, they descend, in time of rain, into the Eastern plain, which affords rich pasturage for cows, camels, and sheep. They procure clothes, drugs, utensils, &c. from the sea-ports of Yemen, where they sell dried fruits, dates, honey, butter, coffee-beans, &c. With the Bedouins of the Eastern plain they exchange durra for cattle. The Spanish dollar is current among them; but in their markets all things are valued by measures of corn. The dress of these Bedouins generally consists in cotton stuffs and leather. Before the Wahabys taught them the true Mohammedan doctrines, they knew nothing more of their religion than the creed, La Illaha ill� Allah, wa Mohammed rasoul Allah, (There is no God but God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God); nor did they ever perform the prescribed rites. The El Merekede, a branch of the great Asyr tribe, indulged in an ancient custom of their forefathers by assigning to the stranger, who alighted at their tents or houses, some female of the family to be his companion during the night, most commonly the host�s own wife; but to this barbarous system of hospitality young virgins were never sacrificed. If the stranger rendered himself agreeable to his fair partner, he was treated next morning with the utmost attention by his host, and furnished, on parting, with provisions sufficient for the remainder of his journey: but if, unfortunately, he did not please the lady, his cloak was found next day to want a piece, cut off by her as a signal of contempt. This circumstance being known, the unlucky traveller was driven away with disgrace by all the women and children of the village or encampment. It was not without much difficulty that the Wahabys forced them to renounce this custom; and as there was a scarcity of rain for two years after, the Merekedes regarded this misfortune as a punishment for having abandoned the laudable rites of hospitality, practised during so many centuries by their ancestors. That this extraordinary custom prevailed in the Merekede tribe, I had often heard during my travels among the Syrian Bedouins, but could not readily believe a report so inconsistent with our established notions of the respect in which female honour is held by the Arabs; but I can no longer entertain a doubt on the subject, having received, both at Mekka and Tayf, from various persons who had actually witnessed the fact, most unequivocal evidence in confirmation of the statement. Before the Wahaby conquest it was a custom among the Asyr Arabs, to take their marriageable daughters, attired in their best clothes, to the public market, and there, walking before them, to cry out, Man yshtery el Aadera? �Who will buy the virgin?� The match, [p.449] sometimes previously settled, was always concluded in the market-place; and no girl was permitted to marry in any other manner. I heard that tigers and wolves abound in these mountains, but that there are not any lions. The Arabs have here a fine breed of mules and asses. No. III. Route from Tayf to Sanaa. This itinerary was communicated to me by a poor man who had travelled with his wife, in 1814, from Sada to Mekka. He was a native of some place near Sanaa; and as the pilgrimage or Hadj el Kebsy had been for some years interrupted, and he could not afford a passage by sea to Djidda, he undertook this route, which is practicable even in these critical times to those who can pass unsuspected in the character of pilgrims. He was every where treated with hospitality. On his arrival at a village he proceeded to the Mesdjed or mosque, and recited some chapter of the Koran: the Arab inhabitants then inquired who he was, and supplied him with plenty of flour, milk, raisins, meat, &c. He was never stopped by robbers until he reached the advanced posts of Mohammed Aly�s Turkish army; there he was plundered by some soldiers of all his provisions. He could not mark exactly each day�s journey, because he loitered about from one settlement to another, waiting often several days that he might have companions on the road. The journey occupied him altogether three months. He supported himself at Mekka by singing, during the night, before the houses of wealthy pilgrims, some verses in honour of the propbet and of the pilgrimage. His route was as follows:-- El Tayf--Beni Sad, Arabs--Naszera, Arabs--Begyle (or Bedjele), a market- place--Rebah, a market-place--El Mandak, in the Zohran country--El Bekaa, in the Zohran country--Raghdan, in the district of the Ghamed Arabs-- Ghamed, Arabs--Sollebat, inhabited by Ghamed Arabs and those called Khotham, a very ancient tribe that flourished in the beginning of Islám-- Shomran, Arabs--Bel Korn--Ibn Dohman, an Arab tribe so called--Ibn el Ahmar, another Arab tribe--Ibn el Asmar, an Arab tribe--The country here is called after the inhabitants, which my informer had not forgotten, although he did not always recollect the names of the villages through which he passed in the districts of each tribe--Asyr; this tribe is now united with the three former under one head--The Asyr chief, El Tamy, proved the steadiest antagonist of Mohammed Aly: his principal residence was the strong castle of El Tor, situated upon a high level surrounded by mountains; he [p.450] had also a smaller castle, called El Tobab, with a town, from four to five days� journey distant from Gonfode on the sea-coast. In the Asyr district, the pilgrim passed the villages called Shekrateyn, Ed-dahye, Shohata, and Ed-djof. So far the road had always been on the very summit of the mountain: the traveller henceforward continuing along the valleys composing the lower chain of hills that intersect the Eastern plain. Refeydha, Arabs--Abyda, Arabs--Harradja, a town in the district of the Senhán Arabs; which also contains the fertile wady called Ráha--Homra, a place inhabited by the Senhan Arabs: at one day�s journey eastward is Wady Nedjran, belonging to the tribe of Yam-Thohran, inhabited by the Wadaa tribe: this place is high in the mountain, but the Wadaa occupy also the low valleys--Bágem, a tribe of Arabs: eastward of them resides the powerful tribe of Kholán Arabs--Dohhyán, of the Sahhar tribe-Sada: from Sada the most usual stages to Sanaa are Beit Medjáhed--Djorf--Kheywan and Houth, two places in the district of the Háshed tribe--Zybein,--Omrán- Sanaa-Seven days from Sada to Sanaa. No. IV. Notices respecting the Country south of Mekka. I HAVE already described the road from Mekka to Tayf. Four hours distant from Tayf, in a S.E. direction, is Lye, a wady with a rivulet, fine gardens, and many houses on the borders of the stream. About two hours S. of Lye, in the mountain, stands the celebrated castle of Byssel, built by the late chief of all the Hedjaz Arabs, Othman el Medhayfe, who was taken prisoner near it in autumn 1812. Here Mohammed Aly Pasha, in January 1815, fought his decisive battle with the united Wababy forces. From Lye the road leads over mountains for about two hours, and then descends into the great Eastern plain, where, at a distance of seven or eight hours from Lye, and twelve from Tayf, lies the small town of Kolákh: here were the head-quarters of the Turkish army for several months in 1814. It is an open place, without trees or enclosures, with many water-pits. It lies from Tayf in the direction of E.S.E. About Lye and Kolákh, live the Arabs of the Ossama tribe, who form part of the great Ateybe tribe. Between Kolákh and Taraba, off the straight road, lies Abyla, once the residence of the great chief Medhayfe. By Kolákh passes the most frequented road from Nedjed to Zohran, and from thence to the sea-ports of Yemen. Continuing over the plain from Kolákh in a more southern direction for about eighteen hours, we come to the town of Taraba, as the people of Tayf and Mekka call it, or Toroba according [p.451] to the Bedouin pronunciation. A soldier who possessed a watch told me that he had counted three hours on the march between Tayf and Taraba. This is a considerable town, as large as Tayf, and remarkable for its plantations, that furnish all the surrounding country with dates; and famous for its resistance against the Turkish forces of Mohammed Aly, until January 1815, when its inhabitants were compelled to submit. Taraba is environed with palm-groves and gardens, watered by numerous rivulets; near it are some inconsiderable hills, at the foot of which the Arabs cultivate durra and barley: the inhabitants are of the Begoum tribe, and their Sheikh is Ibn Korshán. One Ghálye, the widow of a deceased Sheikh, had immortalised her name by devoting her property to the defence of the town, and taking an active part in the council of the chiefs. The country about Taraba, and thence to Kolákh, is inhabited by the Ateybe Arabs, the most numerous of the Hedjaz tribes. The Begoums had enclosed Taraba with a wall, and constructed some towers: at present a Turkish garrison is stationed here, this being a principal position and the grand thoroughfare between Nedjed and Yemen. Pursuing the road from Taraba southwards to the east of the great chain of mountains, over an uneven ground intersected by many wadys, we come, at two days from Taraba, to the town of Ranye, inhabited by the Arab tribe of Sabya, whose Sheikh is Ibn Katnán, a personage distinguished for his bravery in the campaign against the Pasha�s Turkish troops. Three or four days from Ranye is the town of Beishe, the intermediate space being peopled by the Beni Oklob tribe. Beishe, the most important position between Tayf and Sanaa, is a very fertile district, extremely rich in date-trees. The Turkish army of Mohammed Aly, with its followers and allied Bedouins, amounting in all to ten or twelve thousand men, found here sufficient provisions for a fortnight�s halt, and for a supply on their march of several days towards the south. The Arabs entitle Beishe the key of Yemen: it lies on one of the great roads from Nedjed to Yemen; and it was said that heavy-laden camels from Mekka to Yemen could not come by any other way, and that on the sea-shore beyond Beishe is an easy passage westward through the great chain of mountains. At Beishe many battles were fought between Sherif Ghaleb and Saoud the Wahaby general, who being victorious erected two castles in the neighbourhood, and gave them in charge to Ibn Shokbán, whom he also made chief of the Beni Salem tribe, the inhabitants of Beishe, who could furnish from eight to ten thousand matchlocks. Ibn Shokbán afterwards gallantly opposed the Turkish army. I believe that in former times the Sherifs of Mekka possessed at least a nominal authority over all the country, from Tayf to Beishe. In Asamy�s history we find many instances of the Sherifs residing occasionally at Beishe, and having in their army auxiliaries of the Beni Salem tribe. Beishe is a broad valley, from six to eight hours in length, abounding with rivulets, wells, and gardens. The houses here are better than those of Tayf, and irregularly scattered over the whole tract. The principal castle is very strong, with substantial and lofty walls, and surrounded by a ditch. About three or four days� journey to the E. and S.E. of Beishe, the plain is covered with numerous encampments of the Kahtan Arabs, one of the most ancient tribes, that flourished long before Mohammed, in the idolatrous ages. Some of these Beni Kahtan emigrated to Egypt, where the historian Mesoudi knew them as inhabitants of Assouan. The Wahabys found great difficulty in subduing this tribe, which, however, [p.452] subsequently became attached to the conquerors, and still continues so. The Beni Kahtan possess excellent pasturage, and breed many fine horses: the vast number of their camels have become proverbial in Arabia. The tribe is divided into two main branches, Es Saháma, and El Aasy. In December 1814 the Kahans made an incursion towards Djidda, and carried off the whole baggage of some Turkish cavalry, stationed to protect the road between Djidda and Mekka: large parties of them sometimes pasture their cattle in the province of Nedjed. From Beishe to Aryn, in the country of the Abyda Arabs, is a journey of five days, according to the Bedouin mode of travelling, but six or seven days as the Kebsy pilgrims march. Beishe itself is about two days distant from the western mountain. It is a journey of at least four days from Beishe to the district of Zohran: all the Arabs from Taraba to Beishe, and from thence westward, are cultivators or agriculturists; those due south and east, are Bedouins, or wandering Nomades. South-east of Beishe, four or five days, live the Dowáser Arabs during the winter; but in summer they remove to the more fertile pasture-lands of Nedjed, the nearest frontiers of which are only eight days distant. They have no horses, but furnish to the Wahabys in their wars about three thousand camel-riders. The Dowáser are said to be very tall men, and almost black. In former times they used to sell at Mekka ostrich feathers to the northern pilgrims, and many pedlars of Mekka came here in winter to exchange cotton stuffs for those feathers. Adjoining the Dowáser, but I cannot exactly ascertain in what direction, are the Beni Kelb, Bedouins of whom many absurd fables are related in the Hedjaz: thus it is said, the men never speak Arabic, but bark like dogs; a notion, perhaps, arising from the name Kelb, which signifies a dog. Their women, however, it is allowed, can speak Arabic; but the truth is, that the stranger who alights at their tents is entertained by the women, and not by the men. Half way between Wady Dowáser, or the winter pasture-land of the Dowáser tribe, and Sanaa the capital of Yemen, a short day�s journey east of Thohrán, (the territory of the Wadaa Arabs,) and four or five days from the town of Sada, lies the Wady Nedjrán, on the first of the great chain of mountains. It is a fertile valley between inaccessible mountains, in which the passes are so narrow that two camels cannot go abreast. The valley is watered by rivulets, and abounds with date-trees. Here reside the Beni Yam, an ancient tribe, distinguished lately by their opposition to the Wahabys: they consist of settlers and Bedouins; the former being Shyas, or heretics of the Persian sect, followers of Aly, while the Bedouins are mostly Sunne or orthodox Muselmans. The latter are subdivided into the tribes of Okmán and El Marra, weaker than the disciples of Aly, and often at variance with them, although both parties unite whenever Nedjrán is attacked by a foreign enemy. The settlers can muster about fifteen hundred firelocks. They twice repulsed the Wahaby chief Saoud, who had subdued all the other Arab tribes except the Beni Sobh, of the Harb race, in the northern parts of the Hedjaz. The Beni Yam made a kind of treaty with the Wahabys, and were allowed to perform the pilgrimage annually. Some of them visit the tomb of Aly, at Meshehed Aly, but under circumstances of great difficulty; for their lives would pay the forfeit of their religious zeal, should they be detected on the road; and this frequently happens, [p.453] as they are betrayed by their peculiar accent or dialect: one who has performed his devotions at Aly�s tomb is regarded as a saint at Nedjrán. When a man of this Beni Yam tribe undertakes a journey, he sends his wife to the house of a friend, who, it is understood, must in all respects supply the husband�s place during his absence, and restore the lady to him at his return. It may be here remarked, that the name of Nedjran el Yemen is mentioned in the Catechism of the Druses; one of the questions being, �Is Nedjran of Yemen in ruins or not?� The tanneries of Nedjran are famous throughout Arabia. The less mountainous districts mentioned here, south of Mekka, are even in time of peace accessible only to Bedouins, or Bedouin merchants, and have not any regular communication with Mekka by caravans--Taraba excepted, the inhabitants of which carry their dates in monthly caravans to Mekka and Djidda. The people of Nedjed pass continually through this district in search of coffee-beans, and during the Wahaby dominion there was no other intercourse between Yemen and the northern provinces of Arabia. This country seldom enjoys peace, the mountaineers being hostile to the pastoral inhabitants of the low districts, and often at variance among themselves. They are all very warlike, but the Wahabys have succeeded in checking their private feuds. The country from Mekka southwards near the sea-shore, to the west of the chain of mountains, is flat, intersected with hills that gradually disappear as we approach the sea, of which the shore presents a level plain in almost every direction at the distance of several hours. In time of peace the land road is most frequented by caravans, which either proceed along the coast close to the barbour, or by the foot of the mountains. The former way affords but little water. The first inhabited place south of Djidda is Leyth, four days distant, a small harbour, which the people were now deserting through dread of the mountaineers. The inhabitants of Leyth are mostly of the Beni Harb tribe, numerous and powerful in the country between Mekka and Medina. On this coast are many encampments of the Heteym Arabs. From Leyth up the mountains to the district of Zohrán, is a journey of three days and a half: from Leyth to Shagga, a small town, is one day�s journey: from thence to Doga, the same distance. Doga lies near the mountainous region, and is a considerable market-place; but its houses, or rather huts, are constructed only of brush-wood and reeds, not of stone. The inhabitants are mostly Sherifs, connected in kindred with the Sherif families of Mekka, to whom they often granted an asylum in the late civil wars. It is a journey of one day from Doga to Gonfode, the well-known harbour. One day and a half south of Gonfode, is the small harbour of Haly: this was the southern limit of the territory belonging to the Sherif of Mekka, who kept custom-house officers at Gonfode and Haly. The Wahaby chieftain, Othman el Medhayfe, in 1805 (or 1806), took Gonfode from the Sherif, and the whole coast from thence to Djidda fell under the Wahaby dominion. In 1814 the Turkish troops of Mohammed Aly Pasha endeavoured to establish themselves there, but were soon dislodged with considerable loss by Tamy. Gonfode, however, was retaken in 1815 by Mohammed Aly himself, after his return from the expedition against Tamy, the Sheikh of Asyr. The caravan distance from Djidda to Gonfode along the coast is seven days, easy travelling. From Djidda to Leyth, another more eastern road, somewhat mountainous, five [p.454] days� journey, yielding plenty of water: while on the coast road, but one well is found between the two towns. The other road from Mekka to Yemen, close along the western foot of the great mountains, is much frequented in time of peace: there are weekly arrivals of caravans, chiefly from Mokhowa, which is distant fifteen hours from Doga, and one day from the district of Zohrán in the mountains. Mokhowa is a large town, nine days� journey from Mekka, for caravans travelling slowly: it has stone buildings, and is the market where the husbandmen of Zohrán and the neighbouring districts sell the produce of their labour to the merchants of Mokhowa, who send it to Mekka and Djidda. The country about Mokhowa is very fertile, and inhabited by the three tribes of Beni Selym, Beni Seydán, and Beni Aly: the two latter had submitted to the Wahabys, and were commanded by Tamy, the Sheikh of Asyr. There are likewise at Mokhowa many of the Beni Ghamed tribe. In time of peace the intercourse between this town and Mekka is very considerable; perhaps one third of the supplies of Mekka in grain of different kinds come from this place. Between these towns the road lies chiefly through valleys, and crosses but few hills: on it are some villages, of which the huts are inhabited by Bedouins as well as agriculturists. I must here repeat that Mokhowa is not to be confounded with Mokha. The two first days� journeys lie in the territory of the Djebádele tribe, whose boundary on the S. is Wady Lemlem, a fertile valley with springs. Beyond that live the Beni Fahem, an ancient tribe, now much reduced in numbers: they are celebrated throughout the Hedjaz for having retained the purity of their language in a higher degree than other tribes; and those who hear one of their boys speak, will be convinced that they deserve thin praise. The country west of the great mountainous chain down to the sea is called Tehama; an appellation not given, at least in this part of Arabia, to any particular province, but assigned generally to the comparatively low grounds towards the coast; and the Bedouins extend this appellation northwards as far as Yembo. The people of Tehama are poor, those excepted who engage in trade; for the country has few fertile spots, and less pasturage than the mountains, where rain falls more abundantly. In the lower Tehama there are sometimes, during a whole year, but three or four days of rain. The Tehama Bedouins south of Mekka had mostly retired up into the mountains, when Mohammed Aly invaded the Hedjaz, not from dread of the Turks, but because, in such an unsettled state of affairs, weak tribes were not secure, in the open country, from being surprised by straggling Bedouins from the more powerful hostile tribes, who during the power of the Wahabys did not venture to show their enmity, and now impatiently broke loose. Among the Bedouins of Tehama are many tribes of the Beni Heteym, a tribe more widely spread than any other in Arabia. The Great Desert, east of Beishe and Wady Dowáser, and south of the province of Nedjed, extending eastwards to the frontiers of Oman, is called by the Bedouins Roba el Khaly, �the empty or deserted abode.� In summer it is wholly deserted, being without any wells. In winter, after rains, when the sands produce herbage, all the great tribes of the Nedjed, Hedjaz and Yemen pasture their flocks in the parts of this desert bordering respectively on their own countries. The sandy soil is much frequented by ostriches, which [p.455] are killed by the Dowáser Arabs. Several Bedouins assured me, that in the Robá el Khály there are many parts which have never yet been explored; because towards the east it does not, even in winter time, afford the slightest vegetation. The only habitable spot on this dreary expanse of sand is the Wady Djebryn. There the road passes, by which, in winter, the Arabs of Nedjed travel to Hadramaut: it is a low ground with date-trees and wells; but the pestilential climate deters people from residing there. The dates are gathered by the passing travellers. No. V. Stations of the Hadj or Pilgrim Caravan from Cairo to Mekka. THE following account refers to the route of the caravan in 1816; but formerly, as I learn from Arabian authors, the stations differed in many instances. The caravan assembles for several days at a place eastward of the Gardens near Cairo, about one hour distant, called El Hassoua, and then proceeds to Birket el Hadj, four hours distant, where they remain two days. From this place the caravan starts on the 27th of the month Showál: it travels only by night, generally setting out at four o�clock in the afternoon, and alighting soon after sun-rise at the station where they encamp, until evening. From the Birket el Hadj-- 1st night--To Dár el Hamra. 2. To Adjeroud: here they halt the whole day and following night. The caravan is supplied with water from Suez, that which Adjeroud furnishes being extremely bad. 4. To Roos el Nowatyr, a plain in the mountain, without water: here they halt only a few hours, and proceed 5. To Wady Tyh, the entrance to the Desert of Tyh: here they halt a few hours, but, not finding any water, go on 6. To the castle of Nakhel: here they repose, after their forced march, during the whole day and following night, supply themselves with water, and set out next evening. 8. To El Alaya, where they remain one hour, but find no water. 9. To Sath el Akaba, the summit of the western chain of Akaba: here is a small village. The road up and down the mountain is very difficult. From this station they march a whole night, to descend in the narrow passes to the plain and castle of Akaba. 10. Here they remain the day and night. 12. Thaher el Homar, a rocky ground, with bad water and numerous date- trees. [p.456] 13. (Night,) To Shorafa, a barren long extended valley, without water. 14. To Moghayr Shayb: many wells of sweet water, date-plantations, and trees among the rocks, render this one of the most agreeable stations on the route; but it is infested by robbers. 15. To Ayoun el Kassab, a plain ground with date-trees, and water. It belongs to the territory of Moeyleh. 16. To El Moeyleh, where are fine pasture-grounds and good water: here the caravan halts for the night, and remains till the next evening. 18. To Selma, a place yielding water. 19. To Kalat Ezlam. 20. To El Astabel, or Astabel Antar: the only water here is in a few holes dug in the sands of the valley, 21. To Kalat el Wodjeh, where there is good water: they halt this night, and next evening proceed 23. To Akra; a very long march; they arrive at Akra in the evening: here the water is of a most offensive smell. The caravan halts one hour. 24. To El Houra, likewise called Dár el Ashreyn, because it is the twentieth station from Cairo. Between Akra and Houra lies El Hank, a valley without water. At Houra are many trees; also the shrub Arak, of which the pilgrims cut branches, to use as toothbrushes. The water here is bad, and of a strong aperient quality. 25. To Nabt. 26. To El Khedheyra, where the caravan stops one hour in the morning, and marches the rest of the day, the whole night, and next day till evening. 27. To Yembo el Nakhel, where they remain the night, and proceed 29. To Beder: here they remain that day and night; and set out early next morning, and arrive at El Kaa in the afternoon, where they halt till evening, and then proceed 31. To Rábegh. 32. To Djereynát. 33. To Akabet e� Sukar. 34. To Kholeys. 35. To Asfán. 36. To Wady Fatme. 37. To Mekka. Thirty-seven days on the road--thirty-one nights marching--seven days halt. [p.457] No. VI. Geographical Notices of the Country northward and eastward of Medina. THE stations of the caravan between Damascus and Medina are well known. The most interesting spot on this road, within the limits of Arabia, appears to be Hedjer, or, as it is sometimes called, Medayen Saleb, seven days north of Medina. This place, according to many passages of the Koran, (which has a chapter entitled Hedjer,) was inhabited by a gigantic race of men, called Beni Thamoud, whose dwellings were destroyed because they refused to obey the admonitions of the prophet Saleh. In circumference Hedjer extends several miles; the soil is fertile, watered by many wells and a running stream: here are generally large encampments of Bedouins. The Wahaby chief, Saoud, intended to build a town on this spot; his olemas deterred him, by declaring that it would be impious to restore a place that the Almighty had visited with his wrath. An inconsiderable mountain bounds this fertile plain on the west, at about four miles� distance from the ground where the pilgrim caravan usually encamps. In that mountain are large caves or habitations cut out of the rock, with sculptured figures of men and various animals, small pillars on both sides of the entrances, and, if I may believe the testimony of Bedouins, numerous inscriptions over the doors; but I am inclined to think that the Arabs may have mistaken sculptured ornaments for letters. The rock is of a blackish colour, probably volcanic, for there is a lukewarm well in the vicinity. My illness at Medina, and subsequent weakness, prevented me from visiting this spot, from whence I might, in a straight direction, have proceeded to Akaba, on the extremity of the eastern gulf of the Red Sea. The Bedouins call the whole country between Hedye and Oela (a more northern station of the pilgrims) the district of Sheffa. From thence to Akaba el Shám, or the Syrian Akaba, (likewise a Hadj station), the country is called Essafha. It is this Akaba that may be properly described as the boundary of Arabia towards Syria. Here a steep mountain extends for several days� journey westward towards the Red Sea, and eastward towards the interior of the Desert. On the north of that mountain we enter the higher or upper plain, which continues to Damascus. Between the Syrian Akaba and the Egyptian Akaba is another pass through the same mountain, called Báb el Nedjed, or the �Gate of Nedjed,� because here the Bedouins of southern Syria (or, as they are called by the Arabian Bedouins, Ahl el Shemál, �People of the North,�) pass on their way to Nedjed. In those passes the Wahabys, when they make excursions against the Bedouins, leave strong guards, to secure their own retreat. The Hadj route from Medina direct to Syria is not much frequented even in time of [p.458] peace. Sometimes a few Bedouin merchants take camel-loads of coffee-beans by this road to Damascus; but it is infested by strolling parties of the Beni Omran and Howeytat tribes, who live in the western mountain, and frequently descend to rob travellers in the plain. The most frequented route to the north of Medina is towards the country of Kasym, which, as I have already mentioned, supplies Medina in time of peace with all sorts of provisions. The route to Kasym lies between the Hadj route on one side, and the straight road to Derayeh (the Wahaby capital) on the other. The direction of the province of Kasym, as well as of Nedjed, was often pointed out to me at Medina, and I always found. it to be E. ½ N. for Kasym E. by S. for Derayeh bearing from Medina. Between the Hadj road and that to Kasym lies a third route, leading straight from Medina to the province of Djebel Shammar, which in peaceable times is much frequented; but the most common way from Medina to Djebel Shammar is by Kasym, two days longer than the last route, but less fatiguing for camels, because there is abundance of water on this road, and very little on the other. Caravans going from Medina to Kasym visit the following stations: Medina.--At one hour�s walk beyond the gardens (the road passing E. of Djebel Ohod) is an open space called El Areydh, with the tomb of a sheikh, having a cupola over it. Near this is a well, named Byr Rasheyd. 3 hours from thence is El Hafná, with the bed of a torrent. 19 hours. Soweyder. The road from Hafná to this place is rocky, with two ascents, difficult for camels, and wholly without water. Soweyder lies between two mountains, and has some wells of brackish water dug in the ground; also Doum date-trees. The road from Medina to this place is inhabited by Mezeyne (or Omzeyne) Arabs, of the Beni Harb tribe, and by the Heteym and Beni Safar Arabs, also of the same tribe. 4 hours. A valley, with wells and Doum date-trees. 7 hours. Hanakye, in the plain, with many ponds and wells of sweet water dug in the ground. At a certain depth water is always found here. The ruins of an ancient castle, in the Saracen style, are visible; and here date-trees grow. This important position is frequently visited by the Bedouin tribes. 6 hours. Abou Khesheyb. The road from Hanakye to this place is on a sandy plain. Abou Khesheyb lies between two mountains, and affords good well-water. 12 hours. El Heymedj, a station having sweet and saltish water. 8 hours. El Mawát. The road from Heymedj to this place is sandy, with low mountains, no trees; the herb called adjref grows here. The pasture- ground of the Beni Harb tribe extends as far as Heymedj: then begin the pastures of the Meteyr Arabs. El Máwát has the best water on the whole route: it is a sandy spot in an inlet of the mountains. 16 hours. El Badje. The road from Mawát to this place is without water, on a sandy plain, having mountains on both sides: the chain on the left is called Taâye. Badje is an extensive tract, with trees and herbage, and wells both of sweet and brackish water. 3 hours. Neffoud, or, as it is called from the soil, Gherek-ed-Dessem, a plain of deep [p.459] sand, four hours long, after which the road becomes less sandy and difficult, being covered with small stones. 14 hours. Djerdáwye, a plain with wells of good water; from thence in 7 hours, to Dát, the first town of Kasym.--In all, one hundred hours. From Dát to Rass, one of the chief towns of Kasym, is four or five hours. From Rass to a place called Khabara, five hours; and from Khabara to Shebeybe, four hours. According to the night journies of the Bedouins, one hundred hours are equal to ten or eleven marches by day. The journey here detailed was performed by Tousoun Pasha�s army at night. Three days from Medina to Hanakye, and eight days from thence to Dát. A person belonging to the court of Tousoun Pasha measured the distance by his watch. The caravans, loaded with corn, are generally ten or eleven days on the road between Medina and Rass. Kasym, which is the most fertile district in the province of Nedjed, begins at Dát. The name of Nedjed, signifying high or elevated ground, is given to this country in opposition to Tehama or �low lands,� applied to the sea-coast. It seems to be an oblong tract, extending between three and four days� journies from west to east, and two journies in breadth south to north. Within this space are above twenty-six small towns or villages, well peopled, in a cultivated territory, irrigated by water from numerous wells. The chief town is Bereyda, where resides the Sheikh of Kasym, an old man named El Hedjeylan, once an enemy to the Wahabys, now a convert to their doctrine. The neighbourhood of Rass produces the most corn; and that part of Kasym about Dát and Rass lies nearest to Medina. In time of peace, regular caravans arrive every month at Medina from Rass. Tousoun Pasha�s army found plenty of provisions in the few villages of Kasym which they occupied. The most considerable place in Kasym is Aneyzy, said to be equal in size to Siout in Upper Egypt, which contained, according to the French computation, three thousand houses. Aneyzy has bazars, and is inhabited by respectable Arab merchants. Of the other towns and villages, the following are most noted:--Es� Shenáne, Balgha, Heshashye, El Helalye, El Bekeyrye, Batah el Nebhanye, Ashebeybe, Ayoun, Kowár, and Mozneb. Small tribes of the Aenezes, of Ateybe (whose chief seat is on the Hedjaz mountains inhabited by the Beni Harb), of Meteyr, and others, encamp during the whole year among the plains of Kasym, which afford excellent pasturage. Between Kasym and Derayeh, the capital of Nedjed, the intermediate district, mostly a desert, is called El Woshem: from the eastern extremity of the district of Kasym to Derayeh is a distance of five days. The last place in Kasym, on this side, is Mozneb then begins Wady Sarr, a broad sandy valley with pasturage, which continues for several days towards Derayeh through the district of Woshem. Nedjed, near Derayeh, assumes the name of El Aredh, a district once separate from Nedjed, but now considered as belonging to it. El Aredh is less fertile than El Kasym, from which, in fact, it is partly supplied with provisions. Its principal town, Derayeb, has always been a place of note, but much increased since it has become the capital of the Wahaby power and sect. Its direction was often indicated to me; and I found it to bear from Medina E. by S. (variation not computed); the bearing of Kasym from Medina, [p.460] E. ½ N. Derayeh is situated in a valley, the inlets and outlets of which on the N. and S. sides are very narrow, admitting only one camel at a time. The houses (many built of stone) are placed on the declivities of both mountains, the valley itself being throughout very narrow. The town is not walled. The number of inhabitants may be estimated, according to the report of the Bedouins, who state that the town furnished three thousand men armed with firelocks to the Wahaby chief: they are composed of different tribes, principally the Mekren, a branch of the Messalykh, part of the great Aeneze race. All the inhabitants of Nedjed trace their pedigrees to some ancient Bedouin tribe; thus the people of Rass claim descent from the Beni Yam, who now reside at Nedjran, in Yemen. The smaller tribe of Beni Lam (related to those of the same name on the river Tigris, but not, like them, of the sect of Aly), and the small tribe of Essehoun, dwell in the Aredh, and seldom encamp beyond its limits. Derayeh is supplied with water from wells. Ibn Saoud, the late Wahaby chief, discovered a spring behind this house, which he built, and wished to persuade the people that God had inspired him on the occasion. The mansion of the Wahaby chief stands on the mountain, at about ten minutes� walk from the town: it is spacious, but without any splendid apartments: all the married members of the reigning family have their own chambers; and there are many rooms for guests, with whom the house is constantly filled; for all the chiefs of tribes who come to Derayeh on business are invited to the mansion or palace of the great Sheikh. There are not any khans or public inns, so that every stranger quarters himself upon some inhabitant; and the people of Derayeh are proverbially hospitable. The immediate neighbourhood is barren, yielding only some date-trees. Derayeh is supplied with provisions chiefly from Dhoroma, a large and populous village, one day�s journey towards the E. or N.E., which has gardens and orchards well watered from copious wells. From Derayeh to Mekka is a distance of eleven or twelve long caravan days� journies. For three days beyond Derayeh are found cultivated spots and small settlements of Arabs; the rest of the road is through a desert country, as far as Wady Zeyme, two days from Mekka. The distance from Rass (in Kasym) to Mekka is also computed at twelve days� journey. This latter road abounds more with water than the former, and likewise passes by Wady Zeyme. A straight road from Nedjed to the mountains of Hedjaz (I use this word here in the Bedouin sense, meaning the mountains south of Tayf), and to the country of Beishe and Yemen, passes by the village of Derye, on the southern extremity of Nedjed, on the great road from Kasym to Mekka. The road from Derye to Beishe lies four or five days east of Mekka. Between Derye and Taraba (above mentioned) is a pasture-land, with many wells, called El Bakarra, a well-known halting-place of all the Bedouins of these countries. It belongs to the Kereyshát tribe, a branch of the Sabya Arabs inhabiting Ranye. Nedjed is celebrated throughout Arabia for its excellent pastures, which abound even in its deserts after rain: its plains are frequented by innumerable Bedouins, who continue there for most of the year, and purchase corn and barley from the inhabitants. During the rainy season these Bedouins retire towards the interior of the Desert, where they remain until the rain-water collected in the hollow grounds is consumed by their cattle. Previous to the Wahaby establishment, the pasturage of Nedjed belonged exclusively to the Aenezes, [p.461] which I have already mentioned as the largest of all the Bedouin tribes of Arabia. Great numbers of them frequented this territory in spring, and kept off all the other tribes, except the powerful Meteyr, who reside in the Desert between Kasym and Medina. These strengthened their party by an alliance with the Kahtan Arabs, while the Aenezes were assisted by the Beni Shaman. Between these tribes an inveterate hatred subsisted, which every spring was the cause of much bloodshed, and checked the commercial intercourse with the Hedjaz; and both parties levied contributions on the settled inhabitants of Nedjed: but this custom has been abolished by the Wahabys, whose chief, instead, receives a regular tribute, and has reconciled the hostile parties, and opened the pastures of Nedjed to any tribes of Wahabys who may choose to frequent them. A Bedouin assured me that twenty encampments of different tribes may now be seen here in the course of one day�s march--such is the security maintained by the Wahaby chief, who is inexorable in the punishment of robbers. The fine pastures of Nedjed have produced an excellent breed of camels, more numerous here than in any other Arabian province of equal extent. The Arabs call this country Om el Bel, or �the mother of camels,� and resort to it from all quarters for the supply of their own herds; and it constantly furnishes not only Hedjaz, but Syria and Yemen, with camels, of which useful creatures an ordinary one is sold for about ten dollars in Nedjed. In this country there is also a most excellent breed of horses, so remarkable that the finest blood Arabs are properly denominated Kheyl Nedjade, or Nedjed horses. But the Wahaby power has caused a diminution of this breed; for many Arabs have sold their best horses in foreign parts, lest they should be forced to attend the Wahaby chief, who, in his wars, frequently required cavalry. Nedjed, however, is often subject to scarcity, caused by the failure of rain, and consequently of herbage: this soon affects the cattle of the Bedouins, who seldom expect, in this country, more than three or four successive years of plenty, although absolute famine does not occur above once in ten, or perhaps fifteen years. It is generally accompanied by epidemical diseases, much like the plague, consisting of violent fevers (but without biles or buboes,) that prove fatal to great numbers. Nedjed is peopled by small tribes of Bedouins, who never leave it, and by settlers intermarried with them, and often travelling as merchants to Damascus, Baghdad, Medina, Mekka, and Yemen: they export camels and woollen cloaks (abbas), of which the best are manufactured at El Hassa; and from Baghdad they receive rice, (the produce of the banks of the Tigris), and articles of dress, especially the keffies, or handkerchiefs, striped green and yellow, of cotton, wool, or silk: these the Bedouins wear over their bonnets. From Mekka they get coffee, drugs, and perfumes, much used among them, particularly the perfume called Arez, which comes from Mokha. In general there is a spirit of commerce very prevalent in Nedjed, where the merchants are wealthy and of better repute for honesty than most of the Eastern traders. The settlers here are armed with matchlocks, and constitute the best portion of the Wababy infantry: they are generally successful against the Bedouins who invade their crops or pastures; and, as saltpetre is found in Nedjed, every family makes its own yearly provision of gunpowder. In Nedjed are many ancient wells, lined with stone, and ascribed by the inhabitants to a primeval race of giants. They are generally from twenty-five to thirty fathoms deep, and [p.462] mostly the property of individuals, who exact a certain contribution from the tribes whose cattle they supply with water. Here likewise are numerous remains of ancient buildings, of very massive structure and large dimensions, but in a state of complete ruin. These are attributed to a primitive (or perhaps a fabulous) tribe of Arabs, the Beni Tamour, of whose supposed works some vestiges are likewise seen in the Syrian deserts eastward of the plains of Hauran. Of all the Bedouin tribes that exist in Arabia, some few families at least may be found in Nedjed, to which refugees fly for security against their enemies. This country, in fact, is not only the seat of the Wahaby government, but seems the most important of the interior districts of Arabia, from its fertility and population, its central position, and facility of intercourse with other provinces. To acquire a perfect knowledge of the Bedouins, it would be necessary to examine them in Nedjed, where their manners continue unaltered by conquest, and retaining all their original purity: nor have they been contaminated by an influx of strangers; for, except the Hadj caravan coming from Baghdad, no foreigners ever pass through Nedjed. For this reason I consider Nedjed and the mountains between Tayf and Sanaa as the most interesting portion of Arabia, affording more objects of inquiry to a traveller than any other part of the peninsula. From Derayeh eastward towards the Persian Gulf, the country is called Zedeyr, as far as the limits of the province of El Hassa, six days distant from Derayeh, of which three days are without water. The district of Hassa (or, as it is sometimes written, El Ahsa) is celebrated for its numerous wells, and extends for about two days� journey parallel with the sea-coast, from which it is distant, inland, fifty or sixty miles. In breadth it is about thirty-five miles. The abundance of water enables the Arabs to cultivate clover, which serves to feed their finest horses. The Wahaby chief sends all his horses to this place every season. The town of El Hassa (built by the Karmates in the tenth century) is populous; in it reside some wealthy merchants. It has walls and towers, and was successfully defended against the Pasha of Baghdad in 1797. It is one of the principal strongholds of the Wahabys; and their chief derives from this fertile district the greater part of his income. The sea-port for El Hassa is Akyr, a small town on the Persian Gulf, much frequented by the Arabs of Maskat and the pirates of the Kowasem (qy. Jowasem) tribe, who inhabit the port of Ras el Kheyme. The woollen cloaks, of abbas, made at El Hassa are in great demand all over Arabia and Mesopotamia: they cost from ten to fifty dollars each. The territory of Hassa contains about twenty villages: the principal Bedouins that inhabit it are the Beni Khaled (a tribe extended over many parts of Arabia), the Bisher Arabs, a tribe of the Benezes, and the El Zab tribe. Here also, as well as in Nedjed, are some of the Beni Hosseyn, a tribe belonging to the Persian sect of Moslims. Between El Hassa and. Basra, water abounds. The road from Derayeh to Baghdad leads through the provinces of Kasym and Djebel Shammar, taking a western direction, because in a direct line no water is found in the Desert. Having reached Kowar, a small town on the frontiers of Kasym, towards Djebel Shammar (eight days from Derayeh), the traveller proceeds one day�s journey to Kahfe, a village within the territory of Djebel Shammar. The road continues two days in the cultivated parts of this province as far as the well of [p.463] Shebeyke, which bounds Shammar on this side. From thence is one day�s journey to Lyne, famous for its numerous and abundant wells, that supplied the whole Wababy army with water: this place is much frequented by the Aeneze Arabs. Between Nedjed and the Euphrates a well in the Desert furnishes sulphur to the powder manufactories of Nedjed. From Lyne three days� journey, in a desert without water, brings the traveller to the well of Shebekka, and from that one day to the town of Meshehd Aly. This is the summer route in winter, when the rain-water is collected in ponds on the way, the Arabs travel from the well of Shebekka by the road called Derb Bereydha, the ancient Hadj route of the Khalifes when they went on pilgrimage. Here are many tanks, cased with stone, constructed by the Khalifes to supply the pilgrims with water; and the road passes straight on from Meshehd Aly towards Djebel Shammar, without touching at Lyne. From Meshehd Aly to Djebel Shammar the distance is reckoned eight days, and the traveller from Baghdad to Nedjed always passes by the tomb of Aly. This route is much frequented, especially by the Ageyl Arabs of Baghdad, of whom many are from Nedjed, which they often visit as pedlars. All the Arabian Bedouins settled in the suburbs of Baghdad are comprised under the name of Ageyl. This was once a powerful tribe, but it has much degenerated. Through the province of Djebel Shammar, or, as it is commonly called, El Djebel, lies also the road from Nedjed to Damascus. It is a mountainous tract to the N.E. of the province of Kasym, bearing from Medina E.N.E. Its inhabitants are the powerful Beni Shammar, a tribe of which some have passed over to Mesopotamia. Their Sheikh, Ibn Aly, is a main supporter of the Wahaby government. They are said to muster seven thousand matchlocks; and, like their neighbours in Nedjed, they cultivate palm-trees by means of water drawn up from wells in leathern buckets by camels. One of the principal towns in Djebel Shammar, is El Mestadjedde: the chief town is said to be El Hayl; and the neat in size, Kofár. From Djebel Shammar to Damascus the road passes by the district El Djof, which is five days distant from it. The road is of deep sand, without any water but what is afforded by the well of Shageyg, four days from Djebel Shammar, and one from Djof. I believe that there is no other station of equal length entirely destitute of water, in any part of Arabia frequented by caravans, like the four days between Djebel and Shageyg. The well of Shageyg belongs to the Aenezy tribe of Rowalla; and whoever wishes to go from Southern Syria to Nedjed, must necessarily pass here. There is not any water from Djof southwards, in a direct line towards Khaibar and Medina; the road is therefore not frequented. Arabs going from Djof to Medina must pass by Shageyg and Shammar and Kasym, taking a circuitous route. My residence at Medina in time of war, when the eastern and northern Bedouins were hostile, and did not come into the town, prevented me from acquiring as much information as if a peaceable intercourse had subsisted. Whenever this is the case, small caravans from Khaibar and Teyme frequently repair to Medina. Khaibar is well known in Arabian history, as the scene of early Muselman wars under Mohammed, Aly, and their successors. It is said to be four or five days (some say only three) from Medina, the road passing between the Hadj route to Damascus and the route to Kasym. The Arabs of Khaibar, in time of [p.464] peace, bring their dates for sale to Medina. They are said to be of a darker complexion than the surrounding Bedouins: this may be caused by the great heat in the low situation of that place. Khaibar is about six hours distant from the Hadj route to Syria, and lies, I believe, in a direction N.E. from Medina. It appears in former times to have formed part of the territory of the Sherif of Mekka. When the Sherif Hassan Abou Nema was installed in 966, (A.H.) his territory, as we learn from Asamy, comprised Mekka, Tayf, Gonfode, Haly, Yembo, Medina, and Khaibar. The present inhabitants of Khaibar are the Wold Aly, a tribe of Aenezes mustering about three hundred horsemen, whose sheikh Aleyda distinguished himself in the Wahaby war. Another branch of the Wold Aly inhabit the deserts near Hauran, south of Damascus. At Khaibar also are encampments of the Oulad Soleyman, a tribe of the Bisher Arabs (likewise of the Aeneze nation); but the Wold Aly possess the ground and the date- plantations. A colony of Jews formerly settled at Khaibar has wholly disappeared. It is commonly believed at Mekka and Djidda, that their descendants still exist there, strictly performing the duties of their religion; but, upon minute inquiry at Medina, I found this notion to be unfounded, nor are there any Jews in the northern parts of the Arabian Desert. The Jews who were formerly settled in Arabia, belonged to the tribe of Beni Koreyta (Caraites). They came to Medina after Nebuchadnezzar had taken Jerusalem; when Kerb Ibn Hassan el Hemyary (one of the Toba kings of Yemen who had possessed themselves of Mekka) made an inroad towards Medina, which he besieged, and on his return from thence carried some of the Beni Koreyta with him to Yemen. These are the first Jews who settled in that country, and their descendants still remain at Szanaa. (See Samhoudy�s History of Medina.) The small town of Teyme is three days from Khaibar, and as many from Hedjer, in an eastern direction. It is inhabited by the Aeneze Arabs, and abounds with dates. It belongs neither to Nedjed nor Kasym, and, like Kbaibar, was an independent Bedouin settlement before the time of the Wahabys. Those small towns in the interior of the Arabian Desert, are like the Oases in the Libyan; and serve as points of intercourse between the Bedouins and the neighbouring cultivated countries. Their Bedouin inhabitants are agriculturists, and mostly petty merchants who sell to their wandering brethren of the Desert the goods which they purchase at the first cost in the Syrian or Arabian towns. Beginning northward with the small town of Deir on the Euphrates, we can trace a line of these oases that form advanced points towards the Desert all the way south as far as Medina. Deir, Sokhne, Tedmor, Djof, Maan, Ola, Khaibar, and Teyme, are all inhabited by Bedouins, who cultivate the soil, and form an intermediate class between Bedouins and peasants. These positions would be highly important to those who might wish to subdue, or at least to check the Bedouins; and they might become of still greater importance, in being rendered the means of inspiring the whole Bedouin nation with more amicable sentiments towards the Syrian and Hedjaz inhabitants. [p.465] No. VII. Postscript to the Description of the Beitullah or Mosque at Mekka--(See p. 161.) THE law forbids that blood should be shed either in the mosque or town of Mekka, or within a small space around it: neither is it lawful there to cut down trees, or to kill game. This privilege of the mosque is generally respected in common cases of delinquency, and many criminals take refuge in the Beitullah accordingly; but it is also frequently violated. I have myself seen Mohammed Aly�s soldiers pursue a deserter, seize and carry him off from the covering of the Kaaba to which he had clung; and the history of Mekka cites numerous examples of men killed in the mosque, among others the Sherif of Mekka, Djazan Ibn Barakat, assassinated while he performed the towaf round the Kaaba. Sanguinary battles (as in A.H. 817.) have even been fought within its sacred precincts, which afford the most open spot in the town for skirmishing. Horsemen have often entered and passed a whole night in it. Therefore we may say that the privilege is generally useless in those cases where it would be most valuable; such as the protection of fugitives from the powerful oppressor. As to the sanctity of the territory, it is but a name, and seems to have been little respected even in the first ages of Islám. The extent of the sacred territory is variously stated by the three historians whose works I possess, and who were themselves Mekkans. The four Imáms or founders of the orthodox sects also disagree upon the subject. At present the privilege of the sacred territory seems almost forgotten; and it has been crossed in every direction by infidel Christians employed in the army of Mohammed Aly or Tousoun Pasha, who, though they have not entered Mekka, have visited Mount Arafat. Contrary to the precepts of Mohammed, wood is now cut in the mountains close behind Mekka, and no one is prevented from shooting in the neighbouring valleys. The plain of Arafat alone is respected, and there the trees are never cut down. The sacred district, or, as it is called, Hedoud el Haram (the limits of the Haram), is at present commonly supposed to be enclosed by those positions where the ihram is assumed on the approach to Mekka: those are, Hadda to the west, Asfan to the north, Wady Mohrem to the east, and Zat Ork to the south. Aly Bey el Abbassi has represented this district, in his map, as a particular province or sacred territory called Belad el Harameyn: but in fact, no such province has ever existed; and the title of Belad el Harameyn is given, not to this sacred space, but to both the territories of Mekka and Medina. [p.466] No. VII Philological Observations. MANY Arabic terms which have become obsolete in other places, and are found only in the good authors, many expressions even of the Koran, no longer used elsewhere, are heard at Mekka in the common conversation of the people, who retain, at least in part, the original language of the Koreysh. Some neighbouring Bedouin tribes, especially those of Fahm and Hodheyl, use a dialect still more pure and free from provincialisms and grammatical errors. I sometimes attended the lectures of a Sheikh in the mosque, who to his own excellent native Arabic had added the result of his studies at Cairo: and I never heard finer Arabic spoken. He prided himself in sounding all the vowels, not only in reading, but even in conversation; and every word he uttered might be noted as of standard purity. It is to their extensive commerce with foreigners that we must ascribe the corruption of the Mekkan dialect when compared with that of the neighbouring Bedouins, though it still serves as a model of softness to the natives of Syria and Egypt. In pronunciation, the Mekkans imitate the Bedouin purity--every letter has its precise and distinct sound: they pronounce [Arabic consonant] like k, and the [Arabic consonant] like a soft g, (as in the word going); although in the public service of the mosque, and in reading the Koran, they express that letter with the guttural aspiration given to it in Syria, and which is therefore regarded as the true pronunciation. The [Arabic consonant] is pronounced djem; but in the mountains to the south, and the interior of Yemen, it is sounded gym, as at Cairo. The guttural pronunciation of the elif [Arabic consonant], often neglected in other places, is here strictly observed. The only fault in the Mekkan pronunciation is, that in common with the Bedouins they sometimes give, in words of two syllables, too great an emphasis to the last: thus they say Zahab, [Arabic] Safar, [Arabic]Lahem, [Arabic] Matar, [Arabic] Saby, [Arabic] and others. The people of Yemen whom I saw at Mekka pronounced and spoke Arabic almost equally well as the Mekkans: those from Szanaa spoke with purity, but a harsh accent; but the Hedjazi, like the Bedouin accent, is as soft as the language will admit. It has been said that the dialects of Arabic differ widely from each other; and Michaelis, one of the most learned orientalists, affirms that the Hedjazi is as different from the Moggrebyn dialect as Latin from Italian; and a noble Sherif traveller makes a strong distinction between Moorish and Arabic, pretending to understand the latter and not the former; and even the accurate and industrious Niebuhr seems to have entertained some erroneous notions on this subject. But my own inquiries have led me to a very different opinion. There certainly exists a great variety of dialects in Arabic; more perhaps than in other languages: but notwithstanding the vast extent of country in which Arabic prevails, from Mogador to Maskat, whoever has learned one dialect will easily understand all the others. In respect to pronunciation, whoever can spell correctly will feel little embarrasment [p.467] from the diversity of sound, and soon become familiar with it. The same sense is often expressed by different terms; but this is applicable rather to substantive nouns than to verbs. Many words are used in one country and not in another: thus bread is called khobs in Syria, and aysh in Egypt; both terms being genuine Arabic, a language rich in synonyms: but the Syrian dialect still retains what has become obsolete in the Egyptian. From the specimen given by Niebuhr of the Egyptian and Hedjazi dialect, I could show, word by word, that there is not one provincialism in the whole. If the Egyptian says okod, and the Arabian edjles, they both use genuine Arabic words to express the same thing, one of which is more common in Arabia, the other in Egypt, when both terms are well understood by all who have mixed in the busy crowd, or have had even an ordinary education. An Englishman is justified in using �steed� for �horse;� thus the Moggrebyn calls a horse owd, the eastern Arab hoszan; but many poets use the word owd, which is at present unknown to the vulgar in Egypt. This variation of terms arose probably from the settlement of different tribes, each having their peculiar vocabulary; for it is known that Feyrouzabády compiled the materials of his celebrated Dictionary (the Kámous) by going from one tribe to another. The Arabs spreading over conquered countries took their idioms with them, but the joint-stock of the language continued known to all who could read or write. Pronunciation may have been affected by the nature of different countries, retaining its softness in the low valleys of Egypt and Mesopotamia, and becoming harsh among the frozen mountains of Barbary and Syria. As far as I know, the greatest difference exists between the Moggrebyns of Marocco, and the Hedjaz Bedouins near Mekka; but their dialects do not differ more from each other than the German of a Suabian peasant does from that of a Saxon. I have heard learned men of Syria express their ignorance of many Bedouin terms used by tribes in the interior of the Desert, especially the Aenezey, who, on the other hand, do not comprehend certain words of the Syrian town-language; but the wants and habits of a Bedouin are so different from those of a town- person, that the one frequently cannot find terms to express the ideas of the other. As to pronunciation, the best is that of the Bedouins of Arabia, of the Mekkans, and people of the Hedjaz; that of Baghdad and of Yemen is next in purity. At Cairo the pronunciation is worse than in any other part of Egypt; after which I should rank the language of the Libyan Arabs, who have a tinge of the Moggrebyn pronunciation mixed with the Egyptian. Then comes the Arabic spoken in the eastern and western plains of Syria, (at Damascus, Aleppo, and on the sea-coast); then the dialect of the Syrian mountaineers, the Druzes, and Christians; next, that of the Barbary coast, of Tripoly, and of Tunis; and lastly, the rough articulation of the Marocco and Fez people, which has a few sounds different from any other, and is subdivided into several dialects. The Arabs, however, of the eastern side of Mount Atlas, at Tafilelt, and Draa, pronounce their Moggrebyn tongue with much less harshness than their western neighbours. But I must acknowledge, that of all Arabic dialects, none appeared to me so disagreeable and so adulterated as that of the young Christian fops of Cairo and Aleppo. [p.468] No. IX. Topographical Notices of the Valley of Mekka and its Mountains; extracted from the History of Azraky, showing the names assigned to every part. [It may be here remarked, that the Bedouins of the present day continue to bestow on the smallest hill, projecting rock, or little plain, a distinct and particular name; which circumstance renders the history of Arabia often obscure, as the names have, in the course of ages, sometimes changed.] THE different mountains forming the southern chain of the valley of Mekka are:--Djebel Fádeh, on the lower part of Djebel Kobeys, nearest to the town--El Khandame, likewise part of Djebel Kobeys--Djebel el Abyadh, called among the Pagan Arabs Mestebzera, belonging also to Djebel Kobeys--Mozazem--Korn Meskale, lower ridge of Shab Aamer--Djebel Benhán, ibid.--Djebel Yakyán, on the side of Shab Aamer--Djebel el Aaredj, near the latter--Djebel el Motabekh, or Shab Aamer; so called because the Toba kings of Yemen, when they invaded Mekka, established here their kitchen-- Shab Abou Dobb--Shab e� Szafa, or Djebel Ráha, Shab Beni Kenáne--Shab el Khor--Shab Athmen. On the northern side are:--El Hazoura; here was formerly the market of Mekka--El Djethme--Zogág el Nár--Beit el Ezlám--Djebel Zerzera, in the Djehelye called El Káym--Djebel Omar, in the Djehelye called Da Aasyr-- Djebel el Adkhar, [El Adkhar is a shrub or plant, mixed by the Mekkans with mortar in the construction of their houses. El Aadhad a thorny tree, common in Arabia.] in the time of the Djehelye called El Mozhebát, or El Aadhad--Djebel el Hazna-Shab Arny--Thenyet Keda Batn Zy Towa--Djebel el Mokta--Fah, a valley beyond the Djidda gate--El Momdera--El Moghesh, from whence was cut the white marble used in the mosque--El Herrowra-- Istár--Mokbaret el Noszára, the burial-ground of the Christians--Djebel el Beroud--Thenyet el Beydha--El Hashás--Da el Medowar--Djebel Moslim--Wády Zy Towa--Thenyet Om el Harth--Djebel Aby el Keyt--Fedj--Shab Ashras--Shab el Motalleb--Zát Khalilyn--Djebel Kabsh--Djebel Rahhá--El Bagheybagha--Djebel Keyd--El Ark--Zát el Hantal--El Akla--Shab el Irnye--El Alká--Shab el Leben --Melhet el Ghoraba--Melhet el Herouth--Kaber el Abd. On the lower side of Mekka are:--Adjyád, or Djyad--Ras el Insán, between the Djebel Kobeys and Adjyád--Shab el Khatem, near Adjyád--Djebel Khalife-- Djebel Oráb--Djebel Omar--Ghadaf--El Mokba--El Lahdje--El Kadfade--Zát el Lahá--Zou Merah--Es Selfeyn--El Dokhádekh--Zou el Shedyd--Zát e� Selym--Adhat el Nabt, so called from some Nabateans who resided there, and were sent by Mawya Ibn Aly Sofyán to make mortar at Mekka--Om Kerdan. On the north side of the Mala are--Djebel Deylamy--Djebel Sheyb--Djebel Habeshy-- [p.469] Shab el Mokbera--Abou Dedjáne--Djebel el Lyám--El Ghoráb--Shab el Akhnes, also called El Khowaredj, or El Gheyshoum--El Káad. On the road towards Mekka are:--El Mofdjer, or El Khoder--Shab Howa--Er Rebáb-Zou el Aráke--El Ambara, in the Djehelye called Semyra--E� Seder. On the road towards Djebel Thor, southward of Mekka, are:--Zát el Lakhob--Zát Ardjá--El Kaflye--Thor--and El Bána. No. X. ADDITIONAL NOTES. Mokhowa, [Arabic] mentioned in pp. 112, 189, &c. must not be confounded with Mokha, [Arabic] on the sea-coast. Mokhowa is a town ten days distant from Mekka at the western foot of the great chain of mountains. The word Hedjer, [Arabic] mentioned in p. 139, is not to be mistaken for Hadjar, a stone: the space of ground is called Hedjer �because it is separated from the Kaaba or Beitullah;�--[Arabic] Page 299--The Beni Amer--The word Amer [Arabic] in this place must not be confounded with Amer [Arabic] another tribe of Harb. The damma [Arabic vowel] in [Arabic] is never pronounced by the Arabians, who say Amr Ibn el Las, ([Arabic]) and not Amrou Ibn el Las, placing the damma [Arabic vowel] merely to distinguish the word from [Arabic] Omar. 
4658	----	Scanned and proofread by William Thierens and Robert Sinton PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A PILGRIMAGE TO AL-MADINAH & MECCAH BY CAPTAIN SIR RICHARD F. BURTON, K.C.M.G., F.R.G.S., &c., &c., &c. EDITED BY HIS WIFE, ISABEL BURTON. �Our notions of Mecca must be drawn from the Arabians; as no unbeliever is permitted to enter the city, our travellers are silent.��Gibbon, chap. 50. MEMORIAL EDITION. IN TWO VOLUMES VOLUME II. [p.xii] [Arabic] Dark and the Desert and Destriers me ken, And the Glaive and the Joust, and Paper and Pen. Al-Mutanabbi PART II. AL-MADINAH. (Continued.) [p.1] A PILGRIMAGE TO AL-MADINAH AND MECCAH. CHAPTER XXI. THE PEOPLE OF AL-MADINAH. AL-MADINAH contains but few families descended from the Prophet�s Auxiliaries. I heard only of four whose genealogy is undoubted. These were,� 1. The Bayt al-Ansari, or descendants of Abu Ayyub, a most noble race whose tree ramifies through a space of fifteen hundred years. They keep the keys of the Kuba Mosque, and are Imams in the Harim, but the family is no longer wealthy or powerful. 2. The Bayt Abu Jud: they supply the Harim with Imams and Mu�ezzins.[FN#l] I was told that there are now but two surviving members of this family, a boy and a girl. 3. The Bayt al-Sha�ab, a numerous race. Some of the members travel professionally, others trade, and others are employed in the Harim. 4. The Bayt al-Karrani, who are mostly engaged in commerce. There is also a race called Al-Nakhawilah,[FN#2] who, [p.2]according to some, are descendants of the Ansar, whilst others derive them from Yazid, the son of Mu�awiyah: the latter opinion is improbable, as the Caliph in question was a mortal foe to Ali�s family, which is inordinately venerated by these people. As far as I could ascertain, they abuse the Shaykhayn (Abu Bakr and Omar): all my informants agreed upon this point, but none could tell me why they neglected to bedevil Osman, the third object of hatred to the Shi�ah persuasion. They are numerous and warlike, yet they are despised by the townspeople, because they openly profess heresy, and are moreover of humble degree. They have their own priests and instructors, although subject to the orthodox Kazi; marry in their own sect, are confined to low offices, such as slaughtering animals, sweeping, and gardening, and are not allowed to enter the Harim during life, or to be carried to it after death. Their corpses are taken down an outer street called the Darb al-Janazah�Road of Biers�to their own cemetery near Al-Bakia. They dress and speak Arabic, like the townspeople; but the Arabs pretend to distinguish them by a peculiar look denoting their degradation: it is doubtless the mistake of effect for cause, about all such �Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast.� number of reports are current about the horrid [p.3]customs of these people, and their community of women[FN#3] with the Persian pilgrims who pass through the town. It need scarcely be said that such tales coming from the mouths of fanatic foes are not to be credited. I regret not having had an opportunity to become intimate with any of the Nakhawilah, from whom curious information might be elicited. Orthodox Moslems do not like to be questioned about such hateful subjects; when I attempted to learn something from one of my acquaintance, Shaykh Ula al-Din, of a Kurd family, settled at Al-Madinah, a man who had travelled over the East, and who spoke five languages to perfection, he coldly replied that he had never consorted with these heretics. Sayyids and Sharifs,[FN#4] the descendants of the Prophet, here abound. The Benu Hosayn of Al-Madinah have their head-quarters at Suwayrkiyah:[FN#5] the former place contains six or seven families; the latter, ninety-three or ninety-four. Anciently they were much more numerous, and such was their power, that for centuries they retained charge of the Prophet�s tomb. They [p.4]subsist principally upon their Amlak, property in land, for which they have title-deeds extending back to Mohammed�s day, and Aukaf, religious bequests; popular rumour accuses them of frequent murders for the sake of succession. At Al-Madinah they live chiefly at the Hosh Ibn Sa�ad, a settlement outside the town and south of the Darb al-Janazah. There is, however, no objection to their dwelling within the walls; and they are taken to the Harim after death, if there be no evil report against the individual. Their burial-place is the Bakia cemetery. The reason of this toleration is, that some are supposed to be Sunni, or orthodox, and even the most heretical keep their �Rafz[FN#6]� (heresy) a profound secret. Most learned Arabs believe that they belong, like the Persians, to the sect of Ali: the truth, however, is so vaguely known, that I could find out none of the peculiarities of their faith, till I met a Shirazi friend at Bombay. The Benu Hosayn are spare dark men of Badawi appearance, and they dress in the old Arab style still affected by the Sharifs,�a Kufiyah (kerchief) on the head,[FN#7] and a Banish, a long and wide-sleeved garment resembling our magicians� gown, thrown over the white cotton Kamis (shirt): in public they always carry swords, even when others leave weapons at home. There are about two hundred families of Sayyid Alawiyah,�descendants of Ali by any of his wives but Fatimah, they bear no distinctive mark in dress or appearance, and are either employed at the [p.5]temple or engage at trade. Of the Khalifiyah, or descendants of Abbas, there is, I am told, but one household, the Bayt Al-Khalifah, who act as Imams in the Harim, and have charge of Hamzah�s tomb. Some declare that there are a few of the Siddikiyah, or descendants from Abu Bakr; others ignore them, and none could give me any information about the Benu Najjar. The rest of the population of Al-Madinah is a motley race composed of offshoots from every nation in Al-Islam. The sanctity of the city attracts strangers, who, purposing to stay but a short time, become residents; after finding some employment, they marry, have families, die, and are buried there with an eye to the spiritual advantages of the place. I was much importuned to stay at Al-Madinah. The only known physician was one Shaykh Abdullah Sahib, an Indian, a learned man, but of so melancholic a temperament, and so ascetic in his habits, that his knowledge was entirely lost to the public. �Why dost thou not,� said my friends, �hire a shop somewhere near the Prophet�s Mosque? There thou wilt eat bread by thy skill, and thy soul will have the blessing of being on holy ground.� Shaykh Nur also opined after a short residence at Al-Madinah that it was bara jannati Shahr, a �very heavenly City,� and little would have induced him to make it his home. The present ruling race at Al-Madinah, in consequence of political vicissitudes, is the �Sufat,[FN#8]� sons of Turkish fathers by Arab mothers. These half-castes are now numerous, and have managed to secure the highest and most lucrative offices. Besides Turks, there are families originally from the Maghrib, Takruris, Egyptians in considerable numbers, settlers from Al-Yaman and other parts of Arabia, Syrians, Kurds, Afghans, Daghistanis from the Caucasus, and a few Jawis�Java Moslems. The Sindis, I was told, reckon about one hundred families, who are exceedingly despised for their [p.6]cowardice and want of manliness, whilst the Baluch and the Afghan are respected. The Indians are not so numerous in proportion here as at Meccah; still Hindustani is by no means uncommonly heard in the streets. They preserve their peculiar costume, the women persisting in showing their faces, and in wearing tight, exceedingly tight, pantaloons. This, together with other reasons, secures for them the contempt of the Arabs. At Al-Madinah they are generally small shopkeepers, especially druggists and sellers of Kumash (cloth), and they form a society of their own. The terrible cases of misery and starvation which so commonly occur among the improvident Indians at Jeddah and Meccah are here rare. The Hanafi school holds the first rank at Al-Madinah, as in most parts of Al-Islam, although many of the citizens, and almost all the Badawin, are Shafe�is. The reader will have remarked with astonishment that at one of the fountain-heads of the faith, there are several races of schismatics, the Benu Hosayn, the Benu Ali, and the Nakhawilah. At the town of Safra there are said to be a number of the Zuyud schismatics,[FN#9] who visit Al-Madinah, and have settled in force at Meccah, and some declare that the Bayazi sect[FN#10] also exists. The citizens of Al-Madinah are a favoured race, although the city is not, like Meccah, the grand mart of the Moslem world or the meeting-place of nations. They pay no taxes, and reject the idea of a �Miri,� or land-cess, with extreme disdain. �Are we, the children of the Prophet,� they exclaim, �to support or to be supported?� The Wahhabis, not understanding the argument, taxed them, [p.7]as was their wont, in specie and in materials, for which reason the very name of those Puritans is an abomination. As has before been shown, all the numerous attendants at the Mosque are paid partly by the Sultan, partly by Aukaf, the rents of houses and lands bequeathed to the shrine, and scattered over every part of the Moslem world. When a Madani is inclined to travel, he applies to the Mudir al-Harim, and receives from him a paper which entitles him to the receipt of a considerable sum at Constantinople. �The �Ikram� (honorarium), as it is called, varies with the rank of the recipient, the citizens being divided into these four orders, viz. First and highest, the Sadat (Sayyids),[FN#11] and Ima[m]s, who are entitled to twelve purses, or about £60. Of these there are said to be three hundred families. The Khanahdan, who keep open house and receive poor strangers gratis. Their Ikram amounts to eight purses, and they number from a hundred to a hundred and fifty families. The Ahali[FN#12] (burghers) or Madani properly speaking, who have homes and families, and were born in Al-Madinah. They claim six purses. The Mujawirin, strangers, as Egyptians or Indians, settled at, though not born in, Al-Madinah. Their honorarium is four purses. The Madani traveller, on arrival at Constantinople, reports his arrival to his Consul, the Wakil al-Haramayn. This �Agent of the two Holy Places� applies to the Nazir al-Aukaf, or �Intendant of Bequests�; the latter, [p.8]after transmitting the demand to the different officers of the treasury, sends the money to the Wakil, who delivers it to the applicant. This gift is sometimes squandered in pleasure, more often profitably invested either in merchandise or in articles of home-use, presents of dress and jewellery for the women, handsome arms, especially pistols and Balas[FN#13] (yataghans), silk tassels, amber pipe-pieces, slippers, and embroidered purses. They are packed up in one or two large Sahharahs, and then commences the labour of returning home gratis. Besides the Ikram, most of the Madani, when upon these begging trips, are received as guests by great men at Constantinople. The citizens whose turn it is not to travel, await the Aukaf and Sadakat (bequests and alms),[FN#14] forwarded every year by the Damascus Caravan; besides which, as has been before explained, the Harim supplies even those not officially employed in it with many perquisites. Without these advantages Al-Madinah would soon be abandoned to cultivators and Badawin. Though commerce is here honourable, as everywhere in the East, business is �slack,[FN#15]� because the higher classes prefer the idleness of administering their landed estates, and being servants to the Mosque. I heard of only four respectable houses, Al-Isawi, Al-Sha�ab, Abd al-Jawwad, and a family from Al-Shark (the Eastern Region).[FN#16] They all deal in grain, cloth, and provisions, and perhaps the richest have a capital of twenty thousand dollars. Caravans in [p.9]the cold weather are constantly passing between Al-Madinah and Egypt, but they are rather bodies of visitors to Constantinople than traders travelling for gain. Corn is brought from Jeddah by land, and imported into Yambu� or via Al-Rais, a port on the Red Sea, one day and a half�s journey from Safra. There is an active provision trade with the neighbouring Badawin, and the Syrian Hajj supplies the citizens with apparel and articles of luxury�tobacco, dried fruits, sweetmeats, knives, and all that is included under the word �notions.� There are few store-keepers, and their dealings are petty, because articles of every kind are brought from Egypt, Syria, and Constantinople. As a general rule, labour is exceedingly expensive,[FN#17] and at the Visitation time a man will demand fifteen or twenty piastres from a stranger for such a trifling job as mending an umbrella. Handicraftsmen and artisans�carpenters, masons, locksmiths, potters, and others�are either slaves or foreigners, mostly Egyptians.[FN#18] This proceeds partly from the pride of the people. They are taught from their childhood that the Madani is a favoured being, to be respected however vile or schismatic; and that the vengeance of Allah will fall upon any one who ventures to abuse, much more to strike him.[FN#19] They receive a stranger at the shop window with the haughtiness of Pashas, and take pains to show him, by words as well as by looks, that they consider themselves as [p.10]�good gentlemen as the king, only not so rich.� Added to this pride are indolence, and the true Arab prejudice, which, even in the present day, prevents a Badawi from marrying the daughter of an artisan. Like Castilians, they consider labour humiliating to any but a slave; nor is this, as a clever French author remarks, by any means an unreasonable idea, since Heaven, to punish man for disobedience, caused him to eat daily bread by the sweat of his brow. Besides, there is degradation, moral and physical, in handiwork compared with the freedom of the Desert. The loom and the file do not conserve courtesy and chivalry like the sword and spear; man �extends his tongue,� to use an Arab phrase, when a cuff and not a stab is to be the consequence of an injurious expression. Even the ruffian becomes polite in California, where his brother-ruffian carries his revolver, and those European nations who were most polished when every gentleman wore a rapier, have become the rudest since Civilisation disarmed them. By the tariff quoted below it will be evident that Al-Madinah is not a cheap place.[FN#20] Yet the citizens, [p.11]despite their being generally in debt, manage to live well. Their cookery, like that of Meccah, has borrowed something from Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Persia, and India: as all Orientals, they are exceedingly fond of clarified butter.[FN#21] [p.12]I have seen the boy Mohammed drink off nearly a tumbler-full, although his friends warned him that it would make him as fat as an elephant. When a man cannot enjoy clarified butter in these countries, it is considered a sign that his stomach is out of order, and all my excuses of a melancholic temperament were required to be in full play to prevent the infliction of fried meat swimming in grease, or that guest-dish,[FN#22] rice saturated with melted�perhaps I should say�rancid butter. The �Samn� of Al-Hijaz, however, is often fresh, being brought in by the Badawin; it has not therefore the foul flavour derived from the old and impregnated skin-bag which distinguishes the �ghi� of India.[FN#23] The house of a Madani in good circumstances is comfortable, for the building is substantial, and the attendance respectable. Black slave-girls here perform the complicated duties of servant-maids in England; they are taught to sew, to cook, and to wash, besides sweeping the house and drawing water for domestic use. Hasinah (the �Charmer,� a decided misnomer) costs from $40 to $50; if she be a mother, her value is less; but neat-handedness, propriety of demeanour, and skill in feminine accomplishments, raise her to $100=£25. A little black boy, perfect in all his points, and tolerably intelligent, costs about a thousand piastres; girls are dearer, and eunuchs fetch double that sum. The older the children become, the [p.13]more their value diminishes; and no one would purchase[,] save under exceptional circumstances, an adult slave, because he is never parted with but for some incurable vice. The Abyssinian, mostly Galla, girls, so much prized because their skins are always cool in the hottest weather, are here rare; they seldom sell for less than £20, and they often fetch £60. I never heard of a Jariyah Bayza, a white slave girl, being in the market at Al-Madinah: in Circassia they fetch from £100 to £400 prime cost, and few men in Al-Hijaz could afford so expensive a luxury. The Bazar at Al-Madinah is poor, and as almost all the slaves are brought from Meccah by the Jallabs, or drivers, after exporting the best to Egypt, the town receives only the refuse.[FN#24] The personal appearance of the Madani makes the stranger wonder how this mongrel population of settlers has acquired a peculiar and almost an Arab physiognomy. They are remarkably fair, the effect of a cold climate; sometimes the cheeks are lighted up with red, and the hair is a dark chestnut�at Al-Madinah I was not stared at as a white man. The cheeks and different parts of the children�s bodies are sometimes marked with Mashali or Tashrih, not the three long stripes of the Meccans,[FN#25] but little scars generally in threes. In some points they approach very near the true Arab type, that is to say, the Badawi of ancient and noble family. The cheek-bones are high and saillant, the eye small, more round than long, [p.14] piercing, fiery, deep-set, and brown rather than black. The head is small, the ears well-cut, the face long and oval, though not unfrequently disfigured by what is popularly called the �lantern-jaw�; the forehead high, bony, broad, and slightly retreating, and the beard and mustachios scanty, consisting of two tufts upon the chin, with, generally speaking, little or no whisker. These are the points of resemblance between the city and the country Arab. The difference is equally remarkable. The temperament of the Madani is not purely nervous, like that of the Badawi, but admits a large admixture of the bilious, and, though rarely, the lymphatic. The cheeks are fuller, the jaws project more than in the pure race, the lips are more fleshy, more sensual and ill-fitting; the features are broader, and the limbs are stouter and more bony. The beard is a little thicker, and the young Arabs of the towns are beginning to imitate the Turks in that abomination to their ancestors�shaving. Personal vanity, always a ruling passion among Orientals, and a hopeless wish to emulate the flowing beards of the Turks and the Persians�perhaps the only nations in the world who ought not to shave the chin�have overruled even the religious objections to such innovation. I was more frequently appealed to at Al-Madinah than anywhere else, for some means of removing the opprobrium �Kusah,� or scant-bearded man. They blacken the beard with gall-nuts, henna, and other preparations, especially the Egyptian mixture, composed of sulphate of iron one part, ammoniure of iron one part, and gall-nuts two parts, infused in eight parts of distilled water. It is a very bad dye. Much refinement of dress is now found at Al-Madinah,�Constantinople, the Paris of the East, supplying it with the newest fashions. Respectable men wear either a Benish or a Jubbah; the latter, as at Meccah, is generally of some light and flashy colour, gamboge, yellow, tender green, or bright pink. [p.15]This is the sign of a �dressy� man. If you have a single coat, it should be of some modest colour, as a dark violet; to appear always in the same tender green, or bright pink, would excite derision. But the Hijazis, poor and rich, always prefer these tulip tints. The proper Badan, or long coat without sleeves, still worn in truly Arab countries, is here confined to the lowest classes. That ugliest of head-dresses, the red Tunisian cap, called �Tarbush,[FN#26]� is much used, only the Arabs have too much regard for their eyes and faces to wear it, as the Turks do, without a turband. It is with regret that one sees the most graceful head-gear imaginable, the Kufiyah and the Aakal, proscribed except amongst the Sharifs and the Badawin. The women dress, like the men, handsomely. Indoors they wear, I am told, a Sudayriyah, or boddice of calico and other stuffs, like the Choli of India, which supports the bosom without the evils of European stays. Over this is a Saub, or white shirt, of the white stuff called Halaili or Burunjuk, with enormous sleeves, and flowing down to the feet; the Sarwal or pantaloons are not wide, like the Egyptians�, but rather tight, approaching to the Indian cut, without its exaggeration.[FN#27] Abroad, they throw over the head a silk or a cotton Milayah, generally chequered white and blue. The Burka (face-veil), all over Al-Hijaz is white, a decided improvement in point of cleanliness upon that of Egypt. Women of all ranks die the soles of the feet and the palms of the hands black; and trace thin lines down the inside of the [p.16]fingers, by first applying a plaster of henna and then a mixture, called �Shadar,� of gall-nuts, alum, and lime. The hair[,] parted in the centre, is plaited into about twenty little twists called Jadilah.[FN#28] Of ornaments, as usual among Orientals, they have a vast variety, ranging from brass and spangles to gold and precious stones; and they delight in strong perfumes, musk, civet, ambergris, attar of rose, oil of jasmine, aloe-wood, and extract of cinnamon. Both sexes wear Constantinople slippers. The women draw on Khuff, inner slippers, of bright yellow leather, serving for socks, and covering the ankle, with Papush of the same material, sometimes lined with velvet and embroidered with a gold sprig under the hollow of the foot. In mourning the men show no difference of dress, like good Moslems, to whom such display of grief is forbidden. But the women, who cannot dissociate the heart and the toilette, evince their sorrow by wearing white clothes and by doffing their ornaments. This is a modern custom: the accurate Burckhardt informs us that in his day the women of Al-Madinah did not wear mourning. The Madani generally appear abroad on foot. Few animals are kept here, on account, I suppose, of the expense of feeding them. The Cavalry are mounted on poor Egyptian nags. The horses generally ridden by rich men are generally Nijdi, costing from $200 to $300. Camels are numerous, but those bred in Al-Hijaz are small, weak, and consequently little prized. Dromedaries of good breed, called Ahrar[FN#29] (the noble) and Namani, from the place of that name, are to be had for any sum between $10 and $400; they are diminutive, but exceedingly swift, surefooted, sagacious, thoroughbred, with eyes like the [p.17]antelope�s, and muzzles that would almost enter a tumbler. Mules are not found at Al-Madinah, although popular prejudice does not now forbid the people to mount them. Asses come from Egypt and Meccah: I am told that some good animals are to be found in the town, and that certain ignoble Badawi clans have a fine breed, but I never saw any. Of beasts intended for food, the sheep is the only common one in this part of Al-Hijaz. There are three distinct breeds. The larger animal comes from Nijd and the Anizah Badawin, who drive a flourishing trade; the smaller is a native of the country. Both are the common Arab species, of a tawny colour, with a long fat tail. Occasionally one meets with what at Aden is called the Berberah sheep, a totally different beast,�white, with a black broad face, a dew-lap, and a short fat tail, that looks as if twisted up into a knot: it was doubtless introduced by the Persians. Cows are rare at Al-Madinah. Beef throughout the East is considered an unwholesome food, and the Badawi will not drink cow�s milk, preferring that of the camel, the ewe, and the goat. The flesh of the latter animal is scarcely ever eaten in the city, except by the poorest classes. The manners of the Madani are graver and somewhat more pompous than those of any Arabs with whom I ever mixed. This they appear to have borrowed from their rulers, the Turks. But their austerity and ceremoniousness are skin-deep. In intimacy or in anger the garb of politeness is thrown off, and the screaming Arab voice, the voluble, copious, and emphatic abuse, and the mania for gesticulation, return in all their deformity. They are great talkers as the following little trait shows. When a man is opposed to more than his match in disputing or bargaining, instead of patiently saying to himself, S�il crache il est mort, he interrupts the adversary with a Sall� ala Mohammed,�Bless the Prophet. Every good Moslem is obliged to obey such requisition by responding, Allahumma [p.18] salli alayh,�O Allah bless him! But the Madani curtails the phrase to �A�n,[FN#30]� supposing it to be an equivalent, and proceeds in his loquacity. Then perhaps the baffled opponent will shout out Wahhid, i.e., �Attest the unity of the Deity�; when, instead of employing the usual religious phrases to assert that dogma, he will briefly ejaculate �Al,� and hurry on with the course of conversation. As it may be supposed, these wars of words frequently end in violent quarrels; for, to do the Madani justice, they are always ready to fight. The desperate old feud between the �Juwwa,� and the �Barra,��the town and the suburbs�has been put down with the greatest difficulty. The boys, indeed, still keep it up, turning out in bodies and making determined onslaughts with sticks and stones.[FN#31] It is not to be believed that in a town garrisoned by Turkish troops, full of travelled traders, and which supports itself by plundering Hajis, the primitive virtues of the Arab could exist. The Meccans, a dark people, say of the Madani, that their hearts are black as their skins are white.[FN#32] This is, of course, exaggerated; but it is not too [p.19] much to assert that pride, pugnacity, a peculiar point of honour and a vindictiveness of wonderful force and patience, are the only characteristic traits of Arab character which the citizens of Al-Madinah habitually display. Here you meet with scant remains of the chivalry of the Desert. A man will abuse his guest, even though he will not dine without him, and would protect him bravely against an enemy. And words often pass lightly between individuals which suffice to cause a blood feud amongst Badawin. The outward appearance of decorum is conspicuous amongst the Madani. There are no places where Corinthians dwell, as at Meccah, Cairo, and Jeddah. Adultery, if detected, would be punished by lapidation according to the rigour of the Koranic law[FN#33]; and simple immorality by religious stripes, or, if of repeated occurrence, by expulsion from the city. But scandals seldom occur, and the women, I am told, behave with great decency.[FN#34] Abroad, they have the usual Moslem [p.20]pleasures of marriage, lyings-in, circumcision feasts, holy isitations, and funerals. At home, they employ themselves with domestic matters, and especially in scolding �Hasinah� and �Za�afaran.� In this occupation they surpass even the notable English housekeeper of the middle orders of society�the latter being confined to �knagging� at her slavey, whereas the Arab lady is allowed an unbounded extent of vocabulary. At Shaykh Hamid�s house, however, I cannot accuse the women of �Swearing into strong shudders The immortal gods who heard them.� They abused the black girls with unction, but without any violent expletives. At Meccah, however, the old lady in whose house I was living would, when excited by the melancholy temperament of her eldest son and his irregular hours of eating, scold him in the grossest terms, not unfrequently ridiculous in the extreme. For instance, one of her assertions was that he�the son�was the offspring of an immoral mother; which assertion, one might suppose, reflected not indirectly upon herself. So in Egypt I have frequently heard a father, when reproving his boy, address him by �O dog, son of a dog!� and �O spawn of an Infidel�of a Jew�of a Christian!� Amongst the men of Al-Madinah I remarked a considerable share of hypocrisy. Their mouths were as full of religious salutations, exclamations, and hackneyed quotations from the Koran, as of indecency and vile abuse�a point in which they resemble the Persians. As before [p.21] observed, they preserve their reputation as the sons of a holy city by praying only in public. At Constantinople they are by no means remarkable for sobriety. Intoxicating liquors, especially Araki, are made in Al-Madinah, only by the Turks: the citizens seldom indulge in this way at home, as detection by smell is imminent among a people of water-bibbers. During the whole time of my stay I had to content myself with a single bottle of Cognac, coloured and scented to resemble medicine. The Madani are, like the Meccans, a curious mixture of generosity and meanness, of profuseness and penuriousness. But the former quality is the result of ostentation, the latter is a characteristic of the Semitic race, long ago made familiar to Europe by the Jew. The citizens will run deeply in debt, expecting a good season of devotees to pay off their liabilities, or relying upon the next begging trip to Turkey; and such a proceeding, contrary to the custom of the Moslem world, is not condemned by public opinion. Above all their qualities, personal conceit is remarkable: they show it in their strut, in their looks, and almost in every word. �I am such an one, the son of such an one,� is a common expletive, especially in times of danger; and this spirit is not wholly to be condemned, as it certainly acts as an incentive to gallant actions. But it often excites them to vie with one another in expensive entertainments and similar vanities. The expression, so offensive to English ears, Inshallah Bukra�Please God, tomorrow�always said about what should be done to-day, is here common as in Egypt or in India. This procrastination belongs more or less to all Orientals. But Arabia especially abounds in the Tawakkal al� Allah, ya Shaykh!�Place thy reliance upon Allah, O Shaykh!�enjoined when a man should depend upon his own exertions. Upon the whole, however, though alive to the infirmities of the Madani character, I thought favourably of it, finding among this people more of the redeeming point, manliness, [p.22]than in most Eastern nations with whom I am acquainted. The Arabs, like the Egyptians, all marry. Yet, as usual, they are hard and facetious upon that ill-treated subject�matrimony. It has exercised the brain of their wits and sages, who have not failed to indite notable things concerning it. Saith �Harikar al-Hakim� [(]Dominie Do-All) to his nephew Nadan (Sir Witless), whom he would dissuade from taking to himself a wife, �Marriage is joy for a month and sorrow for a life, and the paying of settlements and the breaking of back (i.e. under the load of misery), and the listening to a woman's tongue!� And again we have in verse:� �They said �marry!� I replied, �far be it from me To take to my bosom a sackful of snakes. I am free�why then become a slave? May Allah never bless womankind!�� And the following lines are generally quoted, as affording a kind of bird�s-eye view of female existence:� �From 10 (years of age) unto 20, A repose to the eyes of beholders.[FN#35] From 20 unto 30, Still fair and full of flesh. From 30 unto 40, A mother of many boys and girls. From 40 unto 50, An old woman of the deceitful. From 50 unto 60, Slay her with a knife. From 60 unto 70, The curse of Allah upon them, one and all!� Another popular couplet makes a most unsupported assertion:� �They declare womankind to be heaven to man, I say, �Allah, give me Jahannam, and not this heaven.�� Yet the fair sex has the laugh on its side, for these railers at Al-Madinah as at other places, invariably marry. The [p.23]marriage ceremony is tedious and expensive. It begins with a Khitbah or betrothal: the father of the young man repairs to the parent or guardian of the girl, and at the end of his visit exclaims, �The Fatihah! we beg of your kindness your daughter for our son.� Should the other be favourable to the proposal, his reply is, �Welcome and congratulation to you: but we must perform Istikharah[FN#36] (religious lot casting)�; and, when consent is given, both pledge themselves to the agreement by reciting the Fatihah. Then commence negotiations about the Mahr or sum settled upon the bride[FN#37]; and after the smoothing of this difficulty follow feastings of friends and relatives, male and female. The marriage itself is called Akd al-Nikah or Ziwaj. A Walimah or banquet is prepared by the father of the Aris (groom), at his own house, and the Kazi attends to perform the nuptial ceremony, the girl�s consent being obtained through her Wakil, any male relation whom she commissions to act for her. Then, with great pomp and circumstance, the Aris visits his Arusah (bride) at her father�s house; and finally, with a Zuffah or procession and sundry ceremonies at the Harim, she is brought to her new home. Arab funerals are as simple as their marriages are complicated. Neither Naddabah (myriologist or hired keener), nor indeed any female, even a relation, is present at burials as in other parts of the Moslem world,[FN#38] and it is esteemed disgraceful [p.24]for a man to weep aloud. The Prophet, ho doubtless had heard of those pagan mournings, where an effeminate and unlimited display of woe was often terminated by licentious excesses, like the Christian�s half-heathen �wakes,� forbad [a]ught beyond a decent demonstration of grief. And his strong good sense enabled him to see through the vanity of professional mourners. At Al-Madinah the corpse is interred shortly after decease. The bier is carried though the streets at a moderate pace, by friends and relatives,[FN#39] these bringing up the rear. Every man who passes lends his shoulder for a minute, a mark of respect to the dead, and also considered a pious and a prayerful act. Arrived at the Harim, they carry the corpse in visitation to the Prophet�s window, and pray over it at Osman�s niche. Finally, it is interred after the usual Moslem fashion in the cemetery Al-Bakia. Al-Madinah, though pillaged by the Wahhabis, still abounds in books. Near the Harim are two Madrasah or colleges, the Mahmudiyah, so called from Sultan Mahmud, and that of Bashir Agha: both have large stores of theological and other works. I also heard of extensive private collections, particularly of one belonging to the Najib al-Ashraf, or chief of the Sharifs, a certain Mohammed Jamal al-Layl, whose father is well-known in India. Besides which, there is a large Wakf or bequest of books, presented to the Mosque or entailed upon particular families.[FN#40] The celebrated Mohammed Ibn Abdillah al-Sannusi[FN#41] has removed [p.25] his collection, amounting, it is said, to eight thousand volumes, from Al-Madinah to his house in Jabal Kubays at Meccah. The burial-place of the Prophet, therefore, no longer lies open to the charge of utter ignorance brought against it by my predecessor.[FN#42] The people now praise their Olema for learning, and boast a superiority in respect of science over Meccah. Yet many students leave the place for Damascus and Cairo, where the Riwak al-Haramayn (College of the Two Shrines) in the Azhar Mosque University, is always crowded; and though Omar Effendi boasted to me that his city was full of lore, he did not appear the less anxious to attend the lectures of Egyptian professors. But none of my informants claimed for Al-Madinah any facilities of studying other than the purely religious sciences.[FN#43] Philosophy, medicine, arithmetic, mathematics, and algebra cannot be learnt here. I was careful to inquire about the occult sciences, remembering that Paracelsus had travelled in Arabia, and that the Count Cagliostro (Giuseppe Balsamo), who claimed the Meccan Sharif as his father, asserted that about A.D. 1765 he had studied alchemy at Al-Madinah. The only trace I could find was a superficial knowledge of the Magic Mirror. But after denying the Madani the praise of varied learning, it must be owned that their quick observation and retentive memories have stored up for [p.26]them an abundance of superficial knowledge, culled from conversations in the market and in the camp. I found it impossible here to display those feats which in Sind, Southern Persia, Eastern Arabia, and many parts of India, would be looked upon as miraculous. Most probably one of the company had witnessed the performance of some Italian conjuror at Constantinople or Alexandria, and retained a lively recollection of every man�uvre. As linguists they are not equal to the Meccans, who surpass all Orientals excepting only the Armenians; the Madani seldom know Turkish, and more rarely still Persian and Indian. Those only who have studied in Egypt chaunt the Koran well. The citizens speak and pronounce[FN#44] their language purely; they are not equal to the people of the southern Hijaz, still their Arabic is refreshing after the horrors of Cairo and Maskat. The classical Arabic, be it observed, in consequence of an extended empire, soon split up into various dialects, as the Latin under similar circumstances separated into the Neo-Roman patois of Italy, Sicily, Provence, and Languedoc. And though Niebuhr has been deservedly [p.27]censured for comparing the Koranic language to Latin and the vulgar tongue to Italian, still there is a great difference between them, almost every word having undergone some alteration in addition to the manifold changes and simplifications of grammar and syntax. The traveller will hear in every part of Arabia that some distant tribe preserves the linguistic purity of its ancestors, uses final vowels with the noun, and rejects the addition of the pronoun which apocope in the verb now renders necessary.[FN#45] But I greatly doubt the existence of such a race of philologists. In Al-Hijaz, however, it is considered graceful in an old man, especially when conversing publicly, to lean towards classical Arabic. On the contrary, in a youth this would be treated as pedantic affectation, and condemned in some such satiric quotation as �There are two things colder than ice, A young old man, and an old young man.� [FN#1] Ibn Jubayr relates that in his day a descendant of Belal, the original Mu�ezzin of the Prophet, practised his ancestral profession at Al-Madinah. [FN#2] This word is said to be the plural of Nakhwali,�one who cultivates the date tree, a gardener or farmer. No one could tell me whether these heretics had not a peculiar name for themselves. I hazard a conjecture that they may be identical with the Mutawalli (also written Mutawilah, Mutaalis, Metoualis, &c., &c.), the hardy, courageous, and hospitable mountaineers of Syria, and C�lesyria Proper. This race of sectarians, about 35,000 in number, holds to the Imamship or supreme pontificate of Ali and his descendants. They differ, however, in doctrine from the Persians, believing in a transmigration of the soul, which, gradually purified, is at last �orbed into a perfect star.� They are scrupulous of caste, and will not allow a Jew or a Frank to touch a piece of their furniture: yet they erect guest-houses for Infidels. In this they resemble the Shi�ahs, who are far more particular about ceremonial purity than the Sunnis. They use ablutions before each meal, and herein remind us of the Hindus. [FN#3] The communist principles of Mazdak the Persian (sixth century) have given his nation a permanent bad fame in this particular among the Arabs. [FN#4] In Arabia the Sharif is the descendant of Hasan through his two sons, Zaid and Hasan al-Musanna: the Sayyid is the descendant of Hosayn through Zayn al-Abidin, the sole of twelve children who survived the fatal field of Kerbela. The former devotes himself to government and war; the latter, to learning and religion. In Persia and India, the Sharif is the son of a Sayyid woman and a common Moslem. The Sayyid �Nejib al-Taraf� (noble on one side) is the son of a Sayyid father and a common Moslemah. The Sayyid �Nejib al-Tarafayn� (noble on both sides) is one whose parents are both Sayyids. [FN#5] Burckhardt alludes to this settlement when he says, �In the Eastern Desert, at three or four days� journey from Medinah, lives a whole Bedouin tribe, called Beni Aly, who are all of this Persian creed.� I travelled to Suwayrkiyah, and found it inhabited by Benu Hosayn. The Benu Ali are Badawin settled at the Awali, near the Kuba Mosque: they were originally slaves of the great house of Auf, and are still heretical in their opinions. [FN#6] �Refusing, rejecting.� Hence the origin of Rafizi,��a rejector, a heretic.� �Inna rafaznahum,���verily we have rejected them,� (Abu Bakr, Omar, and Osman,) exclaim the Persians, glorying in the opprobrious epithet. [FN#7] Sayyids in Al-Hijaz, as a general rule, do not denote their descent by the green turband. In fact, most of them wear a red Kashmir shawl round the head, when able to afford the luxury. The green turband is an innovation in Al-Islam. In some countries it is confined to the Sayyids; in others it is worn as a mark of distinction by pilgrims. Khudabakhsh, the Indian, at Cairo generally dressed in a tender green suit like a Mantis. [FN#8] Plural of Suftah�a half-caste Turk. [FN#9] Plural of Zaydi. These are well-known schismatics of the Shi�ah persuasion, who abound in Southern Arabia. [FN#10] The Bayazi sect flourishes near Maskat, whose Imam or Prince, it is said, belongs to the heretical persuasion. It rejects Osman, and advocates the superiority of Omar over the other two Caliphs. [FN#11] Sadat is the plural of Sayyid. This word in the Northern Hijaz is applied indifferently to the posterity of Hasan and Hosayn. [FN#12] The plural of Ahl, an inhabitant (of a particular place). The reader will excuse my troubling him with these terms. As they are almost all local in their application, and therefore are not explained in such restricted sense by lexicographers, the specification may not be useless to the Oriental student. [FN#13] The Turkish �yataghan.� It is a long dagger, intended for thrusting rather than cutting, and has a curve, which, methinks, has been wisely copied by the Duke of Orleans, in the bayonet of the Chasseurs de Vincennes. [FN#14] See chapter xvii. [FN#15] Omar Effendi�s brothers, grandsons of the principal Mufti of Al-Madinah, were both shopkeepers, and were always exhorting him to do some useful work, rather than muddle his brains and waste his time on books. [FN#16] See chapter xiv. [FN#17] To a townsman, even during the dead season, the pay of a gardener would be 2 piastres, a carpenter 8 piastres per diem, and a common servant (a Bawwab or porter, for instance), 25 piastres per mensem, or £3 per annum, besides board and dress. Considering the value of money in the country, these are very high rates. [FN#18] Who alone sell milk, curds, or butter. The reason of their monopoly has been given in Chapter xiii. [FN#19] History informs us that the sanctity of their birth-place has not always preserved the people of Al-Madinah. But the memory of their misfortunes is soon washed away by the overwhelming pride of the race. [FN#20] The market is under the charge of an Arab Muhtasib or Bazar-master, who again is subject to the Muhafiz or Pasha governing the place. The following was the current price of provisions at Al-Madinah early in August, 1853: during the Visitation season everything is doubled:� 1 lb. mutton, 2 piastres, (beef is half-price, but seldom eaten; there is no buffalo meat, and only Badawin will touch the camel). A fowl, 5 piastres. Eggs, in summer 8, in winter 4, for the piastre. 1 lb. clarified butter, 4 piastres, (when cheap it falls to 2 1/2 Butter is made at home by those who eat it, and sometimes by the Egyptians for sale). 1 lb. milk, 1 piastre. 1 lb. cheese, 2 piastres, (when cheap it is 1, when dear 3 piastres per lb.) A Wheaten loaf weighing 12 dirhams, 10 parahs. (There are loaves of 24 dirhams, costing 1/2 piastre.) 1 lb. dry biscuits, (imported), 3 piastres. 1 lb. of vegetables, 1/2 piastre. 1 Mudd dates, varies according to quality from 4 piastres to 100. 1 lb. grapes, 1 1/2} piastre. A lime, 1 parah. A pomegranate, from 20 parahs to 1 piastre. A water-melon, from 3 to 6 piastres each. 1 lb. peaches, 2 piastres. 1 lb. coffee, 4 piastres, (the Yamani is the only kind drunk here). 1 lb. tea, 15 piastres, (black tea, imported from India). 1 lb. European loaf-sugar, 6 piastres, (white Egyptian, 5 piastres brown Egyptian, 3 piastres; brown Indian, for cooking and conserves, 3 piastres). 1 lb. spermaceti candles, 7 piastres, (called wax, and imported from Egypt). 1 lb. tallow candles, 3 piastres. 1 Ardeb wheat, 295 piastres. 1 Ardeb onions, 33 piastres, (when cheap 20, when dear 40). 1 Ardeb barley, 120 piastres, (minimum 90, maximum 180). 1 Ardeb rice, Indian, 302 piastres, (it varies from 260 to 350 piastres, according to quality). Durrah or maize is generally given to animals, and is very cheap. Barsim (clover, a bundle of) 3 Wakkiyahs, (36 Dirhams), costs 1 parah. Adas or Lentil is the same price as rice. 1 lb. Latakia tobacco, 16 piastres. 1 lb. Syrian tobacco, 8 piastres. 1 lb. Tumbak (Persian), 6 piastres. 1 lb. olive oil, 6 piastres, (when cheap it is 4). A skin of water, 1/2 piastre. Bag of charcoal, containing 100 Wukkah, 10 piastres. The best kind is made from an Acacia called �Samur.� The Parah (Turkish), Faddah (Egyptian), or Diwani (Hijazi word), is the 40th part of a piastre, or nearly the quarter of a farthing. The piastre is about 2 and two-fifths pence. Throughout Al-Hijaz there is no want of small change, as in Egypt, where the deficiency calls for the attention of the Government. [FN#21] Physiologists have remarked that fat and greasy food, containing a quantity of carbon, is peculiar to cold countries; whereas the inhabitants of the tropics delight in fruits, vegetables, and articles of diet which do not increase caloric. This must be taken cum grano. In Italy, Spain, and Greece, the general use of olive oil begins. In Africa and Asia�especially in the hottest parts�the people habitually eat enough clarified butter to satisfy an Esquimaux. [FN#22] In Persia, you jocosely say to a man, when he is threatened with a sudden inroad of guests, �Go and swamp the rice with Raughan (clarified butter).� [FN#23] Among the Indians, ghi, placed in pots carefully stopped up and kept for years till a hard black mass only remains, is considered a panacea for diseases and wounds. [FN#24] Some of these slaves come from Abyssinia: the greater part are driven from the Galla country, and exported at the harbours of the Somali coast, Berberah, Tajurrah, and Zayla. As many as 2000 slaves from the former place, and 4000 from the latter, are annually shipped off to Mocha, Jeddah, Suez, and Maskat. It is strange that the Imam of the latter place should voluntarily have made a treaty with us for the suppression of this vile trade, and yet should allow so extensive an importation to his dominions. [FN#25] More will be said concerning the origin of this strange custom, when speaking of Meccah and the Meccans. [FN#26] The word Tarbush is a corruption from the Persian Sarpush,��head-covering,� �head-dress.� The Anglo-Saxon further debases it to �Tarbush.� The other name for the Tarbush, �Fez,� denotes the place where the best were made. Some Egyptians distinguish between the two, calling the large high crimson cap �Fez,� the small one �Tarbush.� [FN#27] In India, as in Sind, a lady of fashion will sometimes be occupied a quarter of an hour in persuading her �bloomers� to pass over the region of the ankle. [FN#28] In the plural called Jadail. It is a most becoming head-dress when the hair is thick, and when�which I regret to say is rare in Arabia�the twists are undone for ablution once a day. [FN#29] Plural of �Hurrah,� the free, the noble. [FN#30] See vol. i., p. 436, ante. [FN#31] This appears to be, and to have been, a favourite weapon with the Arabs. At the battle of Ohod, we read that the combatants amused themselves with throwing stones. On our road to Meccah, the Badawi attacked a party of city Arabs, and the fight was determined with these harmless weapons. At Meccah, the men, as well as the boys, use them with as much skill as the Somalis at Aden. As regards these feuds between different quarters of the Arab towns, the reader will bear in mind that such things can co-exist with considerable amount of civilization. In my time, the different villages in the Sorrentine plain were always at war. The Irish still fight in bodies at Birkenhead. And in the days of our fathers, the gamins of London amused themselves every Sunday by pitched battles on Primrose Hill, and the fields about Marylebone and St. Pancras. [FN#32] Alluding especially to their revengefulness, and their habit of storing up an injury, and of forgetting old friendships or benefits, when a trivial cause of quarrel arises. [FN#33] The sentence is passed by the Kazi: in cases of murder, he tries the criminal, and, after finding him guilty, sends him to the Pasha, who orders a Kawwas, or policeman, to strike off his head with a sword. Thieves are punished by mutilation of the hand. In fact, justice at Al-Madinah is administered in perfect conformity with the Shariat or Holy Law. [FN#34] Circumcisio utriusque sexus apud Arabos mos est vetustissimus. Aiunt theologi mutilationis hujus religiosae inventricem esse Saram, Abrahami uxorem quae, zelotypia incitata, Hagaris amorem minuendi gratia, somnientis puellae clitoridem exstirpavit. Deinde, Allaho jubente, Sara et Abrahamus ambo pudendorum partem cultello abscissere. Causa autem moris in viro mundities salusque, in puella impudicitiae prophylactica esse videntur. Gentes Asiaticae sinistra tantum manu abluentes utuntur; omnes quoque feminarem decies magis quam virorum libidinem aestimant. (Clitoridem amputant, quia, ut monet Aristoteles, pars illa sedes est et scaturigo veneris�rem plane profanam cum Sonninio exclamemus!) Nec excogitare potuit philosophus quanti et quam portentosi sunt talis mutilationis effectus. Mulierum minuuntur affectus, amor, voluptas. Crescunt tamen feminini doli, crudelitas, vitia et insatiabilis luxuria. (Ita in Eunuchis nonnunquam, teste Abelardo, suberstat cerebelli potestas, quum cupidinis satiandi facultas plane discessit.) Virilis quoque circumcisio lentam venerem et difficilem efficit. Glandis enim mollities frictione induratur, dehinc coitus tristis, tardus parumque vehemens. Forsitan in quibusdam populis localis quoque causa existit; caruncula immoderate crescente, amputationis necessitas exurgit. Deinde apud Somalos, gentem Africanam, excisio nympharum abscissioni clitoridis adjungitur. �Feminina circumcisio in Kahira Egyptiana et El Hejazio mos est universalis. Gens Bedouina uxorem salvam ducere nolit.��Shaykh al-Nawawi �de Uxore ducenda,� &c., &c. [FN#35] A phrase corresponding with our �beaute du diable.� [FN#36] This means consulting the will of the Deity, by praying for a dream in sleep, by the rosary, by opening the Koran, and other such devices, which bear blame if a negative be deemed necessary. It is a custom throughout the Moslem world, a relic, doubtless, of the Azlam or Kidah (seven divining-arrows) of the Pagan times. At Al-Madinah it is generally called Khirah. [FN#37] Among respectable citizens 400 dollars would be considered a fair average sum; the expense of the ceremony would be about half. This amount of ready money (£150) not being always procurable, many of the Madani marry late in life. [FN#38] Boys are allowed to be present, but they are not permitted to cry. Of their so misdemeaning themselves there is little danger; the Arab in these matters is a man from his cradle. [FN#39] They are called the Asdikah; in the singular, Sadik. [FN#40] From what I saw at Al-Madinah, the people are not so unprejudiced on this point as the Cairenes, who think little of selling a book in Wakf. The subject of Wakf, however, is an extensive one, and does not wholly exclude the legality of sale. [FN#41] This Shaykh is a Maliki Moslem from Algiers, celebrated as an Alim (sage), especially in the mystic study Al-Jafr. He is a Wali or saint; but opinions differ as regards his Kiramat (saint�s miracles): some disciples look upon him as the Mahdi (the forerunner of the Prophet), others consider him a clever impostor. His peculiar dogma is the superiority of live over dead saints, whose tombs are therefore not to be visited�a new doctrine in a Maliki! Abbas Pasha loved and respected him, and, as he refused all presents, built him a new Zawiyah (oratory) at Bulak; and when the Egyptian ruler�s mother was at Al-Madinah, she called upon him three times, it is said, before he would receive her. His followers and disciples are scattered in numbers about Tripoli and, amongst other oases of the Fezzan, at Siwah, where they saved the Abbe Hamilton�s life in A.D[.] 1843. [FN#42] Burckhardt�s Travels in Arabia, vol. ii. p. 174. [FN#43] Of which I have given an account in chapter xvi. [FN#44] The only abnormal sound amongst the consonants heard here and in Al-Hijaz generally is the pronouncing of k (A[rabic]) a hard g�for instance, �Gur�an� for �Kur�an� (a Koran), and Haggi or Hakki (my right). This g, however, is pronounced deep in the throat, and does not resemble the corrupt Egyptian pronunciation of the jim (j, [Arabic]), a letter which the Copts knew not, and which their modern descendants cannot articulate. In Al-Hijaz, the only abnormal sounds amongst the vowels are o for u, as Khokh, a peach, and [Arabic] for [Arabic], as Ohod for Uhud. The two short vowels fath and kasr are correctly pronounced, the former never becoming a short e, as in Egypt (El for Al and Yemen for Yaman), or a short i, as in Syria (�min� for �man� who? &c.) These vowels, however, are differently articulated in every part of the Arab world. So says St. Jerome of the Hebrew: �Nec refert atrum Salem aut Salim nominetur; cum vocalibus in medio literis perraro utantur Hebraei; et pro voluntate lectorum, ac varietate regionum, eadem verba diversis sonis atque accentibus proferantur.� [FN#45] e.g., Ant Zarabt�thou struckedst�for Zarabta. The final vowel, suffering apocope, would leave �Zarabt� equally applicable to the first person singular and the second person singular masculine. [p.28]CHAPTER XXII. A VISIT TO THE SAINTS� CEMETERY. A splendid comet, blazing in the western sky, had aroused the apprehensions of the Madani. They all fell to predicting the usual disasters�war, famine, and pestilence,�it being still an article of Moslem belief that the Dread Star foreshows all manner of calamities. Men discussed the probability of Abd al-Majid�s immediate decease; for here as in Rome, �When beggars die, there are no comets seen: The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes:� and in every strange atmospheric appearance about the time of the Hajj, the Hijazis are accustomed to read tidings of the dreaded Rih al-Asfar.[FN#l] Whether the event is attributable to the Zu Zuwabah�the �Lord of the Forelock,��or whether it was a case of post hoc, ergò, propter hoc, I would not commit myself by deciding; but, influenced by some cause or other, the Hawazim and the Hawamid, sub-families of the Benu-Harb, began to fight about this time with prodigious fury. These tribes are generally at feud, and the least provocation fans their smouldering wrath into a flame. The Hawamid number, it is said, between three and four thousand fighting men, and the Hawazim not more than seven hundred: the latter however, are considered a race of desperadoes who pride themselves upon never retreating, [p.29]and under their fiery Shaykhs, Abbas and Abu Ali, they are a thorn in the sides of their disproportionate foe. On the present occasion a Hamidah[FN#2] happened to strike the camel of a Hazimi which had trespassed; upon which the Hazimi smote the Hamidah, and called him a rough name. The Hamidah instantly shot the Hazimi, the tribes were called out, and they fought with asperity for some days. During the whole of the afternoon of Tuesday, the 30th of August, the sound of firing amongst the mountains was distinctly heard in the city. Through the streets parties of Badawin, sword and matchlock in hand, or merely carrying quarterstaves on their shoulders, might be seen hurrying along, frantic at the chance of missing the fray. The townspeople cursed them privily, expressing a hope that the whole race of vermin might consume itself. And the pilgrims were in no small trepidation, fearing the desertion of their camel-men, and knowing what a blaze is kindled in this inflammable land by an ounce of gunpowder. I afterwards heard that the Badawin fought till night, and separated after losing on both sides ten men. This quarrel put an end to any lingering possibility of my prosecuting my journey to Maskat,[FN#3] as originally intended. I had on the way from Yambu� to Al-Madinah privily made a friendship with one Mujrim of the Benu-Harb. The �Sinful,� as his name, ancient and classical amongst the Arabs, means, understood that I had some motive of secret interest to undertake the perilous journey. He could not promise at first to guide me, as his beat lay between Yambu�, Al-Madinah, Mec[c]ah, and Jeddah. But he offered to make all inquiries about the route, and to [p.30] bring me the result at noonday, a time when the household was asleep. He had almost consented at last to travel with me about the end of August, in which case I should have slipped out of Hamid�s house and started like a Badawi towards the Indian Ocean. But when the war commenced, Mujrim, who doubtless wished to stand by his brethren the Hawazim, began to show signs of recusancy in putting off the day of departure to the end of September. At last, when pressed, he frankly told me that no traveller�nay, not a Badawi�could leave the city in that direction, even as far as historic Khaybar,[FN#4] which information I afterwards ascertained to be correct. It was impossible to start alone, and when in despair I had recourse to Shaykh Hamid, he seemed to think me mad for wishing to wend Northwards when all the world was hurrying towards the South. My disappointment was bitter at first, but consolation soon suggested itself. Under the most favourable circumstances, a Badawi-trip from Al-Madinah to Maskat, fifteen or sixteen hundred miles, would require at least ten months; whereas, under pain of losing my commission,[FN#5] I was ordered to be at Bombay before the end of March. Moreover, entering Arabia by Al-Hijaz, as has before been said, I was obliged to leave behind all my instruments except a watch and a pocket-compass, so the benefit rendered to geography by my trip would have been scanty. Still remained [p.31] to me the comfort of reflecting that possibly at Meccah some opportunity of crossing the Peninsula might present itself. At any rate I had the certainty of seeing the strange wild country of the Hijaz, and of being present at the ceremonies of the Holy City. I must request the reader to bear with a Visitation once more: we shall conclude it with a ride to Al-Bakia.[FN#6] This venerable spot is frequented by the pious every day after the prayer at the Prophet�s Tomb, and especially on Fridays. Our party started one morning,�on donkeys, as usual, for my foot was not yet strong,�along the Darb al-Janazah round the Southern wall of the town. The locomotion was decidedly slow, principally in consequence of the tent-ropes which the Hajis had pinned down literally all over the plain, and falls were by no means unfrequent. At last we arrived at the end of the Darb, where I committed myself by mistaking the decaying place of those miserable schismatics the Nakhawilah[FN#7] for Al-Bakia, the glorious cemetery of the Saints. Hamid corrected my blunder with tartness, to which I replied as tartly, that in our country�Afghanistan�we burned the body of every heretic upon whom we could lay our hands. This truly Islamitic custom was heard with general applause, and as the little dispute ended, we stood at the open gate of Al-Bakia. Then having dismounted I sat down on a low Dakkah or stone bench within the walls, to obtain a general view and to prepare for the most fatiguing of the Visitations. There is a tradition that seventy thousand, or according to others a hundred thousand saints, all with faces like full moons, shall cleave on the last day the yawning bosom [p.32] of Al-Bakia.[FN#8] About ten thousand of the Ashab (Companions of the Prophet) and innumerable Sadat are here buried: their graves are forgotten, because, in the olden time, tombstones were not placed over the last resting-places of mankind. The first of flesh who shall arise is Mohammed, the second Abu Bakr, the third Omar, then the people of Al-Bakia (amongst whom is Osman, the fourth Caliph), and then the incol[ae] of the Jannat al-Ma�ala, the Meccan cemetery. The Hadis, �whoever dies at the two Harims shall rise with the Sure on the Day of judgment,� has made these spots priceless in value. And even upon earth they might be made a mine of wealth. Like the catacombs at Rome, Al-Bakia is literally full of the odour of sanctity, and a single item of the great aggregate here would render any other Moslem town famous. It is a pity that this people refuses to exhume its relics. The first person buried in Al-Bakia was Osman bin Maz�un, the first of the Muhajirs, who died at Al-Madinah. In the month of Sha�aban, A.H. 3, the Prophet kissed the forehead of the corpse and ordered it to be interred within sight of his abode.[FN#9] In those days the field was covered with the tree Gharkad; the vegetation was cut down, the ground was levelled, and Osman was placed in the centre of the new cemetery. With his own hands Mohammed planted two large upright stones at the head and the feet of his faithful follower[FN#10]; and in process of time a dome covered the spot. Ibrahim, the Prophet�s infant second [p.33] son, was laid by Osman�s side, after which Al-Bakia became a celebrated cemetery. The Burial-place of the Saints is an irregular oblong surrounded by walls which are connected with the suburb at their south-west angle. The Darb al-Janazah separates it from the enceinte of the town, and the eastern Desert Road beginning from the Bab al-Jumah bounds it on the North. Around it palm plantations seem to flourish. It is small, considering the extensive use made of it: all that die at Al-Madinah, strangers as well as natives, except only heretics and schismatics, expect to be interred in it. It must be choked with corpses, which it could never contain did not the Moslem style of burial greatly favour rapid decomposition; and it has all the inconveniences of �intramural sepulture.� The gate is small and ignoble; a mere doorway in the wall. Inside there are no flower-plots, no tall trees, in fact none of the refinements which lightens the gloom of a Christian burial-place: the buildings are simple, they might even be called mean. Almost all are the common Arab Mosque, cleanly whitewashed, and looking quite new. The ancient monuments were levelled to the ground by Sa�ad the Wahhabi and his puritan followers, who waged pitiless warfare against what must have appeared to them magnificent mausolea, deeming as they did a loose heap of stones sufficient for a grave. In Burckhardt�s time the whole place was a �confused accumulation of heaps of earth, wide pits, and rubbish, without a singular regular tomb-stone.� The present erections owe their existence, I was told, to the liberality of the Sultans Abd al-Hamid and Mahmud. A poor pilgrim has lately started on his last journey, and his corpse, unattended by friends or mourners, is carried upon the shoulders of hired buriers into the cemetery. Suddenly they stay their rapid steps, and throw the body upon the ground. There is a life-like pliability [p.34] about it as it falls, and the tight cerements so define the outlines that the action makes me shudder. It looks almost as if the dead were conscious of what is about to occur. They have forgotten their tools; one man starts to fetch them, and three sit down to smoke. After a time a shallow grave is hastily scooped out.[FN#11] The corpse is packed in it with such unseemly haste that earth touches it in all directions,�cruel carelessness among Moslems, who believe this to torture the sentient frame.[FN#12] One comfort suggests itself. The poor man being a pilgrim has died �Shahid��in martyrdom. Ere long his spirit shall leave Al-Bakia, �And he on honey-dew shall feed, And drink the milk of Paradise.� I entered the holy cemetery right foot forwards, as if it were a Mosque, and barefooted, to avoid suspicion of being a heretic. For though the citizens wear their shoes in the Bakia, they are much offended at seeing the Persians follow their example. We began by the general benediction[FN#13]: �Peace be upon Ye, O People of Al-Bakia! Peace be upon Ye, O Admitted to the Presence of the [p.35] Most High! Receive Ye what Ye have been promised! Peace be upon Ye, Martyrs of Al-Bakia, One and All! We verily, if Allah please, are about to join You! O Allah, pardon us and Them, and the Mercy of God, and His Blessings!� After which we recited the Chapter Al-Ikhlas and the Testification, then raised our hands, mumbled the Fatihah, passed our palms down our faces, and went on. Walking down a rough narrow path, which leads from the western to the eastern extremity of Al-Bakia, we entered the humble mausoleum of the Caliph Osman�Osman �Al-Mazlum,� or the �ill-treated,� he is called by some Moslems. When he was slain,[FN#14] his friends wished to bury him by the Prophet in the Hujrah, and Ayishah made no objection to the measure. But the people of Egypt became violent; swore that the corpse should neither be buried nor be prayed over, and only permitted it to be removed upon the threat of Habibah (one of the �Mothers of the Moslems,� and daughter of Abu Sufiyan) to expose her countenance. During the night that followed his death, Osman was carried out by several of his friends to Al-Bakia, from which, however, they were driven away, and obliged to deposit their burden in a garden, eastward of and outside the saints� cemetery. It was called Hisn Kaukab, and was looked upon as an inauspicious place of sepulture, till Marwan included it in Al-Bakia. We stood before Osman�s monument, repeating, �Peace be upon Thee, O our Lord Osman, Son of Affan![FN#15] Peace be upon [p.36] Thee, O Caliph of Allah�s Apostle! Peace be upon Thee, O Writer of Allah�s Book! Peace be upon Thee, in whose Presence the Angels are ashamed![FN#16] Peace be upon Thee, O Collector of the Koran! Peace be upon Thee, O Son-in-Law of the Prophet! Peace be upon Thee, O Lord of the Two Lights (the two daughters of Mohammed)![FN#17] Peace be upon Thee, who fought the Battle of the Faith! Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy Habitation! Peace be upon Thee, and the Mercy of Allah and His Blessing, and Praise be to Allah, Lord of the (three) Worlds!� This supplication concluded in the usual manner. After which we gave alms, and settled with ten piastres the demands of the Khadim[FN#18] who takes charge of the tomb: this double-disbursing process had to be repeated at each station. Then moving a few paces to the North, we faced Eastwards, and performed the Visitation of Abu Sa�id al-Khazari, a Sahib or Companion of the Prophet, whose sepulchre lies outside Al-Bakia. The third place visited was a dome containing the tomb of our lady Halimah, the Badawi wet-nurse who took charge of Mohammed[FN#19]: [p.37] she is addressed hus; �Peace be upon Thee, O Halimah the Auspicious![FN#20] Peace be upon Thee, who performed thy Trust in suckling the Best of Mankind! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mustafa (the chosen)! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mujtaba (the (accepted)![FN#21] May Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy House and Habitation! and verily we have come visiting Thee, and by means of Thee drawing near to Allah�s Prophet, and through Him to God, the Lord of the Heavens and the Earths.[FN#22]� After which, fronting the North, we stood before a low enclosure, containing ovals of loose stones, disposed side by side. These are the Martyrs of Al-Bakia, who received the crown of glory at the hands of Al-Muslim,[FN#23] the general of the arch-heretic Yazid[FN#24] The prayer here recited differs so little from that addressed to the martyrs of Ohod, that I will not transcribe it. The fifth station is near the centre of the cemetery at the tomb of Ibrahim, who died, to the eternal regret of Al-Islam, some say six months old, others in his second year. He was the son [p.38] of Mariyah, the Coptic girl, sent as a present to Mohammed by Jarih, the Mukaukas or governor of Alexandria. The Prophet with his own hand piled earth upon the grave, and sprinkled it with water,�a ceremony then first performed,�disposed small stones upon it, and pronounced the final salutation. For which reason many holy men were buried in this part of the cemetery, every one being ambitious to lie in ground which has been honored by the Apostle�s hands. Then we visited Al-Nafi Maula, son of Omar, generally called Imam Nafi al-Kari, or the Koran chaunter; and near him the great doctor Imam Malik ibn Anas, a native of Al-Madinah, and one of the most dutiful of her sons. The eighth station is at the tomb of Ukayl bin Abi Talib, brother of Ali.[FN#25] Then we visited the spot where lie interred all the Prophet�s wives, Khadijah, who lies at Meccah, alone excepted. Mohammed married fifteen wives of whom nine survived him. After the �Mothers of the Moslems,� we prayed at the tombs of Mohammed�s daughters, said to be ten in number. In compliment probably to the Hajj, the beggars mustered strong that morning at Al-Bakia. Along the walls and at the entrance of each building squatted ancient dames, all engaged in anxious contemplation of every approaching face, and in pointing to dirty cotton napkins spread upon the ground before them, and studded with a few coins, gold, silver, or copper, according to the expectations of the proprietress. They raised their voices to demand largesse: some promised to recite Fatihahs, and the most audacious seized visitors by the skirts of their [p.39] garments. Fakihs, ready to write �Y.S.,� or anything else demanded of them, covered the little heaps and eminences of the cemetery, all begging lustily, and looking as though they would murder you, when told how beneficent is Allah�polite form of declining to be charitable. At the doors of the tombs old housewives, and some young ones also, struggled with you for your slippers as you doffed them, and not unfrequently the charge of the pair was divided between two. Inside, when the boys were not loud enough or importunate enough for presents, they were urged on by the adults and seniors, the relatives of the �Khadims� and hangers-on. Unfortunately for me, Shaykh Hamid was renowned for taking charge of wealthy pilgrims: the result was, that my purse was lightened of three dollars. I must add that although at least fifty female voices loudly promised that morning, for the sum of ten parahs each, to supplicate Allah in behalf of my lame foot, no perceptible good came of their efforts. Before leaving Al-Bakia, we went to the eleventh station, [FN#26] the Kubbat al-Abbasiyah, or Dome of Abbas. Originally built by the Abbaside Caliphs in A.H. 519, it is a larger and a handsomer building than its fellows, and it is situated on the right-hand side of the gate as you enter. The crowd of beggars at the door testified to its importance: they were attracted by the Persians who assemble here in force to weep and to pray. Crossing the threshold with some difficulty, I walked round a mass of tombs which occupies the centre of the building, leaving but a narrow passage between it and the walls. It is railed round, and covered over with several �Kiswahs� of green cloth worked with white letters: it looked like a confused [p.40] heap, but it might have appeared irregular to me by the reason of the mob around. The Eastern portion contains the body of Al-Hasan, the son of Ali and grandson of the Prophet[FN#27]; the Imam Zayn al-Abidin, son of Al-Hosayn, and great-grandson to the Prophet; the Imam Mohammed al-Bakir (fifth Imam), son to Zayn al-Abidin; and his son the Imam a�afar al-Sadik�all four descendants of the Prophet, and buried in the same grave with Abbas ibn Abd al-Muttalib, uncle to Mohammed. It is almost needless to say that these names are subjects of great controversy. Al-Musudi mentions that here was found an inscribed stone declaring it to be the tomb of the Lady Fatimah, of Hasan her brother, of Ali bin Hosayn, of Mohammed bin Ali, and of Ja�afar bin Mohammed. Ibn Jubayr, describing Al-Bakia, mentions only two in this tomb, Abbas and Hasan; the head of the latter, he says, in the direction of the former�s feet. Other authors [p.41] relate that in it, about the ninth century of the Hijrah, was found a wooden box covered with fresh-looking red felt cloth, with bright brass nails, and they believe it to have contained the corpse of Ali, placed here by his own son Hasan. Standing opposite this mysterious tomb, we repeated, with difficulty by reason of the Persians weeping, the following supplication:��Peace be upon Ye, O Family of the Prophet! O Lord Abbas, the free from Impurity and Uncleanness, and Father�s Brother to the Best of Men! And Thou too O Lord Hasan, Grandson of the Prophet! And thou also O Lord Zayn al-Abidin[FN#28]! Peace be upon Ye, One and All, for verily God hath been pleased to deliver You from all Guile, and to purify You with all Purity. The Mercy of Allah and His Blessings be upon Ye, and verily He is the Praised, the Mighty!� After which, freeing ourselves from the hands of greedy boys, we turned round and faced the southern wall, close to which is a tomb attributed to the Lady Fatimah.[FN#29] I will not repeat the prayer, it being the same as that recited in the Harim. [p.42] Issuing from the hot and crowded dome, we recovered our slippers after much trouble, and found that our garments had suffered from the frantic gesticulations of the Persians. We then walked to the gate of Al-Bakia, stood facing the cemetery upon an elevated piece of ground, and delivered the general benediction. �O Allah! O Allah! O Allah! O full of Mercy! O abounding in Beneficence! Lord of Length (of days), and Prosperity, and Goodness! O Thou, who when asked, grantest, and when prayed for aid, aidest! Have Mercy upon the Companions of thy Prophet, of the Muhajirin, and the Ansar! Have Mercy upon them, One and All! [p.43] Have Mercy upon bdullah bin Hantal� (and so on, specifying their names), �and make Paradise their Resting-place, their Habitation, their Dwelling, and their Abode! O Allah! accept our Ziyarat, and supply our Wants, and lighten our Griefs, and restore us to our Homes, and comfort our Fears, and disappoint not our Hopes, and pardon us, for on no other do we rely; and let us depart in Thy Faith, and after the Practice of Thy Prophet, and be Thou satisfied with us! O Allah! forgive our past Offences, and leave us not to our (evil) Natures during the Glance of an Eye, or a lesser Time; and pardon us, and pity us, and let us return to our Houses and Homes safe,� (i.e., spiritually and physically) �fortunate, abstaining from what is unlawful, re-established after our Distresses, and belonging to the Good, thy Servants upon whom is no Fear, nor do they know Distress. Repentance, O Lord! Repentance, O Merciful! Repentance, O Pitiful! Repentance before Death, and Pardon after Death! I beg pardon of Allah! Thanks be to Allah! Praise be to Allah! Amen, O Lord of the (three) Worlds!� After which, issuing from Al-Bakia,[FN#30] we advanced [p.44] northwards, leaving the city gate on the left hand, till we came to a small Kubbah (dome) close to the road. It is visited as containing the tomb of the Prophet�s paternal aunts, especially of Safiyah, daughter of Abd al-Muttalib, sister of Hamzah, and one of the many heroines of early Al-Islam. Hurrying over our devotions here,�for we were tired indeed,�we applied to a Sakka for water, and entered a little coffee-house near the gate of the town: after which we rode home. I have now described, at a wearying length I fear, the spots visited by every Zair at Al-Madinah. The guide-books mention altogether between fifty and fifty-five Mosques and other holy places, most of which are now unknown even by name to the citizens. The most celebrated of these are the few following, which I describe from hearsay. About three miles to the North-west of the town, close to the Wady al-Akik, lies the Mosque called Al-Kiblatayn��The Two Directions of Prayer.� Some give this title to the Masjid al-Takwa at Kuba.[FN#31] Others assert that the Prophet, after visiting and eating [p.45] at the house of an old woman named Umm Mabshar, went to pray the mid-day prayer in the Mosque of the Benu Salmah. He had performed the prostration with his face towards Jerusalem, when suddenly warned by revelation he turned Southwards and concluded his orisons in that direction.[FN#32] I am told it is a mean dome without inner walls, outer enclosures, or minaret. The Masjid Benu Zafar (some write the word Tifr) is also called Masjid al-Baghlah�of the She-mule,�because, according to Al-Matari, on the ridge of stone to the south of this Mosque are the marks where the Prophet leaned his arm, and where the she-mule, Duldul, sent by the Mukaukas as a present with Mariyah the Coptic girl and Yafur the donkey, placed its hoofs. At the Mosque was shown a slab upon which the Prophet sat hearing recitations from the Koran; and historians declare that by following his example many women have been blessed with offspring.[FN#33] This Mosque is to the East of Al-Bakia. The Masjid al-Jumah�of Friday,�or Al-Anikah�of the Sand-heaps,�is in the valley near Kuba, where Mohammed prayed and preached on the first Friday after his flight from Meccah [FN#34] The Masjid al-Fazikh�of Date-liquor�is so called because when Abu Ayyub and others of the Ansar were sitting with cups in their hands, they heard that intoxicating [p.46] draughts were for the future forbidden, upon which they poured the liquor upon the ground. Here the Prophet prayed six days whilst he was engaged in warring down the Benu Nazir Jews. The Mosque derives its other name, Al-Shams�of the Sun�because, being erected on rising ground East of and near Kuba, it receives the first rays of morning light. To the Eastward of the Masjid al-Fazikh lies the Masjid al-Kurayzah, erected on a spot where the Prophet descended to attack the Jewish tribe of that name. Returning from the battle of the Moat, wayworn and tired with fighting, he here sat down to wash and comb his hair, when suddenly appeared to him the Archangel Gabriel in the figure of a horseman dressed in a corslet and covered with dust. �The Angels of Allah,� said the preternatural visitor, �are still in Arms, O Prophet, and it is Allah�s Will that Thy foot return to the Stirrup. I go before Thee to prepare a Victory over the Infidels, the Sons of Kurayzah.� The legend adds that the dust raised by the angelic host was seen in the streets of Al-Madinah, but that mortal eye fell not upon horseman�s form. The Prophet ordered his followers to sound the battle-call, gave his flag to Ali,�the Arab token of appointing a commander-in-chief,�and for twenty-five days invested the habitations of the enemy. This hapless tribe was exterminated, sentence of death being passed upon them by Sa�ad ibn Ma�az, an Ausi whom they constituted their judge because he belonged to an allied tribe. Six hundred men were beheaded in the Market-place of Al-Madinah, their property was plundered, and their wives and children were reduced to slavery. �Tantane relligio potuit suadere malorum!� The Masjid Mashrabat Umm Ibrahim, or Mosque of the garden of Ibrahim�s mother, is a place where Mariyah the Copt had a garden, and became the mother of [p.47] Ibrahim, the Prophet�s second son.[FN#35] It is a small building in what is called the Awali, or highest part of the Al-Madinah plain, to the North of the Masjid Benu Kurayzah, and near the Eastern Harrah or ridge.[FN#36] Northwards of Al-Bakia is, or was, a small building called the Masjid al-Ijabah�of Granting,�from the following circumstance. One day the Prophet stopped to perform his devotions at this place, which then belonged to the Benu Mu�awiyah of the tribe of Aus. He made a long Dua or supplication, and then turning to his Companions, exclaimed, �I have asked of Allah three favours, two hath he vouchsafed to me, but the third was refused!� Those granted were that the Moslems might never be destroyed by famine or by deluge. The third was that they might not perish by internecine strife. The Masjid al-Fath (of Victory), vulgarly called the �Four Mosques,� is situated in the Wady Al-Sayh,[FN#37] which comes from the direction of Kuba, and about half a mile to the East of �Al-Kiblatayn.� The largest is called the Masjid al-Fath, or Al-Ahzab�of the Troops,�and is alluded to in the Koran. Here it is said the Prophet prayed for three days during the Battle of the Moat, also called the affair �Al-Ahzab,� the last fought with the Infidel Kuraysh under Abu Sufiyan. After three days of devotion, a cold and violent blast arose, with rain [p.48] and sleet, and discomfited the foe. The Prophet�s prayer having here been granted, it is supposed by ardent Moslems that no petition put up at the Mosque Al-Ahzab is ever neglected by Allah. The form of supplication is differently quoted by different authors. When Al-Shafe�i was in trouble and fear of Harun al-Rashid, by the virtue of this formula he escaped all danger: I would willingly offer so valuable a prophylactory to my readers, only it is of an unmanageable length. The doctors of Al-Islam also greatly differ about the spot where the Prophet stood on this occasion; most of them support the claims of the Masjid al-Fath, the most elevated of the four, to that distinction. Below, and to the South of the highest ground, is the Masjid Salman al-Farsi, the Persian, from whose brain emanated the bright idea of the Moat. At the mature age of two hundred and fifty, some say three hundred and fifty, after spending his life in search of a religion, from a Magus (fire-worshipper)[FN#38] becoming successively a Jew and a Nazarene, he ended with being a Moslem, and a Companion of Mohammed. During his eventful career he had been ten times sold into slavery. Below Salman�s Mosque is the Masjid Ali, and the smallest building on the South of the hill is called Masjid Abu Bakr. All these places owe their existence to Al-Walid the Caliph: they were repaired at times by his successors. The Masjid al-Rayah�of the Banner�was originally built by Al-Walid upon a place where the Prophet pitched his tent during the War of the Moat. Others call it Al-Zubab, after a hill upon which it stands. Al-Rayah is separated from the Masjid al-Fath by a rising ground called Jabal Sula or Jabal Sawab[FN#39]: the former [p.49] being on the Eastern, whilst the latter lies upon the Western declivity of the hill. The position of this place is greatly admired, as commanding the fairest view of the Harim. About a mile and a half South-east of Al-Bakia is a dome called Kuwwat Islam, the �Strength of Al-Islam.� Here the Apostle planted a dry palm-stick, which grew up, blossomed, and bore fruit at once. Moreover, on one occasion when the Moslems were unable to perform the pilgrimage, Mohammed here produced the appearance of a Ka�abah, an Arafat, and all the appurtenances of the Hajj. I must warn my readers not to condemn the founder of Al-Islam for these puerile inventions. The Masjid Onayn lies South of Hamzah�s tomb. It is on a hill called Jabal al-Rumat, the Shooters� Hill, and here during the battle of Ohod stood the archers of Al-Islam. According to some, the Prince of Martyrs here received his death-wound; others place that event at the Masjid al-Askar or the Masjid al-Wady.[FN#40] Besides these fourteen, I find the names, and nothing but the names, of forty Mosques. The reader loses little by my unwillingness to offer him a detailed list of such appellations as Masjid Benu Abd al-Ashhal, Masjid Benu Harisah, Masjid Benu Harim, Masjid al-Fash, Masjid al-Sukiya, Masjid Benu Bayazah, Masjid Benu Hatmah, �Cum multis aliis quæ nunc perscribere longum est.� [FN#1] The cholera. See chapter xviii. [FN#2] The word Hawamid is plural of Hamidah, Hawazin of Hazimi. [FN#3] Anciently there was a Caravan from Maskat to Al-Madinah. My friends could not tell me when the line had been given up, but all were agreed that for years they had not seen an Oman caravan, the pilgrims preferring to enter Al-Hijaz via Jeddah. [FN#4] According to Abulfeda, Khaybar is six stations N.E. of Al-Madinah; it is four according to Al-Idrisi; but my informants assured me that camels go there easily, as the Tarikh al-Khamisy says, in three days. I should place it 80 miles N.N.E. of Al-Madinah. Al-Atwal locates it in 65° 20' E. lon., and 25° 20' N. lat; Al-Kanun in lon. 67° 30', and lat. 24° 20'; Ibn Sa�id in lon. 64° 56', and lat. 27°; and D�Anville in lon. 57°, and lat. 25°. In Burckhardt�s map, and those copied from it, Khaybar is placed about 2° distant from Al-Madinah, which I believe to be too far. [FN#5] The Parliamentary limit of an officer�s leave from India is five years: if he overstay that period, he forfeits his commission. {to me the comfort of reflecting that possibly at Meccah some opportunity of crossing the Peninsula might present itself. At any rate I had the certainty of seeing the strange wild country of the Hijaz, and of being present at the ceremonies of the Holy City. I must request the reader to bear with a Visitation once more: we shall conclude it with a ride to Al-Bakia.[FN#6] This venerable spot is frequented by the pious every day after the prayer at the Prophet�s Tomb, and especially on Fridays. [FN#6] The name means �the place of many roots.� It is also called Bakia Al-Gharkad�the place of many roots of the tree Rhamnus. Gharkad is translated in different ways: some term it the lote, others the tree of the Jews (Forskal, sub voce). [FN#7] See chapter xxi., ante. [FN#8] The same is said of the Makbarah Benu Salmah or Salim, a cemetery to the west of Al-Madinah, below rising ground called Jabal Sula. It has long ago been deserted. See chapter xiv. [FN#9] In those days Al-Madinah had no walls, and was clear of houses on the East of the Harim. [FN#10] These stones were removed by Al-Marwan, who determined that Osman�s grave should not be distinguished from his fellows. For this act, the lieutenant of Mu�awiyah was reproved and blamed by pious Moslems. [FN#11] It ought to be high enough for the tenant to sit upright when answering the interrogatory angels. [FN#12] Because of this superstition, in every part of Al-Islam, some contrivance is made to prevent the earth pressing upon the body. [FN#13] This blessing is in Mohammed�s words, as the beauty of the Arabic shows. Ayishah relates that in the month Safar, A.H. 11, one night the Prophet, who was beginning to suffer from the headache which caused his death, arose from his couch, and walked out into the darkness; whereupon she followed him in a fit of jealousy, thinking he might be about to visit some other wife. He went to Al-Bakia, delivered the above benediction (which others give somewhat differently), raised his hands three times, and turned to go home. Ayishah hurried back, but she could not conceal her agitation from her husband, who asked her what she had done. Upon her confessing her suspicions, he sternly informed her that he had gone forth, by order of the Archangel Gabriel, to bless and to intercede for the people of Al-Bakia. Some authors relate a more facetious termination of the colloquy.�M.C. de Perceval (Essai, &c., vol. iii. p. 314.) [FN#14] �Limping Osman,� as the Persians contemptuously call him, was slain by rebels, and therefore became a martyr according to the Sunnis. The Shi�ahs justify the murder, saying it was the act of an �Ijma al-Muslimin,� or the general consensus of Al-Islam, which in their opinion ratifies an act of �lynch law.� [FN#15] This specifying the father Affan, proves him to have been a Moslem. Abu Bakr�s father, �Kahafah,� and Omar�s �Al-Khattab,� are not mentioned by name in the Ceremonies of Visitation. [FN#16] The Christian reader must remember that the Moslems rank angelic nature, under certain conditions, below human nature. [FN#17] Osman married two daughters of the Prophet, a circumstance which the Sunnis quote as honourable to him: the Shi�ahs, on the contrary, declare that he killed them both by ill-treatment. [FN#18] These men are generally descendants of the Saint whose tomb they own: they receive pensions from the Mudir of the Mosque, and retain all fees presented to them by visitors. Some families are respectably supported in this way. [FN#19] This woman, according to some accounts, also saved Mohammed�s life, when an Arab Kahin or diviner, foreseeing that the child was destined to subvert the national faith, urged the bystanders to bury their swords in his bosom. The Sharifs of Meccah still entrust their children to the Badawin, that they may be hardened by the discipline of the Desert. And the late Pasha of Egypt gave one of his sons in charge of the Anizah tribe, near Akabah. Burckhardt (Travels in Arabia, vol. i. p. 427) makes some sensible remarks about this custom, which cannot be too much praised. [FN#20] Al- �Sadiyah,� a double entendre; it means auspicious, and also alludes to Halimah�s tribe, the Benu Sa�ad. [FN#21] Both these words are titles of the Prophet. Al-Mustafa means the �Chosen�; Al-Mujtaba, the �Accepted.� [FN#22] There being, according to the Moslems, many heavens and many earths. [FN#23] See chapter xx. [FN#24] The Shafe�i school allows its disciples to curse Al-Yazid, the son of Mu�awiyah, whose cruelties to the descendants of the Prophet, and crimes and vices, have made him the Judas Iscariot of Al-Islam. I have heard Hanafi Moslems, especially Sayyids, revile him; but this is not, strictly speaking, correct. The Shi�ahs, of course, place no limits to their abuse of him. You first call a man �Omar,� then �Shimr,� (the slayer of Al-Hosayn), and lastly, �Yazid,� beyond which insult does not extend. [FN#25] Ukayl or Akil, as many write the name, died at Damascus, during the Caliphate of Al-Mu�awiyah. Some say he was buried there, others that his corpse was transplanted to Al-Madinah, and buried in a place where formerly his house, known as �Dar Ukayl,� stood. [FN#26] Some are of opinion that the ceremonies of Ziyarat formerly did, and still should begin here. But the order of visitation differs infinitely, and no two authors seem to agree. I was led by Shaykh Hamid, and indulged in no scruples. [FN#27] Burckhardt makes a series of mistakes upon this subject. �Hassan ibn Aly, whose trunk only lies buried here (in El Bakia), his head having been sent to Cairo, where it is preserved in the fine Mosque called El-Hassanya.� The Mosque Al-Hasanayn (the �two Hasans�) is supposed to contain only the head of Al-Hosayn, which, when the Crusaders took Ascalon, was brought from thence by Sultan Salih or Beybars, and conveyed to Cairo. As I have said before, the Persians in Egypt openly show their contempt of this tradition. It must be remembered that Al-Hasan died poisoned at Al-Madinah by his wife Ja�adah. Al-Hosayn, on the other hand, was slain and decapitated at Kerbela. According to the Shi�ahs, Zayn al-Abidin obtained from Yazid, after a space of forty days, his father�s head, and carried it back to Kerbela, for which reason the event is known to the Persians as �Chilleyeh sar o tan,� the �forty days of (separation between) the head and trunk.� They vehemently deny that the body lies at Kerbela, and the head at Cairo. Others, again, declare that Al-Hosayn�s head was sent by Yazid to Amir bin al-As, the governor of Al-Madinah, and was by him buried near Fatimah�s Tomb. Nor are they wanting who declare, that after Yazid�s death the head was found in his treasury, and was shrouded and buried at Damascus. Such is the uncertainty which hangs over the early history of Al-Islam[.] [FN#28] The names of the fifth and sixth Imams, Mohammed al-Bakia and Ja�afar al-Sadik, were omitted by Hamid, as doubtful whether they are really buried here or not. [FN#29] Moslem historians seem to delight in the obscurity which hangs over the lady�s last resting-place, as if it were an honour even for the receptacle of her ashes to be concealed from the eyes of men. Some place her in the Harim, relying upon this tradition: �Fatimah, feeling about to die, rose up joyfully, performed the greater ablution, dressed herself in pure garments, spread a mat upon the floor of her house near the Prophet�s Tomb, lay down fronting the Kiblah, placed her hand under her cheek, and said to her attendant, �I am pure and in a pure dress; now let no one uncover my body, but bury me where I lie!� When Ali returned he found his wife dead, and complied with her last wishes. Omar bin Abd al-Aziz believed this tradition, when he included the room in the Mosque; and generally in Al-Islam Fatimah is supposed to be buried in the Harim. Those who suppose the Prophet�s daughter to be buried in Al-Bakia rely upon a saying of the Imam Hasan, �If men will not allow me to sleep beside my grandsire, place me in Al-Bakia, by my mother.� They give the following account of his death and burial. His body was bathed and shrouded by Ali and Omar Salmah. Others say that Asma Bint Umays, the wife of Abu Bakr, was present with Fatimah, who at her last hour complained of being carried out, as was the custom of those days, to burial like a man. Asma promised to make her a covered bier, like a bride�s litter, of palm sticks, in shape like what she had seen in Abyssinia: whereupon Fatimah smiled for the first time after her father�s death, and exacted from her a promise to allow no one entrance as long as her corpse was in the house. Ayishah, shortly afterwards knocking at the door, was refused admittance by Asma; the former complained of this to her father, and declared that her stepmother had been making a bride�s litter to carry out the corpse. Abu Bakr went to the door, and when informed by his wife that all was the result of Fatimah�s orders, he returned home making no objection. The death of the Prophet�s daughter was concealed by her own desire from high and low; she was buried at night, and none accompanied her bier, or prayed at her grave, except Ali and a few relatives. The Shi�ahs found a charge of irreverence and disrespect against Abu Bakr for absence on this occasion. The third place which claims Fatimah�s honoured remains, is a small Mosque in Al-Bakia, South of the Sepulchre of Abbas. It was called Bayt al-Huzn�House of Mourning�because here the lady passed the end of her days, lamenting the loss of her father. Her tomb appears to have formerly been shown there. Now visitors pray, and pray only twice,�at the Harim, and in the Kubbat al-Abbasiyah. [FN#30] The other celebrities in Al-Bakia are:� Fatimah bint As�ad, mother of Ali. She was buried with great religious pomp. The Prophet shrouded her with his own garment (to prevent hell from touching her), dug her grave, lay down in it (that it might never squeeze or be narrow to her), assisted in carrying the bier, prayed over her, and proclaimed her certain of future felicity. Over her tomb was written, �The grave hath not closed upon one like Fatimah, daughter of As�ad.� Historians relate that Mohammed lay down in only four graves: 1. Khadijah�s, at Meccah. 2. Kasim�s, her son by him. 3. That of Umm Ruman, Ayishah�s mother. 4. That of Abdullah al-Mazni, a friend and companion. Abd al-Rahman bin Auf was interred near Osman bin Maz�un. Ayishah offered to bury him in her house near the Prophet, but he replied that he did not wish to narrow her abode, and that he had promised to sleep by the side of his friend Maz�un. I have already alluded to the belief that none has been able to occupy the spare place in the Hujrah. Ibn Hufazah al-Sahmi, who was one of the Ashab al-Hijratayn (who had accompanied both flights, the greater and the lesser), here died of a wound received at Ohod, and was buried in Shawwal, A.H. 3, one month after Osman bin Maz�un. Abdullah bin Mas�ud, who, according to others, is buried at Kufah. Sa�ad ibn Zararah, interred near Osman bin Maz�un. Sa�ad bin Ma�az, who was buried by the Prophet. He died of a wound received during the battle of the Moat. Abd al-Rahman al-Ausat, son of Omar, the Caliph. He was generally known as Abu Shahmah, the �Father of Fat�: he sickened and died, after receiving from his father the religious flogging�impudicitiae causa. Abu Sufiyan bin al-Haris, grandson of Abd al-Muttalib. He was buried near Abdullah bin Ja�afar al-Tayyar, popularly known as the �most generous of the Arabs,� and near Ukayl bin Abi Talib, the brother of Ali mentioned above. These are the principal names mentioned by popular authors. The curious reader will find in old histories a multitude of others, whose graves are now utterly forgotten at Al-Madinah. [FN#31] See chapter xix. [FN#32] The story is related in another way. Whilst Mohammed was praying the Asr or afternoon prayer at the Harim he turned his face towards Meccah. Some of the Companions ran instantly to all the Mosques, informing the people of the change. In many places they were not listened to, but the Benu Salmah who were at prayer instantly faced Southwards. To commemorate their obedience the Mosque was called Al-Kiblatayn. [FN#33] I cannot say whether this valuable stone be still at the Mosque Benu Tifr. But I perfectly remember that my friend Larking had a mutilated sphynx in his garden at Alexandria, which was found equally efficacious. [FN#34] See chapter xvii. [FN#35] Mohammed�s eldest son was Kasim, who died in his infancy, and was buried at Meccah. Hence the Prophet�s pædonymic, Abu Kasim, the sire of Kasim. [FB#36] Ayishah used to relate that she was exceedingly jealous of the Coptic girl�s beauty, and of the Prophet�s love for her. Mohammed seeing this, removed Mariyah from the house of Harisat bin al-Numan, in which he had placed her, to the Awali of Al-Madinah, where the Mosque now is. Oriental authors use this term �Awali,� high-grounds, to denote the plains to the Eastward and Southward of the City, opposed to Al-Safilah, the lower ground on the W. and N.W. [FN#37] I am very doubtful about this location of the Masjid al-Fath. [FN#38] A magus, a magician, one supposed to worship fire. The other rival sect of the time was the Sab�an who adored the heavenly bodies. [FN#39] The Mosque of �reward in heaven.� It is so called because during the War of the Moat, the Prophet used to live in a cave there, and afterwards he made it a frequent resort for prayer. [FN#40] Hamzah�s fall is now placed at the Kubbat al-Masra. See chapter xx. [p.50]CHAPTER XXIII. THE DAMASCUS CARAVAN. THE Damascus Caravan was to set out on the 27th Zu�l Ka�adah (1st September). I had intended to stay at Al-Madinah till the last moment, and to accompany the Kafilat al-Tayyarah, or the �Flying Caravan,� which usually leaves on the 2nd Zu�l Hijjah, two days after that of Damascus. Suddenly arose the rumour that there would be no Tayyarah,[FN#l] and that all pilgrims must proceed with the Damascus Caravan or await the Rakb. This is a Dromedary Caravan, in which each person carries only his saddle-bags. It usually descends by the road called Al-Khabt, and makes Meccah on the fifth day. The Sharif Zayd, Sa�ad the Robber�s only friend, had paid him an unsuccessful visit. Schinderhans demanded back his Shaykh-ship, in return for a safe-conduct through his country: �Otherwise,� said he, �I will cut the throat of every hen that ventures into the passes.� The Sharif Zayd returned to Al-Madinah on the 25th Zu�l Ka�adah (30th August). Early on the morning of the next day, Shaykh Hamid returned hurriedly from the bazar, exclaiming, �You must make ready at once, Effendi!�there will be no Tayyarah�all Hajis start to-morrow�Allah will make it easy to you!�have you [p.51] your water-skins in order?�you are to travel down the Darb al-Sharki, where you will not see water for three days!� Poor Hamid looked horrorstruck as he concluded this fearful announcement, which filled me with joy. Burckhardt had visited and had described the Darb al-Sultani, the road along the coast. But no European had as yet travelled down by Harun al-Rashid�s and the Lady Zubaydah�s celebrated route through the Nijd Desert. Not a moment, however, was to be lost: we expected to start early the next morning. The boy Mohammed went forth, and bought for eighty piastres a Shugduf, which lasted us throughout the pilgrimage, and for fifteen piastres a Shibriyah or cot to be occupied by Shaykh Nur, who did not relish sleeping on boxes. The youth was employed all day, with sleeves tucked up, and working like a porter, in covering the litter with matting and rugs, in mending broken parts, and in providing it with large pockets for provisions inside and outside, with pouches to contain the gugglets of cooled water. Meanwhile Shaykh Nur and I, having inspected the water-skins, found that the rats had made considerable rents in two of them. There being no workman procurable at this time for gold, I sat down to patch the damaged articles; whilst Nur was sent to lay in supplies for fourteen days. The journey is calculated at eleven days; but provisions are apt to spoil, and the Badawi camel-men expect to be fed. Besides which, pilferers abound. By my companion�s advice I took wheat-flour, rice, turmeric, onions, dates, unleavened bread of two kinds, cheese, limes, tobacco, sugar, tea and coffee. Hamid himself started upon the most important part of our business. Faithful camel-men are required upon a road where robberies are frequent and stabbings occasional, and where there is no law to prevent desertion or to limit new and exorbitant demands. After a time he [p.52] returned, accompanied by a boy and a Badawi, a short, thin, well-built old man with regular features, a white beard, and a cool clear eye; his limbs, as usual, were scarred with wounds. Mas�ud of the Rahlah, a sub-family of the Hamidah family of the Benu-Harb, came in with a dignified demeanour, applied his dexter palm to ours,[FN#2] sat down, declined a pipe, accepted coffee, and after drinking it, looked at us to show that he was ready for nego[t]iation. We opened the proceedings with �We want men, and not camels,� and the conversation proceeded in the purest Hijazi.[FN#3] After much discussion, we agreed, if compelled to travel by the Darb al-Sharki, to pay twenty dollars for two camels,[FN#4] and to advance Arbun, or earnest-money, to half that amount.[FN#5] The Shaykh bound himself to provide us with good animals, which, moreover, were to be changed in case of accidents: he was also to supply his beasts with water, and to accompany us to Arafat and back. But, absolutely refusing to carry my large chest, he declared that the tent under the Shugduf was burden enough for one camel; and that the green box of drugs, the saddle-bags, and the provision-sacks, surmounted by Nur�s cot, were amply sufficient for the other. On our part, we bound ourselves to feed the [p.53] Shaykh and his son, supplying them either with raw or with cooked provender, and, upon our return to Meccah from Mount Arafat, to pay the remaining hire with a discretionary present. Hamid then addressed to me flowery praises of the old Badawi. After which, turning to the latter, he exclaimed, �Thou wilt treat these friends well, O Mas�ud the Harbi!� The ancient replied with a dignity that had no pomposity in it,��Even as Abu Shawarib�the Father of Mustachios[FN#6]�behaveth to us, so will we behave to him!� He then arose, bade us be prepared when the departure-gun sounded, saluted us, and stalked out of the room, followed by his son, who, under pretext of dozing, had mentally made an inventory of every article in the room, ourselves especially included. When the Badawin disappeared, Shaykh Hamid shook his head, advising me to give them plenty to eat, and never to allow twenty-four hours to elapse without dipping hand in the same dish with them, in order that the party might always be �Malihin,��on terms of salt.[FN#7] He concluded [p.54] with a copious lecture upon the villainy of Badawin, and on their habit of drinking travellers� water. I was to place the skins on a camel in front, and not behind; to hang them with their mouths carefully tied, and turned upwards, contrary to the general practice; always to keep a good store of liquid, and at night to place it under the safeguard of the tent. In the afternoon, Omar Effendi and others dropped in to take leave. They found me in the midst of preparations, sewing sacks, fitting up a pipe, patching water-bags, and packing medicines. My fellow-traveller had brought me some pencils[FN#8] and a penknife, as �forget-me-nots,� for we were by no means sure of meeting again. He hinted, however, at another escape from the paternal abode, and proposed, if possible, to join the Dromedary-Caravan. Shaykh Hamid said the same, but I saw, by the expression of his face, that his mother and wife would not give him leave from home so soon after his return. Towards evening-time the Barr al-Manakhah became a scene of exceeding confusion. The town of tents lay upon the ground. Camels were being laden, and were roaring under the weight of litters and cots, boxes and baggage. Horses and mules galloped about. Men were rushing wildly in all directions on worldly errands, or hurrying to pay a farewell visit to the Prophet�s Tomb. Women and children sat screaming on the ground, or ran to and fro distracted, or called their vehicles to escape the danger of being crushed. Every now and then a random shot excited all into the belief that the departure-gun had sounded. At times we heard a volley from the robbers� hills, which elicited a general groan, for the pilgrims were still, to use their own phrase, �between fear [p.55] and hope,� and, consequently, still far from �one of the two comforts.[FN#9]� Then would sound the loud �Jhin-Jhin� of the camels� bells, as the stately animals paced away with some grandee�s gilt and emblazoned litter, the sharp plaint of the dromedary, and the loud neighing of excited steeds. About an hour after sunset all our preparations were concluded, save only the Shugduf, at which the boy Mohammed still worked with untiring zeal; he wisely remembered that he had to spend in it the best portion of a week and a half. The evening was hot, we therefore dined outside the house. I was told to repair to the Harim for the Ziyarat al-Wida�a, or the �Farewell Visitation�; but my decided objection to this step was that we were all to part,�how soon!�and when to meet again we knew not. My companions smiled consent, assuring me that the ceremony could be performed as well at a distance as in the temple. Then Shaykh Hamid made me pray a two-bow prayer, and afterwards, facing towards the Harim, to recite this supplication with raised hands: �O Apostle of Allah, we beg Thee to entreat Almighty Allah, that He cut off no Portion of the Good resulting to us, from this Visit to Thee and to Thy Harim! May He cause us to return safe and prosperous to our Birth-places; aid then us in the Progeny he hath given us, and continue to us his Benefits, and make us thankful for our daily Bread! O Allah, let not this be the last of our Visitations to Thy Apostle's Tomb! Yet if Thou summon us before such Blessing, verily in my Death I bear Witness, as in my Life,� (here the forefinger of the right hand is extended, that the members of the body may take part with the tongue and the heart) �that there [p.56] is no god but Allah, One and without Partner, and verily that our Lord Mohammed is His Servant and His Apostle! O Allah, grant us in this World Weal, and in the future Weal, and save us from the torments of Hell-fire! Praise to Thee, O Lord, Lord of Glory, greater than Man can describe! and Peace be upon the Apostle, and Laud to Allah, the Lord of the (three) Worlds.� This concludes, as usual, with the Testification and the Fatihah. Pious men on such an occasion go to the Rauzah, where they strive, if possible, to shed a tear,�a single drop being a sign of acceptance,�give alms to the utmost of their ability, vow piety, repentance, and obedience, and retire overwhelmed with grief, at separating themselves from their Prophet and Intercessor. It is customary, too, before leaving Al-Madinah, to pass at least one night in vigils at the Harim, and for learned men to read through the Koran once before the tomb. Then began the uncomfortable process of paying off little bills. The Eastern creditor always, for divers reasons, waits the last moment before he claims his debt. Shaykh Hamid had frequently hinted at his difficulties; the only means of escape from which, he said, was to rely upon Allah. He had treated me so hospitably, that I could not take back any part of the £5 lent to him at Suez. His three brothers received a dollar or two each, and one or two of his cousins hinted to some effect that such a proceeding would meet with their approbation. The luggage was then carried down, and disposed in packs upon the ground before the house, so as to be ready for loading at a moment�s notice. Many flying parties of travellers had almost started on the high road, and late in the evening came a new report that the body of the Caravan would march about midnight. We sat up till about two A.M., when, having heard no gun, and having seen no camels, we lay down to sleep through the sultry remnant of the hours of darkness. [p.57]Thus, gentle reader, was spent my last night at Al-Madinah. I had reason to congratulate myself upon having passed through the first danger. Meccah is so near the coast, that, in case of detection, the traveller might escape in a few hours to Jeddah, where he would find an English Vice-Consul, protection from the Turkish authorities, and possibly a British cruiser in the harbour. But at Al-Madinah discovery would entail more serious consequences. The next risk to be run was the journey between the two cities, where it would be easy for the local officials quietly to dispose of a suspected person by giving a dollar to a Badawi. [FN#1] The �Tayyarah,� or �Flying Caravan,� is lightly laden, and travels by forced marches. [FN#2] This �Musafahah,� as it is called, is the Arab fashion of shaking hands. They apply the palms of the right hands flat to each other, without squeezing the fingers, and then raise the hand to the forehead. [FN#3] On this occasion I heard three new words: �Kharitah,� used to signify a single trip to Meccah (without return to Al-Madinah), �Ta�arifah,� going out from Meccah to Mount Arafat, and �Tanzilah,� return from Mount Arafat to Meccah. [FN#4] And part of an extra animal which was to carry water for the party. Had we travelled by the Darb al-Sultani, we should have paid 6½ dollars, instead of 10, for each beast. [FN#5] The system of advances, as well as earnest money, is common all over Arabia. In some places, Aden for instance, I have heard of two-thirds the price of a cargo of coffee being required from the purchaser before the seller would undertake to furnish a single bale. [FN#6] Most men of the Shafe�i school clip their mustachios exceedingly short; some clean shave the upper lip, the imperial, and the parts of the beard about the corners of the mouth, and the forepart of the cheeks. I neglected so to do, which soon won for me the epithet recorded above. Arabs are vastly given to �nick-naming God�s creatures�; their habit is the effect of acute observation, and the want of variety in proper names. Sonnini appears not to like having been called the �Father of a nose.� But there is nothing disrespectful in these personal allusions. In Arabia you must be �father� of something, and it is better to be father of a feature, than father of a cooking pot, or father of a strong smell (�Abu-Zirt.�) [FN#7] Salt among the Hindus is considered the essence and preserver of the seas; it was therefore used in their offerings to the gods. The old idea in Europe was, that salt is a body composed of various elements, into which it cannot be resolved by human means: hence, it became the type of an indissoluble tie between individuals. Homer calls salt sacred and divine, and whoever ate it with a stranger was supposed to become his friend. By the Greek authors, as by the Arabs, hospitality and salt are words expressing a kindred idea. When describing the Badawin of Al-Hijaz, I shall have occasion to notice their peculiar notions of the Salt-law. [FN#8] The import of such articles shows the march of progress in Al-Hijaz. During the last generation, schoolmasters used for pencils bits of bar lead beaten to a point. [FN#9] The �two comforts� are success and despair; the latter, according to the Arabs, being a more enviable state of feeling than doubt or hope deferred. [p.58]CHAPTER XXIV. FROM AL-MADINAH TO AL-SUWAYRKIYAH. FOUR roads lead from Al-Madinah to Meccah. The [�]Darb al-Sultani,� or �Sultan�s Highway,� follows the line of coast: this general passage has been minutely described by my exact predecessor. The �Tarik al-Ghabir,� a mountain path, is avoided by the Mahmil and the great Caravans on account of its rugged passes; water abounds along the whole line, but there is not a single village and the Sobh Badawin, who own the soil[,] are inveterate plunderers. The route called �Wady al-Kura� is a favourite with Dromedary Caravans; on this road are two or three small settlements, regular wells, and free passage through the Benu Amr tribe. The Darb al-Sharki, or �Eastern road,� down which I travelled, owes its existence to the piety of the Lady Zubaydah, wife of Harun al-Rashid. That munificent princess dug wells from Baghdad to Al-Madinah, and built, we are told, a wall to direct pilgrims over the shifting sands.[FN#1] There is a fifth road, or rather mountain path, concerning which I can give no information. At eight A.M. on Wednesday, the 26th Zu�l Ka�adah [p.59] (31st August, 1853), as we were sitting at the window of Hamid�s house after our early meal, suddenly appeared, in hottest haste, Mas�ud, our Camel-Shaykh. He was accompanied by his son, a bold boy about fourteen years of age, who fought sturdily about the weight of each package as it was thrown over the camel�s back; and his nephew, an ugly pock-marked lad, too lazy even to quarrel. We were ordered to lose no time in loading; all started into activity, and at nine A.M. I found myself standing opposite the Egyptian Gate, surrounded by my friends, who had accompanied me thus far on foot, to take leave with due honour. After affectionate embraces and parting mementoes, we mounted, the boy Mohammed and I in the litter, and Shaykh Nur in his cot. Then in company with some Turks and Meccans, for Mas�ud owned a string of nine camels, we passed through the little gate near the castle, and shaped our course towards the North. On our right lay the palm-groves, which conceal this part of the city; far to the left rose the domes of Hamzah�s Mosques at the foot of Mount Ohod; and in front a band of road, crowded with motley groups, stretched over a barren stony plain. After an hour�s slow march, bending gradually from North to North-East, we fell into the Nijd highway, and came to a place of renown called Al-Ghadir, or the Basin.[FN#2] This is a depression conducting the drainage of the plain towards the northern hills. The skirts of Ohod still limited the prospect to the left. On the right was the Bir Rashid (Well of Rashid), and the little whitewashed dome of Ali al-Urays, a descendant from Zayn al-Abidin:�the tomb is still a place of Visitation. There we halted and turned to take farewell of the Holy City. All the [p.60] pilgrims dismounted and gazed at the venerable minarets and the Green Dome,�spots upon which their memories would for ever dwell with a fond and yearning interest. Remounting at noon, we crossed a Fiumara which runs, according to my Camel-Shaykh, from North to South; we were therefore emerging from the Madinah basin. The sky began to be clouded, and although the air was still full of Samu[m], cold draughts occasionally poured down from the hills. Arabs fear this �bitter change Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce,� and call that a dangerous climate which is cold in the hot season and hot in the cold. Travelling over a rough and stony path, dotted with thorny Acacias, we arrived about two P.M. at the bed of lava heard of by Burckhardt.[FN#3] The [p.61] aspect of the country was volcanic, abounding in basalts and scoriae, more or less porous: sand veiled the black bed whose present dimensions by no means equal the descriptions of Arabian historians. I made diligent enquiries about the existence of active volcanoes in this part of Al-Hijaz, and heard of none. At five P.M., travelling towards the East, we entered a Bughaz,[FN#4] or Pass, which follows the course of a wide Fiumara, walled in by steep and barren hills,�the portals of a region too wild even for Badawin. The torrent-bed narrowed where the turns were abrupt, and the drift of heavy stones, with a water-mark from six to seven feet [p.62] high, showed that after rains a violent stream runs from East and South-East to West and North-West. The fertilising fluid is close to the surface, evidenced by a spare growth of Acacia, camel-grass, and at some angles of the bed by the Daum, or Theban palm.[FN#5] I remarked what was technically called �Hufrah,� holes dug for water in the sand; and the guide assured me that somewhere near there is a spring flowing from the rocks. After the long and sultry afternoon, beasts of burden began to sink in numbers. The fresh carcases of asses, ponies, and camels dotted the wayside: those that had been allowed to die were abandoned to the foul carrion-birds, the Rakham (vulture), and the yellow Ukab; and all whose throats had been properly cut, were surrounded by troops of Takruri pilgrims. These half-starved wretches cut steaks from the choice portions, and slung them over their shoulders till an opportunity of cooking might arrive. I never saw men more destitute. They carried wooden bowls, which they filled with water by begging; their only weapon was a small knife, tied in a leathern sheath above the elbow; and their costume an old skull-cap, strips of leather like sandals under the feet, and a long dirty shirt, or sometimes a mere rag covering the loins. Some were perfect savages, others had been fine-looking men, broad-shouldered, thin-flanked, and long-limbed; many were lamed by fatigue and by thorns; and looking at most of them, I fancied death depicted in their forms and features. After two hours� slow marching up the Fiumara eastwards, we saw in front of us a wall of rock; and, turning abruptly southwards, we left the bed, and ascended rising ground. Already it was night; an hour, however, elapsed before we saw, at a distance, the twinkling fires, and heard the watch-cries of our camp. It was [p.63] pitched in a hollow, under hills, in excellent order; the Pasha�s pavilion surrounded by his soldiers and guards disposed in tents, with sentinels, regularly posted, protecting the outskirts of the encampment. One of our men, whom we had sent forward, met us on the way, and led us to an open place, where we unloaded the camels, raised our canvas home, lighted fires, and prepared, with supper, for a good night�s rest. Living is simple on such marches. The pouches inside and outside the Shugduf contain provisions and water, with which you supply yourself when inclined. At certain hours of the day, ambulant vendors offer sherbet, lemonade, hot coffee, and water-pipes admirably prepared.[FN#6] Chibuks may be smoked in the litter; but few care to do so during the Samu[m]. The first thing, however, called for at the halting-place is the pipe, and its delightfully soothing influence, followed by a cup of coffee, and a �forty winks� upon the sand, will awaken an appetite not to be roused by other means. How could Waterton, the traveller, abuse a pipe? During the night-halt, provisions are cooked: rice, or Kichri, a mixture of pulse and rice, is eaten with Chutnee and lime-pickle, varied, occasionally, by tough mutton and indigestible goat. We arrived at Ja al-Sharifah at eight P.M., after a march of about twenty-two miles.[FN#7] This halting-place is [p.64] the rendezvous of Caravans: it lies 50° south-east of Al-Madinah, and belongs rather to Nijd than to Al-Hijaz. At three A.M., on Thursday (Sept. 1), we started up at the sound of the departure-gun, struck the tent, loaded the camels, mounted, and found ourselves hurrying through a gloomy pass, in the hills, to secure a good place in the Caravan. This is an object of some importance, as, during the whole journey, marching order must not be broken. We met with a host of minor accidents, camels falling, Shugdufs bumping against one another, and plentiful abuse. Pertinaciously we hurried on till six A.M., at which hour we emerged from the Black Pass. The large crimson sun rose upon us, disclosing, through purple mists, a hollow of coarse yellow gravel, based upon a hard whitish clay. About five miles broad by twelve long, it collects the waters of the high grounds after rain, and distributes the surplus through an exit towards the North-west, a gap in the low undulating hills around. Entering it, we dismounted, prayed, broke our fast, and after half an hour�s halt proceeded to cross its breadth. The appearance of the Caravan was most striking, as it threaded its slow way over the smooth surface of the Khabt (low plain).[FN#8] To judge by the eye, the host was composed of at fewest seven thousand souls, on foot, on horseback, in litters, or bestriding the splendid camels of Syria.[FN#9] There were eight gradations of pilgrims. [p.65] The lowest hobbled with heavy staves. Then came the riders of asses, of camels, and of mules. Respectable men, especially Arabs, were mounted on dromedaries, and the soldiers had horses: a led animal was saddled for every grandee, ready whenever he might wish to leave his litter. Women, children, and invalids of the poorer classes sat upon a �Haml Musattah,��rugs and cloths spread over the two large boxes which form the camel�s load.[FN#10] Many occupied Shibriyahs; a few, Shugdufs, and only the wealthy and the noble rode in Takht-rawan (litters), carried by camels or mules.[FN#11] The morning beams fell brightly upon the glancing arms which surrounded the stripped Mahmil,[FN#12] and upon the scarlet and gilt conveyances of the grandees. Not the least beauty of the spectacle was its wondrous variety of detail: no man was dressed like his neighbour, no camel was caparisoned, no horse was [p.66] clothed in uniform, as it were. And nothing stranger than the contrasts; a band of half-naked Takruri marching with the Pasha�s equipage, and long-capped, bearded Persians conversing with Tarbush�d and shaven Turks. The plain even at an early hour reeked with vapours distilled by the fires of the Samum: about noon, however, the air became cloudy, and nothing of colour remained, save that milky white haze, dull, but glaring withal, which is the prevailing day-tint in these regions. At mid-day we reached a narrowing of the basin, where, from both sides, �Irk,� or low hills, stretch their last spurs into the plain. But after half a mile, it again widened to upwards of two miles. At two P.M. (Friday, Sept. 2), we turned towards the South-west, ascended stony ground, and found ourselves one hour afterwards in a desolate rocky flat, distant about twenty-four miles of unusually winding road from our last station. �Mahattah Ghurab,[FN#13]� or the Raven�s Station, lies 10° south-west from Ja al-Sharifah, in the irregular masses of hill on the frontier of Al-Hijaz, where the highlands of Nijd begin. After pitching the tent, we prepared to recruit our supply of water; for Mas�ud warned me that his camels had not drunk for ninety hours, and that they would soon sink under the privation. The boy Mohammed, mounting a dromedary, set off with the Shaykh and many water-bags, giving me an opportunity of writing out my journal. They did not return home until after nightfall, a delay caused by many adventures. The wells are in a Fiumara, as usual, about two miles distant from the halting-place, and the soldiers, regular as well as irregular, occupied the water and exacted hard coin in exchange for it. The men are not to blame; they would die of starvation but for this resource. The boy Mohammed had been engaged in several quarrels; but after [p.67] snapping his pistol at a Persian pilgrim�s head, he came forth triumphant with two skins of sweetish water, for which we paid ten piastres. He was in his glory. There were many Meccans in the Caravan, among them his elder brother and several friends: the Sharif Zayd had sent, he said, to ask why he did not travel with his compatriots. That evening he drank so copiously of clarified butter, and ate dates mashed with flour and other abominations to such an extent, that at night he prepared to give up the ghost. We passed a pleasant hour or two before sleeping. I began to like the old Shaykh Mas�ud, who, seeing it, entertained me with his genealogy, his battles, and his family affairs. The rest of the party could not prevent expressing contempt when they heard me putting frequent questions about torrents, hills, Badawin, and the directions of places. �Let the Father of Moustachios ask and learn,� said the old man; �he is friendly with the Badawin,[FN#14] and knows better than you all.� This reproof was intended to be bitter as the poet�s satire,� �All fools have still an itching to deride, And fain would be upon the laughing side.� It called forth, however[,] another burst of merriment, for the jeerers remembered my nickname to have belonged to that pestilent heretic, Sa�ud the Wahhabi. On Saturday, the 3rd September, the hateful signal-gun awoke us at one A.M. In Arab travel there is nothing more disagreeable than the Sariyah or night-march, and yet the people are inexorable about it. �Choose early Darkness (daljah) for your Wayfarings,� said the Prophet, �as the Calamities of the Earth (serpents and wild beasts) appear not at Night.� I can scarcely find words to express the weary horrors of the long dark march, during which the hapless traveller, fuming, if a European, with disappointment in his hopes of �seeing the country,� [p.68] is compelled to sit upon the back of a creeping camel. The day-sleep, too, is a kind of lethargy, and it is all but impossible to preserve an appetite during the hours of heat. At half-past five A.M., after drowsily stumbling through hours of outer gloom, we entered a spacious basin at least six miles broad, and limited by a circlet of low hill. It was overgrown with camel-grass and Acacia (Shittim) trees, mere vegetable mummies; in many places the water had left a mark; and here and there the ground was pitted with mud-flakes, the remains of recently dried pools. After an hour�s rapid march we toiled over a rugged ridge, composed of broken and detached blocks of basalt and scoriæ, fantastically piled together, and dotted with thorny trees. Shaykh Mas�ud passed the time in walking to and fro along his line of camels, addressing us with a Khallikum guddam, �to the front (of the litter)!� as we ascended, and a Khallikum wara, �to the rear!� during the descent. It was wonderful to see the animals stepping from block to block with the sagacity of mountaineers; assuring themselves of their forefeet before trusting all their weight to advance. Not a camel fell, either here or on any other ridge: they moaned, however, piteously, for the sudden turns of the path puzzled them; the ascents were painful, the descents were still more so; the rocks were sharp; deep holes yawned between the blocks, and occasionally an Acacia caught the Shugduf, almost overthrowing the hapless bearer by the suddenness and the tenacity of its clutch. This passage took place during daylight. But we had many at night, which I shall neither forget nor describe. Descending the ridge, we entered another hill-encircled basin of gravel and clay. In many places basalt in piles and crumbling strata of hornblende schiste, disposed edgeways, green within, and without blackened by sun and rain, cropped out of the ground. At half-past ten we [p.69] found ourselves in an �Acacia-barren,� one of the things which pilgrims dread. Here Shugdufs are bodily pulled off the camel�s back and broken upon the hard ground; the animals drop upon their knees, the whole line is deranged, and every one, losing temper, attacks his Moslem brother. The road was flanked on the left by an iron wall of black basalt. Noon brought us to another ridge, whence we descended into a second wooded basin surrounded by hills. Here the air was filled with those pillars of sand so graphically described by Abyssinian Bruce. They scudded on the wings of the whirlwind over the plain,�huge yellow shafts, with lofty heads, horizontally bent backwards, in the form of clouds; and on more than one occasion camels were thrown down by them. It required little stretch of fancy to enter into the Arabs� superstition. These sand-columns are supposed to be Jinnis of the Waste, which cannot be caught, a notion arising from the fitful movements of the electrical wind-eddy that raises them, and as they advance, the pious Moslem stretches out his finger, exclaiming, �Iron! O thou ill-omened one[FN#15]!� During the forenoon we were troubled by the Samum, which, instead of promoting perspiration, chokes up and hardens the skin. The Arabs complain greatly of its violence on this line of road. Here I first remarked the difficulty with which the Badawin bear thirst. Ya Latif,��O Merciful!� (Lord),�they exclaimed at times; and yet they behaved like men.[FN#16] I had ordered them to place the [p.70] water-camel in front, so as to exercise due supervision. Shaykh Mas�ud and his son made only an occasional reference to the skins. But his nephew, a short, thin, pock-marked lad of eighteen, whose black skin and woolly head suggested the idea of a semi-African and ignoble origin, was always drinking; except when he climbed the camel�s back, and, dozing upon the damp load, forgot his thirst. In vain we ordered, we taunted, and we abused him: he would drink, he would sleep, but he would not work. At one P.M. we crossed a Fiumara; and an hour afterwards we pursued the course of a second. Mas�ud called this the Wady al-Khunak, and assured me that it runs from the East and the South-east in a North and North-west direction, to the Madinah plain. Early in the afternoon we reached a diminutive flat, on the Fiumara bank. Beyond it lies a Mahjar or stony ground, black as usual in Al-Hijaz, and over its length lay the road, white with dust and with the sand deposited by the camels� feet. Having arrived before the Pasha, we did not know where to pitch; many opining that the Caravan would traverse the Mahjar and halt beyond it. We soon alighted, however, pitched the tent under a burning sun, and were imitated by the rest of the party. Mas�ud called the place Hijriyah. According to my computation, it is twenty-five miles from Ghurab, and its direction is South-East twenty-two degrees. Late in the afternoon the boy Mohammed started with a dromedary to procure water from the higher part of the Fiumara. Here are some wells, still called Bir Harun, after the great Caliph. The youth returned soon with two bags filled at an expense of nine piastres. This being the 28th Zu�l Ka�adah, many pilgrims busied themselves [p.71] rather fruitlessly with endeavours to sight the crescent moon. They failed; but we were consoled by seeing through a gap in the Western hills a heavy cloud discharge its blessed load, and a cool night was the result. We loitered on Sunday, the 4th September, at Al-Hijriyah, although the Shaykh forewarned us of a long march. But there is a kind of discipline in these great Caravans. A gun[FN#17] sounds the order to strike the tents, and a second bids you move off with all speed. There are short halts, of half an hour each, at dawn, noon, the afternoon, and sunset, for devotional purposes, and these are regulated by a cannon or a culverin. At such times the Syrian and Persian servants, who are admirably expert in their calling, pitch the large green tents, with gilt crescents, for the dignitaries and their harims. The last resting-place is known by the hurrying forward of these �Farrash,� or tent �Lascars,� who are determined to be the first on the ground and at the well. A discharge of three guns denotes the station, and when the Caravan moves by night a single cannon sounds three or four halts at irregular intervals. The principal officers were the Emir Hajj, one Ashgar Ali Pasha, a veteran of whom my companions spoke slightingly, because he had been the slave of a slave, probably the pipe-bearer of some grandee who in his youth had been pipe-bearer to some other grandee. Under him was a Wakil, or lieutenant, who managed the executive. The Emir al-Surrah�called simply Al-Surrah, or the Purse�had charge of the Caravan-treasure, and of remittances to the Holy Cities. And lastly there was a commander of the [p.72] forces (Bashat al-Askar): his host consisted of about a thousand Irregular horsemen, Bash-Buzuks, half bandits, half soldiers, each habited and armed after his own fashion, exceedingly dirty, picturesque-looking, brave, and in such a country of no use whatever. Leaving Al-Hijriyah at seven A.M., we passed over the grim stone-field by a detestable footpath, and at nine o�clock struck into a broad Fiumara, which runs from the East towards the North-West. Its sandy bed is overgrown with Acacia, the Senna plant, different species of Euphorbiae, the wild Capparis, and the Daum Palm. Up this line we travelled the whole day. About six P.M., we came upon a basin at least twelve miles broad, which absorbs the water of the adjacent hills. Accustomed as I have been to mirage, a long thin line of salt efflorescence appearing at some distance on the plain below us, when the shades of evening invested the view, completely deceived me. Even the Arabs were divided in opinion, some thinking it was the effects of the rain which fell the day before: others were more acute. It is said that beasts are never deceived by the mirage, and this, as far as my experience goes, is correct. May not the reason be that most of them know the vicinity of water rather by smell than by sight? Upon the horizon beyond the plain rose dark, fort-like masses of rock which I mistook for buildings, the more readily as the Shaykh had warned me that we were approaching a populous place. At last descending a long steep hill, we entered upon the level ground, and discovered our error by the crunching sound of the camel[s�] feet upon large curling flakes of nitrous salt overlying caked mud.[FN#18] Those civilised birds, the kite and the crow, warned us that we were in the vicinity of man. It was not, however, before eleven P.M. that we entered the confines of Al-Suwayrkiyah. The fact was [p.73] made patent to us by the stumbling and the falling of our dromedaries over the little ridges of dried clay disposed in squares upon the fields. There were other obstacles, such as garden walls, wells, and hovels, so that midnight had sped before our weary camels reached the resting-place. A rumour that we were to halt here the next day, made us think lightly of present troubles; it proved, however, to be false. During the last four days I attentively observed the general face of the country. This line is a succession of low plains and basins, here quasi-circular, there irregularly oblong, surrounded by rolling hills and cut by Fiumaras which pass through the higher ground. The basins are divided by ridges and flats of basalt and greenstone averaging from one hundred to two hundred feet in height. The general form is a huge prism; sometimes they are table-topped. From Al-Madinah to Al-Suwayrkiyah the low beds of sandy Fiumaras abound. From Al-Suwayrkiyah to Al-Zaribah, their place is taken by �Ghadir,� or hollows in which water stagnates. And beyond Al-Zaribah the traveller enters a region of water-courses tending West and South-West The versant is generally from the East and South-East towards the West and North-West. Water obtained by digging is good where rain is fresh in the Fiumaras; saltish, so as to taste at first unnaturally sweet, in the plains; and bitter in the basins and lowlands where nitre effloresces and rain has had time to become tainted. The landward faces of the hills are disposed at a sloping angle, contrasting strongly with the perpendicularity of their seaward sides, and I found no inner range corresponding with, and parallel to, the maritime chain. Nowhere had I seen a land in which Earth�s anatomy lies so barren, or one richer in volcanic and primary formations.[FN#19] Especially [p.74] towards the South, the hills were abrupt and highly vertical, with black and barren flanks, ribbed with furrows and fissures, with wide and formidable precipices and castellated summits like the work of man. The predominant formation was basalt, called the Arabs� Hajar Jahannam, or Hell-stone; here and there it is porous and cellular; in some places compact and black; and in others coarse and gritty, of a tarry colour, and when fractured shining with bright points. Hornblende is common at Al-Madinah and throughout this part of Al-Hijaz: it crops out of the ground edgeways, black and brittle. Greenstone, diorite, and actinolite are found, though not so abundantly as those above mentioned. The granites, called in Arabic Suwan,[FN#20] abound. Some are large-grained, of a pink colour, and appear in blocks, which, flaking off under the influence of the atmosphere, form ooidal blocks and boulders piled in irregular heaps. Others are grey and compact enough to take a high polish when cut. The syenite is generally coarse, although there is occasionally found a rich red variety of that stone. I did not see eurite or euritic porphyry except in small pieces, and the same may be said of the petrosilex and the milky and waxy quartz.[FN#21] In some parts, particularly between Yambu� and Al-Madinah, there is an abundance of tawny [p.75] yellow gneiss markedly stratified. The transition formations are represented by a fine calcareous sandstone of a bright ochre colour: it is used at Meccah to adorn the exteriors of houses, bands of this stone being here and there inserted into the courses of masonry. There is also a small admixture of the greenish sandstone which abounds at Aden. The secondary formation is represented by a fine limestone, in some places almost fit for the purposes of lithography, and a coarse gypsum often of a tufaceous nature. For the superficial accumulations of the country, I may refer the reader to any description of the Desert between Cairo and Suez. [FN#1] The distance from Baghdad to Al-Madinah is 180 parasangs, according to �Abd al-Karim: �Voyage de l�Inde, a la Mecque;� translated by M. Langles, Paris, 1797. This book is a disappointment, as it describes everything except Al-Madinah and Meccah: these gaps are filled up by the translator with the erroneous descriptions of other authors, not eye-witnesses. [FN#2] Here, it is believed, was fought the battle of Buas, celebrated in the pagan days of Al-Madinah (A.D. 615). Our dictionaries translate �Ghadir� by �pool� or �stagnant water.� Here it is applied to places where water stands for a short time after rain. [FN#3] Travels in Arabia, vol. 2, p, 217. The Swiss traveller was prevented by sickness from visiting it. The �Jazb al-Kulub� affords the following account of a celebrated eruption, beginning on the Salkh (last day) of Jamadi al-Awwal, and ending on the evening of the third of Jamadi al-Akhir, A.H. 654. Terrible earthquakes, accompanied by a thundering noise, shook the town; from fourteen to eighteen were observed each night. On the third of Jamadi al-Akhir, after the Isha prayers, a fire burst out in the direction of Al-Hijaz (eastward); it resembled a vast city with a turretted and battlemental fort, in which men appeared drawing the flame about, as it were, whilst it roared, burned, and melted like a sea everything that came in its way. Presently red and bluish streams, bursting from it, ran close to Al-Madinah; and, at the same time, the city was fanned by a cooling zephyr from the same direction. Al-Kistlani, an eye-witness, asserts that �the brilliant light of the volcano made the face of the country as bright as day; and the interior of the Harim was as if the sun shone upon it, so that men worked and required nought of the sun and moon (the latter of which was also eclipsed?).� Several saw the light at Meccah, at Tayma (in Nijd, six days� journey from Al-Madinah), and at Busra, of Syria, reminding men of the Prophet�s saying, �A fire shall burst forth from the direction of Al-Hijaz; its light shall make visible the necks of the camels at Busra.� Historians relate that the length of the stream was four parasangs (from fourteen to sixteen miles), its breadth four miles (56? to the degree), and its depth about nine feet. It flowed like a torrent with the waves of a sea; the rocks, melted by its heat, stood up as a wall, and, for a time, it prevented the passage of Badawin, who, coming from that direction, used to annoy the citizens. Jamal Matari, one of the historians of Al-Madinah, relates that the flames, which destroyed the stones, spared the trees; and he asserts that some men, sent by the governor to inspect the fire, felt no heat; also that the feathers of an arrow shot into it were burned whilst the shaft remained whole. This he attributes to the sanctity of the trees within the Harim. On the contrary, Al-Kistlani asserts the fire to have been so vehement that no one could approach within two arrow-flights, and that it melted the outer half of a rock beyond the limits of the sanctuary, leaving the inner parts unscathed. The Kazi, the Governor, and the citizens engaged in devotional exercises, and during the whole length of the Thursday and the Friday nights, all, even the women and children, with bare heads wept round the Prophet�s tomb. Then the lava current turned northwards. (I remarked on the way to Ohod signs of a lava-field.) This current ran, according to some, three entire months. Al-Kistlani dates its beginning on Friday, 6 Jamadi al-Akhir, and its cessation on Sunday, 27 Rajab: in this period of fifty-two days he includes, it is supposed, the length of its extreme heat. That same year (A.H. 654) is infamous in Al-Islam for other portents, such as the inundation of Baghdad by the Tigris, and the burning of the Prophet�s Mosque. In the next year first appeared the Tartars, who slew Al-Mu�tasim Bi�llah, the Caliph, massacred the Moslems during more than a month, destroyed their books, monuments, and tombs, and stabled their war-steeds in the Mustansariyah College. [FN#4] In this part of Al-Hijaz they have many names for a pass:�Nakb, Saghrah, and Mazik are those best known. [FN#5] This is the palm, capped with large fan-shaped leaves, described by every traveller in Egypt and in the nearer East. [FN#6] The charge for a cup of coffee is one piastre and a half. A pipe-bearer will engage himself for about £1 per mensem: he is always a veteran smoker, and, in these regions, it is an axiom that the flavour of your pipe mainly depends upon the filler. For convenience the Persian Kaliun is generally used. [FN#7] A day�s journey in Arabia is generally reckoned at twenty-four or twenty-five Arab miles. Abulfeda leaves the distance of a Marhalah (or Manzil, a station) undetermined. Al-Idrisi reckons it at thirty miles, but speaks of short as well as long marches. The common literary measures of length are these:�3 Kadam (man�s foot) = 1 Khatwah (pace): 1000 paces = 1 Mil (mile); 3 miles = 1 Farsakh (parasang); and 4 parasangs = 1 Barid or post. The �Burhan i Katia� gives the table thus:�24 finger breadths (or 6 breadths of the clenched hand, from 20 to 24 inches!) = 1 Gaz or yard; 1000 yards = 1 mile; 3 miles = 1 parasang. Some call the four thousand yards measure a Kuroh (the Indian Cos), which, however, is sometimes less by 1000 Gaz. The only ideas of distance known to the Badawi of Al-Hijaz are the fanciful Sa�at or hour, and the uncertain Manzil or halt: the former varies from 2 to 3½ miles, the latter from 15 to 25. [FN#8] �Khabt� is a low plain; �Midan,� �Fayhah,� or �Sath,� a plain generally; and �Batha,� a low, sandy flat. [FN#9] In Burckhardt�s day there were 5,000 souls and 15,000 camels. Capt. Sadlier, who travelled during the war (1819), found the number reduced to 500. The extent of this Caravan has been enormously exaggerated in Europe. I have heard of 15,000, and even of 20,000 men. I include in the 7,000 about 1,200 Persians. They are no longer placed, as Abd al-Karim relates, in the rear of the Caravan, or post of danger. [FN#10] Lane has accurately described this article: in the Hijaz it is sometimes made to resemble a little tent. [FN#11] The vehicle mainly regulates the expense, as it evidences a man�s means. I have heard of a husband and wife leaving Alexandria with three months� provision and the sum of £5. They would mount a camel, lodge in public buildings when possible, probably be reduced to beggary, and possibly starve upon the road. On the other hand the minimum expenditure,�for necessaries, not donations and luxuries,�of a man who rides in a Takht-rawan from Damascus and back, would be about £1,200. [FN#12] On the line of march the Mahmil, stripped of its embroidered cover, is carried on camel-back, a mere framewood. Even the gilt silver balls and crescent are exchanged for similar articles in brass. [FN#13] Mahattah is a spot where luggage is taken down, i.e., a station. By some Hijazis it is used in the sense of a halting-place, where you spend an hour or two. [FN#14] �Khalik ma al-Badu� is a favourite complimentary saying, among this people, and means that you are no greasy burgher. [FN#15] Even Europeans, in popular parlance, call them �devils.� [FN#16] The Eastern Arabs allay the torments of thirst by a spoonful of clarified butter, carried on journeys in a leathern bottle. Every European traveller has some recipe of his own. One chews a musket-bullet or a small stone. A second smears his legs with butter. Another eats a crust of dry bread, which exacerbates the torments, and afterwards brings relief. A fourth throws water over his face and hands or his legs and feet; a fifth smokes, and a sixth turns his dorsal region (raising his coat-tail) to the fire. I have always found that the only remedy is to be patient and not to talk. The more you drink, the more you require to drink�water or strong waters. But after the first two hours� abstinence you have mastered the overpowering feeling of thirst, and then to refrain is easy. [FN#17] We carried two small brass guns, which, on the line of march, were dismounted and placed upon camels. At the halt they were restored to their carriages. The Badawin think much of these harmless articles, to which I have seen a gunner apply a match thrice before he could induce a discharge. In a �moral� point of view, therefore, they are far more valuable than our twelve-pounders. [FN#18] Hereabouts the Arabs call these places �Bahr milh� or �Sea of Salt�; in other regions �Bahr bila ma,� or �Waterless Sea.� [FN#19] Being but little read in geology, I submitted, after my return to Bombay, a few specimens collected on the way, to a learned friend, Dr. Carter, Secretary to the Bombay branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. His name is a guarantee of accuracy. [FN#20] The Arabic language has a copious terminology for the mineral as well as the botanical productions of the country: with little alteration it might be made to express all the requirements of our modern geology. [FN#21] NOTE TO THIRD EDITION.�This country may have contained gold; but the superficial formation has long been exhausted. At Cairo I washed some sand brought from the eastern shore of the Red Sea, north of Al-Wijh, and found it worth my while. I had a plan for working the diggings, but H.B.M.�s Consul, Dr. Walne, opined that �gold was becoming too plentiful,� and would not assist me. This wise saying has since then been repeated to me by men who ought to have known better than Dr. Walne. [p.76]CHAPTER XXV. THE BADAWIN OF AL-HIJAZ. THE Arab may be divided into three races�a classification which agrees equally well with genesitic genealogy, the traditions of the country, and the observations of modern physiologists.[FN#1] [p.77]The first race, indigens or autochthones, are those sub-Caucasian tribes which may still be met with in the province of Mahrah, and generally along the coast between Maskat and Hazramaut. [FN#2] The Mahrah, the Janabah, and the Gara especially show a low development, for which hardship and privation alone will not satisfactorily account.[FN#3] These are Arab al-Aribah for whose inferiority oriental fable accounts as usual by thaumaturgy. The principal advenæ are the Noachians, a great Chaldaean or Mesopotamian tribe which entered Arabia about [p.78] 2200 A.C., and by slow and gradual encroachments drove before them the ancient owners and seized the happier lands of the Peninsula. The great Anzah and the Nijdi families are types of this race, which is purely Caucasian, and shows a highly nervous temperament, together with those signs of �blood� which distinguish even the lower animals, the horse and the camel, the greyhound and the goat of Arabia. These advenae would correspond with the Arab al-Mutarribah or Arabicized Arabs of the eastern historians.[FN#4] The third family, an ancient and a noble race dating from A.C. 1900, and typified in history by Ishmael, still occupies the so-called Sinaitic Peninsula. These Arabs, however, do not, and never did, extend beyond the limits of the mountains, where, still dwelling in the presence of their brethren, they retain all the wild customs and the untamable spirit of their forefathers. They are distinguished from the pure stock by an admixture of Egyptian blood,[FN#5] [p.79] and by preserving the ancient characteristics of the Nilotic family. The Ishmaelities are sub-Caucasian, and are denoted in history as the Arab al-Mustarribah, the insititious or half-caste Arab. Oriental ethnography, which, like most Eastern sciences, luxuriates in nomenclative distinction, recognises a fourth race under the name of Arab al-Mustajamah. These �barbarized Arabs� are now represented by such a population as that of Meccah. That Aus and Khazraj, the Himyaritic tribes which emigrated to Al-Hijaz, mixed with the Amalikah, the Jurham, and the Katirah, also races from Al-Yaman, and with the Hebrews, a northern branch of the Semitic family, we have ample historical evidence. And they who know how immutable is race in the Desert, will scarcely doubt that the Badawi of Al-Hijaz preserves in purity the blood transmitted to him by his ancestors.[FN#6] [p.80] I will not apologise for entering into details concerning the personale of the Badawin[FN#7]; a precise physical portrait of race, it has justly been remarked, is the sole deficiency in the pages of Bruce and of Burckhardt. The temperament of the Hijazi is not unfrequently the pure nervous, as the height of the forehead and the fine texture of the hair prove. Sometimes the bilious, and rarely the sanguine, elements predominate; the lymphatic I never saw. He has large nervous centres, and well-formed spine and brain, a conformation favourable to longevity. Bartema well describes his colour as a �dark leonine�; it varies from the deepest Spanish to a chocolate hue, and its varieties are attributed by the people to blood. The skin is hard, dry, and soon wrinkled by exposure. The xanthous complexion is rare, though not unknown in cities, but the leucous does not exist. The crinal hair is frequently lightened by bleaching, and the pilar is browner than the crinal. The voice is strong and clear, but rather barytone than bass: in anger it becomes a shrill chattering like the cry of a wild animal. The look of a chief is dignified and grave even to pensiveness; the �respectable man�s� is self-sufficient and fierce; the lower orders look ferocious, stupid, and inquisitive. Yet there is not much difference in this point between men of the same tribe, who have similar pursuits which engender [p.81] similar passions. Expression is the grand diversifier of appearance among civilised people: in the Desert it knows few varieties. The Badawi cranium is small, ooidal, long, high, narrow, and remarkable in the occiput for the development of Gall�s second propensity: the crown slopes upwards towards the region of firmness, which is elevated; whilst the sides are flat to a fault. The hair, exposed to sun, wind, and rain, acquires a coarseness not natural to it[FN#8]: worn in Kurun[FN#9]�ragged elf-locks,�hanging down to the breast, or shaved in the form Shushah, a skull-cap of hair, nothing can be wilder than its appearance. The face is made to be a long oval, but want of flesh detracts from its regularity. The forehead is high, broad, and retreating: the upper portion is moderately developed; but nothing can be finer than the lower brow, and the frontal sinuses stand out, indicating bodily strength and activity of character. The temporal fossa are deep, the bones are salient, and the elevated zygomata combined with the �lantern-jaw,� often give a �death�s-head� appearance to the face. The eyebrows are long, bushy, and crooked, broken, as it were, at the angle where �Order� is supposed to be, and bent in sign of thoughtfulness. Most popular writers, following De Page,[FN#10] describe the Arab eye as large, ardent, [p.82] and black. The Badawi of the Hijaz, and indeed the race generally, has a small eye, round, restless, deep-set, and fiery, denoting keen inspection with an ardent temperament and an impassioned character. Its colour is dark brown or green-brown, and the pupil is often speckled. The habit of pursing up the skin below the orbits, and half closing the lids to exclude glare, plants the outer angles with premature crows�-feet. Another peculiarity is the sudden way in which the eye opens, especially under excitement. This, combined with its fixity of glance, forms an expression now of lively fierceness, then of exceeding sternness; whilst the narrow space between the orbits impresses the countenance in repose with an intelligence not destitute of cunning. As a general rule, however, the expression of the Badawi face is rather dignity than that cunning for which the Semitic race is celebrated, and there are lines about the mouth in variance with the stern or the fierce look of the brow. The ears are like those of Arab horses, small, well-cut, �castey,� and elaborate, with many elevations and depressions. The nose is pronounced, generally aquiline, but sometimes straight like those Greek statues which have been treated as prodigious exaggerations of the facial angle. For the most part, it is a well-made feature with delicate nostrils, below which the septum appears: in anger they swell and open like a blood mare�s. I have, however, seen, in not a few instances, pert and offensive �pugs.� Deep furrows descend from the wings of the nose, showing an uncertain temper, now too grave, then too gay. The mouth is irregular. The lips are either bordes, denoting rudeness and want of taste, or they form a mere line. In the latter case there is an appearance of undue development in the upper portion of the countenance, especially when the jaws are ascetically thin, and the chin weakly retreats. The latter [p.83] feature, however, is generally well and strongly made. The teeth, as usual among Orientals, are white, even, short and broad�indications of strength. Some tribes trim their mustaches according to the �Sunnat�; the Shafe�i often shave them, and many allow them to hang Persian-like over the lips. The beard is represented by two tangled tufts upon the chin; where whisker should be, the place is either bare or is thinly covered with straggling pile. The Badawin of Al-Hijaz are short men, about the height of the Indians near Bombay, but weighing on an average a stone more. As usual in this stage of society, stature varies little; you rarely see a giant, and scarcely ever a dwarf. Deformity is checked by the Spartan restraint upon population, and no weakly infant can live through a Badawi life. The figure, though spare, is square and well knit; fulness of limb seldom appears but about spring, when milk abounds: I have seen two or three muscular figures, but never a fat man. The neck is sinewy, the chest broad, the flank thin, and the stomach in-drawn; the legs, though fleshless, are well made, especially when the knee and ankle are not bowed by too early riding. The shins do not bend cucumber-like to the front as in the African race.[FN#11] The arms are thin, with muscles like whipcords, and the hands and feet are, in point of size and delicacy, a link between Europe and India. As in the Celt, the Arab thumb is remarkably long, extending almost to the first joint of the index,[FN#12] which, with its easy rotation, makes it a perfect prehensile instrument: the palm also is fleshless, small-boned, and [p.84] elastic. With his small active figure, it is not strange that the wildest Badawi gait should be pleasing; he neither unfits himself for walking, nor distorts his ankles by turning out his toes according to the farcical rule of fashion, and his shoulders are not dressed like a drill-sergeant�s, to throw all the weight of the body upon the heels. Yet there is no slouch in his walk; it is light and springy, and errs only in one point, sometimes becoming a strut. Such is the Badawi, and such he has been for ages. The national type has been preserved by systematic intermarriage. The wild men do not refuse their daughters to a stranger, but the son-in-law would be forced to settle among them, and this life, which has its charms for a while, ends in becoming wearisome. Here no evil results are anticipated from the union of first cousins, and the experience of ages and of a mighty nation may be trusted. Every Badawi has a right to marry his father�s brother�s daughter before she is given to a stranger; hence �cousin� (Bint Amm) in polite phrase signifies a �wife.[FN#13]� Our physiologists[FN#14] adduce the Sangre Azul of Spain and the case of the lower animals to prove that degeneracy inevitably follows �breeding-in.[FN#15]� [p.85] Either they have theorised from insufficient facts, or civilisation and artificial living exercise some peculiar influence, or Arabia is a solitary exception to a general rule. The fact which I have mentioned is patent to every Eastern traveller. After this long description, the reader will perceive with pleasure that we are approaching an interesting theme, the first question of mankind to the wanderer��What are the women like?� Truth compels me to state that the women of the Hijazi Badawin are by no means comely. Although the Benu Amur boast of some pretty girls, yet they are far inferior to the high-bosomed beauties of Nijd. And I warn all men that if they run to Al-Hijaz in search of the charming face which appears in my sketch-book as �a Badawi girl,� they will be bitterly disappointed: the dress was Arab, but it was worn by a fairy of the West. The Hijazi woman�s eyes are fierce, her features harsh, and her face haggard; like all people of the South, she soon fades, and in old age her appearance is truly witch-like. Withered crones abound in the camps, where old men are seldom seen. The sword and the sun are fatal to �A green old age, unconscious of decay.� The manners of the Badawin are free and simple: �vulgarity� and affectation, awkwardness and embarrassment, are weeds of civilised growth, unknown to the People of the Desert.[FN#16] Yet their manners are sometimes dashed with a strange ceremoniousness. When two frends meet, they either embrace or both extend the right hands, clapping palm to palm; their foreheads are either pressed together, or their heads are moved from side to side, whilst for minutes together mutual inquiries are made and answered. It is a breach of decorum, even when eating, to turn the back upon a person, and if a Badawi [p.86] does it, he intends an insult. When a man prepares coffee, he drinks the first cup: the Sharbat Kajari of the Persians, and the Sulaymani of Egypt,[FN#17] render this precaution necessary. As a friend approaches the camp,�it is not done to strangers for fear of startling them,�those who catch sight of him shout out his name, and gallop up saluting with lances or firing matchlocks in the air. This is the well-known La�ab al-Barut, or gunpowder play. Badawin are generally polite in language, but in anger temper is soon shown, and, although life be in peril, the foulest epithets�dog, drunkard, liar, and infidel�are discharged like pistol-shots by both disputants. The best character of the Badawi is a truly noble compound of determination, gentleness, and generosity. Usually they are a mixture of worldly cunning and great simplicity, sensitive to touchiness, good-tempered souls, solemn and dignified withal, fond of a jest, yet of a grave turn of mind, easily managed by a laugh and a soft word, and placable after passion, though madly revengeful after injury. It has been sarcastically said of the Benu-Harb that there is not a man �Que s�il ne violoit, voloit, tuoit, bruloit Ne fut assez bonne personne.� The reader will inquire, like the critics of a certain modern humourist, how the fabric of society can be supported by such material. In the first place, it is a kind of societe leonine, in which the fiercest, the strongest, and the craftiest obtains complete mastery over his fellows, and this gives a [p.87] keystone to the arch. Secondly, there is the terrible blood-feud, which even the most reckless fear for their posterity. And, thirdly, though the revealed law of the Koran, being insufficient for the Desert, is openly disregarded, the immemorial customs of the Kazi al-Arab (the Judge of the Arabs)[FN#18] form a system stringent in the extreme. The valour of the Badawi is fitful and uncertain. Man is by nature an animal of prey, educated by the complicated relations of society, but readily relapsing into his old habits. Ravenous and sanguinary propensities grow apace in the Desert, but for the same reason the recklessness of civilisation is unknown there. Savages and semi-barbarians are always cautious, because they have nothing valuable but their lives and limbs. The civilised man, on the contrary, has a hundred wants or hopes or aims, without which existence has for him no charms. Arab ideas of bravery do not prepossess us. Their romances, full of foolhardy feats and impossible exploits, might charm for a time, but would not become the standard works of a really fighting people.[FN#19] Nor would a truly valorous race admire [p.88] the cautious freebooters who safely fire down upon Caravans from their eyries. Arab wars, too, are a succession of skirmishes, in which five hundred men will retreat after losing a dozen of their number. In this partisan-fighting the first charge secures a victory, and the vanquished fly till covered by the shades of night. Then come cries and taunts of women, deep oaths, wild poetry, excitement, and reprisals, which will probably end in the flight of the former victor. When peace is to be made, both parties count up their dead, and the usual blood-money is paid for excess on either side. Generally, however, the feud endures till, all becoming weary of it, some great man, as the Sharif of Meccah, is called upon to settle the terms of a treaty, which is nothing but an armistice. After a few months� peace, a glance or a word will draw blood, for these hates are old growths, and new dissensions easily shoot up from them. But, contemptible though their battles be, the Badawin are not cowards. The habit of danger in raids and blood-feuds, the continual uncertainty of existence, the desert, the chase, the hard life and exposure to the air, blunting the nervous system; the presence and the practice of weapons, horsemanship, sharpshooting, and martial exercises, habituate them to look death in the face like men, and powerful motives will make them heroes. The English, it is said, fight willingly for liberty, our neighbours for glory; the Spaniard fights, or rather fought, for religion and the Pundonor; and the Irishman fights for the fun of fighting. Gain and revenge draw the Arab�s sword; yet then he uses it fitfully enough, without the gay gallantry of the [p.89] French or the persistent stay of the Anglo-Saxon. To become desperate he must have the all-powerful stimulants of honour and of fanaticism. Frenzied by the insults of his women, or by the fear of being branded as a coward, he is capable of any mad deed.[FN#20] And the obstinacy produced by strong religious impressions gives a steadfastness to his spirit unknown to mere enthusiasm. The history of the Badawi tells this plainly. Some unobserving travellers, indeed, have mistaken his exceeding cautiousness for stark cowardice. The incongruity is easily read by one who understands the principles of Badawi warfare; with them, as amongst the Red Indians, one death dims a victory. And though reckless when their passions are thoroughly aroused, though heedless of danger when the voice of honour calls them, the Badawin will not sacrifice themselves for light motives. Besides, they have, as has been said, another and a potent incentive to cautiousness. Whenever peace is concluded, they must pay for victory. There are two things which tend to soften the ferocity of Badawi life. These are, in the first place, intercourse with citizens, who frequently visit and entrust their children to the people of the Black tents ; and, secondly, the social position of the women. The Rev. Charles Robertson, author of a certain [p.90] �Lecture on Poetry, addressed to Working Men,� asserts that Passion became Love under the influence of Christianity, and that the idea of a Virgin Mother spread over the sex a sanctity unknown to the poetry or to the philosophy of Greece and Rome.[FN#21] Passing over the objections of deified Eros and Immortal Psyche, and of the Virgin Mother�symbol of moral purity�being common to every old and material faith,[FN#22] I believe that all the noble tribes of savages display the principle. Thus we might expect to find, wherever the fancy, the imagination, and the ideality are strong, some traces of a sentiment innate in the human organisation. It exists, says Mr. Catlin, amongst the North American Indians, and even the Gallas and the Somal of Africa are not wholly destitute of it. But when the barbarian becomes a semi-barbarian, as are the most polished Orientals, or as were the classical authors of Greece and Rome, then women fall from their proper place in society, become mere articles of luxury, and sink into the lowest moral condition. In the next stage, �civilisation,� they rise again to be �highly accomplished,� and not a little frivolous. [p.91]Miss Martineau, when travelling through Egypt, once visited a harim, and there found, among many things, especially in ignorance of books and of book-making, materials for a heart-broken wail over the degradation of her sex. The learned lady indulges, too, in sundry strong and unsavoury comparisons between the harim and certain haunts of vice in Europe. On the other hand, male travellers generally speak lovingly of the harim. Sonnini, no admirer of Egypt, expatiates on �the generous virtues, the examples of magnanimity and affectionate attachment, the sentiments ardent, yet gentle, forming a delightful unison with personal charms in the harims of the Mamluks.� As usual, the truth lies somewhere between the two extremes. Human nature, all the world over, differs but in degree. Everywhere women may be �capricious, coy, and hard to please� in common conjunctures: in the hour of need they will display devoted heroism. Any chronicler of the Afghan war will bear witness that warm hearts, noble sentiments, and an overflowing kindness to the poor, the weak, and the unhappy are found even in a harim. Europe now knows that the Moslem husband provides separate apartments and a distinct establishment for each of his wives, unless, as sometimes happens, one be an old woman and the other a child. And, confessing that envy, hatred, and malice often flourish in polygamy, the Moslem asks, Is monogamy open to no objections? As far as my limited observations go, polyandry is the only state of society in which jealousy and quarrels about the sex are the exception and not the rule of life. In quality of doctor I have seen a little and heard much of the harim. It often resembles a European home composed of a man, his wife, and his mother. And I have seen in the West many a �happy fireside� fitter to make Miss Martineau�s heart ache than any harim in Grand Cairo. [p.92] Were it not evident that the spiritualising of sexuality by sentiment, of propensity by imagination, is universal among the highest orders of mankind,�c�est l�etoffe de la nature que l�imagination a brodee, says Voltaire,�I should attribute the origin of �love� to the influence of the Arabs� poetry and chivalry upon European ideas rather than to mediaeval Christianity. Certain �Fathers of the Church,� it must be remembered, did not believe that women have souls. The Moslems never went so far. In nomad life, tribes often meet for a time, live together whilst pasturage lasts, and then separate perhaps for a generation. Under such circumstances, youths who hold with the Italian that �Perduto e tutto il tempo Che in amor non si spende,� will lose heart to maidens, whom possibly, by the laws of the clan, they may not marry,[FN#23] and the light o� love will fly her home. The fugitives must brave every danger, for revenge, at all times the Badawi�s idol, now becomes the lodestar of his existence. But the Arab lover will dare all consequences. �Men have died and the worms have eaten them, but not for love,� may be true in the West: it is false in the East. This is attested in every tale where love, and not ambition, is the groundwork of the narrative.[FN#24] And nothing can be more tender, more [p.93] pathetic than the use made of these separations and long absences by the old Arab poets. Whoever peruses the Suspended Poem of Labid, will find thoughts at once so plaintive and so noble, that even Dr. Carlyle�s learned verse cannot wholly deface their charm. The warrior-bard returns from afar. He looks upon the traces of hearth and home still furrowing the Desert ground. In bitterness of spirit he checks himself from calling aloud upon his lovers and his friends. He melts at the remembrance of their departure, and long indulges in the absorbing theme. Then he strengthens himself by the thought of Nawara�s inconstancy, how she left him and never thought of him again. He impatiently dwells upon the charms of the places which detain her, advocates flight from the changing lover and the false friend, and, in the exultation with which he feels his swift dromedary start under him upon her rapid course, he seems to seek and finds some consolation for women�s perfidy and forgetfulness. Yet he cannot abandon Nawara�s name or memory. Again he dwells with yearning upon scenes of past felicity, and he boasts of his prowess�a fresh reproach to her,�of his gentle birth, and of his hospitality. He ends with an encomium upon his clan, to which he attributes, as a noble Arab should, all the virtues of man. This is Goldsmith�s deserted village in Al-Hijaz. But the Arab, with equal simplicity and pathos, has a fire, a force of language, and a depth of feeling, which the Irishman, admirable as his verse is, could never rival. As the author of the Peninsular War well remarks, women in troubled times, throwing off their accustomed feebleness and frivolity, become helpmates meet for man. The same is true of pastoral life. [FN#25] Here, between the [p.94] extremes of fierceness and sensibility, the weaker sex, remedying its great want, power, rises itself by courage, physical as well as moral. In the early days of Al-Islam, if history be credible, Arabia had a race of heroines. Within the last century, Ghaliyah, the wife of a Wahhabi chief, opposed Mohammed Ali himself in many a bloody field. A few years ago, when Ibn Asm, popularly called Ibn Rumi, chief of the Zubayd clan about Rabigh, was treacherously slain by the Turkish general, Kurdi Osman, his sister, a fair young girl, determined to revenge him. She fixed upon the �Arafat-day� of pilgrimage for the accomplishment of her designs, disguised herself in male attire, drew her kerchief in the form Lisam over the lower part of her face, and with lighted match awaited her enemy. The Turk, however, was not present, and the girl was arrested to win for herself a local reputation equal to the �maid� of Salamanca. Thus it is that the Arab has learned to swear that great oath �by the honour of my women.� The Badawin are not without a certain Platonic affection, which they call Hawa (or Ishk) uzri�pardonable love.[FN#26] They draw the fine line between amant and amoureux: this is derided by the tow[n]speople, little suspecting how much such a custom says in favour of the wild men. Arabs, like other Orientals, hold that, in such matters, man is saved, not by faith, but by want of faith. They have also a saying not unlike ours� �She partly is to blame who has been tried; He comes too near who comes to be denied.� [p.95]The evil of this system is that they, like certain Southerns�pensano sempre al male�always suspect, which may be worldly-wise, and also always show their suspicions, which is assuredly foolish. For thus they demoralise their women, who might be kept in the way of right by self-respect and by a sense of duty. From ancient periods of the Arab�s history we find him practising knight-errantry, the wildest form of chivalry.[FN#27] �The Songs of Antar,� says the author of the �Crescent and the Cross,� �show little of the true chivalric spirit.� What thinks the reader of sentiments like these[FN#28]? �This valiant man,� remarks Antar (who was �ever interested for the weaker sex,�) �hath defended the honour of women.� We read in another place, �Mercy, my lord, is the noblest quality of the noble.� Again, �it is the most ignominious of deeds to take free-born women prisoners.� �Bear not malice, O Shibub,� quoth the hero, �for of malice good never came.� Is there no true greatness in this sentiment?��Birth is the boast of the faineant; noble is the youth who beareth every ill, who clotheth himself in mail during the noontide heat, and who wandereth through the outer darkness of night.� And why does the �knight of knights� love Ibla? Because �she is blooming as the sun at dawn, with hair black as the midnight shades, with Paradise in her eye, her bosom an enchantment, and a form waving like the tamarisk when the soft wind blows from the hills of Nijd�? Yes! but his chest expands also with the thoughts of her �faith, purity, and affection,��it is her moral as well as her material excellence that makes her [p.96] the hero�s �hope, and hearing, and sight.� Briefly, in Antar I discern �a love exalted high, By all the glow of chivalry;� and I lament to see so many intelligent travellers misjudging the Arab after a superficial experience of a few debased Syrians or Sinaites. The true children of Antar, my Lord Lindsay, have not �ceased to be gentlemen.� In the days of ignorance, it was the custom for Badawin, when tormented by the tender passion, which seems to have attacked them in the form of �possession,� for long years to sigh and wail and wander, doing the most truculent deeds to melt the obdurate fair. When Arabia Islamized, the practice changed its element for proselytism. The Fourth Caliph is fabled to have travelled far, redressing the injured, punishing the injurer, preaching to the infidel, and especially protecting women�the chief end and aim of knighthood. The Caliph Al-Mu�tasim heard in the assembly of his courtiers that a woman of Sayyid family had been taken prisoner by a �Greek barbarian� of Ammoria. The man on one occasion struck her: when she cried �Help me, O Mu�tasim!� and the clown said derisively, �Wait till he cometh upon his pied steed!� The chivalrous prince arose, sealed up the wine-cup which he held in his hand, took oath to do his knightly devoir, and on the morrow started for Ammoria with seventy thousand men, each mounted on a piebald charger. Having taken the place, he entered it, exclaiming, �Labbayki, Labbayki!���Here am I at thy call!� He struck off the caitiff�s head, released the lady with his own hands, ordered the cupbearer to bring the sealed bowl, and drank from it, exclaiming, �Now, indeed, wine is good!� To conclude this part of the subject with another far-famed instance. When Al-Mutanabbi, the poet, prophet, and warrior of Hams (A.H. 354) started together with his [p.97] son on their last journey, the father proposed to seek a place of safety for the night. �Art thou the Mutanabbi,� exclaimed his slave, �who wrote these lines,� ��I am known to the night, the wild, and the steed, To the guest, and the sword, to the paper and reed[FN#29]�?� The poet, in reply, lay down to sleep on Tigris� bank, in a place haunted by thieves, and, disdaining flight, lost his life during the hours of darkness. It is the existence of this chivalry among the �Children of Antar� which makes the society of Badawin (�damned saints,� perchance, and �honourable villains,�) so delightful to the traveller who[,] like the late Haji Wali (Dr. Wallin), understands and is understood by them. Nothing more naïve than his lamentations at finding himself in the �loathsome company of Persians,� or among Arab townspeople, whose �filthy and cowardly minds� he contrasts with the �high and chivalrous spirit of the true Sons of the Desert.� Your guide will protect you with blade and spear, even against his kindred, and he expects you to do the same for him. You may give a man the lie, but you must lose no time in baring your sword. If involved in dispute with overwhelming numbers, you address some elder, Dakhil-ak ya Shaykh!�(I am) thy protected, O Sir,�and he will espouse your quarrel with greater heat and energy, indeed, than if it were his own.[FN#30] But why multiply instances? The language of love and war and all excitement is poetry, and here, again, the Badawi excels. Travellers complain that the wild men have ceased to sing. This is true if �poet� be limited to a few authors whose existence [p.98] everywhere depends upon the accidents of patronage or political occurrences. A far stronger evidence of poetic feeling is afforded by the phraseology of the Arab, and the highly imaginative turn of his commonest expressions. Destitute of the poetic taste, as we define it, he certainly is: as in the Milesian, wit and fancy, vivacity and passion, are too strong for reason and judgment, the reins which guide Apollo�s car.[FN#31] And although the Badawin no longer boast a Labid or a Maysunah, yet they are passionately fond of their ancient bards.[FN#32] A man skilful in reading Al-Mutanabbi and the suspended Poems would be received by them with the honours paid by civilisation to the travelling millionaire.[FN#33] And their elders have a goodly store of ancient and modern war songs, legends, and love ditties which all enjoy. [p.99]I cannot well explain the effect of Arab poetry to one who has not visited the Desert.[FN#34] Apart from the pomp of words, and the music of the sound,[FN#35] there is a dreaminess of idea and a haze thrown over the object, infinitely attractive, but indescribable. Description, [p.100] indeed, would rob the song of indistinctness, its essence. To borrow a simile from a sister art; the Arab poet sets before the mental eye, the dim grand outlines of picture,�which must be filled up by the reader, guided only by a few glorious touches, powerfully standing out, and by the sentiment which the scene is intended to express;�whereas, we Europeans and moderns, by stippling and minute touches, produce a miniature on a large scale so objective as to exhaust rather than to arouse reflection. As the poet is a creator, the Arab�s is poetry, the European�s versical description. [FN#36] The language, �like a faithful wife, following the mind and giving birth to its offspring,� and free from that �luggage of particles� which clogs our modern tongues, leaves a mysterious vagueness between the relation of word to word, which materially assists the sentiment, not the sense, of the poem. When verbs and nouns have, each one, many different significations, only the radical or general idea suggests itself.[FN#37] Rich and varied synonyms, illustrating the finest shades of meaning, are artfully used; now scattered to startle us by distinctness, now to form as it were a star about which dimly seen satellites revolve. And, to cut short a disquisition [p.101] which might be prolonged indefinitely, there is in the Semitic dialect a copiousness of rhyme which leaves the poet almost unfettered to choose the desired expression.[FN#38] Hence it is that a stranger speaking Arabic becomes poetical as naturally as he would be witty in French and philosophic in German. Truly spake Mohammed al-Damiri, �Wisdom hath alighted upon three things�the brain of the Franks, the hands of the Chinese, and the tongues of the Arabs.� The name of Harami�brigand�is still honourable among the Hijazi Badawin. Slain in raid or foray, a man is said to die Ghandur, or a brave. He, on the other hand, who is lucky enough, as we should express it, to die in his bed, is called Fatis (carrion, the corps creve of the Klephts); his weeping mother will exclaim, �O that my son had perished of a cut throat!� and her attendant crones will suggest, with deference, that such evil came of the will of Allah. It is told of the Lahabah, a sept of the Auf near Rabigh, that a girl will refuse even her cousin unless, in the absence of other opportunities, he plunder some article from the Hajj Caravan in front of the Pasha�s links. Detected twenty years ago, the delinquent would have been impaled; now he escapes with a rib-roasting. Fear of the blood-feud, and the certainty of a shut road to future travellers, prevent the Turks proceeding to extremes. They conceal their weakness by pretending that [p.102] the Sultan hesitates to wage a war of extermination with the thieves of the Holy Land. It is easy to understand this respect for brigands. Whoso revolts against society requires an iron mind in an iron body, and these mankind instinctively admires, however misdirected be their energies. Thus, in all imaginative countries, the brigand is a hero; even the assassin who shoots his victim from behind a hedge appeals to the fancy in Tipperary or on the Abruzzian hills. Romance invests his loneliness with grandeur; if he have a wife or a friend�s wife, romance becomes doubly romantic, and a tithe of the superfluity robbed from the rich and bestowed upon the poor will win to Gasparoni the hearts of a people. The true Badawi style of plundering, with its numerous niceties of honour and gentlemanly manners, gives the robber a consciousness of moral rectitude. �Strip off that coat, O certain person! and that turband,� exclaims the highwayman, �they are wanted by the daughter of my paternal uncle (wife).� You will (of course, if necessary) lend ready ear to an order thus politely attributed to the wants of the fair sex. If you will add a few obliging expressions to the bundle, and offer Latro a cup of coffee and a pipe, you will talk half your toilette back to your own person; and if you can quote a little poetry, you will part the best of friends, leaving perhaps only a pair of sandals behind you. But should you hesitate, Latro, lamenting the painful necessity, touches up your back with the heel of his spear. If this hint suffice not, he will make things plain by the lance�s point, and when blood shows, the tiger-part of humanity appears. Between Badawin, to be tamely plundered, especially of the mare,[FN#39] is a lasting disgrace; a man of [p.103] family lays down his life rather than yield even to overpowering numbers. This desperation has raised the courage of the Badawin to high repute amongst the settled Arabs, who talk of single braves capable, like the Homeric heroes, of overpowering three hundred men. I omit general details about the often-described Sar, or Vendetta. The price of blood is $800 = 200l., or rather that sum imperfectly expressed by live stock. All the Khamsah or A�amam, blood relations of the slayer, assist to make up the required amount, rating each animal at three or four times its proper value. On such occasions violent scenes arise from the conflict of the Arab�s two pet passions, avarice and revenge. The �avenger of blood� longs to cut the foe�s throat. On the other hand, how let slip an opportunity of enriching himself? His covetousness is intense, as are all his passions. He has always a project of buying a new dromedary, or of investing capital in some marvellous colt; the consequence is, that he is insatiable. Still he receives blood-money with a feeling of shame; and if it be offered to an old woman,�the most revengeful variety of our species, be it remarked,�she will dash it to the ground and clutch her knife, and fiercely swear by Allah that she will not �eat� her son�s blood. The Badawi considers himself a man only when mounted on horseback, lance in hand, bound for a foray or a fray, and carolling some such gaiety as� �A steede! a steede of matchlesse speede! A sword of metal keene! All else to noble minds is drosse, All else on earth is meane.� Even in his sports he affects those that imitate war. Preserving the instinctive qualities which lie dormant in civilisation, he is an admirable sportsman. The children, [p.104] men in miniature, begin with a rude system of gymnastics when they can walk. �My young ones play upon the backs of camels,� was the reply made to me by a Jahayni Badawi when offered some Egyptian plaything. The men pass their time principally in hawking, shooting, and riding. The �Sakr,[FN#40]� I am told, is the only falcon in general use; they train it to pursue the gazelle, which [p.105] greyhounds pull down when fatigued. I have heard much of their excellent marksmanship, but saw only moderate practice with a long matchlock rested and fired at standing objects. Double-barreled guns are rare amongst them.[FN#41] Their principal weapons are matchlocks and firelocks, pistols, javelins, spears, swords, and the dagger called Jambiyah; the sling and the bow have long been given up. The guns come from Egypt, Syria, and Turkey; for the Badawi cannot make, although he can repair, this arm. He particularly values a good old barrel seven spans long, and would rather keep it than his coat; consequently, a family often boasts of four or five guns, which descend from generation to generation. Their price varies from two to sixty dollars. The Badawin collect nitre in the country, make excellent charcoal, and import sulphur from Egypt and India; their powder, however, is coarse and weak. For hares and birds they cut up into slugs a bar of lead hammered out to a convenient size, and they cast bullets in moulds. They are fond of ball-practice, firing, as every sensible man does, at short distances, and striving at extreme precision. They are ever backing themselves with wagers, and will shoot for a sheep, the loser inviting his friends to a feast: on festivals they boil the head, and use it as mark and prize. Those who affect excellence are said to fire at a bullet hanging by a thread; curious, however, to relate, the Badawin of Al-Hijaz have but just learned the art, general in Persia and Barbary, of shooting from horseback at speed. Pistols have been lately introduced into the Hijaz, and are not common amongst the Badawin. The citizens incline to this weapon, as it is derived from Constantinople. In the Desert a tolerable pair with flint locks may be worth thirty dollars, ten times their price in England. [p.106]The spears[FN#42] called Kanat, or reeds, are made of male bamboos imported from India. They are at least twelve feet long, iron shod, with a tapering point, beneath which are one or two tufts of black ostrich feathers.[FN#43] Besides the Mirzak, or javelin, they have a spear called Shalfah, a bamboo or a palm stick garnished with a head about the breadth of a man�s hand. No good swords are fabricated in Al-Hijaz. The Khalawiyah and other Desert clans have made some poor attempts at blades. They are brought from Persia, India, and Egypt; but I never saw anything of value. The Darakah, or shield, also comes from India. It is the common Cutch article, supposed to be made of rhinoceros hide, and displaying as much brass knob and gold wash as possible. The Badawin still use in the remoter parts Diraa, or coats of mail, worn by horsemen over buff jackets. The dagger is made in Al-Yaman and other places: it has a vast variety of shapes, each of which, as usual, has its proper names. Generally they are but little curved (whereas the Gadaymi of Al-Yaman and Hazramaut is almost a semicircle), with tapering blade, wooden handle, and scabbard of the same material overlaid with brass. At the point of the scabbard is a round knob, and the weapon is so long, that a man when walking cannot swing his right [p.107] arm. In narrow places he must enter sideways. But it is the mode always to appear in dagger, and the weapon, like the French soldier�s coupe-choux, is really useful for such bloodless purposes as cutting wood and gathering grass. In price they vary from one to thirty dollars. The Badawin boast greatly of sword-play; but it is apparently confined to delivering a tremendous slash, and to jumping away from the return-cut instead of parrying either with sword or shield. The citizens have learned the Turkish scimitar-play, which, in grotesqueness and general absurdity, rivals the East Indian school. None of these Orientals knows the use of the point which characterises the highest school of swordsmanship. The Hijazi Badawin have no game of chance, and dare not, I am told, ferment the juice of the Daum palm, as proximity to Aden has taught the wild men of Al-Yaman.[FN#44] Their music is in a rude state. The principal instrument is the Tabl, or kettle-drum, which is of two kinds: one, the smaller, used at festivals; the other, a large copper �tom-tom,� for martial purposes, covered with leather, and played upon, pulpit-like, with fist, and not with stick. Besides which, they have the one-stringed Rubabah, or guitar, that �monotonous but charming instrument of the Desert.� In another place I have described their dancing, which is an ignoble spectacle. The Badawin of Al-Hijaz have all the knowledge necessary for procuring and protecting the riches of savage life. They are perfect in the breeding, the training, and the selling of cattle. They know sufficient of astronomy to guide themselves by night, and are acquainted [p.108] with the names of the principal stars. Their local memory is wonderful. And such is their instinct in the art of asar, or tracking, that it is popularly said of the Zubayd clan, which lives between Meccah and Al-Madinah, a man will lose a she-camel and know her four-year-old colt by its foot. Always engaged in rough exercises and perilous journeys, they have learned a kind of farriery and a simple system of surgery. In cases of fracture they bind on splints with cloth bands, and the patient drinks camel�s milk and clarified butter till he is cured. Cuts are carefully washed, sprinkled with meal gunpowder, and sewn up. They dress gunshot wounds with raw camel�s flesh, and rely entirely upon nature and diet. When bitten by snakes or stung by scorpions, they scarify the wound with a razor, recite a charm, and apply to it a dressing of garlic.[FN#45] The wealthy have Fiss or ring-stones, brought from India, and used with a formula of prayer to extract venom. Some few possess the Tariyak (Theriack) of Al-Irak�the great counter-poison, internal as well as external, of the East. The poorer classes all wear the Za�al or Hibas of Al-Yaman; two yarns of black sheep�s wool tied round the leg, under the knee and above the ankle. When bitten, the sufferer tightens these cords above the injured part, which he immediately scarifies; thus they act as tourniquets. These ligatures also cure cramps�and there is no other remedy. The Badawi knowledge of medicine is unusually limited in this part of Arabia, where even simples are not required by a people who rise with dawn, eat little, always breathe Desert air, and �at night make the camels their curfew.� The great tonic is clarified butter, and the Kay, or actual cautery, is used even for rheumatism. This counter-irritant, together with a curious and artful phlebotomy, [p.109] blood being taken, as by the Italians, from the toes, the fingers, and other parts of the body, are the Arab panaceas. They treat scald-head with grease and sulphur. Ulcers, which here abound, without, however, assuming the fearful type of the �Helcoma Yemenense,� are cauterised and stimulated by verdigris. The evil of which Fracastorius sang is combated by sudorifics, by unguents of oil and sulphur, and especially by the sand-bath. The patient, buried up to the neck, remains in the sun fasting all day; in the evening he is allowed a little food. This rude course of �packing� lasts for about a month. It suits some constitutions; but others, especially Europeans, have tried the sand-bath and died of fever. Mules� teeth, roasted and imperfectly pounded, remove cataract. Teeth are extracted by the farrier�s pincers, and the worm which throughout the East is supposed to produce toothache, falls by fumigation. And, finally, after great fatigue, or when suffering from cold, the body is copiously greased with clarified butter and exposed to a blazing fire. Mohammed and his followers conquered only the more civilised Badawin; and there is even to this day little or no religion amongst the wild people, except those on the coast or in the vicinity of cities. The faith of the Badawi comes from Al-Islam, whose hold is weak. But his customs and institutions, the growth of his climate, his nature, and his wants, are still those of his ancestors, cherished ere Meccah had sent forth a Prophet, and likely to survive the day when every vestige of the Ka�abah shall have disappeared. Of this nature are the Hijazi�s pagan oaths, his heathenish names (few being Moslem except �Mohammed�), his ordeal of licking red-hot iron, his Salkh, or scarification,�proof of manliness,�his blood revenge, and his eating carrion (i.e., the body of an animal killed without the usual formula), and his lending his wives to strangers. All these I hold to be remnants of some old [p.110] creed; nor should I despair of finding among the Badawin bordering upon the Great Desert some lingering system of idolatry. The Badawin of Al-Hijaz call themselves Shafe�i but what is put into the mouths of their brethren in the West applies equally well here. �We pray not, because we must drink the water of ablution; we give no alms, because we ask them; we fast not the Ramazan month, because we starve throughout the year; and we do no pilgrimage, because the world is the House of Allah.� Their blunders in religious matters supply the citizens with many droll stories. And it is to be observed that they do not, like the Greek pirates or the Italian bandits, preserve a religious element in their plunderings; they make no vows, and they carefully avoid offerings. The ceremonies of Badawi life are few and simple�circumcisions, marriages, and funerals. Of the former rite there are two forms, Taharah, as usual in Al-Islam, and Salkh, an Arab invention, derived from the times of Paganism.[FN#46] During Wahhabi rule it was forbidden under pain of death, but now the people have returned to it. The usual age for Taharah is between five and six; among [p.111] some classes, however, it is performed ten years later. On such occasions feastings and merrymakings take place, as at our christenings. Women being a marketable commodity in barbarism as in civilisation, the youth in Al-Hijaz is not married till his father can afford to buy him a bride. There is little pomp or ceremony save firing of guns, dancing, singing, and eating mutton. The �settlement� is usually about thirty sound Spanish dollars,[FN#47] half paid down, and the other owed by the bridegroom to the father, the brothers, or the kindred of his spouse. Some tribes will take animals in lieu of ready money. A man of wrath not contented with his bride, puts her away at once. If peaceably inclined, by a short delay he avoids scandal. Divorces are very frequent among Badawin, and if the settlement money be duly paid, no evil comes of them.[FN#48] The funerals of the wild men resemble those of the citizens, only they are more simple, the dead being buried where they die. The corpse, after ablution, is shrouded in any rags procurable; and, women and hired weepers [p.112] not being permitted to attend, it is carried to the grave by men only. A hole is dug, according to Moslem custom; dry wood, which everywhere abounds, is disposed to cover the corpse, and an oval of stones surrounding a mound of earth keeps out jackals and denotes the spot. These Badawin have not, like the wild Sindis and Baluchis, favourite cemeteries, to which they transport their dead from afar. The traveller will find no difficulty in living amongst the Hijazi Badawin. �Trust to their honour, and you are safe,� as was said of the Crow Indians; �to their honesty and they will steal the hair off your head.� But the wanderer must adopt the wild man�s motto, omnia mea mecum porto; he must have good nerves, be capable of fatigue and hardship, possess some knowledge of drugs, shoot and ride well, speak Arabic and Turkish, know the customs by reading, and avoid offending against local prejudices, by causing himself, for instance, to be called Taggaa. The payment of a small sum secures to him a Rafik,[FN#49] and this �friend,� after once engaging in the task, will be faithful. �We have eaten salt together� (Nahnu Malihin) is still a bond of friendship: there are, however, some tribes who require to renew the bond every twenty-four hours, as otherwise, to use their own phrase, �the salt is not in their stomachs.� Caution must be exercised in choosing a companion who has not too many blood feuds. There is no objection to carrying a copper watch and a pocket compass, and a Koran could be fitted with secret pockets for notes and pencil. Strangers should especially avoid handsome weapons; these tempt the Badawin�s cupidity more than gold. The other extreme, defencelessness, is equally objectionable. It is needless to say that the traveller must never be seen writing anything but charms, and must on no account sketch in public. He should be careful in questioning, and rather lead up [p.113] to information than ask directly. It offends some Badawin, besides denoting ignorance and curiosity, to be asked their names or those of their clans: a man may be living incognito, and the tribes distinguish themselves when they desire to do so by dress, personal appearance, voice, dialect, and accentuation, points of difference plain to the initiated. A few dollars suffice for the road, and if you would be �respectable,� a taste which I will not deprecate, some such presents as razors and Tarbushes are required for the chiefs. The government of the Arabs may be called almost an autonomy. The tribes never obey their Shaykhs, unless for personal considerations, and, as in a civilised army, there generally is some sharp-witted and brazen-faced individual whose voice is louder than the general�s. In their leonine society the sword is the greater administrator of law. Relations between the Badawi tribes of Al-Hijaz are of a threefold character: they are either Ashab, Kiman, or Akhwan. Ashab, or �comrades,� are those who are bound by oath to an alliance offensive and defensive: they intermarry, and are therefore closely connected. Kiman,[FN#50] or foes, are tribes between whom a blood feud, the cause and the effect of deadly enmity, exists. Akhawat, or �brotherhood,� denotes the tie between the stranger and the Badawi, who asserts an immemorial and inalienable right to the soil upon which his forefathers fed their flocks. Trespass by a neighbour instantly causes war. Territorial increase is rarely attempted, for if of a whole clan but a single boy escape he will one day assert his claim to the land, and be assisted by all the Ashab, or [p.114] allies of the slain. By paying to man, woman, or child, a small sum, varying, according to your means, from a few pence worth of trinkets to a couple of dollars, you share bread and salt with the tribe, you and your horse become Dakhil (protected), and every one must afford you brother-help. If traveller or trader attempt to pass through the land without paying Al-Akhawah or Al-Rifkah, as it is termed, he must expect to be plundered, and, resisting, to be slain: it is no dishonour to pay it, and he clearly is in the wrong who refuses to conform to custom. The Rafik, under different names, exists throughout this part of the world; at Sinai he was called a Ghafir, a Rabia in Eastern Arabia, amongst the Somal an Abban, and by the Gallas a Mogasa. I have called the tax �black-mail�; it deserves a better name, being clearly the rudest form of those transit-dues and octrois which are in nowise improved by �progress.� The Ahl Bayt,[FN#51] or dwellers in the Black Tents, levy the tax from the Ahl Hayt, or the People of Walls; that is to say, townsmen and villagers who have forfeited right to be held Badawin. It is demanded from bastard Arabs, and from tribes who, like the Hutaym and the Khalawiyah, have been born basely or have become �nidering.� And these people are obliged to pay it at home as well as abroad. Then it becomes a sign of disgrace, and the pure clans, like the Benu Harb, will not give their damsels in marriage to �brothers.� Besides this Akhawat-tax and the pensions by the Porte to chiefs of clans, the wealth of the Badawi consists in his flocks and herds, his mare, and his weapons. Some clans are rich in horses; others are celebrated for camels; and not a few for sheep, asses, or greyhounds. The Ahamidah tribe, as has been mentioned, possesses few animals; it subsists by plunder and by presents from [p.115] pilgrims. The principal wants of the country are sulphur, lead, cloths of all kinds, sugar, spices, coffee, corn, and rice. Arms are valued by the men, and it is advisable to carry a stock of Birmingham jewellery for the purpose of conciliating womankind. In exchange the Badawin give sheep,[FN#52] cattle, clarified butter, milk, wool, and hides, which they use for water-bags, as the Egyptians and other Easterns do potteries. But as there is now a fair store of dollars in the country, it is rarely necessary to barter. The Arab�s dress marks his simplicity; it gives him a nationality, as, according to John Evelyn, �prodigious breeches� did to the Swiss. It is remarkably picturesque, and with sorrow we see it now confined to the wildest Badawin and a few Sharifs. To the practised eye, a Hijazi in Tarbush and Caftan is ridiculous as a Basque or a Catalonian girl in a cachemire and a little chip. The necessary dress of a man is his Saub (Tobe), a blue calico shirt, reaching from neck to ankles, tight or loose-sleeved, opening at the chest in front, and rather narrow below; so that the wearer, when running, must either hold it up or tuck it into his belt. The latter article, called Hakw, is a plaited leathern thong, twisted round the waist very tightly, so as to support the back. The trousers and the Futah, or loin-cloth of cities, are looked upon as signs of effeminacy. In cold weather the chiefs wear over the shirt an Aba, or cloak. These garments are made in Nijd and the Eastern districts; they are of four colours, white, black, red, and brown-striped. The best are of camels� hair, and may cost fifteen dollars; the worst, of sheep�s wool, are worth only three; both are cheap, as they last for years. The Mahramah (head-cloth) comes from Syria; which, with Nijd, supplies also the Kufiyah or headkerchief. The Ukal,[FN#53] fillets bound over [p.116] the kerchief, are of many kinds; the Bishr tribe near Meccah make a kind of crown like the gloria round a saint�s head, with bits of wood, in which are set pieces of mother-o�-pearl. Sandals, too, are of every description, from the simple sole of leather tied on with thongs, to the handsome and elaborate chaussure of Meccah; the price varies from a piastre to a dollar, and the very poor walk barefooted. A leathern bandoleer, called Majdal, passed over the left shoulder, and reaching to the right hip, supports a line of brass cylinders for cartridges.[FN#54] The other cross-belt (Al-Masdar), made of leather ornamented with brass rings, hangs down at the left side, and carries a Kharizah, or hide-case for bullets. And finally, the Hizam, or waist-belt, holds the dagger and extra cartridge cases. A Badawi never appears in public unarmed. Women wear, like their masters, dark blue cotton Tobes, but larger and looser. When abroad they cover the head with a Yashmak of black stuff, or a poppy-coloured Burka (nose-gay) of the Egyptian shape. They wear no pantaloons, and they rarely affect slippers or sandals. The hair is twisted into Majdul, little pig-tails, and copiously anointed with clarified butter. The rich perfume the skin with rose and cinnamon-scented oils, and adorn the hair with Al-Shayh (Absinthium), sweetest herb of the Desert; their ornaments are bracelets, collars, ear and nose-rings of gold, silver, or silver-gilt. The poorer classes have strings of silver coins hung round the neck. The true Badawi is an abstemious man, capable of living for six months on ten ounces of food per diem; the milk of a single camel, and a handful of dates, dry or fried in clarified butter, suffice for his wants. He despises the obese and all who require regular and plentiful meals, sleeps on a mat, and knows neither luxury nor comfort, freezing during one quarter and frying for three quarters of the year. But though he can endure hunger, like all [p.117] savages, he will gorge when an opportunity offers. I never saw the man who could refrain from water upon the line of march; and in this point they contrast disadvantageously with the hardy Wahhabis of the East, and the rugged mountaineers of Jabal Shammar. They are still �acridophagi,� and even the citizens far prefer a dish of locusts to the Fasikh, which act as anchovies, sardines, and herrings in Egypt. They light a fire at night, and as the insects fall dead they quote this couplet to justify their being eaten� �We are allowed two carrions and two bloods, The fish and locust, the liver and the spleen.[FN#55]� Where they have no crops to lose, the people are thankful for a fall of locusts. In Al-Hijaz the flights are uncertain; during the last five years Al-Madinah has seen but few. They are prepared for eating by boiling in salt water and drying four or five days in the sun: a �wet� locust to an Arab is as a snail to a Briton. The head is plucked off, the stomach drawn, the wings and the prickly part of the legs are plucked, and the insect is ready for the table. Locusts are never eaten with sweet things, which would be nauseous: the dish is always �hot,� with salt and pepper, or onions fried in clarified butter, when it tastes nearly as well as a plate of stale shrimps. The favourite food on the line of march is meat cut into strips and sun-dried. This, with a bag of milk-balls[FN#56] [p.118] and a little coffee, must suffice for journey or campaign. The Badawin know neither fermented nor distilled liquors, although Ikhs ya�l Khammar! (Fie upon thee, drunkard!) is a popular phrase, preserving the memory of another state of things. Some clans, though not all, smoke tobacco. It is generally the growth of the country called Hijazi or Kazimiyah; a green weed, very strong, with a foul smell, and costing about one piastre per pound. The Badawin do not relish Persian tobacco, and cannot procure Latakia: it is probably the pungency of the native growth offending the delicate organs of the Desert-men, that caused nicotiana to be proscribed by the Wahhabis, who revived against its origin a senseless and obsolete calumny. The almost absolute independence of the Arabs, and of that noble race the North American Indians of a former generation, has produced a similarity between them worthy of note, because it may warn the anthropologist not always to detect in coincidence of custom identity of origin. Both have the same wild chivalry, the same fiery sense of honour, and the same boundless hospitality: elopements from tribe to tribe, the blood feud, and the Vendetta are common to the to. Both are grave and cautious in demeanour, and formal in manner,�princes in rags or paint. The Arabs plunder pilgrims; the Indians, bands of trappers; both glory in forays, raids, and cattle-lifting; and both rob according to certain rules. Both are alternately brave to desperation, and shy of danger. Both are remarkable for nervous and powerful eloquence; dry humour, satire, whimsical tales, frequent tropes; boasts, and ruffling style; pithy proverbs, extempore songs, and languages wondrous in their complexity. Both, recognising no other occupation but war and the chase, despise artificers and the effeminate people of cities, as the game-cock spurns the vulgar roosters of the poultry-yard.[FN#57] The [p.119] chivalry of the Western wolds, like that of the Eastern wilds, salutes the visitor by a charge of cavalry, by discharging guns, and by wheeling around him with shouts and yells. The �brave� stamps a red hand upon his mouth to show that he has drunk the blood of a foe. Of the Utaybah �Harami� it is similarly related, that after mortal combat he tastes the dead man�s gore. Of these two chivalrous races of barbarians, the Badawi claims our preference on account of his treatment of women, his superior development of intellect, and the glorious page of history which he has filled. The tribes of Al-Hijaz are tediously numerous: it will be sufficient to enumerate the principal branches of the Badawi tree, without detailing the hundred little offshoots which it has put forth in the course of ages.[FN#58] Those ancient clans the Abs and Adnan have almost died out. The latter, it is said, still exists in the neighbourhood of Taif; and the Abs, I am informed, are to be found near Kusayr (Cosseir), on the African coast, but not in Al-Hijaz. Of the Aus, Khazraj, and Nazir details have been given in a previous chapter. The Benu Harb is now the ruling clan in the Holy Land. It is divided by genealogists into two great bodies, first, the Benu Salim, and, secondly, the Masruh,[FN#59] or �roaming tribes.� [p.120]The Benu Salim, again, have eight subdivisions, viz.:� 1. Ahamidah (Ahmadi)[FN#60]: this clan owns for chief, Shaykh Sa�ad of the mountains. It is said to contain about 3500 men. Its principal sub-clan is the Hadari. 2. Hawazim (Hazimi), the rival tribe, 3000 in number: it is again divided into Muzayni and Zahiri. 3. Sobh (Sobhi), 3500, habitat near Al-Badr. 4. Salaymah (Salimi), also called Aulad Salim. 5. Sa�adin (Sa�adani). 6. Mahamid (Mahmadi), 8000. 7. Rahalah (Rihayli), 1000. 8. Timam (Tamimi). The Masruh tree splits into two great branches, Benu Auf, and Benu Amur.[FN#61] The former is a large clan, extending from Wady Nakia [Arabic] near Nijd, to Rabigh and Al-Madinah. They have few horses, but many dromedaries, camels, and sheep, and are much feared by the people, on account of their warlike and savage character. They separate into ten sub-divisions, viz.:� 1. Sihliyah (Sihli), about 2000 in number. 2. Sawaid (Sa�idi), 1000. 3. Rukhasah (Rakhis). 4. Kassanin (Kassan): this sub-clan claims origin from the old �Gassan� stock, and is found in considerable numbers at Wady Nakia and other places near Al-Madinah. 5. Ruba�ah (Rabai). 6. Khazarah (Khuzayri). 7. Lahabah (Lahaybi), 1500 in number. 8. Faradah (Faradi). 9. Benu Ali (Alawi). 10. Zubayd (Zubaydi), near Meccah, a numerous clan of fighting thieves. Also under the Benu Amur�as the word is popularly pronounced�are ten sub-families. 1. Marabitah (Murabti). They [nrs. 1-5] principally inhabit the land about Al-Fara [Arabic] a collection of settlements four marches South of Al-Madinah, number about 10,000 men, and have droves of sheep and camels but few horses. 2. Hussar (Hasir). 3. Benu Jabir (Jabiri). [p.121] 4. Rabaykah (Rubayki). 5. Hisnan (Hasuni). 6. Bizan (Bayzani). 7. Badarin (Badrani). 8. Biladiyah (Biladi). 9. Jaham (the singular and plural forms are the same). 10. Shatarah (Shitayri).[FN#62] The great Anizah race now, I was told, inhabits Khaybar, and it must not visit Al-Madinah without a Rafik or protector. Properly speaking there are no outcasts in Al-Hijaz, as in Al-Yaman and the Somali country. But the Hitman (pl. of Hutaym or Hitaym), inhabiting the sea-board about Yambu�, are taxed by other Badawin as low and vile of origin. The unchastity of the women is connived at by the men, who, however, are brave and celebrated as marksmen: they make, eat, and sell cheese, for which reason that food is despised by the Harb. And the Khalawiyah (pl. of Khalawi) are equally despised; they are generally blacksmiths, have a fine breed of greyhounds, and give asses as a dowry, which secures for them the derision of their fellows. Mr. C. Cole, H. B. M.�s Vice-Consul at Jeddah, was kind enough to collect for me notices of the different tribes in Central and Southern Hijaz. His informants divide the great clan Juhaynah living about Yambu� and Yambu� al-Nakhl into five branches, viz.:� 1. Benu Ibrahimah, in number about 5000. 2. Ishran, 700. 3. Benu Malik, 6000. [p.122] 4. Arwah, 5000. 5. Kaunah, 3000. Thus giving a total of 19,700 men capable of carrying arms.[FN#63] The same gentleman, whose labours in Eastern Arabia during the coast survey of the �Palinurus� are well known to the Indian world, gives the following names of the tribes under allegiance to the Sharif of Meccah. 1. Sakif (Thakif) al-Yaman, 2000. 2. Sakif al-Sham,[FN#64] 1000. 3. Benu Malik, 6000. 4. Nasirah, 3000. 5. Benu Sa�ad, 4000. 6. Huzayh (Hudhayh), 5000. 7. Bakum (Begoum), 5000. 8. Adudah, 500. 9. Bashar, 1000. 10. Sa�id, 1500. 11. Zubayd, 4000. 12. Aydah, 1000. The following is a list of the Southern Hijazi tribes, kindly forwarded to me by the Abbe Hamilton, after his return from a visit to the Sharif at Taif. 1. Ghamid al-Badawy (�of the nomades�), 30,000. 2. Ghamid al-Hazar (�the settled�), 40,000. 3. Zahran, 38,000. 4. Benu Malik, 30,000. 5. Nasirah, 15,000. 6. Asir, 40,000. 7. Tamum, * 8. Bilkarn, * * together, 80,000. 9. Benu Ahmar, 10,000. 10. Utaybah, living north of Meccah: no number given. 11. Shu�abin. 12. Daraysh, 2000. [p.123] 13. Benu Sufyan, 15,000. 14. Al-Hullad, 3000. It is evident that the numbers given by this traveller include the women, and probably the children of the tribes. Some exaggeration will also be suspected. The principal clans which practise the pagan Salkh, or excoriation, are, in Al-Hijaz, the Huzayl and the Benu Sufyan, together with the following families in Al-Tahamah: 1. Juhadilah. 2. Kabakah. 3. Benu Fahm. 4. Benu Mahmud. 5. Saramu (?) 6. Majarish. 7. Benu Yazid. I now take leave of a subject which cannot but be most uninteresting to English readers. [FN#1] In Holy Writ, as the indigens are not alluded to�only the Noachian race being described�we find two divisions: 1 The children of Joktan (great grandson of Shem), Mesopotamians settled in Southern Arabia, �from Mesha (Musa or Meccah?) to Sephar� (Zafar), a �Mount of the East,��Genesis, x. 30: that is to say, they occupied the lands from Al-Tahamah to Mahrah. 2. The children of Ishmael, and his Egyptian wife; they peopled only the Wilderness of Paran in the Sinaitic Peninsula and the parts adjacent. Dr. Aloys Sprenger (Life of Mohammed, p. 18), throws philosophic doubt upon the Ishmaelitish descent of Mohammed, who in personal appearance was a pure Caucasian, without any mingling of Egyptian blood. And the Ishmaelitish origin of the whole Arab race is an utterly untenable theory. Years ago, our great historian sensibly remarked that �the name (Saracens), used by Ptolemy and Pliny in a more confined, by Ammianus and Procopius in a larger sense, has been derived ridiculously from Sarah the wife of Abraham.� In Gibbon�s observation, the erudite Interpreter of the One Primaeval Language,�the acute bibliologist who metamorphoses the quail of the wilderness into a �ruddy goose,��detects �insidiousness� and �a spirit of restless and rancorous hostility� against revealed religion. He proceeds on these sound grounds to attack the accuracy, the honesty and the learning of the mighty dead. This may be Christian zeal; it is not Christian charity. Of late years it has been the fashion for every aspirant to ecclesiastical honours to deal a blow at the ghost of Gibbon. And, as has before been remarked, Mr. Foster gratuitously attacked Burckhardt, whose manes had long rested in the good-will of man. This contrasts offensively with Lord Lindsay�s happy compliment to the memory of the honest Swiss and the amiable eulogy quoted by Dr. Keith from the Quarterly (vol. xxiii.), and thus adopted as his own. It may seem folly to defend the historian of the Decline and Fall against the compiler of the Historical Geography of Arabia. But continental Orientalists have expressed their wonder at the appearance in this nineteenth century of the �Voice of Israel from Mount Sinai� and the �India in Greece�[;] they should be informed that all our Eastern students are not votaries of such obsolete vagaries. [FN#2] This is said without any theory. According to all historians of long inhabited lands, the advenae�whether migratory tribes or visitors�find indigens or [Greek]. [FN#3] They are described as having small heads, with low brows and ill-formed noses, (strongly contrasting with the Jewish feature), irregular lines, black skins, and frames for the most part frail and slender. For a physiological description of this race, I must refer my readers to the writings of Dr. Carter of Bombay, the medical officer of the Palinurus, when engaged on the Survey of Eastern Arabia. With ample means of observation he has not failed to remark the similarity between the lowest type of Badawi and the Indigens of India, as represented by the Bhils and other Jungle races. This, from a man of science who is not writing up to a theory, may be considered strong evidence in favour of variety in the Arabian family. The fact has long been suspected, but few travellers have given their attention to the subject since the downfall of Sir William Jones� Indian origin theory. I am convinced that there is not in Arabia �one Arab face, cast of features and expression,� as was formerly supposed to be the case, and I venture to recommend the subject for consideration to future observers. [FN#4] Of this Mesopotamian race there are now many local varieties. The subjects of the four Abyssinian and Christian sovereigns who succeeded Yusuf, the Jewish �Lord of the Pit,� produced, in Al-Yaman, the modern �Akhdam� or �Serviles.� The �Hujur� of Al-Yaman and Oman are a mixed race whose origin is still unknown. And to quote no more cases, the �Ebna� mentioned by the Ibn Ishak were descended from the Persian soldiers of Anushirwan, who expelled the Abyssinian invader. [FN#5] That the Copts, or ancient Egyptians, were �Half-caste Arabs,� a mixed people like the Abyssinians, the Gallas, the Somal, and the Kafirs, an Arab graft upon an African stock, appears highly probable. Hence the old Nilotic race has been represented as woolly-headed and of negro feature. Thus Leo Africanus makes the Africans to be descendants of the Arabs. Hence the tradition that Egypt was peopled by AEthiopia, and has been gradually whitened by admixture of Persian and Median, Greek and Roman blood. Hence, too, the fancied connection of Aethiopia with Cush, Susiana, Khuzistan or the lands about the Tigris. Thus learned Virgil, confounding the Western with the Eastern Aethiopians, alludes to �Usque coloratos Nilus devexus ad Indos.� And Strabo maintains the people of Mauritania to be Indians who had come with Hercules. We cannot but remark in Southern Arabia the footprints of the Hindu, whose superstitions, like the Phoenix which flew from India to expire in Egypt, passed over to Arabia with Dwipa Sukhatra (Socotra) for a resting place on its way to the regions of the remotest West. As regards the difference between the Japhetic and Semitic tongues, it may be remarked that though nothing can be more distinct than Sanscrit and Arabic, yet that Pahlavi and Hebrew (Prof. Bohlen on Genesis) present some remarkable points of resemblance. I have attempted in a work on Sind to collect words common to both families. And further research convinces me that such vocables as the Arabic Taur [Arabic] the Persian Tora [Persian] and the Latin �Taurus� denote an ancient rapprochement, whose mysteries still invite the elucidation of modern science. [FN#6] The Sharif families affect marrying female slaves, thereby showing the intense pride which finds no Arab noble enough for them. Others take to wife Badawi girls: their blood, therefore, is by no means pure. The worst feature of their system is the forced celibacy of their daughters; they are never married into any but Sharif families; consequently they often die in spinsterhood. The effects of this custom are most pernicious, for though celibacy exists in the East it is by no means synonymous with chastity. Here it springs from a morbid sense of honour, and arose, it is popularly said, from an affront taken by a Sharif against his daughter�s husband. But all Arabs condemn the practice. [FN#7] I use this word as popular abuse has fixed it. Every Orientalist knows that Badawin (Bedouin) is the plural form of Badawi, an �ism al-nisbah,� or adjective derived from Badu, a Desert. �Some words notoriously corrupt,� says Gibbon, �are fixed, and as it were naturalised, in the vulgar tongue.� The word �Badawi� is not insulting, like �Turk� applied to an Osmanli, or �Fellah� to the Egyptian. But you affront the wild man by mistaking his clan for a lower one. �Ya Hitaymi,� for instance, addressed to a Harb Badawi, makes him finger his dagger. [FN#8] This coarseness is not a little increased by a truly Badawi habit of washing the locks with�[Arabic]. It is not considered wholly impure, and is also used for the eyes, upon which its ammonia would act as a rude stimulant. The only cosmetic is clarified butter freely applied to the body as well as to the hair. [FN#9] �Kurun� ([Arabic]) properly means �horns.� The Sharifs generally wear their hair in �Haffah� ([Arabic]), long locks hanging down both sides of the neck and shaved away about a finger�s breadth round the forehead and behind the neck. [FN#10] This traveller describes the modern Mesopotamian and Northern race, which, as its bushy beard�unusual feature in pure Arab blood�denotes, is mixed with central Asian. In the North, as might be expected, the camels are hairy; whereas, in Al-Hijaz and in the low parts of Al-Yaman, a whole animal does not give a handful fit for weaving. The Arabs attribute this, as we should, to heat, which causes the longer hairs to drop off. [FN#11] �Magnum inter Arabes et Africanos discrimen efficit [Greek]. Arabum parvula membra sicut nobilis aequi. Africanum tamen flaccum, crassum longumque: ita quiescens, erectum tamen parum distenditur. Argumentum validissimum est ad indagandam Egyptorum originem: Nilotica enim gens membrum habet Africanum.� [FN#12] Whereas the Saxon thumb is thick, flat, and short, extending scarcely half way to the middle joint of the index. [FN#13] A similar unwillingness to name the wife may be found in some parts of southern Europe, where probably jealousy or possibly Asiatic custom has given rise to it. Among the Maltese it appears in a truly ridiculous way, e.g., �dice la mia moglie, con rispetto parlando, &c.,� says the husband, adding to the word spouse a �saving your presence,� as if he were speaking of something offensive. [FN#14] Dr. Howe (Report on Idiotcy in Massachusetts, 1848,) asserts that �the law against the marriage of relations is made out as clearly as though it were written on tables of stone.� He proceeds to show that in seventeen households where the parents were connected by blood, of ninety-five children one was a dwarf, one deaf, twelve scrofulous, and forty-four idiots�total fifty-eight diseased! [FN#15] Yet the celebrated �Flying Childers� and all his race were remarkably bred in. There is still, in my humble opinion, much mystery about the subject, to be cleared up only by the studies of physiologists. [FN#16] This sounds in English like an �Irish bull.� I translate �Badu,� as the dictionaries do, �a Desert.� [FN#17] The Sharbat Kajari is the �Acquetta� of Persia, and derives its name from the present royal family. It is said to be a mixture of verdigris with milk; if so, it is a very clumsy engine of state policy. In Egypt and Mosul, Sulaymani (the common name for an Afghan) is used to signify �poison�; but I know not whether it be merely euphuistic or confined to some species. The banks of the Nile are infamous for these arts, and Mohammed Ali Pasha imported, it is said, professional poisoners from Europe. [FN#18] Throughout the world the strictness of the Lex Scripta is in inverse ratio to that of custom: whenever the former is lax, the latter is stringent, and vice versa. Thus in England, where law leaves men comparatively free, they are slaves to a grinding despotism of conventionalities, unknown in the land of tyrannical rule. This explains why many men, accustomed to live under despotic governments, feel fettered and enslaved in the so-called free countries. Hence, also, the reason why notably in a republic there is less private and practical liberty than under a despotism. The �Kazi al-Arab� (Judge of the Arabs) is in distinction to the Kazi al-Shara, or the Kazi of the Koran. The former is, almost always, some sharp-witted greybeard, with a minute knowledge of genealogy and precedents, a retentive memory and an eloquent tongue. [FN#19] Thus the Arabs, being decidedly a parsimonious people, indulge in exaggerated praises and instances of liberality. Hatim Tai, whose generosity is unintelligible to Europeans, becomes the Arab model of the �open hand.� Generally a high beau ideal is no proof of a people�s practical pre-eminence, and when exaggeration enters into it and suits the public taste, a low standard of actuality may be fairly suspected. But to convince the oriental mind you must dazzle it. Hence, in part, the superhuman courage of Antar, the liberality of Hatim, the justice of Omar, and the purity of Laila and Majnun under circumstances more trying than aught chronicled in Mathilde, or in the newest American novel. [FN#20] At the battle of Bissel, when Mohammed Ali of Egypt broke the 40,000 guerillas of Faisal son of Sa�ud the Wahhabi, whole lines of the Benu Asir tribe were found dead and tied by the legs with ropes. This system of colligation dates from old times in Arabia, as the �Affair of Chains� (Zat al-Salasil) proves. It is alluded to by the late Sir Henry Elliot in his �Appendix to the Arabs in Sind,��a work of remarkable sagacity and research. According to the �Beglar-Nameh,� it was a �custom of the people of Hind and Sind, whenever they devote themselves to death, to bind themselves to each other by their mantles and waistbands.� It seems to have been an ancient practice in the West as in the East: the Cimbri, to quote no other instances, were tied together with cords when attacked by Marius. Tactic truly worthy of savages to prepare for victory by expecting a defeat! [FN#21] Though differing in opinion, upon one subject, from the Rev. Mr. Robertson, the lamented author of this little work, I cannot refrain from expressing the highest admiration of those noble thoughts, those exalted views, and those polished sentiments which, combining the delicacy of the present with the chivalry of a past age, appear in a style �As smooth as woman and as strong as man.� Would that it were in my power to pay a more adequate tribute to his memory! [FN#22] Even Juno, in the most meaningless of idolatries, became, according to Pausanias (lib. ii. cap. 38), a virgin once every year. And be it observed that Al-Islam (the faith, not the practice) popularly decided to debase the social state of womankind, exalts it by holding up to view no fewer than two examples of perfection in the Prophet�s household. Khadijah, his first wife, was a minor saint, and the Lady Fatimah is supposed to have been spiritually unspotted by sin, and materially ever a virgin, even after giving birth to Hasan and to Hosayn. [FN#23] There is no objection to intermarriage between equal clans, but the higher will not give their daughters to the lower in dignity. [FN#24] For instance: �A certain religious man was so deeply affected with the love of a king�s daughter, that he was brought to the brink of the grave,� is a favourite inscriptive formula. Usually the hero �sickens in consequence of the heroine�s absence, and continues to the hour of his death in the utmost grief and anxiety.� He rarely kills himself, but sometimes, when in love with a pretty infidel, he drinks wine and he burns the Koran. The �hated rival� is not a formidable person; but there are for good reasons great jealousy of female friends, and not a little fear of the beloved�s kinsmen. Such are the material sentiments; the spiritual part is a thread of mysticism, upon which all the pearls of adventure and incident are strung. [FN#25] It is curious that these pastoral races, which supply poetry with namby-pamby Colinades, figure as the great tragedians of history. The Scythians, the Huns, the Arabs, and the Tartars were all shepherds. They first armed themselves with clubs to defend their flocks from wild beasts. Then they learned warfare, and improved means of destruction by petty quarrels about pastures; and, finally, united by the commanding genius of some skin-clad Caesar or Napoleon, they fell like avalanches upon those valleys of the world�Mesopotamia, India, and Egypt�whose enervate races offered them at once temptations to attack, and certainty of success. [FN#26] Even amongst the Indians, as a race the least chivalrous of men, there is an oath which binds two persons of different sex in the tie of friendship, by making them brother and sister to each other. [FN#27] Richardson derives our �knight� from Nikht ([Arabic]), a tilter with spears, and �Caitiff� from Khattaf, ([Arabic]) a snatcher or ravisher. [FN#28] I am not ignorant that the greater part of �Antar� is of modern and disputed origin. Still it accurately expresses Arab sentiment. [FN#29] I wish that the clever Orientalist who writes in the Saturday Review would not translate �Al-Layl,� by lenes sub nocte susurri: the Arab bard alluded to no such effeminacies. [FN#30] The subject of �Dakhl� has been thoroughly exhausted by Burckhardt and Layard. It only remains to be said that the Turks, through ignorance of the custom, have in some cases made themselves contemptible by claiming the protection of women. [FN#31] It is by no means intended to push this comparison of the Arab�s with the Hibernian�s poetry. The former has an intensity which prevents our feeling that �there are too many flowers for the fruit�; the latter is too often a mere blaze of words, which dazzle and startle, but which, decomposed by reflection, are found to mean nothing. Witness �The diamond turrets of Shadukiam, And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad!� [FN#32] I am informed that the Benu Kahtan still improvise, but I never heard them. The traveller in Arabia will always be told that some remote clan still produces mighty bards, and uses in conversation the terminal vowels of the classic tongue, but he will not believe these assertions till personally convinced of their truth. The Badawi dialect, however, though debased, is still, as of yore, purer than the language of the citizens. During the days when philology was a passion in the East, those Stephens and Johnsons of Semitic lore, Firuzabadi and Al-Zamakhshari, wandered from tribe to tribe and from tent to tent, collecting words and elucidating disputed significations. Their grammatical expeditions are still remembered, and are favourite stories with scholars. [FN#33] I say �skilful in reading,� because the Arabs, like the Spaniards, hate to hear their language mangled by mispronunciation. When Burckhardt, who spoke badly, began to read verse to the Badawin, they could not refrain from a movement of impatience, and used to snatch the book out of his hands. [FN#34] The civilized poets of the Arab cities throw the charm of the Desert over their verse, by images borrowed from its scenery�the dromedary, the mirage, and the well�as naturally as certain of our songsters, confessedly haters of the country, babble of lowing kine, shady groves, spring showers, and purling rills. [FN#35] Some will object to this expression; Arabic being a harsh and guttural tongue. But the sound of language, in the first place, depends chiefly upon the articulator. Who thinks German rough in the mouth of a woman, with a suspicion of a lisp, or that English is the dialect of birds, when spoken by an Italian? Secondly, there is a music far more spirit-stirring in harshness than in softness: the languages of Castile and of Tuscany are equally beautiful, yet who does not prefer the sound of the former? The gutturality of Arabia is less offensive than that of the highlands of Barbary. Professor Willis, of Cambridge, attributes the broad sounds and the guttural consonants of mountaineers and the people of elevated plains to the physical action of cold. Conceding this to be a partial cause, I would rather refer the phenomenon to the habit of loud speaking, acquired by the dwellers in tents, and by those who live much in the open air. The Todas of the Neilgherry Hills have given the soft Tamil all the harshness of Arabic, and he who hears them calling to each other from the neighbouring peaks, can remark the process of broadening vowel and gutturalising consonant. On the other hand, the Gallas and the Persians, also a mountain-people, but inhabiting houses, speak comparatively soft tongues. The Cairenes actually omit some of the harshest sounds of Arabia, turning Makass into Ma�as, and Sakka into Sa�a. It is impossible to help remarking the bellowing of the Badawi when he first enters a dwelling-place, and the softening of the sound when he has become accustomed to speak within walls. Moreover, it is to be observed there is a great difference of articulation, not pronunciation, among the several Badawi clans. The Benu Auf are recognised by their sharp, loud, and sudden speech, which the citizens compare to the barking of dogs. The Benu Amr, on the contrary, speak with a soft and drawling sound. The Hutaym, in addition to other peculiarities, add a pleonastic �ah,� to soften the termination of words, as A�atini hawajiyah, (for hawaiji), �Give me my clothes.� [FN#36] The Germans have returned for inspiration to the old Eastern source. Ruckert was guided by Jalal al-Din to the fountains of Sufyism. And even the French have of late made an inroad into Teutonic mysticism successfully enough to have astonished Racine and horrified La Harpe. [FN#37] This, however, does not prevent the language becoming optionally most precise in meaning; hence its high philosophical character. The word �farz,� for instance, means, radically �cutting,� secondarily �ordering,� or �paying a debt,� after which come numerous meanings foreign to the primal sense, such as a shield, part of a tinder-box, an unfeathered arrow, and a particular kind of date. In theology it is limited to a single signification, namely, a divine command revealed in the Koran. Under these circumstances the Arabic becomes, in grammar, logic, rhetoric, and mathematics, as perfect and precise as Greek. I have heard Europeans complain that it is unfit for mercantile transactions.�Perhaps! [FN#38] As a general rule there is a rhyme at the end of every second line, and the unison is a mere fringe�a long a, for instance, throughout the poem sufficing for the delicate ear of the Arab. In this they were imitated by the old Spaniards, who, neglecting the consonants, merely required the terminating vowels to be alike. We speak of the �sort of harmonious simple flow which atones for the imperfect nature of the rhyme.� But the fine organs of some races would be hurt by that ponderous unison which a people of blunter senses find necessary to produce an impression. The reader will feel this after perusing in �Percy�s Reliques� Rio Verde! Rio Verde! and its translation. [FN#39] In our knightly ages the mare was ridden only by jugglers and charlatans. Did this custom arise from the hatred of, and contempt for, the habits of the Arabs, imported into Europe by the Crusaders? Certainly the popular Eastern idea of a Frank was formed in those days, and survives to these. [FN#40] Baron Von Hammer-Purgstall, in the �Falkner-Klee,� calls this bird the �Saker-falke.� Hence the French and English names sacre and saker. The learned John Beckmann (History of Inventions, Discoveries, and Origins: sub voce) derives falconry from India, where, �as early as the time of Ctesias, hares and foxes were hunted by means of rapacious birds.� I believe, however, that no trace of this sport is found in the writings of the Hindus. Beckmann agrees with Giraldus, against other literati, that the ancient Greeks knew the art of hawking, and proves from Aristotle, that in Thrace men trained falcons. But Aristotle alludes to the use of the bird, as an owl is employed in Italy: the falcon is described as frightening, not catching the birds. �lian corroborates Aristotle�s testimony. Pliny, however, distinctly asserts that the hawks strike their prey down. �In Italy it was very common,� says the learned Beckmann, �for Martial and Apuleius speak of it as a thing everywhere known. Hence the science spread over Europe, and reached perfection at the principal courts in the twelfth century.� The Emperor Frederic II. wrote �De Arte Venandi cum Avibus,� and the royal author was followed by a host of imitators in the vulgar tongue. Though I am not aware that the Hindus ever cultivated the art, �lian, it must be confessed, describes their style of training falcons exactly similar to that in use among the modern Persians, Sindians, and Arabs. The Emperor Frederic owes the �capella,� or hood to the Badawi, and talks of the �most expert falconers� sent to him with various kinds of birds by some of the kings of Arabia. The origin of falconry is ascribed by Al-Mas�udi, on the authority of Adham bin Muhriz, to the king Al-Haris bin Mu�awiyah, and in Dr. Sprenger�s admirable translation the reader will find (pp. 426, 428), much information upon the subject. The Persians claim the invention for their just King, Anushirawan, contemporary with Mohammed. Thence the sport passed into Turkey, where it is said the Sultans maintained a body of 6000 falconers. And Frederic Barbarossa, in the twelfth century, brought falcons to Italy. We may fairly give the honour of the invention to Central Asia. [FN#41] Here called �bandukiyah bi ruhayn,� or the two-mouthed gun. The leathern cover is termed �gushat�; it is a bag with a long-ringed tassel at the top of the barrel, and a strap by which it is slung to the owner�s back. [FN#42] I described elsewhere the Mirzak, or javelin. [FN#43] Ostriches are found in Al-Hijaz, where the Badawin shoot after coursing them. The young ones are caught and tamed, and the eggs may be bought in the Madinah bazar. Throughout Arabia there is a belief that the ostrich throws stones at the hunter. The superstition may have arisen from the pebbles being flung up behind by the bird�s large feet in his rapid flight, or it may be a mere �foolery of fancy.� Even in lands which have long given up animal-worship, wherever a beast is conspicuous or terrible, it becomes the subject of some marvellous tale. So the bear in Persia imitates a moolah�s dress; the wolf in France is a human being transformed, and the beaver of North America, also a metamorphosis, belts trees so as to fell them in the direction most suitable to his after purpose. [FN#44] Not that the �Agrebi� of Bir Hamid and other parts have much to learn of us in vice. The land of Al-Yaman is, I believe, the most demoralised country, and Sana�a the most depraved city in Arabia. The fair sex distinguishes itself by a peculiar laxity of conduct, which is looked upon with an indulgent eye. And the men drink and gamble, to say nothing of other peccadilloes, with perfect impunity. [FN#45] In Al-Yaman, it is believed, that if a man eat three heads of garlic in good mountain-samn (or clarified butter) for forty days, his blood will kill the snake that draws it. [FN#46] Circumcisionis causa apud Arabos manifestissima, ulceratio enim endemica, abrasionem glandis aut praeputii, maxima cum facilitate insequitur. Mos autem quem vocant Arabes Al-Salkh ([Arabic] i.e. scarificatio) virilitatem animumque ostendendi modus esse videtur. Exeunt amici paterque, et juvenem sub dio sedentem circumstant. Capit tunc pugionem tonsor et præputio abscisso detrahit pellem [Greek] ab umbilico incipiens aut parum infra, ventremque usque ad femora nudat. Juvenis autem dextra pugionem super tergum tonsoris vibrans magna clamat voce [Arabic] i.e. caede sine timore. Vae si haesitet tonsor aut si tremeat manus! Pater etiam filium si dolore ululet statim occidit. Re confecta surgit juvenis et [Arabic] �Gloria Deo� intonans, ad tentoria tendit, statim nefando oppressus dolore humi procumbit. Remedia Sal, et [Arabic] (tumerica); cibus lac cameli. Nonnullos occidit ingens suppuratio, decem autem excoriatis supersunt plerumque octo: hi pecten habent nullum, ventremque pallida tegit cutis. [FN#47] The Spanish dollar is most prized in Al-Hijaz; in Al-Yaman the Maria Theresa. The Spanish Government has refused to perpetuate its Pillar-dollar, which at one time was so great a favourite in the East. The traveller wonders how �Maria Theresas� still supply both shores of the Red Sea. The marvel is easily explained: the Austrians receive silver at Milan, and stamp it for a certain percentage. This coin was doubtless preferred by the Badawin for its superiority to the currency of the day: they make from it ornaments for their women and decorations for their weapons. The generic term for dollars is �Riyal Fransah.� [FN#48] Torale, sicut est mos Judaicus et Persicus, non inspiciunt. Novae nuptae tamen maritus mappam manu capit: mane autem puellae mater virginitatis signa viris mulieribusque domi ostendit eosque jubilare jubet quod calamitas domestica, sc. filia, intacta abiit. Si non ostendeant mappam, maeret domus, �prima enim Venus� in Arabia, �debet esse cruenta.� Maritus autem humanior, etiamsi absit sanguis, cruore palumbino mappam tingit et gaudium fingens cognatis parentibusque ostendit; paululum postea puellae nonnulla causa dat divortium. Hic urbis et ruris mos idem est. [FN#49] An explanation of this term will be found below. [FN#50] It is the plural of �Kaum,� which means �rising up in rebellion or enmity against,� as well as the popular signification, a �people.� In some parts of Arabia it is used for a �plundering party.� [FN#51] Bayt (in the plural Buyut) is used in this sense to denote the tents of the nomades. �Bayt� radically means a �nighting-place�; thence a tent, a house, a lair, &c., &c. [FN#52] Some tribes will not sell their sheep, keeping them for guests or feasts. [FN#53] So the word is pronounced at Meccah. The dictionaries give �Aakal,� which in Eastern Arabia is corrupted to �Igal.� [FN#54] Called �Tatarif,� plural of Tatrifah, a cartridge. [FN#55] The liver and the spleen are both supposed to be �congealed blood.� Niebuhr has exhausted the names and the description of the locust. In Al-Hijaz they have many local and fantastic terms: the smallest kind, for instance, is called Jarad Iblis, Satan�s locust. [FN#56] This is the Kurut of Sind and the Kashk of Persia. The butter-milk, separated from the butter by a little water, is simmered over a slow fire, thickened with wheaten flour, about a handful to a gallon, well-mixed, so that no knots remain in it, and allowed to cool. The mixture is then put into a bag and strained, after which salt is sprinkled over it. The mass begins to harden after a few hours, when it is made up into balls and dried in the sun. [FN#57] The North American trappers adopted this natural prejudice: the �free trapper� called his more civilized confrere, �mangeur de lard.� [FN#58] Burckhardt shrank from the intricate pedigree of the Meccan Sharifs. I have seen a work upon the subject in four folio volumes in point of matter equivalent to treble the number in Europe. The best known genealogical works are Al-Kalkashandi (originally in seventy-five books, extended to one hundred); the Umdat al-Tullab by Ibn Khaldun; the �Tohfat al-Arab fi Ansar al-Arab,� a well-known volume by Al-Siyuti; and, lastly, the Sirat al-Halabi, in six volumes 8vo. Of the latter work there is an abridgment by Mohammed al-Banna al-Dimyati in two volumes 8vo.; but both are rare, and consequently expensive. [FN#59] I give the following details of the Harb upon the authority of my friend Omar Effendi, who is great in matters of genealogy. [FN#60]The first word is the plural, the second the singular form of the word. [FN#61] In the singular Aufi and Amri. [FN#62] To these Mr. Cole adds seven other sub-divisions, viz.:� 1. Ahali al-Kura (�the people of Kura?�), 5000. 2. Radadah, 800. 3. Hijlah, 600. 4. Dubayah, 1500. 5. Benu Kalb, 2000. 6. Bayzanah, 800. 7. Benu Yahya, 800. And he makes the total of the Benu Harb about Al-Jadaydah amount to 35,000 men. I had no means of personally ascertaining the correctness of this information. [FN#63] The reader will remember that nothing like exactitude in numbers can be expected from an Arab. Some rate the Benu Harb at 6000; others, equally well informed, at 15,000; others again at 80,000. The reason of this is that, whilst one is speaking of the whole race, another may be limiting it to his own tribe and its immediate allies. [FN#64] �Sham� which, properly speaking, means Damascus or Syria, in Southern Arabia and Eastern Africa is universally applied to Al-Hijaz. [p.124] CHAPTER XXVI. FROM AL-SUWAYRKIYAH TO MECCAH. WE have now left the territory of Al-Madinah. Al-Suwayrkiyah, which belongs to the Sharif of Meccah, is about twenty-eight miles distant from Hijriyah, and by dead reckoning ninety-nine miles along the road from the Prophet�s burial-place. Its bearing from the last station was S.W. 11°. The town, consisting of about one hundred houses, is built at the base and on the sides of a basaltic mass, which rises abruptly from the hard clayey plain. The summit is converted into a rude fortalice�without one, no settlement can exist in Al-Hijaz�by a bulwark of uncut stone, piled up so as to make a parapet. The lower part of the town is protected by a mud wall, with the usual semicircular towers. Inside there is a bazar, well supplied with meat (principally mutton) by the neighbouring Badawin; and wheat, barley, and dates are grown near the town. There is little to describe in the narrow streets and the mud houses, which are essentially Arab. The fields around are divided into little square plots by earthen ridges and stone walls; some of the palms are fine-grown trees, and the wells appear numerous. The water is near the surface and plentiful, but it has a brackish taste, highly disagreeable after a few days� use, and the effects are the reverse of chalybeate. The town belongs to the Benu Hosayn, a race of [p.125] schismatics mentioned in the foregoing pages. They claim the allegiance of the Badawi tribes around, principally Mutayr, and I was informed that their fealty to the Prince of Meccah is merely nominal. The morning after our arrival at Al-Suwayrkiyah witnessed a commotion in our little party: hitherto they had kept together in fear of the road. Among the number was one Ali bin Ya Sin, a perfect �old man of the sea.� By profession he was a �Zemzemi,� or dispenser of water from the Holy Well,[FN#1] and he had a handsome �palazzo� at the foot of Abu Kubays in Meccah, which he periodically converted into a boarding-house. Though past sixty, very decrepit, bent by age, white-bearded, and toothless, he still acted cicerone to pilgrims, and for that purpose travelled once every year to Al-Madinah. These trips had given him the cunning of a veteran voyageur. He lived well and cheaply; his home-made Shugduf, the model of comfort, was garnished with soft cushions and pillows, whilst from the pockets protruded select bottles of pickled limes and similar luxuries; he had his travelling Shishah (water-pipe),[FN#2] and at the halting-place, disdaining the crowded, reeking tent, he had a contrivance for converting his vehicle into a habitation. He was a type of the Arab old man. He mumbled all day and three-quarters of the night, for he had des insomnies. His nerves were so fine, that if any [p.126] one mounted his Shugduf, the unfortunate was condemned to lie like a statue. Fidgety and priggishly neat, nothing annoyed him so much as a moment�s delay or an article out of place, a rag removed from his water-gugglet, or a cooking-pot imperfectly free from soot; and I judged his avarice by observing that he made a point of picking up and eating the grains scattered from our pomegranates, exclaiming that the heavenly seed (located there by Arab superstition) might be one of those so wantonly wasted. Ali bin Ya Sin, returning to his native city, had not been happy in his choice of a companion this time. The other occupant of the handsome Shugduf was an ignoble-faced Egyptian from Al-Madinah. This ill-suited pair clave together for awhile, but at Al-Suwayrkiyah some dispute about a copper coin made them permanent foes. With threats and abuse such as none but an Egyptian could tamely hear, Ali kicked his quondam friend out of the vehicle. But terrified, after reflection, by the possibility that the man, now his enemy, might combine with two or three Syrians of our party to do him a harm, and frightened by a few black looks, the senior determined to fortify himself by a friend. Connected with the boy Mohammed�s family, he easily obtained an introduction to me; he kissed my hand with great servility, declared that his servant had behaved disgracefully; and begged my protection together with an occasional attendance of my �slave.� This was readily granted in pity for the old man, who became immensely grateful. He offered at once to take Shaykh Nur into his Shugduf. The Indian boy had already reduced to ruins the frail structure of his Shibriyah by lying upon it lengthways, whereas prudent travellers sit in it cross-legged and facing the camel. Moreover, he had been laughed to scorn by the Badawin, who seeing him pull up his dromedary to mount and dismount, had questioned his sex, and determined him to be [p.127] a woman of the �Miyan.[FN#3]� I could not rebuke them; the poor fellow�s timidity was a ridiculous contrast to the Badawi�s style of mounting; a pull at the camel�s head, the left foot placed on the neck, an agile spring, and a scramble into the saddle. Shaykh Nur, elated by the sight of old Ali�s luxuries, promised himself some joyous hours; but next morning he owned with a sigh that he had purchased splendour at the extravagant price of happiness�the senior�s tongue never rested throughout the livelong night. During our half-halt at Al-Suwayrkiyah we determined to have a small feast; we bought some fresh dates, and we paid a dollar and a half for a sheep. Hungry travellers consider �liver and fry� a dish to set before a Shaykh. On this occasion, however, our enjoyment was marred by the water; even Soyer�s dinners would scarcely charm if washed down with cups of a certain mineral-spring found at Epsom. We started at ten A.M. (Monday, 5th September) in a South-Easterly direction, and travelled over a flat, thinly dotted with Desert vegetation. At one P.M we passed a basaltic ridge; and then, entering a long depressed line of country, a kind of valley, paced down it five tedious hours. The Samum as usual was blowing hard, and it seemed to affect the travellers� tempers. In one place I saw a Turk, who could not speak a word of Arabic, violently disputing with an Arab who could not understand a word of Turkish. The pilgrim insisted upon adding to the camel�s load a few dry sticks, such as are picked up for cooking. The camel-man as perseveringly threw off the extra burthen. They screamed with rage, hustled each other, and at last the Turk dealt the Arab a heavy blow. I afterwards heard that the pilgrim was mortally wounded that night, his stomach being ripped [p.128] open with a dagger. On enquiring what had become of him, I was assured that he had been comfortably wrapped up in his shroud, and placed in a half-dug grave. This is the general practice in the case of the poor and solitary, whom illness or accident incapacitates from proceeding. It is impossible to contemplate such a fate without horror: the torturing thirst of a wound,[FN#4] the burning sun heating the brain to madness, and�worst of all, for they do not wait till death�the attacks of the jackal, the vulture, and the raven of the wild. At six P.M., before the light of day had faded, we traversed a rough and troublesome ridge. Descending it our course lay in a southerly direction along a road flanked on the left by low hills of red sandstone and bright porphyry. About an hour afterwards we came to a basalt field, through whose blocks we threaded our way painfully and slowly, for it was then dark. At eight P.M. the camels began to stumble over the dwarf dykes of the wheat and barley fields, and presently we arrived at our halting-place, a large village called Al-Sufayna. The plain was already dotted with tents and lights. We found the Baghdad Caravan, whose route here falls into the Darb al-Sharki. It consists of a few Persians and Kurds, and collects the people of North-Eastern Arabia, Wahhabis and others. They are escorted by the Agayl tribe and by the fierce mountaineers of Jabal Shammar. Scarcely was our tent pitched, when the distant pattering of musketry and an ominous tapping of the kettle-drum sent all my companions in different directions to enquire what was the cause of quarrel. The Baghdad Cafilah, though not more than 2000 in number, men, women and children, had been proving to the Damascus Caravan, that, being perfectly ready to fight, they were not going to yield any point of precedence. From that time the two bodies [p.129] encamped in different places. I never saw a more pugnacious assembly: a look sufficed for a quarrel. Once a Wahhabi stood in front of us, and by pointing with his finger and other insulting gestures, showed his hatred to the chibuk, in which I was peaceably indulging. It was impossible to refrain from chastising his insolence by a polite and smiling offer of the offending pipe. This made him draw his dagger without a thought; but it was sheathed again, for we all cocked our pistols, and these gentry prefer steel to lead. We had travelled about seventeen miles, and the direction of Al-Sufayna from our last halting place was South-East five degrees. Though it was night when we encamped, Shaykh Mas�ud set out to water his moaning camels: they had not quenched their thirst for three days. He returned in a depressed state, having been bled by the soldiery at the well to the extent of forty piastres, or about eight shillings. After supper we spread our rugs and prepared to rest. And here I first remarked the coolness of the nights, proving, at this season of the year, a considerable altitude above the sea. As a general rule the atmosphere stagnated between sunrise and ten A.M., when a light wind rose. During the forenoon the breeze strengthened, and it gradually diminished through the afternoon. Often about sunset there was a gale accompanied by dry storms of dust. At Al-Sufayna, though there was no night-breeze and little dew, a blanket was necessary, and the hours of darkness were invigorating enough to mitigate the effect of the sand and Samum-ridden day. Before sleeping I was introduced to a namesake, one Shaykh Abdullah, of Meccah. Having committed his Shugduf to his son, a lad of fourteen, he had ridden forward on a dromedary, and had suddenly fallen ill. His objects in meeting me were to ask for some medicine, and for a temporary seat in my Shugduf; the latter I offered with pleasure, as the boy Mohammed was [p.130] longing to mount a camel. The Shaykh�s illness was nothing but weakness brought on by the hardships of the journey: he attributed it to the hot wind, and to the weight of a bag of dollars which he had attached to his waist-belt. He was a man about forty, long, thin, pale, and of a purely nervous temperament; and a few questions elicited the fact that he had lately and suddenly given up his daily opium pill. I prepared one for him, placed him in my litter, and persuaded him to stow away his burden in some place where it would be less troublesome. He was my companion for two marches, at the end of which he found his own Shugduf. I never met amongst the Arab citizens a better bred or a better informed man. At Constantinople he had learned a little French, Italian, and Greek; and from the properties of a shrub to the varieties of honey,[FN#5] he was full of � useful knowledge,� and openable as a dictionary. We parted near Meccah, where I met him only once, and then accidentally, in the Valley of Muna. At half-past five A.M. on Tuesday, the 6th of September, we rose refreshed by the cool, comfortable night, and loaded the camels. I had an opportunity of inspecting Al-Sufayna. It is a village of fifty or sixty mud-walled, flat-roofed houses, defended by the usual rampart. Around it lie ample date-grounds, and fields of wheat, barley, and maize. Its bazar at this season of the year is well supplied: even fowls can be procured. We travelled towards the South-East, and entered a country destitute of the low ranges of hill, which from Al-Madinah southwards had bounded the horizon. After [p.131] a two miles� march our camels climbed up a precipitous ridge, and then descended into a broad gravel plain. From ten to eleven A.M. our course lay southerly over a high table-land, and we afterwards traversed, for five hours and a half, a plain which bore signs of standing water. This day�s march was peculiarly Arabia. It was a desert peopled only with echoes,�a place of death for what little there is to die in it,�a wilderness where, to use my companion�s phrase, there is nothing but He.[FN#6] Nature scalped, flayed, discovered all her skeleton to the gazer�s eye. The horizon was a sea of mirage; gigantic sand-columns whirled over the plain; and on both sides of our road were huge piles of bare rock, standing detached upon the surface of sand and clay. Here they appeared in oval lumps, heaped up with a semblance of symmetry; there a single boulder stood, with its narrow foundation based upon a pedestal of low, dome-shapen rock. All were of a pink coarse-grained granite, which flakes off in large crusts under the influence of the atmosphere. I remarked one block which could not measure fewer than thirty feet in height. Through these scenes we travelled till about half-past four P.M., when the guns suddenly roared a halt. There was not a trace of human habitation around us: a few parched shrubs and the granite heaps were the only objects diversifying the hard clayey plain. Shaykh Mas�ud correctly guessed the cause of our detention at the inhospitable �halting-place of the Mutayr� (Badawin). �Cook your bread and boil your coffee,� said the old man; �the camels will rest for awhile, and the gun will sound at nightfall.� We had passed over about eighteen miles of ground; and our present direction was South-west twenty degrees of Al-Sufayna. At half-past ten that evening we heard the signal for [p.132] departure, and, as the moon was still young, we prepared for a hard night�s work. We took a south-westerly course through what is called a Wa�ar�rough ground covered with thicket. Darkness fell upon us like a pall. The camels tripped and stumbled, tossing their litters like cockboats in a short sea; at times the Shugdufs were well nigh torn off their backs. When we came to a ridge worse than usual, old Mas�ud would seize my camel�s halter, and, accompanied by his son and nephew bearing lights, encourage the animals with gesture and voice. It was a strange, wild scene. The black basaltic field was dotted with the huge and doubtful forms of spongy-footed camels with silent tread, looming like phantoms in the midnight air; the hot wind moaned, and whirled from the torches flakes and sheets of flame and fiery smoke, whilst ever and anon a swift-travelling Takht-rawan, drawn by mules, and surrounded by runners bearing gigantic mashals or cressets,[FN#7] threw a passing glow of red light upon the dark road and the dusky multitude. On this occasion the rule was �every man for himself.� Each pressed forward into the best path, thinking only of preceding his neighbour. The Syrians, amongst whom our little party had become entangled, proved most unpleasant companions: they often stopped the way, insisting upon their right to precedence. On one occasion a horseman had the audacity to untie the halter of my dromedary, and thus to cast us adrift, as it were, in order to make room for some excluded friend. I seized my sword; but Shaykh Abdullah stayed my hand, and addressed the intruder in terms sufficiently violent to make him slink away. Nor was this the only occasion on which my [p.133] companion was successful with the Syrians. He would begin with a mild �Move a little, O my father!� followed, if fruitless, by �Out of the way, O Father of Syria[FN#8]!� and if still ineffectual, advancing to a �Begone, O he!� This ranged between civility and sternness. If without effect, it was supported by revilings to the �Abusers of the Salt,� the �Yazid,� the �Offspring of Shimr.� Another remark which I made about my companion�s conduct well illustrates the difference between the Eastern and the Western man. When traversing a dangerous place, Shaykh Abdullah the European attended to his camel with loud cries of �Hai! Hai[FN#9]!� and an occasional switching. Shaykh Abdullah the Asiatic commended himself to Allah by repeated ejaculations of Ya Satir! Ya Sattar[FN#10]! [p.134]The morning of Wednesday (September 7th) broke as we entered a wide plain. In many places were signs of water: lines of basalt here and there seamed the surface, and wide sheets of the tufaceous gypsum called by the Arabs Sabkhah shone like mirrors set in the russet framework of the flat. This substance is found in cakes, often a foot long by an inch in depth, curled by the sun�s rays and overlying clay into which water had sunk. After our harassing night, day came on with a sad feeling of oppression, greatly increased by the unnatural glare:� �In vain the sight, dejected to the ground, Stoop�d for relief: thence hot ascending streams And keen reflection pain�d.� We were disappointed in our expectations of water, which usually abounds near this station, as its name, Al-Ghadir, denotes. At ten A.M. we pitched the tent in the first convenient spot, and we lost no time in stretching our cramped limbs upon the bosom of mother Earth. From the halting-place of the Mutayr to Al-Ghadir is a march of about twenty miles, and the direction south-west twenty-one degrees. Al-Ghadir is an extensive plain, which probably presents the appearance of a lake after heavy rains. It is overgrown in parts with Desert vegetation, and requires nothing but a regular supply of water to make it useful to man. On the East it is bounded by a wall of rock, at whose base are three wells, said to have been dug by the Caliph Harun. They are guarded by a Burj, or tower, which betrays symptoms of decay. In our anxiety to rest we had strayed from the Damascus Caravan amongst the mountaineers of Shammar. Our Shaykh Mas�ud manifestly did not like the company; for shortly after three P.M. he insisted upon our striking the tent and rejoining the Hajj, which lay encamped about two miles distant in the western part of the basin. We [p.135] loaded, therefore, and half an hour before sunset found ourselves in more congenial society. To my great disappointment, a stir was observable in the Caravan. I at once understood that another night-march was in store for us. At six P.M. we again mounted, and turned towards the Eastern plain. A heavy shower was falling upon the Western hills, whence came damp and dangerous blasts. Between nine P.M. and the dawn of the next day we had a repetition of the last night�s scenes, over a road so rugged and dangerous, that I wondered how men could prefer to travel in the darkness. But the camels of Damascus were now worn out with fatigue; they could not endure the sun, and our time was too precious for a halt. My night was spent perched upon the front bar of my Shugduf, encouraging the dromedary; and that we had not one fall excited my extreme astonishment. At five A.M. (Thursday, 8th September) we entered a wide plain thickly clothed with the usual thorny trees, in whose strong grasp many a Shugduf lost its covering, and not a few were dragged with their screaming inmates to the ground. About five hours afterwards we crossed a high ridge, and saw below us the camp of the Caravan, not more than two miles distant. As we approached it, a figure came running out to meet us. It was the boy Mohammed, who, heartily tired of riding a dromedary with his friend, and possibly hungry, hastened to inform my companion Abdullah that he would lead him to his Shugduf and to his son. The Shaykh, a little offended by the fact that for two days not a friend nor an acquaintance had taken the trouble to see or to inquire about him, received Mohammed roughly; but the youth, guessing the grievance, explained it away by swearing that he and all the party had tried in vain to find us. This wore the semblance of truth: it is almost impossible to come upon any one who strays from his place in so large and motley a body. [p.136]At eleven A.M. we had reached our station. It is about wenty-four miles from Al-Ghadir, and its direction is South-east ten degrees. It is called Al-Birkat (the Tank), from a large and now ruinous cistern built of hewn stone by the Caliph Harun.[FN#11] The land belongs to the Utaybah Badawin, the bravest and most ferocious tribe in Al-Hijaz; and the citizens denote their dread of these banditti by asserting that to increase their courage they drink their enemy�s blood.[FN#12] My companions shook their heads when questioned upon the subject, and prayed that we might not become too well acquainted with them�an ill-omened speech! The Pasha allowed us a rest of five hours at Al-Birkat: we spent them in my tent, which was crowded with Shaykh Abdullah�s friends. To requite me for this inconvenience, he prepared for me an excellent water-pipe, a cup of coffee, which, untainted by cloves and by cinnamon, would have been delicious, and a dish of dry fruits. As we were now near the Holy City, all the Meccans were busy canvassing for lodgers and offering their services to pilgrims. Quarrels, too, were of hourly occurrence. In our party was an Arnaut, a white-bearded old man, so [p.137] decrepit that he could scarcely stand, and yet so violent that no one could manage him but his African slave, a brazen-faced little wretch about fourteen years of age. Words were bandied between this angry senior and Shaykh Mas�ud, when the latter insinuated sarcastically, that if the former had teeth he would be more intelligible. The Arnaut in his rage seized a pole, raised it, and delivered a blow which missed the camel-man, but, which brought the striker headlong to the ground. Mas�ud exclaimed, with shrieks of rage, �Have we come to this, that every old-woman Turk smites us?� Our party had the greatest trouble to quiet the quarrel[l]ers. The Arab listened to us when we threatened him with the Pasha. But the Arnaut, whose rage was �like red-hot steel,� would hear nothing but our repeated declarations, that unless he behaved more like a pilgrim, we should be compelled to leave him and his slave behind. At four P.M. we left Al-Birkat, and travelled Eastwards over rolling ground thickly wooded. There was a network of footpaths through the thickets, and clouds obscured the moon; the consequence was inevitable loss of way. About 2 A.M. we began ascending hills in a south-westerly direction, and presently we fell into the bed of a large rock-girt Fiumara, which runs from east to west. The sands were overgrown with saline and salsolaceous plants; the Coloquintida, which, having no support, spreads along the ground[FN#13]; the Senna, with its small green leaf; the Rhazya stricta[FN#14]; and a large luxuriant variety of the Asclepias gigantea,[FN#15] cottoned over with [p.138] mist and dew. At 6 A.M. (Sept. 9th) we left the Fiumara, and, turning to the West, we arrived about an hour afterwards at the station. Al-Zaribah, �the valley,� is an undulating plain amongst high granite hills. In many parts it was faintly green; water was close to the surface, and rain stood upon the ground. During the night we had travelled about twenty-three miles, and our present station was south-east 56° from our last. Having pitched the tent and eaten and slept, we prepared to perform the ceremony of Al-Ihram (assuming the pilgrim-garb), as Al-Zaribah is the Mikat, or the appointed place.[FN#16] Between the noonday and the afternoon prayers a barber attended to shave our heads, cut our nails, and trim our mustachios. Then, having bathed and perfumed ourselves,�the latter is a questionable [p.139] point,�we donned the attire, which is nothing but two new cotton cloths, each six feet long by three and a half broad, white, with narrow red stripes and fringes: in fact, the costume called Al-Eddeh, in the baths at Cairo.[FN#17] One of these sheets, technically termed the Rida, is thrown over the back, and, exposing the arm and shoulder, is knotted at the right side in the style Wishah. The Izar is wrapped round the loins from waist to knee, and, knotted or tucked in at the middle, supports itself. Our heads were bare, and nothing was allowed upon the instep.[FN#18] It is said that some clans of Arabs still preserve this religious but most uncomfortable costume; it is doubtless of ancient date, and to this day, in the regions lying west of the Red Sea, it continues to be the common dress of the people. After the toilette, we were placed with our faces in the direction of Meccah, and ordered to say aloud,[FN#19] �I vow this Ihram of Hajj (the pilgrimage) and the Umrah (the Little pilgrimage) to Allah Almighty!� Having thus performed a two-bow prayer, we repeated, without rising from the sitting position, these words, �O Allah! verily I purpose the Hajj and the Umrah, then enable me to accomplish the two, and accept them both of me, and make both blessed to me!� Followed the Talbiyat, or exclaiming� �Here I am! O Allah! here am I� No partner hast Thou, here am I; Verily the praise and the grace are Thine, and the empire� [p.140] No partner hast Thou, here am I[FN#20]!� And we were warned to repeat these words as often as possible, until the conclusion of the ceremonies. Then Shaykh Abdullah, who acted as director of our consciences, bade us be good pilgrims, avoiding quarrels, immorality, bad language, and light conversation. We must so reverence life that we should avoid killing game, causing an animal to fly, and even pointing it out for destruction[FN#21]; nor should we scratch ourselves, save with the open palm, lest vermin be destroyed, or a hair uprooted by the nail. We were to respect the sanctuary by sparing the trees, and not to pluck a single blade of grass. As regards personal considerations, we were to abstain from all oils, perfumes, and unguents; from washing the head with mallow or with lote leaves; from dyeing, shaving, cutting, or vellicating a single pile or hair; and though we might take advantage of shade, and even form it with upraised hands, we must by no means cover our sconces. For each infraction of these ordinances we must sacrifice a sheep[FN#22]; and it is commonly said by Moslems that none [p.141] but the Prophet could be perfect in the intricacies of pilgrimage. Old Ali began with an irregularity: he declared that age prevented his assuming the garb, but that, arrived at Meccah, he would clear himself by an offering. The wife and daughters of a Turkish pilgrim of our party assumed the Ihram at the same time as ourselves. They appeared dresse in white garments; and they had exchanged the Lisam, that coquettish fold of muslin which veils without concealing the lower part of the face, for a hideous mask, made of split, dried, and plaited palm-leaves, with two �bulls�-eyes� for light.[FN#23] I could not help laughing when these strange figures met my sight, and, to judge from the shaking of their shoulders, they were not less susceptible to the merriment which they had caused. At three P.M. we left Al-Zaribah, travelling towards the South-West, and a wondrously picturesque scene met the eye. Crowds hurried along, habited in the pilgrim-garb, whose whiteness contrasted strangely with their black skins; their newly shaven heads glistening in the sun, and their long black hair streaming in the wind. The rocks rang with shouts of Labbayk! Labbayk! At a pass we fell in with the Wahhabis, accompanying the Baghdad Caravan, screaming �Here am I�; and, guided by a large loud kettle-drum, they followed in double file the camel of a standard-bearer, whose green flag bore in huge white letters the formula of the Moslem creed. They were wild-looking mountaineers, dark and fierce, with hair twisted into thin Dalik or plaits: each was armed with a long spear, a matchlock, or a dagger. They were seated upon coarse wooden saddles, without cushions or stirrups, a fine saddle-cloth alone denoting a [p.142] chief. The women emulated the men; they either guided their own dromedaries, or, sitting in pillion, they clung to their husbands; veils they disdained, and their countenances certainly belonged not to a �soft sex.� These Wahhabis were by no means pleasant companions. Most of them were followed by spare dromedaries, either unladen or carrying water-skins, fodder, fuel, and other necessaries for the march. The beasts delighted in dashing furiously through our file, which being lashed together, head and tail, was thrown each time into the greatest confusion. And whenever we were observed smoking, we were cursed aloud for Infidels and Idolaters. Looking back at Al-Zaribah, soon after our departure, I saw a heavy nimbus settle upon the hill-tops, a sheet of rain being stretched between it and the plain. The low grumbling of thunder sounded joyfully in our ears. We hoped for a shower, but were disappointed by a dust-storm, which ended with a few heavy drops. There arose a report that the Badawin had attacked a party of Meccans with stones, and the news caused men to look exceeding grave. At five P.M. we entered the wide bed of the Fiumara, down which we were to travel all night. Here the country falls rapidly towards the sea, as the increasing heat of the air, the direction of the watercourses, and signs of violence in the torrent-bed show. The Fiumara varies in breadth from a hundred and fifty feet to three-quarters of a mile; its course, I was told, is towards the South-West, and it enters the sea near Jeddah. The channel is a coarse sand, with here and there masses of sheet rock and patches of thin vegetation. At about half-past five P.M. we entered a suspicious-looking place. On the right was a stony buttress, along whose base the stream, when there is one, swings; and to this depression was our road limited by the rocks and thorn trees which filled the other half of the channel. [p.143] The left side was a precipice, grim and barren, but not so abrupt as its brother. Opposite us the way seemed barred by piles of hills, crest rising above crest into the far blue distance. Day still smiled upon the upper peaks, but the lower slopes and the Fiumara bed were already curtained with grey sombre shade. A damp seemed to fall upon our spirits as we approached this Valley Perilous. I remarked that the voices of the women and children sank into silence, and the loud Labbayk of the pilgrims were gradually stilled. Whilst still speculating upon the cause of this phenomenon, it became apparent. A small curl of the smoke, like a lady�s ringlet, on the summit of the right-hand precipice, caught my eye; and simultaneous with the echoing crack of the matchlock, a high-trotting dromedary in front of me rolled over upon the sands,�a bullet had split its heart,�throwing the rider a goodly somersault of five or six yards. Ensued terrible confusion; women screamed, children cried, and men vociferated, each one striving with might and main to urge his animal out of the place of death. But the road being narrow, they only managed to jam the vehicles in a solid immovable mass. At every match-lock shot, a shudder ran through the huge body, as when the surgeon�s scalpel touches some more sensitive nerve. The Irregular horsemen, perfectly useless, galloped up and down over the stones, shouting to and ordering one another. The Pasha of the army had his carpet spread at the foot of the left-hand precipice, and debated over his pipe with the officers what ought to be done. No good genius whispered �Crown the heights.� Then it was that the conduct of the Wahhabis found favour in my eyes. They came up, galloping their camels,� �Torrents less rapid, and less rash,� with their elf-locks tossing in the wind, and their flaring [p.144] matches casting a strange lurid light over their features. Taking up a position, one body began to fire upon the Utaybah robbers, whilst two or three hundred, dismounting, swarmed up the hill under the guidance of the Sharif Zayd. I had remarked this nobleman at Al-Madinah as a model specimen of the pure Arab. Like all Sharifs, he is celebrated for bravery, and has killed many with his own hand.[FN#24] When urged at Al-Zaribah to ride into Meccah, he swore that he would not leave the Caravan till in sight of the walls; and, fortunately for the pilgrims, he kept his word. Presently the firing was heard far in our rear, the robbers having fled. The head of the column advanced, and the dense body of pilgrims opened out. Our forced halt was now exchanged for a flight. It required much management to steer our Desert-craft clear of danger; but Shaykh Mas�ud was equal to the occasion. That many were not, was evident by the boxes and baggage that strewed the shingles. I had no means of ascertaining the number of men killed and wounded: reports were contradictory, and exaggeration unanimous. The robbers were said to be a hundred and fifty in number; their object was plunder, and they would eat the shot camels. But their principal ambition was the boast, �We, the Utaybah, on such and such a [p.145] night, stopped the Sultan�s Mahmil one whole hour in the Pass.� At the beginning of the skirmish I had primed my pistols, and sat with them ready for use. But soon seeing that there was nothing to be done, and wishing to make an impression,�nowhere does Bobadil now �go down� so well as in the East,�I called aloud for my supper. Shaykh Nur, exanimate with fear, could not move. The boy Mohammed ejaculated only an �Oh, sir!� and the people around exclaimed in disgust, �By Allah, he eats!� Shaykh Abdullah, the Meccan, being a man of spirit, was amused by the spectacle. �Are these Afghan manners, Effendim?� he enquired from the Shugduf behind me. �Yes,� I replied aloud, �in my country we always dine before an attack of robbers, because that gentry is in the habit of sending men to bed supperless.� The Shaykh laughed aloud, but those around him looked offended. I thought the bravado this time mal place; but a little event which took place on my way to Jeddah proved that it was not quite a failure. As we advanced, our escort took care to fire every large dry Asclepias, to disperse the shades which buried us. Again the scene became wondrous wild:� �Full many a waste I�ve wander�d o�er, Clomb many a crag, cross�d many a shore, But, by my halidome, A scene so rude, so wild as this, Yet so sublime in barrenness, Ne�er did my wandering footsteps press, Where�er I chanced to roam.� On either side were ribbed precipices, dark, angry, and towering above, till their summits mingled with the glooms of night; and between them formidable looked the chasm, down which our host hurried with shouts and discharges of matchlocks. The torch-smoke and the night-fires of flaming Asclepias formed a canopy, sable [p.146] above and livid red below; it hung over our heads like a sheet, and divided the cliffs into two equal parts. Here the fire flashed fiercely from a tall thorn, that crackled and shot up showers of sparks into the air; there it died away in lurid gleams, which lit up a truly Stygian scene. As usual, however, the picturesque had its inconveniences. There was no path. Rocks, stone-banks, and trees obstructed our passage. The camels, now blind in darkness, then dazzled by a flood of light, stumbled frequently; in some places slipping down a steep descent, in others sliding over a sheet of mud. There were furious quarrels and fierce language between camel-men and their hirers, and threats to fellow-travellers; in fact, we were united in discord. I passed that night crying, �Hai! Hai!� switching the camel, and fruitlessly endeavouring to fustigate Mas�ud�s nephew, who resolutely slept upon the water-bags. During the hours of darkness we made four or five halts, when we boiled coffee and smoked pipes; but man and beasts were beginning to suffer from a deadly fatigue. Dawn (Saturday, Sept. 10th) found us still travelling down the Fiumara, which here is about a hundred yards broad. The granite hills on both sides were less precipitous; and the borders of the torrent-bed became natural quays of stiff clay, which showed a water-mark of from twelve to fifteen feet in height. In many parts the bed was muddy; and the moist places, as usual, caused accidents. I happened to be looking back at Shaykh Abdullah, who was then riding in old Ali bin Ya Sin�s fine Shugduf; suddenly the camel�s four legs disappeared from under him, his right side flattening the ground, and the two riders were pitched severally out of the smashed vehicle. Abdullah started up furious, and with great zest abused the Badawin, who were absent. �Feed these Arabs,� he exclaimed, quoting a Turkish proverb, �and [p.147] they will fire at Heaven!� But I observed that, when Shaykh Mas�ud came up, the citizen was only gruff. We then turned Northward, and sighted Al-Mazik, more generally known as Wady Laymun, the Valley of Limes. On the right bank of the Fiumara stood the Meccan Sharif�s state pavilion, green and gold: it was surrounded by his attendants, and he had prepared to receive the Pasha of the Caravan. We advanced half a mile, and encamped temporarily in a hill-girt bulge of the Fiumara bed. At eight A.M. we had travelled about twenty-four miles from Al-Zaribah, and the direction of our present station was South-west 50°. Shaykh Mas�ud allowed us only four hours� halt; he wished to precede the main body. After breaking our fast joyously upon limes, pomegranates, and fresh dates, we sallied forth to admire the beauties of the place. We are once more on classic ground�the ground of the ancient Arab poets,� �Deserted is the village�waste the halting place and home At Mina, o�er Rijam and Ghul wild beasts unheeded roam, On Rayyan hill the channel lines have left their naked trace, Time-worn, as primal Writ that dints the mountain�s flinty face;[FN#25]�� and this Wady, celebrated for the purity of its air, has from remote ages been a favourite resort of the Meccans. Nothing can be more soothing to the brain than the dark-green foliage of the limes and pomegranates; and from [p.148] the base of the Southern hill bursts a bubbling stream, whose �Chaire, fresche e dolci acque� flow through the gardens, filling them with the most delicious of melodies, the gladdest sound which Nature in these regions knows. Exactly at noon Mas�ud seized the halter of the foremost camel, and we started down the Fiumara. Troops of Badawi girls looked over the orchard walls laughingly, and children came out to offer us fresh fruit and sweet water. At two P.M., travelling South-west, we arrived at a point where the torrent-bed turns to the right[;] and, quitting it, we climbed with difficulty over a steep ridge of granite. Before three o�clock we entered a hill-girt plain, which my companions called �Sola.� In some places were clumps of trees, and scattered villages warned us that we were approaching a city. Far to the left rose the blue peaks of Taif, and the mountain road, a white thread upon the nearer heights, was pointed out to me. Here I first saw the tree, or rather shrub, which bears the balm of Gilead, erst so celebrated for its tonic and stomachic properties.[FN#26] I told Shaykh Mas�ud to break off a [p.149] twig, which he did heedlessly. The act was witnessed by our party with a roar of laughter; and the astounded Shaykh was warned that he had become subject to an atoning sacrifice. [FN#27] Of course he denounced me as the instigator, and I could not fairly refuse assistance. The tree has of late years been carefully described by many botanists; I will only say that the bark resembled in colour a cherry-stick pipe, the inside was a light yellow, and the juice made my fingers stick together. At four P.M. we came to a steep and rocky Pass, up which we toiled with difficulty. The face of the country was rising once more, and again presented the aspect of numerous small basins divided and surrounded by hills. As we [p.150] jogged on we were passed by the cavalcade of no less a personage than the Sharif of Meccah. Abd al-Muttalib bin Ghalib is a dark, beardless old man with African features derived from his mother. He was plainly dressed in white garments and a white muslin turband,[FN#28] which made him look jet black; he rode an ambling mule, and the only emblem of his dignity was the large green satin umbrella born[e] by an attendant on foot.[FN#29] Scattered around him were about forty matchlock men, mostly slaves. At long intervals, after their father, came his four sons, Riza Bey, Abdullah, Ali, and Ahmad, the latter still a child. The three elder brothers rode splendid dromedaries at speed; they were young men of light complexion, with the true Meccan cast of features, showily dressed in bright coloured silks, and armed, to denote their rank, with sword and gold-hilted dagger.[FN#30] [p.151]We halted as evening approached, and strained our eyes, but all in vain, to catch sight of Meccah, which lies in a winding valley. By Shaykh Abdullah�s direction I recited, after the usual devotions, the following prayer. The reader is for[e]warned that it is difficult to preserve the flowers of Oriental rhetoric in a European tongue. [p.152]O Allah! verily this is Thy Safeguard (Amn) and Thy (Harim)! Into it whoso entereth becometh safe (Amin). So deny (Harrim) my Flesh and Blood, my Bones and Skin, to Hell-fire. O Allah! save me from Thy Wrath on the Day when Thy Servants shall be raised from the Dead. I conjure Thee by this that Thou art Allah, besides whom is none (Thou only), the Merciful, the Compassionate. And have Mercy upon our Lord Mohammed, and upon the Progeny of our Lord Mohammed, and upon his Followers, One and All!� This was concluded with the �Talbiyat,� and with an especial prayer for myself. We again mounted, and night completed our disappointment. About one A.M. I was aroused by general excitement. �Meccah! Meccah!� cried some voices; �The Sanctuary! O the Sanctuary!� exclaimed others; and all burst into loud �Labbayk,� not unfrequently broken by sobs. I looked out from my litter, and saw by the light of the Southern stars the dim outlines of a large city, a shade darker than the surrounding plain. We were passing over the last ridge by a cutting called the Saniyat Kuda�a, the winding-place of the cut.[FN#31] The �winding path� is flanked on both sides by watch-towers, which command the Darb al-Ma�ala or road leading from the North into Meccah. Thence we passed into the Ma�abidah (Northern suburb), where the Sharif�s Palace is built.[FN#32] After this, on the left hand, came [p.153] the deserted abode of the Sharif bin Aun, now said to be a �haunted house.[FN#33]� Opposite to it lies the Jannat al-Ma�ala, the holy cemetery of Meccah. Thence, turning to the right, we entered the Sulaymaniyah or Afghan quarter. Here the boy Mohammed, being an inhabitant of the Shamiyah or Syrian ward, thought proper to display some apprehension. The two are on bad terms; children never meet without exchanging volleys of stones, and men fight furiously with quarterstaves. Sometimes, despite the terrors of religion, the knife and sabre are drawn. But their hostilities have their code. If a citizen be killed, there is a subscription for blood-money. An inhabitant of one quarter, passing singly through another, becomes a guest; once beyond the walls, he is likely to be beaten to insensibility by his hospitable foes. At the Sulaymaniyah we turned off the main road into a byway, and ascended by narrow lanes the rough heights of Jabal Hindi, upon which stands a small whitewashed and crenellated building called a fort. Thence descending, we threaded dark streets, in places crowded with rude cots and dusky figures, and finally at two A.M. we found ourselves at the door of the boy Mohammed�s house. [p.154]From Wady Laymun to Meccah the distance, according to my calculation, was about twenty-three miles, the direction South-East forty-five degrees. We arrived on the morning of Sunday, the 7th Zu�l Hijjah (11th September, 1853), and had one day before the beginning of the pilgrimage to repose and visit the Harim. I conclude this chapter with a few remarks upon the watershed of Al-Hijaz. The country, in my humble opinion, has a compound slope, Southwards and Westwards. I have, however, little but the conviction of the modern Arabs to support the assertion that this part of Arabia declines from the North. All declare the course of water to be Southerly, and believe the fountain of Arafat to pass underground from Baghdad. The slope, as geographers know, is still a disputed point. Ritter, Jomard, and some old Arab authors, make the country rise towards the south, whilst Wallin and others express an opposite opinion. From the sea to Al-Musahhal is a gentle rise. The water-marks of the Fiumaras show that Al-Madinah is considerably above the coast, though geographers may not be correct in claiming for Jabal Radhwa a height of six thousand feet; yet that elevation is not perhaps too great for the plateau upon which stands the Apostle�s burial-place. From Al-Madinah to Al-Suwayrkiyah is another gentle rise, and from the latter to Al-Zaribah stagnating water denotes a level. I believe the report of a perennial lake on the eastern boundary of Al-Hijaz, as little as the river placed by Ptolemy between Yambu� and Meccah. No Badawi could tell me of this feature, which, had it existed, would have changed the whole conditions and history of the [p.155] country; we know the Greek�s river to be a Fiumara, and the lake probably owes its existence to a similar cause, a heavy fall of rain. Beginning at Al-Zaribah is a decided fall, which continues to the sea. The Arafat torrent sweeps from East to West with great force, sometimes carrying away the habitations, and even injuring the sanctuary.[FN#34] [FN#1] There are certain officers called Zemzemi, who distribute the holy water. In the case of a respectable pilgrim they have a large jar of the shape described in Chap. iv., marked with his names and titles, and sent every morning to his lodgings. If he be generous, one or more will be placed in the Harim, that men may drink in his honour. The Zemzemi expects a present varying from five to eleven dollars. [FN#2] The shishah, smoked on the camel, is a tin canister divided into two compartments, the lower half for the water, the upper one for the tobacco. The cover is pierced with holes to feed the fire, and a short hookah-snake projects from one side. [FN#3] The Hindustani �sir.� Badawin address it slightingly to Indians, Chapter xii. [FN#4] When Indians would say �he was killed upon the spot,� they use the picturesque phrase, �he asked not for water.� [FN#5] The Arabs are curious in and fond of honey: Meccah alone affords eight or nine different varieties. The best, and in Arab parlance the �coldest,� is the green kind, produced by bees that feed upon a thorny plant called �sihhah.� The white and red honeys rank next. The worst is the Asal Asmar (brown honey), which sells for something under a piastre per pound. The Abyssinian mead is unknown in Al-Hijaz, but honey enters into a variety of dishes. [FN#6] �La Siwa Hu,� i.e., where there is none but Allah. [FN#7] This article, an iron cylinder with bands, mounted on a long pole, corresponds with the European cresset of the fifteenth century. The Pasha�s cressets are known by their smell, a little incense being mingled with the wood. By this means the Badawin discover the dignitary�s place. [FN#8] �Abu Sham,� a familiar address in Al-Hijaz to Syrians. They are called �abusers of the salt,� from their treachery, and �offspring of Shimr� (the execrated murderer of the Imam Hosayn), because he was a native of that country. Such is the detestation in which the Shi�ah sect, especially the Persians, hold Syria and the Syrians, that I hardly ever met with a truly religious man who did not desire a general massacre of the polluted race. And history informs us that the plains of Syria have repeatedly been drenched with innocent blood shed by sectarian animosity. Yet Jalal al-Din (History of Jerusalem) says, �As to Damascus, all learned men fully agree that it is the most eminent of cities after Meccah and Al-Madinah.� Hence its many titles, �the Smile of the Prophet,� the �Great Gate of Pilgrimage,� �Sham Sharif,� the �Right Hand of the Cities of Syria,� &c., &c. And many sayings of Mohammed in honour of Syria are recorded. He was fond of using such Syriac words as �Bakhun! Bakhun!� to Ali, and �Kakhun! Kakhun!� to Hosayn. I will not enter into the curious history of the latter word, which spread to Egypt, and, slightly altered, passed through Latin mythology into French, English, German, Italian, and other modern European tongues. [FN#9] There is a regular language to camels. �Ikh! ikh!� makes them kneel; �Yahh! Yahh!� urges them on; �Hai! Hai!� induces caution, and so on. [FN#10] Both these names of the Almighty are of kindred origin. The former is generally used when a woman is in danger of exposing her face by accident, or an animal of falling. [FN#11] A �birkat� in this part of Arabia may be an artificial cistern or a natural basin; in the latter case it is smaller than a �ghadir.� This road was a favourite with Harun al-Rashid, the pious tyrant who boasted that every year he performed either a pilgrimage or a crusade. The reader will find in d�Herbelot an account of the celebrated visit of Harun to the Holy Cities. Nor less known in Oriental history is the pilgrimage of Zubaydah Khatun (wife of Harun and mother of Amin) by this route. [FN#12] Some believe this literally, others consider it a phrase expressive of blood-thirstiness. It is the only suspicion of cannibalism, if I may use the word, now attaching to Al-Hijaz. Possibly the disgusting act may occasionally have taken place after a stern fight of more than usual rancour. Who does not remember the account of the Turkish officer licking his blood after having sabred the corpse of a Russian spy? It is said that the Mutayr and the Utaybah are not allowed to enter Meccah, even during the pilgrimage season. [FN#13] Coloquintida is here used, as in most parts of the East, medicinally. The pulp and the seeds of the ripe fruit are scooped out, and the rind is filled with milk, which is exposed to the night air, and drunk in the morning. [FN#14] Used in Arabian medicine as a refrigerant and tonic. It abounds in Sind and Afghanistan, where, according to that most practical of botanists, the lamented Dr. Stocks, it is called �ishwarg.� [FN#15] Here called Ashr. According to Seetzen it bears the long-sought apple of Sodom. Yet, if truth be told, the soft green bag is as unlike an apple as can be imagined; nor is the hard and brittle yellow rind of the ripe fruit a whit more resembling. The Arabs use the thick and acrid milk of the green bag with steel filings as a tonic, and speak highly of its effects; they employ it also to intoxicate or narcotise monkeys and other animals which they wish to catch. It is esteemed in Hindu medicine. The Nubians and Indians use the filaments of the fruit as tinder; they become white and shining as floss-silk. The Badawin also have applied it to a similar purpose. Our Egyptian travellers call it the �Silk-tree�; and in Northern Africa, where it abounds, Europeans make of it stuffing for the mattresses, which are expensive, and highly esteemed for their coolness and cleanliness. In Bengal a kind of gutta percha is made by boiling the juice. This weed, so common in the East, may one day become in the West an important article of commerce. [FN#16] �Al-Ihram� literally meaning �prohibition� or �making unlawful,� equivalent to our �mortification,� is applied to the ceremony of the toilette, and also to the dress itself. The vulgar pronounce the word �heram,� or �l�ehram.� It is opposed to �ihlal,� �making lawful� or �returning to laical life.� The further from Meccah it is assumed, provided that it be during the three months of Hajj, the greater is the religious merit of the pilgrim; consequently some come from India and Egypt in the dangerous attire. Those coming from the North assume the pilgrim-garb at or off the village of Rabigh. [FN#17] These sheets are not positively necessary; any clean cotton cloth not sewn in any part will serve equally well. Servants and attendants expect the master to present them with an �ihram.� [FN#18] Sandals are made at Meccah expressly for the pilgrimage: the poorer classes cut off the upper leathers of an old pair of shoes. [FN#19] This Niyat, as it is technically called, is preferably performed aloud. Some authorities, however, direct it to be meditated sotto-voce. [FN#20] �Talbiyat� is from the word Labbayka (�here I am�) in the cry� �Labbayk� Allahumma, Labbayk�! (Labbayka) La Sharika laka, Labbayk�! Inna �l-hamda wa �l ni�amata laka wa �l mulk! La Sharika laka, Labbayk�!� Some add, �Here I am, and I honour thee, I the son of thy two slaves: beneficence and good are all between thy hands.� A single Talbiyah is a �Shart� or positive condition, and its repetition is a Sunnat or Custom of the Prophet. The �Talbiyat� is allowed in any language, but is preferred in Arabic. It has a few varieties; the form above given is the most common. [FN#21] The object of these ordinances is clearly to inculcate the strictest observance of the �truce of God.� Pilgrims, however, are allowed to slay, if necessary, �the five noxious,� viz., a crow, a kite, a scorpion, a rat, and a biting dog. [FN#22] The victim is sacrificed as a confession that the offender deems himself worthy of death: the offerer is not allowed to taste any portion of his offering. [FN#23] The reason why this �ugly� must be worn, is, that a woman�s veil during the pilgrimage ceremonies is not allowed to touch her face. [FN#24] The Sharifs are born and bred to fighting: the peculiar privileges of their caste favour their development of pugnacity. Thus, the modern diyah, or price of blood, being 800 dollars for a common Moslem, the chiefs demand for one of their number double that sum, with a sword, a camel, a female slave, and other items; and, if one of their slaves or servants be slain, a fourfold price. The rigorous way in which this custom is carried out gives the Sharif and his retainer great power among the Arabs. As a general rule, they are at the bottom of all mischief. It was a Sharif (Hosayn bin Ali) who tore down and trampled upon the British flag at Mocha; a Sharif (Abd al-Rahman of Waht) who murdered Captain Mylne near Lahedge. A page might be filled with the names of the distinguished ruffians. [FN#25] In these lines of Labid, the �Mina� alluded to must not, we are warned by the scholiast, be confounded with �Mina� (vulg. �Muna�), the Valley of Victims. Ghul and Rayyan are hills close to the Wady Laymun. The passage made me suspect that inscriptions would be found among the rocks, as the scholiast informs us that �men used to write upon rocks in order that their writing might remain.� (De Sacy�s Moallaka de Lebid, p. 289.) I neither saw nor heard of any. But some months afterwards I was delighted to hear from the Abbe Hamilton that he had discovered in one of the rock monuments a �lithographed proof� of the presence of Sesostris (Rhameses II.). [FN#26] The �balsamon� of Theophrastus and Dioscorides, a corruption of the Arabic �balisan� or �basham,� by which name the Badawin know it. In the valley of the Jordan it was worth its weight in silver, and kings warred for what is now a weed. Cleopatra by a commission brought it to Egypt. It was grown at Heliopolis. The last tree died there, we are told by Niebuhr, in the early part of the seventeenth century (according to others, in A.D. 1502); a circumstance the more curious, as it was used by the Copts in chrisome, and by Europe for anointing kings. From Egypt it was carried to Al-Hijaz, where it now grows wild on sandy and stony grounds; but I could not discover the date of its naturalisation. Moslems generally believe it to have been presented to Solomon by Bilkis, Queen of Sheba. Bruce relates that it was produced at Mohammed�s prayer from the blood of the Badr-Martyr. In the Gospel of Infancy (book i. ch. 8) we read,��9. Hence they (Joseph and Mary) went out to that sycamore, which is now called Matarea (the modern and Arabic name for Heliopolis). 10. And in Matarea the Lord Jesus caused a well to spring forth, in which St. Mary washed his coat; 11. And a balsam is produced or grows in that country from the sweat which ran down there from the Lord Jesus.� The sycamore is still shown, and the learned recognise in this ridiculous old legend the �hiero-sykaminon,� of pagan Egypt, under which Isis and Horus sat. Hence Sir J. Maundeville and an old writer allude reverently to the sovereign virtues of �bawme.� I believe its qualities to have been exaggerated, but have found it useful in dressing wounds. Burckhardt (vol. ii. p. 124) alludes to, but appears not to have seen it. The best balsam is produced upon stony hills like Arafat and Muna. In hot weather incisions are made in the bark, and the soft gum which exudes is collected in bottles. The best kind is of the consistence of honey, and yellowish-brown, like treacle. It is frequently adulterated with water, when, if my informant Shaykh Abdullah speak truth, it becomes much lighter in weight. I never heard of the vipers which Pliny mentions as abounding in these trees, and which Bruce declares were shown to him alive at Jeddah and at Yambu�. Dr. Carter found the balm, under the name of Luban Dukah, among the Gara tribe of Eastern Arabia, and botanists have seen it at Aden. We may fairly question its being originally from the banks of the Jordan. [FN#27] This being one of the �Muharramat,� or actions forbidden to a pilgrim. At all times, say the Moslems, there are three vile trades, viz., those of the Harik al-Hajar (stone-burner), the Kati� al-Shajar (tree-cutter, without reference to Hawarden, N.B.), and the Bayi� al-Bashar (man-seller, vulg. Jallab). [FN#28] This attire was customary even in Al-Idrisi�s time. [FN#29] From India to Abyssinia the umbrella is the sign of royalty: the Arabs of Meccah and Sena�a probably derived the custom from the Hindus. [FN#30] I purposely omit long descriptions of the Sharif, my fellow-travellers, Messrs. Didier and Hamilton, being far more competent to lay the subject before the public. A few political remarks may not be deemed out of place. The present Sharif, despite his civilised training at Constantinople, is, and must be a fanatic, bigoted man. He applied for the expulsion of the British Vice-Consul at Jeddah, on the grounds that an infidel should not hold position in the Holy Land. His pride and reserve have made him few friends, although the Meccans, with their enthusiastic nationality, extol his bravery to the skies, and praise him for conduct as well as for courage. His position at present is anomalous. Ahmad Pasha of Al-Hijaz rules politically as representative of the Sultan. The Sharif, who, like the Pope, claims temporal as well as spiritual dominion, attempts to command the authorities by force of bigotry. The Pasha heads the Turkish, now the ruling party. The Sharif has in his interest the Arabs and the Badawin. Both thwart each other on all possible occasions; quarrels are bitter and endless; there is no government, and the vessel of the State is in danger of being water-logged, in consequence of the squabbling between her two captains. When I was at Meccah all were in a ferment, the Sharif having, it is said, insisted upon the Pasha leaving Taif. The position of the Turks in Al-Hijaz becomes every day more dangerous. Want of money presses upon them, and reduces them to degrading measures. In February, 1853, the Pasha hired a forced loan from the merchants, and but for Mr. Cole�s spirit and firmness, the English proteges would have been compelled to contribute their share. After a long and animated discussion, the Pasha yielded the point by imprisoning his recusant subjects, who insisted upon Indians paying, like themselves. He waited in person with an apology upon Mr. Cole. Though established at Jeddah since 1838, the French and English Consuls, contented with a proxy, never required a return of visit from the Governor. If the Turks be frequently reduced to such expedients for the payment of their troops, they will soon be swept from the land. On the other hand, the Sharif approaches a crisis. His salary, paid by the Sultan, may be roughly estimated at £15,000 per annum. If the Turks maintain their footing in Arabia, it will probably be found that an honourable retreat at Stambul is better for the thirty-first descendant of the Prophet than the turbulent life of Meccah; or that a reduced allowance of £500 per annum would place him in a higher spiritual, though in a lower temporal position. Since the above was written the Sharif Abd al-Muttalib has been deposed. The Arabs of Al-Hijaz united in revolt against the Sultan, but after a few skirmishes they were reduced to subjection by their old ruler the Sharif bin Aun. [FN#31] Saniyat means a �winding path,� and Kuda�a, �the cut.� Formerly Meccah had three gates: 1. Bab al-Ma�ala, North-East; 2. Bab al-Umrah, or Bab al-Zahir, on the Jeddah road, West; and 3[.] Bab al-Masfal on the Yaman road. These were still standing in the twelfth century, but the walls were destroyed. It is better to enter Meccah by day and on foot; but this is not a matter of vital consequence in pilgrimage. [FN#32] It is a large whitewashed building, with extensive wooden balconied windows, but no pretensions to architectural splendour. Around it trees grow, and amongst them I remarked a young cocoa. Al-Idrisi (A.D. 1154) calls the palace Al-Marba�ah. This may be a clerical error, for to the present day all know it as Al-Ma�abidah (pronounced Al-Mab�da). The Nubian describes it as a �stone castle, three miles from the town, in a palm garden.� The word �Ma�abidah,� says Kutb al-Din, means a �body of servants,� and is applied generally to this suburb because here was a body of Badawin in charge of the Masjid al-Ijabah, a Mosque not now existing. [FN#33] I cannot conceive what made the accurate Niebuhr fall into the strange error that �apparitions are unknown in Arabia.� Arabs fear to sleep alone, to enter the bath at night, to pass by cemeteries during dark, and to sit amongst ruins, simply for fear of apparitions. And Arabia, together with Persia, has supplied half the Western world with its ghost stories and tales of angels, demons, and fairies. To quote Milton, the land is struck �with superstition as with a planet.� [FN#34] This is a synopsis of our marches, which, protracted on Burckhardt�s map, gives an error of ten miles. 1. From Al-Madinah to Ja al-Sharifah, S.E. 50° - 22 Miles 2. From Ja al-Sharifah to Ghurab, S.W. 10° - 24 Miles 3. From Ghurab to Al-Hijriyah, S.E. 22° - 25 Miles 4. From Al-Hijriyah to Al-Suwayrkiyah, S.W. 11° - 28 Miles 5. From Al-Suwayrkiyah to Al-Sufayna, S.E. 5° - 17 Miles 6. From Al-Sufayna to the �Benu Mutayr,� S.W. 20° - 18 Miles 7. From the �Benu Mutayr� to Al-Ghadir, S.W. 21° - 20 Miles 8. From Al-Ghadir to Al-Birkat, S.E. 10° - 24 Miles 9. From Al-Birkat to Al-Zaribah, S.E. 56° - 23 Miles 10.From Al-Zaribah to Wady Laymun, S.W. 50° - 24 Miles 11.From Wady Laymun to Meccah, S.E. 45° - 23 Miles Total English miles 248 [p.157]PART III. MECCAH. [p.159]CHAPTER XXVII. THE FIRST VISIT TO THE HOUSE OF ALLAH. THE boy Mohammed left me in the street, and having at last persuaded the sleepy and tired Indian porter, by violent kicks and testy answers to twenty cautious queries, to swing open the huge gate of his fortress, he rushed up stairs to embrace his mother. After a minute I heard the Zaghritah,[FN#1] Lululu, or shrill cry which in these lands welcomes the wanderer home; the sound so gladdening to the returner sent a chill to the stranger�s heart. Presently the youth returned. His manner had changed from a boisterous and jaunty demeanour to one of grave and attentive courtesy�I had become his guest. He led me into the gloomy hall, seated me upon a large carpeted Mastabah, or platform, and told his bara Miyan[FN#2] (great Sir), the Hindustani porter, to bring a light. [p.160] Meanwhile a certain shuffling of slippered feet above informed my ears that the Kabirah,[FN#3] the mistress of the house, was intent on hospitable thoughts. When the camels were unloaded, appeared a dish of fine vermicelli, browned and powdered with loaf sugar. The boy Mohammed, I, and Shaykh Nur, lost no time in exerting our right hands; and truly, after our hungry journey, we found the Kunafah delicious. After the meal we procured cots from a neighbouring coffee-house, and we lay down, weary, and anxious to snatch an hour or two of repose. At dawn we were expected to perform our Tawaf al-Kudum, or �Circumambulation of Arrival,� at the Harim. Scarcely had the first smile of morning beamed upon the rugged head of the eastern hill, Abu Kubays,[FN#4] when we arose, bathed, and proceeded in our pilgrim-garb to the Sanctuary. We entered by the Bab al-Ziyadah, or principal northern door, descended two long flights of steps, traversed the cloister, and stood in sight of the Bayt Allah. There at last it lay, the bourn of my long and weary Pilgrimage, realising the plans and hopes of many and many a year. The mirage medium of Fancy invested the [p.161] huge catafalque and its gloomy pall with peculiar charms. There were no giant fragments of hoar antiquity as in Egypt, no remains of graceful and harmonious beauty as in Greece and Italy, no barbarous gorgeousness as in the buildings of India; yet the view was strange, unique�and how few have looked upon the celebrated shrine! I may truly say that, of all the worshippers who clung weeping to the curtain, or who pressed their beating hearts to the stone, none felt for the moment a deeper emotion than did the Haji from the far-north. It was as if the poetical legends of the Arab spoke truth, and that the waving wings of angels, not the sweet breeze of morning, were agitating and swelling the black covering of the shrine. But, to confess humbling truth, theirs was the high feeling of religious enthusiasm, mine was the ecstasy of gratified pride. Few Moslems contemplate for the first time the Ka�abah, without fear and awe: there is a popular jest against new comers, that they generally inquire the direction of prayer. This being the Kiblah, or fronting place, Moslems pray all around it; a circumstance which of course cannot take place in any spot of Al-Islam but the Harim. The boy Mohammed, therefore, left me for a few minutes to myself; but presently he warned me that it was time to begin. Advancing, we entered through the Bab Benu Shaybah, the �Gate of the Sons of the Shaybah[FN#5]� (old woman). There we raised our [p.162] hands, repeated the Labbayk, the Takbir, and the Tahlil; after which we uttered certain supplications, and drew our hands down our faces. Then we proceeded to the Shafe�is� place of worship�the open pavement between the Makam Ibrahim and the well Zemzem�where we performed the usual two-bow prayer in honour of the Mosque. This was followed by a cup of holy water and a present to the Sakkas, or carriers, who for the consideration distributed, in my name, a large earthen vaseful to poor pilgrims. The word Zemzem has a doubtful origin. Some derive it from the Zam Zam, or murmuring of its waters, others from Zam! Zam! (fill! fill! i.e. the bottle), Hagar�s impatient exclamation when she saw the stream. Sale translates it stay! stay! and says that Hagar called out in the Egyptian language, to prevent her son wandering. The Hukama, or Rationalists of Al-Islam, who invariably connect their faith with the worship of Venus, especially, and the heavenly bodies generally, derive Zemzem from the Persian, and make it signify the �great luminary.� Hence they say the Zemzem, as well as the Ka�abah, denoting the Cuthite or Ammonian worship of sun and fire, deserves man�s reverence. So the Persian poet Khakani addresses these two buildings:� �O Ka�abah, thou traveller of the heavens!� �O Venus, thou fire of the world!� Thus Wahid Mohammed, founder of the Wahidiyah sect, identifies the Kiblah and the sun; wherefore he says the door fronts the East. By the names Yaman (�right-hand�), Sham (�left-hand�), Kubul, or the East wind (�fronting�), and Dubur, or the West wind (�from the back�), it is evident that worshippers fronted the rising sun. According to the Hukama, the original Black Stone represents Venus, �which in the border of the heavens is a star of the planets,� and symbolical of the [p.163] generative power of nature, �by whose passive energy the universe was warmed into life and motion.� The Hindus accuse the Moslems of adoring the Bayt Ullah. �O Moslem, if thou worship the Ka�abah, Why reproach the worshippers of idols?� says Rai Manshar. And Musaylimah, who in his attempt to found a fresh faith, gained but the historic epithet of �Liar,� allowed his followers to turn their faces in any direction, mentally ejaculating, �I address myself to thee, who hast neither side nor figure;� a doctrine which might be sensible in the abstract, but certainly not material enough and pride-flattering to win him many converts in Arabia. The produce of Zemzem is held in great esteem. It is used for drinking and religious ablution, but for no baser purposes; and the Meccans advise pilgrims always to break their fast with it. It is apt to cause diarrhoea and boils, and I never saw a stranger drink it without a wry face. Sale is decidedly correct in his assertion: the flavour is a salt-bitter, much resembling an infusion of a teaspoonful of Epsom salts in a large tumbler of tepid water. Moreover, it is exceedingly �heavy� to the digestion. For this reason Turks and other strangers prefer rain-water, collected in cisterns and sold for five farthings a gugglet. It was a favourite amusement with me to watch them whilst they drank the holy water, and to taunt their scant and irreverent potations. The strictures of the Calcutta Review (No. 41, art. 1), based upon the taste of Zemzem, are unfounded. In these days a critic cannot be excused for such hasty judgments; at Calcutta or Bombay he would easily find a jar of Zemzem water, which he might taste for himself. Upon this passage Mr. W. Muir (Life of Mahomet, vol. i, p. cclviii.) remarks that �the flavour of stale water bottled up for months would not be a criterion of the same water freshly drawn.� But it might easily be analysed. The water is transmitted to distant regions in glazed [p.164] earthern jars covered with basket-work, and sealed by the Zemzemis. Religious men break their lenten fast with it, apply it to their eyes to brighten vision, and imbibe a few drops at the hour of death, when Satan stands by holding a bowl of purest water, the price of the departing soul. Of course modern superstition is not idle about the waters of Zemzem. The copious supply of the well is considered at Meccah miraculous; in distant countries it facilitates the pron[o]unciation of Arabic to the student; and everywhere the nauseous draught is highly meritorious in a religious point of view. We then advanced towards the eastern angle of the Ka�abah, in which is inserted the Black Stone; and, standing about ten yards from it, repeated with upraised hands, �There is no god but Allah alone, Whose Covenant is Truth, and Whose Servant is Victorious. There is no god but Allah, without Sharer; His is the Kingdom, to Him be Praise, and He over all Things is potent.� After which we approached as close as we could to the stone. A crowd of pilgrims preventing our touching it that time, we raised our hands to our ears, in the first position of prayer, and then lowering them, exclaimed, �O Allah (I do this), in Thy Belief, and in verification of Thy Book, and in Pursuance of Thy Prophet�s Example�may Allah bless Him and preserve! O Allah, I extend my Hand to Thee, and great is my Desire to Thee! O accept Thou my Supplication, and diminish my Obstacles, and pity my Humiliation, and graciously grant me Thy Pardon!� After which, as we were still unable to reach the stone, we raised our hands to our ears, the palms facing the stone, as if touching it, recited the various religious formulae, the Takbir, the Tahlil, and the Hamdilah, blessed the Prophet, and kissed the finger-tips of the right hand. The Prophet used to weep when he touched the Black Stone, and said that it was the place for the pouring forth of tears. According to most authors, the [p.165] second Caliph also used to kiss it. For this reason most Moslems, except the Shafe�i school, must touch the stone with both hands and apply their lips to it, or touch it with the fingers, which should be kissed, or rub the palms upon it, and afterwards draw them down the face. Under circumstances of difficulty, it is sufficient to stand before the stone, but the Prophet�s Sunnat, or practice, was to touch it. Lucian mentions adoration of the sun by kissing the hand. Then commenced the ceremony of Tawaf,[FN#6] or circumambulation, our route being the Mataf�the low oval of polished granite immediately surrounding the Ka�abah. I [p.166] repeated, after my Mutawwif, or cicerone,[FN#7] �In the Name of Allah, and Allah is omnipotent! I purpose to circuit seven circuits unto Almighty Allah, glorified and exalted!� This is technically called the Niyat (intention) of Tawaf. Then we began the prayer, �O Allah (I do this), in Thy Belief, and in Verification of Thy Book, and in Faithfulness to Thy Covenant, and in Perseverance of the Example of the Apostle Mohammed�may Allah bless Him and preserve!� till we reached the place Al-Multazem, between the corner of the Black Stone and the Ka�abah door. Here we ejaculated, �O Allah, Thou hast Rights, so pardon my transgressing them.� Opposite the door we repeated, �O Allah, verily the House is Thy House, and the Sanctuary Thy Sanctuary, and the Safeguard Thy Safeguard, and this is the Place of him who flies to Thee from (hell) Fire!� At the little building called Makam Ibrahim we said, �O Allah, verily this is the Place of Abraham, who took Refuge with and fled to Thee from the Fire!�O deny my Flesh and Blood, my Skin and Bones to the (eternal) Flames!� As we paced slowly round the north or Irak corner of the Ka�abah we exclaimed, �O Allah, verily I take Refuge with Thee from Polytheism, and Disobedience, and Hypocrisy, and evil Conversation, and evil Thoughts concerning Family, and Property, and Progeny!� When fronting the Mizab, or spout, we repeated the words, �O Allah, verily I beg of Thee Faith which shall not decline, and a Certainty which shall not perish, and the good Aid of Thy Prophet Mohammed�may Allah bless Him and preserve! O Allah, shadow me in Thy Shadow on that Day when there is no Shade but Thy Shadow, and cause me to drink from the Cup of Thine Apostle Mohammed�may Allah bless Him and preserve!�that pleasant Draught after which is no Thirst to all Eternity, O Lord of Honour and Glory!� Turning the [p.167] west corner, or the Rukn al-Shami, we exclaimed, �O Allah, make it an acceptable Pilgrimage, and a Forgiveness of Sins, and a laudable Endeavour, and a pleasant Action (in Thy sight), and a store which perisheth not, O Thou Glorious! O Thou Pardoner!� This was repeated thrice, till we arrived at the Yamani, or south corner, where, the crowd being less importunate, we touched the wall with the right hand, after the example of the Prophet, and kissed the finger-tips. Finally, between the south angle and that of the Black Stone, where our circuit would be completed, we said, �O Allah, verily I take Refuge with Thee from Infidelity, and I take Refuge with Thee from Want, and from the Tortures of the Tomb, and from the Troubles of Life and Death. And I fly to Thee from Ignominy in this World and the next, and I implore Thy Pardon for the Present and for the Future. O Lord, grant to me in this Life Prosperity, and in the next Life Prosperity, and save me from the Punishment of Fire.� Thus finished a Shaut, or single course round the house. Of these we performed the first three at the pace called Harwalah, very similar to the French pas gymnastique, or Tarammul, that is to say, �moving the shoulders as if walking in sand.� The four latter are performed in Ta�ammul, slowly and leisurely; the reverse of the Sai, or running. These seven Ashwat, or courses, are called collectively one Usbu ([Arabic]). The Moslem origin of this custom is too well known to require mention. After each Taufah[,] or circuit, we, being unable to kiss or even to touch the Black Stone, fronted towards it, raised our hands to our ears, exclaimed, �In the Name of Allah, and Allah is omnipotent!� kissed our fingers, and resumed the ceremony of circumambulation, as before, with �Allah, in Thy Belief,� &c. At the conclusion of the Tawaf it was deemed advisable to attempt to kiss the stone. For a time I stood [p.168] looking in despair at the swarming crowd of Badawi and other pilgrims that besieged it. But the boy Mohammed was equal to the occasion. During our circuit he had displayed a fiery zeal against heresy and schism, by foully abusing every Persian in his path[FN#8]; and the inopportune introduction of hard words into his prayers made the latter a strange patchwork; as �Ave Maria purissima,�arrah, dont ye be letting the pig at the pot,�sanctissima,� and so forth. He might, for instance, be repeating �And I take Refuge with Thee from Ignominy in this World,� when �O thou rejected one, son of the rejected!� would be the interpolation addressed to some long-bearded Khorasani,��And in that to come���O hog and brother of a hoggess!� And so he continued till I wondered that none dared to turn and rend him. After vainly addressing the pilgrims, of whom nothing could be seen but a mosaic of occupits and shoulder-blades, the boy Mohammed collected about half a dozen stalwart Meccans, with whose assistance, by sheer strength, we wedged our way into the thin and light-legged crowd. The Badawin turned round upon us like wild-cats, but [p.169] they had no daggers. The season being autumn, they had not swelled themselves with milk for six months; and they had become such living mummies, that I could have managed single-handed half a dozen of them. After thus reaching the stone, despite popular indignation testified by impatient shouts, we monopolised the use of it for at least ten minutes. Whilst kissing it and rubbing hands and forehead upon it I narrowly observed it, and came away persuaded that it is an aerolite. It is curious that almost all travellers agree upon one point, namely, that the stone is volcanic. Ali Bey calls it �mineralogically� a �block of volcanic basalt, whose circumference is sprinkled with little crystals, pointed and straw-like, with rhombs of tile-red feldspath upon a dark background, like velvet or charcoal, except one of its protuberances, which is reddish.� Burckhardt thought it was �a lava containing several small extraneous particles of a whitish and of a yellowish substance.� Having kissed the stone we fought our way through the crowd to the place called Al-Multazem. Here we pressed our stomachs, chests, and right cheeks to the Ka�abah, raising our arms high above our heads and exclaiming, �O Allah! O Lord of the Ancient House, free my Neck from Hell-fire, and preserve me from every ill Deed, and make me contented with that daily bread which Thou hast given to me, and bless me in all Thou hast granted!� Then came the Istighfar, or begging of pardon; �I beg Pardon of Allah the most high, who, there is no other God but He, the Living, the Eternal, and unto Him I repent myself!� After which we blessed the Prophet, and then asked for ourselves all that our souls most desired.[FN#9] [p.170] After embracing the Multazem, we repaired to the Shafe�is� place of prayer near the Makam Ibrahim, and there recited two prostrations, technically called Sunnat al-Tawaf, or the (Apostle�s) practice of circumambulation. The chapter repeated in the first was �Say thou, O Infidels�: in the second, �Say thou He is the one God.[FN#10]� We then went to the door of the building in which is Zemzem: there I was condemned to another nauseous draught, and was deluged with two or three skinfuls of water dashed over my head en douche. This ablution causes sins to fall from the spirit like dust.[FN#11] During the potation we prayed, �O Allah, verily I beg of Thee plentiful daily Bread, and profitable Learning, and the healing of every Disease!� Then we returned towards the Black Stone, stood far away opposite, because unable to touch it, ejaculated the Takbir, the Tahlil, and the Hamdilah; and thoroughly worn out with scorched feet and a burning head,�both extremities, it must be remembered, were bare, and various delays had detained us till ten A.M.,�I left the Mosque.[FN#12] The boy Mohammed had miscalculated the amount of lodging in his mother�s house. She, being a widow [p.171] and a lone woman, had made over for the season all the apartments to her brother, a lean old Meccan, of true ancient type, vulture-faced, kite-clawed, with a laugh like a hyena, and a mere shell of body. He regarded me with no favouring eye when I insisted as a guest upon having some place of retirement; but he promised that, after our return from Arafat, a little store-room should be cleared out for me. With that I was obliged to be content, and to pass that day in the common male drawing-room of the house, a vestibule on the ground floor, called in Egypt a Takhta-bush.[FN#13] Entering, to the left (A) was a large Mastabah, or platform, and at the bottom (B) a second, of smaller dimensions and foully dirty. Behind this was a dark and unclean store-room (C) containing the Hajis� baggage. Opposite the Mastabah was a firepan for pipes and coffee (D), superintended by a family of lean Indians; and by the side (E) a doorless passage led to a bathing-room (F) and staircase (G). I had scarcely composed myself upon the carpeted Mastabah, when the remainder was suddenly invaded by the Turkish, or rather Slavo-Turk, pilgrims inhabiting the house, and a host of their visitors. They were large, hairy men, with gruff voices and square figures; they did not take the least notice of me, although[,] feeling the intrusion, I stretched out my legs with a provoking nonchalance.[FN#14] At last one of them addressed me in Turkish, to which I [p.172] replied by shaking my head. His question being interpreted to me in Arabic, I drawled out, �My native place is the land of Khorasan.� This provoked a stern and stony stare from the Turks, and an �ugh!� which said plainly enough, �Then you are a pestilent heretic.� I surveyed them with a self-satisfied simper, stretched my legs a trifle farther, and conversed with my water-pipe. Presently, when they all departed for a time, the boy Mohammed raised, by request, my green box of medicines, and deposited it upon the Mastabah; thus defining, as it were, a line of demarcation, and asserting my privilege to it before the Turks. Most of these men were of one party, headed by a colonel of Nizam, whom they called a Bey. My acquaintance with them began roughly enough, but afterwards, with some exceptions, who were gruff as an English butcher when accosted by a lean foreigner, they proved to be kind-hearted and not unsociable men. It often happens to the traveller, as the charming Mrs. Malaprop observes, to find intercourse all the better by beginning with a little aversion. In the evening, accompanied by the boy Mohammed, and followed by Shaykh Nur, who carried a lantern and a praying-rug, I again repaired to the �Navel of the World[FN#15]; this time aesthetically, to enjoy the delights of the hour after the �gaudy, babbling, and remorseful day.� The moon, now approaching the full, tipped the brow of Abu Kubays, and lit up the spectacle with a more solemn light. In the midst stood the huge bier-like erection,� �Black as the wings Which some spirit of ill o�er a sepulchre flings,�� [p.173] except where the moonbeams streaked it like jets of silver falling upon the darkest marble. It formed the point of rest for the eye; the little pagoda-like buildings and domes around it, with all their gilding and fretwork, vanished. One object, unique in appearance, stood in view�the temple of the one Allah, the God of Abraham, of Ishmael, and of their posterity. Sublime it was, and expressing by all the eloquence of fancy the grandeur of the One Idea which vitalised Al-Islam, and the strength and steadfastness of its votaries. The oval pavement round the Ka�abah was crowded with men, women, and children, mostly divided into parties, which followed a Mutawwif; some walking staidly, and others running, whilst many stood in groups to prayer. What a scene of contrasts! Here stalked the Badawi woman, in her long black robe like a nun�s serge, and poppy-coloured face-veil, pierced to show two fiercely flashing orbs. There an Indian woman, with her semi-Tartar features, nakedly hideous, and her thin legs, encased in wrinkled tights, hurried round the fane. Every now and then a corpse, borne upon its wooden shell, circuited the shrine by means of four bearers, whom other Moslems, as is the custom, occasionally relieved. A few fair-skinned Turks lounged about, looking cold and repulsive, as their wont is. In one place a fast Calcutta Khitmugar stood, with turband awry and arms akimbo, contemplating the view jauntily, as those �gentlemen�s gentlemen� will do. In another, some poor wretch, with arms thrown on high, so that every part of his person might touch the Ka�abah, was clinging to the curtain and sobbing as though his heart would break. From this spectacle my eyes turned towards Abu Kubays. The city extends in that direction half-way up the grim hill: the site might be compared, at a humble distance, to Bath. Some writers liken it to Florence; but conceive a Florence without beauty! To the South [p.174] lay Jabal Jiyad the Greater,[FN#16] also partly built over and crowned with a fort, which at a distance looks less useful than romantic[FN#17]: a flood of pale light was sparkling upon its stony surface. Below, the minarets became pillars of silver, and the cloisters, dimly streaked by oil lamps, bounded the views of the temple with horizontal lines of shade. Before nightfall the boy Mohammed rose to feed the Mosque pigeons, for whom he had brought a pocketful of barley. He went to the place where these birds flock�the line of pavement leading from the isolated arch to the Eastern cloisters. During the day women and children are to be seen sitting here, with small piles of grain upon little plaited trays of basket-work. For each they demand a copper piece; and religious pilgrims consider it their duty to provide the reverend blue-rocks with a plentiful meal. The Hindu Pandits assert that Shiwa and his spouse, under the forms and names of Kapot-Eshwara (pigeon god) and Kapotesi, dwelt at Meccah. The dove was the device of the old Assyrian Empire, because it is supposed Semiramis was preserved by that bird. The Meccan pigeons, resembling those of Venice, are held sacred probably in consequence of the wild traditions of the Arabs about Noah�s dove. Some authors declare that in Mohammed�s time, among the idols of the Meccan Pantheon, was a pigeon carved in wood, and above it another, which Ali, mounting upon the Prophet�s shoulder, pulled down. This might have been a Hindu, a Jewish, or a Christian symbol. The Moslems connect the pigeon [p.175] on two occasions with their faith: first, when that bird appeared to whisper in Mohammed�s ear; and, secondly, during the flight to Al-Madinah. Moreover, in many countries they are called �Allah�s Proclaimers,� because their movement when cooing resembles prostration. Almost everywhere the pigeon has entered into the history of religion, which probably induced Mr. Lascelles to incur the derision of our grandfathers by pronouncing it a �holy bird.� At Meccah they are called the doves of the Ka�abah, and they never appear at table. They are remarkable for propriety when sitting upon the holy building. This may be a minor miracle: I would rather believe that there is some contrivance on the roof. My friend Mr. Bicknell remarks: �This marvel, however, having of late years been suspended, many discern another omen of the approach of the long-predicted period when unbelievers shall desecrate the sacred soil.� Late in the evening I saw a negro in the state called Malbus�religious frenzy. To all appearance a Takruri, he was a fine and a powerful man, as the numbers required to hold him testified. He threw his arms wildly about him, uttering shrill cries, which sounded like le le le le! and when held, he swayed his body, and waved his head from side to side, like a chained and furious elephant, straining out the deepest groans. The Africans appear unusually subject to this nervous state which, seen by the ignorant and the imaginative, would at once suggest �demoniacal possession.[FN#18]� Either their organisation is more impressionable, or more probably, the hardships, privations, and fatigues endured whilst wearily traversing inhospitable wilds, and perilous seas, have exalted their [p.176] imaginations to a pitch bordering upon frenzy. Often they are seen prostrate on the pavement, or clinging to the curtain, or rubbing their foreheads upon the stones, weeping bitterly, and pouring forth the wildest ejaculations. That night I stayed in the Harim till two A.M., wishing to see if it would be empty. But the morrow was to witness the egress to Arafat; many, therefore, passed the hours of darkness in the Harim. Numerous parties of pilgrims sat upon their rugs, with lanterns in front of them, conversing, praying, and contemplating the Ka�abah. The cloisters were full of merchants, who resorted there to �talk shop,� and to vend such holy goods as combs, tooth-sticks, and rosaries. Before ten P.M. I found no opportunity of praying the usual two prostrations over the grave of Ishmael. After waiting long and patiently, at last I was stepping into the vacant place, when another pilgrim rushed forward; the boy Mohammed, assisted by me, instantly seized him, and, despite his cries and struggles, taught him to wait. Till midnight we sat chatting with the different ciceroni who came up to offer their services. I could not help remarking their shabby and dirty clothes, and was informed that during pilgrimage, when splendour is liable to be spoiled, they wear out old dresses; and appear endimanches for the Muharram fete, when most travellers have left the city. Presently my two companions, exhausted with fatigue, fell asleep; I went up to the Ka�abah, with the intention of �annexing� a bit of the torn old Kiswat or curtain, but too many eyes were looking on. At this season of the year the Kiswat is much tattered at the base, partly by pilgrims� fingers, and partly by the strain of the cord which confines it when the wind is blowing. It is considered a mere peccadillo to purloin a bit of the venerable stuff; but as the officers of the temple make money by selling it, they certainly would visit detection with an [p.177] unmerciful application of the quarterstaff. The piece in my possession was given to me by the boy Mohammed before I left Meccah. Waistcoats cut out of the Kiswah still make the combatants invulnerable in battle, and are considered presents fit for princes. The Moslems generally try to secure a strip of this cloth as a mark for the Koran, or for some such purpose. The opportunity, however, was favourable for a survey, and with a piece of tape, and the simple processes of stepping and spanning, I managed to measure all the objects concerning which I was curious. At last sleep began to weigh heavily upon my eyelids. I awoke my companions, and in the dizziness of slumber they walked with me through the tall narrow street from the Bab al-Ziyadah to our home in the Shamiyah. The brilliant moonshine prevented our complaining, as other travellers have had reason to do, of the darkness and the difficulty of Meccah�s streets. The town, too, appeared safe; there were no watchmen, and yet people slept everywhere upon cots placed opposite their open doors. Arrived at the house, we made some brief preparations for snatching a few hours� sleep upon the Mastabah, a place so stifling, that nothing but utter exhaustion could induce lethargy there. [FN#1] The Egyptian word is generally pronounced �Zaghrutah,� the plural is Zagharit, corrupted to Ziraleet. The classical Arabic term is �Tahlil�; the Persians call the cry �Kil.� It is peculiar to women, and is formed by raising the voice to its highest pitch, vibrating it at the same time by rolling the tongue, whose modulations express now joy, now grief. To my ear it always resembled the brain-piercing notes of a fife. Dr. Buchanan likens it to a serpent uttering human sounds. The �unsavoury comparison,� however, may owe its origin to the circumstance that Dr. Buchanan heard it at the orgies of Jagannath. [FN#2] As an Indian is called �Miyan,� sir, an elderly Indian becomes �bara Miyan,� great or ancient sir. I shall have occasion to speak at a future period of these Indians at Meccah. [FN#3] �Sitt al-Kabirah,� or simply �Al-Kabirah,� the Great Lady, is the title given to the mistress of. the house. [FN#4] This hill bounds Meccah on the East. According to many Moslems, Adam, with his wife and his son Seth, lie buried in a cave here. Others place his tomb at Muna; the Majority at Najaf. The early Christians had a tradition that our first parents were interred under Mount Calvary; the Jews place their grave near Hebron. Habil (Abel), it is well known, is supposed to be entombed at Damascus; and Kabil (Cain) rests at last under Jabal Shamsan, the highest wall of the Aden crater, where he and his progeny, tempted by Iblis, erected the first fire-temple. It certainly deserves to be the sepulchre of the first murderer. The worship, however, was probably imported from India, where Agni (the fire god) was, as the Vedas prove, the object of man�s earliest adoration. [FN#5] The popular legend of this gate is, that when Abraham and his son were ordered to rebuild the Ka�abah, they found the spot occupied by an old woman. She consented to remove her house on condition that the key of the new temple should be entrusted to her and to her descendants for ever and ever. The origin of this is, that Benu Shaybah means the �sons of an old woman� as well as �descendants of Shaybah.� And history tells us that the Benu Shaybah are derived from one Shaybah (bin Osman, bin Talhah, bin Shaybah, bin Talhah, bin Abd al-Dar), who was sent by Mu�awiyah to make some alterations in the Ka�abah. According to others, the Ka�abah key was committed to the charge of Osman bin Talhah by the Prophet. [FN#6] The Moslem in circumambulation presents his left shoulder; the Hindu�s Pradakshina consists in walking round with the right side towards the fane or idol. Possibly the former may be a modification of the latter, which would appear to be the original form of the rite. Its conjectural significance is an imitation of the procession of the heavenly bodies, the motions of the spheres, and the dances of the angels. These are also imitated in the circular whirlings of the Darwayshes. And Al-Shahristani informs us that the Arab philosophers believed this sevenfold circumambulation to be symbolical of the motion of the planets round the sun. It was adopted by the Greeks and Romans, whose Ambarvalia and Amburbalia appear to be eastern superstitions, introduced by Numa, or by the priestly line of princes, into their pantheism. And our processions round the parish preserve the form of the ancient rites, whose life is long since fled. Moslem moralists have not failed to draw spiritual food from this mass of materialism. �To circuit the Bayt Ullah,� said the Pir Raukhan (As. Soc. vol. xi. and Dabistan, vol. iii., �Miyan Bayazid�), �and to be free from wickedness, and crime, and quarrels, is the duty enjoined by religion. But to circuit the house of the friend of Allah (i.e. the heart), to combat bodily propensities, and to worship the Angels, is the business of the (mystic) path.� Thus Sa�adi, in his sermons,�which remind the Englishman of �poor Yorick,���He who travels to the Ka�abah on foot makes a circuit of the Ka�abah, but he who performs the pilgrimage of the Ka�abah in his heart is encircled by the Ka�abah.� And the greatest Moslem divines sanction this visible representation of an invisible and heavenly shrine, by declaring that, without a material medium, it is impossible for man to worship the Eternal Spirit. [FN#7] The Mutawwif, or Dalil, is the guide at Meccah. [FN#8] In A.D. 1674 some wretch smeared the Black Stone with impurity, and every one who kissed it retired with a sullied beard. The Persians, says Burckhardt, were suspected of this sacrilege, and now their ill-fame has spread far; at Alexandria they were described to me as a people who defile the Ka�abah. It is scarcely necessary to say that a Shi�ah, as well as a Sunni, would look upon such an action with lively horror. The people of Meccah, however, like the Madani, have turned the circumstance to their own advantage, and make an occasional �avanie.� Thus, nine or ten years ago, on the testimony of a boy who swore that he saw the inside of the Ka�abah defiled by a Persian, they rose up, cruelly beat the schismatics, and carried them off to their peculiar quarter the Shamiyah, forbidding their ingress to the Ka�abah. Indeed, till Mohammed Ali�s time, the Persians rarely ventured upon a pilgrimage, and even now that man is happy who gets over it without a beating. The defilement of the Black Stone was probably the work of some Jew or Greek, who risked his life to gratify a furious bigotry. [FN#9] Prayer is granted at fourteen places besides Al-Multazem, viz.:� 1. At the place of circumambulation. 2. Under the Mizab, or spout of the Ka�abah. 3. Inside the Ka�abah. 4. At the well Zemzem. 5. Behind Abraham�s place of prayer. 6 and 7. On Mounts Safa and Marwah. 8. During the ceremony called �Al-Sai.� 9. Upon Mount Arafat. 10. At Muzdalifah. 11. In Muna. 12. During the devil-stoning. 13. On first seeing the Ka�abah. 14. At the Hatim or Hijr. [FN#10] The former is the 109th, the latter the 112th chapter of the Koran (I have translated it in a previous volume). [FN#11] These superstitions, I must remark, belong only to the vulgar. [FN#12] Strictly speaking we ought, after this, to have performed the ceremony called Al-Sai, or the running seven times between Mounts Safa and Marwah. Fatigue put this fresh trial completely out of the question. [FN#13] I have been diffuse in my description of this vestibule, as it is the general way of laying out a ground-floor at Meccah. During the pilgrimage time the lower hall is usually converted into a shop for the display of goods, especially when situated in a populous quarter. [FN#14] This is equivalent to throwing oneself upon the sofa in Europe. Only in the East it asserts a decided claim to superiority; the West would scarcely view it in that light. [FN#15] Ibn Haukal begins his cosmography with Meccah �because the temple of the Lord is situated there, and the holy Ka�abah is the navel of the earth, and Meccah is styled in sacred writ the parent city, or the mother of towns.� Unfortunately, Ibn Haukal, like most other Moslem travellers and geographers, says no more about Meccah. [FN#16] To distinguish it from the Jiyad (above the cemetery Al-Ma�ala) over which Khalid entered Meccah. Some topographers call the Jiyad upon which the fort is built �the lesser,� and apply �greater� to Jiyad Amir, the hill north of Meccah. [FN#17] The Meccans, however, do not fail to boast of its strength; and has stood some sieges. [FN#18] In the Mandal, or palm-divination, a black slave is considered the best subject. European travellers have frequently remarked their nervous sensibility. In Abyssinia the maladies called �bouda� and �tigritiya� appear to depend upon some obscure connection between a weak impressionable brain and the strong will of a feared and hated race�the blacksmiths. [p.178]CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CEREMONIES OF THE YAUM AL-TARWIYAH, OR THE FIRST DAY. AT ten A.M., on the 8th Zu�l Hijjah, A.H. 1269 (Monday, 12th Sept., 1853), habited in our Ihram, or pilgrim garbs, we mounted the litter. Shaykh Mas�ud had been standing at the door from dawn-time, impatient to start before the Damascus and the Egyptian caravans made the road dangerous. Our delay arose from the tyrannical conduct of the boy Mohammed, who insisted upon leaving his little nephew behind. It was long before he yielded. I then placed the poor child, who was crying bitterly, in the litter between us, and at last we started. We followed the road by which the Caravans entered Meccah. It was covered with white-robed pilgrims, some few wending their way on foot[FN#1]; others riding, and all men barefooted and bareheaded. Most of the wealthier classes mounted asses. The scene was, as usual, one of strange contrasts: Badawin bestriding swift dromedaries; Turkish dignitaries on fine horses; the most picturesque beggars, and the most uninteresting Nizam. Not a little wrangling mingled with the loud bursts of Talbiyat. Dead animals dotted the ground, and carcasses had been cast into a dry tank, the Birkat al-Shami which caused every Badawi to [p.179] hold his nose.[FN#2] Here, on the right of the road, the poorer pilgrims, who could not find houses, had erected huts, and pitched their ragged tents. Traversing the suburb Al-Ma�b�dah (Ma�abadah), in a valley between the two barren prolongations of Kayka�an and Khandamah, we turned to the north-east, leaving on the left certain barracks of Turkish soldiery, and the negro militia here stationed, with the Saniyat Kuda�a in the background. Then, advancing about 3000 paces over rising ground, we passed by the conical head of Jabal Nur,[FN#3] and entered the plain of many names.[FN#4] It contained nothing but a few whitewashed walls, surrounding places of prayer, and a number of stone cisterns, some well preserved, others in ruins. All, however, were dry, and water-vendors crowded the roadside. Gravel and lumps of granite grew there like grass, and from under every large stone, as Shaykh Mas�ud took a delight in showing, a small scorpion, with tail curled over its back, fled, Parthian-like, from the invaders of its home. At eleven A.M., ascending a Mudarraj, or flight of stone steps, about thirty yards broad, we passed without difficulty, for we were in advance of the caravans, over the Akabah, or Steeps,[FN#5] and the narrow, hill-girt entrance, to the low gravel basin in which Muna lies. [p.180] Muna, more classically called Mina,[FN#6] is a place of considerable sanctity. Its three standing miracles are these: The pebbles thrown at �the Devil� return by angelic agency to whence they came; during the three Days of Drying Meat rapacious beasts and birds cannot prey there; and, lastly, flies do not settle upon the articles of food exposed so abundantly in the bazars.[FN#7] During pilgrimage, houses are let for an exorbitant sum, and it becomes a �World�s Fair� of Moslem merchants. At all other seasons it is almost deserted, in consequence, says popular superstition, of the Rajm or (diabolical) lapidation.[FN#8] Distant about three miles from Meccah, it is a long, narrow, straggling village, composed of mud and stone houses of one or two stories, built in the common Arab style. Traversing a narrow street, we passed on the left the Great Devil, which shall be described at a future time. After a quarter of an hour�s halt, spent over pipes and coffee, we came to an open space, where stands the Mosque �Al-Khayf.� Here, according to some Arabs, Adam lies, his head being at one end of one long wall, and his feet at another, whilst the dome covers his omphalic region. Grand preparations for fireworks were being made in this square; I especially remarked a fire-ship, [p.181] which savoured strongly of Stambul. After passing through the town, we came to Batn al-Muhassir, �The Basin of the Troubler,[FN#9]� (Satan) at the beginning of a descent leading to Muzdalifah (the Approacher), where the road falls into the valley of the Arafat torrent. At noon we reached the Muzdalifah, also called Mashar al-Haram, the �Place dedicated to religious Ceremonies.[FN#10]� It is known in Al-Islam as �the Minaret without the Mosque,� opposed to Masjid Nimrah, which is the �Mosque without the Minaret.� Half-way between Muna and Arafat, it is about three miles from both. There is something peculiarly striking in the distant appearance of the tall, solitary tower, rising abruptly from the desolate valley of gravel, flanked with buttresses of yellow rock. No wonder that the ancient Arabs loved to give the high-sounding name of this oratory to distant places in their giant Caliph-empire. Here as we halted to perform the mid-day prayer, we were overtaken by the Damascus Caravan. It was a grand spectacle. The Mahmil, no longer naked as upon the line of march, flashed in the sun all green and gold. Around the moving host of white-robed pilgrims hovered a crowd of Badawin, male and female, all mounted on swift dromedaries, and many of them armed to the teeth. As their drapery floated in the wind, and their faces were veiled with the �Lisam,� it was frequently difficult to [p.182] distinguish the sex of the wild being, flogging its animal to speed. These people, as has been said, often resort to Arafat for blood-revenge, in hopes of finding the victim unprepared. Nothing can be more sinful in Al-Islam than such deed�it is murder, �made sicker� by sacrilege; yet the prevalence of the practice proves how feeble is the religion�s hold upon the race. The women are as unscrupulous: I remarked many of them emulating the men in reckless riding, and striking with their sticks every animal in the way. Travelling Eastward up the Arafat Fiumara, after about half an hour we came to a narrow pass called Al-Akhshabayn[FN#11] or the �Two Rugged Hills.� Here the spurs of the rock limited the road to about a hundred paces, and it is generally a scene of great confusion. After this we arrived at Al-Bazan (the Basin),[FN#12] a widening of the plain; and another half-hour brought us to the Alamayn (the �Two Signs�), whitewashed pillars, or rather thin, narrow walls, surmounted with pinnacles, which denote the precincts of the Arafat plain. Here, in full sight of the Holy Hill, standing boldly out from the deep blue sky, the host of pilgrims broke into loud Labbayks. A little beyond, and to our right, was the simple enclosure called the Masjid Nimrah.[FN#13] We then [p.183] turned from our eastern course northwards, and began threading our way down the main street of the town of tents which clustered about the southern foot of Arafat. At last, about three P.M., we found a vacant space near the Matbakh, or kitchen, formerly belonging to a Sharif�s palace, but now a ruin with a few shells of arches. Arafat is about six hours� very slow march, or twelve miles,[FN#14] on the Taif road, due east of Meccah. We arrived there in a shorter time, but our weary camels, during the last third of the way, frequently threw themselves upon the ground. Human beings suffered more. Between Muna and Arafat I saw no fewer than five men fall down and die upon the highway: exhausted and moribund, they had dragged themselves out to give up the ghost where it departs to instant beatitude.[FN#15] The spectacle showed how easy it is to die in these latitudes[FN#16]; each man suddenly staggered, fell as if shot; and, after a brief convulsion, lay still as marble. The corpses were carefully taken up, and carelessly buried that same evening, in a vacant space amongst the crowds encamped upon the Arafat plain.[FN#17] The boy Mohammed, who had long chafed at my pertinacious [p.184] claim to Darwaysh-hood, resolved on this occasion to be grand. To swell the party he had invited Omar Effendi, whom we accidentally met in the streets of Meccah, to join us[;] but failing therein, he brought with him two cousins, fat youths of sixteen and seventeen, and his mother�s ground-floor servants. These were four Indians: an old man; his wife, a middle-aged woman of the most ordinary appearance; their son, a sharp boy, who spoke excellent Arabic[FN#18]; and a family friend, a stout fellow about thirty years old. They were Panjabis, and the bachelor�s history was instructive. He was gaining an honest livelihood in his own country, when suddenly one night Hazrat Ali, dressed in green, and mounted upon his charger Duldul[FN#19]�at least, so said the narrator�appeared, crying in a terrible voice, �How long wilt thou toil for this world, and be idle about the life to come?� From that moment, like an English murderer, he knew no peace; Conscience and Hazrat Ali haunted him.[FN#20] Finding [p.185] life unendurable at home, he sold everything; raised the sum of twenty pounds, and started for the Holy Land. He reached Jeddah with a few rupees in his pocket[;] and came to Meccah, where, everything being exorbitantly dear and charity all but unknown, he might have starved, had he not been received by his old friend. The married pair and their son had been taken as house-servants by the boy Mohammed�s mother, who generously allowed them shelter and a pound of rice per diem to each, but not a farthing of pay. They were even expected to provide their own turmeric and onions. Yet these poor people were anxiously awaiting the opportunity to visit Al-Madinah, without which their pilgrimage would not, they believed, be complete. They would beg their way through the terrible Desert and its Badawin�an old man, a boy, and a woman! What were their chances of returning to their homes? Such, I believe, is too often the history of those wretches whom a fit of religious enthusiasm, likest to insanity, hurries away to the Holy Land. I strongly recommend the subject to the consideration of our Indian Government as one that calls loudly for their interference. No Eastern ruler parts, as we do, with his subjects; all object to lose productive power. To an �Empire of Opinion� this emigration is fraught with evils. It sends forth a horde of malcontents that ripen into bigots; it teaches foreign nations to despise our rule; and it unveils the present nakedness of once wealthy India. And we have both prevention and cure in our own hands. As no Moslem, except the Maliki, is bound to pilgrimage without a sum sufficient to support himself and his family, all who embark at the different ports of India should be obliged to prove their solvency before being provided with a permit. Arrived at Jeddah, they should present the certificate at the British Vice-Consulate, where they would become entitled to assistance in case of necessity. The Vice-Consul at Jeddah ought also to be instructed [p.186] to assist our Indian pilgrims. Mr. Cole, when holding that appointment, informed me that, though men die of starvation in the streets, he was unable to relieve them. The highways of Meccah abound in pathetic Indian beggars, who affect lank bodies, shrinking frames, whining voices, and all the circumstance of misery, because it supports them in idleness. There are no fewer than fifteen hundred Indians at Meccah and Jeddah, besides seven or eight hundred in Al-Yaman. Such a body requires a Consul.[FN#21] By the representation of a Vice-Consul when other powers send an officer of superior rank to Al-Hijaz, we voluntarily place ourselves in an inferior position. And although the Meccan Sharif might for a time object to establishing a Moslem agent at the Holy City with orders to report to the Consul at Jeddah, his opposition would soon fall to the ground. With the Indians� assistance the boy Mohammed removed the handsome Persian rugs with which he had covered the Shugduf, pitched the tent, carpeted the ground, disposed a Diwan of silk and satin cushions round the interior, and strewed the centre with new Chibuks, and highly polished Shishahs. At the doorway was placed a large copper fire-pan, with coffee-pots singing a welcome to visitors. In front of us were the litters, and by divers similar arrangements our establishment was made to look fine. The youth also insisted upon my removing the Rida, or upper cotton cloth, which had become way-soiled, and he supplied its place by a rich cashmere, left with him, some years before, by a son of the King of Delhi. Little thought I that this bravery of attire would lose me every word of the Arafat sermon next day. Arafat, anciently called Jabal Ilal ([Arabic]), �the Mount [p.187] of Wrestling in Prayer,� and now Jabal al-Rahmah, the �Mount of Mercy,� is a mass of coarse granite split into large blocks, with a thin coat of withered thorns. About one mile in circumference, it rises abruptly to the height of a hundred and eighty or two hundred feet, from the low gravelly plain�a dwarf wall at the Southern base forming the line of demarcation. It is separated by Batn Arnah ([Arabic]), a sandy vale,[FN#22] from the spurs of the Taif hills. Nothing can be more picturesque than the view it affords of the azure peaks behind, and the vast encampment scattered over the barren yellow plain below.[FN#23] On the North lay the regularly pitched camp of the guards that defend the unarmed pilgrims. To the Eastward was the Sharif�s encampment, with the bright Mahmils and [p.188] the gilt knobs of the grandees� pavilions; whilst on the Southern and Western sides the tents of the vulgar crowded the ground, disposed in Dowar, or circles. After many calculations, I estimated the number to be not fewer than 50,000 of all ages and sexes; a sad falling off, it is true, but still considerable. Ali Bey (A.D. 1807) calculates 83,000 pilgrims; Burckhardt (1814), 70,000. I reduce it, in 1853, to 50,000; and in A.D. 1854, owing to political causes, it fell to about 25,000. Of these at fewest 10,000 are Meccans, as every one who can leave the city does so at pilgrimage-time. The Arabs have a superstition that the numbers at Arafat cannot be counted, and that if fewer than 600,000 mortals stand upon the hill to hear the sermon, the angels descend and complete the number. Even this year my Arab friends declared that 150,000 spirits were present in human shape. It may be observed that when the good old Bertrand de la Brocquiere, esquire-carver to Philip of Burgundy, declares that the yearly Caravan from Damascus to Al-Madinah must always be composed of 700,000 persons, and that this number being incomplete, Allah sends some of his angels to make it up, he probably confounds the Caravan with the Arafat multitude. The Holy Hill owes its name[FN#24] and honours to a well-known legend. When our first parents forfeited Heaven by eating wheat, which deprived them of their primeval purity, they were cast down upon earth. The serpent descended at Ispahan, the peacock at Kabul, Satan at Bilbays (others say Semnan and Seistan), Eve upon Arafat, and Adam at Ceylon. The latter, determining to seek his wife, began a journey, to which earth owes its present mottled appearance. Wherever our first father [p.189] placed his foot�which was large�a town afterwards arose; between the strides will always be �country.� Wandering for many years, he came to the Mountain of Mercy, where our common mother was continually calling upon his name, and their recognition gave the place the name of Arafat. Upon its summit, Adam, instructed by the archangel Gabriel, erected a Mada�a, or place of prayer: and between this spot and the Nimrah Mosque the couple abode till death. Others declare that after recognition, the first pair returned to India, whence for 44 years in succession they visited the Sacred City at pilgrimage-time. From the Holy Hill I walked down to look at the camp arrangements. The main street of tents and booths, huts and shops, was bright with lanterns, and the bazars were crowded with people and stocked with all manner of Eastern delicacies. Some anomalous spectacles met the eye. Many pilgrims, especially the soldiers, were in laical costume. In one place a half-drunken Arnaut stalked down the road, elbowing peaceful passengers and frowning fiercely in hopes of a quarrel. In another part, a huge dimly-lit tent, reeking hot, and garnished with cane seats, contained knots of Egyptians, as their red Tarbushes, white turbands, and black Za�abuts showed, noisily intoxicating themselves with forbidden hemp. There were frequent brawls and great confusion; many men had lost their parties, and, mixed with loud Labbayks, rose the shouted names of women as well as of men. I was surprised at the disproportion of female nomenclature�the missing number of fair ones seemed to double that of the other sex�and at a practice so opposed to the customs of the Moslem world. At length the boy Mohammed enlightened me. Egyptian and other bold women, when unable to join the pilgrimage, will pay or persuade a friend to shout their names [p.190] in hearing of the Holy Hill, with a view of ensuring a real presence at the desired spot next year. So the welkin rang with the indecent sounds of O Fatimah! O Zaynab! O Khayz�ran![FN#25] Plunderers, too, were abroad. As we returned to the tent we found a crowd assembled near it; a woman had seized a thief as he was beginning operations, and had the courage to hold his beard till men ran to her assistance. And we were obliged to defend by force our position against a knot of grave-diggers, who would bury a little heap of bodies within a yard or two of our tent. One point struck me at once�the difference in point of cleanliness between an encampment of citizens and of Badawin. Poor Mas�ud sat holding his nose in ineffable disgust, for which he was derided by the Meccans. I consoled him with quoting the celebrated song of Maysunah, the beautiful Badawi wife of the Caliph Mu�awiyah. Nothing can be more charming in its own Arabic than this little song; the Badawin never hear it without screams of joy. �O take these purple robes away, Give back my cloak of camel�s hair, And bear me from this tow�ring pile To where the Black Tents flap i� the air. The camel�s colt with falt�ring tread, The dog that bays at all but me, Delight me more than ambling mules� Than every art of minstrelsy; And any cousin, poor but free, Might take me, fatted ass! from thee.[FN#26]� [p.191] The old man, delighted, clapped my shoulder, and exclaimed, �Verily, O Father of Mustachios, I will show thee the black tents of my tribe this year!� At length night came, and we threw ourselves upon our rugs, but not to sleep. Close by, to our bane, was a prayerful old gentleman, who began his devotions at a late hour and concluded them not before dawn. He reminded me of the undergraduate my neighbour at Trinity College, Oxford, who would spout Aeschylus at two A.M. Sometimes the chant would grow drowsy, and my ears would hear a dull retreating sound; presently, as if in self-reproach, it would rise to a sharp treble, and proceed at a rate perfectly appalling. The coffee-houses, too, were by no means silent; deep into the night I heard the clapping of hands accompanying merry Arab songs, and the loud shouts of laughter of the Egyptian hemp-drinkers. And the guards and protectors of the camp were not �Charleys� or night-nurses. [FN#1] Pilgrims who would win the heavenly reward promised to those who walk, start at an early hour. [FN#2] The true Badawi, when in the tainted atmosphere of towns, is always known by bits of cotton in his nostrils, or by his kerchief tightly drawn over his nose, a heavy frown marking extreme disgust. [FN#3] Anciently called Hira. It is still visited as the place of the Prophet�s early lucubrations, and because here the first verse of the Koran descended. As I did not ascend the hill, I must refer readers for a description of it to Burckhardt, vol. i. p. 320. [FN#4] Al-Abtah, �low ground�; Al Khayf, �the declivity�; Fina Makkah, the �court of Meccah�; Al-Muhassib (from Hasba, a shining white pebble), corrupted by our authors to Mihsab and Mohsab. [FN#5] The spot where Kusay fought and where Mohammed made his covenant. [FN#6] If Ptolemy�s �Min�i� be rightly located in this valley, the present name and derivation �Muna� (desire), because Adam here desired Paradise of Allah, must be modern. Sale, following Pococke, makes �Mina� (from Mana) allude to the flowing of victims� blood. Possibly it may be the plural of Minyat, which in many Arabic dialects means a village. This basin was doubtless thickly populated in ancient times, and Moslem historians mention its seven idols, representing the seven planets. [FN#7] According to Mohammed the pebbles of the accepted are removed by angels; as, however, each man and woman must throw 49 or 70 stones, it is fair to suspect the intervention of something more material. Animals are frightened away by the bustling crowd, and flies are found in myriads. [FN#8] This demoniacal practice is still as firmly believed in Arabia as it formerly was in Europe. [FN#9] Probably because here Satan appeared to tempt Adam, Abraham, and Ishmael. The Qanoon e Islam erroneously calls it the �Valley of Muhasurah,� and corrupts Mashar al-Haram into �Muzar al-Haram� (the holy shrine). [FN#10] Many, even since Sale corrected the error, have confounded this Mashar al-Haram with Masjid al-H?r?m of Meccah. According to Al-Fasi, quoted by Burckhardt, it is the name of a little eminence at the end of the Muzdalifah valley, and anciently called Jabal Kuzah; it is also, he says, applied to �an elevated platform inclosing the mosque of Muzdalifah.� Ibn Jubayr makes Mashar al-Haram synonymous with Muzdalifah, to which he gives a third name, �Jami.� [FN#11] Buckhardt calls it �Mazoumeyn,� or Al-Mazik, the pass. �Akeshab� may mean wooded or rugged; in which latter sense it is frequently applied to hills. Kayka�an and Abu Kubays at Meccah are called Al-Akshshabayn in some books. The left hill, in Ibn Jubayr�s time, was celebrated as a meeting-place for brigands. [FN#12] Kutb al-Din makes another Bazan the Southern limit of Meccah. [FN#13] Burckhardt calls this building, which he confounds with the �Jami Ibrahim,� the Jami Nimre; others Namirah, Nimrah, Namrah, and Namurah. It was erected, he says, by Kait Bey of Egypt, and had fallen into decay. It has now been repaired, and is generally considered neutral, and not Sanctuary ground, between the Harim of Meccah and the Holy Hill. [FN#14] Mr. W. Muir, in his valuable Life of Mahomet, vol. i, p. ccv., remarks upon this passage that at p. 180 ante, I made Muna three miles from Meccah, and Muzdalifah about three miles from Muna, and Arafat three miles from Muzdalifah,�a total of nine. But the lesser estimate does not include the outskirts of Meccah on the breadth of the Arafat Plain. The Calcutta Review (art. 1, Sept. 1853) notably errs in making Arafat eighteen miles east of Meccah. Ibn Jubayr reckons five miles from Meccah to Muzdalifah, and five from this to Arafat. [FN#15] Those who die on a pilgrimage become martyrs. [FN#16] I cannot help believing that some unknown cause renders death easier to man in hot than in cold climates; certain it is that in Europe rare are the quiet and painless deathbeds so common in the East. [FN#17] We bury our dead, to preserve them as it were; the Moslem tries to secure rapid decomposition, and makes the graveyard a dangerous as well as a disagreeable place. [FN#18] Arabs observe that Indians, unless brought young into the country, never learn its language well. They have a word to express the vicious pronunciation of a slave or an Indian, �Barbaret al-Hunud.� This root Barbara ([Arabic]), like the Greek �Barbaros,� appears to be derived from the Sanscrit Varvvaraha, an outcast, a barbarian, a man with curly hair. [FN#19] Ali�s charger was named Maymun, or, according to others, Zu�l Janah (the winged). Indians generally confound it with �Duldul,� Mohammed�s mule. [FN#20] These visions are common in history. Ali appeared to the Imam Shafe�i, saluted him,�an omen of eternal felicity,�placed a ring upon his finger, as a sign that his fame should extend wide as the donor�s, and sent him to the Holy Land. Ibrahim bin Adham, the saint-poet hearing, when hunting, a voice exclaim, �Man! it is not for this that Allah made thee!� answered, �It is Allah who speaks, his servant will obey!� He changed clothes with an attendant, and wandered forth upon a pilgrimage, celebrated in Al-Islam. He performed it alone, and making 1100 genuflexions each mile, prolonged it to twelve years. The history of Colonel Gardiner, and of many others amongst ourselves, prove that these visions are not confined to the Arabs. [FN#21] There is a Consul for Jeddah now, 1879, but till lately he was an unpaid. [FN#22] This vale is not considered �standing-ground,� because Satan once appeared to the Prophet as he was traversing it. [FN#23] According to Kutb al-Din, the Arafat plain was once highly cultivated. Stone-lined cisterns abound, and ruins of buildings are frequent. At the Eastern foot of the mountain was a broad canal, beginning at a spur of the Taif hills, and conveying water to Meccah; it is now destroyed beyond Arafat. The plain is cut with torrents, which at times sweep with desolating violence into the Holy City, and a thick desert vegetation shows that water is not deep below the surface. [FN#24] The word is explained in many ways. One derivation has already been mentioned. Others assert that when Gabriel taught Abraham the ceremonies, he ended by saying �A�arafata manasik�ak?��hast thou learned thy pilgrim rites? To which the Friend of Allah replied, �Araftu!��I have learned them. [FN#25] The latter name, �Ratan,� is servile. Respectable women are never publicly addressed by Moslems except as �daughter,� �female pilgrim,� after some male relation, �O mother of Mohammed,� �O sister of Omar,� or, tout bonnement, by a man�s name. It would be ill-omened and dangerous were the true name known. So most women, when travelling, adopt an alias. Whoever knew an Afghan fair who was not �Nur Jan,� or �Sahib Jan�? [FN#26] The British reader will be shocked to hear that by the term �fatted ass� the intellectual lady alluded to her husband. The story is that Mu�awiyah, overhearing the song, sent back the singer to her cousin and beloved wilds. Maysunah departed with her son Yazid, and did not return to Damascus till the �fatted ass� had joined his forefathers. Yazid inherited, with his mother�s talents, all her contempt for his father; at least the following quatrain, addressed to Mu�awiyah, and generally known in Al-Islam, would appear to argue anything but reverence:� �I drank the water of the vine: that draught had power to rouse Thy wrath, grim father! now, indeed, �tis joyous to carouse! I�ll drink!�Be wroth!�I reck not!�Ah! dear to this heart of mine It is to scoff a sire�s command, to quaff forbidden wine.� [p.192] CHAPTER XXIX. THE CEREMONIES OF THE YAUM ARAFAT, OR THE SECOND DAY. THE morning of the ninth Zu�l Hijjah (Tuesday, 13th Sept.) was ushered in by military sounds: a loud discharge of cannon warned us to arise and to prepare for the ceremonies of this eventful day. After ablution and prayer, I proceeded with the boy Mohammed to inspect the numerous consecrated sites on the �Mountain of Mercy.� In the first place, we repaired to a spot on rising ground to the south-east, and within a hundred yards of the hill. It is called �Jami al-Sakhrah[FN#1]��the Assembling Place of the Rock�from two granite boulders upon which the Prophet stood to perform �Talbiyat.� There is nothing but a small enclosure of dwarf and whitewashed stone walls, divided into halves for men and women by a similar partition, and provided with a niche to direct prayer towards Meccah. Entering by steps, we found crowds of devotees and guardians, who for a consideration offered mats and carpets. After a two-bow prayer and a long supplication opposite the niche, we retired to the inner compartment, stood upon a boulder and shouted the �Labbayk.� Thence, threading our way through many obstacles [p.193] of tent and stone, we ascended the broad flight of rugged steps which winds up the southern face of the rocky hill. Even at this early hour it was crowded with pilgrims, principally Badawin and Wahhabis, who had secured favourable positions for hearing the sermon. Already their green flag was planted upon the summit close to Adam�s Place of Prayer. The wilder Arabs insist that �Wukuf� (standing) should take place upon the Hill. This is not done by the more civilised, who hold that all the plain within the Alamayn ranks as Arafat. According to Ali Bey, the Maliki school is not allowed to stand upon the mountain. About half way up I counted sixty-six steps, and remarked that they became narrower and steeper. Crowds of beggars instantly seized the pilgrims� robes, and strove to prevent our entering a second enclosure. This place, which resembles the former, except that it has but one compartment and no boulders, is that whence Mohammed used to address his followers; and here, to the present day, the Khatib, or preacher, in imitation of the �Last of the Prophets,� sitting upon a dromedary, recites the Arafat sermon. Here, also, we prayed a two-bow prayer, and gave a small sum to the guardian. Thence ascending with increased difficulty to the hill-top, we arrived at a large stuccoed platform,[FN#2] with prayer-niche and a kind of obelisk, mean and badly built of lime and granite stone, whitewashed, and conspicuous from afar. It is called the Makam, or Mada�a Sayyidna Adam.[FN#3] Here we performed the customary ceremonies amongst a crowd of pilgrims, and then we walked down the little hill. [p.194] Close to the plain we saw the place where the Egyptian and Damascus Mahmils stand during the sermon; and, descending the wall that surrounds Arafat by a steep and narrow flight of coarse stone steps, we found on our right the fountain which supplies the place with water. It bubbles from the rock, and is exceedingly pure, as such water generally is in Al-Hijaz. Our excursion employed us longer than the description requires�nine o�clock had struck before we reached the plain. All were in a state of excitement. Guns fired incessantly. Horsemen and camel-riders galloped about without apparent object. Even the women and the children stood and walked, too restless even to sleep. Arrived at the tent, I was unpleasantly surprised to find a new visitor in an old acquaintance, Ali ibn Ya Sin the Zemzemi. He had lost his mule, and, wandering in search of its keepers, he unfortunately fell in with our party. I had solid reasons to regret the mishap�he was far too curious and too observant to suit my tastes. On the present occasion, he, being uncomfortable, made us equally so. Accustomed to all the terrible �neatness� of an elderly damsel in Great Britain, a few specks of dirt upon the rugs, and half a dozen bits of cinder upon the ground, sufficed to give him attacks of �nerves.� That day we breakfasted late, for night must come before we could eat again. After mid-day prayer we performed ablutions; some the greater, others the less, in preparation for the �Wukuf,� or Standing. From noon onwards the hum and murmur of the multitude increased, and people were seen swarming about in all directions. A second discharge of cannon (at about 3.15 P.M.) announced the approach of Al-Asr, the afternoon prayer, and almost immediately we heard the Naubat, or band preceding the Sharif�s procession, as he wended his way towards the mountain. Fortunately my tent was pitched close to the road, so that without trouble I had a perfect [p.195] view of the scene. First swept a cloud of mace-bearers, who, as usual on such occasions, cleared the path with scant ceremony. They were followed by the horsemen of the Desert, wielding long and tufted spears. Immediately behind them came the Sharif�s led horses, upon which I fixed a curious eye. All were highly bred, and one, a brown Nijdi with black points, struck me as the perfection of an Arab. They were small, and all were apparently of the northern race.[FN#4] Of their old crimson-velvet [p.196] caparisons the less said the better; no little Indian Nawab would show aught so shabby on state occasions. After the chargers paraded a band of black slaves on foot bearing huge matchlocks; and immediately preceded by three green and two red flags, came the Sharif, riding in front of his family and courtiers. The prince, habited in a simple white Ihram, and bare-headed, mounted a mule; the only sign of his rank was a large green and gold embroidered umbrella, held over him by a slave. The rear was brought up by another troop of Badawin on horses and camels. Behind this procession were the tents, whose doors and walls were scarcely visible for the crowd; and the picturesque background was the granite hill, covered, wherever standing-room was to be found, with white-robed pilgrims shouting �Labbayk,� and waving the skirts of their glistening garments violently over their heads. Slowly and solemnly the procession advanced towards the hill. Exactly at the hour Al-Asr, the two Mahmils had taken their station side by side on a platform in the lower slope. That of Damascus could be distinguished as the narrower and the more ornamented of the pair. The Sharif placed himself with his standard-bearers and his retinue a little above the Mahmils, within hearing of the preacher. The pilgrims crowded up to the foot of the mountain: the loud �Labbayk� of the Badawin and [p.197] Wahhabis[FN#5] fell to a solemn silence, and the waving of white robes ceased�a sign that the preacher had begun the Khutbat al-Wakfah, or Sermon of the Standing (upon Arafat). From my tent I could distinguish the form of the old man upon his camel, but the distance was too great for ear to reach. But how came I to be at the tent? A short confession will explain. They will shrive me who believe in inspired Spenser�s lines� �And every spirit, as it is more pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in.�� The evil came of a �fairer body.� I had prepared en cachette a slip of paper, and had hid in my Ihram a pencil destined to put down the heads of this rarely heard discourse. But unhappily that red cashmere shawl was upon my shoulders. Close to us sat a party of fair Meccans, apparently belonging to the higher classes, and one of these I had already several times remarked. She was a tall girl, about eighteen years old, with regular features, a skin somewhat citrine-coloured, but soft and clear, symmetrical eyebrows, the most beautiful eyes, and a figure all grace. There was no head thrown back, no straightened neck, no flat shoulders, nor toes turned out�in fact, no �elegant� barbarisms: the shape was what the Arabs love, soft, bending, and relaxed, as a woman�s [p.198] figure ought to be. Unhappily she wore, instead of the usual veil, a �Yashmak� of transparent muslin, bound round the face; and the chaperone, mother, or duenna, by whose side she stood, was apparently a very unsuspicious or complaisant old person. Flirtilla fixed a glance of admiration upon my cashmere. I directed a reply with interest at her eyes. She then by the usual coquettish gesture, threw back an inch or two of head-veil, disclosing broad bands of jetty hair, crowning a lovely oval. My palpable admiration of the new charm was rewarded by a partial removal of the Yashmak, when a dimpled mouth and a rounded chin stood out from the envious muslin. Seeing that my companions were safely employed, I entered upon the dangerous ground of raising hand to forehead. She smiled almost imperceptibly, and turned away. The pilgrim was in ecstasy. The sermon was then half over. I was resolved to stay upon the plain and see what Flirtilla would do. Grace to the cashmere, we came to a good understanding. The next page will record my disappointment�that evening the pilgrim resumed his soiled cotton cloth, and testily returned the red shawl to the boy Mohammed. The sermon always lasts till near sunset, or about three hours. At first it was spoken amid profound silence. Then loud, scattered �Amins� (Amens) and volleys of �Labbayk� exploded at uncertain intervals[.] At last the breeze brought to our ears a purgatorial chorus of cries, sobs, and shrieks. Even my party thought proper to be affected: old Ali rubbed his eyes, which in no case unconnected with dollars could by any amount of straining be made to shed even a crocodile�s tear; and the boy Mohammed wisely hid his face in the skirt of his Rida. Presently the people, exhausted by emotion, began to descend the hill in small parties; and those below struck their tents and commenced loading their camels, although at least an hour�s sermon remained. On this occassion, [p.199] however, all hurry to be foremost, as the �race from Arafat� is enjoyed by none but the Badawin. Although we worked with a will, our animals were not ready to move before sunset, when the preacher gave the signal of �Israf,� or permission to depart. The pilgrims, ��swaying to and fro, Like waves of a great sea, that in mid shock Confound each other, white with foam and fear,� rushed down the hill with a �Labbayk� sounding like a blast, and took the road to Muna. Then I saw the scene which has given to this part of the ceremonies the name of Al-Daf�a min Arafat,�the �Hurry from Arafat.� Every man urged his beast with might and main: it was sunset; the plain bristled with tent-pegs, litters were crushed, pedestrians were trampled, camels were overthrown: single combats with sticks and other weapons took place; here a woman, there a child, and there an animal were lost; briefly, it was a chaotic confusion. To my disgust, old Ali insisted upon bestowing his company upon me. He gave over his newly found mule to the boy Mohammed, bidding him take care of the beast, and mounted with me in the Shugduf. I had persuaded Shaykh Mas�ud, with a dollar, to keep close in rear of the pretty Meccan; and I wanted to sketch the Holy Hill. The senior began to give orders about the camel�I, counter-orders. The camel was halted. I urged it on: old Ali directed it to be stopped. Meanwhile the charming face that smiled at me from the litter grew dimmer and dimmer; the more I stormed, the less I was listened to�a string of camels crossed our path�I lost sight of the beauty. Then we began to advance. Again, my determination to sketch seemed likely to fail before the Zemzemi�s little snake�s eye. After a few minutes� angry search for expedients, one suggested itself. �Effendi!� said old Ali, �sit quiet; there is danger here.� I tossed about like one suffering from evil conscience or from the [p.200] colic. �Effendi!� shrieked the senior, �what art thou doing? Thou wilt be the death of us.� �Wallah!� I replied with a violent plunge, �it is all thy fault! There!� (another plunge)��put thy beard out of the other opening, and Allah will make it easy to us.� In the ecstasy of fear my tormentor turned his face, as he was bidden, towards the camel�s head. A second halt ensued, when I looked out of the aperture in rear, and made a rough drawing of the Mountain of Mercy. At the Akhshabayn, double lines of camels, bristling with litters, clashed with a shock more noisy than the meeting of torrents. It was already dark: no man knew what he was doing. The guns roared their brazen notes, re-echoed far and wide by the harsh voices of the stony hills. A shower of rockets bursting in the air threw into still greater confusion the timorous mob of women and children. At the same time martial music rose from the masses of Nizam and the stouter-hearted pilgrims were not sparing of their Labbayk[FN#6] and �id kum Mubarak[FN#7]���May your Festival be happy!� After the pass of the Two Rugged Hills, the road widened, and old Ali, who, during the bumping, had been in a silent convulsion of terror, recovered speech and spirits. This change he evidenced by beginning to be troublesome once more. Again I resolved to be his equal. Exclaiming, �My eyes are yellow with hunger!� I seized a pot full of savoury meat which the old man had previously stored for supper, and, without further preamble, began to eat it greedily, at the same time ready to shout with laughter at the mumbling and grumbling sounds that proceeded from the darkness of the litter. We were at least three hours on the road before reaching [p.201] Muzdalifah, and being fatigued, we resolved to pass the night there.[FN#8] The Mosque was brilliantly illuminated, but my hungry companions[FN#9] apparently thought more of supper and of sleep than of devotion.[FN#10] Whilst the tent was being raised, the Indians prepared our food, boiled our coffee, filled our pipes, and spread our rugs. Before sleeping each man collected for himself seven �Jamrah��bits of granite the size of a small bean.[FN#11] Then, weary with emotion and exertion, all lay down except the boy Mohammed, who preceded us to find encamping ground at Muna. Old Ali, in lending his mule, made the most stringent arrangements with the youth about the exact place and the exact hour of meeting�an act of simplicity at which I could not but smile. The night was by no means peaceful or silent. Lines of camels passed us every ten minutes, and the shouting of travellers continued till near dawn. Pilgrims ought to have nighted at the Mosque, but, as in Burckhardt�s time, so in mine, baggage was considered to be in danger thereabouts, and consequently most of the devotees spent the sermon-hours in brooding over their boxes. [FN#1] Ali Bey calls it �Jami al-Rahmah��of mercy. [FN#2] Here was a small chapel, which the Wahhabis were demolishing when Ali Bey was at Meccah. It has not been rebuilt. Upon this spot the Prophet, according to Burckhardt, used to stand during the ceremonies. [FN#3] Burckhardt gives this name to a place a little way on the left and about forty steps up the mountain. [FN#4] In Solomon�s time the Egyptian horse cost 150 silver shekels, which, if the greater shekel be meant, would still be about the average price, £18. Abbas, the late Pasha, did his best to buy first-rate Arab stallions: on one occasion he sent a mission to Al-Madinah for the sole purpose of fetching a rare work on farriery. Yet it is doubted whether he ever had a first-rate Nijdi. A Badawi sent to Cairo by one of the chiefs of Nijd, being shown by the viceroy�s order over the stables, on being asked his opinion of the blood, replied bluntly, to the great man�s disgust, that they did not contain a single thoroughbred[.] He added an apology on the part of his laird for the animals he had brought from Arabia, saying, that neither Sultan nor Shaykh could procure colts of the best strain. For none of these horses would a staunch admirer of the long-legged monster called in England a thoroughbred give twenty pounds. They are mere �rats,� short and stunted, ragged and fleshless, with rough coats and a slouching walk. But the experienced glance notes at once the fine snake-like head, ears like reeds, wide and projecting nostrils, large eyes, fiery and soft alternately, broad brow, deep base of skull, wide chest, crooked tail, limbs padded with muscle, and long elastic pasterns. And the animal put out to speed soon displays the wondrous force of blood. In fact, when buying Arabs, there are only three things to be considered,�blood, blood, and again blood. In Marco Polo�s time, Aden supplied the Indian market. The state of the tribes round the �Eye of Yaman� has effectually closed the road against horse-caravans for many years past. It is said that the Zu Mohammed and the Zu Hosayn, sub-families of the Benu Yam, a large tribe living around and north of Sana�a, in Al-Yaman, have a fine large breed called Al-Jaufi, and the clan Al-Aulaki, ([Arabic]), rear animals celebrated for swiftness and endurance. The other races are stunted, and some Arabs declare that the air of Al-Yaman causes a degeneracy in the first generation. The Badawin, on the contrary, uphold their superiority, and talk with the utmost contempt of the African horse. In India we now depend for Arab blood upon the Persian Gulf, and the consequences of monopoly display themselves in an increased price for inferior animals. Our studs are generally believed to be sinks for rupees. The Governments of India now object, it is said, to rearing, at a great cost, animals distinguished by nothing but ferocity. It is evident that Al-Hijaz never can stock the Indian market. Whether Al-Nijd will supply us when the transit becomes safer, is a consideration which time only can decide. Meanwhile it would be highly advisable to take steps for restoring the Aden trade by entering into closer relations with the Imam of Sana�a and the Badawi chiefs in the North of Al-Yaman. [FN#5] I obtained the following note upon the ceremonies of Wahhabi pilgrimage from one of their princes, Khalid Bey:�The Wahhabi (who, it must be borne in mind, calls himself a Muwahhid, or Unitarian, in opposition to Mushrik�Polytheist�any other sect but his own) at Meccah follows out his two principal tenets, public prayer for men daily, for women on Fridays, and rejection of the Prophet�s mediation. Imitating Mohammed, he spends the first night of pilgrimage at Muna, stands upon the hill Arafat, and, returning to Muna, passes three whole days there. He derides other Moslems, abridges and simplifies the Ka�abah ceremonies, and, if possible, is guided in his devotions by one of his own sect. [FN#6] This cry is repeated till the pilgrim reaches Muna; not afterwards. [FN#7] Another phrase is �Antum min al-aidin���May you be of the keepers of festival!� [FN#8] Hanafis usually follow the Prophet�s example in nighting at Muzdalifah; in the evening after prayers they attend at the Mosque, listen to the discourse, and shed plentiful tears. Most Shafe�is spend only a few hours at Muzdalifah. [FN#9] We failed to buy meat at Arafat, after noon, although the bazar was large and well stocked; it is usual to eat flesh there, consequently it is greedily bought up at an exorbitant price. [FN#10] Some sects consider the prayer at Muzdalifah a matter of vital importance. [FN#11] Jamrah is a �small pebble;� it is also called �Hasa,� in the plural, �Hasayat.� [p.202] CHAPTER XXX. THE CEREMONIES OF THE YAUM NAHR, OR THE THIRD DAY. AT dawn on the id al-Kurban (10th Zu�l Hijjah, Wednesday, 14th September) a gun warned us to lose no time; we arose hurriedly, and started up the Batn Muhassir to Muna. By this means we lost at Muzdalifah the �Salat al-id,� or �Festival Prayers,� the great solemnity of the Moslem year, performed by all the community at daybreak. My companion was so anxious to reach Meccah, that he would not hear of devotions. About eight A.M. we entered the village, and looked for the boy Mohammed in vain. Old Ali was dreadfully perplexed; a host of high-born Turkish pilgrims were, he said, expecting him; his mule was missing�could never appear�he must be late�should probably never reach Meccah�what would become of him? I began by administering admonition to the mind diseased; but signally failing in a cure, I amused myself with contemplating the world from my Shugduf, leaving the office of directing it to the old Zemzemi. Now he stopped, then he pressed forward; here he thought he saw Mohammed, there he discovered our tent; at one time he would �nakh� the camel to await, in patience, his supreme hour; at another, half mad with nervousness, he would urge the excellent Mas�ud to hopeless inquiries. Finally, by good fortune, we found one of the boy Mohammed�s cousins, who led us to an enclosure [p.203] called Hosh al-Uzam, in the Southern portion of the Muna Basin, at the base of Mount Sabir.[FN#1] There we pitched the tent, refreshed ourselves, and awaited the truant�s return. Old Ali, failing to disturb my equanimity, attempted, as those who consort with philosophers often will do, to quarrel with me. But, finding no material wherewith to build a dispute in such fragments as �Ah!���Hem!���Wallah!� he hinted desperate intentions against the boy Mohammed. When, however, the youth appeared, with even more jauntiness of mien than usual, Ali bin Ya Sin lost heart, brushed by him, mounted his mule, and, doubtless cursing us �under the tongue,� rode away, frowning viciously, with his heels playing upon the beast�s ribs. Mohammed had been delayed, he said, by the difficulty of finding asses. We were now to mount for �the Throwing,[FN#2]� as a preliminary to which we washed �with seven waters� the seven pebbles brought from Muzdalifah, and bound them in our Ihrams. Our first destination was the entrance to the western end of the long line which composes the Muna village. We found a swarming crowd in the narrow road opposite the �Jamrat al-Akabah,[FN#3]� or, as it is vulgarly called, the Shaytan al-Kabir�the �Great Devil.� These names distinguish it from another pillar, the �Wusta,� or �Central Place,� (of stoning,) built in the middle of Muna, and a third at the eastern end, �Al-Aula,� or the �First Place.[FN#4]� The �Shaytan al-Kabir� is a dwarf buttress of rude [p.204] masonry, about eight feet high by two and a half broad, placed against a rough wall of stones at the Meccan entrance to Muna. As the ceremony of �Ramy,� or Lapidation, must be performed on the first day by all pilgrims between sunrise and sunset, and as the fiend was malicious enough to appear in a rugged Pass,[FN#5] the crowd makes the place dangerous. On one side of the road, which is not forty feet broad, stood a row of shops belonging principally to barbers. On the other side is the rugged wall against which the pillar stands, with a chevaux de frise of Badawin and naked boys. The narrow space was crowded with pilgrims, all struggling like drowning men to approach as near as possible to the Devil; it would have been easy to run over the heads of the mass. Amongst them were horsemen with rearing chargers. Badawin on wild camels, and grandees on mules and asses, with outrunners, were breaking a way by assault and battery. I had read Ali Bey�s self-felicitations upon escaping this place with �only two wounds in the left leg,� and I had duly provided myself with a hidden dagger. The precaution was not useless. Scarcely had my donkey entered the crowd than he was overthrown by a dromedary, and I found myself under the stamping and roaring beast�s stomach. Avoiding being trampled upon by a judicious use of the knife, I lost no time in escaping from a place so ignobly dangerous. Some Moslem travellers assert, in proof of the sanctity of the spot, that no Moslem is ever killed here: Meccans assured me that accidents are by no means rare. Presently the boy Mohammed fought his way out of the crowd with a bleeding nose. We both sat down upon a bench before a barber�s booth, and, schooled by adversity, [p.205] awaited with patience an opportunity. Finding an opening, we approached within about five cubits of the place, and holding each stone between the thumb and the forefinger[FN#6] of the right hand, we cast it at the pillar, exclaiming, �In the name of Allah, and Allah is Almighty! (I do this) in Hatred of the Fiend and to his Shame.� After which came the Tahlil and the �Sana,� or praise to Allah. The seven stones being duly thrown, we retired, and entering the barber�s booth, took our places upon one of the earthern benches around it. This was the time to remove the Ihram or pilgrim�s garb, and to return to Ihlal, the normal state of Al-Islam. The barber shaved our heads,[FN#7] and, after trimming our beards and cutting our nails, made us repeat these words: �I purpose loosening my Ihram according to the Practice of the Prophet, Whom may Allah bless and preserve! O Allah, make unto me in every Hair, a Light, a Purity, and a generous Reward! In the name of Allah, and Allah is Almighty!� At the conclusion of his labour, the barber politely addressed to us a �Na�iman�Pleasure to you!� To which we as ceremoniously replied, �Allah give thee pleasure!� We had no clothes with us, but we could use our cloths to cover our heads, and slippers to defend our feet from the fiery sun; and we now could safely twirl our mustachios and stroke our beards�placid enjoyments of which we had been deprived by the [p.206] Laws of Pilgrimage. After resting about an hour in the booth, which, though crowded with sitting customers, was delightfully cool compared with the burning glare of the road, we mounted our asses, and at eleven A.M. we started Meccah-wards. This return from Muna to Meccah is called Al-Nafr, or the Flight[FN#8]: we did not fail to keep our asses at speed, with a few halts to refresh ourselves with gugglets of water. There was nothing remarkable in the scene: our ride in was a repetition of our ride out. In about half an hour we entered the city, passing through that classical locality called �Batn Kuraysh,� which was crowded with people, and then we repaired to the boy Mohammed�s house for the purpose of bathing and preparing to visit the Ka�abah. Shortly after our arrival, the youth returned home in a state of excitement, exclaiming, �Rise, Effendi! dress and follow me!� The Ka�abah, though open, would for a time be empty, so that we should escape the crowd. My pilgrim�s garb, which had not been removed, was made to look neat and somewhat Indian, and we sallied forth together without loss of time. A crowd had gathered round the Ka�abah, and I had no wish to stand bareheaded and barefooted in the midday September sun. At the cry of �Open a path for the Haji who would enter the House,� the gazers made way. Two stout Meccans, who stood below the door, raised me in their arms, whilst a third drew me from above into the building. At the entrance I was accosted by several officials, dark-looking Meccans, of whom the blackest and plainest was a youth of the Benu Shaybah family,[FN#9] [p.207] the sangre-azul of Al-Hijaz. He held in his hand the huge silver-gilt padlock of the Ka�abah,[FN#10] and presently taking his seat upon a kind of wooden press in the left corner of the hall, he officially inquired my name, nation, and other particulars. The replies were satisfactory, and the boy Mohammed was authoritatively ordered to conduct me round the building, and to recite the prayers. I will not deny that, looking at the windowless walls, the officials at the door, and the crowd of excited fanatics below� �And the place death, considering who I was,�[FN#11] my feelings were of the trapped-rat description, acknowledged by the immortal nephew of his uncle Perez. This did not, however, prevent my carefully observing the scene during our long prayers, and making a rough plan with a pencil upon my white Ihram. Nothing is more simple than the interior of this celebrated building. The pavement, which is level with the ground, is composed of slabs of fine and various coloured marbles, mostly, however, white, disposed chequerwise. The walls, as far as they can be seen, are of the same material, but the pieces are irregularly shaped, and many of them are engraved with long inscriptions in the Suls and other modern characters. The upper part of the walls, together with the ceiling, at which it is considered disrespectful to look,[FN#12] are covered with handsome [p.208] red damask, flowered over with gold,[FN#13] and tucked up about six feet high, so as to be removed from pilgrims� hands. The flat roof is upheld by three cross-beams, whose shapes appear under the arras; they rest upon the eastern and western walls, and are supported in the centre by three columns[FN#14] about twenty inches in diameter, covered with carved and ornamented aloes wood.[FN#15] At the Iraki corner there is a dwarf door, called Bab al-Taubah (of Repentance).[FN#16] It leads into a narrow passage and to the staircase by which the servants ascend to the roof: it is never opened except for working purposes. The �Aswad� or [p.209] �As�ad[FN#17]� corner is occupied by a flat-topped and quadrant-shaped press or safe,[FN#18] in which at times is placed the key of the Ka�abah.[FN#19] Both door and safe are of aloes wood. Between the columns, and about nine feet from the ground, ran bars of a metal which I could not distinguish, and hanging to them were many lamps, said to be of gold. Although there were in the Ka�abah but a few attendants engaged in preparing it for the entrance of pilgrims,[FN#20] the windowless stone walls and the choked-up door made it worse than the Piombi of Venice; perspiration trickled in large drops, and I thought with horror what it must be when filled with a mass of furiously jostling and crushing fanatics. Our devotions consisted of a two-bow prayer,[FN#21] followed by long supplications at the Shami (West) corner, the Iraki (north) angle, the Yamani (south), and, lastly, opposite the southern third of the back wall.[FN#22] These concluded, I returned to the door, where payment is made. The boy Mohammed told me that the total expense would be seven dollars. At the same time he had been indulging aloud in his favourite rhodomontade, boasting of my greatness, and had declared me to be an Indian pilgrim, a race still supposed at [p.210] Meccah to be made of gold.[FN#23] When seven dollars were tendered, they were rejected with instance. Expecting something of the kind, I had been careful to bring no more than eight. Being pulled and interpellated by half a dozen attendants, my course was to look stupid, and to pretend ignorance of the language. Presently the Shaybah youth bethought him of a contrivance. Drawing forth from the press the key of the Ka�abah, he partly bared it of its green-silk gold-lettered etui,[FN#24] and rubbed a golden knob quartrefoil-shaped upon my eyes, in order to brighten them. I submitted to the operation with a good grace, and added a dollar�my last�to the former offering. The Sharif received it with a hopeless glance, and, to my satisfaction, would not put forth his hand to be kissed. Then the attendants began to demand vails I replied by opening my empty pouch. When let down from the door by the two brawny Meccans, I was expected to pay them, and accordingly appointed to meet them at the boy Mohammed�s house; an arrangement to which they grumblingly assented. When delivered from these troubles, I was congratulated by my sharp companion thus: �Wallah, Effendi! thou hast escaped well! some men have left their skins behind.[FN#25]� [p.211] All pilgrims do not enter the Ka�abah[FN#26]; and many refuse to do so for religious reasons. Omar Effendi, for instance, who never missed a pilgrimage, had never seen the interior.[FN#27] Those who tread the hallowed floor are bound, among many other things, never again to walk barefooted, to take up fire with the fingers, or to tell lies. Most really conscientious men cannot afford the luxuries of slippers, tongs, and truth. So thought Thomas, when offered the apple which would give him the tongue which cannot lie:� ��My tongue is mine ain,� true Thomas said. �A gudely gift ye wad gie to me! I neither dought to buy nor sell At fair or tryst, where I may be, I dought neither speak to prince or peer, Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!�� Amongst the Hindus I have met with men who have proceeded upon a pilgrimage to Dwarka, and yet who would not receive the brand of the god, because lying would then be forbidden to them. A confidential servant of a friend in Bombay naïvely declared that he had not been marked, as the act would have ruined him. There is a sad truth in what he said: Lying to the Oriental is meat and drink, and the roof that shelters him. The Ka�abah had been dressed in her new attire when we entered.[FN#28] The covering, however, instead of being [p.212] secured at the bottom to the metal rings in the basement, was tucked up by ropes from the roof, and depended over each face in two long tongues. It was of a brilliant black, and the Hizam�the zone or golden band running round the upper portion of the building�as well as the Burka (face-veil), were of dazzling brightness.[FN#29] The origin of this custom must be sought in the ancient practice of typifying the church visible by a virgin or bride. The poet Abd al-Rahim al Bura�i, in one of his Gnostic effusions, has embodied the idea:� ([Arabic]) �And Meccah�s bride (i.e. the Ka�abah) is displayed with (miraculous) signs.� This idea doubtless led to the face-veil, the covering, and the guardianship of eunuchs. The Meccan temple was first dressed as a mark of [p.213] honour by Tobba the Himyarite when he Judaized.[FN#30] If we accept this fact, which is vouched for by Oriental history, we are led to the conclusion that the children of Israel settled at Meccah had connected the temple with their own faith, and, as a corollary, that the prophet of Al-Islam introduced their apocryphal traditions into his creed. The pagan Arabs did not remove the coverings: the old and torn Kiswah was covered with a new cloth, and the weight threatened to crush the building.[FN#31] From the time of Kusay, the Ka�abah was veiled by subscription, till Abu Rabi�at al-Mughayrah bin Abdullah, who, having acquired great wealth by commerce, offered to provide the Kiswah on alternate years, and thereby gained the name of Al-adil. The Prophet preferred a covering of fine Yaman cloth, and directed the expense to be defrayed by the Bayt al-Mal, or public treasury. Omar chose Egyptian linen, ordering the Kiswah to be renewed every year, and the old covering to be distributed among the pilgrims. In the reign of Osman, the Ka�abah was twice clothed, in winter and summer. For the former season, it received a Kamis, or Tobe (shirt) of brocade; with an Izar, or veil: for the latter a suit of fine linen. Mu�awiyah at first supplied linen and brocade; he afterwards exchanged the former for striped Yaman stuff, and ordered Shaybah bin Osman to strip the Ka�abah and to perfume the walls with Khaluk. Shaybah divided the old Kiswah among the pilgrims, and Abdullah bin Abbas did not object to this distribution.[FN#32] The Caliph Ma�amun (9th century) ordered [p.214] the dress to be changed three times a year. In his day it was red brocade on the 10th Muharram; fine linen on the 1st Rajab; and white brocade on the 1st Shawwal. At last he was informed that the veil applied on the 10th of Muharram was too closely followed by the red brocade in the next month, and that it required renewing on the 1st of Shawwal. This he ordered to be done. Al-Mutawakkil (ninth century), when informed that the dress was spoiled by pilgrims, at first ordered two to be given and the brocade shirt to be let down as far as the pavement: at last he sent a new veil every two months. During the Caliphat of the Abbasides this investiture came to signify sovereignty in Al-Hijaz, which passed alternately from Baghdad to Egypt and Al-Yaman. In Al-Idrisi�s time (twel[f]th century A.D.) the Kiswah was composed of black silk, and renewed every year by the Caliph of Baghdad. Ibn Jubayr writes that it was green and gold. The Kiswah remained with Egypt when Sultan Kalaun[FN#33] (thirteenth century A.D.) conveyed the rents of two villages, �Baysus� and �Sindbus,[FN#34]� to the expense of providing an outer black and an inner red curtain for the Ka�abah, with hangings for the Prophet�s tomb at Al-Madinah. When the Holy Land fell under the power of Osmanli, Sultan Salim ordered the Kiswah to be black; and his son Sultan Sulayman the Magnificent (sixteenth [p.215] century A.D.), devoted considerable sums to the purpose. The Kiswah was afterwards renewed at the accession of each Sultan. And the Wahhabis, during the first year of their conquest, covered the Ka�abah with a red Kiswah of the same stuff as the fine Arabian Aba or cloak, and made at Al-Hasa. The Kiswah is now worked at a cotton manufactory called Al-Khurunfish, of the Tumn Bab al-Sha�ariyah, Cairo. It is made by a hereditary family, called the Bayt al-Sadi, and, as the specimen in my possession proves, it is a coarse tissue of silk and cotton mixed. The Kiswah is composed of eight pieces�two for each face of the Ka�abah�the seams being concealed by the Hizam, a broad band, which at a distance looks like gold; it is lined with white calico, and is supplied with cotton ropes. Anciently it is said all the Koran was interwoven into it. Now, it is inscribed �Verily, the First of Houses founded for Mankind (to worship in) is that at Bekkah[FN#35]; blessed and a Direction to all Creatures�; together with seven chapters, namely, the Cave, Mariam, the Family of Amran, Repentance, T.H. with Y.S. and Tabarak. The character is that called Tumar, the largest style of Eastern calligraphy, legible from a considerable distance.[FN#36] The Hizam is a band about two feet broad, and surrounding the Ka�abah at two-thirds of its height. It is divided into four pieces, which are sewn together. On the first and second is inscribed the �Throne verslet,� and on the third and fourth the titles of the reigning Sultan. These inscriptions are, like the Burka, or door curtain, gold worked into red silk, by the Bayt al-Sadi. When the Kiswah is ready at Khurunfish, it is carried in [p.216] procession to the Mosque Al-Hasanayn, where it is lined, sewn, and prepared for the journey.[FN#37] After quitting the Ka�abah, I returned home exhausted, and washed with henna and warm water, to mitigate the pain of the sun-scalds upon my arms, shoulders, and breast. The house was empty, all the Turkish pilgrims being still at Muna; and the Kabirah�the old lady�received me with peculiar attention. I was ushered into an upper room, whose teak wainscotings, covered with Cufic and other inscriptions, large carpets, and ample Diwans, still showed a sort of ragged splendour. The family had �seen better days,� the Sharif Ghalib having confiscated three of its houses; but it is still proud, and cannot merge the past into the present. In the �drawing-room,� which the Turkish colonel occupied when at Meccah, the Kabirah supplied me with a pipe, coffee, cold water, and breakfast. I won her heart by praising the graceless boy Mohammed; like all mothers, she dearly loved the scamp of the family. When he entered, and saw his maternal parent standing near me, with only the end of her veil drawn over her mouth, he began to scold her with divers insinuations. �Soon thou wilt sit amongst the men in the hall!� he exclaimed. �O, my son,� rejoined the Kabirah, �fear Allah: thy mother is in years!��and truly she was so, being at least fifty. �A-a-h� sneered the youth, who had formed, as boys of the world must do, or appear to do, a very low estimate of the sex. The old lady understood the drift of the exclamation, and departed with a half-laughing �May Allah disappoint thee!� She soon, however, returned, bringing me water for ablution; and having heard that I had not yet sacrificed a sheep at Muna, enjoined me to return and perform without delay that important rite. [p.217]After resuming our laical toilette, and dressing gaily for the great festival, we mounted our asses about the cool of the afternoon, and, returning to Muna, we found the tent full of visitors. Ali ibn Ya Sin, the Zemzemi, had sent me an amphora of holy water, and the carrier was awaiting the customary dollar. With him were several Meccans, one of whom spoke excellent Persian. We sat down, and chatted together for an hour; and I afterwards learned from the boy Mohammed, that all had pronounced me to be an �Ajami. After their departure we debated about the victim, which is only a Sunnat, or practice of the Prophet.[FN#38] It is generally sacrificed immediately after the first lapidation, and we had already been guilty of delay. Under these circumstances, and considering the meagre condition of my purse, I would not buy a sheep, but contented myself with watching my neighbours. They gave themselves great trouble, especially a large party of Indians pitched near us, to buy the victim cheap; but the Badawin were not less acute, and he was happy who paid less than a dollar and a quarter. Some preferred contributing to buy a lean ox. None but the Sharif and the principal dignitaries slaughtered camels. The pilgrims dragged their victims to a smooth rock near the Akabah, above which stands a small open pavilion, whose sides, red with fresh blood, showed that the prince and his attendants had been busy at sacrifice. [FN#39] Others stood before their tents, and, directing the victim�s face towards the Ka�abah, cut its throat, ejaculating, �Bismillah! Allaho Akbar[FN#40]� [p.218] The boy Mohammed sneeringly directed my attention to the Indians, who, being a mild race, had hired an Arab butcher to do the deed of blood; and he aroused all Shaykh Nur�s ire by his taunting comments upon the chicken-heartedness of the men of Hind. It is considered a meritorious act to give away the victim without eating any portion of its flesh. Parties of Takruri might be seen sitting vulture-like, contemplating the sheep and goats; and no sooner was the signal given, than they fell upon the bodies, and cut them up without removing them. The surface of the valley soon came to resemble the dirtiest slaughter-house, and my prescient soul drew bad auguries for the future. We had spent a sultry afternoon in the basin of Muna, which is not unlike a volcanic crater, an Aden closed up at the seaside. Towards night the occasional puffs of Samum ceased, and through the air of deadly stillness a mass of purple nimbus, bisected by a thin grey line of mist-cloud, rolled down upon us from the Taif hills. When darkness gave the signal, most of the pilgrims pressed towards the square in front of the Muna Mosque, to enjoy the pyrotechnics and the discharge of cannon. But during the spectacle came on a windy storm, whose lightnings, flashing their fire from pole to pole paled the rockets; and whose thunderings, re-echoed by the rocky hills, dumbed the puny artillery of man. We were disappointed in our hopes of rain. A few huge drops pattered upon the plain and sank into its thirsty entrails; all the rest was thunder and lightning, dust-clouds and whirlwind. [FN#1] Even pitching ground here is charged to pilgrims. [FN#2] Some authorities advise that this rite of �Ramy� be performed on foot. [FN#3] The word �Jamrah� is applied to the place of stoning, as well as to the stones. [FN#4] These numbers mark the successive spots where the Devil, in the shape of an old Shaykh, appeared to Adam, Abraham, and Ishmael, and was driven back by the simple process taught by Gabriel, of throwing stones about the size of a bean. [FN#5] I borrow this phrase from Ali Bey, who, however, speaks more like an ignorant Catalonian than a learned Abbaside, when he calls the pillar �La Maison du Diable,� and facetiously asserts that �le diable a eu la malice de placer sa maison dans un lieu fort etroit qui n�a peut-etre pas 34 pieds de large.� [FN#6] Some hold the pebble as a schoolboy does a marble, others between the thumb and forefinger extended, others shoot them from the thumb knuckle, and most men consult their own convenience. [FN#7] The barber removed all my hair. Hanifis shave at least a quarter of the head, Shafe�is a few hairs on the right side. The prayer is, as usual, differently worded, some saying, �O Allah this my Forelock is in Thy Hand, then grant me for every Hair a Light on Resurrection-day, by Thy Mercy O most Merciful of the Merciful!� I remarked that the hair was allowed to lie upon the ground, whereas strict Moslems, with that reverence for man�s body�the Temple of the Supreme�which characterizes their creed, carefully bury it in the earth. [FN#8] This word is confounded with �Dafa� by many Moslem authors. Some speak of the Nafr from Arafat to Muzdalifah and the Dafa from Muzdalifah to Muna. I have used the words as my Mutawwif used them. [FN#9] They keep the keys of the House. In my day the head of the family was �Shaykh Ahmad.� [FN#10] In Ibn Jubayr�s time this large padlock was of gold. It is said popularly that none but the Benu Shaybah can open it; a minor miracle, doubtless proceeding from the art of some Eastern Hobbs or Bramah. [FN#11] However safe a Christian might be at Meccah, nothing could preserve him from the ready knives of enraged fanatics if detected in the House. The very idea is pollution to a Moslem. [FN#12] I do not known the origin of this superstition; but it would be unsafe for a pilgrim to look fixedly at the Ka�abah ceiling. Under the arras I was told is a strong planking of Saj, or Indian teak, and above it a stuccoed Sath, or flat roof. [FN#13] Exactly realising the description of our English bard:� �Goodly arras of great majesty, Woven with gold and silk so close and nere, That the rich metal lurked privily, As feigning to be hid from envious eye.� [FN#14] Ibn Jubayr mentions three columns of teak. Burckhardt and Ali Bey, two. In Al-Fasi�s day there were four. The Kuraysh erected six columns in double row. Generally the pillars have been three in number. [FN#15] This wood, which has been used of old to ornament sacred buildings in the East, is brought to Meccah in great quantities by Malay and Java pilgrims. The best kind is known by its oily appearance and a �fizzing� sound in fire; the cunning vendors easily supply it with these desiderata. [FN#16] Ibn Jubayr calls it Bab al-Rahmah. [FN#17] The Hajar al-Aswad is also called Al-As�ad, or the Propitious. [FN#18] Here, in Ibn Jubayr�s time, stood two boxes full of Korans. [FN#19] The key is sometimes placed in the hands of a child of the house of Shaybah, who sits in state, with black slaves on both sides. [FN#20] In Ibn Jubayr�s day the Ka�abah was opened with more ceremony. The ladder was rolled up to the door, and the chief of the Benu Shaybah, ascending it, was covered by attendants with a black veil from head to foot, whilst he opened the padlock. Then, having kissed the threshold, he entered, shut the door behind him, and prayed two Rukats; after which, all the Benu Shaybah, and, lastly, the vulgar were admitted. In these day the veil is obsolete. The Shaykh enters the Ka�abah alone, perfumes it and prays; the pilgrims are then admitted en masse; and the style in which the eunuchs handle their quarter-staves forms a scene more animated than decorous. [FN#21] Some pray four instead of two bows. [FN#22] Burckhardt erroneously says, �in every corner.� [FN#23] These Indians are ever in extremes, paupers or millionaires, and, like all Moslems, the more they pay at Meccah the higher becomes their character and religious titles. A Turkish Pasha seldom squanders as much money as does a Moslem merchant from the far East. Khudabakhsh, the Lahore shawl-dealer, owned to having spent 800l. in feastings and presents. He appeared to consider that sum a trifle, although, had a debtor carried off one tithe of it, his health would have been seriously affected. [FN#24] The cover of the key is made, like Abraham�s veil, of three colours, red, black or green. It is of silk, embroidered with golden letters, and upon it are written the Bismillah, the name of the reigning Sultan, �Bag of the key of the holy Ka�abah,� and a verselet from the �Family of Amran� (Koran, ch. 3). It is made, like the Kiswah, at Khurunfish, a place that will be noticed below. [FN#25] �Ecorches���pelati;� the idea is common to most imaginative nations. [FN#26] The same is the case at Al-Madinah; many religious men object on conscientious grounds to enter the Prophet�s mosque. The poet quoted below made many visitations to Al-Madinah, but never could persuade himself to approach the tomb. The Esquire Carver saw two young Turks who had voluntarily had their eyes thrust out at Meccah as soon as they had seen the glory and visible sanctity of the tomb of Mohammed. I �doubt the fact,� which thus appears ushered in by a fiction. [FN#27] I have not thought it necessary to go deep into the list of �Muharramat,� or actions forbidden to the pilgrim who has entered the Ka�abah. They are numerous and meaningless. [FN#28] The use of the feminine pronoun is explained below. When unclothed, the Ka�abah is called Uryanah (naked), in opposition to its normal state, �Muhramah,� or clad in Ihram. In Burckhardt�s time the house remained naked for fifteen days; now the investiture is effected in a few hours. [FN#29] The gold-embroidered curtain covering the Ka�abah door is called by the learned �Burka al-Ka�abah� (the Ka�abah�s face-veil), by the vulgar Burka Fatimah; they connect it in idea with the Prophet�s daughter. [FN#30] The pyramids, it is said, were covered from base to summit with yellow silk or satin. [FN#31] At present the Kiswah, it need scarcely be said, does not cover the flat roof. [FN#32] Ayishah also, when Shaybah proposed to bury the old Kiswah, that it might not be worn by the impure, directed him to sell it, and to distribute the proceeds to the poor. The Meccans still follow the first half, but neglect the other part of the order given by the �Mother of the Moslems.� Kazi Khan advises the proceeds of the sale being devoted to the repairs of the temple. The �Siraj al-Wahhaj� positively forbids, as sinful, the cutting, transporting, selling, buying, and placing it between the leaves of the Koran. Kutb al-Din (from whom I borrow these particulars) introduces some fine and casuistic distinctions. In his day, however, the Benu Shaybah claimed the old, after the arrival of the new Kiswah; and their right to it was admitted. To the present day they continue to sell it. [FN#33] Some authors also mention a green Kiswah, applied by this monarch. Embroidered on it were certain verselets of the Koran, the formula of the Moslem faith, and the names of the Prophet�s Companions. [FN#34] Burckhardt says �Bysous� and �Sandabeir.� [FN#35] From the �Family of Amran� (chap. 3). �Bekkah� is �a place of crowding�; hence applied to Meccah generally. Some writers, however, limit it to the part of the city round the Harim. [FN#36] It is larger than the suls. Admirers of Eastern calligraphy may see a �Bismillah,� beautifully written in Tumar, on the wall of Sultan Mu�ayyad�s Mosque at Cairo. [FN#37] Mr. Lane (Mod. Egypt. vol. iii. chap. 25) has given an ample and accurate description of the Kiswah. I have added a few details, derived from �Khalil Effendi� of Cairo, a professor of Arabic, and an excellent French scholar. [FN#38] Those who omit the rite fast ten days; three during the pilgrimage season, and the remaining seven at some other time. [FN#39] The camel is sacrificed by thrusting a pointed instrument into the interval between the sternum and the neck. This anomaly may be accounted for by the thickness and hardness of the muscles of the throat. [FN#40] It is strange that the accurate Burckhardt should make the Moslem say, when slaughtering or sacrificing, �In the name of the most Merciful God!� As Mr. Lane justly observes, the attribute of mercy is omitted on these occasions. [p.219] CHAPTER XXXI. THE THREE DAYS OF DRYING FLESH. ALL was dull after the excitement of the Great Festival. The heat of the succeeding night rendered every effort to sleep abortive; and as our little camp required a guard in a place so celebrated for plunderers, I spent the greater part of the time sitting in the clear pure moon-light.[FN#1] After midnight we again repaired to the Devils, and, beginning with the Ula, or first pillar, at the Eastern extremity of Muna, threw at each, seven stones (making a total of twenty-one), with the ceremonies before described. On Thursday (Sept. 15th, 1853), we arose before dawn, and prepared with a light breakfast for the fatigues of a climbing walk. After half an hour spent in hopping from boulder to boulder, we arrived at a place situated on the lower declivity of the Jabal Sabir, the northern wall of the Muna basin. Here is the Majarr al-Kabsh, �the Dragging-place of the Ram,� a small, whitewashed square, divided [p.220] into two compartments. The first is entered by a few ragged steps in the south-east angle, which lead to an enclosure thirty feet by fifteen. In the north-east corner is a block of granite (A), in which a huge gash, several inches broad, some feet deep, and completely splitting the stone in knife-shape, notes the spot where Ibrahim�s blade fell when the archangel Gabriel forbade him to slay Ismail his son. The second compartment contains a diminutive hypogaeum (B). In this cave the patriarch sacrificed the victim, which gives the place a name. We descended by a flight of steps, and under the stifling ledge of rock found mats and praying-rugs, which, at this early hour, were not overcrowded. We followed the example of the patriarchs, and prayed a two-bow prayer in each of the enclosures. After distributing the usual gratification, we left the place, and proceeded to mount the hill, in hope of seeing some of the apes said still to haunt the heights. These animals are supposed by the Meccans to have been Jews, thus transformed for having broken the Sabbath by hunting.[FN#2] They abound in the elevated regions about Arafat and Taif, where they are caught by mixing the juice of the Asclepias and narcotics with dates and other sweet bait.[FN#3] The Hijazi ape is a hideous cynocephalus, with small eyes placed close together, and almost hidden by a disproportionate snout; a greenish-brown coat, long arms, and a stern of lively pink, like fresh meat. They [p.221] are docile, and are said to be fond of spirituous liquors, and to display an inordinate affection for women. Al-Mas�udi tells about them a variety of anecdotes. According to him their principal use in Hind and Chin was to protect kings from poison, by eating suspected dishes. The Badawin have many tales concerning them. It is universally believed that they catch and kill kites, by exposing the rosy portion of their persons and concealing the rest; the bird pounces upon what appears to be raw meat, and presently finds himself viciously plucked alive. Throughout Arabia an old story is told of them. A merchant was once plundered during his absence by a troop of these apes; they tore open his bales, and, charmed with the scarlet hue of the Tarbushes, began applying those articles of dress to uses quite opposite to their normal purpose. The merchant was in despair, when his slave offered for a consideration to recover the goods. Placing himself in the front, like a fugleman to the ape-company, he went through a variety of man�uvres with a Tarbush, and concluded with throwing it far away. The recruits carefully imitated him, and the drill concluded with his firing a shot; the plunderers decamped and the caps were recovered. Failing to see any apes, we retired to the tent ere the sun waxed hot, in anticipation of a terrible day. Nor were we far wrong. In addition to the heat, we had swarms of flies, and the blood-stained earth began to reek with noisome vapours. Nought moved in the air except kites and vultures, speckling the deep blue sky: the denizens of earth seemed paralysed by the fire from above. I spent the time between breakfast and nightfall lying half-dressed upon a mat, moving round the tent-pole to escape the glare, and watching my numerous neighbours, male and female. The Indians were particularly kind, filling my pipe, offering cooled water, and performing similar little offices. I repaid them with a supply of provisions, [p.222] which, at the Muna market-prices, these unfortunates could ill afford. When the moon arose the boy Mohammed and I walked out into the town, performed our second lapidation,[FN#4] and visited the coffee-houses. The shops were closed early, but business was transacted in places of public resort till midnight. We entered the houses of numerous acquaintances, who accosted my companion, and were hospitably welcomed with pipes and coffee. The first question always was, �Who is this pilgrim?� and more than once the reply, �An Afghan,� elicited the language of my own country, which I could no longer speak. Of this phenomenon, however, nothing was thought: many Afghans settled in India know not a word of Pushtu, and even above the Passes many of the townspeople are imperfectly [p.223] acquainted with it. The Meccans in consequence of their extensive intercourse with strangers and habits of travelling, are admirable conversational linguists. They speak Arabic remarkably well, and with a volubility surpassing the most lively of our continental nations. Persian, Turkish, and Hindustani are generally known: and the Mutawwifs, who devote themselves to various races of pilgrims, soon become masters of many languages. Returning homewards, we were called to a spot by the clapping of hands[FN#5] and the loud sound of song. We found a crowd of Badawin surrounding a group engaged in their favourite occupation of dancing. The performance is wild in the extreme, resembling rather the hopping of bears than the inspirations of Terpischore. The bystanders joined in the song; an interminable recitative, as usual, in the minor key, and�Orientals are admirable timists�it sounded like one voice. The refrain appeared to be� �La Yayha! La Yayha!� to which no one could assign a meaning. At other times they sang something intelligible. For instance:� [Arabic] That is to say,� �On the Great Festival-day at Muna I saw my lord. I am a stranger amongst you, therefore pity me!� This couplet may have, like the puerilities of certain modern and European poets, an abstruse and mystical [p.224] meaning, to be discovered when the Arabs learn to write erudite essays upon nursery rhymes. The style of saltation, called Rufayah, rivalled the song. The dancers raised both arms above their heads, brandishing a dagger, pistol, or some other small weapon. They followed each other by hops, on one or both feet, sometimes indulging in the most demented leaps; whilst the bystanders clapped with their palms a more enlivening measure. This I was told is especially their war-dance. They have other forms, which my eyes were not fated to see. Amongst the Badawin of Al-Hijaz, unlike the Somali and other African races, the sexes never mingle: the girls may dance together, but it would be disgraceful to perform in the company of men. After so much excitement we retired to rest, and slept soundly. On Friday, the 12th Zu�l Hijjah, the camels appeared, according to order, at early dawn, and they were loaded with little delay. We were anxious to enter Meccah in time for the sermon, and I for one was eager to escape the now pestilential air of Muna. Literally, the land stank. Five or six thousand animals had been slain and cut up in this Devil�s Punch-bowl. I leave the reader to imagine the rest. The evil might be avoided by building abattoirs, or, more easily still, by digging long trenches, and by ordering all pilgrims, under pain of mulct, to sacrifice in the same place. Unhappily, the spirit of Al-Islam is opposed to these precautions of common sense,��Inshallah� and �Kismat� must take the place of prevention and of cure. And at Meccah, the head-quarters of the faith, a desolating attack of cholera is preferred to the impiety of �flying in the face of Providence,� and the folly of endeavouring to avert inevitable decrees.[FN#6] [p.225] Mounting our camels, and led by Mas�ud, we entered Muna by the eastern end, and from the litter threw the remaining twenty-one stones. I could now see the principal lines of shops, and, having been led to expect a grand display of merchandise, was surprised to find only mat-booths and sheds, stocked chiefly with provisions. The exit from Muna was crowded, for many, like ourselves, were flying from the revolting scene. I could not think without pity of those whom religious scruples detained another day and a half in this foul spot. After entering Meccah we bathed, and when the noon drew nigh we repaired to the Harim for the purpose of hearing the sermon. Descending to the cloisters below the Bab al-Ziyadah, I stood wonder-struck by the scene before me. The vast quadrangle was crowded with worshippers sitting in long rows, and everywhere facing the central black tower: the showy colours of their dresses were not to be surpassed by a garden of the most brilliant flowers, and such diversity of detail would probably not be seen massed together in any other building upon earth. The women, a dull and sombre-looking group, sat apart in their peculiar place. The Pasha stood on the roof of Zemzem, surrounded by guards in Nizam uniform. Where the principal Olema stationed themselves, the crowd was thicker; and in the more auspicious spots nought was to be seen but a pavement of heads and shoulders. Nothing seemed to move but a few Darwayshes, who, censer in hand, sidled through the rows and received the unsolicited alms of the Faithful. Apparently in the midst, and raised above the crowd by the tall, pointed pulpit, whose gilt spire flamed in the sun, sat the preacher, an old man with snowy beard. The style of head-dress [p.226] called Taylasan[FN#7] covered his turband, which was white as his robes,[FN#8] and a short staff supported his left hand.[FN#9] Presently he arose, took the staff in his right hand, pronounced a few inaudible words,[FN#10] and sat down again on one of the lower steps, whilst a Mu�ezzin, at the foot of the pulpit, recited the call to sermon. Then the old man stood up and began to preach. As the majestic figure began to exert itself there was a deep silence. Presently a general �Amin� was intoned by the crowd at the conclusion of some long sentence. And at last, towards the end of the sermon, every third or fourth word was followed by the simultaneous rise and fall of thousands of voices. I have seen the religious ceremonies of many lands, but never�nowhere�aught so solemn, so impressive as this. [FN#1] It is not safe to perform this ceremony at an early hour, although the ritual forbids it being deferred after sunset. A crowd of women, however, assembled at the Devils in the earlier part of the 11th night (our 10th); and these dames, despite the oriental modesty of face-veils, attack a stranger with hands and stones as heartily as English hop-gatherers hasten to duck the Acteon who falls in their way. Hence, popular usage allows stones to be thrown by men until the morning prayers of the 11th Zu�l Hijjah. [FN#2] Traditions about these animals vary in the different parts of Arabia. At Aden, for instance, they are supposed to be a remnant of the rebellious tribe of �ad. It is curious that the popular Arabic, like the Persian names, Sa�adan, Maymun, Shadi, &c., &c., are all expressive of (a probably euphuistic) �propitiousness.� [FN#3] The Egyptians generally catch, train, and take them to the banks of the Nile, where the �Kurayeati� (ape-leader) is a popular character. [FN#4] This ceremony, as the reader will have perceived, is performed by the Shafe�is on the 10th, the 11th, and the 12th of Zu�l Hijjah. The Hanafis conclude their stoning on the 13th. The times vary with each day, and differ considerably in religious efficacy. On the night of the 10th (our 9th), for instance, lapidation, according to some authorities, cannot take place; others permit it, with a sufficient reason. Between the dawn and sunrise it is Makruh, or disapproved of. Between sunrise and the declination is the Sunnat-time, and therefore the best. From noon to sunset it is Mubah, or permissible: the same is the case with the night, if a cause exist. On the 11th and 12th of Zu�l Hijjah lapidation is disapproved of from sunset to sunrise. The Sunnat is from noon to sunset, and it is permissible at all other hours. The number of stones thrown by the Shafe�is, is 49, viz., 7 on the 10th day, 7 at each pillar (total 21) on the 11th day, and the same on the 12th Zu�l Hijjah. The Hanafis also throw 21 stones on the 13th, which raises their number to 70. The first 7 bits of granite must be collected at Muzdalifah; the rest may be taken from the Muna valley; and all must be washed 7 times before being thrown. In throwing, the Hanafis attempt to approach the pillar, if possible, standing within reach of it. Shafe�is may stand at a greater distance, which should not, however, pass the limits of 5 cubits. [FN#5] Here called Safk. It is mentioned by Herodotus, and known to almost every oriental people. The Badawin sometimes, though rarely, use a table or kettledrum. Yet, amongst the �Pardah,� or miuscal modes of the East, we find the Hijazi ranking with the Isfahani and the Iraki. Southern Arabia has never been celebrated for producing musicians, like the banks of the Tigris to which we owe, besides castanets and cymbals, the guitar, the drum, and the lute, father of the modern harp. The name of this instrument is a corruption of the Arabic �Al-�ud� ([Arabic text]), through liuto and luth, into lute. [FN#6] NOTE TO THIRD EDITION.�Since this was written there have been two deadly epidemics, which began, it is reported, at Muna. The victims, however, have never numbered 700,000, nor is �each pilgrim required to sacrifice one animal at the shrine of Mohammed,�(!) as we find it in �Cholera Prospects,� by Tilbury Fox, M.D. (Hardwicke). [FN#7] A scarf thrown over the head, with one end brought round under the chin and passed over the left shoulder composes the �Taylasan.� [FN#8] As late as Ibn Jubayr�s time the preacher was habited from head to foot in black; and two Mu�ezzins held black flags fixed in rings on both sides of the pulpit, with the staves propped upon the first step. [FN#9] Mr. Lane remarks, that the wooden sword is never held by the preacher but in a country that has been won from infidels by Moslems. Burckhardt more correctly traces the origin of the custom to the early days of Al-Islam, when the preachers found it necessary to be prepared for surprises. And all authors who, like Ibn Jubayr, described the Meccan ceremonies, mention the sword or staff. The curious reader will consult this most accurate of Moslem travellers; and a perusal of the pages will show that anciently the sermon differed considerably from, and was far more ceremonious than, the present Khutbah. [FN#10] The words were �Peace be upon ye! and the Mercy of Allah and His Blessings!� [p.227] CHAPTER XXXII. LIFE AT MECCAH, AND UMRAH, OR THE LITTLE PILGRIMAGE. MY few remaining days at Meccah sped pleasantly enough. Omar Effendi visited me regularly, and arranged to accompany me furtively to Cairo. I had already consulted Mohammed Shiklibha�who suddenly appeared at Muna, having dropped down from Suez to Jeddah, and having reached Meccah in time for pilgrimage�about the possibility of proceeding Eastward. The honest fellow�s eyebrows rose till they almost touched his turband, and he exclaimed in a roaring voice, �Wallah! Effendi! thou art surely mad.� Every day he brought me news of the different Caravans. The Badawin of Al-Hijaz were, he said, in a ferment caused by the reports of the Holy War, want of money, and rumours of quarrels between the Sharif and the Pasha: already they spoke of an attack upon Jeddah. Shaykh Mas�ud, the camel man, from whom I parted on the best of terms, seriously advised my remaining at Meccah for some months even before proceeding to Sana�a. Others gave the same counsel. Briefly I saw that my star was not then in the ascendant, and resolved to reserve myself for a more propitious conjuncture by returning to Egypt. The Turkish colonel and I had become as friendly as two men ignoring each other�s speech could be. He had derived benefit from some prescription; but, like all his countrymen, he was pining to leave Meccah.[FN#1] Whilst the [p.228] pilgrimage lasted, said they, no mal de pays came to trouble them; but, its excitement over, they could think of nothing but their wives and children. Long-drawn faces and continual sighs evidenced nostalgia. At last the house became a scene of preparation. Blue chinaware and basketed bottles of Zemzem water appeared standing in solid columns, and pilgrims occupied themselves in hunting for mementoes of Meccah; ground-plans; combs, balm, henna, tooth-sticks; aloes-wood, turquoises, coral, and mother-o�-pearl rosaries; shreds of Kiswah-cloth and fine Abas, or cloaks of camels�-wool. It was not safe to mount the stairs without shouting �Tarik� (Out of the way!) at every step, on peril of meeting face to face some excited fair.[FN#2] The lower floor was crowded with provision-vendors; and the staple article of conversation seemed to be the chance of a steamer from Jeddah to Suez. Weary of the wrangling and chaffering of the hall below, I had persuaded my kind hostess, in spite of the surly skeleton her brother, partially to clear out a small store-room in the first floor, and to abandon it to me between the hours of ten and four. During the heat of the day clothing is unendurable at Meccah. The city is so �compacted together� by hills, that even the Samum can scarcely sweep it; the heat reverberated by the bare rocks is intense, and the normal atmosphere of an Eastern town communicates a faint lassitude to the body and irritability to the mind. The houses being unusually strong and well-built, might by some art of thermantidote be rendered cool enough in the hottest weather: [p.229] they are now ovens.[FN#3] It was my habit to retire immediately after the late breakfast to the little room upstairs, to sprinkle it with water, and to lie down on a mat. In the few precious moments of privacy notes were committed to paper, but one eye was ever fixed on the door. Sometimes a patient would interrupt me, but a doctor is far less popular in Al-Hijaz than in Egypt. The people, being more healthy, have less faith in physic: Shaykh Mas�ud and his son had never tasted in their lives aught more medicinal than green dates and camel�s milk. Occasionally the black slave-girls came into the room, asking if the pilgrim wanted a pipe or a cup of coffee: they generally retired in a state of delight, attempting vainly to conceal with a corner of tattered veil a grand display of ivory consequent upon some small and innocent facetiousness. The most frequent of my visitors was Abdullah, the Kabirah�s eldest son. This melancholy Jacques had joined our caravan at Al-Hamra, on the [p.230] Yambu� road, accompanied us to Al-Madinah, lived there, and journeyed to Meccah with the Syrian pilgrimage; yet he had not once come to visit me or to see his brother, the boy Mohammed. When gently reproached for this omission, he declared it to be his way�that he never called upon strangers until sent for. He was a perfect Saudawi (melancholist) in mind, manners, and personal appearance, and this class of humanity in the East is almost as uncomfortable to the household as the idiot of Europe. I was frequently obliged to share my meals with him, as his mother�though most filially and reverentially entreated�would not supply him with breakfast two hours after the proper time, or with a dinner served up forty minutes before the rest of the household. Often, too, I had to curb, by polite deprecation, the impetuosity of the fiery old Kabirah�s tongue. Thus Abdullah and I became friends, after a fashion. He purchased several little articles required, and never failed to pass hours in my closet, giving me much information about the country; deploring the laxity of Meccan morals, and lamenting that in these evil days his countrymen had forfeited their name at Cairo and at Constantinople. His curiosity about the English in India was great, and I satisfied it by praising, as a Moslem would, their politike, their evenhanded justice, and their good star. Then he would inquire into the truth of a fable extensively known on the shores of the Mediterranean and of the Red Sea. The English, it is said, sent a mission to Mohammed, inquiring into his doctrines, and begging that the heroic Khalid bin Walid[FN#4] might be sent to proselytise them. Unfortunately, [p.231] the envoys arrived too late�the Prophet�s soul had winged its way to Paradise. An abstract of the Moslem scheme was, however, sent to the �Ingreez,� who declined, as the Founder of the New Faith was no more, to abandon their own religion; but the refusal was accompanied with expressions of regard. For this reason many Moslems in Barbary and other countries hold the English to be of all �People of the Books� the best inclined towards them. As regards the Prophet�s tradition concerning the fall of his birthplace, �and the thin-calved from the Habash (Abyssinians) shall destroy the Ka�abah,� I was informed that towards the end of time a host will pass from Africa in such multitudes that a stone shall be conveyed from hand to hand between Jeddah and Meccah. This latter condition might easily be accomplished by sixty thousand men, the distance being only forty-four miles, but the citizens consider it to express a countless horde. Some pious Moslems have hoped that in Abdullah bin Zubayr�s re-erection of the Ka�abah the prophecy was fulfilled[FN#5]: the popular belief, however, remains that the fatal event is still in the womb of time. In a previous part of this volume I have alluded to similar evil presentiments which haunt the mind of Al-Islam; and the Christian, zealous for the propagation of his faith, may see in them an earnest of its still wider diffusion in future ages. [FN#6] Late in the afternoon I used to rise, perform ablution, and repair to the Harim, or wander about the bazars till sunset. After this it was necessary to return home and prepare for supper�dinner it would be called in the West. [p.232] The meal concluded, I used to sit for a time outside the street-door in great dignity, upon a broken-backed black-wood chair, traditionally said to have been left in the house by one of the princes of Delhi, smoking a Shishah, and drinking sundry cups of strong green tea with a slice of lime, a fair substitute for milk. At this hour the seat was as in a theatre, but the words of the actors were of a nature somewhat too Fescennine for a respectable public. After nightfall we either returned to the Harim or retired to rest. Our common dormitory was the flat roof of the house; under each cot stood a water-gugglet; and all slept, as must be done in the torrid lands, on and not in bed. I sojourned at Meccah but a short time, and, as usual with travellers, did not see the best specimens of the population. The citizens appeared to me more civilised and more vicious than those of Al-Madinah. They often leave �Home, where small experience grows,� and�qui multum peregrinatur, raro sanctificatur�become a worldly-wise, God-forgetting, and Mammonish sort of folk. Tuf w� asaa, w� aamil al-saba��Circumambulate and run (i.e. between Safa and Marwah) and commit the Seven (deadly sins)��is a satire popularly levelled against them. Hence, too, the proverb Al-haram f� il Haramayn��Evil (dwelleth) in the two Holy Cities�; and no wonder, since plenary indulgence is so easily secured.[FN#7] The pilgrim is forbidden, or rather dissuaded, from abiding at Meccah after the rites, and wisely. Great emotions must be followed by a re-action. And he who stands struck by the first aspect of Allah�s house, after a few months, the marvel waxing stale, sweeps past with indifference or something worse. [p.233] There is, however, little at Meccah to offend the eye. As among certain nations further West, a layer of ashes overspreads the fire: the mine is concealed by a green turf fair to look upon. It is only when wandering by starlight through the northern outskirts of the town that citizens may be seen with light complexions and delicate limbs, coarse turbands, and Egyptian woollen robes, speaking disguise and the purpose of disguise. No one within the memory of man has suffered the penalty of immorality. Spirituous liquors are no longer sold, as in Burckhardt�s day,[FN#8] in shops; and some Arnaut officers assured me that they found considerable difficulty in smuggling flasks of Araki from Jeddah. The Meccan is a darker man than the Madinite. The people explain this by the heat of the climate. I rather believe it to be caused by the number of female slaves that find their way into the market. Gallas, Sawahilis, a few Somalis, and Abyssinians are embarked at Suakin, Zayla, Tajurrah, and Berberah, carried in thousands to Jeddah, and the Holy City has the pick of every batch. Thence the stream sets Northwards, a small current towards Al-Madinah, and the main line to Egypt and Turkey.[FN#9] Most Meccans have black concubines, and, as has been said, the appearance of the Sharif is almost that of a negro. I did not see one handsome man in the Holy City, although some of the women appeared to me beautiful. The male profile is high and bony, the forehead recedes, and the head rises unpleasantly towards the region of firmness. In most families male children, when forty days old, are taken to the Ka�abah, prayed over, and carried home, where the barber draws with a razor three parallel gashes [p.234] down the fleshy portion of each cheek, from the exterior angles of the eyes almost to the corners of the mouth. These Mashali, as they are called,[FN#10] may be of modern date: the citizens declare that the custom was unknown to their ancestors. I am tempted to assign to it a high antiquity, and cannot but attribute a pagan origin to a custom still prevailing, despite all the interdictions of the Olema. In point of figure the Meccan is somewhat coarse and lymphatic. The ludicrous leanness of the outward man, as described by Ali Bey, survives only in the remnants of themselves belonging to a bygone century. The young men are rather stout and athletic, but in middle age�when man �swills and swells��they are apt to degenerate into corpulence. The Meccan is a covetous spendthrift. His wealth, lightly won, is lightly prized. Pay, pension, stipends, presents, and the Ikram, here, as at Al-Madinah, supply the citizen with the means of idleness. With him everything is on the most expensive scale, his marriage, his religious ceremonies, and his household expenses. His [p.235] house is luxuriously furnished; entertainments are frequent, and the junketings of his women make up a heavy bill at the end of the year. It is a common practice for the citizen to anticipate the pilgrimage season by falling into the hands of the usurer. If he be in luck, he catches and �skins� one or more of the richest Hajis. On the other hand, should fortune fail him, he will feel for life the effect of interest running on at the rate of at least fifty per cent., the simple and the compound forms of which are equally familiar to the wily Sarraf.[FN#11] The most unpleasant peculiarities of the Meccan[s][FN#12] are their pride and coarseness of language. Looking upon themselves as the cream of earth�s sons, they resent with extreme asperity the least slighting word concerning the Holy City and its denizens. They plume themselves upon their holy descent, their exclusion of Infidels,[FN#13] their strict fastings, their learned men, and their purity of language.[FN#14] In fact, their pride shows itself at every moment; [p.236] but it is not the pride which makes a man too proud to do �dirty work.� My predecessor did not remark their scurrility: he seems, on the contrary, rather to commend them for respectability in this point. If he be correct, the present generation has degenerated. The Meccans appeared to me distinguished, even in this foul-mouthed East, by the superior licentiousness of their language. Abuse was bad enough in the streets, but in the house it became intolerable. The Turkish pilgrims remarked, but they were too proud to notice it. The boy Mohammed and one of his tall cousins at last transgressed the limits of my endurance. They had been reviling each other vilely one day at the house-door about dawn, when I administered the most open reprimand: �In my country (Afghanistan) we hold this to be the hour of prayer, the season of good thoughts, when men remember Allah; even the Kafir doth not begin the day with curses and abuse.� The people around approved, and the offenders could not refrain from saying, �Thou hast spoken truth, O Effendi!� Then the bystanders began, as usual, to �improve the occasion.� �See,� they exclaimed, �this Sulaymani gentleman, he is not the Son of a Holy City, and yet he teacheth you�ye, the children of the Prophet!�repent and fear Allah!� They replied, �Verily we do repent, and Allah is a Pardoner and the Merciful!��were silent for an hour, and then abused each other more foully than before. Yet it is a good point in the Meccan character, that it is open to reason, it can confess itself [p.237] in error, and it displays none of that doggedness of vice which distinguishes the sinner of a more stolid race. Like the people of Southern Europe, the Semite is easily managed by a jest: though grave and thoughtful, he is by no means deficient in the sly wit which we call humour, and the solemn gravity of his words contrasts amusingly with his ideas. He particularly excels in the Cervantic art, the spirit of which, says Sterne, is to clothe low subjects in sublime language. In Mohammed�s life we find that he by no means disdained a joke, sometimes a little hasarde, as in the case of the Paradise-coveting old woman. The redeeming qualities of the Meccan are his courage, his bonhommie, his manly suavity of manners, his fiery sense of honour, his strong family affections, his near approach to what we call patriotism, and his general knowledge: the reproach of extreme ignorance which Burckhardt directs against the Holy City has long ago sped to the Limbo of things that were. The dark half of the picture is formed by pride, bigotry, irreligion, greed of gain, immorality, and prodigal ostentation. Of the pilgrimage ceremonies I cannot speak harshly. It may be true that �the rites of the Ka�abah, emasculated of every idolatrous tendency, still hang a strange unmeaning shroud around the living theism of Islam.� But what nation, either in the West or in the East, has been able to cast out from its ceremonies every suspicion of its old idolatry? What are the English mistletoe, the Irish wake, the Pardon of Brittany, the Carnival, and the Worship at Iserna? Better far to consider the Meccan pilgrimage rites in the light of Evil-worship turned into lessons of Good than to philosophize about their strangeness, and to blunder in asserting them to be insignificant. Even the Badawi circumambulating the Ka�abah fortifies his wild belief by the fond thought that he treads the path of �Allah�s friend.� At Arafat the good Moslem worships in imitation of [p.238] the �Pure of Allah[FN#15]�; and when hurling stones and curses at three senseless little buttresses which commemorate the appearance of the fiend, the materialism of the action gives to its sentiment all the strength and endurance of reality. The supernatural agencies of pilgrimage are carefully and sparingly distributed. The angels who restore the stones from Muna to Muzdalifah; the heavenly host whose pinions cause the Ka�abah�s veil to rise and to wave, and the mysterious complement of the pilgrim�s total at the Arafat sermon, all belong to the category of spiritual creatures walking earth unseen,�a poetical tenet, not condemned by Christianity. The Meccans are, it is true, to be reproached with their open Mammon-worship, at times and at places the most sacred and venerable; but this has no other effect upon the pilgrims than to excite disgust and open reprehension. Here, however, we see no such silly frauds as heavenly fire drawn from a phosphor-match; nor do two rival churches fight in the flesh with teeth and nails, requiring the contemptuous interference of an infidel power to keep around order. Here we see no fair dames staring with their glasses, braques at the Head of the Church; or supporting exhausted nature with the furtive sandwich; or carrying pampered curs who, too often, will not be silent; or scrambling and squeezing to hear theatrical music, reckless of the fate of the old lady who�on such occasions there is always one�has been �thrown down and cruelly trampled upon by the crowd.� If the Meccan citizens are disposed to scoff at the wild Takruri, they do it not so publicly or shamelessly as the Roman jeering with ribald jest at the fanaticism of strangers from the bogs of Ireland. Finally, at Meccah there is nothing theatrical, nothing that suggests the opera; but all is simple and impressive, filling the mind with �A weight of awe not easy to be borne,� and tending, I believe, after its fashion, to good. [p.239] As regards the Meccan and Moslem belief that Abraham and his son built the Ka�abah, it may be observed the Genesitic account of the Great Patriarch has suggested to learned men the idea of two Abrahams, one the son of Terah, another the son of Azar (fire), a Prometheus who imported civilisation and knowledge into Arabia from Harran, the sacred centre of Sabaean learning.[FN#16] Moslem historians all agree in representing Abraham as a star-worshipper in youth, and Eusebius calls the patriarch son of Athar; his father�s name, therefore, is no Arab invention. Whether Ishmael or his sire ever visited Meccah to build the Ka�abah is, in my humble opinion, an open question. The Jewish Scripture informs us only that the patriarch dwelt at Beersheba and Gerar, in the south-west of Palestine, without any allusion to the annual visit which Moslems declare he paid to their Holy City. At the same time Arab tradition speaks clearly and consistently upon the subject, and generally omits those miraculous and superstitious adjuncts which cast shadows of sore doubt upon the philosophic mind. The amount of risk which a stranger must encounter at the pilgrimage rites is still considerable. A learned Orientalist and divine intimated his intention, in a work [p.240] published but a few years ago, of visiting Meccah without disguise. He was assured that the Turkish governor would now offer no obstacle to a European traveller. I would strongly dissuade a friend from making the attempt. It is true that the Frank is no longer, as in Captain Head�s day,[FN#17] insulted when he ventures out of the Meccan Gate of Jeddah; and that our Vice-Consuls and travellers are allowed, on condition that their glance do not pollute the shrine, to visit Taif and the regions lying Eastward of the Holy City. Neither the Pasha nor the Sharif would, in these days, dare to enforce, in the case of an Englishman, the old law, a choice thrice offered between circumcision and death. But the first Badawi who caught sight of the Frank�s hat would not deem himself a man if he did not drive a bullet through the wearer�s head. At the pilgrimage season disguise is easy on account of the vast and varied multitudes which visit Meccah exposing the traveller only to �stand the buffet with knaves who smell of sweat.� But woe to the unfortunate who happens to be recognised in public as an Infidel�unless at least he could throw himself at once upon the protection of the government.[FN#18] Amidst, however, a crowd of pilgrims, whose fanaticism is worked up to the highest pitch, detection would probably ensure his dismissal at once al numero de� piu. Those who find danger the salt of pleasure may visit Meccah; but if asked whether the results justify the risk, I should reply in the negative. And the Vice-Consul at Jeddah would only do his duty in peremptorily forbidding European travellers to attempt Meccah without disguise, until the day comes when such steps can be taken in the certainty of not causing a mishap; [p.241] an accident would not redound to our reputation, as we could not in justice revenge it.[FN#19] On the 14th Zu�l Hijjah we started to perform the rite of Umrah, or Little Pilgrimage. After performing ablution, and resuming the Ihram with the usual ceremonies, I set out, accompanied by the boy Mohammed and his brother Abdullah. Mounting asses which resembled mules in size and speed,[FN#20] we rode to the Harim, and prayed there. Again remounting, we issued through the Bab al-Safa towards the open country north-east of the city. The way was crowded with pilgrims, on foot as well as mounted, and their loud Labbayk distinguished those engaged in the Umrah rite from the many whose business was with the camp of the Damascus Caravan. At about half a mile from the city we passed on the left a huge heap of stones, where my companions stood and cursed. This grim-looking cairn is popularly believed to note the place of the well where Abu Lahab laid an ambuscade for the Prophet. This wicked uncle stationed there a slave, with orders to throw headlong into the pit the first person who [p.242] approached him, and privily persuaded his nephew to visit the spot at night: after a time, anxiously hoping to hear that the deed had been done, Abu Lahab incautiously drew nigh, and was precipitated by his own bravo into the place of destruction.[FN#21] Hence the well-known saying in Islam, �Whoso diggeth a well for his brother shall fall into it himself.� We added our quota of stones,[FN#22] and proceeding, saw the Jeddah road spanning the plain like a white ribbon. In front of us the highway was now lined with coffee-tents, before which effeminate dancing-boys performed to admiring Syrians; a small whitewashed �Bungalow,� the palace of the Emir al-Hajj, lay on the left, and all around it clustered the motley encampment of his pilgrims. After cantering about three miles from the city, we reached the Alamayn, or two pillars that limit the Sanctuary; and a little beyond it is the small settlement popularly called Al-Umrah.[FN#23] Dismounting here, we [p.243] sat down on rugs outside a coffee-tent to enjoy the beauty of the moonlit night, and an hour of Kayf, in the sweet air of the Desert. Presently the coffee-tent keeper, after receiving payment, brought us water for ablution. This preamble over, we entered the principal chapel; an unpretending building, badly lighted, spread with dirty rugs, full of pilgrims, and offensively close. Here we prayed the Isha, or night devotions, and then a two-bow prayer in honour of the Ihram,[FN#24] after which we distributed gratuities to the guardians, and alms to the importunate beggars. And now I perceived the object of Abdullah�s companionship. The melancholy man assured me that he had ridden out for love of me, and in order to perform as Wakil (substitute) a vicarious pilgrimage for my parents. Vainly I assured him that they had been strict in the exercises of their faith. He would take no denial, and I perceived that love of me meant love of my dollars. With a surly assent, he was at last permitted to act for the �pious pilgrim Yusuf (Joseph) bin Ahmad and Fatimah bint Yunus,��my progenitors. It was impossible to prevent smiling at contrasts, as Abdullah, gravely raising his hands, and directing his face to the Ka�abah, intoned, �I do vow this Ihram of Umrah in the name of Yusuf Son of Ahmad, and Fatimah Daughter of Yunus; then render it attainable unto them, and accept it of them! Bismillah! Allaho Akbar!� [p.244] Remounting, we galloped towards Meccah, shouting Labbayk, and halting at every half-mile to smoke and drink coffee. In a short time we entered the city, and repairing to the Harim by the Safa Gate, performed the Tawaf, or circumambulation of Umrah. After this dull round and necessary repose we left the temple by the same exit, and mounting once more, turned towards Al-Safa, which stands about a hundred yards South-East of the Mosque, and as little deserves its name of �Mountain� as do those that undulate the face of modern Rome. The Safa end is closed by a mean-looking building, composed of three round arches, with a dwarf flight of stairs leading up to them out of a narrow road. Without dismounting, we wheeled our donkeys[FN#25] round, �left shoulders forward,� no easy task in the crowd, and, vainly striving to sight the Ka�abah through the Bab al-Safa, performed the Niyat, or vow of the rite Al-Sai, or the running.[FN#26] After Tahlil, Takbir, and Talbiyat, we raised our hands in the supplicatory position, and twice repeated,[FN#27] �There is no god but Allah, Alone, without Partner; His is the Kingdom, unto Him be Praise; He giveth Life and Death, He is alive and perisheth not; in His Hand is Good, and He over all Things is Omnipotent.� Then, with the donkey-boys leading our animals and a stout fellow preceding us with lantern and a quarter-staff to keep off the running Badawin, camel-men, and riders of asses, we descended Safa, and walked slowly down the street Al-Massa, towards Marwah.[FN#28] [p.245] During our descent we recited aloud, �O Allah, cause me to act according to the Sunnat of Thy Prophet, and to die in His faith, and defend me from errors and disobedience by Thy Mercy, O most Merciful of the Merciful!� Arrived at what is called the Batn al-Wady (Belly of the Vale), a place now denoted by the Milayn al-Akhzarayn (the two green pillars[FN#29]), one fixed in the Eastern course of the Harim, the other in a house on the right side,[FN#30] we began the running by urging on our beasts. Here the prayer was, �O Lord, pardon and pity, and pass over what Thou knowest, for Thou art the most dear and the most generous! Save us from Hell-fire safely, and cause us safely to enter Paradise! O Lord, give us Happiness here and Happiness hereafter, and spare us the Torture of the Flames!� At the end of this supplication we had passed the Batn, or lowest ground, whose farthest limits were marked by two other pillars.[FN#31] Again we began to ascend, repeating, as we went, �Verily, Safa and Marwah are two of the Monuments of Allah. Whoso, therefore, pilgrimeth to the Temple of Meccah, or performeth Umrah, it shall be no Crime in him (to run between them both). And as for him who voluntarily doeth a good Deed, verily Allah is Grateful and Omniscient[FN#32]!� At length we reached Marwah, a little rise like Safa in the lower slope of Abu Kubays. The houses cluster in amphitheatre shape above it, and from the Masa�a, or street below, a short flight of steps to a platform, bounded on three sides like a tennis-court, by tall walls without arches. The [p.246] street, seen from above, has a bowstring curve: it is between eight and nine hundred feet long,[FN#33] with high houses on both sides, and small lanes branching off from it. At the foot of the platform we brought �right shoulders forward,� so as to face the Ka�abah, and raising hands to ears, thrice exclaimed, �Allaho Akbar.� This concluded the first course, and, of these, seven compose the ceremony Al-Sai, or the running. There was a startling contrast with the origin of this ceremony,� �When the poor outcast on the cheerless wild, Arabia�s parent, clasped her fainting child,�� as the Turkish infantry marched, in European dress, with sloped arms, down the Masa�a to relieve guard. By the side of the half-naked, running Badawin, they look as if Epochs, disconnected by long centuries, had met. A laxity, too, there was in the frequent appearance of dogs upon this holy and most memorial ground, which said little in favour of the religious strictness of the administration.[FN#34] Our Sai ended at Mount Marwah. There we dismounted, and sat outside a barber�s shop, on the right-hand of the street. He operated upon our heads, causing us to repeat, �O Allah, this my Forelock is in Thy Hand, then grant me for every Hair a light on the Resurrection-day, O Most Merciful of the Merciful!� This, and the paying for it, constituted the fourth portion of the Umrah, or Little Pilgrimage. Throwing the skirts of our garments over our heads, to show that our �Ihram� was now exchanged for the normal state, �Ihlal,� we cantered to the Harim, prayed there a two-bow prayer, and returned home not a little fatigued. [FN#1] Not more than one-quarter of the pilgrims who appear at Arafat go on to Al-Madinah: the expense, the hardships, and the dangers of the journey account for the smallness of the number. In theology it is �Jaiz,� or admissible, to begin with the Prophet�s place of burial. But those performing the �Hajjat al-Islam� are enjoined to commence at Meccah. [FN#2] When respectable married men live together in the same house, a rare occurrence, except on journeys, this most ungallant practice of clearing the way is and must be kept up in the East. [FN#3] I offer no lengthened description of the town of Meccah: Ali Bey and Burckhardt have already said all that requires saying. Although the origin of the Bayt Ullah be lost in the glooms of past time, the city is a comparatively modern place, built about A.D. 450, by Kusay and the Kuraysh. It contains about 30,000 to 45,000 inhabitants, with lodging room for at least treble that number; and the material of the houses is brick, granite, and sandstone from the neighbouring hills. The site is a winding valley, on a small plateau, half-way �below the Ghauts.� Its utmost length is two miles and a half from the Mab�dah (North) to the Southern mount Jiyad; and three-quarters of a mile would be the extreme breadth between Abu Kubays Eastward,�upon whose Western slope the most solid mass of the town clusters,�and Jabal Hindi Westward of the city. In the centre of this line stands the Ka�abah. I regret being unable to offer the reader a sketch of Meccah, or of the Great Temple. The stranger who would do this should visit the city out of the pilgrimage season, and hire a room looking into the quadrangle of the Harim. This addition to our knowledge is the more required, as our popular sketches (generally taken from D�Ohsson) are utterly incorrect. The Ka�abah is always a recognisable building; but the �View of Meccah� known to Europe is not more like Meccah than like Cairo or Bombay. [FN#4] It is curious that the Afghans should claim this Kuraysh noble as their compatriot. �On one occasion, when Khalid bin Walid was saying something in his native tongue (the Pushtu or Afghani), Mohammed remarked that assuredly that language was the peculiar dialect of the damned. As Khalid appeared to suffer from the observation, and to betray certain symptoms of insubordination, the Prophet condescended to comfort him by graciously pronouncing the words �Ghashe linda raora,� i.e., bring me my bow and arrows. (Remarks on Dr. Dorn�s Chrestomathy of the Pushtu or Afghan Language. Trans. Bombay As. Society, 1848.) [FN#5] See the ninth building of the Ka�abah, described in chap. iv. [FN#6] It requires not the ken of a prophet to foresee the day when political necessity�sternest of [Greek]!�will compel us to occupy in force the fountain-head of Al-Islam. [FN#7] Good acts done at Meccah are rewarded a hundred-thousand-fold in heaven; yet it is not auspicious to dwell there. Omar informs us that an evil deed receives the punishment of seventy. [FN#8] It must be remembered that my predecessor visited Meccah when the Egyptian army, commanded by Mohammed Ali, held the town. [FN#9] In another place I have ventured a few observations concerning the easy suppression of this traffic. [FN#10] The act is called �Tashrit,� or gashing. The body is also marked, but with smaller cuts, so that the child is covered with blood. Ali Bey was told by some Meccans that the face-gashes served for the purpose of phlebotomy, by others that they were signs that the scarred was the servant of Allah�s house. He attributes this male-gashing, like female-tat[t]ooing, to coquetry. The citizens told me that the custom arose from the necessity of preserving children from the kidnapping Persians, and that it is preserved as a mark of the Holy City. But its wide diffusion denotes an earlier origin. Mohammed expressly forbad his followers to mark the skin with scars. These �beauty marks� are common to the nations in the regions to the West of the Red Sea. The Barabarah of Upper Egypt adorn their faces with scars exactly like the Meccans. The Abyssinians moxa themselves in hetacombs for fashion�s sake. I have seen cheeks gashed, as in the Holy City, among the Gallas. Certain races of the Sawahil trace around the head a corona of little cuts, like those of a cupping instrument. And, to quote no other instances, some Somalis raise ghastly seams upon their chocolate-coloured skins. [FN#11] Sayrafi, money-changer; Sarraf, banker; the Indian �Shroff,� banker, money-changer, and usurer. [FN#12] When speaking of the Meccans I allude only to the section of society which fell under my observation, and that more extensive division concerning which I obtained notices that could be depended upon. [FN#13] The editor of Burckhardt�s �Travels in Arabia� supposes that his author�s �sect of light extinguishers� were probably Parsees from Surat or Bombay. The mistake is truly ludicrous, for no pious Parsee will extinguish a light. Moreover, infidels are not allowed by law to pass the frontiers of the Sanctuary. The sect alluded to is an obscure heresy in Central Asia; and concerning it the most improbable scandals have been propagated by the orthodox. [FN#14] It is strange how travellers and linguists differ upon the subject of Arabic and its dialects. Niebuhr compares their relation to that of Provençal, Spanish, and Italian, whereas Lane declares the dialects to resemble each other more than those of some different counties in England. Herbin (Grammar) draws a broad line between ancient and modern Arabic; but Hochst (Nachrichten von Marokos und Fez) asserts that the difference is not so great as is imagined. Perhaps the soundest opinion is that proposed by Clodius, in his �Arabic Grammar�: �dialectus Arabum vulgaris tantum differt ab erudita, quantum Isocrates dictio ab hodierna lingua Græca.� But it must be remembered that the Arabs divide their spoken and even written language into two orders, the �Kalam Wati,� or vulgar tongue, sometimes employed in epistolary correspondence, and the �Nahwi,� or grammatical and classical language. Every man of education uses the former, and can use the latter. And the Koran is no more a model of Arabic (as it is often assumed to be) than �Paradise Lost� is of English. Inimitable, no man imitates them. [FN#15] Safi Ullah�Adam. [FN#16] The legend that Abraham was the �Son of Fire� might have arisen from his birthplace, Ur of the Chaldees. This Ur (whence the Latin uro) becomes in Persian Hir; in Arabic Irr or Arr. It explains the origin of �Orotalt� better than by means of �Allahu Ta�ala.� This word, variously spelt Ourotalt, Orotalt, and Orotal (the latter would be the masculine form in Arabic), is Urrat-ilat, or the goddess of fire, most probably the Sun (Al-Shams) which the Semites make a feminine. Forbiggen translates it Sonnen-gott, an error of gender, as the final consonant proves. The other deity of pagan Arabia, Alilat, is clearly Al-Lat. May not the Phoenicians have supplied the word �Irr,� which still survives in Erin and in Ireland? even so they gave to the world the name of Britain, Brettainke, Barrat et Tanuki ([Arabic lettering]), the land of tin. And I should more readily believe that Eeran is the land of fire, than accept its derivation from Eer (vir) a man. [FN#17] Captain C. F. Head, author of �Eastern and Egyptian Scenery,� was, as late as A.D. 1829, pelted by the Badawin, because he passed the Eastern gate of Jeddah in a Frankish dress. [FN#18] The best way would be to rush, if possible, into a house; and the owner would then, for his own interest, as well as honour, defend a stranger till assistance could be procured. [FN#19] Future pilgrims must also remember that the season is gradually receding towards the heart of the hot weather. For the next fifteen years, therefore, an additional risk will attend the traveller. [FN#20] Pliny is certainly right about this useful quadruped and its congeners, the zebra and the wild ass, in describing it as �animal frigoris maxime impatiens.� It degenerates in cold regions, unless, as in Afghanistan and Barbary, there be a long, hot, and dry summer. Aden, Cutch, and Baghdad have fine breeds, whereas those of India and South-Eastern Africa are poor and weak. The best and the highest-priced come from the Maghrib, and second to them ranks the Egyptian race. At Meccah careful feeding and kind usage transform the dull slave into an active and symmetrical friend of man: he knows his owner�s kind voice, and if one of the two fast, it is generally the biped. The asses of the Holy City are tall and plump, with sleek coats, generally ash or grey-coloured, the eyes of deer, heads gracefully carried, an ambling gait, and extremely sure-footed. They are equal to great fatigue, and the stallions have been known, in their ferocity, to kill the groom. The price varies from 25 to 150 dollars. [FN#21] Such is the popular version of the tale, which differs in some points from that recorded in books. Others declare that here, in days gone by, stood the house of another notorious malignant, Abu Jahl. Some, again, suppose that in this place a tyrannical governor of Meccah was summarily �lynched� by the indignant populace. The first two traditions, however, are the favourites, the vulgar�citizens, as well as pilgrims�loving to connect such places with the events of their early sacred history. Even in the twelfth century we read that pilgrims used to cast stones at two cairns, covering the remains of Abu Lahab, and the beautiful termagant, his wife. [FN#22] Certain credulous authors have contrasted these heaps with the clear ground at Muna, for the purpose of a minor miracle. According to them this cairn steadily grows, as we may believe it would; and that, were it not for the guardian angels, the millions of little stones annually thrown at the devils would soon form a mass of equal magnitude. This custom of lapidation, in token of hate, is an ancient practice, still common in the East. Yet, in some parts of Arabia, stones are thrown at tombs as a compliment to the tenant. And in the Somali country, the places where it is said holy men sat, receive the same doubtful homage. [FN#23] It is called in books Al-Tanim (bestowing plenty); a word which readers must not confound with the district of the same name in the province Khaulan (made by Niebuhr the �Thumna,� �Thomna,� or �Tamna,� capital of the Catabanites). Other authors apply Al-Tanim to the spot where Abu Lahab is supposed to lie. There are two places called Al-Umrah near Meccah. The Kabir, or greater, is, I am told, in the Wady Fatimah, and the Prophet ordered Ayishah and her sister to begin the ceremonies at that place. It is now visited by picnic parties and those who would pray at the tomb of Maimunah, one of the Prophet�s wives. Modern pilgrims commence always, I am told, at the Umrah Saghir (the Lesser), which is about half-way nearer the city. [FN#24] Some assume the Ihram garb at this place. [FN#25] We had still the pretext of my injured foot. When the Sai rite is performed, as it should be, by a pedestrian, he mounts the steps to about the height of a man, and then turns towards the temple. [FN#26] I will not trouble the reader with this Niyat, which is the same as that used in the Tawaf rite. [FN#27] Almost every Mutawwif, it must be remembered, has his own set of prayers. [FN#28] �Safa� means a large, hard rock; �Marwah,� hard, white flints, full of fire. [FN#29] In former times a devastating torrent used to sweep this place after rains. The Fiumara bed has now disappeared, and the pillars are used as landmarks. Galland observes that these columns are planted upon the place which supported Eve�s knees, when, after 300 years� separation, she was found by Adam. [FN#30] This house is called in books Rubat al-Abbas. [FN#31] Here once stood �As�af� and �Naylah,� two idols, some say a man and a woman metamorphosed for stupration in the Temple. [FN#32] Koran, chap. ii. [FN#33] Ibn Jubayr gives 893 steps: other authorities make the distance 780 short cubits, the size of an average man�s forearm. [FN#34] The ceremony of running between Safa and Marwah is supposed to represent Hagar seeking water for her son. Usually pilgrims perform this rite on the morning of visiting the Ka�aba. [p.247] CHAPTER XXXIII. PLACES OF PIOUS VISITATION AT MECCAH. THE traveller has little work at the Holy City. With exceptions of Jabal Nur and Jabal Saur,[FN#1] all the places of pious visitation lie inside or close outside the city. It is well worth the while to ascend Abu Kubays; not so much to inspect the Makan al-Hajar and the Shakk al-Kamar,[FN#2] as to obtain an excellent bird�s-eye view of the Harim and the parts adjacent.[FN#3] The boy Mohammed had applied himself sedulously to commerce after his return home; and had actually been seen by Shaykh Nur sitting in a shop and selling small curiosities. With my plenary consent I was made [p.248] over to Abdullah, his brother. On the morning of the 15th Zu�l Hijjah (19th Sept.) he hired two asses, and accompanied me as guide to the holy places. Mounting our animals, we followed the road before described to the Jannat al-Ma�ala, the sacred cemetery of Meccah. A rough wall, with a poor gateway, encloses a patch of barren and grim-looking ground, at the foot of the chain which bounds the city�s western suburb, and below Al-Akabah, the gap through which Khalid bin Walid entered Meccah with the triumphant Prophet.[FN#4] Inside are a few ignoble, whitewashed domes: all are of modern construction, for here, as at Al-Bakia, further north, the Wahhabis indulged their levelling propensities.[FN#5] The rest of the ground shows some small enclosures belonging to particular houses,�equivalent to our family vaults,�and the ruins of humble tombs, lying in confusion, whilst a few parched aloes spring from between the bricks and stones.[FN#6] [p.249] The cemetery is celebrated in local history: here the body of Abdullah bin Zubayr was exposed by order of Hajjaj bin Yusuf; and the number of saints buried in it has been so numerous, that even in the twelfth century many had fallen into oblivion. It is visited by the citizens on Fridays, and by women on Thursdays, to prevent that meeting of sexes which in the East is so detrimental to public decorum. I shall be sparing in my description of the Ma�ala ceremonies, as the prayers, prostrations, and supplications are almost identical with those performed at Al-Bakia. After a long supplication, pronounced standing at the doorway, we entered, and sauntered about the burial-ground. On the left of the road stood an enclosure, which, according to Abdullah, belonged to his family. The door and stone slabs, being valuable to the poor, had been removed, and the graves of his forefathers appeared to have been invaded by the jackal. He sighed, recited a Fatihah with tears in his eyes, and hurried me away from the spot. The first dome which we visited covered the remains of Abd al-Rahman, the son of Abu Bakr, one of the Worthies of Al-Islam, equally respected by Sunni and by Shi�ah. The tomb was a simple catafalque, spread with the usual cloth. After performing our devotions at this grave, and distributing a few piastres to guardians and beggars, we crossed the main path, and found ourselves at the door of the cupola, beneath which sleeps the venerable Khadijah, Mohammed�s first wife. The tomb was covered with a green cloth, and the walls of the little building were decorated with written specimens of religious poetry. A little beyond it, we were shown into another dome, the resting-place of Sitt Aminah, the Prophet�s mother.[FN#7] Burckhardt chronicles its ill-usage by [p.250] the fanatic Wahhabis: it has now been rebuilt in that frugal style that characterizes the architecture of Al-Hijaz. An exceedingly garrulous old woman came to the door, invited us in, and superintended our devotions; at the end of which she sprinkled rosewater upon my face. When asked for a cool draught, she handed me a metal saucer, whose contents smelt strongly of mastic, earnestly directing me to drink it in a sitting posture. This tomb she informed us is the property of a single woman, who visits it every evening, receives the contributions of the Faithful, prays, sweeps the pavement, and dusts the furniture. We left five piastres for this respectable maiden, and gratified the officious crone with another shilling. She repaid us by signalling to some score of beggars that a rich pilgrim had entered the Ma�ala, and their importunities fairly drove me out of the hallowed walls. Leaving the Jannat al-Ma�ala, we returned towards the town, and halted on the left side of the road, at a mean building called the Masjid al-Jinn (of the Genii). Here was revealed the seventy-second chapter of the Koran, called after the name of the mysterious fire-drakes who paid fealty to the Prophet. Descending a flight of steps,�for this Mosque, like all ancient localities at Meccah, is as much below as above ground,�we entered a small apartment containing water-pots for drinking and all the appurtenances of ablution. In it is shown the Mauza al-Khatt (place of the writing), where Mohammed wrote a letter to Abu Mas�ud after the homage of the Jinnis. A second and interior flight of stone steps led to another diminutive oratory, where the Prophet used to pray and receive the archangel Gabriel. Having performed a pair of bows, which caused the perspiration [p.251 to burst forth as if in a Russian bath, I paid a few piastres, and issued from the building with much satisfaction. We had some difficulty in urging our donkeys through the crowded street, called the Zukak al-Hajar. Presently we arrived at the Bayt al-Nabi, the Prophet�s old house, in which he lived with the Sitt Khadijah. Here, says Burckhardt, the Lady Fatimah first saw the light[FN#8]; and here, according to Ibn Jubayr, Hasan and Hosayn were born. Dismounting at the entrance, we descended a deep flight of steps, and found ourselves in a spacious hall, vaulted, and of better appearance than most of the sacred edifices at Meccah. In the centre, and well railed round, stood a closet of rich green and gold stuffs, in shape not unlike an umbrella-tent. A surly porter guarded the closed door, which some respectable people vainly attempted to open by honeyed words: a whisper from Abdullah solved the difficulty. I was directed to lie at full length upon my stomach, and to kiss a black-looking stone�said to be the lower half of the Lady Fatimah�s quern[FN#9]�fixed at the bottom of a basin of the same material. Thence we repaired to a corner, and recited a two-bow at the place where the Prophet used to pray the Sunnat and the Nafilah, or supererogatory devotions.[FN#10] Again remounting, we proceeded at a leisurely pace homewards, and on the way passed through the principal [p.252] slave-market. It is a large street roofed with matting, and full of coffee-houses. The merchandise sat in rows, parallel with the walls. The prettiest girls occupied the highest benches, below were the plainer sort, and lowest of all the boys. They were all gaily dressed in pink and other light-coloured muslins, with transparent veils over their heads; and, whether from the effect of such unusual splendour, or from the re-action succeeding to their terrible land-journey and sea-voyage, they appeared perfectly happy, laughing loudly, talking unknown tongues, and quizzing purchasers, even during the delicate operation of purchasing. There were some pretty Gallas, douce-looking Abyssinians, and Africans of various degrees of hideousness, from the half-Arab Somal to the baboon-like Sawahili. The highest price of which I could hear was £60. And here I matured a resolve to strike, if favoured by fortune, a death-blow at a trade which is eating into the vitals of industry in Eastern Africa. The reflection was pleasant,�the idea that the humble Haji, contemplating the scene from his donkey, might become the instrument of the total abolition of this pernicious traffic.[FN#11] What would have become of that pilgrim had the crowd in the slave-market guessed his intentions? Passing through the large bazar, called the Suk al-Layl, I saw the palace of Mohammed bin Aun, quondam Prince of Meccah. It has a certain look of rude magnificence, [p.253] the effect of huge hanging balconies scattered in profusion over lofty walls, claire-voies of brickwork, and courses of various-coloured stone. The owner is highly popular among the Badawin, and feared by the citizens on account of his fierce looks, courage, and treachery. They described him to me as vir bonus, bene strangulando peritus; but Mr. Cole, who knew him personally, gave him a high character for generosity and freedom from fanaticism. He seems to have some idea of the state which should �hedge in� a ruler. His palaces at Meccah, and that now turned into a Wakalah at Jeddah, are the only places in the country that can be called princely. He is now a state prisoner at Constantinople, and the Badawin pray in vain for his return.[FN#12] The other places of pious visitation at Meccah are briefly these:� 1. Natak al-Nabi, a small oratory in the Zukak al-Hajar. It derives its name from the following circumstance. [p.254] As the Prophet was knocking at the door of Abu Bakr�s shop, a stone gave him God-speed, and told him that the master was not at home. The wonderful mineral is of a reddish-black colour, about a foot in dimension, and fixed in the wall somewhat higher than a man�s head. There are servants attached to it, and the street sides are spread, as usual, with the napkins of importunate beggars. 2. Maulid al-Nabi, or the Prophet�s birthplace.[FN#13] It is a little chapel in the Suk al-Layl, not far from Mohammed bin Aun�s palace. It is below the present level of the ground, and in the centre is a kind of tent, concealing, it is said, a hole in the floor upon which Aminah sat to be delivered. 3. In the quarter �Sha�ab Ali,� near the Maulid al-Nabi, is the birthplace of Ali, another oratory below the ground. Here, as in the former place, a Maulid and a Ziyarah are held on the anniversary of the Lion�s birth. 4. Near Khadijah�s house and the Natak al-Nabi is a place called Al-Muttaka, from a stone against which the Prophet leaned when worn out with fatigue. It is much visited by devotees; and some declare that on one occasion, when the Father of Lies appeared to the Prophet in the form of an elderly man, and tempted him to sin by asserting that the Mosque-prayers were over, this stone, disclosing the fraud, caused the Fiend to flee. 5. Maulid Hamzah, a little building at the old Bab Umrah, near the Shabayki cemetery. Here was the Bazan, or channel down which the Ayn Hunayn ran into the Birkat Majid. Many authorities doubt that Hamzah was born at this place.[FN#14] [p.255] The reader must now be as tired of �Pious Visitations� as I was. Before leaving Meccah I was urgently invited to dine by old Ali bin Ya Sin, the Zemzemi; a proof that he entertained inordinate expectations, excited, it appeared, by the boy Mohammed, for the simple purpose of exalting his own dignity. One day we were hurriedly summoned about three P.M. to the senior�s house, a large building in the Zukak al-Hajar. We found it full of pilgrims, amongst whom we had no trouble to recognise our fellow-travellers, the quarrelsome old Arnaut and his impudent slave-boy. Ali met us upon the staircase, and conducted us into an upper room, where we sat upon diwans, and with pipes and coffee prepared for dinner. Presently the semicircle arose to receive a eunuch, who lodged somewhere in the house. He was a person of importance, being the guardian of some dames of high degree at Cairo and Constantinople: the highest place and [p.256] the best pipe were unhesitatingly offered to and accepted by him. He sat down with dignity, answered diplomatically certain mysterious questions about the dames, and applied his blubber lips to a handsome mouthpiece of lemon-coloured amber. It was a fair lesson of humility for a man to find himself ranked beneath this high-shouldered, spindle-shanked, beardless bit of neutrality; and as such I took it duly to heart. The dinner was served up in a Sini, a plated copper tray about six feet in circumference, and handsomely ornamented with arabesques and inscriptions. Under this was the usual Kursi, or stool, composed of mother-o�-pearl facets set in sandal-wood; and upon it a well-tinned and clean-looking service of the same material as the Sini. We began with a variety of stews�stews with spinach, stews with Bamiyah (hibiscus), and rich vegetable stews. These being removed, we dipped hands in Biryani, a meat pillaw, abounding in clarified butter; Kimah, finely chopped meat; Warak Mahshi, vine leaves filled with chopped and spiced mutton, and folded into small triangles; Kabab, or bits of roti spitted in mouthfuls upon a splinter of wood; together with a Salatah of the crispest cucumber, and various dishes of water-melon cut up into squares. Bread was represented by the Eastern scone, but it was of superior flavour, and far better than the ill-famed Chapati of India. Our drink was water perfumed with mastic. After the meat came a Kunafah, fine vermicelli sweetened with honey, and sprinkled with powdered white sugar; several stews of apples and quinces; Muhallibah, a thin jelly made of rice, flour, milk, starch, and a little perfume; together with squares of Rahah,[FN#15] a confiture [p.257] highly prized in these regions, because it comes from Constantinople. Fruits were then placed upon the table; plates full of pomegranate grains and dates of the finest flavour.[FN#16] The dinner concluded with a pillaw of rice and butter, for the easier discussion of which we were provided with carved wooden spoons. Arabs ignore the delightful French art of prolonging a dinner. After washing your hands, you sit down, throw an embroidered napkin over your knees, and with a �Bismillah,� by way of grace, plunge your hand into the attractive dish, changing ad libitum, occasionally sucking your finger-tips as boys do lollipops, and varying that diversion by cramming a chosen morsel into a friend�s mouth. When your hunger is satisfied, you do not sit for your companions; you exclaim �Al Hamd!� edge away from the tray, wash your hands and mouth with soap, display signs of repletion, otherwise you will be pressed to eat more, seize your pipe, sip your coffee, and take your �Kayf.� Nor is it customary, in these lands, to sit together after dinner�the evening prayer cuts short the seance. Before we rose to take leave of Ali bin Ya Sin, a boy ran into the room, and displayed those infantine civilities which in the East are equivalent to begging a present. I slipped a dollar into his hand; at the sight of which he, veritable little Meccan, could not contain his joy. �The Riyal!� he exclaimed; �the Riyal! look, grandpa�, the good Effendi has given me a Riyal!� The old gentleman�s eyes twinkled with emotion: he saw how easily the coin had slipped from my fingers, and he fondly hoped that he had not seen the last piece. �Verily thou art a good [p.258] young man!� he ejaculated, adding fervently, as prayers cost nothing, �May Allah further all thy desires.� A gentle patting of the back evidenced his high approval. I never saw old Ali after that evening, but entrusted to the boy Mohammed what was considered a just equivalent for his services. [FN#1] Jabal Nur, or Hira, has been mentioned before. Jabal Saur rises at some distance to the South of Meccah, and contains the celebrated cave in which Mohammed and Abu Bakr took refuge during the flight. [FN#2] The tradition of these places is related by every historian. The former is the repository of the Black Stone during the Deluge. The latter, �splitting of the moon,� is the spot where the Prophet stood when, to convert the idolatrous Kuraysh, he caused half the orb of night to rise from behind Abu Kubays, and the other from Jabal Kayka�an, on the Western horizon. This silly legend appears unknown to Mohammed�s day. [FN#3] The pilgrimage season, strictly speaking, concluded this year on the 17th September (13th Zu�l Hijjah); at which time travellers began to move towards Jeddah. Those who purposed visiting Al-Madinah would start about three weeks afterwards, and many who had leisure intended witnessing the Muharram ceremonies at Meccah. [FN#4] This is the local tradition; it does not agree with authentic history. Muir (Life of Mahomet, vol. iv. p. 126) reminds me that Khalid and his Badawin attacked the citizens of Meccah without the Prophet�s leave. But after the attack he may have followed in his leader�s train. [FN#5] The reason of their Vandalism has been noticed in a previous volume. [FN#6] The Aloe here, as in Egypt, is hung, like the dried crocodile, over houses as a talisman against evil spirits. Burckhardt assigns, as a motive for it being planted in graveyards, that its name Saber denotes the patience with which the believer awaits the Last Day. And Lane remarks, �The Aloe thus hung (over the door), without earth and water, will live for several years, and even blossom: hence it is called Saber, which signifies patience.� In India it is hung up to prevent Mosquitoes entering a room. I believe the superstition to be a fragment of African fetichism. The Gallas, to the present day, plant Aloes on graves, and suppose that when the plant sprouts the deceased has been admitted into the gardens of �Wak��the Creator. Ideas breed vocables; but seldom, except among rhymesters, does a vocable give birth to a popular idea: and in Arabic �Sibr,� as well as �Sabr,� is the name of the Aloe. [FN#7] Burckhardt mentions the �Tomb of Umna, the mother of Mohammed,� in the Ma�ala at Meccah; and all the ciceroni agree about the locality. Yet historians place it at Abwa, where she gave up the ghost, after visiting Al-Madinah to introduce her son to his relations. And the learned believe that the Prophet refused to pray over or to intercede for his mother, she having died before Al-Islam was revealed. [FN#8] Burckhardt calls it �Maulid Sittna Fatimah�: but the name �Kubbat el Wahy,� applied by my predecessor to this locality, is generally made synonymous with Al-Mukhtaba, the �hiding-place� where the Prophet and his followers used in dangerous times to meet for prayer. [FN#9] So loose is local tradition, that some have confounded this quern with the Natak al-Nabi, the stone which gave God-speed to the Prophet. [FN#10] He would of course pray the Farz, or obligatory devotions, at the shrine. [FN#11] About a year since writing the above a firman was issued by the Porte suppressing the traffic from Central Africa. Hitherto we have respected slavery in the Red Sea, because the Turk thence drew his supplies; we are now destitute of an excuse. A single steamer would destroy the trade, and if we delay to take active measures, the people of England, who have spent millions in keeping up a West African squadron, will not hold us guiltless of negligence. NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.�The slave trade has, since these remarks were penned, been suppressed with a high hand; the Arabs of Al-Hijaz resented the measure by disowning the supremacy of the Porte, but they were soon reduced to submission. [FN#12] The Prince was first invested with the Sharifat by Mohammed Ali of Egypt in A.D. 1827, when Yahya fled, after stabbing his nephew in the Ka�abah, to the Benu Harb Badawin. He was supported by Ahmad Pasha of Meccah, with a large army; but after the battle of Tarabah, in which Ibrahim Pasha was worsted by the Badawin, Mohammed Bin Aun, accused of acting as Sylla, was sent in honourable bondage to Cairo. He again returned to Meccah, where the rapacity of his eldest son, Abdullah, who would rob pilgrims, caused fresh misfortunes. In A.D. 1851, when Abd al-Muttalib was appointed Sharif, the Pasha was ordered to send Bin Aun to Stambul�no easy task. The Turk succeeded by a man�uvre. Mohammed�s two sons, happening to be at Jeddah, were invited to inspect a man-of-war, and were there made prisoners. Upon this the father yielded himself up; although, it is said, the flashing of the Badawi�s sabre during his embarkation made the Turks rejoice that they had won the day by state-craft. The wild men of Al-Hijaz still sing songs in honour of this Sharif. NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.�Early in 1856, when the Sharif Abd al-Muttalib was deposed, Mohammed bin Aun was sent from Constantinople to quiet the insurrection caused by the new slave laws in Al-Hijaz. In a short space of time he completely succeeded. [FN#13] The 12th of Rabia al-Awwal, Mohammed�s birthday, is here celebrated with great festivities, feasts, prayers, and perusals of the Koran. These �Maulid� (ceremonies of nativity) are by no means limited to a single day in the year. [FN#14] The reader is warned that I did not see the five places above enumerated. The ciceroni and books mention twelve other visitations, several of which are known only by name. 1. Al-Mukhtaba, the �hiding-place� alluded to in the preceding pages. Its locality is the subject of debate. 2. Dar al-Khayzaran, where the Prophet prayed secretly till the conversion of Omar enabled him to dispense with concealment. 3. Maulid Omar, or Omar�s birthplace, mentioned in books as being visited by devotees in the 14th Rabia al-Awwal of every year. 4. Abu Bakr�s house near the Natak al-Nabi. It is supposed to have been destroyed in the twelfth century. 5. Maulid Ja�afar al-Tayyar, near the Shabayki cemetery. 6. Al-Mada�a, an oratory, also called Naf al-Arz, because creation here began. 7. Dar al-Hijrah, where Mohammed and Abu Bakr mounted for the flight. 8. Masjid al-Rayah, where the Prophet planted his flag when Meccah surrendered. 9. Masjid al-Shajarah, a spot at which Mohammed caused a tree to advance and to retire. 10. Masjid al-Ja�aranah, where Mohammed clad himself in the pilgrim garb. It is still visited by some Persians. 11. Mas[]jid Ibrahim, or Abu Kubays. 12. Masjid Zu Tawa. [FN#15] Familiar for �Rahat al-Hulkum,��the pleasure of the throat,�a name which has sorely puzzled our tourists. This sweetmeat would be pleasant did it not smell so strongly of the perruquier�s shop. Rosewater tempts to many culinary sins in the East; and Europeans cannot dissociate it from the idea of a lotion. However, if a guest is to be honoured, rosewater must often take the place of the pure element, even in tea. [FN#16] Meccah is amply supplied with water-melons, dates, limes, grapes, cucumbers, and other vegetables from Taif and Wady Fatimah. During the pilgrimage season the former place sends at least 100 camels every day to the capital. [p.259] CHAPTER XXXIV. TO JEDDAH. A GENERAL plunge into worldly pursuits and pleasures announced the end of the pilgrimage ceremonies. All the devotees were now �whitewashed��the book of their sins was a tabula rasa: too many of them lost no time in making a new departure �down south,� and in opening a fresh account. The faith must not bear the blame of the irregularities. They may be equally observed in the Calvinist, after a Sunday of prayer, sinning through Monday with a zest, and the Romanist falling back with new fervour upon the causes of his confession and penance, as in the Moslem who washes his soul clean by running and circumambulation; and, in fairness, it must be observed that, as amongst Christians, so in the Moslem persuasion, there are many notable exceptions to this rule of extremes. Several of my friends and acquaintances date their reformation from their first sight of the Ka�abah. The Moslem�s �Holy Week� over, nothing detained me at Meccah. For reasons before stated, I resolved upon returning to Cairo, resting there for awhile, and starting a second time for the interior, via Muwaylah.[FN#1] The Meccans are as fond of little presents as are nuns: the Kabirah took an affectionate leave of me, begged me to be careful of her boy, who was to accompany [p.260] me to Jeddah, and laid friendly but firm hands upon a brass pestle and mortar, upon which she had long cast the eye of concupiscence. Having hired two camels for thirty-five piastres, and paid half the sum in advance, I sent on my heavy boxes with Shaykh, now Haji Nur, to Jeddah.[FN#2] Omar Effendi was to wait at Meccah till his father had started, in command of the Dromedary Caravan, when he would privily take ass, join me at the port, and return to his beloved Cairo. I bade a long farewell to all my friends, embraced the Turkish pilgrims, and mounting our donkeys, the boy Mohammed and I left the house. Abdullah the Melancholy followed us on foot through the city, and took leave of me, though without embracing, at the Shabayki quarter. Issuing into the open plain, I felt a thrill of pleasure�such joy as only the captive delivered from his dungeon can experience. The sunbeams warmed me into renewed life and vigour, the air of the Desert was a perfume, and the homely face of Nature was as the smile of a dear old friend. I contemplated the Syrian Caravan, lying on the right of our road, without any of the sadness usually suggested by a parting look. It is not my intention minutely to describe the line down which we travelled that night: the pages of Burckhardt give full information about the country. Leaving Meccah, we fell into the direct road running south of Wady Fatimah, and traversed for about an hour a flat surrounded by hills. Then we entered a valley by a flight of rough stone steps, dangerously slippery and zigzag, intended to facilitate the descent for camels and for laden beasts. About midnight we passed into a hill-girt Wady, here covered with deep sands, there hard with [p.261] gravelly clay: and, finally, about dawn, we sighted the maritime plain of Jeddah. Shortly after leaving the city, our party was joined by other travellers, and towards evening we found ourselves in force, the effect of an order that pilgrims must not proceed singly upon this road. Coffee-houses and places of refreshment abounding, we halted every five miles to refresh ourselves and the donkeys.[FN#3] At sunset we prayed near a Turkish guard-house, where one of the soldiers kindly supplied me with water for ablution. Before nightfall I was accosted, in Turkish, by a one-eyed old fellow, who, �with faded brow, Entrenched with many a frown, and conic beard,� and habited in unclean garments, was bestriding a donkey as faded as himself. When I shook my head, he addressed me in Persian. The same man�uvre made him try Arabic; still he obtained no answer. Then he grumbled out good Hindustani. That also failing, he tried successively Pushtu, Armenian, English, French, and Italian. At last I could �keep a stiff lip� no longer; at every change of dialect his emphasis beginning with �Then who the d� are you?� became more emphatic. I turned upon him in Persian, and found that he had been a pilot, a courier, and a servant to Eastern tourists, and that he had visited England, France, and Italy, the Cape, India, Central Asia, and China. We then chatted in English, which Haji Akif spoke well, but with all manner of courier�s phrases; Haji Abdullah so badly, that he was counselled a course of study. It was not a little strange to hear such phrases as �Come �p, Neddy,� and �Cre nom d�un baudet,� almost within earshot of the tomb of Ishmael, the birthplace of Mohammed, and the Sanctuary of Al-Islam. [p.262] About eight P.M. we passed the Alamayn, which define the Sanctuary in this direction. They stand about nine miles from Meccah, and near them are a coffee-house and a little oratory, popularly known as the Sabil Agha Almas. On the road, as night advanced, we met long strings of camels, some carrying litters, others huge beams, and others bales of coffee, grain, and merchandise. Sleep began to weigh heavily upon my companions� eye-lids, and the boy Mohammed hung over the flank of his donkey in a most ludicrous position. About midnight we reached a mass of huts, called Al-Haddah. Ali Bey places it eight leagues from Jeddah. At �the Boundary� which is considered to be the half-way halting-place, Pilgrims must assume the religious garb,[FN#4] and Infidels travelling to Taif are taken off the Meccan road into one leading Northward to Arafat. The settlement is a collection of huts and hovels, built with sticks and reeds, supporting brushwood and burned and blackened palm leaves. It is maintained for supplying pilgrims with coffee and water. Travellers speak with horror of its heat during the day; Ali Bey, who visited it twice, compares it to a furnace. Here the country slopes gradually towards the sea, the hills draw off, and every object denotes departure from the Meccan plateau. At Al-Haddah we dismounted for an hour�s halt. A coffee-house supplied us with mats, water-pipes, and other necessaries; we then produced a basket of provisions, the parting gift of the kind Kabirah, and, this late supper concluded, we lay down to doze. After half an hour�s halt had expired, and the donkeys were saddled, I shook up with difficulty the boy Mohammed, and induced him to mount. He was, to use his own expression, �dead from sleep�; and we had [p.263] scarcely advanced an hour, when, arriving at another little coffee-house, he threw himself upon the ground, and declared it impossible to proceed. This act caused some confusion. The donkey-boy was a pert little Badawi, offensively republican in manner. He had several times addressed me impudently, ordering me not to flog his animal, or to hammer its sides with my heels. On these occasions he received a contemptuous snub, which had the effect of silencing him. But now, thinking we were in his power, he swore that he would lead away the beasts, and leave us behind to be robbed and murdered. A pinch of the windpipe, and a spin over the ground, altered his plans at the outset of execution. He gnawed his hand with impotent rage, and went away, threatening us with the Governor of Jeddah next morning. Then an Egyptian of the party took up the thread of remonstrance; and, aided by the old linguist, who said, in English �by G�! you must budge, you�ll catch it here!� he assumed a brisk and energetic style, exclaiming, �Yallah! rise and mount; thou art only losing our time; thou dost not intend to sleep in the Desert!� I replied, �O my Uncle, do not exceed in talk!��Fuzul (excess) in Arabic is equivalent to telling a man in English not to be impertinent�rolled over on the other side heavily, as doth Encelades, and pretended to snore, whilst the cowed Egyptian urged the others to make us move. The question was thus settled by the boy Mohammed who had been aroused by the dispute: �Do you know,� he whispered, in awful accents, �what that person is?� and he pointed to me. �Why, no,� replied the others. �Well,� said the youth, �the other day the Utaybah showed us death in the Zaribah Pass, and what do you think he did?� �Wallah! what do we know!� exclaimed the Egyptian, �What did he do?� �He called for�his dinner,� replied the youth, with a slow and [p.264] sarcastic emphasis. That trait was enough. The others mounted, and left us quietly to sleep. I have been diffuse in relating this little adventure, which is characteristic, showing what bravado can do in Arabia. It also suggests a lesson, which every traveller in these regions should take well to heart. The people are always ready to terrify him with frightful stories, which are the merest phantoms of cowardice. The reason why the Egyptian displayed so much philanthropy was that, had one of the party been lost, the survivors might have fallen into trouble. But in this place, we were, I believe,�despite the declarations of our companions that it was infested with Turpins and Fra Diavolos,�as safe as in Meccah. Every night, during the pilgrimage season, a troop of about fifty horsemen patrol the roads; we were all armed to the teeth, and our party looked too formidable to be �cruelly beaten by a single footpad.� Our nap concluded, we remounted, and resumed the weary way down a sandy valley, in which the poor donkeys sank fetlock-deep. At dawn we found our companions halted, and praying at the Kahwat Turki, another little coffee-house. Here an exchange of what is popularly called �chaff� took place. �Well,� cried the Egyptian, �what have ye gained by halting? We have been quiet here, praying and smoking for the last hour!� �Go, eat thy buried beans,[FN#5]� we replied. �What does an Egyptian boor know of manliness!� The surly donkey-boy was worked up into a paroxysm of passion by such small jokes as telling him to convey our salams to the Governor of Jeddah, and by calling the asses after the name of his tribe. He replied by �foul, unmannered, scurril taunts,� which only drew forth fresh derision, and the coffee-house keeper laughed consumedly, [p.265] having probably seldom entertained such �funny gentlemen.� Shortly after leaving the Kahwat Turki we found the last spur of the highlands that sink into the Jeddah Plain. This view would for some time be my last of �Infamous hills, and sandy, perilous wilds;� and I contemplated it with the pleasure of one escaping from it. Before us lay the usual iron flat of these regions, whitish with salt, and tawny with stones and gravel; but relieved and beautified by the distant white walls, whose canopy was the lovely blue sea. Not a tree, not a patch of verdure was in sight ; nothing distracted our attention from the sheet of turquoises in the distance. Merrily the little donkeys hobbled on, in spite of their fatigue. Soon we distinguished the features of the town, the minarets, the fortifications�so celebrated since their honeycombed guns beat off in 1817 the thousands of Abdullah bin Sa�ud, the Wahhabi,[FN#6] and a small dome outside the walls. The sun began to glow fiercely, and we were not sorry when, at about eight A.M., after passing through the mass of hovels and coffee-houses, cemeteries and sand-hills, which forms the eastern approach to Jeddah, we entered the fortified Bab Makkah. Allowing eleven hours for our actual march,�we halted about three,�those wonderful donkeys had accomplished between forty-four [p.266] and forty-six miles,[FN#7] generally in deep sand, in one night. And they passed the archway of Jeddah cantering almost as nimbly as when they left Meccah. Shaykh Nur had been ordered to take rooms for me in a vast pile of madrepore�unfossilized coral, a recent formation,�once the palace of Mohammed bin Aun, and now converted into a Wakalah. Instead of so doing, Indian-like, he had made a gipsy encampment in the square opening upon the harbour. After administering the requisite correction, I found a room that would suit me. In less than an hour it was swept, sprinkled with water, spread with mats, and made as comfortable as its capability admitted. At Jeddah I felt once more at home. The sight of the sea acted as a tonic. The Maharattas were not far wrong when they kept their English captives out of reach of the ocean, declaring that we were an amphibious race, to whom the wave is a home. After a day�s repose at the Caravanserai, the camel-man and donkey-boy clamouring for money, and I not having more than tenpence of borrowed coin, it was necessary to cash at the British Vice-Consulate a draft given to me by the Royal Geographical Society. With some trouble I saw Mr. Cole, who, suffering from fever, was declared to be �not at home.� His dragoman did by no means admire my looks; in fact, the general voice of the household was against me. After some fruitless messages, I sent up a scrawl to Mr. Cole, who decided upon admitting the importunate Afghan. An exclamation of astonishment and a hospitable welcome followed my self-introduction as an officer of the Indian army. Amongst other things, the Vice-Consul informed me that, in divers discussions with the Turks about the possibility of an Englishman finding his way en cachette to Meccah, [p.267] he had asserted that his compatriots could do everything, even pilgrim to the Holy City. The Moslems politely assented to the first, but denied the second part of the proposition. Mr. Cole promised himself a laugh at the Turks� beards; but since my departure, he wrote to me that the subject made the owners look so serious, that he did not like recurring to it. Truly gratifying to the pride of an Englishman was our high official position assumed and maintained at Jeddah. Mr. Cole had never, like his colleague at Cairo, lowered himself in the estimation of the proud race with which he has to deal, by private or mercantile transactions with the authorities. He has steadily withstood the wrath of the Meccan Sharif, and taught him to respect the British name. The Abbe Hamilton ascribed the attentions of the Prince to �the infinite respect which the Arabs entertain for Mr. Cole�s straightforward way of doing business,�it was a delicate flattery addressed to him.� And the writer was right; honesty of purpose is never thrown away amongst these people. The general contrast between our Consular proceedings at Cairo and Jeddah is another proof of the advisability of selecting Indian officials to fill offices of trust at Oriental courts. They have lived amongst Easterns, and they know one Asiatic language, with many Asiatic customs; and, chief merit of all, they have learned to assume a tone of command, without which, whatever may be thought of it in England, it is impossible to take the lead in the East. The �home-bred� diplomate is not only unconscious of the thousand traps everywhere laid for him, he even plays into the hands of his crafty antagonists by a ceremonious politeness, which they interpret�taking ample care that the interpretation should spread�to be the effect of fear or of fraud. Jeddah[FN#8] has been often described by modern pens. [p.268] Burckhardt (in A.D. 18[14]) devoted a hundred pages of his two volumes to the unhappy capital of the Tihamat al-Hijaz, the lowlands of the mountain region. Later still, MM. Mari and Chedufau wrote upon the subject; and two other French travellers, MM. Galinier and Ferret, published tables of the commerce in its present state, quoting as authority the celebrated Arabicist M. Fresnel.[FN#9] These [p.269] have been translated by the author of �Life in Abyssinia.� Abd al-Karim, writing in 1742, informs us that the French had a factory at Jeddah; and in 1760, when Bruce revisited the port, he found the East India Company in possession of a post whence they dispersed their merchandise over the adjoining regions. But though the English were at an early epoch of their appearance in the East received here with especial favour, I failed to procure a single ancient document. Jeddah, when I visited it, was in a state of commotion, owing to the perpetual passage of pilgrims, and provisions were for the same reason scarce and dear. The two large Wakalahs, of which the place boasts, were crowded with travellers, and many were reduced to encamping upon the squares. Another subject of confusion was the state of the soldiery. The Nizam, or Regulars, had not been paid for seven months, and the Arnauts could scarcely sum up what was owing to them. Easterns are wonderfully amenable to discipline; a European army, under the circumstances, would probably have helped itself. But the Pasha knew that there is a limit to a man�s endurance, and he was anxiously casting about for some contrivance that would replenish the empty pouches of his troops. The worried dignitary must have sighed for those beaux jours when privily firing the town and allowing the soldiers to plunder, was the Oriental style of settling arrears of pay.[FN#10] [p.270] Jeddah displays all the license of a seaport and garrison town. Fair Corinthians establish themselves even within earshot of the Karakun, or guard-post; a symptom of excessive laxity in the authorities, for it is the duty of the watch to visit all such irregularities with a bastinado preparatory to confinement. My guardians and attendants at the Wakalah used to fetch Araki in a clear glass bottle, without even the decency of a cloth, and the messenger twice returned from these errands decidedly drunk. More extraordinary still, the people seemed to take no notice of the scandal. The little �Dwarka� had been sent by the Bombay Steam Navigation Company to convey pilgrims from Al-Hijaz to India. I was still hesitating about my next voyage, not wishing to coast the Red Sea in this season without a companion, when one morning Omar Effendi appeared at the door, weary, and dragging after him an ass more weary than himself. We supplied him with a pipe and a cup of hot tea, and, as he was fearful of pursuit, we showed him a dark hole full of grass under which he might sleep concealed. The student�s fears were realised; his father appeared early the next morning, and having ascertained from the porter that the fugitive was in the house, politely called upon me. Whilst he plied all manner of questions, his black slave furtively stared at everything in and about the room. But we had found time to cover the runaway with grass, and the old gentleman departed, after a fruitless search. There was, however, a grim smile about his mouth which boded no good. That evening, returning home from the Hammam, I found the house in an uproar. The boy Mohammed, who had been miserably mauled, was furious with rage; and Shaykh Nur was equally unmanageable, by reason of his fear. In my absence the father had returned with a posse comitatus of friends and relatives. They questioned the [p.271] youth, who delivered himself of many circumstantial and emphatic mis-statements. Then they proceeded to open the boxes; upon which the boy Mohammed cast himself sprawling, with a vow to die rather than to endure such a disgrace. This procured for him some scattered slaps, which presently became a storm of blows, when a prying little boy discovered Omar Effendi�s leg in the hiding-place. The student was led away unresisting, but mildly swearing that he would allow no opportunity of escape to pass. I examined the boy Mohammed, and was pleased to find that he was not seriously hurt. To pacify his mind, I offered to sally out with him, and to rescue Omar Effendi by main force. This, which would only have brought us all into a brunt with quarterstaves, and similar servile weapons, was declined, as had been foreseen. But the youth recovered complacency, and a few well-merited encomiums upon his �pluck� restored him to high spirits. The reader must not fancy such escapade to be a serious thing in Arabia. The father did not punish his son; he merely bargained with him to return home for a few days before starting to Egypt. This the young man did, and shortly afterwards I met him unexpectedly in the streets of Cairo. Deprived of my companion, I resolved to waste no time in the Red Sea, but to return to Egypt with the utmost expedition. The boy Mohammed having laid in a large store of grain, purchased with my money, having secured all my disposable articles, and having hinted that, after my return to India, a present of twenty dollars would find him at Meccah, asked leave, and departed with a coolness for which I could not account. Some days afterwards Shaykh Nur explained the cause. I had taken the youth with me on board the steamer, where a bad suspicion crossed his mind. �Now, I understand,� said the boy Mohammed to his fellow-servant, �your master is a Sahib from India; he hath laughed at our beards.� [p.272] He parted as coolly from Shaykh Nur. These worthy youths had been drinking together, when Mohammed, having learned at Stambul the fashionable practice of Bad-masti, or �liquor-vice,� dug his �fives� into Nur�s eye. Nur erroneously considering such exercise likely to induce blindness, complained to me; but my sympathy was all with the other side. I asked the Hindi why he had not returned the compliment, and the Meccan once more overwhelmed the Miyan with taunt and jibe. It is not easy to pass the time at Jeddah. In the square opposite to us was an unhappy idiot, who afforded us a melancholy spectacle. He delighted to wander about in a primitive state of toilette, as all such wretches do; but the people of Jeddah, far too civilised to retain Moslem respect for madness, forced him, despite shrieks and struggles, into a shirt, and when he tore it off they beat him. At other times the open space before us was diversified by the arrival and the departure of pilgrims, but it was a mere rechauffe of the feast, and had lost all power to please. Whilst the boy Mohammed remained, he used to pass the time in wrangling with some Indians, who were living next door to us, men, women, and children, in a promiscuous way. After his departure I used to spend my days at the Vice-Consulate; the proceeding was not perhaps of the safest, but the temptation of meeting a fellow-countryman, and of chatting �shop� about the service was too great to be resisted. I met there the principal merchants of Jeddah; Khwajah Sower, a Greek; M. Anton, a Christian from Baghdad, and others.[FN#11]And I was introduced to Khalid Bey, brother of Abdullah bin Sa�ud, the Wahhabi. This noble Arab once held the [p.273] official position of Mukayyid al-Jawabat, or Secretary, at Cairo, where he was brought up by Mohammed Ali. He is brave, frank, and unprejudiced, fond of Europeans, and a lover of pleasure. Should it be his fate to become chief of the tribe, a journey to Riyaz, and a visit to Central Arabia, will offer no difficulties to our travellers. I now proceed to the last of my visitations. Outside the town of Jeddah lies no less a personage than Sittna Hawwa, the Mother of mankind. The boy Mohammed and I, mounting asses one evening, issued through the Meccan gate, and turned towards the North-East over a sandy plain. After half an hour�s ride, amongst dirty huts and tattered coffee-hovels, we reached the enceinte, and found the door closed. Presently a man came running with might from the town; he was followed by two others; and it struck me at the time they applied the key with peculiar empressement, and made inordinately low conges as we entered the enclosure of whitewashed walls. �The Mother� is supposed to lie, like a Moslemah, fronting the Ka�abah, with her feet northwards, her head southwards, and her right cheek propped by her right hand. Whitewashed, and conspicuous to the voyager and traveller from afar, is a diminutive dome with an opening to the West; it is furnished as such places usually are in Al-Hijaz. Under it and in the centre is a square stone, planted upright and fancifully carved, to represent the omphalic region of the human frame. This, as well as the dome, is called Al-Surrah, or the navel. The cicerone directed me to kiss this manner of hieroglyph, which I did, thinking the while, that, under the circumstances, the salutation was quite uncalled-for. Having prayed here, and at the head, where a few young trees grow, we walked along the side of the two parallel dwarf walls which define the outlines of the body: they are about six paces apart, and between them, upon Eve�s [p.274] neck, are two tombs, occupied, I was told, by Osman Pasha and his son, who repaired the Mother�s sepulchre. I could not help remarking to the boy Mohammed, that if our first parent measured a hundred and twenty paces from head to waist, and eighty from waist to heel, she must have presented much the appearance of a duck. To this the youth replied, flippantly, that he thanked his stars the Mother was underground, otherwise that men would lose their senses with fright. Ibn Jubayr (twelfth century) mentions only an old dome, �built upon the place where Eve stopped on the way to Meccah.� Yet Al-Idrisi (A.D. 1154) declares Eve�s grave to be at Jeddah. Abd al-Karim (1742) compares it to a parterre, with a little dome in the centre, and the extremities ending in barriers of palisades; the circumference was a hundred and ninety of his steps. In Rooke�s Travels we are told that the tomb is twenty feet long. Ali Bey, who twice visited Jeddah, makes no allusion to it; we may therefore conclude that it had been destroyed by the Wahhabis. Burckhardt, who, I need [p.275] scarcely say, has been carefully copied by our popular authors, was informed that it was a �rude structure of stone, about four feet in length, two or three feet in height, and as many in breadth�; thus resembling the tomb of Noah, seen in the valley of Al-Buka�a in Syria. Bruce writes: �Two days� journey from this place (? Meccah or Jeddah) Eve�s grave, of green sods, about fifty yards in length, is shown to this day�; but the great traveller probably never issued from the town-gates. And Sir W. Harris, who could not have visited the Holy Place, repeats, in 1840, that Eve�s grave of green sod is still shown on the barren shore of the Red Sea.� The present structure is clearly modern; anciently, I was told at Jeddah, the sepulchre consisted of a stone at the head, a second at the feet, and the navel-dome. The idol of Jeddah, in the days of Arab litholatry, was called Sakhrah Tawilah, the Long Stone. May not this stone of Eve be the Moslemized revival of the old idolatry? It is to be observed that the Arabs, if the tombs be admitted as evidence, are inconsistent in their dimensions of the patriarchal stature. The sepulchre of Adam at the Masjid al-Khayf is, like that of Eve, gigantic. That of Noah at Al-Buka�a is a bit of Aqueduct thirty-eight paces long by one and a half wide. Job�s tomb near Hulah (seven parasangs from Kerbela) is small. I have not seen the grave of Moses (south-east of the Red Sea), which is becoming known by the bitumen cups there sold to pilgrims. But Aaron�s sepulchre in the Sinaitic peninsula is of moderate dimensions. On leaving the graveyard I offered the guardian a dollar, which he received with a remonstrance that a man of my dignity should give so paltry a fee. Nor was he at all contented with the assurance that nothing more could be expected from an Afghan Darwaysh, however pious. Next day the boy Mohammed explained the [p.276] Man�s empressement and disappointment,�I had been mistaken for the Pasha of Al-Madinah. For a time my peregrinations ended. Worn out with fatigue, and the fatal fiery heat, I embarked (Sept. 26) on board the �Dwarka�; experienced the greatest kindness from the commander and chief officer (Messrs. Wolley and Taylor); and, wondering the while how the Turkish pilgrims who crowded the vessel did not take the trouble to throw me overboard, in due time I arrived at Suez. And here, reader, we part. Bear with me while I conclude, in the words of a brother traveller, long gone, but not forgotten�Fa-hian�this Personal Narrative of my Journey to Al-Hijaz: �I have been exposed to perils, and I have escaped from them; I have traversed the sea, and have not succumbed under the severest fatigues; and my heart is moved with emotions of gratitude, that I have been permitted to effect the objects I had in view.�[FN#12] [FN#1] This second plan was defeated by bad health, which detained me in Egypt till a return to India became imperative. [FN#2] The usual hire is thirty piastres, but in the pilgrimage season a dollar is often paid. The hire of an ass varies from one to three riyals. [FN#3] Besides the remains of those in ruins, there are on this road eight coffee-houses and stations for travellers, private buildings, belonging to men who supply water and other necessaries. [FN#4] In Ibn Jubayr�s time the Ihram was assumed at Al-Furayn, now a decayed station, about two hours� journey from Al-Haddah, towards Jeddah. [FN#5] The favourite Egyptian �kitchen�; held to be contemptible food by the Arabs. [FN#6] In 1817 Abdullah bin Sa�ud attacked Jeddah with 50,000 men, determining to overthrow its �Kafir-works�; namely, its walls and towers. The assault is described as ludicrous. All the inhabitants aided to garrison: they waited till the wild men flocked about the place, crying, �Come, and let us look at the labours of the infidel,� they then let fly, and raked them with matchlock balls and old nails acting grape. The Wahhabi host at last departed, unable to take a place which a single battery of our smallest siege-guns would breach in an hour. And since that day the Meccans have never ceased to boast of their Gibraltar, and to taunt the Madinites with their wall-less port, Yambu�. [FN#7] Al-Idrisi places Meccah forty (Arab) miles from Jeddah. Burckhardt gives fifty-five miles, and Ali Bey has not computed the total distance. [FN#8] Abulfeda writes the word �Juddah,� and Mr. Lane, as well as MM. Mari and Chedufau, adopt this form, which signifies a �plain wanting water.� The water of Jeddah is still very scarce and bad; all who can afford it drink the produce of hill springs brought in skins by the Badawin. Ibn Jubayr mentions that outside the town were 360 old wells(?), dug, it is supposed by the Persians. �Jeddah,� or �Jiddah,� is the vulgar pronounciation; and not a few of the learned call it �Jaddah� (the grandmother), in allusion to the legend of Eve�s tomb. [FN#9] In Chapters iii. and vi. of this work I have ventured some remarks upon the advisability of our being represented in Al-Hijaz by a Consul, and at Meccah by a native agent, till the day shall come when the tide of events forces us to occupy the mother-city of Al-Islam. My apology for reverting to these points must be the nature of an Englishman, who would everywhere see his nation �second to none,� even at Jeddah. Yet, when we consider that from twenty-five to thirty vessels here arrive annually from India, and that the value of the trade is about twenty-five lacs of rupees, the matter may be thought worth attending to. The following extracts from a letter written to me by Mr. Cole shall conclude this part of my task:� �You must know, that in 1838 a commercial treaty was concluded between Great Britain and the Porte, specifying (amongst many other clauses here omitted),� �1. That all merchandise imported from English ports to Al-Hijaz should pay 4 per cent. duty. �2. That all merchandise imported by British subjects from countries not under the dominion of the Porte should likewise pay but 5 per cent. �3. That all goods exported from countries under the dominion of the Porte should pay 12 per cent., after a deduction of 16 per cent. from the market-value of the articles. �4. That all monopolies be abolished.� �Now, when I arrived at Jeddah, the state of affairs was this. A monopoly had been established upon salt, and this weighed only upon our Anglo-Indian subjects, they being the sole purchasers. Five per cent. was levied upon full value of goods, no deduction of the 20 per cent. being allowed; the same was the case with exports; and most vexatious of all, various charges had been established by the local authorities, under the names of boat-hire, weighing, brokerage, &c., &c. The duties had thus been raised from 4 to at least 8 per cent. * * * This being represented at Constantinople, brought a peremptory Firman, ordering the governor to act up to the treaty letter by letter. * * * I have had the satisfaction to rectify the abuses of sixteen years� standing during my first few months of office, but I expect all manner of difficulties in claiming reimbursement for the over-exactions.� [FN#10] M. Rochet (soi-disant d�Hericourt) amusingly describes this man�uvre of the governor of Al-Hodaydah. [FN#11] Many of them were afterwards victims to the �Jeddah massacre� on June 30, 1858. I must refer the reader to my �Lake Regions of Central Africa� (Appendix, vol. ii.) for an account of this event, for the proposals which I made to ward it off, and for the miserable folly of the �Bombay Government,� who rewarded me by an official reprimand. [FN#12] The curious reader will find details concerning Patriarchal and Prophetical Tombs in �Unexplored Syria,� i. 33�35. [p.277] APPENDICES. [p.279] APPENDIX I. OF HAJJ, OR PILGRIMAGE. The word Hajj is explained by Moslem divines to mean �Kasd,� or aspiration, and to express man�s sentiment that he is but a wayfarer on earth wending towards another and a nobler world. This explains the origin and the belief that the greater the hardships the higher will be the reward of the pious wanderer. He is urged by the voice of his soul: �O thou who toilest so hard for worldly pleasures and perishable profit, wilt thou endure nothing to win a more lasting reward?� Hence it is that pilgrimage is common to all old faiths. The Hindus still wander to Egypt, to Tibet, and to the inhospitable Caucasus; the classic philosophers visited Egypt; the Jews annually flocked to Jerusalem; and the Tartars and Mongols�Buddhists�journey to distant Lamaserais. The spirit of pilgrimage was predominant in mediæval Europe, and the processions of the Roman Catholic Church are, according to her votaries,[FN#1] modern memorials of the effete rite. Every Moslem is bound, under certain conditions,[FN#2] [p.280] to pay at least one visit to the Holy City. This constitutes the Hajjat al-Farz (the one obligatory pilgrimage), or Hajjat al-Islam, of the Mohammedan faith. Repetitions become mere Sunnats, or practices of the Prophet, and are therefore supererogatory. Some European writers have of late years laboured to represent the Meccan pilgrimage as a fair, a pretext to collect merchants and to afford Arabia the benefits of purchase and barter. It would be vain to speculate whether the secular or the spiritual element originally prevailed; but most probably each had its portion. But those who peruse this volume will see that, despite the comparatively lukewarm piety of the age, the Meccan pilgrimage is religious essentially, accidentally an affair of commerce. Moslem pilgrimage is of three kinds. 1. Al-Mukarinah (the uniting) is when the votary performs the Hajj and the Umrah[FN#3] together, as was done by the Prophet in his last visit to Meccah. 2. Al-Ifrad (singulation) is when either the Hajj or the Umrah is performed singularly, the former preceding the latter. The pilgrim may be either Al-Mufrid b�il Hajj [p.281] (one who is performing only the Hajj), or vice versa, Al-Mufrid b�il Umrah. According to Abu Hanifah, this form is more efficacious than the following. 3. Al-Tamattu (�possession�) is when the pilgrim assumes the Ihram, and preserves it throughout the months of Shawwal, Zu�l Ka�adah, and nine days (ten nights) in Zu�l Hijjah,[FN#4] performing Hajj and Umrah the while. There is another threefold division of pilgrimage:� 1. Umrah (the little pilgrimage), performed at any time except the pilgrimage season. It differs in some of its forms from Hajj, as will afterwards appear. 2. Hajj (or simple pilgrimage), performed at the proper season. 3. Hajj al-Akbar (the great pilgrimage) is when the �day of Arafat� happens to fall upon a Friday. This is a most auspicious occasion. M. Caussin de Perceval and other writers, departing from the practice of (modern?) Islam, make �Hajj al-Akbar� to mean the simple pilgrimage, in opposition to the Umrah, which they call �Hajj al-Asghar.� The following compendium of the Shafe�i pilgrim-rites is translated from a little treatise by Mohammed of Shirbin, surnamed Al-Khatib, a learned doctor, whose work is generally read in Egypt and in the countries adjoining. CHAPTER I.�OF PILGRIMAGE.[FN#5] �Know,� says the theologist, with scant preamble, �that the acts of Al-Hajj, or pilgrimage, are of three kinds:� [p.282] �1. Al-Arkan or Farayz; those made obligatory by Koranic precepts, and therefore essentially necessary, and not admitting expiatory or vicarious atonement, either in Hajj or Umrah. �2. Al-Wajibat (requisites); the omission of which may, according to some schools,[FN#6] be compensated for by the Fidyat, or atoning sacrifice: and� �3. Al-Sunan (pl. of Sunnat), the practice of the Prophet, which may be departed from without positive sin. �Now, the Arkan, the �pillars� upon which the rite stands, are six in number,[FN#7] viz.:� �1. Al-Ihram (�rendering unlawful�), or the wearing pilgrim garb and avoiding certain actions. �2. Al-Wukuf, the �standing� upon Mount Arafat. �3. The Tawaf al-Ifazah, or circumambulation of impetuosity.[FN#8] [p.283] �4. The Sai, or course between Mounts Safa and Marwah. �5. Al-Halk; tonsure (of the whole or part) of the head for men; or taksir, cutting the hair (for men or women).[FN#9] �6. Al-Tartib, or the due order of the ceremonies, as above enumerated. �But Al-Sai (4), may either precede or follow Al-Wukuf (2), provided that the Tawaf al-Kudum, or the circumambulation of arrival, has previously been performed. And Halk (5) may be done before as well as after the Tawaf al-Ifazah (3). �Now, the Wajibat (requisites of pilgrimage, also called �Nusuk�) are five in number, viz.:� �1. Al-Ihram, or assuming pilgrim garb, from the Mikat, or fixed limit.[FN#10] �2. The Mabit, or nighting at Muzdalifah: for this a short portion, generally in the latter watch, preceding the Yaum al-Nahr, or victim-day, suffices. �3. The spending at Muna the three nights of the �Ayyam al-Tashrik,� or days of drying flesh: of these, the first is the most important. �4. The Rami al-Jimar, or casting stones at the devil: and� �5. The avoiding of all things forbidden to the pilgrim when in a state of Ihram. �Some writers reduce these requisites by omitting the second and third. The Tawaf al-Wida�a, or the circumambulation of farewell, is a �Wajib Mustakill,� or particular requisite, which may, however, be omitted without prejudice to pilgrimage. �Finally, the Sunnat of pilgrimage are many in number. Of these I enumerate but a few. �Hajj� should precede �Umrah.� The �Talbiyat� should be frequently ejaculated. The �Tawaf al-Kudum� must be performed on arrival at Meccah, before proceeding to Mount Arafat.[FN#11] The two-bow prayer should follow [p.284] Tawaf. A whole night should be passed at Muzdalifah and Muna.[FN#12] The circumambulation of farewell must not be forgotten,[FN#13] and the pilgrim should avoid all sewn clothes, even slippers.� Section I.�Of Ihram. �Before doffing his laical garment, the pilgrim performs a total ablution, shaves, and perfumes himself. He then puts on a �Rida� and an �Izar,[FN#14]� both new, clean, and of a white colour: after which he performs a two-bow prayer (the �Sunnat� of Al-Ihram), with a sotto-voce Niyat, specifying which rite he intends.[FN#15] �When Muhrim (i.e. in Ihram), the Moslem is forbidden (unless in case of sickness, necessity, over-heat, or unendurable cold, when a victim must expiate the transgression),� �1. To cover his head with aught which may be deemed a covering, as a cap or turband; but he may carry an umbrella, dive under water, stand in the shade, and even place his hands upon his head. A woman may wear sewn clothes, white or light blue (not black), but her face-veil should be kept at a distance from her face. �2. To wear anything sewn or with seams, as shirt, trowsers, or slippers; anything knotted or woven, as chain-armour; but the pilgrim may use, for instance, a torn-up shirt or trowsers bound round his loins or thrown over his shoulders, he may knot his �Izar,� and tie it with a cord, and he may gird his waist. �3. To knot the Rida, or shoulder-cloth.[FN#16] [p.285] �4. To deviate from absolute chastity, even kissing being forbidden to the Muhrim. Marriage cannot be contracted during the pilgrimage season. �5. To use perfumes, oil, curling the locks, or removing the nails and hair by paring, cutting, plucking, or burning. The nails may be employed to remove pediculi from the hair and clothes, but with care, that no pile fall off. �6. To hunt wild animals, or to kill those which were such originally. But he may destroy the �five noxious,��a kite, a crow, a rat, a scorpion, and a dog given to biting. He must not cut down a tree,[FN#17] or pluck up a self-growing plant; but he is permitted to reap and to cut grass. �It is meritorious for the pilgrim often to raise the �Talbiyat� cry (for which see p. 140 ante). ��Labbayk� Allahumma Labbayk�! La Sharika laka Labbayk�! Inna �l hamda wa �l ni�amata laka w�al mulk! La Sharika laka, Labbayk.�[FN#18] �When assuming the pilgrim-garb, and before entering Meccah, �Ghusl,� or total ablution, should be performed; but if water be not procurable, the Tayammum, or sand ablution, suffices. The pilgrim should enter the Holy City by day and on foot. When his glance falls upon the Ka�abah he should say, �O Allah, increase this (Thy) house in degree, and greatness, and honour, and awfulness, and increase all those who have honoured it and glorified it, the Hajis and the Mutamirs (Umrah-performers), with degree, and greatness, and honour, and dignity!� Entering the outer Bab al-Salam, he must exclaim, �O Allah, Thou art the Safety, and from Thee is the Safety!� And then passing into the Mosque, he should repair to the �Black Stone,� touch it with his right hand, kiss it, and commence his circumambulation.[FN#19] [p.286]�Now, the victims of Al-Ihram are five in number, viz.:� �1. The �Victim of Requisites,� when a pilgrim accidentally or willingly omits to perform a requisite, such as the assumption of the pilgrim garb at the proper place. This victim is a sheep, sacrificed at the id al-Kurban (in addition to the usual offering),[FN#20] or, in lieu of it, ten days� fast�three of them in the Hajj season (viz. on the 6th, 7th, and 8th days of Zu�l Hijjah) and seven after returning home. �2. The �Victim of Luxuries,� (Turfah), such as shaving the head or using perfumes. This is a sheep, or a three days� fast, or alms, consisting of three sa�a measures of grain, distributed among six paupers. �3. The �Victim of suddenly returning to Laical Life�; that is to say, before the proper time. It is also a sheep, after the sacrifice of which the pilgrim shaves his head. �4. The �Victim of killing Game.� If the animal slain be one for which the tame equivalents be procurable (a camel for an ostrich, a cow for a wild ass or cow, and a goat for a gazelle), the pilgrim should sacrifice it, or distribute its value, or purchase with it grain for the poor, or fast one day for each �Mudd� measure. If the equivalent be not procurable, the offender must buy its value of grain for alms-deeds, or fast a day for every measure. �5. The �Victim of Incontinence.� This offering is either a male or a female camel[FN#21]; these failing, a cow or seven sheep, or the value of a camel in grain distributed to the poor, or a day�s fast for each measure.� Section II.�Of Tawaf, or Circumambulation. �Of this ceremony there are five Wajibat, or requisites, viz.:�Concealing �the shame,[FN#22]� as in prayer. Ceremonial purity of body, garments, and place. Circumambulation inside the Mosque. Seven circuits of the house. Commencement of circuit from the Black Stone. Circumambulating the house with the left shoulder presented to it. Circuiting the house outside its Shazarwan, or marble basement.[FN#23] And, lastly, the [p.287] Niyat, or intention of Tawaf, specifying whether it be for Hajj or for Umrah. �Of the same ceremony the principal Sunnat, or practices, are to walk on foot; to touch, kiss, and place his forehead upon the Black Stone, if possible after each circuit to place the hand upon the Rukn al-Yamani (South corner), but not to kiss it; to pray during each circuit for what is best for man (pardon of sins); to quote lengthily from the Koran,[FN#24] and to often say, �Subhan Allah!� and to mention none but Allah; to walk slowly, during the first three circuits, and trotting the last four,[FN#25] all the while maintaining a humble and contrite demeanour, with downcast eyes. �The following are the prayers which have descended to us by tradition:� �When touching the Black Stone the pilgrim says,[FN#26] after Niyat, �In the name of Allah, and Allah is omnipotent! O Allah (I do this) in Thy belief and in verification of Thy book, and in faithfulness to Thy covenant, and in pursuance of the example of Thy Prophet Mohammed�may Allah bless Him and preserve!� �Opposite the door of the house: �O Allah, verily the House is Thy House, and the Sanctuary thy Sanctuary, and the Safeguard Thy Safeguard, and this is the place of the Fugitive to flee from Hell-fire!� �Arrived at the Rukn al-Iraki (North corner): �O Allah, verily I take refuge with Thee from Polytheism (Shirk), and Disobedience, and Hypocrisy, and Evil Conversation, and Evil Thoughts concerning Family (Ahl, �a wife�), and Property, and Progeny!� �Parallel with the Mizab, or rain-spout: �O Allah, shadow me in Thy Shadow that day when there is no shade but Thy Shadow, and cause me to drink from the Cup of Thy Prophet Mohammed�may Allah bless Him and preserve!�that pleasant Draught after which is no thirst to all eternity, O Lord of Honour and Glory!� RESUME [p.288]�At the corners Al-Shami and Al-Yamani (West and South angles): �O Allah, make it an Acceptable Pilgrimage, and the Forgiveness of Sins, and a Laudable Endeavour, and a Pleasant Action in Thy Sight, and a Store that perisheth not, O Thou Glorious! O Thou Pardoner!�[FN#27] �And between the Southern and Eastern corners: �O Lord, grant to us in this World Prosperity, and in the next World Prosperity, and save us from the Punishment of Fire!� �After the sevenfold circumambulation the pilgrim should recite a two-bow prayer, the �Sunnat of Tawaf,� behind the Makam Ibrahim. If unable to pray there, he may take any other part of the Mosque. These devotions are performed silently by day and aloud by night. And after prayer the pilgrim should return to the Black Stone, and kiss it.� Section III.�Of Sai, or Course between Mounts Safa and Marwah. �After performing Tawaf, the pilgrim should issue from the gate �Al-Safa� (or another, if necessary), and ascend the steps of Mount Safa, about a man�s height from the street.[FN#28] There he raises the cry Takbir, and implores pardon for his sins. He then descends, and turns towards Mount Marwah at a slow pace. Arrived within six cubits of the Mil al-Akhzar (the �green pillar,� planted in the corner of the temple on the left hand), he runs swiftly till he reaches the �two green pillars,� the left one of which is fixed in the corner of the temple, and the other close to the Dar al-Abbas.[FN#29] Thence he again walks slowly up to Marwah, and ascends it as he did Safa. This concludes a single course. The pilgrim then starts from Marwah, and walks, runs, and walks again through the same limits, till the seventh course is concluded. �There are four requisites of Sai. The pilgrim must pass over all the space between Safa and Marwah; he must begin with Safa, and end with Marwah; he must traverse the distance seven times; and he must perform the rite after some important Tawaf, as that of arrival, or that of return from Arafat. �The practices of Sai are, briefly, to walk, if possible, to [p.289] be in a state of ceremonial purity, to quote lengthily from the Koran, and to be abundant in praise of Allah. �The prayer of Sai is, �O my Lord, Pardon and Pity, and pass over that (Sin) which Thou knowest. Verily Thou knowest what is not known, and verily Thou art the most Glorious, the most Generous! O, our Lord, grant us in this World Prosperity, and in the Future Prosperity, and save us from the Punishment of Fire! �When Sai is concluded, the pilgrim, if performing only Umrah, shaves his head, or clips his hair, and becomes �Muhill,� returning to the Moslem�s normal state. If he purpose Hajj, or pilgrimage after Umrah, he re-assumes the Ihram. And if he be engaged in pilgrimage, he continues �Muhrim,� i.e., in Ihram, as before.� Section IV.�Of Wukuf, or standing upon Mount Arafat. �The days of pilgrimage are three in number: namely, the 8th, the 9th, and the 10th of the month Zu�l Hijjah.[FN#30] �On the first day (8th), called Yaum al-Tarwiyah, the pilgrim should start from Meccah after the dawn-prayer and sunrise, perform his noontide, afternoon, and evening devotions at Muna, where it is a Sunnat that he should sleep.[FN#31] [p.290]�On the second day (9th), the �Yaum Arafat,� after performing the early prayer at �Ghalas� (i.e. when a man cannot see his neighbour�s face) on Mount Sabir, near Muna, the pilgrim should start when the sun is risen, proceed to the �Mountain of Mercy,� encamp there, and after performing the noontide and afternoon devotions at Masjid Ibrahim,[FN#32] joining and shortening them,[FN#33] he should take his station upon the mountain, which is all standing ground. But the best position is that preferred by the Prophet, near the great rocks lying at the lower slope of Arafat. He must be present at the sermon,[FN#34] and be abundant in Talbiyat (supplication), Tahlil (recitations of the chapter �Say he is the one God!�[FN#35]), and weeping, for that is the place for the outpouring of tears. There he should stay till sunset, and then decamp and return hastily to Muzdalifah, where he should pass a portion of the night.[FN#36] After a visit to the Mosque �Mashr al-Harim,� he should collect seven pebbles and proceed to Muna.[FN#37] �Yaum al-Nahr, the third day of the pilgrimage (10th Zu�l Hijjah), is the great festival of the Moslem year. Amongst [p.291] its many names,[FN#38] �id al-Kurban� is the best known, as expressive of Ibrahim�s sacrifice in lieu of Ismail. Most pilgrims, after casting stones at the Akabah, or �Great Devil,� hurry to Meccah. Some enter the Ka�abah, whilst others content themselves with performing the Tawaf al-Ifazah, or circumambulation of impetuosity, round the house.[FN#39] The pilgrim should then return to Muna, sacrifice a sheep, and sleep there. Strictly speaking, this day concludes the pilgrimage. �The second set of �trois jours,� namely, the 11th,[FN#40] the 12th, and the 13th of Zu�l Hijjah, are called Ayyam al-Tashrik, or the �days of drying flesh in the sun.� The pilgrim should spend that time at Muna,[FN#41] and each day throw seven pebbles at each of the three pillars.[FN#42] �When throwing the stones, it is desirable that the pilgrim should cast them far from himself, although he is allowed to place them upon the pillar. The act also should be performed after the Zawal, or declension of the sun. The pilgrim should begin with the pillar near the Masjid al-Khayf, proceed to the Wusta, or central column, and end with the Akabah. If unable to cast the stones during the daytime, he is allowed to do it at night. �The �throwing� over:�The pilgrim returns to Meccah, and when his journey is fixed, performs the Tawaf al-Wida�a (�of farewell�). On this occasion it is a Sunnat to drink the waters of Zemzem, to enter the temple with more than usual [p.292] respect and reverence, and bidding it adieu, to depart from the Holy City. �The Moslem is especially forbidden to take with him cakes made of the earth or dust of the Harim, and similar mementoes, as they savour of idolatry.� CHAPTER II.�OF UMRAH, OR THE LITTLE PILGRIMAGE. �The word �Umrah,� denotes a pilgrimage performed at any time except the pilgrim season (the 8th, 9th, and 10th of Zu�l Hijjah). �The Arkan or pillars upon which the Umrah rite rests, are five in number, viz.:� �1. Al-Ihram. �2. Al-Tawaf. �3. Al-Sai (between Safa and Marwah). �4. Al-Halk (tonsure), or Al-Taksir (cutting the hair). �5. Al-Tartib, or the due order of ceremonies, as above enumerated.[FN#43] �The Wajibat, or requisites of Umrah, are but two in number:� �1. Al-Ihram, or assuming the pilgrim garb, from the Mikat, or fixed limit; and �2. The avoiding of all things forbidden to the pilgrim when in state of Ihram. �In the Sunnat and Mustahabb portions of the ceremony there is no difference between Umrah and Hajj.� CHAPTER III.�OF ZIYARAT, OR THE VISIT TO THE PROPHET�S TOMB. �Al-Ziyarat is a practice of the faith, and the most effectual way of drawing near to Allah through his Prophet Mohammed. �As the Zair arrives at Al-Madinah, when his eyes fall upon the trees of the city, he must bless the Prophet with a loud voice. Then he should enter the Mosque, and sit in the Holy Garden, which is between the pulpit and the tomb, and pray a two-bow prayer in honour of the Masjid. After this he should supplicate pardon for his sins. Then, approaching [p.293] the sepulchre, and standing four cubits away from it, recite this prayer:� ��Peace be with Thee, O Thou T.H. and Y.S.,[FN#44] Peace be with Thee, and upon Thy Descendants, and Thy Companions, one and all, and upon all the Prophets, and those inspired to instruct Mankind. And I bear witness that Thou hast delivered thy Message, and performed Thy Trust, and advised Thy followers, and swept away Darkness, and fought in Allah�s Path the good Fight: may Allah requite Thee from us the Best with which he ever requited Prophet from his Followers!� �Let the visitor stand the while before the tomb with respect, and reverence, and singleness of mind, and fear, and awe. After which, let him retreat one cubit, and salute Abu Bakr the Truthful in these words:� ��Peace be with Thee, O Caliph of Allah�s Prophet over his People, and Aider in the Defence of His Faith!� �After this, again retreating another cubit, let him bless in the same way Omar the Just. After which, returning to his former station opposite the Prophet�s tomb, he should implore intercession for himself and for all dearest to him. He should not neglect to visit the Bakia Cemetery and the Kuba Mosque, where he should pray for himself and for his brethren of the Muslimin, and the Muslimat, the Muminin and the Muminat,[FN#45] the quick of them and the dead. When ready to depart, let the Zair take leave of the Mosque with a two-bow prayer, and visit the tomb, and salute it, and again beg intercession for himself and for those he loves. And the Zair is forbidden to circumambulate the tomb, or to carry away the cakes of clay made by the ignorant with the earth and dust of the Harim.� [FN#1] M. Huc�s �Travels in Tartary.� [FN#2] The two extremes, between which lie many gradations, are these. Abu Hanifah directs every Moslem and Moslemah to perform the pilgrimage if they have health and money for the road and for the support of their families; moreover, he allows a deputy-pilgrim, whose expenses must be paid by the principal. Ibn Malik, on the contrary, enjoins every follower to visit Meccah, if able to walk, and to earn his bread on the way. As a general rule, in Al-Islam there are four Shurut al-Wujub, or necessary conditions, viz.:� 1. Islam, the being a Moslem. 2. Bulugh, adolescence. 3. Hurriyat, the being a free man. 4. Akl, or mental sanity. Other authorities increase the conditions to eight, viz.:� 5. Wujud al-Zad, sufficiency of provision. 6. Al-Rahlah, having a beast of burthen, if living two days� journey from Meccah. 7. Takhliyat al-Tarik, the road being open; and 8. Imkan al-Masir, the being able to walk two stages, if the pilgrim hath no beast. Others, again, include all conditions under two heads:� 1. Sihhat, health. 2. Istita�at, ability. These subjects have exercised not a little the casuistic talents of the Arab doctors: a folio volume might be filled with differences of opinion on the subject, �Is a blind man sound?� [FN#3] The technical meaning of these words will be explained below. [FN#4] At any other time of the year Ihram is considered Makruh, or objectionable, without being absolutely sinful. [FN#5] In other books the following directions are given to the intended pilgrim:�Before leaving home he must pray two prostrations, concluding the orisons with a long supplication and blessings upon relatives, friends, and neighbours, and he must distribute not fewer than seven silver pieces to the poor. The day should be either a Thursday or a Saturday; some, however, say �Allah hath honoured the Monday and the Thursday.� If possible, the first of the month should be chosen, and the hour early dawn. Moreover, the pilgrim should not start without a Rafik, or companion, who should be a pious as well as a travelled man. The other Mukaddamat al-Safar, or preambles to journeying, are the following. Istikharah, consulting the rosary and friends. Khulus al-Niyat, vowing pilgrimage to the Lord (not for lucre or revenge). Settling worldly affairs, paying debts, drawing up a will, and making arrangements for the support of one�s family. Hiring animals from a pious person. The best monture is a camel, because preferred by the Prophet; an ass is not commendable; a man should not walk if he can afford to ride; and the palanquin or litter is, according to some doctors, limited to invalids. Reciting long prayers when mounting, halting, dismounting, and at nightfall. On hills the Takbir should be used: the Tasbih is properest for vales and plains; and Meccah should be blessed when first sighted. Avoiding abuse, curses, or quarrels. Sleeping like the Prophet, namely, in early night (when prayer-hour is distant), with �Iftirash,� or lying at length with the right cheek on the palm of the dexter hand; and near dawn with �Ittaka,� i.e. propping the head upon the hand, with the arm resting upon the elbow. And, lastly, travelling with collyrium-pot, looking-glass and comb, needle and thread for sewing, scissors and tooth-stick, staff and razor. [FN#6] In the Shafe�i school there is little difference between Al-Farz and Al-Wajib. In the Hanafi the former is a superior obligation to the latter. [FN#7] The Hanafi, Maliki, and even some Shafe�i doctors, reduce the number from six to four, viz.:� 1. Ihram, with �Niyat.� 2. Tawaf. 3. Wukuf. 4. Sai. [FN#8] The Ifazah is the impetuous descent from Mount Arafat. Its Tawaf, generally called Tawaf al-Ziyarat, less commonly Tawaf al-Sadr or Tawaf al-Nuzul, is that performed immediately after throwing the stones and resuming the laical dress on the victim-day at Mount Muna. [FN#9] Shaving is better for men, cutting for women. A razor must be passed over the bald head; but it is sufficient to burn, pluck, shave, or clip three hairs when the chevelure is long. [FN#10] The known Mikat are: North, Zu�l Halifah; North-East, Karn al-Manazil; North-West, Al-Juhfah ([Arabic]) South, Yalamlam; East, Zat Irk. [FN#11] This Tawaf is described in chapter v. [FN#12] Generally speaking, as will afterwards be shown, the pilgrims pass straight through Muzdalifah, and spend the night at Muna. [FN#13] The �Tawaf al-Wida�a� is considered a solemn occasion. The pilgrim first performs circumambulation. He drinks the waters of Zemzem, kisses the Ka�abah threshold, and stands for some time with his face and body pressed against the Multazem. There, on clinging to the curtain of the Ka�abah, he performs Takbir, Tahlil, Tahmid, and blesses the Prophet, weeping, if possible, but certainly groaning. He then leaves the Mosque, backing out of it with tears and lamentations, till he reaches the �Bab al-Wida�a,� whence, with a parting glance at the Bayt Ullah, he wends his way home. [FN#14] See chapter v. [FN#15] Many pronounce this Niyat. If intending to perform pilgrimage, the devotee, standing, before prayer says, �I vow this intention of Hajj to Allah the most High.� [FN#16] In spite of this interdiction, pilgrims generally, for convenience, knot their shoulder-clothes under the right arm. [FN#17] Hunting, killing, or maiming beasts in Sanctuary land and cutting down trees, are acts equally forbidden to the Muhrim and the Muhill (the Moslem in his normal state). For a large tree a camel, for a small one a sheep, must be sacrificed. [FN#18] See chapter v. After the �Talbiyat� the pilgrim should bless the Prophet, and beg from Allah paradise and protection from hell, saying, �O Allah, by thy mercy spare us from the pains of hell-fire!� [FN#19] Most of these injunctions are �meritorious,� and may therefore [be] omitted without prejudice to the ceremony. [FN#20] Namely, the victim sacrificed on the great festival day at Muna. [FN#21] So the commentators explain �Badanah.� [FN#22] A man�s �Aurat� is from the navel to the knee; in the case of a free woman the whole of her face and person are �shame.� [FN#23] If the pilgrim place but his hand upon the Shazarwan, or on the Hijr, the Tawaf is nullified. [FN#24] This is a purely Shafe�i practice; the Hanafi school rejects it on the grounds that the Word of God should not be repeated when walking or running. [FN#25] The reader will observe (chapter v.), that the Mutawwif made me reverse this order of things. [FN#26] It is better to recite these prayers mentally; but as few pilgrims know them by heart, they are obliged to repeat the words of the cicerone. [FN#27] This portion is to be recited twice. [FN#28] A woman, or a hermaphrodite, is enjoined to stand below the steps and in the street. [FN#29] Women and hermaphrodites should not run here, but walk the whole way. I have frequently, however, seen the former imitating the men. [FN#30] The Arab legend is, that the angels asking the Almighty why Ibrahim was called Al-Khalil (or God�s friend); they were told that all his thoughts were fixed on heaven; and when they called to mind that he had a wife and child, Allah convinced them of the Patriarch�s sanctity by a trial. One night Ibrahim saw, in a vision, a speaker, who said to him, �Allah orders thee to draw near him with a victim!� He awoke, and not comprehending the scope of the dream, took especial notice of it ([Arabic]); hence the first day of pilgrimage is called Yaum al-Tarwiyah. The same speaker visited him on the next night, saying, �Sacrifice what is dearest to thee!� From the Patriarch�s knowing ([Arabic]) what the first vision meant, the second day is called Yaum Arafat. On the third night he was ordered to sacrifice Ismail; hence that day is called Yaum Nahr (of �throat-cutting�). The English reader will bear in mind that the Moslem day begins at sunset. I believe that the origin of �Tarwiyat� (which may mean �carrying water�) dates from the time of pagan Arabs, who spent that day in providing themselves with the necessary. Yaum Arafat derives its name from the hill, and Yaum al-Nahr from the victims offered to the idols in the Muna valley. [FN#31] The present generation of pilgrims, finding the delay inconvenient, always pass on to Arafat without halting, and generally arrive at the mountain late in the afternoon of the 8th, that is to say, the first day of pilgrimage. Consequently, they pray the morning prayer of the 9th at Arafat. [FN#32] This place will be described afterwards. [FN#33] The Shafe�i when engaged on a journey which takes up a night and day, is allowed to shorten his prayers, and to �join� the noon with the afternoon, and the evening with the night devotions; thus reducing the number of times from five to three per diem. The Hanafi school allows this on one day and on one occasion only, namely, on the ninth of Zu�l Hijjah (arriving at Muzdalifah), when at the �Isha� hour it prays the Magh[r]ib and the Isha prayers together. [FN#34] If the pilgrim be too late for the sermon, his labour is irretrievably lost.�M. Caussin de Perceval (vol. iii. pp. 301-305) makes the Prophet to have preached from his camel Al-Kaswa on a platform at Mount Arafat before noon, and to have again addressed the people after the post-meridian prayers at the station Al-Sakharat. Mohammed�s last pilgrimage, called by Moslems Hajjat al-Bilagh (�of perfection,� as completing the faith), Hajjat al-Islam, or Hajjat al-Wida�a (�of farewell�), is minutely described by historians as the type and pattern of pilgrimage to all generations. [FN#35] Ibn Abbas relates a tradition, that whoever recites this short chapter 11,000 times on the Arafat day, shall obtain from Allah all he desires. [FN#36] Most schools prefer to sleep, as the Prophet did, at Muzdalifah, pray the night devotions there, and when the yellowness of the next dawn appears, collect the seven pebbles and proceed to Muna. The Shafe�i, however, generally leave Muzdalifah about midnight. [FN#37] These places will be minutely described in a future chapter. [FN#38] id al-Kurban, or the Festival of Victims (known to the Turks as Kurban Bayram, to the Indians as Bakar-id, the Kine Fete), id al-Zuha, �of forenoon,� or id al-Azha, �of serene night.� The day is called Yaum al-Nahr, �of throat-cutting.� [FN#39] If the ceremony of �Sai� has not been performed by the pilgrim after the circuit of arrival, he generally proceeds to it on this occasion. [FN#40] This day is known in books as �Yaum al-Karr,� because the pilgrims pass it in repose at Muna. [FN#41] �The days of drying flesh,� because at this period pilgrims prepare provisions for their return, by cutting up their victims, and exposing to the sun large slices slung upon long lines of cord. The schools have introduced many modifications into the ceremonies of these three days. Some spend the whole time at Muna, and return to Meccah on the morning of the 13th. Others return on the 12th, especially when that day happens to fall upon a Friday. [FN#42] As will afterwards appear, the number of stones and the way of throwing them vary greatly in the various schools. [FN#43] The difference in the pillars of Umrah and Hajj, is that in the former the standing on Arafat and the Tawaf al-Ifazah are necessarily omitted. [FN#44] The 20th and 36th chapters of the Koran. [FN#45] These second words are the feminines of the first; they prove that the Moslem is not above praying for what Europe supposed he did not believe in, namely, the souls of women. [p.294] APPENDIX II. THE BAYT ULLAH. THE House of Allah[FN#1] has been so fully described by my predecessors, that there is little inducement to attempt a new portrait. Readers, however, may desire a view of the great sanctuary, and, indeed, without a plan and its explanation, the ceremonies of the Harim would be scarcely intelligible. I will do homage to the memory of the accurate Burckhardt, and extract from his pages a description which shall be illustrated by a few notes. �The Kaabah stands in an oblong square (enclosed by a great wall) 250 paces long, and 200 broad,[FN#2] none of the sides of which runs quite in a straight line, though at first sight the whole appears to be of a regular shape. This open square is enclosed on the eastern side by a colonnade. The pillars stand in a quadruple row; they are three deep on the other sides, and are united by pointed arches, every four of which support a small dome plastered and whitened on the outside. These domes, according to Kotobeddyn, are 152 in number.[FN#3] The [p.295] pillars are above twenty feet in height, and generally from one foot and a half to one foot and three quarters in diameter; but little regularity has been observed in regard to them. Some are of white marble, granite or porphyry; but the greater number are of common stone of the Meccah mountains.[FN#4] El Fasy states the whole at 589, and says they are all of marble excepting 126, which are of common stone, and three of composition. Kotobeddyn reckons 555, of which, according to him, 311 are of marble, and the rest of the stone taken from the neighbouring mountains; but neither of these authors lived to see the latest repairs of the Mosque, after the destruction occasioned by a torrent in A.D. 1626.[FN#5] Between every three or four column stands an octagonal one, about four feet in thickness. On the east side are two shafts of reddish grey granite in one piece, and one fine grey porphyry with slabs of white feldspath. On the north side is one red granite column, and one of fine-grained red porphyry; these are probably the columns which Kotobeddyn states to have been brought from Egypt, and [p.296] principally from Akhmim (Panopolis), when the chief (Caliph) El Mohdy enlarged the Mosque in A.H. 163. Among the 450 or 500 columns which form the enclosure I found not any two capitals or bases exactly alike. The capitals are of coarse Saracen workmanship; some of them, which had served for former buildings, by the ignorance of the workmen, have been placed upside down upon the shafts. I observed about half a dozen marble bases of good Grecian workmanship. A few of the marble columns bear Arabic or Cufic inscriptions, in which I read the dates 863 and 762 (A.H.).[FN#6] A column on the east side exhibits a very ancient Cufic inscription, somewhat defaced, which I could neither read nor copy. Some of the columns are strengthened with broad iron rings or bands,[FN#7] as in many other Saracen buildings of the East. They were first employed by Ibn Dhaher Berkouk, king of Egypt, in rebuilding the Mosque, which had been destroyed by fire in A.H. 802.[FN#8]� �Some parts of the walls and arches are gaudily painted in stripes of yellow, red, and blue, as are also the minarets. Paintings of flowers, in the usual Muselman [p.297] style, are nowhere seen; the floors of the colonnades are paved with large stones badly cemented together.� �Some paved causeways lead from the colonnades towards the Kaabah, or Holy House, in the centre.[FN#9] They are of sufficient breadth to admit four or five persons to walk abreast, and they are elevated about nine inches above the ground. Between these causeways, which are covered with fine gravel or sand, grass appears growing in several places, produced by the Zem Zem water oozing out of the jars which are placed in the ground in long rows during the day.[FN#10] There is a descent of eight or ten steps from the gates on the north side into the platform of the colonnade, and of three or four steps from the gates on the south side.� �Towards the middle of this area stands the Kaabah; it is 115 paces from the north colonnade, and 88 from the south. For this want of symmetry we may readily account, the Kaabah having existed prior to the Mosque, which was built around it, and enlarged at different periods. The Kaabah is an oblong massive structure, 18 paces in length, 14 in breadth, and from 35 to 40 feet in height.[FN#11] It is constructed of the grey Mekka stone, in large blocks of different sizes joined together, in a very [p.298] rough manner, with bad cement.[FN#12] It was entirely rebuilt, as it now stands, in A.D. 1627. The torrent in the preceding year had thrown down three of its sides, and, preparatory to its re-erection, the fourth side was, according to Asamy, pulled down, after the Olemas, or learned divines, had been consulted on the question whether mortals might be permitted to destroy any part of the holy edifice without incurring the charge of sacrilege and infidelity.� �The Kaabah stands upon a base two feet in height, which presents a sharp inclined plane.[FN#13] Its roof being flat, it has at a distance the appearance of a perfect cube.[FN#14] The only door which affords entrance, and which is opened but two or three times in the year,[FN#15] is on the [p.299] north side and about seven feet above the ground.[FN#16] In the first periods of Islam, however, when it was rebuilt in A.H. 64 by Ibn Zebeyr (Zubayr), chief of Mecca, it had two doors even with the ground floor of the Mosque.[FN#17] [p.300] The present door (which, according to Azraky, was brought hither from Constantinople in A.D. 1633), is wholly coated with silver, and has several gilt ornaments; upon its threshold are placed every night various small lighted wax candles, and perfuming pans, filled with musk, aloe-wood, &c.[FN#18]� �At the north-east[FN#19] corner of the Kaabah, near the door, is the famous �Black Stone�[FN#20]; it forms a part of the [for p.301, see footnote 20] [p.302] sharp angle of the building,[FN#21] at four or five feet above the ground.[FN#22] It is an irregular oval, about seven inches in diameter, with an undulating surface, composed of about a dozen smaller stones of different sizes and shapes, well joined together with a small quantity of cement, and perfectly well smoothed: it looks as if the whole had been broken into many pieces by a violent blow, and then united again. It is very difficult to determine accurately the quality of this stone, which has been worn to its present surface by the million touches and kisses it has received. It appeared to me like a lava, containing several small extraneous particles of a whitish and of a yellowish substance. Its colour is now a deep reddish brown, approaching to black. It is surrounded on all sides by a border composed of a substance which I took to be a close cement [p.303] of pitch and gravel of a similar, but not quite the same, brownish colour.[FN#23] This border serves to support its detached pieces; it is two or three inches in breadth, and rises a little above the surface of the stone. Both the border and the stone itself are encircled by a silver band,[FN#24] broader below than above, and on the two sides, with a considerable swelling below, as if a part of the stone were hidden under it. The lower part of the border is studded with silver nails.� �In the south-east corner of the Kaabah,[FN#25] or, as the Arab call it, Rokn al-Yemany, there is another stone about five feet from the ground; it is one foot and a half in length, and two inches in breadth, placed upright, and of the common Meccah stone. This the people walking round the Kaabah touch only with the right hand; they do not kiss it.[FN#26]� [p.304] �On the north side of the Kaabah, just by its door,[FN#27] and close to the wall, is a slight hollow in the ground, lined with marble, and sufficiently large to admit of three persons sitting. Here it is thought meritorious to pray: the spot is called El Maajan, and supposed to be where Abraham and his son Ismail kneaded the chalk and mud which they used in building the Kaabah; and near this Maajan the former is said to have placed the large stone upon which he stood while working at the masonry. On the basis of the Kaabah, just over the Maajan, is an ancient Cufic inscription; but this I was unable to decipher, and had no opportunity of copying it.� �On the west (north-west) side of the Kaabah, about two feet below its summit, is the famous Myzab, or water-spout,[FN#28] through which the rain-water collected on the roof of the building is discharged, so as to fall upon the ground; it is about four feet in length, and six inches in breadth, as well as I could judge from below, with borders equal in height to its breadth. At the [p.305] mouth hangs what is called the beard of the Myzab; a gilt board, over which the water flows. This spout was sent hither from Constantinople in A.H. 981, and is reported to be of pure gold. The pavement round the Kaabah, below the Myzab, was laid down in A.H. 826, and consists of various coloured stones, forming a very handsome specimen of mosaic. There are two large slabs of fine verdi antico[FN#29] in the centre, which, according to Makrizi, were sent thither, as presents from Cairo, in A.H. 241. This is the spot where, according to Mohammedan tradition, Ismayl the son of Ibrahim, and his mother Hajirah are buried; and here it is meritorious for the pilgrim to recite a prayer of two Rikats. On this side is a semicircular wall, the two extremities of which are in a line with the sides of the Kaabah, and distant from it three or four feet,[FN#30] leaving an opening, which leads to the burial-place of Ismayl. The wall bears the name of El Hatym[FN#31]; and the area [p.306] which it encloses is called Hedjer or Hedjer Ismayl,[FN#32] on account of its being separated from the Kaabah: the wall itself also is sometimes so called.� �Tradition says that the Kaabah once extended as far as the Hatym, and that this side having fallen down just at the time of the Hadj, the expenses of repairing it were demanded from the pilgrims, under a pretence that the revenues of government were not acquired in a manner sufficiently pure to admit of their application towards a purpose so sacred. The sum, however, obtained, proved very inadequate; all that could be done, therefore, was to raise a wall, which marked the space formerly occupied by the Kaabah. This tradition, although current among the Metowefs (cicerones) is at variance with history; which declares that the Hedjer was built by the Beni Koreish, who contracted the dimensions of the Kaabah; that it was united to the building by Hadjadj,[FN#33] and again separated from it by Ibn Zebeyr. It is asserted by Fasy, that a part of the Hedjer as it now stands was never comprehended within the Kaabah. The law regards it as a portion of the Kaabah, inasmuch as it is esteemed equally meritorious to pray in the Hedjer as in the Kaabah itself; and the pilgrims who have not an opportunity of entering the latter are permitted to affirm upon oath that they have prayed in the Kaabah, although they have only prostrated themselves within the enclosure of the Hatym. The wall is built of solid stone, about five feet in height, and four in thickness, cased all over with white marble, and inscribed with prayers and invocations [p.307] neatly sculptured upon the stone in modern characters.[FN#34] These and the casing are the work of El Ghoury, the Egyptian sultan, in A.H. 917. The walk round the Kaabah is performed on the outside of the wall�the nearer to it the better.� �Round the Kaabah is a good pavement of marble[FN#35] about eight inches below the level of the great square; it was laid in A.H. 981, by order of the sultan, and describes an irregular oval; it is surrounded by thirty-two slender gilt pillars, or rather poles, between every two of which are suspended seven glass lamps, always lighted after sunset.[FN#36] Beyond the poles is a second pavement, about eight paces broad, somewhat elevated above the first, but of coarser work; then another six inches higher, and eighteen paces broad, upon which stand several small buildings; beyond this is the gravelled ground; so that two broad steps may be said to lead from the square down to the Kaabah. The small buildings just mentioned which surround the Kaabah are the five Makams,[FN#37] with the well [p.308] of Zem Zem, the arch called Bab es Salam, and the Mambar.� �Opposite the four sides of the Kaabah stand four other small buildings, where the Imaums of the orthodox Mohammedan sects, the Hanefy, Shafey, Hanbaly, and Maleky take their station, and guide the congregation in their prayers. The Makam el Maleky on the south, and that of Hanbaly opposite the Black Stone, are small pavilions open on all sides, and supported by four slender pillars, with a light sloping roof, terminating in a point, exactly in the style of Indian pagodas.[FN#38] The Makam el Hanafy, which is the largest, being fifteen paces by eight, is open on all sides, and supported by twelve small pillars; it has an upper story, also open, where the Mueddin who calls to prayers takes his stand. This was built in A.H. 923, by Sultan Selim I.; it was afterwards rebuilt by Khoshgeldy, governor of Djidda, in 947; but all the four Makams, as they now stand, were built in A.H. 1074. The Makam-es�-Shafey is over the well Zem Zem, to which it serves as an upper chamber.[FN#39]� �Near their respective Makams the adherents of the four different sects seat themselves for prayers. During my stay at Meccah the Hanefys always began their prayer first; but, according to Muselman custom, the Shafeys should pray first in the Mosque; then the Hanefys, Malekys, and Hanbalys. The prayer of the Maghreb is an exception, which they are all enjoined to utter together.[FN#40] [p.309] The Makam el Hanbaly is the place where the officers of government and other great people are seated during prayers: here the Pasha and the sheriff are placed, and in their absence the eunuchs of the temple. These fill the space under this Makam in front, and behind it the female Hadjys who visit the temple have their places assigned, to which they repair principally for the two evening prayers, few of them being seen in the Mosque at the three other daily prayers: they also perform the Towaf, or walk round the Kaabah, but generally at night, though it is not uncommon to see them walking in the day-time among the men.� �The present building which encloses Zem Zem stands close by the Makam Hanbaly, and was erected in A.H. 1072: it is of a square shape, and of massive construction, with an entrance to the north,[FN#41] opening into the room which contains the well. This room is beautifully ornamented with marbles of various colours; and adjoining to it, but having a separate door, is a small room with a stone reservoir, which is always full of Zem Zem water. This the Hadjys get to drink by passing their hand with a cup through an iron grated opening, which serves as a window, into the reservoir, without entering the room. The mouth of the well is surrounded by a wall five feet in height and about ten feet [i]n diameter. Upon this the people stand who draw up the water in leathern buckets, an iron railing being so placed as to [p.310] prevent their falling in. In El Fasy�s time there were eight marble basins in this room, for the purpose of ablution.� �On the north-east (south-east) side of Zem Zem stand two small buildings, one behind the other,[FN#42] called El Kobbateyn; they are covered by domes painted in the same manner as the Mosque, and in them are kept water-jars, lamps, carpets, mats, brooms, and other articles used in the very Mosque.[FN#43] These two ugly buildings are injurious to the interior appearance of the building, their heavy forms and structure being very disadvantageously contrasted with the light and airy shape of the Makams. I heard some Hadjys from Greece, men of better taste than the Arabs, express their regret that the Kobbateyn should be allowed to disfigure the Mosque. They were built by Khoshgeldy, governor of Djidda A.H. 947; one is called Kobbet el Abbas, from having been placed on the site of a small tank said to have been formed by Abbas, the uncle of Mohammed.� [p.311] �A few paces west (north-west) of Zem Zem, and directly opposite to the door of the Kaabah, stands a ladder or staircase,[FN#44] which is moved up to the wall of the Kaabah on days when that building is opened, and by which the visitors ascend to the door. It is of wood, with some carved ornaments, moves on low wheels, and is sufficiently broad to admit of four persons ascending abreast. The first ladder was sent hither from Cairo in A.H. 818 by Moyaed Abou el Naser, King of Egypt.� �In the same line with the ladder and close by it stands a lightly built insulated and circular arch, about fifteen feet wide, and eighteen feet high, called Bab es� Salam, which must not be confounded with the great gate of the Mosque, bearing the same name. Those who enter the Bait Ullah for the first time are enjoined to do so by the outer and inner Bab-es-Salam; in passing under the latter they are to exclaim, �O God, may it be a happy entrance.� I do not know by whom this arch was built, but it appears to be modern.[FN#45]� �Nearly in front of the Bab-es-Salam and nearer the Kaabah than any of the other surrounding buildings, stand[s] the Makam Ibrahim.[FN#46] This is a small building supported by six pillars about eight feet high, four of which are surrounded from top to bottom by a fine iron railing, while they leave the space beyond the two hind pillars open; within the railing is a frame about five feet square, terminating in a pyramidal top, and said to contain the sacred stone upon which Ibrahim stood when he built the Kaabah, and which with the help of his son Ismayl he had removed from hence to the place [p.312] called Maajen, already mentioned. The stone is said to have yielded under the weight of the Patriarch, and to preserve the impression of his foot still visible upon it; but no hadjy has ever seen it,[FN#47] as the frame is always entirely covered with a brocade of red silk richly embroidered. Persons are constantly seen before the railing invoking the good offices of Ibrahim; and a short prayer must be uttered by the side of the Makam after the walk round the Kaabah is completed. It is said that many of the Sahaba, or first adherents of Mohammed, were interred in the open space between this Makam and Zem Zem[FN#48]; from which circumstance it is one of the most [p.313] favourite places of prayers in the Mosque. In this part of the area the Khalif Soleyman Ibn Abd el Melek, brother of Wolyd (Al-Walid), built a fine reservoir in A.H. 97, which was filled from a spring east of Arafat[FN#49]; but the Mekkawys destroyed it after his death, on the pretence that the water of Zem Zem was preferable.� �On the side of Makam Ibrahim, facing the middle part of the front of the Kaabah, stands the Mambar, or pulpit of the Mosque; it is elegantly formed of fine white marble, with many sculptured ornaments; and was sent as a present to the Mosque in A.H. 969 by Sultan Soleyman Ibn Selym.[FN#50] A straight, narrow staircase leads up to the post of the Khatyb, or preacher, which is surmounted by a gilt polygonal pointed steeple, resembling an obelisk. Here a sermon is preached on Fridays and on certain festivals. These, like the Friday sermons of all Mosques in the Mohammedan countries, are usually of the same turn, with some slight alterations upon extraordinary occasions.[FN#51]� �I have now described all the buildings within the inclosure of the temple.� �The gates of the Mosque are nineteen in number, and are distributed about it without any order or symmetry.[FN#52]� Burckhardt�s description of the gates is short and [p.314] imperfect. On the eastern side of the Mosque there are [p.315] four principal entrances, seven on the southern side, three in the western, and five in the northern wall. The eastern gates are the Greater Bab al-Salam, through which the pilgrim enters the Mosque; it is close to the north-east angle. Next to it the Lesser Bab al-Salam, with two small arches; thirdly, the Bab al-Nabi, where the Prophet used to pass through from Khadijah�s house; and, lastly, near the south-east corner, the Bab Ali, or of the Benu Hashim, opening upon the street between Safa and Marwah. Beyond the north-eastern corner, in the northern wall, is the Bab Duraybah, a small entrance with one arch. Next to it, almost fronting the Ka�abah, is the grand adit, �Bab al-Ziyadah,� also known as Bab al-Nadwah. Here the colonnade, projecting far beyond the normal line, forms a small square or hall supported by pillars, and a false colonnade of sixty-one columns leads to the true cloister of the Mosque. This portion of the building being cool and shady, is crowded by the poor, the diseased, and the dying, during Divine worship, and at other times by idlers, schoolboys, and merchants. Passing through three external arches, pilgrims descend by a flight of steps into the hall, where they deposit their slippers, it not being considered decorous to hold them when circumambulating the Ka�abah.[FN#53] A broad pavement, in the shape of an irregular triangle, whose base is the cloister, leads to the circuit of the house. Next to the Ziyadah Gate is a small, single-arched entrance, �Bab Kutubi,� and beyond it one similar, the Bab al-Ajlah ([Arabic]), also named Al-Basitiyah, from its proximity to the college of Abd al Basitah. Close to the north-west angle of the cloister is the Bab al-Nadwah, anciently called Bab al-Umrah, and now Bab [p.316] al-Atik, the Old Gate. Near this place and opening into the Ka�abah, stood the �Town Hall� (Dar al-Nadwah), built by Kusay, for containing the oriflamme �Al-Liwa,� and as a council-chamber for the ancients of the city.[FN#54] In the western wall are three entrances. The single-arched gate nearest to the north angle is called Bab Benu Saham or Bab al-Umrah, because pilgrims pass through it to the Tanim and to the ceremony Al-Umrah (Little Pilgrimage). In the centre of the wall is the Bab Ibrahim, or Bab al-Khayyatin (the Tailors� Gate); a single arch leading into a large projecting square, like that of the Ziyadah entrance, but somewhat smaller. Near the south-west corner is a double arched adit, the Bab al-Wida�a (�of farewell�): hence departing pilgrims issue forth from the temple. At the western end of the southern wall is the two-arched Bab Umm Hani, so called after the lady�s residence, when included in the Mosque. Next to it is a similar building, �Bab Ujlan� [Arabic] which derives its name from the large college �Madrasat Ujlan�; some call it Bab al-Sharif, because it is opposite one of the palaces. After which, and also pierced with two arches, is the Bab al-Jiyad (some erroneously spell it Al-Jihad, �of War�), the gate leading to Jabal Jiyad. The next is double arched, and called the Bab al-Mujahid or Al-Rahmah (�of Mercy�). Nearly opposite the Ka�abah, and connected with the pavement by a raised line of stone, is the Bab al-Safa, through which pilgrims now issue to perform the ceremony �Al-Sai�; it is a small and unconspicuous erection. Next to it is the Bab al-Baghlah with two arches, and close to the south-east angle of the Mosque the Bab Yunus, alias Bab Bazan, alias Bab al-Zayt, alias Bab al-Asharah (�of the ten�), because a favourite with the first ten Sahabah, or Companions [p.317] of the Prophet. �Most of these gates,� says Burckhardt, �have high pointed arches; but a few round arches are seen among them, which, like all arches of this kind in the Heja[z], are nearly semi-circular. They are without ornament, except the inscription on the exterior, which commemorates the name of the builder, and they are all posterior in date to the fourteenth century. As each gate consists of two or three arches, or divisions, separated by narrow walls, these divisions are counted in the enumeration of the gates leading into the Kaabah, and they make up the number thirty-nine. There being no doors to the gates, the Mosque is consequently open at all times. I have crossed at every hour of the night, and always found people there, either at prayers or walking about.[FN#55]� �The outside walls of the Mosques are those of the houses which surround it on all sides. These houses belonged originally to the Mosque; the greater part are now the property of individuals. They are let out to the richest Hadjys, at very high prices, as much as 500 piastres being given during the pilgrimage for a good apartment with windows opening into the Mosque.[FN#56] Windows have in consequence been opened in many parts of the walls on a level with the street, and above that of the floor of the colonnades. Hadjys living in these apartments are allowed to perform the Friday�s prayers at home; because, having the Kaabah in view from the windows, they are supposed to be in the Mosque itself, and to join in prayer those assembled within the [p.318] temple. Upon a level with the ground floor of the colonnades and opening into them are small apartments formed in the walls, having the appearance of dungeons; these have remained the property of the Mosque while the houses above them belong to private individuals. They are let out to water-men, who deposit in them the Zem Zem jars, or to less opulent Hadjys who wish to live in the Mosque.[FN#57] Some of the surrounding houses still belong to the Mosque, and were originally intended for public schools, as their names of Medresa implies; they are now all let out to Hadjys.� �The exterior of the Mosque is adorned with seven minarets irregularly distributed:�1. Minaret of Bab el Omra (Umrah); 2. Of Bab el Salam; 3. Of Bab Aly; 4. Of Bab el Wodaa (Wida�a); 5. Of Medesa Kail (Kait) Bey; 6. Of Bab el Zyadi; 7. Of Medreset Sultan Soleyman.[FN#58] They are quadrangular or round steeples, in no way differing from other minarets. The entrance to them is from the different buildings round the Mosque, which they adjoin.[FN#59] A beautiful view of the busy crowd below is attained by ascending the most northern one.[FN#60]� Having described at length the establishment [p.319] attached to the Mosque of Al-Madinah, I spare my readers a detailed account of the crowd of idlers that hang about the Meccan temple. The Naib al-Harim, or vice-intendant, is one Sayyid Ali, said to be of Indian extraction; he is superior to all the attendants. There are about eighty eunuchs, whose chief, Sarur Agha, was a slave of Mohammed Ali Pasha. Their pay varies from 100 to 1,000 piastres per mensem; it is, however, inferior to the Madinah salaries. The Imams, Mu�ezzins, Khatibs, Zemzemis, &c., &c., are under their respective Shaykhs who are of the Olema.[FN#61] Briefly to relate the history of the Ka�abah. The �House of Allah� is supposed to have been built and rebuilt ten times. 1. The first origin of the idea is manifestly a symbolical allusion to the angels standing before the Almighty and praising his name. When Allah, it is said, informed the celestial throng that he was about to send a vice-regent on earth, they deprecated the design. Being reproved with these words, �God knoweth what ye know not,� and dreading the eternal anger, they compassed the Arsh, or throne, in adoration. Upon this Allah created the Bayt al-Ma�amur, four jasper pillars with a ruby roof, [p.320] and the angels circumambulated it, crying, �Praise to Allah, and exalted be Allah, and there is no ilah but Allah, and Allah is omnipotent!� The Creator then ordered them to build a similar house for man on earth. This, according to Ali, took place 40, according to Abu Hurayrah, 2,000 years before the creation; both authorities, however, are agreed that the firmaments were spread above and the seven earths beneath this Bayt al-Ma�amur. 2. There is considerable contradiction concerning the second house. Ka�ab related that Allah sent down with Adam[FN#62] a Khaymah, or tabernacle of hollow ruby, which the angels raised on stone pillars. This was also called Bayt al-Ma�amur. Adam received an order to compass it about; after which, he begged a reward for obedience, and was promised a pardon to himself and to all his progeny who repent. Others declare that Adam, expelled from Paradise, and lamenting that he no longer heard the prayers of the angels, was ordered by Allah to take the stones of five hills, Lebanon, Sinai, Tur Zayt (Olivet), Ararat, and Hira, which afforded the first stone. Gabriel, smiting his wing upon earth, opened a foundation to the seventh layer, and the position of the building is exactly below the heavenly Bayt al-Ma�amur,�a Moslem corruption of the legends concerning the heavenly and the earthly Jerusalem. Our First Father circumambulated it as he had seen the angels do, and was by them taught the formula of prayer and the number of circuits. According to others, again, this second house was not erected till after the �Angelic Foundation� was destroyed by time. 3. The history of the third house is also somewhat [p.321] confused. When the Bayt al-Ma�amur, or, as others say, the tabernacle, was removed to heaven after Adam�s death, a stone-and-mud building was placed in its stead by his son Shays (Seth). For this reason it is respected by the Sabaeans, or Christians of St. John, as well as by the Moslems. This Ka�abah, according to some, was destroyed by the deluge, which materially altered its site. Others believe that it was raised to heaven. Others, again, declare that only the pillars supporting the heavenly tabernacle were allowed to remain. Most authorities agree in asserting that the Black Stone was stored up in Abu Kubays, whence that �first created of mountains� is called Al-Amin, �the Honest.� 4. Abraham and his son were ordered to build the fourth house upon the old foundations: its materials, according to some, were taken from the five hills which supplied the second; others give the names Ohod, Kuds, Warka, Sinai, Hira, and a sixth, Abu Kubays. It was of irregular shape; 32 cubits from the Eastern to the Northern corner; 32 from North to West; 31 from West to South; 20 from South to East; and only 9 cubits high. There was no roof; two doors, level with the ground, were pierced in the Eastern and Western walls; and inside, on the right hand, near the present entrance, a hole for treasure was dug. Gabriel restored the Black Stone, which Abraham, by his direction, placed in its present corner, as a sign where circumambulation is to begin; and the patriarch then learned all the complicated rites of pilgrimage. When this house was completed, Abraham, by Allah�s order, ascended Jabal Sabir, and called the world to visit the sanctified spot; and all earth�s sons heard him, even those �in their father�s loins or in their mother�s womb, from that day unto the day of resurrection.� 5. The Amalikah (descended from Imlik, great grandson of Sam, son of Noah), who first settled near Meccah, founded the fifth house. Al-Tabari and the Moslem [p.322] historians generally made the erection of the Amalikah to precede that of the Jurham; these, according to others, repaired the house which Abraham built. 6. The sixth Ka�abah was built about the beginning of the Christian era by the Benu Jurham, the children of Kahtan, fifth descendant from Noah. Ismail married, according to the Moslems, a daughter of this tribe, Da�alah bint Muzaz ([Arabic]) bin Omar, and abandoning Hebrew, he began to speak Arabic (Ta arraba). Hence his descendants are called Arabicized Arabs. After Ismail�s death, which happened when he was 130 years old, Sabit, the eldest of his twelve sons, became �lord of the house.� He was succeeded by his maternal grandfather Muzaz, and afterwards by his children. The Jurham inhabited the higher parts of Meccah, especially Jabal Ka�aka�an, so called from their clashing arms; whereas the Amalikah dwelt in the lower grounds, which obtained the name of Jiyad, from their generous horses. 7. Kusay bin Kilab, governor of Meccah and fifth forefather of the Prophet, built the seventh house, according to Abraham�s plan. He roofed it over with palm leaves, stocked it with idols, and persuaded his tribe to settle near the Harim. 8. Kusay�s house was burnt down by a woman�s censer, which accidentally set fire to the Kiswah, or covering, and the walls were destroyed by a torrent. A merchant-ship belonging to a Greek trader, called �Bakum� ([Arabic]), being wrecked at Jeddah, afforded material for the roof, and the crew were employed as masons. The Kuraysh tribe, who rebuilt the house, failing in funds of pure money, curtailed its proportions by nearly seven cubits and called the omitted portion Al-Hatim. In digging the foundation they came to a green stone, like a camel�s hunch, which, struck with a pickaxe, sent forth blinding lightning, and prevented further excavation. The Kuraysh, amongst other alterations, raised the walls [p.323] from nine to eighteen cubits, built a staircase in the northern breadth, closed the western door and placed the eastern entrance above the ground, to prevent men entering without their leave. When the eighth house was being built Mohammed was in his twenty-fifth year. His surname of Al-Amin, the Honest, probably induced the tribes to make him their umpire for the decision of a dispute about the position of the Black Stone, and who should have the honour of raising it to its place.[FN#63] He decided for the corner chosen by Abraham, and distributed the privilege amongst the clans. The Benu Zahrah and Benu Abd Manaf took the front wall and the door; to the Benu Jama and the Benu Sahm was allotted the back wall; the Benu Makhzum and their Kuraysh relations stood at the southern wall; and at the �Stone� corner were posted the Benu Abd al-Dar, the Benu As�ad, and the Benu Ada. 9. Abdullah bin Zubayr, nephew of Ayishah, rebuilt the Ka�abah in A.H. 64. It had been weakened by fire, which burnt the covering, besides splitting the Black Stone into three pieces, and by the Manjanik (catapults) of Hosayn ([Arabic]) bin Numayr, general of Yazid, who obstinately besieged Meccah till he heard of his sovereign�s death. Abdullah, hoping to fulfil a prophecy,[FN#64] and seeing that the people of Meccah fled in alarm, pulled down the building by means of �thin-calved Abyssinian slaves.� When they came to Abraham�s foundation he saw that it included Al-Hijr, which part the Kuraysh had been unable to build. The building was made of cut stone and fine lime brought from Al-Yaman. Abdullah, taking in the Hatim, lengthened the building by seven cubits, and added to its former height nine cubits, [p.324] thus making a total of twenty-seven. He roofed over the whole, or a part; re-opened the western door, to serve as an exit; and, following the advice of his aunt, who quoted the Prophet�s words, he supported the interior with a single row of three columns, instead of the double row of six placed there by the Kuraysh. Finally, he paved the Mataf, or circuit, ten cubits round with the remaining slabs, and increased the Harim by taking in the nearer houses. During the building, a curtain was stretched round the walls, and pilgrims compassed them externally. When finished, it was perfumed inside and outside, and invested with brocade. Then Abdullah and all the citizens went forth in a procession to the Tanim, a reverend place near Meccah, returned to perform Umrah, the Lesser Pilgrimage, slew 100 victims, and rejoiced with great festivities. The Caliph Abd al-Malik bin Marwan besieged Abdullah bin Zubayr, who, after a brave defence, was slain. In A.H. 74, Hajjaj bin Yusuf, general of Abd al-Malik�s troops, wrote to the prince, informing him that Abdullah had made unauthorised additions to and changes in the Harim: the reply brought an order to rebuild the house. Hajjaj again excluded the Hatim and retired the northern wall six cubits and a span, making it twenty-five cubits long by twenty-four broad; the other three sides were allowed to remain as built by the son of Zubayr. He gave the house a double roof, closed the western door, and raised the eastern four cubits and a span above the Mataf, or circuit, which he paved over. The Harim was enlarged and beautified by the Abbasides, especially by Al-Mahdi, Al-Mutamid, and Al-Mutazid. Some authors reckon, as an eleventh house, the repairs made by Sultan Murad Khan. On the night of Tuesday, 20th Sha�aban, A.H. 1030, a violent torrent swept the Harim; it rose one cubit above the threshold of the Ka�abah, carried away the lamp-posts and the [p.325] Makam Ibrahim, all the northern wall of the house, half of the eastern, and one-third of the western side. It subsided on Wednesday night. The repairs were not finished till A.H. 1040. The greater part, however, of the building dates from the time of Al Hajjaj; and Moslems, who never mention his name without a curse, knowingly circumambulate his work. The Olema indeed have insisted upon its remaining untouched, lest kings in wantonness should change its form: Harun al-Rashid desired to rebuild it, but was forbidden by the Imam Malik. The present proofs of the Ka�abah�s sanctity, as adduced by the learned, are puerile enough, but curious. The Olema have made much of the verselet: �Verily the first house built for mankind (to worship in) is that in Bakkah[FN#65] (Meccah), blessed and a salvation to the three worlds. Therein (fihi) are manifest signs, the standing-place of Abraham, which whoso entereth shall be safe� (Kor. ch. 3). The word �therein� is interpreted to mean Meccah; and the �manifest signs� the Ka�abah, which contains such marvels as the foot-prints on Abraham�s platform and the spiritual safeguard of all who enter the Sanctuary.[FN#66] The other �signs,� historical, psychical, and physical, are briefly these: The preservation of the Hajar al-Aswad and the Makam Ibrahim from many foes, and the miracles put forth (as in the War of the Elephant), to defend the house; the violent and terrible deaths of the sacrilegious; and the fact that, in the Deluge, the large fish did not eat the little fish in the Harim. A wonderful desire and love impel men from distant regions to visit the holy spot, and the first sight of the Ka�abah causes awe and fear, horripilation and tears. Furthermore, ravenous beasts will not destroy their prey in the Sanctuary land, and the pigeons and other birds never perch upon the house, except to be [p.326] cured of sickness, for fear of defiling the roof. The Ka�abah, though small, can contain any number of devotees; no one is ever hurt in it,[FN#67] and invalids recover their health by rubbing themselves against the Kiswah and the Black Stone. Finally, it is observed that every day 100,000 mercies descend upon the house, and especially that if rain come up from the northern corner there is plenty in Irak; if from the south, there is plenty in Yaman; if from the east, plenty in India; if from the western, there is plenty in Syria; and if from all four angles, general plenty is presignified. [FN#1] �Bayt Ullah� (House of Allah) and �Ka�abah,� i.e. cube (house), �la maison carree,� are synonymous. [FN#2] Ali Bey gives 536 feet 9 inches by 356 feet: my measurement is 257 paces by 210. Most Moslem authors, reckoning by cubits, make the parallelogram 404 by 310. [FN#3] On each short side I counted 24 domes; on the long, 35. This would give a total of 118 along the cloisters. The Arabs reckon in all 152; viz., 24 on the East side, on the North 36, on the South 36, one on the Mosque corner, near the Zarurah minaret; 16 at the porch of the Bab al-Ziyadah; and 15 at the Bab Ibrahim. The shape of these domes is the usual �Media-Naranja,� and the superstition of the Meccans informs the pilgrim that they cannot be counted. Books reckon 1352 pinnacles or battlements on the temple wall. [FN#4] The �common stone of the Meccah mountains� is a fine grey granite, quarried principally from a hill near the Bab al-Shabayki, which furnished material for the Ka�abah. Eastern authors describe the pillars as consisting of three different substances, viz.: Rukham, white marble, not �alabaster,� its general sense; Suwan, or granite (syenite?); and Hajar Shumaysi,� a kind of yellow sandstone, so called from �Bir Shumays,� a place on the Jeddah road near Haddah, the half-way station. [FN#5] I counted in the temple 554 pillars. It is, however, difficult to be accurate, as the four colonnades and the porticos about the two great gates are irregular; topographical observations, moreover, must here be made under difficulties. Ali Bey numbers them roughly at �plus de 500 colonnes et pilastres.� [FN#6] The author afterwards informs us, that �the temple has been so often ruined and repaired, that no traces of remote antiquity are to be found about it.� He mentions some modern and unimportant inscriptions upon the walls and over the gates. Knowing that many of the pillars were sent in ships from Syria and Egypt by the Caliph Al-Mahdi, a traveller would have expected better things. [FN#7] The reason being, that �those shafts formed of the Meccan stone are mostly in three pieces; but the marble shafts are in one piece.� [FN#8] To this may be added, that the façades of the cloisters are twenty-four along the short walls, and thirty-six along the others; they have stone ornaments, not inaptly compared to the French �fleur de lis.� The capital and bases of the outer pillars are grander and more regular than the inner; they support pointed arches, and the Arab secures his beloved variety by placing at every fourth arch a square pilaster. Of these there are on the long sides ten, on the short seven. [FN#9] I counted eight, not including the broad pavement which leads from the Bab al-Ziyadah to the Ka�abah, or the four cross branches which connect the main lines. These �Firash al-Hajar,� as they are called, also serve to partition off the area. One space for instance is called �Haswat al-Harim,� or the �Women�s sanded place,� because appropriated to female devotees. [FN#10] The jars are little amphoræ, each inscribed with the name of the donor and a peculiar cypher. [FN#11] My measurements give 22 paces or 55 feet in length by 18 (45) of breadth, and the height appeared greater than the length. Ali Bey makes the Eastern side 37 French feet, 2 inches and 6 lines, the Western 38° 4' 6", the Northern 29 feet, the Southern 31° 6', and the height 34° 4'. He therefore calls it a �veritable trapezium.� In Al-Idrisi�s time it was 25 cubits by 24, and 27 cubits high. [FN#12] I would alter this sentence thus:��It is built of fine grey granite in horizontal courses of masonry of irregular depth; the stones are tolerably fitted together, and are held by excellent mortar like Roman cement.� The lines are also straight. [FN#13] This base is called Al-Shazarwan, from the Persian Shadarwan, a cornice, eaves, or canopy. It is in pent-house shape, projecting about a foot beyond the wall, and composed of fine white marble slabs, polished like glass; there are two breaks in it, one opposite and under the doorway, and another in front of Ishmael�s tomb. Pilgrims are directed, during circumambulation, to keep their bodies outside of the Shazarwan ; this would imply it to be part of the building, but its only use appears in the large brass rings welded into it, for the purpose of holding down the Ka�abah covering. [FN#14] Ali Bey also errs in describing the roof as �plat endessus.� Were such the case, rain would not pour off with violence through the spout. Most Oriental authors allow a cubit of depression from South-West to North-West. In Al-Idrisi�s day the Ka�abah had a double roof. Some say this is the case in the present building, which has not been materially altered in shape since its restoration by Al-Hajjaj, A.H. 83. The roof was then eighteen cubits long by fifteen broad. [FN#15] In Ibn Jubayr�s time the Ka�abah was opened every day in Rajah, and in other months on every Monday and Friday. The house may now be entered ten or twelve times a year gratis; and by pilgrims as often as they can collect, amongst parties, a sum sufficient to tempt the guardians� cupidity. [FN#16] This mistake, in which Burckhardt is followed by all our popular authors, is the more extraordinary, as all Arabic authors call the door-wall Janib al-Mashrik�the Eastern side�or Wajh al-Bayt, the front of the house, opposed to Zahr al-Bayt, the back. Niebuhr is equally in error when he asserts that the door fronts to the South. Arabs always hold the �Rukn al-Iraki,� or Irak angle, to face the polar star, and so it appears in Ali Bey�s plan. The Ka�abah, therefore, has no Northern side. And it must be observed that Moslem writers dispose the length of the Ka�abah from East to West, whereas our travellers make it from North to South. Ali Bey places the door only six feet from the pavement, but he calculates distances by the old French measure. It is about seven feet from the ground, and six from the corner of the Black Stone. Between the two the space of wall is called Al-Multazem (in Burckhardt, by a clerical error, �Al-Metzem,� vol. i. p. 173). It derives its name, the �attached-to,� because here the circumambulator should apply his bosom, and beg pardon for his sins. Al-Multazem, according to M. de Perceval, following d�Ohsson, was formerly �le lieu des engagements,� whence, according to him, its name[.] �Le Moltezem,� says M. Galland (Rits et Ceremonies du Pelerinage de la Mecque), �qui est entre la pierre noire et la porte, est l�endroit ou Mahomet se reconcilia avec ses dix compagnons, qui disaient qu�il n�etait pas veritablement Prophete.� [FN#17] From the Bab al-Ziyadah, or gate in the northern colonnade, you descend by two flights of steps, in all about twenty-five. This depression manifestly arises from the level of the town having been raised, like Rome, by successive layers of ruins; the most populous and substantial quarters (as the Shamiyah to the north) would, we might expect, be the highest, and this is actually the case. But I am unable to account satisfactorily for the second hollow within the temple, and immediately around the house of Allah, where the door, according to all historians, formerly on a level with the pavement, and now about seven feet above it, shows the exact amount of depression, which cannot be accounted for simply by calcation. Some chroniclers assert, that when the Kuraysh rebuilt the house they raised the door to prevent devotees entering without their permission. But seven feet would scarcely oppose an entrance, and how will this account for the floor of the building being also raised to that height above the pavement? It is curious to observe the similarity between this inner hollow of the Meccan fane and the artificial depression of the Hindu pagoda where it is intended to be flooded. The Hindus would also revere the form of the Meccan fane, exactly resembling their square temples, at whose corners are placed Brahma, Vishnu, Shiwa and Ganesha, who adore the great Universal Generator in the centre. The second door anciently stood on the side of the temple opposite the present entrance; inside, its place can still be traced. Ali Bey suspects its having existed in the modern building, and declares that the exterior surface of the wall shows the tracery of a blocked-up door, similar to that still open. Some historians declare that it was closed by the Kuraysh when they rebuilt the house in Mohammed�s day, and that subsequent erections have had only one. The general opinion is, that Al-Hajjaj finally closed up the western entrance. Doctors also differ as to its size; the popular measurement is three cubits broad and a little more than five in length. [FN#18] Pilgrims and ignorant devotees collect the drippings of wax, the ashes of the aloe-wood, and the dust from the �Atabah,� or threshold of the Ka�abah, either to rub upon their foreheads or to preserve as relics. These superstitious practices are sternly rebuked by the Olema. [FN#19] For North-East read South-East. [FN#20] I will not enter into the fabulous origin of the Hajar al-Aswad. Some of the traditions connected with it are truly absurd. �When Allah,� says Ali, �made covenant with the Sons of Adam on the Day of Fealty, he placed the paper inside the stone�; it will, therefore, appear at the judgment, and bear witness to all who have touched it. Moslems agree that it was originally white, and became black by reason of men�s sins. It appeared to me a common aerolite covered with a thick slaggy coating, glossy and pitch-like, worn and polished. Dr. Wilson, of Bombay, showed me a specimen in his possession, which externally appeared to be a black slag, with the inside of a bright and sparkling greyish-white, the result of admixture of nickel [p.301] with the iron. This might possibly, as the learned Orientalist then suggested, account for the mythic change of colour, its appearance on earth after a thunderstorm, and its being originally a material part of the heavens. Kutb al-Din expressly declares that, when the Karamitah restored it after twenty-two years to the Meccans, men kissed it and rubbed it upon their brows; and remarked that the blackness was only superficial, the inside being white. Some Greek philosophers, it will be remembered, believed the heavens to be composed of stones (Cosmos, �Shooting Stars�): and Sanconiathon, ascribing the aerolite-worship to the god C�lus, declares them to be living or animated stones. �The Arabians,� says Maximus of Tyre (Dissert. 38, p. 455), �pay homage to I know not what god, which they represent by a quadrangular stone.� The gross fetichism of the Hindus, it is well known, introduced them to litholatry. At Jagannath they worship a pyramidal black stone, fabled to have fallen from heaven, or miraculously to have presented itself on the place where the temple now stands. Moreover, they revere the Salagram, as the emblem of Vishnu, the second person in their triad. The rudest emblem of the �Bonus Deus� was a round stone. It was succeeded in India by the cone and triangle; in Egypt by the pyramid; in Greece it was represented by cones of terra-cotta about three inches and a half long. Without going deep into theory, it may be said that the Ka�abah and the Hajar are the only two idols which have survived the 360 composing the heavenly host of the Arab pantheon. Thus the Hindu poet exclaims:� �Behold the marvels of my idol-temple, O Moslem! That when its idols are destroy�d, it becomes Allah�s House.� Wilford (As. Soc. vols. iii. and iv.) makes the Hindus declare that the Black Stone at Mokshesha, or Moksha-sthana (Meccah) was an incarnation of Moksheshwara, an incarnation of Shiwa, who with his consort visited Al-Hijaz. When the Ka�abah was rebuilt, this emblem was placed in the outer wall for contempt, but the people still respected it. In the Dabistan the Black Stone is said to be an image of Kaywan or Saturn; and Al-Shahristani also declares the temple to have been dedicated to the same planet Zuhal, whose genius is represented in the Puranas as fierce, hideous, four-armed, and habited in a black cloak, with a dark turband. Moslem historians are unanimous in asserting that Sasan, son of Babegan, and other Persian monarchs, gave rich presents to the Ka�abah; they especially mention two golden crescent moons, a significant offering. The Guebers assert that, among the images and relics left by Mahabad and his successors in the Ka�abah, was the Black Stone, an emblem of Saturn. They also call the city Mahgah� moon�s place�from an exceedingly beautiful image of the moon; whence they say the Arabs derived �Meccah.� And the Sabaeans equally respect the Ka�abah and the pyramids, which they assert to be the tombs of Seth, Enoch (or Hermes), and Sabi the son of Enoch. Meccah, then, is claimed as a sacred place, and the Hajar al-Aswad, as well as the Ka�abah, are revered as holy emblems by four different faiths�the Hindu, Sabæan, Gueber, and Moslem. I have little doubt, and hope to prove at another time, that the Jews connected it with traditions about Abraham. This would be the fifth religion that looked towards the Ka�abah�a rare meeting-place of devotion. [FN#21] Presenting this appearance in profile. The Hajar has suffered from the iconoclastic principle of Islam, having once narrowly escaped destruction by order of Al-Hakim of Egypt. In these days the metal rim serves as a protection as well as an ornament. [FN#22] The height of the Hajar from the ground, according to my measurement, is four feet nine inches; Ali Bey places it forty-two inches above the pavement. [FN#23] The colour was black and metallic, and the centre of the stone was sunk about two inches below the metal circle. Round the sides was a reddish-brown cement, almost level with the metal, and sloping down to the middle of the stone. Ibn Jubayr declares the depth of the stone unknown, but that most people believe it to extend two cubits into the wall. In his day it was three �Shibr� (the large span from the thumb to the little finger-tip) broad, and one span long, with knobs, and a joining of four pieces, which the Karamitah had broken. The stone was set in a silver band. �Its softness and moisture were such,� says Ibn Jubayr, �that the sinner would never remove his mouth from it, which phenomenon made the Prophet declare it to be the covenant of Allah on earth.� [FN#24] The band is now a massive circle of gold or silver gilt. I found the aperture in which the stone is, one span and three fingers broad. [FN#25] The �Rukn al-Yamani� is the corner facing the South. The part alluded to in the text is the wall of the Ka�abah, between the Shami and Yamani angles, distant about three feet from the latter, and near the site of the old western door, long since closed. The stone is darker and redder than the rest of the wall. It is called Al-Mustajab (or Mustajab min al-Zunub or Mustajab al-Dua, �where prayer is granted�). Pilgrims here extend their arms, press their bodies against the building, and beg pardon for their sins. [FN#26] I have frequently seen it kissed by men and women. [FN#27] Al-Ma�ajan, the place of mixing or kneading, because the patriarchs here kneaded the mud used as cement in the holy building. Some call it Al-Hufrah (the digging), and it is generally known as Makam Jibrail (the place of Gabriel), because here descended the inspired order for the five daily prayers, and at this spot the Archangel and the Prophet performed their devotions, making it a most auspicious spot. It is on the north of the door, from which it is distant about two feet; its length is seven spans and seven fingers; breadth five spans three fingers; and depth one span four fingers. The following sentence from Herklet�s �Qanoon e Islam� (ch. xii. sec. 5) may serve to show the extent of error still popular. The author, after separating the Bayt Ullah from the Ka�abah, erroneously making the former the name of the whole temple, proceeds to say, �the rain-water which falls on its (the Ka�abah�s) terrace runs off through a golden spout on a stone near it, called Rookn-e-Yemeni, or alabaster-stone), and stands over the grave of Ismaeel.��! [FN#28] Generally called Mizab al-Rahmah (of Mercy). It carries rain from the roof, and discharges it upon Ishmael�s grave, where pilgrims stand fighting to catch it. In Al-Idrisi�s time it was of wood; now it is said to be gold, but it looks very dingy. [FN#29] Usually called the Hajar al-Akhzar, or green stone. Al-Idrisi speaks of a white stone covering Ishmael�s remains; Ibn Jubayr of �green marble, longish, in form of a Mihrab arch, and near it a white round slab, in both of which are spots that make them appear yellow.� Near them, we are told, and towards the Iraki corner, is the tomb of Hagar, under a green slab one span and a half broad, and pilgrims used to pray at both places. Ali Bey erroneously applies the words Al-Hajar Ismail to the parapet about the slab. [FN#30] My measurements give five feet six inches. In Al-Idrisi�s day the wall was fifty cubits long. [FN#31] Al-Hatim ([Arabic] lit. the �broken�). Burckhardt asserts that the Mekkawi no longer apply the word, as some historians do, to the space bounded by the Ka�abah, the Partition, the Zemzem, and the Makam of Ibrahim. I heard it, however, so used by learned Meccans, and they gave as the meaning of the name the break in this part of the oval pavement which surrounds the Ka�abah. Historians relate that all who rebuilt the �House of Allah� followed Abraham�s plan till the Kuraysh, and after them Al-Hajjaj curtailed it in the direction of Al-Hatim, which part was then first broken off, and ever since remained so. [FN#32] Al-Hijr ([Arabic]) is the space separated, as the name denotes, from the Ka�abah. Some suppose that Abraham here penned his sheep. Possibly Ali Bey means this part of the Temple when he speaks of Al-Hajar ([Arabic]) Ismail�les pierres d�Ismail. [FN#33] �Al-Hajjaj�; this, as will afterwards be seen, is a mistake. He excluded the Hatim. [FN#34] As well as memory serves me, for I have preserved no note, the inscriptions are in the marble casing, and indeed no other stone meets the eye. [FN#35] It is a fine, close, grey polished granite: the walk is called Al-Mataf, or the place of circumambulation. [FN#36] These are now iron posts, very numerous, supporting cross rods, and of tolerably elegant shape. In Ali Bey�s time there were �trente-une colonnes minces en piliers en bronze.� Some native works say thirty-three, including two marble columns. Between each two hang several white or green glass globe-lamps, with wicks and oil floating on water; their light is faint and dismal. The whole of the lamps in the Harim is said to be more than 1000, yet they serve but to �make darkness visible.� [FN#37] There are only four �Makams,� the Hanafi, Maliki, Hanbali, and the Makam Ibrahim; and there is some error of diction below, for in these it is that the Imams stand before their congregations, and nearest the Ka�abah. In Ibn Jubayr�s time the Zaydi sect was allowed an Imam, though known to be schismatics and abusers of the caliphs. Now, not being permitted to have a separate station for prayer, they suppose theirs to be suspended from heaven above the Ka�abah roof. [FN#38] The Makam al-Maliki is on the west of, and thirty-seven cubits from, the Ka�abah; that of the Hanbali forty-seven paces distant. [FN#39] Only the Mu�ezzin takes his stand here, and the Shafe�is pray behind their Imam on the pavement round the Ka�abah, between the corner of the well Zemzem, and the Makam Ibrahim. This place is forty cubits from the Ka�abah, that is say, eight cubits nearer than the Northern and Southern �Makams.� Thus the pavement forms an irregular oval ring round the house[.] [FN#40] In Burckhardt�s time the schools prayed according to the seniority of their founders, and they uttered the Azan of Al-Maghrib together, because that is a peculiarly delicate hour, which easily passes by unnoticed. In the twelfth century, at all times but the evening, the Shafe�i began, then came the Maliki and Hanbali simultaneously, and, lastly, the Hanafi. Now the Shaykh al-Mu�ezzin begins the call, which is taken up by the others. He is a Hanafi; as indeed are all the principal people at Meccah, only a few wild Sharifs of the hills being Shafe�i. [FN#41] The door of the Zemzem building fronts to the south-east. [FN#42] This is not exactly correct. As the plan will show, the angle of one building touches the angle of its neighbour. [FN#43] Their names and offices are now changed. One is called the Kubbat al-Sa�at, and contains the clocks and chronometers (two of them English) sent as presents to the Mosque by the Sultan. The other, known as the Kubbat al-Kutub, is used as a store-room for manuscripts bequeathed to the Mosque. They still are open to Burckhardt�s just criticism, being nothing but the common dome springing from four walls, and vulgarly painted with bands of red, yellow, and green. In Ibn Jubayr�s time the two domes contained bequests of books and candles. The Kubbat Abbas, or that further from the Ka�abah than its neighbour, was also called Kubbat al-Sharab (the Dome of Drink), because Zemzem water was here kept cooling for the use of pilgrims in Daurak, or earthen jars. The nearer was termed Kubbat al-Yahudi; and the tradition they told me was, that a Jew having refused to sell his house upon the spot, it was allowed to remain in loco by the Prophet, as a lasting testimony to his regard for justice. A similar tale is told of an old woman�s hut, which was allowed to stand in the corner of the Great Nushirawan�s royal halls. [FN#44] Called �Al-Daraj.� A correct drawing of it may be found in Ali Bey�s work. [FN#45] The Bab al-Salam, or Bab al-Nabi, or Bab benu Shaybah, resembles in its isolation a triumphal arch, and is built of cut stone. [FN#46] �The (praying) place of Abraham.� Readers will remember that the Meccan Mosque is peculiarly connected with Ibrahim, whom Moslems prefer to all prophets except Mohammed. [FN#47] This I believe to be incorrect. I was asked five dollars for permission to enter; but the sum was too high for my finances. Learned men told me that the stone shows the impress of two feet, especially the big toes, and devout pilgrims fill the cavities with water, which they rub over their eyes and faces. When the Caliph al-Mahdi visited Meccah, one Abdullah bin Osman presented himself at the unusual hour of noon, and informing the prince that he had brought him a relic which no man but himself had yet seen, produced this celebrated stone. Al-Mahdi, rejoicing greatly, kissed it, rubbed his face against it, and pouring water upon it, drank the draught. Kutb al-Din, one of the Meccan historians, says that it was visited in his day. In Ali Bey�s time it was covered with �un magnifique drap noir brode en or et en argent avec de gros glands en or;� he does not say, however, that he saw the stone. Its veils, called Sitr Ibrahim al-Khalil, are a green �Ibrisham,� or silk mixed with cotton and embroidered with gold. They are made at Cairo of three different colours, black, red, and green; and one is devoted to each year. The gold embroidery is in the Sulsi character, and expresses the Throne-verse, the Chapter of the Cave, and the name of the reigning Sultan; on the top is �Allah,� below it �Mohammed�; beneath this is �Ibrahim al-Khalil�; and at each corner is the name of one of the four caliphs. In a note to the �Dabistan� (vol. ii. p. 410), we find two learned Orientalists confounding the Black Stone with Abraham�s Station or Platform. �The Prophet honoured the Black Stone, upon which Abraham conversed with Hagar, to which he tied his camels, and upon which the traces of his feet are still seen.� [FN#48] Not only here, I was told by learned Meccans, but under all the oval pavements surrounding the Ka�abah. [FN#49] The spring gushes from the southern base of Mount Arafat, as will afterwards be noticed. It is exceedingly pure. [FN#50] The author informs us that �the first pulpit was sent from Cairo in A.H. 818, together with the staircase, both being the gifts of Moayed, caliph of Egypt.� Ali Bey accurately describes the present Mambar. [FN#51] The curious will find a specimen of a Moslem sermon in Lane�s Mod. Egypt. Vol. i. ch. iii. [FN#52] Burckhardt �subjoins their names as they are usually written upon small cards by the Metowefs; in another column are the names by which they were known in more ancient times, principally taken from Azraky and Kotoby.� I have added a few remarks in brackets[.] [Mention is made of Modern names; Arches; and Ancient names.] 1. Bab el Salam, composed of gates or arches; 3; Bab Beni Shaybah (this is properly applied to the inner, not the outer Salam Gate.) 2. Bab el Neby; 2; Bab el Jenaiz, Gate of Biers, the dead being carried through it to the Mosque. 3. Bab el Abbas, opposite to this the house of Abbas once stood; 3; Bab Sertakat (some Moslem authors confound this Bab al-Abbas with the Gate of Biers.) 4. Bab Aly; 3; Bab Beni Hashem 5. Bab el Zayt Bab el Ashra; 2; Bab Bazan (so called from a neighbouring hill). 6. Bab el Baghlah; 2; 7. Bab el Szafa (Safa); 5; Bab Beni Makhzoum. 8. Bab Sherif; 2; Bab el Djiyad (so called because leading to the hill Jiyad) 9. Bab Medjahed; 2; Bab el Dokhmah. 10. Bab Zoleykha; 2; Bab Sherif Adjelan, who built it. 11. Bab Om Hany, so called from the daughter of Aby Taleb; 2; Bab el Hazoura (some write this Bab el Zarurah). 12. Bab el Wodaa (Al-Wida�a), through which the pilgrim passes when taking his final leave of the temple; 2; Bab el Kheyatyn, or Bab Djomah. 13. Bab Ibrahim, so called from a tailor who had a shop near it; 1; 14. Bab el Omra, through which pilgrims issue to visit the Omra. Also called Beni Saham; 1; Bab Amer Ibn el Aas, or Bab el Sedra. 15. Bab Atech (Al-Atik?); 1; Bab el Adjale. 16. Bab el Bastye; 1; Bab Zyade Dar el Nedoua. 17. Bab el Kotoby, so called from an historian of Mekka who lived in an adjoining lane and opened this small gate into the Mosque; 1; 18. Bab Zyade; 3; (It is called Bab Ziyadah�Gate of Excess�because it is a new structure thrown out into the Shamiyah, or Syrian quarter.) 19. Bab Dereybe; 1; Bab Medrese. Total [number of arches] 39[FN#53] An old pair of slippers is here what the �shocking bad hat� is at a crowded house in Europe, a self-preserver. Burckhardt lost three pairs. I, more fortunately, only one. [FN#54] Many authorities place this building upon the site of the modern Makam Hanafi. [FN#55] The Meccans love to boast that at no hour of the day or night is the Ka�abah ever seen without a devotee to perform �Tawaf.� [FN#56] This would be about 50 dollars, whereas 25 is a fair sum for a single apartment. Like English lodging-house-keepers, the Meccans make the season pay for the year. In Burckhardt�s time the colonnato was worth from 9 to 12 piastres; the value of the latter coin is now greatly decreased, for 28 go to the Spanish dollar all over Al-Hijaz. [FN#57] I entered one of these caves, and never experienced such a sense of suffocation even in that favourite spot for Britons to asphixiate themselves�the Baths of Nero. [FN#58] The Magnificent (son of Salim I.), who built at Al-Madinah the minaret bearing his name. The minarets at Meccah are far inferior to those of her rival, and their bands of gaudy colours give them an appearance of tawdry vulgarity. [FN#59] Two minarets, namely, those of the Bab al-Salam and the Bab al-Safa, are separated from the Mosque by private dwelling-houses, a plan neither common nor regular. [FN#60] A stranger must be careful how he appears at a minaret window, unless he would have a bullet whizzing past his head. Arabs are especially jealous of being overlooked, and have no fellow-feeling for votaries of �beautiful views.� For this reason here, as in Egypt, a blind Mu�ezzin is preferred, and many ridiculous stories are told about men who for years have counterfeited cecity to live in idleness[.] [FN#61] I have illustrated this chapter, which otherwise might be unintelligible to many, by a plan of the Ka�abah (taken from Ali Bey al-Abbasi), which Burckhardt pronounced to be �perfectly correct.� This author has not been duly appreciated. In the first place, his disguise was against him; and, secondly, he was a spy of the French Government. According to Mr. Bankes, who had access to the original papers at Constantinople, Ali Bey was a Catalonian named Badia, and was suspected to have been of Jewish extraction. He claimed from Napoleon a reward for his services, returned to the East, and died, it is supposed, of poison in the Hauran, near Damascus. In the edition which I have consulted (Paris, 1814) the author labours to persuade the world by marking the days with their planetary signs, &c., &c., that he is a real Oriental, but he perpetually betrays himself. Some years ago, accurate plans of the two Harims were made by order of the present Sultan. They are doubtless to be found amongst the archives at Constantinople. [FN#62] It must be remembered that the Moslems, like many of the Jews, hold that Paradise was not on earth, but in the lowest firmament, which is, as it were, a reflection of earth. [FN#63] Others derive the surname from this decision. [FN#64] As will afterwards be mentioned, almost every Meccan knows the prophecy of Mohammed, that the birthplace of his faith will be destroyed by an army from Abyssinia. Such things bring their own fulfilment. [FN#65] Abu Hanifah made it a temporal sanctuary, and would not allow even a murderer to be dragged from the walls. [FN#66] Makkah (our Meccah) is the common word; Bakkah is a synonym never used but in books. The former means �a concourse of people.� But why derive it from the Hebrew, and translate it �a slaughter�? Is this a likely name for a holy place? Dr. Colenso actually turns the Makaraba of Ptolemy into �Makkah-rabbah,� plentiful slaughter. But if Makaraba be Meccah, it is evidently a corruption of �Makkah� and �Arabah,� the Arab race. Again, supposing the Meccan temple to be originally dedicated to the sun, why should the pure Arab word �Ba�al� become the Hebræized Hobal, and the deity be only one in the three hundred and sixty that formed the Pantheon? [FN#67] This is an audacious falsehood; the Ka�abah is scarcely ever opened without some accident happening. [p.327] APPENDIX III.[FN#1] SPECIMEN OF A MURSHID'S DIPLOMA, IN THE KADIRI ORDER OF THE MYSTIC CRAFT AL-TASAWWUF. [ TRANSCRIBER�S NOTE: Footnote 1 gives a description of the original manuscript. In Burton�s book, the text is presented as follows: - Firstly, the section of text beginning �This is the tree � and ending with the lines �Amen.�, �A.�, presented as a triangle, with each line centred on the page. - Below this, the section of text �There is no god but Allah a thing to Allah.�, centred, and enclosed in a circle. - Below that, the section of text �Sayyid A of C.�, centred, and enclosed in a horizontal oval. - The line �And of him we beg aid.�, in smaller type. - All the following lines are enclosed in a box filling most of each page, with a horizontal rule separating the lines of text. Each line fills the width of the box neatly, except for the last four lines (beginning �It is finished.�), which are centred. - Footnotes are presented, in smaller type than usual, at the outside edge of the page in which the reference occurs, and (as much as possible) level with the reference. - The placement of line breaks in the main body of this Appendix has been preserved from the original (book) text. ] THIS is the tree whose root is firm, and whose branches are spreading, and whose shade is perpetual: and the bearer is a good man� we beg of Allah to grant him purity of intention by the power of him upon whom Revelation descended and In- spiration! I have passed it on, and I, the poorest of men, and the ser- vant of the poor, am Sayyid A,[FN#2] son of Sayyid B the Kadiri, the servant of the prayer-rug of his grand- sire, of the Shaykh Abd al-Kadir Jilani, Allah sanctify his honoured tomb! Amen. A. There is no god but Allah�Shaykh Abd al-Kadir �a thing to Allah.[FN#3] Sayyid A Son of Sayyid B of C.[FN#4] And of him�In the name of Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate�we beg aid. Praise be to Allah, opener of the locks of hearts with his name, and withdrawer of the veils of hidden [p.328] things with his beneficence, and raiser of the flags of increase to those who persevere in thanking him. I praise him because that he hath made us of the people of Unity. And I thank him, being desirous of his benefits. And I bless and salute our Lord Mohammed, the best of his Prophets and of his Servants, and (I bless and salute) his (Mohammed's) family and companions, the excelling indignity, for the increase of their dignity and its augmentation. But afterwards thus saith the needy slave, who confesseth his sins and his weakness and his faults, and hopeth for the pardon of his Lord the Almighty�Sayyid A the Kadiri,son of Sayyid B the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Abu Bakr the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Ismail the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Abd al-Wahhab the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Nur al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Darwaysh the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Husam al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Nur al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Waly al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Zayn al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Sharaf al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Shams al-Din the Kadiri, son of Sayyid Mohammeda I-Hattak, son of Sayyid Abd al-Aziz, son of the [p.329] Sayyid of Sayyids, Polar-Star of Existence, the White Pearl, the Lord of the Reins of (worldy) possession, the Chief of (Allah's) friends, the incomparable Imam, the Essence negativing accidents, the Polar Star of Polar Stars,[FN#5] the Greatest Assistance,[FN#6] the Uniter of the Lover and the Beloved,[FN#7]the Sayyid (Prince), the Shaykh (Teacher), Muhiyal-Din, Abd al-Kadir of Jilan,[FN#8] Allah sanctify his honoured Sepulchre, and Allah enlighten his place of rest!�Son of Abu Salih Muse Jangi-dost, son of Sayyid Abdullah al-Jayli, son of Sayyid Yahya al-Zahid, son of Sayyid Mohammed, son of Sayyid Da'ud,son of Sayyid Musa, son of Sayyid Abdullah, son of Sayyid Musa al-Juni, son of Sayyid Abdullah al-Mahz, son of Sayyid Hasan al-Musanna,[FN#9] son of theImam Hasan, Son of the Imam and the Amir ofTrue Believers, Ali the son of Abu Talib�may Allah be satisfied with him!�Son of Abd al-Mut-Talib,[FN#10] son of Hashim, son of Abd al-Manaf, son of Kusay, son of Kilab, son of Murrat, son of Ka�ab, Son of Luwiyy, son of Ghalib, son of Fihr (Kuraysh), Son of Malik, son of Nazr, son of Kananah, son of Khuzaymah, son of Mudrikah, son of Iliyas, son of [p.330] Muzarr, son of Nizar, son of Adnan,[FN#11] son of Ada, son of Udad, son of Mahmisah, son of Hamal, son of Nayyit, son of Kuzar, son of Ismail, son of Ibrahim, son of Karikh, son of Kasir, son of Arghwa, son of Phaligh, son of Shalikh, son of Kaynan, son of Arfakhshad, son of Sam, son of Noah, son of Shays, son of Adam the Father of Mankind[FN#12]�with whom be Peace, and upon our Prophet the best of blessings and salutation!�and Adam was of dust, and dust is of the earth, and earth is of foam, and foam is of the wave, and the wave is of water,[FN#13] and water is of the rainy firmament, and the rainy firmament is of Power, and Power is of Will, and Will is of the Omniscience of the glorious God. But afterwards that good man, the approaching to his Lord, the averse to all besides him, the desirous of the abodes of futurity, the hoper for mercy, the Darwayah Abd-ullah[FN#14] son of the Pilgrim Joseph the Afghan,�henceforward let him be known by the name of "Darwaysh King-in-the-name-of-Allah!"�hath ccome to us and visited us and begged of us instruction in the Saying of Unity. I therefore taught him the saying which I learned by ordinance from my Shaykh and my instructor and [p.331] my paternal uncle Sayyid the Shaykh Abd al-Kadir[FN#15] the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Abu Bakr the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Ismail the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Abd al-Wahhab the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Nur al-Din the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Shahdarwaysh the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Husam al-Din the Kadiri, son of the Sayyid the Shaykh Nur al-Din the Kadiri, from his sire and Shaykh Waly al-Din the Kadiri, from his sire and Shaykh Zayn al-Din the Kadiri, from his sire and Shaykh Sharafil al-Din the Kadiri, from his sire and Shaykh Mohammed al-Hattak the Kadiri, from his sire and Shaykh Abd al-Aziz�Allah sanctify his honoured Sepulchre and Allah enlighten his Place of rest!�from his sire and Shaykh Sayyid the Polar Star of Existence, the White Pearl, the Polar Star of Holy Men, the Director of those that tread the Path, the Sayyid the Shaykh Muhiyy al-Din Abd al-Kadir of Jilan�Allah sanctify his honoured Sepulchre and Allah enlighten his place of rest! Amen!�from his Shaykh the Shaykh Abu-Sa'id al-Mubarak al-Makhzumi, from his Shaykh the Shaykh Abu 'I Hasan, al-Hankari, [p.332] from his Shaykh the Shaykh Abu Faras al-Tarsusi, from his Shaykh the Shaykh Abd al-Wahidal-Tamimi, from his Shaykh the Shaykh Abu 'l Kasim al-Junayd of Baghdad, from his Shaykh the Shaykh al-Sirri al-Sakati, from his Shaykh the Shaykh al-Ma'aruf al-Karkhi, from his Shaykh the Shaykh Da'ud al-Tai, from his Shaykh the Shaykh Habib al-'Ajami, from his Shaykh the Shaykh al-Hasan of Bussorah, from his Shaykh the Prince of True Believers, Ali Son of Abu Talib�Allah be satisfied with him! and Allah honour his countenance!�from the Prophet of Allah, upon whom may Allah have mercy, from Jibrail, from the Omnipotent, the Glorious. And afterwards we taught him (i.e. that good man Abdullah) the Saying of Unity, and ordered its recital 165 times after each Farizah,[FN#16] and on all occasions according to his capability. And Allah have mercy upon our Lord Mohammed and upon His Family and upon His Companions one and all! And praise be to Allah, Lord of the (three) worlds!It is finished.There is no god but Allah! Number[FN#17] 165. [FN#1] This document is written upon slips of paper pasted together, 4 feet 5 inches long, by about 6 1/2 inches broad, and contains altogether 71 lines below the triangle. The divisions are in red ink. It rolls up and fits into a cylinder of tin, to which are attached small silk cords, to sling it over the shoulder when travelling or on pilgrimage. [FN#2] The names are here omitted for obvious reasons. [FN#3] Facsimile of the seal of the Great Abd al-Kadir. This upon the document is a sign that the owner has become a master in the craft. [FN#4] This is the living Shaykh's seal, and is the only one applied to the apprentice's diploma. [FN#5] Or Prince of Princes, a particular degree in Tasawwuf. [FN#6] Ghaus (Assistance) also means a person who, in Tasawwuf, has arrived at the highest point to which fervour of devotion leads. [FN#7] The human soul, and its supreme source. [FN#8] For a short notice of this celebrated mystic, see d'Herbelot, "Abdalcader. [FN#9] "Hasan the Second," from whom sprung the Sharifs of Al-Hijaz. [FN#10] Father to Abdullah, Father of Mohammed. [FN#11] Dated by M.C. de Perceval about 130 years B.C. [FN#12] Thus, between Adnan and Adam we have eighteen generations! Al-Wakidi and Al-Tabiri give forty between Adnan and Ishmael, which Ibn Khaldun, confirmed by M.C. de Perceval, thinks is too small a number. The text, however, expresses the popular estimate. But it must be remembered that the Prophet used to say, "beyond Adnan none but Allah knoweth, and the genealogists lie." [FN#13] Moslems cleaving to the Neptunian theory of earthy origin. [FN#14] Your humble servant, gentle reader. [FN#15] The former genealogy proved my master to be what is technically called "Khalifah Jaddi," or hereditary in his dignity. The following table shows that he is also "Khulfai" (adopted to succeed), and gives the name and the descendants of the holy man who adopted him. [FN#16] Each obligatory prayer is called a Farizah. The Shaykh therefore directs the Saying of Unity, i.e. La ilaha illa llah, to be repeated 825 times per diem. [FN#17] i.e. number of repetitions after each obligatory prayer. [p.333]APPENDIX IV. THE NAVIGATION AND VOYAGES OF LUDOVICUS VERTOMANNUS, GENTLEMAN OF ROME. A.D. 1503. THE first of the pilgrims to Meccah and Al-Madinah who has left an authentic account of the Holy Cities is �Lewes Wertomannus (Lodovico Bartema), gentelman of the citie of Rome.[FN#1]� If any man,� says this aucthor, �shall demand of me the cause of this my voyage, certeynely I can shewe no better reason than is the ardent desire of knowledge, which hath moved many other to see the world and the miracles of God therein.� In the year of our Lord 1503 he departed from Venice �with prosperous wynds,� arrived at Alexandria and visited Babylon of Egypt, Berynto, Tripoli, Antioch, and Damascus. He started from the latter place on the 8th of April, 1503, �in familiaritie and friendshyppe with a certayne Captayne Mameluke� (which term he applies to �al such Christians as have forsaken theyr fayth, to serve the Mahumetans and Turks�), and in the garb of a [p.334] �Mamaluchi renegado.� He estimates the Damascus Caravan to consist of 40,000 men and 35,000 camels, nearly six times its present number.[FN#2] On the way they were �enforced to conflict with a great multitude of the Arabians:� but the three score mamluks composing their escort were more than a match for 50,000 Badawin. On one occasion the Caravan, attacked by 24,000 Arabians, slew 1500 of the enemies, losing in the conflict only a man and a woman.[FN#3] This �marveyle��which is probably not without some exaggeration�he explains by the �strength and valiantness of the Mamalukes,� by the practice (still popular) of using the �camells in the steede of a bulwarke, and placing the merchaunts in the myddest of the army (that is), in the myddest of the camelles, whyle the pilgrims fought manfully on every side;� and, finally, by the circumstance that the Arabs were unarmed, and �weare only a thynne loose vesture, and are besyde almost naked: theyr horses also beyng euyll furnished, and without saddles or other furniture.� The Hijazi Badawi of this day is a much more dangerous enemy; the matchlock and musket have made him so; and the only means of crippling him is to prevent the importation of firearms and lead, and by slow degrees to disarm the population. After performing the ceremonies of pilgrimage at Al-Madinah and Meccah, he escaped to Zida or Gida (Jeddah), �despite the trumpetter of the caravana giving warning to all the Mamalukes to make readie their horses, to direct their journey toward Syria, with proclamation of death to all that should refuse so to [p.335] doe,� and embarked for Persia upon the Red Sea. He touched at certain ports of Al-Yaman, and got into trouble at Aden, �where the Mahumetans took him,� and �put shackles on his legges, which came by occasion of a certayne idolatour, who cryed after him, saying, O, Christian Dogge, borne of Dogges.[FN#4]� The lieutenant of the Sultan �assembled his council,� consulted them about putting the traveller to death as a �spye of Portugales,� and threw him ironed into a dungeon. On being carried shackled into the presence of the Sultan, Bartema said that he was a �Roman, professed a Mamaluke in Babylon of Alcayr;� but when told to utter the formula of the Moslem faith, he held his tongue, �eyther that it pleased not God, or that for feare and scruple of conscience he durst not.� For which offence he was again �deprived of ye fruition of heaven.� But, happily for Bartema, in those days the women of Arabia were �greatly in love with whyte men.� Before escaping from Meccah, he lay hid in the house of a Mohammedan, and could not express his gratitude for the good wife�s care; �also,� he says, �this furthered my good enterteynement, that there was in the house a fayre young mayde, the niese of the Mahumetan, who was greatly in loue with me.� At Aden he was equally fortunate. One of the Sultan�s three wives, on the departure of her lord and master, bestowed her heart upon the traveller. She was �very faire and comely, after theyr maner, and of colour inclynyng to blacke:� she [p.336] would spend the whole day in beholding Bartema, who wandered about simulating madness,[FN#5] and �in the meane season, divers tymes, sent him secretly muche good meate by her maydens.� He seems to have played his part to some purpose, under the colour of madness, converting a �great fatt shepe� to Mohammedanism, killing an ass because he refused to be a proselyte, and, finally, he �handeled a Jewe so euyll that he had almost killed hym.� After sundry adventures and a trip to Sanaa, he started for Persia with the Indian fleet, in which, by means of fair promises, he had made friendship with a certain captain. He visited Zayla and Berberah in the Somali country, and at last reached Hormuz. The 3rd book �entreateth of Persia,� the 4th of �India, and of the cities and other notable thynges seene there.� The 8th book contains the �voyage of India,� in which he includes Pegu, Sumatra, Borneo, and Java, where, �abhorryng the beastly maners� of a cannibal population, he made but a short stay. Returning to Calicut, he used �great subtiltie,� escaped to the �Portugales,� and was well received by the viceroy. After describing in his 7th book the �viage or navigation of Ethiopia, Melinda, Mombaza, Mozambrich (Mozambique), and Zaphala (Sofala),� he passed the Cape called �Caput Bonæ Spei, and repaired to the goodly citie of Luxburne (Lisbon),� where he had the honour of kissing hands. The king confirmed with his great seal the �letters patentes,� whereby his lieutenant the viceroy of India had given the pilgrim the order of knighthood. �And thus,� says Bartema by way of conclusion, �departing from thence with the kyngs pasporte and safe conducte, at the length after these my long and great trauayles and [p.337] dangers, I came to my long desyred native countrey, the citie of Rome, by the grace of God, to whom be all honour and glory.� This old traveller�s pages abound with the information to be collected in a fresh field by an unscrupulous and hard-headed observer. They are of course disfigured with a little romancing. His Jews at Khaybor, near Al-Madinah, were five or six spans long. At Meccah he saw two unicorns, the younger �at the age of one yeare, and lyke a young coolte; the horne of this is of the length of four handfuls.[FN#6]� And so credulous is he about anthropophagi, that he relates of Mahumet (son to the Sultan of Sanaa) how he �by a certayne naturall tyrannye and madnesse delyteth to eate man�s fleeshe, and therefore secretly kylleth many to eate them.[FN#7]� But all things well considered, Lodovico Bartema, for correctness of observation and readiness of wit, stands in the foremost rank of the old Oriental travellers. I proceed to quote, and to illustrate with notes, the few chapters devoted in the 1st volume of this little-known work to Meccah and Al-Madinah. CHAPTER XI.�Of a Mountayne inhabited with Jewes, and of the Citie of Medinathalnabi, where Mahumet was buried. In the space of eyght dayes we came to a mountayne which conteyneth in circuite ten or twelve myles. This is inhabited with Jewes, to the number of fyue thousande [p.338] or thereabout. They are very little stature, as of the heyght of fyue or sixe spannes, and some muche lesse. They have small voyces lyke women, and of blacke colour, yet some blacker then other. They feede of none other meate than goates fleshes.[FN#8] They are circumcised, and deny not themselues to be Jewes. If by chaunce, any Mahumetan come into their handes, they flay him alyue. At the foot of the mountayne we founde a certayne hole, out of whiche flowed aboundance of water. By fyndyng this opportunitie, we laded sixtiene thousand camels; which thyng greatly offended the Jewes. They wandred in that mountayne, scattered lyke wylde goates or prickettes, yet durst they not come downe, partly for feare, and partly for hatred agaynst the Mahumetans. Beneath the mountaine are seene seuen or eyght thorne trees, very fayre, and in them we found a payre of turtle doues, which seemed to vs in maner a miracle, hauying before made so long journeyes, and sawe neyther beast nor foule. Then proceedyng two dayes journey, we came to a certayne citie name Medinathalnabi: four myles from the said citie, we founde a well. Heere the carauana (that is, the whole hearde of camelles) rested. And remayning here one day, we washed ourselves, and changed our shertes, the more freshely to enter into the citie; it is well peopled, and conteyneth about three hundred houses; the walles are lyke bulwarkes of earth, and the houses both of stone and bricke. The soile about the citie is vtterly barren, except that about two myles from the citie are seene about fyftie palme trees that beare dates.[FN#9] There, by a certayne garden, runneth a course of water fallyng into a lower playne, where also passingers are accustomed to water theyr camelles.[FN#10] And here opportunitie now serueth to [p.339] confute the opinion of them whiche thynke that the arke or toombe of wicked Mahumet to hang in the ayre, not borne vp with any thing. As touching which thyng, I am vtterly of an other opinion, and affirme this neyther to be true, nor to haue any lykenesse of trueth, as I presently behelde these thynges, and sawe the place where Mahumet is buried, in the said citie of Medinathalnabi: for we taryed there three dayes, to come to the true knowledge of all these thynges. When wee were desirous to enter into theyr Temple (which they call Meschita,[FN#11] and all other churches by the same name), we coulde not be suffered to enter without a companion little or great. They taking vs by the hande, brought vs to the place where they saye Mahumet is buried. CHAPTER XII.�Of the Temple or Chapell, and Sepulchre of Mahumet, and of his Felowes. His temple is vaulted, and is a hundred pases in length, fourscore in breadth; the entry into it is by two gates; from the sydes it is couered with three vaultes; it is borne vp with four hundred columnes or pillers of white brick; there are seene, hanging lampes, about the number of three thousande. From the other part of the temple in the first place of the Meschita, is seene a tower of the circuite of fyue pases vaulted on euery syde, and couered with a cloth or silk, and is borne vp with a grate of copper, curiously wrought and distant from it two pases; and of them that goe thyther, is seene as it were through a lateese.[FN#12] Towarde the lefte hande, is the way to the tower, and when you come thyther, you must enter by a narower gate. On euery syde of those gates or doores, are seene many bookes in manner of a librarie, on the one syde 20, and on the other syde 25. These contayne the filthie traditions and lyfe of Mahumet and his fellowes: [p.340] within the sayde gate is seene a sepulchre, (that is) a digged place, where they say Mahumet is buried and his felowes, which are these, Nabi, Bubacar, Othomar, Aumar, and Fatoma[FN#13]; but Mahumet was theyr chiefe captayne, and an Arabian borne. Hali was sonne in lawe to Mahumet, for he tooke to wyfe his daughter Fatoma. Bubacar is he who they say was exalted to the dignitie of a chiefe counseller and great gouernour, although he came not to the high degree of an apostle, or prophet, as dyd Mahumet. Othomar and Aumar were chief captaynes of the army of Mahumet. Euery of these haue their proper bookes of factes and traditions. And hereof proceedeth the great dissention and discorde of religion and maners among this kynde of filthie men, whyle some confirm one doctrine, and some another, by reason of theyr dyuers sectes of Patrons, Doctours, and Saintes, as they call them. By this meanes are they marueylously diuided among themselues, and lyke beastes kyll themselues for such quarelles of dyuers opinions, and all false. This also is the chiefe cause of warre between the sophie of Persia and the great Turke, being neuerthelesse both Mahumetans, and lyue in mortall hatred one agaynst the other for the mayntenaunce of theyr sectes, saintes and apostles, whyle euery of them thynketh theyr owne to bee best. CHAPTER XIII.�Of the Secte of Mahumet. Now will we speake of the maners and sect of Mahumet. Vnderstande, therefore, that in the highest part of the tower aforesayde, is an open round place. Now shall you vnderstande what crafte they vsed to deceyue our carauans. The first euening that we came thyther to see the sepulchre of Mahumet, our captayne [p.341] sent for the chiefe priest of the temple to come to him, and when he came, declared vnto him that the only cause of his commyng thyther was to visite the sepulchre and bodie of Nabi, by which woord is signified the prophet Mahumet; and that he vnderstoode that the price to be admitted to the syght of these mysteries should be foure thousande seraphes of golde. Also that he had no parents, neyther brothers, sisters, kinsefolkes, chyldren, or wyues; neyther that he came thyther to buy merchaundies, as spices, or bacca, or nardus, or any maner of precious jewelles; but only for very zeale of religion and saluation of his soule, and was therefore greatly desirous to see the bodie of the prophet. To whom the priest of the temple (they call them Side), with countenance lyke one that were distraught[FN#14], made aunswere in this maner: �Darest thou with those eyes, with the which thou hast committed so many horrible sinnes, desyre to see him by whose sight God hath created heauen and earth?� To whom agayne our captayne aunswered thus: �My Lord, you have sayde truly; neuertheless I pray you that I may fynd so much fauour with you, that I may see the Prophet; whom when I haue seene, I will immediately thrust out myne eyes.� The Side aunswered, �O Prince, I will open all thynges unto thee. So it is that no man can denye but that our Prophet dyed heere, who, if he woulde, might haue died at Mecha. But to shewe in himself a token of humilitie, and thereby to giue vs example to folowe him, was wyllyng rather heere than elsewhere to departe out of this worlde, and was incontinent of angelles borne into heauen, and there receyued as equall with them.� Then our captayne sayde to him, �Where is Jesus Christus, the sonne of Marie?� To whom the Side answered, �At [p.342] the feete of Mahumet.[FN#15]� Then sayde our captayne agayne: �It suffyceth, it suffyceth; I will knowe no more.� After this our captayne commyng out of the temple, and turnyng to vs, sayd, �See (I pray you) for what goodly stuffe I would haue paide three thousande seraphes of golde.� The same daye at euenyng, at almost three a clock of the nyght, ten or twelue of the elders of the secte of Mahumet entered into our carauana, which remayned not paste a stone caste from the gate of the citie.[FN#16] These ranne hyther and thyther, crying lyke madde men, with these wordes, �Mahumet, the messenger and Apostle of God, shall ryse agayne! O Prophet, O God, Mahumet shall ryse agayne! Have mercy on vs God!� Our captayne and we, all raysed with this crye, tooke weapon with all expedition, suspectyng that the Arabians were come to rob our carauana; we asked what was the cause of that exclamation, and what they cryed? For they cryed as doe the Christians, when sodeynly any marueylous thyng chaunceth. The Elders answered, �Sawe you not the lyghtning whiche shone out of the sepulchre of the Prophet Mahumet[FN#17]?� Our captayne answered that he sawe nothing; and we also beyng demaunded, answered in lyke maner. Then sayde one of the old men, �Are you slaues?� that is to say, bought men; meanyng thereby Mamalukes. Then sayde our captayne, �We are in deede Mamalukes.� Then agayne the old man sayde, �You, my Lordes, cannot see heauenly thinges, as being Neophiti, (that is) newly come to the fayth, and not yet confirmed in our religion.� To this our captayne answered [p.343] agayne, �O you madde and insensate beastes, I had thought to haue giuen you three thousande peeces of gold; but now, O you dogges and progenie of dogges, I will gyue you nothing.� It is therefore to bee vnderstoode, that none other shynyng came out of the sepulchre, then a certayne flame which the priests caused to come out of the open place of the towre[FN#18] spoken of here before, whereby they would have deceyved vs. And therefore our captayne commaunded that thereafter none of vs should enter into the temple. Of this also we haue most true experience, and most certaynely assure you that there is neyther iron or steele or the magnes stone that should so make the toombe of Mahumet to hange in the ayre, as some haue falsely imagined; neyther is there any mountayne nearer than foure myles: we remayned here three dayes to refreshe our company. To this citie victualles and all kynde of corne is brought from Arabia Fælix, and Babylon or Alcayr, and also from Ethiope, by the Redde Sea, which is from this citie but four dayes journey.[FN#19] CHAPTER XIV.�The Journey to Mecha.[FN#20] After we were satisfied, or rather wearyed, with the filthinesse and lothesomenesse of the trumperyes, deceites, trifles, and hypocrisis of the religion of Mahumet, we determined to goe forward on our journey; and that by guyding of a pylot who might directe our course with the mariners boxe or compasse, with also the carde of the sea, euen as is vsed in sayling on the sea. And thus bendyng our journey to the west we founde a very fayre [p.344] well or fountayne, from the which flowed great aboundance of water. The inhabitantes affyrme that Sainct Marke the Euangelist was the aucthour of this fountayne, by a miracle of God, when that region was in maner burned with incredible drynesse.[FN#21] Here we and our beastes were satisfied with drynke. I may not here omit to speake of the sea of sande, and of the daungers thereof. This was founde of vs before we came to the mountayne of the Jewes. In this sea of sande we traueiled the journey of three days and nightes: this is a great brode plaine, all couered with white sande, in maner as small as floure. If by euil fortune it so chaunce that any trauaile that way southward, if in the mean time the wind come to the north, they are ouerwhelmed with sande, that they scatter out of the way, and can scarsely see the one the other ten pases of. And therefore the inhabitants trauayling this way, are inclosed in cages of woodde, borne with camels, and lyue in them,[FN#22] so passing the jorney, guided by pilots with maryner�s compasse and card, euen as on the sea, as we haue sayde. In this jorney, also many peryshe for thirst, and many for drynkyng to muche, when they finde suche good waters. In these sandes is founde Momia, which is the fleshe of such men as are drowned in these sandes, and there dryed by the heate of the sunne: so that those bodyes are preserued from putrifaction by the drynesse of the sand; and therefore that drye fleshe is esteemed medicinable.[FN#23] Albeit there is [p.345] another kynde of more pretious Momia, which is the dryed and embalmed bodies of kynges and princes, whiche of long tyme haue been preserued drye without corruption. When the wynde bloweth from the northeast, then the sand riseth and is driuen against a certayne mountayne, which is an arme of the mount Sinai.[FN#24] There we found certayne pyllers artificially wrought, whiche they call Ianuan. On the lefte hande of the sayde mountayne, in the toppe or rydge thereof, is a denne, and the entrie into it is by an iron gate. Some fayne that in that place Mahumet lyued in contemplation. Here we heard a certayne horrible noyse and crye; for passyng the sayde mountayne, we were in so great daunger, that we thought neuer to have escaped. Departyng, therefore, from the fountayne, we continued our journey for the space of ten dayes, and twyse in the way fought with fyftie thousande Arabians, and so at the length came to the citie of Mecha, where al things were troubled by reason of the warres betweene two brethren, contendyng whiche of them shoulde possesse the kyngedome of Mecha. CHAPTER XV.�Of the Fourme and Situation of the Citie of Mecha; and why the Mohumetans resort thyther. Nowe the tyme requireth to speake somewhat of the famous citie of Mecha, or Mecca, what it is, howe it is situate, and by whom it is gouerned. The citie is very fayre and well inhabited, and conteyneth in rounde fourme syxe thousande houses, as well buylded as ours, and some that cost three or foure thousande peeces of golde: it hath no walles. About two furlongs from the citie is a mount, where the way is cutte out,[FN#25] whiche leadeth to a playne [p.346] beneath. It is on euery syde fortified with mountains, in the stead of walles or bulwarkes, and hath foure entries. The Gouernour is a Soltan, and one of the foure brethern of the progenie of Mahumet, and is subject to the Soltan of Babylon of whom we haue spoken before. His other three brethren be at continuall warre with hym. The eighteen daye of Maye we entered into the citie by the north syde; then, by a declynyng way, we came into a playne. On the south syde are two mountaynes, the one very neere the other, distant onely by a little valley, which is the way that leadeth to the gate of Mecha. On the east syde is an open place betweene two mountaynes, lyke vnto a valley,[FN#26] and is the waye to the mountayne where they sacrifice to the Patriarkes Abraham and Isaac.[FN#27] This mountayne is from the citie about ten or twelve myles, and of the heyght of three stones cast: it is of stone as harde as marble, yet no marble.[FN#28] In the toppe of the mountaine is a temple or Meschita, made after their fashion, and hath three wayes to enter into it.[FN#29] At the foote of the mountayne are two cesterns, which conserue waters without corruption: of these, the one is reserued to minister water to the camels of the carauana of Babylon or Alcayr; and the other, for them of Damasco. It is rayne water, and is deriued far of.[FN#30] But to returne to speake of the citie; for as touchyng the maner of sacrifice which they vse at the foote of the mountayne wee wyll speake hereafter. Entryng, therefore, into the citie, wee founde there the carauana of Memphis, or Babylon, which prevented vs eyght dayes, and came not the waye that wee came. This carauana [p.347] conteyned threescore and foure thousande camelles, and a hundred Mamalukes to guyde them. And here ought you to consyder that, by the opinion of all men, this citie is greatly cursed of God, as appereth by the great barrennesse thereof, for it is destitute of all maner of fruites and corne.[FN#31] It is scorched with drynesse for lacke of water, and therefore the water is there growen to suche pryce, that you cannot for twelve pence buye as much water as wyll satysfie your thyrst for one day. Nowe, therefore, I wyll declare what prouision they have for victuales. The most part is brought them from the citie of Babylon, otherwyse named Memphis, Cayrus, or Alcayr, a citie of the ryuer of Nilus in Egypt as we have sayde before, and is brought by the Red Sea (called Mare Erythreum) from a certayne port named Gida, distaunt from Mecha fourtie myles.[FN#32] The rest of theyr prouisions is brought from Arabia Faelix, (that is) the happye or blessed Arabia: so named for the fruitfulnesse thereof, in respect of the other two Arabiaes, called Petrea and Diserta, that is, stonye and desart. They haue also muche corne from Ethyopia. Here we found a marueylous number of straungers and peregrynes, or pylgryms; of the whiche some came from Syria, some from Persia, and other from both the East Indiaes, (that is to say) both India within the ryuer of Ganges, and also the other India without the same ryuer. I neuer sawe in anye place greater abundaunce and frequentation of people, forasmuche as I could perceyue by tarrying there the space of 20 dayes. These people resort thyther for diuers causes, as some for merchandies, some to obserue theyr vowe of pylgrymage, and other to haue pardon for theyr sinnes: as touchyng the whiche we wyll speake more hereafter. [p.348]CHAPTER XVII.�Of the Pardons or Indulgences of Mecha. Let vs now returne to speake of the pardons of pilgryms, for the which so many strange nations resort thither. In the myddest of the citie is a temple, in fashyon lyke vnto the colossus of Rome, the amphitheatrum, I meane, lyke vnto a stage, yet not of marbled or hewed stones, but of burnt bryckes; for this temple, like vnto an amphitheatre, hath fourscore and ten, or an hundred gates,[FN#33] and is vaulted. The entrance is by a discent of twelve stayers or degrees on euery part[FN#34]: in the church porche, are sold only jewels and precious stones. In the entry the gylted walles shyne on euery syde with incomparable splendour. In the lower part of the temple (that is vnder the vaulted places) is seene a maruelous multitude of men; for there are fyue or sixe thousande men that sell none other thyng then sweete oyntmentes, and especially a certayne odoriferous and most sweete pouder wherewith dead bodyes are embalmed.[FN#35] And hence, all maner of sweete sauours are carried in maner into the countreys of all the Mahumetans. It passeth all beleefe to thynke of the exceedyng sweetnesse of these sauours, farre surmounting the shoppes of the apothecaries. The 23 daye of Maye the pardones began to be graunted in the temple, and in what maner we wyll nowe declare. The temple in the myddest is open without any inclosyng, and in the myddest also thereof is a turrett of the largnesse of sixe passes in cercuitie,[FN#36] and inuolued or hanged with cloth or [p.349] tapestry of sylke[,][FN#37]and passeth not the heyght of a man. They enter into the turret by a gate of syluer, and is on euery syde besette with vesselles full of balme. On the day of Pentecost licence is graunted to al men to se these thynges. The inhabitantes affyrm that balme or balsame to be part of the treasure of the Soltan that is Lorde of Mecha. At euery vaulte of the turret is fastened a rounde circle of iron, lyke to the ryng of a doore.[FN#38] The 22 day of Maye, a great multitude of people beganne, early in the mornyng before day, seuen tymes to walke about the turret, kyssing euery corner thereof, often tymes feelyng and handelyng them. From this turret about tenne or twelue pases is an other turret, like a chappell buylded after our maner. This hath three or foure entryes: in the myddest thereof is a well of threescore and tenne cubites deepe; the water of this well is infected with salt peter or saltniter.[FN#39] Egypt men are therevnto appoynted to drawe water for all the people: and when a multitude of people haue seuen tymes gone rounde about the first turret, they come to this well, and touchyng the mouth or brym thereof, they saye thus, �Be it in the honour of God; God pardon me, and forgeue me my synnes.� When these woordes are sayde, they that drawe the water powre three buckettes of water on the headdes of euery one of them, and stand neere about the well, and washe them all wette from the headde to the foote, although they be apparelled with sylk. Then the dotyng fooles dreame that they are cleane from all theyr synnes, and that theyr synnes are forgeuen them. They saye, furthermore, that [p.350] the fyrst turret, whereof we haue spoken, was the fyrst house that euer Abraham buylded, and, therefore, whyle they are yet all wette of the sayd washyng, they go to the mountayne, where (as we have sayde before) they are accustomed to sacrifice to Abraham.[FN#40] And remayning there two daies, they make the said sacrifice to Abraham at the foote of the mountayne. CHAPTER XVIII.�The Maner of sacrificing at Mecha. Forasmuche as for the most parte noble spirites are delyted with nouelties of great and straunge thyngs, therefore, to satisfie their expectation, I wyll describe theyr maner of sacrifycyng. Therefore, when they intend to sacrifice, some of them kyll three sheepe, some foure, and tenne; so that the butcherie sometyme so floweth with blood that in one sacrifice are slayne above three thousande sheepe. They are slayne at the rysyng of the sunne, and shortly after are distributed to the poore for God�s sake: for I sawe there a great and confounded multitude of poor people as to the number of 20 thousande. These make many and long dyches in the feeldes, where they keepe fyre with camels doong, and rost or seeth the fleshe that is geuen them, and eate it euen there. I beleue that these poore people came thither rather for hunger than for deuotion, which I thinke by this coniectur,�that great abundance of cucumbers are brought thyther from Arabia Fælix, whiche they eate, castyng away the parynges without their houses or tabernacles, where a multitude of the sayde poore people geather them euen out of the myre and sande, and eate them, and are so greedie of these parynges that they fyght who may geather most.[FN#41] The [p.351] daye folowing,[FN#42] their Cadi (which are in place with them as with vs the preachers of God�s worde) ascended into a hygh mountayne, to preach to the people that remaineth beneath; and preached to them in theyr language the space of an houre. The summe of the sermon was, that with teares they should bewayle theyr sinnes, and beate their brestes with sighes and lamentation. And the preacher hymselfe with loude voyce spake these wordes, �O Abraham beloued of God, O Isaac chosen of God, and his friend, praye to God for the people of Nabi.� When these woordes were sayde, sodenly were heard lamenting voyces. When the sermon was done, a rumor was spredde that a great armye of Arabians, to the number of twentie thousande, were commyng. With which newes, they that kept the caraunas beyng greatly feared, with all speede, lyke madde men, fledde into the citie of Mecha, and we agayne bearyng newes of the Arabians approche, fledde also into the citie. But whyle wee were in the mydwaye between the mountayne and Mecha, we came by a despicable wall, of the breadthe of foure cubites: the people passyng this wall, had couered the waye with stones, the cause whereof, they saye to be this: when Abraham was commaunded to sacrifice his sonne, he wylled his sonne Isaac to folowe hym to the place where he should execute the commaundement of God. As Isaac went to follow his father, there appeared to him in the way a Deuyl, in lykenesse of a fayre and freendly person, not farre from the sayde wall, and asked hym freendlye whyther he went. Isaac answered that he went to his [p.352] father who tarryed for him. To this the enemie of mankynde answered, that it was best for hym to tarrye, and yf that he went anye further, his father would sacrifice him. But Isaac nothyng feareyng this aduertisement of the Deuyl, went forward, that his father on hym myght execute the commaundement of God: and with this answere (as they saye) they Deuyell departed. Yet as Isaac went forwarde, the Diuell appeared to hym agayne in the lykenesse of an other frendlye person, and forbade hym as before. Then Isaac taking vp a stone in that place, hurlde it at the Deuyl and wounded him in the forehead: In witnesse and remembraunce whereof, the people passyng that waye when they come neare the wall, are accustomed to cast stones agaynst it, and from thence go into the citie.[FN#43] As we went this way, the ayre was in maner darkened with a multitude of stock doues. They saye that these doues, are of the progenie of the doue that spake in the eare of Mahumet, in lykenesse of the Holye Ghost.[FN#44] These are seene euery where, as in the villages, houses, tauernes and graniers of corne and ryse, and are so tame that one can scharsely dryue them away. To take them or kyll them is esteemed a thyng worthy death,[FN#45] [p.353] and therefore a certayne pensyon is geuen to nourysshe them in the temple. CHAPTER XX.�Of diuers thynges which chaunced to me in Mecha; and of Zida, a port of Mecha. It may seeme good here to make mention of certayne thynges, in the which is seene sharpenesse of witte in case of vrgent necessitie, which hath no lawe as sayeth the prouerbe, for I was dryuen to the point howe I myght prieuly escape from Mecha. Therefore whereas my Captayne gaue me charge to buy certayne thynges, as I was in the market place, a certayne Mamaluke knewe me to be a christian, and therefore in his owne language spake vnto me these woordes, �Inte mename,� that is, whence art thou?[FN#46] To whom I answered that I was a Mahumetan. But he sayde, Thou sayest not truely. I sayde agayne, by the head of Mahumet I am a Mahumetan. Then he sayde agayne, Come home to my house, I folowed hym willingly. When we were there, he began to speake to me in the Italian tongue, and asked me agayne from whence I was, affyrming that he knewe me, and that I was no Mahumetan: also that he had been sometyme in Genua and Venice. And that his woordes myght be better beleeued, he rehearsed many thinges which testified that he sayed trueth. When I vnderstoode this, I confessed freely, that I was a Romane, but professed to the fayth of Mahumet in the citie of Babylon, and there made one of the Mamalukes; whereof he seemed greatly to reioyce and therefore vsed me honourably. But because my desyre was yet to goe further, I asked the Mahumetan whether that citie of Mecha was so famous as all the world spake of it: and inquired of him where was the great aboundaunce of pearles, precious stones, spices, and other rich merchandies that the bruite went of to be in that citie. And all my talke was to the ende [p.354] to grope the mynde of the Mahumetan, that I might know the cause why such thinges were not brought thyther as in tyme paste. But to auoyde all suspition, I durst here make no mention of the dominion which the Kyng of Portugale had in the most parte of that ocean, and of the gulfes of the Redde Sea and Persia. Then he began with more attentyue mynde, in order to declare vnto me the cause why that marte was not so greatly frequented as it had been before, and layde the only faulte thereof in the Kyng of Portugale. But when he had made mention of the kyng, I began of purpose to detracte his fame, lest the Mahumetan might thinke that I reioyced that the Christians came thyther for merchandies. When he perceyued that I was of profession an enemy to the Christians, he had me yet in greater estimation, and proceeded to tell me many thynges more. When I was well instructed in all thynges, I spake vnto him friendly these woordes in the Mahumet�s language Menaba Menalhabi, that is to say, �I pray you assist mee.[FN#47]� He asked mee wherein. �To help me (sayed I) howe I may secretly departe hence.� Confyrmyng by great othes, that I would goe to those kinges that were most enemies to the Christians: affyrmyng furthermore, that I knewe certain secretes greatly to be esteemed, which if they were knowen to the sayde kynges, I doubted not but that in shorte tyme I should bee sent for from Mecha. Astonyshed at these woordes, he sayde vnto mee, I pray you what arte or secrete doe you know? I answered, that I would giue place to no man in makyng of all manner of gunnes and artillerie. Then sayde hee, �praysed be Mahumet who sent thee hyther, to do hym and his saintes good seruice:� and willed me to remayne secretly in his [p.355] house with his wyfe, and requyred me earnestly to obtayne leaue of our Captayne that under his name he myght leade from Mecha fifteine camelles laden with spices, without paying any custome: for they ordinarily paye to the Soltan thirtie seraphes[FN#48] of golde, for transportyng of such merchandies for the charge of so many camelles. I put him in good hope of his request, he greatly reioyced, although he would ask for a hundred, affyrmyng that might easily be obteyned by the priuileges of the Mamalukes, and therefore desyred hym that I might safely remayne in his house. Then nothyng doubtyng to obtayn his request, he greatly reioyced, and talkyng with me yet more freely, gaue me further instructions and counsayled me to repayre to a certayne kyng of the greater India, in the kyngdome and realme of Decham[FN#49] whereof we will speake hereafter. Therefore the day before the carauana departed from Mecha, he willed me to lye hydde in the most secrete parte of his house. The day folowyng, early in the mornyng the trumpetter of the carauana gaue warning to all the Mamalukes to make ready their horses, to directe their journey toward Syria, with proclamation of death to all that should refuse so to doe. When I hearde the sounde of the trumpet, and was aduertised of the streight commaundement, I was marueylously troubled in minde, and with heauy countenaunce desired the Mahumetan�s wife not to bewraye me, and with earnest prayer committed myselfe to the mercie of God. On the Tuesday folowyng, our carauana departed from Mecha, and I remayned in the Mahumetans house with his wyfe, but he folowed the carauana. Yet before he departed, he gaue commaundement to his wyfe to bryng me to the carauana, which shoulde departe from Zida[FN#50] the porte of Mecha to goe into India. This porte is distant from Mecha 40 miles. Whilest I laye [p.356] thus hyd in the Mahumetans house, I can not expresse how friendly his wyfe vsed me. This also furthered my good enterteynement, that there was in the house a fayre young mayde, the niese of the Mahumetan, who was greatly in loue with me. But at that tyme, in the myddest of those troubles and feare, the fyre of Venus was almost extincte in mee: and therefore with daliaunce of fayre woordes and promises, I styll kepte my selfe in her fauour. Therefore the Friday folowyng, about noone tyde, I departed, folowyng the carauana of India. And about myd nyght we came to a certayne village of the Arabians, and there remayned the rest of that nyght, and the next day tyll noone. From hence we went forwarde on our journey toward Zida, and came thyther in the silence of the nyght. This citie hath no walles, yet fayre houses, somewhat after the buyldyng of Italie. Here is great aboundaunce of all kynd of merchandies, by reason of resorte in manner of all nations thyther, except jewes and christians, to whom it is not lawfull to come thyther. As soone as I entered into the citie, I went to their temple or Meschita, where I sawe a great multitude of poore people, as about the number of 25 thousande, attendyng a certayne pilot who should bryng them into their countrey. Heere I suffered muche trouble and affliction, beyng enforced to hyde myselfe among these poore folkes, fayning myselfe very sicke, to the ende that none should be inquisityue what I was, whence I came, or whyther I would. The lord of this citie is the Soltan of Babylon, brother to the Soltan of Mecha, who is his subiecte. The inhabitauntes are Mahumetans. The soyle is vnfruitfull, and lacketh freshe water. The sea beateth agaynst the towne. There is neuerthelesse aboundance of all thinges: but brought thyther from other places, as from Babylon of Nilus, Arabia F[æ]lix, and dyuers other places. The heate is here so great, that men are in maner dryed up therewith. [p.357] And therefore there is euer a great number of sicke folkes. The citie conteyneth about fyue hundred houses. After fyftiene dayes were past, I couenaunted with a pilot, who was ready to departe from thence into Persia, and agreed of the price, to goe with him. There lay at anker in the hauen almost a hundred brigantines and foistes,[FN#51] with diuers boates and barkes of sundry sortes, both with ores and without ores. Therefore after three days, gyuyng wynde to our sayles, we entered into the Redde Sea, otherwise named Mare Erythræum. [FN#1] I have consulted the �Navigation and Voyages of Lewes Wertomannus to the Regions of Arabia, Egypt, Persia, Syria, Ethiopia, and East India, both within and without the River of Ganges, &c., conteyning many notable and straunge things both Historicall and Natural. Translated out of Latine into Englyshe by Richarde Eden. In the year of our Lord, 1576.��(Hakluyt�s Voyages, vol. iv.) The curious reader will also find the work in Purchas (Pilgrimmes and Pilgrimage, vol. ii.) and Ramusio (Raccolta delle Navigasioni e Viaggi, tom. i.). The Travels of Bartema were first published at Milan, A.D. 1511, and the first English translation appeared in Willes and Eden�s Decades, 4to. A.D. 1555. [FN#2] The number of pilgrims in this Caravan is still grossly exaggerated. I cannot believe that it contains more than 7000 of both sexes, and all ages. [FN#3] This may confirm Strabo�s account of [Æ]lius Gallus� loss, after a conflict with a host of Arabs�two Roman soldiers. Mons. Jomard, noticing the case, pleasantly remarks, that the two individuals in question are to be pitied for their extreme ill-luck. [FN#4] This venerable form of abuse still survives the lapse of time. One of the first salutations reaching the ears of the �Overlands� at Alexandria is some little boys� Ya Nasrani Kalb awani, &c., &c.� O Nazarene, O dog obscene, &c., &c. In Percy�s Reliques we read of the Knight calling his Moslem opponent �unchristen hounde,��a retort courteous to the �Christen hounde,� previously applied to him by the �Pagan.� [FN#5] For a full account of the mania fit I must refer the curious reader to the original (Book ii. chap. v.) The only mistake the traveller seems to have committed, was that, by his ignorance of the rules of ablution, he made men agree that he was �no sainct, but a madman.� [FN#6] He proceeds, however, to say that �the head is lyke a hart�s,� the �legges thynne and slender, lyke a fawne or hyde, the hoofs divided much like the feet of a goat�; that they were sent from Ethiopia (the Somali country), and were �shewed to the people for a myracle.� They might, therefore, possibly have been African antelopes, which a lusus naturæ had deprived of their second horn. But the suspicion of fable remains. [FN#7] This is a tale not unfamiliar to the Western World. Louis XI. of France was supposed to drink the blood of babes,��pour rajeunir sa veine epuisee.� The reasons in favour of such unnatural diet have been fully explained by the infamous M. de Sade. [FN#8] This is, to the present day, a food confined to the Badawin. [FN#9] This alludes to the gardens of Kuba. The number of date-trees is now greatly increased. (See chap. xix.) [FN#10] The Ayn al-Zarka, flowing from the direction of Kuba. (Chap. xviii). [FN#11] Masjid, a Mosque. [FN#12] Nothing can to more correct than this part of Bartema�s description. [FN#13] Nabi (the Prophet), Abu Bakr, Osman, Omar, and Fatimah. It was never believed that Osman was buried in the Prophet�s Mosque. This part of the description is utterly incorrect. The tombs are within the �tower� above-mentioned; and Bartema, in his 13th chapter, quoted below, seems to be aware of the fact. [FN#14] The request was an unconscionable one; and the �chief priest� knew that the body, being enclosed within four walls, could not be seen. [FN#15] This is incorrect. �Hazrat Isa,� after his second coming, will be buried in the Prophet�s �Hujrah.� But no Moslem ever believed that the founder of Christianity left his corpse in this world. (See chap. xvi.) [FN#16] Most probably, in the Barr al-Manakhah, where the Damascus caravan still pitches tents. [FN#17] This passage shows the antiquity of the still popular superstition which makes a light to proceed from the Prophet�s tomb. [FN#18] It is unnecessary to suppose any deception of the kind. If only the �illuminati� could see this light, the sight would necessarily be confined to a very small number. [FN#19] This account is correct. Kusayr (Cosseir), Suez, and Jeddah still supply Al-Madinah. [FN#20] It is impossible to distinguish from this description the route taken by the Damascus Caravan in A.D. 1503. Of one thing only we may be certain, namely, that between Al-Madinah and Meccah there are no �Seas of Sand.� [FN#21] The name of St. Mark is utterly unknown in Al-Hijaz. Probably the origin of the fountain described in the text was a theory that sprang from the brains of the Christian Mamluks. [FN#22] A fair description of the still favourite vehicles, the Shugduf, Takht-rawan, and the Shibriyah. It is almost needless to say that the use of the mariner�s compass is unknown to the guides in Al-Hijaz. [FN#23] Wonderful tales are still told about this same Momiya (mummy). I was assured by an Arab physician, that he had broken a fowl�s leg, and bound it tightly with a cloth containing man�s dried flesh, which caused the bird to walk about, with a sound shank, on the second day. [FN#24] This is probably Jabal Warkan, on the Darb al-Sultani, or Sea road to Meccah. For the Moslem tradition about its Sinaitic origin, see Chapter xx. [FN#25] The Saniyah Kuda, a pass opening upon the Meccah plain. Here two towers are now erected. [FN#26] This is the open ground leading to the Muna Pass. [FN#27] An error. The sacrifice is performed at Muna, not on Arafat, the mountain here alluded to. [FN#28] The material is a close grey granite. [FN#29] The form of the building has now been changed. [FN#30] The Meccans have a tradition concerning it, that it is derived from Baghdad. [FN#31] Moslems who are disposed to be facetious on serious subjects, often remark that it is a mystery why Allah should have built his house in a spot so barren and desolate. [FN#32] This is still correct. Suez supplies Jeddah with corn and other provisions. [FN#33] A prodigious exaggeration. Burckhardt enumerates twenty. The principal gates are seventeen in number. In the old building they were more numerous. Jos. Pitt says, �it hath about forty-two doors to enter into it;�not so much, I think, for necessity, as figure; for in some places they are close by one another.� [FN#34] Bartema alludes, probably, to the Bab al-Ziyadah, in the northern enceinte. [FN#35] I saw nothing of the kind, though constantly in the Harim at Meccah. [FN#36] �The Ka�abah is an oblong massive structure, 18 paces in length, 14 in breadth, and from 35 to 40 feet in height.� (Burckhardt, vol. i. p. 248.) My measurements, concerning which more hereafter, gave 18 paces in breadth, and 22 in length. [FN#37] In ancient times possibly it was silk: now, it is of silk and cotton mixed. [FN#38] These are the brazen rings which serve to fasten the lower edge of the Kiswah, or covering. [FN#39] A true description of the water of the well Zemzem. [FN#40] There is great confusion in this part of Bartema�s narrative. On the 9th of Zu�l Hijjah, the pilgrims leave Mount Arafat. On the 10th, many hasten into Meccah, and enter the Ka�abah. They then return to the valley of Muna, where their tents are pitched and they sacrifice the victims. On the 12th, the tents are struck, and the pilgrims re-enter Meccah. [FN#41] This well describes the wretched state of the poor �Takruri,� and other Africans, but it attributes to them an unworthy motive. I once asked a learned Arab what induced the wretches to rush upon destruction, as they do, when the Faith renders pilgrimage obligatory only upon those who can afford necessaries for the way. �By Allah,� he replied, �there is fire within their hearts, which can be quenched only at God�s House, and at His Prophet�s Tomb.� [FN#42] Bartema alludes to the �Day of Arafat,� 9th of Zu�l Hijjah, which precedes, not follows, the �Day of Sacrifice.� [FN#43] Bartema alludes to the �Shaytan al-Kabir,� the �great devil,� as the buttress at Al-Muna is called. His account of Satan�s appearance is not strictly correct. Most Moslems believe that Abraham threw the stone at the �Rajim,��the lapidated one; but there are various traditions upon the subject. [FN#44] A Christian version of an obscure Moslem legend about a white dove alighting on the Prophet�s shoulder, and appearing to whisper in his ear whilst he was addressing a congregation. Butler alludes to it :� �Th� apostles of this fierce religion, Like Mahomet�s, were ass and widgeon;� the latter word being probably a clerical error for pigeon. When describing the Ka�abah, I shall have occasion to allude to the �blue-rocks� of Meccah. [FN#45] No one would eat the pigeons of the Ka�abah; but in other places, Al-Madinah, for instance, they are sometimes used as articles of food. [FN#46] In the vulgar dialect, �Ant min ayn?� [FN#47] I confess inability to explain these words: the printer has probably done more than the author to make them unintelligible. �Atamannik minalnabi,� in vulgar and rather corrupt Arabic, would mean �I beg you (to aid me) for the sake of the Prophet.� [FN#48] Ashrafi, ducats. [FN#49] The Deccan. [FN#50] Jeddah [FN#51] A foist, foyst or buss, was a kind of felucca, partially decked. [p.358]APPENDIX V. THE PILGRIMAGE OF JOSEPH PITTS TO MECCAH AND AL-MADINAH.�A.D. 1680 OUR second pilgrim was Jos. Pitts, of Exon,[FN#1] a youth fifteen or sixteen years old, when in A.D. 1678, his genius �leading him to be a sailor and to see foreign countries,� caused him to be captured by an Algerine pirate. After living in slavery for some years, he was taken by his �patroon� to Meccah and Al-Madinah via Alexandria, Rosetta, Cairo, and Suez. His description of these places is accurate in the main points, and though tainted with prejudice and bigotry, he is free from superstition and credulity. Conversant with Turkish and Arabic, he has acquired more knowledge of the tenets and practice of Al-Islam than his predecessor, and the term of his residence at Algier, fifteen years, sufficed, despite the defects of his education, to give fulness and finish to his observations. His chief patroon, captain of a troop of [p.359] horse, was a profligate and debauched man in his time, and a murderer, �who determined to proselyte a Christian slave as an atonement for past impieties.� He began by large offers and failed; he succeeded by dint of a great cudgel repeatedly applied to Joseph Pitts� bare feet. �I roared out,� says the relator, �to feel the pain of his cruel strokes, but the more I cried, the more furiously he laid on, and to stop the noise of my crying, would stamp with his feet on my mouth.� �At last,� through terror, he �turned and spake the words (la ilaha, &c.), as usual holding up the forefinger of the right hand�; he was then circumcised in due form. Of course, such conversion was not a sincere one��there was yet swines-flesh in his teeth.� He boasts of saying his prayers in a state of impurity, hates his fellow religionists, was truly pleased to hear Mahomet called sabbatero, i.e., shoemaker, reads his bible, talks of the horrid evil of apostacy, calls the Prophet a �bloody imposter,� eats heartily in private of hog, and is very much concerned for one of his countrymen who went home to his own country, but came again to Algier, and voluntarily, without the least force used towards him, became a Mahometan. His first letter from his father reached him some days after he had been compelled by his patroon�s barbarity to abjure his faith. One sentence appears particularly to have afflicted him: it was this, �to have a care and keep close to God, and to be sure never, by any methods of cruelty that could be used towards me, be prevailed to deny my blessed Saviour, and that he (the father) would rather hear of my death than of my being a Mahometan.� Indeed, throughout the work, it appears that his repentance was sincere. �God be merciful to me a Sinner!� is the deprecation that precedes the account of his �turning Turk,� and the book concludes with, �To him, therefore, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Three [p.360] Persons and one God, be all Honour, Glory, and Praise, world without end. Amen.� Having received from his patroon, whom he acknowledges to have been a second parent to him, a letter of freedom at Meccah and having entered into pay, still living with his master, Pitts began to think of escape. The Grand Turk had sent to Algier for ships, and the renegade was allowed to embark on board one of them provided with a diplomatic letter[FN#2] from Mr. Baker, Consul of Algier, to Mr. Raye, Consul at Smyrna. The devil, we are told, was very busy with him in the Levant, tempting him to lay aside all thoughts of escaping, to return to Algier, and to continue a Mussulman, and the loss of eight months� pay and certain other monies seems to have weighed heavily upon his soul. Still he prepared for the desperate enterprise, in which failure would have exposed him to be dragged about the streets on the stones till half dead, and then be burned to ashes in the Jews� burial-place. A generous friend, Mr. Eliot, a Cornish merchant who had served some part of his apprenticeship in Exon and had settled at Smyrna, paid £4 for his passage in a French ship to Leghorn. Therefrom, in the evening before sailing, he went on board �apparel�d as an Englishman with his beard shaven, a campaign periwig, and a cane in his hand, accompanied with three or four of his friends. At Leghorn he prostrated himself, and kissed the earth, blessing Almighty God, for his mercy and goodness to him, that he once more set footing on the [p.361] European Christian[FN#3] part of the world.� He travelled through Italy, Germany, and Holland, where he received many and great kindnesses. But his patriotism was damped as he entered �England, his own native country, and the civilised land must have made him for a time regret having left Algier. The very first night he lay ashore, he was �imprest into the kings service� (we having at that time war with France); despite arguments and tears he spent some days in Colchester jail, and finally he was put on board a smack to be carried to the Dreadnought man-of-war. But happily for himself he had written to Sir William Falkener, one of the Smyrna or Turkey company in London; that gentleman used his interest to procure a protection from the Admiralty office, upon the receipt of which good news, Joseph Pitts did �rejoice exceedingly and could not forbear leaping upon the deck.� He went to London, thanked Sir William, and hurried down to Exeter, where he ends his fifteen years� tale with a homely, heartful and affecting description of his first meeting with his father. His mother died about a year before his return. The following passages are parts of the 7th and 8th chapters of Pitts� little-known work. �Next we came to Gidda, the nearest sea-port town to Mecca, not quite one day�s journey from it,[FN#4] where the ships are unloaded. Here we are met by Dilleels,[FN#5] i.e. certain persons who came from Mecca on purpose to instruct the Hagges, or pilgrims, in the ceremonies (most [p.362] of them being ignorant of them) which are to be used in their worship at the temple there; in the middle of which is a place which they call Beat Allah, i.e. the House of God. They say that Abraham built it; to which I give no credit. �As soon as we come to the town of Mecca, the Dilleel, or guide, carries us into the great street, which is in the midst of the town, and to which the temple joins.[FN#6] After the camels are laid down, he first directs us to the Fountains, there to take Abdes[FN#7]; which being done, he brings us to the temple, into which (having left our shoes with one who constantly attends to receive them) we enter at the door called Bab-al-salem, i.e. the Welcome Gate, or Gate of Peace. After a few paces entrance, the Dilleel makes a stand, and holds up his hands towards the Beat-Allah (it being in the middle of the Mosque), the Hagges imitating him, and saying after him the same words which he speaks. At the very first sight of the Beat-Allah, the Hagges melt into tears, then we are led up to it, still speaking after the Dilleel; then we are led round it seven times, and then make two Erkaets.[FN#8] This being done, we are led into the street again, where we are sometimes to run and sometimes to walk very quick with the Dilleel from one place of the street to the other, about a bowshot.[FN#9] And I profess I could not chuse but admire to see those poor creatures so extraordinary devout, and affectionate, when they were about these superstitions, and with what awe and trembling they [p.363] were possessed; in so much that I could scarce forbear shedding of tears, to see their zeal, though blind and idolatrous. After all this is done, we returned to the place in the street where we left our camels, with our provisions, and necessaries, and then look out for lodgings; where when we come, we disrobe and take of our Hirrawems,[FN#10] and put on our ordinary clothes again. �All the pilgrims hold it to be their great duty well to improve their time whilst they are at Mecca, not to do their accustomed duty and devotion in the temple, but to spend all their leisure time there, and as far as strength will permit to continue at Towoaf, i.e. to walk round the Beat-Allah, which is about four and twenty paces square. At one corner of the Beat, there is a black stone fastened and framed in with silver plate,[FN#11] and every time they come to that corner, they kiss the stone; and having gone round seven times they perform two Erkaets-nomas, or prayers. This stone, they say, was formerly white, and then it was called Haggar Essaed, i.e. the White Stone.[FN#12] But by reason of the sins of the multitudes of people who kiss it, it is become black, and is now called Haggar Esswaed, or the Black Stone. �This place is so much frequented by people going round it, that the place of the Towoaf, i.e. the circuit which they take in going round it, is seldom void of people at any time of the day or night.[FN#13] Many have waited several weeks, nay months, for the opportunity of finding it so. For they say, that if any person is blessed with such an opportunity, that for his or her zeal in keeping up the honour of Towoaf, let they petition what they will at the Beat-Allah, they shall be answered. Many will walk round [p.364] till they are quite weary, then rest, and at it again; carefully remembering at the end of every seventh time to perform two Erkaets. This Beat is in effect the object of their devotion, the idol which they adore: for, let them be never so far distant from it, East, West, North, or South of it, they will be sure to bow down towards it; but when they are at the Beat, they may go on which side they please and pay their Sallah towards it.[FN#14] Sometimes there are several hundreds at Towoaf at once, especially after Acshamnomas, or fourth time of service, which is after candle-lighting (as you heard before), and these both men and women, but the women walk on the outside the men, and the men nearest to the Beat. In so great a resort as this, it is not to be supposed that every individual person can come to kiss the stone afore-mentioned; therefore, in such a case, the lifting up the hands towards it, smoothing down their faces, and using a short expression of devotion, as Allah-waick barick, i.e. Blessed God, or Allah cabor, i.e. Great God, some such like; and so passing by it till opportunity of kissing it offers, is thought sufficient.[FN#15] But when there are but few men at Towoaf, then the women get opportunity to kiss the said stone, and when they have gotten it, they close in with it as they come round, and walk round as quick as they can to come to it again, and keep possession of it for a considerable time. The men, when they see that the women have got the place, will be so civil as to pass by and give them leave to take their fill, as I may say in their Towoaf or walking round, during which they are using some formal expressions. When the women are at the stone, then it is esteemed a very rude and abominable thing to go near them, respecting the time and place. [p.365]�I shall now give you a more particular description of Mecca and the temple there. �First, as to Mecca. It is a town situated in a barren place (about one day�s journey from the Red Sea) in a valley, or rather in the midst of many little hills. It is a place of no force, wanting both walls and gates. Its buildings are (as I said before) very ordinary, insomuch that it would be a place of no tolerable entertainment, were it not for the anniversary resort of so many thousand Hagges, or pilgrims, on whose coming the whole dependance of the town (in a manner) is; for many shops are scarcely open all the year besides. The people here, I observed, are a poor sort of people, very thin, lean, and swarthy. The town is surrounded for several miles with many thousands of little hills, which are very near one to the other. I have been on the top of some of them near Mecca, where I could see some miles about, yet was not able to see the farthest of the hills. They are all stony-rock and blackish, and pretty near of a bigness, appearing at a distance like cocks of hay, but all pointing towards Mecca. Some of them are half a mile in circumference, but all near of one height. The people here have an odd and foolish sort of tradition concerning them, viz.: That when Abraham went about building the Beat-Allah, God by his wonderful providence did so order it, that every mountain in the world should contribute something to the building thereof; and accordingly every one did send its proportion; though there is a mountain near Algier, which is called Corradog, i.e. Black Mountain; and the reason of its blackness, they say, is because it did not send any part of itself towards building the temple at Mecca.[FN#16] Between [p.366] these hills is good and plain travelling, though they stand one to another. �There is upon the top of one of them a cave, which they term Hira,[FN#17] i.e. Blessing; into which (they say) Mahomet did usually retire for his solitary devotions, meditations, and fastings; and here they believe he had a great part of the Alcoran brought him by the Angel Gabriel. I have been in this cave, and observed that it is not at all beautified; at which I admired. �About half a mile out of Mecca is a very steep hill, and there are stairs made to go to the top of it, where is a cupola, under which is a cloven rock; into this, they say, Mahomet, when very young, viz. about four years of age, was carried by the Angel Gabriel, who opened his breast, and took out his heart, from which he picked some black blood-specks, which was his original corruption; then put it into its place again, and afterwards closed up the part; and that during this operation Mahomet felt no pain. �Into this very place I myself went, because the rest of my company did so, and performed some Erkaets, as they did. �The town hath plenty of water, and yet but few herbs, unless in some particular places. Here are several sorts of good fruits to be had, viz. grapes, melons, watermelons, cucumbers, pumkins, and the like; but these are brought two or three days� journey off, where there is a place of very great plenty, called, if I mistake not, Habbash.[FN#18] [p.367] Likewise sheep are brought hither and sold. So that as to Mecca itself, it affords little or nothing of comfortable provisions. It lieth in a very hot country, insomuch that people run from one side of the streets to the other to get into the shadow, as the motion of the sun causes it. The inhabitants, especially men, do usually sleep on the tops of the houses for the air, or in the streets before their doors. Some lay the small bedding they have on a thin mat on the ground; others have a slight frame, made much like drink-stalls on which we place barrels, standing on four legs, corded with palm cordage, on which they put their bedding. Before they bring out their bedding, they sweep the streets and water them. As for my own part, I usually lay open, without any bed-covering, on the top of the house: only I took a linen cloth, dipt in water, and after I had wrung it, covered myself with it in the night; and when I awoke I should find it dry; then I would wet it again: and thus I did two or three times in a night. �Secondly, I shall next give you some account of the temple of Mecca. �It hath about forty-two doors to enter into it, not so much, I think, for necessity, as figure; for in some places they are close by one another. The form of it is much resembling that of the Royal Exchange in London, but I believe it is near ten times bigger. It is all open and gravelled in the midst, except some paths that come from certain doors which lead to the Beat-Allah, and are paved with broad stones. The walks, or cloisters, all round are arched over-head, and paved beneath with fine broad stone; and all round are little rooms or cells, where such dwell and give themselves up to reading, studying, and a devout life, who are much akin to their dervises, or hermits. �The Beat-Allah, which stands in the middle of the temple, is four-square, about twenty-four paces each [p.368] square, and near twenty-four foot[FN#19] in height. It is built with great stone, all smooth, and plain, without the least bit of carved work on it. It is covered all over from top to bottom with a thick sort of silk. Above the middle part of the covering are embroidered all round letters of gold, the meaning of which I cannot well call to mind, but I think they were some devout expressions. Each letter is near two foot in length and two inches broad. Near the lower end of this Beat are large brass rings fastened into it, through which passeth a great cotton rope; and to this the lower end of the covering is tacked. The threshold of the door that belongs to the Beat is as high as a man can reach; and therefore when any person enter into it, a sort of ladder-stairs are brought for that purpose. The door is plated all over with silver[FN#20] and there is a covering hangs over it and reaches to the ground, which is kept turned up all the week, except Thursday night, and Friday, which is their Sabbath. The said covering of the door is very thick imbroidered with gold, insomuch that it weighs several score pounds. The top of the Beat is flat, beaten with lime and sand; and there is a long gutter, or spout, to carry off the water when it rains; at which time the people will run, throng, and struggle, to get under the said gutter, that so the water that comes off the Beat may fall upon them, accounting it as the dew of Heaven, and looking on it as a great happiness to have it drop upon them. But if they can recover some of this water to drink, they esteem it to be yet a much greater happiness. [p.369] Many poor people make it their endeavour to get some of it; and present it to the Hagges, for which they are well rewarded. My Patroon had a present made him of this water, with which he was not a little pleased, and gave him that brought it a good reward. �This Beat-Allah is opened but two days in the space of six weeks, viz. one day for the men, and the next day for the women.[FN#21] As I was at Mecca about four months, I had the opportunity of entering into it twice; a reputed advantage, which many thousands of the Hagges have not met with, for those that come by land make no longer stay at Mecca than sixteen or seventeen days. �When any enter into the Beat, all that they have to do is to perform two Erkaets on each side,[FN#22] with the holding up their two hands, and petitioning at the conclusion of each two Erkaets. And they are so very reverent and devout in doing this, that they will not suffer their eyes to wander and gaze about; for they account it very sinful so to do. Nay, they say that one was smitten blind for gazing about when in the Beat, as the reward of his vain and unlawful curiosity.[FN#23] I could not, for my part, give any credit to this story, but looked on it as a legendary relation, and, therefore, was resolved, if I could, to take my view of it; I mean not to continue gazing about it, but now and then to cast an observing eye. And I profess I found nothing worth seeing in it, only two wooden pillars in the midst, to keep up the roof,[FN#24] and a bar of iron fastened to them, on which hanged three or four silver lamps, which are, I suppose, but seldom, [p.370] if ever, lighted. In one corner of the Beat is an iron or brass chain, I cannot tell which (for I made no use of it): the pilgrims just clap it about their necks in token of repentance. The floor of the Beat is marble, and so is the inside of the walls, on which there is written something in Arabick, which I had no time to read. The walls, though of marble on the inside, are hung over with silk, which is pulled off[FN#25] before the Hagges enter. Those that go into the Beat tarry there but a very little while, viz. scarce so much as half a quarter of an hour, because others wait for the same privilege; and while some go in, others are going out. After all is over, and all that will have done this, the Sultan of Mecca, who is Shirreef, i.e. one of the race of Mahomet, accounts himself not too good to cleanse the Beat; and, therefore, with some of his favourites, doth wash and cleanse it. And first of all, they wash it with the holy water, Zem Zem, and after that with sweet water. The stairs which were brought to enter in at the door of the Beat being removed, the people crowd under the door to receive on them the sweepings of the said water. And the besoms wherewith the Beat is cleansed are broken in pieces, and thrown out amongst the mob; and he that gets a small stick or twig of it, keeps it as a sacred relique. �But to speak something further of the temple of Mecca (for I am willing to be very particular in matters about it, though in so being, I should, it may be, speak of things which by some people may be thought trivial). The compass of ground round the Beat (where the people exercise themselves in the duty of Towoaf) is paved with marble[FN#26] about 50 foot in breadth, and round this marble pavement stand pillars of brass about 15 foot high[FN#27] and [p.371] 20 foot distant from each other; above the middle part of which iron bars are fastened, reaching from one to the other, and several lamps made of glass are hanged to each of the said bars, with brasswires in the form of a triangle, to give light in the night season, for they pay their devotions at the Beat-Allah as much by night as by day, during the Hagges� stay at Mecca. These glasses are half-filled with water, and a third part with oil, on which a round wire of brass buoyed up with three little corks; in the midst of this wire is made a place to put in the wick or cotton, which burns till the oil is spent. Every day they are washed clean, and replenished with fresh water, oil, and cotton. �On each of the four squares of the Beat is a little room built, and over every one of them is a little chamber with windows all round it, in which chambers the Emaums (together with the Mezzins) perform Sallah, in the audience of all the people which are below. These four chambers are built one at each square of the Beat, by reason that there are four sorts of Mahometans. The first are called Hanifee; most of them are Turks. The second Schafee[FN#28]; whose manners and ways the Arabians follow. The third Hanbelee; of which there are but few. The fourth Malakee; of which there are those that live westward of Egypt, even to the Emperor of Morocco�s country. These all agree in fundamentals, only there is some small difference between them in the ceremonial part. �About twelve paces from the Beat is (as they say) the sepulchre of Abraham,[FN#29] who by God�s immediate command, they tell you, built this Beat-Allah; which [p.372] sepulchre is enclosed within iron gates. It is made somewhat like the tombstones which people of fashion have among us, but with a very handsome imbroidered covering. Into this persons are apt to gaze. A small distance from it, on the left-hand, is a well, which they call Beer el Zem Zem, the water whereof they call holy water ; and as superstitiously esteem it as the Papists do theirs. In the month of Ramadan they will be sure to break their fast with it. They report that it is as sweet as milk; but for my part I could perceive no other taste in it than in common water, except that it was somewhat brackish. The Hagges, when they come first to Mecca, drink of it unreasonably; by which means they are not only much purged, but their flesh breaks out all in pimples; and this they call the purging of their spiritual corruptions. There are hundreds of pitchers belonging to the temple, which in the month of Ramadan are filled with the said water and placed all along before the people (with cups to drink) as they are kneeling and waiting for Acsham-nomas, or evening service; and as soon as the Mezzins or clerks on the tops of the minarets began their bawling to call them to nomas, they fall a drinking thereof before they begin their devotions. This Beer or well of Zem Zem is in the midst of one of the little rooms before mentioned, at each square of the Beat, distant about twelve or fourteen paces from it, out of which four men are employed to draw water, without any pay or reward, for any that shall desire it. Each of these men have two leather buckets tied to a rope on a small wheel, one of which comes up full, while the other goes down empty. They do not only drink this water, but oftentimes bathe themselves with it, at which time they take off their clothes, only covering their lower parts with thin wrapper, and one of the drawers pours on each person�s head five or six buckets of water.[FN#30] The [p.373] person bathing may lawfully wash himself therewith above the middle, but not his lower parts, because they account they are not worthy, only letting the water take its way downwards. In short, they make use of this water only to drink, take Abdes, and for bathing: neither may they take Abdes with it, unless they first cleanse their secret parts with other common water. Yea, such an high esteem they have for it, that many Hagges carry it home to their respective countries in little latten or tin pots; and present it to their friends, half a spoonful, may be, to each, who receive it in the hollow of their hand with great care and abundance of thanks, sipping a little of it, and bestowing the rest on their faces and naked heads; at the same time holding up their hands, and desiring of God that they also may be so happy and prosperous as to go on pilgrimage to Mecca. The reason of their putting such an high value upon the water of this well, is because (as they say) it is the place where Ishmael was laid by his mother Hagar. I have heard them tell the story exactly as it is recorded in the 21st chapter of Genesis; and they say, that in the very place where the child paddled with his feet, the water flowed out. �I shall now inform you how, when, and where, they receive the honourable title of Hagges, for which they are at all this pains and expence. �The Curbaen Byram, or the Feast of Sacrifice, follows two months and ten days after the Ramadan fast. The eighth day after the said two months they all enter into Hirrawem, i.e.} put on their mortifying habit again, and in that manner go to a certain hill called Gibbel el Orphat (El Arafat), i.e. the Mountain of Knowledge; for [p.374] there, they say, Adam first found and knew his wife Eve. And they likewise say, that she was buried at Gidda near the Red Sea; at whose sepulchre all the Hagges who come to Mecca by way of the Red Sea, perform two Erkaets-nomas, and, I think, no more. I could not but smile to hear this their ridiculous tradition (for so I must pronounce it), when observing the marks which were set, the one at the head, and the other at the foot of the grave: I guessed them to be a bow-shot distant from each other. On the middle of her supposed grave is a little Mosque built, where the Hagges pay their religious respect. �This Gibbel or hill is not so big as to contain the vast multitudes which resort thither; for it is said by them, that there meet no less than 70,000 souls every year, in the ninth day after the two months after Ramadan; and if it happen that in any year there be wanting some of that number, God, they say, will supply the deficiency by so many angels.[FN#31] �I do confess the number of Hagges I saw at this mountain was very great; nevertheless, I cannot think they could amount to so many as 70,000. There are certain bound-stones placed round the Gibbel, in the plain, to shew how far the sacred ground (as they esteem it) extends; and many are so zealous as to come and pitch their tents within these bounds, some time before the hour of paying their devotion here comes, waiting for it. But why they so solemnly approach this mountain beyond any other place, and receive from hence the title of Hagges, I confess I do not more fully understand than what I have already said, giving but little heed to these delusions. I observed nothing worth seeing on this hill, for there was only a small cupola on the top of it[FN#32]; [p.375] neither are there any inhabitants nearer to it than Mecca. About one or two of the clock, which is the time of Eulea-nomas, having washed and made themselves ready for it, they perform that, and at the same time perform Ekinde-nomas, which they never do at one time, but upon this occasion; because at the time when Ekinde-nomas should be performed in the accustomed order, viz. about four of the clock in the afternoon, they are imploring pardon for their sins, and receiving the Emaum�s benediction.[FN#33] �It was a sight indeed, able to pierce one�s heart, to behold so many thousands in their garments of humility and mortification, with their naked heads, and cheeks watered with tears; and to hear their grievous sighs and sobs, begging earnestly for the remission of their sins, promising newness of life, using a form of penitential expressions, and thus continuing for the space of four or five hours, viz. until the time of Acsham-nomas, which is to be performed about half an hour after sunset. (It is matter of sorrowful reflection, to compare the indifference of many Christians with this zeal of these poor blind Mahometans, who will, it is to be feared, rise up in judgment against them and condemn them.) After their solemn performance of their devotions thus at the Gibbel, they all at once receive that honourable title of Hagge from the Emaum, and are so stiled to their dying day. Immediately upon their receiving this name, the trumpet is sounded, and they all leave the hill and return for Mecca, and being gone two or three miles on their way[,] they then rest for that night[FN#34]; but after nomas, before [p.376] they go to rest, each person gathers nine-and-forty small stones about the bigness of an hazle nut; the meaning of which I shall acquaint you with presently. �The next morning they move to a place called Mina, or Muna; the place, as they say, where Abraham went to offer up his son Isaac,[FN#35] and therefore in this place they sacrifice their sheep. It is about two or three miles from Mecca. I was here shown a stone, or little rock, which was parted in the middle. They told me, that when Abraham was going to sacrifice his son, instead of striking him, Providence directed his hand to this stone, which he clave in two. It must be a good stroke indeed! �Here they all pitch their tents (it being in a spacious plain), and spend the time of Curbaen Byram, viz. three days. As soon as their tents are pitched, and all things orderly disposed, every individual Hagge, the first day, goes and throws seven of the small stones, which they had gathered, against a small pillar, or little square stone building.[FN#36] Which action of theirs is intended to testify their defiance of the devil and his deeds; for they at the same time pronounce the following words, viz. Erzum le Shetane wazbehe[FN#37]; i.e. stone the devil, and them that please him.[FN#38] And there are two other of the like pillars, which are situated near one another; at each of which [p.377] (I mean all three), the second day, they throw seven stones; and the same they do the third day. As I was going to perform this ceremony of throwing the stones, a facetious Hagge met me; saith he, �You may save your labour at present, if you please, for I have hit out the devil�s eyes already.� You must observe, that after they have thrown the seven stones on the first day (the country people having brought great flocks of sheep to be sold), every one buys a sheep and sacrifices it; some of which they give to their friends, some to the poor which come out of Mecca and the country adjacent, very ragged poor, and the rest they eat themselves; after which they shave their heads, throw off Hirrawem, and put on other clothes, and then salute one another with a kiss, saying, �Byram Mabarick Ela,� i.e. the feast be a blessing to you. �These three days of Byram they spend festivally, rejoicing with abundance of illuminations all night, shooting of guns, and fireworks flying in the air; for they reckon that all their sins are now done away, and they shall, when they die, go directly to heaven, if they don�t apostatize; and that for the future, if they keep their vow and do well, God will set down for every good action ten; but if they do ill, God will likewise reckon every evil action ten: and any person, who, after having received the title of Hagge, shall fall back to a vicious course of life, is esteemed to be very vile and infamous by them.[FN#39] �Some have written, that many of the Hagges, after they have returned home, have been so austere to themselves as to pore a long time over red-hot bricks, or ingots of iron, and by that means willingly lose their sight, desiring to see nothing evil or profane, after so sacred a sight as the temple at Mecca; but I never knew any such thing done. [p.378] �During their three days� stay at Mina, scarce any Hagge (unless impotent) but thinks it his duty to pay his visit, once at least, to the temple at Mecca. They scarce cease running all the way thitherward, shewing their vehement desire to have a fresh sight of the Beat-Allah; which as soon as ever they come in sight of, they burst into tears for joy; and after having performed Towoaf for a while, and a few Erkaets, they return again to Mina. And when the three days of Byram are expired, they all, with their tents, &c., come back again to Mecca. �They say, that after the Hagges are gone from Mina to Mecca, God doth usually send a good shower of rain to wash away the filth and dung of the sacrifices there slain; and also that those vast numbers of little stones, which I told you the Hagges throw in defiance of the devil, are all carried away by the angels before the year comes about again. But I am sure I saw vast numbers of them that were thrown the year before, lie upon the ground. After they are returned to Mecca, they can tarry there no longer than the stated time, which is about ten or twelve days; during which time there is a great fair held, where are sold all manner of East India goods, and abundance of fine stones for rings and bracelets, &c., brought from Yeamane[FN#40]; also of China-ware and musk, and variety of other curiosities. Now is the time in which the Hagges are busily employed in buying, for they do not think it lawful to buy any thing till they have received the title of Hagge. Every one almost now buys a caffin, or shroud of fine linen, to be buried in (for they never use coffins for that purpose), which might have been procured at Algier, or their other respective homes, at a much cheaper rate; but they choose to buy it here, because they have the advantage of dipping it in the holy water, Zem Zem. They are very careful to carry the said [p.379] caffin with them wherever they travel, whether by sea or land, that they may be sure to be buried therein. �The evening before they leave Mecca, every one must go to take their solemn leave of the Beat, entering at the gate called Babe el Salem, i.e. Welcome Gate, and having continued at Towoaf as long as they please, which many do till they are quite tired, and it being the last time of their paying their devotions to it, they do it with floods of tears, as being extremely unwilling to part and bid farewell; and having drank their fill of the water Zem Zem, they go to one side of the Beat, their backs being towards the door called by the name of Babe el Weedoh i.e., the Farewell Door, which is opposite to the welcome door; where, having performed two or three Erkaets, they get upon their legs and hold up their hands towards the Beat, making earnest petitions; and then keep going backward till they come to the above said farewell gate, being guided by some other, for they account it a very irreverent thing to turn their backs towards the Beat when they take leave of it. All the way as they retreat they continue petitioning, holding up their hands, with their eyes fixed upon the Beat, till they are out of sight of it; and so go to their lodgings weeping. �Ere I leave Mecca, I shall acquaint you with a passage of a Turk to me in the temple cloyster, in the night time, between Acsham-nomas, and Gega-nomas, i.e., between the evening and the night services. The Hagges do usually spend that time, or good part of it (which is about an hour and half), at Towoaf, and then sit down on the mats and rest themselves. This I did, and after I had sat a while, and for my more ease at last was lying on my back, with my feet towards the Beat, but at a distance as many others did, a Turk which sat by me, asked me what countryman I was; �A Mogrebee� (said I), i.e. one of the West. �Pray,� quoth he, �how far west did you come?� I told him from Gazair, i.e. Algier. �Ah!� replied he, �have you taken so much [p.380] pains, and been at so much cost, and now be guilty of this irreverent posture before the Beat Allah?� �Here are many Moors, who get a beggarly livelihood by selling models of the temple unto strangers, and in being serviceable to the Pilgrims. Here are also several Effendies, or masters of learning, who daily expound out of the Alcoran, sitting in high chairs, and some of the learned Pilgrims, whilst they are here, do undertake the same. �Under the room of the Hanifees (which I mentioned before), people do usually gather together (between the hours of devotion), and sitting round cross-legged, it may be, twenty or thirty of them, they have a very large pair of Tessbeehs, or beads, each bead near as big as a man�s fist, which they keep passing round, bead after bead, one to the other, all the time, using some devout expressions. I myself was once got in amongst them, and methought it was a pretty play enough for children,�however, I was to appearance very devout. �There are likewise some dervises that get money here, as well as at other places, by burning of incense, swinging their censers as they go along before the people that are sitting; as this they do commonly on Friday, their Sabbath. In all other Gamiler or Mosques, when the Hattib is preaching, and the people all sitting still at their devotion, they are all in ranks, so that the dervise, without the least disturbance to any, walks between every rank, with his censer in one hand, and with the other takes his powdered incense out of a little pouch that hangs by his side.[FN#41] �But though this place, Mecca, is esteemed so very holy, yet it comes short of none for lewdness and debauchery. As for uncleanness, it is equal to Grand Cairo; and they will steal even in the temple itself. [p.381] �CHAPTER VIII.� Of the Pilgrims� return from Mecca: their visit made at Medina to Mahomet�s tomb there. �Having thus given you an account of the Turks� pilgrimage to Mecca, and of their worship there (the manner and circumstances of which I have faithfully and punctually related, and may challenge the world to convict me of a known falsehood), I now come to take leave of the temple and town of Mecca. �Having hired camels of the carriers, we set out, but we give as much for the hire of one from Mecca to Egypt, which is about forty days� journey, as the real worth of it is, (viz.) about five or six pounds sterling. If it happen that the camel dies by the way, the carrier is to supply us with another; and therefore, those carriers[FN#42] who come from Egypt to Mecca with the Caravan, bring with them several spare camels; for there is hardly a night passeth but many die upon the road, for if a camel should chance to fall, it is seldom known that it is able to rise again; and if it should, they despair of its being capable of performing the journey, or ever being useful more. It is a common thing, therefore, when a camel once falls, to take off its burden and put it on another, and then kill it; which the poorer sort of the company eat. I myself have eaten of camel�s flesh, and it is very sweet and nourishing. If a camel tires, they even leave him upon the place. �The first day we set out from Mecca, it was without any order at all, all hurly burly; but the next day every one laboured to get forward; and in order to it, there was many time much quarrelling and fighting. But after every one had taken his place in the Caravan, they orderly and peaceably kept the same place till they came to Grand Cairo. They travel four camels in a breast, [p.382] which are all tied one after the other, like as in teams.[FN#43] The whole body is called a Caravan, which is divided into several cottors, or companies, each of which hath its name, and consists, it may be, of several thousand camels; and they move one cottor after another, like distinct troops. In the head of each cottor is some great gentleman or officer, who is carried in a thing like a horse-litter, borne by two camels, one before and the other behind, which is covered all over with sear-cloth, and over that again with green broad cloth, and set forth very handsomely. If the said great person hath a wife with him, she is carried in another of the same.[FN#44] In the head of every cottor there goes, likewise, a sumpter camel which carries his treasures, &c. This camel hath two bells, about the bigness of our market-bells, having one on each side, the sound of which may be heard a great way off. Some other of the camels have round bells about their necks, some about their legs, like those which our carriers put about their fore-horses� necks; which together with the servants (who belong to the camels, and travel on foot) singing all night, make a pleasant noise, and the journey passes away delightfully. They say this musick make the camels brisk and lively. Thus they travel, in good order every day, till they come to Grand Cairo; and were it not for this order, you may guess what confusion would be amongst such a vast multitude. �They have lights by night (which is the chief time of travelling, because of the exceeding heat of the sun by day), which are carried on the tops of high poles, to direct the Hagges on their march.[FN#45] They are somewhat like [p.382] iron stoves, into which they put short dry wood, which some of the camels are loaded with; it is carried in great sacks, which have an hole near the bottom, where the servants take it out, as they see the fires need a recruit. Every cottor hath one of these poles belonging to it, some of which have ten, some twelve, of these lights on their tops, or more or less; and they are likewise of different figures as well as numbers; one, perhaps, oval way, like a gate; another triangular, or like an N or M, &c., so that every one knows by them his respective cottor. They are carried in the front, and set up in the place where the Caravan is to pitch, before that comes up, at some distance from one another. They are also carried by day, not lighted, but yet by the figure and number of them, the Hagges are directed to what cottor they belong, as soldiers are, by their colours, where to rendezvous; and without such directions it would be impossible to avoid confusion in such a vast number of people. �Every day, viz. in the morning, they pitch their tents, and rest several hours. When the camels are unloaded the owners drive them to water, and give them their provender, &c. So that we had nothing to do with them, besides helping to load them. �As soon as our tents were pitched, my business was to make a little fire and get a pot of coffee. When we had ate some small matter and drank the coffee, we lay down to sleep. Between eleven and twelve we boiled something for dinner, and having dined, lay down again, till about four in the afternoon; when the trumpet was sounded which gave notice to every one to take down their tents, pack up their things, and load their camels in order to proceed on their journey. It takes up about two hours time ere they are in all their places again. At the time of Acsham-nomas, and also Gega-nomas, they make a halt, and perform their Sallah (so punctual [p.384] are they in their worship), and then they travel till next morning. If water be scarce, what I call an imaginary Abdes[FN#46] will do. As for ancient men, it being very troublesome for such to alight off the camels, and get up again, it is lawful for them to defer these two times of nomas till the next day; but they will be sure to perform it then. �As for provisions, we bring enough out of Egypt to suffice us till we return thither again. At Mecca we compute how much will serve us for one day, and consequently, for the forty days� journey to Egypt, and if we find we have more than we may well guess will suffice us for a long time, we sell the overplus at Mecca. There is a charity maintained by the Grand Seignior, for water to refresh the poor who travel on foot all the way; for there are many such undertake this journey (or pilgrimage) without any money, relying on the charity of the Hagges for subsistence, knowing that they largely extend it at such a time. �Every Hagge carries his provisions, water, bedding, &c., with him, and usually three or four diet together, and sometimes discharge a poor man�s expenses the whole journey for his attendance on them. There was an Irish renegade, who was taken very young, insomuch that he had not only lost his Christian religion, but his native language also. This man had endured thirty years slavery in Spain, and in the French gallies, but was afterwards redeemed and came home to Algier. He was looked upon as a very pious man, and a great Zealot, by the Turks, for his not turning from the Mahommedan faith, notwithstanding the great temptations he had so to do. Some of my neighbours who intended for Mecca, the same year I went with my patroon thither, offered [p.385] this renegado that if he would serve them on this journey they would defray his charges throughout. He gladly embraced the offer, and I remember when we arrived at Mecca he passionately told me, that God had delivered him out of hell upon earth (meaning his former slavery in France and Spain), and had brought him into a heaven upon earth, viz. Mecca. I admired much his zeal, but pitied his condition. �Their water they carry in goats� skins, which they fasten to one side of their camels. It sometimes happens that no water is to be met with for two, three, or more days; but yet it is well known that a camel is a creature that can live long without drinking (God in his wise providence so ordering it: for otherwise it would be very difficult, if not impossible to travel through the parched deserts of Arabia). �In this journey many times the skulking, thievish, Arabs do much mischief to some of the Hagges; for in the night time they will steal upon them (especially such as are on the outside of the Caravan), and being taken to be some of the servants that belong to the carriers, or owners of the camels, they are not suspected. When they see an Hagge fast asleep (for it is usual for them to sleep on the road), they loose a camel before and behind, and one of the thieves leads it away with the Hagge upon its back asleep. Another of them in the meanwhile, pulls on the next camel to tie it to the camel from whence the halter of the other was cut; for if that camel be not fastened again to the leading camel, it will stop, and all that are behind will then stop of course, which might be the means of discovering the robbers. When they have gotten the stolen camel, with his rider, at a convenient distance from the Caravan, and think themselves out of danger, they awake the Hagge, and sometimes destroy him immediately; but at other times, being a little more [p.386] inclined to mercy, they strip him naked, and let him return to the Caravan.[FN#47] �About the tenth easy day�s journey, after we come out of Mecca, we enter into Medina, the place where Mahomet lies entombed. Although it be (as I take it) two or three days� journey out of the direct way from Mecca to Egypt, yet the Hagges pay their visit there for the space of two days, and come away the third. �Those Mahometans which live to the southward of Mecca, at the East Indies, and thereaway, are not bound to make a visit to Medina, but to Mecca only, because it would be so much out of their way. But such as come from Turkey, Tartary, Egypt, and Africa, think themselves obliged to do so. �Medina is but a little town, and poor, yet it is walled round,[FN#48] and hath in it a great Mosque, but nothing near so big as the temple at Mecca. In one corner of the Mosque is a place, built about fourteen or fifteen paces square. About this place are great windows,[FN#49] fenced with brass grates. In the inside it is decked with some lamps, and ornaments. It is arched all over head. (I find some relate, that there are no less than 3000 lamps about Mahomet�s tomb; but it is a mistake, for there are not, as I verily believe, an hundred; and I speak what I know, and have been an eye-witness of). In the middle of this place is the tomb of Mahomet, where the corpse of that bloody impostor is laid, which hath silk curtains all around it like a bed; which curtains are not costly nor beautiful. There is nothing of his tomb to be seen by any, by reason [p.387] of the curtains round it, nor are any of the Hagges permitted to enter there.[FN#50] None go in but the Eunuchs, who keep watch over it, and they only light the lamps, which burn there by night, and to sweep and cleanse the place. All the privilege the Hagges have, is only to thrust in their hands at the windows,[FN#51] between the brass grates, and to petition the dead juggler, which they do with a wonderful deal of reverence, affection, and zeal. My patroon had his silk handkerchief stole out of his bosom, while he stood at his devotion here. �It is storied by some, that the coffin of Mahomet hangs up by the attractive virtue of a loadstone to the roof of the Mosque; but believe me it is a false story. When I looked through the brass gate, I saw as much as any of the Hagges; and the top of the curtains, which covered the tomb, were not half so high as the roof or arch, so that it is impossible his coffin should be hanging there. I never heard the Mahometans say anything like it. On the outside of this place, where Mahomet�s tomb is, are some sepulchres of their reputed saints; among which is one prepared for Jesus Christ, when he shall come again personally into the world; for they hold that Christ will come again in the flesh, forty years before the end of the world, to confirm the Mahometan faith, and say likewise, that our Saviour was not crucified in person, but in effigy, or one like him. �Medina is much supplied by the opposite Abyssine country, which is on the other side of the Red Sea: from thence they have corn and necessaries brought in ships: an odd sort of vessels as ever I saw, their sails being made of matting, such as they use in the houses and Mosques to tread upon. [p.388] �When we had taken our leave of Medina, the third day, and travelled about ten days more, we were met by a great many Arabians, who brought abundance of fruit to us, particularly raisins; but from whence I cannot tell.[FN#52] When we came within fifteen days� journey of Grand Cairo, we were met by many people who came from thence, with their camels laden with presents for the Hagges, sent from their friends and relations, as sweetmeats, &c. But some of them came rather for profit, to sell fresh provisions to the Hagges, and trade with them. �About ten days before we got to Cairo, we came to a very long steep hill, called Ackaba, which the Hagges are usually much afraid how they shall be able to get up. Those who can will walk it. The poor camels, having no hoofs, find it very hard work, and many drop here. They were all untied, and we dealt gently with them, moving very slowly, and often halting. Before we came to this hill, I observed no descent, and when we were at the top there was none, but all plain as before. �We past by Mount Sinai by night, and, perhaps, when I was asleep; so that I had no prospect of it. �When we came within seven days� journey of Cairo, we were met by abundance of people more, some hundreds, who came to welcome their friends and relations; but it being night, it was difficult to find those they wanted, and, therefore, as the Caravans past along they kept calling them aloud by their names, and by this means found them out. And when we were in three days� journey of it, we had many camel-loads of the water of the Nile brought us to drink. But the day and night before we came to Cairo, thousands came out to meet us with extraordinary rejoicing. It is thirty-seven days� journey from Mecca to Cairo, and three days we tarry by [p.389] the way, which together make us (as I said) forty days� journey; and in all this way there is scarce any green thing to be met with, nor beast nor fowl to be seen or heard; nothing but sand and stones, excepting one place which we passed through by night; I suppose it was a village, where were some trees, and, we thought, gardens.� [FN#1] It is curious, as Crichton (Arabia, vol. ii. p. 208) observes, that Gibbon seems not to have seen or known anything of the little work published by Pitts on his return home. It is entitled �A faithful Account of the Religion and the Manners of the Mahometans, in which is a particular Relation of their Pilgrimage to Mecca, the Place of Mahomet�s Birth, and Description of Medina, and of his Tomb there,� &c., &c. My copy is the 4th edition, printed for T. Longman and R. Hett, London, A.D. 1708. The only remarkable feature in the �getting up� of the little octavo is, that the engraving headed �the most sacred and antient Temple of the Mahometans at Mecca,� is the reverse of the impression[.] [FN#2] Some years afterwards, Mr. Consul Baker, when waited upon by Pitts, in London, gave him a copy of the letter, with the following memorandum upon the back of it��Copy of my letter to Consul Raye at Smyrna, to favour the escape of Joseph Pitts, an English renegade, from a squadron of Algier men-of-war. Had my kindness to him been discovered by the government of Algiers, my legs and arms had first been broken, and my carcass burnt�a danger hitherto not courted by any.� [FN#3] The italics in the text are the author�s. This is admirably characteristic of the man. Asiatic Christendom would not satisfy him. He seems to hate the �damnable doctrines� of the �Papists,� almost as much as those of the Moslems. [FN#4] He must have been accustomed to long days� journeys. Al-Idrisi makes Jeddah forty miles from Meccah; I calculated about forty-four. [FN#5] Dalil, a guide, generally called at Meccah �Muttawwif.� [FN#6] Pitts� Note,�that before they�ll provide for themselves, they serve God in their way. [FN#7] Abdast is the Turkish word, borrowed from the Persian, for �Wuzu,� the minor ablution. [FN#8] Ruka�at, a bending. This two-bow prayer is in honour of the Mosque. [FN#9] This is the ceremony technically called Al-Sai, or running between Safa and Marwah. Burckhardt describes it accurately, vol. i. pp. 174, 175. [FN#10] Ihram, the pilgrim-garb. [FN#11] Now gold or gilt. [FN#12] This is an error. The stone is called Hajar Aswad, the Black Stone, or Hajar As�ad, the Blessed Stone. Moreover, it did not change its colour on account of the sins of the people who kissed it. [FN#13] The Meccans, in effect, still make this a boast. [FN#14] Nothing more blindly prejudiced than this statement. Moslems turn towards Meccah, as Christians towards Jerusalem. [FN#15] As will afterwards be explained, all the four orthodox schools do not think it necessary to kiss the stone after each circumambulation. [FN#16] These are mere local traditions. The original Ka�abah was composed of materials gathered from the six mountains of Paradise (chap. xx.) The present building is of grey granite quarried in a hill near Meccah. [FN#17] Now Jabal Nur. [FN#18] They come from the well-known Taif, which the country people call Hijaz, but never Habbash. The word Taif literally means the �circumambulator.� It is said that when Adam settled at Meccah, finding the country barren, he prayed to Allah to supply him with a bit of fertile land. Immediately appeared a mountain, which having performed Tawaf round the Ka�abah, settled itself down eastward of Meccah. Hence, to the present day, Taif is called Kita min al-Sham, a piece of Syria, its fatherland. [FN#19] This is an error of printing for �paces.� [FN#20] (Pitts� Note.) Not of massy gold, as a late French author (who, I am sure, was never there) says. The door is of wood, only plated over with silver; much less is the inside of the Beat ceiled with massy gold, as the same Frenchman asserts. I can assure the world it is no such thing. The door is of wood, thickly plated over with silver, in many parts gilt. And whatever hereabouts is gilt, the Meccans always call gold. (R.F.B.) [FN#21] This is no longer the case. Few women ever enter the Ka�abah, on account of the personal danger they run there. [FN#22] More correctly, at three of the corners, and the fourth opposite the southern third of the western wall. [FN#23] It is deemed disrespectful to look at the ceiling, but pilgrims may turn their eyes in any other direction they please. [FN#24] There are now three. [FN#25] It is tucked up about six feet high. [FN#26] It is a close kind of grey granite, which takes a high polish from the pilgrims� feet. [FN#27] Now iron posts. [FN#28] The Shafe�i school have not, and never had, a peculiar oratory like the other three schools. They pray near the well Zemzem. [FN#29] This place contains the stone which served Abraham for a scaffold when he was erecting the Ka�abah. Some of our popular writers confound this stone with the Hajar al-Aswad. [FN#30] (Pitts� Note.) The worthy Mons. Thevenot saith, that the waters of Meccah are bitter; but I never found them so, but as sweet and as good as any others, for aught as I could perceive. Pitts has just remarked that he found the waters of Zemzem brackish. To my taste it was a salt-bitter, which was exceedingly disagreeable. (R.F.B.) [FN#31] They are not so modest. 600,000 is the mystical number; others declare it to be incalculable. Oftentimes 70,000 have met at Arafat. [FN#32] The cupola has now disappeared; there is a tall pillar of masonry-work, whitewashed, rising from a plastered floor, for praying. [FN#33] On the 9th Zu�l Hijjah, or the Day of Arafat, the pilgrims, having taken their stations within the sacred limits, perform ablution about noon, and pray as directed at that hour. At three P.M., after again performing the usual devotions, or more frequently after neglecting them, they repair to the hill, and hear the sermon. [FN#34] At Muzdalifah. [FN#35] This, I need scarcely say, is speaking as a Christian. All Moslems believe that Ishmael, and not Isaac, was ordered to be sacrificed. The place to which Pitts alludes is still shown to pilgrims. [FN#36] (Pitts� Note.) Monsieur de Thevenot saith, that they throw these stones at the Gibbel or Mount; but, indeed, it is otherwise; though I must needs say, he is very exact in almost every thing of Turkish matters; and I pay much deference to that great author. [FN#37] The Rami or Jaculator now usually says, as he casts each stone, �In the name of Allah, and Allah is omnipotent (Raghman li�sh� Shaytani wa Khizyatih), in token of abhorrence to Satan, and for his ignominy (I do this).� [FN#38] The Arabic would mean stone the devil and slay him, unless �wazbehe� be an error for �wa ashabih,���and his companions.� [FN#39] Even in the present day, men who have led �wild� lives in their youth, often date their reformation from the first pilgrimage. [FN#40] Al-Yaman, Southern Arabia, whose �Akik,� or cornelians were celebrated. [FN#41] This is still practised in Moslem countries, being considered a decent way of begging during public prayers, without interrupting them. [FN#42] These people will contract to board the pilgrim, and to provide him with a tent, as well as to convey his luggage. [FN#43] The usual way now is in �Kitar,� or in Indian file, each camel�s halter being tied to the tail of the beast that precedes him. Pitts� �cottor� must be a kitar, but he uses the word in another of its numerous senses. [FN#44] This vehicle is the �Takht-rawan� of Arabia. [FN#45] He describes the Mashals still in use. Lane has sketched them, Mod. Egypt. chap. vi. [FN#46] Pitts means by �imaginary Abdes,� the sand ablution,�lawful when water is wanted for sustaining life. [FN#47] As I shall explain at a future time, there are still some Hijazi Badawin whose young men, before entering life, risk everything in order to plunder a Haji. They care little for the value of the article stolen, the exploit consists in stealing it. [FN#48] The walls, therefore, were built between A.D. 1503 and A.D. 1680. [FN#49] These are not windows, but simply the inter-columnar spaces filled with grating. [FN#50] This account is perfectly correct. The Eunuchs, however, do not go into the tomb; they only light the lamps in, and sweep the passage round, the Sepulchre. [FN#51] These are the small apertures in the Southern grating. See Chap. xvi. [FN#52] The Caravan must have been near the harbour of Muwaylah, where supplies are abundant. [p.390]APPENDIX VI. GIOVANNI FINATI. THE third pilgrim on our list is Giovanni Finati, who, under the Moslem name of �Haji Mohammed,� made the campaign against the Wahhabis for the recovery of Meccah and Al-Madinah. A native of Ferrara, the eldest of the four scions of a small landed proprietor, �tenderly attached to his mother,� and brought up most unwillingly for a holy vocation,�to use his own words, �instructed in all that course of frivolous and empty ceremonials and mysteries, which form a principal feature in the training of a priest for the Romish Church,� in A.D. 1805, Giovanni Finati�s name appeared in the list of Italian conscripts. After a few vain struggles with fate, he was marched to Milan, drilled and trained; the next year his division was ordered to the Tyrol, where the young man, �brought up for the church,� instantly deserted. Discovered in his native town, he was sent under circumstances of suitable indignity to join his regiment at Venice, where a general act of grace, promulgated on occasion of Napoleon�s short visit, preserved him from a platoon of infantry. His next move was to Spalato, in Dalmatia, where he marched under General Marmont to Cattaro, the last retreat of the hardy and warlike Montenegrins. At Budoa, a sea-port S.E. of Ragusa, having consulted an Albanian �captain-merchant,� Giovanni Finati, and fifteen other Italians� [p.391] �including the sergeant�s wife,� swore fidelity to one another, and deserted with all their arms and accoutrements. They passed into the Albanese territory, and were hospitably treated as �soldiers, who had deserted from the infidel army in Dalmatia,� by the Pasha, posted at Antivari to keep check upon the French operations. At first they were lodged in the Mosque, and the sergeant�s wife had been set apart from the rest; but as they refused to apostatize they were made common slaves, and worked at the quarries till their �backs were sore.� Under these circumstances, the sergeant discovering and promulgating his discovery that �the Mahometans believe as we do in a god; and upon examination that we might find the differences from our mother church to be less than we had imagined,��all at once came the determination of professing to be Mohammedans. Our Italian Candide took the name of Mahomet, and became pipe-bearer to a Turkish general officer in the garrison. This young man trusted the deserter to such an extent that the doors of the Harim were open to him[FN#1], and Giovanni Finati repaid his kindness by seducing Fatimah, a Georgian girl, his master�s favourite wife. The garrison then removed to Scutari. Being of course hated by his fellow servants, the renegade at last fell into disgrace, and exchanging the pipe-stick for the hatchet, he became a hewer of wood. This degradation did not diminish poor Fatimah�s affection: she continued to visit him, and to leave little presents and tokens for him in his room. But presently the girl proved likely to become a mother,�their intercourse was more than suspected,�Giovanni Finati had a dread of circumcision,[FN#2] [p.392] so he came to the felon resolution of flying alone from Scutari. He happened to meet his �original friend the captain-merchant,� and in March, 1809, obtained from him a passage to Egypt, the Al-Dorado to which all poverty-struck Albanian adventurers were then flocking. At Alexandr[i]a the new Mahomet, after twice deserting from a Christian service, at the risk of life and honour, voluntarily enlisted as an Albanian private soldier in a Moslem land; the naïvete with which he admires and comments upon his conduct is a curious moral phenomenon. Thence he proceeded to Cairo, and became a �Balik bash� (corporal), in charge of six Albanian privates, of Mohammed Ali�s body-guard. Ensued a campaign against the Mamluks in Upper Egypt, and his being present at the massacre of those miscreants in the citadel of Cairo,�he confined his part in the affair to plundering from the Beys a �saddle richly mounted in silver gilt,� and a slave girl with trinkets and money. He married the captive, and was stationed for six months at Matariyah (Heliopolis), with the force preparing to march upon Meccah, under Tussun Pasha. Here he suffered from thieves, and shot by mistake his Bim Bashi or sergeant, who was engaged in the unwonted and dangerous exercise of prayer in the dark. The affair was compromised by the amiable young commander-in-chief, who paid the blood money amounting to some thousand piastres. On the 6th October, 1811, the army started for Suez, where eighteen vessels waited to convey them to Yambu�. Mahomet assisted at the capture of that port, and was fortunate enough to escape alive from the desperate action of Jadaydah.[FN#3] Rheumatism obliged him [p.393] to return to Cairo, where he began by divorcing his wife for great levity of conduct. In the early part of 1814, Mahomet, inspired by the news of Mohammed Ali Pasha�s success in Al-Hijaz, joined a reinforcement of Albanians, travelled to Suez, touched at Yambu� and at Jeddah, assisted at the siege and capture of Kunfudah, and was present at its recapture by the Wahhabis. Wounded, sick, harassed by the Badawin, and disgusted by his commanding officer, he determined to desert again, adding, as an excuse, �not that the step, on my part at least, had the character of a complete desertion, since I intended to join the main body of the army;� and to his mania for desertion we owe the following particulars concerning the city of Meccah. �Exulting in my escape, my mind was in a state to receive very strong impressions, and I was much struck with all I saw upon entering the city; for though it is neither large nor beautiful in itself, there is something in it that is calculated to impress a sort of awe, and it was the hour of noon when everything is very silent, except the Muezzins calling from the minarets. �The principal feature of the city is that celebrated sacred enclosure which is placed about the centre of it; it is a vast paved court with doorways opening into it from every side, and with a covered colonnade carried all round like a cloister, while in the midst of the open space stands the edifice called the Caaba, whose walls are entirely covered over on the outside with hangings of rich velvet,[FN#4] on which there are Arabic inscriptions embroidered in gold. �Facing one of its angles (for this little edifice is of [p.394] a square form),[FN#5] there is a well which is called the well Zemzem, of which the water is considered so peculiarly holy that some of it is even sent annually to the Sultan at Constantinople; and no person who comes to Meccah, whether on pilgrimage or for mere worldly considerations, ever fails both to drink of it and to use it in his ablutions, since it is supposed to wipe out the stain of all past transgressions. �There is a stone also near the bottom of the building itself which all the visitants kiss as they pass round it, and the multitude of them has been so prodigious as to have worn the surface quite away. �Quite detached, but fronting to the Caaba, stand four pavilions (corresponding to the four sects of the Mahometan religion), adapted for the pilgrims; and though the concourse had of late years been from time to time much interrupted, there arrived just when I came to Meccah two Caravans of them, one Asiatic and one from the African side, amounting to not less than about 40,000 persons, who all seemed to be full of reverence towards the holy place.[FN#6]� After commenting on the crowded state of the city, the lodging of pilgrims in tents and huts, or on the bare ground outside the walls,[FN#7] and the extravagant prices of provisions, Haji Mahomet proceeds with his description. �Over and above the general ceremonies of the purification at the well, and of the kissing of the corner-stone,[FN#8] [p.395]and of the walking round the Caaba a certain number of times in a devout manner, every one has also his own separate prayers to put up, and so to fulfil the conditions of his vow and the objects of his particular pilgrimage.� We have then an account of the Mosque-pigeons, for whom it is said, �some pilgrims bring with them even from the most remote countries a small quantity of grain, with which they may take the opportunity of feeding these birds.� This may have occurred in times of scarcity; the grain is now sold in the Mosque. �The superstitions and ceremonies of the place,� we are told, �are by no means completed within the city, for the pilgrims, after having performed their devotions for a certain time at the Caaba, at last in a sort of procession go to a place called Arafat, an eminence which stands detached in the centre of a valley; and in the way thither there is a part of the road for about the space of a mile where it is customary to run.[FN#9] The road also passes near a spot where was formerly a well which is superstitiously supposed to be something unholy and cursed by the Prophet himself. And for this reason, every pilgrim as he goes by it throws a stone; and the custom is so universal and has prevailed so long that none can be picked up in the neighbourhood, and it is necessary therefore to provide them from a distance, and some persons even bring them out of their own remote countries, thinking thereby to gain the greater favour in the sight of Heaven.[FN#10] [p.396]�Beyond this point stands a column,[FN#11] which is set up as the extreme limit of the pilgrimage, and this every pilgrim must have passed before sunrise; while all such as have not gone beyond it by that time must wait till the next year, if they wish to be entitled to the consideration and privileges of complete Hajis, since, without this circumstance, all the rest remains imperfect. �The hill of Arafat lying at a distance of seven hours from Meccah, it is necessary to set out very early in order to be there in time; many of the pilgrims, and especially the more devout amongst them, performing all the way on foot. �When they have reached the place[FN#12] all who have any money according to their means sacrifice a sheep, and the rich often furnish those who are poor and destitute with the means of buying one. �Such a quantity of sacrifices quite fills the whole open space with victims, and the poor flock from all the country round to have meat distributed to them. �After which, at the conclusion of the whole ceremony, all the names are registered by a scribe appointed for the purpose[FN#13]: and when this is finished the African [p.397] and Asiatic Caravans part company and return to their own several countries, many detachments of the pilgrims visiting Medinah in the way.� Being desirous of enrolment in some new division of Mohammed Ali�s army, Finati overcame the difficulty of personal access to him by getting a memorial written in Turkish and standing at the window of a house joined on to the enclosure of the great temple. After the sixth day the Pasha observed him, and in the �greatest rage imaginable� desired a detailed account of the defeat at Kunfudah. Finati then received five hundred piastres and an order to join a corps at Taif, together with a strict charge of secre[c]y, �since it was of importance that no reverse or check should be generally talked of.� Before starting our author adds some �singular particulars� which escaped him in his account of Meccah. �Many of the pilgrims go through the ceremony of walking the entire circuit of the city upon the outside; and the order in which this is performed is as follows. The devoted first goes without the gates, and, after presenting himself there to the religious officer who presides, throws off all his clothes, and takes a sort of large wrapping garment in lieu of them to cover himself; upon which he sets off walking at a very quick pace, or rather running, to reach the nearest of the four corners of the city, a sort of guide going with him at the same rate all the way, who prompts certain ejaculations or prayers, which he ought to mention at particular spots as he passes; at every angle he finds a barber, who with wonderful quickness wets and shaves one quarter of his head, and so on; till he has reached the barber at the fourth angle, who completes the work. After which the [p.398] pilgrim takes his clothes again, and has finished that act of devotion.[FN#14] �There is also near the holy city an eminence called the hill of light,[FN#15] as I imagine from its remarkable whiteness. Upon this the pilgrims have a custom of leaping while they repeat at the same time prayers and verses of the Koran. Many also resort to a lesser hill, about a mile distant from the city, on which there is a small Mosque, which is reputed as a place of great sanctity. �An annual ceremony takes place in the great temple itself which is worth mentioning before I quit the subject altogether. �I have already spoken of the little square building whose walls are covered with hangings of black and gold, and which is called the Caaba. Once in the year,[FN#16] and once only, this holy of holies is opened, and as there is nothing to prevent admission it appears surprising at first to see so few who are willing to go into the interior, and especially since this act is supposed to have great efficacy in the remission of all past sins. But the reason must be sought for in the conditions which are annexed, since he who enters is, in the first place, bound to exercise no gainful pursuit, or trade, or to work for his livelihood [p.399] in any way whatever; and, next, he must submit patiently to all offences and injuries, and must never again touch anything that is impure or unholy.[FN#17]� �One more remark with reference to the great scene of sacrifice at Arafat. Though the Pasha�s power in Arabia had been now for some time established, yet it was not complete or universal by any means�the Wahhabees still retaining upon many sides a very considerable footing, so that open and unprotected places, even within half a day�s journey of Meccah, might be liable to surprise and violence.� For these reasons, our author informs us, a sufficient force was disposed round Arafat, and the prodigious multitude went and returned without molestation or insult.[FN#18] [p.400] After the pilgrimage Haji Mahomet repaired to Taif. On the road he remarked a phenomenon observable in Al-Hijaz�the lightness of the nights there. Finati attributes it to the southern position of the place. But, observing a perceptible twilight there, I was forced to seek further cause. May not the absence of vegetation, and the heat-absorbing nature of the soil,�granite, quartz, and basalt,�account for the phenomenon[FN#19]? The natives as usual, observing it, have invested its origin with the garb of fable. It is not my intention to accompany Mahomet to the shameful defeat of Taraba, where Tussun Pasha lost three quarters of his army, or to the glorious victory of Bissel, where Mohammed Ali on the 10th January, 1815, broke 24,000 Wahhabis commanded by Faysal bin Sa�ud. His account of this interesting campaign is not full or accurate like Mengin�s; still, being the tale of an eye-witness, it attracts attention. Nothing can be more graphic than his picture of the old conqueror sitting with exulting countenance upon the carpet where he had vowed to await death or victory, and surrounded by heaps of enemies� heads.[FN#20] Still less would it be to the purpose to describe the latter details of Haji Mahomet�s career, his return to Cairo, his accompanying Mr. Bankes to upper Egypt and Syria, and his various trips to Aleppo, Kurdistan, the [p.401] Sa�id, the great Oasis, Nabathaea, Senna�ar, and Dongola. We concede to him the praise claimed by his translator, that he was a traveller to no ordinary extent; but beyond this we cannot go. He was so ignorant that he had forgotten to write[FN#21]; his curiosity and his powers of observation keep pace with his knowledge[FN#22]; his moral character as it appears in print is of that description which knows no sense of shame: it is not candour but sheer insensibility which makes him relate circumstantially his repeated desertions, his betrayal of Fatimah, and his various plunderings. [FN#1] He describes the Harim as containing �the females of different countries, all of them young, and all more or less attractive, and the merriest creatures I ever saw.� His narration proves that affection and fidelity were not wanting there. [FN#2] Mr. Bankes, Finati�s employer and translator, here comments upon Ali Bey�s assertion, �Even to travellers in Mahometan countries, I look upon the safety of their journey as almost impossible, unless they have previously submitted to the rite.� Ali Bey is correct; the danger is doubled by non-compliance with the custom. Mr. Bankes apprehends that �very few renegadoes do submit to it.� In bigoted Moslem countries, it is considered a sine qua non. [FN#3] See Chap. xiii. of this work. [FN#4] �Black cloth, according to Ali Bey; and I believe he is correct.� So Mr. Bankes. If Ali Bey meant broad-cloth, both are in error, as the specimen in my possession�a mixture of silk and cotton�proves. [FN#5] Ali Bey showed by his measurements that no two sides correspond exactly. To all appearance the sides are equal, though it is certain they are not; the height exceeds the length and the breadth. [FN#6] Ali Bey (A.D. 1807) computes 80,000 men, 2,000 women, and 1,000 children at Arafat. Burckhardt (A.D. 1814) calculated it at 70,000. I do not think that in all there were more than 50,000 souls assembled together in 1853. [FN#7] Rich pilgrims always secure lodgings; the poorer class cannot afford them; therefore, the great Caravans from Egypt, Damascus, Baghdad, and other places, pitch on certain spots outside the city. [FN#8] An incorrect expression; the stone is fixed in a massive gold or silver gilt circle to the S.E. angle, but it is not part of the building. [FN#9] Ali Bey is correct in stating that the running is on the return from Arafat, directly after sunset. [FN#10] This sentence abounds in blunders. Sale, Ali Bey, and Burckhardt, all give correct accounts of the little pillar of masonry�it has nothing to do with the well�which denotes the place where Satan appeared to Abraham. The pilgrims do not throw one stone, but many. The pebbles are partly brought from Muzdalifah, partly from the valley of Muna, in which stands the pillar. [FN#11] Mr. Bankes confounds this column with the Devil�s Pillar at Muna. Finati alludes to the landmarks of the Arafat plain, now called Al-Alamayn (the two marks). The pilgrims must stand within these boundaries on a certain day (the 9th of Zu�l Hijjah), otherwise he has failed to observe a rital ordinance. [FN#12] He appears to confound the proper place with Arafat. The sacrifice is performed in the valley of Muna, after leaving the mountain. But Finati, we are told by his translator, wrote from memory�a pernicious practice for a traveller. [FN#13] This custom is now obsolete, as regards the grand body of pilgrims. Anciently, a certificate from the Sharif was given to all who could afford money for a proof of having performed the pilgrimage, but no such practice at present exists. My friends have frequently asked me, what proof there is of a Moslem�s having become a Haji. None whatever; consequently impostors abound. Sa�adi, in the Gulistan, notices a case. But the ceremonies of the Hajj are so complicated and unintelligible by mere description, that a little cross-questioning applied to the false Haji would easily detect him. [FN#14] No wonder Mr. Bankes is somewhat puzzled by this passage. Certainly none but a pilgrim could guess that the author refers to the rites called Al-Umrah and Al-Sai, or the running between Mounts Safa and Marwah. The curious reader may compare the above with Burckhardt�s correct description of the ceremonies. As regards the shaving, Finati possibly was right in his day; in Ali Bey�s, as in my time, the head was only shaved once, and a few strokes of the razor sufficed for the purpose of religious tonsure. [FN#15] Jabal Nur, anciently Hira, is a dull grey as of granite; it derives its modern name from the spiritual light of religion. Circumstances prevented my ascending it, so I cannot comment upon Finati�s �custom of leaping.� [FN#16] Open three days in the year, according to Ali Bey, the same in Burckhardt�s, and in my time. Besides these public occasions, private largesses can always turn the key. [FN#17] I heard from good authority, that the Ka�abah is never opened without several pilgrims being crushed to death. Ali Bey (remarks Mr. Bankes) says nothing of the supposed conditions annexed. In my next volume [Part iii. (�Meccah�) of this work] I shall give them, as I received them from the lips of learned and respectable Moslems. They differ considerably from Finati�s, and no wonder; his account is completely opposed to the strong good sense which pervades the customs of Al-Islam. As regards his sneer at the monastic orders in Italy�that the conditions of entering are stricter and more binding than those of the Ka�abah, yet that numbers are ready to profess in them�it must not be imagined that Arab human nature differs very materially from Italian. Many unworthy feet pass the threshold of the Ka�abah; but there are many Moslems, my friend, Omar Effendi, for instance, who have performed the pilgrimage a dozen times, and would never, from conscientious motives, enter the holy edifice. [FN#18] In 1807, according to Ali Bey, the Wahhabis took the same precaution, says Mr. Bankes. The fact is, some such precautions must always be taken. The pilgrims are forbidden to quarrel, to fight, or to destroy life, except under circumstances duly provided for. Moreover, as I shall explain in another part of this work, it was of old, and still is, the custom of the fiercer kind of Badawin to flock to Arafat�where the victim is sure to be found�for the purpose of revenging their blood-losses. As our authorities at Aden well know, there cannot be a congregation of different Arab tribes without a little murder. After fighting with the common foe, or if unable to fight with him, the wild men invariably turn their swords against their private enemies. [FN#19] So, on the wild and tree-clad heights of the Neilgherry hills, despite the brilliance of the stars, every traveller remarks the darkness of the atmosphere at night. [FN#20] Mohammed Ali gave six dollars for every Arab head, which fact accounts for the heaps that surrounded him. One would suppose that when acting against an ene[m]y, so quick and agile as the Arabs, such an order would be an unwise one. Experience, however, proves the contrary. [FN#21] �Finati�s long disuse of European writing,� says Mr. Bankes, �made him very slow with his pen.� Fortunately, he found in London some person who took down the story in easy, unaffected, and not inelegant Italian. In 1828, Mr. Bankes translated it into English, securing accuracy by consulting the author, when necessary. [FN#22] His translator and editor is obliged to explain that he means Cufic, by �characters that are not now in use,� and the statue of Memnon by �one of two enormous sitting figures in the plain, from which, according to an old story or superstition, a sound proceeds when the sun rises.� When the crew of his Nile-boat �form in circle upon the bank, and perform a sort of religious mummery, shaking their heads and shoulders violently, and uttering a hoarse sobbing or barking noise, till some of them would drop or fall into convulsions,��a sight likely to excite the curiosity of most men�he �takes his gun in pursuit of wild geese.� He allowed Mr. Bankes� mare to eat Oleander leaves, and thus to die of the commonest poison. Briefly, he seems to have been a man who, under favourable circumstances, learned as little as possible. [p.402]APPENDIX VII. NOTES ON MY JOURNEY. BY A. SPRENGER. IN the map to a former edition of the Pilgrimage, Captain Burton�s route from Madina to Meccah is wrongly laid down, owing to a typographical error of the text, �From Wady Laymun to Meccah S.E. 45°;� (see vol. ii. p. 155, ante), whereas the road runs S.W. 45°, or, as Hamdany expresses himself in the commentary on the Qacyda Rod., �Between west and south; and therefore the setting sun shines at the evening prayer (your face being turned towards Meccah) on your right temple.� The account of the eastern route from Madina to Meccah by so experienced a traveller as Captain Burton is an important contribution to our geographical knowledge of Arabia. It leads over the lower terrace of Nejd, the country which Muslim writers consider as the home of the genuine Arabs and the scene of Arabic chivalry. As by this mistake the results of my friend�s pilgrimage, which, though pious as he unquestionably is, he did not undertake from purely religious motives, have been in a great measure marred, I called in 1871 his attention to it. At the same time I submitted to him a sketch of a map in which his own and Burckhardt�s routes are protracted, and a few notes culled from Arabic geographers, with the intention of showing how much light his investigations throw on early [p.403] geography if illustrated by a corrected map; and how they fail to fulfil this object if the mistake is not cleared up. The enterprising traveller approved of both the notes and the map, and expressed it as his opinion that it might be useful to append them to the new edition. I therefore thought proper to recast them, and to present them herewith to the reader. At Sufayna, Burton found the Baghdad Caravan. The regular Baghdad-Meccah Road, of which we have two itineraries, the one reproduced by Hamdany and the other by Ibn Khordadbeh, Qodama, and others, keeps to the left of Sufayna, and runs parallel with the Eastern Madina-Meccah Road to within one stage of Meccah. We find only one passage in Arabic geographers from which we learn that the Baghdadlies, as long as a thousand years ago, used under certain circumstances to take the way of Sufayna. Yacut, vol. iii. p. 403, says �Sufayna ([Arabic] Cufayna), a place in the caliya (Highland) within the territory of the Solaymites, lies on the road of Zobayda. The pilgrims make a roundabout, and take this road, if they suffer from want of water. The pass of Sufayna, by which they have to descend, is very difficult.� The ridges over which the road leads are called al-Sitar, and are described by Yacut, vol. iii. p. 38, as a range of red hills, flanking Sufayna, with defiles which serve as passes. Burton, vol. ii. p. 128, describes them as low hills of red sandstone and bright porphyry. Zobayda, whose name the partly improved, partly newly opened Hajj-Road from Baghdad to Meccah bore, was the wife of Caliph Harun, and it appears from Burton, pp. 134 and 136, that the improvements made by this spirited woman�as the wells near Ghadir, and the Birkat (Tank)�are now ascribed to her weak, fantastical, and contemptible husband. Burton�s description of the plain covered with huge boulders and detached rocks (p. 131) puts us in mind of [p.404] the Felsenmeer in the Odenwald. Yacut, vol. iii. p. 370, describes the two most gigantic of these rock-pillars, which are too far to the left of Burton�s road than that he could have seen them: �Below Sufayna in a desert plain there rise two pillars so high that nobody, unless he be a bird, can mount them; the one is called cAmud (column) of al-Ban, after the place al-Ban, and the other cAmud of al-Safh. They are both on the right-hand side of the (regular) road from Baghdad to Meccah, one mile from Ofayciya (a station on the regular road which answers to Sufayna).� Such desolate, fantastic scenery is not rare in Arabia nor close to the western coast of the Red Sea. The Fiumara, from which Burton (p. 138) emerged at six A.M., Sept. 9, was crossed by Burckhardt at Kholayc, and is a more important feature of the country than the two travellers were aware of. There are only five or six Wadies which break through the chain of mountains that runs parallel with the Red Sea, and of these, proceeding from south to north, Wady Nakhla (Wady Laymun) is the first, and this Fiumara the second. Early geographers call it Wady Amaj, or after a place of some importance situated in its lower course, Wady Saya. Hamdany, p. 294, says: �Amaj and Ghoran are two Wadies which commence in the Harra (volcanic region) of the Beni Solaym, and reach the sea.� The descriptions of this Wady compiled by Yacut, vol. iii. pp. 26 and 839, are more ample. According to one, it contains seventy springs: according to another, it is a Wady which you overlook if you stand on the Sharat (the mountain now called Jebel Cobh). In its upper course it runs between the two Hamiya, which is the name of two black volcanic regions. It contains several villages of note, and there lead roads to it from various parts of the country. In its uppermost part lies the village of Faric with date-groves, cultivated fields and gardens, producing plantains, pomegranates, and grapes, and in its lower [p.405] course, close to Saya, the rich and populous village Mahaya. The whole Wady is one of the Acradh (oasis-like districts) of Madina, and is administered by a Lieutenant of the Governor of that city. Yacut makes the remark to this description: �I do not know whether this valley is still in the same condition, or whether it has altered.� Though we know much less of it than Yacut, we may safely assert that the cultivation has vanished and the condition has altered. At Zariba ([Arabic], Dhariba) Burton and his party put on the Ihram (pilgrim-garb). If the Baghdadlies follow the regular road they perform this ceremony at Dzat-Irq, which lies somewhat lower down than Dhariba, to the South-east of it, and therefore the rain-water which falls in Dhariba flows in the shape of a torrent to Dzat-Irq, and is thence carried off by the Northern Nakhla. Above the station of Dzat-Irq there rise ridges called Irq; up these ridges the regular Baghdad Road ascends to the high-plateau, and they are therefore considered by early geographers as the western limit of Nejd. Omara apud Yacut, vol. iv. p. 746, says: �All the country in which the water flows in an Easterly (North-easterly) direction, beginning from Dzat-Irq as far as Babylonia, is called Nejd; and the country which slopes Westwards, from Dzat-Irq to Tihama (the coast), is called Hijaz.� The remarks of Arabic geographers on the Western watershed, and those of Burton, vol. ii. pp. 142 and 154, illustrate and complete each other most satisfactorily. It appears from Yacut that the Fiumara in which Burton�s party was attacked by robbers takes its rise at Ghomayr close to Dzat-Irq, that there were numerous date-groves in it, and that it falls at Bostan Ibn camir into the Nakhla, wherefore it is called the Northern Nakhla. The Southern Nakhla, also called simply Nakhla, a term which is sometimes reserved for the trunk formed by the junction of the Southern and Northern [p.406] Nakhla from Bostan Ibn camir downwards, is on account of its history one of the most interesting spots in all Arabia; I therefore make no apology for entering on its geography. In our days it is called Wady Laymun, and Burckhardt, vol. i. p. 158, says of it: �Zeyme is a half-ruined castle, at the eastern extremity of Wady Lymoun, with copious springs of running water. Wady Lymoun is a fertile valley, which extends for several hours (towards West) in the direction of Wady Fatme (anciently called Batn Marr, or Marr-Tzahran, which is, in fact, a continuation of Wady Nakhla). It has many date-plantations, and formerly the ground was cultivated; but this, I believe, has ceased since the Wahabi invasion: its fruit-gardens, too, have been ruined. This (he means the village Laymun, compare Burton, vol. ii. p. 147) is the last stage of the Eastern-Syrian Hadj route. To the South-east or East-south-east of Wady Lymoun is another fertile valley, called Wady Medyk, where some sherifs are settled, and where Sherif Ghaleb possessed landed property.[FN#1]� In the commentary on the Qacyda Rod., [p.407] Wady Nakhla, as far as the road to Meccah runs through it, is described as follows: From the ridges with whose declivity the Western watershed begins, you descend into Wady Baubat; it is flanked on the left side by the Sarat mountains, on which Tayif stands, and contains Qarn-almanazil (once the capital of the Minaeans, the great trading nation of antiquity). Three or four miles below Qarn is Masjid Ibrahym, and here the valley assumes the name of Wady Nakhla. At no great distance from the Masjid there rise on the left-hand side of the Wady two high peaks called Jebel Yasum and Jebel Kafw. Both were the refuge of numerous monkeys, who used to invade the neighbouring vineyards. As you go down Wady Nakhla the first place of importance you meet is al-Zayma. Close to it was a garden which, during the reign of Moqtadir, belonged to the Hashimite Prince Abd Allah, and was in a most flourishing condition. It produced an abundance of henna, plantains, and vegetables of every description, and yielded a revenue of five thousand Dinar-mithqals (about £2,860) annually. A canal from Wady (the river) Nakhla feeds a fountain which jets forth in the midst of the garden, and lower down a tank. In the garden stood a fort (which in a dilapidated condition is extant to this day, and spoken of by Burckhardt). It was built of huge stones, guarded for the defence of the property by the Banu Sa�d, and tenanted by the servants and followers of the proprietor. Below al-Zayma is Sabuha, a post-station where a relay of horses was kept for the transport of Government Despatches. To give an idea of the distances, I may mention that the post-stages were twelve Arabic miles asunder, which on this road are rather larger than an English geographical mile. The first station from Meccah was Moshash, the second Sabuha, and the third was at the foot of the hill Yasum. The author of the commentary from which I derive this information leaves Wady Nakhla soon after Sabuha, and [p.408] turns his steps towards the holy city. He mentions �the steep rocky Pass� up which Burton toiled with difficulty, and calls it Orayk. Though he enters into many details, he takes no notice of the hill-girt plain called Sola. This name occurs however in an Arabic verse, apud Yacut, vol. ii. p. 968: �In summer our pasture-grounds are in the country of Nakhla, within the districts of al-Zayma and Sola.� In W[a]dy Fatima, Burckhardt found a perennial rivulet, coming from the Eastward, about three feet broad and two feet deep. It is certain that Wady Fat?ima, formerly called Wady Marr, is a continuation of Wady Nakhla, and Yacut considers in one passage Nakhla as a subdivision of Marr, and in another Marr as part of Wady Nakhla; but we do not know whether the rivulet, which at al-Zayma seems to be of considerable size, disappears under the sand in order to come forth again in W[a]dy Marr, or whether it forms an uninterrupted stream. In ancient times the regular Baghdad-Meccah Road did not run down from Dzat-Irq by the Northern Nakhla which Burton followed, but it crossed this Wady near its Northern end and struck over to the Southern Nakhla as far as Qarn almarazil, which for a long time was the second station from Meccah, instead of Dzat-cIrq. [FN#1] Medyq is Burton�s El-Mazik, the spelling in Arabic being [Arabic] Madhyq. Burckhardt�s account leads us to think that the village now called Madhyq, or Wady Laymun, lies on the left bank of the Fiumara, and is identical with Bostan Ibn �Amir, which is described by Yacut as situated in the fork between the Northern and Southern Nakhlas, and which in ancient times had, like the village Wady Laymun, the name of the valley of which it was the chief place, viz., Batn Nakhla. Burton gives no information of the position of the village, but he says: �On the right bank of the Fiumara stood the Meccan Sharif�s state pavilion.� Unless the pavilion is separated from the village by the Fiumara there is a discrepancy between the two accounts, which leads me to suspect that �right� is an oversight for �left.� Anciently [Arabic] was pronounced Nakhlat, and, if we suppress the guttural, as the Greeks and Romans sometimes did, Nalat. Strabo, p. 782, in his narrative of the retreat of Aelius Gallus, mentions a place which he calls Mal?tha, and of which he says it stood on the bank of a river�a position which few towns in Arabia have. The context leaves no doubt that he means Batn Nakhla, and that Maltha is a mistake for Naltha. [p.409]APPENDIX VIII. THE MECCAH PILGRIMAGE. HAVING resolved to perform the Meccah pilgrimage, I spent a few months at Cairo, and on the 22nd of May embarked in a small steamer at Suez with the �mahmil� or litter, and its military escort, conveying the �kiswah� or covering for the �kabah.� On the 25th the man at the wheel informed us that we were about to pass the village of Rabikh, on the Arabian coast, and that the time had consequently arrived for changing our usual habiliments for the �ihram,� or pilgrim-costume of two towels, and for taking the various interdictory vows involved in its assumption: such as not to tie knots in any portion of our dress, not to oil the body, and not to cut our nails or hair, nor to improve the tints of the latter with the coppery red of henna. Transgression of these and other ceremonial enactments is expiated either by animal sacrifice, or gifts of fruit or cereals to the poor. After a complete ablution and assuming the ihram, we performed two prayer-flections, and recited the meritorious sentences beginning with the words �Labbaik Allah huma labbaik!� �Here I am, O God, here I am! Here I am, O Unassociated One, here I am, for unto Thee belong praise, grace, and empire, O Unassociated One!� This prayer was repeated so often, people not unfrequently rushing up to their friends and shrieking the sacred sentence into their ears, that at last it became a signal for merriment rather than an indication of piety. [p.410]On the 26th we reached Jeddah, where the utter sterility of Arabia, with its dunes and rocky hills, becomes apparent. The town, however, viewed from the sea, is not unpicturesque. Many European vessels were at anchor off the coast: and as we entered the port, innumerable small fishing-boats darting in all directions, their sails no longer white, but emerald green from the intense lustre of the water, crowded around us on all sides, and reminded one by their dazzling colours and rapidity of motion of the shoals of porpoises so often seen on a voyage round the Cape. On disembarking we were accosted by several �mut?awwafs,� or circuit-men, so termed in Arabic, because, besides serving as religious guides in general, their special duty is to lead the pilgrim in his seven obligatory circuits around the Kabah. We encamped outside the town, and, having visited the tomb of �our Mother Eve,� mounted our camels for Meccah. After a journey of twenty hours across the Desert, we passed the barriers which mark the outermost limits of the sacred city, and, ascending some giant steps, pitched our tents on a plain, or rather plateau, surrounded by barren rock, some of which, distant but a few yards, mask from view the birthplace of the Prophet. It was midnight; a few drops of rain were falling, and lightning played around us. Day after day we had watched its brightness from the sea, and many a faithful haji had pointed out to his companions those fires which were Heaven�s witness to the sanctity of the spot. �Al hamdu Lillah!� Thanks be to God! we were now at length to gaze upon the �Kiblah,� to which every Mussulman has turned in prayer since the days of Muhammad, and which for long ages before the birth of Christianity was reverenced by the Patriarchs of the East. Soon after dawn arose from our midst the shout of �Labbaik! Labbaik!� and passing [p.411] between the rocks, we found ourselves in the main street of Meccah, and approached the �Gateway of Salvation,� one of the thirty-nine portals of the Temple of Al-Haram. On crossing the threshold we entered a vast unroofed quadrangle, a mighty amplification of the Palais Royal, having on each of its four sides a broad colonnade, divided into three aisles by a multitude of slender columns, and rising to the height of about thirty feet. Surmounting each arch of the colonnade is a small dome: in all there are a hundred and twenty, and at different points arise seven minarets, dating from various epochs, and of somewhat varying altitudes and architecture. The numerous pigeons which have their home within the temple have been believed never to alight upon any portion of its roof, thus miraculously testifying to the holiness of the building. This marvel having, however, of late years been suspended, many discern another omen of the approach of the long-predicted period when unbelievers shall desecrate the hallowed soil. In the centre of the square area rises the far-famed Kabah, the funereal shade of which contrasts vividly with the sunlit walls and precipices of the town. It is a cubical structure of massive stone, the upper two-thirds of which are mantled by a black cloth embroidered with silver, and the lower portion hung with white linen. At a distance of several yards it is surrounded by a balustrade provided with lamps, which are lighted in the evening, and the space thus enclosed is the circuit-ground along which, day and night, crowds of pilgrims, performing the circular ceremony of Tawaf, realize the idea of perpetual motion. We at once advanced to the black stone imbedded in an angle of the Kabah, kissed it, and exclaimed, �Bismillah wa Allahu Akbar,���In God�s name, and God is greatest.� Then we commenced the usual seven rounds, three at a walking pace, and four at a brisk trot. Next p.412] followed two prayer-flections at the tomb of Abraham, after which we drank of the water of Zamzam, said to be the same which quenched the thirst of Hagar�s exhausted son. Besides the Kabah, eight minor structures adorn the quadrangle, the well of Zamzam, the library, the clock-room, the triangular staircase, and four ornamental resting-places for the orthodox sects of Hanafi, Shafi, Maliki, and Hanbali. We terminated our morning duties by walking and running seven times along the streets of Safa and Marwa, so named from the flight of seven steps at each of its extremities. After a few days spent in visiting various places of interest, such as the slave-market and forts, and the houses of the Prophet and the Caliphs �Ali and Abubakr, we started on our six hours� journey to the mountain of �Arifat, an hour�s sojourn at which, even in a state of insensibility, confers the rank of haji. It is a mountain spur of about a hundred and fifty feet in height, presenting an artificial appearance from the wall encircling it and the terrace on its slope, from which the iman delivers a sermon before the departure of his congregation for Meccah. His auditors were, indeed, numerous, their tents being scattered over two or three miles of the country. A great number of their inmates were fellow-subjects of ours from India. I surprised some of my Meccah friends by informing them that Queen Victoria numbers nearly twenty millions of Mohammedans among her subjects. On the 5th of June, at sunset, commencing our return, we slept at the village of Muzdalifah, and there gathered and washed seven pebbles of the size of peas, to be flung at three piles of whitewashed masonry known as the Shaitans (Satans) of Mun?. We acquitted ourselves satisfactorily of this duty on the festival of the 6th of [p.413] June, the 10th day of the Arabian month Zu�lhijah. Each of us then sacrificed a sheep, had his hair and nails cut, exchanged the ihram for his best apparel, and, embracing his friends, paid them the compliments of the season. The two following days the Great, the Middle, and the Little Satan were again pelted, and, bequeathing to the unfortunate inhabitants of Muna the unburied and odorous remains of nearly a hundred thousand animals, we returned, eighty thousand strong, to Meccah. A week later, having helped to insult the tumulus of stones which marks, according to popular belief, the burial-place of Abulah?ab, the unbeliever, who, we learn from the Koran, has descended into hell with his wife, gatherer of sticks, I was not sorry to relinquish a shade temperature of 120°, and wend my way to Jeddah en route for England, after delegating to my brethren the recital of a prayer in my behalf at the Tomb of the Prophet at Medina. In penning these lines I am anxious to encourage other Englishmen, especially those from India, to perform the pilgrimage, without being deterred by exaggerated reports concerning the perils of the enterprise. It must, however, be understood that it is absolutely indispensable to be a Mussulman (at least externally) and to have an Arabic name. Neither the Koran nor the Sultan enjoins the killing of intrusive Jews or Christians; nevertheless, two years ago, an incognito Jew, who refused to repeat the creed, was crucified by the Meccah populace, and in the event of a pilgrim again declaring himself to be an unbeliever the authorities would be almost powerless to protect his life. An Englishman who is sufficiently conversant with the prayers, formulas, and customs of the Mussulmans, and possess a sufficient guarantee of orthodoxy, need, however, apprehend no danger if he applies through the British Consulate at Cairo for an introduction to the Amirul Haj, the Prince of the Caravan. [p.414]Finally, I am most anxious to recommend as Mutawwaf at Meccah Shaikh Muhammed �Umr Fanair-jizadah. He is extremely courteous and obliging, and has promised me to show to other Englishmen the same politeness which I experienced from him myself. 1862 A.D. 1278 A.H. [Arabic] (EL HAJ ABD EL WAHID.) END OF VOLUME II. [p.415]INDEX. AAKAL, or fillet, of the Arabs, i. 235 Aaron, burial place of, on Mount Ohod, i. 346, 423; ii. 275. His grave also shown over the summit of Mount Hor, i. 346, n. Aba, the, or camel�s hair cloak of Arab shaykhs, i. 236 Abar (Saba), or seven wells, of Kuba, i. 414 Abbas Effendi, deputy governor of Alexandria, an interview with, i. 21 Abbas, prayers for, i. 328 Abbas, Al-, uncle of Mohammed the Prophet, ii. 353 Abbas, the fiery Shaykh of the Hawazim, ii. 29 Abbas, Ibn, his statement of the settlement of the family of Noah, i. 343 Abbas ibn Abd al-Muttalib, his tomb, ii. 40 Abbas Pasha (Viceroy of Egypt), his enlightened policy, i. 18, 78 His intention to erect a magnificent Mosque, i. 99 His present to the Prophets Mosque, i. 312 His respect for the Alim Mohammed Ibn Abdillah al-Sannusi, ii. 25, n. Abbasiyah, Kubbat al- (Dome of Abbas), visit to the, ii. 39 Abbasiyah Palace at Cairo, i. 78 Abd al-Ashal (tribe of), Al-Islam preached by the Prophet to, i. 352 Converted to Mohammedanism, 353 Abd al-Hakk al-Muhaddis of Delhi, Shaykh, i. 358, n. Abd al-Hamid, the Sultan, his repair of the Mosque of Al-Kuba, i. 409 Abd al-Malik bin Marwar, the Caliph, his additions to the House of Allah, ii. 324 Abd al-Majid, Sultan, his mahmil turned back by robbers in Arabia, i. 257 Imbecility of his government in Arabia, i. 257 His Tanzimat, i. 258 Sends gifts to the robbers of Arabia, i. 260 His war with the Czar, i. 291 His additions to the Prophet�s Mosque at Al-Madinah, i. 308 Abolishes Wakf in Turkey, i. 359, n. Abd al-Muttalib (Shaybah), grandfather of the Prophet, i. 351, n. Abd al-Muttalib bin Ghalib, Sharif of Meccah, i. 259 Description of him, ii[.] 150 His cavalcade, 150 His children, 150 His quarrel with Ahmad Pasha of Al-Hijaz, 151, n. His Palace, 152 His procession to the ceremonies of the day of Arafat, 194 Abd al-Rahim al-Burai, the saint of Jahaydah, i. 262 Abd al-Rahim al-Burai, the poet, quoted, ii. 212 Abd al-Rahman, meaning of the name, i. 14 Abd al-Rahman, tomb of, ii. 249 [p.416] Abd al-Rahman al-Ausat, tomb of, ii. 44 Abd al-Rahman bin Auf, his tomb, ii. 43, n. Abd al-Wahhab, Shaykh, the chief of the Afghan college at Cairo, i. 130 His kindness to the pilgrim, 131 Visits the Pilgrim, 142 Abdullah, father of the Prophet, his burial-place, i. 351, n. Abdullah bin Ja�afar al-Tayyar, his tomb, i. 44 Abdullah bin Jaysh, his tomb, i. 429 Abdullah bin Mas�ud, his tomb, ii. 44, n. Abdullah bin Salam, the Jew, of Al-Madinah, converted to Al-Islam, i. 358 Abdullah bin Sa�ud concludes a peace with the Egyptians, i. 370 His unsuccessful attack on Jeddah, ii. 265, n. Abdullah bin Zubayr, nephew of Ayishah, builds the ninth House of Allah, ii. 323 Slain, 324 Abdullah, Pasha of Damascus, i. 263 Abdullah, Shaykh, the assumed name of the author, i. 14 Meaning of the name, 14, n. Abdullah Sahib, Shaykh, the Indian physician of Al-Madinah, ii. 5 Abdullah, Shaykh (the pilgrim�s namesake), introduced, ii. 129 His acquirements, 130 His success with the Syrians in the Desert, 133 Acts as director of the pilgrims� consciences, 133 His accident on camel back, 146 Abdullah, son of the Sharif of Meccah, ii. 150 Abdullah the Saudawi, or melancholist, ii. 230 Performs a wakil for the pilgrim�s parents, 243 His farewell of the pilgrim, 260 Abel, his burial-place at Damascus, ii. 160, n. Abrahah of Sana�a, erects the Kilis to outshine the Ka�abah, i. 321 Abraham, i. 212 Mosque at Meccah connected with, i. 305 Stone on which he stood, preserved at Meccah, ii. 112 History of it, 112, it, n Legend respecting his having learnt the rites of pilgrimage, 321 The Moslem idea of the existence of two Abrahams, ii. 239 Abrahat al-Ashram, destruction of the host of, i. 384, n. Abrar, or call to prayer, i. 88 Abs, the tribe of Arabs, so called, ii. 119 Absinthe, of the Desert, i. 155 Abu Abbas al-Andalusi, the Wali of Alexandria, tomb of, i. 12 Abu Ali, the fiery Shaykh of the Hawazim, ii. 29 Abu Ayyub, the Ansari, receives Mohammed after the Flight, i. 351, 355-357 Abu Bakr, the Caliph, his window at Al-Madinah, i. 316, 320 The benediction bestowed on, 320 His tomb, 324 Elected Caliph, 339 How regarded by Orthodox Moslems and Shi�ahs, 354 n. His dwelling near the Mosque, 358 His Mosque at Al-Madinah, i. 395; ii. 48 The first who bore the title of Emir al-Hajj, 420, n. Abu Daraj (Father of Steps), wells of, i. 158, n. The mountain of, 158 Abu Hurayrah, his account of the building of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 361 Abu Jubaylah, his destruction of the power of the Jews in Al-Madinah, i. 349 Abu Kubays, the hill, the burial-place of Adam, ii. 160, 173 Abu Lahab, his ambuscade laid for the Prophet, site of, ii. 242 Abulfeda, his limits of Al-Hijaz, i. 376 [p.417] Abu Sa�id al-Khazari, tomb of, at Al-Bakia, ii. 36 Abuse of Christians in the East, ii. 335 Abu Shuja�a of Isfahan, his theological work, i. 106 Abu Sufiyan routed by Mohammed the Prophet, i. 275 Abu Sufiyan bin al-Haris, his tomb, ii. 44, n. Abu Zulaymah, Shaykh, the Red Sea saint, i. 199, 200 Abwa, tomb of Aminah at, i. 351, n. Abyaz, or white, i. 381, n. Abyssinian slaves in Egypt, i. 59 Style of courtship of, 59. Derivation of the name, i. 177, n. Abyssinian slave girls, their value, ii. 13 Acacia, quantities of, ii. 68, 69, 72 Acacia-barren, terrors of an, ii. 69 Academia, the, of Al-Madinah, i. 338 Adam, stature of, according to Moslem legends, i. 204 His burial place at the hill Abu Kubays, ii. 160 Legend of Adam and Eve at Mount Arafat, 189 Adam�s place of prayer at Arafat, 193 Adnan, the tribe of Arabs so called, ii. 119 Adas (lentils). See Lentils Aden, ancient wells at, i. 204, n.; dry storms of, i. 247 Adultery, how punished at Al-Madinah, ii. 19 Advenae, of Arabia, ii. 77, n. Aelius Gallus, i. 189 Aerolite worship, ii. 300, n. Afghans, a chivalrous race, i. 40 Africans, their susceptibility to religious phrenzy, ii. 175 Agapemones, suppression of, in Egypt, i. 81, n. Aghas, or eunuchs of the tomb of the Prophet, i. 316, n., 321 et seq; Agha, pl Aghawat, a term of address to the eunuchs of the tomb, i. 371, n. Agni, the Indian fire-god, ii. 160, n. Ague, prevalence of, in the East, i. 13 Ahali, or burghers, of Al-Madinah, i. 375 Ahl al-Risa, or the �people of the garment,� i. 327, n. Ahmad Pasha, of Al-Hijaz, ii. 256 His quarrel with the Sharif of Meccah, ii. 151, n. Ahmad, son of the Sharif of Meccah, ii. 150 Ahzab, the Masjid al-, ii. 47 Ahzab, Al-, the battle of, ii. 47 Aimmat, the Shaykh al-, of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 374 Ajami, meaning of the term, i. 11 Ajwah, the date so called, ii. 401 Ajwah (conserve of dates), ii. 401, n. Akabah, ill-omened, i. 203, 213 Akabah, a steep descent, ii. 251, n. Akd al-Nikah, or Ziwaj (Arab marriage), at Al-Madinah, ii. 23 Akhdam, or Serviles, of Al-Yaman, ii. 78, n. Akhshabayn, Al-, the �two rugged hills,� near Arafat, ii. 182 The confusion of the return of the pilgrims at, 200 Akhawah, Al-, the black mail among the Badawin, ii. 141 Akif, Haji, accosts the pilgrim, ii. 261 [p.418] Akik, Wady al-, i. 278, n. Aksa, the Masjid al-, at Jerusalem, ii. 305 Akhawat, the relationship among the Badawin so called, ii. 113 Alai, or regiment, of soldiers, i. 394 Alamayn (the �Twin Signs�), near Arafat, i. 379, ii. 182 Visit to the, 242 Albanians, or Arnauts, their desperate manners and customs, i. 133 Their man-shooting amusements, 133 A drinking bout with one, 135 One killed by a sunstroke, i. 265 Parade of irregular horse, 266 Their singular appearance, 267 Their delight in the noise of musketry, 267, n. Their method of rifling their bullets, 267, n. Fight between them and the hill Arabs, 269 A quarrelsome one in the Caravan, ii. 137 Alchemy, favourite Egyptian pursuit of, i. 108, n. Alexander of Alexandria, i. 143, n. Alexandria, i. 10 A city of misnomers, 10 Its peculiar interest to Moslems, 12 Shopping in, 11 Venerable localities in, ib. Whiteness of the walls of, 20, n. The Foreign Office of, 22 The Transit Office, 27 Algebra, study of, in Egypt, i. 107, n. Alhambra, i. 95 Alhamdolillah, meaning of the ejaculation, i. 8 Ali, the fourth Caliph, reference to, ii. 280 His pillar at Al-Madinah, 326, n. His spouse, Lady Fatimah, 327 et seq. Column of, in the Prophet�s Mosque, 336 Remains with the Prophet, 354 Joins Mohammed at Kuba, 355 His dwelling near the Mosque, 358 His Mosque at Al-Madinah, 395 Called the �Musalla al-id,� ib. The birthplace of, at Meccah, ii. 254 Ali (the Masjid) at Al-Kuba, i. 412 At Al-Madinah, ii. 48 Ali Agha, an Albanian captain of Irregulars, or Yuzbashi, i. 132 His personal appearance, 132 Origin of the pilgrim�s acquaintance with him, 132 Manners and customs of his countrymen, 133 His call and invitation, 135 A drinking bout with him, 136 Ali Bey al-Abbasi, i. 215, n.; 225, n. Employed as spy by the French government, ii. 319. n. Value of his works, 319. n. History of him, 319, n. Ali bin Ya Sin, the Zemzemi, ii. 125 A type of the Arab old man, 125 His accident on camel-back, 146 His appearance at the ceremonies of the day of Arafat, 194 Insists on bestowing his company on the pilgrim, 199 His irritation, 202 His invitation to the pilgrim to dinner, 255 Description of the meal, 256 Ali al-Urays, a descendant of the Prophet, his tomb, ii. 59 Ali Murad, owner of the pilgrim-ship, i. 189, 192 Aliki tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Alms (sadaka), given the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 312 The, contributed to the Prophet�s Mosque, 374 Aloe, superstitions of the Arabs and Africans respecting the, ii. 248 Amalekites, identified with the Amalik of the Moslems, i. 343, n. Amalik, the tribe. See Aulad Sam bin Nuh Amalikah, their foundation of the fifth house of Allah, ii. 321 Amalikah tribes, their mixture with the Himyaritic, ii. 79 [p.419] Ambassadors, shameful degradation of, by Moslems, i. 112 Ambari gate of Al-Madinah, i. 285, 287, 395 Ambariyah, of Al-Madinah, house of the Coptic girl Mariyah at, i. 362, n. American Indians, North, compared with the Badawin, ii. 118 Inferiority of the former, 119 Amin, Al- (the Honest), origin of the surname of the Prophet, ii. 323 Aminah, Sitt (mother of the Prophet), her tomb, i. 351, n.; ii. 249 Amlak bin Arfakhshad bin Sam bin Nuh, i. 343 Amlak (property in land) of the Benu Hosayn, ii. 4 Amm Jamal, the native of Al-Madinah, i. 230 Amr, the tribe of, saved from the deluge of Iram, i. 349 Their abodes at Al-Madinah, 355 Their language, ii. 99, n. Amr bin Amin Mal-al-Sama, his stratagem, i. 348 Saved from the Yamanian deluge, 349 The forefather of Mohammed, 349 Amr al-Kays, poet and warrior, his death from ulcer, i. 390 Amur, the Benu, ii. 120, n. Its sub-divisions, 121, n. Amusements of the Cairenes, i. 116 Anakim, Moslem, belief in, i. 204 Anatolia, i. 191 Angels, place of the (Malaikah), at Al-Madinah, i. 326 Prayer at the, 326 Anizah, the Benu (a Jewish tribe), in Arabia, i. 347, n. Their temperament, ii. 78, 121 Ansar, Arab tribe of, i. 347 Ansar, or Auxiliaries, of Al-Madinah, i. 355 Assist Mohammed in building the first Mosque, 357 One of the, sells his house to the Prophet, 361 Antar, songs of, Warburton�s opinion of, ii. 95 Antichrist (Al-Dajjal), the Moslem belief respecting, i. 378, n. Antimony (Kohl), used as a remedy in small-pox, i. 385 Anzah (iron-shod javelin), i. 407 Apes, of Al-Hijaz, ii. 220 Traditions respecting them, 220, n. Stories told of them, 221 Apple of Sodom, ii. 137, n. �Arabesque,� origin of, i. 94 Arabesques, the vulgar, of the Riwaks at Al-Madinah and of the tombs at Cairo, i. 335 Arabia, horses of, i. 3 The Ruba al-Khali, 3 Possesses no river worthy of the name, 4 Testimony of Ibn Haukal to this fact, 4 Contains three distinct races, 4 Enumeration of them, 4 Remnants of heathenry in, 4 Destruction of the idols of the Arab pantheon, 91. Origin of Arab art, 94, n. Closed against trade with Christianity as early as the 7th century, 113, n. The �Mountains of Paradise� with which it abounds, 222 The little villages in, continually changing their names, 245 The �dry storm� of, 247 A Caravan in, 249 The water-courses (misyal) of, 250 Excellent water found in the Deserts of, 254 Depopulation of villages and districts in, 254 Bands of robbers in, 256 Imbecility of the Turkish Government in, 257 The �poison wind� of, 265, n. The celebrated horses and camels from Nijd, 266, n. Wells of the Indians in Arabia, 274 Moslem account [p.420] of the first settlement in, 343 One of the nurseries of mankind, 344, n. Causes of the continual emigrations from, 345, n. Governed by the Benu Israel, after the destruction of the Amalik, 346 Derivation of the name Arabia, 346, n. The flood of Iram, 348 Former possessions of, in Egypt, 359, n. Fire-temples of the ancient Guebres in, 379, n. Diseases of, 384, et seq. Description of a desert in, ii. 131 A night journey in, 132 Arabia Petræa, of the Greeks, i. 376, n. Arab al-Aribah, ii. 77 Arab al-Musta�ajamah, ii. 79 Arab al-Musta�arabah, or half-caste Arab, ii. 79 Arabs. (See also Badawin.) Similarity in language and customs between the Arabs and the tribes occupying the hills that separate India from Persia, 246, n. Generalisation unknown to the Arabs, 250, n. Their ignorance of anything but details, 250 Journey through a country fantastic in its desolation, 252 Ruinous effects of the wars between the Wahhabis and the Egyptians, 254 Good feelings of Arabs easily worked upon, 256 Douceurs given by the Turkish government to the Arab Shaykhs of Al-Hijaz, 266 Fight between the troops and Arabs in Al-Hijaz, 273 The world divided by Arabs into two great bodies, viz., themselves and the �Ajami,� 290, n. Their affectionate greetings, 287, 280, n. Their fondness for coffee, 290, n. Their children and their bad behaviour and language, 292 An Arab breakfast, 298 Melancholia frequent among the Arabs, 299, n. Probable cause of this, 299, n. Tenets of the Wahhabis, 306 Capitulation of the Benu Kurayzah to the Prophet, 336 Moslem early history of some of the tribes, 349, et seq. Dwellings of the Arabs in the time of Mohammed, 359 The seasons divided by them into three, 383 Diseases of the Arabs of Al-Hijaz, 384, et seq. The Arabs not the skilful physicians that they were, 390 Portrait of the farmer race of Arabs, 407 The Arzah, or war dance, 419 Arab superstitions, 427 Difference between the town and country Arab, ii. 13 Their marriages, 23, et seq. Their funerals, 24 Their difficulty of bearing thirst, 69 The races of Al-Hijaz, 76 et seq. Arab jealousy of being overlooked, 318, n. Arabic. Generalisation not the forte of the Arabic language, 250 Its facilities for rhyming, i. 319, n. Traditions respecting its origin, 344 Said to be spoken by the Almighty, 344, n. Changes in the classical Arabic, ii. 15 Purity of the Badawi dialect, 98, n. Examination of the objections to Arabic as a guttural tongue, 99, n. Difference in the articulation of several Badawi clans, 99, n. Suited to poetry, but, it is asserted, not to mercantile transactions, 100 The vicious pronounciation of Indians and slaves, 184, n. The charming song of Maysunah, 190 The beautiful Tumar character, 215 Differences of opinion among travellers and linguists respecting Arabic and its dialects, 235, n. Arafat, the Masjid, at Al-Kuba, i. 412 Tall Arafat, 412 Arafat, mount (anciently Jabal Ilal, now Jabal al-Rahmah), ceremony of the pilgrimage to, ii. 289 Description of, 189 Former high cultivation of the Arafat plain, 187 Derivation of the name of [p.421] the mount, 188, n. The camp arrangements at, 189 Superstitious rite on behalf of women at, 189 The ceremonies of the day of Arafat, 192, et seq. The sermon, 197 The hurry from Arafat, 199 The approach to the Arafat plain, 182 Araki, the Cognac of Egypt and Turkey, i. 134 Called at Cairo �sciroppo di gomma,� 144, n. A favourite drink among all classes and sexes, 144, n. Arbun (earnest money), ii. 52 Arches, pointed, known at Cairo 200 years before they were introduced into England, i. 96 Architecture, the present Saracenic Mosque-architecture, origin of the, i. 364, n. Simple tastes of the Arabs in, 396 The climate inimical to the endurance of the buildings, 396 Arian heretics, i. 143, n. Arimi, tribe of Arabs so called, i. 145 Aris, Al-, (a bridegroom), ii. 23 Arithmetic, Moslem study of, i. 108, n. Arkam bin al-Arkam, last king of the Amalik, i. 345 Armenian marriage, i. 123 Arms prohibited from being carried in Egypt, i. 17 Arms of Arabs, 237, 248; ii. 105, 106 Those worn by Oriental travellers, i. 238 Should always be kept bright, 238 Arms of Arnaut Irregular horse, 266 The use of the bayonet invaluable, 269, n. Stilettos of the Calabrese, 269, n. Sabres preferred to rifles by Indians, 269, n. Army, amount of the Turkish of Al-Hijaz, i. 393, n. The battalion regiment and camp, 394, n. Arnaud, M., his visit to the ruins of the dyke of Mareb, i. 348, n. Arnauts. See Albanians Arwam or Greeks in Al-Madinah, i. 292 Arsh, or throne, of God, ii. 319 Art, Arab origin of, i. 95, n. Arusah, Al- (a bride), ii. 23, n. Arzah, or Arab war-dance, i. 419 As�ad bin Zararah, his conversion by the Prophet, i. 352 Asal Asmar, or brown honey, ii. 130, n. Asclepias gigantea (ashr), its luxuriance in the deserts of Arabia, ii. 137 Bears the long-sought apple of Sodom, 138, n. The fruit used as a medicine by the Arabs, 138, n. Called the �silk-tree,� 138, n. Its probable future commercial importance, 138, n. Ashab, or Companions of the Prophet, i. 320 The Ustuwanat al-Ashab, or Column of the Companions, 326, n. Graves of the, at Al-Bakia, ii. 43 Ashab al-Suffah, or �Companions of the Sofa,� i. 363, n. Ashab, the relationship among the Badawin so called, ii. 113 Ashgar, Ali Pasha, the Emir al-Hajj, ii. 71 Ashr (Asclepias gigantea, which see) Ashwat, or seven courses, round the Ka�abah, ii. 167, n. Askar, the Masjid al-, ii. 49 Asr, al-, or afternoon prayers, i. 311, n. Assayd, the Jewish priest of Al-Madinah, i. 350 [p.422] �Asses turning their back upon Allah�s mercy,� i. 347 Asses, of Al-Madinah, ii. 17 Usefulness of the ass in the East, ii. 241, n. The best and the highest-priced animals, 241, n. Assassination, how to put an end to at Naples and Leghorn, i. 258, n. Assassins (from Hashshashshiyun), i. 187, n. Astronomy among the modern Egyptians, i. 108, n. Among the Badawin, ii. 107 Aswad (dark or black), the word, i. 381, n. Atakah, Jabal (Mountain of Deliverance), i. 195 Atfah, i. 30 Auf, the Benu, their language, ii. 99, n. Their subdivisions, 120, n. Aukaf, or bequests left to the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 374 Those given to the Benu Hosayn, ii. 4 The Nazir al-Aukaf at Constantinople, 7 Aulad Sam bin Nuh (or Amalikah, Amalik) inspired with a knowledge of the Arabic tongue, i. 343 Settles at Al-Madinah, 344 Identified with the Ph�nicians, Amalekites, Canaanites, and Hyksos, 343, n. Supplanted by the Jews, 347 Aus, Arab tribe of, i. 147, 149 Their wars with the Kharaaj, 149 Converted by Mohammed, 352 Their plot against Mohammed, 358 Their mixture with the Amalikah, ii. 79 Austrians, despised in Egypt, i. 111 Awali, the, or plains about Kuba, i. 380 Awam, the, or nobile vulgus of Al-Madinah, i. 375 Ayat, or Koranic verse, i. 353 Ayishah accedes to the wishes of Osman and Hasan to be buried near the Prophet, i. 325 Her pillar in the Mosque of the Prophet, 335 Her chamber, or the Hujrah, surrounded with a mud wall, 363 Anecdote of her, ii. 34, n. Her tomb, 38 Her jealousy of the Coptic girl Mariyah, 47, n. Ayn al-Birkat, i. 227 The Ayn Ali, 227 Ayn al-Zarka (azure spring), of Al-Madinah, i. 381 Ayr, Jabal, its distance from Al-Madinah, i. 379 Cursed by the Prophet, 422 Ayyas bin Ma�az, converted by the Prophet, i. 352 Ayyaz, Kazi, his works, i. 106, n. Ayyub, Abu, the Ansari, ii. 408 The Bayt Ayyub, his descendants, 408 Ayyub, well of, at Al-Madinah, i. 360 Azan, or summons to prayer, i. 76; i. 363 Azbakiyah, of Cairo, i. 81 Drained and planted by Mohammed Ali, 81, n. Azhar, Al-, Mosque, at Cairo, i. 97, l00, et seq. Foundation of, 102 Immense numbers of students at, 102 The course of study pursued in, 103 The principal of the Afghan College, Shaykh Abd al-Wahab ibn Yunus al-Sulaymani, 130-131 Azrail, the angel of death, i. 302, 365 Azrak, Bahr al-, remarks on the usual translation of the expression, i. 381, n. BAB, gates of the Mosque of Meccah, ii. 314 Bab al-Atakhah, �gate of deliverance,� at Al-Madinah, i. 332, n. [p.423] Bab al-Jabr, or Gate of Repairing, i. 333, n. Bab al-Nasr, the gate of Cairo so called, i. 143 Tombs outside the, 335, n. Bab al-Nisa, at Al-Madinah, i. 332 Bab al-Rahmah, or Gate of Pity, at Al-Madinah, i. 332 Bab al-Salam, anciently called the Bab al-Atakah, i. 332 Bab Jibrail, or Gate of the Archangel Gabriel, i. 333 Bab Majidi, or Gate of the Sultan Abd al-Majid, at Al-Madinah, i. 332 Babel or Babylon, settled by the family of Noah, i. 343 Badanjan (egg plant), i. 404 Bad-masti, or liquor-vice, ii. 272 Baghdad, i. 266, n. Quarrel between the Baghdad Caravan and that from Damascus, ii. 128 Baghlah (corrupted to Bungalow), i. 178 Bayt al-Ansari, at Al-Madinah, ii. 1 The Bayt Abu Jud, 1 The Bayt al-Sha�ab, 1 The Bayt al-Karrani, 1 Bayt al-Ma�amur, ii. 320 Bayt al-Nabi (the Prophet�s old house) at Meccah, ii. 251 Bayt Ullah, or House of Allah at Meccah, i. 306 See Ka�abah. Bakhshish, meaning of, i. 8, n. In the deserts of Arabia, 247, 248; 406 The odious sound for ever present in Egypt, i. 189 Always refused by Englishmen, 189 Bakia, Al-, cemetery of at Al-Madinah, i. 278, n., 286, 323, n., 327 Prayers for the souls of the blessed who rest in, 328 Visitation of the, ii. 31 Graves of the Ashab and Sayyids at, 32 Foundation of the place by the Prophet, 32 Description of a funeral at, 33 The martyrs of, 37 Tombs of the wives and daughters of the Prophet at, 38 The beggars of, 38 Benediction of, 42 The other celebrities of, 43-44, n. Belal, his Mosque at Al-Manakhah, i. 395 Balsam of Meccah, used in the cure of wounds, i. 389 See Gilead, Balm of Bamiyah, an esculent hibiscus, i. 404 Banca tin, i. 180 Baras, the kind of leprosy so called. See Leprosy Barbers, Eastern, their skill, i. 289, n. Barr, Al-, at Madinah, i. 289, 297 Barsim, or Egyptian clover, i. 404 Bartema, reference to, i. 326 n. His account of the colony of Jews existing in Arabia, 346 n. Adventures of, ii. 333 Basalt (Hajar Jahannam, or hell-stone), ii. 74 Bashi Buzuks, irregular troops at Cairo, i. 157 Bashat al-Askar, or commander of the forces of the Caravan, ii. 72 Bashir Agha college, at Al-Madinah, ii. 24 Basrah, a den of thieves, how reformed, i. 258, n. Bastarah, i. 29 Bathing in cold water, Arab dislike to, i. 173 The bath in the Hart Zawaran of Al-Madinah, i. 392 Batn Arnah, near Mount Arafat, ii. 187 Batn al-Muhassir (Basin of the Troubler) at Muna, ii. 181 Battalin, the lowest order of the Eunuchs of the Tomb, i. 372 [p.424] Batul, Al-, or the Virgin, term applied to the Lady Fatimah, i. 328, n. Bawwabin, one of the orders of the Eunuchs of the Tomb, i. 372 Bazar, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Bayazi schismatics, ii. 6 Bayonet, use of, not learnt in the English army, i. 269, n. The most formidable of offensive weapons, 269, n. Bayruha, Bir al-, at Kuba, i. 414, n. �Beauty-masks,� in vogue at Meccah, ii. 233 Badawin, i. 142, 144 Observations on the modern Sinaitic or Tawarah race of, 146, et seq. Enumeration of the chief clans of, 146 Ethnographical peculiarities of, 146 Improvement in, 147 How manageable in the Desert, 148 The city Arab, 153 Arab dislike to bathing in cold water; 173 Arab food, 211 Description of a Shaykh fully equipped for travelling, 234 Dress of the poorer class of Arabs, 237 Their songs in the Desert, 242 The Aulad Ali, 112, n. Badawi robbers, mode of proceeding of, 127 Awed only by the Albanian irregulars, 133 Habits, 142, 144 Their songs, 144 Their tobacco-pipes, 144, n. Remarks on the modern Sinaitic clans, 145 Purity of blood of the Muzaynah, 145 Their peculiar qualities, 146 Their love of the oasis, 149, n. How treated by the city Arab, 152 A Badawi ambuscade, 156 Their food, 182, n. The wreckers of the coasts of the Red Sea, 205 Their bad character at Marsa Damghah, 213 Those of the coasts of the Red Sea, 218 The camel Badawin of Arabia, 230 The Hazimi tribe �out,� 231 The black mail levied by them on stranger travellers, 233, n. Their suspicion of persons sketching, 240, n. Badawi woman leading sheep and goats, 246 Character of the tribe of Benu-Harb, 247 Their pride, 247 The Benu Bu Ali tribe defeated by Sir L. Smith, 248, n. Their ingenuity in distinguishing between localities the most similar, 251 Quarrel with, 256. The Sumayat and Mahamid, sub-families of the Hamidah, 256 The Benu Amr, 257 Attempt to levy black mail, 261 Their defeat of Tussun Bey in 1811, 262 Fight between them and the Albanian troops, 269, 273 Their method of treating wounds, 271, n. Their attack on the Caravan, 273 Graves of the Benu Salim, or Salmah, 274, n. Shape of the graves, 274 Their contempt for mules and asses, 304 Their preservation of the use of old and disputed words, 377, n. Their appearance in the Damascus Caravan, 418 n. The Benu Hosayn at Al-Madinah, ii. 4 The Benu Ali at the Awali, 4, 5 Almost all the Badawin of Al-Madinah are of the Shafe�i school, 6 Their idea of the degradation of labour, 9 Furious fight between the Hawazim and the Hawamid, 29 Practice of entrusting children to their care that they may be hardened by the discipline of the Desert, 36, n. Their fondness for robbing a Hajji, 385 The Sobh tribe inveterate plunderers, ii. 58 Their only ideas of distance, 63, n. Their difficulty of bearing thirst, 69 Account of the Badawin of Al-Hijaz, 76, et seq. The three races, 76 The indigens, or autochthones, 77 Their similarity to the indigens of India, 77, n. The advenæ, 78 The Ishmaelites, 78 Mixture of the Himyaritic and Amalikah tribes, 79 Immutability of race [p.425] in the Desert, 79 Portrait of the Hijazi Badawin, 80 Their features, complexion, &c., 80, 82 Their stature, 83 Their systematic intermarriage, 84 Appearance of the women, 85 Manners of the Badawin, 85 Their true character, 86 How Arab society is bound together, 86, 87 Fitful and uncertain valour of the Badawin, 87 Causes of their bravery, 88 The two things which tend to soften their ferocity, 89 Tenderness and pathos of the old Arab poets, 93 Heroisms of the women, 94 Badawi platonic affection, 94 Arab chivalry, 95 Dakhl, or protection, among them, 97 Their poetic feeling, 98 Effect of Arab poetry, in the Desert 98, 99 Brigandage honourable among the Badawin, 101 The price of blood among them, 103 Intensity of their passions, 103 Their sports, 103 Their weapons, 105 Their sword-play, 106 Their music and musical instruments, 107 Their surgery, 108 Their religion, 109 Their ceremonies, 110 Circumcision, 110 Marriage, 111 Funeral rites, 111 Methods of living on terms of friendship with them, 112 Their bond of salt, 112 Their government, 113 The threefold kind of relationship among the tribes: the Ashab, the Kiman, and the Akhawat, 113 Black mail, 114 Their dress, 115 Their food, 116 Smoking, 118 The Badawin compared with the North American Indians, 118-119 Superiority of the former, 119 Enumeration of the principal branches of the Badawi genealogical tree, 119-123 n. Ferocity of the Utaybah Badawin, 144. Their visit to the House of Allah, 168 Their graves at Mount Ohod, i. 430 Their disgust when in towns, ii. 179n. Their appearance in the Damascus Caravan on the Arafat plain, 181 Their cleanliness compared with the dirt of the citizen Arabs, 190 Their fondness for the song of Maysunah, 190, n. Their wild dances and songs, 223 A pert donkey-boy, 262 �Badr,� the scene of the Prophet�s principal military exploits, i. 225, 260 Badr, reference to the battle of, i. 274 n. Beef, considered unwholesome by the Arabs, ii. 17 Beggars in the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 312 Female beggars near the tomb of the Lady Fatimah, 328 At the tomb of the Prophet, 331 Strong muster of, at Al-Bakia, ii. 38 Bekkah, or place of crowding, Meccah so called, ii. 215, n. Belal, the Prophet�s mu�ezzin, i. 234; ii. 1, n. Bells, origin and symbolical meaning of, i. 79, n. Baluchi, nomads, the, i. 246 n. Benu-Harb, the Arab tribe, i. 247 Their pride, 248 Sub-families and families of the, 256 Their defeat of Tussun Bey and his 8,000 Turks, 262 Benu-Israel, Dr. Wilson�s observations on, i. 147, n. Benu Jahaynah, i. 24 Benu Kalb, i. 214, 248 Benjamin of Tudela, his accounts of the Jewish colony in Arabia, ii. 346, n. Bequests (Aukaf) left to the Prophet�s Mosque, ii. 374 Berberis, characteristics of the, i. 62, 63, 202 Bertolucci, M., his visit to Meccah, i. 5, n. Beybars, Al-Zahir, Sultan of Egypt, his contribution to the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 368 [p.426] [�]Bida�ah,� or custom unknown at the time of the Prophet, i. 371, n. Bir Abbas, in Al-Hijaz, i. 264 Bir al-Aris, the, in the garden of Kuba, i. 412 Called also the Bir al-Taflat (of Saliva), 413 Bir al-Hindi, the halting place, i. 274 Bir Said (Sa�id�s well), i. 251 Bilious complaints common in Arabia, i. 387 Birds, of the palm-groves of Al-Madinah, ii. 399 Carrion birds on the road between Al-Madinah and Meccah, ii. 62 The Rakham and Ukab, 62 Vicinage of the kite and crow to the dwellings of man, 72 Birkah, Al-, the village so called, i. 29 Birkat, Al- (the Tank), description of, ii. 136 Birni, Al-, the date so called, i. 401 The grape so termed, 404 Bissel, battle of, ii. 89 Bizr al-Kutn (cotton seed), used a[s] remedy in dysentery, i. 389 Blackmail, levied by the Badawin, i. 233, n., 265; ii. 114 Black Stone (Hajar al-Aswad), the famous, of the Ka�abah, ii. 302, 321 Traditions respecting the, 303, n. Its position, 302 Its appearance, 303 Ceremonies on visiting it, 168 Blessing the Prophet, efficacy of the act of, i. 313, n. The idea borrowed from a more ancient faith, 313, n. Blood-revenge, i. 235 Blood-feud, proper use of the, i. 259 Its importance in Arab society, ii. 87 The price of blood, 103 Buas, battle of, between the Aus and Kharaj tribes, i. 349; ii. 59, n. Bokhari, Al-, celebrated divine, i. 106, n. Books, Moslem, those read in schools in Egypt, i. 105 Works on Moslem divinity, 105, et seq. Books on logic and rhetoric, 108, n. Algebra, 108, n. History and philosophy, 108, n. Poetry, 108, n. Abundance of books at Al-Madinah, ii. 24 Borneo, pilgrims from, to Meccah, i. 179 Botany of the Arabian Desert, ii. 137 Bouda, the Abyssinian malady so called, ii. 175, n. Brahui nomads, i. 246, n. Bravado, its effect in Arabia, ii. 264 Bread in Arabia, i. 245 That called Kakh, 245 Fondness of Orientals for stale unleavened bread, 245, n. Breakfast, an Arab, i. 298 �Breeding-in,� question of, ii. 84 Brigandage, held in honour among the Badawin, ii. 101 Britain, probable origin of the name, ii. 239, n. Bughaz, or defile, where Tussun Bey was defeated, i. 262, n. Bukht al-Nasr (Nebuchadnezzar), invasion of, i. 347 Bulak, the suburb of, i. 31 �Bulak Independent,� the, i. 109, n. Buraydat al-Aslami, escorts Mohammed to Al-Madinah, i. 354 Burckhardt, his grave near Cairo, i. 84, n. Error in his Map of Arabia, 253 Reference to his �Travels,� i. 286, n. His account of the curtain round the Prophet�s tomb, 321, n. Extracts from his descriptions of the Bayt Ullah, ii. 294, et seq. [p.427] Burial-places in the East and in Europe, ii. 183 Burma, or renegade, derivation of the word, i. 23 Burnus, i. 193 Burton, Lieut., what induced him to make a pilgrimage, i. 1 His principal objects, 3 Embarks at Southampton, 5 His Oriental �impedimenta,� 5 His eventless voyage, 6 Trafalgar, 7 Gibaltar, 7 Malta, 7 Lands at Alexandria, 8 Successfully disguises himself, 11 Supposed by the servants to be an �Ajami, 11 Secures the assistance of a Shaykh, 11 Visits Al-Nahl and the venerable localities of Alexandria, 11 His qualifications as a fakir, magician, and doctor, 12 Assumes the character of a wandering Darwaysh as being the safest disguise, 13 Adopts the name of Shaykh Abdullah, 14 Elevated to the position of a Murshid, 14 Leaves Alexandria, 16 His adventures in search of a passport, 19 Reasons for assuming the disguise, 22 His wardrobe and outfit, 23 Leaves Alexandria, 28 Voyage up the Nile, 29 Arrives at Bulak, 31 Lodges with Miyan Khudabakhsh Namdar, 35 Life in the Wakalah of Egypt, 41 Makes the acquaintance of Haji Wali, 43 Becomes an Afghan, 45 Interposes for Haji Wali, 48 Engages a Berberi as a servant, 62 Takes a Shaykh, or teacher, Shaykh Mohammed al-Attar, 67 The Ramazan, 74 Visits the �Consul-General� at Cairo, 86 Pleasant acquaintances at Cairo, 122 Account of the pilgrim�s companion, Mohammed al-Busyani, 123 Lays in stores for the journey, 125 The letter of credit, 126 Meets with difficulties respecting the passport, 127 Interview with the Persian Consul, 129 Obtains a passport through the intervention of the chief of the Afghan college, 131 An adventure with an Albanian captain of irregulars, 132, et seq. Departure from Cairo found necessary, 140 A display of respectability, 141 Shaykh Nassar, the Badawi, 141 Hasty departure from Cairo, 142 The Desert, 144, et seq. The midnight halt, 154 Resumes the march, 154 Rests among a party of Maghrabi pilgrims, 156 Adventure on entering Suez, 159 An uncomfortable night, 159 Interview with the governor of Suez, 160 Description of the pilgrim�s fellow-travellers at Suez, 161, et seq. Advantages of making a loan, 165 Suspicion awakened by a sextant, 166 Passports a source of trouble, 168 Kindness of Mr. West, 169 Preparations for the voyage from Suez, 172 Society at the George Inn, 172 The pilgrim-ship, 186 A battle with the Maghrabis, 191 Leaves Suez, 194 Course of the vessel, 195 Halts near the Hammam Bluffs, 197 The �Golden Wire� aground, 200 Re-embarkation, 201 Reaches Tur, 201 Visits Moses� Hot Baths, 203 Leaves Tur, 207 Effects of a thirty-six hours� sail, 209 Makes Damghah anchorage, 213 Enters Wijh Harbour, 214 Sails for Jabal Hassani, 217 Nearly wrecked, 219 Makes Jabal Hassani, 220 Wounds his foot, 221 The halt at Yambu�, 225 Bargains for camels, 230 An evening party at Yambu�, 232 Personates an Arab, 234 His Hamail or pocket Koran, 239 Departure from Yambu�, 241 The Desert, 242 The halting-ground, 244 Resumes the march, 244 Alarm of [p.428] �Harami� or thieves, 249 Reaches Bir Sa�id, 251 Encamps at Al-Hamra, 253 Visits the village, 254 A comfortless day there, 255 Attempt of the Badawin to levy blackmail, 261 Encamps at Bir Abbas, 264 A forced halt, 271 Prepares to mount and march, 272 Scene in the Shuab al-Hajj, 273 Arrives at Shuhada, 274 The favourite halting-place, Bir al-Hindi, 274 Reaches Suwaykah, 275 Has a final dispute with Sa�ad the Demon, 276 Disappearance of the camel-men, 277 First view of the city of Al-Madinah, 279 Poetical exclamations and enthusiasm of the pilgrims, 280 Stays at the house of Shaykh Hamid, 288 The visitors and children there, 291 The style of living at Al-Madinah, 296 View from the majlis� windows, 297 Visits the Prophet�s tomb, 304 Expensiveness of the visit, 331 Reasons for doubting that the Prophet�s remains are deposited in the Hijrah, 339. Visits the Mosque of Kuba, 398 Sums spent in sightseeing, 411 His �Kayf� at Al-Kuba, 412 Arrival of the �Damascus pilgrimage� at Al-Madinah, 416 The visitation of Ohod, 419 Attends at the Harim in the evening, 433 Visits the cemetery of Al-Bakia, ii. 31 Prepares to leave Al-Madinah, 51 Adieus, 54 The last night at Al-Madinah, 55 The next dangers, 57 The march from Al-Madinah, 59 The first halt, 59 A gloomy pass, 61 Journey from Al-Suwayrkiyah to Meccah, 124 A small feast, 127 A night journey, 132 An attack of the Utaybah, 143 The pilgrim sights Meccah, 152 His first visit to the House of Allah, 160 His uncomfortable lodging, 171 Returns to the Ka�abah, 172 Ceremonies of the day of Arafat, 192 et seq.; and of the Day of Victims, 202 Accident at the Great Devil, 204 Revisits the Ka�abah, 206 The sacrifices at Muna, 217 The sermon at the Harim, 225 Life at Meccah, and the Little Pilgrimage, 227 The pilgrim�s contemplated resolution to destroy the slave trade, 252 Description of a dinner at Meccah, 256 Leaves Meccah, 260 Events on the road, 261, et seq. Enters Jeddah, 265 End of the pilgrim�s peregrinations, 276 Busat, Bir al-, at Kuba, i., 414, n. Business, style of doing, in the East, i. 27 Bassorah, i. 266, n. Butter, clarified (Samn in Arabia, the Indian ghi), used in the East, i. 182, 245 Fondness of Orientals for, ii. 11 Buza�at, Bir al-, at Kuba, i. 414, n. CAGLIOSTRO, Count (Guiseppe Balsamo), the impostor, his settlement of Greeks at Al-Madinah, i. 292; ii. 25 Cain, his burial-place under Jabal Shamsan, ii. 160, n. Cairo, its celebrated latticed windows, i. 35 Medical practitioners in, 54 Expenses of a bachelor in, 65 A Cairo druggist described, 67 The Abbasiyah palace, 78 Scene from the Mosque of Mohammed Ali by moonlight, 84 A stroll in the city at night, 88 Immense number of Mosques at, 96 Once celebrated [p.429] for its libraries, 101, n. Fanatic Shaykhs of, 113, n. The corporations, or secret societies of, 113 Description of the festival following the Ramazan, 115 The �New Year Calls� at Cairo, 117. Meaning of the name Cairo, 117 The Pressgang in, 117 The inhabitants panic-stricken at the rumours of a conspiracy, 118 Scenes before the police magistrate, 119 Vulgar arabesques on the tombs outside the Bab al-Nasr, 335, n. Gardens in the Mosques of, 337 Magician of, 388, n. Cambay, Gulf of, i. 212 Camel-grass of the Desert, i. 252 Camels, remarks on riding, i. 142 The �nakh,� 152 n. The Shaykh or agent of (the Mukharrij), 230 His duties, 230, n. Loading camels in Arabia, 234 The mas�hab, or stick for guiding, 237 The Arab assertion that the feet of the camel are pained when standing still, 241, n. Mounting a camel, 241 Travelling in Indian file, 243 Pace at which camels travel, 244, n. Method of camel-stealing in Arabia, 250, n. The celebrated camels from Nijd, i. 266, n. Camel-travelling compared with dromedary-travelling, 281 The she-camel which guided Mohammed, 354, 355, 360 Carthartic qualities of camels� milk, 390 The huge white Syrian dromedary, 418 The Dalul, 418 The Nakah, 418, n. The camels of Al-Madinah, ii. 16 Camel hiring at Al-Madinah, 32 Camel�s sure-footedness, 68 A night-journey with, in the Desert, 132 Specimens of the language used to camels, 133, n. Mode of sacrificing camels, 217, n. Canaanites, identified with the Amalik of the Moslems, i. 343, n. Canal, the proposed, between Pelusium and Suez, i. 143 Capparis, the wild, in Arabia, ii. 72 Caramania, i. 191 Caravan, i. 249 The escort, 249 The Tayyarah, or flying Caravan, ii. 50 The Rakb, or dromedary Caravan, 50 Principal officers of the Caravan to Meccah, ii. 71 Caravanserai, of Egypt. See Wakalah Caste in India, observations on, i. 36, n. Castor-plant, i. 403 Cathedrals, of Spain, proofs of their Oriental origin, i. 307, n. The four largest in the world, 364, n. Catherine, St., convent of, on the shores of the Red Sea, i. 202, n. Cattle, breeding of, among the Badawin, ii. 107 Cautery, the actual, used in cases of dysentery, i. 389 And for the cure of ulcers, 390 Cavalry, Albanian irregular, i. 266 English cavalry tactics defective, 268 Reference to Captain Nolan�s work, 268 Ancient and modern cavalry, 268 The Chasseurs de Vincennes, 269 Cave, of Mount Ohod, i. 423 Celibacy in the East, pernicious effects of, ii. 79, n. Cemetery of Al-Bakia. See Bakia Cemetery of Meccah (Jannat al-Ma�ala), visit to the, ii. 248 Cephren, pyramid of, i. 30 Cereals, of the Madinah plain, i. 404 �Chains, Affair of,� (Zat al-Salasil), ii. 89 [p.430] Chaldæans, in Arabia, ii. 77 Charity, water distributed in, i. 6 Chasseurs de Vincennes, i. 269 Chaunting the Koran, i. 106 Cheops, pyramid of, i. 30 Children of the Arabs, i. 292 Their bad behaviour and bad language, 292 Causes of this, 292, n. Children entrusted to Badawin, ii. 89 Chivalry, Arab, ii. 92 Songs of Antar, 95 Chivalry of the Caliph Al-Mu�tasim, 96 Chob-Chini. See Jin-seng Cholera Morbus in Al-Hijaz. See Rih al-Asfar Christ, personal suffering of, denied by all Moslems, i. 326, n. Christians, colony of, on the shores of the Red Sea, i. 202 Civilisation, the earliest, always took place in a fertile valley, with a navigable river, i. 344 n. Circumambulation. See Tawaf Circumcision, ceremony of, ii. 19 Among the Badawin, ii. 110 The two kinds, Taharah and Salkh, 110. Method of proceeding, 110, n. Cleopatra�s Baths, i. 10 Cleopatra�s Needle, i. 10 Called Pharaoh�s packing-needle by the native Ciceroni, 10, n. Cleopatra, her introduction of Balm of Gilead into Egypt, ii. 148, n. Coffee-house, description of an Eastern, i. 215 Good quality of the coffee drunk at Al-Madinah, i. 290 Filthiness of that of Egypt, 290, n. The �Kishr� of Al-Yaman, 291, n. The coffee-houses of Al-Madinah, 392 Coffee-drinking on the march, ii. 63 The coffee-houses at Muna, 222 Coffee-houses on the road near Meccah, 261 Cole, Mr. Charles, Vice-Consul at Jeddah, his account of the population of the principal towns of Arabia, i. 393, n. His straightforwardness and honesty of purpose, ii. 267 His letter on the trade of Jeddah, 268, n. Colleges (Madrasah), the two, of Al-Madinah, ii. 24 Colligation, system of, in battle, ii. 89. The �Affair of Chains� (Zat al-Salasil), 89, n. Coloquintida, its growth in the Deserts of Arabia, ii. 137 Used as a medicine by the Arabs, 137, n. Comet, apprehensions of the Madani at the appearance of one, ii. 29 Commerce, of Suez, i. 179 Communist principles of Mazdak the Persian, ii. 3, n. Consular dragoman, a great abuse in the East, i. 128, n. Instances of the evils caused by the tribe, 128, n. Hanna Massara, 128, n. Remedies proposed, 128, n. Consular abuses, 129 Conversation, specimen of Oriental, i. 87 Coptic Christians, good arithmeticians, i. 108, n. Coptic artists employed on the Mosque of Al-Madinah, i. 365 Probably half-caste Arabs, ii. 78, n. Coral reefs of the Red Sea. i. 218 Corinthians, fair, not any at Al-Madinah, ii. 19 Those of Jeddah, ii. 270 Cosmetic, Badawi, ii. 81, n. [p.431] Cot, column of the, in the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 336 Cotton seed (Bizr al-Kutn), used as a remedy in dysentery, i. 389 Courtship, Abyssinian style of, i. 59 Covetousness of the Arab, its intensity, ii. 103 Cressets (Mashals), of the East, ii. 132 The Pasha�s cressets, 132, n. Cressy, reference to the battle of, i. 267, n. Crown of Thorns, i. 405, n. Curtain, of the Prophet�s tomb, i. 321 DABISTAN al-Mazahib, i. 344, n. Daggers of the Badawin, ii. 106 Dajjal, Al- (Antichrist), the Moslem belief respecting, i. 378, n. Dakhl, or protection, among the Arabs, ii. 97 Dakkat al-Aghawat, or eunuch�s bench, at Al-Madinah, i. 316, n. Dakruri, Al-, the shrine of the saint, i. 155 Damascus, cathedral of, i. 364 Its eminence among Moslem cities, ii. 133, n. Epithets applied to it, 133, n. Sayings of the Prophet respecting, 133, n. Said to be the burial place of Abel, 160, n. Damascus Caravan, i. 321, n. Brocade of Damascus, 322, n. Rejoicing at Al-Madinah on the arrival of the Caravan, 334 Description of the arrival of at Al-Madinah, 416 The Emir al-Hajj, 420 Number of pilgrims in the, 334 Quarrel between it and that from Baghdad, ii. 128 Stopped in a perilous pass, 143 Grand spectacle afforded by the, on the plain of Arafat, 181 Damghah, Marsa, on the Red Sea, i. 213 Dancing of the Badawin, its wildness, ii. 223 Daniyal, al-Nabi (Daniel the Prophet), tomb of, i. 12 Dar al-Bayda, the viceroy�s palace in the Desert, i. 154 Daraj, Al- (the ladder), at the Ka�abah, ii. 311 Darb al-Sharki, or Eastern road, from Al-Madinah to Meccah, ii. 58 Darb Sultani (the Sultan�s road), i. 260; ii. 58 Dates, the delicious, of Tur, i. 204 Those of the hypæthral court of the Prophet�s Mosque, 337 The date �Al-Sayhani,� 337 The date-groves of Kuba, 381 The fruit of Nijd, 383 The Tamr al-Birni kind used as a diet in small-pox, 385 Celebrity of the dates of Al-Madinah, 400 Varieties of the date-tree, 400 Al-Shelebi date, 400 The Ajwah, 401 Al-Hilwah, 401 Al-Birni, 401 The Washi, 401 The Sayhani, 401 The Khuzayriyah, 401 The Jabali, 401 The Laun, 401 The Hilayah, 402 Fondness of the Madani for dates, 402 Rutab, or wet dates, 402 Variety of ways of cooking the fruit, 402 The merry-makings at the fruit gatherings, 403 Causes of the excellence of the dates of Al-Madinah, 403 The date-trees of Kuba, ii. 338 Da�ud Pasha, his palace at Al-Madinah, i. 394 Daughters of the Prophets, tombs of the, ii. 38 Daurak, or earthern jars, used for cooling the holy water of Zemzem, ii. 310 David, King, i. 212 Darwayshes, wandering, i. 13 A Darwaysh�s the safest disguise, 14 The two orders of Darwayshes, 15 Death, easy in the East, ii. 183 [p.432] Death-wail, of Oriental women, i. 118 Deir, i. 189 Deraiyah, the capital of the Wahhabis, i. 369 Deri dialect, said to be spoken by the Almighty, i. 344, n. Descendants of the Prophet, one of the five orders of pensioners at Al-Madinah, i. 375 Desert, the Great, by moonlight, i. 85 Camel riding in, 143, 148 Reflected heat of, 144, n. Habits and manners of the Badawi camel-men, 146 Peculiarities by which inhabitants of the Desert may be recognised, 146, n. Feeling awakened by a voyage through the Desert, 148 The oases, 149 Unaptly compared to a sandy sea, 150, n. The pleasures of the Desert, 150 Effect of the different seasons in the Desert, 151, n. Pleasures of smoking in the, 152 A midnight halt in the, 154 The absinthe (�Wormwood of Pontus�) of the, 155 Rest under the shade of the mimosa tree, 155 Perfect safety of the Suez road across the, 156 A Badawi ambuscade, 156 Charms of the Desert, 158 The Desert near Yambu�, 242 Fears of the travellers in crossing, 244 Breakfast in the, 244 Dinner in the, 245 Hot winds in the Deserts of Arabia, 247 Desert valleys, 252 Fatal results from taking strong drinks in the Desert during summer heats, 265, n. Discipline of the Desert, ii. 36, n. Effect of Arab poetry in the, 99 Description of an Arabian Desert, 223 Devil, the Great (Shaytan al-Kabir), ceremony of throwing stones at, ii. 204 Second visit to the, 219 Dews in Arabia, i. 245 D�Herbelot, reference to, i. 281, n. Dickson, Dr., his discovery of the chronothermal practice of physic, i. 13 Dictionaries and vocabularies, Egyptian, imperfections of, i. 108, n. Dinner, description of one at Meccah, ii. 256 Discipline, Oriental, must be based on fear, i. 212 Diseases of Al-Hijaz, i. 384 The Rih al-Asfar, or cholera morbus, 384 The Taun, or plague, 384 The Judari, or small-pox, 384 Inoculation, 385 Diseases divided by Orientals into hot, cold, and temperate, 385 Ophthalmia, 385 Quotidian and tertian fevers (Hummah Salis), 386 Low fevers (Hummah), 387 Jaundice and bilious complaints, 387 Dysenteries, 388 Popular medical treatment, 389 The Filaria Medinensis (Farantit), 389 Vena in the legs, 389 Hydrophobia, 389 Leprosy (Al-Baras), 389 Ulcers, 390 Divination, Oriental, i. 12 Divinity, study of, in Egypt, i. 105 The Sharh, 105 Books read by students in, 105, n. Divorces, frequency of, among the Badawin, ii. 111 Diwan, luxury of the, i. 295 Diwani, value of the Hijazi coin so called, ii. 11, n. Doctors. See Medicine Dogs, pugnacity of, of Al-Madinah, i. 301 Superstitions respecting them, 302 Donkey boys of Egypt, i. 111, n. Donkeys, despised by the Badawin, i. 304 [p.433] Dragoman, consular. See Consular dragoman Dress, Oriental; gold ornaments forbidden to be worn by the Moslem law, i. 34, n., 236, n. Fashions of young Egyptians, 99 Faults of Moslem ladies� dressing, 123, n. Dress of the Maghrabis, 156 The face-veil of Moslem ladies, 229 The Lisam of Constantinople, 229, n. The Lisam of Arab Shaykhs, 235 Description of an Arab Shaykh fully equipped for travelling, 235 The Kamis, or cotton shirt, 236 The Aba, or camel�s hair cloak, 236 The Arab and Indian sandal, 236 Dress of the poorer classes of Arabs, 237 The belt for carrying arms, 238 Dress of the Benu-Harb, 248 The Kufiyah, 265, n. Costume of the Arab Shaykhs of the Harbis, 266 Dress of Madinite Shaykh, 289 Articles of dress of city Arabs, 289, n. Dress of a Zair, or visitor to the sepulchre of the Prophet, 309 n. Dress of the Benu-Hosayn, ii. 4 Costume of the Madani, 14 Dress of the Badawin, 115 The ceremony of Al-Ihram (or assuming the pilgrim dress) on approaching Meccah, 139 Costume of the regions lying west of the Red Sea, 139 The style of dress called Taylasan, 226 Drinking bout with an Albanian, i. 153 Drinking water, Oriental method of, i. 6 Drinks, intoxicating, not known to the Badawin, ii. 118 Dromedaries, sums charged for the hire of, i. 141 Dromedary-travelling compared with camel-travelling, i. 281 Dromedaries of Al-Madinah, ii. 16 Druze mysteries, foundation of, i. 97 Dry storms of Arabia, i. 247 Dua, the, or supplication after the two-bow prayers, i. 312, n. Dubajet, Aubert, i. 112. n. Dust storms, ii. 129 Dye used for the beard, ii. 14 Dysentery, frequent occurrence of, in the fruit season in Arabia, i. 388 Popular treatment of, 389 Dwellings of the Arabs in the time of Mohammed, i. 357 EARNEST money (arbun), ii. 52 Ebna, the descendants of the soldiers of Anushirwan, ii. 78, n. Echinus, the, common in the Red Sea, i. 221, n. Eddeh, Al-, the dress in the baths at Cairo, ii. 139 Education, Moslem, i. 185, et seq. Remarks on Mr. Bowring�s strictures on, 109 Egypt, curiosity of the police, i. 2 Alexandria, 8, 10 Egypt�s first step in civilisation, 17 Inconveniences of the passport system of, 18 Officials of, 19 Her progress during the last half-century, 28 The Nile, 29 The Barrage bridge, 30 The Wakalahs or inns of, 41 The tobacco of, 64 Shortness of the lives of the natives of Lower Egypt, 69 The worst part of the day in, 77 All Agapemones suppressed in, 81 Fashions of young Egyptians, 99 Subjects taught in Egyptian schools, 103, et seq. Theology in Egypt, 106 State of learning not purely religious, 107, et seq. Degenerate state of modern Egyptian taste in poetry, 108, n. Acquirements of the Egyptians in the exact sciences, 108, n. And in natural [p.434] science, 108 Their capabilities for being good linguists, 180, n. Their knowledge of the higher branches of language, 108, n. State of periodical literature in Egypt, 109, n. Bigotry of the Egyptians, 110 Their feelings at the prospect of the present Russian war, 111 Their views respecting various nations of foreigners, 111 Their longings for European rule, 111 Their hatred of a timid tyranny, 112 An instance of this, 112, n. The proposed ship canal and railway in, 113 Importance of, to the rulers of India, 113 Secret societies of, 113 Press-gangs in, 117 Employment of Albanian Irregulars in, 133 Semi-religious tradition of the superiority of Osmanlis over Egyptians, 147, n. Story respecting this, 148 Seasons of severe drought, 180 Diseases of the country, 181 Food of the Suezians, 182 Reason of the superiority in the field of Egyptian soldiers, 184 Insolence of demeanour and coarseness of language of the officials in Egypt, 194, n. Ruinous state of Al-Hijaz, the effect of the wars between the Egyptians and the Wahhabis, 254, n. Bad quality of the coffee of, 290, n. The scourge of ophthalmia, 385, n. The pot-bellied children of the banks of the Nile, 406, n. Their monopoly of milk, curds, and butter, at Al-Madinah, ii. 9 �Elephant, affair of the,� ii. 321, n. Embracing, Oriental mode of, i. 287 Emir al-Hajj, of the Damascus Caravan, ii. 420 His privileges, 420 Abu Bakr the first Emir al-Hajj, 420, n. English, how regarded in Egypt, i. 111 Fable in Arabia, respecting their desire to become Moslems, ii. 230 Eothen, reference to, i. 388, n. Epithets, Arab, i. 277, n., 305, 327 The epithets applied to Al-Madinah, 377 Applied to the Syrians, ii. 133 And to Damascus, 133, n. Era, Moslem, commencement of, i. 355, n. Erythræan Sea, i. 196, n. Escayrac de Lanture, M., his preparations for a pilgrimage to Meccah, i. 4, n. Esmah, Sultanah, sister of Sultan Mahmud, i. 371 Etiquette in Al-Hijaz, i. 419, n. Eunuchs of the Prophet�s tomb, i. 316, n., 321, n., 322, n., 371, n. Antiquity of eunuchs, 371, n. Originated with Semiramis, 371, n. Employment of, unknown at the time of the Prophet, 371, n. Considerations which gave rise to the employment of, 371, n. Method of addressing them, 371, n. Value of the title of Eunuch of the Tomb, 371, n. Shaykh of the Eunuchs, 371 The three orders of Eunuchs of the Tomb, 371 The curious and exceptional character of the eunuch, 372 His personal appearance 372 Value of eunuch slaves at Al-Madinah, ii. 13 Eunuchs of the Mosque at Meccah, ii. 319 Respect paid to a eunuch at Meccah, 255 Euphorbiæ, in Arabia, ii. 72 Eve�s tomb, near Jeddah, ii. 273 Traditions respecting it, 275 Ezion-Geber, i. 189 FACE-GASHING in Meccah, ii. 234 In other countries, 234, n. Fadak, town of, founded by the Jews, i. 347 [p.435] Faddah, value of the Egyptian, ii. 11, n. Fahd, Shaykh, the robber-chief, i. 257 Fa-hian quoted, ii. 276 Fairies, good and bad, origin of, i. 314 Fakihs, at the Mosque at Al-Madinah, i. 316 Falconry, among the Arabs, ii. 104 Origin of the sport, 104, n. Its perfection as a science in the 12th century, 104 Farainah (Pharaohs), origin of, according to the Moslem writers, i. 344 Faraj Yusuf, the merchant of Jeddah, i. 47 Farantit. [See] Filaria Medinensis Farrash (tent-pitchers, &c.), ii. 71 Farrashin, or free servants of the Mosque, i. 372 �Farsh al-Hajar,� of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 332 Faruk, the Separator, a title of the Caliph Omar, i. 320 Farz, or obligatory prayers, i. 311, n. Fasts, Moslems�, i. 76 Fath, the Masjid al- (of Victory), ii. 48 Fatihah, i. 194, 200 Repeated at the tomb of the Prophet, 319 Said for friends or relations, 319, n. Fatimah, the Lady, her tomb at Al-Madinah, i. 308, n. Gate of, 315 Prayer repeated at her tomb, 327 Epithets applied to her, 327, n. The doctrine of her perpetual virginity, 327, n. Her garden in the Mosque of the Prophet, 337 Three places lay claim to be her burial-place, 339 Mosque of, at Kuba, 411 Her tomb, ii. 42 Obscurity of tradition respecting her last resting-place, 42, n. Her birth-place, 251 Fatimah bin As�ad, mother of Ali, her tomb, ii. 43, n. Fattumah, i. 174 Fatur (breakfast), i. 79 Fayruz, the murderer of Omar, i. 435 Fayruzabadi, his Kamus, or Lexicon, i. 108, n., ii. 98, n. Fazikh, the Masjid al- (of Date-liquor), ii. 45 �Fealty of the Steep, the First,� i. 352 �The Second Fealty of the Steep,� 352 �Great Fealty of the Steep,� 353 Festivals, following the Ramazan, i. 115, 116 Scene of jollity at the cemetery outside the Bab al-Nasr, 116 Feuds between the Desert and the City Arabs, ii. 18 Fevers, quotidian and tertian (Hummah Salis), in Arabia, i. 386 Remedies for, 389 Fiends, summoning of, favourite Egyptian pursuit, i. 109, n. Fijl, (radishes), i. 404 Fikh (divinity), study of, in schools, i. 104 Filaria Medinensis (Farantit), not now common at Al-Madinah, i. 389 Finati, Giovanni, Hajji Mohammed, his pilgrimage, i. 199, n., 262, ii. 390 Sketch of his adventures, 390, et seq. Fire-worship introduced into Arabia from India, ii. 160, n. Agni, the Indian fire-god, 160, n. Fiumaras, of Arabia, i. 3 The Fiumara �Al-Sayh,� i. 399 That of Mount Ohod, 424 Flight (the), of Mohammed, i. 354, 355, n. [p.436] Flowers of Arabia, i. 251 Of India, 251 Of Persia, 251 Food of the Badawin, ii. 116 Their endurance of hunger, 116 Method of cooking locusts, 117 Their favourite food on journeys, 117 Forskal, i. 218 Forster, Rev. C., strictures on his attack on Gibbon, ii. 76, n. Fortress of Al-Madinah, i. 393 Forts of the East, a specimen of, i. 157 Fountain, the public (Sabil), of Al-Madinah, i. 391 French, their popularity in Egypt, i. 111 Causes of this, 111 Friday sermon, of the Prophet, i. 335 Fruit trees, of Al-Madinah, i. 400 Fugitives, pillar of, in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 335 Fukahs, or poor divines, of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 375 Fukayyir, Bir al-, at Kuba, i. 414, n. Funerals, Arab, ii. 23 Description of a burial at Al-Bakia, 32 Funeral ceremonies of the Badawin, ii. 111 GABRIEL the Archangel. [See] Jibrail Gabriel�s Gate (Bab Jibrail), i. 333 Gabriel�s place (Makan Jibrail), in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 336 Gabriel the Archangel, his communications to the Prophet, i. 360, 361, 363 Galla slave girls, their value, ii. 13 Gallantry of Orientals, i. 210 Ungallantry of some �Overlands,� 210 Gambling not in existence among the Badawin, ii. 107 Gara tribe of Arabs, i. 145. Low development of the indigens of, ii. 77 Garden of our Lady Fatimah, in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 337 Date trees of, 337 Venerable palms of, 337 Gardens not uncommon in Mosques, 337 Garlic and onions, use of, in the East, i. 32, n. Gates of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Geesh, Lord of, i. 8 Genealogy of the Arabs, intricacy of the subject, ii. 119, n. The best known Arabic genealogical works, 119, n. Generalisation unknown to the Arabs, i. 250, n. Geographical Society (Royal) of London; its zeal for discovery, i. 1. Geography among the modern Egyptians, i. 108, n., 250 Geology of the neighbourhood of Al-Madinah, i. 279 Of the road between Al-Madinah and Meccah, ii. 73 Geomancy, favourite Egyptian pursuit of, i. 158, n. Geometry, study of, in Egypt, i. 158, n. George Inn, at Suez, i. 159 Society at the, 161, 173 Ghabbah, Al-, or the watershed of Al-Madinah, i. 381 Ghadir, Al-, description of the plan of, ii. 134 The three wells of the Caliph Harun at, 134 Ghalib, the late Sharif of Meccah, revered as a saint, i. 340, n. Purchases the treasures of the Prophet�s tomb from Sa�ad the Wahhabi, 369 Ghaliyah, her heroism, ii. 94 Ghazi, or a crusader, i. 329, n. [p.437] Ghazi (twenty-two piastres), paid to the free servants of the Mosque, i.372 Ghi, of India, ii. 12 Considered by Indians almost as a panacea for diseases and wounds, 12, n. Ghul (Devil), how expelled from persons suffering from hydrophobia, i. 389 Ghul, the hill near Meccah, ii. 147 Ghurbal, Bir al-, at Kuba, i. 414, n. Ghuri, Al-, the Sultan, his additions to the Ka�abah, ii. 307 Ghuzat, or crusaders, i. 329, n. Giants (Jahabirah), who fought against Israel, i. 344 Gibbon, his derivation of the name Saracens, ii. 76, n. The Rev. C. Forster�s Attack on him, 76, n. Gibraltar, i. 7 Gilead, Balm of, grows as a weed in Al-Hijaz, ii. 148 Name by which it is known to the Arabs, 148, n. Its value in the valley of the Jordan, 148, n. Introduced by Cleopatra into Egypt, 148, n. Places where the best balsam is produced, 149, n. Qualities of the best kind, 149, n. Description of the tree, 149 Goat, the milk of, ii. 17, n. The flesh of, 17, n. Gold ornaments, forbidden by the Moslem law to be worn, i. 34, n.; 236 �Golden Wire,� the pilgrim-ship, i. 188 Its wretched state, 188 Ali Murad, the owner, 189 The passengers, 189 Riot on board, 191 Halt near the Hammam Bluffs, 197 Runs aground, 200 Goose (Sand-), the, i. 154 Gospel of Infancy, quotation from, ii. 148, n. Grammar, how taught in Egyptian schools, i. 104 Prosody among the Arabs, 107 Granites (Suwan), of the plains of Arabia, ii. 74 Of Meccah, 295, n. Grapes of Al-Madinah, ii. 404 The Sharifi grape, 404 The Hijazi, 404 The Sawadi, or black grape, 404 The Raziki, or small white grape, 404 Gratitude, no Eastern word for, i. 51 Graves, shape of, of the Badawin, i. 274. Injunctions of Mohammed to his followers to visit, 314, n. At Mount Ohod, 430 Musannam, or raised graves, 430 Musattah, or level graves, 430 The graves of the saints at Al-Bakia, ii. 32 Greek Emperor, his presents to the Mosque of Al-Madinah, i. 365 Greeks, hated in Egypt, i. 111 Those settled on the Red Sea, 202 Those in Al-Madinah, 292 Guebres, fable of, respecting man�s good works, 313, n. Their ancient fire-temples in Arabia and Persia, 379, n. Their claim to the Ka�abah, ii. 301 Fire worship introduced from India, 160, n. Guest-dish, ii. 12 �Gugglets,� for cooling water, i. 399 Gunpowder play (La�ab al-Barut) of the Arabs, ii. 86 Guns sounding the order of the march, ii. 71 The guns of the Badawin, 105 Gypsum, tufaceous, in the Desert, ii. 134 HABASH (Abyssinia), i. 177 [p.438] Haddah, Al-, the settlement so called, ii. 202 Hadis (the traditions of the Prophet), study of, in schools, i. 104, 305 Hæmorrhoids, frequency of, in Al-Hijaz, i. 389 Treatment of, 389 Hagar, her tomb at Meccah, ii. 305, n. Hajar al-Akhzar, or green stone, of the Ka�abah, ii. 305, n. Hajar al-Aswad (Black Stone), the famous, of the Ka�abah, ii. 300 (See Black Stone) Hajar Shumaysi (yellow sandstone) of Meccah, ii. 295, n. Haji Wali, i. 43, 44 His advice to the pilgrim, 44, 45 His lawsuit, 46 His visit to the �Consul-General� at Cairo, 86 Accompanies the author in paying visits, 116 Introduces the pilgrim to the Persian Consul, 128 His horror at a drinking bout, 137 Takes leave of the pilgrim, 142 Hajin, the Egyptian she-dromedary, i. 418, n. Hajj (pilgrimage), difference between the, and the Ziyarat, i. 305 The Hajj (or simple pilgrimage), ii. 281 Hajj al-Akbar (the great pilgrimage), 281 Hajj bin Akhtah, plots against Mohammed, i. 358 Hajj al-Shami (the Damascus pilgrimage), i. 416 Hajjaj bin Yusuf, general of Abd al-Malik, ordered to rebuild the House of Allah, ii. 324 Hajjat al-Farz (obligatory pilgrimage), ii. 280 The Hajjat al-Islam (the pilgrimage of the Mohammedan faith), 280 Hakim, Al-, bi �Amri�llah, his attempt to steal the bodies of the Prophet and his two companions, i. 367 Hakim, Al-, the Sultan of Egypt, i. 97 �Halal,� to, a sheep, i. 256 Halimah (the Lady), the Badawi wet-nurse of the Prophet, her tomb, i. 328, n., ii. 36 Halliwell, Mr., his mistake respecting the �Methone� of Sir John Mandeville, ii. 286 Hamail, or pocket Koran, of pilgrims, i. 239 Hamid al-Samman, Shaykh, description of, i. 162, 200 Lands at Yambu�, 225 Vaunts the strong walls of Yambu�, 242 Leaves Yambu�, 242 Halal of a sheep in the desert, 256 His fear of the Badawin, 261 His determination to push through the nest of robbers, 271 Takes his place in the Caravan, 272 Arrives at Al-Madinah, 281 His toilet after the journey, 288 His hospitality to the pilgrim, 288 Improvement in his manners, 290 Behaviour of his children, 292 His real politeness, 294 Description of his abode, 295 His household, 296 Accompanies the pilgrim to the Prophet�s tomb, 304 Introduces the pilgrim to the Prophet�s window, 321 Accompanies him to the Mosque of Kuba, 398 And to Mount Ohod, 419, et seq. And to the cemetery of Al-Bakia, ii. 31 et seq. Procures a faithful camel-man for the journey to Meccah, 51 His debt forgiven, 56 Hamidah, the principal family of the Benu-Harb, i. 257 Their attack on the Caravan, 273 Hammam, or the hot bath, i. 70 Hamra, Al-, i. 249 Derivations of its name, 253 Called also Al-Wasitah, 253 Encamped at, 253 Description of the village of, 254 The fortress of, 255 [p.439] Hamra, Al-, the third station from Al-Madinah in the Darb Sultani, i. 260 Hamra, Al-, the torrent, i. 278, n. Hamzah, friend of Mohammed, prayer in honour of, i. 328 Sent forward by the Prophet to Al-Madinah, 354 Mosque of, 426 The place where he was slain, 433 Hanafi school, their views respecting the proper dress for visiting the Prophet�s tomb, i. 309, n. Their place of prayer at, i. 310 Mufti of, at Al-Madinah, 373 Their practice of nighting at Muzdalifah, ii. 201 Hanafi sect, its station for prayer at the Ka�abah, ii. 308 Its importance in Meccah, 309, n. Hanbali school, i. 373 Its station for prayer at the Ka�abah, ii. 308 Hands, clapping of (Safk), practice of in the East, ii. 223 Hanna Massara, the Consular Dragoman of Cairo, i. 128, n. Haramayn, or sanctuaries, the two of Al-Islam, i. 230, n.; i. 304 �Harami,� or thieves, in the Desert, i. 261 Harb, the Benu, the present ruling tribe in the Holy Land, ii. 119 Its divisions and sub-divisions, 119 et n. Harbis, of Al-Hijaz, i. 266 Harim, (or Sanctuary), the Prophet�s, at Al-Madinah, i. 298, 305, 307 The Shaykh al-, or principal officer of the Mosque, 371 The Mudir al-, or chief treasurer of the Tomb of the Prophet, 371 The Huddud al-Harim, 379 All Muharramat or sins forbidden within the, 379, n. Dignity of the Harim, 380, n. See Ka�abah Harim, of a Madinite, i. 298 Harim, arrangements of the, ii. 91 Its resemblance to a European home, 91 Hariri, Al-, poem of, i. 108, n. Harrah, or ridges of rock, i. 251; 251, n. Al-Harratayn, 279, n. Harrah, or ridge, as represented in our popular works, i. 341 Meaning of the term, i. 421, n. The second and third Harrahs, 421, n., 424 The Prophet�s prediction at the Harrah Al-Wakin or Al-Zahrah, 421, n. �The affair of the Ridge,� 421, n. Harun, the Kubbat, or Aaron�s tomb, on Mount Ohod, i. 423 Harun al-Rashid. His three wells at Al-Ghadir, ii. 70, 134 His pilgrimages and crusades, 136 Harun Bir (well of Harun), ii. 70 Hasan, grandson of Mohammed, i. 97, n. Prayers for, 327 His descendants at Al-Madinah, ii. 3, n. His tomb, 40 Burckhardt�s mistakes respecting him, 40, n. His death by poison 40, n. Hasan al-Marabit, Shaykh, tomb of, on the shore of the Red Sea, i. 218 Hasanayn Mosque, at Cairo, i. 97 Hasan the Imam, requests to be buried near the Prophet, i. 325 Hasan, Sultan, Mosque of, at Cairo, i. 98 Hasan, Jabal (Mount Hasan), i. 220 Hashim, great grandfather of the Prophet, i. 351, n. Hashish, smoking i. 44 Haswah, or gravelled place, i. 307 Hatchadur Nury, Mr., his friendship with the author, i. 122 [p.440] Hatim, the generous Arab chieftain, i. 166 Hatim, Al- (the broken), of the Ka�abah, ii. 305 Hawamid Arabs. Their fight with the Hawazim, ii. 28 Hawazim Arabs, their furious fight with the Hawamid, ii. 28 Their Shaykhs, Abbas and Abu Ali, ii. 28 �Haye� in military tactics, i. 267, n. Haykal! Ya (sons of Haykal), explained, i. 30, n. Hazirah, or presence, i. 316 Hazramaut, the Arabs of, i. 240, n. Hazrat Ali, apparition of, ii. 184 Heat, the reflected, at Yambu�, ii. 232 The hot wind of the Desert, 247, 264 Sun-strokes, 265, n. The great heats near the Red Sea prejudicial to animal generation, 265, n. The hour at which the sun is most dangerous, i. 275 Terrible heat at Al-Hijaz, ii. 221 Unbearable at Meccah, 228 Heathenry, remnants of, in Arabia, i. 4 Hebrew, points of resemblance between, and Pahlavi, ii, 79, n. Heliopolis, Balm of Gilead of, ii. 148, n. Hemp-drinkers, Egyptian, ii. 189, 191 Henna powder, i. 400, n. Herklots, Dr., reference to his work �Qanoon-i-Islam,� i. 388, n. Quoted, ii. 304, n. Hermaic books, the, i. 385, n. �Herse,� in military tactics, i. 267 n. Hijaz, Al-, dangers and difficulties of, i. 2 Antiquity and nobility of the Muzaynah tribe in, 145, 146 Land route to, from Suez, 158 Persecution of Persians in, 232, n. The Badawi blackmail in, 233, n. Description of the shugduf or litter of, 233, n. Abounds in ruins, 254 Sa�ad the robber chief of, 256 Shaykh Fahd, the robber chief, 257 Wretched state of the government in, 257, 258 The charter of Gulhanah, 258 The Darb Sultani, 260 Heat in Al-Hijaz, 265 Douceurs given by the Turks to the Arab shaykhs of, 266 �Al-Shark,� 266, n. Fight between the Arabs and soldiers in, 269 Peopled by the soldiers of the children of Israel, 347 Limits of, 379 Meaning of the name, 380 Rainy season in, 383 Diseases of, 384 Number of the Turkish forces in, 393, n. Account of the Badawin of, ii. 76, et seq. (See Badawin) Money of, 111, n. Observations on the watershed of, 154 Purity of the water throughout, 194 Healthiness of the people of, 229 Hijazi, the grape so called, i. 404 Hijriyah, Al-, halt at, ii. 71 Hilayah, the date so called, i. 401 Hilwah, Al-, the date so called, i. 402 Himyaritic tribes, their mixture with the Amalikah, ii. 79 Hinda, mother of Mu�awiyah, her ferocity, i. 433, n. Her name of �Akkalat al-Akbad,� 433, n. Hindi, Jabal, at Meccah, ii. 153 �Hindu-Kush,� the, i. 243, n. Hindus, their square temples similar in form to the Mosque, ii. 300, n. Their litholatry, 301, n. The Ka�abah claimed as a sacred place by them, 301, n. [p.441] History (Tawarikh), study of, little valued in Egypt, i. 107, n. Hitman tribe of Arabs, the lowness of their origin, ii. 121 Unchastity of their women, 121 Hogg, Sir James, i. 1 Holofernes, general of Nebuchadnezzar I., i. 347, n. Honey, the Arabs curious in, and fond of, ii. 130, n. The different kinds of honey, 130, n. Honorarium (ikram), given to the Madani who travel, ii. 7 �Horde,� probable origin of the word, i. 394, n. Horses, Arabian, i. 3 The celebrated, of Nijd, i. 266, n., ii. 195 Horses of the Arnaut Irregulars, i. 267 Pugnacity of the, of Al-Madinah, 301 The, of Al-Madinah, ii. 16 Price of horses in time of Solomon, 195, n. Egyptian horses, 195, n. Qualities of a pure Arab horse, 195, n. The former horse trade of Yaman, 195, n. The breed supplied to India, 196, n. Hosayn, Al-, grandson of Mohammed, i. 98, n. His death at Kerbela, ii. 40, n. His head preserved in the Mosque Al-Hasanayn at Cairo, ii. 40, n. Hosayn, Benu, become guardians of the Prophet�s tomb, i. 368, ii. 3, n. Head-quarters of the, at Suwayrkiyah, 3 Their former numbers and power, 3 Their heretical tenets, 3 Their personal appearance, 4 Their town of Al-Suwayrkiyah, 124 Hosayn bin Numayr, his siege of Meccah, ii. 323 Hosh, Al-, or the central area of a dwelling-house, i. 307, 397 Hosh ibn Sa�ad, at Madinah, the residence of the Benu Hosayn, ii. 4 Hospitality in the East, i. 36 House hire in Egypt, i. 42, 65 Houses of the Arabs at the time of Mohammed, 356 Those of Al-Madinah, 393 Those at Meccah, description of, ii. 171 Hudud al-Hatim, or limits of the sanctuary, i. 379 Hufrah (holes dug for water in the sand) ii. 62 Hufrah, Al- (the digging), of the Ka�abah, ii. 304, n. Hujjaj, or pilgrims, i. 329 Hujrah, or Chamber of Ayishah, description of, i. 314 Errors of Burckhardt and M. Caussin, respecting the word, 314, n. Its walls rebuilt, 324, n. Referred to, 325-329 Surrounded by a mud wall by the Caliph Omar, 363 Enclosed within the Mosque by Al-Walid, 366 Spared from destruction by lightning, 368 Hukama, or Rationalists, of Al-Islam, ii. 201 Hummum Bluffs (Hammam Faraun), i. 197 Hummi tobacco, i. 66, n. Hurayrah, Abu, his account of the Benu Israel in Arabia, i. 346 Hydrophobia, rarity of, in Al-Hijaz, i. 388 Popular superstition respecting, 388 Treatment of, 388 Hyksos, the, identified with the Amalik of the Moslems, i. 343, n. �Hypocrites,� conspiracy of the, i. 358 IAMBIA, of Ptolemy, i. 225 Ibn Asm, or Ibn Rumi, slain, i. 94 His sister, 94 Ibn Batutah, reference to, i. 12 n., 265, n. Ibn Dhaher Berkouk, King of Egypt, rebuilds the Mosque at Meccah, ii. 296 [p.442] Ibn Haukal, reference to, i. 4, n., 17, n. Ibn Hufazah al-Sahmi, his tomb, ii. 43, n. Ibn Jubayr, reference to, i. 279, n. Ibn Kasim, his commentary, i. 106 Ibn Zubayr, chief of Meccah, rebuilds the Ka�abah, ii. 299 Ibrahim, catafalque of, in the great Mosque of Meccah, i. 324, n. Ibrahim, the Makam, at the Ka�abah, ii. 307, n., 311, 325 Ibrahim, infant son of the Prophet, his burial-place, ii. 32, 37 Ibrahim Pasha, his ships on the Red Sea, i. 170 Ibrahim bin Adham, his vision, ii. 184, n. Ichthyophagi, the modern, of the Red Sea, i. 218, n., 221 Idrisi, Al-, i. 195 Ignatius, Epistles of, to the Smyrneans, references to, i. 326, n. Ihlal, the pilgrim dress so called, ii. 205 Ihn, Bir, at Kuba, i. 414, n. Ihram, Al- (assuming the pilgrim garb), the ceremony so called, ii. 138 Change from Ihram to Ihlal, 205 Ceremonies of, 284 The Victims of Al-Ihram, 286 Ijabah, the Masjid al- (the Mosque of Granting), ii. 47, 153, n. Ikamah, or call to divine service, ii. 311, n. Ikhlas, Al-, the chapter of the Koran, i. 429 Ihram (honorarium) given to the Madani who travel, i. 263, ii. 7 The four kinds of, 7 Ilal, Jabal (Mount of Wrestling in Prayer). See Arafat, Mount Ilfrad, Al- (singulation), the pilgrimage so called, ii. 280 Imans, of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 313, n., 374, 375 Place where they pray, i. 335, 338 Imlik, great-great-grandson of Noah, the ancestor of the Amalikah, ii. 321 Immigrations of the Arabian people, i. 344 India, style of doing business in, i. 27 Observations on caste in, 36, n. Real character of the natives of, 37-40 Popular feeling in, respecting British rule, and causes of this, 37, n. No European should serve an Eastern lord, 39 The natives a cowardly and slavish people, 40 Their cowardice compared with the bravery of the North American Indians, 40 Testimony of Sir Henry Elliot to this, 40, n. An instance of Indian improvidence, 157, n. Luxuriance of the plains of, 251 Indian pilgrims protected by their poverty, 265 The Duke of Wellington�s dictum about the means of preserving health in, 265, n. Wells of the Indians in Arabia, 274 n. Their sinful method of visiting the Prophet�s tomb, 305 Generosity of Indian pilgrims, 331, n. Their drawings of the holy shrines as published at Meccah, 342 Dress and customs of the Indian women settled at Al-Madinah, ii. 6 Recklessness of poor Indian pilgrims, ii. 184 Remedies, proposed, 185 Qualities of the horses of, obtained from the Persian Gulf, 195, n. Profuseness of Indian pilgrims, 210 Indian Ocean (Sea of Oman), the shores of, when first peopled, according to Moslem accounts, i. 344, n. Inns. See Wakalah Inoculation practised in Al-Madinah, i. 384 [p.443] �Inshallah bukra� (please God, to-morrow), ii. 21 Intermarriages, theory of the degeneracy which follows, ii. 84 Dr. Howe�s remarks on, 84, n. Intonation and chaunting of the Koran taught in Moslem schools, i. 106, n. Irak, Al-, expedition of Tobba al-Asghar against, i. 349 Iram, flood of, i. 348 Ireland, probable origin of its name, ii. 239, n. Irk al-Zabyat, mountain, ii. 274, n. Isa bin Maryam, reference to, ii. 274, n. Spare tomb at Al-Madinah for him after his second coming, 325 Isha, or Moslem night prayer, i. 233 Ishmael (Ismail), his tomb at Meccah, ii. 305 The two-bow prayer over the grave of, 176 Ishmaelites, of the Sinaitic peninsula, ii. 78 Their distinguishing marks, 78 Ismail Pasha murdered by Malik Nimr, chief of Shendy, i. 138, n. Ismid, a pigment for the eyes, i. 381, n. Israel Benu, rule of, in Arabia, i. 345 See Jews Israelites, course of the, across the Red Sea, i. 199 Israfil, the trumpet of, on the last day, i. 340, n. Istikharah, or divination, ii. 23 Italians, how regarded in Egypt, i. 111 Izar, the portion of a pilgrim�s dress so called, ii. 139 JA AL-SHARIFAH, the halting-ground, ii. 63 Ja�afar al-Sadik, the Imam, his tomb, ii. 40, 41, n. Ja�afar Bey (governor of Suez), i. 147 Account of him, 160 Jababirah (giants), who fought against Israel, i. 344 Jabariti, from Habash, i. 177 Jahaydah, a straggling line of villages, i. 262 Jama, meaning of, i. 97 Jama Taylun, mosque, i. 96 Jama�at, or public prayers, in Al-Rauzah, i. 330, n. Jami al-Sakhrah, at Arafat, ii. 192 Jami Ghamamah at Al-Manakhah, i. 395 Jannat al-Ma�ala (the cemetery of Meccah), visit to, ii. 248 Jauf, Al-, excellence of the dates of, i. 383 Jauhar, founder of the Mosque of Al-Azhar, i. 102 Jaundice, common in Arabia, i. 387 Popular cure for, 387 Java, number of Moslem pilgrims from, to Meccah, i. 179 Javelin, (Mizrak), description of the Arab, i. 237 Jazb al-Kulub ila Diyar al-Mahbub, the work so called, ii. 358, n. Jabal, observations on the word, i. 220, n. Jabali, the date so called, i. 401 Jeddah, slave trade at, i. 47 Price of perjury at, 47 Value of the exports from Suez to, 178 Jews settled in, 346, n. Population of, 393, n. Unsuccessful attempt of the Wahhabis to storm it, ii. 265, n. Considered by the Meccans to be a perfect Gibraltar, 265 The Wakalah of Jeddah, 266 The British Vice-Consul, Mr. Cole, 266 Different descriptions of the town, 267, 268 The fair Corinthians at, 270 How the time passes at Jeddah, 272 [p.444] Jahaymah, tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Jamal, Amm, his advice to the pilgrim, i. 233 Reproved for his curiosity, 243 Jamal al-Din of Isfahan, his improvements of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 366, n. Janabah, low development of the indigens of, ii. 77 Janazah, Darb al- (Road of Biers), at Al-Madinah, i. 395 �Jangli,� an opprobrious name applied to the English rulers of India, i. 36 Jarid, or palm-sticks, with which the houses of the Arabs were made, i. 357 Jazzar Pasha, i. 263 Jews, former settlements of, in Arabia, i. 345 Entirely extinct at present, 347, n. Take refuge from Nebuchadnezzar in Arabia, 347 Towns founded by them in Arabia, 347 Fall into idolatry, 347 Given over to the Arabs, 347 Their power in Al-Madinah, 350 Their conspiracy against the Prophet, 358 Their expectation of the advent of their Messiah, 358 Jibrail, Mahbat, or place of Gabriel�s Descent, i. 326, 333, n. Jibrail, Makam (Gabriel�s Place), in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 336 Jibrail, Bab al- (Gabriel�s Gate), i. 333 Jinn, the Masjid al- (Mosque of the Genii), at Meccah, ii. 250 Jin-seng, or China root, notice of, i. 56, n. Jiyad, Jabal, the two hills so called, ii. 174 Jizyat, or capitation tax levied on infidels, i. 233, n. Job, tomb of, ii. 275, n. Journey, a day�s length of, ii. 63, n. Jubayr, Ibn, on the position of the tombs of the Prophet and the first two Caliphs, i. 324 Referred to, i. 399, n., ii. 40 Jubayr bin Mutin, his march to Ohod, i. 433 Jubbah, i. 17, n. Judari, Al- (or Small-pox), indigenous to the countries bordering the Red Sea, i. 384 Inoculation practised in Al-Madinah, i. 385 The disease how treated, i. 385 Inoculation in Yaman, i. 385, n. Diet of the patient, i. 385 Jumah, Bab al-, or Friday gate, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 The cemetery of Schismatics near, 395 Jumah, the Masjid al-, near Al-Madinah, ii. 45 Jumma Masjid, of Bijapur, the third largest cathedral in the world, i. 364, n. Jurh al-Yamani (the Yaman ulcer), i. 390 Jurham, the Benu, their mixture with the Himyaritic tribes, ii. 79 Their foundation of the sixth House of Allah, 322 Legend of their origin, 322 Justinian, i. 202, n. KA�AB, the Jewish priest of Al-Madinah, i. 350, n. Ka�ab al-Ahbar (or Akhbar), poems of, i. 107, n., 146 Ka�abah (or Bayt Ullah) i. 305, 321, n. Superstitious reverence of the Jews of Al-Madinah for, 350, n. Miraculously shown to Mohammed by the archangel Gabriel, 361. Times of the opening [p.445] of, ii. 398 Extracts from Burckhardt�s description of, 294 Its dimensions, ii. 294 Its domes and pillars, 294 Its bad workmanship, 295 Periods of opening it, 298 The doors of, 298 The famous Hijar al-Aswad, or Black Stone, 300 The Rukn al-Yamai, 303 Al-Ma�ajan, or place of mixing, 304 The Myzab, or water-spout, 304 The mosaic pavement, 305 Tombs of Hagar and Ishmael, 305 Limits of the Ka�abah, 306 Al-Mataf, or place of circumambulation, 307 The four Makams, or stations for prayer, 307 Zemzem, or the holy well, 307 Al-Darah, or the ladder, 311 Stone on which Abraham stood, 311 The boast that the Ka�abah is never, night nor day, without devotees, 317, n. Legends of the Ten Houses of Allah, 319, et seq. Proofs of the Ka�abah�s sanctity, 325 The pilgrim�s first visit to it, 160 Legend of the Bab Benu Shaybah, 161 Ceremonies of the visit, 162, et seq. Visit of the pilgrim to, 206 Sketch of the interior of the building, 208 Ceremony of opening, in Ibn Jubayr�s time, 209, n. Expenses of visiting, 209 Reasons for all pilgrims not entering, 211 The first covering of the, 212 Changes in the style and make of the Kiswah, or curtain, 213 Inscriptions on the Kiswah, 215 Ka�aka�an, Jabal, the residence of the Benu Jurham, ii. 322 Kabirah, Al-, or lady of the house, ii. 160 Kindness of one to the pilgrim at Meccah, 216 Her affectionate farewell of the pilgrim, 259 Kadiriyah, an order of Darwayshes, i. 14 Kaf, �to go to Kaf,� explained, i. 17, n. Kafr al-Zajyat, i. 30 Kaid-Bey, the Mamluk Sultan of Egypt, i. 313, n. Rebuilds the Mosque of the Prophet, 324, n., 340 �Kayf,� explanation of, i. 9 Sonnini�s description of, 9, n. Kayf on the brink of the well at Al-Kuba, 412 Kairom and its potteries, i. 29 Kalaun, Sultan of Egypt, his improvements of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 366, n. Kalka-shandi, Al-, his testimony respecting the tomb of the Prophet, i. 323 Kamis, or cotton shirt, of Arab Shaykhs, i. 236 Kanat (spears), of the Badawin, ii. 106 Kanisat, or Christian Church, i. 365 Kansuh al-Ghori (Campson Gaury), King of Egypt, i. 202, n. Kara Gyuz, the amusement so called, i. 81 Karashi tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Kasr, Al-, the village of, i. 376, n. Kaswa, Al-, the she-camel of Mohammed the Prophet, i. 354, 360, 407 Kata, or sand-goose, the (Pterocles melanogaster), i. 154 Katibs, or writers of the tomb of the Prophet, i. 371 Katirah race, its mixture with the Himyaritic tribes, ii. 79 Kaukab al-Durri, or constellation of pearls suspended to the curtain round the Prophet�s tomb, i. 322 It[s] apparent worthlessness, 322 Plundered by the Wahhabis, 369 Kawwas, or police officer, of Egypt, i. 20 [p.446] {|Kazi (Cadi), or chief judge of Al-Madinah, i. 373 Customs of the, ii. 87 Kerbela, battle of, ii. 40, n. Khadijah (one of the Prophet�s fifteen wives), her burial-place, ii. 38 Khadim, or guardian, of a Mosque, i. 411 Of the tombs at Al-Bakia, ii. 36 Khakani, the Persian poet, quoted, ii. 162 Khalawiyah tribes of Arabs, despised by the other clans, ii. 121 Khalid Bey, brother of Abdullah bin Sa�ud, his noble qualities, ii. 272 Khalid bin Walid, i. 425 Anecdote of him, ii. 230 Khaluk, a perfume so called, i. 335 Khandak (the moat) celebrated in Arabian history, i.399 Khasafat al-Sultan, of the Mosque at Al-Madinah, i.316, n. Khatan bin Saba, tribe of, i. 340 Khatbys, of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 375 Khatim, Bir al-, or Kuba well, i. 382, n. Khattabi, Al-, his opinions respecting Al-Madinah, i. 379, n. Khatyb, or Moslem preacher, ii. 313 Khaybar, in Arabia, Israelite settlements at, i. 346, 347 The colony entirely extinct, 347, n. Capture of, 361 Its distance from Al-Madinah, ii. 30 Khayf, Al-, i. 262 The Mosque of, at Muna, ii. 179 Khaznadar, the treasurer of the Prophet�s tomb, i. 371 Khazraj, its mixture with the Amalikah, i. 79 Arab tribe of, 347 Its wars with the Aus, 349 Converted by Mohammed, 352 Its plot against Mohammed, 358 Khitbah, or betrothal in Arabia, ii. 23 Khitmahs, or persuals of the Koran on behalf of the reigning Sultan, i. 316, n. Khubziyah, one of the orders of the Eunuchs of the Tomb, i. 371 Khudabakhsh, the Lahore shawl merchant, his profuse pilgrimages, ii. 210, n. Khurunfish, Al-, the manufactory at which the Kiswah is now worked, ii. 215 Khusraw, his work on divinity, �Al Durar,� i. 106 Khutaba, the Shaykh al-, of the Prophet�s mosque, i. 374 Khutbah, or Friday Sermon of the Prophet, i. 335 Khutbat al-Wakfah (�Sermon of the Standing� upon Arafat), ii. 197 Khuzayriyah, the date so called, i. 401 Khwajah Yusuf, his adventures, i. 122 Kiblatayn, the Mosque Al-, foundation of the, ii. 44 Kichhri, the Indian food so called, i. 182, n. ii. 63 Kilis, or Christian Church, of Abrahah of Sana�a, i. 321, n. Kiman, the relationship among the Badawin so called, ii. 313 Kiram al-Katibin (the generous writers), the personifications of man�s good and evil principles, i. 314, n. �Kirsh Hajar,� a sound dollar, so called by the Badawin, i. 370, n. Kisra, goblet and mirror of, i. 365, n. Kissing the hand, ii. 164, n. Kiswah, or �garment� or curtain round the Prophet�s tomb, i. 321, n. Description of a Kiswah, 322, n. Purloining the bits of, ii. 176 Notice of, 215 [p.447] Kiswah, or cover of a saint�s tomb, i. 429 Knight-errantry, Arab, ii. 95 Derivation of the word knight, 95, n. Kohl (antimony), a pigment for the eyes, i. 381, n. Used as a remedy in small-pox, 385 Koran, beautiful penmanship exhibited in some copies of, i. 103, n. Intonation of, taught in Schools, 106 Expositions of, 109 Mode of wearing the pocket Koran, 142 Precepts respecting the profession of belief in the saving faith, 167 Texts of, respecting Moses, Abraham, David, Solomon, and Mohammed, 212, n. The Hamail, or pocket Koran, of pilgrims, 239 The, suspended over the head of the Prophet�s tomb, 322, n. That of the Caliph Osman, 322, n. The Ya-Sin usually committed to memory, 330, n. A curious one kept in the library of the Mosque of the Prophet, 338. n. The Cufic MSS. written by Osman, the fourth Caliph, 368 Koraysh, tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Kotambul, island of, i. 376, n. Kuba, Mosque of, i. 279, n. Gardens of, 285 Receives the Prophet, 355 Date-groves of, 381 The Kuba well, 382, n. Cool shades of Kuba, 403 Description of the village, 406 Its inhabitants, 406 History of its Mosque, 407 Purity of the place and people of Al-Kuba, 410 The Mosque called Masjid al-Takwa, or Mosque of Piety, 411 The Mosque of Sittna Fatimah, 411 That of Arafat, 412 Date trees of, ii. 338 Kubar, or great men of the Mu�ezzini of Al-Madinah, i. 373 Kubbat al-Masra, at Ohod, i. 432 Kubbat al-Sanaya, or Dome of the Front Teeth, at Mount Ohod, i. 430 Kubbat al-Zayt (Dome of Oil), or Kubbat al-Shama (Dome of Candles), in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 337, n. Kulsum bin Hadmah, gives refuge to Mohammed at Kuba, i. 355 Kummayah, Ibn, the infidel, i. 430 Kuraysh, legend of their foundation of the eighth House of Allah, ii. 322 Kurayzah, a tribe of the Benu Israel, i. 349 Kurayzah, town of, founded by the Jews, i. 347 Kurayzah, the Masjid al-, ii. 46 Extermination of the Jewish tribe of Al-Kurayzah, 46 Kurbaj, or �Cat o� Nine Tails,� of Egypt, i. 21 Kus Kusu, the food so called, i. 198 Kusah (scant-bearded man), ii. 14 Kusay bin Kilab, his foundation of the seventh House of Allah, ii. 322 Kuwwat Islam (strength of Islam), the building near Al-Madinah, so called, ii. 49 LA�AB al-Barut (gunpowder play) of the Arabs, ii. 86 Labid, the poet, his description of the rainy seasons of Al-Hijaz, i. 383 His suspended poem, ii. 98 Quoted, 147 Labour, price of, at Al-Madinah, ii. 9 Lance, the Arab. See Javelin Land-cess (Miri), not paid by the Madani, ii. 6 Lane, Mr., reference to, i. 12, n. His discovery of the frauds of the Cairo magician, i. 388, n. Language; difference between the Japhetic and Semitic tongues, ii. 79, n. Resemblance between Pahlavi and Hebrew, 79, n. Traditions [p.448] respecting the origin of Arabic, i. 344 See Arabic language Lapidation (Rajm), punishment for adultery, ii. 19 Diabolical practice of, in Arabia, 180 Antiquity of the custom in token of hate, 282, n. Lapidation (Rami), ceremony of, ii. 203 The second day�s ceremony, 222 Larking, Mr. John, i. 7 Latakia tobacco, i. 65, n. Latrinæ, not allowed in Al-Madinah, i. 65, n. Laun, the date so called, i. 401 Law-suit, a Mohammedan, description of, i. 46 Laymun, Wady, or Al-Mazik, ii. 147 Its celebrity, 147 Legends of the House of Allah, ii. 319, et seq. Lentils (Adas), the diet during an attack of small-pox, i. 385 Their cheapness on the banks of the Nile, 385 Revalenta Arabica, 385, n. Leprosy, the kind called Al-Baras only known in Al-Hijaz, i. 389 Considered incurable, 389 Levick, Henry, Esq., late Vice-Consul at Suez, i. 170 His remarks respecting Suez, 170, et seq. Lex scripta, strictness of everywhere in inverse ratio to that of custom, ii. 87, n. Libraries, decay of, in Cairo, i. 101, n. The library of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 338 The only object of curiosity in it, 338, n. Lift (turnips), i. 404 Light-extinguishers, sect of, ii. 235, n. Lisam, of Constantinople, i. 229, n. The, of the Arab Shaykhs, 235 Literature, periodical, state of, in Egypt, i. 109, n. Litholatry, ii. 300, n. Litter (Shugduf), description of, as used in Al-Hijaz, i. 233, n. The mahmil, or Syrian litter, 234, n. Locusts eaten as food by the Badawin, ii. 117 Method of cooking them, 117 Logic, study of, little valued in Egypt, i. 107, n. Works on logic, 107, n. Lots, pillar of, in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 325, n. �Lotus eaters,� i. 405 Lubabah, Abu, column of, in the Rauzah, i. 325, n., 326, n., 336 Story of him, 336 Lukman the Elder (of the tribe of Ad), i. 348 Lying among Orientals, ii. 211 MA�ABIDAH, AL-, or northern suburb of Meccah, ii. 153 Origin of the name, 153, n. Ma�ajan, Al-, or place of mixing, at the Ka�abah, ii. 304 Its origin, 304, n. Ma�amun, Al-, makes additions to the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 367 Mabrak al-Nakah (place of kneeling of the she-dromedary), at Al-Kuba, i. 410 Madinah, Al-, the first Mosque erected at, i. 91 Its smallness an annoyance to the people of, 94, n. Men of, respected by Badawin robbers, 96, n. First view of the city of, 279 Place [p.449] whence the city is first seen by the pilgrim, 279, n. Poetical explanations and enthusiasm of the pilgrims, 279, 280 Distance of, from the Red Sea to, 281 View of, from the suburbs, at sunrise, 285 The scenery of the neighbourhood, 285 The Ambari gate, 285-287 The Takiyah erected by Mohammed Ali, 285 Fortress of, 286 Its suburb �Al-Manakhah,� 286 �The trees of Al-Madinah,� 286 The Bab al-Misri, or Egyptian gate, 288 Good quality of the coffee of Al-Madinah, 290, n. Coolness of the nights at Al-Madinah, 300 Pugnacity of the horses and dogs of, 301 Account of a visit to the Prophet�s tomb at, 304, 342 Tents of the people of Al-Madinah compared with those of the Meccans, 306 Its Mosque compared with that of Meccah, 307 Ludicrous views of Al-Madinah as printed in our popular works, 341, n. Moslem account of the settlement of Al-Madinah, 343 Destruction of the Jewish power in Al-Madinah, 349 Al-Madinah ever favourable to Mohammed, 351 The Prophet escorted to the city, 354 Joy on his arrival, 356 Tomb of the Prophet, 359 Various fortunes of the city, 359 Present state of the revenue of the holy shrines of, 359 The Prophet builds his Mosque at Al-Madinah, 360 The second Mosque erected by the Caliph Osman, 363 The Masjid erected with magnificence by Al-Walid the Caliph, 364 The second Masjid erected by Al-Mahdi, the Caliph, 367 Additions of Al-Ma�amun, 367 Erection of the fifth and sixth Mosques, 368 Besieged and sacked by the Wahhabis, 369, 370 Almost all the people of, act as Muzawwirs, 374 Epithets of Al-Madinah, 377, n. Its geographical position in Arabia, 379 All Muharramat, or sins, forbidden within it, 379, n. Cause of its prosperity, 380 Manner of providing water at, 381 Its climate, 382, 383 Diseases of, 384, et seq. The three divisions of the city, 391 The gates of the town, 391 The bazar, 391 The walls, 392 The streets, 392 The Wakalahs, 392 The houses, 392 Population, 393, 393, n. The fortress of, 394 The suburbs of Al-Madinah, 395 The Khamsah Masajid, 395 The suburbs to the south of the city, 396 Inhabitants of the suburbs, 397 Celebrity of the dates of Al-Madinah, 400 The weights of Al-Madinah, 402, n. Cereals, vegetables, &c., of the Madinah plain, 404 The fruits of, 404 Arrival of the Damascus Caravan, 416 The �Affair of the Ridge,� 421 Account of the people of Al-Madinah, ii. 1 The present ruling race at Al-Madinah, 5 Privileges of the citizens, 6 Trade and commerce of, 8 Price of labour at, 9 Pride and indolence of the Madani, 9 Dearness of provisions at, 10 Tariff of 1853, 10 The households of the Madani, 12 Their personal appearance, 13 Scarcity of animals at Al-Madinah, 16 The manners of the Madani, 17 Their character, 19 Their marriages and funerals, 20-24 Abundance of books at, 24 The two Madrasah or colleges, 24 The Olema of Al-Madinah, 25 Learning of the Madani not varied, 25 Their language, 26 Their apprehensions at the appearance of a comet, 28 Their cemetery of Al-Bakia, 31 The Mosques in the neighbourhood of the city, 44-48 Vertomannus� description of the city, 338 The four roads leading from Al-Madinah to Meccah, 58 [p.450] Madrasah (or colleges), the two of Al-Madinah, ii. 24 �M�adri,� village of, i. 245, n. Madshuniyah, Al-, the garden of, near Al-Madinah, i. 415 Ma al-Sama, �the water, or the splendour, of heaven,� a matronymic of Amr bin Amin, i. 348 Mafish, meaning of the term, i. 8, n. Maghrabi pilgrims, i. 156, 187 Their treachery, 156 Observations on the word and on words derived from it, 187, n. Habits and manners of the Maghrabis, 190, 191 Their bad character, 191 Frays with them on board, 191, 192 Their dislike to tobacco, 194, n. Their repentance of their misdeeds, 198 Their guttural dialect, 198, n. Their efforts to get the ship off the sand, 201 Return of their surliness, 203 Their desire to do a little fighting for the faith, 206 Effect of a strange place on them, 252, n. Mahamid, a sub-family of the Benu-Harb, i. 256 Mahar, Marsa (Maliar anchorage), i. 220 Mahattah Ghurab (Station of Ravens), halt at, ii. 66 Mahdi, Al-, the Caliph, erects the fourth Mosque of Al-Madinah, i. 367 His additions to the House of Allah, ii. 324 His enlargement of the Mosque at Meccah, 296 Mahjar, or stony ground, ii. 70 Mahmil, the Sultan�s, turned back by robbers in Arabia, i. 257 Its appearance in the Caravan, ii. 65 Place of the Egyptian and Damascus Mahmils during the sermon on Arafat, 194 Mahmud, the late Sultan, his dream, i. 12 Mahmudiyah Canal, i. 29 Barrenness of its shores, i. 29 Mahmudiyah College, at Al-Madinah, ii. 24 Mahr, or sum settled upon the bride before marriage, ii. 23 Average amount of such sums, 23, n. Mahrah, the indigens of, ii. 77 Their low development, 77 Majarr al-Kabsh (Dragging-place of the Ram), notice of, ii. 219 Majidi Riwak, or arcade of the Sultan Abd al-Majid at Al-Madinah, i. 308 Makam Ibrahim, at Meccah, ii. 311 Makam Jibrail (place of Gabriel), at the Ka�abah, ii. 304, n. Makan al-Ayat (place of signs), at the Mosque of Kuba, i. 410 Makams, the four, or stations for prayer, at the Ka�abah, ii. 313 Maksurah, or railing round a cenotaph, i. 314, n. Malabar, Suez trade in the pepper of, i. 179 Malaikah, or the Angels, at Al-Madinah, i. 326 Prayer at the, i. 326 Malakayn, Al- (the two Angels), personifications of the good and evil principles of man�s nature, i. 314, n. Malbus (religious frenzy), a case of, at Meccah, ii. 175 Malik, the Imam, i. 305, n. His followers, 306, 311, n. Few of them in his own city, 373, n. His strictness respecting Al-Madinah, 379, n. School of, reference to, 373, n. Mufti of, at Al-Madinah, 373 Its station for prayer at the Ka�abah, ii. 308 Malik ibn Anas, Imam, his tomb, ii. 38 Malta, i. 7 The Maltese regarded with contempt by Egyptians, 111 [p.451] Mambar, or pulpit of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 310 Origin of, 362 Various forms of, 362, n. The Mosque of Meccah, ii. 313 Manakhah, Al-, the suburb of Al-Madinah, i. 286 The Harat or Quarter, Al-Ambariyah, 288 Omitted in our popular representations of the city, 341 Population of, 393 Mandal, its celebrity in Europe owing to Mr. Lane, i. 12, n., ii. 175 Mandeville, Sir John, his opinion of the Badawin, i. 147 His remarks on the word Saracen, 187, n. Reference to, 286, n. Manners, Oriental, compared with European, i. 6 Manners of Eastern officials, 27 Mansur, the camel-man, i. 262 Bullied by Mohammed Al-Basyuni, i. 277 Marble, white (Rukham), of Meccah, ii. 295, n. March, distance of a, ii. 63, n. The Sariyah on night march, 67 Mareb, dyke of, i. 348 Accounts of its bursting, 348, n. The ruins visited by a late traveller, 348 n. Mariyah, the Coptic girl of Mohammed, house of, i. 362, n. The infant son Ibrahim, ii. 37 Jealousy of Ayishah of her, 47, n. Maryam, Al-Sitt (the Lady Mary), i. 243, 264, 271. Affection of her younger son, 287 Markets of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Marriage, an Armenian, i. 123 An Arab, ii. 23 The Kitbah, or betrothal, 23 The Mahr, or sum settled upon the bride, 23 The marriage ceremony, 23 Martineau, Miss, her strictures on the harim, ii. 91 Martyrs, in Moslem law, not supposed to be dead, i. 339, n. Martyrs of Mount Ohod, i. 328 Of Al-Bakia, 328, n. Visitation to the, of Mount Ohod, 419 Marwah, meaning of the word, ii. 244, n. Ceremonies at, 245, 246 Marwan, Al-, governor of Al-Madinah, i. 381 Removes Osman�s grave-stones, ii. 32 Mas�hab, or stick for guiding camels, i. 237 Mas�ad, the Benu (a Jewish tribe), in Arabia, i. 347, n. Masajid, Khamsah, of the suburb of Al-Madinah, i. 395 Mashali, the Madani children�s bodies marked with, ii. 13 Mashals (lights carried on poles), ii. 132, 382 The Pasha�s mashals 132, n. Mashar al-Harim (place dedicated to Religious Ceremonies), at Muna ii. 181 Mashrabah Umm Ibrahim, the Masjid, ii. 46 Mashrabiyah, or famous carved latticed window of Cairo, i. 35, 99, n. Masjid, a place of prayer, i. 97, n. Masjid al-Jum�ah, i. 356 Maskat, i. 3 Importation of slaves into, ii. 13, n. The ancient Caravan from Maskat to Al-Madinah, 29, n. Masruh tribe of Arabs, ii. 120 Its subdivision, ii. 120 Mastabah, of the shops in Cairo, i. 68 Mastabah, or stone bench before the Mosque of Al Kuba, i. 409 Mastich-smoke, the perfume, i. 298 Arab prejudice against the fumes of gum, i. 298, n. [p.452] Mas�ud, of the Rahlah, engaged for the journey to Meccah, ii. 52, 59, 67, 70 Heavy charges for watering his camels, 129 His dislike of the Shamar, 134 His quarrel with an old Arnaut, 136 His skill in steering. the Desert-craft, 144 His disgust at the dirt of the Meccans, ii. 190 Maula Ali, leader of the Maghrabis, i. 191 Maulid al-Nabi, or the Prophet�s birthplace, ii. 254 Maulid Hamzah, or birthplace of Hamzah, at Meccah, ii. 254 Maundrell, his error respecting the curtain round the Prophet�s tomb, i. 321, n. Mauza al-Khatt (place of writing) at Meccah, ii. 250 Mawali, or clients of the Arabs, ii. 349 Mayda, Al-, or the Table, in the Mosque at Al-Madinah, i. 316, n. Maysunah, the Badawi wife of the Caliph Mu�awiyah, ii. 190 The beautiful song of, 190 Her son Yazid, 191, n. Mazdak, the Persian communist, ii. 3, n. Mazghal (or matras), long loopholes in the walls of Al-Madinah, i. 392 Mazik, Al-. (See Laymun, Wady) Measures of length, Arab, ii. 63 Meccah, remnants of heathenry in, i. 4 Visit of M. Bertolucci to, 5, n. And of Dr. George Wallin, 5, n. �Tawaf,� or circumambulation of the House of Allah at, 305 Its Mosque compared with that of Al-Madinah, 306, 359, n. Pride of the Meccans of their temple, 359, n. A model to the world of Al-Islam, 360 Population of, 393, n. Vertomannus� description of the city, ii. 345 Pitts�s account of, 365, et seq. Finati�s adventures at, 393 The four roads leading from Al-Madinah to Meccah, 58 The Sharif of Meccah, Abd al-Muttalib bin Ghalib, i. 259, ii. 150 The Saniyat Kuda�a, near, 152 The old gates of the city, 152, n. The Sharif�s palace at, 152 The haunted house of the Sharif bin Aun at, 153 The Jana�at al-Ma�ala, or cemetery of Meccah, 153 The Afghan and Syrian quarters, 153 Extracts from Burckhardt�s description of the Bayt Ullah, or Ka�abah, 294, et seq. The gates of the Mosque, 316 Expenses during �season� at Meccah, 317 Description of a house at Meccah, 171 Resemblance of the city to Bath or Florence, 173 Admirable linguistic acquirements of the Meccans, 223 Life at Meccah, 227 The city modern, 229 Character of the Meccans, 232 Immorality of, 233 Appearance of the Meccans, 233 Their �beauty-masks,� 233 Their pride and coarseness, 235 Good points in their character, 237 Dangers of visiting Meccah, 239 Places of pious visitation at Meccah, 247 Medicine, Oriental practice of, i. 12, 13 The chronothermal practice, 13, n. Experiences respecting the medicine-chest, 26 Asiatic and European doctors contrasted, 50 A medical man�s visit in the East, 52 Amount of a doctor�s fee, 53 Asiatic medical treatment, 54 A prescription, 55 Method of securing prescriptions against alteration, 57 Medical practitioners in Cairo, 57 Inefficiency of European treatment in the East, 57 Superstitious influences of climate, 58 Description of a druggist�s shop, 67, 68 [p.453] Meerschaum pipe, i. 144, n. Melancholia, frequent among the Arabs, i. 299, n. Probable cause of it, 299, n. Mihrab al-Nabawi, or place of prayer, i. 310 Origin of, 361, n., 364, n. The Mihrab Sulamanyi of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 310 Milk, laban, both in Arabic and Hebrew, i. 246 Food made by Easterns from milk, 246 Milkseller, an opprobrious and disgraceful term, 246 The milk-balls of the Badawin, ii. 117 The Kurut of Sind and the Kashk of Persia, 117, n. Method of making, 117, n. Mimosa, compared by poetic Arabs to the false friend, i. 276 Minarets, the five, of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 333 Invention of, 334, n. Origin of the minaret, 361, n., 364 The erection of the four, of the Mosque of the Prophet, 366, ii. 318, n. Dangers of looking out from a minaret window, 318, n. Mir of Shiraz, the calligrapher, i. 104, n. Mirba�at al-Bayr, �place of the beast of burden,� in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 336 Mirbad, or place where dates are dried, i. 360 Mirage, ii. 72 Beasts never deceived by, 72 Mirayat (magic mirrors), used for the cure of bilious complaints, i. 387 Antiquity of the Invention, 387, n. The magic mirrors of various countries, 387, n. The Cairo magician, 388, n. Mr. Lane�s discovery, 388, n. Sir Gardner Wilkinson�s remarks respecting, 388, n. Miri, or land-cess, not paid by the Madani, ii. 6 Mirror, the Magic, i. 12 See Mirayat Mirza, meaning of, i. 14, n. Mirza Husayn, �Consul-General� at Cairo, i. 86 Misri, Bab al-, or Egyptian gate, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Misri pomegranates of Al-Madinah, i. 405 Misriyah, the opprobrious term, i. 175 Miyan, or �Sir,� a name applied to Indian Moslems, i. 232 Miyan Khudabakhsh Namdar, the shawl merchant, i. 35 Moat, battle of the, ii. 44, n., 47 Mohammed Abu See Mohammed. His mandate for the destruction of the diseased population of Al-Yaman, i. 390 Mohammed Ali Pasha, his improvements in the Greek quarter of Cairo, i. 81, n. His mosque, 84, 99 His establishment of a newspaper in Egypt, 109, n. His wise regulations for insuring the safety of travelling across the Desert, 136 His expedition to Al-Hijaz, 177 His strong-handed despotism capable of purging Al-Hijaz of its pests, 258 The �Takiyah� erected by him at Al-Madinah, i. 285 Purchases all the Wakf in Egypt, 359, n. His introduction of professed poisoners from Europe, ii. 86, n. His defeat of the Wahhabis at the battle of Bissel, 89, n. Mohammed bin Aun, (quondam prince of Meccah), his palaces, ii. 252, 266 His imprisonment at Constantinople, 253 His history, 253, n. Mohammed at-Attar, the druggist, i. 67 Description of his shop, 67 His manners, 69 His sayings and sarcastic remarks, 71-73 Mohammed al-Bakir, the Imam, tomb of, ii. 40, n. [p.454] Mohammed Al-Basyuni, account of, i. 123 Starts for Suez, 124 Meets the author in the Desert near Suez, 151 His boundless joy, 151 His treatment of the Badawin, 152 His usefulness at Suez, 159 His savoir faire, 160 His joke, 176 Promises to conduct the devotions of the Maghrabis at Meccah, 199 Change in his conduct at Yambu�, 232 His quarrel with the Badawin, 256 And with the Madinites, 271 Bears the brunt of the ill-feeling of the pilgrims, 276 Bullies the camel-men, 277 Downcast and ashamed of himself in his rags at Al-Madinah, 290 Made smart, 294 Confounded by a Persian lady, 303 Distributes the pilgrim�s alms in the Mosque at Al-Madinah, 312 Takes a pride in being profuse, 331 Accompanies the pilgrim to the Mosque of Kuba, 398 His economy at Al-Madinah, 411 His indecorous conduct, 431 His fondness for clarified butter, ii. 12, 67 His adventures in search of water on the march to Meccah, 66 Mounts a camel, 130 But returns tired and hungry, 135 His house at Meccah, 153 His welcome home, 159 Becomes the host of the pilgrim, 159 His introduction of hard words into his prayers, 168 His resolution to be grand, 184 His accident at the Great Devil, 204 Conducts the pilgrim round the Ka�abah, 206 His sneers at his mother, 216 His taunts of Shaykh Nur, 218 Receives a beating at Jeddah, 270 Departs from the pilgrim with coolness, 271 Mohammed Al-Busiri, the Wali of Alexandria, tomb of, i. 12 Mohammed Ibn Abdillah Al-Sannusi, his extensive collection of books, ii. 24 Celebrated as an Alim, or sage, 24, n. His peculiar dogma, 25 Kindness of Abbas Pasha to him, 25, n. His followers and disciples, 25, n. Mohammed Jamal al-Layl, his extensive collection of books, ii. 24 Mohammed Khalifah, keeper of the Mosque of Hamzah, i. 427 Mohammed Kuba, founder of the first Mosque in Al-Islam, i. 91 Mohammed of Abusir, the poet, works of, i. 107, n. Mohammed Shafi�a, his swindlings, i. 46 His lawsuit, 46 Mohammed Shiklibha, i. 165 Mohammed the Prophet, his traditionary works studied in Egypt, i. 106 His cloak, 146 The moon and Al-Burak subjected to, 212 The �Badr,� the scene of his principal military exploits, 260, 274, n. Gives the Shuhada the name of the �Sejasaj,� and prophecies its future honours, 274, n. His attack of Abu Sufiyan, and the Infidels, 275, n. Distant view of his tomb at Al-Madinah, 286 His recommendation of the Kaylulah, or mid-day siesta, 299 Account of a visit to his Mosque at Al-Madinah, 304 A Hadis, or traditional saying of, 305 His tomb, how regarded by the orthodox followers of Al-Malik and the Wahhabis, 306 Al-Rauzah, or the Prophet�s garden, 308 His pulpit at Al-Madinah, 310 Efficacy ascribed to the act of blessing the Prophet, 313 Enjoins his followers to visit graveyards, 314, n. The Shubak al-Nabi, or Prophet�s window, 316 The Prophet, how regarded as an intercessor, 318 His prayers for the conversion of Omar, 320 The Kiswah round his tomb, 321, n. The exact place of the tomb, 322 The Kaukab al-Durri, suspended to the Kiswah, 322 The tomb and coffin, 323 Position of the body, 324 Story of the suspended coffin, 325, n. [p.455] Reasons for doubting that his remains are deposited in the Mosque at Al-Madinah, 339 His ancestors preserved from the Yamanian deluge, 348 Doubts respecting his Ishmaelitic descent, 350, n ii. 76, n. Finds favour at Al-Madinah, i. 351 Tombs of his father and mother, 351, n. Meets his new converts on the steep near Muna, 352 Receives the inspired tidings that Al-Madinah was his predestined asylum, 354 Escorted to Al-Madinah, 354 His she-camel, Al-Kaswa, 354, 355 His halt near the site of the present Masjid al-Juma, 356 Joy on his arrival at Al-Madinah, 356 His stay at the house of Abu Ayyub, 357 Builds dwellings for his family, 357 The conspiracy of the �Hypocrites,� 358 The prophet builds the Mosque, 360 Abode of his wives, family, and principal friends, 363 Place of his death and burial, 363 Attempt to steal his body, 367 His Mosque in the suburb of Al-Manakhah at Al-Madinah, 395 Foundation of the Mosque of Al-Kuba, 407 His �Kayf� on the brink of the well at Al-Kuba, 412 His miraculous authority over animals, vegetables, &c., 422 His battle with Abu Sufiyan on Mount Ohod, 423, 425 Anecdote of the origin of his Benediction of Al-Bakia, ii. 34, n. Tombs of his wives, 38 And of his daughters, 38 Origin of his surname of Al-Amin, the Honest; 323 His tradition concerning the fall of his birth-place, 231 The Prophet�s old house (Bayt al-Nabi) at Meccah, 251 The birth-place of the Prophet, 254 Momiya (mummy), medicinal qualities attributed to, ii. 344 Monday, an auspicious day to Al-Islam, i. 355 Money, the proper method of carrying in the East, i. 25, 25, n. Value of the Turkish paper money in Al-Hijaz, 393, n. Value of the piastre, the Turkish parah, the Egyptian faddah, and the Hijazi diwani, ii. 11, n. Of Al-Hijaz, 111, n. The Sarraf, or money-changer, 235 Monteith, General, i. 1 Moon, the crescent, ii. 71 Moonlight, evil effects of the Arab belief in, i. 154 Moor, derivation of the name, i. 187 Moplah race, foundation of, i. 344, n. Moresby�s Survey, i. 215, n. Mosaic pavement of the Ka�abah, ii. 305 Moses� Wells (Uyun Musa), at Suez, i. 158, n., 195 Visit to the, ii. 203 Hot baths of, 203 His �great tallness,� according to Moslem legends, i. 204 �Moses� Stones,� the bitumen so called, 204, n. His pilgrimage to Meccah, 345 Inters his brother Aaron on Mount Ohod, 346 His tomb, ii. 275, n. �Moskow,� the common name of the Russians in Egypt and in Al-Hijaz, i. 292 Mosque, the origin of, i. 90 Form and plan of, 91, 92 Erection of the first Mosque in Al-Islam, 91 First appearance of the cupola and niche, 92 Varied forms of places of worship, 92 Byzantine combined with Arabesque, 93 Use of colours, 94 Statuary and pictures forbidden in Mosques, 94 The Meccan Mosque a model to the world of Al-Islam, 95 Immense number of Mosques at Cairo, 96 Europeans not excluded from [p.456] Mosques, 96 The Jami Taylun, 96 The Mosque of the Sultan Al-Hakim, 97 The Azhar and Hasanayn Mosques, 97 That of Sultan Hasan, 98 Of Kaid Bey and the other Mamluk Kings, 98 The modern Mosques, 98 That of Sittna Zaynab, 98 Mohammed Ali�s �Folly,� 98 The Al-Azhar Mosque, 100 Mode of entering the sacred building, 100 Details of the Al-Azhar, 100 Scene in it, 101 The Riwaks, 101 The collegiate Mosque of Cairo, 102 Mosque of Al-Shafe�i, 106, n. The Mosques of Suez, 173 The Mosques of Zu�l Halifah, i. 279 Account of a visit to the Prophet�s, 304, 342 The Masjid al-Nabawi, one of the two sanctuaries, 304 The Masjid al-Harim at Meccah, 305 The Masjid al-Aksa at Jerusalem, 305 How to visit the Prophet�s, 305 Ziyarat, or visitation, 305 Points to be avoided in visiting the Prophet�s, 305 Comparison between the Al-Madinah and Meccah Mosques, 306 Description of the Masjid al-Nabi, 307 Burnt by lightning and rebuilt by Kaid Bey, 324, n. The gates of the Mosque, 322, 323 The five minarets of the Mosque, 333 The four porches of the Mosque, 334 The celebrated pillars, 335 The garden of our Lady Fatimah in the hypæthral court, 337 Gardens not uncommon in Mosques, 337 The pilgrim makes a ground-plan of the Prophet�s Mosque, 341, n. The Prophet�s Mosque built, 360 The second Masjid erected by Osman, 363 The Masjid erected with magnificence by the Caliph al-Walid, 365 Various improvements in the, 366 Burnt by fire and by lightning, 366 The fourth Mosque of Al-Madinah erected by the Caliph Al-Mahdi, 367 Additions of Al-Ma�amun, 367 Erection of the fifth and sixth Mosques, 367, 368 The treasures of the tomb stolen by the Wahhabis, 369 The �sacred vessels� repurchased from the Wahhabis, 370 The various officers of the Mosque, 371 The executive and menial establishment of the Prophet�s Mosque, 373 Revenue of the Prophet�s Mosque, 374 Pensioners of the, 375 Description of the Prophet�s Mosque at Al-Manakhah, 395 History of the Mosque of Al-Kuba, 407 The Mosque of Sittna Fatimah at Al-Kuba, 411 The Masjid Arafat at Al-Kuba, 412 Hamzah�s Mosque, 426 The Mosques in the neighbourhood of Al-Madinah, ii. 44-49 The former Masjid al-Ijabah at Meccah, 153 Description of the Mosque at Meccah, 294, et seq. The mosque Al-Khayf at Muna, 180 The Mosque Muzdalifah, 181 The Masjid al-Jinn, 250 Mother-of-pearl, brought from the Red Sea, i. 179 Mothers of the Moslems, (the Prophet�s wives), i. 328, n. �Mountains of Paradise,� i. 222 Mourning forbidden to Moslems, ii. 16 Mourning dress of the women, ii. 16 MSS. �bequeathed to God Almighty,� i. 101, n. Mu�awiyah, Al-, Caliph, i. 258, n. His Badawi wife Maysunah, ii. 190 His son Yazid, 191, n. Muballighs, or clerks of the Mosque, i. 311, n. Mubariz, or single combatant of Arab chivalrous times, i. 302 [p.457] Mudarrisin, or professors, of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 375 Mudir, or chief treasurer, of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 337 Mu�ezzin, i. 78, 84 The Prophet�s, 334 The Ruasa, or chief of the, 334 Mu�ezzins, of Al-Madinah, 373 Reasons for preferring blind men for Mu�ezzins, ii. 318, n. Muftis, the three, of Al-Madinah, i. 373 Muhafiz, or Egyptian governor, i. 19 Muhajirin, or Fugitives, from Meccah, i. 360 Muhallabah, the dish so called, i. 79 Muharramat, or sins, forbidden within the sanctuary of the Prophet, i. 379, n. Mujawirin, or settlers in Al-Madinah, i. 375 Mujrim (the Sinful), the pilgrim�s friendship with him, ii. 29 Mujtaba, Al- (the Accepted), a title of the Prophet, ii. 37, n. Mukabbariyah, of the Mosque, i. 311 Mukuddas, Bayt al- (Jerusalem), prostrations at, i. 408 Mukarinah, Al- (the uniting), the pilgrimage so called, ii. 280 Mukhallak, Al-, the pillar in the Mosque of the Prophet so called, i. 335 Mukattum, Jabal, i. 58 Mules, despised by the Badawin, i. 304 Not to be found at Al-Madinah, ii. 17 Multazem, Al-, the place of prayer in the Ka�abah so called, ii. 299, n. Mulukhiyah (Corchoris olitorus), a mucilaginous spinach, i. 404 Muna, place of meeting of the new converts with the Prophet, i. 353 Sanctity of, ii. 179, 180 Derivation of the name, 180, n. The pebbles thrown at the Devil at, 180, n The Mosque Al-Khayf, 180 Sacrifices at, 217, 218 A storm at, 218 Coffee-houses of, 222 Its pestilential air, 224 Munafikun, or �Hypocrites,� conspiracy of the, i. 358 Munar Bab al-Salam, of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 332 Munar Bab al-Rahmah, 333 The Sulaymaniyah Munar, 333 Munar Raisiyah, 334 Murad Bey, the Mamluk, i. 98 Murad Khan, the Sultan, his improvements in the building of the House of Allah, ii. 324 Murchison, Sir Roderick, i. 1 Murshid, meaning of the term, i. 14 Specimen of a murshid�s diploma, ii. 327 Musab bin Umayr, missionary from the Prophet to Al-Madinah, i. 352 Musafahah (shaking hands), Arab fashion of, ii. 52 Musahhal, village of, i. 245 Musalla al-Id, the Mosque of Ali at Al-Madinah, i. 395 Musalla al-Nabi (Prophet�s place of prayer), in the Mosque of Al-Madinah, i. 395, 409 Musannam, or raised graves, of the Badawin, i. 430 Music and musical instruments, of the Badawin, i. 145, ii. 107 Of Southern Arabia, remarks on, and on the music of the East, 223, n. Musket-balls, Albanian method of rifling, i. 267, n. Muslim bin Akbah al-Marai, his defeat of the Madani, i. 421, n. Mustachios, clipped short by the Shafe�i school, ii. 53 [p.458] Mustafa, Al- (the Chosen), a title of the Prophet, ii. 37, n. Musattah, or level graves, of the Badawin, i. 430 Mustarah, or resting-place, on Mount Ohod, i. 424 Mustasim, Al-, last Caliph of Baghdad, his assistance in completing the fifth Mosque of the Prophet, i. 368 Mustaslim, or chief of the writers of the tomb of the Prophet, i. 371 Mustazi b�illah, Al-, the Caliph, i. 366, n. Mutamid, Al-, the Caliph, his additions to the House of Allah, ii. 324 Mutanabbi, Al-, the poet, i. 107, n. His chivalry, ii. 96 Admiration of the Arabs for his works, 97 Mu�tasim, Al-, the Caliph, his chivalry, ii. 96 Mutazid, Al-, the Caliph, his additions to the House of Allah, ii. 324 Muttaka, Al-, legend of the stone at Meccah so called, ii. 254 Muwajihat al-Sharifah, or �Holy Fronting,� in the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 309 Muzaykayh, Al-, a surname of Amir bin Amin, i. 348 Myzab (water-spout), of the Ka�abah, ii. 304 Generally called Myzab al-Rahmah, 304, n. Muzaynah tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Its antiquity and nobility, 145 Its purely Arab blood, 146 Muzdalifah (the approacher), the Mosque so called, ii. 181 �Muzzawir,� or conductor of the pilgrim to the Prophet�s tomb, i. 305 Almost all the Madinites act as, 374 Importance of, 374 NABAWI, the Mihrab al-, in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 335 Nabi, Bir al-, at Kuba, i. 414, n. Nabi, Masjid al-, description of, i. 307 Nabi, the Masjid al-, or the Prophet�s Mosque at Al-Madinah, built by Mohammed, i. 360 Nabi, the Shubak al-, or Prophet�s window, i. 316 Nabi Bir al-, or the Prophet�s well, i. 338 Superstitions respecting, 338 Nafi Maula, Al- (Imam Nafi al-Kari), son of Omar, tomb of, ii. 38 Nafil, the Hijazi, his pollution of the Kilis, or Christian Church, i. 321, n. Nafr, Al- (the Flight), from Muna to Meccah, ii. 206 Nahl, Al-, visit to, i. 11 Nahw (syntax), study of, in schools, i. 104 Naib al-Harim, or vice-intendant of the Mosque of Meccah, ii. 319 Najjar, Benu, i. 357 Meaning of the name, 357, n. Nakb, the valley of, i. 279, n. �Nakh, to,� the camels, i. 244 Nakhawilah, the race of heretics so called, at Al-Madinah; ii. 1 Their principles, 2 Nakhil (or palm plantations), of Al-Madinah, i. 399 �Nakhwali,� i. 403 Nakib, or assistant Mustaslim of the tomb of the Prophet, i. 372 Nakil, or apostles, of the Prophet, i. 353. n. Namrud (Nimrod), dispersion under him, i. 343 Nassar, Shaykh, the Badawi of Tur, i, 141, et seq. His finesse, 153 Nasur, or ulcer of Al-Hijaz. See Ulcer Natak al-Nabi, at Meccah, origin of, ii. 253 [p.459] Nazir, a tribe of the Benu Israel, i. 349 Nebek, the fruit of a palm-tree so called, i. 337 Nebek, or jujube tree, of Al-Madinah, i. 404 Supposed to have been the thorn which crowned our Saviour�s head, 405, n. Nebuchadnezzar (Bukht al-Nasr), invasion of, i. 347 Nijd, i. 266, n. Its choice horses and camels, 266, n. The greatest breeding country in Arabia, 266, n. View of the ground of, 285 Excellence of the dates of, 383 The Nijdi tribes of Badawin, their temperament, ii. 78 Newspaper, establishment of a, in Egypt, i. 109, n. Niebuhr, his remarks on the Sinaitic Arabs referred to, i. 147 His description of the Oriental sandal, 236 Reference to, 265, n., 385, n. His incorrect hearsay description of the Prophet�s tomb, 323, n. Night journey in Arabia, description of, ii. 132 Nile, steamboat of the, i. 29 Description of, 29 The Barrage bridge, 30 Objects seen on the banks of the, 31 Compared with Sind, 31 Nimrah, Masjid, or Mosque without the minaret, ii. 181 Nisa, the Bab al-, or women�s gate, at Al-Madinah, i. 308 Niyat, in Moslem devotions, i. 76 In the visitation of the Mosque of Al-Kuba, 409 Repeated when approaching Meccah, ii. 139 Niyat, or the running, at the Little Pilgrimage, ii. 244 Nizam, or Turkish infantry, i. 226 Noachians, in Arabia, ii. 77 Their many local varieties, 78, n. Noah, account of Ibn Abbas respecting the settlement of his family, i. 343 Nolan, Captain, reference to his work on Cavalry, i. 263 Nullah, the Indian, identical with the Fiumara of Arabia, i. 3, 4 Nur al-Din, al-Malik al-Adil, i. 367 Nur al-Din Shahid Mahmud bin Zangi, the Sultan, i. 367 Nur, Jabal, anciently Hira, ii. 398, n. Its celebrity, ii. 179 Nur, Shaykh, sensation caused by his appearance in the streets of Cairo, i. 126 His defection, 159 His return, 161 His fishing tackle, 198 His dirty appearance at Al-Madinah, 290 His improved aspect, 294 Enraptured with Al-Madinah, ii. 5 His preparations for leaving Al-Madinah, 51 His ride in the shugduf of Ali bin Ya Sin, ii. 126 Accompanies the pilgrim to the Ka�abah, 172 Becomes now Haji Nur, 260 His quarrel with Mohammed al-Basyuni, 271 OASES, the, i. 149 Derivation of the word, 149, n. Vulgar idea of an oasis, 150, n. Love of the Badawin for them, 150, n. Officials, Asiatic, how to treat, i. 20 Habits and manners of, 27 Ogilvie, Mr., English Consul at Jeddah, shot at for amusement by Albanian soldiers, i. 133 Ohod, Jabal (Mount Ohod), i. 279, n., 285 Prayer in honour of the martyrs of, 328 Grave of Aaron on, 346 Its distance from Al-Madinah, 379 Winter on, 382 Visitation to the martyrs of, 419 The Prophet�s declaration concerning it, 421 Supposed to be one of the-four hills of Paradise, 421, n. Meaning of the word, 422, n. Causes of its present reputation, 423 Its springs, 423, n. The Mustarah or resting-place, 424 The Fiumara of, 424 Its distance from Al-Madinah, 425 Its appalling look, 425 [p.460] Olema, their regulation respecting the prostration prayer, ii. 312 Their opinion respecting the death of Moslem saints, &c., 340, n. One of the five orders of pensioners at the prophet�s Mosques, 375 Omar, the Caliph. His window in the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 316 Benediction bestowed on him, 320 His tomb, 325 His Mosque at Jerusalem, 325, n. Sent forward by the Prophet to Al-Madinah, 354 Improves the Masjid at Al-Madinah, 363 Supplies the town of Al-Madinah with water, 381 Mosque of, at Al-Madinah, 395 His respect for the Mosque at Al-Kuba, 408 His tomb defiled by all Persians who can do so, 431, 435 His murderer Fayruz, 435 Omar Bin Abd al-Aziz, governor of Al-Madinah, i. 327, n. Omar Effendi, his personal appearance, i. 161 His character, 161 His part in the fray on board the ship, 192 Effects of a thirty-six hours� sail on him, 209 His brothers at Yambu�, 230 His alarm at the Hazimi tribe, 231 Takes leave of Yambu�, 241 His rank in the camel file, 243 His arrival at Al-Madinah, 281 His house in Al-Barr, 297 His intimacy with the pilgrim, 300 His gift of a piece of a Kiswah to the pilgrim, 322, n. His account of the various offices of the Mosque of the Prophet, 311 His share of the pensions of the Mosque, 375 Accompanies the pilgrim to Ohod, 419 Bids him adieu, ii. 54 His brothers the shopkeepers of Al-Madinah, 8, n. Runs away from his father at Jeddah, 270 Caught and brought back, 271 Omar ibn Fariz, poems of, i. 107, n. Onayn, the Masjid, near Al-Madinah, ii. 49 Onions, leeks, and garlic, disliked by the Prophet, i. 357 Abominable in the opinion of the Wahhabis, 357, n. Ophthalmia in Egypt, i. 181 Rarity of, in Arabia, 385 Allusions of Herodotus to, 385, n. An ancient affliction in Egypt, 385, n. A scourge in Modern Egypt, 386, n. Origin and progress of the disease, 386, n. Practices of Europeans to prevent, 386, n. Remedies of the author, 387, n. Errors of native practitioners, 387, n. Orientals, their repugnance to, and contempt for, Europeans, i. 110 Discipline among, must be based on fear, 212 Effect of a strange place on them generally, 232, n. Osman Effendi, the Scotchman, i. 388, n. Osman, the Caliph, his Cufic Koran, ii. 322, n. His wish to be buried, near the Prophet, 325 Prayers for, 328 The niche Mihrab Osman, 330 Assists in building the Prophet�s Mosque, 361 Builds the second Mosque at Al-Madinah, 363 Enlarges the Mosque of Al-Kuba, 408 Loses the Prophet�s seal ring, 413 His troubles, 413, n. Visit to his tomb at Al-Bakia, ii. 32 His funeral, 35 His two wives, the daughters of the Prophet, 36, n. Osman, the Pasha, the present principal officer of the Mosque at Al-Madinah, ii. 371 Osman, Bab, i. 361 Osman bin Mazun, his burial-place, ii. 32 Ostriches, found in Al-Hijaz, ii. 106, n. Arab superstition respecting them, 106, n. Ovington, reference to, i. 281, n. Oxymel. See Sikanjabin [p.461] PALM-GROVE, of Al-Madinah, i. 360 Palm-trees, venerable, of the hypæthral court of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 337 Extensive plantations of, in the suburbs of Al-Madinah, 397 Loveliness of the palm-plantations of Al-Madinah, 399 Celebrity of its dates, 400 The time of masculation of the palms, 403 The Daum or Theban palm, ii. 62 Parah, value of the Turkish coin so called ii. 11, n. �Paradise, Mountains of,� i. 222, ii. 274, n. Parasang, the Oriental, in the days of Pliny, and at the present day, ii. 343, n. Pashin valley, inhabitants of, i. 246, n. Pass, Arabic terms for a, ii. 61 Passports in Egypt (Tazkirah) inconveniences of, i. 19 Sir G. Wilkinson�s observations on, 18, n. Adventures in search of one, 19 British, carelessness in distributing, in the East, 46 Difficulty of obtaining one in Egypt, 127, et seq. �Path� (Tarakat) to heaven, i. 15 Pathan (Afghan), the term, i. 45 Paul�s, St., in London, the fourth largest cathedral in the world, i. 364, n. Pebbles of the accepted, ii. 180, n. Pensioners, orders of, at the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 375 Perceval, M.C. de, reference to, i. 275, n. His account of Amlak, 343, n. His remarks on the title �Arkam,� 345, n. Quoted, 347, n., 350, n. Referred to, 353, n., 354, n., 384, n., 399, n. Perfumed pillar, in the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 335 Perfumes, of the Zair, i. 309, n. Perjury, price of, at Jeddah, i. 47 Persia, tobacco and pipes of, i. 179 Persian Pilgrims, a disagreeable race, i. 205 They decline a challenge of the orthodox pilgrims, 222 Persecutions they suffer in Al-Hijaz, 232, n. Luxuriance of the plains of, 251 The Persians� defilement of the tombs of Abu Bakr and Omar, 431, n. Eunuchs among the, 371, n. Fire-temples of the ancient Guebres in, 379, n. Large number of, in the Damascus caravan, 434 Treatment of the �Ajami� at Al-Madinah, 434 Charged with having defiled the Ka�abah, ii. 168, n. Peter�s, St., at Rome, the second largest cathedral in the world, ii. 364, n. Pharaoh, the �Cæsar aut Diabolus� of the Nile, i. 10, n. Spot where he and his host were whelmed in the �hill of waters,� 199 Arab legends respecting that event, 199, n. Pharaoh�s Hot Baths (Hammam Faraun), i. 197 Philosophy (Hikmat), study of, little valued in Egypt, i. 107, n. Ph�nician colony on the Red Sea, i. 202 The Ph�nicians identified with the Amalik of Moslem writers, i. 343, n. Physicians, Arab, not so skilful as they were, i. 390 Physiologists, their errors respecting the food of the inhabitants of hot and cold countries, ii. 11, n. Piastre, value of, ii. 11, n. Pickpockets in Egypt, i. 25 [p.462] Pigeons, sacred at Meccah, ii. 174 Enter almost everywhere into the history of religion, 175 Pilgrims, distribution of, at Alexandria, into three great roads, i. 168 Pauper pilgrims, 168 Steady decrease of the number of pilgrims who pass annually through Suez, 176 Reasons assigned for this, 177 Takrouri pilgrims, 177 The Hamail, or pocket Koran of, 239 How they live on the march, ii. 63 Ordinances of the pilgrimage, 140 Offerings for atonements in cases of infractions of, 140 Observations on, 279 Common to all old faiths, 279 Conditions under which every Moslem is bound to perform the pilgrimage, 279 The three kinds of pilgrimage, 280 The treatise of Mohammed of Shirbin respecting pilgrim rites, 281, et seq. Directions to the intending pilgrim, from other books, 281, n. The Prophet�s last pilgrimage, the model for the Moslem world, 290 The reckless pilgrimages of poor Indians, 185 Note on the ceremonies of the Wahhabi pilgrimage, 195, n. The change from Ihram to Ihlal, 205 The Umrah, or little pilgrimage, 251 Pilgrim�s tree, i. 154 Probably a debris of fetish-worship, i. 155, n. Its practice in various Eastern countries, 155, n. Pistols, of the Badawin, ii. 105 Pitts, Joseph, his pilgrimage to Meccah and Al-Madinah; ii. 358 Sketch of his adventures, 358, et seq. Plague. See Taun Poetry, Arab, those generally studied, i. 107, n. The Burdah and Hamziyah of Mohammed of Abusir, 107, n. The Banat Su�adi of Ka�ab al-Ahbar, 107, n. The Diwan Umar ibn Fariz, 107, n. Al-Mutanabbi, 107, n. Al-Hariri, 108, n. Simplicity of ancient Arab poetry, 108, n. Degenerate taste of the modern Egyptians in, 108, n. Poetical exclamations of the pilgrims on obtaining the first view of Al-Madinah, 279, 280 Tenderness and pathos of the old, ii. 93 The suspended poem of Labid, 93 The poetic feeling of the Badawin, 97 The improvisatore of the Benu Kahtan, 98, n. Arabic suited to poetry, 99 The rhyme of the Arabs, 101, n. Poison. The Tariyak of Al-Irak, the great counter-poison, ii, 108 Poisoners, professed, introduced by Mohammed Ali, ii. 86, n. �Poison-wind,� i. 265, n. Its effects, 265, n. Police of Egypt, curiosity of, i. 2 Police magistrates in Cairo, scenes before, 120 The �Pasha of the Night,� 120 Politeness of the Orientals, i. 210 Unpoliteness of some �Overlands,� 210 Polygamy and monogamy, comparisons between, ii. 91, n. Pomegranates, of Al-Madinah, i. 405 The Shami, Turki, and Misri kinds, 405 Pompey�s pillar, i. 10, 29 Prayer, the Abrar, or call to, i. 88 The Maghrib, or evening, 151, n. The Isha, or night prayer, 233 Prayer to prevent storms (Hizb al-Bahr), 211 The prayer recited, 211 Prayers on first viewing the city of Al-Madinah, 259 The prayer at the Prophet�s Mosque, 309 The places of prayer at, 311 The afternoon prayers, 312 The Sujdah, or single-prostration prayer, 312 The Dua, or [p.463] Supplication after the two-bow prayer, 312 The position during, 313 Efficacy ascribed to the act of blessing the Prophet, 316 Prayer at the Shubak al-Nabi, 316 Ancient practice of reciting this prayer, 316, n. The Testification, 318 The benedictions on Abu Bakr and on Omar, 320 The two-bow prayer at the Rauzah or Garden, 325, n. The prayer at the Malaikah, or place of the angels, 326 The prayer opposite to the grave of the Lady Fatimah, 327, n. The prayer in honour of Hamzah and of the martyrs of Mount Ohod, 328 Prayers for the souls of the blessed who rest in Al-Bakia, 328 At the Prophet�s window, 329 Public service in Al-Rauzah, 330, n. Origin of the prayer-niche in the Mosque, 361, 364, n. Al-Kuba, the first place of public prayer in Al-Islam, 407 The Niyat, or intention, 409 The Prophet�s place of prayer at Al-Kuba, 409 The prayers at the Mosque of Al-Kuba, 409 The prayers at Hamzah�s tomb, 427 The Niyat when approaching Meccah, ii. 139 The Talbiyat, or exclaiming, 139 The prayers on sighting Meccah, 152 The four Makams, or stations for prayer, 307, 308 The prayers at the Ka�abah, 164, et seq., 209 Procrastination of Orientals, ii. 21 Preacher, at Meccah, his style of dress, ii. 225 Origin of his wooden sword, 226, n. Presents of dates from Al-Madinah, i. 400 Pressgangs in Cairo, i. 117 Price, Major, referred to, i. 384, n. Prichard, Dr., on the Moors of Africa, i. 187, n. Pride of the Arabs, i. 246 Printing-press, in Egypt, i. 108, n. Prophets, in Moslem law, not supposed to be dead, i. 340, n. Prosody (Ilm al-�Aruz), study of, among the Arabs, i. 107 Prostration-prayers, i. 311, n., 312, n. Proverbs, Arab, i. 149, 277, n. Ptolemy the geographer, i. 225 Puckler-Muskau, Prince, his remarks on the reflected heat of the Desert, i. 144, n. Pulpit, the Prophet�s, at Al-Madinah, i. 311 Pyramids, i. 30 Their covering of yellow silk or satin, ii. 213, n. RABELAIS, on the discipline of armies, i. 268 Races of Badawin. See Badawin Radhwah, Jabal (one of the �Mountains of Paradise�), i. 122 Rafik, or collector of blackmail, ii. 112 Rafizi (rejector, heretic), origin of the term, ii. 4, n. Rahah, meaning of the term, ii. 256 Rahmah, Bab al-, i. 307, 308, 361 Jabal al- (Mount of Mercy). See Arafat, Mount Rahman of Herat, the calligrapher, i. 104, n. Rahmat al-Kabirah, the attack of cholera so called, i. 384 Railway, in Egypt, i. 113 Rain, want of, at all times, in Egypt, ii. 180, 181 The rainy season expected with pleasure at Al-Madinah, i. 383 Welcomed on the march, ii. 142 [p.464] Raisiyah minaret of Al-Madinah, i. 373 Rajm (lapidation), practice of, in Arabia, ii. 180 Rakb, or dromedary Caravan, ii. 50 Rakham (vulture), ii. 62 Ramazan, i. 74 Effects of, 75 Ceremonies of, 77 The �Fast-breaking,� 79 Ways of spending a Ramazan evening, 79 The Greek quarter at Cairo, 81 The Moslem quarter, 81 Beyond the walls, 84 Ramy, or Lapidation, ceremony of, ii. 203 Ramlah, or sanded place, i. 307 Ras al-Khaymah, i. 248, n. Ras al-Tin, the Headland of Figs (the ancient Pharos), i. 7 Rashid, Bir (well of Rashid), ii. 59 Rauzah, Al-, or the Prophet�s garden, at Al-Madinah, i. 310 Traditions respecting it, 310, n. Description of it, 312 The two-bow prayer at the, 325 Public prayers in, 330, n. Farewell visits to, 56 Rayah (the Banner), the Masjid al-, near Al-Madinah, ii. 48 Rayyan, the hill near Meccah, ii. 147 Raziki grapes, of Al-Madinah, i. 404 Red Sea, view of, on entering Suez, i. 158 Injury done to the trade of, by the farzh or system of rotation at Suez, 170 Shipbuilding on, 177 Kinds of ships used on, 178 Imports and exports at Suez, 179, 180 Description of a ship of, 188 Course of ships on, 195 Observations on the route taken by the Israelites in crossing, 195 Scenery from, 195 Bright blue of the waters of, 196 Ph�nician Colony on, 201 Christian colony on the shores of, 202 Jabaliyah, or mountaineers of, 202, n. Morning on, 207 Fierce heat of the mid-day, 208 Harmony and majesty of sunset, 208 Night on, 209 Marsa Damghah, 213 Wijh harbour, 214 The town of Wijh, 215 Coral reefs of the Red Sea, 218 The Ichthyophagi and the Badawin of the coasts of, 218 Arab legends respecting the phosphoric light in, 219 Al-Kulzum the Arabic name for the, 250, n. The great heats near, in Arabia, prejudicial to animal generation, 266 The shores of, when first peopled, according to Moslem accounts, 343, n. Rekem (Numbers, xxxi. 8), identified with the Arcam of Moslem writers, 345, n. Religion of the Badawin, ii. 109 Religious phrenzy (Malbus), case of, at Meccah, ii. 175 Susceptibility of Africans to, 175 Rhamnus Nabeca (the Nebek or Jujube), of Al-Madinah, i. 405, n. Rhazya stricta, used as a medicine by the Arabs, ii. 137 Rhetoric, study of, in Egypt, i. 107, n. Rhyme of the Arabs, ii. 101, n. Ria, or steep descents, i. 251 Rida, Al- (portion of the pilgrim dress), ii. 139 �Ridge, Affair of the,� the battle so called, i. 421, n. Rifkah, Al-, the black-mail among the Badawin, ii. 114 Rih al-Asfar (cholera morbus), in Al-Hijaz, i. 384 Medical treatment of the Arabs in cases of, 384 The Rahmat al-Kabirah, 384 Ring (seal), of the Prophet, i. 413 [p.465] Rites of pilgrimage, ii. 281, et seq. Riwaks, or porches, surro[u]nding the hypæthral court of the Mosque at Al-Madinah, i. 334 �Riyal Hajar,� a stone dollar so called by the Badawin, i. 370, n. Riza Bey, son of the Sharif of Meccah, ii. 150 Robbers in the Desert, mode of proceeding of, i. 127, 249 Sa�ad the robber-chief of Al-Hijaz, 256 Shaykh Fahd, 257 How Basrah, a den of thieves, was purged, 258, n. Indian pilgrims protected by their poverty, 265 Rock inscriptions near Meccah, ii. 147 Ruasa, or chief of the Mu�ezzins, residence of, i. 334 Ruba al-Khali (the empty abode), its horrid depths and half-starving population, i. 3 �Rubb Rumman,� or pomegranate syrup, of Taif and Al-Madinah, i. 405 Rukham (white marble) of Meccah, ii. 295, n. Rokn al-Yamany, of the Ka�abah, ii. 303 Rumah, Bir al-, or Kalib Mazni, at Kuba, i. 414, n. Rumat, Jabal al- (Shooters� Hill), near Al-Madinah, ii. 49 Rangit Singh, his paramount fear and hatred of the British, i. 39 Russia, opinions of the Madinites on the war with, i. 292 The present feeling in Egypt respecting, 111 Rustam, battles of, i. 94 Rutab (wet dates), i. 402 SA�AD AL-JINNI (the Demon), description of his personal appearance, i. 162 His character, 162 Equipped as an able seaman on board the pilgrim-ship, 189 His part in the fray on board, 192 Effects of a thirty-six hours� sail on him, 210 His quarrel with the coffee-house keeper at Wijh, 216 His sulkiness, 223 Leaves Yambu�, 240 His apprehensions in the Desert near Yambu�, 244 Purchases cheap wheat at Al-Hamra, 254 His fear of the Badawin, 261 His fear of the robbers, 272 Takes his place in the Caravan, 272 Forced to repay a debt to the pilgrim, 276 Arrives at Al-Madinah, 280 His intimacy with the pilgrim, 300 Accompanies the pilgrim to Ohod, 418 Sa�ad bin Ma�az, converted to Al-Islam, i. 352 His tomb, ii. 44, n. Condemns the Kurayzah to death, 46 Sa�ad ibn Zararah, his tomb, ii. 44, n. Sa�ad, the robber-chief of Al-Hijaz, i. 256 Particulars respecting him, 256 His opponent Shaykh Fahd, 257 His blood-feud with the Sharif of Meccah, 259 Description of Sa�ad, 259 His habits and manners, 260 His character, 260 He sometimes does a cheap good deed, 265 Conversation respecting him, 270 Description of his haunt, 270 Saba, the land of, i. 348 Sabæans, their claim to the Ka�abah as a sacred place, ii. 302, n. Sabatier, M., i. 112, n. Sabil, or public fountain, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Sabkhah, or tufaceous gypsum of the Desert, ii. 134 Sacrifices in cases of infractions of the ordinances of the pilgrimage, ii. 140 At Muna, 217, 218 [p.466] Sadakah, or alms, sent to the Holy Land, i. 139, n. Sadi, the Bayt al-, the makers of the Kiswah of the Ka�abah, ii. 215 Safa, Al-, the hill, at Meccah, i. 364 The ceremonies at, ii. 44 Meaning of �Safa,� 44, n. Safk (clapping of hands), practice of, in the East, ii. 223 Sahal, sells ground to Mohammed, i. 357 Sahil, the Sufi, i. 10, n. Sahn, Al-, or central area of a Mosque, i. 307, 333 Sahrij, or water tank, on Mount Ohod, i. 429 Sai, Al-, the ceremony so called, ii. 170, n. Compendium of the ceremony, 288 Saidi tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Saint Priest, M. de, i. 112, n. Saints, in Moslem law, not supposed to be dead, i. 340 Their burial-place at Al-Bakia, ii. 31 Saj, or Indian teak, i. 364 Sakka, or water-carrier of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 331, 373 Salabah bin Amru, i. 349 Salam, among the Moslems, i. 143, 151 Not returning a salam, meaning of, 231, n. Salam, or Blessings on the Prophet, i. 76 Salam, the Bab al-, at Al-Madinah, i. 307, n., 309, 313 Salat, or mercy, in Moslem theology, i. 313, n. Salatah, the dish so called, i. 135 Salih Shakkar, description of, i. 164 Effects of a thirty-six hours� sail on him, 210 Leaves Yambu�, 241 Arrives at Al-Madinah, 280 Salihi tribe of Arabs, i. 145 Salim, the Benu, their subdivisions, ii. 120, n. Salim, Sultan, of Egypt, i. 146 Salkh, the kind of circumcision among the Badawin so called, ii. 110 Salma al-Mutadalliyah, great-grandmother of the Prophet, i. 351, n. Salman, the Persian, companion of the Prophet, i. 414, n. Salman al-Farsi, the Masjid, ii. 48 Salmanhudi, Al- (popularly El Samhoudy), his testimony respecting the tomb of the Prophet, i. 323 Remarks on his name, 323, n. His burial-place, 323, n. His account of the graves of the Prophet and the first two caliphs, 340 Unsuccessful endeavour to purchase a copy of Al-Samanhudi, 340, n. Visits the tombs of the Hujrah, 368, n. Salt, sacredness of the tie of �terms of salt,� ii. 53, n. The bond of, sacredness of, among the Badawin, 112 The Syrians called �abusers of the salt,� 133, n. Salutation of peace in the East, i. 143, 151, 287 Samanhud, the ancient Sebennitis, i. 323, n. Sambuk, i. 178 Description of, 188 Samman, Mohammed al-, the saint, i. 426 His Zawiyah, or oratory, near Ohod, 426 Samun wind, i. 149, 265, n. Its effects on the skin, ii. 69 And on the travellers� temper, 127 The, on the road between Al-Madinah and Meccah, 129 Sanctuary, right of, in the Ka�abah, ii. 325 The Prophet�s. See Ka�abah [p.467] Sand, pillars of, in Arabia, ii. 69 Arab superstition respecting them, 66 Sandals donned when approaching Meccah, ii. 139 Sandal, the Oriental, i. 236 Uncomfortable and injurious to wearers of them, 236, n. Sanding instead of washing, when water cannot be obtained, i. 261 Sandstone, yellow (Hayar Shumaysi), of Meccah, ii. 295, n. Saniyat Kuda�a, near Meccah, ii. 152 Saracen, derivation of the word, i. 187, n. Saracens, Gibbon�s derivation of the name, ii. 76, n. Saracenic style of architecture, i. 90, 92, 364 Sarf, Al- (grammar of the verb), study of, in schools, i. 104 Sariyah, or night march, disagreeableness of, ii. 67, 68 Sarraf, or money changer, ii. 235 Sarsar wind, i. 151, n. Sa�ud, the Wahhabi, i. 242 Besieges the city of Al-Madinah, i. 369 Saur, Jabal, Mohammed�s stay in the cave of, i. 355, n. Its distance from Al-Madinah, 379 Sawadi, or black grapes, i. 404 Sawik, the food so called, i. 275, n. Sayh, Al-, the torrent at Al-Madinah, i. 395, 399, 420 Sayhani, Al-, the date so called, i. 401 Sayl, or torrents, in the suburbs of Al-Madinah, i. 380 Sayyalah, the Wady, i. 274 The cemetery of the people of, 274, n. Sayyid, Abu �l Hayja, Sultan of Egypt, his present to the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 366, n. Sayyid Ali, vice-intendant of the Mosque of Meccah, ii. 319 Sayyidna Isa, future tomb of, i. 326 Sayyids, great numbers of, at Al-Madinah, ii. 3 Their origin, 3, n. Dress of Sayyids in Al-Hijaz, 4 The Sayyid Alawiyah, 4 Graves of the, at Al-Bakia, 32 Schools in Egypt, i. 102 Course of study in Al-Azhar, 103, et seq. Intonation of the Koran taught in, 106 Science, exact and natural, state of, in Egypt, i. 108, n. Scorpions near Meccah, ii. 179 �Sea of Sedge,� i. 196 Seasons, divided into three, by the Arabs, i. 383 Sebastiani, General, i. 112, n. Sebennitis, the modern Samanhud, i. 323, n. Semiramis, eunuchs first employed by, i. 371, n. Sena�a, city of, its depravity, ii. 107, n. Senna plant, abundance of the, in Arabia, ii. 72 Its growth in the Deserts, 137 Sepulchre, the Holy, imitations of, in Christian churches, i. 95 Sermons, Moslem, ii. 313 The Sermons of Sa�adi, 165 The sermon on Mount Arafat, 290 The Khutbat al-Wakfah, Sermon of the Standing (upon Arafat), 197 The Sermon at the Harim, 225 Impression made by it on the hearers, 226 Sesostris, ships of, i. 189 His blindness, 385 Shafe�i, Al-, Mosque of, i. 105, n. Shafe�i, Imam, his vision of Ali, ii. 184, n. Shafe�i, Masalla, or place of prayer of the Shafe�i school, i. 310, n. [p.468] Shafe�i pilgrimage, the compendium of Mohammed of Shirbin relating to, ii. 281 et seq. Shafe�i school, mufti of, at Al-Madinah, i. 373 Shahan, the Benu (a Jewish tribe), in Arabia, i. 347, n. Shajar Kanadil, or brass chandelier of the hypæthral court of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 339 Shaking hands (Musafahah), Arab fashion of, i. 52 Shame, a passion with Eastern nations; i. 37 Shami, Bab al-, or Syrian gate, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Shami pomegranates, of Al-Madinah, i. 405 Shamiyah, or Syrian, ward of Meccah, ii. 153 Quarrels of the, with the Sulaymaniyah quarter, 153 Shammas bin Osman, his tomb at Ohod, i. 429 Shamsan, Jabal, the burial-place of Cain, ii. 160, n. Sharai and Bi-Sharai, the two orders of Darwayshes, i. 15 Shararif, or trefoiled crenelles in the walls of Al-Madinah, i. 392 Sharbat Kajari, the poison of the Persians, ii. 86 Shark, Al-, i. 266 Explanation of the name, 266, n. Sharki, the Darb al-, i. 380 Sharzawan, Al-, or base of the Ka�abah, ii. 298, n. Shaving in the East, ii. 14 Shaw, Dr. Norton, i. 1, 5 Shawarib, Abu, the father of mustachios, ii. 53 Shaybah, generally called Abd al-Muttalib, grandfather of the Prophet i. 351, n. Shaybah, Ibn, his account of the burial-place of Aaron, i. 346 Shaybah, Bab Benu, legend of, of the Ka�abah, ii. 161, n. The true sangre azul of Al-Hijaz, 206 Keepers of the keys of the Ka�abah, 206 The chief Shaykh Ahmad, 206, n. Shaykh, explanation of the term, i. 14 Description of an Arab, fully equipped for travelling, 234 Shaykhayn, the �two shaykhs,� Abu Bakr and Osman, ii. 2 Shaytan al-Kabir (the Great Devil), ceremony of throwing stones at, ii. 203 Sheep, the three breeds of, in Al-Hijaz, ii. 17 The milk of the ewe, 17 Shems al-Din Yusuf, al-Muzaffar, chief of Yaman, his contribution to the fifth Mosque of the Prophet, i. 368 Sharifs, or descendants of Mohammed, i. 327 Great numbers of, at Al-Madinah, ii. 3 Their origin, 3, n. Their intense pride, 79, n. Forced celibacy of their daughters, 79, n. Their bravery, 150, n. Causes of their pugnacity, 150, n. Sharifi, Al-, the grape so called, i. 404 Shi�ahs, their defilement of the tombs of Abu Bakr and Omar, i. 321, n. Their antipathy to the Sunnis, 321, n. Their aversion to Abu Bakr, 354, n. Their detestation of Syria and of the Syrians, ii. 138, n. Shibr Katt, i. 30 Shibriyah, or cot, for travelling, ii, 65 Ship-building on the Red Sea, i. 177 [p.469] Ships. The toni or Indian canoe, i. 188, n. The �catamaran� of Madras and Aden, i. 189, n. Shiraz, boasts of the Shi�ahs at, i. 321, n. Shisha, or Egyptian water-pipe, i. 80 Shisha, or travelling pipe, ii. 125 Shopping in Alexandria, i. 11 Shuab Ali, valley of, i. 279, n. Shuab al-Hajj, (the pilgrim�s pass), scene in, i. 272 Shugduf, difference between the Syrian and Hijazi shugduf, i. 418 Dangers to, in �acacia-barrens,� ii. 69 Shuhada (the Martyrs), i. 274 Remarks on, 274 Its past and future honours, 274, n. Visit to the graves of the, at Mount Ohod, 426, 427 Shumays, Bir, yellow sandstone of, ii. 295, n. Shurafa, pl. of Sharif, a descendant of Mohammed, i. 327 Shurum, i. 145 Shushah, or tuft of hair on the poll, i. 163 Sicard, Father, i. 195 Sidr or Lote tree of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 337 Sie-fa of the Bokte, in Tartary, i. 58 Siesta, i. 299, n. The Kaylulah, or noon siesta, 299 The Aylulah, 299, n. The Ghaylulah, 299, n. The Kaylulah, 299, n. The Faylulah, 299, n. Sikandar Al-Rumi, tomb of, i. 12 Sikanjabin (oxymel), used as a remedy in fevers in Arabia, i. 387 Silk-tree of Arabia. See Asclepias gigantea Sinai, Mount, i. 202 Sinaitic tribes of Arabs, modern, observations on, i. 145, et seq. Chief clans of, 145 Impurity of the race, 146 Their ferocity, 147 How manageable, 147 Sind, dry storms of, i. 247, 265 Singapore, pilgrims from, to Meccah, i. 179 Silat al-Rasul, referred to, i. 384, n. Sittna Zaynab (our Lady Zaynab), Mosque of, at Cairo, i. 98 Siyuti, Al-, his theological works, i. 106, n. Sketching, dangerous among the Badawin, i. 240 Slaves, trade in, at Jeddah and in Egypt, i. 47 Reform in our slave laws throughout the East much needed, 49 Abyssinian slave, style of courting, 59 Slave-hunting in Africa, 60 Condition of slaves in the East, 61 The black slave-girls of Al-Madinah, ii. 12 Value of slave-boys and of eunuchs, 12 Value of the Galla girls, 13 Price of a Jariyah Bayza, or white slave-girl, 13 Female slaves at Meccah, 233 The slave-market of Meccah, 252 The pilgrim�s resolve, if permitted, to destroy the slave-trade, 252 Ease with which the slave-trade may be destroyed in the Red Sea, 252 Small-pox in Arabia. See Judari Smith, Sir L., his defeat of the Beni Bu Ali Arabs, i. 248 Smoking the weed �hashish,� i. 44 Soap, tafl or bole earth used by the Arabs as, i. 415 Sobh Badawin, their plundering propensities, ii. 58 [p.470] Societies, secret, in Egypt, i. 113 Sodom, the long-sought apple of, ii. 138, n. Sola, plain of, near Meccah, ii. 148 Soldier-travellers, fatalities which have befallen them lately, i. 1 Soldiers in Egypt, i. 118 Solomon, King, i. 212 Mosque of, at Jerusalem, connected with, 305 Somalis, dislike of, to tobacco, i. 194, n. Foundation of the tribe, 344, n. Songs of the Badawi Arabs, i. 145 Of Maysunah, ii. 190 Specimen of one, 223 Sonnini, his description of the �Kayf,� i. 9, n. Reference to, 299 His testimony to the virtues of the Harim, ii. 91, n. Sophia�s, St., at Constantinople, the largest Cathedral in the world, i. 364, n. Spanish cathedrals, Oriental origin of, i. 307 Spears (Kanat), of the Badawin, ii. 106 Sports of the Badawin, ii. 104 Springs of Mount Ohod, i. 423, n. Stanhope, Lady Hester, her faith in magic mirrors, i. 288, n. Statuary and pictures forbidden in Mosques, i. 94 Stimulants, effects of drinking, in the East, i. 265, n. Stoa, or Academia, of Al-Madinah, i. 338 Stocks, Dr., of Bombay, reference to, i. 246, n. Stone, obtained near Meccah, ii. 295, n. That of Panopolis, 296 Stone-worship, ii. 301, n. Storm, description of one at Muna, ii. 218 Dry storms of Arabia, i. 247 Streets, of Al-Madinah, i. 392 Students, Moslem, i. 104, n. Wretched prospects, 108 Sudan (Blacksland), i. 177 Suez (Suways), a place of obstacle to pilgrims, i. 128 Safety of the Desert road to, 156 Its want of sweet water, 158, n. Its brackish wells, 158, n. No hammam (or bath) at, 158, n. Number of caravanserais of, 159, n. Want of comfort in them all, 159, n. The farzah, or system of rotation, in the port of, 170, 178 Exorbitant rate of freight at, 170, n. The George Inn at (see George Inn), 173, et seq. Decrease in the number of pilgrims passing through Suez to Meccah, 176 The ship-builders of Suez, 177 Kinds of ships used at, 178 Number of ships at, 178 Imports and exports, 179, 180 Average annual temperature of the year at, 180 Population of, 181 State of the walls, gates, and defences of, 182 Food of the inhabitants of, 182, 183 Their fondness for quarrels, 183 A �pronunciamento� at, 183 Scene on the beach on a July morning, 186 Sufayna, Al-, the village of, ii. 128 Halt of the Baghdad Caravan at, 128 Description of the place, 130 Sufat (half-caste Turk), the present ruling race at Al-Madinah, ii. 5 Suffah, or sofa, companions of the, i. 363 Sufiyan, Abu, his battle with Mohammed at Mount Ohod, i. 423, 425, ii. 47 His daughter, ii. 35 Sufrah, i. 76 �Sufrah hazir,� i. 76, n. [p.471] Suhayl, sells ground at Al-Madinah to Mohammed, i. 357 Sujdah, or single-prostration prayer, i. 312 Suk al-Khuzayriyah, or greengrocers� market of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Zuk al-Habbabah, or grain market of Al-Madinah, 391 Sula, or Sawab, Jabal, near Al-Madinah, ii. 48 Sulayman the Magnificent, the Sultan, his donations to the shrines of Meccah and Al-Madinah, i. 310, n., 368 Sulaymani, the poison so called, ii. 86 Sulaymaniyah Munar, i. 333 Sulaymaniyah, or Afghan quarter of Meccah, ii. 153 Quarrels of the, with the Shamiyah ward, 153 Suls character of Arabic, i. 322, n. A Koran in the library of the Prophet�s Mosque written in the, 338, n. Sumaydah, a sub-family of the Benu Harb, i. 256 Sun, his fierce heat on the Red Sea, i. 207 Effects of, on the mind and body, 208 Majesty of the sunset hour, 208 Heat of, in the Deserts of Arabia, 251 Remarks on sunstrokes, in the East, 365, n. Hour at which it is most dangerous, 275 Adoration of, by kissing the hand, ii. 165, n. Sunnat, or practice or custom of the prophet, i. 340, n. Sunnat al-Tawaf, or practice of circumambulation, ii. 170 Sunnis, their antipathy to the Shi�ahs, i. 321, n. Their reverence for the memory of Abu Bakr, 354 Superstitions of the Arabs, i. 427 Error of Niebuhr respecting, ii. 153, n. That respecting the ceiling of the Ka�abah, 207 The superstitions of Meccans and Christians compared, 237 Those of Arabs and Africans respecting the aloe, 248 Supplication, efficacy of, at the Masjid al-Ahzab, ii. 47 Surat, tobacco of, i. 179 Surgery among the Badawin, ii. 108 Suri (Syrian), Shami, or Suryani, tobacco, i. 65, n. Surrah, or financier of the Caravan, i. 374 Suwan (granite), of Meccah, ii. 295, n. Suwaykah, celebrated in the history of the Arabs, i. 275 Origin of its name, 275, n. Suwayrkiyah, headquarters of the Benu Hosayn, ii. 3 Confines of, 72 The town of, 124 The inhabitants of, 123 Swords of the Arabs, i. 248, ii. 106 Their sword-play, 107 Syria, expedition of Tobba al-Asghar against, i. 350 Abhorrence in which it is held by the Shi�ah sect, ii. 133, n. Wars in, caused by sectarian animosity, 133, n. Syrians on the Red Sea, i. 202 Detestation in which Syria and the Syrians are held by the Shi�ahs, ii. 133, n. Called �abusers of the salt,� 133, n. TABRANI, AL-, his account of the building of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 361 Tafarruj, or lionising, i. 308 Tafl, or bole earth, eaten by Arab women, i. 415 Tafsir (exposition of the Koran), study of, in schools, i. 107 Tahamat Al-Hijaz, or the sea coast of Al-Hijaz, i. 377 [p.472] Taharah, the kind of circumcision among the Badawin so called, ii, 110 Tahlil, or cry of welcome, ii. 159 Taif, population of, i. 393, n. Pears of, 405, n. The �Rubb Rumman� of, 405 The blue peaks of, ii. 148 Takat al-Kashf (niche of disclosure), of the Mosque of Al-Kuba, i. 410 Takiyah, or Darwayshes� dwelling-place in Cairo, i. 85 The Takiyah erected at Al-Madinah by Mohammed Ali, 285 Takruri pilgrims, their wretched poverty, ii. 62 Takht-rawan, or gorgeous litters, i. 418 Expenses of one, from Damascus and back, ii. 65, n. Talbiyat, or exclaiming, when approaching Meccah, ii. 139 Derivation of the term, 140, n. Talhah, friend of Mohammed, sent forward by the Prophet to Al-Madinah, i. 354 Tamarisk tree, i. 403 Tamattu, Al- (possession), the pilgrimage so called, ii. 281 Tanzimat, folly of, i. 286 Tarawih prayers, i. 80 Tarbush and fez, ii. 15 Tarik al-Ghabir, the road from Al-Madinah to Meccah, ii. 58 Tarikh Tabari, referred to, i. 347 Tarikah bin Himyariah, wife of Amru bin Amin, i. 348 Tariyak (Theriack) of Al-Irak, the counter-poison so called, ii. 108 Tarshish, i. 189 Tarwiyat, origin of the ceremony of, ii. 289, n. Tashrih, the Madani children�s bod[i]es marked with, ii. 13 Tashrit (gashing), the ceremony at Meccah so called, ii. 234, n. Taslim, to say �salam,� i. 329 Tatarif, or cartridges of the Badawin, ii. 116 Taun (the plague), never in Al-Hijaz, i. 384 Tawaf, or circumambulation of the House of Allah at Meccah, i. 305 Ceremonies of, at the Ka�abah, ii. 165 Its probable origin, 165, n. The Sunnat al-Tawaf, or practice of circumambulation, 170 Sketch of the ceremony of Tawaf, 286 Tawarah tribes of Arabs. See Arabs, and Sinaitic tribes Tawashi, the generic name of the eunuchs of the Mosque, i. 371, n. Taxation in Egypt, i. 112, n. Capitation tax levied on infidels, 233, n. No taxes paid by the Madani, ii. 6 Tayammum, the sand-bath, i. 261 Tayfur Agha, chief of the college of eunuchs at Al-Madinah, i. 371 Tayr Ababil, i. 384, n. Tayyarah, or �flying Caravan,� ii. 50 Tazkirah. See Passports Testification, the prayer so called, i. 318, n. Thamud tribe, of tradition, i. 221 Theology, Moslem, observations on, i. 105, et seq. Poverty of an Alim, or theologian, 131 Thieves in the Desert, i. 248 Thirst, difficulty with which it is borne by the Badawin, ii. 69 How to allay, 69, n. Tigritiya, the Abyssinian malady so called, ii. 175, n. [p.473] Timbak (tobacco), from Persia or Surat, i. 179 Tinder, Nubian and Indian, ii, 138, n. Tipu Sahib, his treatment of his French employes, i. 39, n. Tobacco of Egypt, i. 65 Latakia, 65, n. Suri (Syrian), Shami, or Suryani, 65, n. Tumbak, 66, n. Hummi, 66, n. The Shisha, or Egyptian water-pipe, 80 Pipes of the Badawin and Arab townspeople, 144, n. The old Turkish meerschaum, 144, n. Aversion of the barbarous tribes of Africa to the smell of, 194, n. The shisha (hooka) of Arabia, 296 Syrian tobacco generally used in Al-Madinah, 298 Its soothing influence, ii, 63 Waterpipes, 63 Salary of a pipe-bearer, 63, n. Smoking among the Badawin, 118 The shisha, or travelling pipe, 125 Instance of the Wahhabi hatred of, 129, 142 Tobba Abu Karb, i. 350, n. Tobba al-Asghar, his expedition to Al-Madinah, i. 350 And to Syria and Al-Irak, 350 Abolishes idolatry, 351 Tobba, �the Great,� or �the Chief,� i. 351, n. Tombs: that of Daniyal al-Nabi (Daniel the Prophet), i. 12 Of Sikandar al-Rumi, 12 Of Mohammed a1-Busiri, 12 Of Abu Abbas al-Andalusi, 12 Of the martyred grandsons of Mohammed, Hasan, and Husayn, 97, n. Of Kaid Bey and the other Mamluk Kings, 98 Peculiar form of the sepulchre now common in Al-Hijaz, Egypt, and the Red Sea, 155, n. The tomb of Abu Zulaymah, 199 Of Shaykh Hasan al-Marabit, on the Red Sea, 218 Distant view of the Prophet�s tomb at Al-Madinah, 286 Account of a visit to it, 304-342 The Lady Fatimah�s at Al-Madinah, 308, n., 327, 328 Exact place of the Prophet�s tomb, 322 The tombs of Abu Bakr and of Omar, 324 The future tomb of Sayyidna Isa, 326 Tombs of the father and mother of the Prophet, 351, n. Tomb of Mohammed, 359, 363 Attempted robbery of the tombs of Mohammed and of his two companions, 367 The tombs in the Hujrah visited by Al-Samanhudi, 368, n. The tomb of Aaron on Mount Ohod, 423 Hamzah�s tomb, 426 That of Abdullah bin Jaysh at Ohod, 428 Visit to the tombs of the saints of Al-Bakia, ii. 31, et seq. Tombs of Hagar and Ishmael at Meccah, 305 Burial-places of Adam, Abel, and Cain, 160, n. Tombs of celebrity at the cemetery of Meccah, 249, et seq. Eve�s tomb near Jeddah, 273 Tott, Inspector-General, i. 112, n. Trade and commerce, condition of, at Al-Madinah, ii. 8 The three vile trades of Moslems, 149, n. Trafalgar, Cape, i. 7 Remarks on the meaning of the word, 7, n. Travellers, idiosyncrasy of, 16 �Trees of Al-Madinah,� the celebrated, i. 286 Tripoli, i. 190 Tumar character, of Arabic, ii. 215 Tumbak tobacco, i. 66, n. Tunis, i. 190 Tur, the old Ph�nician colony on the Red Sea, i. 201 Terrible stories about the Badawin of, 201 The modern town, 202 The inhabitants of, 202 The delicious dates of, 204 [p.474] Tur, Jabal (Mount Sinai), i. 202 Turki pomegranates of Al-Madinah, i. 405 Turks on the pilgrimage, i. 191 Turkish Irregular Cavalry in the Deserts of Arabia, 249 Imbecility of their rule in Arabia, 257 Delenda est marked by Fate upon the Ottoman empire, 259, n. Probable end of its authority in Al-Hijaz, 259 Douceurs given by them to the Arab shaykhs of Al-Hijaz, 266 Their pride in ignoring all points of Arab prejudices, 304 Their difficulties in Arabia, 359 One killed on the march by an Arab, ii. 127 Their dangerous position in Al-Hijaz, 151, n. Turkish pilgrims at Meccah, author�s acquaintance with, 171 Tussun Bey, defeat of, by the Badawin, i. 262 Concludes a peace with Abdullah the Wahhabi, i. 370 Tutty (Tutiya), used in Al-Hijaz for the cure of ulcers, i. 390 UHAYHAH, of the Aus tribe, i. 351, n. Ukab, the bird so called, ii. 62 Ukayl bin Abi Talib, brother of Ali, his tomb, ii. 38, 44 Ulcers (Nasur) common in Al-Hijaz, i. 390 Antiquity of the disease in Arabia, 390 Death of Am al-Kays, the warrior and poet, 390 Mandate of Mohammed Abu (see Mohammed), 390 The Hijaz �Nasur,� and the Yaman ulcer, the �Jurh al-Yamani,� 390, n. Popular treatment of, 390 Umar ibn Fariz, poems of, i. 107, n. Umbrella, the sign of royalty, ii. 150, n., 196 Umrah (the little pilgrimage), ii. 281 The ceremonies of, 241, 292 et seq. Its situation, 341 Urdu, or camp of soldiers in Al-Hijaz, i. 394, n. Urtah, or battalion of soldiers, i. 394, n. Usbu, or seven courses round the Ka�abah, ii. 167, n Ustuwanat al-Ashab, or the Companions� column, at the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 326, n. Ustuwanat al-Mukhallak, or the perfumed pillar, 335 Ustuwanat al-Hannanah, or weeping pillar at the Prophet�s Mosque, 335 Ustuwanat al-Ayishah, or pillar of Ayishah, 335 Ustuwanat al-Kurah, or pillar of Lots, 335 Ustuwanat al-Muhajirin, or pillar of Fugitives, 335 Ustuwanat al-Abu Lubabah, or pillar of Lubabah or of repentance, 336 Ustuwanat al-Sarir, or pillar of the Cot, 336 Ustuwanat Ali, or column of Ali the fourth Caliph, 336 Ustuwanat al-Wufud, 336 Ustuwanat al-Tahajjud, where the Prophet passed the night in prayer, 336 Utaybah Badawin. Ferocity of, ii. 136, 144 Charged with drinking their enemies� blood, 136 Their stoppage of the Damascus Caravan, 143 Dispersed by Sharif Zayd 144 Utbah bin Abi Wakkas, the infidel, i. 430 Utum, or square, flat roofed, stone castles in Arabia, i. 347 VALLEYS in Arabia, longitudinal, transversal, and diagonal, i. 252 Vasco de Gama, his voyage to Calicut, i. 187, n. Vegetables of the plain of Al-Madinah, i. 404 Vena, common at Yambu�, i. 389 Treatment of, 389 [p.475] Venus, worship of, by the Hukama, ii. 162 Verdigris used in Arabia for the cure of ulcers, i. 390 Vertomannus Ludovicus, his pilgrimages to Meccah and to Al-Madinah, ii. 333, et seq. Victims, ceremonies of the Day of, ii. 202, et seq. Villages frequently changing their names, i. 245 Vincent on the Moors of Africa, i. 187, n. Vine of Al-Madinah, ii. 404 Visions in the East, ii. 184, n. Visits of ceremony after the Ramazan, i. 116 Of the middle classes in Egypt, 135, n. After a journey, 190 Volcanoes, traces of extinct, near Al-Madinah, ii. 61 WADY, the Arabian, i. 150, n. The Wady al-Ward (the Vale of Flowers), 150 Wady, al-Kura, town of, founded by the Jews, i. 347 The route from Al-Madinah to Meccah so called, ii. 58 Wady al-Subu, town of, founded by the Jews, i. 347 Wady, the Masjid al-, ii. 49 Wahhabis, aversion of to tobacco, i. 194, n. Ruinous effect of the wars between them, and the Egyptians, 254, n. Their defeat of Tussun Bey and 8000 Turks, 262 Their tenets, 306 Their opposition to Ali Bey, 306, n. Their rejection of the doctrine of the Prophet�s intercession, 318, n. Their dislike to onions, 357, n. And of Turkish rule in Al-Hijaz, 360 Their siege of Al-Madinah, 369 Defeated by Mohammed Ali at the battle of Bissel, ii. 89, n. Instance of their hatred of tobacco, 129, 142 Description of their march on the pilgrimage, 142 Their bravery, 143 Their appearance at the ceremonies of the day of Arafat, 193, n. Their destruction of the Chapel on Arafat, 193, n. Note on the ceremonies of the Wahhabi pilgrimage, 197, n. Their unsuccessful attack on Jeddah, 265, n. Wahshi, the slave, slays Hamzah, i. 433 Wahshi, Al-, the date so called, i. 401 Wahy, or Inspiration brought by the Archangel Gabriel from heaven, i. 333. n. Wa�iz in the Mosque, i. l00 Wakalah, or inn of Egypt, description of, i. 41 The Wakalah Khan Khalil of Cairo, 42 The Wakalah Jamaliyah, 42 Those of Al-Madinah, 392 The Wakalah Bab Salam, 392 The Wakalah Jabarti, 392 The, of Jeddah, ii. 266 Wakf, �bequeathed,� written in books, i. 340 Bought up by Mohammed Ali Pasha, 359, n. Abolished in Turkey, 359, n. Established by the Sultan Kaid Bey, 368 Wakil (or substitute), in pilgrimage, ii. 243 Wakin, Al-, or Al-Zahrah, the Harrah so called, i. 421, n. Walid, Al-,the Caliph, i. 327, n. Inventor of the mihrab and minaret, 361, n. His magnificent buildings at Al-Madinah, 364 Visits the Mosque in state, 366 Mosques built by him at Al-Madinah, ii. 48 Walis (holy men), of Alexandria, i. 12 [p.476] Wallin, Dr. George, of Finland, his visit to Meccah, i. 5, n. His death, 5, n. His Eastern name, Wali al-Din, 5, n. His remarks on the Arab tribes referred to, 145, n. His admiration of Badawi life, ii. 97 Walls of Al-Madinah, i. 391 �War of the Meal-sacks,� i. 275, n. War-dance (Arzah) of the Arabs, i. 419 Wardan and the Wardanenses, i. 30, n. Warkan, Jabal, one of the mountains of Paradise, i. 270, n. Wasitah, Al-. See Hamra, Al-, i. 253 Watches worn in Arabia, i. 166 Water-bags in the East, i. 24, 125 Value of water in the Desert, 149 Carried across the Desert to Suez, 158 Water-courses (Misyal) of Arabia, 250, 254 The water found in the Deserts of Arabia, 254 �Light� water, 338 Oriental curiosity respecting, 338 Manner of providing, at Al-Madinah, 381 Music of the water-wheels, 400 Quantity of, in the palm-gardens of Al-Madinah, 403 Purity of, throughout Al-Hijaz, ii. 194 Water-spout (Myzab) of the Ka�abah, ii. 304 Weapons of the Badawin, ii. 106 Weeping-pillar in Mohammed's Mosque, i. 335, 362, n. Weights, the, of Al-Madinah, i. 402, n. Welcome, the Oriental cry of, (Tahlil, or Ziralit), ii. 159 Well, Moses�, at Sinai, i. 204 Ancient wells at Aden, 204, n. Wells of the Indians in Arabia, i. 274, n. The Bir al-Aris at Kuba, 412 The pilgrim�s �Kayf� on the brink of, 412 Former and present number of wells of Al-Kuba, 414 The Saba Abar, or seven wells, 414 The Bir al-Nabi, 414, n. The Bir al-Ghurbal, 414, n. The Bir al-Fukayyir, 414, n. The Bir al-Ghars, 414, n. The Bir Rumah, or Kalib Mazni, 414, n. The Bir Buza�at, 414, n. The Bir Busat, 414, n. The Bir Bayruha, 414, n. The Bir Ihn, 415, n. The three wells of the Caliph Harun at Al-Ghadir, ii. 134 Wellington, Duke of, his remark on the means of preserving health in India, i. 264, n. West, Mr., sub-vice-consul at Suez, his kindness to the pilgrim, i. 169 Wijh Harbour, on the Red Sea, i. 214 The town, 215 Wilkinson, Sir Gardner, his observations on Egyptian passports, i. 18 Wind, the Samum, i. 149 The Sarsar, 151, n. The �poison-wind,� 265, n. The eastern wintry winds of Al-Madinah, 382 Wishah, the style of dress so called, ii. 139 Wives of the Prophet, tombs of, ii. 38 His fifteen wives, 38 Wolf�s tail (Dum i Gurg), the grey dawn, i. 154 Women, shrill cries of joy with which Arab women receive their husbands after returning from a journey, i. 357, ii. 154 Flirtation and love-making at festivals, i. 116 The public amusements allowed to Oriental women, 118 The death-wail, 118 An Armenian marriage, 123 Faults of Moslem ladies� dressing, 123, n. Condition of, in Egypt, at the present day, 175 The opprobrious term Misriyah, 175 Dress of the women of Yambu�, 229 The face-veil, 229 The lisam of Constantinople, [p.477] 229, n. Retired habits of the women at Al-Madinah, 297 Soft and delicate voices of the Somali women, 297 The Gynæconitis of Arab women, 298 Ablutions necessary after touching the skin of a strange woman, 298, n. A Persian lady�s contempt for boys, 303 The Bab al-Nisa, or women�s gate at Al-Madinah, 308 Disgrace of making a Moslemah expose her face, 365, n. The women of the farmer race of Arabs, 406 Tafl, or bole earth, eaten by them, 415 Women devotees at the Harim, 434 Women sometimes not allowed to join a congregation in Al-Islam, 434, n. Dress and customs of the Indian women settled at At-Madinah, ii. 6 Value of black slave-girls, 12 Price of a Jariyah Bayza, or white slave-girl, 13 Dress of the women of Al-Madinah, 15, 16 Their mourning dress, 16 Decency of the women of Al-Madinah, 19 Their pleasures, 20 Their bad language, 20 Arab marriages, 22, et seq. Unwillingness to name the wife among the Arabs, 84 And in other countries, 84, n. Uncomeliness of the women of Al-Hijaz, 85 Softening influences of the social position of the women among the Badawin, 90 Polygamy and monogamy compared, 91, n. The daughters of a higher clan of Arabs not allowed to marry into a lower, 92 Heroism of women, 94 The Arab oath, �by the honour of my women,� 94 Marriage ceremonies of the Badawin, 111 Frequency of divorces among them, 111 Dress of the Badawin women of Al-Hijaz, 116 Unchastity of the women of the Hitman tribe of Arabs, 121 Ejaculations of women when in danger of exposing their faces, 134, n. Strange dress of pilgrim women, 141 Wahhabi women on the pilgrimage, 142 Place for the female pilgrims in the Ka�abah, 309 The Kabirah, or mistress of a house, 160 How directed to perform the Sai, 288 Moslem prayers for the souls of women, 293 Superstitious rite on behalf of women at Arafat, 189 Manner of addressing respectable Moslem women, 190, n. An adventure with a fair Meccan, 197-199 The slave market of Meccah, 252 Appearance of the slaves, 252 �Wormwood of Pontus,� i. 155 Wounds, Badawin method of treating, i. 271, n., 389 Writing, Oriental, remarks on, i. 103 Skilful penmanship but little valued at the present day, 103, n. The Turkish ornamental character called �Suls,� 103, n. The Persian character, 103, n. The Egyptian and Arab coarse and clumsy hand, 104, n. The Mirza Sanglakh, 104, n. Writing and drawing generally disliked by Arabs, 240 Writing on noted spots, the practice both classical and Oriental, 432 Wuzu (the lesser ablution), i. 6, 77, 230 Wukuf, or standing upon Mount Arafat, Arab legend respecting, ii. 289, n. The pilgrim rites of, 289 Y.S., the chapter of the Koran, i. 366, n., 429 Yaman, Al-, tamarinds from, i. 180 Mountains of, 265, n. Coffee of, 290, n. The birthplace of the Aus and Kharaj, 348 Sufferings of the people of, from ulcers, 390 Mandate of the conqueror Mohammed Abu. See Mohammed, 390 Demoralisation of the Arabs of, ii. 107 Former horse trade of, 195, n. [p.478] Yambu�, tribes inhabiting the deserts about, i. 145 Yambu� al-Bahr (or Yambu� of the Sea), 225 The Iambia of Ptolemy, 225 The Sharif of Yambu�, 226 Description of the town, 226 Varieties of the population at, 228 An evening party at, 232 Strength of the walls and turrets of, 242 Attacked by Sa�ud the Wahhabi, 242 Jews settled in, 347, n. Diseases of, 389 Population of, 393, n. Yanbua of the palm grounds, i. 225 Yarab bin Kahtan bin Shalik bin Arkfakhshad bin Sam bin Nuh, descendants of, i. 348 Yasir bin Akhtah, plots against Mohammed, i. 358 Yasrib (now Al-Madinah), settled by fugitive Jews, i. 347 Yaum al-Tarwiyah, ii. 289 Description of, 178 Yaum al-Nahr (the day of throat-cutting), 202, 290 Yazid, son of the Caliph Mu�awiyah and his Badawi wife Maysunah, ii. 191, n. His contempt for his father, 191, n. Cursed by the disciples of the Shafe�i school, ii. 37 Yorke, Colonel P., i. 1 Yusuf, the Jewish �Lord of the Pit,� ii. 78, n. ZA�ABUT, i. 17, n. Zabit, or Egyptian police magistrate, i. 19 Scenes before, 119 The �Pasha of the Night,� 121 Zafar, the Masjid Benu, also called Masjid al-Baghlah, ii. 45 Zafaran Point, i. 196, n. Zaghritah, or cry of welcome, ii. 159 Zahra, or �bright blooming Fatimah,� i. 327, n. Zahrah, Al-, or Al-Wakin, the Harrah so called, i. 421, n. �Zairs,� visitors to the sepulchre of the Prophet, i. 305, n. Dress and perfumes of the Zairs, 309, n. Zakariya al-Ansari, his theological work. i. 106, n. Zamakhshari, Al-, his grammatical adventures, ii. 98, n. Zananire, Antun, visit to his harim, i. 122 Zarb al-Mandal, the magical science so called in Egypt, i. 388, n. Zaribah, Al-, description of the plain of, ii. 138 Zarka, of Yamamah, story of, referred to, i. 181, n. Zat al-Rika�a, the expedition so called, i. 155, n. Zat al-Salasil (the �Affair of Chains�), ii. 89, n. Zat Nakhl, or �place of palm trees� (Al-Madinah), i. 346 Zawiyah, or oratory, of Mohammed al-Samman, i. 426 Zawwar, or visitors to the tomb of the Prophet, i. 329, n. Zayd, Sharif, his bravery, ii. 144 Disperses the Utaybah robbers, 144 Zaydi sect, ii. 307, n. Zayn al-Abidin, prayers for, i. 328 Tomb of, ii. 40 Zaynab, wife of the Prophet, i. 365, n. Zemzem, the holy well of the Mosque of the Prophet, i. 6, 70, 331 Its supposed subterranean connection with the great Zemzem at Meccah, 338 Rows of jars of the water at the Mosque of Meccah, ii. 297 Description of the building enclosing the well, 309 The Daurak, or earthen jars, for cooling the water, 310, n. Doubtful origin of the word, 162 Esteem in which the water is held, 163 Its qualities, 163 How transmitted to distant regions, 163 Superstitions respecting it, 164 [p.479] Zemzemi, or dispenser of the water of the holy well at Meccah, ii. 125 Ali bin Ya Sin, the zemzemi, 125 Zemzemiyah, or goat-skin water-bag, i. 24 Zikrs, or Darwaysh forms of worship, in Egypt, i. 86 Ziyad bin Abihi, his destruction of robbery in Basrah, i. 258, n. Ziyafah, Bab al-, or gate of hospitality, of Al-Madinah, i. 391 Ziyarat, or visitation, of the Prophet�s Mosque, i. 305, 319 Distinction between Ziyarat and the Hajj Pilgrimage, 305 Where the ceremony begins, 307, n. How regarded by the Maliki school, 311, n. The visitation to Kuba on the 17th Ramazan, 408, n. Ziyarat al-Wida�a, or �Farewell Visitation,� ii. 55 The ceremony of the visit to the Prophet�s tomb, 292 �Ziyaratak,� or �blessed be thy visitation,� the benediction, i. 331 Zubaydah Khatun, wife of Harun al-Rashid, ii. 58 Her celebrated Pilgrimage, 136, n. Zu�l Halifah, the Mosque, i. 279, n. Also called the �Mosque of the tree,� 279, n., 364 Its distance from Al-Madinah, 379 Zuyud schismatics, ii. 6