Chapter 15 of Southern Arabia. Southern Arabia. By James and Mabel Bent. Chapter 15. Retribution for our foes. We reached Gahail Babwazir in three hours, at half-past five, passing through several Oasis. It is a large town. Some children, as I came round a corner, cried, Let us flee! Here is a demon! I freaked. 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 our hospitality, no coffee was brought, not even water, and when our servants asked for water and wood, show us first-year money was the answer they got. We had a very public visit from the governor, who was 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 HaMami Mohamed, who shot at us a prisoner, and his Jambia, or as they say in Southern Arabia, Gahambia, 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 Talab, 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 Shahir with us on the morrow. Gahail 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 connected by channels cut in the rock in various directions. Courses 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 Ammar, and before that time all this part was waste ground. This fertilizing spring rises under a hill to the east, where a large reservoir has been cut out. Locals on the hill are some Arab ruins, places where things were stored, and there was a road up. Canals cut some twenty feet deep, like the Canats of Persia, conduct the water to the fields. The chief product is tobacco, known as Haumalmi 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 orderkeeper, who flourished her stick at us and bet us be gone, we were able to get a peep, forbidden to males, at the blushing bride.  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.  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 twenty-ninth we set out for Shahir, or Shahur, 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. Mathias, the gibiri, and the soldiers, surrounded the prisoner Muhammad, 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 Shahir, we should take ship for Aten, and many were the plans made for vengeance upon Sala, once he was safe in our clutches on board that ship.  If the safety of our lives could in any way be guaranteed, we would be taking only Nurah, 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 Gahail Bab was ear. 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 Haumalmi had attacked a caravan and killed nine men, taking eighty camels and two thousand rupees. They must have had a Sierra, though, from some tribe. Each tribe has its fixed tariff. The Haumalmi have twenty-seven dollars, the Jabiri seventy, the Ta-mini, one hundred, etc., and when this sum is paid, if you have only one of each tribe with you, you are safe. Then we had gone two-thirds of our way. We reached a palm-shadowed village called Sarapha. Here we went into a house to eat our luncheon, and obtained some coffee, which had to be prepaid. We reached Shahir 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 crafts 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 fifty feet by thirty 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 lance with lusters. We waited wearily, nearly an hour, while the Sultan Hussein Mia and his brother, Sultan Gahalab 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 him in 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 Salah of Shabam, and my husband requested leave to make a camp. Sultan Hussein looked around 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 daresay 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 sati, 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 veranda 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 defenses 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 retake ourselves to our suffocating room to find the flies wide awake. We had to use our mosquito curtains by day on their account. In Shabam the mosquitoes are awake by day only, and at Adan both by day and night. Imam Shireef found great favor 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 Shabam did us far more good than the letter from the Wally of Adan. 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. Muhammad, who had shot at us, and Allah, 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 Shahir 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 Jabiri, 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 Shabam. 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 hand, 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 Salah did assurededly, his very utmost 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 guilt present made for him, he heard of our vain inquiries for a non-existent jeweler, and earnestly begged that we would do no such thing. He loved the English, and only asked that my husband would mention him favorably to the English government. And this favorable 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 favorably disposed towards ourselves, and capable of inspiring respect in others, instead of a little clerk aged twenty from a coal office, a fanatical Muslim who aided his employers, we should have been in a much better position, and have been able to pass on from the Jabiri to the Hamami, whereas traveling with the Jabiri through the Hamami country, we had to encounter their enemies as well as our own. Shahir is a detestable place by the sea, set in a wilderness of sand, once it was the chief commercial port of the Hadramat Valley, but now Makala has quite superseded it. For Shahir is nothing but an open roadstead with a couple of bagalas, belonging to the family of al-Kahiti, which generally have to go to Hami to shelter, and its buildings are now falling into ruins, since the Qatiri 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 lentils to doors. We tried to buy some, but could not. They have texts from the Quran 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. Great 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 mug buys of various shapes which they put in it, especially during Ramadan they are encouraged to play at mosques. And the lamps are lit up every evening. It is three feet high and three 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 guardhouses on each side, and various quaint weapons and powder flasks hung upon it. Gehalib, the eldest son and heir of the chief of the Al-Katiri family, ruled here as the vice-chairman of his father, who is in India as gemadar, or general, of the Arab troops, nearly all had to be in the service of the Nizam of Hyderabad. Gehalib was quite an oriental dandy who lived a life of some rapidity when in India, so that his father thought it well to send him to rule in Shahir, 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 Shahir, he sends his dirty linen and dows to Bombay to be washed. He was exceedingly good to us, and as we wanted to go along the coast for about 80 miles to get a sight of the mouth of the Hyderabad valley near Sehut, where it empties itself into the Indian Ocean, he arranged that the chief of the dreaded Halmami tribe should personally escort us so that there might be no further doubt about our safety. Sultan Hussein had married a daughter of Sultan Sala two years before when she was 11 years old. The Al-Qa'iti family have bought up property all around the town and talked of laying out streets and bringing water to Shahir. We heard that one brother had to leave all his share in money and had 22 lakhs of rupees, about 150,000 pounds. We became very tired of Shahir before we finally left, having to stay a week while arrangements were made for our onward way, and on account of Ramadan no communication 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, waking 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 Halmami, Shahir being quite on the frontier. There is a round black basaltic mountain which they call the Halmami Mountain. The Halmami tribe occupy nearly all the mountainous district east of Shahir between the Hattremount Valley and the Sea, and they are reported to be very powerful. Next to them come the tribe of the Mara. Even Sultan Gahalab himself cannot ride far out of his capital unprotected because the Halmami are his foes. We tried to get leave to go to Sahut in the Mari country, but that was impossible, and at last it really was settled that we should go to Bir Borhat and Cabrahoud. 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 Asiyarra 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 Cabrahoud and that the time occupied for the journey would now be 31 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 Borhat and Cabrahoud that year. It was to have cost a $670 at seven to the pound sterling. By the way, Maria Teresa dollars are always spoken of as reals. You have to buy them deer, 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 or any dirty ones or any that are 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 civilization, 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 Adam and our returned Adam. We next settled to go to Mosina along the coast and still to start on the appointed day. Therefore, we were up betimes.  It was not certain till four o'clock that no camels were coming. No one could do anything as a sultan had no power beyond his own dominions and the camelmen were all foreigners. However, next morning seven camels came and we were quickly on the road causing great terror to the grabs. When I say the road, I mean the sand at low tide. We had the chief of all the Hamami 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 Shahar till we should return in peace. We also had the governor of Kosier with us, as well as men of the various little tribes whose country we were to traverse as Asiara. The camels and Asiara cost $12. The camels were hired by the job 12 days so it would not pay them to dawdle. We had told the sultans how Salah 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 Shahar. 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. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 of Southern Arabia This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ken Masters Southern Arabia by James and Mabel Bent Chapter 16 The Hadramot 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 Garid 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 Richard Hamlet consisting of a few arbors and a well, whose waters were 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 fertilized 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 incestation 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 coconut 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 sulphurous stream makes the crops grow prodigiously, and we walked through fields of jawary 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 Muller 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 rouse 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 twenty or thirty 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 these specimens and their transport to say nothing of the responsibility for his safety. Still my husband and I often wished we knew more of the geology than we did. When the geologist does visit these parts he must make a special bargain with his camelmen, not based on his apparent, present, visible luggage, 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 jabbery the man whose camel carried the botanical boxes positively refused to load up on account of having seen stones with lesion 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 yet dis, but a sudden oasis of fertility caused by a hail, 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 sterres. 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. They were perpetual shouts for the woman to come out. On this part of the journey, as well as in the Hadramout, I was always simply spoken of as the Horma of which the plural is 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 coconut containing a supply of this toilet requisite for the purpose. Most of them affect red-played cotton turbines 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 Haida, and went somewhat out of our way to see a rock with bitumen or asphalt 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 around 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 camelmen. 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 a 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. They're only impedimenta when they move.  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 traveled in our tent from dis before it could do us harm. That day one of the Bedouin 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 Caussière, eleven 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, mad repores, sponges, and flamingos 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 Caussière in the middle, caused us to mount onto the rocks some little distance before reaching Caussière, and when we got quite near we sat on a rocky hillock, contemplating the town and awaiting our kafile 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 heil, baboisier, and other places. The governor was a very thin old man, very like Don Quixote. His scanty hair and beard died 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 ruthless 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 yets, 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. They 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 Kossia 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 Hamumi Sultan was with us, of course, otherwise there would have been no safety for us beyond Kossia. We had a dreadful experience passing the village of Sarar. 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 Sarar only consists of three large mud houses and a good many bamboo shanties. We were amused by a man whom we met alone, whose terror of us was so great. As we approached he lit his match, got his gun already, 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 Ikthi-Apejoi here prefer their fish generally in a decayed state, and one of our Hamumi soldiers had a treat of lizards, which he popped in the fire to roast an eight-hole. We did not get much farther eastward that year, with 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 Mosena, to which we were supposed to be going that day, and another in a cave quite close to Mosena. When we reached the riverbed 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 Mosena the 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 Hamumi 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 Mosena on the Akaba, that there is no water near, no village at Mosena, no means of getting forage. So, as in that case, far the progress was useless, as well as impossible. We proposed to return the following day to Qasir, helping ourselves, if possible, with a boat from Raida. It took us three hours to return to Raida, where an old sehid took us into his house and led us to a little clean room, ten feet by six 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 salehassan 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 dow, the masters would not have interfered. It is fifteen miles from Raida to Qasir, we were quite determined after the severe lesson we had had two days previously to go windward of Sarah. 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, Shiloh, to make him gallop away amid screams of delight. I daresay these women had never seen a horse. The sultans at Cher had only three. We had already sent Zubda back to Al-Khatan. 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 Sarah 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 Kossier about half past five, warmly welcomed by Don Cioti, who gave us coffee while awaiting our Khalifa, 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 Hakmumi chief choosing the eve 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, wise and old gentleman with us on a camel, two hours, six miles up the Wadi Shirwan to see a ruin at the village of Marbe, 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 forty feet in diameter, built of round water-worn stones set in very strong cement, dating from the same period as those at Kyle Babwazia. Evidently the medieval 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 Ginni 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 Ginni, or Ginni as they are called in Southern Arabia, was bringing this to help to build the fort when he was met by another Ginni, who said, Why do you bring stones when the fort is finished? So he dropped it in disgust. Ginni 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. Marba nestles under a big pointed rock on the highland, which sticks up a loft, and to which we heard that the caffers used to tie their horses. Bottles were stuck into the graves as ornaments, and built onto the tops of buildings. We rested beneath a bedome tree, which showered its little fruits on us, and made as many inquiries as possible in a crowd of sterres who were all very polite. We heard that Wadi Shikavi is the end of Wadi Mosila. It runs parallel to, and is almost as large as, the Wadi Hadramout. Chael 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. End of Chapter 16 The Hadramout Coasting Eastward by Land Recording by Ken Masters Chapter 17 Of Southern Arabia This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ken Masters Southern Arabia By James and Mabel Bent Chapter 17 The Hadramout Coasting Westward by Sea Though we rose so early next morning that we dressed by candlelight, 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. Kindle, Don Quixote, and many others walked with us a mile to Raz-Diz, where we were to embark. This is the harbour of the town of Kosir. Raz-Diz is not near Diz, as Raz-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 Raz-Diz, and near it are two Wali's, or Sheik's, tombs, which afford perfectly safe storeplaces to the fishermen. All their gear, anchors, ropes, sails, wood, fish, and whatnot, are heaped round the tombs, and none dare touch them. Having been carried into a filthy boat, we scrambled into a sambuca, crammed and stuffed with the baggage. Eight passengers, including the Afghan interpreter. There was a little deck three feet by four feet at its widest, where Imam Sharif and I were packed, the steersmen sitting in a little angle, leaning against my gaiters. About ten o'clock, Matthias 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 husbands and mine. We had nothing but a little halwa, sweet meat, 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 born 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 to me at twelve, there having been some difficulty as regarded breakfast. The horse, donkeys, camels, Sierra 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 Mohammedism 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 Makala, but the ship had come at last and we were able to leave. Hussein Mir and Galeb Mir took leave of us with such friendliness and hopes of seeing us the following year, which they did. Mir 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 coconuts, 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 belongings 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.  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 amid ships, 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, lishiny 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 Sale had taken care of himself. There were two sharp oyes or stretches tied one to each side of this little deck, and we determined that Imam Sharif should have one, and the botanist the other. Sale's things were settled on the ladder. I at once ousted them and lay down till the proper occupant appeared, looking evidently anxious to assume a recumbent position. Sale 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. Lund has my place. Your place, I said? How did you get a place? I told the Nakoda 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. Lund to sleep? No. Well, remember that Mr. Bent is master on board this ship, and I am a mistress. I said, I have given that bed to Mr. Lund, 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 Sale began to take a back seat. He was positively afraid to be among the servants. Any excitement at sea is welcome, and we now began to take a great interest in him and Mahmud. We were anxious as to whether they would be seasick or not. You might wonder why we cared, but this is the reason. If they were seasick 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. Mahmud soon broke down and rejoiced greatly thereafter, but Sale 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 Makala at sunrise the following morning, east to Sunday, March 25th.  Sale 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 it 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 prospect 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 massagerie 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. After returning from our expedition to the Hadhramut in 1894, we determined the next winter to attempt the ambitious adventure of making a journey over land right across southern Arabia from Muscat to Aden. On our way, we hoped to revisit the Hadhramut, which was the place where we were going to visit. We were also going to visit the Hadhramut, and we hoped to revisit the Hadhramut, to explore those portions which we had been compelled to leave and visited 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, is 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-joining, the traveler generally loses the most interesting details. My husband again, to our great satisfaction, had Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur, placed at his disposal, and 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 transship, we picked up our camp furniture which we had deposited there on our return from Wadi Hadhramut. 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 Sindhe. This was very delightful to us as we had already stayed in Reynolds Hotel when on our way to Persia. Mathaios had absolutely refused to come with us for fear we should carry out a great wish of going to Birbarhut and indeed the very name of Arabia was odious to him. Of course, being in India, we had to take two men in his place and accordingly engaged two Goanis, half Portuguese, one Diego S. Analobo, a little old man, as battler 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 mascot with Captain Whitehead on British India's team navigations 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 around 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 Akhtar and then to pass through the territory of the Geneva tribe to Goubet al-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 impossible to Europeans. We could not procure any information about our journey to the Jebel Akhtar as it does not appear to be the fashion at Mascot to go inland. However, both our old friend the Sultan Faisul and Colonel Sadler took into any trouble to arrange for our journey. Camels were hired and a horse for me and the sheiks 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 then explore the Dofar and Gara mountains. The Sultan offered us the use of his Batil which was preparing to go to Zengiber as they call San Zibar. 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 3 days and we might take 7 days or more over the voyage. However we were delivered from this long voyage for unexpectedly a steamer arrived most opportunity for us. As it was not the pilgrim season and as there was no color about we ventured on this steamer which is one of those that ply under the Turkish flag between the Persian Gulf and Jeddah. 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 Muscat 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 Korea-Muria islands they are inhabited by the Jenefa tribe who pursue sharks swimming on inflated skins. On Thursday we passed Vericure Yucinery Ahay Akaba just like the Hadhramut 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 Libot 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 Katira and Jolly boat. Merbat which is 64 miles from Muscat is the first point of the Dofar district after the long stretch of desert has been passed.  It is built on a tongue of land which affords shelter for Arab dows during the northeast 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 imagine 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 Hasan and I joyfully hastened thither. Unfortunately, we had no recommendation to the headman 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 round about 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 headmen. But at last they approached us in a more friendly spirit begged our pardon and stated 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 cost 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 dow 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 neighboring markets for disposal. Personally I suspect the latter was the true reason of their aversion to our presence for the coast from here to Muscat has a bad reputation in this respect and just lately Arab slave dows have been carrying on their trade under cover of protection obtained from France at Obok and Zanzibar. The inhabitants have plated hair and nab carries I believe they belong to the Geneva tribe. Finding Marbat so uncongenial and abode with no points of interest and with the 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 wondering about in search of interests which did not exist we came to terms with a captain of a most filthy baghalla to take us along the coast to Alhafa 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 40 miles to Alhafa but owing to adverse winds it took exactly 2 days to perform this voyage and our boat was one of the dirtiest of the kind we have ever traveled 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 sulphurious vapors these pungent odors 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 Alhafa 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 dow is a picturesque abode with its pretty carvings we were 25 souls on board and our captain and his crew being devout Muhammadans we had plenty of time and opportunity for studying their numerous prayers and ablutions the plain of the far along which we were now coasting is quite an abnormal feature in this arid coast it is the only fertile stretch between Aden and Mascat 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 harbors during the north east monsoons dowes 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 roads with the surf always rolling in from the indian ocean the plain is never more than 9 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 tall coconut palms adorned in clusters and long stretches of bright green fields refresh the eye and at frequent intervals with soft 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 namely the plantain the papaya, mulberries, melons chilies, brinjals 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 his customary all along this coast every dow paying this toll in return for the privilege of obtaining water when they wanted 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 coastline exciting rumors had reached the ears of colonel miles a former political agent at muscat concerning lakes and streams and fertility unwanted for arabia which existed in these mountains and their appetites were consequently wetted for their discovery in ancient times this was one of the chief sources of the time honored frankincense trade which still maintains itself here even more than in the Hadramut it is carried on by the Bedouin of the gara tribe who bring down the odoriferous gum from the mountains on camels about nine thousand hundred weight of it is exported to Bombay annually down by the coast at Alhafa 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 Hatassu's expeditions to the land of Punt the actual libeniferous country is perhaps now not much bigger than the Isle of Right and in its physical appearance not unlike it got 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 Theoprastus and the 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 Alhafa a very man had his castle only a stone's throw from the beach our landing was performed in small hide-covered boats especially constructed for riding over the surf and was not completed without a considerable wetting to ourselves and baggage after so many preliminaries comforts a cordial welcome from the valley was doubly agreeable he placed the room on the roof spread with carpets our disposal and he furnished our larder with the 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 a roof we enjoyed pleasant views over the fertile plain in the Gara mountains which we had now every hope of penetrating we looked down into his courtyard below and saw their many interesting faces of Arab life Alhafa is 640 miles from Asqat in one direction and 800 from Aden in the other it is therefore about as far as possible from any civilized 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 Asqat to Aden there is not a single tribe paying tribute to or having any communication with the Ottoman port really Alhafa and the Dufar were ruled over autocratically by Wali Suleyman who was sent out there about 18 years before as governor at the request of the feud-torn inhabitants by Sultan Turkey of Asqat in his small way Wali Suleyman was a man of great capacity a man who has made history and could have made more if his spear had been larger in his youth he was instrumental in placing Turkey 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 about the 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 Suleyman 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 12 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 Marri tribe the Casus belli being a land of ambergris which the Marri had appropriated though it had been washed up on the Dofar 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 neighboring ruins of the ancient capital of the frankincest country and really intended for a trough after convicted of stealing his master's sword and selling it to the captain of Bedou had his feet attached to an iron bar which made his locomotion exceedingly painful a Mola 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 supposeminute 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 from the well in the center 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 Wally's little boy five years of age, who rumbled about among them. Goats, kids, cocks, and hens also occupied this courtyard, and the big white she asked, the only representative of the equine race, as far as we could see in Dofar, on which Wally Suleyman 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 Wally's harem paid me frequent visits, and brought me presents of fruit and embarrassing plates of food, and substances to dye my teeth red, tumble 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 other clothing. 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 burkas on their faces, and had on a great deal of coarse jewelry with mock pearls and bad turquoise's. 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 Wally's family. His eldest son was paralyzed and bedridden, and he had adapted as heir to his position in the far and nephew, who lived in a separate wing of the castle, and had his separate harem establishment. Besides this, the Wally 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 Wally Suleyman by Sultan Torki 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 Sanzibar. 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 Mufak, the younger boy, a bright dear little fellow, very much darker than his brother, in fact, nearly black, is far more heart-rending. About two years before, his mother also a slave and African, was convicted of misconduct, and on her was visited the extremist 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 weed and petted by all. At one time they amused themselves with the prisoners in the courtyard.  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. Tasi turned and a few words, but is 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 Alhafa, and gave us into their charge. We agreeing to pay for their escort, their protection, and the use of their camels affixed some per diem in Maria Teresa Dollars, the only coin recognized in the country. Such plovering there was over this stupendous piece of diplomacy. Wali Suleiman and the Gara sheiks 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 Dofar. The Wali, his nephew, and Arab concilers, smoked their narguiles complacently, whilst the Gara Bedouin took weaves at their little pipes, which they cut out of soft limestone that hardens in the air, and all drunk 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 their fate from a roof with no small amount of impatience. Before starting for the mountains, we wondered hither and thither over the plain of Dofar 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 coconut palm grows admirably here, and we had many refreshing drops of the water contained in the nuts during our hot rides, and in pools beneath the trees, the fiber of the nuts is placed to rot for making ropes, giving out an odor very similar to that of the flaxseeds in the north of Ireland. Between capes Resout and Merbat, we found the sites of ruined towns of considerable extent in no less than seven different points. Though at the two capes were 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 neighborhood 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 Taka, as we shall presently see, there was a very extensive and deep harbor running a considerable distance inland, which, with the 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 Albalad and Rabat, about two miles east of the Wally'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 Albalad, 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 center, still connected with the sea, but almost silted up, is a tiny harbor. The ground is covered with the remains of a Muhamedan mosque, and still more ancient Sabeyan temples, the architecture of which, namely, the square columns with flutings at the four corners and the steplike capitals, at once connects them architecturally with the columns at Adulis on the Red Sea, those of Kolo'e and Aksum in Nabissinia, and those described by Massur Arnod at Mariaba in Yemen. In some cases, these are decorated with intricate patterns, one of which is formed by the old Sabeyan letters, and Aks, which may possibly have some religious import, after seeing the ruins of Adulis and Kolo'e, 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 Kolo'e, there were no inscriptions which could materially assist us, this may be partly accounted for by the subsequent Muhamedan 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 Albalad by the sea is connected by a series of ruins with another town two miles inland, now called Rabat, 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 sprangers Alte Geography Arabians, the best guidebook the traveler can take into this country. There is no difficulty in identifying this ancient capital of the Frankincense country as the Temple of Artemis of Claudius Ptolemy. This name is obviously a Greek translation of the Zabean for some well-known oracle, which anciently existed here not far as Ptolemy himself tells us from Capri's suit. This name eventually became Zufar, from which the modern name of the far is derived. In the year of the Lord 618, the town was destroyed and Mansura built, under which name the capital was known in early Muhammedan times. Various Arab geographers also assist us in this identification. Yaqut, 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 Battuta says that half a day's journey east of Mansura is Alakhaf, the Bode of the Adites, probably referring to the site of the oracle and the last stronghold of the ancient cult. Sprangers 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 comparing 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 center of commerce has been obtained. The ruins at Al-Balad and Rabat were last inhabited during the Persian occupation about the time of the Crusades, 500 of the Hejira. They utilized the old Himyarite 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 floor-delease pattern and the bases decorated with the 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 onto 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, especially beautiful was a very luxuriant creeper called by the inhabitants Asalib. 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 Albalad, we stopped to rest under some coco palms and stones and other missiles were flung up by our guides so the coconuts came showering down in rather a terrifying way. The men then stuck their gut riffs 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. End of Chapter 18, Recording by Shana Sear, Fresno, California Chapter 19 of Southern Arabia This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Southern Arabia by James and Mabel Bent Chapter 19, The Gara Tribe We left Alhafa 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 packed 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 of our boxes, straps, raw hydrangems 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 were as fillets round their hair to tie round the camel's 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 sacs 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 run 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 the far 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 Kay by the gara, and Oma 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 neighbors who come here to purchase. My husband Imam Sharif and I had each a seat on a separate loaded camel, with Arezais 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 Risut, where some very dirty water was to be obtained under a rock. We passed some ruins with columns four miles west of Alhafa at Awkad. The approach to the mountains is up narrow gullies full of frankincense trees. We had a stormy and quarrelsome start next day, after a delay caused by my husband's camels sitting down constantly and unexpectedly, and the stoppage because two possible enemies being described, 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 Dawali at Alhafa. In the end, they began quarreling 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 amphitheater of mountains. We went up a lovely gorge with ferns, trees, and the running stream, as different as possible to the aridity of the Hadramut. 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 traveled an hour and a half, having gone round some spurs, and found ourselves in around the 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 ball rushes, 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. Dagara, in whose country we were now, are a wild pastoral tribe of the mountains, traveling over them hither and thither in search of food for their flocks. They are troglodytes of a genuine kind, and know no homes 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 the far in the rainy season for pasture age. There is a curious story connected with the Dagara tribe, which probably makes them unique in Arabia, and that is that a few years ago they owned a white sheik. About the beginning of this century, an American ship was wrecked on this coast, and all the occupants were killed saved 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 sheik of all the dagaras. 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 young boy must have been as thrilling and interesting as any novelist could desire, and it is a great pity that the white sheik could not have been personally interviewed before his death, which occurred over 20 years ago. Sprenger supposes that the tribal name Gara or Kara corresponds to the ancient asites whom Ptolemy places on this coast, but as the asites 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 kare mentioned in the campaign of Ielius Galus 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, gob, of wood or shark's skin, deep and with a wooden knob at the center, so that when they are tired and want a rest, they can turn it round and utilize it as a stool. The second is a flat iron sword with a wooden handle, actually made in Germany, for we saw a dow arrive from Sanzibar whilst we were at Tofar, 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 neighbors 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 scubboards 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 specially hard wood called miet, which grows in the mountains. It is about a yard long and pointed at both ends. It is called gatrif. The gara are wonderfully skillful 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, much luck class. In fact, they do not seem to covet the possession of firearms, as our friends in the Hadramut did the year before. Every man clutched the sword and gatrif in one hand very tightly, as there was nothing to prevent their sleeping 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, kaya. In Machonaland, I have seen people walking on narrow paths only suited to people who have never learned to turn out their toes, all overhang 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 marocco 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 garras, far wilder in every way than the Bedouin of the Hadramut, inasmuch as they have far less contact with civilization. The Bedouin 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 the 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 the 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 vigor. 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 sheiks, we are not slaves, and at the same time they paid the greatest deference to their chief, the old Sheikh Seher, and expected us to do the same. Sheikh Seher was the head of the Bait Al-Kathan, which is the chief of the many families into which the Gara tribe is divided, and consequently he was recognized as the chief of all the Garas. He was a wisened, very average-looking old man, who must have been close upon seventy, and though he owned five hundred head of cattle and seventy camels, he dressed his old bones in nothing-save-alloying cloth, and his matted gray 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 Seher stop to rectify the discomfort, for he was the sheik of all the Garas, as he constantly repeated, and his dignity was not to be trifled with. The seventeen sheiks 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 the large company of the Al-Katan 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 these 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. Duggers 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 neighboring 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 Wally Suleyman 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 among stem arose a stern, freezing reply. You must return to Alhafa. We can travel no more with you, as Theodore has kicked chic Sehal, 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 imperial both our safety and the further progress of our journey. So we affected to take the matter as a joke, laughed heartily, patted chic Sehal 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 guise again, he would never kick his majesty any more. It was surprising to see how soon the glam faces relaxed, and how soon all ill-feeling was forgotten. In a very few minutes life and bustle, chattering and good humor reigned in our camp, and we were excellent friends again. It was on the third day after leaving Alhafa, 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 the far. 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 Spoma 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 Garam Mountains where the trees 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 Mari Country, as they produce an inferior quality, are not now tapped at all. The best is obtained at spots called Hoye Enhazki, about four days' journey inland from Erbat, where the Garam Mountains slope down into the Nej Desert. The second inequality comes from near Cape Resout, and also a little farther west at a place called Chishen, near Rakhiut, frankincense of a marketable quality, is obtained. But that farther west in the Mari 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 weight 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 Garam Mountains are impossible. The trees belong to the various families of the Garat Tribe. Each tree is marked and known to its owner, and the product is sold wholesale to Banyan merchants who come to the far 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 Sabayan merchants who liked to keep the monopoly of this drug, told wonderful stories of the phoenix which guarded the trees, of the insolubrity of the climate, and of the deadly vapors 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 Moschia, 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 Ielius Gallus was sent to Arabia by Augustus in his unsuccessful campaign was to discover where Arabian gold and frankincense came from. Early Arabian authors are far more explicit, and we gather from MacCreecy, Ibn Khaldun, and others, something more definite about Dofar 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 Dofar and its productions for Camões in his 10th Lucia, 716, writes, or Dofar's plain, the richest incense breathes. But not until Dr. Carter coasted along here some 50 years ago, was it definitely known that this was the chief locality in Arabia which produced the drug. Mir II grows in large quantities in the Gaara range, and we obtained specimens of it in close proximity to the frankincense tree. The gum of the Mir III is much rather than ordinary gum Arabic, whereas the frankincense gum is considerably whiter. The commerce of Dofar must have been exceedingly rich in those ancient days, as is evidenced by the size and extent of the Sabejan ruins on the plain. They are the most easterly ruins which have been found in Arabia of the Sabejan 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 traveling trunk broken to pieces, and the contents scattered right and left, and some treasured objects of jewelry 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 sack full for two riyals. Our new supply of rope was made of aloe fiber, 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 garras were always cutting off short beats 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 Shiksehel 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 Marri 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 Alhafa.