We had passed over about eighteen miles of ground; and our present direction was South-west twenty degrees of Al-Sufayna.

At half-past ten that evening we heard the signal for

Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah — Part 77

[p.132] departure, and, as the moon was still young, we prepared for a hard night’s work. We took a south-westerly course through what is called a Wa’ar—rough ground covered with thicket. Darkness fell upon us like a pall. The camels tripped and stumbled, tossing their litters like cockboats in a short sea; at times the Shugdufs were well nigh torn off their backs. When we came to a ridge worse than usual, old Mas’ud would seize my camel’s halter, and, accompanied by his son and nephew bearing lights, encourage the animals with gesture and voice. It was a strange, wild scene. The black basaltic field was dotted with the huge and doubtful forms of spongy-footed camels with silent tread, looming like phantoms in the midnight air; the hot wind moaned, and whirled from the torches flakes and sheets of flame and fiery smoke, whilst ever and anon a swift-travelling Takht-rawan, drawn by mules, and surrounded by runners bearing gigantic mashals or cressets,[FN#7] threw a passing glow of red light upon the dark road and the dusky multitude. On this occasion the rule was “every man for himself.” Each pressed forward into the best path, thinking only of preceding his neighbour. The Syrians, amongst whom our little party had become entangled, proved most unpleasant companions: they often stopped the way, insisting upon their right to precedence. On one occasion a horseman had the audacity to untie the halter of my dromedary, and thus to cast us adrift, as it were, in order to make room for some excluded friend. I seized my sword; but Shaykh Abdullah stayed my hand, and addressed the intruder in terms sufficiently violent to make him slink away. Nor was this the only occasion on which my

Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah — Part 77

[p.133] companion was successful with the Syrians. He would begin with a mild “Move a little, O my father!” followed, if fruitless, by “Out of the way, O Father of Syria[FN#8]!” and if still ineffectual, advancing to a “Begone, O he!” This ranged between civility and sternness. If without effect, it was supported by revilings to the “Abusers of the Salt,” the “Yazid,” the “Offspring of Shimr.” Another remark which I made about my companion’s conduct well illustrates the difference between the Eastern and the Western man. When traversing a dangerous place, Shaykh Abdullah the European attended to his camel with loud cries of “Hai! Hai[FN#9]!” and an occasional switching. Shaykh Abdullah the Asiatic commended himself to Allah by repeated ejaculations of Ya Satir! Ya Sattar[FN#10]!

Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah — Part 77