The people here are all Shias, and very fanatical, and Seyd Abbas as a descendant of the Prophet enjoys a high position among them. Among the Ánazeh and Shammar, the Bedouins think nothing of saints and seyyids, but here they have everybody at their feet. Bashaga, the Sheykh, though a Beni Laam and, as such, a “gentleman,” is not nearly so important as the old man in the green turban. The latter has been talking to me this morning and promises to take us to Mizban’s camp, if we insist on going, though he advises strongly not. He says that with him we shall be safe, as they also have a great respect for Seyyids, and besides he has married into Mizban’s family. Seyyid or not, he eats and drinks with us freely; so we feel a certain amount of confidence in him.
Wilfrid has returned triumphant. He was not more than two hours and a half away, and he has killed five boars and a sow. Ariel behaved wonderfully, following the pigs without any need of urging, and without flinching when they charged. It seems to have been splendid sport. Amongst the victims was the old boar that had been seen asleep, and which charged most viciously. It is lucky the dogs were not taken, as they would certainly have got hurt. The Arabs are highly delighted at the result, and we hope it may put us on better terms with them. They have dragged one of the corpses, a disgusting object, to the bank of the river, intending, they say, to send it to the British Resident at Bagdad by the next steamer. No news, alas, of the camels.
_March_ 23.—A fearful storm in the night, and the whole place under water. Wilfrid went out early to try and get news of the camels, riding Job, the grey horse we bought of Col. Nixon. He did not get far, for the streams are so swollen that they are impassable, at least for one who does not know the fords; and Job is a rather timid horse to get into difficulties with. He is young, and fairly bolted when a pig jumped up from out of a bush near him. We are both going out now for some more boar-hunting. I should enjoy it better if I was sure we should ever get away from this swampy place.
We have had a great misfortune. Ariel is badly wounded. We went out to-day, a large party, people on foot with spears and hoes, and one or two on sorry little mares. It was a beautiful day after the rain, birds singing in all the bushes, francolins calling, hoopoes flying about, and woodcocks starting from guttub thickets. The island was half under water, and droves of pigs, boars, sows and little ones, turned out of the bushes, where they generally lie in the day-time, were grunting and trotting and splashing about everywhere. We singled out a great red boar, and all gave chase, but the ground was heavier than yesterday, and we had a longish gallop to come up to him. It was difficult, too, to keep to the boar we had chosen, where there were so many. At last he charged, and was hit, but not enough to stop though it turned him, and then we had another gallop, and another shot rolled him over. The people on foot, who were following them, rushed in, but just as they got near him up he jumped, and bolted towards some deep water, where there was a high guttub bush. I was in front, and Wilfrid shouted to me to turn him, which I would have done if I could, but instead, he turned me, coming at me with a savage grunt and a toss of his head which I knew was dangerous. Then he plunged into the deep water, but instead of going on, suddenly changed his mind, and came back to where the bush was on the land, and before we were aware, had charged right in among us. Wilfrid turned his mare, but, alas, not fast enough, firing as he turned. To my horror, I saw the hideous beast catch Ariel and give her a toss, such as I have seen in the bull-ring given by a bull. He seemed to lift horse and rider clean off the ground. Ariel staggered away, while the boar lay down, and was soon after dispatched by the Arabs.