The Land of Midian (Revisited) Volume I Part 9

15. Ruins of El-Khandaki. Broken quartz, and made road at El-Kutayyifah; two other ateliers in Wady Ruways to the west: total, 3.

16. Umm Amil. Near it an atelier still called El-Dayr, or the Convent. 1.

17. Ziba', old town; Umm Jirmah to the north. 1.

18. Majirmah (p.r.o.nounced M'jirmah), one day's march south of Ziba. Large ruins, supposed to have been the cla.s.sical Rhaunathos.

Thus, besides a total of eighteen ruins, more or less extensive, twenty ateliers were seen or heard of; making up a total of thirty-eight--not far removed from the forty traditional settlements of the mediaeval Arab geographers.

In the plateau of New Red Sandstone called El-Hisma, ruins and inscriptions are said to be found at the Jebel Rawiyan, whose Wady is mentioned by Wallin (p. 308); at Ruafa, between the two hills El-Rakhamatayn; and at sundry other places, which we were unable to visit. Beyond the Hisma' I also collected notices of El-Karayya, large ruins first alluded to by Wallin (p.

316).[EN#84]

During our exploration of the region below El-Muwaylah (my Southern Midian), and our cruise to El-Haura', the following sites were either seen or reported:--

1. Ruins in the Wady Dukhan, south of the Wady el-Azlam: north of El-Wijh.

2. El-Nabaghah, in the Wady el-Marrah: north of El-Wijh.

3. Ruins, furnaces and quartz-strews, in the Fara't Lebayyiz.

4. El-Wijh, the port of Strabo's "Egra" (?).

5. Inland fort of El-Wijh; an old metal-working ground.

6. The great mine and ruins, Umm el-Karayya't, everywhere surrounded by ateliers.

7. El-Kubbah, a small isolated ruin to the east of No. 6.

8. El-Khaur, a working-place to the west of No. 6.

9. The large works called Umm el-Hara'b, with two ruined ateliers near them.

10. Aba'l-Gezaz, a working-place in the watercourse of the same name, an upper branch of the Wady Salbah.

11. The fine plain of Bada', with the Mashghal el-'Arayfat heard of to the north.

12. Marwat, ruins on a ridge near Bada, and signs of a settlement in the valley. In the Wady Laylah, remains also spoken of.

13. Aba'l-Maru, probably the Zu'l-Marwah of Bilazuri; extensive remains of buildings; a huge reef of quartz, carefully worked, and smaller ruins further down the valley.

14. The cla.s.sical temple or tomb on the left bank of the great Wady Hamz, dividing Southern Midian from El-Hejaz in the Turkish dominions.

15. Large remains, in two divisions, at El-Haura.[EN#85]

Concerning the ateliers, details will be found in the following pages. Many of them suggest a kind of compromise between the camps and settlements of the Stone Age, where, e.g. at Pressigny and Grimes' Graves, the only remnant of man is a vast strew of worked silexes; and the wandering fraternity of Freemasons who hutted themselves near the work in hand. And I would here lay special stress upon my suspicion that the ancestors of the despised Hutaym may have been the Gypsy-caste that worked the metals in Midian.

For the date of the many ruins which stud the country, I will a.s.sume empirically that their destruction is coeval with that of the Christian Churches in Negeb, or the South Country,[EN#86]

that adjoins Midian Proper on the north-west. It may date from either the invasion of Khusrau a.n.u.s.h.i.+rawan, the conquering Sa.s.sanian King Chosroes (A.D. 531-579); or from the expedition, sent by the Caliph Omar and his successors, beginning in A.D.

651. But, as will appear in the course of these pages, there was a second destruction; and that evidently dates from the early sixteenth century, when Sultan Selim laid out his maritime road for the Hajj-caravan. Before that time the Egyptian caravans, as will be seen, marched inland, and often pa.s.sed from Midian to El-Hijr.

Chapter V.

Work At, and Excursions From, Maghair Shu'Ayb.

By the blessing of Nebi Shu'ayb and a glance from his eyrie, I at once suspected that the western s.h.i.+gd was the "Mountain on a mountain" alluded to by Haji Wali;[EN#87] and, on January 12, 1878, I ascertained that such was the case. The old man had given me a hand-sketch of the most artless, showing a gorge between two rocks, a hill of two stages to the left or west, and a couple of Wadys draining it to the sea; one (Wady Makna) trending northwest, and the other (Wady 'Afal) south-west. The word "Ishmah," affixed to the northern part of the route, is evidently the Hisma plateau, and not, as I had supposed it to be, the Jebel Tayyib Ism.

Nor had we any difficulty in discovering Haji Wali's tree, a solitary Mimosa to the right of the caravan-track, springing from the sands of the s.h.i.+gdawayn gorge. The latter is formed by the sister-blocks before alluded to. The western s.h.i.+gd, on the right of the Wady 'Afal, is composed of carbonate of lime and sandstones dyed with manganese, the whole resting upon a core of grey granite; the formation is the same as the eastern feature, but the lines of the latter are gentler, and the culminating tower is wanting.

The western s.h.i.+gd, indeed, is sufficiently peculiar. It is the southern apex of a short range, numbering some four heads: the eastern flank discharges the Wady Kizaz, which feeds the 'Afal; and the western the Wady Makna. The summit of the broken and spiny cone is a huge perpendicular block, apparently inaccessible as a tower, and composed of the dull yellow ferruginous conglomerate called "El-Safra:" the tint contrasts strongly with a long line of bright white Rugham (gypsum), bisecting the head of the Wady Makna. Below the apex is a thick stratum of manganese-stained rock: the upper line, with a dip of 15 deg.

towards the main valley, looks much like a row of bulwarks which had slipped from the horizontal, while still bluff between the north-east and east. Indeed, the shape is so regular that M.

Lacaze, at first sight, asked if it was une construction.

As soon as the was.h.i.+ng-trough was brought up from Sharma, we opened operations by digging a trench, at least twelve feet deep, in the re-entering angle of the bed close to the Mimosa tree. The sand, pink above and chloritic yellow below, ended in a thick bed of water-rolled pebbles, not in ground-rock; nor did it show the couch of excellent clay which usually underlies the surface, and which, I have said, is extracted through pits to make sun-dried brick, swish, and other building materials. We also secured some of the blood-red earth from the eastern tail of the northern "s.h.i.+gh," the manganese-stained Taua and the gravelly sand washed out of the Cascalho-gravel, the latter very promising. The result of our careless working, however, was not successful; the normal ilmenite, black sand of magnetic iron, took the place of gold-dust. And this unlooked-for end again made us suspicious of my old friend's proceedings: the first occasion was that of his notable "malingering." Had he bought a pinch of "Tibr" (pure gold) from the Bedawin, and mixed it with the handful of surface stuff ? Had the a.s.sayer at Alexandria played him a trick ? Or had an exceptionally heavy torrent really washed down auriferous "tailings"? I willingly believe the latter to have been the case; and we shall presently see it is within the range of possibility.

Traces of gold were found by Lieutenant-Colonel W. A. Ross, through his pyrological process, in the sandy clays brought from the mouth of Wady Makna.

Meanwhile, despite our magnificent offers, the Arabs managed to keep inviolate their secret--if they had one. An old man, now a rich merchant and householder at Suez, had repeatedly declared to Mr. A. G. K. Levick, that in his young days the Bedawin washed gold in Midian, till the industry fell into disrepute. During my last visit he was unfortunately absent upon a pilgrimage; after our return he a.s.serted that he had sent for specimens of the sand, but that it paid too little even for transport. This 'Abd el-Hamid el-Shami, interviewed, after our return, by Mr. Clarke, declared more than once, and still declares, that many years ago he obtained from the Wady Ziba, behind the settlement, a certain quant.i.ty of reddish sand which appeared auriferous. He roasted and washed the contents of three small baskets called "Coffas"[EN#88] by Europeans; and this yielded a pinch of "what looked like pure gold."

In camp our men spoke freely of Tibr stored in quills, carried behind the ear, and sold at Suez--not at Cairo for fear of consequences. Yet neither promises nor bribes would persuade the poorest to break through the rule of silence. The whole might have been a canard: on the other hand, there was also a valid reason for reticence; the open mouth would not long have led to a sound throat. So our many informants contented themselves with telling us frequent tales of gold ornaments picked up after rain; they showed us a ring made from a bit found on the Tabuk road, and they invariably a.s.sure us that we shall find wondrous things--about the next station.

At Maghair Shu'ayb we wasted a whole fortnight (January 11-24, 1878) in vain works; and I afterwards bitterly repented that the time had not been given to South Midian. Yet the delay was pleasant enough, after the month which is required to acquire, or to recover, the habit of tent-life. The halting-day was mostly spent as follows: At six a.m., and somewhat later on cold mornings, the Boruji sounds his reveille--k.u.m, ya Habibi, sah el-Naum ("Rise, friend! sleep is done"), as the Egyptian officers interpret the call. A curious business he makes of it, when his fingers are half frozen; yet Bugler Mersal Abu Dunya is a man of ambition, who persistently, and despite the coa.r.s.e laughter of Europeans, repairs for quiet practicing to the bush. We drink tea or coffee made by Engineer Ali Marie, or by Quartermaster Yusuf, not by Europeans; two camels supply us with sweet milk; b.u.t.ter we have brought; and nothing is wanted for complete comfort but bread.

We then separate to our work, after telling off the quarrymen to their several tasks. Inveterate idlers and ne'er-do-weels, their only object in life is not to labour; a dozen of them will pa.s.s a day in breaking ten pounds' weight of stone. They pound in the style of the Eastern tobacconist, with a very short stroke and a very long stay. At last they burst the sieves in order to enjoy a quieter life. They will do nothing without superintendence; whilst the officer is absent they sit and chat, smoke, or lie down to rest; and they are never to be entrusted with a water-skin or a bottle of spirits. The fellows will station one of their number on the nearest hill, whilst their comrades enjoy a sounder sleep; they are the greatest of cowards, and yet none would thus have acted sentinel even in the presence of the enemy.

These useful articles all expect a liberal "bakhs.h.i.+sh" when the journey is done, with the usual Asiatic feeling: they know that they deserve nothing, but my "dignity" obliges me to largess. On this occasion it did not.

Those told off to dig prefer to make a deep pit, because fewer can work together at it, rather than sc.r.a.pe off and sift the two feet of surface which yield "antika's." They rob what they can: every sc.r.a.p of metal stylus, manilla, or ring is carefully tested, sc.r.a.ped, broken or filed, in order to see whether it be gold. Punishment is plentifully administered, but in vain; we cannot even cure their unclean habits of was.h.i.+ng in and polluting the fountain source. Three Europeans would easily do the work of these thirty poor devils.

Mr. Clarke is our camp-manager in general: he is also our jager; he shoots the wild poultry, duck and partridge, sand-grouse, and "Bob White" the quail, for half our dinners; and the Arabs call him the "Angel of Death belonging to the Birds." He failed to secure a n.o.ble eagle in the Wady 'Afal, whose nest was built upon an inaccessible cliff: he described the bird as standing as high as our table, and with a width of six to seven feet from wing to wing. He also brought tidings of a large (horned?) owl, possibly the same species as the fine bird noted at Sinai. The Arabs call it cla.s.sically b.u.mah, and vulgarly Umm Kuwayk ("Mother of Squeaking"): the Fellahin believe that it sucks out children's eyes, and hence their name, "Ma.s.sasah." Here, as in the Sinaitic Peninsula, "the owl and the hyena are used as charms; and the burnt feathers of the former, and the boiled flesh of the latter (superior filth!), are considered as infallible specifics for numerous disorders." In other parts of Arabia the hooting of the owl portends death; and the cry, Fat--fat, is interpreted, "He is gone, gone."

The two Staff-officers make plans and sketches of the new places, or they protract their field-books, working very hard and very slowly. I have but little confidence in their route-surveys: sights are taken from mule-back, and distances are judged by the eye. True, the protractions come out well, but this is all the worse, suggesting the process commonly called "doctoring." For the style of thing, however, "dead reckoning" did well enough.

M. Lacaze is the most ardent. Accompanied by his favourite orderly, Salamat el-Nahhas, an intelligent negro from Dar-For, he sets out after breakfast with a bit of bread, a flagon of water, a tent-umbrella, and his tools, which he loses with remarkable punctuality, to spend the whole day sketching, painting, and photographing. M. Philipin is our useful man: he superintends the was.h.i.+ng-cradle; he wanders far and wide, gun in hand, bringing us specimens of everything that strikes the eye; and he is great at his forge: the Bedawin sit for hours, gazing attentively as he converts a file into a knife, and ill.u.s.trating the reverence with which, in early days, men regarded Vulcan and Wayland Smith.

At eleven a.m. the bugle sounds Tijri taakul! ("Run and feed"), a signal for dejeuner a la fourchette. It is a soup, a stew, and a Pulao ("pilaff") of rice and meat, sheep or goat, the only provisions that poor Midian can afford, accompanied by onions and garlic, which are eaten like apples, washed down with bon ordinaire; followed by cheese when we have it, and ending with tea or coffee. George the cook proves himself an excellent man when deprived of oil and undemoralized by contact with his fellow Greeks. After feeding, the idlers, who have slumbered, or rather have remained in bed, between eight p.m. and six to seven a.m., generally manage a couple of hours' siesta, loudly declaring that they have been wide awake. One of the party seems to live by the blessing of him who invented sleep, and he is always good for half of the twenty-four hours--how they must envy him whose unhappy brains can be stupefied only by poisonous chloral!

At two p.m., after drinking tea or coffee once more, we proceed to another four hours' spell of work. As sunset and the cold hours draw near, all a.s.semble about the fire, generally two or three huge palm trunks, whose blaze gladdens the soul of the lonely night-sentinel; and, a.s.sembling the Shaykhs of the Arabs, we gather from them information geographical, historical, and ethnological. The amount of invention, of pure fancy, of airy lying, is truly sensational; while at the same time they conceal from us everything they can; and, more especially, everything we most wish to know. Firstly, they do not want us to spy out the secrets of the land; and, secondly, they count upon fleecing us through another season. During the whole day, but notably at this hour, we have the normal distractions of the Arabian journey. One man brings, and expects "bakhs.h.i.+sh" for, a bit of broken metal or some ridiculous stone; another grumbles for meat; and a third wants tobacco, medicine, or something to be had for the asking. I am careful to pay liberally, as by so doing the country is well scoured.

Dinner, at seven p.m., is a copy of what was served before noon.

It is followed by another sitting round the fire, which is built inside the mess tent when cold compels. At times the conversation lasts till midnight; and, when cognac or whisky is plentiful, I have heard it abut upon the Battle of Waterloo and the Immortality of the Soul. Piquet and ecarte are reserved for life on board s.h.i.+p. Our only reading consists of newspapers, which come by camel post every three weeks; and a few "Tauchnitz,"

often odd volumes. I marvel, as much as Hamlet ever did, to see the pa.s.sionate influence of the storyteller upon those full-grown children, bearded men; to find them, in the midst of this wild new nature, so utterly absorbed by the fict.i.tious weal and woe of some poor creature of the author's brain, that they neglect even what they call their "meals ;" allow their "teas" to cool, and strain their eyesight poring over page after page in the dim light of a rusty lantern. Thus also the Egyptian, after sitting in his cafe with all his ears and eyes opened their widest, whilst the story-teller drones out the old tale of Abu Zayd, will dispute till midnight, and walk home disputing about what, under such and such circ.u.mstances, they themselves would have done. To me the main use of "Tauchnitz" was to make Arabia appear the happier, by viewing, from the calm vantage-ground of the Desert, the meanness and the littlenesses of civilized life--in novels.

The marching-day is only the halting-day in movement. By seven a.m. in winter and four a.m. in spring, we have breakfasted and are ready to mount mule or dromedary; more generally, however, we set out, accompanied by the Sayyid and the Shaykhs, for a morning walk. The tents and, most important of all, the tent-table are left to follow under the charge of the Egyptian officers, who allow no dawdling. With us are the cook and the two body-servants, riding of course: they carry meat, drink, and tobacco in my big tin cylinder intended to collect plants; and they prefer to give us cold whilst we fight for hot breakfasts.

After resting between ten a.m. and noon in some shady spot, generally under a thorn, we ride on to the camping-ground, which we reach between two and three p.m. This is the worst part of the day for man and beast, especially for the mules--hence the necessity of early rising.