QABR HUD

lunch. When the baggage animals arrived one of them fell in the water
and stuck in the muddy sand. The beduin rushed to its help and unloaded
it. They then began digging it out, pulling the wet sand from under it
with their hands. One of them had a bright idea and fetching a saucepan
tried to empty the river round it. This caused some amusement, but the
camel-men, seeing that the idea was not without its possibilities, built a bund
round the camel and reinforcing the saucepan with a pail continued to empty
the river. Others brought sticks and branches and pushed them under
the beast. It was on the point of heaving itself up when Seiyid Muhsin was
inspired to invoke the name of Sheikh Bubekr, the famous saint of 'Einat,
who was so holy that his name can move anything—so said Seiyid Muhsin*
After lunch, however, when we started stirring up the camel-men, even the
holy sheikh's name was useless, for nothing short of dynamite will move
camel-men before they want to go.

It was not until half-past three that we got away determined to reach
Qabr Hud that night, Karama had other ideas and did everything he
could to delay us. Just before half-past five we saw Qabr Hud appearing
deceptively close and urging on our camels we rode forward. Darkness
came down at a quarter-past six, but the thought of spending a comfortable .
night in the Al Kaf house encouraged us on. Finally, in scattered formation,
we came to a halt in the wadi below the village at ten minutes past seven.
Salim went off to find the house and its key but without success, so we
stretched ourselves out under a tamarisk tree.

The morning broke a little misty and when I climbed above the bank
under which we had slept I saw the faint mist drifting slowly away from
the gully on the side of which lay the great white tomb of Hud which had
been our leading mark till darkness overtook us. Even at a distance of
half a mile it is impressive in its aim beauty.

A solitary beduin {it turned out he was one of our party) was descending
the broad white flight of steps that leads up to the sanctuary, and I wondered
whether our presence here would be resented.

The atmosphere of this most holy spot in the Hadhramaut lost nothing
on closer acquaintance. We reached it, not through the little town and
. up the imposing stairway, but up the side of the mountain by a path leading
to the l,arge white-washed platform where there was a many-colnmned
cloister partially enclosing the huge boulder held to be the hump of Hud's
petrified she-camel This cloistered platform is used for prayers. Before
stepping on to it we removed our shoes. There was not a sool about and

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