THE
EMPTY QUARTER
hdno a description of the Great South Desert of Arabia hwum as Huh' al Khali
By
H. StJ. B. PHILBY
Cll.li.
ILLIISTR AThV)
f
f
LONDON
( 'ONSTABU'; &• COMPANY LTD
PUBLISHED BY
Constable ani Cotnpany Lhi
LONDON
Oxford Uni V (7 sit y Pisss
BOMBAY CALC:UTT'\ MADRAS
The Macmilhw Con:pany
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of Canada, IJmiU'd
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WIFK ami .MO'I’UFii
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‘ ^ . ^N'C; TRAVAIL
A\X}nrs VivAHS
' -miicatk this ,:,:n,K.i .„.• mv wan-|,kki.vms
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.M-r( .;xan.n,at,on ul iiH. „r,.,.il ki„<l,s hnHad.t, hack
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Pninnci^ol Is I onh crav,- U.c reader's And (.Hersr Hie, la,. V.. a.ssi.s.rd n.einli.: ..V: M-.i jon ol (Ins n.,.or.l of,, land uhiri, lor lon.o wars I i.a.ve
rded as ,l„. oln.-r ^oa ! of n,N ,nnhilious, I (an-ier n,v eraleliil atei cordial thanks.
^ Apart i ron, 1 Ic snccc.sslnl aecon.plislnncnt of a ta.sk eon- '‘A<'n,|.(c<| Hl,„-h i.s reuard eno„<^li in it.scjl' .
n,„n. rortnnalethan Ins predece.ssors ■ indin.a a l,osi o| ca.Lrcr and <.:.p..r(, minds ivadv a-ain.s( his 'M-h his on,.,. hapha.a,-.l , .oil,.,. (tons and ' iron, M,,. ,.harf (h.-on^i Mu- .sk-v,. of
l! appr<.,.ial,ion
-is !h,.,s,. th,.,,. snnnK.rin.n; ,.,,1 hn.sia s,,, over a lu-w
- •"■■'A nothin,,.; of a n„.„.orit,. .aat,.,- I is
' ,n than the plainl.K ,,f a n„,h. .\,„j .Arabia, is sfi|| ,so
'-P'that ,, lIatte,.s,he!ahonrs oi .1I,,\ nasr.nahh in,(i,i.-a( iv ,■ visitor.
■\1 tho ,.n,l ,,f ,„v
ti, ports or ,.,.sni(s ,-n.anatinp front (.ite .st.n<lv ' n,> n,a,..,.,al h^ nnn„.ro,ts exp.-rt.s in (I,., vanons .s„hj,.,.,t;
' 7'''*' .■n'knoul,.,l.c,l an,! in of, her
' 7'''; Henry M,,. reader af fh..
7'; <-aialo.n„. of nan,e.s, I, of 1 .^mld invife hint (or
't o 'ttnlv M.e a[,pen,|i..,.,s uiM, ,liiit,,.n,:,. if h.- .she) WHdd la-u ,. a j.rop,.,. nn.lerstan.iu,^. of t h,. ntvsferion.s hhnpfv g'-rterot ,b.al,ia in d,.tnil ns umll a.s in ti... nta.s.s ' '
M, .■ ‘•nllnaKtavs of fhe Briti.sh
. .-un, u ho hav,- ,,rovi,l,..l some of fhe nppetnJieea ; fu
'Mhi.s udto have piaeed at my diHjtowil n.titerial u«.d hot), in
yiii PREFACE
the appendices and in my own text : and to Dr. ( , late
Regan and the authorities of the British Muscana paHanhi : my cordial acknowledgments and h(‘st thank> ao* r>p( riall\ due. It is gratifying to ino to*think that all fla* material collected by me during this expedition lias heiai pw^imUnl to the British Museum by His Majesty King ‘Afuiiil ‘A/ix ilm Sa^ud, the King of Arabia, to whom I had tfu* 1 amour ta making it over my return from the dtrsmi and fo whose
princely patrona^ and assistaiKH' I owe al! that I haat* Inaai able to achieve in the Empty Quarter.
For the map which aeeomf)anies this \olnnie and na* t fie computation of all my instrumental rtHairds ; ftir iiiuelt other assistance and for the eneouragement and apfuyriat it >n hi^ij no explorer, outgoing or returning, seeks m \4in : in\ gratitude goes oxit to the Roya-l i itaigrapldeal St leitu \ , W iiere all or many have helpcal it is [HU’hafi,'^ inxio'iou- t«t iu*aifiofi names, but Admiral Sir William ( hHHirnouLdt and Mr. A IP Hinkshave been too kind and helpful to hf* <uiu! t^’«i n-m in. catalogue of benefactors, while Mr. A. B. and Mr II,
F. Milne have rendered nu* services too import aiit fn h** forgotten.
To several others, whosc^ names are dul\ nienttomal in thr appropriate places, my thanks are due tor im
many topics, on whoscmiiseuHsion I entihi not Inive unuiirrif without their aid. If I do not detail their tutiivA here it m not for want of gratitude, but I must li*ave them iiifliudiinlh for specific mention in later pages wliilt' lli.'tnkiiiy tie-in generally in the person of my old chief' Maj^^r th m-r/il ^tr Percy Z. Cox, who has done, me fhi* honour td rfunliiig tlirungh my proofs and making soim* suggestions for t tu’ nnpimvctiicfii of my work.
And, finally, 1 owe a HjHwkl debt of tlmiiks in iii% iiifiu who enabled me to completi^ the te%t fit" iIiih ml Inn a
reasonable time by undertaking the ivhole of ftie lahoiir involved In typing its pagxw from iiiy serihhlefi iwiiiniirript
sheets.
Mbooa, Nmeniften OJ32.
X
TABLE OF CONTENTS
APPENDICES
A. METBOBITES AND EULODBITES *
B. GEOLOGICAL BESULTS
C. OSTBICH EGGS
D. ‘SINGING sands' - . -
B. MAMMALS - -
B. BIBDS “
G. BBPTILBS
H. INSECTS - ■■
J. ELOBA
K. LIST OE NEW GBOGBABHIOAL NAMES IN UVB' »U. KIIAIJ
L. . LAND ALTITUDES
M. DIVISIONS OF MDBBA TEIBE
:i:i
:VM
3B7
4Mt
40a
ilij
lull
II a
INDEX
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. METEORITE CRATBE ‘ A ’ AT WABAR, LOOKING SO0TH-
WEST{««p. W5) . Frmtiapiece
2. SA’DAN WITH AL BAHBANXYA - - . .
3. BALM-OROVE ON COAST AT SALWA ' - - - 49
4.. (a) ISOLATED HILLOCK OF QARN ABtr WAIL NEAR SIKAK
AT BASE OP QATAR PENINSULA - - - 50
{f>) HALT AT THE ABANDONED VILLAGE OF KIIIN. A TYPICAL SETTLEMENT OP THE IKHWAN MOVEMENT ip. HO)
». SPRINO AT ANHAK WITH REEDS AND BALMS
6. {a) THE TWO MANSUHI MEMBERS OF THE EXPEDITION HDMAID IBN AMUAJ AND SALIH IBN ’aZIZ - -
{h) AU IBN SALIH IBN* JaHMAN, THE OHIEP GUIDE, WITH AL BAHBANIVA at .MAQAINAMA ip. J;iS) ’
QASR IBN DAHBASU IN .lABltlN DISTRICT -
3. («) 'J'HK LAST HUMAN BEINGS SEEN FOR 63 DAYS : JABIR
IBN FAHL GF THE MURKA WITH HIS TENT AND FAMILY at . .
(h) an old raven’s NEST IN GHADHA BUSH BETWEEN MAQAINAMA AND BIR FADHIL (p. /.W)
0. SUWin AND THE RAVEN BY THE BALMS AND REEDS GROWING IN SBRING-FED BOOL OF GHUBAIYA IN .lABRIN DISTRICT .
K). (a) gamp at MAQAINAMA, WITH CAMELS WATERING AT WELL IN . .
(h) THE WELLS OF ADRA.I, LOOKING NORTH (p. 10!/)
1 1. ’aU JAHMAN, SALIM AND ZAYID OPENING UP MOUTH OF
MAQAINAMA WKLL, GOVBKKD OVER WITH RAFTERS AND SKINS TO PJRITKtT IT FJ«>M SAND -
12, («) LUMP OF SILICA GLASS fKXTKRIOIl) FROM THE
METEORITE OIUTERS OF WAIIAR {aHutd (A) INTERIOR OF (a) COT THROUGH TO SHOW THE COM- POSmON OF THE SILIOA'OLASS FORMED BY THE FORING OF THE SAND BY THE GREAT HEAT OF THE METEOJtlTE (p. 171)
(e) TWO SPECIMENS OF FUIAJURITIS FROM THE SOHMt. »RN SANDS (fWtliMl «(m) (p. m)
63
77
101
10.7
112
1 lli
lie
‘-iW OF ILLUSTKATIOXS
13. MCTKMUnT .‘lUTEit ' H ' AT WAEAU • .
14. {«) METEi'iur lilOS ForM» AT \VMi%H
#|.£C| « * * » , »
ENP Of y<j (.fj. i.itl.isitr.K To Elf Hi;n
i;i'ir,rT Of xHi: NioKEi.U'EK'n ntos ih;? <y
It,' ^ ]
16. («) AttKiVAI. tS CAMP !N msTUP T of HAM .tAft.AH .
.'^^Nri.pKAK IN ONE ur THE liI‘NTMlANtiK:-< Mf HAM >'AMK 'll. i'ni
Ifl. I'AAtP AT THi: ' tlEAil " WKJ,1. of '.vlN yM,\ tS I KEEP ItOUHENItttE IHH.l.ttW CMtEIt A HAAtif of Toffy
H.AM*. )*t-NES . .
17. <!AMP AT Ttli; A\*Kt,W <tl' ZlglftT, TAricU,
POj*Kl» ^'UfrttFTlJE HEU-llUClt f'MiEI'ilA Toi i'»i; f'-'i.'fiUH .....
18. («) TVPlf'.AT i:\Pf).st‘KE AMtO THE SaMim ir 'ITtr, * Mif.M
LAlM} t}VP.Sr.i>t,’M rj.tirm as- t MAI AJ. y»'UI N
Ih) JlUTCHlNa A PaMEJ/.-^ lEBT l.At'KIUTEit HV AtAtUTl !!«> 0*4 ««AVREU-‘ It’’-
U. OAMI* at THK WKIX.H OP HHANNA. l.ormi^'O NoUTH EA^T
S§. (a) sirwm a?<i» muu kbeitxo a i.o(tit..o!-r aj- hhasn a
(fe) OBVX WHICH Had wed or wt’AiivArioN is de'<kiit AXD tIAH S«f)T «r.K?< KATES HV lUVl'.S'. oH ornBH CARHDKS.EATIKa DREATCtW If.
SI. (a) A TYl'JCAI. HOKSE IS RMIJXaT HAWAVa
(&) A DtSHK'MANHK IN KIIIDUaT HAW.AVA 7- .*.1*1 >
Si. (a) ra» eabthest nmt hkadiikd at the nn.>,t
ATTEMIT O.S THK WATEWXT.H DK’iRlir .
(fe) OAMPATNAIPA.WITHTKSHWK nil;
l**M gASOH BKHtND IT (p. :*)Mj
». (a) WB® pmrx HwimsiSo td ihvadh i-hmm sajpa
(6) OA^ WAMWflD ATTIWWmWNAirAOS MaMCH
IB34, BEfoiw WABTIKH oi'P tit CBo.Tt, THlt
lllii, MT C|n mWl
S4. AI.MV^, ‘Si!f ^WWWB ACHDWrt til® WAtXiU
*»«W wlSEMP PKOM “HAWA TD Ht^l.AlVlI. ASU WWCBTOMKa'A - . *0 DAIVII, ,A.fD
-■T I*.; I
t* rm
LIST OF illustrations xiii
*5- (a) MAROHINO ALOKO a mr,rr WCINO PAGB
^AtNA. X. Cr«X "Ta 7^ZlTlZ "r
OROSSIKfi IT . . place EOR
(h) CAMP IN- ,{,VNX zaina’n (p. ;w.s} ' '
■ A HALT IN the <UiAVEL PLAIN OF ABU BaHR - . 337
» in^MAII) AN II HALIH * HNTrRn’tj^rt ^
«-n,.. ,„T..;,. .i “'™
'VAIIvK near .HULArVIL - . 3.7
THE WKLLH of lATu-i xr.. ...
mmh-h ru i u^f
IH.;,SKHT UtO.ssiNo WATEULKSH
*^61
'rue; hkaolani) of Kir\sit\i m .v,,,,
.
^4
m
m
I
PLAN AND MAPS
Al (ffal,«) : P|,„,
Arabia: P»b‘ al Khali (The bbnnfv \
Quarter) at end oj volume.
iSki'tch Map of Arabia - . .
ut end of volume
f
INTRODtJClTTON
I"-" I, . I"n;l rok,„., in it has
ahvaws hy and in which it
n<'v-r hV..nMthi„ vL r''V’''' ^ ^ave
a<Ivt>nfuf.> nu( (,, h*. Unhlix ' ^ ‘“roMsing of it is an
For fif(oc.n VO ’ 1 „ f ^ ^’-1' >'»initiated.^
a aia^,do‘atu},ifion \'af f^.Y a single
.vn,™ I l.a ,. ,.l ;i„ ‘'‘■■■■■Wt* all those
■''“r;o;:.;::,:::::z;;7r
. riin^' Lh , hav„
I, o ra,„r,; „I ; r ■ ‘■“"'la.tKWd
II. «t I.«:, l„l,,„i,,„ri'!„™|“o'r "iwfa’oX 'n'l't
At «m . l«H hand grown strong, iw kunHn^i Iuh dart
of a™iZ I7.‘”‘u": ‘i'"" """
*■ a ^ flatjuarv (Hh, ltM« inHf
R«?i I Vav! ‘‘ Tn (’onuniindnr of the
Hritw.' latii.iao:;,;:;?,"”!!',':' r^;ir'r x;
.=;i ■;:. r;rts r rt -rrr f
«lr«ngar withi,, th., k„u,, tj.o .,„,oy of, .Ltiu; • ‘
* T/lif iimri ti/ Amim, vnl ih p* 21?*
xviii THE EMPTY yUAJbtxiiiii
voice crying in the wUderness— a new and unknown chal¬ lenger in the breathless tourney of Arabian exploration. Yet none had crossed Arabia before me except one— Captain
G E Sadlier, my predecessor by .a hundred years.
Dr. Hogarth, on the other hand, was the right-hand man of the British Government in all matters of Arabian import. Director of the wartime Arab Bureau at Cairo, he w'as the acknowledged and pre-eminent authority on Arabian affairs. And as far back as 1904 he had, under the title of The Pene¬ tration of Arabia, pubhshed an exhaustive and inspiring sum¬ mary of all that had been done in the field of Arabian c.k- ploration from the days of Nearchus and Aelius Gallus up to the beginning of the twentieth century. Iho gaps hq had noted in our knowledge of Arabia were still for the most pa.rt gaps after the lapse of fourteen years. And one of them was perhaps the largest blank on the map of the earth outside the Polar regions. He was content to contoinplate its vast silence without encouraging rash adventurers to their doom. The ends of science could be served as well in other ways, jp oxygen could surmount the summit of Itvciest, the aero¬ plane or even the motor car would surely exjiose the empti¬ ness of the Empty Quarter in all good time. But he would perhaps scarcely have credited a forecast that within four¬ teen years more the Rub' al Khali would have yielded uj) its secrets — ^not once, but twice — to ordinary travidlers oq^oipped with no means of locomotion that has not been at the service of explorers since the beginning of time. Yet no one desired more intensely to know the exact nature of that great emptiness, and the suppressed twinkle of his cautious cynicism was more than a spur of inspiration. More anjrthing I regret that he himself had passed boyoml the veil before the veil was drawn from an earthly mystery of
whose significance he would have been the ideal interpreter.
Prom pleasant weeks of closest contact with Dr. Hogarth at Jidda and in Egypt I passed that year back into Arabia and down into its southern depths round the groat Wadi of the Dawasir, whence I had to turn back regretfully on June 6th, 1918, having ‘ to rest content with what had boon achieved and the hope of satisfying some day the insatiable
XIX
INTRODUCTION
craving within me to penetrate the recesses of that Empty Quarter whose northern boundary I had now skirted along
I had then unveiled a part of the unknown south, hut only enough to whet my appetite for more. From my companions
and particularly from one Jabir ibn Faraj of the great Murea tribe— I had heard of mysterious ruins in the heart of the further sands and of a great block of iron as large as
spectacles I had had a glimpse of the Empty Quarter. But that was all, and I knew tLt an opportunity for further investigation of those mysteries would not soon recur— if ever. ‘ I hope some day,' I wrote, that another more fortunate than I may be able to test the veracity of my informers.’ ^ That hope at least was partly Mhlled in the exploits of Major Cheesman (1924) and Mr. Thomas (1931) and I could scarcely expect that between them they might have left me anything to do when my own turn should come in due course.
Meanwhile, though unsuccessful, I had not been idle The vicissitudes of life and work had carried me this way and that, and very nearly carried me out of Arabia for ever, but the magnet held the needle. And to Arabia I went back in the autumn of 1924 to try a throw with fate. To that effort and its consequences I sacrificed everything— the security of an orthodox career and the rest of it. But I did it without regrets.
During the summer of that same year Dr. Hogarth had been elected Presidcmt of the Royal Geographical Society and L had become a member of its council. The coincidence of our association in a common task seemed to me the best of omens for the enterprise which had so long monopolised my dreanis. The unveifing of the Rub‘ al Khali in his first year of office by one whom he had himself, though unwit¬ tingly, inspired to the effort weuld be a fitting memorial to the presiding genius of Arabian exploration. And to that
eiid I bent iny best endeavcurs*
But not alone. Alone I could have done nothing for want
Heart of Arabia, vol. ii, p. 216. s Ibid. p. 222.
XX
THE EMPTY QUARTER
of funds. And it so happened that at that time my friend, Mrs.Rosita Forbes, the heroine of an arduous journey through the Libyan Desert to the then almost unknown, i though now notorious, oasis of Kuffa, had bethought herself of the Empty Quarter in her search for new worlds to conquer. We joined forces and concerted our plans together, while it was she that secured the necessary financial backing for the joint enter¬ prise.
By the autumn everything was ready except Arabia, itself, which was rocking to the music of a revolution. W'ithout warning the pent-up fires of Wahhabi Najd had bunst forth in a mighty eruption along the borders of the Shai-ifian kingdom. The massacre at Taif had shocked^tlui world in September, and a month later Mecca, deserted by it.s king, surrendered peacefully to the fanatics. It seemed but a matter of days to the fail of Jidda and Madina, while, with Ibn Sa’ud dominating all that mattered of Arabia, tlu' omen.s seemed propitious enough for the prosecution of our plans. Only a measure of secrecy was necessary in the circum¬ stances lest those plans should be divined and frustraltid by S3mipathetic and well-meaning British ollicials.
Bahrain was the agreed rendezvous, and 1 scd. otd aloini about the middle of October. On the train carrying me across France I met Dr. Hogarth, who may have fathomed the purpose of my journey but kept his counsel. I .saw him but little thereafter, for he was soon struck down by the malady which carried him in the end to his grave. And I never knew what he thought of my futile endeavour, if ho (n'ci’ kmnv its objective. Meanwhile at Marseilles, having ai^^ady in Lon¬ don secured a ticket and berth to Bandar 'Abba.s, 1 had boarded a vessel of name more than ait.s[)icious S.S. Begistan, ‘ the land of sand ! ’
At Suez, on hearing the latest news from .Arabia , 1 changed my plans, and a few days later I landed at Jidda a.s the giu'.st of His Majesty King ’Ali, who had succeeded to the remnants of his father’s throne on the latter’s abdic.ation and ha.Hiy departure. For a moment it seemed that i)ea(;('i might, be restored on reasonable terms. But the die was cast other-
^ It had previously been visited only by Gerhard Kohlfs in 1879.
INTRODUCTION xxi
of file defenders, and the arrival of Ibn Sa ud himself at Mecca early in December was the signal for he investment of Jidda. It scarcely seemed that the place could hold out a fortnight with its ill-officered, ill-fed iU- “o^oo^^ries drawn from the unemployed rabble of Syria and Palestine by the illusory prospect of pay.
, of fioie was precious, though I could
still aftord to wait some weeks for the developments which might forward my immediate objective. But Pate proved churlish, and Jidda struck me down with its foul dysentery. As soon as I could move, I fled away to meet my colleague at Aden ; and Rosita Porbes, nothing daunted by the col¬ lapse of our plans, set forth to explore Abyssinia while I re- turned home— a sick and disappointed man. My first attempt on the Empty Quarter had ended in futihty.
Por seven years I had laboured in vain as Jacob of old tor Rachel. In place of the Rub' al Khali I had found a home by the green waters of the Red Sea— to toil other seven years for the bride of my constant desire. And the great peace of Islam slowly and surely descended upon me, en¬ veloped me, who had known no peace before, in the austere mantle of Wahhabi philosophy which, tilting at the iniquities of the ungodly, had imposed a peace ‘ that passeth all under¬ standing ’ upon a country which since the beginning of time had lino wn no peace but that of death and desolation.
Mecca became my home to remain so, inshallah, to the end of my days ; and I was admitted to the privilege of daily intimacy with the Great King, who had been my hero since the first days of our easy friendship— than whom indeed I
know no man more worthy to be called great. During thirty
years he has done for Arabia what none has been able to do during thirty centuries. Si monumentum quaeris, respice ! But this is not the place to spfeak of the achievements of Ibn Sa ud.
My homage and faithful allegiance he has ever had _ ^the
tribute of my admiration. But now I lay at his feet another tnbute— of thanks and heartfelt gratitude. In December, 1930, I accompanied the royal cavalcade into Arabia, even to Riyadh ; and there the king, knowing all too well the
xxii THE EMPTY QUARTER
secret longing of my soul, raised my hopes to the zenith with talk of an expedition to the Empty Quarter. He was minded to examine the uttermost recesses of his far-flung empiie ; and in me he had a convenient instrument for the mapping and scientific investigation necessary for the vindication of his claim to rule the restless sands. I knew that Rertiam Thomas had left Masqat and landed at Dhufar for a final effort on the virgin waste. I had no doubt that he would succeed and I was impatient to be off. The necessary pre¬ parations went forward in consultation with ’Abdullah ibn Jiluwi, governor of the Hasa. And early in January, my hopes were dashed to the ground by the advice tendered by him to his sovereign. He was engaged in certain pro.jeots for the extension of his administrative influence', along t lui southern borderlands and did not want to L'c .saddle-d with responsibihty for an expedition of a somewhat diUcivut kind . A year’s delay would not be of serious monu'.nt. So th<w all thought except myself. Thomas was already at Shaiina., and on January 16th, when we left Riyadh on the return journey to Mecca, he was already half-way across the sands. .4 month later he was through with it, though it was not til! March (ith that I knew the full bitterness of my own di.sappoint.m<mt. He had won the race, and it only remained for nui to finish the course.
Myplansremainedunchangedfor the following winter, 'fim king’s word stood, and in November I was back again at Riyadh. But the weeks passed by with neoau- a, word IVom the king to suggest that he was even thinking of the Mmpfry Quarter. Daily in the royal train 1 hunted huKtard and gazelles in the desert round the Wahhabi capital, whihs (sueh night Jupiter, consorting with the Lion, mexiked my im¬ patience with its solemn query, fi’o be or not to lx; 'i 'that was the daily question as 1 woke each morn to tlu! call of prayer.
The strain of possessing myself in patience till th<^ word of fate should be spoken had become almost unbearable when, one evening about the middle of Dectmiber, we. w<Te sitting in the parlour of the palace. Vague talk there wa.s of an European tour for the Prince J’aisal. Wouhl it not
xxm
INTRODUCTION
be pleasant, suggested one of the great officers of the court, to accompany His Highness thither and, perchance, to visit own o again ? It is, forsooth, long since you last
nerfy took my breath away, bat we wiU send Philby to the
mdeed . Then, ho continued, there is no harm in your goinf!
w^rte T^t Pleasanter
words I nave not heard these many months.
So there was an end to the long tension. We spoke for a day or two of necessary matters connected with the proposed expedition, and then came the day for which I had waited so long I am minded, said the king, to go down to the Hasa e ore long— perhaps in a fortnight or a little later. You could go down with me and start from there. But if you ^^ber, there is no harm in your starting to-morrow.
I ride forth then to Khafs for the shooting. You may come to t^ first night s camp and thence go down in your car to the Hasa. I will give you letters to Ibn Jiluwi, and he will arrange everything as you wish. Would you then go to¬ morrow or wait till you can go with me ? If there is no ha,rm in it, I replied, I would go even to-morrow. Good ' said the king, so be it.
On the evening of Christmas Day I arrived at Hufuf to spend, as it proved, exactly a fortnight in the Hasa. Ibn Jiluwi sent forth his messengers east and west and south and north to summon the necessary array, while his son, Sa’ud, took over all responsibility for the commissariat arrange¬ ments. Meanwhile I explored the great oasis from end to end, visiting the northern palm-groves of ’Uyun and mapping the whole district, whose gardens, I ransacked for their lovely butterflies and other insect denizens.
The old year passed into the new, and my impatience grew as the days followed each other without outward and visible sign of progress in the necessary preparations. A strange ancl ominous silence seemed to have descended upon the pro¬ ceedings of Ibn Jiluwi, and my friends eyed me askance as a fool seeking perdition. The suspense again became horrible.
xxiv THE EMPTY QUARTER
and I sought to soothe my nerves with a visit to ’Uqair on the sea-coast. Thus on January 4th, after a strenuous journey by car across the heavy dunes of the coastal sand- belt, I had the satisfaction of completing my second crossing of Arabia. And on my return to Hufuf next day I found myself on the very threshold ot the Promised Land !
PART I
JAFURA AND JABRIN
ri
ftWa'S rwrs B Mg g-tril? B g’HS
CHAPTER I
THE CURTAIN RISES
My nerves had been stretched so long and mercilessly on the rack of prevarication and disappointment that my brain reacted but sluggishly to the shock that awaited me on our return from-’Uqair. A messenger came from Ibn Jiluwi. The Amir salutes you, he said, the camels and men are ready for you, and you may start when you wiU. It was good news, indeed, but I was far from ready. I had grown accustomed to delay, but never thought that I myself should be responsible for it. Now there was not a minute to lose as there weie rumours that the King would be coming to Hufuf almost immediately. His arrival and presence would inevitably divert attention from the business of launching my expedition. But the fact remained that I was not ready. Some of my indispensable gear was, indeed, marooned with my car in the deep soft sand of the heavy dune country within a mile of ’Uqair. I had gone thither with one of the Qusaibi brothers to meet another of them expected from Bahrain. I had thus completed my second crossing of the Arabian peninsula— this time by motor car— from sea to sea. I had been glad of the opportunity of examining and measur¬ ing up the ruin-field which I cannot but believe to be the site of the ancient sea-port of Gerrha. And not the least pleasing experience of my short sojourn Jiad been a meeting with my host of 1917, the governor of ’Uqair, ’Abdul Rahman ibn Khairallah. You have grown thin, he said to me, but praise be to God, that has guided you into the right way. He had grown old and grey and very mellow. We talked'^pleasantly of old times, sipping coffee and tea. And what, I asked, of Ibn Suwaihm, who was governor of Qatif in those days ? He died a few years ago, he replied, God have mercy on him !
3
4 THE EMPTY QUARTER
His son, Muhammad, succeeded him but was traiislerred elsewhere — it is two years ago now — and I.bn .1 hunaian was sent to Qatif in his stead. By God ! I would that I might be. transferred from here, but the service of the King is my only desire. God is bounteous. His words .struck a, stra.ngi' eliord of memory. Fifteen years ago in this very sa.mo parlour he had uttered the selfsame words. I reminded him of tlio coincidence. Yes, he repUed, I am still here after all llmse years, during which I have never left the place but lor an occasional visit to the Hasa and last year, whim the King permitted me to go to Mecca for the pilgrimage prai.si- b(> to God. Why, all these years I have never even beiui to Bah¬ rain. What a contrast, I thought, between his tpaiuiuil life in the tenure of a virtual sinecure and the storm -to.sscal years that had been my lot since our last meeting !
Next day I had plunged my car into a veritable erevassi' of soft sand and had to leave my luggage to be rec.oveivd later on, while I made a rough journey over the billowing duiu's of that sand-ocean on the running-board of anotlum e.ar already overloaded with the household paraphernalia, im-luding tin; wife, children and several female attendants, of the ilufuf doctor.
That was January 5th. It was imperative to recover my cameras and other stuff from the derelict car, but tlnu c^ were no cars likely to be going in that direction. I'lnuc' was nothing for it but to send my servant, an incflectiv(\ pur¬ blind youth of Riyadh called ’Abdul Latif I had (ha-ideil to dispense with his services, which would hav(s Ikmui u.s(*Ie.ss to me on a serious journey, — by camel to hdeh tlx- gear and bring it direct to some suitable rendcKvou.s in the iie.s(>rt. That would be better than delaying my own start, and Sa ’ud, the eldest son of Ibn Jiluwi„to whom had been consigmxl tin* task of arranging the commissariat and other prae-tical details of my expedition, proved more than helpful. A i‘(;n(l('.zvouH
was duly arranged and ’Abdul Latif . whom I had rather
unwisely paid all his dues — ^went oil with a guide to fe.teh my stuff to Bir alNabit, a desert well which wc shouhi be vi.siting. To anticipate the course of events, the guide kept the tryst, faithfully — and profitably for himself— with my valmxl
5
THE CURTAIN RISES
possessions in his saddle-bags, but he came alone. ’Abdul Latif, sorely tempted by the prospect of seeing something of the great world, had taken ship from ’U(jair to view the wonders and women of Bahrain with the proceeds of his service to me up to date. I saw him no more.
With Sa ud I agreed that the men and camels allotted to the great adventure should proceed the following day (Jan- uary 6th) to the wells of Dulaiqiya and there await my arrival by car on the morrow. So all was well. I was left to work up to a programme that was satisfactorily precise, and I had had the good fortune— thanks to Ibrahim ibn Mu’am- mar, an old friend from the wonderful days of 1918 — to find an excellent substitute for ’Abdul Latif in Sa’d ibn ’Uthman, a native of the dour township of Majma’a in Sudair, a cockney youth of semi-servile origin — for his mother had been his father s slave — with some experience of travel in foreign parts. He had seen Bombay and Basra and, in the service of Ibrahim, he had gone through the campaign against Faisal al Duwish and had taken part in the historic scenes that had attended the meeting of King Ibn Sa’ud and King Faisal on board the ships of His Britannic Majesty in the Persian Gulf in February, 1930. He was, therefore, no ordinary serving man. He had an active, well-seasoned brain and he had ambitions. He regarded me as a god-sent stepping-stone to the realisation of some of the latter — roughly speaking he regarded wealth and a plurality of wives as a desirable foun¬ dation for ultimate bliss— and I reciprocated his flattering impression of my possibilities by regarding him as a potential superman.
Sa’dan — to give him forthwith the pet-name by which he was generally known — did his best to create a favourable first impression. With the privity of his former employer he ransacked the Government stores for everything that might conduce to my comfort and his own — money, clothes, soap, biscuits, sweetmeats, Eau de Cotogne and what not ! By the evening of January 6th the eight wooden kerosene-cases, fitted with hinged lids and padlocks, in which I had decided to carry all my paraphernalia, were ready packed with the strangest assortment of things necessary and unnecessary.
0 THE EMPTY QUARTEH
But it was something that they were packed and ready and that was largely due to him. He was certainly efficient and enioved the hustle and importance of his new role, but when he tked of the Empty Quarter 'there was a tremor m ns voice and his spirits sank leadenly to the region of Ins so Cs It was long since he had last seen his wife, whom ho had left with their little son at Mecca when he had accoinpaiiu^.d Ibrahim on an important mission connected with crown-lands in the Hasa. Would he ever sec her again ? His courage ebbed and flowed in turns but the <lu^ wa.s
Meanwhile, in the intervals of packing and preparation, 1
paid a visit to the new mobile wireless station in the great fortress of Ibrahim Pasha to check my Imlf-ehronoimdcu- watches by the time-signal from distant Hogaciiiao ’ ; and called on ’AbduUah ibn Jiluwi to take formal leave of him. With him I found the appointed leader and dp]mty-l(Vid(u' ol my expedition. In the presence of the threes of us t he gover¬ nor of the Hasa wrote out the drafts of certain letters which might be of use to us in the desert. While a s(M‘reia.i\v was preparing fair copies thereof on the typcwritiCi lot hi.s sig¬ nature he turned to those to whom he was ai)out to eoniinit me for better or for worse until we should come again to th<' haunts of civilised men. He had doubtless dismissed every¬ thing with them in detail already. His present HjXHadi was therefore little more than a formality cna(;ted for my henidit, but it was characteristically impressive. Ixiok ^ani, lus said, addressing Zayid al Munakhkhas, a man of tlu^ P>ani Ha.jir tribe hut more than half town-bred and a myrmidon of long standing in the governor’s service, look you, this man is dear to the TCing and dear to us all ; see that you havcf a earc^ of him. See that he wants for nothing witliin your iiower U> provide. You will take him to Jafura, oven to Salwa and Sikak and Anbak until you come to Jahrin. In all things serve him as you would seBve me. Thence you will go to Maqainama, and beyond that is beyond my ken. Ho spoaks of Wabar. You will take him thither — you have guides with you who know the desert in those parts. You will take him
^More properly MukdiBhu in Italiaa vSanialilHud.
THE CURTAIN RISES 7
to th.© Hadhramaut if you can. find the people to whom I have addressed these letters— Saif ibn Tannaf and Ibn Kalut, I forget his name, and others. See that you avoid danger, but take him whither he would go. For his life you answer with yours. Forget not that. And when you are come thither your return is across the desert, even the Empty Quarter, to Wadi Dawasir. Your companions are already gone out to Dulai(jiya. You yourselves will ride with this man to-morrow in the motop. So in the keeping of God, but see that you do all my bidding, and more. As he ended two men strode into the audience-chamber, messengers from the King. They smiled knowingly,^ sympathetically at me. They were Ibrahim ibn Jumai’a and Sa’d al Yumaini, who had con¬ ducted me down to Wadi Dawasir in 1918. A good omen ! I thought as I rose to bid the governor farewell, kis.c!ing liim on the forehead and grasping the hand that had thus launched us on the great adventure of my dreams.
We went out from the presence and, making a tryst for the morrow, parted. Everything was ready. Before lying down to sleep I skinned a Gerbil captured at ’Uqair. It was my last night under a roof and my slumbers were distTirbed by vague nightmare visions of ill-skinned rats and refractory theodolites.
I awoke at chiUy dawn. Nobody else seemed to be up, but very soon messengers began to pester me at ten-minute intervals, bidding me in the governor’s name to make haste. The cars allotted to myself, my companions and my baggage were wanted to carry others as soon as possible to the King’s camp in Wadi Faruq. The final details of my packing did not take long, and then there was breakfast to get through. The necessary bounties had then to be distributed among those who had served me during my sojourn at Hufuf, while my boxes were being carried out to the lorry. At 9 a.m. a small party of friends had assembled around the cars to bid us farewell, rather dismally and forebodingly. They scarcely expected to see us again, but that was no business of theirs. They soon passed out of sight as we rounded a corner of the narrow main street of the Kut.
It was a cold, raw morning ; and a low fog hung over the
g THE EMPTY QUART E,l\.
cheerful palm-groves as we passed through the dark areh of the ‘ Victory Gate,’ by which Ibn Sa ud had enteied Hufuf in triumph after the surrender of the Turkish garrison in 1913 We skirted the city walls and swung out into the desert and the mist, which hmited our A'ision to uliout 200 yards and blotted out the landmarks of the world v\e knew as we passed through the veil into the unknown 1 lelt as a, bird must feel when released from its cage, a little awed and bewddered but happy. The heavy shackles ol years had faUen from my soul. The grim bogey that had haun I'd me for so long now beckoned me into the Tromised Land. 1 he great adventure had begun.
Mechanically I noted the mileage of the. fmy reca.gmsal.h. points on our route— the great fort of Khiz.am, the Thulai- thiya garden in which the Qusaibi family ha.d installed a pumping machine without much success, and some dcTeliet wells whose naked superstructures loomed through t lu' sur¬ rounding gloom hke great gibbets. Jlehind us m the town i
pictured the busy market scene of the Huq al Khamis, which I
had attended the previous Thursday wondering how long I
was yet to be detained amid the unessential pleasures of Ha.sa
civilisation. Sa’dan, shivering with cold and fright . cowered silently in the back seat between Zayid and .Vhdullah ibn Ma’addi, while I sat in front with the driver. 'The (aar raced along over the bare hmestone plain, undulating and lightly covered with sand, until, crossing the gravel patch of Hidba
Talla’iya, we passed into the desert tract of ,\1 Ghuwaiba, a sandy expanse Ughtly dusted with grit a.nd dotted with SMnav?- bushes, each set on a typical tuffet of sand, d'he^ driver pointed out a car-track diverging from ours in tlus direction of the Jabal Arba’ hillocks, usually a <'onspic.uou,s feature of the scene but now invisible. In their highly eroded cliffs are numerous caves much freepumted by thci governor of the Hasa and his friends during t heir exeairsioiw after gazelle and bustard. .. The meandering car trae.k.s of such expeditions told of many an exciting chase in tlu' sandy wilderness which becomes, however, iinpractifiabh; for
1 For the identity of all plants mentioned in the tt-xi Htje Apih-ndix.
9
THE CURTAIN RISES
motoring beyond the line of the Sahkha^ channel which we were to cross during the afternoon.
Suddenly a mud wall appeared out of the mist in front of us with a few palms. We had covered the 10 miles to Hulaiqiya, and it would be long indeed before any of us again rode in a motor car. We came to a halt and dismounted. A dozen figures surged out of the fog to greet us and unload the lorry. They had been cowering for warmth over a camp fire in front of a double-poled tent. Another tent, single-poled, circular and spacious ^to say nothing of quite an attractive scheme of mural decoration — stood a little apart, destined for myself. A cauldron was set upon a second fire to give us in due course our first meal of plain boiled rice liberally mixed with the clarified butter called Scmin.^ Meanwhile I went through the rather solemn business of being introduced to the com¬ panions of my coming wanderings. Sa’dan I had known for a week or so. Zayid and Ibn Ma’addi, who, besides being deputy -leader, was also the chaplain of the party, I had met the previous afternoon. The rest I had never seen or heard of before. It was perhaps better so. We started all round without prejudices or preconceived notions. Some of them shook me warmly by the hand, others saluted me with the kiss of peace. They looked rough enough and tough enough for anything, but at the moment they were aU miserably cold. The temperature in the open at mid-day, when the sun was trying feebly to show himself through the mist, was only 50° Fahr.
We sat down thirteen round the great dish of rice to cement the bond of our new fellowship ; and the occasion was, I think, of sufficient importance to justify a catalogue of my companions, whose very names will ever evoke in my mind memories of the pains and pleasures of what I need not hesi¬ tate to describe as the greatest and pleasantest experience of all my life.
Zayid ibn Munakhkhas was, as already stated, our leader.
’Abdullah ibn Ma’addi, deputy leader and chaplain, was of the Rani ’Amr section of Subai’, but, like Zayid, mainly town-bred and hailing from the oasis of Ranya.
^ Saline flat or valley.
2 The Ghi of India, but generally made from sheep’s milk.
10 THE EMPTY (^UAKXJin
The great Murra tribe of the Great South Desert was strongly represented by four members, namely .
’Ali ibn Salih ibn Jahman of the Ghafran section, chief
guide ; . . ,
Muhammad ibn Humaiyid, of the same section, guide ; Sahm ibn Suwailim of the Dimnan section, guide ,
Suwid ibn Hadi al Azma of the same section, guide.
The ’Ajman tribe had three representatives :
Hasan Khurr al Dhib, of Ibn Jim’a s section ;
Falih abu Ja’sha, of the ’Arqa section ;
Farraj, cousin of Fahh and of the same section.
The non-tribal elements were represented by the following ;
Sa’d ibn Ibrahim al Washmi of Dhrunia, who had si>(>cial charge of my camel, saddlery, etc ;
’Abdul Eahman ibn Khuraibish, also of Dhruma, in charge of the coffee-making ;
Zaid ibn Hubaish, the cook ;
’Abdul ’Aziz ibn Musainid, in charge of the tran.'^pori animals ;
And Sa’dan, my personal attendant alnauly sufliciinitly introduced.
Such was the party I joined at the rendezvou.s, a ])arty of fifteen including myself. Two of them were otluTwi.st' (>n- gaged when lunch was served to the rmnaining thirteen, while I ascertained that we were to pick up four other person.s during our passage of the Jafura desert to completi' our personnel of nineteen. To round off the catalogue 1. ivill set forth their names in this place, namely :
Humaid ibn Amhaj of the Manasir tribe (Al bu Pahtna group) ;
Sahh ibn ’Aziz, also of the-Manasir (Al bu .\landhar group) ; ’Ali ibn Sahh (?) of the Buhaih section of .Miirra ;
And Muhammad ibn Rashid, also of the Buhaih.
Our complete party had thus a satisfactory represmit at ion of the three important desert tribes : the Murra (no fewer than six), the Manasir (two) and the ’Ajman (three) ; but I could not help feehng some disappointment at the ab.sence of
11
THE CUETAIN RISES
aity repr6S6ntative of the southern tribes, such as the Sa’ar, Manahil, Rashid and other sections of Ahl Kathir. There had been none of these about in the Hasa at the time, and we could only hope that we might later on be able to recruit suitable individuals from some of them in the southern sands with the help of Ibn Jiluwi’s letters. Zayid and Ibn Ma’addi represented the town-bred element with tribal afanities, while the rest of the party were townees pure and simple with more or less specific functions.
So much for the human element of our expedition. We had 32 camels, all females except one gelding and all of various strains of the famous ’Umaniya breed whose rela¬ tionship to camel-kind in general is comparable to that of the Najd race among horses. Our animals were all bred to the sands, of the type known as Ramliyat,^ as opposed to those of the steppe, which are too heavily bred for work in the eternal sands. Three of them were milch animals,^ one of which was allotted by Ibn Jiluwi’s personal orders to my exclusive use. In money value the beasts ranged down from the princely sum of 500 dollars (about L25) to some 150 or 200. Such prices are considered high in Arabia at the present time though during the War they ranged a good deal higher. Doubtless in Egypt and the Sudan better prices are obtain¬ able for first-class riding camels.
We seemed to have a prodigious amount of stores, for we were provisioned on the assumption of a three months’ journey, and in fact there was precious Mttle left of anything when we re-entered the civilised world after two and a half months in the desert. Dates and rice formed the bulk of our commissariat (with two special skins of the best Khalas dates of the Hasa intended by the governor for my own use) , while coffee, tea, sugar and butter with accessories such as carda- mum, cinnamon, onions, salt, pepper, etc., had not been for¬ gotten. In fact the only serious omission, which I realised too late, was that of flour. Of that we had none for two and a half months — and often we longed for it. There is nothing
^ From Baml, meaning sand.
^ Called Miah (plural Mi8tih)‘—i.e,y milch -camels without their calves ; the term Khalfa is used of such animals when their calves are in attendance.
12
the empty QUAPvTEPv
more satisfying than a lump of coarse bread coolu'd in th(> ashes and kneaded with dates or sugar and butter to make the mess they call Hunaini. Eternal rice seasoned u'lth l)id tm- is apt to paU, especially when served up for the pre-dawn meal of the Ramdhan fast. It is true that, thanks to Sa. <lan, I had a dozen tins of biscuits for my own us(\ but swt^et biscuits do not fill the place of plain bread and 1 found it quite hard to empty the tins rapidly enough to serve as receptacles for the insects, fossils, and other things which 1 collected as we went along.
An optimist had come out with my conipanion.s tlu' pre¬ vious day in the hope of palming olT on nu' at a. good profit to himself a hawk which had apparently lieen giymi to him hy its previous dissatisfied owner. I imugiiK'd .d- hist' fh.it ilu' man was a member of our party and was jinqianal to aecom- modate myself to the circumstances, hut Sa'dan soon discovered the bird’s antecedents and, as Zayid deeliiu'il to vouch for its ability to do what is required of professional hawks, I excused myself from making the pun-ha.^e in tiiiu* for the disappointed salesman to get a ridi' hack to Huiul in the returning lorry. I noticed by our eanip lire a- .simple but. ingenious specimen of a bird-trap,’ but it was appaivnt ly left behind through somebody’s forgctfulne.ss and we remained without any means of catching the small birds of t he desm-t . I was ultimately able to secure a specimen of such a trap at Bisha, but then it was too late to he of any praetieal use, though I took advantage of the incident at- l)ulai((iya to explain to my companions my jiassion for eolleetiug birds, maTYimalR and other creatures and my rc'adinc'ss to reward any assistance I received from them in that, ilireetion.
Over our first meal and the cofTee that followc'd i1 wc' estabhshed a friendly and cordial atmo.sphere, and 1 was gratified to find that my coinpanion.s did not seriuusly n‘sent my firm opposition to their suggestion that it. would h(> better in the circumstances to defer our .start till the morrow. They would have preferred to spend the afternoon warming themselves over the fire, but we clearly could not aiTord to waste time gratuitously. Besides, with the King now a rri vta I
^ Called Fakh.
THE CURTAIN RISES 13
at Hufuf, I had every reavson to want to place ourselves beyond the reach of recall. So we set to work, striking the tents, packing my cases into the stout fibre saddle-bags^ of Hasa manufacture, and arranging the loads.
While my companions were loading up I strolled about examining the little plantation — a single stoutly -built grange of clay in a walled palm-grove of a couple of acres with a well. A small patch of millet stubble occupied some of the walled space, and some little fields of young wheat lay outside. The plantation seemed to be untenanted at the moment, its owner being a man named Ibn Wutaid of Dawasir origin. As a last contact with the civilisation we were leaving it was an un¬ inspiring httle. spot and the climatic conditions were horrible in the extreme. A cold, dull wind of moderate force blew over the bleak scene from the north-west, and our horizon was a wall of grey, damp mist through which every now and then came a faint reminder that the sun was somewhere beyond it. We could scarcely hope to make much progress during what remained of the afternoon, but we could make a start and that would at least enable us to get our marching routine going. I thought, too, with satisfaction, that a short ride would be a wise beginning for muscles long unaccustomed to camel-iiding. I had not ridden since the pilgrimage of the preceding April, when I had not been severely tested, while previous to that I had not done any serious camel riding since my journey from Rabigh to Wadi Eatima and back in 1925.
At 1.30 p.m. we made a start and the dim ghosts of the Dulaiqiya palms soon disappeared into the mist behind us. Almost immediately we passed the abandoned mud-grange of Qasr Qarradi in the midst of a sandy waste sprinkled here and there with scatters of pebbles, among which I noticed a good deal of whitish quartzite. A run-away camel necessi¬ tated a short halt to recapture it and adjust its load. Many of the beasts seemed indeed tb be very heavily loaded, though those carrying my own paraphernalia got oS very
^ These Mahmin (sing. MaUan), or Khasdif (sing. Khasifa), are ingen¬ iously made of palm-fibre woven round a skeleton of ropes, and the amount of wear and tear they stand is astonisliing.
14 THE EMPTY QUARTER
liditlT in comparison with the kitchen and commissariat aCi My oL mount was a huge bescit wsth a ventablo Z^ain Ot a hump, and I seemed to tower high aboye al Z tmpanions. Also I did not hnd A1 Bahra.«ya~for that WM her name in ahusion to the fact that she had come from Blain. a present from Shaikh Hamad to particularly comfortable. For all her length of stride she Zrched sluggishly and planted her feet rather heavily on
*’‘m°™w entered a tract of low sand-ridges profusely covered with shrubs of Shimn, from who.so honied ash they produce a soap reputed to be erceUent for laundry purposes The kindred Horn plant, apparently ot more suiiciiloiit structure, also produces a soap, though ot iiilorior (jiudih and injurious to clothing. In the midst ot tins uudulatiug area we came to and halted at Qasr Dhuwaibaii, a derelict iort- like building suggesting human occupation at some period in the distant past when there was water in wells or springs hir the purposes of agriculture. A profusion ot tamarisk hushes in the neighbourhood left, indeed, little doubt that we wi>re in the sand-choked bed of some old line of drainage, and t he discovery of a dry well-pit confirmed the impression. .1 he building, now in a ruinous condition, ajiiiears to have con¬ sisted of a two-storeyed fort about 40 paces square with an open courtyard about 25 paces square adjoining it on the east side, the axis of the whole lying roughly cast and wi'st. Among the ruins we found fragments ot common jifitteri , glass bangles and the hke, apparently similar to what, we. wc>re tofindlateratJabrin and the remnants found by Ma jor Iv. h. Cheesman at Salwa in 1921. What the age of siie.h irlies may he it would be difficult to say and I shall have occasion to discuss the matter more fully in connection with dabnii, but the feature that interested me most was the slabs and fragments of a highly fossiliferous and somewhat brittle rock, which the builders of the fort seem to liavo usi'd freely to reinforce their mud brickwork. As far as 1 know such rock has never been found in the Hasa area, and it would seenpthat the stuff must have been brought from the cUIIh along the coast at a considerable distance from this sjiot. Himilar
lissariat ^eritable bove all -for that [lie from Jiliiwi— ride she avily on
n’ofuscly ush they lur poses, ucbulc'nt ility and ing area liet fort- [)eriod in irings for k bushes IV e were , a 11(1 the [)U. 'bhe ave r.on- \ witli an it on tlu^ Old wc^st.
] lottery, t we wcux) ijor li, K. Uih n‘li(^s ! occuision !i Jabrin, rdabs and it il(‘ rock, iVcieiy to Buch rock Boenythat along th(^.
Biinilar
ma
at
wa:
cer
sig:
ab^
1
tii€
mu
pla
dis
we]
wii
the
pas
the
rou
]
coi we] ha( des exj cha waj ing the on. bai to ] mo eac wa' m>i hal sin
r
wa
air-
15
THE CURTAIN RISES
material is certainly to be found in the fort at Salwa but not at Jabrin, and would seem to be of Miocene age. If Dhu- waiban is a relic of tbe Carmathian occupation of the tenth century a.d. or thereabouts, it is now, as we saw by their signs, the abode of wolves and owls and hyenas. Man has abandoned the unequal struggle with the desert sand.
Almost immediately after resuming our march we entered the broad channel of a Sabkha, a band of salt-impregnated mud about 500 yards across, which divides the Ghuwaiba plain from the soft undulating sandy downs of the Mutaiwi district. The head of the saline channel is said to be at the wells of Khuwaira, whence it runs, roughly northward on a winding course, to the neighbourhood of Jisha and Taraf on the eastern confines of the great Hasa oasis. When I had passed through those parts on my way to and from ’Uqair there was a considerable lake or marsh to the south of the route.
I now noticed that Zayid, who professed to know all this country intimately, was diverging from the direct route to the wells of Mutaiwi which I had expressed a desire to see. He had indeed changed his mind with the idea of getting to a desirable camping spot without delay, and I considered it expedient to remonstrate very gently with him against any change of plans without consultation. He declared that he was not aware of my desire to see the altogether uninterest¬ ing wells, but without a word changed course again towards them. At the same time he sent the baggage animals straight on to an agreed camping place while we followed the right bank of the SabJcha channel for half an hour until we came to Mutaiwi, two small water-pits, two feet in diameter at the mouth and ten feet deep to the water level. The mouth of each pit was protected by a structure of woodwork and wattle, and round the wells is a wide circle of bare ground liberally covered with the droppings of sheep. Khuwaira, half an hour’s ride due south from Mutaiwi, also has two similar wells.
The afternoon being now sufficiently advanced, we drew water^ — ^pleasantly warm it seemed in contrast with the chiU air— for the requisite ablutions and lined up on the far from
THE CURTAIN RISES 17
ready The cold was now intense and my limbs seemed to have been stretched on the rack though we had ridden less than 10 miles. The camp-fire was a welcome sight indeed and I went to warm myself by it before visiting my tent. Unwisely, and until driven off by weeping eyes, I chose the warmer and smokier side of the fire, whose fuel was of pungent SMnan faggots. Stiff and cold, I would have been better advised to tramp about a bit to give my blood a chance of circulating. I chose the fire instead and my new friends plied me with cups of hot sweetened camel’s milk after I had drained the last of a pot of tea. Suddenly a feeling of unease came over me. I lay back against a friendly saddle to shake off what appealed to be a stupid fit of bihousness or chill— all to no purpose. I rose rather unsteadily to go to my tent and my compamons helped me down the slope to its door, seeing that I was not well. And there I went out in a dead faint, from which I came to apparently after about four minutes of hfelessness. According to Sa’dan, my face went yellow, and they thought I was finished ; but, on coming to, I had a per- ectly lucid idea of all that had happened and bundled myself into bed without delay, pihng every available rug and blanket over me and taking two aspirin tabloids to encourage per¬ spiration. In spite of the coarse wool and leather boots^ I was wearing I felt astonishingly cold in my feet, but that passed off when I had removed the boots and settled down to the generous warmth of blankets in a tent which kept off the cold wind. I soon began to feel well enough to wonder at such an occurrence at the very outset of a journey which presupposed complete fitness in the adventurer. I began to wonder, and could not help remembering that eighteen months before, during a hot July afternoon at Jidda, I had had a sudden and devastating reminder of the frailty of human life. Was this another — another warning from the Infinite to hasten the completion of my worldly tasks ? I wondered, and sank into the caressing arms of sleep. And the morning and the evening were the first day.
1 These .Zora6i7 (sing. Zarbnl) are made in the Hasa for the Badawin and are more like snow-boots than anything else.
CHAPTER II
NOETHERN JAFIJRA
The voice of ’Ali Jahman, calling to tlu; dawn [)ra_v(‘r, awoke me at 6 a.m. No trace remained of the (“vening's iiulisjiosi- tion, and I rose from my bed refresluHl as a giant to run Ids course. It was an auspicious day, the eightli ofdanuary, the anniversary of Ibn Sa’ud’s public acclaniation as King of the Hijaz in the great mosque of Mecca in a plf'asant date
in my calendar, and surely a propitious one fnr Mu' lirst. full day’s march of our great adventure. It was .also, ollic.iallv, the last day of the month of Sha'bcm .-i.nd tlu* ticw moon, if seen that night, would usher in the gnuit fa.sf of Hiniulhan on the morrow. There was no sign of tlu' last, fragment of the waning satellite in the dark sky of the false <lawn, Imt th(>rc was a heavy ground mist overlying the d(*.sert and vi.sildlity was very poor.
I bundled out of the tent, barefooted, to rang<‘ myself with the rest of my companions behind Ihn .M.a’addi, who led the prayer. The sand under foot wa.s intoh'rahly cold .and 1 noticed that most of the men wore their ‘ snow-boots d'ho Wahhabi code is astonishingly reason.-dde. in sueh imattens, and I have seen sandals on the feet of wonshipja-rs on the painful gravel-strewn floors of the Riyadh mo.s((ues as w('ll a.s in the steppe desert. One prays bandooted unle.s.s then* is good reason for doing otherwise .and each man .answcr.s only to his own conscience in the matter. Iiuivitahly some l.axdty is produced by such latitude, but the main object of tlu' code is to secure or enforce regularity of ])raye.r i»y removing all obstacles thereto.
It was too cold to think of marching yet awhile, and W(5 forc.- gathered round the camp-fire to warm ourHc-lvcH with tea, coffee and hot milk. It would bo time enough io start when
IS
northern JAFURA 19
the sun had infused some of his warmth into the chilly world around us. I reclined against a skin containing, as I thought salt or sugar. It was a skin of water frozen hard, for they had laid the water hags round about the fire to thaw them ! My thermometer, placed outside the tent, recorded 27° Fahr -five degrees of frost. To think of such things in Arabia,' proverbial for its fierce heat ! Yet for the past month or more at Riyadh and in the desert and at Hufuf, there had been frost and ice at frequent intervals. It was one of the coldest winters in the memory of living men, and it was cer¬ tainly my first experience and knowledge of temperatures actua,lly below freezing-point in Najd. No wonder that the sand h'ad seemed hke ice under foot, burning my soles as with red-hot needles !
Our camp lay in a hollow surrounded by dunes, and the mist, a good deal lighter than on the previous day, allowed a fairly clear view for several miles around. But the scene was utterly featureless except for the low hillock of Thuwair, to which we should come early in the day’s march. The sea was said to lie to our eastward a good day’s journey by express
The transport animals having preceded us by 10 minutes, we started off at 9 a.m. after a good warm breakfast of boiled rice. In less than an hour, marching over low sandy downs succeeded by a vast flat plain of light gravel, we came to the group of low parallel ridges that constitute Thuwair. Two hiUocks, some distance apart, rise substantially higher than the general level of the ridges and, sending the baggage train ahead, a small party of us ascended one of them to enjoy such view as might be afforded by its summit. According to my companions the palm-groves of Hasa can easily be seen from here on a fine day, but we saw nothing but mist. The Thuwair tract extends some three miles east and west with sand aU round, the short ridges being echeloned one behind another. Its surface, lightly covered with sand and profusely strewn with hard white pellets of the disintegrated parent rock, seemed to be whitish sandstone,^ weathering to a pale pint-ish hue. Whether it is a normal marine sedimentary formation ^ For geological andl petrological details see Appendix,
20
THE EMPTY qi'AK'Vtm
or of aeolian origin cannot perhaps 1)(^ (hhi'rniiiKMl with any certainty, but the absence of Inssils from all. this vast tract, including the Summan and the Hasa- distri<‘t, is (piite re¬ markable. Geologically the eastern desnrt would scann to overlie the Cretaceous protruding from tlu^ 'Anna- u[)lands, the intermediate Eocene and the Mioecnu'. of thc^ Jihaii depressions.
A chilly wind made our short sojourn on tho 'fhuwair eminence, barely 100 feet above tlu^geiuanl hvcl ofUHMhvca’t, exceedingly unpleasant, and wo wi^'c glad (uiough io df'soond from our perch and resume the mandn My comfjanions had perhaps begun to wonder wdiat manner of man this was tliat sought every possible occasion of dis(s>ndori to satisfy a profitless curiosity. After all, tluu'e was nothing to s(m\ so why go out of one’s way to look for ii i In all this I'oimtrv and, in fact, as far southward as Anhak no rain had yet fallen this season and the desert hon^ a. very parched asjHa'.t with scanty dry tufts of the fannliar dr/W/ and Thdinatn anda reedy grass, new to me, called Anddh. During tln^ pnwaous afternoon’s march one of my (Knupanions had lu'ought nu^ a flowered shaft of the ohsccne desfui fungus known as Dhanun, It had been half eaten by a. tox. hut ('aniiot he eaten by man. Its cousin, mon^ ohsecuu* in ap[){‘araiu^cx because more naked, the Tarthuth or ' Descui Penis', of which also they brought me a spcau'nuu) soon after leaving Thuwair, is however edible hy liuman })(‘ings, a salutary purge.
What with the cold and the sluggish gait of my enormous steed — and nothing is more tiring than (^ontinual goariing of a lazy camel with one’s heel ap})lied to the base of the nvAi and shoulder — I found the initial stillness resulting from tlie first day’s short ride getting worse as tlu^ mareli progress<‘(i. Once or twice my saddle had to be adjustcMl, for tht* fundiginus hump of A1 Bahraniya defied all th(‘- elTorts of Su'd the groom to saddle her comfortably or efT<ietively. XYna-rt heless we did a good day’s march in spite of a determimHi but uimuo cessful effort on the part of Zayid to curtail it. ludbre we entered the great dune tract of A1 Arugluunmidha whi<di was so utterly bare of vegetation that, once entered, ihnm enuld
NORTHERN JAEURA 21
be no question of halting until we had passed out of it on the further side. Slowly but surely I began to take stock of my companions, as they too of me. Zayid kept himself at all times conspicuously in the limehght, and the rest for the moment seemed to maintain a discreet reserve, especially the Badawin elements, among whom ’Ah Jahman stood out in a class by himself— a strange, mysterious, brooding crea¬ ture of fine physique and strikingly handsome Semitic features. His closer acquaintance would obviously be well worth cultivating, and I was attracted by his apparent aloof¬ ness. I knew of course that he was to be our chief guide as soon as we came to the serious business of the expedition. He was, moreover, _a cousin of Hamad ibn Sultan ibn Hadi who had served Bertram Thomas in a similar capacity the year before. And in his early days he had served some sort of apprenticeship in the Ihhwan movement, though he was too wedded to the life of the desert to go as far as taking up residence in any of the colonies of the brotherhood. He had however acquired a certain degree of proficiency in the scriptures, while a voice of unusual charm would have assured him of success in the role of parish priest had not the lure of the sands kept him free of such shackles. As I after¬ wards came to know, he had the Semitic avarice in more than full measure, gnawing mercilessly at his soul.
Beyond the Thuwair tract the country gradually developed into a vast flattish, sandy wilderness with slight undulations and occasional small patches of gravel. Afar off to the left appeared a long line of lofty sand-billows. It was so cold that animal life seemed totally in abeyance, and the only living creature we saw during the morning was a raven. The sand in the depressions and on exposed slopes was much rippled and ridged by the wind, while the lines of dunes seemed to be uniformly oriented with their long axis lying east and west. The smooth, rounded sides of the dunes lay northward, while the characteristic sharp escarpments of their crests faced southwards over a hollow, semi-circular or shaped like a horseshoe. Within such hollows and at the base of the dunes there was generally a light scatter of gravel or an exposure of the bed-rock forming the foundation of all
iJtiJi; juMri'i; yuAKTJiJtt
22
this tract. As we advanced eastward and south-eastward the horseshoe formation tended to disappear in favour of ridges of oval shape with the sand uniformly disposed at an easy gradient all round them. The he of the sands suggested a prevalent north wind, and it was certainly a very bleak north wind that blew chilly upon us as we marched.
Just before noon we entered a tract called ’Araif after passing over a series of low sand-ridges. It was a vast sand- plain without any kind of feature, but heavily furrowed with wind and fairly well covered with dry vegetation. Just before reaching the spot selected for a short mid-day halt we noticed that we were being pursued by two men, and my heart sank at the thought that they were perhaps messengers sent by the King to recall us. They proved to be Kahad ibn Tsa and Jabir, myrmidons of Ibn Jiluwi, who had come out on our trail with some business papers from the Minister of Finance, which should have been dealt with before my departure but had been overlooked in the turmoil preceding the King’s arrival. His Majesty, they told us, had duly arrived an hour or two after we had left and apparently intended to spend a good part of the month of Eamdhan at Hufuf. At any rate he had sent forth messengers to search out the daughter of Ibn Nuqaidan, one of the leading Murra chiefs, that he might wed and be comfortable during his sojourn. As the papers sent out to me required more con¬ sideration than I could spare for them during our halt we
took Fahad and his companion along with us to our evening’s camp. °
The ridges of the Thuwair tract may be regarded as the northern limit towards Hasa of the great Jafura desert, which ^ itself a northward-thrusting promontory of the Rub' al :^ali. The ’Araif tract is thus well within the borders of Jahma, and our south-eastward course during the afternoon earned us over a featureless sandy waste, in which one low ridge was named to me by Zayid as ’Arq al Adhir, so-caUed from the abundance in it of the pleasantly green Adhir plant which, at a,ny rate in northern Najd, is spurned by camels, and generally regarded as poisonous to them. I was there¬ fore astomshed to see my camel stretch forth her long neck
NORTHERN JAFURA 23
towards the stufE and crop great mouthfuls of it with apparent satisfaction. It seems that the ’Umaniya camels are bred to eat the plant and suffer no iU effects. Another plant that now began to be a prominent feature in the scene — ^to con- us for practically the rest of our wanderings- was the Abal, growing to the tree-hke stature of 5 or 6 feet with trunks of substantial girth, which provide excellent fuel. Its roots are often 20 feet or more in length and seemed to spread out horizontally over the sands.
Half way through the afternoon we entered the bare dune- tract of A1 Mughammida, forming apparently part of the great band of similar character which had gradually been converging on our route from the left and which extends eastward to and along the sea coast. The name of this tract suggests limitation on the traveller’s outlook, and we meandered bhndly among the dunes, generally of the typical horseshoe pattern, seeking a way through the maze. As we advanced the undulations became more and more imposing, our course being dictated by the contours of the hummocks which often ran together in parallel groups. At times we had to descend steep slopes, our camels lurching heavily down to my growing discomfort as my stiffness increased. ’Ah’s sharp eyes soon picked up the tracks of a party of five camels that had passed this way as recently as the previous evening, doubtless a party of Murra folk returning to their grazing cattle in the further sands. The riders had done a good deal of walking to ease their beasts in the heavy going, and one of them was a girl — ay, said ’Ah, and a virgin, and may be beautiful as are often the girls of our people. We were to see those same tracks again and again on the morrow, though we never saw their makers, until finahy they diverged from our route and we regretfully abandoned the pursuit of the fair one, whose hght and jaimty tread had distinguished her trail from that of a matron. Why ! said ’Ah, we Murra, if we know a camel, can with complete.certitude identify the tracks of its off-spring though we may never have seen it.
A broad band of dung-peUets in the midst of generations of obhterated or ah-but-obhterated camel-tracks pointed the way to the watering of Bir al Nabit, whose exact position in
the otherwise featureless ocean of bare, rolling dunes is further marked by two low pyramids of sand. At least so they appeared as viewed from the west though they merged mysteriously in the general welter of undistinguishable billows as we drew near. These two peaks are known as Niqyan al Bir. We came to the well itself about 4 p.m. Ijdng at the very foot of a steep sand-slope which seems to threaten it with extinction. There was formerly, indeed, a second well not far off to the north, which now lies buried deep under a great dune. These wells were sunk by and form the pivot of the wanderings of the ISTabit section of Murra. The existing shaft is nine fathoms deep to water, the upper portion to a depth of some ten feet being cleared through-loose sand and lined with a structure of wood and wattle to prevent its faUing in. The remainder of the shaft is sunk through a reddish sandstone, and the water is brackish. The well- mouth is a rough square of three feet each way.
A pair of ravens withdrew warily to the safe summit of a neighbouring dune on our approach, while a Bifasciated Lark, bolder but less intelligent, fell to my gun, my com¬ panions being quite astonished at my shooting it on the wing. They prefer sitting shots to husband their ammunition.
Our baggage animals now being a long way behind, we could not draw- water from the well and contented ourselves with the substitute sand-ablutions to prepare ourselves for the belated afternoon prayer. We then continued our march through the same maze of dunes and hollows, seeking as easy a passage as possible in the circumstances. At length we came to the end of the tedious dune-tract and struck out over a pntly undulating sand-plain to the exposed rock-ridge of laarza, where we halted to camp for the night. A Rimilar- n ge, called Manifa, lay at a considerable distance to the sa d ' around us was an unreheved monotony of
I was glad enough to dismount, and stroUed about to ease my racked muscles. It is quite extraordinary how camel- Tuhng caUs into play nerves and sinews which seem to lie Idle m aU other occupations whatsoever. I was mentaUy and physicaUy radiant with well-being, though I behaved
NORTHERN JAFURA 25
absurdly like an octogenarian in all that concerned rising from and sitting down on the ground. But it was all good training, I thought, for the serious business of months of desert- wandering before us, and I congratulated myself on the brilliant idea of prefacing the attack on the Empty Quarter with a preliminary canter of exploration in the Jafura desert. By the time we should arrive at Jabrin I would be hardened or acclimatised, while, if I proved unfit, we would still be near enough to civilisation to turn back. So for the time being I lowered myself gingerly to a sitting position and unashamedly sought the assistance of my companions’ sympathetic shoulders and arms in rising to my feet. As for mounting A1 Bahraniya during these early days of stiffness, I simply did not attempt it without an army of assistants.
The Ediarza ridge, rising to a height of some 40 or 50 feet above the surrounding plain, is no more than an exposure of the undulating bedrock forming the desert floor under the sands. It was about half a mile in length lying north-east and south-west, apparently of sandstone in two shades of dirty pink with a whitish layer on the surface, which was profusely strewn with pebbles of curious shapes weathered out of the friable, ever-disintegrating rock. Most noticeable and very plentiful were flat copper-coloured discs resembling pennies scattered on the ground. The plain, unlike the Mughammidha tract behind us, was fairly well covered with rather parched vegetation and the camels found plenty to eat, while the Abal bushes provided us with aU the fuel we wanted.
Just before reaching the dunes round Bir al Nabit we had encountered another of Ibn Jiluwi’s men, Nasir, who had gone with ’Abdul Latif to rescue my belongings from the derelict car which had in due course been brought in safely to ’Uqair. My servant having decided to go off to Bahrain, Nasir had struck out alone for Bir al Nabit and, not finding there any record of our passage, had wandered slowly along in the direction of the Hasa in the hope of meeting us. I was glad to have my possessions back again in my keeping, and it was pleasant enough to have the society of the three
X XX XU XX u 1 Hi It,
extra men over our evening meal. We also had other visitors, for ’Ali Jahman had gone off before we dismounted at Kharza to scour the surrounding country for Badaw' encampments with the idea of buying a sheep for our dinni'' He had only encountered a single family of the Shaiba sub¬ section of the G-hafran, his own group, but they had no ammals worth purchasing. They had, however, scented the prospect of dinner and during the evening an old man and two lads came over to our camp to share our rice. That thev
did TOth a gusto suggesting that they had not had a square meal for some time. “4uare
At sunset aU eyes were riveted on the darkening western sky m search of the moon’s young crescent, but our seeking was m ™ and we turned to our dinner with the knowledg! that we had been granted a day’s respite from the fast. tL official calendar in the preparation of which I had played a modest part with the assistance of the Nautical Almanac, had aUowed oidy 29 days for Sha^ban, but the opening and ulti mate breatog of the fast are inertorably deUdfnTl tte' Sighting of the moon, faffing which the maximum tale of tffirty dys must be allowed to each month concerned. So ha ban had automaticaUy lengthened out to 30 days and we thought optimisticaUy that, by the general law of Jompensa
tion we should offiyhave to face 29 days of fasting.
On the whole the day had passed off well enough and we
Sfa'Sfaftefl”- o^y been majd
Ws arranpments. I had insisted on my
arir^es te a“ T*" r*""
that daring the march ttev barf '
X‘°he:r‘ii:rofT°-
-SrS a ~”jSon
though I felt that a vnm, a “^8^ spirit of accommodation,
left lihind bX ilSr
f no mordent. Fahad was indeed suborned to
NORTHERN JAFURA 27
lecture me on the urgency of lightening aU burdens as far as possible, and was rather taken aback at my simple suggestion that the proper course in such circumstances was not to jeopardise my dehcate paraphernalia but to hire extra camels from the Badawin to lighten the burdens of the other carriers. The trouble in such cases always arises from the fact that the Arab accommodates himself but slowly to any needful modification of a routine developed by generations of carry¬ ing. He simply does not understand that a load is not just a load. The stranger’s point of view is apt to be regarded as unreasonable, but there could be no yielding on the point and my companions shuddered at my suggestion that, if some lightening of loads was really necessary, we could send back the tents by the three men who would be going back to Hufuf on the morrow.
The maximum temperature of the day had been only 59°, and next morning, with a recorded minimum of one degree below freezing-point, our water skins were again frozen hard. The desert air had a knife-sharp edge, and we cowered over the fire again until the sun had tempered it somewhat. The three men returning to civilisation were first ofi the mark, and it was past 9 a.m. when we said good-bye to our aged Marri visitor and his sons to launch out again over the rolling sand-field past the Kharza ridge. Afar off on our right ap¬ peared the long low coast of another rocky ridge called Khartam, but in general the landscape was a featureless waste with occasional bare patches of the pinkish bed-rock until, in due course, we came to a line of higher dunes of soft sand.
On the way we passed between scattered groups of the camels of the Buhaih section, grazing on the dry grasses^ and Abal bushes of the plain. We exchanged greetings with a girl of the Zaqiba subsection who appeared to be in sole charge of the pasturing herds, though her father’s tent was doubtless not far off in some sheltering hollow. A lonely life it is, indeed, of the herding nomads, though no longer in Ibn Sa’ud’s broad dominions a life of constant fear as it was in former days. Yet hunger is the rule of the desert with httle
^ Thamam and SahaU
XilJi JBJiViri X yUAKTJiJK,
but butter and milt to stay its pangs. And in the winter it is cold. The girl shivered under the folds of her ragged mantle as she told us what she knew of the dispositions of the various famihes and subsections of her group.
The sun gradually filtered through the mist and the morn¬ ing warmed up under the influence of a mild southerly breeze which had taken the place of the chill northern blasts. For the first time since leaving the Hasa we began to feel ahve as we plodded on over the changeless scene. ’Ali Jahman, riding a great whitish beast which was held to be the best in all our party, rode far ahead with Zayid, on his dark brown Dara'iya?- camel, in attendance, gossiping about his ex¬ periences on a recent tax-collecting expedition to the south¬ eastern districts along the frontier of Oman, from which he had only returned at the beginning of Sha’ban. In those parts, he declared, he had often seen and shot the wild ass which frequents the vaUey country of Ash’ab al Ghaf under Jabal Hafit. And the women of the Manasir are passing fair. If God wills, he said, I would go thither again next year and perhaps Shaikh ’AbduUah will go with us to see that country, which is better than this desert. Everywhere you toU see palm-groves and villages and rich pastures. It is a fair land and the folk are hospitable, but there is a girl among = would wed. I was interested to hear from him that ibn 8a ud s mfluence is felt to-day in all the Dhahira countrv as they call the tract westward of the Oman massif, including of course Buraimi, a Wahhabi centre of long standing, and apparently even Tbri. These tax-coUecting expechtions scarce y, perhaps, do more than pay the expenses involved in
spread
gospel of Wahhabi peace and Arabian unity. Slowly
broaden out
wards from the centre, and the Manasir may be counted
Se aTcentI?'1l^^^^“ *i^®rn but
rmlK n f ^^''^rgnty and the maintenance of the
Sde Hmitations in the capacity
merisms, but he was a born story-teUer, with a strange,
So-oaJIed because bred by the DW tribe of the Oman border.
NORTHERN JAEURA
29
dry, staccato style, and never tired of inflicting Mmself on some member of the party. His fund of conversation was inexhaustible, and he showed a curious resentment at any attempt on my part to draw on the funds of the others.
Both Zayid and ’Ali rode in the fashion of Oman, now squatting and now kneeling on the neat, hght saddle, known as Hcculani and set well back towards the cameFs rump with only the small wooden vices of the frame gripping the hump fore and aft. Their riding was entirely by balance, and it seemed to me that the southern saddle was a great improve¬ ment on the ponderous structure of Najd. It was hghter and more compact, but it reduced the storage capacity of the saddle-bags, ^hich in Oman are made smaller to fit across the narrow rump, providing a seat for the rider actually on and between the flaps. The rifle is fitted at the trail under a bag instead of being slung, as in Najd, from the rear pole of the saddle-frame. For my purposes the capacious Najdi saddle¬ bags were more useful, but at this stage I was suffering agonies from the rough paces and sluggish gait of A1 Bahran- iya. My joints ached again and I was as stiff as could be. Yet the beast had been especially selected for my riding by Ibn Jiluwi himself, an expert in all that pertained to camel- mastery. The trouble was that the animal had been too long at the pastures, and had grown a hump which looked better than it felt. In other hands she would probably have performed very differently, and the opinion gradually matured among my companions that I should be transferred, at any rate temporarily, to another animal. It was not, however, till the fifth day of the march that I exchanged mounts with Sa’dan with astonishingly satisfactory results due, perhaps, in part to the fact that my stiffness had then worn off — quite suddenly as it generally does. Later, when I resumed riing A1 Bahraniya, I experienced no further dis¬ comfort though her walk was never anything but sluggish and it was always irksome egging her on. Only once after¬ wards did I exchange her for another animal for a few hours when we found it necessary to speed up our progress, while for the final desert crossing Zayid took her and I rode Na’riya, the great white brute now forging ahead under 'Ali Jahman.
30
THE EMPTY QUARTER
It was at the trot that A1 Bahraniya showed her true merits, her paces being perfect, though in desert travel such as ours there is little or no trotting. I rode her, however, during the pilgrimage and could have found nothing more charming.
What are you two talking about, I asked of Zayid and ’Ah riding up to them on one occasion, that you ride so far ahead, forgetting us aU — perhaps secrets that you would not have me hear 1 No, laughed ’Ali, just gossiping, talking of jour¬ neys, raids and women. That is the way with us Badu, we wear away time and distance with our talk. I had noticed a few stray locusts as we rode and asked them if they had seen any swarms. ’Ah had seen them in large numbers during three days about the beginning of Sha’ban in the Habl district about ’Araira, whither he had gone with the governor of the Hasa on a bustard-shooting expedition. I had myself seen an immense flight of the insects in the ’Arma uplands about the same time while similarly engaged with the King, and the great cars charging through them in pursuit of bustard must have slain tens of thousands. The mangled corpses decorated the radiators, while insects in flight hurtled against our heads and faces hke rifle-bullets. Zayid had also seen swarms at Sikak at the same time when returning by that way from his Oman expedition. The swarm seen by myself had appeared to be moving south, but it missed the Hasa by some dispensation of Providence and does not seem to have done any damage to crops within the borders of Arabia.
We halted for an hour about noon in the plain of Marbakhi al Sa’qa for coffee, and I made the most of the mist-filtered sunshine to wander about in search of insects among the scanty gravel-patches amid the sands. My whole bag con¬ sisted of a single desert Mantid. Otherwise there was not a sign of fife anywhere though I noticed the trails of larks rinming in and out among the bushes seeking their food. Little mounds of sand lay to the south-east of the bushes, while in the open the surface was ruffled into surf-Hke crests breaking iu the same direction from the long smooth waves
DaswCS “ slightly undulating desert
NORTHERN JAFURA
31
behind them. Higher dunes lay far out to the north-east in a patch called ’Atshan, while another group south of it was Hidab with the wells of Bahath a mile or more eastward of it in a broad patch of gravel, which was shortly to traverse our path, forming a break in the continuity of the Jafura sands. The gravel tract is known as A1 Ghafa and extends southward to a line of sand-ridges, in which at some distance we saw a party of graziers with their camels. Suddenly the cry went up : Look, plenty of fuel, bushes everywhere and pasture ! That was the signal to halt, dismount and camp for the night not far from a large and prominent barrow of sand known as Zubara Mahmid, the sand-ridges in our neighbourhood mark¬ ing the resumption of Jafura after the gravel strip. The country seemed to be better favoured in the matter of vegetation than anything we had already seen, but our luck was out so far as meat was concerned. The Buhaih herds¬ men we had observed came over to our camp with a brace of very thin sheep for which they demanded ten dollars. To my surprise Zayid, who thought they were worth no more than five, stood out resolutely against more than seven dollars being offered and the bargain fell through. Meanwhile the young crescent of the new moon was spotted high up in the — obviously a second-night moon — and we hailed the advent of Ramdhan, The fast is, of course, not an obligation of the traveller, but we had all agreed to keep it during our journey, as do the Badawin in their normal wanderings. Our kitchen, after we had disposed of the usual rice dinner in company with our visitors, was therefore in a bustle all night adjusting itself to the new situation, which postulated a sub¬ stantial meal — a sort of morning supper— -between 4 and 5 a.m. before the dawn call to prayer, after which there might be neither eating nor drinking until the usual breakfast at sunset. Smoking and sexual intercourse are similarly pro¬ hibited during the daylight hours, but these particular hard¬ ships were in our circumstances little more than formalities our party including at the moment only one smoker, Earraj the ’Arqani, as I had forsworn tobacco temporarily since leaving my home at Mecca nearly two months before and maintained the taboo till my return thither in April. Sa’dan
32 THE EMPTY QUARTER
had also proclaimed Ms intention of giving ^ tlie habit by leaving all Ms smoking apparatus behind at Hufuf.
Zaid and Ibn Musaimd rose nobly— almost too nobly indeed-to the occasion, for it was barely 4 a.m. when I was aroused from my slumbers by the announcement of supper, a large dish of plain boiled rice, for wMch that first morning I fomd myself with little appetite. The change of moon had brought a remarkable change in the weather. Instead of the frosts of the first days, the day dawned dull and cloudy with a touch of milii sultriness in the air, but the sun failed of Ms duty and by noon it seemed to be colder than at dawn with a fresh blustering south-west wind to stir up the sand about us. After supper the camp composed itself again for slumber wMch was in due course interrupted by the call to prayer— and again they slumbered. But whether it was these dis¬ turbances of our normal regime or the satisfactory change in the temperature or some other reason, everybody seemed to be astir at 7 a.m. and it was I that delayed our start by insisting onpacMng away the specimens of rock, insects, etc., collected during the previous day’s march. I felt that I would have to develop a routine suitable to the new condi¬ tions, and celebrated the beginning of Bamdhan by forgetting to wind my watches, which had, of course, run down when I nest looked at them at our evemng camp. That was a most disastrous lapse, for which I have never forgiven myself though it proved not altogether irreparable as I shall explain later.
It was 8 a.m. when we started out on what was to prove a good day’s march of exceptional interest. I thought com¬ fortingly that the Bamdhan penance would obviate un¬ necessary halts by the way, but we had marched little more than two hours when my cMlly companions clamoured for a halt to warm themselves by a fire. I told them they could please themselves but that I should not be sitting over a fire in the event of a stoppage. So we continued for another hour before liaiting to let our tuansport get well on in advance.
At starting the long line of the high Mashura dunes, an eastward promontory of Jafura, was visible afar off across our path beyond the gently undulating wilderness, in which many groups of grazing Badawin were settled down to enjoy
NORTHERN JAEURA
33
the favourable pastures. Most of the morning indeed we seemed to be within hail of camels or human beings, and it was here that at last we parted company with the tracks of the pretty girl and her small party, which we had first en¬ countered near Bir al Nabit. They had gone off to the left doubtless to seek out their tents and cattle. On the right lay an encampment of a small group of the Manasir and in the same direction we saw at a distance the tents of the folk who had visited us during the night, one group of seven tents and another of three or four a httle apart. A little further on we were accosted by a small party of the Rashid sub¬ section (of Buhaih), who came hieing across the sands from their tents with a charming white Saluqi hound in attend¬ ance. They say that, of all the Arabian tribes, the Murra and Manasir breed the best hunting dogs and we had agreed among ourselves to annex one if we could to keep the pot going with hares in collaboration with my 12-bore gun and the rifles of my companions.
Very beautiful is the meeting of Arabs in the desert, with their greetings of each other — ^very formal, very long-drawn- out and repetitive, for every member of each party exchanges the same friendly enquiries and assurances with each member of the other, until all have greeted all, and they part or proceed to any business that may be in hand. Peace be upon you ! And on you be peace ! How is your state, oh Salih ? In peace ; how are you, oh ’Ah ? In peace ! May God give you health ! May God improve your condition ! How are you ? In peace ! And then follows the abrupt transition to business with : What is your news ? In most cases, of course, parties meeting thus casually in the desert contain mutual acquaintances, while a man like ’Ali Jahman would be well-known, at least by repute, to everyone. He himself claimed to know personally the heads of every family of the Murra and to have a fairly large acquaintance among the rest, especially in his own clan, the Ghafran. Zayid too appeared to be fairly well-known to the groups we met and was, of course, a person of some consequence. I was begin¬ ning to find that he improved on acquaintance and certainly appeared to have the best intentions towards myself, but I
the empty quarter
could not bring myself to play up to his manifest poUcy of Z^ng a corner in my attention and favours and he was Wi Jng to be jealous and suspicious of ’Ah, with whom I Sednning to make satisfactory headway now that the rstinctie caltion of his desert-bred soul had begun to thaw in the give-and-take of daily association yi^h me.
Major Cheesmani has suggested that the Hurra converse with Lch other in a dialect which is not intelligible to other Arabs but I found nothing in my experiences to justify such a conclusion. On the contrary their speech is not only un¬ questionably Arabic but a particularly beautiful, almost Lsical, Arabic at that. In many ways it reminded me strongly of the language of the Hijaz mountein (hstiicts round Taif, the language of the Quraish and Bam Sufyan, who share with the Murra the characteristic softemng of the J sound to Y and the labiation of the peculiarly Arabic sound caUed DJutd, the DH of our transhteration. I have heard the Bani Sufyan refer to the capital of Najd as Riyal, while the Murra pronounce Haral for Haradh, but I shall have to revert to this subject in connection with the Manasir whose acquaintance I was yet to make. According to ’Ali Jahman, and as one would expect, every tribe has its Lughwa or dia¬ lectical mannerisms, but the language they all speak the Murra, Manasir, ’Awamir, Bani Kathir, Sa’ar, etc.— is Arabic and they appear to have nothing in the nature of a true dialect or Batna. Even the Harasis, he declared, speak and understand ordinary Arabic, but not the Mahra who have a dialect which is not intelligible to other Arabs. I can only speak of my own experience of the true Arab tribes, and, without trespassing on the more controversial aspects of the question, I would hazard the conclusion that the dialects of the south, inevitably exposed to corrupting influences from overseas and from the ancient neighbouring civilisations of the Yaman and the Hadhramaut, represent a linguistic hotch-potch of generally Semitic character rather than the remnants of pure aboriginal tongues of non-Semitic origin. But the matter is evidently one that merits the closest study, and it is satisfactory to know that Mr. Bertram Thomas is ^ In Unhnown Arabia^ p. 225.
NORTHERN JAEURA
35
engaged on such, a study of the Hnguistic and other material which has led him to views in conflict with the conclusion I have here stated somewhat summarily. As regards the Murra, however, it seems to me that Major Chessman’s sug¬ gestion must be dismissed as untenable. He did not himself profess to be an Arabic scholar, and his difficulty in under¬ standing his Murra acquaintances may safely be attributed to the fact that the Badawin of Arabia have not attuned their conversational ideas to the prosaic standards of the modem world. They still think and speak in poetical terms, in proof of which I may quote a sentence from the conversation of the Marri, Muhammad ibn Humaiyid, on the very march whose' incidents I am recording : There came Mfe {i.e. rain), said he, in the autumn but the cold has burned it {i.e. the herbage) up. In the realm of thought the Arabian nomad — and to some extent also the Arabian townsman — ^is poles apart from the sophisticated product of Western systems of education, and the influence of rehgion on conversation is as clearly marked in the Arabia of to-day as it was in the England of the Puritans.
It was at this stage of our march that we collected two more recruits for our expedition from the camp of the Rashid subsection, to which Zayid and ’Ah had turned aside to engage their services. The new men, Muhammad ibn Rashid and ’Ah al Buhaihi, increased our total Marri strength to six and were specificaUy engaged as herdsmen to watch over our beasts at the pastures. They would ride any available camel, generaUy perched on the top of baggage, and no specific payment was stipulated for. They would just take their chance of my bounty hke the rest and, in so doing, they did relatively better for themselves than some of their more distingmshed feUows. But they worked hard and the lad Muhammad, in particular, was to prove a great asset to our expedition.
Our route lay over typical Mdrhakh country— a flattish, sandy tract with a profusion of dried-up grasses and some scattered bushes . A diversion was created by the appearance of a pair of vultures,^ at which Ibn Humaiyid had an un-
1 Nasr,
gg the empty quarter
successful shot after some elaborate manceurfng wMe Sman, his close relative, stoutly refused to try his p^we» ou such creatures. The Oryit-hunter. ho said by way Ewtouatiou, does not go after such camon But it trans- pSater that, in the days when he hml studied rehgion seSusly, his teacher had discouraged the shooting of the ™clLi bird. ’Ali had once progressed suiiioiently m his
rLtobeabletoread,buthehadnevergottothesta6eot
”“mg, and now he had even forgotten the art of reading, Wvin? no time tor study. Nevertheless he ever and anon betrayed a strange intellectual curiosity-uncommon among the Mowin and even among the oMis-dweUem and he was intrigued by my vigorom pursuit of what he imagined to be the sciences. He felt mstmctively ttat I would not waste my time collecting insects Jmd pebbles if there was nothing to be got out of them. He just wondered
wTl 8j1j it) 4? 1 • X 4.
In due course the sand gave way to a vast expaMe of hght aravel dotted with bushes of Bimdh and 'Arrad. The dune¬ line of Jafura circled round on our right at a distance of a mile or two to recrdss our path ahead in the Mashura pro¬ montory And here and there broad strips of light sand lay across the gravel plain. We passed another nomad encamp¬ ment and I was surprised to see a Painted Lady butterfly flutter away before us in the breeze from a pile of camel-dung in an abandoned camping site. It was the first butterfly seen since we had left the Hasa, and one of a very small number seen during these months of wandering. Tracks of bustard were observed quite frequently, but only once during these early days did we have a distinct glimpse of the bird itself, which has now grown very timid of man’ s presence and is b eing rapidly thrust back into the more inaccessible parts of the desert by the new habit of hunting them with motor cars . Ibn Jiluwi, like the King himself, decimates them at the rate of 60 or 60 a day in his shooting expeditions, and one wonders how long the bird, presumably a migrant visitor to Arabia, where it breeds, wUl take to develop an aversion for those parts of the country where cars can overtake their rapid flight. Another seasonal migrant, the Cream-coloured
NORTHERN JAFURA 37
Courser/ was seen fairly often but was by no means as plentiful as I have found it in other parts of the country. The Gazelle we never saw in the sands of the Great Desert between Hufuf and Sulaiyil, but a more astonishing absentee was, perhaps, the sand-grouse, which is plentiful in the Hasa but •was not seen again until we got to Sulaiyil.
As we marched thus over the plain of alternating sand and gravel they pointed out the direction of the wells of Qarain, about two hours’ ride away in the midst of the Jafura dunes —two dead pits now buried by the sand and a single well with brackish water at eight fathoms.^ A pair of Coursers vacated a clump of bushes, which we had marked down for a short mid¬ day halt. I wandered about in search of Mantids while the rest of the party sat over a welcome fire. Every Mttle patch of gravel seemed to have its colony of the strange creatures, and I wondered if they ever exchanged visits over the barriers of sand that separated one colony from another. Seldom does one find them actually on the sand, where they would be comparatively conspicuous objects, but it struck me as strange that they betrayed their presence so often by movement when they would have been quite invisible in their native gravel patches if they had kept still. As often as not my attention was attracted, even when I was on camel-back, by their pecuhar, rapid movements in the gravel, after wmc they lay stock-still, allowing me all the time I needed to get out a pill-box for their capture. That is a simple matter provided one rivets one’s eyes on the spot where they he otherwise one might as well search a haystack for a What these creatures eat I am unable to say but doubtless their main function in life is to provide meals for the larks and other birds, whose neat trails are to be seen everyw ere on the tell-tale sand.
The wind had increased somewhat when we resumed our march, spreading an unpleasant veil of sand over the face ot the earth, but, fortunately, such conditions proved to be temporary and the rest of the afternoon, though far from
^ Daraja OT Darjalan, .
2 The Badawin fathom would seem to average about five feet six mche , as I found by frequent testing.
3g the empty quarter
bright was by no means disagreeable. In the midst of desolation we passed a very old man resting on the sand by the side of a scare-crow or dummy^ such as sleeping shepherds use to keep their flocks from straying. But nowhere in the neighbourhood could we see any sign of the old mans flock, though in the distance we saw a ]^ze of dark shapes which may have been bushes or sheep. The ancient of days moved to be a man of some note in his now distant prime, Muhammad ibn Luhaim, renowned among the warhke Murra for his prowess in battle. Now in his dotage he was of no more account but to herd sheep for a pittance ; and some day, perhaps before very long, he would he down on the sands to die. Then the desert, which stiU kept him justiahve, would cover him with its mantle. We learned from ^m the whereabouts of certain Manasir elements, whose Shaikhs were to join our party if we could find them. They lay, he said, somewhere amid the sand ridges of A1 Khaiyala ; and thither in search of them we sped Farraj and Ibn Humaiyid with instructions to rejoin us on the morrow at our evening
A httle further on we entered the dune -tract of Mashura, which we traversed by a winding and almost continuous causeway of gravel with the high billows of typical N afud on either hand. Long wisps of sand streamed hke banners in the wind from the peaks and crests of the dunes , while the plenti fill bushes of the lower levels harboured a considerable colony of locusts, mostly rose-coloured but with an occasional yellow individual. It was certainly interesting to find such an apparently isolated colony, for the whole desert had yielded but few specimens, and those far between. So far as I could ascertain they did not appear to be breeding and ’Ah was of opinion that they would not do so until they had had time to grow fat on the spring vegetation which would be due a month or so hence. The Badawin have a whole mass of un¬ scientific lore on the subject of locusts, which are reputed to come into being out of the nostrils of fishes. They call them Tihami after the coastal plain of the Red Sea whither they first come from across the water and where, as also inland ^ Called Khaiyul.
NORTHERN JAFURA
39
wherever they may descend after their long flight, they breed to produce the dreaded hoppers which do so much harm to any young crops in the line of their ordered march. In turn the hoppers take flight as mature insects, creating havoc wherever they go and providing the Arab with a welcome addition to his diet when they have fattened on his crops and pastures. The survivors disappear no one knows how or whither, and the Arabs believe that they breed no more. There is perhaps more fancy than fact in some of this lore, which possibly serves, however, to record the bare observed facts of locust visitations to Arabia.
The passage of the Mashura sands presented no difficulty and we emerged on another gravel plain, steering towards a gap between two further groups of dunes known as Taiyib Ism and Qalalit. The outer line of Mashura seemed to run down southward to the limit of our vision, the individual dunes being also oriented with their horseshoe-shaped hollows facing southward. Afar off to the left was said to lie the watering of Khariqat al ’Ashaiyir, and I noticed in this area that the sand-trails lay both to north and south of the Httle bushes that dotted the plain. Whether this indicated a per¬ manent balance between the prevailing winds or, as seemed more probable, a transition from the earlier north wind to the south wind now blowing, I cannot say. We passed between the dune groups already mentioned on to an immense flat plain of gravel which reminded me strongly of the great Rakba plain along the eastern flank of the Hijaz mountains.
Zayid and ’Ali seemed a httle vague about the nomen¬ clature of these parts, and it was only by the irritating pro¬ cess of continual questioning and sifting their often incon¬ sistent and contradictory answers that I was able in the end to piece together the topography of the region. The sands of these outlying dunes appeared to form the boundary of the Jafura desert on this side, while the gravel plain represented a transition from it to the coastal region which could not now be far off though the horizon ahead of us was far from in¬ dicating either any dramatic change of scenery or the vicinity of the wells of Ba’aij, which had been suggested as a suitable spot for the evening’s camp. We were, however, no longer in
40
the empty quarter
any need of guiding, for the desert was scored with numerous meandering camel-paths which led us in a south-easterly direction, presumably towards the wells. For all his lack of topographical knowledge Zayid had led us on a true course over avast area of almost featureless desert, and I felt that he deserved at least some credit for such an achievement. Un¬ der his guidance I had explored some 70 miles of a previously uncharted wilderness, and it was not his fault that the re¬ sulting map should be so bare and naked. J afura is a limb of desolation, a dismal, unattractive wilderness, whose western fringe Major Cheesman had skirted on his way from Hufuf to Jabrin in 1924, while I had now struck diagonally across its northern arm to come out on its eastern frontier. Later I should cross its southern section in a south-westerly direction to Jabrin, and we should have a fair idea of its general character.
Suddenly the flat gravel plain began to sway and dip to an abrupt transformation of rocky depressions outlined by ridges and headlands. We had left Jafura behind us and stood on the brink of the Jiban. And beyond them out of sight lay the blue waters of the Persian Gulf.
CHAPTER III
THE ESTUAEIES OE JIBAN
The desert plain runs out flat and uncompromisingly to tlie fringe of a chasm, whose intricate outline of low cliffs has evidently been fashioned by the sea in ancient times. We paused a moment on the brink to survey the scene, a broad valley or bay trending eastward between rock-slopes which descended easily to the level of the depression in a series of low steps. It was as if the desert had thrust out two arms to embrace the hollow, while from the surface of each arm rose great wharts of rock, to a height of perhaps 200 feet or more. The mouth of the depression evidently debouches on the coast of the Bahrain Gulf, but the sea was hidden from us by the headlands at the further end, the most impressive of which was named to me as Ri’ al Hamda.^ It is said to mark the point at which the main Hasa-Qatar route, the Darb al Sa’i or postal road as they call it, traverses the vaUey to follow the sea-coast.
What is the name of this valley ? I asked of ^Ah. It has no name, he replied, it is one of the Jiban, but it has no name, God knows. That sort of answer had been aU very well in the featureless desert behind us, but I could not bring myself to beheve that a feature as striking as this great chff-bound bay could really be nameless. ’Ali might indeed be ignorant of it, but I expressed myself very strongly on the subject of Zayid’s remissness in not finding for me a competent guide among the numerous Badawin we had encountered in Jafura. It was difficult to be patient and long-suffering under such provocation, and there was an exchange of angry words, sharp and short and followed by the resumption of our march, now southward, along the fringe of the cMffs in suUen silence.
^ Or Mahdar Hamda.
42
THE EMPTY QUARTER
As we rode, a small and select deputation of my companions accosted me to make peace. Look you, they said, Ali is not to blame, he was only shy to pronounce the name of this place in your presence, out of respect for you. Its name we all know — a foul name, for they caU it Jaub al Hirr.^ Tis but the fashion of the Badawin, they give rude names to every¬ thing, for they have no shame. I found it difficult to be or pretend to be shocked, and I laughed aloud at their delicacy. It was certainly a pretty trait in an unexpected quarter.
By the time we had skirted the cliffs of the western ex¬ tremity of the vafiey not-to-be-named and struck out across a promontory of the gravel desert which separates it from the neighbouring depression of Jaub al Ba aij the painful inoident had been consigned to oblivion. Up to this time indeed the conversation of my companions had been astonishingly free of the broader forms of obscenity, perhaps out of deference to myself, but in due course such restraints would be thrown to the winds and there would be free speech among them on all things, pleasant and unpleasant. Where sex is concerned the speech of the Arabs is coarse and naked rather than indecent while, at any rate among the Badawin, the commonest theme of conversation is, so far as my experience goes, not sex but food. That is perhaps natural in a hungry land, where the sex- reflex is simple and without complications though voracious.
Having stopped on the gravel plain for the afternoon prayer, we came almost immediately to the edge of the cliff that skirts the northern side of the great estuary-like depres¬ sion of Jaub al Ba’aij. Here I called a halt for a leisurely examination of the scene, but we sent on the main body with the baggage to select a site for our camp and to pitch the tents and prepare our dinner. The chffs on which we stood, some 30 or 40 feet in height, descend abruptly to the valley- bottom in which, about half a mile apart, lie the two groups of wells known collectively as Ba’aij. The valley rises south¬ ward and by an easy gradient to low sandy downs extending to the further cliff, whose extremity to the north-east is marked by the headland of Khashm al Ba’aij. This feature lay south-east of our position, and between these two points
Hirr —Pudenda muUer is.
THE ESTUARIES OP JIBAN
43
the cliffs ran south-west to unite at no great distance in a narrow bay forming the landward head of the depression. Prom this head the estuary — that seems the most appro¬ priate term to use in connection with these Jiban depres- gions _ splays out delta-wise towards the sea in a north¬
easterly direction, the prominent headland of Ri’ al Hamda forming the seaward extremity of the northern cliff as it does of the southern fringe of Jaub al Hirr.^ The true channel of the estuary runs north-eastward along the northern cliff to the vast salt-flats that extend to the waters of the Gulf of Bahrain, while on the southern side of the valley a series of broad rock-steps, liberally covered with dunes and ridges of sand, descends towards the salt-flats from the Ba’aij head¬ land.' Salwa lay about NNE. of our point of observation though its palms and the sea were invisible to us in the after¬ noon haze. And here and there on the flanks of the channel strangely eroded stacks® of rock stood out as evidence of the progressive denudation and weathering of the cliffs, of which doubtless they once formed part. One of these fragments, known as Naslat al Tarad or ‘ the rock of the battle,’ pre¬ serves the memory of a famous tribal encounter of some 30 or 35 years ago when ’Ali Jahman was a child. It was fought between the Murra, who were in possession of the wells, and the ’Ajman, who entered the depression at, and launched their attack from, this rock. The battle was stubbornly waged throughout the day and in the end victory rested with the home tribe, the Murra, who had as many as 50 casualties to mourn, while the losses of the defeated ’Ajman were very much heavier. That was in the good old days when cavalry still counted in Arab warfare, but now the modern rifle has deleted the horse from such affrays, while the thirty years’ peace of Ibn Sa’ud has all but eliminated war from the nor¬ mal programme of the tribes. Gone are the days of horse- breeding among the warlike Murra, for now, as like as not, if any man have a mare worth -having she mevitably drift into the stables of Ibn Jiluwi, as fine a judge of horse and camel flesh as lives to-day in Arabia, and a tiger, they
1 The word Ja^lb (plur. Jiban) signifies a depression.
2 Such isolated rocks are called Nasla.
44
THE EMPTY QUARTER
say for virgins for all Ms three-score years. The governor of the Hasa is indeed become a legend in Arabia already m his Kfe-time— and many the tales told of him as once were told, truly or otherwise, of the greatest of the Caliphs of
^ Wth ili I descended on foot to the western group of wells, of which only one — Bir al Tawil or the deep well, as it is called— has survived the vicissitudes of time. The depth to water in the underlying sandstone is only two fathoms, and the pit is hned with a wattle frame to prevent the collapse of the soft alluvial soil through which it is dug. Strongly it reeked of the staling of camels, which filled the air with a noisome stench. In the close neighbourhood are othen wells, whose positions ’Ali pointed out to me, of this deep group , but they were all dead.
The second group of water-holes, where the camels awaited us, was only half a mile distant and differed from the first in being shallower, for which reason they bear the name of Bm al Qusaiyir or ‘ the shallow well.’ In the two pits of this group the water is, or was, only one fathom from the surface, but both were so completely buried in the sand that they would have been quite unrecognisable as water-holes but for the circle of camel-dung that invested them with its familiar halo.
As we rode hence towards our tents a Stone Curlew ^ was seen among the bushes in the sand and ’Ali went off in un¬ successful pursuit. The sun was very near its setting as we reached camp, and I reahsed with some surprise that through¬ out this first day of fasting, during which we had marched some 24 miles, I had experienced not the slightest incon¬ venience. Not for a moment had I felt even hungry or thirsty, but ’Ali confessed to a slight headache as the result of long abstinence from coffee and some of the others showed manifest signs of distress. The call to prayer was a signal for our gathering round the camp-fire, where a dish of dates was set ready for the breaking of the fast. Coffee was then served round and we lined up for the prayer about a quarter of an hour after sunset. An hour later our frugal dinner of
Karwan.
45
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
rice was served and meanwhile I had become aware of the tragedy which had befallen my watches. Fortunately we were within easy reach of Salwa, whose position had been astronomically determined by Major Cheesman in 1921, and in due course we would be visiting Jabrin, where I would again have the advantage of his work in 1924. Our plans contemplated proceeding from our present camp direct to Anbak, but it was clearly imperative now that I should visit Salwa to redeem my unfortunate lapse and my companions were not averse to an easy day on the morrow. It was agreed therefore that the main body should make a short march to Abu Arzila, the next ‘ estuary ’ southward, while I should go down with a small party to Salwa to shoot the sun. We coMd then work round to Abu Arzila by way of the rumoured ruins of Sikak, and the unfortunate accident proved indeed to be a blessing in disguise. Without it I should have missed the exploration of a very interesting area which was to provide me with an important clue for the solving of the problem of the Jiban estuaries.
By now after four days of riding I had r’eached a climax of stiffness and physical discomfort though in all other respects I felt exceedingly fit in spite of the fasting and the^ short hours of sleep allowed by my multifarious preoccupatioi^— the daily or nightly writing up of notes, the packing or label¬ ling of specimens collected, and the like. It was humihatmg and annoying to be such a cripple, unable to rise without assistance, and it was generaUy agreed that I should ha,ve a respite from A1 Bahraniya. In consequence of this decision i rode Sa’dan’s camel on the following day and, when we got into camp after a long outing and a round trip of some 26 miles, I found to my joy and rehef that every vestige of my crippling stiffness had disappeared— never to return, it haa thus taken me five days to acclimatise myself to camehritog. which henceforth became an unmixed pleasure. Perhaps with another mount than Bahraniya I should have aclueved this result more rapidly, for my new steed, smaller, hghter and more compact, never gave me a moment o^ sco o , though I was sore and stiff enough in aU conscience when
was helped on to her saddle that morning.
46 THE EMPTY QUARTER
The cliffs of the great estuary towered magnificently over the low mist in the young light of dawn as the camels were driven off to the weE for their first drink since leaving Dulaiqiya. It was but four days since then — and cool days to boot— and most of the animals spurned the potation offered them. Seven or eight days without water constitute no hardship for camels under such conditions, and they can manage as many as ten in full marching order provided that there be reasonable grazing available on their route. In our case the pastures had been rather poor, and here among the sands round our camp the Ghadha bushes were all miserably brown and dried up by the prevailing drought. The late summer rains had indeed paid a fleeting visit 1)0 this country south of the Hasa, but there had not been sufficient precipitation to make the desert blossom. And it was not till two days later that we were to see the first scanty signs of really fresh herbage in the uplands beyond Judairat, where we encountered the faint flush of green that precedes the spreading of spring’s welcome carpet over the parched desert.
At 8-30 a.m. I started off with my small party on a north¬ easterly bearing, following the contours of the ground to avoid the higher ridges of sand. Afar off the sea burst upon our view as we topped the first rise, from which we now descended easily from step to step of the high ground on the southern bank of the estuary. The surface was of a friable sandstone weathered in places to queer mushroom shapes and dolmen-like formations. The distant palms of Salwa came into view with the blue sea on one side and the conspicuous flat-topped hillock of Qarn Abu Wail beyond Sikak on the other. The scenery was both impressive and interesting after the dreary monotony of Jafura, and it was still a little puzzling for I had not yet been able to assimilate the true significance of the Jiban formation. Yet slowly enlighten¬ ment grew upon me and, as I looked upon the cliffs of the valley and the great expanse of salt-flats that stretched out before and below us, I could not resist the conclusion that the broken, sinuous line of the former encircled an ancient estuary, while the latter could not but be an old floor of the sea, from which the waters had receded to their present line
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
47
on either side of the Qatar promontory. That was surely once an island as Bahrain is to-day, for the salt plain (in parts actually lower than sea-level) runs right across its base from sea to sea. From the third shelf of rock we descended to a salt strip on a higher level than the main flats below and perhaps, therefore, betraying a part of the old estuary floor. From that we passed through a further barrier of rock down to the main salt-flat, an immense plain that sounded crisp and hollow under our camels’ feet. Here my aneroid showed the same reading as it recorded later on at the edge of the sea at Salwa five miles distant. The whole of this vast plain would seem therefore to be at sea-level more or less — either* a part of the original floor of the sea itself or a lagoon separated therefrom by some sand-barrier hke that of Elhisat al Salwa to which we soon came.
The flan ha of the estuary here faU back right and left into the far distance and there were only the sand tracts to inter¬ rupt the great flat. The sand was of a dazzling white and profusely covered with the green ShiTuitt and the darker Suwwcbd, which somehow seemed to create an impression of noisomeness. In the midst of the sands lay the depression of Khisat al Salwa containing numerous shallow waterholes of unhealthy aspect with slightly brackish but drinkable water, at a depth of two fathoms. Such wells can be easily scrabbled up out of the sand anywhere in the hoUow. I saw three of them lined with wattles to prevent the falHng in of the sand, but the rest were open pits, most of them half choked by their fallen debris. In spite of its name there did not seem to be a single dwarf-palm^ in this locality, which must not be confused with Salwa proper further on. Major Cheesman’s plan^ makes it clear that he did not visit this spot and the ruined castle he investigated was that of Salwa itself.
Beyond the sandhills we entered a firm, flat, grit-covered plain with scanty Shinan bushes and quickened our pace to a cheerful trot. ’tFe soon re-entered the ScibJchd or salt-flat, over whose firm, smooth surface a single camel path led us in single file towards the palms of Salwa. As we went they >■ Khia, Khisa. ^ In Unknown Arabia, p. 33.
48 THE EMPTY QUARTER
pointed out to me the track of a solitary Ford car which, after the pilgrimage of 1931, had made the stupendous jour¬ ney from Mecca to Abu Dhabi on the Pirate Coast of the Per¬ sian Gulf under the guidance of a man of the Manasir tribe. The car had struck across the peninsula to ’Uqair and thence followed the coast to its destination. It was certainly a great performance, which deserves to be rescued from oblivion, though I was unable to ascertain how long the journey had taken. By such feats of pioneering a network of practicable motor roads is being slowly but surely spread over the face of the Arabian desert, which until a decade ago had never known any means of transportation other than the camel.
Similar paths to that on which we rode were seen now to be converging from numerous points beyond the salt-flats towards the ' harbour ’ of Salwa, which is no more than a strip of tidal mud on the coast of the long tongue of sea that projects southward from the Gulf of Bahrain into the base of the Qatar peninsula. The harbour, in which rode a dozen or so of dhows at anchor, faces the derelict coastal palm-groves of Salwa across the channel perhaps a mile wide, more or less. Our course lay dead on the palms across the flat which, as it approaches the sea, turns to a glistening, salty whiteness. It is profusely strewn with little spiral shells^ so common in the Hasa and to be found by us in due course at numerous places, in the Empty Quarter and beyond. They crunched deliciously under the soft padding of our camels, which shied nervously as they came to the channel, now narrowed to about 50 yards and crossing our path to a considerable dis¬ tance beyond. At times the water at this ford is deep enough to necessitate a wide circuit to the southward but we found it barely knee-deep. Yet the camels had to be coaxed, forced or led into the water, and such is the perversity of their race that no sooner had they reached mid-stream than some made vigorous efforts to bathe while others, having refused to drink fresh water at Ba’aij, stretched forth their long necks to take a gulp of the salt liquid as they passed. It is not good for them and the Arabs showed no sympathy for such depravity.
^ For details regarding shells see Appendix.
r which, )ns jour- the Per- sir tribe. d thence y a great obhvion, :ney had acticable le face of 3r known
a now to salt-flats e than a ' sea that .e base of dozen or oa-groves :e or less, ich, as it mess. It tnnaon in lumerous crunched ich shied rowed to ’able dis- [ is deep d but we e coaxed, y of their ran some g refused beir long sd. It is pathy for
KWiill
of nesrL
tidal lii
action.
of the i sustena
springs off to h( attract! from Di hour es Thef
wsw..
of the e; modatic crumble seen at suggest trouble had alr< Nor did
49
THE ESTUARIES OP JIBAN
In ten minutes, having ridden past the first of the coastal palm-clumps, we drew rein at the second — a miserable grove of neglected stems separated from the sea by a belt of un¬ healthy-looking reeds and a line of dirty flotsam marking the tidal limit. Ali went off stalking a Stone Curlew with my gun while I made all possible haste to get the theodolite into action. The rest, having nothing to do but fast, lay down to sleep till I should be done. A large colony of locusts con¬ tinued undisturbed their voracious depredations on the fronds of the miserable palmlets, and we added some of them to my collection before resuming our march at noon.
The main oasis of Salwa — a considerable area of scattered and unprosperous groves— lies about a mile back from the coast. Its central feature is a ruined fort in the midst of one of the thicker plantations, while the palms depend for their sustenance on a number of brackish springs with water almost up to the ground-level. A large party of Manasir camels was being watered at the time of our arrival at one of these springs in the courtyard of the fort, and some of our men went off to hobnob with Rashid al ’Abd ibn Mani’, a handsome and attractive young shaikhling of the tribe who was on his way from Dauha to the Hasa. Meanwhile I spent a pleasant half- hour examining the ruins and the oasis.
The fort, a square enclosure of 73 paces oriented ENE. and WSW., consisted of a keep or dwelling-room in the SW. corner and an open courtyard, which occupied the remainder of the enclosure and was presumably intended for the accom¬ modation of the owner’s camels in times of danger. The crumbled walls were of the same fossiliferous rock as we had seen at Dhuwaiban, and the general lay-out of both places suggested that they belong to the same epoch. I did not trouble to collect pottery or other remains as Major Cheesman had already investigated the ruins very thoroughly in 1921. Nor did I visit another smaller and apparently similar ruin on or near the coast, beyond which lay the waters of the Gulf, resplendent with every shade of green and blue. The palms of Salwa are ownerless and unattended but produce an annual crop of dates to be gathered by any chance comer. What an opportunity, I thought, for some enterprising body of the
D , :
50
THE EMPTY QUARTER
ever-poor and ever-kungry Badawin to settle here in per¬ manence to enjoy and improre the advantages provided by Nature! Yet evidently there had been something in the nature of a permanent occupation here in centuries long gone by. And there must be some explanation of the present derehct aspect of the place. It is the fever, said Zayid, that prevents settlement in such places. EveryTvhere, indeed, as at and Anbak and even Jabrin, the Ikhwan have made such attempts but always the fever drives them back to the desert. The Arabs caimot face it and die off quickly, so the palms are left untended for God to fertihse and bring to fruition.
This strange fever of the spring-fed oases of the desert would be an interesting subject for expert study. The Arabs have not learned by experience and will not learn from preaching that modern science can both cure or mitigate the fever in individuals and eradicate it from its natural haunts. I saw no signs of mosquitoes either here or elsewhere, and even in the Hasa they do not seem to be the scourge they are at Mecca and Jidda. Curiously enough Madina is almost and Riyadh entirely free from the pest. Perhaps the fever of the eastern oases is due to some other source than the mosquito, and perhaps some day the problem wiU be tackled to add appreciably to the cultivable area of Arabia.
We resumed our tour of inspection by setting off at a swinging trot towards the conspicuous landmark of Qarn Abu Wail, a flat-topped hillock to the south-east, detached from the long escarpment of Qalail, which forms the westward face of the Qatar plateau. We rode over the same vast salt- flat, whose perfect surface was Httered with tiny spiral shells and dotted with clumps of Suwwad and Qataf, which in a rougher patch of ground ftuther on gave way to Shinan and Thullaith. We crossed the camel-paths leading to the Sikak watering and kept straight on across a broad and stormy strip of astonishingly white sand- waves with dark contrasting vegetation imtil we came to the foot of the hillock, just five miles distant from the Salwa ruins.
Leaving ’Ah and Ibn Ma’addi to guard the camels at its base — and incidentally to sleep — ^Zayid and I began the
ascent to i Abu Wail, told me as He was w( summit ai had seen : found, em to tether 1 might be ^ coast or p the pirate easy, and little foot: to leave precipices interest, have slip; haps a 1 unproduc haversacl has prov' finding a search fo it may b( by some strike lig specimei if they si gating tl animal ^ sleeping discover Zayid hi So we way. 0 found n about a of a thi<
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
51
ascent to the summit about 200 feet above the plain-level. Abu Wail, who had given bis name to the biU, was, be bad told me as we rode, one of the great ones of ancient Arabia. He was wont to stable his mare on this (almost inaccessible) summit and there, to this day presumably— for be himself had seen it with his own eyes some years since— is to be found, embedded in the rock, the iron staple to which he used to tether her. From this description I imagined that the iron might be a ship’s anchor^ picked up from some wreck on the coast or perhaps some other rehc from a vessel captured by the pirates of old. The ascent certainly proved none too easy, and near the summit the steep, eroded crags offered but little foothold for our clambering or came away in our hands to leave us precariously poised on the edge of immature precipices. But the lower slopes of the hill were full of interest. A few fossils I had picked up at the base proved to have shpped down from a thick fossihferous stratum ^per¬ haps a 100 feet or so— underlying a 50 foot thickness of unproductive sandstone at the top. I soon had a couple of haversacks fuU of these relics of an ancient oyster-bed, which has proved to be of Miocene age® ; and I was gratified at finding also a single weU-fashioned flint implemen . y search for other indications of ancient man was in vam and it may be that the flint had been dropped here accidentally by some more recent visitor, for the modern Badawm stfl strike fights with flints and would certainly pick up a goo specimen of their ancestors’ handiwork to use for the purpose if they should come across one. Meanwhile gatiii the lair of a hyena, whose tracks proclaimed that the animal was still within as there was no sign of its exit, iff sleeping pair below were summoned to his assistance only discover that the beast had left his home by a back-door which Zayid had not discovered.
So we aU moved on to the summit, collecting ^ssils on the way. On the flat top, some 180 paces long and 50 broad, we found nothing but a cairn of stones and a hole in e r about a foot deep and wide enough to
of a thick mast. It was here, explained Zayid, that he ha ^ The word ho used was Dhahal. ^ Appendix.
52 THE EMPTY QUARTER
seen tlie now non-existent iron and I was left to conjecture what it might have been and what had become of it. The flint, and fossils — to say nothing of the view from the top — were however sufficient compensation for all the trouble we had taken to get here. It was indeed a magnificent, far- flung, desolate scene that we looked upon from that chilly wind-swept summit. Leaving my companions at the empty socket of the missing iron I walked to the further end of the hill overlooking the oasis of Sikak to take a round of bearings when, suddenly, silently and without warning, an armed man appeared before me a few yards off. Peace be upon you ! I jerked out rather taken aback. And upon you be peace ! he replied. I saw you not, I explained somewhat unneeessarily and trying to spirit away the prismatic compass which he had already doubtless observed, how did you come up that way ? — it was indeed a sheer precipice behind him and whence are you ? Marri or Mansuri ? I hazarded, knowing that any nomads in the neighbourhood would probably be from one of those tribes. His reply astonished me. I am of the Ihhwan. I remembered that there was said to be a colony of the fanatics at Sikak and it lay indeed on the plain below, visible from where we stood though I had not yet noticed it. My imagination rapidly pictured the rest of the village warriors posted round the hill in an unescapable cordon. Possibly our camels were already in their hands. Yet the Tuau seemed friendly enough. What are you doing here ? he continued, hunting perchance ? And who are those with you ? Be there of the Murra among them 1 We are from the Imam, I replied using the Ikhwan title of the Wahhabi King, and ’Ah Jahman is with us. That seemed to satisfy him and we moved slowly towards my companions, with whom I left the man to resume my survey of the scene. He had, I was afterwards told, evinced some curiosity about myself, obviously an unusual type of visitor to these parts, and they had satisfied him with the explanation that I was an engineer charged with some task of inspection by the King himself and studying the water problems of the district. Many weeks later in rather similar circumstances in the vast lava country of the Buq^um I was passed off as a doctor. In Arabia the
53
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
white man is the reputed repository of aU the sciences— and years ago I had passed for an artillery expert !
Our descent by another route proved to be no easier than the ascent but in due course, loaded with fossils, we reached the bottom and mounted our beasts to visit Sikak, of whose widely scattered palms in a setting of low rolling white sand¬ hills I had had an excellent view from the summit. In less than half an hour we reached and halted at the first of the many springs of the oasis, a fair-sized pool at ground-level and more than half filled with tall flowering reeds. ^ A few wretched palms grew at its side and aU around we could see similar groups of reeds and palms. A little way off on rather higher ground of less marshy character lay the little hamleU of perhaps a score of mud-huts and a hundred souls at most, founded in the early days of the IJchwan revival by Hamad ibn Barjis ibn Hanzab, a sectional Shaikh of the ’Adhba clan of Murra. Unhke many rather similar settlements of this tribe the place was still actively inhabited, though its popu¬ lation spends a good deal of its time out in the desert pastures. The oasis was rather a contemptible specimen of unaided Nature’s efforts — for of course the owners leave the palms to fertilise themselves — to contribute to the food-stocks of man, who enjoys the ripened fruits of the groves without toil and has not yet reahsed that better results could be obtained if only he would do a little of the work he leaves so contentedly to the Almighty.
Besides the reeds and pahns the oasis, which lies about 25 feet below sea-level, contains a good deal of tamarisk, but there was httle of interest to detain us longer and we resumed our journey after disposing of the afternoon prayers. The rumoured ancient ruins had proved a myth unl^ag they Me buried under the dunes which appear to be encroaching on the oasis firom aH sides. Einding the saMne soil here somewhat sMppery owing to the underlying moisture, we struck across the sands and skirted a low rocky ridge which lay on the hither side of the great salt-flat. Recrossing the tracks of the motor car already mentioned we struck out at a trot across the vast salt field, steering SSW. towards the
^ Ghaf. ® These Ihhwan settlements are generally called Hijra,
54
THE EMPTY QUARTER
mouth of the Abu Arzila estuary. Afar off to the south¬ east appeared the isolated ridges of Mushaikhila and a long series of tent-like cones between them and the mainland. We still had far to go, and the sun was rapidly sinking before us when we reached the sand-ridges which have practically obliterated the bed of this estuary. We had to resume an ordinary walking pace over the gentle switchback, and dark¬ ness found us still groping forward without any very clear idea of the position of our camp and with nothing in our saddle-bags to break our day’s fast withal. At length we sighted our camp-fire afar off and it was 7 p.m. when we reached the tents to find dinner awaiting us. We had been travelling on and off for eleven hours, but I felt no weariness and spent part of the night initiating Sa’dan into the mys¬ teries of taxidermy on the body of the Stone Curlew we had brought from Salwa.
With our travelling routine now well developed I was beginning to find the time at my disposal too short for the multifarious interests with which, at least in theory, I had saddled myself at starting. I had to do everything myself and found in consequence that everything was falling sadly into arrears. Even my journal was not up to date and I was aware from previous experience that arrears of work accumu¬ lated beyond a certain point can never be overtaken. This applied rather pungently to the collection of birds and mammals which had either to be skinned when fresh or thrown away before they became too unpleasant. So far we had met with Mttle to shoot except a few birds, but most of these had had to be thrown away and I had regretfully arrived at the conclusion that, to make time for other things, I must jettison the activities connected with the collection of anything that required skinning. Before doing so, however, I decided, as a forlorn hope, to teach Sa’dan the very little I knew about the art of skinning. So we struggled that night with the Curlew, the blind leading the blind, and after a day or two of similar joint efforts it was he who took on the whole responsibility for preparing the specimens collected during our wanderings. In the end I brought home some seventy or eighty birds and mammals from the Rub‘ al Khah, and it
55
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
may fairly be claimed that the collection has been of some use — not perhaps for exhibition but to facihtate the identifica¬ tion^ of the desert fauna. The insects, fossils, rocks, and other things I dealt with myself, but it was a relief to know that the collection of birds and beasts could go on.
It was with something of a shock that I heard later in the evening that the discarded carcase of the Curlew had been roasted in the ashes of the camp-fire and eaten by my com¬ panions. I could only formulate a silent and pious hope that any arsenical soap that had attached itself to the meat during the skinning operation might not prove injurious to human beings, but it was understood from now onwards that aU meat, however obtained, should go to the cook-house. I could not bring myself to partake of the meals resulting from this process, though many weeks later hunger triumphed over such squeamishness and I shared, like and hke with my com¬ panions, in anything that was going.
The estuary of Jaub Abu Arzila differed from the Hirr and Ba’aij depressions in being almost completely filled up with a moraine of sand-dunes fairly well covered with parched Ghadha and other vegetation. The fact that it was a valley or depression at all was only apparent from the low rocky ridges on either side, terminating at their eastern extremities in the headlands of Khashm Abu Arzila and Elhashm Anbak to north and south respectively. Only at the mouth of the estuary between the two headlands, lying several miles apart, did its true character appear from the narrowing tongue of sahne plain that ran up westward for some dis¬ tance into the sands which otherwise filled the valley. Our camp amidst the latter lay about 200 feet above the salt-flats and was therefore approximately at the same level as the weUs of Ba’aij.
The chmatic conditions had now undergone a complete change. The bitter cold and frosts of the early days seemed to have gone for good and I found it unnecessary to wear the " snow-boots ’ any longer, except at night and in the early mornings when the sand was stiU cold underfoot. It was good to be aHve these days with all the old stiffness gone and
^ See Appendix.
56
THE EMPTY QUAETEE
a growing conscionsnoss of pliysical fitnoss. Tlic air of tlio desert was marvelous, pleasantly warm by day with light southern breezes bringing up thin wisps of cloud to temper the sun’s rays, and mild by night with thick mists and heavy dews at dawn. So thick indeed was the mist next morning on the Abu Arzila downs that our Ramdhan routine suffered a serious set-back. We had been summoned as usual to our pre-dawn supper and had actually begun to sup when a strange light, filtering through the fog, warned us that prayer time had stolen upon us unawares, after which there might be neither eating nor drinking. Suwid abruptly interrupted the meal with the call to prayer. The day’s fast had begun and with it came the first signs of backsliding among my com¬ panions, who had not yet had their coffee and shrank from the long ordeal without that stimulus. After all, said some, we have already offended unwittingly and our fast is vitiated, so we may be travellers^ to-day. As well, they meant, be hanged for a sheep as a lamb ! Not so, replied the more devout, let them ^ travel ’ who will for God is merciful, but for those who willed to fast — the definition in fact embraced the whole party — ^it is not too late. Man’s actions are judged by his intentions. Let us pray and eschew the coffee. Put therefore your trust in God. But the devout were in a minority of five — ’Ali Jahman, Abu Ja^sha, Ibn Ma’addi, Suwid and myself — against the more numerous backsliders, who gathered round the coffee-fire and loudly denounced the would-be monopolists of piety. At their suggestion — for I had retired to my tent — Sa’dan brought along my usual pot of tea. I told him to take it to the devil and put a curb on his tongue, for he knew his scripture well enough to take advantage of its loopholes when it suited his convenience and had been airing his learning before his admiring fellow- " travellers.’ What fools are they, he said to me of some of our companions many days later when we had set out on a long march with no prospect of finding any game in the desert, to ' travel ’ to-day when in any case they will go fasting. It is better to ' travel ’ when we get a whole day to
1 Musafirin used in the technical sense of persons availing themselves of the dispensation from fasting while on a journey.
57
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
rest in camp and there is meat to be bad. Fortunately the heavy artillery was on our side, including the chaplain, and of the five only ’Ali failed to keep the ivhole thirty days of the fast without a break, while Suwid went on to do the extra six days of the voluntary fasting after the feast-day that ended Ramdhan. ^ The day of the fog ’ thus became a land¬ mark in our wanderings.
On coming to camp from our expedition to Salwa I found that our party had been reinforced by the arrival of Salih ibn Aziz, a sectional Shaikh of the A1 bu Mandhar, one of three main groups of the Manasir tribe. It was the camels of this group that we had seen watering at Salwa, having come up viw Dauha from their summer- quarters and palm-groves in the Dhafra district over against Oman. Their chief oasis settlement has hitherto been shown on our maps as Liwa on the strength of the pronunciation of the Manasir themselves, who have a strongly developed tendency to change J into Y and to labialise the DH and other letters of the Arabic alphabet. The correct name of the place, as they aU agreed when we discussed the matter, is A1 Jiwa.^
Sahh’s brother, who had also come along to see him off on his long journey, departed to the tents of his own folk in the morning when, having started off our baggage-train on the direct route to Anbak, we set out to visit the Abu Arzila wells, two water-pits of a fathom depth in a circular sandy depression in the midst of the downs. Here we found about 100 camels of another Manasir group, the A1 bu Rahma^ whose chief Shaikh is Said ibn Suwit, watering under the charge of a few herdsmen. Just before reaching the wells, about two miles from camp, we were joined by two men, who turned out to be the young shaikhling whom we had met the previous day at Salwa with a servant in attendance. After leaving that locality they had enjoyed good sport with their hawks, and the young man had had the charming civihty to come over, seeking us out in the desert, with his bag of three
^ ^ Or A1 Jua, the interior ; c/. A1 Batina (inner) and A.1 Dhahira (outer), districts E. and W. respectively of the main Oman range ; of, also Kharija and Dakhila, the ‘ outer ’ and ‘ inner ’ oases of the Libyan desert.
2 The third ^oup, which we did not encounter at all, is Abal Sha’r, whose leader is Ghanim ibn Juraib.
58
THE EMPTY QUARTER
bustards as a gift. Very splendid too he looked in a robe of deep red which set off so well the swarthy countenance and aquihne kose inherited from a father, whose birth of a slave girl had sent him through life with the nickname of A1 ’Abd ‘ the slave.’ Young Rashid was perhaps about seventeen, though he bore himself hke a grown man, speaking mth the easy assurance that comes of the best desert breeding. It would be long perhaps before he succeeded to the leadership of his group, for his father still hved in hopes of stepping some day into the shoes of the grandfather, Rashid ibn Mani’, by common repute the most considerable individual of all the Manasir . I insisted on young Rashid riding with us to Anbak, where he spent the night in our camp, and it was interesting to see the deference paid to him by Sahh and Humaid, both considerably his seniors in years but rendering the tribute of men to the quahty of birth, which ranks so high in the Semitic mind. I wished that Rashid might have been of our party, but he declined my invitation with a grave smile and took his leave of us, delighted with the few pieces of silver with which I sought to make some return for his courtesy.
From the weUs we struck south-east across the valley towards the high ground of its southern bank which went up before us in a series of broad shelves to a narrow pebble- strewn plateau separating the Abu Arzila depression from the striking estuary of Anbak. On the way we saw coming towards us from the left two men, one walking and the other riding. The latter proved to be Farraj who, leaving his com¬ panion to fend for himself, trotted up to us to report the successful accomphshment of the mission entrusted to him by Zayid the previous day. He had found the man he sought, who now came toiling through the shrub-covered sand — a ragged nomad, it seemed, though of fine athletic stature. It was Humaid ibn Amhaj , a minor shaikh of the A1 bu Rahma, whose arrival completed the party which was to accompany me on my wanderings. Two teeth protruded horizontally and rather aggressively from the front of his mouth as the result of an old encounter with an enemy bullet. Otherwise his face was attractive enough, long, hoUow-cheeked and intellectual. He had the reputation of being something of a
59
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN
poet though I was to find his productions somewhat disappoint¬ ing ; and he proved to be the strong, silent man of the party. He and Hasan Khurr al Dhib were perhaps the least voluble but most dependable of them all, suffering my unreasonable¬ ness in silence and seeking ever to keep the peace at times of dissension. Salih was a striking contrast to his kinsman and will figure more prominently in my story. After the formal greetings Zayid courteously relinquished his mount to Humaid, whose camel had been sent to Anbak with the bag¬ gage, and himself rode pillion behind Sahh. The newcomer rode on his knees in the Oman fashion, supporting his but¬ tocks on the upturned soles of his feet — a strange seat on the fiat saddle but apparently comfortable enough and depen¬ dent entirely on balance. But such folk are born on camel- back and can ride gracefully enough — even their women do as much — on the bare rump of a saddleless, trotting drome¬ dary. At times they change to a side-saddle position, danghng one leg with the other tucked under them on the saddle. And sometimes — the favourite attitude of Zayid and ’Ali — they ride astride, sitting far back behind the hump. ’Ali claimed to be the owner of two herds of some 80 animals apiece, which at an average value of 200 dollars would make him worth about L1500 of our money, a considerable capital judged by the standards of Arabia. The three milch camels with us had been commandeered from his stock — at least so he said. If I had great wealth, he confided to me, I would wive often, but I have only the one wife now, and she but my second. My first bore me a son, now a youth of seventeen, and when I divorced her my brother took her to wife. 'Ali was not himself a Shaikh but of the kinship of one of the chiefs of the Ghafran, Salih ibn ’Ah Abu Laila of the Zayid section.
A large herd of the Ghafran camels came breasting up the slope from the Anbak watering as we went down thither in the opposite direction. With them strode a woman, red- smocked, bright-eyed but veiled with the quaint mask of the nomad females. She stared intently at me and seemed not to resent my equal interest in herself. ’AM and Ibn Humaiyid daUied in the rear to glean the gossip of their kinsfolk newly
60 THE EMPTY QUARTER
come up out of the great sands, but the rest of iis passed on till we came to the cliff-girt edge of the valley. Meanwhile Earraj had stalked and missed a pair of eaglesi, .^yhich had
settled on an eminence not far off.
The estuary was outhned on three sides by chffs in various sta<^es of picturesque erosion and in some parts completely detached to form isolated knolls or ridges in mid-valley. One of the latter, at some distance to the south-east, is known as Maqarr al Suqur^-the hawk’s nest-being a well-lmown breeding-place of the Saqr falcon, whose Hedgings the Rada- ■win seek out on the almost inaccessible ledges of its cliffs to seU to Ibn Jilnwi and other lovers of this form of sport Nearer at hand at the bottom of the cliff on which we “stood was a large group of low and fantastically weathered rocks which looked like the ruinous remnants of some stricken Sodom or Gomorrah— the origin, possibly, of the vague Badawin story of the otherwise non-existent ancient ruins at Anbak. Out in the bed of the estuary— where patches of white saline soil alternated with low hummocks and ridges of sand— lay the insignificant oasis of Anbak with its small, abandoned Ikhwan village close by to the south-west. And finally far to the east shone the floor of the great white salt- flat, on which debouch both this estuary of Anbak and that of Judairat, separated from each other by a wide band of biUowing sand though originaUy no doubt forming a single bay within the same encirchng line of chffs. Afar off to the south the opposite bank of the double estuary ends in the httle black knoll of Al ’Abd, which marks the hither side of a further estuary known as Kihaur al ’Abd.
I had now seen enough of these estuaries to estabhsh in my mind the conclusion that the sinuous hne of their containing wahs— from the nothernmost depression of Jaub al ’Uwaidh to the great Jaub par excellence of the south which Mr. Bertram Thomas entered after leaving the well of Bunaiyan
1 'Aqah.
® Major Cheesman. noted near Salwa a headland named Khashro. Skhul, of which my companions professed complete ignorance. It is possible that his guides, having heard of this famous spot near Anbak, applied the name {Skhul is obviously nothing but a corruption of Suqur) at random to some feature of the coast of the bay at Salwa.
61
THE ESTUARIES OF HBAH
at the northern hmit of the true sands of A1 Rimal— repre¬ sents the chff -outline of an ancient sea. Fossihferous deposits of Mocenei age are exposed in the lower strata of the Anbak and Judairat cliffs, and presumably elsewhere, under a con¬ siderable thickness of non-fossiliferous sandstone which appears to extend far back into the eastern desert, though its age and geological character cannot perhaps be deter¬ mined finally in the present state of our knowledge. The immense salt-flat extending from north of Salwa down to the furthest extremity of Sabkha Matti doubtless represents the floor of the open sea in the days when it penetrated far inland up these estuaries. And I shall have occasion to suggest in a later chapter that the same sea extended in an enormous bay down to the Khiran tract over against Shanna where it washed the flanks of the Eocene mountains of the south and east. In those days the distant oasis of Jabrin also was presumably the upper part of an estuary whose configuration will in due course be discussed. Nothing surely can be of greater interest than an attempt to throw back the veil which hundreds or tens of thousands of years have drawn over the earth as it was when our earliest ances¬ tors knew it or as it was even before the crowning glory of Creation. It is perhaps a bold task for a layman to em¬ bark on, but it is well enough if he bring with him to lay at the feet of the professors the material needful for the testing of his fancy’s flights.
In this case and at this stage of my journey such material lay, as it were, at my own feet ; for as we descended the stepped slope down to Anbak we marched upon a surface littered with fossil oysters, such as we had already found in the cliffs of Qarn Abu Wail. My companions chafed at my desire to halt, which would delay their coffee-bibbing. But halt I must, and I begged them to leave me to my work and go forward to pitch the camp. It was decided therefore that those who were fasting and were thus debarred from coffee in any case should remain behind with me, while the rest went on for their refreshment. For four hours under the afternoon sun we laboured, collecting and sorting the fossils about us,
^ See Appendix.
g2 the empty quarter
studying the Umestone strata from which they emanate J mapping and planning and the like. Ah and Ibn Ma addi ioined in the game with a good will, and we started a hare to see it streak up the steep hiUside to safety. At length we too descended into the vaUey and marched towards our camp m the oasis. Of what use are those shells ? asked Ah who had been quick to recognise their marine origin, and what wih you do with them 1 Noah’s flood provided an easily mtelhgible explanation of the presence of sea-shells so far inland. Yes, by God ! he exclaimed, that is true, for aU the ear* was covered by the waters and these things remained behind when they receded. By God ! it is true indeed. The shells are of no use, I went on, but it is knowledge I seek which is better than wealth. I wiU take them to my country, where they will put them in treasure-houses^ for people to see and study. You see, I too am a tracker like you. When you ride you read the sands and know what men and women passed upon them a month ago or more or less. But when I see shells hke these I understand what was happening a thousand years ago or more— it was idle of course to talk of milhons— back to the world’s creation. You see at once the tracks of animals and know that a fox or hyena has passed yesterday or before, but I see the tiniest insects as I ride over aravel or sand, which you cannot distinguish even when I point them out. Your eye is trained in one way, mine in another ; and you are not interested in the things that interest me. On several occasions already I had indeed had an amused and astonished ring of spectators, as I reined back suddenly at sight of a little Mantid in the gravel. With eyes glued on the motionless creature I had couched my camef and dismounted to stalk the quarry while they stood by open-mouthed with amazement at my apparent insanity, seeing nothing themselves until I showed them the minute captive in its glass-bottomed pillbox prison. But gradually they too learned to use their eyes, bringing me beetles and lizards and other things.
So we came to camp at Anbak late in the afternoon and they all rejoiced to hear of successful hunting in the sun while ^ Mithaf, the ordinary word for Museum.
^nated, [a’addi bare to we too amp in ho had vill you Eligible .. Yes, •th was behind e shells ^hich is , where see and ^ou ride m have I when I ening a ) talk of )nce the 3 passed ide over when I mine in igs that leed had I reined h With jhed my ile they apparent }hem the m. But iging me
loon and sun while
SPRING AT ANBAK WITH REEDS AND PALMS.
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAN 63
they had had coffee and devoured one of Rashid’s bustards, i half-dozen palm-groves of the oasis draw their nourish-
I from as many springs welling up into reedy pools flush
with the ground-level, in addition to which there were one or two shallow wells surmounted by the usual tackle for lifting the water. The reeds grew thick and luxuriant to a height of 12 or 15 feet, and their graceful flowering heads against a dark background of palms made a magnificent show where the camels coming to water had not cropped them down to the semblance of ravaged millet-stalks. Tamarisks also struggled with the reeds and palms for existence, and a pair of sparrow-hawks^ seemed to be having good hunting among the numerous warblers and other small creatures until one of them was itself stalked by Salih and shot at such close range with my gun that its head was almost completely blown off.
I took advantage of the plentiful— and exceUent— water to have my first good wash of the journey by the largest of the pools, where the camels had been watered and our skins filled and laid out in rows in readiness for the morrow’s march. The water was quite tepid at sunset but earfier in the day my companions had found it dehciously cool. By the time I had finished, dinner was served and very good it was with the meat of a bustard to vary the monotonous rice meals of the past week. I had noticed by the pools a fair number of sheep belonging to the folk of Ibn Nuqaidan, whose tents were scattered about on the sands round the oasis, and I had suggested that it might be a good thing to purchase a few of the animals so as to have meat for a couple of days to infuse a httle vigour into us. Zayid, however, declared that the sheep were in poor condition and not worth buying at any price, but some of the others hinted strongly that there was a nice yoimg camel to be had of the Arabs. I rephed that such a plethora of meat would only damp their ardour for the chase, whose results — two hares and two curlews — ^had scarcely vindicated their early boasting. Ah ! wait till we come to the Sands, they said, and you will surely see hares as plentiful as locusts, and we shall eat of the meat of the Oryx to our heart’s content. W e had seen tracks of foxes and hares,
^ ShabbuL
64 THE EMPTY QUARTER
wolves and hyenas, bustards and other things, but all to no purpose.
It had certainly been something of a disappointment to me that we had found neither ruins nor traces of early man at Anbak,! always though rather vaguely spoken of as a locahty of some ancient importance. The fossils had however been some compensation for this failure and we found the little spiral shells again in plenty in and about the plantation. Otherwise the place was of little interest except for the fact that it lay a few feet below sea-level. Such a site would scarcely have remained unoccupied in ancient times, but there was in fact no surviving trace of occupation earlier than the founding of the little Ikhwan hamlet by one Salim ibn Nuqaidan a dozen or more years ago. Its now derehct mud- hovels lay grouped round a rather larger building of the same type with a spacious open court, which had served as the local mosque,
Next day at dawn there was a light dew upon the ground
and clouds in the sky, while a thick white fog lay low upon the valley, rolling slowly down towards the sea. The cliffs and headlands showed up above it, seemingly suspended in mid-air. The atmosphere was as mild as we could wish and the baggage-train was got off to a good start. Just as I was getting ready to mount myself, I was astonished at being accosted by a deputation of two Marri ladies from the neigh¬ bouring tents the wife and a younger relative of a sectional Shaikh named Ibn Afair — with a bevy of very lugubrious chil^en clinging timidly about their traihng skirts. Oh Shaikh ’Abdullah ! began the older lady with the bright¬ eyed girl in active support and the tearful children as chorus, they have taken away our bitch and we have nought out her to bring us meat from the desert, for our men are away, as you know, and only we women are left behind with these children. AU along we had desired to secure a Saluqi hound if we could to hunt for the pot — and the Museum--and we had on one or two occasions seen animflls wMch had been rejected as unsuitable. The previous evening mdeed a dog had been offered to us and refused with thanks,
1 Incidentally our maps have hitherto wrongly shown the name as Mabaq.
THE ESTUARIES OE JIBAH 65
wMIe a very light-coloured bitch, nice looking but very thin and cold, had been discovered and coveted. At first I thLght that the complaint of the ladies was merely an indiilct method of bringing to my attention the fact that they had not yet received the gift that custom demanded in such circumstances ; and Zayid confirmed that conjecture as well as the la^es statement that the bitch had go4 on with our baggage-train. I returned therefore to the women rapidly calculating the number of doUars which might constitute a smtab e counter-present, but they remained steadfast in their protests that the bitch had been taken without their conTenI and that they wanted her back— not her price.i The truth
tThivfh ^ consented
to high-handed action in such a matter, had simply con¬ fronted me mth a. fait accompli. I insisted however that the ammal should be returned at once to her owners and refused to mount until she had been brought back. And as I sat there the women overwhelmed me with their voluble grati- ude, while the children began to whimper with pleasure
bless you indeed !
Oh Shaikh AbduHah, cried the old lady, for in any case vou are welcome to the hound and I had said nought, but these c Idren, God save them! they were broken-hearted to see her go and we could not remain silent before their weeping. Mav God therefore prolong your hfe and improve your lot I So the matter was settled to my satisfaction and theirs. The inci¬ dent had been both charming and instructive, and I had dehghted in their language, which was as pure and perfect Arabic as one could wish to hear. I rode away contented and never more had any doubt that Arabic is the mother tongue of the Murra. Zayid growled at the foUy of such squeamish¬ ness, but ’Ah privately applauded my championship of a just cause. A firm hand is doubtless needed to curb the unruly Badawin, but actual tyranny is unnecessary.
We marched south-west up the valley, over alternating s^d and sun-cracked sahne clay, until we came to the Ilawks Hest,’ by the side of which I discovered another
nch deposit of fossils in a detached rock called Mulaiha. The
^The Arabs do not traffic in dogs, whose price is unlawful money.
66
THE EMPTY QUARTER
valley became more sand-ridden as we advanced towards and followed tbe cliffs, where they bend round to form a great promontory of eroded rocks at the junction of Jaub Anbak with the estuary of Jaub Judairat. Here again we halted to collect fossils from a fairly thick stratum of dazzhng white limestone sandwiched between an underlying band of reddish-brown clay and an upper deposit of the fossil-less pink sandstone which forms the desert floor east of the line of these estuaries. A pair of ravens were in occupation of these crags as we approached but did not remain to tempt Providence ; and Farraj, who went off to stalk them, never got within effective rifle-range.
We now turned north-west towards the head c5f the Judairat estuary, dotted with isolated and much-weathered stacks of rock along the chff on our right hand, between which and the opposite ridge the mile-wide valley runs down east¬ ward to the great salt-flat. Our objective was the two wells of Judairat, of whose position ’AH retained a vague memory from a single visit ten or fifteen years before. A shght film of green covered parts of the valley as the result of the late summer^ rains, which had been far from bountiful, while the autumn rains had failed altogether. A hare was shot here to celebrate the first showing of spring, and we wandered along wondering where the wells might be, while far off ascending the western ridge we saw our baggage animals creeping slowly towards the plateau. We would soon be passing out of the Jiban estuaries back into the desert and Jafura.
Look you, said ’Ah suddenly, I am lost. I thought the wells were here by these rocks, but I see them not. Perhaps we should have sought them in that patch of bushes we passed just now ; would you now that we go back to seek them ? Almost as he pronounced the words he turned abruptly to the right and pointed triumphantly to a shallow saucer in the sands. I thought suspiciously that he was im¬ posing on me. It was difficult to believe that the dip in the ground had ever been a weU. Yet there was camel-dung about the circumference, though the mouth of the pit was
^ Called Sfiri, perhaps Asfari or Safari. The autumn rains are called Wasmij whence Mausim, our monsoon.
THE ESTUARIES OF JIBAH 67
entirely concealed by the overlying sand. Yes, he continued there it is, sure enough, but buried and the second well should be yonder beyond that rock. And there in fact we found the miserable hole in the sand with water in it at a depth of only five feet. It s briny, said ’Ali, like the sea. Men cannot Jink of it,_ but the camels endure it. A string of camels of the Badamn was at that moment slowly passing along the sky-hne of the ndge at the head of the vaUey a mile away It was a Murra party proceeding to new pastures, almost our iaiSt contact with, humanity.
From the weUs we turned south-west again to cross the valley and, as we chmbed up the further ridge, we enjoyed a splendid view of the snowy at the end of the estuary.
It IS even hke that, said Sahh, to the end of Sabkha Matti and that IS three days’ journey from end to end on the road to our country. In it is neither bush for fuel nor even stones for the necessary cleansing. These we must cany with us when we travel that way and, if you err from the track, there are boss that may swaUow up camel and rider and leave no trace of them, even as happened to one caUed Matti who disappeared in that tract. We call it, therefore, by his name. Hear it also are rmns of the ancients in the district of Majann which some day I will show you, if God wills.
A great shelving beach of pebbles sloped upwards before us from the crest of the ridge to a vast gravel plateau of the desert similar to that which hes between the Mashura dunes and the northern Jiban. In aU that monotonous waste known vaguely as Hidbat al Hafair, two low ridges stood out in contrast with the surrounding flatness, while to our left appeared some sHght indication of a cliff-edge encircling the mvisible depression of Khaur al ’Abd.i Rare bushes of Markk and a few tufts of Shinan emphasised the appalling nakedness of an iU-favoured landscape. We marched on doggedly until 4 p.m., when we pitched camp for the night in a poor belt of 8Unan bushes, where the gravel plain was hghtly strewn with sand. Our camels were turned out to graze and a pair of ravens circled about them, perching now and then on their backs in search of ticks. I tried to stalk
1 There is a well of briny water in the depression.
68
THE EMPTY QUARTER
one of them with ’Ali piloting me by a devious route, but the birds of the desert are mistrustful of human beings and I had to be content in the end with a distant, unsuccessful shot, after which we saw the visitors no more.
The camels remained out while the moon lasted and, when they came in, ’Ali Jahman found the halter of his beast missing. Quite unconcernedly he took a lantern and, follow¬ ing her tracks in the darkness where she had wandered graz¬ ing with more than a score of others, came back triumphantly with his lost property. It seemed simple enough, but behind the simplicity lay generations of experience.
CHAPTER IV
SOUTHERN JAEURA
We were now between 200 and 300 feet above sea-level but still within range of the coastal humidity. At 5 a.m., when we were roused for supper, it was pitch-dark and the sky cloudless but the ground was sopped with dew and a thick clammy mist enveloped the whole country. The air was pleasantly mild, however, and the minimum temperature of the mght had been as high as 50°. We had now left behind the varied and interesting scenery of the Jiban estuaries, and for the next few days our horizon would be hmted by the roUing dunes of Jafura but, before re-entering them I wanted to see the well of Hafair Ibn al Adham of which AJi had spoken. We accordingly sent forward the baggage on a direct bearing of SSW., while four of us— ’Ali, Ibn Humai3dd, Zayid and myself— struck out more to the right over the gentle sweU of the gravel plain dotted here and there with bushes of Hamdh.
The cool morning made marching over the featureless scene pleasant enough and we talked, as we went, of Wabar and the Empty Quarter, whose fringe we were so steadily approaching. But ’Ali was decidedly vague about the position of the well we sought and it seemed to me almost mcredible that we could succeed in our quest in such cir¬ cumstances. He had only visited this watering once in his hfe and that was in the ‘ day of Sarif ’ just about 30 years before, when he had come hither with his father to water the fa^y cattle. And, apart from the dull outline of Jafura which appeared on our left hand extending in a wide shallow arc towards the north and the low ridge already noted, which was now seen to be trending towards its grave at the edge of the sands, there was not a landmark to assist the traveller to
69
70 THE EMPTY QUARTER
tliG wa-tGr. ^ TitGiG thG guidG falters, and you cannot blame, quoted ’All from a poem attributed to the legendary King of Wabar. Yet as we marched we soon found ourselves in the midst of unmistakable indications of the propinquity of a watering — the almost obliterated camel-paths of an almost forgotten past, meandering apparently aimlessly across the plain. Suddenly ’All’s quick eye perceived the strewn dung- pellets that betrayed the immediate precincts of the well and in a few moments we had dismounted at the spot we sought. The well was dead and completely buried, scarcely percep¬ tible indeed except as a shallow dip in the surrounding flat¬ ness. Long neglected, deserted and forgotten, the site alone remained as a pathetic memorial to the enterprise ££nd in¬ dustry of its author, Ibn al Adham of the Buhaih Murra whose name it bears. In the now dim past he had dug out the shaft to a depth of eight fathoms, and the Murra camels had been watered here for years until a period of neglect — doubtless also a period of drought which had kept the grazing herds away — had done its inevitable work of destruction. Since then no man has had the energy to reopen the pit.
As we now breasted up towards the conspicuous brown line of the Jafura dunes, the plain gradually became more sandy with long trails lying to south-eastward, of the scanty ^Arrad shrubs. We passed into Jafura at the point where the low ridge already mentioned plunges into the sands and, as we stood on the crest of the first wave surveying the scene, it seemed that at intervals on either side of us the gravel desert ran into and under the sands in. a series of parallel groin-like dykes. Here and there these ribs lay exposed amid the sands with a thick covering of pebbles as of some ancient beach. Elsewhere all was sand, in long monotonous waves or tumbled dunes or shallow and undrdating plains. And it was all amazingly bare — such vegetation as there was in the hollows or on exposed patches of gravel or rock at the base of the dunes being dead or moribund. Animal life was correspondingly conspicuous by its absence — an occasional tiny colony of larks, once an eagle poised high above the desolation in search of game, a single dragonfly and a few
SOUTHERN JAEURA 71
Mantids in the gravel. From time to time we saw the tracks of hares, foxes and other animals but that was the nearest we got to making their acquaintance, and I wondered whether the eagle ever found anything to reward his patient soarings.
Such for the next three days was the scene of our wander¬ ings. About eight miles from the eastern fringe of the sands we came in their midst to the well of Qadha, which was a welcome break in our monotonous proceedings. How ’AM ever found it without map or compass and, again, only the vague memory of a single visit several years before, I cannot pretend to explain, but he did lead us to it almost in a bee- Mne ; and when we came to it there was nothing to see except a Mtter of camel-dung half buried in the sand to mark a pit over which the desert had spread an impenetrable veil. The shaft, situated in the cavity of a horse-shoe dune, had been in use as recently as five years ago, since when it had been neglected and allowed to disappear. Its depth to water was five fathoms.
Similar wells in this part of Jafura, and both apparently still in use, are Zibda (a day’s Journey to south of Qadha) and Sha’la (two days to WSW., and a little north of the line of Wadi Sahba), while in a westerly direction one might strike the Hasa-Jabrin camel-route in two days. Half a day on in the same direction one would, according to ’AM, come to the wells of Haradh, of whose existence Major Cheesman was for some reason so sceptical that he erased it from the map in which I had, tentatively and on hearsay information, in¬ serted it as a result of my journeys in 1917-18. It is true that I had been mistaken in assuming that this watering and 'Khin (of which more hereafter) must be in the bed of the Sahba channel and on or near the main Hasa-Jabrin route. But there can no longer be any doubt about the existence of Haradh approximately in the position here indicated-— perhaps 10 to 15 miles north-west of the position originaMy suggested by me— for it Mes on the only feasible motor-route between Hasa and J abrin and incidentaUy it is on an alternative and longer camel-route with the advantage of water at half¬ way. It had been visited by several of my present com¬ panions either by car or camel. Furthermore this watering
72
THE EMPTY QUARTER
had been used by Ibn Sa’ud in 1 900 as his base for the opera¬ tions that led to his recapture of Riyadh from the usurping dynasty of Ibn Rashid in the following spring. No motor car had yet visited Jabrin at the time of Major Cheesman’s Journey, and it would seem that, while cars have since reached Haradh not infrequently in the course of hunting expeditions, the through trip to Jabrin itself has only been performed once as a pioneer experiment. Between Haradh^ and Jabrin, however, the going is said to be excellent, while the occurrence of long patches of heavy sand makes the northern section of the route rather more difficult.
We had thus made a considerable detour for the barren satisfaction of placing on the map the two waterings of Hafair and Qadha, which had long since been abandoned to the tender mercies of the sand. Our next objective was to rejoin the main body and we turned south until from the crest of a range of dunes we espied the caravan crawling along in the far distance — a dark streak in the yellowish immensity of the rolling wilderness. We crossed the tracks of a wolf and saw occasional traces of bustard, but the most interesting experience of this first day in the sands was an object-lesson in the noble art of tracking evoked by the sight of northward-trending camel-tracks spread out over a wide front. Look, said ’Ali to Ibn Humaiyid, it is the folk of Salih ibn ’Ali (a minor chief of the ’Uwair section of Ghafran) come up from the south. They spoke of his coming soon but I thought we might find his people yet in the sands. It is but a day, or perhaps two, since they passed this way. Doubtless they watered at Zibda. And look, there is So-and- So and So-and-So — for there were human footprints too and these people were of his near kinship— and there is Salih himself, God save him ! So they marched on against the current of the tracks, communing with each other aloud, exchanging notes on those eloquent prints in the desert sand. It was months since ’ Ali had seen anything of his own
^ About days’ journey south of Haradh lies an unimportant watering called Waqar, while a group of rocks and caves known as Qusur ibn ’Ajlan lies not far from Haradh and a day’s journey south of the Hasa-Riyadh road. Major Cheesman was in error in stating that there is no water between Zarnuqa, Hasa and Jabrin. — See In Unknown p. 16,
SOUTHERN JAEURA 73
folk, and ke pored affectionately over the signs of their passing. What news had they, he wondered, of those further ^nds whither we would be going, of foes and pastures, of the Oryz shooting and other things? And now they would be spending the winter in the north and he would not see them tiU Ms coming again from the Empty Quarter. He sighed at that prospect with a heavy heart, for there was none in our company but wished he might be back by the comfortable camp-fires of Ms fellows at the pastures. By now they knew m rough outline the main objectives of our enterprise and they groaned some aloud and others silently — at the mad¬ ness of it all. Homesickness accounted for much of their stress- in these early days, but there was also a gripping fear at their hearts when mention was made of the HadMamauE^ and the Empty Quarter. And once in these early stages, when I asked ’Ah in the hearing of others some simple ques¬ tion about the relative positions of Qa’amiyat and Shuwaikila, he stared at me with quizzical incredufity as if to say : The man s possessed ! would he have us venture our fives where no one ventures but to hunt the Oryz. Yet how comes he to toow of these tMngs ? To enlighten Ms curiosity I showed Mm the map of ‘ the CMistian ’ ^ who had come up, as he well knew, tkrough the desert only the previous year under the guidance of Ms own cousin, Hamad ibn Sultan. But surely, I added, to put Mm on Ms mettle, the map that you and I will make, oh ’All, will be even as good. I will omit nothmg, he replied, that you may write it in your chart. And we will seek out even Hamad Mmself that he may good my deficiency. Never once— and it stands to Ms credit— did he betray the slightest sign of jealousy of the worthy rival, against whom he was pitted by my challenge. And in the matter of tracking, in wMch he was Mmself obviously a past-
wi^thout reason beKeved to mean ‘ the land of death ’.
Hazarmaveth of Oenesw and its people (sing. Hadhrami plur
thus that my companions referred to Mr. Bertram pT vk" Salih’s companion referring to his guide.
Sw borderland was always Abu Hunaik-^the
Duxln J*^»’-^hile Colonel H. R. P. Dickson of Kuwait was just
74 THE EMPTY QUARTER
master, he acknowledged that the greatest experts were to be found among the Dimnan group, who ha.d incidentally carried out quite recently a raid on some Dawasir cattle within the Hasa border and had been reported as having watered at Jabrin— a fact that made it desirable for us to walk circumspectly. The raiders had been from that part of the group which remained based on Najran^ when Suwid and his section seceded some years ago to sojourn in the Hasa. The whole of the waterless desert is accounted to the Dimnan from Maqainama westward, while the Ghafran of the south and the Jabir of Jabrin only spill over spasmodically into its fringes.
So in due course we overhauled the main body andean hour later found a shallow depression to camp in, where there was some scanty vegetation — Hamdh and Abal for the camels to browse on. In the midst of it and close to our camp was a patch of gravel out of which rose a low conical hillock^ of the underlying rock. It was still fairly early in the afternoon when we camped and I spent some time in a fruitless search for insects, while, on returning to the tents, I found one member of the party— Sa’d al Washmi, my groom— com¬ pletely prostrated with a bout of fever. I had a small store of medicines for such emergencies and treated him with aspirin fairly successfully, but it was some days before the ague left him and meanwhile he managed to convince himself —if no one else— that he at least would never return to his sorrowing family if we proceeded any further into the desert. He was at all times the most lugubrious of individuals with an incurably defeatist attitude towards hfe. Even when well he went about his business with mournful groans and muttering invocations to the Ahnighty to grant us a safe return home from aU the perils of the unknown. Abu Ja’sha had started out on the expedition with eyes so sore that he was practically blind and seemingly in great pain, which he bore in stoical silence though generally shmining the society of his fellows.
^ About this time a Wahhabi expeditionary force under Khalid ibn Luwai of Khurma and the Qahtan chief, Ibn Shaflut, was on its way to Najran to bring its .turbulent folk to book.
2 Such features are known as Quwid or Qar7i (horn).
SOUTHERN JAFURA 75
He had come to me for help in his affliction and all I could do was to give him boracic lotion to wash his eyes in. With the change in the climatic conditions, however, he now seemed to be rapidly getting better, though he obviously needed expert medical attention if he was to recover the full use of eyes manifestly affected by some serious form of ophthalmic disease. The trouble had doubtless been intensified by the extreme cold and his methods of keeping it at bay either by sitting close up to a blazing, smoky fire or by smothering himself under the blankets or clothing which served to keep him warm in sleep. To sleep with the head completely covered is of course normal in Arabia and they wondered at my exposing my head to the night chill. It is healthier, like that, I would say. No, by God ! retorted Abu Ja’sha, for at home on a cold night there is nought better than to get under the warm blankets with your wife, clasping her to your body with both arms round her and to sleep the night through like that. Can you then sleep like that ? I asked. Yes, by God ! he replied, I can ; I always do.
’Ali Jahman had something of a hankering for mild drugs, such as salts (Eno’s and Epsom), throat lozenges, quinine, aspirin and the hke, and freely indented on my stocks ; he now complained of pain and boils on his gums, for which I could think of nothing but a mild solution of iodine and water or zinc ointment as possible methods of treatment. He took some of both and presumably experimented with them but, noticing that he asked for no more though he still com¬ plained of the boils, I twitted him with loss of faith in my doctoring. No, he said, it is not that, but we Badawin also have our cures, and this morning before the fast I washed my mouth with the urine of my camel to ease the pain. Yet still I suffer. And he continued to suffer some days longer and I can claim no credit for his eventual recovery, which was pro¬ bably merely a question of time.
Our Ramdhan routine was now well estabfished and we were already quarter way through with the fast. The weather conditions had been cool enough to mitigate the discomfort of thirst and the unattractive monotony of our diet kept hunger at bay. There was indeed only the absence of coffee to
76 THE EMPTY QUARTER
trouble my companions— it was extraorcRnary how they hankered fretfully for their wretched tots of the feeble hquor and degenerated progressively as the warming sun played on their nerves distraught — ^wMle two of them suffered an additional penance not less acute. Earraj, as I have already mentioned, was a devotee of tobacco ; and the newcomer, Sahh, was in hke case. If you could tell me a cure for that, he sighed when we were talking of ’Ali’s gumboils and the rival merits of iodine and urine, I would thank you from the bottom of my heart. The only possible remedy was imposed on them in due course when their slender supply of tobacco came to an end. But meanwhile none yearned for sunset more earnestly than those two and their breaking of the 'fast was an impressive rite. There was but a single pipe of common clay for them tq_ share, turn and turn about ; but their ingenuity was equal to the occasion and an empty cartridge- case, pierced through the cap, served as a substitute bowl, the smoker inhaling the smoke through the tiny orifice held between his lips. In the morning, an hour or so before the dawn prayer, we would be roused from sleep for supper, after which my companions proceeded to imbibe as much coffee as possible in the time remaining to them while I retired to my tent and, with a pot of tea by my side, wrote up my journal or packed the insects and other specimens demanding my attention. The call to prayer was the signal for beginning the fast and, after our devotions, my companions composed themselves to slumber again, while I continued my inter¬ rupted labours until they were again checked at, or soon after, sunrise by preparations for the day’s march. I seldom seemed to get more than four or five hours of sleep during these days of fasting as I was generaUy busy with my notes and other things tiU midnight, but short hours of slumber involved no hardship under the healthy conditions of our out-of-door existence in a chmate which was as nearly per¬ fect as possible. I was gloriously conscious of physical well¬ being and spiritual contentment as I marched through the desert and thought fondly of the greatest of deserts beyond it, the promised land into which I should so soon be entering.
Next morning (January 15th) a brilliant sky greeted me as
ow they )le liquor )layed on fered an 3 already iwcomer, r that, he the rival le bottom L on them > came to set more 5 ’fast was common but their 3artridge- ute bowl, :ifice held )efore the )per, after 1 cofiee as red to my ly journal nding my inning the composed my inter- soon after, I seldom ep during my notes if slumber ms of our early per- sical well- rough the beyond it, entering, 3ted me as
I issned stood u Antares pion in i there wb been in i with ’A] Jabrin ? — or tw( me witi country.
Several 1
Sultan’s
them as separate] our sides difference our prac little of < Both he tions befi kiss. Yc Salih, wl] and villa broken t billows li them to I ten days'
SOUTHERN JAFURA 77
I issued from my tent at the supper call. The Southern Cross stood upright and Spica shone from the meridian, "while Antares twinkled hazily jfrom the upraised head of the Scor¬ pion in the south-east. A light mist enveloped the camp and there was dew upon the ground, though less than there had been in the coastal tract. We started ofi at 8 a.m. and I rode with ’Ah and Sahh. How far now, think you, I asked, to Jabrin 1 Three days, rephed ’Ali ; yes, three days or two days or two days. God knows. And Sahh sought to entertain me "with instructive information about his o"wn tribe and country. Our origin, but God is aU-knowing, is from the Qahtan, they say, for we reckon Ghuwainim al Zahri as the ancestor-of the Manasir and he was of Qahtan ; but we are of the Nasara of old, the Christians, whence our name. Surely there is something written of that in the books of the Franks. I agreed that the similarity of names supported the tradition. Several times, he continued, I have seen the consuls at Mas¬ qat, for we had a dole prescribed for us formerly from the Sultan’s treasury, but now our resort is only to Ibn Sa’ud. Buraimi is of the Manasir— full of the mansions of our Shaikhs who settled there under the Wahhabi government. But we are not of the Wahhabi rehgion, not Hanbah but Maliki. Yet there is little difference between us, God knows, though we only shorten the prayers when travelling without combining them as do the Wahhabis. We pray the five times each day separately and we stand for prayer with our hands loose at our sides, not joined over our belhes. But that is all the difference. I noticed, however, that Humaid conformed to our practice or Salih’s indifferently. Perhaps he thought little of such minor distinctions, for he was a philosopher. Both he and Sahh, when performing the formal dry ablu¬ tions before prayer, took up a handful of sand to bless with a kiss. You should see our settlements of Dhafra, continued Salih, where you may ride for three days among pahn-groves and villages. Before them the gravel plain stretches un¬ broken to the sea and behind us are the sands — waves and billows like this Jafura but better pastures. I have crossed them to Muqshin, where once we raided the ‘Awamir. It is a ten days’ journey across the sands, whither we go with oxir
78
THE EMPTY QUAKTER
camels. The best of the Manasir camels is of the breed called ‘Usaifir, light-coloured dromedaries as good as any. But of all the ‘ Umaniya breeds the very best come from the Duru’ and A1 bu Shamis tribes. And ’Ali’s mount, Na’riya the first of all our beasts, is of the Dara’iya race. The folk of A1 bu Shamis are not of the Muslimin but of the Tbadiya sect and they pray in a strange fashion.
About five miles on from our starting point we came upon bushes of Hadh,^ one of the most characteristic plants of the south, which I thus saw again for the first time on these wan¬ derings. It is evidently of the Hamd¥‘ family and of salty flavour but it is the staple food of the sand camels. Every now and then we passed by or across patches of gravel, some¬ times of considerable extent like great lakes in the sands. But animal life was scarce enough though we did see two hares. It is different in our country, said Salih, where game is plentiful — Oryx and gazelles and the wild ass and foxes, which we of the Manasir eat though the Marri dubs them unlawful. We have the wild-cat too, which they call Hirra and we Atfa’, and the badger.®
A light SW. breeze made things pleasant enough in the early afternoon, but after some six hours continuously in the sadie the men began to clamour for a halt and I had to resist their pressure to make sure of reaching the channel of Wadi Sahba, which lay somewhere ahead of us and where I was anxious to halt for the night in order to determine its position by astronomical observations. They only had the vaguest idea of its distance and I feared that a halt might baulk me of that important objective. My anxiety however proved to be as needless as their irritation, for scarcely an hour had passed when the vegetation suddenly began to show fresher and, almost without realising it, we found ourselves midway across the channel. Here it is, said ’Ali, the Sahba! Look, there is the Birkan which we always reckon to find in
^ I had collected specimens in 1918 which were identified as Salsola sp. G. Rohlfs figures it imder the name Oornulaca monocantha, Del. See Appendix.
^ Both are Chenopodiacece.
3 Dharimhan apparently ‘ badger ’ or possibly the Ratel.
SOUTHERN JAFURA
79
the channel. It grows not further north than this, but it is one of the best herbs of our southern pastures.
There was general rejoicing now that we had reached the spot where they might camp in peace till the next morning, while the camels grazed to their heart’s content on the BirJcan, I was equally satisfied to have all the time that was necessary to investigate the Sahba problem though it required some searching to discover the alignment of the two banks of the channel, which at this point of its course is almost entirely engulfed in the sands. The Sahba is one of the great and long-dead rivers of ancient Arabia, having a total length of more than 500 miles from its head in the flanks of ’Alam in the central highlands of Najd (in Long. 44 E., Lat. 25 N.) to its mouth in the Persian Gulf, Its upper reaches known as Wadi Sirra I had crossed during my journey of 1917, while in the following year I had seen something of two further sections to the eastward known as Sha’ib al Birk and Sha’ib 'Ajaimi. The latter runs down to Yamama in the lOiarj province, where I then saw the sand-choked head of the final reach which alone carries the name of Sahba. Major Chees- man had crossed this section about halfway between Yamama and the sea on his journey^ down to J abrin and had found it a well-marked channel between low banks, but had not been able to ascertain exactly its ultimate fate. It was not known therefore whether the Wadi came to grief in the Jafura sands or succeeded in pushing its way to the sea, while Mr. Bertram Thomas in his journey of last year did not notice or mention the channel, which he presumably crossed before reaching the palms of Nakhala, though it was probably so shallow there as to be imperceptible in the absence of the necessary knowledge in his guides. In Salih and Humaid, however, I had the good fortune to find natives of those parts who knew the Sahba channel in its lowest reaches, where it runs through the gravel plain of Majann to the sea between the tongues of Sila and Ba’ja. And in its bed, they said, at no great dis¬ tance southward of Nakhala lies a well called Batha. Thus we now have a good general idea of the whole course of the ^ river ’ from source to sea.
^ In Unknown Arabia, pp, 237 et seq.
80 THE EMPTY QUAETER
At the point where we had pitched our camp there was, as I have said, much sand spread over both the bed and the containing banks of the Wadi, but there was enough of the latter exposed to show that the channel was about a mile in width. The banks on either side scarcely exceeded 20 feet, while considerable sections of the floor were exposed along the north side, where a chain of gravel and pebble patches was broken at intervals by narrow isthmuses of sand or iso¬ lated dunes. The direction of the Wadi at this point was almost due west and east, but next day after marching about five miles on a SW. bearing we encountered the channel again in a well-marked gravel strip close on our right lying SW. and NE. It is probable, therefore, that the course of the'’ ‘ river ’ meanders somewhat through what must in its heyday have been very fiat country.
Here again there was a slight dew in the morning and a pair of ravens appeared to see us off before prospecting our camp-site for any crumbs that might have fallen from our frugal table. The landscape now flattened out to an exten¬ sive sandy plain, gently undulating and frequently inter¬ rupted by wide stretches of gravel. Jafura seemed indeed to be petering out, and I imagined that we might be entering the great gravel plain of Saramid mentioned by Major Chees- man. Yet my companions seemed to have no knowledge of any such tract though many of them were perfectly familiar with all the ordinary routes between Hasa and Jabrin. I wondered vaguely how this could be, and dismissed the matter from my mind, when the sight of more high dunes beyond the unusually large gravel tract we were negotiating showed that in fact Jafura was still very much alive and by no means done with.
So we marched over gravel and sand conversing of many things as we went to while away the time. I asked them about the much-fabled ‘ walking stones,’^ of which I had heard so much at a safe distance from Jafura but which seemed un¬ accountably non-existent now that we had actually entered the reputed arena of their activities. Humaid scouted the very idea of such things and evidently did not place any
^ See Appendix.
SOUTHERN JAEURA 81
reliance on the many tales of them told hy professing eye¬ witnesses ; hut Sahh came to the rescue with assurances that he himself had seen them in those far-off sands around his wonderful home, where there are according to Tn'm pre¬ historic ruins in which I might still see, if I eared to visit the scene under^his guidance, the guns used in the days of the ‘ Ignorance ’ ! Doubtless he may have seen pieces of artillery dating back to Portuguese times, hut I was beginning to realise that he preferred colour to truth and I reserved judg¬ ment on the walking stones ^ until they could be produced to perform in my presence. The only specimens of such I had myself seen hitherto were two bits of basaltic scoria from the volcanie tract of Harrat al Kishb in western Najd, but these had been duly examined by the authorities of the British Museum and divested of all reasonable claim to the magic qualities imputed to them by the Arabs.
Abu J a’sha, now more or less recovered from his ophthalmic troubles, was beginning to play a prominent part in the desultory conversations that accompanied our marching. Among his treasured possessions was a pocket compass, on the strength of which he boasted something of a scientific attitude towards life, and he was as delighted as a child one day when, before an admiring audience, his needle was found to point in exactly the same direction as that of my prismatic affair. But his strong subject was sex, and he loved to poke fun at Sahh by dilating on Manasir practice in the matter of female circumcision. Take it from me, he said, they let their women come to puberty with chtoris intact and, when a girl is to be married, they make a feast for her circumcision a month or two before the wedding. It is only then that they
circumcise them and not at birth as do the other tribes _
Qahtan and Murra, Bani Hajir, ay, and ’Ajman. Thus their women grow up more lustful than others, and fine women they are too and that hot! But then they remove everything, making them as smooth as smooth, to cool their ardour with¬ out reducing their desire. Zayid blushed for his rmblushing frankness. Be not angry with him, he urged, it is his way and his tongue masters him but he has a good heart. An/I if they make a feast for such occasions I asked, do they perform the
g2 THE EMPTY QUARTER
ceremony publicly as with boys ? God save you ! No, he replied, but the girls are dealt with in their tents by women who know their business, and get a dollar or so for the job. They are expert with the scissors, the razor and the needle, which are all used for the operation. The Dawasir do not practise female circumcision nor the townsfolk of Najd ; and some of the northern tribes do, while others do not.
We were now marching over an ever-widening gravel plain which seemed to undulate very slightly, while beyond it they pointed out the dunes called A1 Qasam, before reaching which the desert surface sank to a shallow but well-marked de¬ pression— more like a valley indeed than the Sahba had seemed at our crossing of it, though its lowest point was scarcely more than 20 feet below the banks on either side— perhaps half a mile apart. You see this trough, volunteered Suwid, it is a branch of the Sahba which leaves it in the Summan about level with or further back than Haradh. We call it Surr al Madd — the depression of the well-camel for once upon a time, they say, a party of men were crossing this desert with some of their well-cattle, and one of the animals died in this channel near where it forks off from the Sahba. Therefore they called it Surr al Ma’id. My mind jumped to an obvious inference, for the name solved the mystery of Major Cheesman’s ' Saramid.’ The channel appeared to be completely blocked by a line of sand about a mile to the west, while eastward it ran or seemed to run for some three miles to the sands on that side. The surface of the bed was of light gravel with a thin covering of sand, and the upward slope southward was very gentle.
We now entered a broad belt of dunes as high as anything we had encountered in all the breadth of Jafura behind us and I admired the quickness of the Arabs in detecting and avoiding the spots where the sand was deep and soft. Occa¬ sionally there was no alternative to crossing narrow strips of such character and it was interesting to see the camels fall instinctively into single file so that those behind, treading in the footsteps of their predecessors, might enjoy the advan¬ tage of a beaten track. This belt of dunes, occasionally interspersed with small patches of gravel and belts of good
vegeta betwec similai therefi thougl sion ai Bey rupted we em course of Jafi our rig for th€ march( great I undula make : eluded linquis^ where fodder no par should well th still hai certain Wei the lat agreeal Apart i had not day. I sands a next da rewards What a was as 1 from sa about a
SOUTHERN JAFURA 83
vegetation, is known as A1 Qasam, that is to say ^ the division ^ between Jafura proper and its westward continuation, of similar though barer character, called A1 Haml. In a sense therefore Jafura ends here at the channel of Surr al Mahd though southward of our line of march it crosses the depres¬ sion and appears to riin on to the edge of the Jaub.
Beyond Al Qasam, nearly 10 miles wide but much inter¬ rupted towards its further fringe by extensive gravel patches, we emerged into the gravel plain of Hidbat al Buduh Our course lay south-west between the southward-trending line of Jafura to our left and the westerly horn of it (Al Haml) on our right. The divergence of these two lines of sand made for the progressive broadening of the plain, over which we marched in grim desperation in the hope either of reaching the great basin of Jabrin before sunset or of finding in the gentle undulations of the plain itself a fine of herbage which would make it possible to camp for the night. Both objectives eluded us and it was nearly o p.m. w^hen we decided to re¬ linquish the effort and to camp in a shallow drainage-hne where there was dead vegetation to serve as fuel but no fodder for the camels. A violent altercation, in which I took no part, ensued among my companions as to whether we should stop or go on to the bitter end. And it was perhaps as well that the Ayes, thinking chiefly of coffee, had it, for we still had very far to go next day and the quality of the desert certainly did not improve.
We had done some 25 miles with practically no break, and the latter part of the march had been made rather dis¬ agreeable by a moderate but persistent wind in our faces. Apart from a few lizards found in the gravel my collecting had not prospered and we had seen no hares or other game all day. I had, however, noticed a solitary locust in the Jafura sands and we were to encounter another on the gravel plain next day, while a few brilhantly-coloured scarab beetles had rewarded my exertions at our last camp in Wadi Sahba. What a lifeless, desolate waste it was — and this vast plain was as bad as any part of it, extending some 10 miles across from sand to sand. The Hasa- Jabrin road was said to lie about a day’s journey to our westward at this stage, while
84 THE EMPTY QUARTER
the first well of the Jabrin basin proved to be 25 miles on and the important watering of Bir ’Aziz in the Janb itself was said to be about two days’ march to south-east of our present camp. Here and there an isolated sand-dune stood up out of the gravel, across which ran the camel-paths pointing the way from the Jafura pasture-grounds to the Birkan watering, wKicli wo sb-Ould sook on ttio morrow.
We resumed the march earlier than usual in the mormng to come to the water as soon as possible and ambitiously hoping to make Jabrin itself before nightfaU. We had been marching for a quarter of an hour when the sun rose out of a little pool of light on an almost sea-hke horizon. With the sun came quite a thick haze over the distant sands On our left hand, but out on the plain the air was clear and dry. At times we had glimpses of the sands afar off to the north-west and in front of us where their line curves round to a promon¬ tory known as Sula’ al Haml. But most of the time we marched over an unbroken desolation, where the sands had
receded for good on both sides .
A brisk breeze from the south-west served to keep us cool and Salih was again to the fore in praise of the greater beauty and charm of his own country. If you saw it, he said, you would indeed wonder. It was inhabited of old by Bam TTiial and it was of their guns I spoke yesterday. The pHce is called Sirra, and I will conduct you there next year if God wills, but you should bring an engineer with you to see it. Perchance there may be gold there for the hiUs are all red. Also ia Dhafra there are bones and other remains, they say, of a great battle in old times between the Persians and Bani Hilal. And you shall stay with my people as long as you will ; ay, and I wfil find you a girl to wed, and one also for Zayid. But the conversation flagged somewhat. We were aU getting rather tired of this stage of our journey.
Soon after midday, however, the country began to show signs of breaking up in wide shallow saucers with some shght vegetation including the Dhumran. A little further on the imdulations became more marked, and yet a little while later the surface shelved down rapidly, but easily, to a vast shallow basin whose hither fringe was guarded by a line of sandy
SOUTHERN JAFURA 85
ridges tMckly dotted with bushes. On a small knoll of the gravel plain we halted to survey the scene, a vague lowland encircled by insignificant ridges ending in petty headlands near the watering of Birkan. To the right of it, showing above an intervening sand-ridge, appeared a small group of tall palms. And beyond the depression the desert extended, broken and indistinct, to the southward towards Macjainama.
We hastened on to come at 5 p.m. to the Birkan weE at the edge of Jaub al Budu’, and found ourselves thus, after three days of the desert sands, back among the estuaries of the ancient sea.
CHAPTER V
JABRIN
‘ It seems to be an extensive palm tract, now too m^arious for permanent habitation, but visited at the time of date harvest by Aal Morrah Bedawins, who report that they have seen rums of habitations and, after rain, coins lying on the surface of its soil.’— D. G. Hogarth.^
The oasis tracts of Hasa and Jabrin are situated nearly 150 miles apart at the base of a broad belt of steppe whose major and minor divisions, known by various local names, may con¬ veniently be regarded as forming a homogeneous geographical unit under the general designation of Summan. This steppe probably overlies Cretaceous,^ Eocene and Miocene deposits in that order from west to east and is separated respectively from the central plateau of Tuwaiq and the sea by two long sand- arms thrust out northwards by the Great South Desert. The western arm is the famous Dahna, traceable southwards through the belt of Rumaila into the great welter of sands of the Empty Quarter beginning with Bani Ma’aridh, to whose northern frontier indeed the Summan steppe itself runs down approximately in Latitude 19 N. under the name of Abu Bahx. The more easterly sandbelt is Jafura, which we had by now pretty thoroughly explored and which is itself separated from the sea by a series of estuary-hke coastal indentations. Its southern fringe is similarly cut ofi from the main body of the great southern sands by an estuary of considerable length and importance running up roughly westward from the sea to the Jabrin basin at the foot of the Summan. This estuary is the great Jaub, which is however divided up in local nomenclature into several sections, the westernmost of which is the Jabrin basin proper generally known as the Juba.
1 The Penetration of Arabia, 1905, p. 233.
^ Eor geological details see Appendix.
JABRIN
87
Proceeding eastward we come to the section called Jaub al Budn’ whose easterly limit is roughly in the neighbourhood of Birkan, where we had now arrived. The depression con¬ tinues hence south-eastward under the name of Jaub {par excellence), wherein lies a whole series of wells including the important watering of Bir ’Aziz, to the Longitude of Bunaiyan or thereabouts, whence the estuary splays out into a bay of irregular outline whose individual indentations northward and eastward are grouped together as the Jiban, while each bears a distinctive name. The more northerly of these minor estuaries we had already visited, while Mr. Bertram Thomas, when marching from Bunaiyan towards the Qatar peninsula, traversed the valleys or passed the mouths of those further south. Subject therefore to further exploration and more detailed survey of the outline of these Jiban depressions we would seem to have sufficiently good grounds for linking the Jabrin basin with the general estuary system and thus to some extent providing an explanation both of its existence where it is and of its very peculiar character.
Of the Jaub proper it is unnecessary here to say much as I did not see any part of it during my journey. So far as I could gather, its course at first runs south-east and later turns north-east past Bunaiyan into the lesser Jiban. In its bed are numerous wells at fairly wide intervals beginning with the important watering of Al Qasab about 50 feet deep and a day’s journey south-east from Qaliba which we were to visit in due course. Between Al Qasab and the not less important well of Bir ’Aziz, perhaps two days’ journey or rather less south-west of Bunaiyan, are no fewer than eight waterings.^ This section of the great estuary is therefore of considerable importance to the Murra herdsmen pasturing their camels in the sands on either side and becomes a favourite line of tribal concentration in seasons of favourable rain-faU. The depth of the wells appears to decrease pro¬ gressively eastward, the deepest of them being Qasab itself.
^ From west to east : Dhumaidan (7 fathoms), Muiaihat al Qibliya, Mulaihat al Hadriya, Latit, Asal, Huqsha, Hidba and ’Atsa (one day SW. of Bir ’Aziz).
88
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Tlie depression of Jaub al Budn’, as we saw it from the higher ground of the gravel plain northward of it, appeared as a wide long salt-flat extending westward between Arm sand-ridges which form a buffer between the low ground and the surrounding escarpment. At its eastern extremity, tucked away in a sharp bend of the sand fringe, lay the single well of Birkan, near which but in a well- wooded hollow of the sands we pitched our camp. It was then 5 p.m., and those con¬ cerned with such things got busy with the coffee and supper against sunset — ^the zero hour of the Arabian day and by con¬ ventional usage 6 p.m. by the reckoning of the European population at Jidda. I went down to see the camels watered at the well, whose plentiful and excellent water — it was a spring rather than a well — ^lay at a depth of only four feet. That done, I wandered about in the veritable coomb of Tarfa and Ghadha bushes and met Suwid returning from a tour of inspection. Well, I asked, what have you seen ? Are there any Arabs about 1 No, he replied, I have been all round back there and saw neither Arabs nor camels, but I did see a ' walking stone ’ — ^if you go up there to that bush yon¬ der you will find it yet. I saw its track in the sands and then came to it. I strolled away in the direction he had indicated, and on a steep slope of sand actually saw the pattern of tracks made by what seemed to be a rough nodule of flint. Otherwise the phenomenon was not of great interest as the movement of the stone was quite obviously due to the slip¬ ping of the sand under it on the steep slope. Ear off we could see the dark headland of Eardat al Kldn marking roughly the position of the Ihhwan hamlet of Khin and the general direction (approximately west-north-west) of the morrow’s march. But I was disappointed to see nothing of the great Jabrin oasis which, according to Major Cheesman’s map, should have lain almost due north of Khin. Perhaps, I thought, our guides had managed to bring us to the most southerly point of the basin ; yet it puzzled me to hear that we now had to march west rather than north to get to our destination. Suwid, our expert for this part of the journey, insisted that it was indeed so and scoffed at my ideas of the lie of the land. Who should know Jabrin if I don’t ? said
JABRIN
89
he, for I settled here with Hamad ibn Muradhdhaf and his Ilchwan for some years and wandered all over the place seeking new springs on which to plant palms. I gave up that life when Hamad died and the fever drove his folk out of the houses they had built. Many of them died and the rest took to the desert, and no more do they live in the village.
The lightest of easterly breezes sped us on our way over the mile-wide salt-flat at 8 a.m. next day. The saline mud of the depression was very rough and dirty with occasional miser¬ able patches of Tarfa and dwarf-palms. In half an hour of rather tiresome marching we came to the palms we had seen the previous evening — only four tall, weedy stems sur¬ mounted by thick tufts of fronds and fed by a single well- spring of the same depth as that by which we had spent the night. We had sent the baggage-train on by the direct route up the depression to a named rendezvous in the Jabrin oasis itself, in order that we might have aU the time we needed to see what there was to be seen in Jaub al Budu’. Their route lay westward through the wells and Tarja scrub of Umm Ithila,^ while from the palms now reached we struck north¬ west across the salt-flat to re-enter the bordering sand-ridges over which we switchbacked up hill and down dale, getting good views of our surroundings from each successive crest.
A hare went away from under our feet as we marched through the copious scrub of Shinan and Ghadha. The salt- flat came round parallel to our course at no great distance on the left with occasional inlets protruding far into the sands. These we crossed or skirted as was most convenient, and in some of them we found the wreckage of small dead clumps of palms which had at some time subsisted on the salty water obviously close up to the surface. In a hollow of the sands close by we came upon a single palm-stem growing by the side of a shallow well, about two feet deep, and then we went by another more extensive bay of the Sabkha with masses of Haifa grass, from which the well and the wretched palm- clumps of this neighbourhood derive the name of Bid’ al Haifa.
^ This is the correct name of the locality and not Umm Maithala as shown on IVIr- Thomas’ map.
90
THE EMPTY QUARTER
The sand-ridges now gave way to a sandy plain extending between the vast salt-flat on our left (our course being now very shghtly north of west) and the edge of the steppe desert, which here ran down towards the edge of the depression in a series of well-marked ridges studded with higher buttress- Hke headlands. At one of these, vaguely labelled Khashm al Khin, we drew rein for a while to enable me to survey the country from its summit some 50 feet above the level of the pi a, in From here the edge of the steppe could be picked out in such eminences as Al Usba’ (a tiny needle of rock at the end of a ridge on the north side of the Juba basin) almost due west ; a group of eroded rocks to north-west called Ghar al Jaul ; and the twin headlands of Eardat al Khin to the north¬ east. Here and there small isolated rocks rose out of the salt- flat to south and south-west, while the palms of Birkan were visible to the south-eastward. They pointed out also another miserable palm-clump marking the position of Bid’ al Nakhla somewhat south of west and the palms of Khin itself due west.
Towards the latter we now directed our course over a plain of alternating sand and hght gravel with patches of the ex¬ posed white or pinkish sandstone bed-rock. On the way, and with much to do and fuss involving practically every mem¬ ber of the cavalcade, they extricated a charming little Jerboa from its hole in the sand, while on a bare stalk of Ghadha I had the pleasnre of finding and capturing my first — and, as it turned out, only— specimen of the Leopard Moth discovered by and named after Major Cheesman. My com¬ panions stood by and wondered if I had suddenly taken leave of my senses as I dismounted to stalk the quarry, which in fact they did not see until it had fallen still slumbering peace¬ fully into a kiUing-bottle to be held up to their admiring gaze.
And so we came to Khin, a wretched Httle hamlet of six mud-huts, of which one was the mosque and another, the largest, the residence of the chief of the httle Ikhwan colony, along the western base of a low sand-ridge. The huts were arranged in a rough semicircle with four wells in the open space between them and the ridge. Of these one was com¬ pletely buried by sand, while another encircled by a wall was
JABRIlSr
91
choked by the trunk of a living palm. The other two wells, dug out of the sandstone rook, had plenty of excellent sweet water at a depth of only four feet. In the largest house, belonging to Rashid ibn Andaila^ of the Hasana subsection of Buhaih who had founded the colony soon after the birth of that at Jabrin itself, we found the wooden frame of a camel saddle, but that was the only sign of human occupation we saw. The mosque indeed told the full tale of the hamlet’s desolation for it was half buried by the all-devouring sand. Its niche of direction was oriented at 253° — a result which was more than creditable to an unknown architect working without compass nearly 600 miles from his objective.^ Such a sense of *true direction is almost incredible in people who have never so much as seen a map.
Yet here I was involved in a violent argument with my own (professional) guides about the direction of a very much nearer locality. Major Cheesman’s map placed the well and Ikhwan settlement of J abrin north-north-west of Khin, while Suwid insisted that they were slightly south of west. So we ascended to a point of vantage on the sand-ridge to argue the matter out. What are those palms, I asked, a little beyond the houses ? They have no name, replied Suwid, just the palms of Khin. But, I countered, surely the different groups must have different names. There are three groups I see. They are all just the palms of Khin, he rephed stubbornly — they have no other names. Surely, I urged, that lot to the left must be Umm al Nussi and that to its right is Umm al ’Adhwa and the third lot only is Khin. A curious, incredu¬ lous hght came into his eyes. Who told you that ? he asked. My book and my map, I rephed, teU me that— the book of the Enghshman who came down to Jabrin with Sahh in the year of Ibn Sa’ud’s illness — and Salih was of the Jabir ; surely he would know such places. He may have known, he rephed, but he may have hed. I bear witness before God that he hed to the Enghshman if he told him that was Umm
^ Major Cheesman met him in 1924 and was presented by him with a Saluqi hound which subsequently won a prize at a show in London. He calls iiim Rashid ibn Daleh but the correct name is as given by me here, or perhaps Nudaila.
^ Le, Mecca.
92 THE EMPTY QUARTER
al Nussi and that Umm al ’Adwa. I know both these places well enough, for they are not far from my own palms of Ghubaiya, palms I planted with my own hands. If God wills, I will show you them that you may know Salih lied. They are over there (pointing about south-west) and far away. You cannot see them from here and those palms yonder are all Khin. Am I a Har then that you do not believe me ? As for Salih, may God cut off his house ! but he must be dead by now, for when we left the Hasa he was lying sick to death in his tent. They said he could not live much longer — he was dying of consumption, but God is almighty in all things. Suwid was obviously rattled at my sceptical attitude, and I did my best to soothe his wounded feelings, for the truth of the matter would obviously be revealed to me during the next few days. And, to do him justice, let it be said at once that he was perfectly right ; while, to do equal justice to Sahh, I cannot do better than quote the words pur¬ porting to be his own in Major Cheesman’s account : ‘ Al Ediin is a well close to Jabrin, half a day on a camel to the east of the palm-tract, and there are a few palms there. That is an admirably exact description, and it was clear to me later that the error in Major Cheesman’s map must be attributed to himself rather than his guide. After quoting the description given above he added : ‘ I was able to see Al Khin later and confirm his account,’ while two pages later^ he writes : ‘We reached the end of the big palm tract about six miles south of the northern margin. After this there were merely patches, a few isolated tolls, a mile or two apart, one of which was Al Khin mentioned above.’ In fact the patches included both Umm al Nussi and Umm al ’Adwa as shown in his map but not Al Khin which, as Sahh had told him and I saw with my own eyes, hes half a day’s journey east of Jabrin proper and not merely seven or eight miles south of it. Major Cheesman therefore could not have seen Al KJnn and his remarks about it are apparently based on some misunderstanding.
Erom the sand-ridge of Khin I saw the plantation of Umm Ithila far out on the great salt-flat somewhat east of south,
1 In Unknown Arabia, p. 259. 2 75^^^ pp^ 259 and 261.
JABRIN
93
but the rest of the landscape was much the same as we had seen from the eminence already mentioned, except that we now had a distant view of the Barq al Samr uplands south of the Jabrin basin. So, mth judgment still suspended as between Suwid and Major Cheesman, we marched west- south-west and then more south-west on the line indicated by the former. My companions made no secret of their agi¬ tation at my hypercritical attitude towards their geogra¬ phical contributions, but a second Jerboa obligingly appeared to change the trend of their thoughts and a wild chase, greeted by chaotic laughter, ended in the capture of the jinking quarry.
We marched at first over a rough and dirty patch of salt- flat and then in an easy, gently undulating tract of sand and gravel, towards which the steppe desert ran down in a series of low, degenerate, echeloned tongues. Passing by the end of the chalky sandstone ridge of Al Usba’, with a hillock called Al Thaniya far to our right and the headland of Khashm Na’aiyim to our right front, we rode on over more undulating sand and gravel to a plain strewn with broken fragments of flint or chert, among which I could detect no sign of ancient artifacts.
From a low hiUock in this tract they pointed out to me the two ridges of Jawamir between which the Hasa road runs down into the Jabrin basin, whose vague blur of vege¬ tation lay before us with the setting sun in our faces. There, said ’Ali, are the Mubarrazat (a hne of low rocky hummocks) whither the Arabs of Jabrin go to camp, fleeing from the fever. They cannot hve in the midst of the pahns, where the ague falls upon them that they die. It was ever thus here, but Hamad ibn Miiradhdhafr planted his colony at the edge of the palms in the fever-heat of the new rehgion. He is gone now, God have mercy upon him ! and many of those who settled with him. The rest have fled, leaving their houses empty, to hve in the desert, and they come again only in the season to glean the dates, which they tend not at aU. They shun the fever as the devil himself.
He was Major Cheesman’s host in 1924. The guest returned his hos¬ pitality by handing down his surname to posterity in the more picturesque form of Maradvath. In Unknown Arabia, p. 247.
94
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Sending the rest ahead while we surveyed the scene, ’Ah and I dropped down into the wide salt-flat which marked the beginning of the Juba depression. He led and I followed but suddenly his camel began to flounder about, knee-deep in a veritable bog. Warned by such behaviour I shpped to the ground from my saddle — thereby earning some kudos from my companions, to whom my exhibition of skill and agility was duly reported by the approving expert with suit¬ able exaggerations — and, being myself on firm ground, was able to seize ’Ali’s bridle and lead his mount back into safety without necessitating his own dismounting in the sloshy quagmire. Look you, said ’Ali, the sun sets. Let us there¬ fore pray now — it will be a long time yet before we can break our fast. So we prayed together at the edge of the bog, he reciting the prayer formulae with me at his right side — when the congregation is not more than three persons, one acts as Imam and the others stand on either side of, not behind him. The praying over, 'Ali made a cup of his hands to catch the urine of his staling dromedary and broke his fast by rinsing out his mouth in the approved fashion. Then he produced from a fold of his shirt two cough lozenges which he had had from me some days before. You take one, he said, and I will eat the other. So we broke the long day’s fasting and continued our march, walking for a bit to feel our way cautiously across the morass of salt to the sandhills beyond. We then mounted and trotted on until the camp¬ fire of our companions appeared in the distance as a beacon to guide us in the dark. Soon after 7 p.m. we arrived at the camp, pitched as arranged beforehand with our baggage-folk by the sweet-water wells of A1 Mushammara, reputed to be among the best in the whole basin. One was buried but the other had water at a depth of only six feet. The Mubarraz knolls lay close by to the north-west and north in a semicircle on some high bare ground, while nearer at hand to east and south lay the scanty palm-groups of Ghuraba and Ma’jaba. A mile away to the south-west was the patchy plantation of Nakhl Ah ibn Najran, and a low forest-like tract of palms, tall and small, seemed to extend to the far distance both north and south. But there was nothing impressive about
JABRIN
95
the oasis of Jabrin when I saw it by the light of the morning. Only the distant hillocks of Dharbun and Mutrib stood out pronoinent like watch-towers in the south-east, while the twin Jawamir gloomily guarded the Hasaward approach and the tumbled upland of Summan closed the western horizon like a waU.
A wolf and a fox made an inspection of our camp during the night but got nothing for their pains and left nothing but their tracks. A cold breeze sprang up at dawn but the day broke fine and sunny, while we took our ease to celebrate the completion of the first stage of our journey — the exploration of Jafura and its fringes. These three days (January 19th to 21st) we would devote to a thorough examination of the last outpost of civihsation towards the Great South Desert of the Empty Quarter, on which we would then em¬ bark. Meanwhile it was pleasant to think of restful days, good pasturing for the camels, water and food for ourselves and perhaps even human society, though we had so far seen no signs of man. Yet here many centuries ago there was something like civilisation and a well-organised society, though human memory retains little of the past beyond the one romantic fact that the poet Earazda(j was born and lived in Jabrin to sing of the chivalry whose champions are forgot¬ ten or merged in legend.
Yet their works live after them in the ruinous remnants of a dozen mansions, solidly though simply built of clay and coarse masonry for protection rather than display, and scattered about the oasis to remind us of a past at least more impressive than the present. And when was that ? Was it in the tenth century of our era or, as Major Cheesman sug¬ gests, about 600 years ago ? Or was it in the ‘ Days of the Ignorance ’ before the dawn of Islam ? We know not and caimot say, though we may be certain that the history of Jabrin as a centre of human activity goes back to a very early period in the annals of man, if only we could unearth the necessary material for its reconstruction. Perhaps we should find some corroboration of the vague and seemingly valueless local legend that the original inhabitants of Jabrin were driven forth into the desert by ’Ad ibn Kin’ad himself.
96
THE EMPTY QUARTER
the great King of Wabar. That one at least of the old man¬ sions — and perhaps the greatest — was destroyed by fire in some form is rendered certain by the ashes that have given it its name, Umm al Ramad,^ but we need not follow the modern story-tellers in the highest flights of their fancy which attri¬ butes to ’Ad the use of gunpowder for the destruction of the enemy stronghold !
We spent the days of our sojourn at Jabrin in exploring the whole oasis as thoroughly as possible from those very ruins of Umm al Ramad amid the rolling downs of sand on the northern fringe of the oasis, which we made our base of operations. My companions would have preferred to remain on the water at Mushammara but I was anxious to select for my astronomical observations a site as near as possible to Major Cheesman’s camp of 1924. The exact site of his work I failed to determine as all our researches failed to discover the 40-foot well of which he speaks,^ though the single mud- built dwelling of eight years ago was now swollen to the dimensions of a hamlet of six houses, of which the largest was that of the late Hamad ibn Muradhdhaf and another the local mosque. In this village we found two wells with water at three fathoms and palm-timbers framing their mouths. The settlement, now completely deserted after a gallant but losing battle with the fever, lies at a distance of a quarter hour to the south-east of Umm al Ramad in a fold of the sandy downs less than a mile north of the first palms of the oasis — a grove belonging to one Salih ibn Minya and containing a well with water reputed to be the equal of Mushammara in sweetness. Its depth was not more than 10 feet.
The first day we spent in exploring the oasis southward from Mushammara with the result that we did not arrive at the ruins of Qasr Umm al Ramad till after dark. Next morning I found a heavy dew on the ground and on the plentiful vegetation of the downs, while a thick mist de¬ scended upon and blotted out the landscape after sunrise. I spent aU the morning until considerably past midday in
1 Meaning ‘ Mother of ashes ’ ; Major Cheesman’s Jam Ramad.
^ In Unknown Arahia^ p. 260.
JABRIN
97
exploring and making a plan of ttie fairly extensiye ruins. In them we found all manner of remnants of the past- — broken bangles, scattered beads, fragments of pottery and an earthen jar of some size which unfortunately fell to bits as we removed it from its grave of sand and ashes. Major Cheesman does not appear to have visited these ruins, but the material I collected from them has elicited from Miss Gertrude Caton- Thompson — a distinguished authority in such matters -the guarded suggestion that they may date from the twelfth cen¬ tury or earlier. Such a date would perhaps indicate a con¬ nection with the Carmathian occupation of the Hasa and the Persian Gulf littoral, but the remains are probably too frag¬ mentary and undistinguished to justify any dogmatic deter¬ mination of their date.
About a couple of miles south-east of these ruins lies the simpler but better-preserved square building of Qasr Tuwairif,^ wholly constructed of the local salt-imprcgnairHl clay which seems to wear better than its crumbling a[){H^a.r~ ance suggests. It is about 25 yards each way but of no gr(%'i,t interest except as a conspicuous landmark just outside t lui north-eastern fringe of the oasis.
From the palms of Salih ibn Minya southwards to the spring of Ain ibn Marshad, with a width of perhaps miles east and west, extends the richest palm-tract of t he oasis. The shallow springs which feed the untended pahns for the experiment of artificial fertilisation, noted by Major Cheesman as having been introduced in 1924 for tlie fii'st* time, has of course been abandoned with the exodus of the colonists — are far too numerous to mention. Some arc dcKui ; others are choked by the struggle of reeds and palms t/o moao- polise their pits ; while others again are alive and active. On the whole the palms are degenerate, but here and there groups of well-grown and apparently prosperous trees, whih^ the pleasantest part of this tract, to my eye, was a fairl}^ extensive jungle of the species of acacia called 'Aqul, whose russet foliage and brown, fruit-hke galls made a pleasant, mn- trast with the dark green of the palms and the lighter shades of the tall reeds. In this neighbourhood too are to be ^ Major Cheesman has two illustrations of it. Ibid, p. 271.
98
THE EMPTY QUARTER
found two ruinous mansions, one of which, the property of Major Cheesman’s guide Sahh, lies in the midst of a charming palm-grove but otherwise presented no feature of interest. The other, knowni as Qasr ’Uwaida ibn Adhaiman, stands at the junction of the two main palm-belts of the northern section of the oasis — ^Al Ghubha to eastward belonging to two prominent men of the Murra, Hamad ibn Nautan and Sa’ud ibn Qurai’, and Ummhat al Easam to the west owned by Faisal ibn Muradhdhaf and ’Aidh ibn ’Uzra of the Jabir clan — and appears to have formed part of a very much larger enclosure, whose foundations are clearly visible though almost flush with the ground. The surviving walled en¬ closure consists of an open courtyard with a dead and reed- choked pool in its midst, while about a quarter of the space is occupied by a square keep still in a fair state of preservation.
The southern section of the oasis, whose total length from Qasr Umm al Ramad in the north to the most southerly well of Hafair is about 12 miles in a straight hne, is more sparsely dotted with groves though some of them — ^for in¬ stance that of Harbaqa belonging to one Ibn JubaiyiTn of the Jabir — are as rich and prosperous as any in the northern sector. In this area the saline soil is more hable to the charac¬ teristic subsidences known as Sarut (plural Sawarit), of which I saw two good specimens. They were only a few feet in diameter and not deeper than the shallow pools foimd all over the oasis at a depth of two or three feet. In fact these tiny crevasses seemed to me to be probably due to the collapse of the surface covering by the evaporation of the underlying water and the consequent drying up of the salt-impregnated soil.
Along the western fringe of the oasis, indeed, I came upon three extensive groups of curious dry sahne mounds, which are known as Jifdara (plmal J ifadir) and which at the time I imagined to be the result of something hke the same-process as is at work to this day to form such subsidences. Only in the case of the Jifadir it occurred to me that they might represent the rehcs of ancient palm-groves killed by the desic-
1 Named Qasr al Khirba by Major Cheesman. In Unknown Arabia,
JABRIN
99
cation of the sub-soil pools and subsequently rotted to dust by a combination of centuries and salt. Since my return to England, however, Miss Caton-Thompson has told me of her interesting discovery of fossilised springs in the oases along the fringe of the Libyan desert.^ My mind harked back at once to these J ifadir mounds of Jabrin and I would suggest — for what it is worth and in the hope that some future better- quahfied visitor may investigate the matter more carefully — that they may possibly be another instance of the same phenomenon of fossilisation.
Another interesting point about these mounds is that, at any rate in two out of the three groups, there are quite distinct traces of typical subterranean aqueducts of the Kariz type, with manholes at intervals along their course, such as are found elsewhere in Arabia in association with springs, though in the part of Jabrin concerned there are, as far as I could discover, no extant springs to justify the aqueducts. It seemed to me, however, that this now bare and deserted western strip of the oasis may formerly have been an important, if not the most important, area of culti¬ vation and palmiculture in the oasis. In it at any rate occur the ruins of another mansion, now known as Qasr Sahm ibn Jabir, consisting of a 30-foot square keep jutting out from the north-western corner of a considerable rectangular courtyard. The walls of this ruin are still clearly traceable, though in parts half buried in sand, to a height of about 10 feet. And a little way beyond it to the south-east I came upon a low knoll on whose summit were some large blocks of the local stone with all the appearance of a fallen dolmen-like struc¬ ture. Close by it was a similar mound or ridge which may have been formed by Nature but looked to me hke the wreck of human handiwork.
To return to the southern section of the oasis I saw at Harbaqa, where the palms are much interspersed with flowering reeds and tamarisk and where incidentally I met a Painted Lady,^ the ruins of another fort, only 25 feet
^ For a description of such springs see Miss E. W. Gardner’s paper in the Geological Magazine, vol. Ixis, No. 819, September, 1932.
^ I saw three of these in all during our sojourn at Jabrin but no other butterflies.
100
THE EMPTY QUARTER
square but with a mass of debris in its midst which may per¬ haps have been a tower or dwelhng-room. A second ruin of similar aspect lay close to it on some higher ground, while about a mile to the southward was a considerable and inter¬ esting group of plantations — all in a state of advanced decrepi¬ tude-comprising Umm al ’Adwa and Umm al Nussi with the raised hump of a subterranean aqueduct between the two The former must formerly have covered an area of about half a square mile to judge by the few surviving palm-stems and a number of springs, all dead except one. This area has been much encroached upon by blown sand, from whose hummocks I had a good view of the surrounding country between the always prominent Jawamir cliffs and the hog’s back hill of Dharbun in the steppe to the south. Another prominent hillock to the south-east seen from many points in the oasis is Mutrib, while the whole of the western horizon is occupied by the Summan slopes which they call Al Mahadir.i They stand up in the distance Hke a chff with occasional eminences, one group of which is named Al Uthaithiyat, being likened by the Arabs to the stones they put together to form a cooking tripod. The upland swings round in the promon¬ tory of Barq al Samr to cut off the Jabrin basin on the south and to form the southern bank of Jaub al Budu’. The bare folds of this projection are sparsely dotted with acacias,® which at all times provide food for the Badawin camels when the ordinary pastures fail, while from the upland two weU-marked valleys descend into the Juba tract., The more southerly of the two is Al Afja, a wide sandy torrent-bed with a great profusion of typical bushes like Suwwad and Shinan. In its bed is the most southerly spring of Jabrin, Ain al Niff, whose pit is choked with palms and reeds, while near by are the weUs of Hafair at the edge of the flint-strewn steppe. Only one of these weUs still lives with somewhat brackish water at a depth of two fathoms in a white chaUry sandstone soil, but it is here that the Badawin camp for the rich pastures of Afja on arriving at or departing from Jabrin.
^ Major Cheesman’s ‘ Urnm Hadiya.’
2 Though the area bears the name of jSamr bushes are of the variety known as Salam.
(a kind of acacia), its acacia
may per- id ruin of nd, while ind inter- d decrepi- i with the the two. of about Jm-stems } area has >m whose J country the hog’s Another points in lorizon is dahadir.i ccasional ^at, being r to form promon- }he south The bare acacias,^
1 camels land two ?he more rent-bed wad and f Jabrin, is, while t-strewn )mewhat e chalky 3 for the L Jabrin.
its acacia
QASR IBN DAHBASH IN JABRIN DISTRICT.
^ And it ws
z '21st to I
D. . unknown
^ facts wit]
e2 ready to
seem to I the sands mit of Dl The no: to a grou called A1 ibn Jabii springs — another : Hadi ibn are a fa'v camels fii A little about a q most wes The ep( visit, belc as centrii fragmenti already s well of th to great ^ building " the room and seem usual con and a pai badly bre being 25 ; row of w of a man the lower recesses 1 wall-trac(
QASR IBN DAHBASH IN JABRIN DISTRICT.
JABRIN
101
^ And it was here that we also camped on the night of January
Z 21st to prepare for our departure next morning into the
I . unknown south. I searched the flint strewn plain for arti-
^ facts without success, though here was a mine of material
e2 ready to the hands of the ancients. The fragments would
seem to he the broken up remnants of a flint-bed overlying the sandstone, which we were to see later in situ on the sum¬ mit of Dharbun.
The northern valley appears to be nameless and runs down to a group of four weUs in a saucer about half a mile wide called A1 Khuruq, somewhat north of the ruins of Qasr Salim ibn Jabir, to eastward of which lies a remarkable line of springs — three in a straight line at intervals of 100 paces with another near by — called Qabaliyat, the property of one Hadi ibn Shaduk. The Khuruq wells, like those of Hafair, are a favourite resort of Badawin visiting Jabrin, whose camels find plenty to eat in the Shinan of the sandy valley. A Httle way up the latter lie two ruined fort-like buildings about a quarter mile apart called Qasr ’Ah ibn Dahbash, the most westerly outpost of ancient Jabrin.
The eponymous lord of these mansions, to which we paid a visit, belongs to the Jabir clan of the Murra, which is regarded as centring on Jabrin. Among the ruins we found copious fragments of pottery and broken bangles of the kind found already so plentifully at Qasr Umm Ramad, while the only well of the outpost has been buried by the sands which swell to great waves here on both banks of the Wadi. The first building was of considerable interest as the arrangement of the rooms which occupied the interior is clearly traceable and seems to have been somewhat more elaborate than the usual court-and-keep type. The roof of course was no more, and a part of the outer wall opposite the doorway has been badly breached to a width of several feet— the whole building being 25 paces long and 20 broad. The northern wall had a row of what looked like pigeon-holes at about the height of a man’s head — perhaps to support the ceiling beams of the lower rooms if there were two storeys— with two larger recesses below them at nearly ground-level. There were wall-traces of five small rooms along the north and east
102
THE EMPTY QUARTER
sides — four of them only about 5 paces square and the fifth about 15 by 5 paces. Such a building could have been no¬ thing but a frontier guard-post, while the other ruin was clearly intended for a like purpose. It was somewhat larger, however, and consisted of a courtyard occupying the whole enclosure with a two-storeyed keep centrally placed against the western wall. In the upper storey, which dominated a fine view of the surroundings, we found a tiny chamber strewn with the debris of generations of owls’ droppings, bones of small mammals and other birds, twigs of their nests and the flufi and feathers of their young. The owl and the Hzard alone remain to tenant the haunts of men, who had obviously not disdained to share their romantic life on the fringe of the desert with their spouses.
About a mile from Umm al ’Adwa to the west lay perhaps the most attractive of all the features of Jabrin, the ruined mansion and plantation of Umm al Nussi. In the midst of the latter, between a large, more or less dry marsh bearing a thick forest of reeds and a rather derelict palm-grove with some tamarisk, lay a shallow spring-pool in an open glade strewn with the litter of trampled reeds and grasses. Just outside this riotous scene of decayed luxuriance lay the ruins, perhaps not so extensive as those of Umm Ramad but more elaborate than any other habitation of Jabrin, with bastions at intervals commanding the whole length of the various walls and an inner fort up against the northern wail and a mound in the centre of the great court which was probably a dwelling place — possibly for the women, as we again found broken bangles and beads here. Also in the courtyard there is or was a well of which now nothing re¬ mains but its sand-covered site.
With Umm Ramad to the north, Qasr ibn Dahbash and Qasr Salim ibn Jabir along the west side and Umm al Nussi on the south we have a semicircle of forts facing the inner steppe with nothing of the same kind towards the sea. It is perhaps, therefore, a fair inference that the old inhabitants of Jabrin, whoever they may have been, had nothing to fear from the seaward, which probably they had secured against foes with forts such as those of Salwa and Dhuwaiban and possibly
JABRIN
103
also of Majaiin, of which. Salih ibn ’Aziz spoke in tones of admiration as being situated near the mouth of Wadi Sahba.
Therefore, as in later Turkish times, it was against the great tribes of Central Arabia that the folk of Jabrin had to be on their guard, while it seemed to me at the time — though such a supposition is now unnecessary — that the southerly aspect of Umm al Nussi possibly indicated a source of danger in what is now the Great South Desert. Wabar, I thought on the strength of the legend above mentioned, may have been the capital of a rival southern principality or kingdom with Maqainama as its northern outpost. But we were now to proceed in that direction to disprove such a theory.
Enough therefore of the topography of Jabrin. As already stated I did not arrive at our camp over against Umm Ramad until after dark on the day following our arrival in the Juba basin. I was then surprised to hear that we had a visitor in our midst, whose acquaintance I made in due course at our frugal board. Jabir ibn Fasl, a son of Sahm of the Jarraba clan, had come up from the south, where he had been summering with various elements of the Ghafran, on receipt of the good news that the Hasa had been blessed with copious rains during the autumn. His entry into the Juba tract had coincided with ours and he had crossed the tracks of our ba'ggage-train in the neighbourhood of Umm Ithila. A glance had told him that we were no ordinary party of grazing Badawin or normal visitors. He had seen that all our camels were of the sand class and he had assumed from our numbers and the fact that we were travelling with more than ordinary impedimenta that we constituted a Govern¬ ment force bound for the south on business. His mind could envisage no reasonable business but tax-gathering or war and he had, as a matter of fact, heard from Saif ibn Tannaf the chief of the Manahil that, when he left the Hasa only a few days before ourselves, Ibn Jiluwi had been busy collecting the personnel and superintending the other necessary ar¬ rangements for such an expedition.
Saif had come up in December from the borders of Hadhra- maut for no other purpose than to make his peace with Ibn Jiluwi, whom he had offended the previous spring by keeping
104
THE EMPTY QUARTER
out of the way of a tax-collecting noission under the leader¬ ship of Zayid, which had gone down to gather the tribute due from the tribes round Shanna. To appease one who was quite capable of sending a second expedition to make good the failure of the first, Saif had brought with him a drome¬ dary of excellent pedigree as a gift for Ibn Jiluwi, but the Governor of the Hasa was for some reason not to be soothed with gifts or flattery, and the camel had been refused. Nevertheless Saif had remained in the Hasa in hopes of an improvement in the situation, and it was just at this moment that I arrived at Hufuf with the King’s letters instructing Ibn tJiluwi to send me with a suitable escort into the Empty Quarter. The Governor’s enquiries regarding the where¬ abouts of the necessary personnel alarmed Saif who, jumping to the conclusion that an expedition was being organised to punish his tribe for its former recalcitrance, decamped with¬ out ceremony to warn the desert of our coming.
The truth of his words was confirmed to Jabir by our tracks. He had come up from beyond Shanna — ^he had met Saif, I think, at Haifa or Eiqirt — with only his wife and two children and his hvestock consisting of some 40 camels. In the circumstances he had nothing to fear from us, but the nomad Arab always acts with circumspection. He had accordingly stowed away his family and property in some safe retreat and come up alone on our tracks with a Salvqi bitch in attendance to investigate our temper and intentions. On the way the dog had run down a hare which he had promptly dry -roasted over a desert fire and eaten to give biTn courage for the encounter.
He now sat with us at dinner — a youngish man of keen, frank visage and the charming courtesy of the desert-born —and he spoke little, sizing us up as he partook of our hos- pitahty. Over the coffee he thawed somewhat and we talked of the game prospects in the sands before us. There was little enough in all conscience. The drought lay unbroken on the land. He had seen no Oryx or gazelles for weeks or months
there were hares, to be sure, though few even of them. But we were welcome to the bitch, a slim, shivering, short-coated beast of gentle and affectionate temperament, who now makes
leader- ate due io was :e good drome- 3ut the ioothed efused. s of an loment ructing Empty where- imping used to d with-
by our ad met nd two ds. In )ut the le had a some Saluqi ntions. hie had ve him
f keen, rt-born ur hos- talked IS little on the nonths 1. But coated makes
FoUowec
8. (a) THE LAST HUMAN BEINGS SEEN FOE. 53 DAYS: JABIR IBN FASL OF THE MURRA WITH HIS TENT AND FAMILY AT JABRIN.
(.See page 105)
S. (b) AN OLD RAVEN’S NEST IN GHADHA BUSH BETWEEN MAQAINAMA AND
BIR FADHIL.
(See page 134)
of his c Peace b(
take it n Would t are. Wi fully out understa
an exper forth u It w; tender a: hope ai tent, day I occupa: mornin brillian £l) in i party, naked so invoked from our bumanit Empty In tl see that hands of nought ii
To face page 105.
The £mph^ b-.^ J
JABRIN
.ND
105
her appearance on the stage of our wanderings to remain with us to the end. She shared our simple meal and went off into the darkness with her master to seek out his camp.
The next afternoon, on my return from a tour of inspec¬ tion, I found Jabir installed with his family in a single booth of the poorest fashion at a stone’s throw from our camp. Followed by the bitch — ^A1 Aqfa her name— and two wild¬ eyed, completely naked children with long, brownish un¬ kempt hair, he came over to us carrying a hare — the result of his day’s hunting — and leading a young camel-colt. Peace be upon you, he murmured at me as ’Ali Jahman brought him to my tent, and welcome ! See, A1 Aqfa has brought you a hare ; may she bring you many another ! But take it not ill of us desert folk that our hospitality is meagre. Would that we had much to offer you, but you see us as we are. With an understanding glance at ’AM he ghded grace¬ fully out of the tent towards the colt, which, before I could understand what was happening, lay struggling on its side in an expert grip. The next moment its hfe-blood was gushing forth upon the sands from a wide sMt at the base of its throat.
It was late before we dined that night but the meat was tender and good with titbits of hare to flavour the meal. I hope and think that the Mttle family, sitting apart in the dark tent, was not forgotten in the joy of our feasting. Next day I was permitted to photograph the tent with its occupants posed in front of it, but it was a dismal, misty morning and the result of the operation was not very briUiant. I had secreted the princely sum of 20 dollars (about £1) in the folds of my mantle and, as I took my leave of the party, I sMpped the silver into the fist of the larger of the naked sons of the house. He ran with it to his mother who invoked charming blessings on my head. And so we parted from our last contact with the world of men to see no more of humanity till 53 days later, when we came up out of the Empty Quarter into the inhabited world at Sulaiyil.
In the keeping of God ! I said to Jabir as we parted, but see that you forget not the box. Dehver it even into the hands of Ibn Jiluwi when yoii come to the Hasa— there is nought in it but pebbles, yet I value it. Fear not, he repMed
i
105.
106 THE EMPTY QUARTER
laugMng, I will deliver it if God wills. In the keeping of God!
So we went our ways — ^we with the bitch that had hunted for him to hunt for us, and he with my box of stones and fossils. And we shall see in due course how God kept us all in the days yet to come as we turned our backs on the castle of ashes and fared forth into the great wilderness of the south.
PART 11
AL RIMAL
So spoke the flint crisp mo the Rub: municat; that at 1 thought my com; had mad rather t] ceding d Jabrin, 1 situatioi flesh to ] been ba( the resu: discomfl who hac the sole the thirl Our o a steppe taken u Summai was apt the mai: broad si the drai
CHAPTER I
MAQAINAMA
This J aba land is all of it water
But there beyond it’s the Empty Quarter.
So spoke Suwid. Jabrin lay bebind us as we marched over the flint-sprinkled steppe southward. It was a fine, cool, crisp morning with a lightly clouded sky, and we had crossed the Rubicon. Now there could be no looking back, no com¬ munication with the world. And I rejoiced at the thought that at long last I had entered the Rub' al Khah. The same thought seemed to have a sobering and depressing effect on my companions, for the sight of Jabir heading for the Hasa had made them homesick. But perhaps it was their stomachs rather than their hearts that suffered. During the two pre¬ ceding days, while I with a few companions wandered about Jabrin, the rest, or most of them, had taken advantage of the situation and a larder well stocked with the colt’s delicious flesh to play the ' traveller ’ . In other words there had again been backsliding from the fast, whose resumption now with the resumption of the march had brought back all the empty discomfort of a first day. As for myself and the few others who had remained faithful all the time — ^in some cases with the sole exception of the ' day of the fog ’ — ^we had reached the thirteenth day of the fast and the ordeal was as nothing.
Our objective was Maqainama and our marching was over a steppe country vaguely named by Salim, who had now taken up the torch of guidance from Suwid, as Ediushum Summan. The name, signifying 'noses of the Summan’, was apt enough, for the steppe ran down across our path from the main Summan upland in an easterly direction in long broad strips separated by wide sandy valleys carrying away the drainage of the whole area into the estuaries of Jaub al
109
no
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Budu’ and the great Jaub, which appeared from occasional points of vantage such as the summit of Dharbun as a broad, dark river of vegetation sweeping through the desert some miles away.
Eor some reason Salim had been sent ahead with the bag¬ gage-train which had started a little before ourselves, and both ’Ali and Suwid professed to be unable to name the various points of interest we passed. I had to protest strongly to Zayid against such treatment and, to add point to my argument, I couched my camel on a suitable eminence of sand and announced my intention of remaining there until a guide was produced. Salim was immediately brought back and given strict injunctions to remain by my side all the time. So we marched again and I found in his uncouth, primitive spirit a charming companion for my curiosity. He was the senior of the whole party in years and had a great experience of the desert behind him but he had two deep regrets. He had lost the keen sight of his prime, and could no longer spot the elusive gazelle in its arid haunts. Nor was he any more the man he had been for women. Ay, by my Lord ! said Falih the ’Arqani who rode with us and a few others discussing these serious matters, he is of the sort we call Tarbil,^ whose member rises not to its work. Is it even so, Salim ? I asked. Abu Ja’sha (Falih) talks in the air, he replied gravely, and his mind is in his stomach or below it. Yet am I not as I was, but God is bountiful. He was as good a trencherman as any of them and that was the consolation of his old-age.
Passing through low gaps in two ridges that form a bridge between the Summan slopes and the somewhat raised pro¬ montory of Barq al Samr, we came to the foot of Dharbun and halted to explore its summit on foot. The ridge scarcely exceeds 100 feet in height but its prominence in the land¬ scape from afar off served to emphasise the lowland character of its surroundings. It rose, however, quite sharply from the plain in an imposing cliff of ruddy sandstone which had been scoured out by the desert winds into deep caves protected in front by a disorderly row of fallen boulders. An owl flew
^ I think the word derives from our ‘ torpedo a word familiar enough to the Arabs during the Great War.
MAQAINAMA 111
ont of a cave objecting to the intrusion of one of our men and 'Ali went in pursuit, though he failed to get a shot. Above the sandstone lay a thick whitish layer of limestone surmounted by slabs and broken fragments of chert or flint — obviously part of a more extensive bed whose remnants lay scattered over all this section of the steppe. We found no flint implements, though many of the smaller fragments had jagged edges showing that they had been used for striking lights by modern man.
The view from the summit was extensive but amazingly monotonous. All the slight ridge features and undulations apparent on the level had merged now in a flat, featureless study in brown with the black splash of our baggage animals seemingly crawling over it in the distance ahead, where also appeared some small dark hiUocks marking the position of the Qaliba weU, our immediate objective. Afar off to the north we had our last view of the Jabrin basin, a vague, variegated film of vegetation in which the only distinguish¬ able features were the twin Jawamir ridges and the palms of Umm al Nussi. Salim pointed out to the south-east a row of low hills marking the position of Qasab, the eastern-most of the Jaub waterings, with the long coast of a ridge called Ghazala over against Birkan.
There was nothing to detain us here and we soon clambered down the rocky slope to remount our camels, which had been enjoying the varied vegetation of the sand-patches amid the steppe. Since April, 1931, there had been no rain in this part of the desert but the graceful Ohadha was already put¬ ting on its spring garments of tender green and there was Dhumran in abundance. That is good for them, said Abu Ja’sha the coarsest of our wits, for the Dhmnran is to the camel even as women are to the Arab. And verily women are the best of all that we possess. Palih had many virtues in a soul corroded by the rough life of his kind, and that struck me as a most profound remark. It came from his heart. He had a passionate love for his family, and a little daughter called Ja’sha was the apple of his eye. One could always reduce him to tenderness by playing on that memory.
112
THE EMPTY QUARTER
At mid-day, having marched about 12 miles from Hafair, we came to Qaliba, a single well of 10 fathoms in a wide bare depression in the midst of sandy downs. On the way we had seen the desert surface streaked with the winding camel-paths converging on the water, while at one side of the basin lay a series of curious dark kopjes of a hard bluish limestone, frag¬ ments of which, weathered almost to black, lay strewn about the depression. The well itself had been sunk through a similar formation, which would, therefore, seem to be of con¬ siderable depth. It certainly contrasted strangely with the calcareous monotony of the steppe, through which at this point a fairly well-marked valley runs down to and beyond the well.
The sky was of an astonishingly brilliant shade of blue spotted here and there with wisps of white cloud as we re¬ sumed our march over a slightly undulating plain of flint and gravel. A warm southern breeze blew in our faces while the hot sun, now straight in front of us, induced a torpor which would have forced us to a halt but for the lucky circumstance that our baggage was some way ahead and rather wide of our course. We gradually overhauled and converged on it, but the afternoon was far advanced by the time we were near enough to observe that the main body had decided to halt in its tracks on a sand-slope richly covered with Ohadha.
Shortly before this we had crossed the tracks of a single dromedary carrying two riders, and our experts had disputed among themselves as to the date of its passing, which was in any case sufficiently remote to be a matter of only academic interest. Our hunters, who had started off with the baggage and roamed the desert on either side of its route, brought in three hares, one of them a baby captured alive. We tethered it with string to one of my boxes only to find in the morning that A1 Aqfa had enjoyed an unexpected and unintended meal — her tracks betraying her guilt, of which there had, of course, been no eye-witness. The loss was regrettable, but we consoled ourselves with the hope of more captives with better success, while we still had our mascot — a raven wounded, not seriously, and captured alive at Ghubaiya, a small plantation in the Jabrin oasis, which Suwid had
. SUWID AND THE RAVEN BY THE PALMS AND REEDS GROWING IN SPRING-FED POOL OF GHUBAIYA IN JABRIN
DISTRICT.
To face page 112.
proudly dis planted the had been er the resultar of the gard( had christe] Suwid whic survived a < Animal 1; Painted Lai moths takei surprised to so favoural journey unt were and so but otherwi Jabrin the I in one day p the drought; creatures th of them, an( Bir ibn Jul fresh upon the hope of disappointe( The pleas brought in complete os- egg must hs certainly loi extinct in tl my father, -v and use a ri forty years many places fragments o: and others, j historic anti detected am
H
MAQAINAaiA 113
proudly displayed to us as liis own iiandiwork. He liad planted the palms in a pool belonging to a cousin, and they had been engaged in a dispute as to their respective rights in the resultant harvest. The raven had been the sole occupant of the garden on our arrival and ’Ali had secured it, while I had christened it Suwaiyid, a diminutive form of the name Suwid which itself means ‘ black Unfortunately he ordy survived a day or two when he died to become a specimen.
Animal life had been disappointing at Jabrin. To the Painted Ladies already mentioned should be added a few moths taken at night and fewer sohtary locusts. I had been surprised to see no sign of sandgrouse in a locality apparently so favourable, but we were to see none aU through the journey until we came to Sulaiyil. A few small birds there were and some ravens with a hare or two and a few Jerboas, but otherwise there was nothing but tracks. Since leaving Jabrin the latter had become more plentiful, and three hares in one day proved to be as good a bag as could be expected in the droughty desert. Pox, hyena and bustard were among the creatures that had left signs of their passage but we saw none of them, and the nearest we got to one was next day when at Bir ibn Juhaiyim we saw the pug-marks of a hyena quite fresh upon the sands. It had evidently visited the weU in the hope of finding water spilled at its side and had retired disappointed on finding the mouth closed.
The pleasantest surprise of this first day, however, was brought in by Humaid who had found the fragments of a complete ostrich egg in the sand. They all agreed that the i>mst have been laid and hatched in situ, but that was certainly long ago as the ostrich is generally believed to be extinct in these parts. I have never seen one, said ’Ali, but my father, who is now an old man though still able to carry and use a rifle, has shot them in this desert. That may be forty years ago but earfier than my earliest memories. At many places in the desert before us we were to find small fragments of the shell from comparatively recent hatchings, and others, polished by sand and wind, relics of a possibly pre¬ historic antiquity, for Dr. Lowe of the British Museum has detected among my collection a fragment that he attributes
H
114
THE EMPTY QUARTER
not to the ordinary ostrich but to its remote ancestor the Psammornis^ — perhaps the Roc itself of the Arabian saga ! A second shell, shattered but complete, was found later in the midst of the waterless desert, and who shall say for cer¬ tain that the great bird does not still survive in the remotest recesses of the wilderness ? The evidence is probably against such a chance, and it is only in Northern Arabia that the race still maintains its precarious struggle against Nature and man.
The hares provided a welcome addition to the evening’s menu, being cooked for the sunset breakfast in a sort of broth, into which my companions dipped their dates. Nothing of such delicacies is wasted and only the unextruded food in the intestines is squeezed out before the remaining contents of the stomach are thrown into the pot with the meat. The skins, of course, went into my collection, but my companions dis¬ cussed among themselves the meaning of what was nothing but unaccountable squeamishness on my part. I could touch neither the flesh nor the offals. Perhaps, said one, he holds the hare unlawful — as do some tribes of the Arabs. No, said another, he would leave the meat to us for he sees us ever hungry. Sa’dan, who reported the conversation, kept the secret to himself and in the coming weeks I was to overcome my delicacy at the bidding of hunger.
The clouds prevented any attempt at astronomical work that evening and, with everyone now fasting and no watering of camels to be thought of, we got off to a good start soon after 7 next morning. The air had the crisp coolth of late autumn in England and the wind, now in the north, made life pleasant indeed. There is something in the uncontaminated atmosphere of the desert that makes one actively conscious of health. Perhaps it is the ozone of which the German traveller, Gerhard Rohlfs, wrote^ in the ’seventies : ‘ In the open desert in January and February there was an average ozone content of 7-3 while in the oases about the same time only 4*9 was observed as the highest average. The desert is
^ See Appendix.
2 Drei Monate in der libyschen Wusste, p. 177, as translated by E. C. Wheeler.
]^L4QAINA1L4 115
marked off not only from tke oases and tke Mle Valley tlirough tie ozone richness of the air, but it equals (anyhow in winter) the most favourable ozone stations of Europe Perhaps it is this that accounts for the ' lure of the desert which cannot be cured in him that has once tasted of it.
The sandy floor of this tract soon gave way to gravel, and the baggage animals were sent straight ahead while my small party made a detour to visit the weU of ’Uj,^ which we found about five miles on from our camp in one of the valleys de¬ scending from the Summan uplands. We came suddenly upon a basin of dirty, ruffled gypsum about half a mile across, which recalled the Jifadir of Jabrin and looked almost like the bleached remains of an ancient settlement, although we found no remains of actual buildings. This impression was, however, enchanced by the discovery of plentiful relics of man similar to those of Jabrin — fragments of household pottery and bangles and rough flints used for fire-hghting. Perhaps the princes of Jabrin had come out here with their families to enjoy the better hunting of those days and had pitched their tents about the single well now completely buried by sand. Salim had not heard of its being actually used by the Badawin these many years, but he had ap¬ parently camped on it himself in a bygone age when, so far as he could remember, water was to be found in it at 15 or 16 fathoms. The supply was, however, intermittent and de¬ pendent on the seasonal rains, and the modern Badawin have no longer the energy to dig to such depths on a sporting chance. The long drought of recent times has sapped both their vigour and their optimism.
All round the gypseous circle extended in dull monotone a vast featureless gravel plain which was at length succeeded by a pleasant, cheerful tract of sandy downs with a rich covering of GhadJia, in which ’Ali stalked and shot a hare. Its colouring of light chestnut struck me as being something different from the specimens we had already secured, and I insisted on its being carried in a leather water-bucket to prevent unnecessary elongation by the ordinary process of
^ CJ. Burton’s Arabiayi Nights where reference is made in the tale of ’Abdullah ibn Fazil to a city named ’Auj.
116
THE EMPTY QUARTER
suspending it head downwards by the Mnd legs. Unfor¬ tunately my solicitude ruined the specimen, which was found on arrival in camp to have been so soaked in a pool of its own exuded blood that the skin was not worth preserving.
A vast bare shingle plain with very dry and scanty scrub succeeded the sands. On it we found the typical camel-paths leading forward to the water, while afar ojS on the left began to appear a long line of lofty orange dunes — the first of the vast sands of the great desert ! About mid-afternoon we came to them or rather to a firm, undulating sandy plain projecting from them towards the Summan ; and from here onwards to Maqainama itself we marched, now on one and now on the other, along the sinuous boundary between the sands and the steppe. Here and there we passed by patches of exposed gypsum suggesting that the desert floor — once doubtless the bed of the sea — lay very close beneath the sur¬ face of these sands. Salih had a shot at a raven and missed it, while I had better sport among some brightly coloured Scarab beetles winging among or settled on the bushes. At the base of one of the latter I noticed a splash of hquid crim¬ son. It is water, said Salih, the water of dew washing the bark of the bush. It looked to me like a resinous exudation similar to the stuff which, according to Dr. Yahuda, the Israehtes of the Exodus called Mav?- ' because they knew not what it was ' . We call it Manna, but Salih said Ma'n, mean¬ ing water.
By now we had done a satisfactory day’s labour and all thoughts centred on the idea of camping when suddenly we came upon four or five patches of exposed gypsum, in the midst of which lay the well of Bir ibn Juhaiyim. All I saw was a short wooden stake protruding from a shallow saucer of sand. But no sooner were we dismounted and the cooks at work against sunset than ’Ali and some others initiated me into one of the common customs of the great sands. The well was not buried but protected with a covering of wattle and skins over its mouth. There was a sufficient thickness of blown sand over the cover to show what would have hap-
^ Dr. Yahuda interprets this as an Egyptian word meaning ‘ we do not know used currently in the speech of the Hebrews.
117
MAQAINAMA
pened to the well if left to its fate. And its depth as measured by me was 80 feet — 16 or 17 fathoms according to the Arab reckoning. Out of curiosity I measured the span between the finger tips of the outstretched arms of Abu Ja’sha as t3rpical of the normal in our party. It was exactly 5 feet 6 inches, from w^hich I reckoned that the Arab fathom^ may be taken as meaning about five feet. To my intense surprise the camels, turned out to graze, made straight for the well to congregate round it patiently while the men opened it up. And then, as the bucket went down and up to pour out the liquid into the metal tray which was also our dinner dish, they fought for the water, drinking greedily though they had been fuUy watered only 36 hours before at Hafair. Their aston¬ ishing thirst had been engendered by the salinity of the bitter^ pastures on the way. I commented on the phenomenon as suggesting that the prospect of long, waterless marches before us portended trouble with the camels. But wait, replied ’Ali, until they come to the Abal and Hadh of A1 Rimal — it will be better there and they will go many days without water, but these bitter herbs make them thirsty.
My companions had wanted to halt short of the well and there was some grumbling at my insistence on camping actually on it for the barren delight of making my astrono¬ mical observations on the exact spot. Admittedly the pas¬ turage near the well was not as good as it had been further back, but the animals had been cropping etc., all day as they marched, while the morrow’s march to Maqainama would be a very short one and the following day we might halt, as I would require as much time as possible to study the geology and antiquities of the place. So we would gain on the swings what we might have lost on the romidabouts. But my companions had become querulous and fretful as the ordeal of fasting and marching ever deeper into the unknown lengthened out.
The well lay in a short length of valley half obscured by an
^ Qama or ; Humaid’s span, however, was 6 feet and ’Abdul Hallman’s 5 feet inches.
2 Collectively known as Hamudh and comprising Ghadha, Dhumran, ^Arrad, Shinan and Suwwad,
118
THE EMPTY QUARTER
elbow of the great sands thrust against the flank of Summar, proper now close by. Next morning the sands fell back round a shoulder of the steppe dotted with low kopjes and ridges of chalky sandstone overflowing from the uplands. Across this we started before 8 a.m. until we came to a hillock at it<5 southern edge from which we looked out on a long wedaT shaped gravel plain with the sands on the left and the rockv upland on the right converging towards a distant apex where sand and steppe merged in a confused struggle for the mastery round the well of Maqainama itself. The gravel comdor was longer than it seemed, scored with camel-paths leading to the weU but otherwise very similar in character to the gravel patches of Jafura and elsewhere. My imagination worked apace as we approached the object of my quest and my companions had a fleeting attack of nerves at the sight of some bushes dancing in the distant mirage — for all the world hke mounted men jogging along towards us. The gravel plain narrowed to a wasp-waist, beyond which it bulged out again into an oval strip of mixed gravel and sand with dunes on this side and that, those on the right and ahead actually imping- mg on and partly burying the border fringe of the Summan Wit^n this ring a low ridge rose some 10 or 20 feet out of the plain with flattened top. ’AH and Sahh trotted for- ^rd from my side and dismounted at the foot of the barrow. We nad reached Maqainama !
But what went ye forth for to see ? A well buried in the sand!
ell, well, well ! I thought, involuntarily remembering the snare of a childish riddle. For eight years I had been intrigued by a name and a problem. And was this all that there was to it ? Look, we have arrived, said ’Ali, as if ex- pec mg an immediate and munificent reward. Is this all ^ I asked. There is nought but this, he repHed. There is the weU before you. Round it the sand and grit mixed with countless generations of camehdung to form a grassless turf absolutely :^ocen o vegetation except a few bushes of unattractive 8Unan. The bare sands and the bare steppe closed round us and we seemed to camp in an abomination of desolation, httered far and wide with date stones from Jabrin, the residue 01 Joadawin meals.
To face page 1 18.
My compi Maqainama appointmen unknown on kad then br sojourn in t which sound not only wt man but I ] name in the Cheesman^ ^ mysterious too good no‘ probing it tc that of Umn a piece of g] tence of Jabrin ’ wit ‘ in years oi have been d Cheesman f The two wei tradition, w plausible e^ wrote the n used by th enough reas produced gi man might 1 of transpori The weakes' that Magan — a step ne^ meaning ' t] Cheesman’s remote in t Thomas ha^ Jabrin and
MAQAINAMA 119
My companions had certainly never spoken but soberly of Maqainama and were in no way responsible for the dis¬ appointment of my illusions. Eight years ago the well was unknown outside the domains of the Murra. Major Cheesman had then brought back the rumour of its existence from his sojourn in Jabrin. I had been sceptical of the very name, which sounded strange for Arabia, but in that I was wrong for not only was the word correctly reported by Major Chees¬ man but I have since discovered another well of the same name in the Summan north-eastward of the Hasa. Major Cheesman^ had, however, constructed a legend round this mysterious watering in the great desert which seemed at least too good not to be true, and I had pitched high my hopes of probing it to its foundations. At or near a dry well (possibly that of Timm al Ramad itself) south of Jawamir he had found a piece of granite, and from Sahh he had heard of the exis¬ tence of Maqainama ' six days’ march from the south of Jabrin ’ with ' some very deep wells ’ visited by the Murra ‘ in years of exceptional rain ’. The wells were reported to have been dug by the Bani Hilal, while for the granite Major Cheesman found the nearest match as far afield as Assuan. The two were accordingly linked up by reference to Sumerian tradition, which produced the name of Magan to suggest a plausible explanation of Maqainama (or Magainma as he wrote the name). And Magan was the source of the diorite used by the Sumerians in making their statues — a good enough reason in all conscience for supposing that it also produced granite, of which the piece found by Major Chees¬ man might have been a fragment chipped off a block in course of transportation via Jabrin to Gudea’s capital at Lag ash. The weakest point in the chain of the argument was the fact that Magan (or Maganna as its proper name might have been — a step nearer to the strange Magainma) was interpreted as meaning ' the place where boats go to That shook Major Cheesman’s confidence in its identification with a spot so far remote in the middle of the desert but, neither he nor Mr. Thomas having apparently realised the estuary character of Jabrin and the Jiban, it had fallen to me to discover that at
^ In Unknown Arahiaj pp. 266-7, 297, 308, 342, and 345.
120 THE EMPTY QUARTER
one time in the past Maqainama itself must have been actu¬ ally on or very near the sea.
Such in brief was the problem as posed by Major Cheesman for future investigation. It remained for me to discover the ruins and quarries of ancient Magan and I now stood on the very spot in which I had hoped to find them. On the way thither I had made, at secondhand, the, at least interesting, discovery that somewhere near the sea coast at the mouth of Wadi Sahba there was a district called Majann (in full Majannu, also pronounced Magann or Mayann and actually shown in Major Cheesman’s map as Mijan), in which Sahh and Humaid reported the existence of extensive ancient ruins. Major Cheesman had indeed suggested that the same name might well have been used by the ancients for both the seaport and the inland capital on which it depended. He had not, however, connected Mijan and Maqainama as he might have done, but his theory easily stood the test of the new light I could throw on the problem, while I could actually envisage an arm of the sea or estuary linking the two places.
Another discovery I had made in the course of our march through Jafura and Jabrin to this point was more disturbing. Fragments of granite were by no means as rare as might have been supposed. The frequent gravel patches of the desert were full of them, worn and polished by wind or water ; by no stretch of the imagination could it be postulated that all such fragments had dropped from quarried blocks in course of transportation. And, whether their presence was due to the action of rivers or floods flowing across Arabia or to release by denudation from an underlying conglomerate as had been suggested by Mr. W. Campbell Smith^ of the British Museum — ^both alternatives amount after all to much the same thing — I was already aware that the greater part of Western Arabia represented a core of granite and igneous rocks which must obviously have been the ultimate source of the fragments in question.^
Major Cheesman’s piece of granite had thus lost its special significance, but there was still no reason to suppose that there might not be granite and diorite quarries at Maqainama
^ Jn Unknown Arabia, pp. 423-4. ^ See x4ppendix.
EIAQAINMIA 121
if that spot was to be equated with ancient Maganna. It was, therefore, disappointing to find at first sight nothing suggesting the existence of any source of rocks suitable for the attention of sculptors though, undaunted by an initial reverse of this kind, I spent the period of our sojourn at the well in scouring the Summan uplands to a depth and breadth of several miles in search of enhghtenment. The Summan in this neighbourhood, as also at many points within my ken further north, is of a whitish sandy limestone overl3/ing sandstone, and the possibihty of its containing anything in the nature of granite must, I think, be dismissed from our minds.
In a bushy depression of the Summan, a httle way off the broad camel-tracks — doubtless partly an old caravan-route between Maqainama and the Aflaj province and partly the pathways of grazing camels going to and from the water I found a single, dehghtful bronze arrow-head of ancient man. But otherwise there was no trace whatever an3rwhere of the human handiwork of antiquity — not even the sherds and bangles of Jabrin and ’Uj— to support the supposition that Maqainama might formerly have been the site of a town or city or even village. I came therefore to the conclusion that it never was, never could have been more than it is to-day a desert well.
Its great depth — I found by measurement that the dis¬ tance from the mouth to the water-level was no less than 171 feet (33 fathoms according to local reckoning) — ^pre¬ cluded the idea that it might be the work of modem or even comparatively recent Badawin. It was obviously dug by the representatives of a more serious civilisation. The arrow¬ head, fired from an ancient bow perchance at a gazelle, proved conclusively that ancient man had frequented these parts. And the caravan-tracks to the Aflaj were evidently part of an old route which, hnked up in due course with the deep well of Bir Fadhil to the east, suggested to my mind an ancient east-west trade route running from Gerrha or Majann on the Persian Gulf to the important mart of Mecca.
I had thus to my own satisfaction placed the problem of Maqainama in something like a proper perspective. Salih
122
THE EMPTY QUARTER
had told Major Cheesman that the water-supply here was in¬ termittent and dependent on the seasonal rains, but that is incorrect. The water of the single well — and there is only one not several — is inexhaustible and the camping of the Badawin around it depends not on the water itself but on the state of the neighbouring pastures ; for the nomads only con¬ gregate where there are pastures, and it matters Uttle to them whether there is water or not for, with good fresh grazing, they and their camels can go for months without it. Of re¬ cent years, however, the district round Maqainama has suffered from a steady drought, and the well has only been used by visitors of passage like ourselves or raiding-parties or Badawin travelling with their families and camels between the southern and northern pastures. On one point my com¬ panions were in entire agreement with Major Cheesman’s informant. The water of Maqainama, like that of Bir Fadhil, is considered excellent and as good as any in the desert — it is sweet to the taste and beneficial to the bowels of humanity in strong contrast with the violent and foul purge-water of the southern sands. I did not taste it myself except in tea, coffee and cooked food, but the reputation of the water was such that I did not omit to bring home a specimen for analysis.
No sooner had we settled down in camp than my com¬ panions repaired to the well-mouth and worked at it amain until, in about 15 to 20 minutes, they had removed first the overlying sand and then the covering^ of skins and rafters which, as at Bir ibn Juhaiyim and elsewhere, serves to pro¬ tect the deep shaft from suffocation. The bucket attached to a long rope, always carried by nomads and travellers where deep wells may be encountered, was then harnessed to a camel and lowered to the water. With a little expert dang¬ ling it filled, and the camel was ridden or led down the long incline of the well-mound dragging the rope over a pulley set up on a wooden bracket. As the water came to the surface it was poured out into our great dish for the waiting camels. Then our skins were filled, and so the drawing and drinking went on during the 48 hours of our sojourn, when the cover¬ ing was replaced as carefully as possible to keep the well intact
Such, covered wells are known as Mutahbaq.
AND SKINS TO PROTECT IT FROM SAND.
for the next < wells open to and even the section of A1 an enemy. ( replaced in t To avoid e water I dela^ departure, ' needs, indue with a bath, surface. T1 nately I did i were from th wax, labelled a specimen € qainama.
It was du Anglo-Persia official repoi ' Sample 1 This samp Hydrog Free an Albumi] Total sc Total ii 100,0 Wanklyn < 0*0082 parts On this in mented : ' I saline amme any doubt, well and nc stage betwe< the elaborat the water w to know thai
■ MAQAINAMA 123
for the next comer. A hostile raiding party might leave such wells open to spite the home tribe or even fill it in with sand ; and even the owners (Hamad ibn Nautan of the Mqhn sub¬ section of A1 Jabir) might do the same to deny its water to an enemy. Otherwise the desert rule requires the cover to be replaced in the common weal.
To avoid all possibility of drawing from stagnant surface water I delayed taking my specimen until the morning of our departure. The well had been tapped continuously for our needs, including bathing though I had not indulged myself with a bath. The bucket was lowered, filled and raised to the surface. The water came up quite tepid though unfortu¬ nately I did not take its temperature, and I filled a bottle as it were from the fountain-head. I sealed the cork carefully with wax, labelled it and brought away what seemed to me as pure a specimen as possible of the excellent sweet water of Ma- qainama.
It was duly analysed in the Research Laboratory of the Anglo-Persian Oil Company, Limited, at Sunbury ; and the official report on it was as follows :
' Sample labelled Maqainama.
This sample is highly polluted with sewage.
Hydrogen sulphide, 9 parts in 100,000
Free and saline ammonia, 14 parts in 100,000.
Albuminoid ammonia, 5 parts in 100,000.
Total soHds (dried at 100° C.), 26 parts in 100,000.
Total inorganic sohds (dried at red heat), 10 parts in 100,000.
Wanklyn condemns a drinking water containing more than 0-0082 parts in 100,000 of albuminoid ammonia.’
On this interesting report my friend Dr. G. M. Lees com¬ mented : ^ The presence of albuminoid ammonia and free and saline ammonia shows dilution with camels’ urine without any doubt. Are you sure that it was a clean sample from the well and not via a drinking trough or any intermediate stage between well and bottle % ’ I have already explained the elaborate precautions I took to get a genuine specimen of the water which is considered so excellent. It is astonishing to know that the albuminoid ammonia content of Maqainama
124
THE EMPTY QUARTER
water is more than 600 times in excess of the potable pro¬ portion. The conflict between European science and Arabian practice is manifest, but quot homines tot sententiae! One can scarcely perhaps expect the West to appreciate the virtues of camel urine tempered by countless generations of seepage through sandstone rock.
The halt at Maqainama occasioned further widespread backsliding from the rigours of the fast coinciding with the fortunate discovery that one of our camels had reached the end of its working tether. What was wrong with it I never knew but they sought my approval for its slaughter. That, I replied, is a matter for the Amir to decide. And Zayid was bored with the fasting. So the animal was couched and slain on January 24th, the first casualty of our expedition and that somewhat fortuitous. There was, therefore, meat in the camp these days and for many days thereafter, for the residue was salted by Zaid the cook, who daily dished out suitable portions for our meals until the last of the animal was put away into human receptacles about three weeks later. We took advantage of a complete day’s halt at Maqainama to send the camels out to the Summan pastures under a small guard, which was reinforced by my small party when I rode out to inspect the country along the Aflaj route. Those who were not fasting remained behind to look after the camp. The country was a bare broken upland, which from the paral¬ lel of Maqainama extends south about 30 miles or more to the fringe of the great gravel plain of Abu Bahr which, as will be shown in detail later, carries the central steppe down to the sands of the far south. Here and there the barrenness of the Summan is relieved by shallow saucers or depressions fairly well covered with vegetation and I counted as many as ten different kinds of desert plants.^ In an acacia bush we found the old nest of a raven, and in one of the depressions a Jerboa was dug out of its burrow, while a few small birds were seen. Otherwise, apart from the arrow-head^ and a few lizards, there was Httle enough of interest.
^ Salam, Hadh^ Nussi, JFani, Hithra^ Sa'dan, Ramram, Kurraish, Duraima, Qarnua — see Appendix.
^ I named the depression in which I found this relic Raudhat al Rumh (the coomb of the spear).
IMAQAINAMA 125
The Journey to Aflaj takes four days from Maqainama, the first two being spent in the Summan and the third in the sands of the Dahna, beyond which they traverse the gravel plain of Haraisan. In the latter is the only watering of the route, the well of Jabaliya, four fathoms to water when there is any, for it is a Mishash or waterhole dependent on the rains. For some years now it has been reckoned dead. From Maq¬ ainama to Sulaiyil by the direct desert route avoiding the Aflaj is 12 days, but fast camels have been known to do the Journey in 8 days. This route is entirely waterless and lies for the most part in the sands until the neighbourhood of Sulaiyil is reached. Sometimes water is found in the rock- pools of Makiniya, while the oasis of Hamam near the end of the Journey is not far from the direct line. Salih claimed to have done the Journey from Abu Dhabi to the Hasa (some 400 miles) in 6 days, but such a record cannot be regarded as authentic. The man was not above exaggerating his achieve¬ ments to add to their picturesqueness. The route from Jabrin to the Aflaj direct is known as Darb al Falaji, crossing the Summan and Dahna in two days to the watering of Abu Humaidh beyond the latter, whence one day brings the traveller to the Maqainama road at Jabahya.
On the way back from our outing in the Summan Salim had a bad fit of nose-bleeding but seemed none the worse for it in the end. The camels came in from the pastures inde¬ pendently of us and, when I was summoned to dinner, I was surprised to find all my companions armed to the teeth. It was a wonderful scene under the full-moon that night, nearly a score of hardened desert veterans gathered round our piled- up tray of rice and meat, half-squatting, half-kneehng, rifles in hand and bandoliers at waist. With their free right hands they ladled the food into their mouths, while their senses were taut. What news ? I asked ; have you seen tracks ? No, they replied, but as we came homeward at sunset and halted for the prayer, ’AH smelt the smoke of a camp-fire. It may be but grazing Badu, or it may be raiders seeking the water. XJifiess they are many they will not trouble us ^but caution is better.
I had not tfil then reaHsed that a highly developed sense of
126
THE EMPTY QUARTER
smell was among the virtues of the desert and it was only ’Ali who had sensed the smoke. Yet I had no doubt that he had done so, and in due course we had reason to know that we had not been alone in the desert that night. The visitors had doubtless noticed our occupation of the water and had not been strong enough to claim their turn. So they had given us a wide berth to march on till Fate placed the camels of our friend, Jabir ibn Fasl, at their mercy. They were a small party of brigands from Hajran seeking prey to devour.
It was an anxious and watchful party that gathered round our camp-fire for supper before dawn, the traditional hour in Arabia for the inception of mihtary operations. And there was joy when the sun rose to warm cold feet. We loaded up and marched away from Maqainama without regret, but with the first serious item of our programme duly accomplished. The next objective was Wabar.
CHAPTER II
rOEGOTTEN RIVERS
‘ From Maqainama onwards there is nought more but the Rub' al Khali until you come to the settlements. There is water to the right of it and water to the left of it, but that is the Rub' al Khali.’
We had, as I reckoned, entered the Great South Desert when we passed out of the Juba basin at Hafair. Now we were properly embarked on the sands as we set our course roughly eastward from Maqainama for Bir Eadhil. And Suwid swept his arm comprehensively round to south and west as he imparted to me the information with which I have opened this chapter.
I have no doubt whatever in my own mind that, while the Arabs in general know and use the term ' Rub‘ al Elhali ’ to indicate the vast, vague, unknown wilderness of the Great South Desert extending between Jabrin and the Hadhramaut in one direction and between Oman and Najran in the other, the actual denizens of the area — the Badawin tribes — are perfectly familiar with the term and use it in two senses, the one more comprehensive and vague than the other but both definitely geographical in import and contrasting with such descriptive terms as Madhma^ (land of thirst) and MahmaV- (bare region).
Apart from the fact that the Badawin have a limited application of the term — this was perhaps not appreciated before — as well as its common and wider connotation, my view as here stated accords with the traditional acceptation of the name ' Rub' al Khali ’ both in Arabia and beyond its
^ These terms, as applied to the Empty Quarter and similar wastes, are more often used in the plural forms M^adhami and 2£ahci7nil, but excep¬ tions are frequent and the latter word is also used geographically, e.gf. Mahmdl (a district in Central Najd), Haml (part of Jafura) and Jk^ahamil (desert between Wadi Bawasir and Bisha).
128
THE EMPTY QUARTER
borders until less than a decade ago. The late Br. Hogarth, one of the greatest European authorities on the exploration and geography of Arabia, would probably have been sur¬ prised at the suggestion of any other interpretation. And Sir Percy Cox, who spent more than a generation of dis¬ tinguished service at Masqat and other places in the Persian Gulf and studied the project of penetrating into the Great Desert himself, has informed me that in his opinion the term was well understood by the Arabs of his experience as apply¬ ing to the whole of the Great South Desert.
With such support behind a long tradition, sanctified by literary and classical usage through many centuries, it would perhaps be unnecessary to labour the matter further. But both Major Cheesman and Mr. Bertram Thomas have suc¬ cessively within the past few years suggested that the honourable term ^ Rub' al Khali whose traditional Enghsh translation of ' the Empty Quarter ’ I have taken as the title of my work, is no more than a chimaera of ' ancient writers ’ and geographical ' text-books Their views are entitled to consideration, and I made it my business during these months of wandering to ascertain the practice of the desert by study¬ ing and collating the conversational references of my com¬ panions and others to the scene of our activities.
Major Cheesman^ deals with the matter somewhat briefly and dogmatically. In one passage he refers to ' the Great South Desert of Arabia, often marked on maps as Ruba al Khali, or more correctly the southern half as " Ahqaf ’’ and the northern as " Al Rimal Elsewhere he mentions ' the Great South Desert, the Al Rimal (or Ruba al Khali of ancient writers) ’ and, in a footnote, says : ' In the Hasa the northern part of the Great South Desert is spoken of as Al Rimal, and the southern as Ahqaf, and Ruba al Khali is not even understood.’
Mr. Thomas^ in a chapter devoted to ' A Geographical Note on the Rub' al Khali ’, says : ' The entire area of South¬ east Arabia . . . is . . . marked on our maps as Rub' al Khali. . . . The meaning is sufficiently literal to have an application,
^ In Unknown Arabia, pp. 228 and 310.
2 Arabia Felix, pp. ISO et seq ; also pp. 262 et seq.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
129
and the term is one that is familiar to literate Arabs elsewhere who have learned geography from text-books, but the tribes who live in the Rub‘ al Khali neither use the term nor under¬ stand it in its geographical sense.’ He does not so much as mention the name 'Ahqaf’, and he does not discuss the connotation of the term ' Al Rimal though he uses it as in¬ dicating the whole of the great sands through which he passed up to Bunaiyan and the waterless desert to westward of his route. Like Major Cheesman, he boldly and uncom¬ promisingly substitutes it for ^ Rub‘ al Khali which is expunged from the map of Arabia in the most cavalierly fashion. Mr. Thomas does however use the latter term quite freely for convenience and as the title of his map.
Such then is the evidence for the prosecution. Exactness of geographical nomenclature is not, of course, to be expected of the Badawin, but they do know what they are talking about and they care little whether one term, when written upon paper, overlaps another when similarly put to un¬ necessary uses, while they know that the features represented by such terms do in fact overlap and mingle in situ. The term Sawahib for instance, and the long parallel dune-ranges which it is used to indicate, inevitably encroach not only on Rub' al Khali (in the narrower sense which I shall shortly discuss) but on the southern part of Al Rimal and swallows up the whole of Al Khiran. Similarly the Tuwal or deep well area to the north bestrides part of Al Rimal and part of Summan, while the Summan itself is partly Rub' al KKali and partly not.
When I went down to Wadi Dawasir in 1918, skirting the northern fringe of the Empty Quarter and often discussing its contents and character, my companions, among whom was a well-known representative of the Murra,^ used the term ' Rub' al EKaU ’ quite freely and intelligently. And now, while plans were being made for my expedition, that was the term used both by the King and his Ministers and others concerned. It was used by Ibn Jiluwi. Sa’dan shivered at the very sound of it ; and the Qusaibi brothers and other friends of mine in the Hasa thought I was mad to venture
^ Jabir ibn Faraj of the Buhaih., since dead.
130
THE EMPTY QUARTER
into a tract whose name was so forbidding. So far at any rate Rub' al Khali was the commonest name in men’s mouths, while in the Hasa the more intelligent people understood quite well the term ‘ Al Rimal ’ as used by the Badawin roam¬ ing the great desert with their cattle. At starting, therefore, my impression was that the generality of folk in the Hasa used the terms ‘ Al Rimal ’ and ‘ Rub' al Khali ’ as synony¬ mous, while elsewhere only the latter term was used of the whole area.
Nevertheless I maintained an open mind on the subject and was more interested to know how the Badawin them¬ selves named the scene of our intended investigations. And I certainly had a sufficiently representative collection of men to throw light on the matter — six of the Murra from three different sections, two men representing different clans of the Ms-nfl-sir and three men from two different sections of the 'Ajman, to say nothing of Zayid and Ibn Ma’addi, both with considerable and the former with very considerable experi¬ ence of the Great Desert.
So far as possible, and until I had formed a fair idea of their actual usage of the various terms of desert topography, I avoided anything in the nature of leading questions and simply jotted down in my notebook at the time any sentences in the conversations of my companions that struck me as interesting on any topic whatsoever. As I used my notebook incessantly all the time while riding and at our halts they did not know that I was recording their obiter dicta and were cer¬ tainly not concerned to choose their language. The terms ' Al Rami ’ (the sand) , ' Al Ramla ’ (the sand region) , and ' Al Rimal ’ (the sands) occurred frequently in their conversation and I could not but notice that people like ' Ali Jahman, Salim, Sahh, and others used these terms as of a famihar region of which they had no feeling of horror. It was, how¬ ever, common knowledge at an early stage of our proceedings that our programme included a march from Sharma or the Hadhramaut to Sulaiyil ; and the term ' Rub' al Khali ’ was at least as frequently on their hps as ' Al Ramla ’ , which was certainly more often used than ' Al Rimal either generally of the whole area of ‘ the sands ’ as understood by them or
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
131
iy
IS,
)d
n-
•e,
sa
y-
he
5Ct
oa-
ad
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he
ith
5ri-
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^y.
M
ces
as
)ok
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ler-
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A1
ion
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3W-
ngs
the
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with the addition of a local name to specify the particular sand region intended, e.g, Ramla Maqainama, Ramla Shanna, etc.
What then was the distinction they intended to make between ' the sands ’ and ' the Empty Quarter ’ seeing that, so far as I knew, the whole area in question was an ocean of sand ? It was a distinction of two quite definite facets — on the one hand pastures and on the other water. And it soon became evident that in fact the various pasture regions generally bore the names of the wells on which the Badawin camped, Ramla this and Ramla that. Sanam was an excep¬ tion but was none the less a grazing area vdth w^ells, and there are other exceptions, but in general the rule held and every well had its Hadh belt or KMlla belt or some other kind of belt. But Qa’amiyat was just Qa’amiyat, Hawaya Hawaya and Shuwaikila Shuwaikila (each divided up into plant zones, of course), and those tracts and others were always referred to as being districts of Rub' al Khali.
In seasons of good rain the Badawin might take their cattle to pasture in the waterless tracts, but normally they only frequent the water-bearing areas where they could themselves settle on the wells while their camels sought herbs to graze on in the neighbourhood. And such areas of normal occupation are grouped together as a whole under the terms 'Al Ramla’ or 'Al Rimal’. The waterless tract is the Empty Quarter par excellence and I have placed at the head of this and other chapters typical obiter dicta of Suwid and others, which emphasise the distinction that troubled them.
’Ali Jahman had been visibly shocked when I asked him about Shuwaikila. I have been into Qa’amiyat, he had said, and into Hawaya to hunt the Oryx ; but all that and Shu¬ waikila and beyond are of Rub' al Khali. Ask Suwid of them or Salim for they are of Dinman. We others only go into it for the Oryx-shooting. And later, when we were three or four days out from Shanna in the waterless waste, Farraj said : This is what they name Rub' al EihalL — the land of the Oryx. And Salim, as he rode with me on the last lap of our journey, was to say : This is the Rub' al Klhah ; no
132 THE EMPTY QUARTER
man comes hither ever. But perhaps the most epigrammatic of all their utterances on the subject ■was that of Suwid, which I have placed at the opening of the chapter on the ‘ Waterless
That the Badawin of the Great Desert the Manasir and Murra between them span the whole breadth of its thousand miles from the Oman frontier to Najran— know and use the term ‘ Rub' al Khali ’ admits of no doubt whatever. Some of the border tribes mentioned by Mr. Thomas may not use the term freely as they probably have active cognisance only of the section to which the term ‘ Al Ramla ’ apphes, yet I cannot but doubt their wholesale ignorance of the name and its special significance. But God knows best, as the Arabs would say in such case, and I have no hesitation in restoimg to the Great South Desert of Arabia the name by which it has been known to the Arabs before and since Shahrazad re¬ lated to King Shahriyar the tale of the cobbler Ma ruf, who was transported by supernatural agency into the midst of the Rub‘ al Kharab^ and anticipated my o-wm discovery of
^I^-would state the fiinal result of my researches into the matter in the following formula. The whole of the Great South Desert is Rub' al Khali in contrast with the inhabited world. A great part of it, commonly frequented by pastoral nomads and containing countless wells, is known to them and their nearer neighbours as Al Ramla or Al Rimal, -while a part of the latter containing only briny wells is a^in sub¬ divided Jfiom it under the name of Al Khiran and another section with more palatable water is Sanam, another Tu-wal and so forth. What remains after subtraction of the waterful area is Rub' al Khah par excellence, the waterless desert, the Empty Quarter— empty even by the reckoning of the Bada¬ win. The name ‘ Ahqaf common enough in hterature, 1 have never heard but on the hps of pedants and pedagogues. It may perhaps be kno-wn and used by the Hadhxamaut Arabs, of whom I have no experience.
I have dealt at some length with an important aspect of a great problem and must return to our marching through the
1 Burton rightly equates this name with the commoner Bub‘ al Khali.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
133
sandy downs of Ramla Maqainama. A fair wind blew upon ns from the south and the gap gradually widened between ns and the long, dark line of the Suminan until it disappeared from our view and left us engulfed in an ocean of sand. It was a gentle, pleasant country somewhat similar to Jafura, now bare and now fairly thickly dotted with vegetation, mostly GJiadha but with patches of Hadh and other herbs. My companions seemed limp and lifeless after the richness of their feasting, and the baggage camels lagged behind. After little more than two hours’ marching we found some fair pasture and halted for nearly an hour to let them come up. I found plenty to interest me — plants, insects and the like — but the slowness of our march annoyed me and, when we resumed, I insisted on walking. I found no difficulty in keeping pace with the baggage animals and amused myself with a little time-keeping, which showed that I w^as pro¬ gressing at the rate of about 50 inches per second — rather less than three miles an hour. It was pleasant enough walk¬ ing over the sand, but we came to a gravel plain about two miles wide like a broad ribbon running across the sands from south to north. My feet felt the difference at once and even the camels trod gingerly. My companions liked not my walking, which was a silent reproach to themselves, and about halfway across I yielded to their entreaties and the argument of my bare feet to mount. For a while I kept to the snail’s pace of the baggage until there was a general speeding up, whereupon I went forward with some others.
Afar off they named to me a thick clump of perhaps a dozen Ghadha bushes as Ghadhawat ibn Huqai, called thus after a Marri who had perchance slept there or fought or lost a camel. At 3 p.m. we halted for prayers, and at 5 we camped for the night near the eastern extremity of Ramla Maqainama overlooking another broad gravel strip — ^Hidba Buraika.
The only incident of the march had been the sighting of a bustard which was shot at and missed. I had collected some Mantids and there were some moths^ at my light in the even-
^ Of 24 species of motlis coUected by me in the Rub* al Khali, no fewer than 16 are provisionally regarded as new to science. See Appendix.
134 THE EMPTY QUARTER
ing. A very disagreeable dnst-laden north wind arose during the early hours and covered everything with sand. Abu Ja’sha came and pegged down my tent-ropes in case of acci¬ dents, but I slept peacefully enough, vaguely dreaming of Wadi Dawasir traversing a vast gravel flat strewn with the rehcs of an ancient civilisation.
Next morning the sky was clouded and the air cold and clammy. Everything was grimed with sand and the sun was feeble in the extreme. We had done about 25 miles the first day and this day we did as much, traversing Buraika (over the gravel to sands), Hawiya (over sands with much Ghadha to gravel) and finally into the pastures of Madara where we camped before 4 p.m. as the atmosphere, now warm and still, had induced somnolence all round. Salim had stalked a hare unsuccessfully while we halted to watch him, and the G*Aad/ia-covered sands had 3delded a host of black beetles with golden bands upon their shoulders. Also the Saluqi bitch had chased a fox without result over the gravel strip, which struck me as an ideal landing ground for aeroplanes. A little Oryx dung had been seen but there were no traces of the animal’s recent passage.
Camel-paths running south and north in the Buraika gravel were pointed out as leading to the Qasab watering, but ’Ali declared that there had been no rain in this area for seven or eight years. Yet there seemed to be a good deal for camels to eat, rather dry but not dead. Far ofE to the south¬ east appeared the dune-range of ’Arq al Ghanam, beyond which, they said, lay similar ranges^ a day’s journey away or more. Just before reaching camp we passed an old, deserted raven’s nest in the fork of a Ghadha bush.
On the third day (January 28th) out from Maqainama we reached Bir Fadhil after quite a short march. The whole distance was about 55 miles and, about two miles short of the weUs, we entered real dune country— a stormy sea of lofty billows tossed here and there in disorder but generally facing north with a rolling crest or incipient horseshoe hollows. Once we had to descend a very steep slope of soft sand, while a strong blustering south wind blew about us till 1 ’Uruq al Abal and ’Uruq al Khilla.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS 135
5 p.m. when it dropped, leaving us to enjoy a clear, soft, warm night.
Short though it was this march had been a dreary one and our mournful procession had been strung out to a long column. Zayid rode ahead mth Humaid and Salih, talking with his usual vivacity to a respectful audience. Not far behind but alone rode Ibn Ma’addi., reciting passages from the Quran which he knew by heart — during Ramdlian the ' reading ’ of the book through as many times as possible is accounted for virtue. Far behind, Sa’dan and I rode along together conversing, and still further in the rear the rest marched in a solid phalanx chanting a monotonous shanty.
At Bir Fadhil, whose eponymous digger was a former Shaikh of k4dhba, the premier section of Murra, though the watering is regarded as the property of the Buqaih Ghafran, we found four wells spread over a mile length in a wide de¬ pression of the sands. The originaF shaft was out of action and half filled with sand as the result of a visit in the pre¬ ceding April by a raiding party of the Sa’ar tribe. They had watered their animals and filled their skins but had not troubled to replace the usual cover. I cast a stone into its depths but there was no answering sound of water, though one would have thought that it would have been simpler to clear out the sand from a well in recent use than to dig a new one. Not so, however, the Ghafran, who had set to in the summer to excavate the shaft by which we now pitched our tents in a small patch of gravel almost hidden by the encroaching sand. How ’Ali knew the spot, apparently described to him by its authors — for he had never seen it — was a mystery, but he marched straight to it and dismounted at what looked like a low mound of sand. He and others, however, soon cleared away the latter and revealed the covering of rafters and skins over the well-mouth. It was found, however, that part of the cover had collapsed inwards, admitting a good deal of sand into the shaft. Consequently no watering was possible until Zayid, stripped to the waist,
^ styled Umm or ‘ mother while the others are J ahliyat, apparently meaning ‘ children though the word may refer to the fact that they are old forgotten shafts rediscovered and re-excavated.
136 THE EMPTY QUARTER
descended to clear out the accumulated rubbish, which was hauled up by the others as he filled the leather bucket with fragments of sandstone rock, bits of wood and, of course, much sand. ^V^hen it was cleared a camel w^as harnessed to the long rope and the watering began. I measured the depth with my tape and found it to be no less than 126 feet, while the drawing incline of the parent well was as much as 58 paces, say 143 feet. The latter’s mouth was, however, situated in a raised mound, about 10 feet high and represent¬ ing the accumulated mixture of sand, moisture and camel- dung through generations or centuries, while the mouth of the one we used was flush with the ground level. The extra depth of the older shaft, therefore, represents a fortuitous addition, and I saw the grooves scored by well-ropes in the stone blocks lining the shaft at its original mouth level. The other two wells (one excavated in 1930 and since abandoned) were completely buried but it seemed strange to me that the Badawin should be capable of such works. By further en¬ quiry, however, I elicited the fact that the actual shafts have existed from time immemorial, while the ‘ digging ’ of our well, for instance, by the Ghafran meant no more than its rediscovery and clearing. The shafts seemed to be sunk through a ruddy sandstone.
In this well area I came upon a small cemetery, the first seen in Murra territory and containing 10 graves in a rough circle round one of greater dimensions, probably that of a Shaikh. Each was marked at the head by a block of white stone. It is indeed strange that one does not see in these desert tracts more frequent reminders of the vanity of life, but the explanation is simple enough. At Jabrin bo^es committed to the saline mud are soon reduced to nothing, while in the desert the sand conveniently veils the passing of man. I picked up a small fragment of basaltic scoria which Hasan assured me was of the ‘ walking stone ’ type he knew, but it was also suggested that it might have been brought here to be ground into a powder they use for the eyes. Or it might, accordingto others, have been used as a pounding stone^
1 Called Haid al Rawah. No one could say where such fragments might have come from. See Appendix.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
137
i/S
e,
bo
le
)8
.t-
3l-
of
ra
us
he
he
d)
he
>n-
ive
iur
its
nk
rst ■gii f a ite ese ife, Lies ng, rof ich
3W,
ght r it ne^
ight
or pestle. The floor of the depression was, like that of Maqainama, strewn with date-stones, bits of leather and other unconsidered trifles eloquent of much human occupa¬ tion of the site. 'Ali told me that about two days to the north lay the well of Juwaifa with another, ’Uwaiya, to east of it at about the same distance from Bir Eadhil, two days east of which is Eadhila, another deepish well. All this northern part of the sands is thus fairly liberally sprinkled with waterings, and Mr. Thomas’ map, of which fortunately I had received a copy before starting on my journey, showed a continuous series of wells all along the route followed by him. I gathered from it- however, that the country westward of his line of march w^as waterless, and this impression seems to be con¬ firmed by his book.^ I was naturally anxious to keep as far from his route as possible, while ’All’s desire was to go south¬ east from Bir Eadhil to a w^ell named Umm al Hadid, which Mr. Thomas had not shown on his map and which from ’Ali’s accounts I suspected of being the reputed site of Wabar or very near it. The indications were that it was not very far from Earaja on Mr. Thomas’ route, but I was anxious to miss no ancient or extant waterings further west and I had ascertained in the course of conversation during these weeks that ’Ali knew of certain old wells along the fringe of the really waterless desert. It was important to put these on the map and I, therefore, insisted on proceeding southward rather than in the direction suggested by my guide.
That was accordingly the direction in which we struck out next morning after watering the camels, filling up our 32 waterskins with the last sweet water we should see for some time — ^that of Bir Eadhil ranks high in Badawin estimation though doubtless similar to the water of Maqainama — and replacing the cover over the mouth of the well. At 10 a.m. a fresh south wind was blowing as we marched along a range^ of dunes, whose half-formed horseshoe hollows faced north¬ west below their sharply chiselled wall-like crests. It is all drought, this earth, said ’Ali encouragingly. But there was a fair amount of rather dry Ghadha on the lower sands, while before us lay the dark expanse of a great bushy, gravel plain
^ Arabia Felix, p, 266 and Appendix III. ^ Ghadha.
138
THE EMPTY QUARTER
with, the dune range of Humaila afar off beyond it. I dawdled on with Salim, now again our guide, observing the activities of a Bifasciated Lark, while Salih unsuccessfully stalked an eagle which had perched out of our way on a dune crest.
When he rejoined us we descended an easy slope on to the gravel plain of Shuqqat^ al Khalfat while our companions as usual lagged in the rear. Suddenly I observed a white object on the ground and, before I could take in its significance, we were marching on masses of them. Look ! I said to Salim, shells of the sea ! I must dismount. He was off his camel in a trice, performing a sprightly war-dance as he gazed down at a cluster of bivalves. For nearly two hours we remained with others of our party riveted to that spot, while the bag¬ gage went ahead. Apart from Wabar itself this was perhaps the most interesting and dramatic discovery of the whole journey. The place was simply littered with shells, and among the shells we collected a good assortment of the most delightful flint implements of antiquity, the first of which was picked up and brought to me by Farraj, while Zayid, grub¬ bing under the gravel, brought me a lump of what he im¬ agined to be disintegrated mud of man-made walls ! It was evidently alluvial soil of an old river or lake and appeared to lie in bands which certainly created the illusion of wall- foundations.
Years ago on the way down to Wadi Dawasir I had crossed a number of wide torrent beds which were reported to run out into and lose themselves in the desert to eastward against the sand barrier of Dahna. I had assumed that the ancient city of Wabar must have been on the banks of one of these in the days when water flowed in them ; and I had always hoped that the exploration of the sands of the G-reat Desert might reveal the traces of a great civilisation in a once fertile land such as Sir Aurel Stein has unearthed in the dried-up river beds of the Central Asian desert. Mr. Thomas had apparently found no trace either of such channels or of such civilisation, but he had found an universality of sand which seemed to render such discoveries unlikely.
^ Shuqqa (plural Shiqaq) means a ‘ cut ’ or ‘ slice ’ — generally indicating a gravel valley or plain with or without vegetation but not very broad. Raqqa is used for hard plain, gravel or rock.
rORGOTTEN RIVERS
139
id
es
m
le
as
ct
ve
a-,
in
^n
ed
«-
ps
)le
ad
)St
^as
ib-
m-
'■as
to
dl-
led
)Ut
ist
mt
3se
lys
ert
die
•up
Lad
ich
ich
bing
)ad.
Wben we found the fossils at Qarn Abu Wail and Anbak, ’Ali had told me of another shell deposit known to Mm in the desert, but that was to the west of Shanna, and it was a pleasant surprise indeed to come upon another at tMs point. The sands between Maqainama and Bir FadMl had been streaked with broad glades of gravel and grit, but they had produced notMng of especial interest and seemed to me to be but the last kicks of the Summan as the steppe petered out under the sands. From Bir Fadhil onwards, I had supposed, all would be sand and notMng but sand. But that was far from being the case. Between it and Tuwairifa greater or smaller gravel patches and exposures of the underlying bed¬ rock were pleasingly frequent, wMle further west was re¬ ported a large gravel plain called Rala with Sahma and Abu Bahr beyond it south and west. Clearly, therefore, the western (waterless) part of the Rub' al Khali was less sandy than the eastern, wMle here in Shuqqat al Khalfat we Mad a gravel plain some 10 miles long, as far as I could judge, and three miles broad. A thick covering of bushes gave it an air of unexpected fertility, wMle the shells made it certain that at one time in the past there had been water here. The absence of any trace of fossilisation suggested a compara¬ tively recent date, and the flint implements found in associa¬ tion with the shells set me off imagining ancient man in occu¬ pation of the banks of an old river or lake, or visiting them to hunt with spears and arrows the beasts that came down to drink.
The northern edge of the plain seemed to shelve or sink down towards the foot of the dune range which we had crossed to get to it, and I formed tentatively the opimon that I had in all probability encountered part of an old river-bed, whose upper reaches might be sought in the Wadi beds of the Aflaj province and south of it, wMch I have already men¬ tioned.
Only one factor — and that a very important one — ^re¬ mained to be determined. Were the shells of marine or freshwater origin ? I had no means of deciding that point and knew that I would have to wait till I got back to England before the question could be answered. Meanwhile I regis-
140
THE EMPTY QUARTER
tered the opinion I have stated and the hope that it might be right. And on the strength of that hope I drew dotted hnes on my mapping sheets connecting the shells of Shuqqat al Khalfat with a great river system traversing the desert from the Aflaj . Wadi Maqran, as the greatest of the western channels known to me, seemed to be the most appropriate name to adopt for the whole.
My companions applauded the fancy that had bridged 250 miles of hopeless desert with a river. We collected all we wanted of the bivalves, and in due course the experts of the British Museum diagnosed our finds as freshwater’- shells. Unfortunately they have proved to be of species which have existed continuously for a long period and still exist. It has, therefore, not been possible to determine either their age or the approximate date of the beginnings of desiccation in Arabia. The flint implements found in association with the shells, however, have been classed® as being of Neohthic and Bronze Age types, but the date of the evolution of such types in any country can only be deduced with certainty from their geological associations. The rivers of the great desert would at any rate seem to have flowed until the very dawn of history if not within historic times. And if 5000 B.c. be considered as the approximate date of the passing of the Neohthic culture in Arabia on the analogy of the Libyan Desert, as suggested by Miss Caton-Thompson, the onset of desert conditions in the Empty Quarter must have developed contemporaneously with the early beginnings of serious civihsation in such countries as Egypt and Mesopotamia. Such a civihsation might indeed have made a beginning in these parts only to be stifled by Nature’s hostility ; and there was nothing in the nature of the case to preclude the possibihty of discovering ancient ruins in the Rub‘ al Khah. In any ease our knowledge at the moment was too hmited to be anything but encouraging. We had actuaUy found evidences of human activity in ancient times amidst the apparent rehcs of a river, and we passed on hoping to add to
^ See Appendix.
* By Mr. Reginald Smith of the British Museum and Miss G. Caton- Thompson.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
141
the tale of our discoveries the city which legend has re¬ presented as the supreme achievement of the ancient Ara¬ bians. And it is perhaps only surprising that, while a comparatively recent date must provisionally be assumed for the inception of Arabian desiccation, no trace of Palaeo¬ lithic or even Mesolithic culture has been found among the flints collected during our expedition. It may be presumed, therefore, that the relics of such earlier cultures (which must surely have developed under conditions so favourable) may yet be found, if ever the spade is used to reveal the contents of the lower levels of the alluvium, on whose surface we made our discovery of shells and flints.
’Ali had left us to our shell-collecting and gone on with the baggage. A hare had, however, led him astray and he now met us, as we passed out of the gravel into the rolling sands of ^Arq Numaila, with the results of his collecting — ^the hare, a Palestine Short-toed Lark^ and a whole family of ravens. Of the last he had shot the father, wounded the mother and secured her alive, and annexed the family of three exceedingly hideous, blind, naked, wide-mouthed babies. We did what we could to keep the living alive, but they died in our despite at intervals during the next few days. For the youngsters Zaid, the cook, made me a pickle of salt and water in which I consigned them in my ignorance to a hermetically-sealed tobacco tin. Some days later I took it into my head to see how they were progressing, but no sooner had I eased the lid than the whole caboodle exploded in my face with a report like a pistol shot and a stench than which I can imagine nothing more noisome. I fled precipitately from the mess, abandoning the trophies to the desert sand and the tender mercies of a pair of their relatives that sat by awaiting our departure before prospecting our leavings.
We marched on over the Numaila sands, interrupted at intervals by patches of gravel, in some of which we found shells and flints while others produced nothing. Thanks to a late start, a long delay at the shell-deposit and the nearness of the Numaila well, we camped by what had once been a watering at 2 p.m. after a total march of only 10 miles. And
1 See Appendix.
142
THE EMPTY QUARTER
where is the well? I asked. There, yonder! replied ’Ah pointing to a sandhill which could be differentiated from those that surrounded it far and wide only hy a vague Utter of very ancient camel-dung here and there . Of the well itself, buried under a smooth barrow of sand, there was no trace whatever and I wondered how on earth our guides had man¬ aged to find the spot. I would perhaps have questioned the existence of the well but for a remarkable incident. There had been water here, they told me, at 23 fathoms, but the well had not been visited by herding Arabs since the great drought had set in some eight or ten years back. ’Ali and SaUm had both visited it before then, but Ibn Humaiyid, who had been there as a child, remembered having secreted his toys in a certain spot. To that spot he now went and from it unearthed a score or so of small, fiat clay discs, pierced through in the centre, which the Badawin children use in playing a game called Darraj?' How the game is played I did not exactly ascertain, but their attempts to explain it left me with the impression of a combination of draughts, halma and tiddlywinks. I added the discs (of which we found other stray specimens at a few places on our route) to my collection and photographed a group of our guides on the tomb of the well.
The higher flights of desert-craft are as uncaimy as the soarings of an Einsteinian brain. The ordinary man cannot fathom the intricacies of thought that lead to results either palpable or pleasingly intelUgible. One gasps alike at the famiUar handUng and dissection of atoms and the unerring detection of a virgin by her footprints. In both cases the responsible factor would seem to be not instinct — as pre¬ sumably is the case with animals seeking food, water or mates — but education. The habit, derived from generations of instruction on particular lines or under particular condi¬ tions, of observing the material facts and applying a certain train of reasoning to the facts observed can alone account for the miracles of the expert. The memorising'of experience is a necessary coroUary to the achievement of such a habit. And so in the Arabian desert the good guide is he who ob-
^ Meaning ‘ wheels ’ or ‘ rollers h
143
FORGOTTEN RnTEES
serves carefully, deduces accurately and remembers faitb- fully. Tlie desert man knows every dune and ridge and fold as tbe shepherd knows his individual sheep. From each one to the next he will guide you unerringly until you come to the desired objective, but from afar he may deceive you and himself if you ask him to point out its bearing. He follows the path dictated by his own memory and experience, while the best guides can do as much on the mere description of a fellow-expert, for in their science they all use the same terms and symbols as men of learning do all the wnrld over. Yet outside their own sphere — this strange sand-sense of the great desert — the Murra did not appear to be gifted with great brains or quick perceptions. ’Ah, it is true, had gleams of intelligence and flashes of curiosity about things beyond Ms ken ; but Ibn Humaiyid, Suwid and Salim, ail experts in their own Limited sphere, were far from quick in the uptake. Sahm, indeed, seemed at times to make vigorous efforts not to understand anytMng that impinged on Ms senses from an unaccustomed angle, and often I amused myself trying to make him do so — generally with ultimate success if I could get Mm alone and far from all possibility of appeal to Zayid and others, who were only too willing to play the interpreter. And it was always a treat to hear Mm chuckle aloud as the light dawned on Mm. You are intelligent, he would say, more intelligent than I am ; do you get me ?
The gusty, dusty north wind, wMch had greeted us at Bir FadMl and had dropped during the day, now got up again to plague us through the night, nearly upsetting my tent and sprinkling everytMng with sand. The mimmum tempera¬ ture during the past few Mghts had been 50° — at Maqainama it had dropped to 41° on the last Mght — and at dawn, the wind having dropped, it was pleasantly cool under a clear sky.
We got off at 8 a. m. to march over a typical ‘ desert ’ land¬ scape of low rolling billows broken here and there by scat¬ tered ranges of Mgher dunes like breakers on the swollen bosom of an ocean. Patches of vegetation, dead these eight years, varied the yellow monotony and occasionally we came almost with a shock upon a thin line of fresh Andab grass,
144
THE EMPTY QUARTER
which our camels mowed down in their stride with long scythe-like sweeps of neck and head. These grasses and some bushes of Hadh suggested that there had been some very slight recent fall of rain, but generally the drought reigned supreme and there was no sign of life in the waste.
Between the parallel dune-ranges^ lay shallow sandy yal- leys with frec[neiit patches of the bedrock exposed and sprink- led with graTel. My experience of the previous day encour¬ aged me to visit as many of these as possible, and it struck me as strange that such marked features should be nameless. Doubtless they are liable to effacement by the movement of the sands and in any case they were of httle interest to a pastoral community. My companions indeed seemed to resent my frequent detours to visit them, though they showed every sign of satisfaction when one such patch, larger than most, yielded a harvest of flints in the gravel over- lying a soil of markedly alluvial character. We cele¬ brated the circumstance by naming the valley Raqqat al
Shalfa.2 A
After mid-day the dust-laden wind revisited the scene
though it was behind us and seemed to act as a spur to the camels. Gaily we marched along over the rolhng sandy downs beyond Raqqat al Shalfa until suddenly in the midst of that dead world there appeared a swallow strugghng gamely along northwards in the face of the blustering wind. It seemed to experience as much delight in the encounter as it gave me, fluttering familiarly round and between the slow- marching camels for full five minutes when, apparently realising that time was short and the way long before it, it circled round us once more and disappeared for ever. It looked to be in perfect condition to judge from the sheen of its burnished blue-black plumage, and it showed no sign of distress. Fortunately for it, my gun was with ’Ali who was far out on our flank seeking hares, and I thought fondly that, safely delivered from the dangers of such a meeting in the perilous desert, it might be in England before me. Almost immediately afterwards we found and captured a lizard,
>■ ’Arq al Sabat, ’Arq abu ’Afina and others.
® ‘ The beach of the spearpomt.’
FORGOTTEN RIVERS 145
while two locusts and a few beetles completed my bag for the afternoon.
The camels disliked the gravel patches almost as much as my companions and most days, on arriving in camp, some animal or more than one had to be attended to. The sharp stones, on which the men walked and ran with complete unconcern, tore the tender pads of the sand-bred animals to ribbons and they marched dabbing the desert with red spots of blood. The Arabs’ treatment for such troubles consists of simple botching. A strip or round of leather is neatly cut out to the required size — ^in modern Arabia the rubber of discarded inner tubes of the motorist are often used instead of leather and we had a few sections of such material with us — and soaked vdth butter which is also liberally smeared over the pad to be doctored. Strong men then hold down the struggling beast on its side w’-hile the cobbler — generally Abu Ja’sha in our party — threads a stout bodkin with a thin leather thong and draws it through patch and sole, repeating the process until the former becomes more or less part of the latter. Rough ends are then cut or smoothed off, and the camel rises, apparently none the worse for the operation, to face more bravely a new world of gravel or grit. My always tender feet could sympathise with a camel’s ordeal on rough ground, but the Arab, regardless of years or sex, has inherited an enviable hide underfoot.
Ever and anon as we laboured on over the sand-ocean we had views of dune-ranges near or far ; and after some time we passed into a plain, some three miles wide and consisting of long alternating strips of low sand and gravel with scanty herbage, to which we gave the name of Shuqqat abu Nahar (" daydime ’) for the reason that it formed the threshold, as it were, of an extensive tract of once much frequented pas¬ ture lands known as Marbakh abu Laila {' night ’) . It formed indeed a dark band against the horizon. In former times, said Salim, when there was life in these parts, it was so black over there with the bushes that they named it so. That was probably no more than an extempore piece of aetiology, for I doubt not that the name is derived from Abu Laila, the sur¬ name of the Shaikhs of the Zayid branch of Ghaffan.
146 the esipty quarter
It was a gently undulating sand plain, naore wMte or grey now than black for little remained of the old pastures than the half-buried stumps of dead bushes. It was mid-afternoon and the baggage-train ahead of us seemed to be wilting. e customary‘'halt for the afternoon prayer was too much for us and though we remounted after it to continue the march, we onlv rode for a quarter of an hour before giying it up as a bad job. At our snail’s pace it was impossible to reach Tuwairifa before sunset and, as we intended to spend a night there in anv case, we might just as well leave ourselves something to do (only seven miles as it proved) on the mor¬ row. The afternoons of these desert marches were always weary, dreary, drowsy affairs, especially when the mnd was in the south. That was not the case now , but the sand driving before the crusts of the north wind had much the same effect, and we were fasting. Three weeks we had now done of the month, and it was more the sense of restraint than anything else that was beginning to be irksome. With three pots of tea and a bowl of camel’s milk each day between sunset and dawn I knew not the pangs of thirst, though there were moments when a draught of cold water would, I thought, have been the best drink in aU the world. For the rest it was coffee that mattered, and they seemed to find some sort of respite from their yearning if only they could be at rest pre¬ paring the stuff for the critical moment and watching the sun creep down to the horizon. It would have been more sen¬ sible to get over as much ground as possible while aU chance of actual refreshment was taboo, but there is httle sense in men who march resenting every step that increases the distance from home. And there was httle or no game to produce the necessary diversion in their gloomy minds.
We camped by a row of low dunes in a desolate patch of dead vegetation, and the night turned astonishingly cold after the wind had dropped at sunset. The thermometer recorded a Tninimum of 37°, and I shivered as I issued from my warm, comfortable tent for diimer in the open as usual. But there was still some meat left of the camel killed at Maqainama. Try some of this, said Sahh holding out a bit
FOEGOTTEN EIYERS
147
of tripe, it is very good. It was hard and crisp as crackling with a strange flavour — quite good.
Next day there were again many patches of gravel among the shallow sands and we came upon two low groins of pebble- covered bedrock which strongly suggested the alignment of a Wadi. Zayid and Sahm had dismounted with me to pros¬ pect the ground for flints when the former picked up a very nice arrow-head. And look, he said, the sand has dug up a well ! Do you know it, Salim ? No, replied the other, there are no wells known hereabouts but those of Tuwairifa. But it is a weU, perchance, of the ancients.^ I have never heard of any well here. 'Ali and Ibn Humaiyid were consulted and declared that no such weU was known. For years no one had been in these parts and the wind had worked unseen to dis¬ cover a former shaft. There was at any rate no mistaking the familiar raised ring dipping to a hollow choked with sand, and we agreed to name it Bir Maqran to commemorate my theory regarding the source of these ungainsayable indica¬ tions of forgotten rivers. Keeping still within what seemed to be the banks of a valley we came after about two miles to a bulge of it containing the five wells of Tuwairifa.
We had now encountered fragments of old valley for¬ mations at intervals spread over a length of nearly 40 miles from north to south. The wells of Tuwairifa like those of Numaila and Bir Fadhil were reputed to be some 22 fathoms deep, and it seemed clear that the whole area overlay a deep- down table of sweet water. At the same time there are the great Wadis of the Aflaj tract (from Shafib al ’Ars to Wadi Maqran) some 200 miles to the west to be accounted for. In the fragmentary nature of the available evidence it would be impossible to say whether these valleys united in the desert to form a single river coming down to Tuwairifa and turning thence northward to Numaila and Bir Fadhil and so to the sea, or whether rather they came down independently into a great delta plain in this deep-well tract. In any case the sea cannot have been very far eastward of this region in those days, for the shallow brackish weUs along Mr. Thomas’ route seem to point to such a conclusion. My suggestion is, there-
^He used the word J ahliyat.
14S
THE EMPTY QUARTER
fore that we have to do with an old forgotten river or rivers or a delta running down to a sea or bay in this neighbourhood. We have deep wells, freshwater shells and nurnerous relics of human visitation to support the theory wMle the existence of a vast marine bay in the eastern tract of Rub al Khali would seem to be borne out by the shallow briny stratum of water underlying the tract known as Al Kdiman, to which we
shall come in due course. , , , , x.
The evidence of altitudes above sea-level does not, n^- ever, suggest a single valley trending northwards from Tu- wairifa, as Kumaila and Bir EadhiP both he at a higher level. The land surface dips eastwards from Maqainama to the Bir Fadhil and Numaila tract, -which appears to be nearly level in that longitude and contains the shell-deposit of Shuqqat al Khalfat, while south of Numaila the land slopes southward to the vaUey tract of Tuwairifa. This drop in altitude corres¬ ponds with a similar fall from the northern part of Aflaj to the ilaqran neighbourhood, and it may, therefore, he that we have to do with two valley systems rather than one the Wadis of Aflaj proper trending eastward to Bir Fadhil and Numaila, and the Maqran system flowflng to Tuwairifa parallel to hut south of them. This at any rate seems the most reasonable tentative conclusion for the time being.
As we approached Tuwairifa up the valley the gravel patches were scored by the usual camel -paths radiating from any desert well, hut I noticed among them three rather remarkable parallel lines of sinuous tracks, marked more deeply and running fairly close together. After a while the sand covered them but they reappeared in the gravel beyond. Mv companions agreed that they were remarkable hut could not explain them, and I -was left -with my o-wn conjecture that they were possibly portions of an old caravan route which touched at this watering on its way. The lines I saw lay south-west and north-east, leading possibly to Maqainama or more directly to the Aflaj .
1 Bir Fadhil is 775 feet above sea-level ; Numaila 800 feet ; and Tuwairifa only GOO ; wliile Maqainama is 850. These altitudes are, of
GOUTS©, only approxiniate, being tbe result of tbe computation of my Aneroid and Boding Point Tliei-momefcer readings.
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
149
Tiie five wells of Tuv/airifa lie in a sandy hollow with a dune range some 40 or 50 feet high running along the north side of the valley. Abandoned by the grazing Badawin eight years ago when the drought began, they have been choked with sand. The main well is, however, clearly trace¬ able, while the others were not difficult to locate by exposed portions of their raised lips and the usual litter of debris cleared from the shafts — at the bottom of one of which, they told me, lies the corpse of a man who was entombed years ago by the collapse of the shaft while he was engaged in clearing it out. The water is said to lie in a stratum of rock — presumably sandstone — but the pits are sunk through a considerable depth of alluvial soil which is hable to cave in, as it had done on that occasion. Grinding stones, fragments of marine shells obviously brought here by man, flint chips, Darraj discs and an Arab horseshoe were among the trophies collected from the rubbish heaps.
'Ah and FarraJ had gone off wide of our route in the morn¬ ing with my gun and a supply of amiiiuiiition in the hope of finding something to shoot. I had told them not to spurn any small birds they might come across, and they now came in with a very satisfactory bag of four hares, two Bifasciated Larks and two Wheatears.^ Before sunset 'Ali accompanied me to the top of a dune overlooking the country all round. He seemed to be anxious as they are apt to be when encamped on a well, for a raiding party might well look in at so remote a watering in the hope of finding it opened up. However my glasses reassured Mm that we were alone and unwatched. What a scene of emptiness ! I remarked. The wells dead and all around us the country parched with drought — nothing but low rolhng sands ! But what a country it was in those days I he replied. Ten years ago, or it may be twelve, I saw Oryx here — yes, plenty of them — in these sands. Ah ! that is the very crown of sport, the shooting of the Oryx. And you, your fortune is good for you will be the first stranger to see the Oryx in Ms own country. Ay, if God wills we shall certainly shoot them before long when we get down to better
^ For the identification of all my ornithological specimens 1 am indebted to Mr. N. B. Kinnear of the British Museum. See Appendix.
the empty quarter
„!-t„res-in abundance too. And the chilton of the Oryn
ToS X^as had secured U™ specimens to bring home
f;d';Tthe present of a pmr o" y1
Ibn SaAd had sent to King Ueorge. iina i i g j amon^ the dunes that you may shoot them jo^self. Yes, toe no fear, are shall see them in plenty-.f God wills, ih ' foUow tie paatnres-the food of the camel is them food "^ieC on sand or steppe, though they prefer the steppe if gmsing is good. Yet the sands ate their refuge from
man aid danger. This place ™ ‘Sweara'
wild-cat too and foxes in plenty, but this g y
■^fdiiiided the slope as the sun began t o set and re j oined out companions for the breaking of the fast. With ttoe waterless davs behind us and at least toee more to come Lre was much talk of a long march on the morrow, but we had spoken of such things so often only to break down either when it came to making an early start or to marching through a whole afternoon that I did not pay much atten¬ tion to their words. This time, however, they had meant what they said, and it was only 3.30 a.m. when I was woken by shouts announcing the readiness of our mormng supper Immediately afterwards I set to work as usual on my joimnal and collections, but they demanded my tent, which, with my approval, was removed from over my head as I sat at my tasks. Bv 4.30 the baggage train had actually moved off under the^guidance of Sahm, who shared with ’Ah the mono- poly of tke great secret of tke sands. It was still dark, of course, and the air cold and crisp without wind. Indeed the conditions were almost wintry again and the thermometer had registered a minimum of less than 34°. I continued my work with a pot of tea to warm me up, while the party left behind with me huddled over the fire drinking coffee tiU prayer-time, when they wrapped themselves in their mantles to sleep tih sunrise. It was nearly 8 a.m. before we started and the day remained dehciously cool throughout TOth a maximum temperature of 68°. A north wind started hghtly
FORGOTTEN mYEBS
151
with, sunrise and gradually increased in strength and gusti¬ ness to die down altogether at sunset.
Before us lay the vast expanse of Bani Mukassar, a tract of several long parallel dune ranges. We seemed now to be in the very midst of the Great South Desert and the short lengths of dunes we had seen amidst the lower sands hitherto now gave way abruptly to dune barriers mountainous by comparison. Between the first two ranges lay a broad valley of rolling sand with considerable patches of the gritty or pebble-strewn rock floor exposed. On reaching the first range we skirted along its flank in the tracks of our bag¬ gage animals until, nearing the crest by a lofty dune, I called a halt to survey the scene from its summit. The wind swept the sand in a continuous sheet from its crest as we sat on the peak looking down into the gravel valley below and far out beyond it over range upon range of dunes like the one on which we were.
With Zayid and ’Ali I descended the steep soft slope of sand — perhaps 200 or 250 feet in elevation — on the further side to prospect the rock floor for flints or shells. Our camels, loudly protesting, were pushed or dragged down the slope, plunging almost knee-deep into the soft sand at every step. The range seemed to extend to a total length of about 5 miles along the flank of the valley, running NE. and SW. No sooner had we reached the bottom than we began to find flints, and a little further on we came upon the unmistakable traces of another unknown well — Sahm afterwards agreed that no well had been known to exist in that position — ^which we christened Bir Mukassar. It lay about 5 miles ESE. of Tuwairifa and proved to be the last vestige of human activity in this area of ancient floods.
Beyond it lay the desert sands uninterrupted. The rest of the party had continued in the tracks of the baggage, and we saw them coming over and down the slope of the range far ahead while we slanted across the valley to cut them off. A steep downward slope of soft sand took us over the second range, while an easy passage was found through the third, beyond which we traversed a rolling sandy down tract to the further extremity of Bani Mukassar. Its width from side to
152 the empty quarter
side s>-.s .bout 5 miles, and beyond it lay the district ot Sa'afij. in nhich tre remained for the rest of the day and for
tlie greater part of tk© next. ^
It'differed from the preceding tract in being an ocean of sand billows frequently streaked with short ranges of higher dunes like the breakers of a reef-strewn sea. The dune ranps, instead of being long and continuous, were long but broken
upintoshortechelonedlengths; and our course, which entered
the area through a gap between two such runs of dunes, with the deep bushv valley of Shiiqqan al Birkan just beyond them on our right hand-this vaUey is said to run south-west for a considerable distance — ^ran from gap to gap throngh no fewer than 10 of these intermittent ranges until we emerged on an upland of sandy downs without any dune features to break its ocean-hke regularity. There was httle of interest in the whole tract except that the Abal bush now reappeared on the bare sandy downs after a long absence from the scene —somewhat grudgingly it is true, but none the less welcome to tbe camels, wMoli had been showing signs of thirst as the result of many days’ restriction to a diet of rather dry Hadh, In one of the Abal bushes near our track we found an aban¬ doned raven’s nest, and on the second day we observed two pairs of ravens apparently contemplating matrimony and nest-building, while other individuals were seen from time to time. Small birds were also comparatively numerous — ^two kin<k of larks and a Wheatear— while our hunters got
several hares.
Our men had certainly been as good as their word, and it was 5 p.m. before we came up with the baggage party just as it had selected a site for the evening’s camp after twelve hours of almost unbroken marching. W e had covered nearly 30 miles and had thus accomphshed our best marching per¬ formance since the beginning of the expedition. While the tents were being erected I walked up to a low rounded sand barrow to survey the scene with the lad Muhammad who had taken up his position there to keep an eye on the camels, which had been turned out to graze on arrival in camp. ’Ali soon came up to join us and, as we sat there conversing, I could not help wondering how on earth and why a great
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
153
city had grown up in the midst of such desolation. The following day would answer that question, no doubt, and ’Ali spoke hopefuUy though perhaps he had begun to wonder whether he had not raised my hopes too high. And there was something else that troubled his avaricious soul. He directed the conversation into an easy channel, talking of raids and such things. He was explaining to me the system of the division of any booty captured in such expeditions. The Shaikh or leader of a raiding party would, of course, get an extra share beyond that of himself as an individual and that of his camel and any other mounts provided by him for his poorer and camel-less attendants. Thus to every man there would be one share and to every camel a share payable to the owner and not the rider. A fifth of the whole would be set aside for the Government or tribe, as the case might be, and any principal man would get an extra share in that capacity, while the chief of all would get yet another. Then, of course, there would be the guide, an important personage on such occasions, who would get a share in addition to any¬ thing earned in his various other capacities. Often, said he, I have acted as guide to such expeditions and thus gotten an extra share in the booty. But say — and he darted a sudden glance at me fuU of entreaty and yearning — did Ibii Jiluwi make it clear to you that I was to be the guide of this expedi¬ tion ? I answered him truly that I had been assured of a sufficiency of guides for each part of our wanderings. But fear not, I added, it will be well with you if you serve me well in what I want of you. And you see these glasses — I will make them a present to you in addition to other rewards when we arrive in the Hadhramaut. His eyes flamed with cupidity. Far be it from me to suggest rewards ! he repMed. I have no desire but to serve you and him that sent me with you, and I was angry that day when I heard you promising rewards to Salim and Suwid for the piece of iron. Remember that I am your guide, not they, in these parts.
Nearly three weeks had passed since the conversation he referred to, but he had not forgotten, and his mind was agog with jealousy and anxiety. Next morning the baggage was started off at 5.30, again under the guidance of Salim. And
’Ali
J54 the empty quarter
at S a m. the rest of us started oS in search of Wabar.
verv attentive. I mounted and he walked by my sxde leading NaTiya. At length in a quite normal and natural manner we tecame separated and I noticed hmx on our right Sank stiU leading his camel. As usual, I thought, he is ikin. tracks of game and, as I became involved m conver- saU'with Sa=dan and Ibn Ma’addi, I thought no more of the matter. The scene was quite featureless— a low cahn ocean of gentle billows. It is like the country round Earaja, said Ibn Ma’addi, whither I went down last year on the business of Ibn Jiluwi. We watered at Bid al Haifa and went down to Bir Fadhil by way of Qasab. Between Bir Fadhil and Faraja we watered at Fadhila. Faraja is buried now as we left it imcovered— we were out to pumsh some of Ah s folk, the Ghafran, so we left their well to perish. Now we must send our camels to water at Ibrahima, where they say is good water though further off. I knew that Mr. Thomas party had watered at Faraja and it was after his passmg— about a month later— that the punitive expedition had gone down south to Bir Hadi and Shanna. The Sa’afij district, some 40 miles across along the hne of our easterly route, is a part of the great Sanam tract. Beyond it eastward lay a similar area called Tara’iz whose gentle swelling is hsturbed here and there by isolated hiUocks of sand. ’Ah had been careful to describe this pecuharity to me, and I recognise the point that marked our passage from the one district into the other. A sohtary cone rose perhaps 50 feet from the general level with a hollow of the horseshoe type facing south but half Med-in with sand. Perhaps it was in course of for¬ mation, or it may have been in an advanced stage of burial, for the sand in the dip was very soft and the marks of a hare’s passage across it suggested a more ponderous animal, so large they were and deep. This must be the first of the Tara’iz, I exclaimed looking round instinctively for Ah to confirm my conjecture. I then reahsed I had not seen him for nearly five hours and in a flash I knew that he had given us ali the shp — ^for only one conceivable purpose. He had made up his mind to secure all the promised rewards for himself. That annoyed me and I expressed resentment at being left
FORGOTTEN RIVERS
155
guideless in a wilderness where, in all conscience, no guide could have added very much to the geographical knowledge I sought. I felt however that such commercialisation of a dramatic situation was inappropriate. I had pictured our picturesque caravan appearing suddenly before the derelict remnants of old-time splendour. ’All was taking the gilt off the ginger-bread, and I was angry.
We marched on rather gloomily and I hoped that after all we would not come to our destination that day. The peer¬ less monotony of the desert scarcely held promise of any¬ thing likely to disturb its unruffled calm. The afternoon was far advanced and at 3.30 we saw far ahead — ^miles ahead — ^the straggling line of our baggage caravan, still marching. By the time we caught it up it would surely be time to think of camping and, to make that more probable, I insisted on stopping for prayers soon after 4. My companions, however, had no desire for delay and I could not spin out the halt longer than 10 minutes. The prayers over, they were in their saddles at once and on we marched trying to overhaul the baggage.
Suddenly afar off to the right appeared a solitary rider ! He seemed to be gesticulating, but I held on. Look, said Zayid riding up to me, it is ’Ali summoning us to come in his direction. Look, I replied, there is the baggage with Salim far ahead. I will follow in Sahm’s tracks. He is our guide. iAIi has deserted us long since. He can come after us if he will but we will camp with the baggage when we come up with it. We can look for the iron to-morrow. I am weary and have had enough for to-day. We held on and ’Ah came trotting frantically towards us. God give you life and strength ! shouted some of the men as he approached near enough. If God wills, good news ! I kept silent, marching straight on as if I heard not. Come this way, shouted ’Ah. Sahm has erred from the path. It is there behind me ! He says, repeated Zayid, that we should turn to the right, to the south, whence he has come. It is there. I know, I rephed, but I shall go on to Sahm.
We marched on arguing, but it was in fact Salim that settled the issue. His party had noticed ’Ah’s return to us
J56 the EilPTY QUARTER
-’ivi he had already deflected his course at right angles.^ I .irted to ean.p avhere .-e were and leave the rums till the morrow, but I yielded to their pressure and we marched in the direction indicated by the disgruntled chief guide. For a while he rode silently by my side, haying fi _ ascertained the cause of my displeasure I was not certain of the position, he tried furtively, and I did not want to ead YOU hither and thither over these sands. So you left us ;-ithout a guide at all, I replied, to wander at our own sweet will ' I told Zavid tlie direction to follow, lie urged, and there were no hills or vaUeys in the way for me to name to you. It was aU Sa’afij and Tara’iz. Yet you should not have gone without a word to me, I insisted, thinMng now more of what
lay before us than of Ms conduct. _ -r i j
Look vou, Shaikh =AhduUah, he went on hoping I had relented,'! have found the castles. They are over yonder. We shall see them soon. And I give you good news I have never seen so much of them exposed before. Often the sand buries them entirely, and I knew not till I saw them that we should see them at all. And look ! he went on, I have brought a stone of one of the buildings to show you. From under his mantle, with an air of mystery, he produced a squarish block of vitreous hlue-hlack slag as of a furnace !
■| LUMP OF SILICA GLASS (EXTERIOR) FROM THE METEORITE CRATERS OF WABAR.
(Actual size.)
To face page 156.
12. (b) INTE SILICA GLAS
12. (c) TWO SPECIMENS OF FULGURITES FROM THE SOUTHERN SANDS.
Actual size.
(See page 199)
12. (b) INTERIOR OF (a) CUT THROUGH TO SHOW THE COMPOSITION OF THE SILICA GLASS FORMED BY THE FUSING OF THE SAND BY THE GREAT HEAT OF
THE METEORITE.
(See page 177)
To face page 156.
Frc
Bis
Sin
Sp!
He
Be
Fu
To
Ai
Se
Ai
Ai
N
Cl
A VISIT to eluded by I He had a vi Quarter, bu legend. An thing withii Sahm ibn S vague sec 01 our converi quently to placed a fr ballad snat I do not k] second line ibn al Adh wheedling poem freqi ever likely
CHAPTER III
Wx4BAR
From Qariya strikes the sun upon the town ;
Blame not the guide that vainly seeks it now,
Since the Destro^ung Power laid it low.
Sparing nor cotton smock nor sihien gown.
Hear then the words of ’Ad, Kin’ ad his son :
Behold my castled-town, Aubar yclept .
Full ninety steeds within its stalls I kept,
To hunt the quarry, small and great, upon ,
And ninety eunuchs me within its walk ^
Served in resplendent robes from north and easu ,
And ninety concubines, of comely breast And rounded hips, amused me in its halls.
Now all is gone, all this with that, and never Can ought repair the wreck— no hope for ever .
A VISIT to Wabar had at my request been specifically in¬ cluded by Ibn Jiluwi in the programme of our operations He had I vague idea that it was somewhere in the Empty Quarter hut of all my companions only a few knew the baend ’ And only two of them could connect it mth any- tMng within their ken. Those two were =Ali Jahman and Sahm ibn Suwailim, while Suwid and Ibn Humaiyi ^ ^
tg^e second-hand knowledge of the locality^ iTconversation during the past weeks had toed fre- quentlv to the topic, and at the head of this chapter I have placed a free rendering of the somewhat Luad snatched as we rode from the bps of I do not know-nor did he-hut he happened second hne as we sought the almost vamshed weU of Hafair ibn al Adham near the edge of Jafnra, and by coaxing and wheedUn<T I got the rest out of him, making him repeat th poem frequently until I had the text as complete as it w^ OTer hkely to be. He apparently knew no other poem relatmg
158
THE EMPTY QUARTER
to the legendary city, and I was particularly intrigued by the form in which its name appeared — ^Aubar, the plural of Wabr?^ He pronounced the first syllable as a deep rich 0, a letter which, of course, does not occur in the Arabic alpha¬ bet.
Ya’qut, the classical authority for the legend (which he repeated from Hamdani and others), gives the name as Wabar ; and it was certainly in that form that I first heard tell of the city from the companions of my journey down to Wadi Dawasir in 1918. On that occasion Jabir ibn Earaj had told me of a wondrous block of iron ‘ like a camel ’ — he probably meant in size though I thought he might be refer¬ ring to a statue — in the midst of the southern sands. He declared he had seen it himself and gave me an indication — bearing and distance from the Aflaj where we were at the time — of its position. In speaking of this block of iron he had used the term ' Hadida ’ which I took to be merely the Arabic for ' a piece of iron,’ while he had also mentioned that it was in the midst of some ruins called Jafura. From another source — either from another of my companions or somebody met in the Aflaj — I heard of a group of ruins in the same sands, from which Badawin had been reported as picking up relics of human antiquity. For this locality also I got a bearing and distance from the Aflaj together with the name of Wabar and the details of its legend, which was supposed to Link the ancient city of ’Ad ibn Shaddad (? Eon’ad) with some (com¬ paratively recent) ruins known as Qusairat ’Ad on the border of the Aflaj province.
In such circumstances information is inevitably elicited somewhat vaguely and in driblets, but I pieced the material together as best I could and published the results of my investigations with an account of my first wanderings in Arabia.^ I also attempted to indicate roughly on the map the resulting positions of the two localities under the names of Jafura and Wabar.
The former name caused Major Cheesman a good deal of
1 Meaning ‘ camel-hair ’ or ‘ coney.’ (7/. AU al Wa6ar= people of hair- tents {vtde Burton, Arabian Nights, note on 977th Night).
The Heart of Arabia, YoL II, pp. 221-2.
WABAR
159
difficulty and perhaps a little disappointment, for on Ms journey to Jabrin he skirted the whole of the western fringe of Jafura, wMch he thus found to be a long way north of the ruins indicated by me. That the use of the name was an error is ungainsay able, but the error was, I am convinced, Jabir’s not mine, though I may have been responsible for it by pressing Mm to name a locality without realising that he had in fact already given me the local name in A1 Hadida. His section of the Murra, the Buhaih, centres in effect on the Jafura sands and in the circumstances he may have thought in desperation that that name was good enough for such as me.
In any case I was on that occasion left with the impression of two quite distinct ancient sites in the Great South Desert at a considerable distance apart. And I registered the hope and intention of exploring them and other parts of the Empty Quarter some day if possible. So far as I was concerned the project rested there for many years and I heard no more of the mysterious ruins which I could not forget. MeanwMle Mr. Thomas had been hearing vaguely of the same things during Ms sojourn in Oman, and at an early stage of Ms journey of last year across the Rub' al Rhali he was shown by Ms guides a broad band of caravan tracks leading north¬ west out of the fringing steppe into the sands of Ramla Shu'ait. That, he was told, was the road to Ubar.
His spelling of the word is interesting as showing what purports to be the local pronunciation of Ms guides men of the Karb, ’Awamir and Kathir tribes, whose borderland character may have exposed them to foreign linguistic taints. The word itself is an impossible Arabic form, aud Mr. Thomas does not seem to have realised its obvious affinity with the classical form of IVabar until the fact was pointed out by me.^ Nevertheless there can be little or no doubt that the legendary city of the sands, referred to in the classics as Wabar or Aubar and in dialectical usage as tJbar or Obar, is one and not many. This point indeed scarcely admits of argument, though it is obviously open to those who will to seek the ruins elsewhere than at the spot wMch I had now ^ Arabia Felix, pp. 161-3.
160 THE EMPTY QUARTER
reached with the specific object of finding them and with cruides professing to be able to locate them.
“ On the strenath of the information gleaned by him Mr. Thomas suggested on his map a ‘ probable site of the ancient citv of Ubar ’ approximately in Long. 50° 30' E. and Lat. 19 N.” That spot is more than 200 miles south-east of mine, and it may be that there are ruins there, though the catalogue of relics found between Slitan and Easad by his Rashidi com¬ panion Mai-uf, who ‘ had long ago forgotten the precise site,’ is not particularly impressive. My own experiences did not tempt me to divert my wanderings in that direction when I might have done so from Shanna. Nevertheless the caravan tracks — ^if thev are more than camel paths leading from the steppe pastures to waterings in the sands, which are numerous in the neighbourhood in question — are intriguing enough and merit consideration. To judge by their direction they naight well lead to the once important and prosperous province of Aflaj, which would doubtless have been a customer of the exploiters of the Qara frankincense forests. In that case they would probably have passed through the watering of Tuwairifa, where, as already recorded, I saw similar tracks of the same orientation though on a narrower front. And incidentally they could scarcely have failed to pass by or close to my suggested site for Wabar.
At any rate Mr. Thomas, hke myself in 1918, was left with the impression of a ruinous site somewhere in the sands, while later in his journey he wms told by his Marri guide of the verv ruins that now lay before me and of the great block of iron of w’hich Jabir had spoken to me. At Earaja one of his men collected some potsherds and broken glass from a neighbouring patch of the exposed desert floor — ^we also found such things at many spots on our route — and he was told of a well called Umm al Hadid ‘ with a tradition of remains — two large blocks of so-called ironstone — ^whence its name.’ As a piatter of fact the group of three wells known as Umm al Hadid — one of which was actually dug by Sahm our guide in the distant past — ^is only two miles from Faraja. I visited them in due com'se and, finding no trace of any iron, was told that the name of the well was merely
WABAR
161
derived from tie iron at A1 Hadida, which again is tie site of Wabar. It was indeed to the ruins here that Hamad ibn Sultan doubtless referred in speaking to Mr. Thomas of tie ' foundations of a fort once to be seen but now covered over with sand.’ And A1 Hadida lies only 10 miles south-west of Faraja and Umni al Hadid.
So much for tie previous history of the investigation of tie problem of Wabar. Early in my present journey I began to have some sort of idea of wiat I might expect to find. But tie impression conveyed to me — as it had been in 1918 and as Mr. Thomas gathered in 1931 — was definitely one of two sites at some distance apart. I had pricked up my ears when ’Ali, in speaking of the Faraja neighbourhood, had mentioned the wells of Umm al Hadid. That had recalled Jabir's mention of Al Hadida ; and Salim, as the author of one of the three wells, had been called upon to enlighten my curio¬ sity. Yes, he had said, it was many years ago I was in those parts with grazing camels and we dug out the well as the other two were choked, but it is not there that lies the iron. That is half a day to the eastward, perhaps more perhaps less, God kno'ws. It is long since I saw it, but I did see it with these eyes and I could find it again. We used to graze our cattle there in the pastures, but God knows, it may be buried in the sand. Yet I can take you to the place and perchance we may find it. But what will you do with it ? You cannot carry it away. It is very large. How large '? I asked. Well, he replied, it is long since I saw it, but my memory is that it is very large, a great block of iron, perhaps as big as a camel, or smaller a little, or maybe larger. Perhaps, I suggested, we could cut a bit out of it to take away and leave the rest. You could do that, he replied delighted at my intelligence — a favourite theme with him — for So-and-So did take a bit of it and had it fashioned into a knife in the Hasa. Could you find me that knife ? I asked. If So-and-So would sell, I would buy it. God knows, he said, but that was long ago — he may have it yet or he may not. It was from that iron the wells took their name, for it was Sa’id, the father^ of Jabtr whom we saw at Jabrin, who sank the original wells,
^ More probably grandfather, I think.
162 THE EMPTY QUARTER
I have given as nearly as possible the gist of conversations that spread over many days. I had asked him of the ruins of which Jabir had told me. No, he had replied, I saw no ruins— nothing, only the iron. But could you find the place, I asked, if the sands have covered it ? If God wills, I will show you the very spot ; and we can dig to it if the sand is not too deep. And I will reward you, I declared, if you show me the iron itself, but I must see the iron. Suwid and Abu Ja’sha were with us when this talk of rewards took place. How much will you give him ? they asked. I will reward Mm, I said, but how much do you think it is worth ? A lot of money ! said Abu Ja’sha. Yes, a lot of money ! echoed Suwid. '^Well, tell me, I replied, how much do you tMnk ? Would you give Mm 30 dollars (£l iOs.) ? he suggested. That is a lot of money, I urged ; you are greedy of gain, you folk, but it is not worth all that. Say 15 dollars. No, let us say 20. They beamed approval at such a princely offer and w^e closed on that.
And there are ruins too, volunteered Suwid ; I have heard speak of them but I have not been in those parts. Well, I replied, I will give rewards for any ruins you will find me there or elsew'here. They speak of a city, he went on, the city of ’Ad ibn Kin’ad — Obar ! Do you know where it is ? I asked. No, he replied, but ’Ah does. It is a great city he says full of mansions {Qusur)?- So ’Ah was roped into the conversation though I had now to walk warily. The offer of a substantial reward for the city as a whole might have resulted in the disclosure of an isolated hamlet and the concealment of the rest. The best pohcy was a small reward for every separate building and I offered five dollars apiece on that basis. Everybody seemed dehghted except ’Ah. They would dig up the whole desert to make it give up its Mdden secrets for such recompense. But ’Ah had held Ms peace, brooding gloomily. Why share such profits with any one ? He had laid Ms plans before he began to talk freely on the subject and, as far as possible, he kept Ms information for my private ear. I heard through Sa’dan that he and Zayid had expressed resentment at my wholesale offer of reward.
1 The word Qclst (plural Qusur) is used of any kind of mansion.
WABAR
163
Do you know where the ruins are 1 I asked ’AH. Ay, I know, he replied ; it is years hack that I saw them, walls as of castles — he used the plural form ' Al Iqsar,' which by European corruption has given us the Luxor of Eg}^t — and yet a strange sort of walls, all black as if burned wdth fire. God know'S if they be castles indeed, yet they say it w^as the city of ’Ad. If it is not all covered with sand — sometimes the sand covers it all so that nothing can be seen of the ruins, and at others it digs them up. I have seen them, five or four maybe, but there must be many more. And do you know the iron too ? I asked. Only by the description of others, he replied. It is not in the ruins but aw^ay from them, perhaps an hour or more, but God know^s. I only tell you w^hat I have seen. Is it near Umm al Hadid ? I asked. Ay, it is near, not far, he answered cautiousty. If you pray the noon prayer at the castles you may drive the camels to the water by the afternoon prayer. That is as I remember it, but I know the place exactly and will take you there. And, I asked on another occasion, have you heard of or seen any other ruins anyw^here in the sands. There are none but these, he repHed ; I know the desert as w-ell as any other. Take it from me there are none but these.
Such was the contribution of my companions to the problem. At Jabrin a vague tradition of an attack by ’Ad and a ring of forts round the frontier suggested defence against a possible enemy in the south, although the ruins there visible are of too recent date to count towards the solution of the Wabar problem. At Maqainama a deep well obviously not the wmrk of modern Badawin ; a bronze arrowhead ; and the deeply scored tracks of a caravan route : argued a nearer approach to the problem, Bir Eadhil contributed nothing but deep wells, but between there and Tuwairifa the discovery of ancient river-beds had been more than encouraging, if the theory of comparatively recent desiccation could be accepted. Moreover there were plentiful evidences of man in the flint implements found in association with presumably fresh-water shells, and on the buried sites of ancient wells ; while there was no reason to suppose that the men who had used them were not compara-
164
THE EMPTY QUAETER
tively recent denizens of an once prosperous tract. At Ttiwairifa there was again a river-bed with, deep wells and the tell-tale caravan tracks.
But beyond that the sands had closed viciously over any further evidence there might be. And there were no other pegs on which to hang theories than the fables retailed by Yaqut in his fanciful ‘ Wonders of the World/ the Arabian Alghts’ phantasy of the Cobbler Ma’ruf s visit to the Rub' al Elharab (Khali and vague echoes of ’Uj and Kin’ad in such names as ’Aiij^ and Jali’ad.^
Yet we had found two rivers, and there was a third — the most important of all, Wadi Dawasir — still to be discovered. The fact that we had not yet crossed its traces was all to the good. And what more natural than that one of the greatest capitals of prehistoric Arabia should be found on the banks of its greatest prehistoric river ? I had not encouraged myself to think in terms of Petra or Tutankhamon, but my brain had caught the very mood of the shifting sands — always in motion, gentle or violent, as the sea itself — and my dreams these nights were nightmare vistas of long low barrack buildings' whirling round on perpetually radiating gravel rays of a sandy desert, while I took rounds of angles on ever moving objects with a theodolite set on a revolving floor. It was the strangest experience of my life.
And now I was about to draw the veil from the mysteries on which I had pondered so long with all the devotion of a pilgrim setting out for Eleusis or the seat of Jupiter Ammon. x4jid incidentally we must have been within a mile or two of one of the very spots marked by me on the map 14 years before on the strength of Jabir’s bearings and distances. I had wrongly labelled it Jafura and given the name of Wabar on less precise information to the other spot at some distance to the south-west. Yet if I had confined myself to the latter name and to the spot indicated by Jabir as the site of ruins and a block of iron, I should have been entitled to share the credit which must be accorded to the memory of a charming companion. It is certainly rare to get such
1 Burton’s edition, 998tli and 999th. ]SIights. 2 iUdem, 989th Night,
2 ibidem,, 899th Night.
WABAR 165
accuracy from an Arab guide at a distance from the scene described.
For half an hour we marched on over the desolate sands, rather wearily for the wind had gone round again to the south and it was a sultry afternoon. Look ! exclaimed ’AM sud¬ denly, and I had my first glimpse of Wabar — a thin low line of ruins riding upon a wave of the yellow sands. I halted to photograph that memorable, uninspiring scene, which vanished again as we dropped into a shallow depression. Within five minutes we had dismounted in a similar hollow on the fringe of the ruin-field which now lay hidden behind a low rolMng ridge of sand. Leaving my companions to pitch the tents and get our meal ready against sunset, I walked up to the crest of a low mound of the ridge to survey the general scene before dark. We had decided to devote four days to the examinations of the ruins, so I could leave their detailed inspection to the morrow.
I reached the summit and in that moment fathomed the legend of Wabar. I looked dovm not upon the ruins of an ancient city but into the mouth of a volcano, whose twin craters, half filled with drifted sand, lay side by side sur¬ rounded by slag and lava outpoured from the bowels of the earth. That at any rate was the impression that flashed through my mind in that moment. I knew’ not whether to laugh or cry, but I was strangely fascinated b}?' a scene that had shattered the dreamsnf years. So that was Wabar ! A volcano in the desert ! and on it built the story of a city destroyed by fire from heaven for the sins of its King, who had heeded not the warnings of the prophet Hud — generally identified with the bibMcal Heber — and had waxed wanton with his horses and eunuchs and concubines in an earthly paradise until the wrath came upon Mm with the west wind and reduced the scene of Ms riotous pleasure to ashes and desolation 1
One could scarcely have imagined a more sensational solution of the riddle of the Great Sands. And it must be admitted that the two great sand-filled craters, encircled by lofty walls of slag, did bear an absurd resemblance to the tumbled remnants of man-made castles. Many of my com-
J^gg the empty quarter
panioiM «re already on the scene, burrowing
for treasure As I descended the slope towards the first crater/thev came running up to me with lumps of slag and tinv fragments of rusted iron and small shining black pellets, which they took to be the pearls of ’Ad’s ladies blackened in the conflagration that had consumed them with their lord ’ 41i watched me with nervous concern as I picked up and examined fragments of the surrounding slag. The sun was near his setting, and I just had time to make a rapid round of the crater rims before returning to camp to break the
That was enough for the first day, but my companions were disappointed with my verdict. This may mdeed be Wabar, I said, of which the Badawin speak, but it is the work of God not man. These are no castles of the ancients but like the volcanic peaks of the Harra which you have seen doubt¬ less on the way to Mecca, on your right hand as you go up. These mouths are even as the mouths of the Harra thrust up bv the inner fire from the belly of the earth. No, replied ’Ali stoutly, hut they are the castles of ’Ad, son of Kin ad. They are his mansions for sure, and see how the bricks have been burned with fire as they relate ! And what are these but pearls 1 Each of them had indeed already amassed a collec¬ tion of the round black pellets to carry away in their saddle¬ bags to seU for profit. Pear not, I replied, this is certainly the place of which you spoke and you have led me to it, ’Ali, as you promised. And these are the castles of Wabar as jou say. I am content, but take it from me, they were not built of men. And what of Salim ? Has he found the iron of which he told me — ^big as a camel ? I w ent to the very spot, replied Salim himself rather gloomily, but the iron is buried under the sand. If God wills, we will find it to-morrow by digging. God is bounteous, I replied, and, if He wills, you will find it ; but to-morrow I shall go down with the kmels to Ibrahima and we can leave half our number with the tents and baggage to seek out the iron. Let the camels go down early to the water, and I will go later after them when I have seen the castles again and collected samples of the stones and such like.
y
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13. METEORITE CRATER “B" AT WABAR.
T^ext foot to i Having | no other walked h inspectio of the b€ ently un' affected " I then from the fair-sized bedrock extremit west anc 'while th< and sout meter ar rim on t the gap of debr distane them, to a ce which I charact Thei lay on beyond towards fringe c crater w take a s« inner fri
across t
formed
iiaijull
WABAR
167
Next morning I was up betimes to cast round tbe scene on foot to a distance of about a mile from the two craters. Having got far enough to satisfy myself that there were no other craters or signs of them beyond the main area I walked back over the rolling sand downs, making a minute inspection of every nook and cranny until I came to a patch of the bedrock. It was of a dazzling whiteness and appar¬ ently unburned, though it was broken up and presumably affected by the heat in its vicinity.
I then ascended a sand ridge that separated this patch from the beginnings of the crater area. From there I saw a fair-sized patch of mixed siag-like fragments and broken up bedrock about 200 paces southward of the raised NW. extremity of the larger vent (Crater B — see plan). To south¬ west and west of the same point lay another similar patch, while the crater itself, with higher walls on its north-west and south sides than elsewhere, measured 120 paces in dia¬ meter and 412 in circumference. A section of the circular rim on the north side was missing, however— the length of the gap so formed being 52 paces, — while two small patches of debris lay respectively ^W. and NE. of this gap at a distance of 65 paces with an interval of 110 paces between them. The mouth of this crater sloped down from all sides to a central depression, though the thickness of the sand which had drifted into it made it impossible to ascertain the character of the actual floor.
The centre of the second and smaller crater (A — see plan) lay on a bearing of 313° (in a straight line with our tents beyond it) from the NW. corner of Crater B. Walking towards it I measured 140 paces to the edge of its outer fringe of slag, whose width on a gentle slope to the lip of the crater was 50 paces. Bearing slightly to the right at 345° to take a section over the central line of this crater I found an inner fringe of slag 10 paces wide whence it was 55 paces (including a narrow inner fringe of slag on the other side) across the mouth to the further lip, beyond which lay a glacis of slag to a width of 43 paces. The rim of this crater formed a more or less perfect circle with walls of uniform height all round. Close by the last point, at distances vary-
168
THE EMPTY QUARTER
ing from 20 to 50 paces, were small patches of slag and bedrock fragments to south-west and west, while at 190 paces to the north-west was a similar but larger patch. This looked as if it might have emanated from a third crater (D — see plan), which was, however — if it is there at all — com¬ pletely obliterated by a sandridge some 20 feet high. A fourth possible crater (C) appeared to underlie the hillock from which I had first surveyed the scene. At any rate small patches of slag fragments were to be seen protruding from under its skirts at various places. And finally there was a suggestion of yet another crater (E) similarly buried under an extensive mound of sand.
Thus in a couple of hours I had gained a fairly complete impression of all there was to see at Wabar, although I left the actual mapping of the area to a later occasion. I had also collected a fairly wide range of specimens of the slag and other debris ranging from pieces the size of a man’s head to little bombs of fused stuff and the still smaller 'pearls.’ For the time being, therefore, I was free to go off on the projected expedition to Ibrahima, in the course of which I looked forward to touching and crossing Mr. Thomas’ route of the previous year.
At first we marched north-east — my companions being Zayid, ’Ali, Salih and Ibn Musainid, with whom was the dog, which, by reason of his intimacy with the affairs of the kitchen, had long since adopted him as her guide, philosopher and food-provider — along the indeterminate boundary separ¬ ating the bare gently rolling downs of Tara’iz on the west from the bare gently rolhng downs of Sanam proper on the east. After about half an hour’s marching we passed by a conspicuous conical sandhill known as Qauz al Ishara, which is the Badawin’s guide to Wabar — or Al Hadida as they call it, for they do not, of course, use the ancient name in common parlance. From this landmark onwards Sanam extended — a dreary sand waste with scanty scattered shrubs. In nearly three hours from the ' ruins ’ we came to Faraja, our course bending round more to eastward as ’Ali found the necessary clues to the direction of the watering in circumstances that made it astonishing that anybody could find anything at all
WABAR
169
wliich was not exactly like everytMng else in that desolation. The only sign of life on the whole of this march had been a single Bifasciated Lark, whose piping aiinoniiced its pre¬ sence long before I could detect it tripping along the ground out of our way. In all these bare districts the desert birds seldom seem to take to their wings, generally preferring to run along the ground which provides them vith almost perfect protection from birds of prey. A flying bird is often betrayed by its dark shadow on the ground.
The single well of Faraja, which normally has water at a depth of 10 fathoms, was out of action. Its shaft was com¬ pletely filled in with sand, which was thus convicted of having done its work of destruction within the short space of less than a year. Only the merest dip within the slight!}- raised well- rim showed where it was in the typical dung-littered depres¬ sion of a howling wilderness. This well is attributed, as its name suggests, to a man named Taraj of the ’Uwair Ghafran, the section of Ibn Jaliab, the premier chief of the Ghafran group, who resides for the most part in the Qatar promontory as the guest and protege of its ruling Shaikh, 'Abdullah ibn Thani. Mr. Thomas had camped near here and his men had drawn water from the well, while Zayid and his company had used it subsequently, but since then no grazing Arabs had visited the scene owing to the drought in these parts, and we found nothing of interest but date-stones, fragments of leather and a few bits of rock extruded JErom the shaft in the course of its periodic clearances.
There was nothing to detain us here, and we passed on over the bare downs to Umm al Hadid only two miles distant to the north-north- west. In an extensive depression of sand with a litter of gravel in parts the three wells are situated at the points of a small equilateral triangle. As already stated one of them had been dug by Salim many years before this, while the other two were the work of Sa'id ibn Fasl more than a generation earlier. All were now equally dead though not entirely buried, for their months stood out prominentiy from the sand with a showing of rock and stratified masses of camel dung hardened by age. The depth to water was 10 fathoms as at Faraja, which incidentally the
170
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Bada^iii pronounce more like Erija. Salik stalked a few small birds round the wells, while the others had tracked a fox to its earth in the earthy mound of one of them and vain to extricate him. Meanwhile I busied myself collecting Mantids and samples of the rock and gravel. I found also the relics of Badawin meals of olden times— a gazelle horn {Rim) and bones of the Oryx {Wudhaihi).^
Continuing our march now^ in an ENE. direction, we came very soon to an exposed patch of the underlying rock of somewhat curious character. It looked like fragments of w^eathered limestone of various sizes hollowed out by the dissolution of some of its constituents into the semblance of shells. We now hastened on at a trot under the hot after¬ noon sun, scarcely tempered by light southerly airs, while A1 Aqfa kept pace with us, lolloping along in the shadow of Ibii Musainid’s camel. As we approached the watering the sand dowms began to be less bare, and in parts had a satis¬ factory covering of bushes w^hich promised w^ell for the camels after they had had their drink. That was all to the good, for ’Ali now reckoned on a long waterless, pastureless stage before us when w^e should leave Wabar to march south. We should not apparently come to good pastures before Ain Sala or Naifa, in whose neighbourhood there had been a little rain about two years back.
In due course we arrived before a charming, fairly exten¬ sive, oval patch of gravel— like a lake surrounded by the rolling, bush-covered downs of sand — ^in which lay the wells of Ibrahima wuth our camels in a group by the side of the most southerly shaft, which had been opened up by Suwdd and the two herdsmen for their refreshment. They had just completed the operation as we arrived and Suwid, riding his camel to and fro harnessed to the bucket-rope, drew for our animals. It was their sixth day since watering at Bir Eadhil
^ The Arabian Oryx is Leucoryx (also called Beatrix). The Arabs also call it Baqr al Wahsh (the wild cow), but I do not know the name Baqr Bamolahy to which my attention has been drawn by Sir Percy Cox who heard it in Oman. The name Rim is applied throughout Arabia only to the White Gazelle — never to the Oryx. Other local specific names for gazelles (of darker colouring) are Idmi and ^Afri. The generic name for gazelles as a whole is Dhabi (rarely Ghazal).
WABAR
171
and tlie intervening pastures liad been very dry ; so they drank gratefully and greedily before being marched off to the downs to feed to their heart's content on the comparatively excellent pastures of this locality.
We ourselves settled down for a pleasant picnic without tents or other paraphernalia ; and Salih, foraging among the pastures, brought in some green sprigs of the Abal which, cooked with rice to make a dish called 3IaJ:iIca^ by the Manasir, made a tolerable substitute for fresh vegetables rather tasteless but in no way disagreeable. It is curious that the Murra do not ordinarily know this use of the AbaL
The well we used had w^ater at 10 fathoms, the stuff being compared by h41i with that of Birkan, accounted good for drinking. I did not taste it for I wms still on my w^aterless regime, but I used the water for a good wash and it seemed to be richly flavoured with the urine of camels.
I had brought my theodolite and disposed of the requisite star observations before dinner. But otherwise I had treated this excursion as a holiday jaunt and was able to get in a long night’s sleep for the first time since leaving Hufuf. A hawk-moth (of the Striped Haw’k type) flashed round the camp-fire and my lamp but I failed to annex it to my collec¬ tion, though I secured a few other moths w^hile reading the London newspapers I had received at Hufuf and left unread till now on account of the pressure of other work. The latest paper bore the date of November 29th and I wondered, as I extinguished my lamp and lay down to sleep, how I should find the wmrld when I again returned to its news. At the moment it seemed very far away— very far— and I was really tired from the strain of nearly a month’s wanderings without any respite from the necessity of constant attention to the business in hand — especially during the night hours, which alone during Bamdhmi were available for the writing up of notes and the packing and labelling of collected stuff.
However, I now made up for such arrears of sleep, slum¬ bering under the stars from 9.30 p.m. till 4.30 a.m., when I was w^oken for supper. The night had been dewless and the morning broke mild and still. I felt wonderfully refreshed
^ Pronotmced Machicha,
172 THE EMPTY QUARTER
and ready for the day’s task, which I began with a vigorous round-up of desert Mantids on the gravel— I never saw as many elsewhere as here. I also picked up a worn marine fossil embedded in a pebble fragment and examined the buried sites of the numerous well shafts. ’AH did not know how many there might be, but I counted six, three of which seemed from the famihar raised circuits of dung mould to he comparatively recent. There w^ere probably others I did not see, but the one we had used appeared to be the only one in active commission.
Meanw'hile my companions again w'atered the camels which were driven in from the morning pasturing in excellent fettle. And at 8 a.m. we regretfully left the most charming site we had yet struck for camping. Suwid was loud in praise of its pasture as w^e rose out of the basin to ride on a compass course set by myself due south. After nearly three hours on that bearing I turned due west in the direction of Wabar, and my companions amused themselves testing my sense of locality. I came through the ordeal well enough, but there was a chorus of admiration when at length we saw the cone of Qauz al Ishara straight ahead of us. SaUh went into raptures over the advantages of a compass, and the rest were impressed, for it had irked them to be marching at my dicta¬ tion towards nothing. They would have preferred to make a bee-Mne back to the ‘ ruins.’
On the southward tack I had myself set ’Ali a problem. You know, I said, that on this bearing we should cross the last year’s tracks of Hamad ibn Sultan and the Christian. Can jou find them ? You know both Turaiqa and Earaja and should be able to tell me when we cross their route. In due course we saw a domed ridge of sand, which ’Ali named Al Qasima, the pasture-divide between the two wells. We marched on a little and ’x4h stopped. Y/e are now, he said, on the fine between the wells but the sand has covered the tracks. He cast about, however, and suddenly pointed to something on our right. Do you see, he asked, the dung of their camels ? We turned aside to investigate, and there were a few pellets half buried in the sand. But how can you identify that stuff ? I asked. It may be of some grazing
WABAR
173
camel. Ko, not tiiatj lie answered. We know dung as we know tracks and other things. Look at these pellets — he had dismounted to examine them and handed me a handful — they are small and hard, not the rich large stuff of animals at the pasture. The camel that dropped these had come a long journey and thirsting. And they are of a year hack, but God knows.
The evidence seemed satisfactory enough, and I added some of the pellets to my collection of desert curios. We saw also the tracks of a wild cat^ that had passed this way only the previous night, and we came upon a migrant hoopoe, which gave me a thrill like the swallow^ of the Numaila sands. Salih fired at it with my gun after some elaborate stalking— only to hasten its passage. A raven’s nest and another small nest were other diversions of the day’s march, which proved somewhat tiring as the morning advanced and w^e passed beyond the area of good pastures into very bare country, which reflected the sun’s rays with a soft but bhnding sheen. Near the end of the march we came upon fresh tracks of bustard and ’Ali, following them up with my gun, brought back the only specimen of the bird to be secured during ali our wanderings. We saw them and their tracks quite fre¬ quently, but the bustard is a difficult bird to approach unless one has plenty of time to spare for the necessary circumam- bulation of its hiding place.
From the conical landmark I put my camel to a swinging trot and was glad enough to get to my tent in time for an afternoon nap, for the southern breeze had made me drowsy and the air was sultry though the temperature was only 80°. Have you found the iron ? I shouted to my welcoming companions as I rode in^ — the iron as big as a camel 1 No, they answered gloomily ; we found it not though we have sought it everywhere since you left. But Zaid (the cook) found a small piece of iron over yonder under a bush of Bimdh. Salim says it is not the iron of which he spoke, so we left it there. It is heavy. Well, I replied, we must find the
1 Identified by Captain J. G. Dollman of the British Museum as Felu ocreata from a skull found by me north of Shanna. The Badawin call it Hirra (Murra) and Atfa^ (Manasir), whfie the Desert Fox (? Feanec) is ca.l|ed Tha'lf Tha^lab or Hiisni (Ahul Stcsain).
174 THE EMPTY QUARTER
big iron if we stay here four days for it. But bring me the
small piece too.
Ill due course it was brouglit before me, a lump of iron about the size of a rabbit — Pd-TtuTiuut Tuoutcs ! and very heavv for its size,^ somewhat rusted and brittle on the sur¬ face/ I assumed that it was a meteorite, and I cannot but think that it may have been, after all, the famous piece which distance and defective memory had magnified to the dimen¬ sions of a camel. At the same time it is by no means im¬ possible or even improbable that a much larger fragment lies buried somewhere in those sands. If so, we failed to find it in spite of a special effort on the following day when the whole of our party turned out to the spot indicated by Salim — a gentle slope of sand southward of the larger crater — and proceeded to sound the depths with sticks or by stamping on the ground. Nowhere could we detect any sign of a hidden foreign body, and it would probably require the use of mag¬ netic instruments to do so under existing conditions. I decided that it was not worth while to waste more time over the thing and it was agreed that we should march on the morrow.
By a curious coincidence the issue of the Geographical Journal — ^the only one I had with me — containing the text of Mr. Thomas’ lecture and his map happened also to con¬ tain an article on a supposedly meteoritic crater at Bosumtwi in Ashanti. That led me to note in my journal that the ' volcanic ’ craters of Wabar were ' perhaps depressions created by the fall of meteorites.’ I did not then, of course, know how few and rare are the known meteorite craters of the world — perhaps only four or five in all— -and I little guessed the interest that such a discovery in the Arabian desert would occasion in the small circle of experts competent to deal with such matters. Still less did I guess that the very same issue of the Geographical Journal, to which I have referred, had, in connection with Mr. Thomas’ lecture, a note by Mr. W. Campbell Smith, in which mention was actually made of what may well prove to be a sister fragment of the Wabar meteorite — perhaps, indeed, the original 'camel’ — ^ Its weight is 25 lb. and its dimeasions 10 by 6 by 5 inches.
(b) END OF (a) CUT AND POLISHED TO SHOW ETCHED EFFECT OF THE NICKELIFEROUS IRON.
(19/1 8ths of actual size.)
To face page 17
wMch has "beei years !
So far as I w giant iron was < task to my succ not be deterred embarking npo Arabia. I bad human antiqni guided me so f Mkely locality k ing, I concludec I was yet to do desert, that th found anywhei further conclus: widest sense ha: occupation — ot anterior to the desiccation mu£ ceased to flow, when the retre climate of the e and the Libya Central Asia. ] the memory of rivers — ^but th< built the first 1
What then o concerned it is { the site that ga tained in the fi That the grea
1 Miss G. Caton ments collected by that they are all o to Palaeolithic or I? logy she equates tl Libyan Desert. I: would seem that tl beginnings of the €
175
WABAR
•wMch has been in the British Museum for all hut fifty
years !
So far as I was concerned tlie search for Wahar and the giant iron was over. I could now honourably bequeath the task to my successors — to younger men or women who may not be deterred by my barren search for the fabled ruins from embarking upon similar enterprises in the great sands of Arabia. I had satisfied myself that there was no vestige of human antiquity among the ‘ castles ’ to which ’AM had guided me so faithfully and successfully ; and, if the only likely locaMty known to my guides had proved so disappoint¬ ing, I concluded as the result of my researches up-to-date, as I was yet to do from my subsequent experience of the great desert, that there is Mttle likelihood of ancient ruins being found anywhere in the Rub^ al Kliali. I think that the further conclusion is justified that the Empty Quarter in its widest sense has in all probability been unsuitable for human occupation — otherwise than by nomads since a time long anterior to the beginnings of civilisation. The process of desiccation must have begun, and the great rivers must have ceased to flow, before the dawn of serious history perhaps when the retreating ice-cap of the Pleistocene changed the climate of the earth’s middle belt, stretching from the Sahara and the Libyan Desert across Arabia into the deserts of Central Asia. In the flints^ and shells of those times we have the memory of men inhabiting a land made fair by flowing xiyeTS — ^but they were the remote ancestors of those that built the first houses of which we have any cognisance.
What then of the legend ? So far as the Rub‘ al Khali is concerned it is a myth and no more. We must seek elsewhere the site that gave rise to it, and perhaps the clue to it is con¬ tained in the first line of the ballad that opens this chapter. That the great King ’Ad existed once upon a time can
1 Miss G. Caton-Thompson, who has kindly examined the flint ments collected by me at various localities in the Bub‘ al Khali, is satisfied that they are all of Neohthic type and that none of them can be ascribed to Palaeolithic or Mesolithic times. As a rough guide to prehistoric ciurono- logy she equates the end of the Neolithic period with circa 5000 b^. m the Libyan Desert. If we assume similar conditions m the Arabian Desert it would seem that the flowing rivers of the Rub‘ al Khali lasted almost to the beginnings of the earhest known civilisations (Egypt and Mesopotamia).
176
THE EBIPTY QUARTER
scarcely be doubted. His terrible fate is mentioned more than once in the Qitran. Its memory may have been comparatively fresh, therefore, in the seventh century a.d. The corresponding disaster to the Thamudites of Madain SaMh has a historical basis in the collapse of the Nabataean Power, and there is little reason to suppose that the ’Adites were a fiction of early imagination. It is apparently not known for certain who they were or where they lived, though it is generally supposed that they belonged to some part of Southern Arabia — the Yaman or Hadhramaut — whose ruins have not yet been exhaustively excavated or studied,^ The spade may yet disclose the identity and history of ’Ad,^ and it is natural enough that the required evidence should be sought in the first place somewhere between Shihr (i.e. Hadhramaut) and San’a, the capital of Yaman. Ya’qut places Wabar in that neighbourhood, and his sources doubt¬ less derived their information (much of it absurd and purely fabulous) from earlier memories which doubtless go back to historical fact^.
If, therefore, the poem which I have quoted is to be our guide and Yaman the scene of our researches, we must seek a locality named Qariya with a ruinfield to the west of it. I can only suggest that such a place is ready to our hand in a still unvisited locality on the road between Sulaiyil and Najran, whose rivers, Habauna and Najran, may well have watered the fringes of the desert eastward of the present limits of their oases within historical times. The name of the locality is suggestive enough — Qariyat al Jahiliyin, Qariya of the ancients or simply 'the village of the ancients.’ The name suggests, like the poem, that Qariya and the ruins of Wabar are contiguous or near to each other — to-day the former is a desert well on the way to Najran and I could get no information regarding ruins. The neighbouring wells of
^ Dr. Carl Rathjens of Hamburg has now for some time been engaged in archaeological work in the Yaman, and his results will be awaited with
great interest.
® Reference should be made to a recent work by D. Van der Menlen and H. von Wissmann, entitled Hadramaut (Leyden, 1932). On pp. 56 et seq, will be found an account of ruins locally Imown as Bar ’Ad and ‘ dating probably from Sabaean times,’
WABAR
177
’Uwaifara may, however, be suggested as a possible site for Wabar itself, which be no more than a classical or literary corruption, as I^Ir. Thomas suggests,^ of Ophir the land of gold, apes and peacocks ! In its proper Arabic form the name •would be ’Afar, of which ’Uwaifara is but a correctly formed diminutive. The Greeks would have transcribed it o(pap, which is Ofar or OpMr in our pronunciation. And finally in this locality we do certainly get nearer to country which still produces both gold and apes and jungle-fowl, if not peacocks — the granite massif of the Hijaz mountains within the seasonal rain-belt of the Indian monsoon.
If, however, the Yaman be not the scene of ’Ad’s magni¬ ficence, there is yet another locality vrhich might be probed with interesting results. Eastern Arabia, less well-known than the southern provinces, was nevertheless apparently the scene of an ancient civiKsation. The Tumuli of Bahrain are well-known, and antiquities have been unearthed at the neighbouring island of Darin {? Darain, the twin palaces), •while there are numerous ruins — ancient springs and irriga¬ tion channels and so forth — on the mainland between the Hasa and Kuwait, to-day a barren wilderness with scattered desert •wells frequented onlj by grazing Badawin. Two of these wells indeed have names that startle — Qariya with Wabra to west of it ! Who shall say that they played no part in the history of the ’Adites ?
Such speculations, however, only dawned upon me slowly after my disappointment in the Rub‘ al Khali itself, I must now return to my lump of iron, which with the other material collected from Wabar was in due course handed over to the Wahhabi Edng and by him presented to the British Museum. Dr. L. J. Spencer, the Keeper of the Mneral Department, had no difficulty in determining the character of the finds.
The metal is, as I supposed, a fragment of meteoritic iron and the slag-like material is siMca-glass or sand fused by the heat of the falling meteorite, the greater part of which must have evaporated at the stupendous temperature generated by its impact on the earth. Nothing was left of it but a few odd fragments which cooled rapidly enough to survive as ^ Arabia Felix, p. 163.
M
178 THE EMPTY QUARTER
evidence of tie manner in wMcli the craters were formed. My material has proved to be a valuable contribution to the study of such phenomena, but the technical side of it must be left for Dr. Spencer^ himself to deal vdth. By examination of the fragment of meteoritic iron already referred to, which has been in the British Museum since its purchase from a dealer in 1885, he has come to the tentative conclusion that the two fragments are of so closely similar composition that they may well have formed part of the same meteoritic mass. And the probability of the older specimen having come from the so-caEed Wabar of the Rub‘ al Khali is reinforced by its curious, somewhat vague and suspect history.
In 1885 the Nejed Meteorite, as it is labelled, was offered to and purchased by the Museum authorities. The vendor was a dealer resident at Bushire, who supplied the information that in the spring of 1863 some Arabs encamped in ‘ Wadi Bani Khalid ' had actually seen the meteorite fall during a thunderstorm and had subsequently picked it up or dug it out of the ground. The vendor had actually received it, pre¬ sumably for a consideration, from a man called Shaikh Khalaflbn Tsa,^ who had apparently witnessed the fall. He had given the above particulars and was still ahve at Hudaida in 1884.
Apart from the thunderstorm, which might have been an accidental concomitant of the fall, there was nothing espec¬ ially suspicious about this story. It did, however, arouse suspicion in somewhat curious circumstances six or seven years later. In 1892 another similar fragment of meteoritic iron, and of approximately the same weight — ^the two were respectively 131 and 137 lb. and so considerably larger than mine, — ^was offered for sale to the British Museum with rather more detail of information regarding its discovery. Unfor¬ tunately only the English translation of the accompanying letter of explanation is extant, and certain possible emenda¬ tions of the text have to be taken into account in considering the matter. This fragment was also said to have been ob¬ served as it fell during a thunderstorm in the previous year (1308 A.H. = 1890-91 A.D.) in ^ Wadi Bani Khalid' It was then
^ See Appendix. * Possibly a member of the ruling family of Bahrain.
WABAR
179
i.
le
St
)n
ill
a
at
iS.
m
ts
to
as
3n
di
a
at
e-
le
at
an
JC-
ise
en
tic
ire
an
ler
3r-
ng
la-
iig
)b-
jar
ten
dug out of tlie eartli and forwarded by a certain Bin Kakiiad bin Sbaikb-el-Hurra to Shaikb Nasir bin Rasiiid, who in turn forwarded it via Q.atif to Haji Abniad Khan, who passed it on to the dealer. The Museum refused the specimen on account of its plainly suspect provenance, and it ultimately found its way to America.^ There was now, however, good reason to doubt the details of the 1863 story, but there was no means of probing it to its foundations, and the matter rested there until the arrival of my meteorite this year.
I have carefully considered the correspondence and am entirely unable to suggest any identification for the ^ M adi Bani Khalid ’ locality. It may well have meant no more than ‘ in the territory of the Bani Khalid tribe,' which evidently means Eastern Arabia and may have been used vaguely of the Hasa province in its widest sense, ^ which in 1863 wms under Wahhabi rule and in 1891 in Turkish occupation. It struck me, however, at once that the name of the forwarder of the 1891 specimen offered interesting possibilities. It gave the man’s surname with the additional information that he was the son (or nephew or grandson) of the Shaikh of a tribe or place called Hurra. I strong!}^ suspect that the name should be Murra — it would not be difficult for a stranger unfamiliar with the tribes of Arabia to misread the Arabic M or for the unaspirated H or it. If that be so, can we identify anyone of the surname of Bin Nakhad among the Shaikhs of the Murra tribe ? I think so if we may again assume the possibility of a corrupt reading of an Arabic letter by an unfamiliar stranger ; and I find in my more or less exhaustive list of all the groups, sections and chiefs of the Murra that the leading Shaikh of the Jarraba group, to which belongs the excavator of the two original wells of Umm al Hadid (1), is Hamad ibn Kahhab. The two surnames^ are too near and the circumstances too
^ Field Museum of Xatural History, Chicago.
2 Including the Eub‘ al Khali.
® The two names in Arabic characters would be : —
o Cj} drj
and , * ,
Cj} Cj)
nn.
ISO THE EMPTY QUARTER
suspicious to leave me in any further doubt that the man who procured the 1891 meteorite from the same spot that had jdelded its predecessor procured it from the craters of A1 iladida, from which the Umm al Hadid wells, dug by a mem¬ ber of the same family, derived their name.
The transaction had doubtless been profitable for the Marri, and it is perhaps not strange that his fellow tribesmen should have magnified the dimensions of such golden metal. But the camel had now been squeezed through the eye of a needle, and fragments of it had found their way to England and America long before I discovered their source and the secret of Wabar.
Rzdge. 2S hi^h
CypsiJJ7i‘
Expla.n ait-i o n A B Eocposed/ craters C D SuifTner^ed’ craters^
B H&putedi site 0^ hzr^e irom block 4’^^! Patches of slag
Sojid' dunes
This is away yon^
We were ^ parched pa scription oJ the mornin, of the exp^ now centre desert. Bi frontier we The pre'^ on the groi there was pleasantly as we mad 'Ain Sala.
It is sti potential ] not found kept this 1 locality an piece we h covery by kept the n mised wer impolitic occasion ^ My pari the guides them up.
CHAPTER IV
BITTER WATERS
This is A1 Ramla, but the Bub‘ al KhaU— the Eub‘ al Khah is away yonder till you come to the mountains, the black mountains !
We were yet to spend many days among the wells and parched pastures of Al Rimal, but the above was ’All’s de¬ scription of the situation as we rode away from Wabar on the morning of February 6th. Tw’o of the specific objectives of the expedition had been disposed of and our thoughts now centred on' the third — the crossing of the waterless desert. But first we must go down to Shanna, visiting the frontier wells of the pasture lands.
The previous morning at Wabar I had found a heavy dew on the ground— the first recorded by me for some days— but there was none this morning, and the atmosphere was pleasantly mild in spite of a raw, fairly strong north wind as we made an early start on the longish waterless stage to ‘Ain Sala.
It is strange that my companions had no idea of the potential pecuniary value of the great iron which we had not found. Doubtless the home tribe — the Jarraba had kept this knowledge to itself lest others might prospect the locality and deprive it of possible future windfalls. And the piece we had found had doubtless lain unseen since its dis¬ covery by the wind owing to the long drought which had kept the nomads at a safe distance. The rewards I had pro¬ mised were not claimed and, satisfied as I was, I deemed it impolitic to pay them at the moment. A more suitable occasion would present itself later on.
My party was thus somewhat depressed by the failure of the guides to make good their early boasting and, to cheer them up, I suggested to H'umaid, who had hitherto been
181
182 THE EMPTY QUARTER
mtliout poetic inspiration, that he should compose a baUad on the u-onders of Wabar and the sacks of black pearls which had rewarded their searching. Many weeks later these were going the round of the dealers of Mecca with disappointment in their train and my companions, distressed bv the collapse of their dreams of wealth, had to be content with their earnings. Eor three months of really strenuous work they got an average of L8 or LlO apiece— enough under their conditions of existence to procure a wife withal but not enough to buy a pedigree camel.
For the moment there was nothing for it but to set our¬ selves to the task in hand and make as much progress as possible amid surroundings as dull, monotonous and dreary as may be imagined. A pair of ravens occupied our deserted camp — ^it was here that we left behind the results of our unsuccessful pickUng, — and a hght film of sand swept un¬ ceasingly over the face of the earth around us. The gently billowing desert was as a haze of steam rising from a vast, simmering cauldron. And, when the wind dropped, the soft, silky sheen of the sands struck painfully up at our eyes.
Apart from a sparse sprinkhng of Ahal the landscape was very bare with only an occasional hummock of sand to break the flatness of the picture. As I stood on one of these for a general view I found it almost impossible to maintain my position against the sheets of blowing sand which enveloped me in their tiresome eddies. Till mid-aftemoon we marched still in Sanam with but an hour’s break to rest.
Then the scene underwent an abrupt change as we passed into the district of Majari Tasrat, so-called from the well of TasraU a day’s march to eastward, which is reported to have sweet water at eight fathoms. Parallel to our course on the right and beyond the limits of our vision lay the dune ranges of Hibaka with the valleys of Shuqqan al Birkan (already noticed in Sa’afij) beyond them and the sands of Bani Zainan to their southward. The Tasrat tract is itself a broad band of alternating ridges and valleys l5dng roughly east and west. In one of the latter we camped that first night, to resume our march at 7 a.m. imder rather depressing ^ Beyond Tasrat eastward is tlie well of XJmm al Qarain.
183
BITTER WATERS
conditions. A light, clammy northern breeze gently fanned a thick damp mist, out of which a very pale sun climbed feebly into the sky. Until well past mid-day visibility was seriously limited by the haze, but it mattered httle. There was nothing to see that was different from what lay before our noses — a gradual crescendo of deeper and ever deeper valleys with correspondingly higher ridges as we advanced southward. The baggage train had been sent on two hours or more ahead of us but its tracks had already been obhterated by the driving sand. Here and there a patch of Abal bushes showed up like a fence on the higher levels, while at the foot of one ridge the thinnest imaginable line of green Andab grass created a veritable sensation. Two years ago they reported rain from these parts, said ’Ali, and look ! the first signs of its fruit ! Maybe there is life ahead. His hopes were not altogether fulfiUed by our experience but some of the later valleys did look rather better.
We halted in one of them for a brief space at mid-day to let the camels feed on the Abal, which had now bepn to be deco¬ rated with the characteristic pink tassels that give the shrub so jaunty an appearance in springtime. This valley was the first of a series similar to those of T asrat but named Maj ari^ Ma shiya from the wateiing of that name at a day s journey or less to the eastward with briny but potable water at 11 fathoms. Beyond it to the east lies the watering of Manjurat^ al Hadi near Mr. Thomas’ route and named after the famous grand¬ father or more remote ancestor of his Marri guide. Another desert plant that now reappeared for the first time since our passage out of Jafura was the Alqa, green and already put¬ ting forth its tiny yellow blossoms. A few Desert Warblers were seen in these parts and some solitary locusts had been noted, but I was not prepared to see a butterfly. At fimt I thought the sudden flash of brown was an optical illusion, but I soon discovered that it was not. I may have seen a score or more of them thereafter during a month’s wanderings m
^ Majari (plural of Majra) means ‘‘ channels.”
* Manjura means “ carved out ” from the root Najar (carpentering). The name Miniyur, given hy Mr. Thomas for another locality, is more pro¬ perly Manjur pronounced mth the typical softenmg of the J.
184
THE EaiPTY QUARTER
tMs tract of the sands, but I only captured the very last I encountered on the fringes of the waterless desert in Band Zainan. I hoped that a butterfly — apparently the only^ one of the Rub' al EJiali, though I thought on several occasions that I saw another, a species of the Skipper family — in such a locality would be new to science, and many were the frantic efforts I made to secure a specimen ; but it proved to be a known species^ after all.
This was the 29th day of Mamdhan, the last day of our fasting according to the calendar, and we fondly hoped as we camped in the next ridge-and-vaUey tract of Khillat Judair that we would awake next morning to normal hfe. The blustering north-east wind that had accompanied us all day dropped altogether at sunset, when all eyes were turned eagerly towards the western sky to seek the " better moon.’ The haze, how^ever, defeated us, although Sa’d al Washmi claimed to have seen it and one or two others thought they had glimpsed the crescent. There is very httle doubt that in all these cases the wish was father to the thought, and no one really took Sa’d’s claim seriously. He disliked fasting too actively and too obviously to be a reliable witness. Never¬ theless there arose a hubbub of argument and rasping wrangling as to whether the fast should be prolonged for a thirtieth day or the morrow be treated as the 'Id of the feast. I announced my intention of completing the thirty days and Ibn Ma’addi, our spiritual guide, who with Suwid, Abu Ja’sha and myself had kept the fast without a break, ^ concurred. Most of the others followed suit, while a few decided to compromise by ' travelling ’ next day and only the disgruntled three were left to celebrate the feast.
Ear into the night, as I sat aloof at my work in my own tent, I heard snatches of their continued wrangling — ^raucous,
^ I saw also one Painted. Lady a few days later near Haifa.
* Identified by Mr. H. D, Kiiley of tbe British. Museum as Apharitis gilUUi, a species which occurs in Somaliland but was not previously known from Arabia, in various parts of which from Aden to Syria and ’Iraq^ the genus has hitherto been represented only by A, acamas.
» Salim and Ibn Humaiyid had only missed the ‘ day of the fog,’ while Hasan also lost that day and compromised by ‘ travelling ’ on the 30th day.
BITTER WATERS
185
ranting, evil-minded talk, freely interlarded with mutual accusations of infidelity and irreligiond The guiltier the conscience, the louder its protesting. On the whole the party had not distinguished itself during the month’s ordeal. Apart from the four and a few others who had failed only on the ' day of the fog ’ the rest had ended up with greater or lesser debts to pay with Za}ud, who had set a thoroughly bad example, and Sa’dan as easily the worst delinquents. In some aspects Islam is indeed an easygoing faith, leaving much to the individual conscience, with the result that those of bad faith get the better of the deal over their fellows — at least in this world.
Judair is a briny waterhoie only two or three feet in depth about a day’s march from our camp. It is considered un- potable for human beings but is poured out to the grazing camels. The Elhilia or ' empty region ’ is so-called because it is innocent of Hadh, the characteristic pasture shrub of the south. The undulations of ridge and valley in this tract were steeper than those of the preceding dis¬ tricts, The slopes of the long dune ranges rose gradually from the north to a crest, from which there was almost always a steep drop into the valley beyond, generally of soft sand which necessitated careful attention on the part of the rider, as camels with all their experience have failed to develop grace in descending a sand cliff and prefer the head¬ long descent to the abyss in short, sharp, lurching leaps. On one such slope Zayid took a perfect toss from his precarious Haulani saddle, and on another Earraj strained Ms back with a similar accident. I managed to survive all risks by exer¬ cising a carefulness forced on me by constant anxiety for my instruments, wMch fortunately survived the three months of our wanderings without noticeable harm.
From Wabar (767 feet) we had ascended very gradually on a more or less southward course, but from the next tract — Hadh Earis, so-called from a watering to the eastward halfway between our route and Buwah — ^we began a slight descent to about the same level as Wabar near Bani
^ To fast for safety on the feast day is, if anything, a worse ofience than feasting on a fast day.
186 THE EMPTY QUARTER
JaUab (730 feet), whence we dropped to 'Ain Sala (527 feet), bevond which to Haifa and Ziqirt the same lower level was maintained until we rose again towards Shanna.
Hadh Paris provided more variety of vegetation and more life than any tract since Wabar for, in addition to the tassel- led Abal, there was a good deal of Hadh and Alqa, all fairly fresh. Two pairs of ravens were observed, the second in the neighbourhood of a newly built but eggless nest to which, after an initial flight, the hen bird returned rather boldly and unnecessarily only to be shot by Salih with my gun. The cock with hoarse cries of anger and distress intervened bravely to protect his wounded mate, and we rode on leaving SaMh to deal with the pair. He eventually brought along the hen, now dead, leaving the disappointed widower to seek another mate, if he could find one unattached in that wilderness. Ravens, Bifasciated Larks and Desert Warblers had now come to be recognised by me as the commonest creatures in these regions, but a dragonfly was something of a surprise^ — and not only one but three during this day’s march and other specimens, of which I duly bagged a few, on the following days. They were all of the same species — a large dull bluish type already seen at Jabrin and in the Hasa — and I w^ondered whether they could be regarded as true denizens of the sands. If so, do they dispense with water in the larval stage or do they make do with the shallow, briny pools of A1 Khiran ?
As we went south the dune waves became loftier, thicker and grander, while the deeper valleys between them seemed to be richer in vegetation. After some five hours of Hadh Paris we entered the tract of Bani Jallab, half-way across which — its width from north to south was about 15 miles — we camped for the night. The rugged nature of the country with its constant ups and downs over diflBlcult ridges tended to retard progress, while a mild southern breeze, alternating with entirely windless intervals, created sultry marching conditions and frayed tempers already on edge with the night’s altercations. Zayid, determined not to fast this last day and hoping to force the issue, had evidently ordered the
^Hemianax epMppiger Burm.
(b) SAND-PEAK IN ONE OF THE DUNE-RANGES OF BAN! NASIR. (See page 217)
To face page 186.
cook to overs fully. So th supper and y solid food wa Tke day’s ; of all tiiese fe multiplying c been neglecte Bim gazelle ' frequent trac fairly recent strayed from thing to ma] they all retn and the pari last formal b It was Ha crescent hig] It was fuUy ‘ of the others me. The ai reopened, bi gress — ^I had as a protest nounced my day — ^took j into a chanr We had fiJ for a six day mise or con finished aftc should be s( camp. It Wi vigorous eff( 40 miles dis proposal. ] was exagge: can do witl for more th
BITTER WATERS
187
cook to oYorsleep himself, which he had done very success¬ fully. So there was only tea and coffee for the morning supper and we started the last day’s fast fasting, so far as solid food was concerned.
The day’s proceedings were rather dreary in consequence of all these factors, but there was some compensation in the multiplying of indications that these better pastures had not been neglected by the desert animals. A pair of horns of the Bim gazelle was picked up from the sands, on which were frequent traces also of the Oryx, whose dry dung, in places fairly recent, has the sweet smeU of musk. Our hunters strayed from the course in high hopes of bringing back some¬ thing to make high festival withal on the feast day. But they all returned empty-handed except for a brace of hares, and the party that assembled round the camp-fire for the last formal breaking of the fast was in querulous mood.
It was Hasan Khurr al Dhib who first spotted the young crescent high up in the sky several minutes before sunset. It was fuUy ten minutes later that I saw it, while one or two of the others under Hasan’s guidance had picked it up before me. The argument of the previous evening was of course reopened, but my criticism of the afternoon’s rate of pro¬ gress — ^I had insisted on remaining with the baggage party as a protest against the stragghng of the rest and had an¬ nounced my intention of walking for the whole of the next day — ^took pride of place until the conversation was turned into a channel of greater interest.
We had filled our waterskins at Ibrahima on February 4th for a six days’ march, but there had been no attempt to econo¬ mise or control consumption. The water was now nearly finished after only four days and Zayid urged that a party should be sent to Haifa to bring back a supply to our next camp. It was obvious that they had no intention of making a vigorous effort to get to ‘Ain Sala — which proved to be about 40 miles distant — on the morrow, and I strongly resisted the proposal. But we have no water, said Zayid. I thought he was exaggerating or lying and answered hotly; Well, you can do without, surely, for one day, if I have done without for more than a month. Wliat’s more, if there s but little
188
THE EMPTY QUARTER
water, you can have it aU. I want none of it, no, not even for my nsuai tea, and yon can have the milk of my camel too. We can never arrive anywhere like this ; this is not marching. We had indeed been marching less than 25 miles a day, as I
reckoned, since leaving Wabar.
Later in the evening Zayid came to my tent alone to plead the common cause but I would not give way. Why can t you do without water ? I asked. I can, you see. It will hurt^us to be without water, he replied unashamedly , and our skins are empty. He departed evidently crestfallen at my obstinacy and, taking counsel with the rest, slipped away during the night with ’Ah and Humaid to get us water in my despite and, as they hoped without doubt, to return triumphantly with the carcase of an Oryx.
^ Man proposes but God disposes.’ I retired to bed un¬ conscious of their scheming and leaving Sa’dan to skin two birds and a hare by the hght of my lamp. I was almost asleep when there was a sudden roar and a tug at the tent ropes. The tent came tumbling over my head, burying Sa’dan in its folds and upsetting the lighted lamp. I rescued the latter before any harm could come of the accident and for¬ tunately I had packed everything away in the hope of an early start. The gale blew upon us fast and furious with stinging clouds of sand. I lay down in the open behind one of my boxes for shelter, while Abu Ja sha and others very considerately built a barricade round me. The wind howled and the sand blew most of the night, but I slept fitfully.
It was nearly daylight before I was woken for the dawn prayer. The storm had passed but our camp was a piteous scene of wreckage. My protecting barrier had become part of a decent-sized barrow. My tent had disappeared and we had to dig it out of the sand. It was cold and raw and miserable. And it was cheering to hear that there would be no breakfast. There was but enough water for the day’s coffee drinkings. I declined the formal offer of my usual tea, and our feast-day breakfast (after sunrise) was a lump of dates and sand with some sips of coffee. I noticed that Zayid and the others were absent but held my peace.
BITTER WATERS
A little after 7 we began the march. I walked, and some of the others walked too as they often did at the beginning of a march. Salih joined me and we struck out on a bee-line course, leaving the camels to negotiate the dune ranges in their usual meandering way. We talked of Oryx and gazelles and the better country of the Manasir, but Salih was thinking of something else, while Sa’dan, riding but leading my camel, and Earraj wdth Sahh’s kept at a respectful distance within hail. I thoroughly enjoyed that walking up hill and down dale over the rolHng sands, slithering down the steep slopes and toihng up to the crests. After nearly two hours of such progress we came to the top of a high ridge and I stopped to take in the scene. Suddenly a dark object on the summit of a dune caught my eye. What is that ? I exclaimed to Salih who was looking longingly in the other direction towards the camels. I thought it might be a raven or bush, but it looked somehow unfamihar. Before Salih could look round it had slipped back furtively behind the peak. When I had explained exactly what I had seen he was ail agog with excitement and nervousness. It may be the spy of a raiding party, he suggested, let us hasten to our companions. That was certainly the wisest thing to do in the circumstances, for our main body was half a mile away to the left. Sahh urged me to hasten all I knew and gesticulated wildly to warn the rest that there was something afoot.
A hasty council of war was held when we rejoined them, while Earraj, Sahh and others put their camels to the trot to spy out the land and the rest of us stood by the camels, preparing for battle. There was much brave talk and Sa’dan was among the bravest as he armed himself with my shot¬ gun— he, Mke me, had no rifle. Eear not, said ’Ah the herdsman, I will defend you. He and Muhammad and I remained with the camels. They had rifles, but I had only my -22 pocket revolver.
In a minute or two, leaving a few men on our right flank, the remainder came back. Mount quickly, they said, and let us hasten, keeping to the left. As we did so, we saw our scouts returning to rejoin us, and with them were the enemy — ^Zayid and the other truants! They had been
190
THE EMPTY QUARTER
canalit bv the storm before they had gone very far and had given up their self-imposed mission. The sand had obliterated their tracks and had washed out any hopes they may have had of tracking Oryx. So they had reconciled themselves to another waterless day and seemed to hope that their transparent stratagem had not been seen through by me Nevertheless they kept away from me while Sahh and I resumed our walking, with a north-easterly breeze more or less behind us. Here and there we saw the droppings of Orvx and Salih obviously longed to be ofi seeking the quarry , but he remained lovally by my side as we kept easily ahead of the baggage. Zayid and Co. seemed to be making a satis¬ factory effort to register better progress, but an hour later we saw them halted some distance ahead. As we came up to them we found that they had propped up the carcase of a huge bull Oryx against an Abal bush. They had found it dead*^ and half buried in the sand. Whether it had died of wounds or of drought— we had now entered a less favourable tract where there had been no recent rain and the vegetation was all dry — ^we could not say. But its carcase had not been touched. Only the paunch had collapsed — ^rotted by the intestines — otherwise the meat had dried intact upon the frame. I photographed the beast propped up against the bush that had shaded its dying moments and we cut off the head to carry along with us. Though dead, it was the first Oryx I had seen in its native land.
More than an hour after this interlude we passed into the district of Hadh ‘Ain Sala— range after range of high whitish dunes. Sahh hked the walking less and less with each passing hour but struggled gamely on, while I was thoroughly en- Jo3dng myself. I wondered whether he was really spent, for I felt not the shghtest bit fatigued. I assured him that he might ride, if he would, without giving me offence. It was up to them to make the pace too hot for me if they disHked ■my walking. At length he confessed, with tears in his eyes, that he could walk no more and begged me to mount to save his face. We had been walking for eight hours and I yielded, but insisted on riding with the baggage. Less than an hour later I observed a state of agitation among the
191
BITTER WATERS
advance party. Some of them, with rifles at the trail, were speeding up the slope on foot. I thought that perhaps they had observed an enemy or his tracks. But it was not that. They had come upon the spot where a pair of full-grown Oryx had enjoyed a siesta under a spreading Abal bush that very afternoon. Everything was forgotten in that thrilling moment — hunger, thirst, fatigue — and that was the end of the day’s march. We camped in a neighbouring hollow, my tent being pitched in the pit of an incipient horseshoe cavity of a lofty dime.
It was dark before the hunters retrirned — all unsuccessful, but hoping for better sport next day. There had been no dinner for them to miss, and I agreed now that a party should go to Naifa to bring water next day to ‘Ain Sala. To my astonishment Salih, who but an hour before had been crying out about Ms sore feet, had without a moment’s hesitation joined in the hunt, and he was one of the latest to arrive back in camp. He came to my tent obviously pleased with Mmself. Well, I asked, did you get an Oryx 1 Ho, he replied, but I saw" one, a great bull too, and that near. I drew a bead on Mm and pressed the trigger, but the cart¬ ridge misfired and at the sound the animal was gone. I saw no more, and here is the cursed cartridge. Ho you see the dent in its cap ? Yet he lied, and knew that I knew that he lied. He smiled wanly at my scepticism but did not press the matter.
Later on Zayid came to me mysteriously with the request for my hurricane lamp — I had also a pressure lamp to attract insects but was selfish about lending either as our paraffin supply was none too abundant. What do you want it for ? I asked. I want it, he rephed. I insisted on Ms teUing me the reason. WeU, he said, if you would know, we aU heard as we sat at the fire there the sound of a low wMstiing and we ^^hiuk perhaps there may be raiders about and the wMstle a scout’s signal. I gave Mm the lamp and thought no more of the matter until next morning. It was nothing, said Zayid ; we cast all around but foimd no tracks. It was a Jinn, said Hflsan with an air of conviction that surprised and interested me. He was quite serious and they all seemed to agree with-
192
THE EMPTY QUARTER
out demur. It did not seem to occur to them that such a sound could be anything but supernatural. I had often before heard of the Rub' al Khali as being infested with Jinns, but this was our first encounter with its spiritual denizens.
The morning broke cold, grey and very hazy with a gentle north breeze as w^e resumed the march. From time to time we came upon more signs of Oryx, and the dune ranges, lying uniformly north-east to south-west, seemed to be getting higher and steeper and softer, dropping southward like spent rollers of an ocean. It was a duU, dreary, dead countr}^ of sandy valleys, about a mile wide,., between the waves with scanty, parched shrubs of Andab and Alqa, Abal and Hadh, and tufts of Birkan as we approached 'Ain Sala. It was a very short march of only 15 miles in all, but we broke it in the middle with an hour’s halt. Almost the last of our water was used up for coffee, and the last remnants of the Maqainama camel were produced and grilled in the ashes to make up for a feast day that had been both breakfastless and dinnerless. The landscape now flattened out as seen from the north and the ranges looked lower but their downward dip was deeper. Slowly we approached the crest of a long winding range and Salim, pointing downwards almost at his feet, exclaimed : Look 1 'Ain Sala ! I looked down into a great pit 200 feet below us and saw a patch of rock.
For five days we had seen nothing but sand in a state of perpetual flux, and there was something strangely satisfying in the sight of rock. I dismounted to take in the scene while the camels fetched a wide circuit to reach the entrance to the hollow, which was completely surrounded by high steep slopes of sand in horseshoe formation except towards the south-west. A high point in the dune range immediately above the pit must have been at least 300 feet above its level but the ridge in general was from 50 to 100 feet lower. A pair of ravens circled round to witness our arrival and remained in attendance, though at a discreet distance, during our sojourn of five days from February 10th to 15th. Occasionally they even ventured into our camp during its
somnolent nioi impunity, for in and all our eSo: something of a more small bird and eTen tried pocket pistol.
As I sat alo] rifle shot rang slope. I saw e For a moment beyond, where A1 x4qfa pursue bullet had gone overhauled it. Farraj came ba to be a Fenn collected last y
Having suri/ down the steej formation I ex? the camels dr: above the flooi friable gre3dsh up sands. Do' formation, son well area in ai whose horns | surrounding se fragments of fr characteristic < the Him gazefl like. But th this locahty ^ stony meteorii
^ Arabia Felix, have been provisi the British Mnser
2 Melanoides tui
N
BITTER WATERS
193
somnolent moments and might have been bolder with impunity, for my shot-giin had now gone finally out of action and all our efforts to put it right were unavailing. This was something of a tragedy as we could scarcely hope to get any more small birds though I continued to note their occurrence, and even tried from time to time to shoot them with my pocket pistol.
As I sat alone on a dune top commanding the hollow a rifle shot rang out, echoing and re-echoing from slope to slope. I saw a fox standing stock-still on the rock below. For a moment it stood there before flight into the sands beyond, where I followed it with my glasses as Farraj and A1 Aq_fa pursued. The beast ivas obviously wounded ^the bullet had gone through its abdomen — and rapidly the bitch overhauled it. Then among the bushes came the end, and Farraj came back triumphant with Ms trophy, wMch proved to be a Fennec or Desert Fox of the new subspecies^ collected last year by Mr. Thomas.
Having surveyed the scene sufficiently I went straight down the steep soft slope towards the pit, whose geological formation I examined while the tents were being pitched and the camels driven forth to the pastures. x4bout 50 feet above the floor of the depression an intermittent stratum of friable gre3dsh sandstone appeared from under the heaped- up sands. Downwards it shelved to a rock-floor ot similar formation, some acres in extent and curving round the actual well area in an imposing semicircular cliff of 10 or 12 feet, whose horns penetrated and lost themselves in the steep surrounding sand slopes. In tMs area I found a few shell firagments of freshwater^ origin, but otherwise notMng but the characteristic odds and ends of old Badawin camps— horns of the Rim gazelle, cartridge oases, fragments of leather and the like. But three fragments of stone picked up by me in tMs locality have proved to be parts of a single small stony meteorite.^
^ Arabia Felix, p. 340. I brought back three specimens in all, which have been provisionally labelled Cynalopex sp, by Captain J. G. D oilman of the British Museum.
2 Melanoides tuherculaia — see Appendix. ^ See Appendix.
194 the empty quarter
Beyond the sandstone area, however, and isolated from it by the sand, I came upon an unique and fairly large patch of calcareous concretions, the nature of which I was completely at a loss to understand. It consisted of large and small single, double and even treble cyHndrical tubes with rough calcareous exteriors but smooth and polished insides. Mr. cLmpbeU Smiths of the British Museum suggested that they could only be concretions formed round the ‘branches and twigs of vegetation long since perished from the inside.’ But the matter remained in suspense imtil, by a curious chance, a similar specimen of calcareous concretion was received at the Museum &om a locahty in Trans-Jordan. In this case the hardened reed, roundwhich the calcareous matter had formed, was still intact. There could be httle doubt, therefore, that the ‘Ain Sala concretions were of similar origin, and we may suppose that a bed of reeds once upon a time grew in or near water on the spot where I found them. The ‘Ain Sala tract thus becomes a possible candidate for the honour of being considered a rehc of the old Wadi Da,wasir, of which we had hitherto come upon no trace. In this case the Shanna valley further south, for which I have provision¬ ally reserved that honour, may prove to he the tail of the Najran valley system, for which also an ultimate destination must be found some day. ‘Ain Sala and Tuwairifa, more than 100 miles apart, seem to he approximately at the same altitude above sea-level and are separated by higher ^ound. They must therefore represent the renmants of different valleys, and it may be suggested tentatively that the district embracing Adraj, ‘Ain Sala, Haifa and Ziqirt constitutes either a delta of Wadi Dawasir or an estuary of the sea. ^ In the absence of any sign of fresh water underlying this neigh¬ bourhood I am inchned to prefer the latter alternative, though the former caimot by any means be ruled out of court.
The single weU is sunk to a depth of seven or eight fathoms, as they say, through the sandstone rock, having a mouth only two feet in diameter and reinforced by a framework of wattle. In aU probability its record of alternate life and death goes far back into the past, but its modern history— 1 See Appendix.
BITTER WATERS
195
and very short is the desert memory — begins with A1 Nifl, a Shaikh of Murra, who came to these parts, sorely distraught with thirst in the course of a raiding expedition, and saw a vision in his fevered dreaming. Fear not, the voice had said, the water is at your feet. Next morning he had followed the ridge to where the rock lay exposed and had dug till he and his men came to water and thus saved themselves and their cattle alive. That was some oO years ago and the drought had buried the shaft till the ' year of Hail ’ by their reckon¬ ing (1921 by ours), when ’Ali Jahman had rediscovered and reopened the well. It remained in regular use for two seasons until the beginning of the eight years' drought, when it w^as again abandoned to the sands. We found it therefore dead and buried. Its water was, they said, alw^ays briny though drinkable.
It is indeed astonishing that a small patch of the bedrock surrounded by sands should remain more or less permanently exposed. It can perhaps be explained by the suggestion that in such deep hollow's the wind sets up an eddy of the sands which serves to sw'eep the floor clean. It was indeed quite difficult to find a suitable spot for our tents, which -were from time to time undercut by the sudden whirlwinds that descended upon us without warning and actually floored my tent on three occasions during our sojourn.
On arrival we used up the last of our water for a final brew^ of coffee and then had to wait in patience until the party which had gone to Naifa came in with full skins at 5 p.m. From that moment arose an activity of the bowels which, except for a brief period after Shanna, was to haunt us to the end of our desert wanderings and to make Naifa a bjnvord among us. Curiously enough in my case the trouble started almost immediately after our arrival at 'Ain Sala and could not be attributed in its inception to that cause, though the Naifa water proved sufficiently powerful even in tea and coffee to aggravate my uneasiness. Its origin, however, I attribute to the discontinuance of the fast, for with the re¬ moval of aH such restrictions I had, at the instigation of Salih and Humaid, browsed freely on the white blossoms and tender green sprigs of the Abal as we inarched and at our
196 the empty QUARTEE,
halts while Makilca now appeared quite frequently on our menu. I can vouch therefore for the much-vaunted medicinal
properties of the shrub. , , ni j t.
It had been agreed that ‘Ain Sala should be made our base of operations while Zayid and ’Ali went forth towards Shanna to recruit guides and guarantors for the proposed southward extension of our wanderings from any Arabs they roisht find in their path. We were to allow them six days and at the end of that period meet them at Ziqirt a stage further south. Jabir ibn Fasl had warned us that we should find no one in the southern pastures as the grazing tribes had been packing up, as he left to come north, with the idea of vetting to the protection of the southern mountains before the arrival of the punitive expedition which the guilty con¬ science of the Manhah Shaikh Saif ibn Tannaf imagined to he foreshadowed by the preparations for our expedition. Besides Saif himself our messengers were to seek out Hamad ibn Sultan, who had been Mr. Thomas’ guide and was living with his wife among her kinsmen of the Rashid Kathiris— probably to be out of the way of the Wahhabi tax-collectors. Hasan ibn Halut of the Rashid or one of his relatives would also be a desirable acqmsition, while we should ultimately need representatives of the Sa’ar and Karb tribes. Zayid and ’Ali appeared to be going forward in aU good faith to serve our ends loyally, but Jabir had spoken all too truly. They saw no signs of Arabs anywhere, and that very fact is as striking a tribute as can be imagined to the awe inspired by the name of Ibn Sa’ud. A party of nineteen men cannot be regarded as a serious menace to the war-hke and turbulent tribes of the south, who can at short notice place 200 or 300 armed men in the field without difficulty. But it would evidently be a serious matter for them to challenge the representatives of the great King and, in any ease, they pre- feired not to face the issue.
That night I had long consultations with the selected emissaries, and I gave them the choice of three ultimate objectives. An observation of Polaris gave our position as being a little south of the 20th Parallel while our Longitude appeared to be something in the neighborhood of 51° E:
BITTER WATERS
197
In these circumstances Qabr Hud’^ — the reputed tomb and shrine of the prophet Heber — seemed to be the best objec¬ tive on Longitude 50° E. and Latitude 16° N. as far as I could ascertain from the available maps. That was there¬ fore the task I set them, vdth Shibam (further west) and the sea-coast (further south) as reasonable alternatives. Also they were to hire a few fresh camels if possible and ascertain the possibilities of replenishing orur commissariat for the ultimate waterless trek to Sulai3dl.
Look you, said ’Ali, you know what the Badu are hke. These people wiU want much money. You must teU us how much we can go to. That is rather for you to consider, I replied ; I will agree to what you consider reasonable. The money I have brought is for the needs of our expedition. Waste it not lest there be less for you ah to share. But how much do you think? insisted ’Ali. What do jmu advise ? I rephed evasively. He was for a long time unwilling to commit himself, and I told them to consult among themselves and come to me with the result. At length they came to me. We think, said ’Ali, that they wiU not accept less than 100 dollars apiece. They are Badu and greedy, and the Chiistian by aU reports was generous last year. What do you think ? I asked, turning to Zayid. I agree with ’Ali, he rephed, and it is cheap. They are Shaikhs and, if you pay them well, they will serve you well. Very well, I replied, let us agree to that. The prospect of the expenditure of 400 or 500 dollars (about £20 or £25) did not seem very outrageous in the circumstances.
Next morning we sat over the camp-fire sipping coffee and eating dates while preparations went forward for sending down the camels to water at Naifa. As we should visit the place later I decided to stay where I was for a rest. Za3dd and ‘Ali would go with the watering party and thence proceed to Shanna. As we sat there a V-shaped column of geese or swans^
1 This locality was visited by D. van der Meulen and Dr. H. von Wiss- mann in 1931. Their account is published in a recent volume entitled Hadramaut. See also J.R.G.S., vol. Ixxvii, Ho. 3, 1931, for an aeroplane flight over the locality by Squadron-Leader the Hon. R. A. Cochrane. The actual position, according to these authorities, is approximately Long. 49'' 30' E. and Lat. 16° N.
® My companions called them Lau.
198
THE EMPTY QUAETER
passed far over our heads pointing northward. It was a lovely sight in the midst of the desert. They will be going to Qatar, said ’AM, that is the direction and we often see them on the coast there. Zaid, the cook, had reported seeing the tracks of a Stone Curlew right down by the edge of the camp, and this bird proved a regular visitor each night though we never had a gMmpse of it. Yet its persistence suggested some attraction by the water or moisture of the well area, while the occurrence of the earths of foxes in the near neighbourhood of the well here and at Umm al Hadid — the same fact was observed at other wells and suspected well-sites at later stages of our march in this Khiran district — seemed to argue that the Desert Fox does not eschew water and frequents its vicinity. I sug¬ gested to ’AM that, if he would seek water to dig at in these sands, he would do well to select suitable spots in firm ground burrowed by foxes. The small desert birds were also here and hereabout in comparative plenty, while on two occasions during the daytime I saw a single Humming-bird Hawk moth.
Having sufficiently explored 'Ain Sala and its immediate neighbourhood I decided on an excursion to the watering of Adraj about 10 miles distant to the north-west. Thither, accordingly, we proceeded on the 12th — a small party of seven without tents or other impedimenta — to spend the night there and return on the foMowing day. The country tra¬ versed, with SaMm as our guide, was similar to that we had already seen when coming to 'Ain Sala. The pastures, how¬ ever, seemed to be better while the only prominent feature of the march was the long and fairly lofty dune range of Hamran Adraj, lying north-east by south-west across our path for several miles in each direction. Beyond it we traversed a wide billowing plain bounded at the further side by the higher range of Adraj itself.
SaMm was not very certain of his bearings here, but turned to the right along the foot of the ridge in the hope of finding an easy passage across it. As we marched our camels became excited at their — and my — first sight of the most beautiful of aH the desert bushes. The yellow cup-Mke flower and frosted leaves of the ZaJir made a charming picture indeed in such surroundings and, though I saw the plant in plenty
BITTER WATERS
199
afterwards, I never forgot this first impression of its almost exotic loveliness. I was surprised to hear that it does not rank very high as camel fodder in Badawin estimation, while the dung resulting from its consumption is regarded as having a lower calorific value than the product of Hadh, Our camels however made short work of the few plants we found, while I noticed that the tiny Desert Warbler (or perhaps some other bird, for I did not secure a specimen) was here in unwonted numbers, fl}nng in companies instead of lurking about the bushes singly or in pairs.
Almost immediately afterwards we came rather unexpec¬ tedly upon the dip of the great horseshoe hollow of Adraj itself backed by the lofty dune which makes its range a con¬ spicuous feature in the landscape. In a fairly extensive patch of the exposed sandstone bedrock lie the three dead ’ wells which constitute this former watering. The water is said to have been at nine fathoms and the mouths of the shafts were easily enough distinguishable in spite of some encroach¬ ment of the sand on the lowest level of the hollow in which they lie between the steep sand-slope and a table of upstand¬ ing rock divided into four unequal sections and elevated about 10 or 12 feet above the well level. The surface of this table was of hard and rough calcareous appearance, but there was no sign of the h4in Sala reed tubes, though I picked up a smal stony meteorite. Numerous thin specimens of fulgurites^ or lightning tubes (formed by the fusing of the sand by lightning) were also found on the sands round this locality, and the Arabs have a theory that such tubes generally indicate the presence of water. We certainly found such specimens, however, on the desert sands where there was no suggestion of water, and there would seem to be no essential connection between the two. But it did seem to me that the exposures of the bedrock often had some relation to the presence of subterranean water, and it may be that such exposures tend to occur in low-lying old valley levels where of course there would presumably be water at a greater or lesser depth. Wilfrid and Lady Anne Blunt^' also noted something of the same
^ See Appendix. ^ A PUgrimage to N^d, chap. viii.
200 THE EMPTY QUARTER
kind in similar rock exposures in tke great Nortkern
iSFafud.
Our visit to Adraj, delightful as it was in all other respects, was unfortunately marred by a minor domestic tragedy. I had gone up to the summit of the dune with Salim, who had then wandered into the desert in search of meat. He had returned to camp with a hare which seemed to me of an unusually hght brown colouring. I passed it to Sa’dan for skinning, as we all sat chatting round the camp-fire, with a warning to exercise great care as I attached special impor¬ tance to the specimen. The wretch, however, seemed to be in frivolous hohday mood and I had had to repeat my warning. After that I thought no more of the matter and we sat round our usual dish of rice after my companions had devoured the ash-grilled meat of the hare as a hors d’cBuvre. Later on, as we still sat round the fire enjoying the pleasantness of the evening, Earraj, drawing something from the embers of the fire, asked casually where it had come from. It was the hare’s skull ruined beyond repair and I could not refrain from giving expression to my wrath. Sa’dan, apparently undis¬ turbed and quite unrepentant, allowed his silly tongue to wag impertinently and I suggested in momentary anger that the others did not do well to let such things happen with impunity. Seeing that I was genuinely aggrieved by the disaster Ibn Ma’addi suggested that the culprit should be bound and beaten, to which, perhaps stupidly but still in anger more at his continued impertinence than his error, I gave my consent. Thereupon they all fell upon him with the hearty roughness of their kind and belaboured him quite gently, as I thought, but at any rate enough to hurt his amour propre if not his body. He relapsed into rebelhous sulks and had to be forced to assist me as usual at the theo- dohte. This work we accomphshed successfully enough in spite of the tension between us, but the matter rankled in his cockney heart and he declared that he would work for me no more. Next day, having evidently thought things out to his satisfaction, he announced his formal resignation from my service, which I promptly accepted vidth the suggestion that I should pay him up to date. I then made enquiries for
BITTER WATERS
201
a volunteer to replace Miii and had several offers — but it was he himself that brought me my pot of tea and the hatchet was buried between us. He had taken his measure of me and we never quarrelled again — -lie was indeed indispensable and served me more than well, in return for which Ms final guerdon was considerably in excess of the earnings of any of the others.
The return journey to h4iii Sala was made on a compass bearing set by myself — at first due south for nearly two hours and then due east as far as w^as permitted by inter¬ vening ridges. On tMs march, south of the next ridge beyond Hamran Adraj, we came upon a dark bluish HMock of rock in a sand-girt hollow of the desert, wiiich seemed to suggest the presence of an old, forgotten well. We remained here an hour seeMng in vain for shells or fossils, but we agreed that there must be a buried shaft somewhere in the hollow and bestowed the name of Bir al Makhfi or ' the Mddeii well ’ on a locality which would certainly be worthy of further investigation when the Badawin return to this dis¬ trict under improved pasture conditions.
All this tract between h4in Sala and Adraj goes by the name of Hadh 'Ain Sala, while westward beyond the Adraj dune range begins the Hadh-less tract which they name Elhiliat Adraj, and wMch we were destined to traverse some weeks later. The pastures in tMs neighbourhood, though better than much we had seen Mtherto, were nevertheless not of a character to attract the large herds of the grazing Badawin.
On reacMng 'Ain Sala we found everji}hing in order as we had left it, wMle Ibn Humaipd, who had accompanied ’ Ali and Zayid for the first part of their way only to prospect the approaches to Ziqirt and to locate it in Ms brain-map for the purpose of guiding us tMther in due course, had safely returned. And the following day — ^warm, mild and windless except for occasional light northern breezes — we spent in rest and idleness. I scoured the surroundings in vain hopes of encountering the Spifidasis butterfly already mentioned, and was glad to secure a couple of dragonflies. But, apart from the welcome rest amid tolerable pastures for the camels.
202 THE EMPTY QUAETER
the chief advantage accruing from our prolonged sojourn at h4in Sala was the opportunity afforded for an useful series of star and sun observations for the determination of its Latitude and possibly also of its Longitude.
Next morning at 9 a.m. we broke camp and started off for Naifa, the baggage pursuing the direct route while I, accom¬ panied by Ibn Ma’addi and EarraJ, made a slight diversion more to the south to inspect two exposures of rock, which they had noted the previous day while out in search of game. Such patches of rock in the midst of the desert sands were as interesting to me as uncharted islands in unknown seas are to the wandering mariner, and I always found the Arab ready to examine any spot where the presence of water might be suspected.
After half an hour we came to the first exposure — a patch of rock in a hollow of the sands which seemed to be an incipient horseshoe. Here again we found a number of fox earths and the sand was strewn with fulgurites. Only a well mouth was wanted to complete the picture but we found it not. So we christened the spot A1 Sailan with reference to its nearness to 'Ain Sala and passed on until, after about 20 minutes’ marching, we came upon a regular hillock about 30 feet high situated in the pit of a typical horseshoe cavity of the low, adjoining sandridge. There were other lesser exposures of rock strata in the sand-slopes around, while fox earths were numerous both in the flanks of the eminence and on its summit. We again however drew blank for the suspected well and contented ourselves with adding a new name to the local map — caUing the place A1 Manifa, at Farraj’s suggestion, by reason of its comparatively great elevation.
A few moments later we passed from Hadh 'Ain Sala into EJbilla Haifa, a tract of some half dozen rather bare dune ranges of the now usual NE.-SW. orientation, which are separately grouped under the name of Bani Riman on account of the strikish whiteness of their colouring in con¬ trast with the brown or ruddy hue of the sands we had left behind. Tracks of bustard, hare and fox were seen abun¬ dantly, but we had little time to waste in search of game as
203
BITTER WATERS
my companions were growing a little nervous of the grow¬ ing distance between us and the main body now visible afar off. Farraj, always inclined to be a little jumpy, declared that that morning he had heard a distant rifle shot as he had sat keeping a look-out on the ‘Ain Sala ridge. There might therefore be others in the desert besides our¬ selves, but it was at least as likely that the shot had emanated from the rifle of Sahm or Hasan who, with my permission, had gone off on a short holiday in search of Oryx on the under¬ standing that they should rejoin us on the third day at Ziqirt. Or, suggested Salih who had come with us, it may have been a Jinn doing a little game shooting.
The country became more broken, hke a choppy sea, as we went eastward, and the northern flanks of the Bani Riman ranges were low and rounded though the southward slopes were still deep and steep. A patch of good vegetation on the wav accommodated two larks and a warbler besides producing a dragonfly and a Painted Lady — the first since Jabrin and indeed the only one seen in the whole expanse of the Rub' al Khali.
Under and on the south side of the third range lay the watering of Kaifa in an unusually elongated horseshoe hoUow, of which one side and the head formed part of the main range while the other side was a projecting rib thereof about half a mile long or more. The hollow was oriented north-east and south-west roughly in accordance with the axis of the dune-range itself, and was almost closed in by sand at an inward curve of its projecting horns. The long narrow approach corridor was well covered with A.b<il bushes and spread out fanwise at its south-west extremity into a broad roUing valley.
A single well, with its potent brine hc[uid at a depth of only eight feet, lay in greyish sandstone at the inner (north-east) edge of a small patch of the bedrock, from which the sand- slopes rose steeply theatre fashion on three sides to a height of 200 feet. We were merely marking time here to allow Zayid and ’Ali to accompHsh their mission, and I was in the mood to enjoy as much rest as possible during these days of enforced inactivity. It was 2 p.m. when we got into camp
204
THE EMPTY QUARTER
and, as soon as my tent was pitched, I retired to it for a siesta, from which, about 3.30, I was woken by the usual noisy preparations for the afternoon prayer. After the prayer I remained outside enjoying the mild warmth of an almost mndless afternoon, while some of my companions worked or washed noisily at the well, and Sa’dan sat monkey -like on the summit of the knife-edged rim of our crater, to which he had ascended.
Quite suddenly the great amphitheatre began to boom and drone with a sound not unlike that of a siren or perhaps an aeroplane engine — quite a musical, pleasing, rhythmic sound ^ of astonisliing depth. Only once before had I heard the phenomenon of the famous ‘ Singing Sands ’ — near the tumbled dimes of Badr between Yanbu’ and Madina in July, X928, — ^but on that occasion I had heard them only from afar. Here at Naifa the conditions were ideal for the study of the sand concert, and the first item was sufficiently pro¬ longed — it lasted perhaps about four minutes — for me to recover from my surprise and take in every detail. The men working at the well started a rival and less musical concert of ribaldry directed at the Jinns who were supposed to be responsible for the occurrence. You wait, said Abu Ja’sha, noticing my annoyance at their unseemly interven¬ tion. Just wait till the evening and you will hear them letting off their big guns, much worse than this. That unfortunately did not happen, but for the moment I was content to reahse that the key to the situation was Sa’dan, seated on the top of the slope. It was evident that the music was being en¬ gendered by the sand sliding down the steep slope from under Mm.
It seemed moreover — ^but tMs was probably an illusion — to stop when he rose and walked along the ridge for about 50 yards, and to start again when he sat down, though on tMs occasion the booming was fainter than before and only lasted about a minute. Again he moved on, following the summit of the cirque, and again there was no sound wMle he was actually on the move though, on Ms sitting down, the con¬ cert resumed quite as loudly as on the first occasion to last about three minutes. There seemed no doubt whatsoever,
205
BITTER WATERS
therefore, tbat the music was produced by Sa’ dan’s movements
from one undisturbed zone to another and, when he came down, having had enough of that form of amusement, I w'ent up in his place armed with a bottle (to collect a sample of the sand), note-book and watch.
I found a very hght north wind (or north-north-east) blowing from behind the dune-range which enclosed the hollow. The summit was about 200 feet above the w^ell, and the slope of the sand, converging on the depression in an almost perfect are representing perhaps tw^o-thirds of a circle, was exceedingly steep and soft, though by no means uniformly steep all round. And it seemed to me that the music only arose when the sand was sliding down the more steeply inchned parts. I could not therefore produce the phenomenon absolutely at will unless I happened to be on the brink of a section suitable for the performance. On three separate occasions, however, music followed on mj disturbance of the loose sand at the summit— a loud, bar- mordous, organ-like booming.
I stood on the brink of the amphitheatre and pushed the thick soft sand of the summit dowuiwards with my feet. Thereupon one or more broad shute-like bands of sand began to move steadily down the slope, setting up a distinctly audible friction^ sound--just such a sound indeed as one would expect in the circumstances, a loud sound of rubbing or grating as of a rough body shding over a sandy floor. This sound — ^in which was no suspicion of music and which would not be audible at any considerable distance — ^increased in a steady crescendo until the moving mass seemed to have progressed about 50 feet down the slope, whereupon the quahty of the sound changed abruptly from the grating to a booming.
The loudness of the sound seemed to depend on the quantity of the sand in movement, but in all cases there was a crescendo of sound which only diminished slightly before stopping altogether quite abruptly — as abruptly as the engine of a motor car — and simultaneously, as it seemed to me, with a sudden cessation of all movement on the slope. Each item of actual booming lasted between two and three
206 THE EMPTY QUARTER
minutes on the aYerage, while the distance traversed by the sand while singing seemed to be from 50 to 70 feet.
Having tmce manipulated the show with complete suc¬ cess, I started off a sort of Grand Finale and soon had the sand cliff booming and droning in the most effective manner. Bottle in hand, I now plunged down the first 50 or 60 feet of the slope and threw myself in a kneehng position on to the singing mass, into which my knees penetrated to a depth of 12 inches or so. I then thrust the bottle deep into the soft, moving, singing sand and, as I drew it out, noticed a remark¬ able suctional sound as of a trombone. A similar sound resulted from the drawing out of my knees from the slope, and also as I plunged my hands into the mass and drew them out again. It also seemed to me that there was a hollow¬ ness deep down beneath the surface, but it would probably be difficult to be certain of that. Furthermore as I knelt on the moving sand I experienced a curious but quite unmis¬ takable sensation of a subsurface throbbing and pulsing, as in a mild earthquake.
It seemed immaterial whether the sand was set in motion on the sunny or shady side of the cirque as I got good results from both — ^the time being soon after 4 p.m. and the northern side of the hollow being in the shade. But all my efforts to get music out of the lowest 60 or 70 feet of the slope resulted in nothing. At 7 p.m. that evening — ^without the assistance of any foreign agency though it happened that our camels were actually coming into camp at the moment down the corridor opposite the centre of the singing cliff — the booming started again, but was not as strong as it had been during the afternoon and only lasted about half a minute, after which the concert came finally to an end, leaving me free to notice one of the loveliest meteors I have ever seen.
At 8 p.m. the half moon stood half-way between Venus in the east and Jupiter in the west — ^the two great planets being seemingly at their most brilliant. The night was light as day and the sands lay silvery under the illuminations of heaven like mountain snow. Suddenly with a flash as of an explosion a huge ball of flame passed across the sky from the neighbourhood of Canopus in an easterly direction— travel-
207
BITTER WATERS
ling slowly but maintaining its brilliance until with another flash it disappeared. That night at Xaifa was the best of all our nights, an unforgettable chmax to the unique ex¬ periences of the day .
At 7 a.m. next morning— before we started on our march for Ziqirt and with the thermometer registering 45° Eahr. in the shade— I went up to the crest of the chff only to find there was no more music in the sands. Try as I might I could not get the shghtest sound out of them except the initial grating. Their sUding was sluggish and seemed to stop short of the musical zone. And the same afternoon at Ziqirt- — a similar great cirque with knife-edged rim round a deep rock-floored hollow'— there was again a booming of the sands as Farraj ascended the steep slope to keep a look-out for our returning envoys. But it w'as a feeble, short- ve —perhaps half a minute— moaning rather than a booing, and our efforts to prodnee better results ended in iiiiiforrQ.
failure. , . o j 5 •
Such then was all my experience of ‘ Singing Sands m the Rub‘ al Khah. The phenomenon is famihar enough to the Badawin, and IMr. Thomas had heard it in the dune country of Yadila (? Jadila) the previous year. It was only strange that the phenomenon should not have been met with more often.^ I have recorded the facts of my observation in fun as I wrote them down at the time in the hope that those better quahfied to consider the how and why of the singing may have the fullest possible material to work on. It may however be permissible even in a layman to attempt an explanation of the matter on the basis of the thoughts that crowded upon him as he observed.
Since returning to England I have had an opportumty of Tnflkiug the intimate acquaintance of the so-called ‘ Whisthng Sands ’ of Forth Oer on the Caernarvonshire coast. I should describe them as ‘ squeaking rather than ‘ whistling,’ and they certainly do not ‘ sing ’ or boom or ‘ drone,’ while they must be struck or kicked for each squeak they produce. I find it difficult to think that t e
^ Iteferenee may be made to the chapter on ‘ Singing Sands in Lord
Curzoii’s Tales of Travel.
208
THE EMPTY QUARTER
problem presented by them is of the same order as that of the desert booming. Yet Mr. C. Carus-Wilson, who is an expert in such matters, failed to get any response whatever from my specimen^ of the ' Singing Sands ’ of Naifa by methods which set samples from Forth Oer and the Isle of Eigg squeaking like a host of crickets. Whether the Forth Oer sands would ever boom if piled up on steep ISTaifa-hke cliffs and set in motion I am not competent to say. The Haifa sands certainly do not boom or squeak underfoot or when kicked, and it may be that the Welsh sands would not squeak or boom if pushed down a steep slope. Or it may be indeed that, while only particular sands squeak at a touch, all sands woxild boom under suitable conditions.^
Such questions are only for the experts. But there are points about the Rub' al Khali sands which may be suggested for consideration. The Forth Oer sands squeak even when their subsurface is moist, provided that the actual surface is dry, but the Haifa sands had no music in them at 7 a.m. nor again, as I was to discover later on, after a comparatively light sprinkling of rain. Yet they boomed mildly at 7 p.m. after producing their full tone the same afternoon. Climatic conditions generally — humidity, temperature, wind, etc. — appear therefore to have some bearing on the subject.
In the next place the Haifa sands behaved differently in the various zones of the musical sand cliff. The moving mass began by grating at the top and continued by booming in the middle, while they ceased to emit any sound at all on the cessation of movement on the slope. Movement would therefore seem to be an essential cause both of the grating and the singing. It is difficult to say whether the volume of the sliding mass is greater at the start or when the singing begins. It is true that the sands, when they slide, set the sands before them in motion, but the friction certainly stops part of the original mass on the way while the final stoppage of movement actually takes place on a steep incline. The presumption i^ therefore that, while the mass gathers volume
^ ^ It should, perhaps be admitted that the quantity of sand available for his experimeiiits was too small for the purpose.
2 See note by Dr. Vaughan Cornish in Appendix.
BITTER WATERS
209
as it goeSj it also loses some in the same process until at a certain point the volume is not sufficient to maintain the forward motion. Yet the sand is booming — not at its loudest, it is true, but still definitely booming'' — at the very moment when sound and movement come simultaneously to an end.
If the shape or mineral composition of the grains is the dominant factor why should the sound start as a grating and develop into a booming ? The Forth Oer sands, for instance, have but a single note, with silence as the only alternative. Surely, therefore, there must be other factors in play among the desert sands. Is the booming a trans¬ muted echoing of the grating as it reaches the requisite angle to the surrounding slopes or circuit ? Or is the transmutation effected by the formation of a vacuum or hollow space between the moving mass and the stable surface over which it moves I Such a hollow would surely act as a sounding board, while its creation would pre¬ sumably be gradual as the mass moves dovm the slope — perhaps due to the temperature of the atmosphere enhanced by the friction of the moving sand. Such c|uestions, again, can only be answered by the expert, and I can do no more than record my impression that the change of sound from a grating to a booming seemed to be occasioned by the inter¬ vention of something in the nature of a sounding board.
My companions, being anxious either to get away from Naifa^ or to reach vithout delay the rendezvous with h41i and Zayid, had represented the distance to Ziqirt as a full and energetic day’s march. On that basis I had agreed to an early start and our caravan passed out of the Naifa hollow at 7.30. We had, however, not sent the baggage train ahead and it soon became evident that the march was to be slack and lifeless as most of our recent marches had been. Having negotiated the two remaining ranges of Bani Riman, we passed across two more ridges, apparently nameless, into the tract of Hamran Ziqirt consisting of four parallel ranges,
^ Among the things collected here was a small piece of meteoric iron similar in composition to that of Wabar (see Appendix). It may have been brought and dropped here by some Ajrab visitor.
210 THE EMPTY QUARTER
beyond the last of whicli a roUing plain ended in a deep, suxf-like drop to the valley in which lies the watering of Ziqirt, nesthng in a horseshoe hollow against the side of a
liigh dime.
Early in the proceedings A1 Aqfa had started a hare, and the march was practically brought to a standstill while almost every man in the party took a hand in an ultimately bloodless chase— the hare running the gauntlet of a long line of hunters in admirable fashion. After this disappoint¬ ment the baggage party seemed to lose all heart and, in dis¬ gust at their lagging, I called a halt and went off with my butterfly net in search of insects in a wide valley with plentiful ZaJiT and other plants. If the animals are tired, I said, we can halt here as long as you like. It matters little
to me.
This had the desired effect and the vanguard went on lead¬ ing my mount, while I dawdled in the valley until the bag¬ gage came up, whereupon I continued the march walking. The conditions were pleasant enough for such mild exertion, and Sa’dan, whose camel had shown signs of lameness, joined me in my walk. Look you, he said, our companions were talking just now. They say there is no Abal about Ziqirt or other firewood. So they would camp short of the well to save themselves trouble. That is why they were marching slowly. There is Earraj, I said, with my camel. He would have me mount, but I would walk unless they are ready to march properly. So do you mount my beast in my stead when we come up with him. Earraj had indeed halted to await us and, as we came up, he called out : See, I have brought your camel, so mount now; the others are far ahead. Sa’dan will mount my beast, I rephed, his is lame and he is tired, while I prefer to search for creeping things. See, the baggage is behind us, so it is no matter. He would not believe that I preferred walking if the conditions of our marching permitted, and he began to tackle me on the subject of my chronic dissatisfaction with our miserable rate of marching ; but his cavilling was turned upon himself when from the ridge we looked down into a depression in which the advance party had lighted a fire to make coffee. I left them
BITTER WATERS
211
to it and went off again in search of insects, keeping generally to the direction of our route so that they could catch me up when they had had their refreshments.
They had obviously discussed my attitude and concluded that it would be bettertomarchproperlytliemselTestlianhaTe me walk. That was more than the most callous of them could stand. So I nioiinted when they caught me up and Farraj rode with me, evidentty determined to get to the bottom of things. I like walking, I assured Mm, but I hate this slow rate'of marcMng. Surely it is better for us all to get to the W'ell quickly and pitch our tents. Then you can have your coffee, wMle I can walk about as I like seeking these insects and bits of rock. Tell me, he replied ; we notice two tMngs in you. Firstly you are hot-tempered and easily get angry if we do not as you please. And secondly you are ever ready to disbelieve what the guides saj'. Tell me, he went on very frankly and confidentially, were you like that from the day God created you 1 or what is the reason for it ? Surely you know that the guides do not lie deliberately, and tMs is their own country where they know every bush and every hum¬ mock. Why then should you suspect them of lying 1 As for the guides, I replied with equal frankness, I know that they know tMs country and you say they do not lie deliberately. Do you remember that day marcMng down to ‘Ain Sala, when I wanted to go aside to visit Adraj on the way and ’AM told us it was distant a day’s journey ? Afterwards we went to Adraj, as you know, and when I drew it on my map I found it was but an hour’s ride from our route. Tell me, did ’Ali really not know or was it otherwise ? You speak sooth, he repMed, ’AM Med but he was tMnMng of our need of water. WeU then, I went on, only tMs morning Ihn Humaiyid, who is our guide now and went with ’AM and Zayid to spy out the way to Ziqirt, told us to hasten, as you know, saying that we would not come to the place before sunset if we marched hard. You have seen how we have marched tMs morning. You all stopped to hunt that hare and you stopped again for coffee and I have walked on my feet. We have marched slowly and it is but noon. Now tell me — ^how far is Ziqirt 1 Ziqirt ! he exclaimed, why, that is yet afar off, very
212 THE EMPTY QUARTER
far off. God knows if we will come to it by tMs evening. Ibn Humaiyid says it is yet a long way off. Look you ! I answered, do you see that great dune before us a little way off perhaps an hour’s riding ? That is Ziqirt ! Now, what say you ? That Ziqirt ! he almost shouted with indignant dismay, who told you so ? Do you know better than the guides 1 No, I replied very suavely, but Ibn Humaiyid told L aU that Bani Riman was five ranges, two before and two beyond the middle one in w'hich is Naifa ; he told us that beyond them were two more ranges without name, and beyond them Hamran Ziqirt, five ranges with the watering in the last of them. We have crossed four of these and there is the fifth before us. I have counted them and you have not. That is the difference. Only there is no Ahal there for fire¬ wood, though God is bountiful. But say, is Ibn Humai^d, who kme here but yesterday, in error or is it otherwise ? And as for the heat in my heart, may be that God put it there when he created me, but it is you folk that enflame it with your contrariness.
So we tried to understand our mutual differences as we rode on towards our companions in advance, who had come to a halt at the edge of the rolling plain at the further side of the fourth range. Oh, Shaikh ’Abdullah, shouted Ibn Humaiyid as we came up, look you, the well is yet distant and this is the last of the good pastures on the way. We would spend the night here, and when the camels have had their fill, they will march better in the mormng. Very well, I rephed, but it is too early yet, so let us march bu^n hour more to yonder ridge and we will camp beyond it. The game was up as they aU knew only too well, and we crawled on for less than an hour over an easy gradient of undulating red-brown sands which shaded off imperceptibly mto the whiter masses of the dune summits. And from the top^ ot the range we looked down into the cup-like rock depression of Ziqirt, only 15 miles from Naifa. A short day s march to the eastward hes the watering of Bainha with that ot Dahbuba only a mile from the latter westward.
An eagle, a pair of ravens and some larks and warblers had been observed during the march but, with my gun out ot
ning.
'u! I i way what ;nant a the I told i two ! that , and ing in there e not. r fire- -aiyid, wise ? put it a-me it
as we I come side of d Ibn iistant r. We ve had weU,I n hour e game ded on ulating ito the top of )ression arch to bhat of
^■arblers a out of
visited tlie before desc our aiiinial! the narro'^ arrived abc of the local bedrock w] Mgh (as ni' 262 paces emerges fr< great cirqu sandy floor this face oJ of about 2C westerly ki this rock overlying t shafts) has inclination higher lev€ near its w^c a g3rpseou£ it falls to strown wi‘ calcareous fragments banqnets,- my attent: we awaite< Whethe: known or ] to the daj uncle of th 1890 with
hostile yoi
BITTER WATERS
213
action, our bag was empty. I disnioimted on tlie ridge and visited tlie conspicuous conical peak already mentioned before descending the steep saiid-slope to the hollow, where our animals, having fetched the necessary circuit to get to the narrow bottle-neck entrance to the well depression, arrived about the same time as myself. The chief feature of the locality is a very imposing display of the underlying bedrock which stands up in a regular cliff, about 40 feet high (as measured from the bottom of the depression) and 262 paces (about 650 feet) long from the point where it emerges from the steep sand-slope round the head of the great cirque to that at which it disappears again under the sandy floor of the entrance valley. The general direction of this face of rock, whose upper surface is exposed to a width of about 200 feet, is from ENE. to WS W. with a slight south¬ westerly kink at about mid-course. So far as I could judge, this rock (presumably a calcareous limestone formation overlying the characteristic sandstone of the floor and well- shafts) has a gentle dip of 5'" from XW. to SE. and a similar inclination along its main axis from XE. to SW. On a higher level than the platform and southward of it, as also near its vresterii extremity, I, found some curious mounds of a g3rpseous character, while along the face of the clifl, where it falls to the level of the wells, is a glacis of sand thickly strowm with the debris and large blocks of the blue-grey calcareous rock. I found a single rough flint and innumerable fragments of Oryx bones — doubtless the remains of many banquets, — ^but otherwise there was little enough to occupy my attention during the time of our enforced idleness while we awaited the return of our emissaries.
Whether or not there were wells here in former times, the known or remembered history of this locality goes back only to the days of the Wahhabi ruler, 'Abdullah ibn Faisal, the uncle of the present Eling, who ruled the country from 1867 to 1890 with an interval of several years, during which his hostile younger brother usurped Ms throne. In those days, probably about 1870, one of the Ghafran Shaikhs, Muham¬ mad ibn Suwailih of the Banna section, had enrolled himself as a young man in 'Abdullah's army and was in regular
214
THE EMPTY QUARTER
attendance on Ms sovereign at Riyadh. He was of course accompanied by a following of Ms tribesmen with their tents and famihes, and with Mm was Ms own family consist¬ ing only or mainly of Ms mother. According to the honour¬ able custom of Arabia the maintenance of the whole party devolved on the State Treasury, and it so happened that one day the steward in charge of the distribution of rations sent away the young Shaikh’s mother empty-handed. She informed her son, who immediately sought the royal presence with vigorous complaints against the dispenser of the royal hospitahty. Get you to work for your mother ! the prince had replied peevisMy. On my head ! Muhammad had repMed, the ordering is the Bang’s ordering. With that he had withdrawn with Ms following into the pastures of the Rub‘ al Khali, whence he had fared forth with seven other kindred spirits to make war on the world. The little band soon came to be known as AZ Ziqirt^ — ' the gens d’armes ’ as we might say — ^by reason of their constitution as a mihtary force under active service conditions, i.e. without women¬ folk or other encumbrances. The wilder spirits of the south¬ ern sands — from the RasMd, ManaMl and other tribes — hastened to join the campaign of raiding and Mghway robbery that was initiated by the gang, whose first act had been to establish a base of operations in some unknown and unfrequented spot. Having selected a likely looking place they had proceeded to dig these wells, by wMch we were now encamped, and the watering has ever since commem¬ orated in its name the memory of their once famous exploits. Another district, far off to the north, and north-eastward of Haradh, has earned from those same exploits the name of Hawair al Ziqirt — apparently a pasture tract with depres¬ sions liable to retain water for a few weeks or months after rain.
Of the three wells of Ziqirt one appeared to be quite ' dead ’ although the marks of the haulage ropes are clearly visible — deeply scored in the rock mouth of the shaft. The
1 The term is derived through the Turkish from the Italian ‘ sacurta ’ or French ‘ secuiite,’ just as the common Turkish (and Arabic) word for police, Sharta,’ is derived from ‘ surete.’
215
BITTER WATERS
second, similarly dead, was all but Mddeii from view by the covering sand, wMle the tMrd we found— somewhat to our surprise for ’All had reported it dead — merely covered over in the usual way. It was accordingly opened up for the watering of the camels and wa:.s found to be about 20 feet deep. It is a brine well and is regarded as potable though more potent than that of Naifa, wherefore my companions eschewed it as we had full skins of the latter to last us till Shanna.
To ease the strain of our recent disagreements and to en¬ courage a sharp look-out I had on our arrival offered a reward of 10 dollars for the first man to spot our returning envoys. But night came upon us with never a sign of them, and the only incident of the late afternoon was the arrival of Salim and Hasan, hungry, thirsty and disgruntled after their long, vain search for Oryx, lifext day the last of our tryst vdth Za3''id — the dune tops were manned by eager searchers while Earraj, steaMng a march upon Ms fellows, borrowed my glasses and went out far afield to win the dollars. The afternoon wore on without result, and I was beginning to resign myself to the prospect of another wasted day , when Earraj came running into camp a little before sunset. Good news ! he cried, I bring you good news of the coming of Zayid and 'Ah. I saw them afar off yonder and I came quickly to tell you. Come they alone I asked, or are there others mth them ? I saw but two riders, he repHed. And a few minutes later I saw Zapd and 'Ali riding down through the narrow entrance of the depression.
They had been to Bir Hadi and Shanna and Turaiwa and scoured all the countryside, but nowhere had they seen any signs of Arabs. So they had returned empty-handed. You should have gone further, I suggested, into the dunes of Qa'amiyat, Perhaps you would have found the tribes there hunting the Oryx i It was a bow drawn at a venture, but their sudden, startled, guilty look suggested that the shaft had gone home. They had visited the wells, it is true, and had drawn blank, but they had spent several days seeking not Arabs but Oryx. I was only afraid that their report would augment the general desire to get back home as soon
216 the empty quarter
possible oul3 of tiilis Stbs-'iicloiieci wilderiicss. Buij I WO/S dkerinined 'to resist any such, tendency with all my vigour. For many days nov I had endured the constant and inevitable friction engendered by the struggle between the insistent urge of my ovm fixed and unalterable purpose and the sohd weight of the innate national inertia thrown into the balance against me by the united body of my companions. Their passive resistance had to be resisted at all costs. Surrender to it would mean failure, but the victory had to be won by a slow process of attrition, and I comforted myself with the reflection that in a month or so at most they would all forget their present woes in the satisfied contemplation of the earnings of their travail. Step by step we had progressed ever away from their home fires, but each step had been achieved only by the smallest margin as the momentum of a purposeful mind triumphed at each stage over the inert mass ever ready to recoil from any arduous objective.
After dinner that evening I summoned Farraj to receive his reward and encouraged his petty soul to think of the further guerdons to be won by further service. Then I was free to attend to Zayid and ’Ah, who came to my tent to discuss our plans for the future. I began well by making each of them an unexpected present of 30 pieces of silver for their recent exertions. Look you, I said, all these last days we have marched but little and the camels are rested. Time is short and I would get to the south without delay, that we may turn back through the Oryx country to Wadi Dawasir and thence home to Mecca for the pilgrimage, to which there are but two months from now. So let us march well to Shanna — ^the country is empty before us and we have nought to fear — and then we can decide whither to direct our march. Maybe we can leave our camp there and go down southward with only a small party. But let us start early on the mor¬ row. They had probably agreed among themselves not to go beyond Shanna on any account but did not attempt to argue that point now. The immediate objective was enough to agree upon, and the matter was settled in the most amic¬ able manner.
A load of anxiety was thus removed from my mind and I
217
BITTER WATERS
was left to enjoy in peace the charm of another astonishingly heautiful night. The light of the moon and the two great planets, reinforced by the more modest brilliance of Sirius and Canopus, was seemingly filtered to the earth through a veil of haze, and the solid sand-cliffs round our camp took on the appearance of a gossamer curtain suspended before some fairy stage.
Next morning (February ISth) the baggage train was got off at 6.30, carrying with it our destined morning meal of rice all ready cooked in its cauldron. An hour later we started up out of the hollow and over the intervening plain to the Bani Khuwairan tract— a belt of short tumbled ridges and disordered dune groups which here interrupts the normal symmetry of the long parallel ridges of the Sawahib area. For about five miles we laboured through this maze, in which the Abal reappeared after its short absence in the Ziqirt district and the Zahr continued in unwonted profusion. All went merrily as a marriage bell until we came to the first of a series of parallel dune ranges lying NE. and SW., which constitute the district knomi as Bani Nasir from the conspicuous conical hillock of Huqna Nasir in its midst. Here to my^ dismay we overtook the baggage animals in spite of their good start and, somewhat foolishly, I suggested amid signs of universal satisfaction that we should dispose of our meal without further ado. The yellow flowers of the ZaJiT were here in abundance, making a charming scene for our picnic, and I was minded to seek insects while the rest had their coffee. Unfortunately I had not noticed that there was no Abal in this particular spot, and I was horrified at the suggestion that a second halt should be made for coffee when we came to suitable fuel. Good-bye, I thought, to all hope of any real progress. And, suiting my action to the thought, I continued the march on foot in company with the baggage train while my own party hastened on to find a desert hearth for their coffee. ’Ali, doubtless thinking of the pleasant shekels of yesternight and of others to follow, pur¬ sued me on foot to the conical sand-peak of Huqnat al Msh’ab where, slightly in advance of the baggage, I was enjoying the view. Tom between his own internal clamour
218 THE EMPTY QUARTER
for coffee and a genuine desire to accompany me, he exerted himself to the utmost to deflect me in the direction of the others but, failing in that object, sped away to share the stimulating hquor.
I continued walking and, as a matter of fact, walking was definitely pleasanter in that lovely, soft, sandy country with its'^steep ridges than the devious, lurching progress of the labouring camels. However, after three hours of it when Sa’dan came up with my steed, I mounted without protest and so we continued over the frequent ridges until the latter part of the afternoon, when we halted for prayers at a small patch of dazzhng white gypsum exposed amid the sands, in which just before we had passed over the wide¬ spread and still unobhterated tracks, about a month old, of camels at pasture — presumably, they thought, those of Jabir ibn Fasl and others who had been with him before he went north.
An hour later we entered the district of Rani J afnan with its prominent eponymous cone (Huqna Jafnan) a httle way off to the south-west. In this tract the characteristic paral¬ lelism of the Sawahib formation is resumed, but its out¬ standing feature is the marked frequency of horseshoe hol¬ lows enclosed within sharply inchned, wedge-shaped shutes. In one such pit at the very beginning of the tract we found a small exposure of the rock-floor underlying the sands, where the discovery of a fox earth and other indications con¬ vinced us all of the concealed presence of a buried well. We labelled it Bir Jafnan and passed on to camp amid excellent and varied^ vegetation on a wide gently rolling plain between low, bare dune ranges.
We had only marched about 25 nules during the day but, even so, the latter part of the journey had been accompanied by the music of loud protests from the traihng rear. Farraj, who was with ’Ah and me in the van, acted as ampHfier to the unwelcome strains and lectured me on the proper care of camels. I pointed out that we had taken a fortnight over a march of about 100 miles and suggested that the camels could graze by moonhght. He declared that that was un- ^ Zahr, Ahal, Andah, Alqa and Birkan,
BITTER WATERS
219
tliiiikable, but did not refer to tbe point later on wlien the camels were rounded up and driven into camp after two good hours in the moonlit pastures. The night was certainly a.-s light as day, and the conditions were so pleasant that I dispensed with my tent, preferring to sleep under the sky.
There had however been an undercurrent of tension in our ranks all day for a curious reason. Quite early in the proceedings I had asked Abu Ja'sha how he was feeling and was a little astonished at Ms rough reply, wMeh doubtless voiced the sentiments of the whole party. Rotten, he had answered, for have we not all laboured for you alike ? And yet you pick out two only of our number to gladden with gifts^. We do not deny that Za^dd and ’AM deserved what they got, but we all deserve it and we object to their getting something while we go empty. Come, come ! I had repMed, those gifts were for a special service, and you will all be remembered when the time comes — %vhen we get to the Hadhramaut, and that is why I want to hasten over these stages, that I may reward you the sooner.
That did not appease their evil, envious souls and the next to take up the argument was Farraj Mmself, who had not informed the others of the gift he had had from me and whom I did not betray. But the comedy deepened when Zayid appeared before me and poured Ms 30 shekels upon my pallet, declaring that he had dishonoured Mmself in accepting them of me. I told Mm candidly that such behaviour was offensive to me and warned Mm to tMnk again. He per¬ sisted, however, and I sent for Abu Ja’sha. Here, I said as he came up, here are 30 dollars for you ! He had declared that in such circumstances he would never have accepted a gift for Mmself alone, but now as he stuffed the silver into Ms bosom I did not spare Mm. It was you, I said, who made all the fuss and pother about my giving money to those two., And see how God has rewarded you ! Without a word he bundled the coins back out of Ms bosom on to my bedding. I immediately took up the pile and threw it aside on to the sand. Please yourself, I said, take it or leave it. It matters not to me, but leave me in peace, I have work to do. He then picked up the money and went back to Ms fellows, while
220
THE EMPTY QUARTER
next morning I summoned Mm to pick up one coin that he had overlooked. I learned afterwards that the money had been returned to Zayid, whose well-meant effort to force me to a general distribution of bounty at a most unsuitable moment had thus been frustrated.
In spite of tMs incident — and possibly because of it— a very special effort was made next day to record better progress than heretofore. In the midst of my slumbers I sensed an unwonted activity in the camp at an atrociously early hour and the baggage actually started off before I was aroused by an unusually early call to prayer. The baggage thus got a start of more than two hours on us, and I wandered about after dawn, stalking an eagle which had taken up its position on a peak of the neighbouring dune range. I managed to get witMn reasonable range, but the shot from my little revolver only disturbed the sand close to the bird, wMch flew off to appear no more. The tracks of bustard were very plentiful here but the haste of our marcMng allowed of no pursuit although on one occasion three of them got up from under our feet. Wheatears and warblers were also seen in plenty and, as I was packing up, I had become aware of a little tragedy. The previous day we had secured a hare and Sa’dan, having skinned it, had laid the pelt and skull — tMckly smeared with arsenical soap — ^by my bedside to dry. In the morning I found no trace of either, and the tell-tale sand soon revealed the identity of the tMef, who was none other than the Saluqi bitch. She must have swallowed both skull and skin, and it was evident, as she marched with us that day, that she was feeling acutely the effects of her surreptitious, poisoned supper. At every other bush she lay down uneasily seeking shelter from the sun and scrabbling away the sand to get at the cool under-surface. But by the evening she had more or less recovered from her indisposition.
MeanwMle we made excellent progress over the ridges and valleys of Bani Jafhan — an immense sandy expanse of sea¬ like troughs each beginning wdth a lofty rounded wave break¬ ing southward. The general colouring of the tract was a light brownish red wdth a very copious covering of the desert vegetation, in whose midst here and there we observed a
BITTER WATERS
221
good deal of camel dung from the prerioiis season’s grazing. On two occasions we passed hy small exposures of the nnder- lying rock in horseshoe cavities of dunes and, at about noon when we came up with the baggage after more than four hours’ marching, Earraj, who was an intelligent and obser¬ vant desert craftsman, called our attention to the first shrub of Hadl marking our exit from Bani Jafnan into the fairly extensive tract of Hadhat abu Kliasliba, so-called from a cone peak of that name lying about a mile north-eastward of the ridge on whose summit we halted for lunch. By this time ’AM and some others were positively fainting for a sip of coffee and we were all, indeed, so hungry after a reallj* good morning’s work that we proceeded to over-eat ourselves. Whether that was the cause or, as some averred, the excess of salt in the Naifa water after several days in the skins, we all showed signs of weariness during an unusually sultry afternoon with the result that all idea of making a forced march to Shamia during what remained of the day was abandoned.
Just before our lunch, bait we bad crossed tbe tracks lett by Zayid and ’All on their outward journey to Sbanna, while mild consternation was created in our ranks by the dis¬ covery almost immediately afterwards of the fairly recent tracks of a considerable raiding party. It was this discovery that necessitated our halt at that moment for it was essential that the matter should be investigated. They are of Sa’ar or, maybe, Dawasir, declared ’Ali, for their camels are of the steppe and not of the sands. You see how heavily they have trodden. It may be ten days ago or less that they passed, perhaps six or seven but probably before Zayid and I went down to Shanna. We saw not the tracks then for we passed here during the night.
As we marched a brief diversion was created by a snake which charged, upright and rapidly zig-zagging, through our ranks and took refuge amid the tangled roots of an Abal bush. After a vain search w^e set fire to the dry shrub but failed to coax the reptile out into the open again. Another halt was called at a small exposure of rock in a characteristic dune hollow, and a cursory search was rewarded by the
222 THE EMPTY QUARTER
discovery of a sprinkling of spiral shells. And so we came at about 3.30 p.m. to our evening camp at the edge of an exten¬ sive patch of gypsum, facing a horseshoe cliff, with a steep escarpment whose summit stood some 40 feet above the sandv pit-floor. This exposure seemed to be of sufficient importance to be christened, at ’Ali’s suggestion, Umm al Qurun— a name which the following morning we extended to include a similar but smaller outcrop of rock in a neighbour¬ ing hollow about 500 yards away.
By now I was utterly weary and glad enough to camp after a march of only a httle more than 20 miles. The salt or the sultriness had suddenly sapped my energy, and I lay down to sleep sormdly for an hour or so in the lengthening shadow of one of my boxes. On this occasion as at our last camp I dispensed with the tent and the night was delightful. The great sheet of white gypsum glistened in the bright moonlight and the sands around us seemed to enclose the scene with a veil of mystery.
Next morning we still marched for more than an hour in the Hadhat abu Khashba tract, which was dotted with fre¬ quent rock exposures, to one group of which — a wide, flat, plate-like circle of grey-blue rock with two small patches of white g5rpsum near it — ^we gave the name of Umm al Sah- na.i-nd The country had now degenerated into a broken, reddish down-tract with frequent short lines of dunes, until we came to a long double ridge beyond which we entered the Hadh-\ess tract of Ramla (or Khilla) Daugha, whose name- cone lay at some distance to our right out of sight, commem¬ orating the fruitless labours of some of the Ghafran in an attempt to dig down to water through a rock exposure in its side. A little beyond this point we halted on the north side of a ridge overlooking the rolling downs and valleys of the Shanna country to give Zayid and another sufficient time to prospect the approaches to the well before our oncoming.
After a decent interval, during which ’Ali had pointed out to me all the familiar landmarks of what he regarded as the home pastures of his own folk, we slowly resumed our march. Three bustard flew away before us, and a little
^ Mother of two plates.
lb) BOTCHING A CAMEL’S FEET LACERATED BY MARCHING ON GRAVEL. (See page 145
To race page 222
colony of five wai Everyv'here about ' and- gypsum, to on fox going away acr^ sprinkled with. grit, ments and some 1 fragments of a stoi worthy of common al Tina from its e£ along but at a lit valley of exposed | Thule of our south
223
bitter Wx4TERS
colony of five warblers was disturbed by our passage. Everyw^bere about us lay smaller or greater patches of rock and gvpsum, to one of which we turned aside at sight oi a fox going away across its bed of greyish clay or loam hghtly sprinkled with grit. Here we found a number ot flint imple¬ ments and some bits of stone which have proved to be fragments of a stony meteorite^ ; and the occasion seemed woW of commemoration. So we named the spot Emm al Tina from its earthy nature, and an hour later, passing along but at a little distance from an almost continuous vaUey of exposed gypsum patches, we came to the LUima Thule of our southward wanderings.
1 See Appendix.
CHAPTER V
SHANNA
The land of foes, the land of fear !
— Zayid.
The well of Shaima, situated though, it is at the meeting of all the southern tracks, dates back only to the season of 1929-30 when for two reasons a large body of the Ghafran Murra found themselves foregathered in the neighbourhood with their tents and their cattle. The northern pastures of the Hasa, whither this section of the tribe is wont to betake itself in the winter months after its customary summer sojourn in the heart of A1 Rimal, had become uncomfortable by reason of the alarums and excursions of Faisal al Duwish, who had raised the more fanatical and unreasoning elements of the Ikhw^an in rebellion against their liege-lord the Wahhabi King. Loyal and peaceful tribes had thus become liable to attack by the fanatics, while on the other hand their assumed loyalty was liable at any moment to bring down on them an unwelcome invitation to take up arms in the Government’s cause against their erring brethren of the faith. A discreet distance from the scene of action had thus become an obvious desideratum during the early autumn of 1929 and the Murra had the advantage of the vast expanse of the Rub' al Khali wherein to choose a safe retreat till the storm should end or abate. That advantage was however somewhat circumscribed by pastoral conditions, and it was only in the Shanna neigh¬ bourhood that rains had been sufficiently recent and abun¬ dant to offer favourable pastures for the Ghafran camels. The supreme drawback of the district lay in the disagreeable salinity of its numerous scattered wells, from which a large part of the tract has derived the name of Al Khiran^ ; and it was this disadvantage, of more moment to the men and
^ Pltiral of Khaur {Khor), meaning ‘ marine estuary,’ — cf. Khor ’Abdullah near Basra — or simply ‘ salt water.’
224
women of tlie part of their li the desert, tha wide over the their prolonge be only snmm' It was our lighted on Sh with exposed ; side and that, taught the de no means of ( be found. T] merciful disp salt, they wo without too g without disco they would e: less briny th would dig on h41i had dug depth of 55 f it Shanna — j bitterness tb From that < grazing or n sands and € danger. No none remaii necessary tc offending well for 48 ] King’s cam' frayed as m' of unwelcor Some da3 the country Shanna anc by the we]
SHANISTA
women of the tribe than to their camels which drew^a good part of their liquid nourishment from the succulent herbs oi the desert, that sped various members of the Ghafran far and wide over the country in search of pleasanter sources du^g their prolonged sojourn in what they normally considered to be only summer pastures. , t i xi. +
It was our chief guide, ’Ali ibn Salih ibn Jahman, that lighted on Shanna, a typical hoUow amid the desert sands ^th exposed patches of the underlying gj^seous rock on this side and that. It was in just such spots that experience had taught the desert tribes to look for water, though they had no means of divining the character of the hqmd that mgh be found. They would dig and trust to God, and it was a merciful dispensation of Providence that, if the water ^ salt, they vfonld come to it at comparatively shallow levels without too great an effort of labour. The deeper they wen without discovery of moisture the more certain it becamethat thev would either never come to water at all or would find it less briny than that of the familiar shallow Pits^ So^the^ would dig on, having nothing very much better to do , and ’ 41i had dug down his narrow shaft in the soft gypsum ^ depth of 55 feet before he came to what he sought it Shanna-sweet water, if you please, with ]ust a of
bitterness therein, the best water of all the neighbourhood^ Prom that day to this Shanna has been the J;aSig or raiLg tribesmen, a fount of life m f fands and equaUy for that reason a source of death and danger. Noi approaches Shanna but with circi^pection ; nXemains theL, on the well itself, longer than may he necessary to water the beasts and fiU the skms. ’fi'e were offending against the canons of the desert m occupyi^ the weU for 48 hours, but were we not the King’s men ^th the T.t we „mained ne^o^y. ^ frayed as much by the uncertainty of our plans as by the fear
“'s^Xe^Tzayid and ’Ad Jalnnan, the countryside in vain for signs of grazmg Arabs, had ^ited scored ao King’s brand-mark in by the weU’s mouth by way of declarmg our ident y
226
THE EJIPTY QUARTER
precaution calculated to warn off all but those who might be strong enough and willing to provoke the King’s wrath. As Jabir ibn Easl had told us at Jabrin there were none such in the desert at this time. The southern tribes, receiving news of our expedition from Saif ibn Tannaf the Manhali Shaikh who had hurriedly departed from the Hasa only a few days before us on the rejection of his gifts and overtures by Ibn Jiluwi, had retired to the southern mountains, while such Miirra elements as had remained in the south with the Rashid relatives-in-law of Hamad ibn Sultan ibn Hadi — Bertram Thomas’ guide of the previous year and a near cousin of ’Ali Jahman — similarly preferred to keep at a safe distance from our path lest our purpose might be to collect the taxes which for the moment they were not bothering to pay into the King’s treasury. So the desert was empty and our scouts, preceding us by about half an hour, were able to signal ' all clear ’ as we approached the well from behind the dune- range skirting the northern edge of the valley-like depression in which it lay. Not only was there no one on the scene, but no one had visited the place since the departure of Zayid and ’Ah some six days earher.
At the foot of the sand-slope leading down to the hollow we passed by the grave of some desert notable slain in a tribal skirmish during the last year or two. Its oval outline was decked out with blocks of gypsum from the 40 feet cliffs of the exposed bed-rock extending in two sections, separated by a considerable gap, across the Shanna depression. In the lowest part of the hollow lay the well, and at some distance further to the south-west a small rock-marked semi-circle, oriented exactly towards the north-west, indicated the direc¬ tion of Mecca and the position of the place set apart for the prayers of the faithful. Here and there a desert bush of Abal or Hadh dotted the scene. Our tents were pitched forth¬ with, the camels watered and driven forth to the pastures of the valley under the care of ’Ali al Buhaihi and the lad Muhammad. A jSre was soon alight for the making of coffee. Zaid and his lieutenant got to work with their preparations for dinner and others sped off, rifle in hand, to the surround¬ ing sand-peaks to keep the customary vigil against possible
enemies or roundings a vide for the Climbing on an exte: and sinking ciilar depre what crate: surface of i gested that ancient lak or invaUdai upon a sma and four in buried wel ioned me a-iid used b for their ies pounded oi yield their ' A long li g^rpseous r« the valley about a m covered wi' charming ; hut little k At Shanna the g}^suii in a north¬ line of thes strongly to dried-up be paratively the suppos But, it was further evi< able quant
SHAKXA
227
enemies or chance visitors. I sallied ont to examine our siir- roiindiiigs and to collect such speeinieiis as Shiinia might pro- vide for the British i^hisenm — rocks or insects or other things.
Climbing the clifi to eastward of -rsiir camp I fninid iiivself on an extensive patch of gypsum, roughly circular in form and sinking gently from its outer perimeter to a smaller cir¬ cular depression lightly covered with sand and grit, its some¬ what crater-like appearance, together with the roiiglieiied surface of the gyjisiiiii, churned up as if by the wind, sug¬ gested that this might possibly be the desiccated sit^ of an ancient lake or pond ; but I found nothing either to confirm or invaMdate such an impression. Near by, however, I came upon a small circular shallow pit, only three feet in diameter and four inches in depth, which I took to be an ancient and buried well-moiitli until some of my companions disifius- ioned me with the inforiiiatioii that siicli hollows are made a-iid used by the Badawiii vcoiiieii for the extraction of dye for their leather goods from the juicy shoots of the Abal bush, pounded on sheets of leather laid over the pit, until they yield their tannin.
A long line of scattered, discontinuous patches of exposed g^jpseous rock extended south-westward from this point up the valley between the dune -ranges on either hand l^ing about a mile apart. The valley itself was fairly thickly covered with the desert scrub of various kinds including the charming yellow-flowered Zahr, apparently unknown or but little known in the northern parts of the Rub’ al Khali. At Slianna itself the northern dune-range cuts straight across the g}^sum valley-bed which, however, continues beyond it in a north-easterly direction for a mile or more. The whole line of these exposed patches of the bed-rock suggested very strongly to my mind the possibility of its being in fact the dried-up bed of an ancient river. The very fact that the com¬ paratively deep sweet-water well of Shanna lay in the line of the supposed valley tended to confirm such an impression.. But ..it was not till the following day that my search for further evidence was rewarded by the discovery of a consider¬ able quantity of little spiral ff esh-water shells^ in the hollow
» ^ Melanoides tuberculatai see Appendix.
228 the empty QUARTER
itself at the foot of the cliffs. AH the aTailable evidence points, therefore, to the conclusion that the Shanna hollow and valley represent the site of an ancient river or fresh- water lake ; and I was glad to think that I had discovered better support than mere conjecture for the theory I had advanced after a study of Mr. Thomas’ land-levels some months earlier^ that the shallow depression shown by his figures in the Shanna neighbourhood might well be the eastern continuation of the great Wadi Dawasir channel whose upper reaches, trending slightly south of east, I had seen at Sulaiyil in 1918. Such a theory was indeed to find further substantial confirmation in the desert westward of Shanna as I shall have occasion to show in due course, but it must for the present suffice to leave the facts, as ascertained up to the moment of our sojourn at Shanna, to speak for themselves. It may however be sug¬ gested that the underlying gypseous surface of the Khiran tract, whose existence is proved by the occurrence of frequent exposures amid the tumbled sands, and the shallow salt-wells of that area, contribute strong evidence of the existence in these parts of a great marine bay or gulf formed by the uplift of the mountains of the Oman and Qara provinces during or after the Eocene epoch. Such a gulf might have been gradually filled up by the silt of the rivers pouring down into it from every direction, or might have been raised above the sea-level partly by that process and partly by a tectonic uphft of the land-surface until the whole area was exposed to the devastating influence of blown sand from the ‘ desert’s dusty face ’ and became what it is to-day— an ocean of dunes.
It seems indeed probable that Shanna itself lies not far dis¬ tant from the point at which Wadi Dawasir in ancient times poured its waters into the sea, whose shore-fine, still clearly recognisable in the Miocene cliffs of the Jiban tract, may well have run southwards along the Summan uplands west of Jabrin to form a bay near Maqainama, whence it would have run east round the deep-well salient of Bir Eadhil and Tuwairifa (near the mouth of Wadi Maqran), to continue thence again southward along the western side of the Ain ^ J.R.G.S., December, 1931, pp. 674-5.
I
[iuil
SHANKA
229
Sala-Ziqirt tract to Shanna. From, here the line woii,lcl have run east to Muqsliin, whence it would liaTC worked northward along the western foot-' of the Oina.ii m,oii,Etaiiis to rejoin the present Persian Gulf in the neiglihourhood of Masandam. Such a line is of course largely a matter of conjecture but may surely be regarded provisionally as being in general accord with the known facts until other sections of this vast unknown area are traversed and examined by future explorers.
A gentle north-east breeze^ soft and warm, breathed over us that afternoon as I wandered up the valley towards our grazing camels to seek out Muhaminad, alway-s a willing ally in my designs on the elusive lizards and, birds of the desert. My shot-gun being now hopelessly out of action, I was reduced to using a pocket revolver on the tiny targets pre¬ sented by small birds, distant and restless. I had just missed a shrike— the only one seen during the Journey— when from afar off towards the north-east a rifl,e-shot rang out clearly in the still air. I imagined that one of m,y coinpaiiioiis had per¬ haps fired at a hare for the pot, but "we were soon undeceived. We were about a mile from t,he camp, and the movements of our distant companions left little doubt that the shot had been fired as an alarm-signal. There seemed to be a general movement towards the ridge beyond our tents, and Muham¬ mad was able to interpret the raucous sounds emitted in our direction as orders to drive in the camels. In a moment the quiet peaceful valley seemed to be alive with human activity , and I helped Muhammad to round up the nearest camels while ’Ali did the same for those further away. Slowly vre moved towards the tents trying to interpret, as we w^ent, the significance of the little knots of our companions occup}dng scattered points of vantage some distance beyond them or moving hither and thither under cover of the dune-ridges. Leaving Muhammad to drive in the animals to camp, I struck across the valey to ascertain the cause of the commotion from a group of men occupying the summit of a great dune. The warning had, it appeared, been fired by Farraj who, as he kept watch, had spotted three men riding towards Shanna from the eastward. If only he had remained hidden and
230
THE EIMPTY QUARTER
silent those men would by now have been our prisoners, and we should have been in a strong position to bargain with their friends, few or many, following in the rear. But Earraj had lost his head. The three men ‘ saw him and beat it at their best speed away from us. Our people had seen and followed their tracks for some distance before abandoning the chase. We had gained no advantage from our superior posi¬ tion, and all that night we remained (while I slept) pre¬ cariously on the alert. The night was cold enough in all conscience for those on guard on the exposed dune-tops, and it was a chilly crowd that gathered round our camp-fire to make coffee before the dawn prayer next morning.
Meanwhile Zayid and others had spent much of the night arguing and quarrelling with me about our future plans. And we had made no progress towards a decision. I had indeed become convinced that the whole incident was a put-up job, a false alarm dehberately conceived and played through at some inconvenience to the players for the purpose of putting an end to our wanderings. The more I think over the details of the matter, the more convinced I become that that was the case. What think you 1 said Zayid, sidhng into my tent with Sahh and seating himself humbly on the sandy floor. I think nothing, I replied curtly ; Earraj is an ass to have shown himself hke that and frightened away those three men, who would have been able, perhaps, to guide us to the wells of the south. Let us follow up their tracks in case we may come to their encampments. We cannot do that, he an¬ swered in the sanctimonious hsping accents so characteristic of him. Look ye, the land of the Muslimin is away behind us from here to Jabrin ; before us lies the land of the enemy, the land of fear. We caimot venture into it without peace¬ makers.^ We are frightened. We are in danger. We must not linger here. We must go back. What think you, oh Shaikh ? I think, I rephed, that we should go forward to the southward as you promised me we should. Surely, Zayid, you are not frightened at sight of three men ! It was true
^ Shafuh wa taqqu,
^ SUmf pl-ural Sulum, the word generally used for the usual northern term of Eajiq (or Rabija in the south) meaning ‘ introducer ’ or ‘ guarantor.’
SHAmA
231
that we had no one in our party who knew the way to Thamiit or Qabr Hud, the southern wells which I regarded as our obTioTis destination, and that we had no one qualified to introduce us to the Manahil or Sadr, whom we might expect to encounter in that direction. To walk into their camps without introduction ivould be taiitamount, said Zayid, to deliyering their ' bread and butter at their door-step/^ We were in fact more or less ' stymied but it was worth taking a risk. Zayid however wms unlielpfiii and Salih, though blatantly obsequious, was useless. We deferred further argument till next day when h41i Jahnian would have returned from Ms cold vigil far out in the desert. So I left them, to ruiiii,iiate the proposition that it would be worth their while not to be too frightened.
After the dawn prayer — the night having pc%ssed 'wit.hout alarm — we resumed the pow-wow. Zayid a^nd the others had made up their minds not to venture further south on the line suggested by me, and I was compelled to admit to iiiy,self — ■ though I did not do so pubiiciy— that there were reasonable grounds for their attitude. They suggested as an alternative that we should travel south-east with Dhufar as our ultimate objective. There, at any rate, they would find provisions wherewith to replenish our depleted stores. That was a pleasant prospect, wMle the return journey might be made by sea if it had by then become too hot to prolong our desert wanderings. For me such a plan had but little attraction beyond the possibility that we might light upon the Eashid and Hamad ibn Sultan near the SMsar well and with their help arrange to cut back westward into the Hadhramaut border, whence we might strike up across the waterless (jesert — an essential objective of our expe:dition. Otherwise we should be merely covering ground already fully explored by llr. Thomas. Amother alternative was to turn north-east into the eastern KMran area in the hope of finding grazing tribes settled on the wells. But that would take us further away from the waterless area and I feared it might be difficult to entice my companions back to Shanna — especially if we found no Arabs — ^for the great adventure, though I was
^ Rizguhum and
232 THE EMPTY QUARTER
strongly attracted by the prospect of examining the country around Ramlat al Rhu’ait in which Mr. Thomas had suggested a possible alternative site of Wabar (Ubar). I felt however too strongly that the prospect of discovering ruins in this area was but a slender one. So I rejected that alternative and again pressed for a southward prolongation of our march, while my companions suggested that, as the season was already far advanced, we should lose no more time in making the attempt on the waterless desert itself. I kept that alter¬ native mentally in reserve while maintaining my pressure for acceptance of my original plan, and I warned my friends that the consequences of their obstinacy might be unprofitable and unpleasant for themselves in the long run. We discon¬ tinued the argument for the nonce and I resumed my explora¬ tion of Shanna leaving them to think matters over with Sa’dan to watch their dehberations on my behalf.
Sahh strolled out from the camp to seek me out as I sought shells in the ancient river-bed. Of all my companions he was the most charming : the glibbest of bars but ever ready to face pubhc exposure with smihng equanimity ; the frankest self-seeker though incurably optimistic in spite of regular disappointment : the champion and betrayer cf all causes and persons : the friend of all and enemy of none by very reason of his naive and simple dishonesty. None rode a camel more gracefully in the manner of Oman. Large dark- brown eyes and long cmrly tresses combined with a hssome figure and deep, rich, soft voice to give the manliest of men the charm and grace of a woman. Love was his chief obses¬ sion — ^love of women, love of money, of food, of ease and all things good. His belch was a portent, deep drawn from the uttermost recesses of a healthful, untroubled stomach, loud, lingering, lusty and eloquent.
He came to me now, a self-appointed envoy, to betray the dehberations of his companions and Sa’dan later confirmed the details of his treasonable report. My warnings of the King’s possible wrath, coupled with my pressure for a south¬ ward extension of our wanderings, had given them all seri¬ ously to think. To the south they would not go — on that they were fuHy determined, every man of them. My dis-
SHANNA
233
pleasure was therefore inevitable though of little moment except for its possible reverberations in more jiowerful quar¬ ters. The King would be angry on my account ; he might be furious ; he might be terrible in his dealings with those who had betrayed their trust and mission. lim Jiluwi had charged Zayid to avoid avoidable danger. That was pre- ciselv what they were now seeking to do. though I would doubtless put a Afferent interpretation on their conduct ; and Ibn Jiluwi might be angry with them if he thought that the King might be displeased with the manner in which he had discharged the task allotted to him. W hich way lay the best hope of salvation ? They had offered to conduct^ me to Dhufar, they had offered to wander at my will in A1 Khiran ; and they had suggested the march across the waterless desert from where we were. But nothing seemed to satisfy me short of seeking death or danger amid the black moimtains of Hadhramaut. That they would, not face without guides and peacemakers, so their choice lay between the King's wrath and their own master’s. Zayid and others of the party had already experienced punishment at the hands of Ibn Jiluw i - imprisonment for a period with food enough though without the solace of female society. That could be endured again. Suwid bore in three places the terrible scars of Sa’ar daggers which had left him for dead on a never-to-be-forgotten occasion. He could not speak of that day without horror and agonised remembrance. He would not face that again. But what of the King ? What would he do in his anger ? That was the question, and my companions had agreed that the safest course was to return forthwith to the Hasa, to risk the wrath of Ibn Jiluwi and to trust to their own ability to per¬ suade him that I had been dangerously unreasonable in my demands on their patience and endurance.
Thus dramatically confronted with the spectre of complete failure in circumstances which I had certainly not foreseen at any stage of our wrangling arguments, I had to change my tactics. Returning to my tent I summoned Zayid and ’Ali for a consultation, and in a few minutes more than half the party was foregathered round my pallet. We argued and wrangled. I protested that I would on no account go back
2S4
THE EMPTY QUARTER
to the Hasa, They could abandon me if they Hked but that would be very serious for them. They would get no reward from me and would certainly have to face the direst wrath of those who had sent me hither. On the other hand I would no longer insist on the southern journey if they were really afraid of its consequences, and I would guarantee them against the Euiig's ’^vrath by satisfying His Majesty that I had wiUingly embarked on the crossing of the w^aterless desert from Shanna rather than from a more southerly point. But the crossing of the waterless desert was an essential part of my expedition, Ibn Jiluwi had 'warned them of that before we started and any failure in that direction would certainly bring down punish¬ ment on their heads.
Surely but steadily the feehng of the assembly veered round to agreement with my proposals. The prospect of some Oryx-hunting in the waterless desert appealed to those who would do the hunting. The emptiness of the desert reassured the more timid of our companions. And there was always the comforting thought that the enterprise could be abandoned in favour of retreat northwards to the nearest water in the event of its proving unfeasible or excessively uncomfortable. So we agreed in principle to the compromise of a westerly march to be begun on the morrow, and for the time being an atmos¬ phere of friendliness resumed its sway over our counsels. We broke up to meet again half an hour later for the mid-day meal, after which — my companions being present in full force — our ne'w pact was duly sealed by a distribution of largesse. I had intended, I explained, to distribute presents among you on our arrival at the Hadhramaut border, but we have abandoned the idea of going so far to the southward. So Shanna has become the farthest limit of our outward march, and now by agreement our faces are turned homeward to Mecca across the Empty Quarter. I want now to give you some sign of gratitude for your exertions which have brought us so far. My further and final thanks you shall have at Mecca in due course, but take now this bag of dollars and divide it among you as you see fit. Sa’dan, as my servant, shall have no part in it, so you are seventeen to share the money.
SHANNA
235
May God reward you, Shaikh "Abdullah, they replied in unison. How much is there in the ha.2 t asked Ibn Ma'addi. Five hundred dollars, I replied ; wliereupon there was much counting up on hands and some searching of souls. There would be 30 dollars apiece with lit dollar.' short. Well, said Ibn Ma’addi, Zayid and ’Ali had money the other day from Shaikh ’Abdullah. Surely it is they that should set less now. As you please, saidZajddjbutcut it ail from me. Have nofear.I interposed, I will make good the deficiency- come. Abu J a'sha, do you divide the swag among them. So little Ja'slia’s father counted out the silver, thirty pieces to each man sitting round the fire, starting from the right and working round against the clock till he came to Zayid sitting at his left hand. It was a tense moment. Give me twenty, said Zayid, and keep thirty for yourself. Give him his full tale of thirty, I inter¬ posed, unwilling that our leader should remain dependent on mv generosity. So they all had thirty dollars but Abu J a sha, who looked a little crestfallen and sheepish under so public a test of Ms unselfishness or optimism. I moved away back to my tent and privily secreted 20 dollars under m3' pillow. A little later I sent for Abu Ja'sha to move out some of my bag¬ gage in readiness for the morrow’s march — he was the handv man of the party. Have you had the ten dollars ? they asked him afterwards. He did not disappoint me, was his evasive reply, from wMch they knew just enough to salve their guilty consciences but not enough to excite their cupiditvn
Our future course being thus decided by general agree¬ ment, I left the details to Zayid and Ms feUows with a sugges¬ tion that, if they wished, I should have no objection to their making the proposed attempt on the Empty Quarter without tents or other heavy impedimenta, which might be sent back with such of our men and camels as would find the waterless desert too much for their powers of endurance. That is cer¬ tainly what we ought to have done in the circumstances. Both ’Ali Jahman and the Dimnani guides declared that they had never heard of any previous crossing of the desert from Shanna or an3rwhere in the Khiran district to Sulaijil or its neighbourhood. ’Ali’s experience extended to the Qa’amiyat and Hawaya tracts, wMther the Ghafran Murra are wont in
236
THE EMPTY QUARTER
favourable seasons to wander to a distance of four or five days’ journey from Sbanna, Ziqirt and Naifa in search of pas¬ tures for their animals and Oryx or Bim gazelles for the pot. But in such cases they would always return in due course (when their camels needed water)' to their base-wells and would thus never have occasion to penetrate further afield into the inhospitable desert. Similarly, as they well knew, hunting parties frequently enough visited the heart of the waterless desert from the Aflaj and Dawasir districts to shoot Oryx for ultimate sale in their home markets, where the flesh of the unicorn is considered a great and invigorating delicacy. Indeed a complete carcase, properly cured by drying in sun and wind, might well fetch prices as high as LlO, or even L20 in a season of scarcity. Such parties would, however, inevitably return from the hunting-grounds to their familiar waterings and would never want to visit Shanna or other such desert wells even if they could locate them. Suwid had penetrated from Sulaiyil with such parties to the districts of A1 Jalada (Jihda) and Raida on more than one occasion, while Sahm knew the Oryx grounds southwards of Wadi Dawasir towards ISrajran and had crossed the northern fringes of the waterless desert between Maqainama and the Aflaj district and from Bir Fadhil direct to Sulaiyil. Indeed, as they declared, only the more adventurous of the Murra Arabs — men like ’Ali Jahman, Hamad ibn Sultan, Ibn Nifl, Ibn Fasl and some others — ^would go forth hunting in these generally rainless and pastureless districts, while any raiding party that might have occasion to traverse them in any direction would of necessity skirt the desert fringe and keep within reasonable reach of the borderland waterings in order to call at them in case of need.
There was thus obviously no useful object to be served under the normal conditions of Arab life by a direct crossing of this vast waterless wilderness from side to side and, though it was and is perhaps diflS.cult to beheve that such a crossing had never been attempted or accomplished before just for fun or from sheer love of adventure, I can only place on record the fact that neither from my own companions nor from anyone that we met at Sulaiyil or elsewhere could I learn of any such attempt or achievement. It is therefore possible, and perhaps
237
SHANNA
even probable, tbat while no substantial part of the waterless desert has actually remained untrodden by human feet, we were the first party to venture into it with the intention of emerging on the other side. We were certainly the first to embark on such an enterprise with tents and heavj baggage, and it seemed to me before we set out that my companions were guilty of bad desert-craft in deciding to make the at- tempt under so great a handicap. W'e were to suffer dear \ for such foUy. We were in due course to find ourselves on the brink of a disastrous failure. But we were to learn from our experiences a lesson that perhaps pointed the way to ultimate success. For the moment the apparent light-heartedness and cheerfulness of my companions led me to suspect that om enterprise might not prove as alarming as I had imagined, but I was at a loss to guess their motives which in the light of our subsequent experiences seem clear enough. In the first place there was a reasonable prospect of good Oryx-hunting and the Arab is a born hunter as well as a lover of meat and an optimist. The lure of the chase and its savoury results appealed strongly to my companions, while on the other hand they doubtless held in reserve the thought that, if hunting failed and the march proved unpleasant, they could always break away from the venture before it was too late and re¬ treat to the more northerly wells which would be withm reasonable reach during the first few days of the Journej . And it was this factor doubtless that decided them against parting with the more bulky of our stores (the great bap of rice that we carried) in order that they might at least have plenty of food on the easy return journey by the water-route on which perhaps many, if not all of them, were still eoTmtmg.
All day long their preparations went on apace. The 32 waterskins, some of which had got tom and cracked during the journey up to date, were overhauled and botched and greased before being filled from the well and laid out in rows for loading on the morrow. Our stores were similarly divided up into suitable packs, and everything made ship-shape or an early start. The camels were, of course, out at the pastures and a desultory watch for enemies or visitors was kept up a day from the scattered dune-tops, though our decision to
238
THE EMPTY QUARTER
return Eomewards across the empty desert seemed somewhat to have abated the nervous strain of the previous afternoon. In fact everyone seemed remarkably cheerful. In a fortnight, with luck, we might be back in the civilised world where the horror and danger of our present situation would be forgot¬ ten. And above all there was good silver in every saddle-bag with hopes of more in due course in every breast. A good meal of rice and butter and dates after sunset made every one ■^^PPy cheerful. Salim, our guide to be, even spoke of 10 days as the prospective limit of our labours, and I found it necessary to strike a note of warning lest we should go forth in too extravagant a mood. By my calculations the distance before us was some 360 miles as the crow flies, and I wagered that we could not do it in less than 15 days at the most favourable rate of marching achieved by us during the past weeks. It behoved us, therefore, to be careful of our water and to put away thoughts of any food that would re¬ quire water for its cooking. They agreed cordially enough for they had just disposed of a good dinner and were glad enough to see me cheerful in spite of their victory in the day’s arguments. In fact there was no ground for despondency on my part, for we were on the very threshold of a great adven¬ ture which for fourteen years I had regarded as the goal of my ambition.
That night our sentries were posted only on the nearer hills, and the unknown terrors of the south were forgotten with our decision to avoid them. To-morrow, why ? to-morrow we should be homeward bound over an utterly empty and water¬ less waste. We should there at least be safe from enemies, so we slept comfortably in anticipation of that security and, when we assembled for the morning prayer in the chill dark¬ ness of the pre-dawn with the thermometer registering only 40 Fahr,^ our scouts came in from their watching — ^most of them, poor wretches, just tittering with cold. We warmed them up with coffee, and the camels were brought to the well for a final watering before the great ordeal awaiting them, while our cooks prepared our own last meal of rice. Unfor¬ tunately we made a better show of it than the animals, which, having imbibed gallons of water only two days earlier on our
SHAXisA
239
arrival at Slianna, seemed almost nnwilling to drink. For that we were to suffer some days later but we could not think of such things at the moment, and our preparations for a start went forward without fuss or haste. I gave up my tent to be packed and loaded, and spent the few remaining moments of our sojourn by the well in an eleveiithdiour appeal for a change of course to the southward. Such an appeal was doomed to failure, as I knew. Far on beyond the rolling sandy downs dotted with desert scriiti lay that southern horizon of the land of death which none of us had seen and none should see, whose very name inspired in iiiy companions a vague brooding sense of fear and gloom.
By 8.30 a.m. on February 22iid all was ready for our march, and off we started up out of the hollow into the valley south- westward — nineteen men and a dog with 30 of the 32 eainels that had left Diiiaicii ja 47 days earlier . Th ey iioir earried weli- fiiled boxes of desert specimens, to say iiotliiiig of 32 sxins and tw’o barrels of Shaiina wmter. And I chaited my coiiipaiiioiis as we w’-ent, rhyming after their crude desert fasliioii :
We came to Shanna and saw foemen three ;
We fled away for fear of treachery,
Seeking the Wadi where good onions be ! ^
They smiled wanly, eyeing me askance and wondering whether perhaps I might betray them after ail,. Little could they understand the joy that bubbled over in my heart as we breasted up into the great desert at last ! As little did I fathom the dark scheming of their treacherous minds as they marched with me into the unknown.
^ Yaumjina ila Shanna shifna ahl thalaiha Wa sharadMa minhum hhcdfin min al Jchabuiho Maidin al Wadi fiha hhair wa karrctiM,
PART III RUB^ AL KHALI
Q
’Tis this
Despite t agreed to me to Tisi’ Tlie main agreed rei smaller pa the necess the rest d' some ten i over the 1 direction, westward situated i; of the ho] posed gyi and the ss in fact no in despaii reached ; depth of £ factory si subsequei from the < memorial during th Shanna, dyke of s across th«
CHAPTER I
^ THE VERITABLE DESER.T *
’Tis this— that which they named to you as the Empty Quarter !
—‘Alt Jahuan.
Despite the long and strenuous joiirneT before iis we had agreed to make the first day’s march a short one to enafole me to Tisit and inspect all the wells to westward of Siianiia. The main body with the baggage was to march direct to an agreed rendezvous under the guidance of Salim, while my smaller party, including Zayid and lAii Jahiiian, was to make the necessary detour by the wells and in due course rejoin the rest during the afternoon. The baggage-train got awmj some ten minutes ahead of us and passed out into the desert over the left bank of the Shanna valley in a north- wester!} direction, while we marched up the valley itself south- westward to the wells of Arfaja about a mile away and situated in the deep hollow of a horseshoe sand-clifi. Part of the hoUow was occupied by a considerable hillock of ex¬ posed gypseous rock with steep 40-feet cliffs, between which and the sand-slopes round it lay two wells. One of them was in fact no more than a trial shaft which had been abandoned in despair by its excavators before any moisture had been reached ; but the other had reached the water table at a depth of seven fathoms though it had never pelded a satis¬ factory supply and had soon been abandoned. Its shaft had subsequently been filled in almost to the top by blovm sand from the desert, which will doubtless one day obliterate this memorial of the human labour which led ultimately, and during the same season, to the discovery and exploitation of Shanna, In ten minutes from Arfaja we came upon a great, dyke of sand lying in the form of a double horseshoe, right across the valley at a great southward bend of its course.
,243
244
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Upstream of the dyke the wind had scooped out a deep pit, in whose sandy bottom we found two wells known as Bir ibn Suwaihm after our Dimnani guide, SaHm ibn Suwailim, who had originally dug them out about 25 years ago, when these southern sands would seem to have enjoyed their last con¬ siderable cycle of good rains and good pastures. Subse¬ quently drought had driven the Arabs and their camels else¬ where, and Salim’s wells, left to their fate, had been swallowed up by the sands until their site was rediscovered and cleared in the 1929-30 season by ’Ali Jahman, truly a great desert pioneer. As at Arfaja the water was found to be similar in quality to that of Shanna, but its depth was nine fathoms — a fact that suggests that the diggers at Arfaja might have met with better success if they had sunk their shaft to, say, 10 fathoms. After a single season’s use the tribesmen moved away from the watering of Ibn Suwailim, and again the sands did their work upon the site.
The valley now ran up in a southerly direction through a maze of dunes rising from the desert floor to heights of 200 or 300 feet and scattered about and across the trough in little groups of two and three. Here and there a small patch of the exposed bedrock attracted our attention, while after labouring along, up hill and down dale, in a most tiring manner for about three miles we found ourselves on the 300 feet summit of a steep sand-slope with the pit of Mamura immediately below us. ’Ali had done his best to persuade me to march direct from Bir ibn Suwaihm to Zuwaira in order to avoid this difficult patch of country, but I had explained to him that it was absolutely necessary for me to see a locality with my own eyes if I wished to place it on the map. So hither we had come.
A hare — one of a dozen we encountered during this day’s march through comparatively good pastures — ^went away as we descended into the bottom, where we found several lizards for my collection. A party of Murra had occupied this locality during the season of 1929-30 — ^the ^day of Sibila’ as it is called in Arabian chronology after the great battle near Zilfi which gave Ibn Sa’ud the final victory over the rebel Ikhwan — and ’Ali, prospecting as always for water, had
found it at a depth of only thrre f ,tlr j . - 1 >h<o-na-lke
water but far from cop:oii<. ' the ’wTi b el ' ^ en abaiui^ ®re I and it needed 'All liimseif to atr w- pr.dtirn ain'^1 the -a!id^ wMcIi had conipietely oblltereteil -fd tr.'ee of it. Xear by lay a considerable patch of exT a;co>eLt- n whose surface, whipped into little rigid wavelet o suLwv.-tcel the bed of an ancient lake or iagooii.
Beyond it westward the Talley-" )ed„ ^virvinv round 'jctweeii lofty ridges of sand, appeared in ininieroir- pat'dies ex¬ posed bed-rock until, crosAng a how traii^ver^e -and-rhlge, we descended into the depression—stiil oltvitcisly jurt of tl:e same valley — of Ziiwaira. Close under the saiid-slupe on our right we came upon the single well of the locality, ..i shaft of five fathoms, which *Ali had sunk in the year ; ' befiyiv
Sibila and which, though covered over, had evitlently been used by visitors only a few weeks before our visit. The sarnly soil round the well still -laowed sigi> nrl>tTire, arid n.y companions counted the tracks i'O* iiftecn caiaeb belonging doubtless to some raiding purty, Heiv were ihe dead embeiu of their coffee-fire and there they had ])rayed, while two men were shown by their tracks to have gone off on foot to keep watch from the Mli-top while their fellows got on with the nervous but necessary task of watering their camels and filling their skins. The very sight of such tracks, old as they were, brought on an attack of nerves in my small party, w’-hich chafed impatiently as I carried out iiiy usual routine search for objects of scientific interest. The men who had passed that way might, for all we knew, be due to return by now. They might have encountered our baggage-party, they might yet encounter ourselves. The more pity that we had divided up our strength and the more reason to make haste to rejoin our companions. Yet our short halt was not in vain for Zayid picked up a flint implement to add to my collection. So we resumed the march with no great delay over a great, undulating rose-pink tract of doivns lying between lofty ridges more than a mile apart, thickly covered with the lovely Zahr plant. Our course lay nearly due north now for about three miles with the exposed bed of the valley appearing in patches on our right, until from an intervening
246 THE EMPTY QUARTER
sand-ridge we looked out upon a veritable lake of gypsum ffleaming white in the hazy sunshine. 4. j r
^ Here lay Turaiwa, the last of the desert weUs westward of Shanna, dug by =Ali during the 1929-30 season, a single shaft descending 13 fathoms to a stratum of briny water like that of Ziqirt and other wells of A1 Eihiran. The g3Tpsum lake was, perhaps, therefore the relic of an arm of the sea rather than part of the old river-bed, which doubtless splayed out into a delta as it approached the bay. Like Zuwaira, this well had recently been visited by Arabs, though my companions could not agree as to the approximate date of their passing. Its mouth had been carefully covered over in accordance with local custom, while the rock-marked niche of the praying-place and the presence of an A6aZ-dye pit on a patch of gypsum lying a few feet higher than the level of the well-mouth proclaimed that Turaiwa was a rendezvous of grazing Arabs accompanied by their tents and womenfolk as well as a place of call for casual travellers.
We had now completed our programme so far as it con¬ cerned the wells of the Shanna district, and our immediate obiective was to rejoin our baggage-train as soon as possible. The country through which we marched aU formed part of the tract vaguely known as Ramla Shanna or the Shanna sands — a country of typical SawaMb character with long parallel sand-ridges at intervals of a mile, more or less, and undulating scrub-dotted valleys or depressions between them. Here and there the underlying rock of the desert lay exposed amid the sands— white or blue-grey in colouring.
About 10 miles west of Shanna the general character of the desert changes. The sand-ridges no longer run in parallel strips but he scattered about the landscape in vide theatre- hke arcs, generally facing southwards and containing within their great embrace extensive tracts of sandy downs and valley bottoms of rock or hght sand. This tract is known as Al Qatarat. About five miles on from Tuwaira we came to a halt in one of these bottoms for a short midday rest and the usual refreshments while our camels grazed. The blue rock of the desert was here seen exposed and descending from north to south in two 20-feet ledges — a shelving beach
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT ’
247
as it were or more probably a rirer bank, but with no sign of gravel. Tbronglioiit the afternoon, during wbieh. we marched about nine miles in alL the scene remained un¬ changed, and our course lay over Mil and dale along an interrupted series of similar patches of rock, wMle from the summits we crossed to pass from bottom to bottom we looked out over vast panoramas of rolling sand-hills and ridges and isolated horseshoe dunes. A hare lay doggo under an Abal bush while 'AM, attended by an audience of four men and their mounts disposed in a semicircle round the quarry, blew it to bits with a rifle-bullet at a range of a few yards. We only got two of the many hares we saw and Ai Aqfa, the Saluqi bitch, had fed too comfortably at Shanna to be in training for the chase. A mild diversion was caused by a monitor ^ lizard which took refuge in a bush and scattered my companions as it darted out to seek other cover. With a gentle tap of my riding cane I seemed to break its back and it lay on the ground snapping helplessly at us, but at this period my slender supply of methylated spirits had been exhausted and all our efforts to preserve the specimen ended in failure. A single dragonfly wa-s perhaps the strangest of the day’s encounters, while three butterflies were also seen though not captured. They were the most elusive of all the desert creatures and I only caught one in all these days of desert wandering.
Late in the afternoon we espied two men on a sand-ridge afar off and rightly assumed that they were members of our baggage-part*y on the lookout for our arrival. A few minutes later we were in camp, having covered a distance of rather more than 20 miles during the day by our roundabout route. Shanna was about 15 miles away, as the crow flies, and some 150 feet below us. A day’s journey to southward lay the tract of Ramlat abu Dhulu’ — a lofty sand-range with lower ridges extending westward to the high dune massifs of Al Qa’amiyat. So ended the first day with little progress achieved, but conditions had been favourable enough, pro¬ mising better things for the days to come.
At 2 a.m. the baggage was started off to get the full
1 Waral or Buwaiii.
248 THE EMPTY QUARTER
benefit of the cool night-hours, while with a few com¬ panions I slept on till dawn. I dawdled over my morning packing. Suddenly SaMh, from an eminence commanding the plain behind us, shouted for my glasses and announced the presence of suspicious moving things far ofi. He failed to substantiate his report but in the desert all alarms must be taken seriously — true or false, — and we lost no time in loading up and moving ofi.
Many weeks earher ’Ali had confided to me that he knew of a locality full of shells in these southern parts, and I felt it was now time to remind him of his promise to lead me thither. He had indeed not forgotten. He was not alto¬ gether sure of the locaHty but imagined that it was not far off. He had turned aside once or twice during the previous day to examine the exposed rock patches we had passed in case they might prove to be the spot he sought, and here and there we had found small scattered lots of the httle spiral shells seen at Shanna. We had clearly therefore been following a river-bed or traversing a delta but now, within a mile of our camp, we came upon what looked from afar hke another of the numerous patches of exposed rock we had seen so often. There it is, said ’Ah. What ? I asked. The shells I spoke of, he answered ; ’tis many years since I passed this way and saw them. I was returning from hunting the Oryx in Qa’amiyat and I paid but httle attention to such things. But when you were so excited at sight of the shells in the Jiban I remembered. We rode on to the edge of the exposed patch and I noticed a scatter of httle white spirals. Further on we came upon a few bivalves^ and I dismounted. We remained there nearly an hour, collecting the freshwater shehs in hundreds and thousands, while our scouts kept watch on the neighbouring ridges for fear of foes. Nowhere did I see any trace of flint implements as at the northern locahty, but here was clearly a consider¬ able stretch of an old river-bed. A mile further on we found another similar patch with a more modest deposit of shehs. Thus for something over 20 miles we had found sporadic evidences of fresh water in ancient times. Nothing but a
^ Unio terminalis — see Appendix.
THE VERITABLE DESERT ’
249
river could fully account fee a pbenoirieiioii and I bad little hesitation in assimiing as a working tl;eory that we had in fact been exploring the lower reaches of Wadi Dawasir, the great river of ancient times that issued from the 'Asir and Yaman highlands to pass by Dam and Sulaiyii into the great desert. At least we can say that the theory is not in- consistent wdth the knowni facts. What do yon eaU this place ? I asked 'AM. It has no name, he replied. Then let us name it Abu Muhairat, I suggested, ' the father of shells.' Forget it not that you may, perchance, tell those tvho come after me, for the shells are the shells of a river-^-not sea- shells as we saw^ in the Jiba-n— and the river is Wadi Dawasir. He speaks sooth, said one of the party, yet we kii.eiv it not till this day for we Badu have no kiiowdedge. Xow ’AM had long coveted the cloak of Sa'dan, who had brought two with him in the hope of selling one to his owm profit, and I knew' they had been haggling over the price of it, for 'AM had declared that 20 dollars wms more than he could pay. I will give you the 20 dollars, I said to Sa'dan, only say nothing of it to anv soul. So I rode wdth Sa-'dan as we left the scene of the great discovery and 'AM di‘ew up to us to know^ whether I was pleased with Ms guiding. I drew the cloak from Sa’dan's saddle and threw it over to Mm. It is yours, I said, but find me more flints or shells if you know’ of any. TMs is the Mmit of my knowdedge, he replied, but say nothing of the cloak to our brethren lest they envy me. I will put it privily away this night w'hen w^e reach camp.
So w^e passed on. A desert lark piped about us and sidled aw^ay to safety. A Spindasis butterfly appeared again, and w^e passed from the massed sand-theatres of A1 Qatarat into the gently undulating tract of Hadh Qa’amijat with the roseate dune-massifs of Qa'amiyat proper forming a great mountain wall across our southern horizon. The great peaks seemed to rise about 500 feet above the general desert level, and among them, according to 'Ah, lay the true haunts of the Oryx, a shy animal that travels far and fast over steppe and desert in search of food but retires ever to the almost in¬ accessible sand-mountains for safety against surprise or pursuit. We crossed the recent tracks of a party of eight or
250 THE EMPTY QUAETER
ten men of tiie Sa’ar tribe going towards Shanna— perhaps the party whose scouts had frightened and been equally frightened by ns only four days before. And then we came upon young sprouts of the Andab grass, which told of recent though slight rain in these parts. Inevitably we paused until our camels had obliterated that thin splash of green from the desert landscape. The Andab is ever the first of the herbs to come to Mfe after rain, and the Abal runs it close. But Alqa, Birkan and Zahr need more coaxing. Of them all the Abal, with Hadh a good second, lives longest in the lengthening drought : and the Badawin from long experi¬ ence can date back falls of rain with approximate accu¬ racy by the state of these bushes in various parts of the desert.
We marched over a long succession of vast saucer-like depressions with high rims and easy slopes down to greater or smaller exposed patches of the calcareous or gypseous rock-bottom varying in colour from a deep greyish -blue — the colour of Dorset cheese — ^to white and grey. Some of these patches had from the distance all the appearance of vast lakes. In some the rock shelved back in a serious of distinct steps into and under the enveloping sand ; while in others the surface lay flat with a covering of grit and gravel dotted here and there with larger fragments of rock.
From this basin-tract we passed into Hibaka Qa’amiyat, a district of parallel sand-ridges running SW. and NE., close together with narrow valleys between them, and easy enough to negotiate. Half a day’s journey to the north lay Sanam al Hawar, an area of low dunes picturesquely named ‘the humps of the camel-colts,’ while the high ranges of Qa’amiyat still ran parallel to us on the left hand not far off. A charming landscape it was indeed, but how lifeless ! Afar off ahead of us an eagle was soaring about in stately solitude, seeking food. Hearer to us a raven watched our passage through the desert from the safe vantage of a dune-peak, while desert larks appeared from time to time. A long whitish snake with upreared head and flicking tongue charged through our advancing column ; and ’Ah was off his mount in a trice chasing it as it fled to a neighbouring
251
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT
busk. His eSorts to catch it by the tail were amusing but futile— perhaps happily !
The parallel ranges gradually merged into a btormy sea of dimes and ridges without syinnietry except that the horse¬ shoe hollows seemed regularly to face south-west. On one steepish slope 'AM, wh.o led the upc disiiiouiited to scrape aww the uppermost crest of sand for our easier passing. The dune summits stood about feet above the depressions^ while the general level of the sandy downs and ridges lay about half-way between the two. W e haiteu for the afternoon pra-yers and cofiee on the open downs j where we found the hor^ of a doe Oryx on the ground, where she had apparently died of hunger. The horns were 29 inches in length. Another raven appeared to investigate the cause of our halting, and shortly afterwards as w'e marched over the downs we sighted our baggage -aiiinia is ahead. Our camp for the night was by a ridge of the Hibaka. near which Farraj had located the earth of a Fennec fox and captured its inhabitants, a male and a female, alive. A small snake had also been taken during the march by the transport fo'lk, and that night the bright glare of my pressure-lamp attracted a large company of moths ^ and other insects, including the first grasshopper seen by me in the Rub' ai Khali. It had struck me as altogether extraordinary that, while butterflies and even dragonflies had been comparatively plentiful from time to time, not a single grasshopper ^ had been seen^in country apparently so suitable for its activities. On coming into camp we had seen the tracks of a Stone Curlew {Karwmi) , but had not seen the bird itself. e had marched about 25 miles during the day but, with two days counted out, had only done about 46 of the 360 nules that had con¬ fronted us at starting from Shanna. The clmatic con- .ditions had, however, been satisfactory enough with tem¬ peratures ranging from a minimum of 46^ Fuhr, at night to about 85° in the shade by day. The sun was hot in the afternoons, of course, but it would be difficult to imagine more perfect nights with a full moon shining down upon us
1 An astomsMngly large proportion of the moths colected in the Bub‘, ai Khali appear to be new species — see Appendix.
252
THE EMPTY QUAETER
in the wilderness, while the morning marches were a sheer delight. Our spirits sank as the snn neared the meridian, and my companions whiled away the afternoon boredom with their barren, cheerless singing.
On the third day we marched 26 miles — a fair average day’s march for laden camels — over what remained of the Hibaka tract, a barish rolhng weald of sand, into the still barer downs of Hamra, practically without scrub of any kind, and ultimately into the scantily-covered tract of Abal Khadim with its gently swelhng bosom of ridges and wide valleys. Soon after starting we came upon an exposed patch of gypsum and grey -blue rock, where we found a rich pro¬ fusion of spiral shells, wherefore we named the spot Abu Sabban. ’Ali shot a hare, which in due course we stewed for breakfast at our next halt and ate with dates. The wind was now coming from the south-west, a hot quarter, and steadily gaining strength ; and we ploughed on rather drearily over a landscape that reminded me strongly of Jafura. The baggage-animals also had evidently been labouring, as we had only made about eight miles when we came upon the spot where the advance -party had performed their dawn prayers and refreshed themselves with coffee. Not long afterwards we actually sighted them in the distance but our rather long halt for breakfast gave them time to get ahead again, and we saw them no more though the sun went down on us and we quickened our speed in the rapidly deepening gloom. We were beginning to wonder indeed whether we might perhaps have missed their route as the blowing sand had rapidly obliterated their tracks ; but at length we saw a large bonfire far ahead of us and soon rejoined our com¬ panions in camp at about 7.30. It had been a tiring day for us all and there was a good deal of wild and angry talk in camp, as of men tired and hungry and dissatisfied. But it was nothing more than that. They would have been satis¬ fied enough if I could have agreed to night-marching all the time but that was clearly impossible. We had come to see the country and not merely to traverse it, while I had the support of those who still hoped to see and shoot the Oryx. On several occasions during the day we had come upon old
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT '
253
dung and tracks of the animal, while during the afternoon we passed a great spreading Aha! bush in which a pair had evidently rested during the lieat of the day — perhaps ye.ster- day or a day or two before. Smell the ciiing. said Ali. passing a few pellets up to me as I halted to view the spot : it is like musk, very pleasant to the nose. In another spot we saw tracks, about four days old. oi a fuli-grown pair and a voung one. Our spirits began to rise and we hoped lor something better on the morrow. So our plans held good, and the transport again started ofE at 3 a.m.
During the day we had collected some lizarrls. A pair of ravens had been seen, and a few larits and tiii\ waruie-c. charming little creatures that played hide-and-seek with^me amid the branches of an Absl bush and only left that shelter for another when I became too bold in my innocent uuest (for my gun was out of action for good . It was interesting to see how these little birds tly from !?usii to bmh alniO:?t invisibly in long graceful swoop* close along the ground— to avoid the keen eye of hawk and raven. A So : cuU.si-s butterdy and two di’agonflies were also seen, and in one spot we found the horns of a dead Eim gazelle. The wind veered round to the south and the heat increased. Then in the afternoon the wind dropped altogether, and the sun blazed on us without mercy. Said 'Ali ; The Rub‘ al Khali they talked of to you, this is it ! it is three years since any rain feU here, and you will see the Zahr no more until you come to Harmaliya five or six days hence. It was indeed a desolate scene with the scantiest of scrub and during the last two houre before sunset the sun struck us in the face from straight in front. It was like marching into a furnace.
We began the fourth day’s march under a sense of com¬ bined strain and expectation. During the night the abandon¬ ment of our enterprise had been seriously canvassed and my lack of sympathy with our strained camels provided Farraj with an opportunity to read me a lecture. If j’our beast is well, said he, then you are well ; but if she wilts, then you wilt. Very true, I said, but it is you folk that think not
I In fact we never came to this locality and I never ascertained its exact
position.
254 THE EMPTY QUARTER
twice of increasing the strain. We hare to cross this Empty Quarter, and I but ride straight on, neither thinking of re¬ treat nor t.>n'nlring of diversion. But look for instance at Zayid and Salih, who rode off just now on the trail of an Oryx. All day they may ride their beasts after their quarry and return at'nightfall unsuccessful, disheartened and tired. Then they will chide me for my obstinacy and want to return to water. That is always your way.
Soon after starting on the day’s march and just before passing from the Abal Khadhim tract into the very similar bare roUing country of Hadhat al Qata — indeed the only difference was the scanty appearance of Hadli amidst the Abal and Alqa—we had come upon the tracks of four Oryx, and our men lusted to he off after them. Zayid drew up to me with a cringing request for permission to follow up the tracks, and I was glad enough to think that I might have some hours free of his company. To Salih I replied that he could please himself, and off the pair went at a steady walk which soon took them out of sight on our flank. ’Ali had unsuccessfully pleaded for similar hherty. Look you, he had said untruthfully, we have come to the end of the country I know. Beyond this there is no guidance in me, hut Ihn Humaiyid knows it all and I can go and seek out an Oryx for you. I can do without the Oryx, I had replied, and I want your company. So he rode on sulkily far ahead, while Earraj danced attendance on me.
An hour later we passed the spot where the advance-party had prayed and made coffee. It was 9 a.m. and they must have left the spot barely an hour and a half before, yet over their fresh tracks lay the still more recent trail of a full-grown bull Oryx ! That was too much for us aU. Lovingly they read the message of the tracks aloud — ^how the great beast had sauntered along from the north cropping a bush here and there as he passed : how he had stood transflxed for a moment as he came upon the ploughed-up channel of our baggage camels : and how finally he had galloped away for dear life from the scent and signs of danger. ’Ah pleaded with tears in his eyes, and I yielded. Earraj strained at the leash, and I acquiesced with the reproach that I
A DUNE-RANGE IN KHILLAT HAWAYA. (See page 256)
To face page 255.
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT
would soon be left entirely alone. 05 they went, and ■wo went on.
Very soon Farraj came be^ck. nrotestin'j that he could not bear to leave me so ill-attended. Lo>‘»k you, he .-aid. we would never have left our dear families and come out on this business but for two reasons ; hope of profit and fear of punishment. I have no desire but to serve you, but it is Zayid and ’Ali that are to blame for all our troubles. You will surely not let their behaviour involve the rest of us in loss. Tell me what j^ou w'ant and I -will do it. He ■■.va.s the lack-'wit of oxir party — ever resisting but repenting, repenting but resisting — but the frankest of them all in n.aTve .self- seeking. I had appealed to his cupidity the previous evening with some small pecuniar}’ compensation for the trouble involved in capturing the two foxes — and for a bitten huger of which he had made the most, quite shamelessly.
Up hill and down dale we marched on. Here and there a small patch of exposed bmish rock in the botti>m oi a valley claimed O'Ur attention. The vegetation became scantier as we went, and all that there was -was dead. Soon the rolling dowuis became absolutely bare, and the hot sun Idazed down on them until the sand glared again into our faces merci- lesslv- Now and again the higher sands produced a mirage like sheets of glass. Not a bird did we see all that day, though once we heard the piping of an invisible lark. A dragonfly astonished me in such surroundings and thrice we saw a butterfly — flitting shadows that caught my eye for an instant and disappeared into the enveloping sheen of sand- reflected light. Two gargoylish lizards crouched in the sandy fire as we passed and w’ere duly consigned to my ever-ready bottle.
We passed from Hadhat al Qata into Khillat al Hawaya about mid-day — ^a vast down-tract of rounded ribs of soft sand lying SW. and NE. as usual, with occasional lofty dunes to vary the monotony. It was easy going, hut the heat was intense without relief. At 2 p.m. we halted by an exposed patch of the underlying bedrock for a short rest. I spread my mantle over the branches of a moribund Abal bush and scraped away the hea'ted upper layer of sand to make myself a couch in the shade. I slept until I was summoned to coffee.
256 THE EMPTY QUARTER
and we disposed of the afternoon prayer before resuming the march.
Far away now to our southward lay the long hne of the Hibaka, whose northerly extremity we had traversed the previous day, with the Qa’amiyat uplands beyond it ; while to our north the Hawaya ridges extended a day and a half to the Bani Jallab tract, westward of which lies A1 Jalada^ (apparently a gravel plain), with the northern Hibaka (or Hibaka Faraja) on its northern side. The downs gradually changed in character to form a series of more or less parallel ridges (always lying SW. and NE.), which we crossed in wearisome succession at intervals of a quarter mile or more. Very hot it became as the afternoon wore on and our spirits drooped. Yet every now and then a cool zephyr breathed upon us from the east, fragrant reminder of the oncoming night. At the hottest of the day the shade temperature had touched 93°, but at 10 p.m. it was only 65°, and the minimum of the night in camp was 50°. We camped at 5 p.m. near the western edge of Khillat Hawaya and our hunters dribbled in about sunset from their futile hunting. The camels had felt the day’s strain, marching through a pastuxeless wilderness, but there was less talk of giving up. We were now a hundred miles away from Shanna and at least as far from any water, while Zayid and ’Ah had evi¬ dently devised a plan for the morrow to their own hking. The baggage-train was started ofi before 2 a.m., and after the chatter and clatter of their starting we slept in peace in the cool desert while the waning moon went its way over us through an almost starless sky.
I awoke before dawn as usual, and over our morning cofiee and dates after the prayer it was announced that the camels of Zayid and ’Ah were missing ! Having come in rather late the previous evening, they had been left to graze in the moonhght and had strayed away. An hour was wasted in looking for them — a precious hour of the day’s coolth — and then it was proposed that the rest of us should start leaving Muhaimid with one camel, carrying water and provisions, in attendance on Zayid and ’Ah, who would track ^More probably, perhaps, Sahma or Ra'la. See p. 316.
^ THE VERITABLE DESERT 257
down tjieir lost beasts and follow in our trail. They as
well have made a clean breast of tiieir plarH. wliicli were too obvious to call for coiiimeiit. They wTjuld liave tcfs-dav for anotlier long pursuit of tlie elusive IJrvx ami — most sigiiifi- cant of all: — our future plans could be recoil >i''k'‘re!rl if they failed again.. By nightfall we would still lie near eneaigh to w^ater to go back and, viewed in the b'ght of surh r, pact, the developments of the day fall into a dearer, if omiiimis. per¬ spective. Meanwhile there was nothing to ]jit to
make the best of a bad situation and hope for the be^st. But I did privately register the hope that Zayid airi ‘Aii rniudit not meet with succes,s in their selfish quest. we started off on our fifth days inareli with Farraj riding the aniirinl that carried my bo,xes, Ibii Hiiniaiyid as guide and Saliii in attendance. All w'ent merrily enraigh and we joked and laughed, nominating Farraj to the Aiiiirate. left vacant l)y the desertion of Zayid, and Saiih iis liis dejeity. And I offered to wager a large sum that the hunters would return disappointed. MeamvMle we could he hai)]3y without their company. And we were happy enough as wx^ struck out over the bare, easy, rolling dowms, streaked at wide intervals with ridges of sand so low- as to be scarcely perceptible. Farraj characteristically made the most of his imcomfortabie perch on my boxes as evidence of his will to service : and I chaffed Mm, pointing out how he dominated us all as from a throne raised aloft. How^ well it w^ould be, I said, if we could ahvays march thus without Zayid and b41i ! You and Salih could take it in turns each day to be our leader and ride upon the throne, as rode the Arab virgins in the good old days in a litter leading their tribal warriors into battle. I am content, Salih interposed hastily, to leave that honour to Farraj, and I can serve you better catcMng lizards for you or turning aside with you to collect rocks and shells — and perhaps flints — -from the bare valley-bottoms on the way. And at interva.ls, when the conversation flagged, they wxuld strike up their barren singing to break the silence of the desert.
After an hour we passed into Qasba Hawraya, and they pointed out to me the dried-up stubble of the Qasab grass
258 THE EMPTY QUARTER
whicli differentiates it from what had gone before. After good rains, said Ibn Humaiyid, this is good grazing country and the Arabs come hither with their milch-camels to seek the Oryx. And they remain out until the camels need water, themselves living only on milk and the meat of the chase. But it is the great ones only who do that — ^people like Ibn Mfi and Ibn Jahman and Ibn SuwaiMm. It is a hard life. But there has been no rain in these parts for seven or eight years now, and none come hither these days. Gradually the country had become more undulating with rounded dunes and low ridges. But it was amazingly bare.
The light, cool breeze of the early morning dropped, but for an hour or two the conditions remained pleasant enough though the air was deathly still. The silence — once broken by the sweet piping of an invisible lark — ^was astonishing. And the dunes and ridges merged into a sea of billows with¬ out order, tossed and tumbled by the conflict of desert winds. A little way off to the southward a group of lofty pink dunes towered above it all, and we went by the tracks and dung of a solitary Oryx, which had passed across this y^ilderness two days earlier questing for pastures further north.
Suddenly there appeared before us the trough of a great valley-bottom cleaving the rolling downs from south-west to north-east. In its bed we saw a long series of exposed patches of the underlying rock, which we turned out of our way to visit in search of shells. We found none and climbed up the long and weary slope beyond to enter, on its crest, the district of Hadhat al Hawaya, a tract of deeper valleys and higher ridges which extend in uniformly parallel lines for some 40 or 50 miles westward to the Shuwaikila country* Here the Hadh bush reappeared after a long absence, dead like everything else though occasional tufts of green raised hopes that were doomed to disappointment. As the day drew on to noontide and the sun blazed down on us without mercy it was easy to believe that never in 20 years or more had rain fallen in this district. The dry HodTi shrubs had gathered mounds of sand about their half-buried heads and even the hardy Abal, the longest-lived of all the desert plants, had not survived the strain.
Its long, blackened roots lay >].recri jli-.nt tLe sandr floor round the perished relics c4 on('-e ltcit tinrkets, whose gnarled and writliing branches ijioclnincd thr; .igonies to liich at last after a gaiiont v 1 ^ i cumbcd
exhausted. Drought and flimine stalked the land with drawn swords of flaming fire, breathing lastly njnn us w!io ventiired thus into their domain. It was impressive but it was depressing, and I was oppressed, maybe, by a nremoiii" tion of failure. Grimly and in silence we marched on over an endless succession of valleys and ridges, hoping that eacli crest would gladden our eyes with a vision of pastures ahead, but hoping in vain. Hevertheless it was a pleasant landscape - these rolling dowris and deep valleys of Ha way a, where Death reigned supreme, and a single raven waged perpetual war against the little creatures that dared to live against such odds, larks and lizards and tiny warblers.
It occurred to me, as we passed tinxeiiuli the various bcdts of this great s^iiid -desert, that the sharply denned limits of Hu/Jh and Qcisba, Hdiiira ^ tinci A/ihki aiirl the like must in some way reflect the chemicai character of the sands them¬ selves or of the soils and waters underlying them. Each plant has a more or less definite life -period dependent on the frequency of rains, the hardiest coming to life out of death or dormancy upon the slightest encouragement and lasting through the years under the greatest provocation, while the tenderer herbs shrink from rebirth until tempted by copious rainfall and wilt as soon as the drought resumes its sway. But a systematic study of the plants themselves and of the sand and bedrock of their habitat would certainly yield interesting and important results, especially if corre¬ lated with the study of similar or comparable plant-zones in the Sahara and other great desert tracts of the world. The untutored eye could detect no outward and visible ex¬ planation of the zone phenomenon. It merely noted the beginnings and the ends of the Hadh belts, outside which all was KMUu dotted with Abal or naked Humra^ with minor zones of Qmba and Birkan,
^ Hamra^ Hamrur (pL Samarir}^ apparently used only of sand-tracts absolutely destitute of anv kind of vegetation.
260
THE EMPTY QUAETER
In a space of about four hours we had crossed as many valleys, well-marked channels between broad gently sloping ridges. In each case the wind had scoured out the bed to expose patches of the calcareous rock below, of which we collected samples while searching in vain for shells and fossils. Here and there in the sandy hollows we found queer,
thin tubes^ of coagulatedsand, whichmycompanionsregarded
as evidence of subsoil water in the neighbourhood and which they often find near the known weUs. These proved to be fulgurites or lightning-sticks, formed by the fusing of damp sand by lightning and the adhesion of sand to the fused mass in such a manner as to form a thin tube. Our specimens are puny little things compared with many in the British Museum, but the frequency of their occurrence in the rain¬ less, or almost rainless, desert is remarkable enough.
Some of these ridges flattened out at the top into broad plateaus of a gentle switchback character with shallow xm- dulations and occasional moraines of low rounded dunes in large groups. Ear and wide it was an unimaginably bare wilderness, and our nerves seemed to be at high tension as we faced the prospect of hour after hour of the same desola¬ tion, labouring on in the growing sultriness of noon along the furrow ploughed ahead of us by the passage of our baggage- train. Not once had we drawn rein since starting and the time drew nigh for a short halt for a breather, with coffee to cheer the heart of man. We had crossed the third valley and slowly climbed the long slope beyond it to the ridge crest, whence we looked forth on yet another valley with rolling downs beyond. Our general course had been WNW., but now almost due north of us, as we scanned the horizon, we saw a tent silhouetted against the slope of the further ridge. It was evidently one of our own tents, pitched for the first time since leaving Shanna, for we had discarded aU un¬ necessary trouble and comfort to save time. The tent fore¬ boded ill ; the sudden change of direction was ominous. It was scarcely past midday and I railed in natural wrath against the transport folk for their wretched marching. The hght-headed EarraJ took up the challenge with a hysterical
^ See Appendix.
(b) CAMP AT NAIFA, WITH THE HIGH RIDGE OF THE ‘SINGING SANDS’ . BEHIND IT.
(See Da.ee 2 04' I
outburst. tbey break critical. W noontide su two. Yet h boded more thing but c: would read deavour to stances tbe frantically, when that : lucre alone may be brc can be mad been in va Shanna it 1 rebellion, a though not though vai while it ws prospect oJ now it was that made yield. We behind us s they woulc disheartens since Shan with their ^ the multit neither wa So we m half an hoi animals hi One of ths cover of tl similarly i from the
261
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT ’
outburst. We toil for you in vain ; we strain the camels till they break — all in vain. You are ever displeased and critical. Would you have them march on in the fire of this noontide sun 1 They are perchance resting for an hour or two. Yet he knew, as I felt instinctively, that the tent fore¬ boded more than ill— perhaps disaster. Could one be any¬ thing but critical and on one’s guard wdth companions who would readily have sacrificed the whole object of our en¬ deavour to their own miserable comfort \ In such circum¬ stances the Arab does not show up to advantage. He clings franticafiy, desperately, to life, however miserable, and, when that is at risk, loses heart and head. Greed of filthy lucre alone makes him pause from flight, and gradually he may be brought round to a more reasonable attitude if he can be made to feel that all the troubles of the past may have been in vain if he shrinks from those of the future. At Shanna it had been fear of human foes that had produced rebellion, and I had submitted with a good enough grace though not without a struggle. On the way I had frankh , though vainly, tried to bribe ’Ah Jahman to turn south while it was still not too late, but he had shrunk from the prospect of incurring the hostihty of his companions. Aim now it was the waterless desert, the fear of thirst and death, that made women of these men. I could not, would not yield. We had come 140 miles. A third of the journey was behind us and a steady eflort would carry us through if only they would play the man. They were, of course, weak and disheartened with hunger for we had had nothing but dates since Shanna. I was famished myself and could sympathise with their condition. I felt hke Moses in the wilderness when the multitude clamoured against him, but I could produce neither water nor manna.
So we marched on wranghng towards the distant tent, in half an hour we reached camp to hear that five or six baggage- animals had collapsed from thirst, hunger and exhaustion. One of them was actually sheltering against the sun under cover of the tent at the time, while two or three others were similarly indulged when in due course they were brought m from the desert with the loads of which they had been
262
THE EMPTY QUARTER
relieved for a time to let them recover from the strain. The position was just about as serious as it could be and some reconsideration of our plans would obviously be necessary. We were at a crisis of our fortunes, but the battle had yet to be joined that would end at midnight in my own discom fiture.
My tent had been pitched near the other when we arrived but, after depositing my goods and chattels in it, I hastened to join my companions, whom I found in surly mood and openly mutinous, attributing the debacle of the day to my insane insistence both on embarking upon such an enterprise and on marching through the heat of the day. I tried to be concihatory in the circumstances and pointed out gently that night-marching would have defeated the whole object of our journey. I went on to declare that at Shanna I had strongly urged the division of our forces and the despatch of all our heavy baggage by the comparatively easy route by the wells to Riyadh or Hufuf, so that we might attempt the waterless crossing with a hght and well-equipped party. It was there¬ fore they who had brought about the present disastrous state of affairs by neglecting my advice. I had moreover warned them at Shanna that the journey would take at least 15 days while they had clung foolishly to Ibn Suwaihm’s optimistic estimate of 11 or 12, and thus had only them¬ selves to thank for the disappointment of their hopes. We had in fact done exactly one-third of the distance in one- third of the time allowed for by me, and there was no reason to talk of abandoning the enterprise. I certainly would not do that. I would go on alone if necessary and they could go back and tell their master that they had abandoned their guest in the desert. And now, I continued, our course is clear enough. We can send back the baggage-animals to Haifa, whence they may either return to the Hasa or rejoin us at Wadi Dawasir by way of Bir Eadhil and the Aflaj. The rest of us could continue the march direct to Sulaiyil, where we should await the arrival of the baggage. The only course was to be firm and unyielding with as much concilia- toriness as possible, but my frankness merely fanned the flames of mutiny as they sat silent and brooding round the
embers < round.
^Abdul of Dhrun take muc a snarl ai of consid company to discuss the futux temper, £ let such £ punity. With tha leave the Sa’dan ii If you wii for Ms in wish it; discuss m no more sirable tc that ’Abe with the contempl High wo] stances, i wretches clamour i talking, i over to I march fre such worl I should ; the great mary pot emissaries with me finished n
263
‘ THE IRRITABLE DESERT =
embers of the coffee fire. The coffee cups were passing round.
^ Abdul Rahman j the coffee-maiij scion of the dour clans of Dhruma and usuaEy too absorbed in Ms coffee-making to take much part in the general coriTersatioii, looked up with a snarl and Jerked out some offensive remark about mv lack of consideration for others. I rounded on the assembled
stances, and I was full of sympathy for the unfortunate
1 1 H|l Mill || 1 * ilMlri^fcl>il 1 1 llfc
clamour for an ignominious retreat. So I left them to their talking, and fragments of their wild conversation floated over to my ears as I settled down to plot out our whole march from Shanna to tMs point. I had had no time to do such work during the past five days and it was imperative that I should know rougMy without delay our actual position in the great waterless desert. Sa^dan brought me my custo¬ mary pot of tea and the gossip of the enemy camp, whence emissaries came from time to time to resume negotiations with me about our future movements. By sunset I had finished my task and, as soon as it was dark enough, I made
264
THE EMPTY QUARTER
and worked out the necessary astronomical observations to check the accuracy of my compass traverse. Our progress had been certainly a little disappointing though I had dis¬ counted such a contingency in advance. Two-thirds of the desert journey lay before us — a matter of ten days, though these might be reduced to eight with a reasonable amount of night marching. Could the best of our camels do it ? That was the great question, while there could be no doubt, what¬ ever, that the baggage-animals must make with all possible speed for the nearest water. There was little to choose in the matter of distance between Haifa and Shanna, but wild horses would not have dragged my companions back to the latter. They feared it as the plague, and there was no reason why their preference should not be conceded. For the camels (and to a lesser extent for the personnel) it was literally a question of life and death. And four of the camels lay there before us in a state of complete collapse. Nothing but water would revive them for further marching, and there was no water to spare if all claims had to be considered.
Meanwhile the stream of visitors to my tent had enabled me to devise a scheme which was at least feasible and accept¬ able though not acclaimed with the enthusiasm demanded by our parlous situation. The absentees, Zayid and ’Ali, were to be encouraged to accompany the baggage back to Haifa, while I insisted that Ibn SuwaiHm should go with my party as guide for he alone knew the general direction and conditions of the march before us well enough to act in such a capacity, though even he had never traversed the desert on any line southward of Faraja and Maqainama. Sa’dan would, of course, go with me, for he both desired to do so and was indispensable for my work, and that made a nucleus of three, to which Salih adhered unconditionally, thus making four. Farraj hedged, torn between fear and greed— and never have I met an Arab so vacillating and uncertain in temper— but eventually decided to throw in his lot with me. Humaid would not be parted from Salih and that made six, while Suwid, who had publicly denounced the scheme as sheer madness, came to my tent alone and very mysteriously to indicate by wordless signs that he too would be included
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT ’ 265
in my party, -wliicii was duly completed by the inclusion of Abu Ja'sha,^ tlie indispeiisabie liaiidy man. On my part I
agreed readil\ er.ougn to a reasonable amount of night¬ marching— a concession that I could scarcely refuse iii°the circumstances seeing that we should in any case have scarcely enough water to see us through to the end. for we should have to spare some for the weariest of the camels and leave the baggage-party with sufficient to brinf them to Naifa. °
As the hours passed by with no sign of Zayid and ’AM we agreed that the desert party should make a start with the first appearance of the moon, due sometime after midnight, as there was clearly no time to be lost. The interval was spent in making the necessary dispositions to give effect to our plans. The available food suppMes were divided up and the caniels destined for our party selected. In due course everjdhing was ready and I had just completed my star observations when we heard afar off the grunts and chatter that portended the unwelcome return of Zayid and his companions.
As I had anticipated with dread, ail our carefully worked out plans collapsed with Zavdd’s arrival in camp. He was quite naturally furious that any plans should have been concerted in his absence, and neither he nor ’Ah was inchned to be communicative on the subject of the day’s hunting, which had at any rate provided no venison. They left it to be understood that they had toiled ail day in search of their l^t camels and they had a colourable grievance in our de¬ cision to relegate them unconsulted to the returning baggage- party. From the first moment Zayid declared himself against our scheme. After the inevitable cup of coffee which enabled him rapidly to take stock of the situation, as I could gather from the privacy of my own tent by the voluble pro¬ tests made in the other, he came over to discuss matters with
me. He was charming as could be and honey-tongued in his
protestations of devoted service. Look you, he said, I cannot desert you thus ; I will come with you myself, for my face would be blackened for ever if I left you now to your fate. The way is far and there is not sufficient water and the camels
266
THE EMPTY QUARTER
are dead. We will, however, do what you wish. We will perish with you. We will take the best camels and all the water that can be spared and what matter ? We will put our trust in God. If God so wills, we will reach Sulaiyil alive, but blame not us if we aU. die of thirst in the desert. You saw to-day how many of the animals broke down. They cannot march without pastures to fill their bellies. There are but two or three of them that are fit for the journey. Why, even my mount and ’All’s are more dead than alive. But whatever you wish we will do. I have done my duty in warning you of the danger we shall be running, but the ordering is yours.
The advent of Zayid had clearly changed the situation. He could make or mar our enterprise, and I could not trust him to make arrangements that would give us a sporting chance of success. I felt that I had lost my throw with Fate, and I turned to the only alternative — a faint hope of ultimate success to weigh in the balance against the certain failure of the plans we had made so hopefuUy. Look you, Zayid, I said, your coming has spoiled my plans and you have turned my companions against me. Either let me go with my men and the camels we have chosen or give me your word of honour here and now. If I agree to go back to Haifa now with ah our party intact will you give me your word of honour that, when we have rested and refreshed our camels, you will ride with me again across the Empty Quarter, even to Sulai3dl, as you gave me your word to do at Shanna ? That was part of your charge from Ibn Jiluwi, and I warn you that Ibn Sa’ud himself will be wroth with you and the rest of them if you fail in this matter. I cannot go back except across the Empty Quarter. I give you my word of honour to that, oh Shaikh Abdullah, he replied blandly, and the matter is of God’s wifi. For a moment I wrestled with myself and saw that there was no reasonable alternative to putting my trust in any sense of decency that remained in Mm, The men were all so obsessed with fear of Zayid that they could do nothing on their own initiative. Salih and Farraj, who had solemnly given me their hands in token of loyalty to the afternoon’s bargain, cut but sorry figures in
‘ THE VERITABLE DESERT ’ 267
their sudden and complete coUapse. And in the few moments that remained before a final decision was reached I fistened to a loud altercation proceeding in the rival camp. He cannot go, I heard, without a guide ; so let Ibn Suwailim tell him straight out that he will not accompany him. Rise Sahm and teU him that we maj get back to the watering without delay. And a moment later Ibn Suwailim was led into my tent by Suwid, repeated his lesson like a child and went his way.
Thus it was finally agreed that we should all return together to Naifa and that the baggage-train should start off as soon as the moon had risen. Of the whole nineteen of us, I alone was unhappy that evening, while the rest set about their remaining tasks with a good will worthier of a better cause than ignominious retreat. The Empty Quarter had routed us. ^e had come about 140 miles — a five days’ journey into its inhospitable, drought-stricken wastes, and now we were to flee from its terrors. We were at least 140 rniles from the nearest water and by the time we reached Kaifa our camels would have done some 280 miles of the waterless desert unavailingly. They would have gone nine or ten days without water, and most of that time through pastureless lands. But our decision to turn back enabled us to devote four or five skins of our precious water to the reMef of the seven or eight animals most seriously affected by the day’s agony. In fact the decision to turn back was cele¬ brated in our camp by what sounded to me in the darkness as a veritable orgy of water-wasting. The camels sucked the precious liquid from the leather tubs into their aching belUes, while some few, which had not reached the end of their tether, were subjected to the process of ‘ snuffing.’ ^ Tto is an economical method of refreshing camels by ad¬ ministering a kettleful of water through the nostrils to cool the head and brain. The silly beasts struggle violently under such treatment, which is presumably painful enough at the time, but there would seem to be no doubt about its efficacy for the purpose in view, and I was to observe the process frequently enough during the fortnight that now remained of our wanderings in the Empty Quarter.
268
THE EMPTY QUARTER
The men, too, were duly catered for. A large cauldron of rice was set to boil on the camp-fire and at midnight I was summoned to partake of the feast. I was however too weary of spirit and body to worry about food and remained in bed, while my fellows apparently enjoyed their first square meal since our departure from Shanna. I was still on my regime of tea at suitable intervals — generally thrice but sometimes only twice a day — and I had tasted no water since leaving Hufuf 51 days before, though a small supply of camePs milk, growing less day by day as the pastureless deserts shrank the udders of our milch-animals, served to vary my diet and lend me strength. All through I had certainly suffered less from thirst than my companions, who drank copiously whenever they had water in plenty to drink and thus, like foolish virgins, tended more and more to need liquid refreshment as the available supply grew daily less. These experiences convinced me that moderation in drinking is the best antidote to thirst in desert conditions, and it may be that tea has virtue quite out of proportion to the amount consumed. My companions seldom indulged in it and then spoiled it with sugar and milk.
It was in utter weariness that I lay down to sleep that night, and sleep came not as I revolved the disastrous ex¬ periences of the day and wondered what of good or evil the days to come had in store for me. Soon after the midnight rice-feast the baggage-train moved off into the darkness with a half-moon to light the way. The great retreat had begun, and peace descended upon the desert which had vanquished us. The struggle had been great and grim, but the suspense was over. And at last sleep blotted out the nightmare of the day, the worst day of the whole journey from beginning to end and perhaps the most terrible of all my experience. Yet good cometh out of evil, and so indeed it was to prove in the end. It is but rarely that one can look back on failure with such satisfaction.
CHAPTER II
RETREAT
Nor Muslims’ laud nor land of infidels — the Empty Quarter !
— ’AbbiTL SxlHMAK.
The call to prayer roused us before daTO to the day's work. The night had been chilly as we lay in the open, having sent the tents ahead, and we warmed ourselves round the fire sipping coffee. Our supply of dates was ail but exhausted and little remained of them but the two skins which had been provided for my personal use by Ibn Jiliiwi and which I had rigorously refused tO' broach, placing them under the special charge of Sa- dan to be used only in some extremitv. The public store had been scandalously squandered without thought for the morrow , and even the camels had been surrep¬ titiously fed on dates to make up for poor pastures. We had indeed been using up our stores at the rate of double rations each day and now we had to depend on rice alone, which involved a daily expenditure of water on which we had not reckoned. Ibn Suwailim optimistically estimated that we might reach ISjaifa in three days, while I protested that we should ration ourselves on the assumption of a five days’ march. But the optimists triumphed, and the dawn of the fourth day saw the last of our water consumed. A vigorous forced march brought us to Naifa at midnight that day, but many of them had leisure to repent their lack of foresight during the blazing march of that aftemwn.
Soon after 6 a.m. we started off eastward (or slightly north of east) along the trough of the fourth Hawaya valley, a great channel about 500 or 600 yards in width and running between parallel ridges which became dune-massifs as we advanced and finally culminated in a great moraine of rounded hil¬ locks at the eastern extremity of the depression. Hitherto
m ,
270
THE EMPTY QUARTER
we Kad merely crossed these yalleys from side to side and saw them extending into the distance on either hand. It was interesting therefore to follow one of them down its course and our generally eastward march gave us many oppor¬ tunities of repeating the experience during the next few days, as the hne of least resistance coincided roughly with our desired direction. Such vaUeys vary a good deal in length, perhaps from three to eight miles, and our plan was generally to march up their centre and cross the moraine tracts in which they ended to the next, and so forth. Here and there we passed by patches of the underlying desert surface swept bare by the wind and covered with light grit.
Every now and then the sands told the tale of some animal of the baggage-train fallen by the way or couched to have its load readjusted. And in one spot we gleaned a harvest of onions which had fallen unobserved. We divided them among us and ate them with relish for we were famished. I had spurned the profiered feast of the previous evening and had had nothing but dates for six days, with a strictly limited ration of sweet biscuits, which had been my only luxury during the whole journey (to be eaten with my tea). I was weak with hunger and weary in spirit. To some extent perhaps my long abstention from water had something to do with the state of feebleness, which only now, in these early moments of desponding, I recognised with some feeling of alarm. Doubt¬ less also the long days of strenuous exertion on a meatless diet accounted for part of my weakness, and it seemed un¬ likely enough that any meat would be forthcoming, for even the hares seemed to have abandoned the droughty waste and we had seen none for several days. There was nothing to do but struggle on, and I rode aloof from my companions, silently, rejecting the solace of their society and chatter to mark the disappointment that lay as a gulf between us. Everything, I felt, depended on leaving them to ponder the probable consequences of a final failure with the knowledge that my ultimate approbation and bounty could only be secured by acquiescence in my objective. That had now become an obsession — -the crossing of the waterless waste-— as the exploration of the Great South Desert in general had
271
BETREAT
been for the past fourteen years. I had developed a curiously impersonal attitude towards myself and mv surroundings.
u “ conflict with each other in a setting
altogether umque. Why quarrel ^ith companions in adver¬ sity who m the endeavour to save themselves alive were but holing me back from senseless disaster ? Why not agree TOth them to shirk the struggle with hostile Fate and return home m peace and goodwill ? But why live ? replied mv soul ; we had done much already of what'l had veamed to do all these years, but it was not enough. This vet remained to do-the TOgin wilderness never crossed by man, perhaps uncrossable. To shrink from that now on the very’ threshold was unt^able. Everything must be risked on that great
V ^ victories are won, and
wmt of mneteen lives in comparison witii the thousands
sacnficed by every general that history has honoured i My brain saw clearly enough the logic of my companions in their perversity, while my soul reeked of nothing but the goal. Twice had my companions triumphed over me, at Shanna and aimd the sands of Hawaya. The third round would settle thmp once and for aU, and my will must bend them to submission. I had to reckon with Zayid alone, the evil genius of our party, the devil incarnate as he seemed to me those days, who dominated the rest in a manner altogether astomshing. He was not loved but feared.
Thus along the valleys and up over the tumbled moraines we marched hour after hour. Our camels, now turned towards water and salvation, dragged along wearily but gamely. In the valleys we seemed to be ascending steadily, and at the end of our first day’s march the aneroid showed that we had risen nearly 200 feet. Our milch-camels had gone on overnight with the baggage and I had not had my usual ration of morning milk, while the thin stuff of the night before showed how the animals were suffering from the droi^ht.
A small pair of Oryx horns was found on the sands as we passed and a couple of butterflies (Spindasis) flitted by in the Bunhght, while at one spot we saw three ravens together. OtherwiBB there was no life in the desert and nothing to
272 THE EMPTY QUARTER
attract attention but the occasional patches of rock exposed by the wind. A light southerly breeze blew most of the morning obhterating the tracks of the advance-party, whose halting place for the dawn prayer we had observed earlier in our progress. ^ They had apparently taken four hours or more to cover a distance we had negotiated in less than two. It was clear that they were labouring under the loads. We went by a tr^t in which the ridges were ranged one behind another in sweeping semi-circular ribs, like the seats of a theatre, grouped about the end of the valley.
On resuming after our morning refreshments in a gently undulating upland with a fair amount of Abal, on which the camels browsed the while, we passed from the Hadh tract into the Qasba with its characteristic stubble of dry grass and lofty dunes dotted with Abal. It was a long weary pull up to its tumbled plateau of bare but shapely knoUs, to the right of which lay the trough of a valley whose numerous bare patches, spread over a length of two miles, ga.ve one the impression of a continuous river-bed. The south wind gathered strength and the marching conditions were pleasant enough. A short halt was called as we de¬ scended into the valley, skirting one of its bare patches, for my companions to have a drink of water, for the scarcity had made the whole available supply communal property to be shared out, like and Hke, with solemn formality. The thirsting camels craned round their long necks to nose the bowls of the precious liquid, but there was none for them.
We passed by an ancient raven’s nest in an Abal thicket. Sheets of sand swept over the desert’s face under the strength¬ ening wind, which had become a little tiresome, and smoke- hke streamers blew from every dune-top. We had by now lost aU trace of the route followed by the baggage-party though we knew that they could not be far ahead. Yet we saw no sign of them. The explanation was soon forthcoming. Afar off in the rear we saw a man running apparently in pur- ™t of us and, as he drew near, we recognised ’Ali Jahman. He tod seen us passing and the baggage-tram was away to our left and behind. So we halted to let it come up and I was weaay enough, both physically and spiritually, to be glad of
RETREAT 273
so early a break in the day’s march. The ^ind dropped a httle during the afternoon and had veered slightly round to the south-east. It remained cool, and the day had produced a welcome miracle. It was not till 5 p.m. (we had halted at 2) that the baggage-animals trailed into camp slowiv, drearilv and wearily. Four or five of them had collapsed' during the day, and the men in attendance had been kept busy adjusting and readjusting loads to relieve the worst case.s. Some of them had been ‘ snuffed ’ to keep them going, and one of them had given birth to a premature calf which had been slaugh¬ tered at once. The meat was triumphantly brought in dang- ling from the flanks of various beasts of the party, but the mother had been allowed a respite from carrtdng a load. I bring you good news ot fat, Ali had said as he came up. And perhaps now, I suggested, we shall have more milk for ve hate had little of late, he replied, the
old cow will yield no milk till she has drunk her fill of water. As a matter of fact she never gave a drop — the strain had been too great for her. l’ was Just about dead-beat at this time and sat listlesslv among mv com¬ panions round the fire while they cooked the tender meat in the ashes. I was as ready as any of them for the welcome nourishment and took my share in every round of the good things that came, hot and fresh, from the fire. That seemed to put fresh life into me and I went back to my tent with a strange sense of well-being. A pot of tea com¬ pleted the good work, and Zaid cooked a small dish of rice for Sa’dan and me.
Zayid came to me during the evening to press for some night-marching. The camels were in a bad way and our water supply was dangerously low, while we had only covered some 20 miles on the first day . 'W' e had far to go and we must cover the ground more rapidly to avoid disaster. I was in a com¬ fortable mood for negotiations after long privations and in a fairly strong position to turn things to my advantage. They could not force me to march by night and I claimed but little of the available water. I could at least demand that they should be as abstemious as myself and I knew that that would trouble them. Look you, Zayid, I said frankly, it is you that s
274
THE EMPTY QUARTER
have baulked me at every turn. The rest of our companions fear you and would gladly foUow me but for such fear. R i! you alone that can help me in my plans ; the rest are utterlv useless. Wm you do as I wish if I do as you wish in this matter of night-marching ? You have given me your word that we shall go up again from Haifa into the desert when we are rested. Will you assure me again now that that is indeed yoim intention ? If so I will march as may be necessary bv night that we may get to Haifa the quicker. The strong one IS God, he replied with aU his native glibness, and if it be of God’s will we shah go up again as I have promised you. We wffl send the baggage back by the easy way, and a few of us with as much water as possible will accompany you across the desert. So we patched up a truce in our long fight, and it was a^d that the transport should set out at midnight while the rest of us would start three hours later. On that basis preparatiom were now made and the baggage went off with tUe usual fuss and clatter while we slept on till 3.30 a.m when for the first time since starting out on our expedition we m^ched by moonlight. I could console myself with the reflection that I already had a sufficiently good idea of the country in these parts. An hour or two of marching in the dark would be immaterial and a pleasant experience in • ^^Seneral direction was slightly north of east with Altair and Deneb as our guides, while the moon gave enough hght to shw the general lie of the ridges and valleys and tL bouthem Cross accompanied us on the right hand. But aU the advantege of our propititious start was dissipated when
? /S ® “y companions
^ight of them rode with me— insisted on brewing coffee
for wffich t^y were ever faint after three or four hours of marchmg. That seemed to me wretched backsliding in the c^^stances but I refrained from comment or criticism, having adopted the attitude that the ordering of aU our movemente should rest with Zayid alone. On the first day of ^ march Earraj had reined back to ride with me. You
TOuTf would have gone forward with
you if you had decided to continue the march to Sulaiyil. I am mdeed ever at your service, and sustenance is from God.
RETREAT 275
It IS too late to talk Hke that now, I replied, you and Salih had a chance last night to show that j^ou were men. But vou failed me and now everything is in the hands of Zayid. if I want any help or service I shall henceforth seek it of him. Salih had wisely kept aloof from me, while ’Ali. thoroughly disgruntled by the events of the night at the Hawava camp, dected to march for the first two days with the baggige. Ibn Humaiyid was an adequate, if uncommunicative and unin- spiring, guide for the nonce, and I was glad enough to be quit of Ali, who had played .me false and was scarcely likely to be of further practical me to me. I had indeed registered a de- termination that he and Earraj should not be of the desert party when we should set out from Jfaifa. It was pleasent enough sitting round the fire in the morning chill with coffee and sweetened milk (from Humaid’s mount) to cheer our¬ selves withal. A gentle breeze blew from the south-east as we resumed the march over the undulating upland with occas¬ ional transverse ridges, behind which the stars which had directed our course vanished one by one into the growing pool of dayhght. The sun itself appeared above the horizon about 6 a.m. and the real day’s work had begun with our¬ selves only about five miles to the good.
As we passed soon afterwards into Khillat Hawaya the country resembled a storm-tossed sea, with the axis "of the sand breakers lying NE. and SW. Here we saw the fairly fresh tracks and night lodging of a pair of Oryx, and I observed^ that there was greater abundance of vegetation, with the inevitable Abal most in evidence and some Alga here and there — a favourite herb of camels and Oryx. Patches of blue-grey rock varied the monotony of the sands, on which I found embedded the fragments of an egg of some Rmfl]] bird, possibly the Desert Lark, which we saw two or three times during the day. We saw by their traces that the baggage people had halted for the dawn prayer only ten mil^ from their starting point — a poor result for some five hours march- ing. But the camels were played out. To-day was the seventh day out from the last serious watering, and prac¬ tically nowhere in all that time had we found sufficient green food to correct the natural consequences of such abstinence.
276
THE EMPTY QUARTER
In suoli circumstances flatulence is a common and dangerous malady among camels, to cure which the Arabs resort to a curious device. They sew up the anal orifice or plaster it over with a dough of camel-dung, and then tie down the tail fastening it to the saddle with a cord passed under its belly and between the legs, so as to prevent the emission of wind. Shala, the camel which had been confined the previous day, had been treated thus during the night and looked comically uncomfortable enough in aU conscience, but my companions had no doubt that she would not have been able to march at all without such attention.
The cool south wind of the morning gradually freshened to a steady, strong blow arid the sand drifted over the landscape in sheets, entirely obliterating the route of the advance-party. They had however taken warning from the experience from the previous day and had set up beacons of Abal branches on the dune-tops at intervals along their path. The glare from the sand was rather trying during this march and it seemed to me that the whole country around us was in movement attuned to the wind. It is long indeed, said the homesick townsman ’Abdul Rahman, since we saw a real mist. For weeks and months we have seen nought but this blowing sand. No country is this of the Muslimin, nor yet the country of the infidel — ^just the Empty Quarter !
Shortly before halting for our pre-noon break we had passed by a group of three exposed rock-patches on our left hand, one of which was depressed in the centre to a small crater-like hollow, half filled with sand. It was possibly an ancient well, long buried and forgotten, but we did not stop to investigate it closely and merely contented ourselves with giving it a name — ^Bir Hawaya^ — to commemorate our con¬ jecture regarding it. The Abal bushes about our camping place seemed to be full of caterpillars, and later on I caught a dragonfly, but still the general aspect of the country was bare and dreary . W e continued our march over a wide gently rolling plain with scattered dunes of some height and occas¬ ional low ridges. Afar off we caught sight of our baggage- camels ahead though it was barely noon. They were obviously labouring and a little later we saw them halted
RETREAT
277
while preparations were being made to pitc-h the tents. On coming up with them we found no fewer thais seven of the animals sheltering under canvas against the sun. Many a collapse there had been by the w'ay, anu matters looked none too cheerful with only a third of the whole journey behind u.s and our water seriously reduced. But we could not expect miracles of the heavily laden animals in such conditions, and it would be merely courting disaster to send them out again to march in the heat of the afternoon. At the same time they had to get on by hook or by crook, or perish in the wilderness. We accordingly agreed that the only thing to do now was to divide up into two sections and let the baggage-partv march all night and as far into the day as possible in an effort to get to Naifa as soon as it could. The other section, reduced to six persons including myself for there were only six camels considered perfectly capable of bearing the strain involved, would continue the former routine of a .-^hort march before dawn folloTved by continuous marching till near sunset. "Aii, now recovered from his sulks, volunteered to accompanv us as guide — perhaps in order to retain his mount, which was the best of the whole company ; Zayid remained faithful to me, and Salih and Humaid completed the little party with Sa’dan. Everything was thus satisfactorily arranged and I went off late in the afternoon to explore the vallej^ in which we were encamped. At no great distance I came upon a series of exposed calcareous cliffs, about 15 feet high, lying up against and half buried by the lofty sand ridge forming one side of the valley. A number of the familiar little spiral shells was all that rewarded a diligent search of the bare ground at the base of the cliffs, from which I collected an assortment of rock samples. The short walk had almost exhausted me and I wondered vaguely whether I could get back to camp. I was once more desperately hungry— my whole body seemed to be clamouring for food Wt I knew that a good meal of rice was preparing against my return to give the new arrange¬ ments a good start. I made no attempt to respond to the call to prayer at sunset and sprawled weakly on the sand de¬ vouring a couple of raw onions, which I now generally carried in my pocket with a few peppermint tablets against such a
278
THE EMPTY QUARTER
contingency. I then crawled slowly back to camp, where the whole party assembled round a substantial mess of rice, from which I was literally the last to rise. Unfortunately Sa’dan had without any previous warning announced during the day that my supply of tea was exhausted. I had told him to keep the leaves of my last pot for a second brew and it was weak stuff that I had to put up with that evening after dinner. The same leaves were used for a third brew before I retired to sleep, leaving something in the pot to drink cold — and it was deliciously cold — before starting on our march in the early hours of the morrow. And yet again those leaves served for our common refreshment after the dawn prayer, boiled up with water and milk (again from Humaid’s camel for my cow, now almost dry, had been sent on with the baggage) and sweetened with sugar and eardamum to suit the taste of the majority. I had, it is true, a small private supply of tea for emergencies, but this I was saving for the hoped-for fina] attempt on the waterless desert. So for the next few days I was without the comfort of tea, while our daily supply of milk was almost negligible. I came to the conclusion that at Haifa it would be well to make a virtue of necessity and abandon my waterless regime, which could be resumed on our departure thence for Sulaiyil.
Meanwhile we had sped the baggage-train on its weary way through the darkness at 7.45 p.m. hoping that we would not see it again until we ourselves reached Haifa. The night proved rmusuaUy prolific of moths, mostly of one species of Hootuid,i whose larval food plant is pre¬ sumably the Ahal, now in full bloom with its dull red tassels and little white edible fiowers. Of the latter, mixed with rice, the Manasir made me a dish olMaUlca, which they recom¬ mend one not to eat with meat, which it is liable to to the consistency of leather. Erom time to time m the extremity of my hrmger I browsed on the raw fiowers as we marched along and I was to discover in due course that the djy twigs of this plant, slightly crushed in a mortar and mixed TOth hot water, made a fairly satisfactory substitute for tea. Its colour was all that could be desired but the liquid was ^ a new species.
■wxc*iju.viAiAXJig xui. J.J1© aawii will soon oe upon, ns,
they said' ; it is time to pray, by wMch they meant it was time to think of coffee ! The fire was soon ready and the water aboil, while I lay strefched on the sand and slept bhssfiiliy till they roused me for the prayer. Then we .sat round for the so.rTy but welconie thimblefuls of milk and coffee that fell to
o.iir lot. And soon we were again in the saddle to ride into the dawn — a pinkish flush slowly widening in the sky to our right front until the sun’s golden orb flooded the vast ocean of rolling dimes with the light of d.ay. A pair of larks piped to each other in the cool, still air of the morning — ^the notes of the sexes being, as I thought, very different — and .a raven sailed past ns presumably to prospect for food at our last halting-place.
We passed by a lofty dune of peculiarly beautiful lines and curves, but were taken aback to find that the advance-party had halted for the dawn prayer only a little way beyond it. We had come but twelve miles or so from our night camp and it was difficult to believe that the baggage-train had mMe no better progress than that in the nine hours that had. elapsed between their starting and the time for prayers. Yet there was no mistaking their traces — ^the spot where they had lighted a fire for their coffee and the lino formedl in the sand
by their prostrations. They had probably had trouble in the darkness and gone astray, but the simple feet remained that they had made little progims and there could be Ittle doubt that we would after all catch them up ^^ain.
To our right and converging towards our front lay the tract known as Hadhat al Qata. At intervals a group of
280
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Hadh bushes showed that we were marching on the frontier line between it and the Khillat, in which for the most part we remained till the very end of the day’s long march. A line of green Andab grass announced our re-entry into regions which had had rain during the last year or two. The undulating plain gave way shortly to the typical long parallel dune^ ranges of the Sawahib formation, which extends unbroken from here, as they declared, to distant Muqshin in the south¬ eastern sands. We ploughed steadily on over the eternal switchback of ridges and valleys, slanting across the latter and following the former until we foimd suitable spots at which to cross them. The wind had sprung up from the south-west, pleasant enough at first though growing warmer rapidly, and I noticed that the sand trails in the lea of the desert bushes now pointed to the north or north-west — auto¬ matic recorders of the prevailing winds of a district over a period of days.
At 10.30, having marched five hours since our last refresh¬ ment, we halted for coffee— and they had made also a substi¬ tute tea of cardamum and sugar. So far this day we had had nothing whatever to eat except a few raw onions, but we had not far to go as it proved for our next meal. Starting off over an upland of high rolHng downs and ridges, we continued over a regular switchback of gentle undulations until, towards 1 p.m., we crossed a steepish ridge to find the hollow below us occupied by our advance-party in camp. The last part of the march had been blazing hot and we rejoiced at a sight which was also somewhat disconcerting. Again a number of the camels were sheltering against the sun under canvas and our own ammals, as we came up, made a wild dash for the same cover, trying to enter the tents— rider and aU. We had much ado to couch them in the open to off-saddle, and I had to ^are my tent with three camels and some of my men However Zaid was already well on with his preparations for a meal, and m due course we composed ourselves for an after¬ noon si^ta after a substantial and satisfying dinner of plain looked unutterably miserable and were in ee u ^r y exhausted, though happily unconscious of the supreme effort which they would shortly be caUed upon to
RETREAT 281
make. A butterfly tempted me out into the open but I soon returned to shelter, and slumbered until the call to prayer roused the camp to action. Shortly before 5 p.m. we loaded up and marched off — once more an united company. The country was much as before though the hollow dunes faced north instead of south-east. An hour later the sun sank below the horizon behind us and we halted to pray. In the gloam¬ ing we marched again, over the same scenery of long ridge.- separated by wide valleys, with Jupiter to mark our general direction. Za3dd rode stripped to the waist to enjoy the coolth and we marched for an hour and a half to the edge of Kh^at Adraj, whence the baggage-train went straight on while my small party of six halted for a night's rest. We had made good use of February's extra day, haying coyered more than 30 miles, but something like oO more, so far as we could Judge, still remained while our water was all but exhausted. I lay down to rest without thought of anything else and was soon fast asleep. My companions made coffee and mill- but did not wake me, so I remained supperless and it was 2.30 a.m. when I was roused for the long march before us. It was a delicious night, cool and windless, and the waning moon was Just above the horizon.
Two hours later we halted for prayers within the borders of Hadh ‘Ain Sala, and there we used up the very last of our water in a final effort to brew courage and endurance. The carefully hoarded tea-leaves of yesterday were produced by
Coffee was of course indispensable and with the little that remained of the water, after these primary calls on it had been satisfied, Salih sat apart at a second fire and cooked ns a modest breakfast of rice hberaly buttered from the leather jug he carried at his saddle-bow. That certainly filled me with cheerful strength and once more we started, Salih taking ad¬ vantage of his successful and much appreciated cooking to in¬ gratiate himself with me once more. Bid you like that rice ? he asked ; I cooked it for your sake and for the sake of the Amir (i.e. Zayid). I seek ever to serve you both. I admitted that I had enjoyed my meal, perhaps rather grudgingly, for I have never been able to^ appreciate and never encourage this
282
THE EMPTY QUARTER
curious Arab weakness for vaunting an obsequious desire to please. Another national characteristic, somewhat akin to this, is the constant anxiety to be the announcer of good or pleasing news — ^in the hope of reward. It is less objection¬ able, of course, and has an intelligible basis of origin, but it has a tendency in Arabia to discourage the purveying of true news which is more important and to encourage exaggeration or even suppression of material facts. But the East in general has no squeamishness about working for rewards. What else indeed should one work for ? The philosophy of Arabia is definitely materialistic both in its metaphysics and its ethics.
Two and a half hours later, after passing across a valley with considerable profusion of Hadh and Alqa, we re-entered EdiiUat Adraj, and I realised that practically ever since leav¬ ing camp in the morning we had roughly been following (now on this side and now on that) the hne of demarcation between the tracts of Hadh 'Ain Sala and Khillat Adraj . Good news for you, of fat, shouted Salih riding up to us from the rear where he had been lagging behind with ’Ah Jahman. I thought they might have caught a hare lying asleep in a bush, for we had heard no shot, but it was nothing as commonplace as that. ’Ah’s camel had shown signs of premature co^ne- ment under the strain of such marching, and the interesting event was expected at any moment. It was, to say the least, inconsiderate of the beast to choose a time when every minute counted towards salvation. A halt was caUed in the interests of the expectant mother and Sahh gathered sticks for a fire in exultant expectation of the meat which would soon be cooking in its ashes. I went ofi in search of insects while Zayid composed himself to sleep under a bush and ’Ali and Humaid girt up their loins for the midwifery. The camel gazed about her miserably as if not quite knowing what was wrong. The midwives made several fruitless attempts to hasten the deh very, but each time the half-protruding head withdrew into the womb. The mother alternately stood or lay on her side in apparent pain until at last ’Ali secured a good purchase on the head as it looked out pathetically on the strange world of sun and sand. He then began to pull amain and the recumbent mother lashed out viciously at each tug
Hi
ten montlis but in every respect it seemed to be perfectly formed, tbougli -witii the birth moisture still upon the skin it looked very naked with little hair except on its head and forelegs. The rest of the body was covered very lightly with a soft down, almost invisible until the skin dried.
My companions immediately set to work skinning and carving up the carcase into convenient joints. The share of our absent companions was meticulously set apart to be conveyed to Naifa, and a portion similarly pireserved for the evening meal. The rest was cut up intO' suitable fragments and thrown upon the embers of the fire, whence after a per¬ functory roasting they were withdrawn to be eaten. In ordinary circumstances I do not think I could have brought myself to partake of such a meal, but our immediate cir¬ cumstances were far from ordinary and I could have eaten anything, cooked or raw. At any rate I did my share of the eating and very delicious it wa«.
The whole affair had only delayed us an hour and a quarter, and we went on our way rejoicing. The unfortunate mother was granted a respite from carrying a rider, while ’AM rode piUion behind Humaid, To prevent flatulence and ife consequences her t«dl was. tied down in the manner already
THE EMPTY QUARTER
described, the after-birth protruding from it sideways until in due course it came or was pulled away. The vegetation was distinctly more copious than any we had seen for many days and was more abundant on the Hadh 'Ain Sala side of the dividing line, into which we passed again soon after resuming our march. Here we found fresh Andab and Alqa in some profusion besides Hadh and Abal, and our camels nibbled at them as they went though very gingerly it seemed, for they were now so distraught with thirst that they could scarcely eat anjrthing except during the cool hours of the night. They just dragged along as our men urged them forward over a vast gently roUing hght-brown plain extending into the far
peacefi mantle At 4 sumed. also bei to be a
get the
sun sai
Every i he gets think c of cooh seldo
had ( to le£ thirsi yield growing
7 p.i being who ■ the £ guidi strain w.i wearied rode a ] carried i could nc
progress there wa strayed looked li steep fa( the peri below n
RETREAT 285
}3eacefiilly in the shade of an Abal biisli OTerspreaci with my mantle.
At 4 p.m. or a little later, after prayers as iisuaL we re¬ sumed. There were some clouds in the west as there liad also been for a short time during the night ; and there seemed to be an unwonted cooling of the air. I rode bareheaded to get the best of the light breeze that fanned us, while the feeble snn sank rapidly towards the edge of the world behind ns. Every day in the great deserts one breathes a sigh of relief as he gets low enough in the sky to lose Ms strength and one can think contentedly of the twelve hours or more that lie ahead, of coolth and darkness, until he comes again. The nights are seldom anything but delightful, but this afternoon somehow
VYe naitea lor prayers at tne crest or a great ncige as the sun sank in a blaze of gold and purple. Up to this point we had covered about 30 miles, and I should have been content to leave the remaining distance till the mornmg, but my nov^ thirsting companions clamoured insistently to press on. I yielded to their pressure and we marched through the growing dusk along the broad valleys and over the steep ridges until we crossed the familiar range of 'Ain Sala about 7 p.m., the buried well by wMch we had camped before being at some distance to the north-east of tMs point. ’Ali, who was now riding Zayid’s mount w^hile the latter bestrode the so recently confined Naviva, made no mistake in Ms
strain was telling on my own camel and she began to lag till I wearied of urging, her on. A change was suggested, and I rode a less elegant but faster animal which had Mtherto
ICJP V V 9 ■ ■ i 1
■VJilfKiB
could not dispense with. That greatly improved our rate of progress, but it was a long cry from 'Ain Sala to Haifa and there was much arguing in the dark as to whether we h.ad not strayed from the direct Hne. ’AM led us straight into what
286
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Haifa itself, and we Pad struck the summit of the ridge at the very point where a gently sloping corridor led down between two great buttresses towards the weU. ’Ali had surpassed himself. He had a sense of the desert shared only by the very best of his own kind. It was something incredible, altogether inexplicable. I thought, said I to him, in the midst of mv companions’ paean of thanksgiving and congratulations, that you did not know your way in the dark. God guide you ! he replied, the camels could not have lived another night with¬ out water. He said nothing about coffee !
We trailed down into Haifa. It was well past 11 p.in. and we had done 45 miles during the day, a magnificent per formance for camels on the ninth day without water and for men exhausted by hunger. The sky had suddenly clouded over heavily to north and north-east, and frequent fiashes of hghtning told of a distant storm.
Have you any water there ? I caUed to Zaid as I passed his kitchen camp. Yes, indeed, he replied, and here it is, cold as
snow. May it refresh you! In a trice I was off my camel and
holding the grateful bowl to my fips— the first water I had tasted m 55 days. I drank slowly and with rehsh till I had yarned it to the last drop. And then I fiUed again and drank And yet once more-a third bowl. Only then was I satisfied and never in aU my fife have I tasted such nectar. Yet it was the water of Haifa, foul, briny stuff with aU the properties of the salts called Epsom or something stronger. I had broken my long self-imposed rule of abstinence from water, and I felt amazmgly refreshed by the experience. Zaid had lost no time since the arrival of the baggage-train about an hour after sraset, and we soon sat down to a stupendous dish of nce^^ The camels were watered at once, and I spread my beddmg m the open for a wen-earned rest. The great retreat ^d b^n successfufiy accomphshed without any casualties
reorganise our forces before facing the final bout of our great tussle with the desert
CHAPTER III
RECUPERATION
’Tie weU with thee if thy steed be weh, bnt feints the rider of
famtmg beast — Fajsbaj jx ’Abqahi.
night was rough and stormy. The wind swept from time to time in howling, violent gusts across my bed, covering it with sand. But I slept soundly enough till nearly 5 a.m., when I was woken by a gentle patter of rain-drops, which lasted for about fifteen minutes. I lay on my back open- mouthed to catch the drops, and relapsed into slumber to be woken again by the call to prayer. At 8 a.m. we had a sharp but short shower, and for the next hour there was an inter¬ mittent spitting of rain. The sky remained overcast but there was no more rain that day, though about 10 a.m. violent squalls swept down into the hollow from the north¬ east, making things exceedingly imcomfortable for us and uprooting our tents, which we made no attempt to pitch again until the wind had abated somewhat. Later in the afternoon, the sky remaining overclouded, the wind dropped to a gentle north-east breeze with promise of more rain. It was indeed a blessed day, that second of March. The Arabs were as happy as sandboys and all day long paid visits to the surrounding dune-tops, from which they shouted out to us in the hollow the news of the weather around us. At first the rain seemed to be for the most part in the north-east, while later on it had transferred its attention to the south¬ west, whence came occasional flashes of lightning and the low growl of distant thunder. Only in the west and north¬ west, which were of primary concern to me, there were no signs of rain that day. I waited anxiously for some indication of the general temper of my companions and asked no lead¬ ing questions about conditions in the west. But I had one
Wi
288 THE EMPTY QUARTER
uncomfortable moment when there was talk of Bir Padhil I kept silence.
Our first concern after the daATO prayers had been inevi¬ tably for the camels, which had drunk but gingerly over¬ night in the extremity of their thirst. They were now again led down to the well, where they had their fiU. They crowded greedily round the great metal tray, which served them as drinking-trough as well as ourselves for dinner-table and dish. The men had much ado to keep it full of water as a dozen long necks jostled for the hquid and as many pairs of lips sucked it up with manifest signs of satisfaction. The sated beasts withdrew for a while but stood about the well returning every now and then to the trough for another swig, and at last the last barrel had had its fill. The animals scattered to browse on the Abal bushes in and about the hollow while the herdsmen, ’Ah al Buhaihi and Muhaimid, breakfasted and collected the rations necessary for their sojourn of three days in the pastures beyond ‘Ain Sala, whither it had been decided to send the animals to recu¬ perate from the fatigues and privations of their recent march and to gather strength for the coming ordeal.
Meanwhile there was an important question for us all to discuss and decide. We still had plenty of rice, hut there was nothing left of the dates except the two skins of my private store, which I had uncompromisingly earmarked for the party that was to cross the waterless desert. We could take no rice on that journey as we should have no water for its cooking, but dates alone would scarcely suffice us and the baggage party could not be expected to do with nothing but rice. Meat was an obviously desirable addition to our diet and there were only two possible sources of supply. Game we could no longer hope for after our recent experience in the desert, but the slaughter of a camel would provide us with flesh for many days, and we had agreed in principle during the march that we might reasonably celebrate our arrival at Haifa by the sacrifice of one of our animals to our urgent need. The individual had already been selected, one of the victims of our original breakdown— a beast with more beef than stamina. And now had come the moment for
28§
BECUPERATION
giTing eSect to our plan. After the watering of the camels I suggested that the intended victim should be detached from the rest of the herd now ready to go to the pastures. I noticed however that there was a good deal of hesitancy among inj coinpanions, who, one and ail, desired the meat. They awaited Za^^dd’s approval, without which not one of them would have stretched forth a hand against an animal of Ibn Jiluwi. Had we not earlier at Wabar abandoned one of the camels tO' almost certain death rather than slay it for the pot, when lameness rendered it unfit to march with us ? Ihn Jiluwi could have no reason to cavil at that, but he had been known to visit with Ms heavy-handed wrath myniiidoiis who had lessened the numbers of his stock to appease their hunger on an expedition. Zayid would not pronounce the fateful word and the matter hung in the balance. I exerted all my influence to secure meat for the company and went as far as to command Abu Ja'sha to do the deed. He hung back regretfully and I had to argue the point out with Zajdd, whom I assured of my acceptance of Ml responsi¬ bility. His unwilling opposition slowly relaxed. Abu Ja’sha sought out the intended victim and led her to the 'kitchen camp, where her blood soon flowed out upon the sands. There was much rejoicing in the camp. The skinning of the beast was the work of a few moments, and a portion of the meat was handed to the herdsmen to take away to the pastures. The camels trailed off out of the Haifa hollow into the desert, while the men left behind in camp concentrated whole-heartedly on the various functions of butcher and cook. I accepted a tit-bit rapidly roasted in the ashes of the fire, but reserved my main energies for the meal wMch Zaid waa soon getting ready. My companions, however, spent most of the morning cooking and eating choice portions. And A1 Aqfa, the Salnqi bitch which had starved with the rest of us for nine days, during wMch she had had practically nothing but date-stones, was not forgotten in the general good fortune. She must have absolutely gorged heiaelf with raw meat for, when I saw her, she waa making a pathetic effort to drag heiaelf towards a howl of water only a few yards distant. On reaching it she flopped down on the sand and
T
290 THE EMPTY QUARTER
lazily, though contentedly, lapped at the liquid with an outstretched paw on either side of the receptacle to steady it. So twice a day, while we remained at Haifa, we feasted nobly on a great dish of camel-meat and rice, which did much to restore our wasted strength, while the harm that might have come of such indulgence was duly rectified by the Haifa water.
After my initial orgy of the previous night I had made up my mind to drink freely of this water during the days of our sojourn here — especially as there was no tea available— and to resume my waterless regimen as soon as we started off on the march across the desert. To this programme I adhered, and to it I probably owed the fact that, at my next weighing about three weeks after my return to Mecca, I turned the scale at a weight well above my normal. I had certainly lost no substance as the result of my ninety days in the desert, and by an accidental indulgence in an unsus¬ pected ‘ cure ’ I had triumphantly restored the health of earlier years which long residence in the Hijaz had shown signs of sapping. Rut these discoveries were for the future. At the moment I was conscious only of the unpleasant and exhausting aspect of the Haifa stuff, which was so salt to the taste that I successfully tried the experiment of adding a liberal quantity of Eno’s fruit-salts to it at each potation (while my one and only bottle of Eno’s lasted). That certainly had a sweetening effect, which was much appre¬ ciated by some of my companions, who also delighted in the fizzing of my strange sherbet. The Haifa water is a very powerful aperient of the Epsom salts type and its potency may be gaupd from the fact that the leather skiTia in which we carried it across the desert were found to be badly cor¬ roded by the salts. Their effect on the tough camel-meat consumed by us must have been somewat similar, for the frequency of om exits into the privacy of the desert became a jest and unfailing source of merriment in the camp. How they all loathed and cursed the stuff and its inexorable effects I I alone insisted on the hygienic advantages of our amazmg situation. There are rich men, I said, in my country, who would willingly spend much of their wealth to
recuperation 291
be in our place, if they only knew of this water. And when the King asked me at Mecca whether we had found anything of practical significance in the desert I told him that at Naifa (and presumably in the whole tract of A! Kiiirani he had all the mategs of an attractive health-resort- if he was minded o develop its possibilities. By a curious coincidence the very name Naifa is an exact palindrome of *lfian, the usual -^abic form of the name of another famous source— Evian. A sample of the water was in due course analvsed in the Res^rch Laboratory of the Anglo-Persian Oil Companv at bunbury-on-Thames and was found to contain a high per- of salts 1 in solution, to wit Chlorides and Sulphates ot bodium, Calcium and Magnesium. ‘ It is not surprising.’ wrote Dr. G. M. Lees to me in this connection, ‘ that the water had the effect which you described. ... I have looked up analyses of various European mineral waters, but there are none that correspond. It has too much chloride to be considered potable in this part of the world. It is like, sav, Baden water with additional ordinarj^ salt and less sulphate in proportion. Its origin is probably from rocks rich in gypsum and magnesium sulphate and salt.’
Having set apart the meat required for our more im¬ mediate needs, my companions did not neglect the require¬ ments of the future. Previous experience had shown us that the salting of meat to preserve it was liable to create diffi¬ culties where abundance of water could not be counted on to slake the resultant'thirst. It was accordingly agreed that the surplus meat of the slaughtered camel— and"^ the quantity it provided was indeed astonishing— should be dry-cured in sun and wind without salt. The raw meat was accordingly carved in wide thin slices, which were spread out on every convement Abal thicket for the drying. For a while the
^ The details of the actual analysis, dated 6th August, 1932, are as follows :
Total solids dried at 110° C. 861 pts./l 00,000 Calcium (Ca) - - . 61-5
Magnesium (Mg) - - 20-4 , ”
Sodium (Na) 1 - . 170
Sulphate (S04) - - . 274
Chloride (C12) - - - 2§9 ”,
Carbonate (COS) - - 10 ”
Bicarbonate - . . absent.
292 THE EMPTY QUARTER
stench in and around our camp was appalling, but our men were ever on the lookout to weed out the putrefying morsels from the stuff that was curing according to plan, and by tke end of our sojourn there was a goodly mass of healthy- looking, well-dried strips of raw meat to be distributed among the two companies, into which we formed ourselves for our two different destinations. This raw dried meat presumably resembles biltong, which I have never seen or tasted, and tbe process is familiar enough to the hunters of Oryx and gazelles in the desert.
A pair of ravens took up their residence on the dunes of Haifa during our stay and hovered about the camp fondly eyeing the rich stores at our disposal, but without daring to approach near enough to do any thieving. They had good enough reason for their wariness for one of the birds had lost a leg to a bullet from Zayid’s rifle on our previous visit to this locahty. It seemed to be unaffected by its loss of a limb except that it was apparently unable to hop about like its companion. The only other tenantof the place besides our¬ selves was a Wheatear which during these days was a regular and persistent visitor to the well, whose water it presumably did not disdain. Its cheerful cheeping was a pleasant sound in my ears, especially in the peaceful silence of the early mornings. Our hunters prospected the desert in vain for hares though the two herdsmen reported having captured a brace while grazing the camels beyond ‘Ain Sala.
Having disposed of the main preoccupations of the morn¬ ing, including our first good meal, I decided to follow the example of my companions by having a bathe. Our rjinriftr tray now served for a bath and Zaid, drawing up the water from the ten-feet depth of the well in the leather bucket, poured it over me time and again till I was satisfied. The water was pleasantly warm from the well — ^we generally left the luke-warm stuff to cool in the skins before drinking— and I thoroughly enjoyed the first proper bathe I had had since leaving the Hasa. I had moreover not indulged in a change of clothing all these weeks, wearing the same things night and day, till it now began to dawn on me from certain un¬ mistakable and irritating indications that my body had
RECUPERATION 293
become amenable to occupation by the companions of my companions and their camels. It was an interesting though somewhat disturbing thought and I decided precipitately on a complete change of raiment after my cleansing. A morbid curiosity led me to examine those parts of mv dis¬ carded clothing which had been nearest my skin — and my conjecture as to the state of my body was confirmed by the discoveries I made. Thereafter I was more careful to avoid the risk of further visitations of those minute but not in¬ visible beings whose very name is generally left unuttered.
Thus did our first day of rest draw to an end with all the omens favourable. The long tension of our recent trying march had made way for an atmosphere of contentment and goodwill. Our healthful bodies, subdued by long hunger, had reacted pleasantly enough to the influence of plentiful food and water. And I retired to bed early that night with a strange sense of well-being and optimism.^ For the'^first time in all the long couree of our expedition the stars in their courses seemed to be fighting on my side, and I prayed that the stormy conditions might continue for some days more.
My prayer was promptly answered, for I was woken at 2 a.m. by the pleasant patter of rain on my canvas roof and for half an hour the showers continued. They ended with a short but heavy downpour, and I slumbered again while sheets of lightning lit up the great storm-clouds which seemed to be spread over the sky in every direction. At noon the temperatme had been 84°, rising to 88° during the after¬ noon and falling to a minimum of as much as 70° during the night. The minimum night temperatures in the desert had been a good deal lower than this figure, ranging from 60° to 63° during the last few days.
Salih, seeking ever to please, made me some Abal tea after prayers next mormng, and I found that it somewhat toned down the virulence of the water. At noon I enjoyed another bathe at the well, but the heat rapidly became very oppres¬ sive. I found it exceedingly painful to walk barefoot on the heated sand and by 3 p.m. the thermometer in my tent registered 97°. The storm conditions of the morning had given way to bright sunshine which blazed down mereil^sly
294
THE EMPTY QUARTER
into OUT hollow, depressing everyone’s spirits to such an extent that there again arose talk of beating a hasty retreat to the north. Sa’dan reported a suggestion that had been made by Zayid in conversation round the coffee-fire that I should be asked to give them a written guarantee of indemnity against the contingency of my perishing in the desert ! With such companions such a condition was clearly impossible of acceptance. But the matter was never actuaUy raised in my presence and, when I sat at coffee with my companions after the afternoon prayer, I seized the opportunity of opening a discussion of our future plans.
You know, I said, that at the beginning of our journey we all contemplated finishing the expedition together so that we might reach Mecca in time for the pilgrimage. For those who are going with me across the desert to Sulaiyil there is still plenty of time to fulfil that arrangement, but we are agreed that the baggage-animals cannot march with us. I had hoped that they might go round by Bir Fadhil and Maqai- nama to rejoin us at Wadi Dawasir, but now the time is too short for that. I suggest therefore that the baggage-party should march straight to Riyadh, and I will despatch with them a letter to the Amir Sa’ud asking him to send those who want to do the pilgrimage by motor car to Mecca, while those who prefer to return straight to their famihes can go down to the Hasa with the camels.
I had already broached this idea with one or two of the men who happened to be at the well while I was bathing. They had approved it strongly and it was obvious that they had lost no time in communicating it to their fellows. At any rate I was astonished at the chorus of assent that greeted the scheme when I propounded it. Not a word was said about any written guarantee or other conditions for the desert journey, and I was able on the spot to take the names of those desiring to enroll themselves in the three parties envisaged by my proposal. Zayid and I had agreed that the desert party should consist of nine persons including myself, and the composition of this section presented no difificulty ^ I had firmly expressed my desire to exclude from it both Ah and Farraj . The two herdsmen being temporarily
feo Mecca via Riyadh, while the rest had no desire but to get back as soon as possible to their families. At that we left things for the time being, and I was ail too pleased to see practicallj complete harnaonT re¬ established among ns. The previous evening in a dream I had seen the great Ring at my side, distressed at my de¬ spondency. 'Vt'hat ails yon, he had asked, that yon are so
5 of yonr trouble for I will put it mong ns, coupled with a definite ttempt on the waterless desert, m the vision.
3iiditioiis, the rain and sqnaly 3 effect on the ‘ Singing Sands ’ of ite dnrinff our present solonm.
but the music lasted barely five seconds, and the despatch of Sa’dan np to the ridge to see what he could do brought no result. The conditions were doubtless unsuitable and, hot as it was at that hour, it would seem to me that the amount of moisture absorbed by the sands durins the recent showera
genii loci were sulking on account of our indecorous hilarity durins* their musical demonstrations in bnnonr nf rmr li«at
visit to their abode. They were thus lashing us with violent squalls instead of charming us with sweet music.
* ht ' ^
I ifu ii
among the clouds to north and north-west, but there was no rain on us and the morning dawned fine enough with very light clouds high up and slowly moving northwards. Later on the north wind came down upon us in violent gusts, sweeping the hollow with sheets of flying sand, which threatened the stability of the tents and almwt buried the great store of meat stacked by the kitchen. It wm horribly uncomfortable in camp under the lash of the whirlwind, but
296 THE EMPTY QUARTER
the sky was for the most part overcast and the sun only struggled through feebly at wide intervals. It was, therefore much cooler than it had been the previous afternoon, while I derived much satisfaction from the fact that such actual rainfall as could be observed was concentrated afar off to the west on the very line which we should soon be following.
During the afternoon I went forth again to the weU for a bathe to escape the stuffiness of my tent, intensified by a regular gathering of the clans to bask in the sunshine of my new-born good humour, which was perhaps expected to result in a further distribution of bounty, though I had firmly made up my mind that no further rewards should be given until actually earned. The baggage-people would get their proper dues at Riyadh on handing over safely aU the cases and packages scheduled in my letter to the heir- apparent — and I may anticipate the subsequent course of events to the extent of stating that all the baggage arrived safe and intact at Mecca. The men concerned also received the payments indicated in my letter, while those who went with me were duly rewarded after our safe arrival.
A few drops of rain fell while I was bathing, and at 6 p.m. a violent squall burst upon us from the north-east. It lasted intermittently for four hours. The whirlwind filled the deep hollow of Haifa with edd3dng clouds of sand. The ropes and pegs strained and strained again in the effort to hold the tents to their unstable foundation. Crash went the taber¬ nacle of my companions, levelled over their heads. Crash went mine as I clutched desperately at everything likely to be carried away. One of my precious kilhng-bottles, already a little cracked by some earlier accident, was hurled against a stone and smashed to atoms. And, crawhng out from under the debris of the tent, we all sat disconsolately in the open while the stinging sand played upon us like a hose. We could scarcely stand steady as we lined up for the simset prayer, and our dinner was eaten in circumstances of un¬ imaginable discomfort. How Zaid and Ibn Musainid had ever managed to cook it under such conditions was a mystery, and it was a miracle indeed that they had done so without a more lavish admixture of sand.
Before sunset I had gone out into the desert to haTe a look roundj and the scene that met my eyes was truly amazing. Great black clouds of sand raced before the gale along the summits around us like squadrons of Talkyries, while from the higher dune-tops streamed as it were dark peiiiiants in the wind and the desert floor was sw’ept as by driving snow, sheet after sheet of white sand, like successive waves of a cavalry charge. It was a spectacle never to be forgotten, that desert in stormy mood with the roll of distant thunder and the blinding flashes that rent the lowering clouds. The tempest ceased as suddenly as it had begun, but the sky remained clouded and it was not til Just before dawn that I was able to secure the very necessary astronomical observa¬ tions for which I had waited so patiently all these days. Even then I was only able to deal with one star- — Spica, — - for the growing daylight cut short mv observations of Aitair.
298 the empty QUARTEE
together with Muhaimid I eventuaUy accepted as additions to our party, whose numbers thus rose to eleven. Anions the remainder there was much searching of hearts as to the respective advantages of going to Mecca or to the families waiting patiently in the Hasa. Farraj, having his plea for mclusion in my party definitely rejected, changed his mind no less than seven times that day and finally decided in con- jmction with ’Ah Jahman and Ibn Humai5rid to abandon all thought of the pilgrimage and return to the Hasa. So all these matters were in due comse decided and disposed of and I embodied the arrangements made in a letter to the
Ajmr Sa ud, of which ’Abdul Rahman was nominated to be the bearer.
Meanwhile I had devoted all the available time to packing up everything that was to go to Riyadh. For the desert jomney it was obviously desirable to carry an absolute minimum of impedimenta, but it was no easy matter deciding what to take and what to send back. In case of possible accidents, which one had to envisage quite solemnly, I de¬ cided to send back aU maps, observation-books, and my main mary so that these at least should not be lost to the world in the event of our failure to get across the desert. I accord- mgly wrote up my journal as far as possible to date before tmaUy consigning it to one of the returning boxes. And I was _TOting almost up to the last moment, as far as was possible with the firequent invasion of my tent by those of the returning party who wished to reassure themselves that they were not sacrificmg the reward of their past and future labours by desertmg my person at this stage. Farraj was ^he most persistent mth ’Ali Jahman a good second. Oh haikh Abdullah, said the latter, you know that I would have hked to accompany you to the end, but the baggage- tram must have a conductor and I know the country it ^ have to pass over better than any of them, while I have no knowledge of the desert between here and Sulaiyil. But I am at yom service to go with you if you wish it. And you know that the provisions we have for the baggage-party are not enough for us. WiU you not therefore |ive Is jL a httle money for replemshing our stores on the way ? And
a; THE PAPvTV RHTLtINIXC'j Ti) Ri’EADK FROM XA!FA. IFn Hun'ji'-iF, 'AFFai Rah.T.jr:, Ibr. M., IT..: RCTshm
where, ; t-Ms des answere when yc from Ri came aj allot hij guide, allotted every m his felloe As th completi ment to their resi summon after o p later the desert a dallied a were gat] on our lo baggage ^ Forgiven forgive, ] keeping < panions c farewell * his lips h looks bac
RECUPERATION 299
where, I asked demurely, wiE you find provisions to buy in ^ desert. . We can buy what we want at Khar j, he ai^wered, when we get there. To which I replied : Go to » when you reach Kharj you wiU be but an easv day’s journev from Riyadh. He retired unsuccessful but unabashed, and came agam to express a hope that I had not forgotten to o m a arger reward than the rest for his services as
j ^ know the rewards
allotted to each of you when you arrive at Riyadh. In fact
Ms^felbws ^ exactly the same as
As the afternoon wore on our preparations approached completion. The camels were watered with every encourage- men o (^mk their fill, which they did readily enough after their restful sojourn amid good pastures. We ourselves were summoned to a final dinner of camel-meat and rice soon atter 5 p.m. The camels were loaded up, and half an hour later the baggage-party filed up out of the hoUow into the desert and turned north-east. Farraj and ’Ali Jahman daihed a moment over the coffee-fire, where the rest of us were gathered for a final round of refreshment before starting on our long trek. As they rose to foUow in the tracks of the baggage each of them saluted me with a kiss on the forehead For^veness for our failings ! said ’AJi. There is nothing to forgive, I replied, but I thank you for your services. In the keeping of God ! And so I parted from eight of the com¬ panions of two months of wandering in the wilderness. The fareweU of the Arab is manly indeed. With fair words on Ms lips lie strides off into the desert and is gone. He never looks back.
CHAPTEK IV
THE WATERLESS WASTE
Where there is no water, ’tis the Empty Quarter; none thither goes.
— StJWiD An Azma.
to BMids Of Haifa receded behind us into the gloamina a, we marched north-west towards Adraj— eleven men lith ^en camels and a dog. The camels were festooned S water-sta and garlands of raw dry meat, which gave « a
fragrant odour in the cool night air.
Sunset being almost upon us when aU was ready for a start we had delayed for a few moments to aecomphsh the cus’ tom^y prayer-rites by the ashes of our camp-fire The clouds had once more begun to gather over ^ fhZ
mounted to begm the great adventure. The omens were
lie dunes of Arabia wore a mantle of Scotch mist mil nf
tS'Jariie^^ intervals as we went into
the darkness. AU we could see was the ghostly silhouettes
of our compamons marching along in ghostly sUence And
M °A Q and vaUeys ofihe
Haifa- Ain Sala district untU we came to a great rani on tL
Unons Belt stood upon the western horizon A sino-le mcidcnt had caused a slight commoHon dS'the uS ^ Aqfa was suddenly discovered to be misZ sSTad missed her good friend the cook in our comnrfv and k!d apparently gone off back to Haifa in search o/him We
ZvZZ "T'T to the sad loss but ^
Lore sidSiTl^to the familiar shape was seen once
drawn blanker E She had
dwelling-place and returned
300
goes.
Azma.
ling as 1 with d with forth a
' start, e cus- The J then were beast. )ut of t into lettes And )fthe n the Lst as ingle arch, had had We r onr once had rned 'qi is
n]
residue
m tJie a milcli-ci abundai round o
open as was an also at
covered
start to over the the sad until Wi
best of
THE WATERLESS WASTE
3CI1
In the darkness we had laboured somewiiat in negotiatinsr the lofty SmvaMb ridges, but a moderate northerly breeze with some slight drizzling rain had kept ns cool enough and we marched bareheaded. Nevertheless we arrived in eamp tired and hungry. Abu Ja’sha earned onr gratitude by pro¬ ducing a substantial dish of rice, cleverly saved from the residue of our last dinner, out of the depths of his sacldie-bags ; and we set to with some of the raw dried meat, hastily cooked in the ashes and resembling leather, added to the rice. The milch-camels, after their days at pasture, also contributed abundantly to our comfort', and of course there was coffee to round off the proceedings before we composed ourselves for sleep. We had made a propitious start and ail seemed well enough.
When we woke about dawn' — having of course slept in the open as the tents had gone back with the other party— there was an appreciable dew upon the ground, as there had been also at Naifa the previous morning. A cool north breeze blew gently but steadily over the desert, while Mght clouds covered most of the sky with tufts of orange wool. We were glad of the movement necessitated by our preparations for a start to work off the chill of night, and we dawdled a moment over the fire to drink our drops of coffee. At 6.30 we were in the saddle clinging to the southern skirt of the sand-ridge until we came to a low col that enabled us to cross it and resume our general WNW. direction.
There was plentiful vegetation^ in these parts for the camels to crop as they marched, and our progress in consequence was miserably slow, but I said no word. My mount was Na’riya, the heroine of the confinement in the desert, the best of aU. our beasts, strong and fast though a little rough withal. ’Ali Jahman had been loth to part with her, but our need had been great enough to override all sentiment and peraonal preferences. Two months ago she had been con¬ sidered too obstreperous for my inexperienced hands to hold, but the long march had toned her down and she was a delight to ride, though I had to have my wite about me when mount-
1 Hadh, Abed, Alqa, Andab and Birkan — Le,p al tke stapla plants of tto southern Mtnds except jZoAr.
302
THE EMPTY QUARTER
mg. I always insisted on doing that unaided i. quite adept, though the shghtest touch of Se .T
was enough to launch her in full stride. My oriein^r A1 Bahraniya, had fallen to Zayid also a nLd K J inchned to be slow and a little heav^ But Za^d outstanding camel-master of us all, and could out of her without visible effort. ^
Over the great rolling downs, becoming percentibW h. vegetation as we advanced, we struck liSZ ^ ^
atmosphere, cool and clammy under the overcLt skv T f! nothing to be desired. And from fimA +*
started off on the track of a hare annarentW f ^ eyes rather than her nose The ’atX trusting to her
the jSaluqi works bv sieht ratb^ri^ ^ certainly thinks that
be to
certainly appeared to take short cuts where th^h'ttl dots of the hare’s trail fetched a circJrL she
Je7f?r''c!mS-?ack’ eX^f "the f f*
“ e'sITtrtilT'' f actSr^
piece you LelTy^S rTh ,*T
S ao likewise. I was soon recognised as a part-
ner in meir joint} stocK oi meat, but i Iia4 again abandoned the practice of drinking water. SaUm was like a great school¬ boy and prattled freely of all the good things he hoped to take back with him for his family from Mecca. You will speak to
give me an order on the wo sacks of rice and a Si
sugar — ^and coffee. We will surely buy coffee at Sulaivil, I
ae the c
caravans irom rue x aman by way ot l>iajraii, and it shoi cheap. By God ! he said, you are right ; you are a haw
ill be b us. Yc
own was
a niant t the cc
Sala tract and Khillat Adraj , we entered upon a great gently- rolling plain with low ridges at considerable intervals. Here there was neither Hadh nor Birhan and the Andab grass was dead or completely dry, but the Abal remained green and there was fresh Alqa in satisfactory profusion. We passed by some old Oryx-dung, but the only living thing we saw before our morning halt about 11 a.m. was a single Desert Warbler. Our lunch was of dates dipped in butter with coffee, after which, we rested awhile to let the camels graze while there was still good vegetation. I improved the occasion by securing, at long last and after so many fruitier efforts, my first and only specimen of the Spindmis butterfly. The sky was lightly overcast aH round us and a gentle easterly breeze was blowing when we resumed the march at mid-day.
The country rapidly became more and more bare with only
1 Sagr =liawk ; tli6 epithet asqar (very or more itawk-Hke) comes very ii«r in pronunciation to Azka^ the comparative of Zaki (clever).
304 THE EMPTY QUARTER
scattered Abal bushes and very little (though still something) of other plants. A raven appeared on the scene some way ahead to emphasize the lifelessness of our surroundings I recorded the ridges and valleys as we went, a monotonous task in an altogether monotonous world. The men sang grimly to wear down their boredom. Salim discoursed to me of his experiences in the desert. He had never done or attempted its crossing from Shanna or Haifa, and had never heard of anyone else having done it. We are surely the first to make this journey, he said. Beyond Hawaya and Shu- waikila I have no knowledge of these parts except from the talk of others. But once long ago I rode with A1 Nifl from the Aflaj district to Haifa, seeking out the Sa’ar folk to raid. And another time I went from Bir Eadhil to Sulaiyil with our grazing camels, when there had been rain in those parts. The herds remained in the desert, and I went to the village to get dates and other provisions. But this is the Empty Quarter ; no one comes here, never.
So we trailed on rather wearily throughout that afternoon over immense gently-undulatmg plains varied at intervals by rougher patches formed by the confluence of dunes and ridges. At first there was little wmd except occasional refreshing gusts from the north-west, while the clouds for the most part were massed in the south and west. Gradually the wind gathered strength, always coming from the same quar¬ ter, and the flying sheets of sand made the latter part of the afternoon somewhat disagreeable. By 3.30 p.m. a mild gale was blowing and stirring up a feeble sandstorm over a considerable area, blotting out the view. We struggled on but SaMm was showing signs of weariness. I am thirsty, he said, let us stop awhile for our companions to drink. Quite firmly I goaded him on. We will lose time if we halt, I said ; we are in the van and, as long as we march, the others will follow. Look how far they are behind and lagging. Per¬ chance they would like to camp now though the afternoon is scarce half spent. If we stop it wiU mean camping here for the night. By God ! he replied with a sigh of resignation, this country has good pasture. It would do the camels good. We shall come to pastures as good, I replied, before sunset.
THE WATERLESS WASTE 3i».3
There was in fact plentiful fresh vegetation of the usiial varieties, but we soon passed beyond it, and my prophecv was not fulfilled. An hour later, after vain search for £tood pasture, we came to a halt at Zayid s in'istciive — he had trotted up from far in the rear to remonstrate acainst our continued advance — in a narrow depression on the south side of a long ridge of high dunes. We were .still in the tract of Khillat Adraj . and had marched some 27 miles during the day — a fairly reasonable but not partienlarlv good perfor¬ mance. However we had no reason to be displeased with our record of 45 miles from Naifa since sunset the previou.s even¬ ing, and the weather conditions continued favourable. Indeed the sky was fairly heavily overcast all over during the evening, though we could detect no sign of actual rain in any direction, and the mnd, gradually moderating to a mild zephyr, came from the north. The lifclessness of the country was rather depressing, for we had only seen four birds in the whole area covered — a Wagtail and another De.sert Warbler in addition to those alreadj’ mentioned being encountered a little before our arrival in camp. We had meat, however, to cheer us at dinner, though they again made the mistake of cooking the dried strips — this time in butter. Dates too we had — a strictly limited ration doled out by Sa'dan. who was in special charge of the two precious sMns and had my strict instructions to husband the supply on the assumption of a journey of twelve days. There was coffee and milk as usual and, last but not least, there was a pot of tea for myself from my small emergency stock, which I had reckoned would last out the rest of the march at my normal rate of consumption of three (small) pots a day. With a march in prospect for the early hours we were early to bed and the night passed without incident except for a change of the wind from north to east.
I was roused from my slumbers an hour after midnight to find a few drops of rain falling from a lowering sky. There was still a Kght breeze from the east and a clammy moistn^ in the air. With no food or coffee to delay our start we were soon in the saddle, marching about due west over gentle undulating sand-downs with only three ridges — ^and those of no great difficulty — ^to negotiate up to 6 a.m. when we halted u
306
THE EMPTY QUARTER
for the dawn prayer and a light breakfast. The rain had been with ns intermittently throughout this march, and towards dawn there was a good deal of thunder and lightning in the south.
On resuming the march after an hour’s halt we passed almost immediately into the district of Hadh Bani Zainan, an immense gently-undulating drought-stricken plain in which practically all the vegetation except a few Abal bushes was dead. The stumps and long-exposed roots of the larger thickets were black as if they had been burned with fire. It was indeed a desolate scene through which we rode, mostly in silence. It was pleasant to ride bareheaded in the tempered sunHght. The wind had dropped to nothing, and the sky was trying to clear. Again there was no sign of life anywhere though in two spots we observed Oryx dung. We were in the very midst of the Oryx country, but our hunters had lost all inclination for the chase. It was indeed amazing that during aU these weeks not one of us had ever had a glimpse of the animal, which we had hoped so confidently to meet in large numbers. ’Ali Jahman had even spoken of the possibility of eking out our water-supply in emergency by squeezing out the liquid contained in the tripe of the animals we should shoot.
Supposing one was very thirsty, I asked Salim as we rode along ahead of our companions as usual, and had no water, could one make shift with the urine of camels ? You use it to wash your hair and as medicine for your stomach. Could you also use it for ordinary drinking purposes if hard pressed ? No, he replied, it would but make you more thirsty, but we do sometimes get a deal of drinkable Hquid in another way. We take the undigested fooddrom a camel’s cud and squeeze the water out of it. Have you ever gone thirsting for a long period, Salim ? I asked. Perhaps two days, but not more, he repHed, and praise be to God ! I have heard of men who have been longer without water ; perhaps four days, but scarcely more, God knows.
As the morning wore on, patches of beautiful blue sky began to chequer the wide-spread pattern of clouds and the sun grew quite hot behind a thin film of haze. The atmo¬ sphere was rather stifling, and the surface of the sand seemed
ard been towards ; in the
passed nan, an L which les was larger ire. It ostly in tnpered )he sky ywhere 3 in the lost all during i of the n large sibility ing out [ shoot. re rode water, i use it Could f hard i more liquid jameFs )T gone ps two I have erhaps
ue sky nd the atmo- jeemed
(See page 307)
would s« We p uiiiisual
THE WATERLESS WASTE mi
to be quite firm and bard as the result of its recent vatering. Here and there a jumble of short formless ridges broke the general monotony of the bare plain, while in one spot we saw a fine massif of high dunes about a mile or so to the south¬ west, white and grey, in the alternating streaks of sunshine and shadow. Everywhere the plants of the desert were parched and dead, and no living thing did we see till nearly noon when I was thrilled by the sight of a swallow. A swailc/w lost in that wilderness ! Round and round an Aba! hush it was flying when we first saw it. Twice it eirdeci round our little caravan in the friendliest manner, as it might do about a ship at sea, and then it disappeared over a ridge to return no more — apparently travelling northwards. Some days later we were to see its fellows in plenty at Sulaidl— presuinabiy on the main route of their seasonal migration. This one may have strayed from the flock or been blown out of its way. It wmiild scarcely find w^ater to refresh it short of Jabriii.
We passed on, marching paralel with a very long and unusually fine range of dunes extending as far as w’-e could see to north-east and south-west. In due course w^e struck at right angles up its long, steep slope and down over its summit into an absolutely bare plain, where the sand lay in w^ell- marked ribs across our path and its surface was sodden with moisture to a depth of half an inch. There had clearly been more rain here than we had enjoyed at any point, and we spoke longingly of the rich herbage which wmuM soon be sprouting up in this area — ^too late for us, for we had not given the rain time to do its work. Perhaps in a month’s time or more the Arabs of the great desert would be bringing their cattle here to enjoy the fresh pastures, and they would certainly find Oryx and hares in plenty for the pot.
The name of Bani Zainan^ would seem to indicate the generally easy character of this trswst of broad, featureless valleys and plains lying between distant low ridges in con¬ trast with the tract of Hawaya® which signifies frequent', narrow depressions or valleys between high dune-ranges
^ 2am = good, pleasant, wMle the cominoii local term Bani {?.f. children of) seems to be familiarly applied to dtin^ and
* i.e. plenty, quantity, much.
308
THE EMPTY QUARTER
resembling the long rolling breakers of a shallow sea. a distinct from either, the Hibaha or moraine formation is not unhke a storm-tossed ocean covered with ‘ white horses ’ We had marched no less than seven hours without a break when, at 1 p.m., it was voted desirable to make a short hah for refreshments in a wide rolhng plain. There was not much tor the camels to browse on, and with the sun peepins oiu more boldly through the gaps in the clouds, which remained thick only in the south, the atmosphere was inchned to be sultry in spite of a light northerly breeze. Just before halting we had seen the fresh track of a hare, as weU as dung both of Oryx and the Rim gazeUe, but it scarcely seemed hkely that we should actually see any game under such conditions There was nothing for game to Hve on, though again during the afternoon we met with gazelle and Oryx droppings so often that we began to hope there might be fresh pastures at no great distance ahead. And certainly there was some im¬ provement m this respect, for we came upon strips of vege- tation where there was a little Abal and even some green Madh, to say nothing of occasional thin lines ofAndab, which may have been the outcome of the recent rain or of an isolated earlier shower. At intervals Suwid or one of the others would dismount to scrape away the surface sand bv way of testing the depth to which the moisture had pene- trated. On one occasion they found the sand quite wet at a epth of SIX inches, and we actually passed by a fair-sized hollow m which a regular pool had evidently been formed y he ram, though there was nothing now left of the water In another spot there had clearly been a shower oi hail or very large rain-drops, which had pitted the sandy surface over a considerable area. But stUl there was no si^ of any living thing, the record of the day’s march bemg only a single Desert Warbler and a butterfly in addition to the swallow. ^
enough of the marching and settled down to camp on the north side of one of the low Bani •Zaman ^dges The sky was then fairly clear overhead, while the clouds had been concentrated to the northward, whence came a steady though moderate breeze. The camels were
309
THE WATERLESS WASTE
fortunate enoiigli to find some green pasture in the iieigli- bourhood of the eamp, and I was able, for the first time since leaving Naifa, to get some star readings^ We liad eovered 40 miles during the day and had fully earned the all too short rest that Zayid was prepared to allow us. For we were in the saddle again before 2 a.m.j marching now under a dear starlit sky with a fresh, north-easterly breeze blowing across our path. They call it XasM from the constellation of the Great Bear, generally known to the Arabs as Banat al Xash}
We had struck a patch of frequent ridges, crossing no fewer than nine in the course of the three hours ending with our halt for the dawn prayer. SaHin, now no longer enjodng the keen sight of youth, was nonplussed by the darkness. Most of the time he wmlked by my side, leading Ms mount, for he could tell by the feel of the sand under Ms feet the direc¬ tion in wMch firm surfaces and easy summits were likely to l^e found. Once or twice he got rather badly involved in soft going and steep slopes, wMch spelled danger for our bulging water-skins. The camel, when left to Mmself, will plunge down such descents as if the devil were at Ms heels, and not seldom there were collisions between two or more animals plajdng that game at the same time. Fortunately our wuater- skins in the end suffered no damage, for Salim generally stayed beMnd at any particularly difficult slope either to lead down the more refractory animals with his own hand or to launch them on their descent one by one.
He soon tired and we halted somewhat earlier than usual to get the coffee and-tea ready before the time for prayers. It was a still, cloudless dawn with slight dampness in the air, and I seized the opportunity to get a little sleep wMle the others were busy at the fire. In such circumstance sleep comes easily and quickly, and it seemed but a moment later that I was woken by Suwid's call to prayer. Our breakfast consisted of dates with milk, tea and coffee, but I had con¬ sumed a good deal of the raw meat during our march in the dark. SO' there was none of that hungry feeling wMch had made the. days of our retreat so irksome. Besides that dif¬ ference everything seemed to be going very well. By this
^Meajimg “tile Bier.**
310
THE EMPTY QUARTER
time we had done about 95 miles or just about a quarter of our journey, and the fourth day was all practically to go.
Resuming our march just as the sim was coming up behind us, we were confronted by a gently-roUing down-tract, Tery bare and dead so far as vegetation was concerned but easy going. The vast ocean was streaked here and there with short runs of dunes in range formation, but in the daylight we were able to steer clear of them without losing ground. A Desert Warbler flew furtively from a thicket near our route to a safer distance, and I was surprised to see a kind of hawk which my companions identified as Abu Haqab, perhaps a Harrier. It is different, they explained, from the Saqr or falcon used in hawking, as also from the STiabbut or Sparrow-hawk. In all these tracts there were abundant signs of good recent rainfall, and I noticed curious little bubbles in the sand. We call them Abyar al Sultan, volunteered Salih, in our country. Sahm winked at me knowingly. He hes, he said ; we have no name for them. They are just holes in the sand formed by large ifrops of rain. The matter was perhaps of little moment and I kept an open mind, for the Manasir have httle curiosities of lore and language of which their neighbours might weU be Ignorant. On the other hand Sahh was a liar— undoubtedly 1 had had experience of that on several occasions but could not resent his manifest keenness to keep me suppHed with information about the great desert and its fringes. A curious trait of the Manasir is the important part played by women in their general scheme. I have aUuded to some such matters in earher^ pages. Men are frequently addressed by the names of their spouses, e.g. Ta sTiaugW /Mtowo— oh husband of So- and-bo ! In Najd one might know but would scarcely utter m pubhc the name of a friend’s wife unless she happened to be famous— or infamous !
It was curious that the exposed patches of gypseous or l>®d~rock, wliicli had been so conspicuous a feature o e southern part of the desert, had nowhere been en¬ countered during the days of our march from Haifa up to this
Welk oftheS^iltau. - pp. 77 and 81.
we now noweverj m a oisiaiice oi aoom iw Tom Naifa, came across and made a brief halt at a small
exposure about 100 yards long. It yielded nothing of parti¬ cular interest, though it seemed to lie in a marked valley- depression beyond which we plunged into a regular upland of disordered dunes. Suddenly and for no apparent reason the vegetation improved. The Abal bushes became more plentiful with a good show of fresh shoots ; and there was some Alqa, to say nothing of fresh Hadh. Lower your voices, growled Salim ; these folk never think as they march— -always chatter¬ ing and singing. There might be an Oryx about in such pas¬ ture as this, and he would be gone at the slightest sound. To judge by the frequent Httie heaps of dung-pehets this locality had been discovered and made use of by the Rim gazelles, but we saw nothing of them in passing.
At 10-30 a.m. we halted for less than an hour in a bare upland tract with some Abal and Hmlh for our camels to brow^se on. On the way had encountered some patches of difficult dune country, and had observed at a little ffistaiiee to the right another small patch of exposed rock at the base of a sand-ridge. Such exposures are generally termed Sk uqqa , and I asked Sahm whether he had ever heard of the KMraJm^ or glades in the sand of which I remembered having heard years before from Jabir, my Marri companion of an earlier journey. Salim seemed puzzled by the question. He had never heard the term, but Salih, who happened to be riding with us, volunteered some information on the subject which fitted in very well with the impression left in my mind by Jabir. They are like the SMqaq, he replied, and yet diSerent, for they are more extensive. Generally they are the salt-pans or basins at the tail of the Wadis that run into the sands from the Qara country in the south. We call them Kharimas 3*nd I have seen such about Muqshin, Salim looked sceptical for he had never heard of such things, but on tMs occasion bahh was^ right. Mr. Thomas ^ mentions these Eharatm, which he describes as a * skirting corridor,’ as a characteristic feature of the desert on the southern fringe of the great sands.
The sky was cloudless now, but conditions remained cool ^ Plural of KJwinmcu ^ See^ ArMa Fdixp p. 156.
312
the empty quarter
with a northerly breeze blowing over the sodden satiric n
course lay almost dead straight over a great undnlnf ' i ^
of parched and withered scrub, in the midst of which wf
ion, winch we searched in vain for sheUs and flints. capture of a couple of hzards produced a mild diversion K he way, and A1 Aqfa, perched on the back on one of thi baggage-camels for a rest during the heat of the day If.
lack of mtelhgence m making the best of what was, after aU I rather unusual privilege. Instead of lying at fuh lencrfl, the baggage and adjusting herself to its contours she i^sted on standing upright at the imminent risk of being precStated to the groimd by each lurch of the camel. cSng toihe ^e^en surface of saddle and baggage as it were by le tofs he was ^gaged throughout her ride in trying to teen a nre ’ canons balance and looked exceedingly uncomfortaWe though she was doubtless grateful for a brief respite from
carrymg her own weight over the rapidly heating sands He“
riding was^^ however, of brief duration for, as Ifentered t Mow vaUey with a good spread of fresh vegetation, a hare started^up from under our feet— the first we had seen in tbp Wh? ^ fortnight-and the dog, leaping recklessly
oroXXtSrC
neading the breathless quarry from noint tn T.™r,+ -I odged a,nd jinked before the jaws of death ^At firshit
that A1 Aqfa would secure theorize nd we climbed the ndge beyond the yalley leavinv^onlv Zayid in attendance to bri-no- fliA i - ® only
nefk pleasurable diversion Suwid had provoked
p^ls of laughter with a misadventure which resulted in h,s
men ne bad ventured without due circurnsneptinn ^tIip aa.d.covered fold, between lofty dynes are
concealed them. G< hidden da for such p at times le crest in p spection s] It was ra: through ti our wande such accid hero.
We now good deal them. Fr< ions deduc' that there four or five encourage ' the desert ^ rose. It is wilderness passing, thi to the dehg roam aboui We passe a ridge of t sand issuin repairs to ii the recent r loosening tl it out of do noticed alsc bird was no We soon ] bare plain f into Hadhai —we could out before
THE WATERLESS WASTE 313
concealed crevasses and it is just as weU not to step upon tliem. Generally there is nothing whatever to indicate the hidden danger, but the desert Arab has an uncanny instinct for such pitfalls and I often admired the sure judgment that at times led them up or across an apparently impossible dune- crest in preference to an easy-looking col which closer in¬ spection showed to be nothing but a deep mass of soft sand. It was rarely that any of them came to grief— and that through their own carelessness entirely —but in the course of our wanderings I had seen both Zayid and Salih laid low by such accidents as that of which Suwid was now the smiline hero.
We now rose into an upland, of dunes and ridges with, a good deal of Abal and Hadh in the narrow gullies between them. From the condition of the vegetation my compan¬ ions deduced — and who shall say that they were wrong ? — that there must have been a fall of rain here not more than four or five years before. Since then there had been nothing to encourage the tenderer plants until now, and now once more the desert had drunk deep to blossom in due course like the rose. It is indeed amazing to think, as I write of this dreary wilderness of narrow depressions some few months after our passing, that it is now probably covered with a pall of green, to the delight of the Oryx and gazelles and other beasts that roam about it unseen and unmolested.
We passed by yet another exposure of the bed-rock under a ridge of this upland, and near by we saw a gentle spray of sand issuing from the burrow of a skink engaged in urgent repairs to its dwelling, whose roof had probably collapsed in the recent rain. The little beast worked with frenzied energy, loosening the debris within with head and front feet to push it out of doors behind him with his vigorous hind legs. We noticed also the recent claw-tracks of a raven, though the bird was nowhere to be seen.
We soon passed out of the belt of fresh vegetation. A vast, bare plain formed the transition from the Bard Zainan tract into Hadhat al Hawaya, whose outermost line of dune-waves —we could see four of them, each about a mile long, spread out before us as we approached — foUowed the typical
314
THE EMPTY QUARTER
SW .-NE . orientation. The whole landscape looked rery deso¬ late and dead, as indeed it was. There was a good deal oiAbal and Hcidh, but all dead ; and those who had clamoured for a halt in the better pastures some way behind seemed to have been justified by the unfavourable turn of events against us. Let us press on, I said to Salim ; we may come to pastures ahead. But I saw Zayid speeding up from the rear. We had reached the third of the Hawaya ridges when he caught us up The afternoon is far spent, he suggested ; it is time we prayed. ^ you wish, I said meekly in accordance with my declared intention of leaving the ordering of our movements entirely to Zayid. So we off -saddled to settle down for the night and the camels went off in search of food. Around us the low ranges of dunes rode upon an ocean of gently swelling downs. Again we had done about 40 miles during the day. A third of our journey was accomplished in three full days and a bittock, while, with 120 miles behind us, we were now back again at about the meridian from which we had retreated only ten days or so earher. Then we were beaten and felt it ; now we were full of vigour and optimism, knowing that the real trouble lay ahead of us but conscious that we had stolen a long march on it without much effect on ourselves. The camels had not had the best of luck in the matter of pastures, but things might have been a good deal worse. We stiU had some meat and our water-supply was well on the right side of sufficiency thanks to the cool weather we had so far enjoyed.
A cool north-east breeze continued to fan us, and a clear sky gave me the opportunity of making more astronomical observations. But the event of the evening was the appear¬ ance of the new moon of Dhil Qa’da, the third and presumably last new moon of our wanderings, for the next, by the grace of God, should find us at Mecca. Hasan, sumamed ^ Wolf-face,’ ^tablished his claim to be the keenest-eyed of all our party. His range of vision was astonishing and he actually picked up the slender crescent before the sun had set. For some minutes we sought it in vain and then Zayid saw it a second or two before myself. Sa’dan was altogether left at the post and never saw the moon till the following night. His early up- brmging in an airless, windowless home at Majma’a had
}oii ana ne wonia oe DacK again witli. ms iittie wiie at ^cca-y but Ms thoughts often strayed in another direction, ith Ms earnings in my serrice he niiglit afld to his respon- )ilities5 and Bisha was renowned for its women. So tliey id and tMther we would be going, and Sa'dan was pensive ese days, pondering the pros and eons of bigamy.
It was a perfect night for sleeping under the stars— cool,
to account. The planet w’as bright enough to cast shadows but
of stars in the crystal mirrors of the rain-w^ashed sand We marched about ten miles in starHsht and halte^
of raw meat ivas nearly exhausted, but balim. and buwid seemed to have an inexhaustible supply wMch they pro¬
of 3d
rations, chewing them unobserved in the dark. Presumably the others also had secret stocks. At the halt I lay down to' sleep until prayer-time, after wMch we had our slender ration of dates, dipping them in butter or milk according to taste before consigning them to our mouths. I had taken sometime to develop this habit, so deep-seated in the Arabian character; but now all forms of food were grist to^ my mil. My com¬ panions squeezed their dates into cup-like receptacles, with wMch to ladle the liquid butter into their mouths, but that was more than I could stomach.
At dawn I found a sight dew upon the ground and on the hushes. The sun rose upon uS' from behind, disclosing a far- flung scene of long parallel NE.-SW. ridges with shallow valleys between them, averaging about a mle in width. The desert herbage was withered everywhere by the loi^ drought,
316
THE EMPTY QUARTER
which, was of 20 years’ standing in these parts. Hawaya extends northward to the gravel plain of Rala which begins half a day’s journey westward of Tuwairifa and merges into the great steppe of Abu Bahr, to which we would come in due course. The width of Rada from east to west is a journey of two days or about 50 miles. Occasionally we came upon thin lines of green Andab with scanty Alqa and Abal, but the Hadh was all dead.
An ancient raven’s nest in the branches of an Abal thicket told of better times long since, and we saw the fresh tracks of some desert mice, but the only living thing actually seen in that desolate waste was a lark. Far and wide the plain ex¬ tended around us, for all the world like a great sea with the occasional ruffle of a low, lazy wave. The breeze had veered round from north to south, a menacing gesture, and we braced ourselves to face the coming heat. The sun steadily asserted its undisputed sway in a cloudless sky. The storm was spent at last and the rest of our march would be grim enough. Yet everywhere the signs of recent rain — ^in one spot there had again been hail — spoke of blessings to come when we should be gone.
Wearily, as the morning advanced, we approached the western extremity of Hawaya ; and the long hne of the Shu- waikila dunes appeared before us, afar ojfl. A broad strip of very dry Sabat grass seemed to form a natural frontier be¬ tween the two tracts and we called a halt for lunch on the back of a low rounded ridge which proved to be the last rampart of Hawaya. On the whole we had found this northern part of Hawaya gentler in its undulations — and more like Bani Zainan- than it had been further south with its well-marked ridges and valleys and tumbled moraines. Here the valleys had generally been shallower and broader, while the dune- ranges had been lower and easier. Apart from occasional puffs of breeze from the south the air was very still, becoming hotter every moment. We spread a rug and mantles over a large thicket of Abal and huddled together in their shade, while the camels stood or sat about Hstlessly, too weary of the whole business to prospect for forage, of which there was obviously none to be found.
5 in due
trneyof
>on thin
le HadJi
thicket tracks of seen in lain ex- ^ith the . veered a»nd we steadily e storm oe grim -in one ;o come
led the he Shn- strip of tier he- he back ipart of part of ;e Bani marked valleys B dune- jasional icoming 5 over a shade, y of the 3re was
entry
outer
about
close
pressi Abal very i passes Pei
To face page 317.
311
THE WATERLESS WASTE
We dallied an liour OTer our dates, eotlee and tea. A lizard was captured and another eluded us, while a butterij tempted me to Tain exertion for a moment* Once more we moimted and marched, A derelict raTeiiA nest marked our entry into Shuw'aikila tliioiigli a gap in it> largo outer ridge, wdiose north-eastern extremity said to lie about half a days Journey to our right. A second ridge lav close behind the first and separated from it l3y a narrciw de¬ pression, in which we found another old raven A nest in an Abal bush. A cruel glare struck up into our eyes from the very fine light brown sand, and we seemed suddenly to have passed into another world.
Perhaps it was merely imagination, for the very name^ of this district in the deepest recesses of Rub* al Khali had con¬ jured up visions of disaster in the minds of my eompamons two months before, when I had casiiaily enquired of "Ali whether lie knew the tract. Mr. Thomas had shown it on his map on the strength of hearsay information, and ’AH had. looked at me quizzically as if wondering how on earth I could have any knowledge of things so remote. My com¬ panions now recalled the incident and laughed at. their old terror. We were now hardened veterans of travel in the Empty Quarter and the dreaded district was but another stage on the path that pointed homeward.
As a matter of fact the great bulk of the Shuwaikila tract lay to south and south-west of us. We had struck but a slender tongue of it extending north-eastward along the western fringe of Hawaya, separating it from another district of the desert which we could already see before us in the distance. Beyond a gently undulating plain of firm sand with some dry vegetation of Eadh and B(dMt lay a low barrier of dunes, and beyond that again as it were a glimpse of the sea, a firm dark blue line that thrilled us to the marrow. Wallah ! ejaculated Salim, it is Sahma ! the gravel plain that streaks the desert between the dunes. And there, beyond it, are the ranges of Al ’Awaiiq. It is
^ Said to "b© deiivod from the root ShaM, signifying likenew — ShaMla (dim. Shuwaikila) Hawaya, i.e. resemhling Hawaya ; but such Badawhi derivations are at best doubtful.
318
THE EMPTY QUARTER
aU even as I remember it for I came Mtber once in the year of the J^had—in modem Badawin parlance the ‘ holv war means Ibn Sa’ud’s victorious campaign against King Husam and has dynasty in 1924-5— when I was with a rai/ ing party and we came from the north. By God, I did nof think we shoTdd come to it in this journey unless perchance we might strike a southern tongue of it after crossing the Shuwaikilat, which I reckoned to be three days’ march across. And lo ! we have traversed it in less than two hou^s We have come up more to the northward than I reckoned' ihe Sahma thrusts out long thin tongues of gravel north and east mto the sands of Shuwaikila, which thus peter out against the plain in a ragged and untidy fringe and actuaUv spin over mto it in occasional isolated dunes or longer patches of the type known as Zvhara. The main plain, var^ng in width from two to five nfiles, and even more in some parts appears from the distance as a great lagoon extending from south-west to north-east and bordered by a range of dimes on either side— Shuwaikila to the east and south and ’Awariq on ^ ’ ^o^tinued further west by the ranges of Bani
Ma an(^ Topographicaly the plain is merely an eastward bulge of the vast Abu Bahr gravel steppe, and geologicaUy it forms a transition from the unbroken steppe to the contin¬ uous and ™terrupted sands, which begin with Shuwaikila
separates the Great
South Desert from the mountainous regions of Oman, Qara andHadramaut. As I was afterwards to see for myself the two sand-tracts of ’Awariq and Bani Ma’aridh are so frequently mterrupted by strips of Sahma-like character that the whole area may be regarded as a single geographical unit of gravel overlam m parts by dunes and sand-ridges, which wiU pre¬ sumably m course of the ages cover the whole area with a contmuous mantle. It is of course just possible that the reverse process of ^covering is in operation to expose what of Sahma, but on the whole it seems more ^eiy that the sands are increasing their depredations on
appears *0
mean streaked, and the name fits extraordinarily well.
^ of Shuwaikila,
Apart froia occasioBal puffs, whicli seemed tei f“ome m- discriminately from all the cardinal points in turn, tlie wind was in abeyance as we descended the last jreiitle siop^-'* i if Sliuwaikila and stepped upon gravel for tlie first time for about six weeks. The camels knew the difference at oiii:e and minced along gingerly, for the gravel was sharp and hot. Their soft feet suffered agonies, and the great aninials frcan time to time almost collapsed with a sudden biicklinc move¬ ment as they trod on something extra unpIea^a^lt. To add to our troubles the afternoon had turned piping liot under the naked sun. A Wagtail greeted us with its unfamiliar chirrup and fled from us with graceful dives, but it was the only sign of life in that waste scene. The only vegetation, if one may call it so, w'as Sabai grass, as dry as tinder and so close cn^pped by the desert winds that it wms scarcely visible ihough it tickled one’s bare feet like needle points set on end.
As soon as w^e reached the main Sahma strip and struck down the midst of it with the bordering sands on either side, I dismounted to examine and collect specimens of the gravel, which seemed in general to be very similar to that of the bare spaces in Jafura and about Maqainama. The pelibles indeed constitute a fairly complete sample of the igneous and other rocks of Western Arabia, and I have little doubt that all the pebble-strands of the central and eastern parts of the penin-
water, and we now know beyond all possibility oi doubt that great rivers flowed across this part of Arabia in ancient times at least as far as the longitude of Shanna and Bir Fadhil.
My interest in anything so ridiculously useless as gravel disturbed my companions, who felt no inclination, to stand by in the stifling heat. Abu Ja’sha, the proud possessor of the only umbrella in our party, rode past me apparently absorbed in the weary task of goading on the few animals that carried baggage but no rider. Othem, as they passed, looked at me
•pTsT!
320 the empty quarter
askance, wondering perhaps whether I exnected .
For the sake of peace I waved them all on and even tolSm to lead my camel on behind the rest for I would sonn them up. So I was left alone to discover to my woe tCtt was far from being such a simple matter as I hadLaled t had not troubled to extract my sandals from my saddle baJ and my bare feet felt absurdly tender on the hot gravel tnd arp stubble Far ahead the mirage glinted like a sea and the sun s heat made walking a serious business. I was’glad enough when I saw Sahm rein back to await me and felt that I had studied the gravel sufficiently when I remounted tn trad along after the now distant main body. Salim and I held on over the middle of the plain, while the rest gmdnaUv slanted across to the line of the ’Awariq dunes, which I
^ade I noticed among our distant companions the familiar movement which always presaged a decision to halt The staiffiy-movmg phalanx broke up at a trot, as each rider tW^ ^ smtable site for his night’s rest, and in a moment there was a couching of camels on the edge of the sands Sahm eyed them longingly with the though/of coffee doubt¬ less uppermost in his simple mind. I myself was tired and jeyr enough in aU comoience, but m/ watohM eye M
wingless desert Mantids m the gravel and I was loth to quit the plain
seldom ^ for I had seen the creature but
been
obZi Z J again and sent Sahm off with my
quarry ^ wandered about in search of my
Ha-rag met with moderate success in my quest I turned towards my companions and arrived in camper;
me mvUuTi T fbirsty. Sa’dan brought
riSTvti-M i’ o"* “ alone was not enough to
ffit A fi- ^ know that dur-
mg these days I have not insisted on having the milk of my
THE WATERLESS WASTE 321
cow as I used to have before, day and msht. With aU pro ™ions so short I have pooled it with the common stoS and we have all shared alike in evervthins except the 'wHer which I have eschewed. But now I am dvinc If thirst and I
mg It me here when the camels come in and he milk- them
matter with him qmetly lest our brethren be acarfeved Very good he replied, it shaU be done-it is nothing
hour later I summoned him from the camp-fire ~ What
liked, ^e . the camels are even now coming in from grazing. You shaU have the milk very soon. But another
half hour passed and still there was no sign of the milk 4nd dmner was shortly announced. I stroUed over to Join mv compamons for the meal and, there in the circle round the &e I saw two bowls of milk. I thought they all looked a tie sheepish but Abu Ja sha greeted me Jauntilv. Look I oh ^aikh ’AbduUah ! he cried, here is milk for vou. I have just imlked your cow. Drink, and may it refresh Vou ' There was clearly a chaUenge in his words, as if he said': Drink the one bowl yoimelf alone, while the rest of us share the other. And the challenge was deliberately made in public with the conmvance of the assembled company. I thank you I rephed calmly, but let our brethren drink of it. Their nwd IS greater than mine. They have toiled greatly to-day in the heat, and ^rchance they have been sparing of wateV for we have yet far to go. Ibn Jiluwi did indeed say that that camel s milk was for me alone, but what matter ? All these days we have shared it, and from now onwards it is yours alone. I wiU drink no milk until we reach SuMyil. I have sworn it, and from now onwards it is not lawful that I drink I might have dropped a bomb among them, such was the
completely turned upon their knavish tricks, and they knew that they had been beaten. They pressed me to change my imnd. Would you have me transgress an oath ? I asked ; is not that unlawful ? Abu Ja’sha swore vainly that he had but j'ust drawn the milk mid was on the point of bringing it
322 the empty QUARTER
over to me when dinner was announced. AU to no purpose In the circumstances the others could scarcely drink the un wanted stuff, and it stood over while we dined— our dinner being dates only with butter to dip them in. I made no farther aUusion to the incident, and Salih gaUantly created a diversion by announcing that the previous night he had been stung by a scorpion. He had probably done no more than tread on a spike or thorn, and there seemed to be no swelling of the foot or poisonous irritation. I went off, however, to fetch my bottle of iodine, and there by my bedside I found the bowl of milk ! Abu Ja’sha, I caUed out loudly that aU might hear, come hither ! What is this ? It is your bowl of he rephed ingratiatingly ; I put it there lest you might be thirsty in the night. Did you not hear what I said ? I asked ; would you have me break my oath ? Take it away and give it to our brethren that they may drink and, look
you! bring me no milk hereafter until we reach Sulaiyil. ’After
that I shaU keep my cow to myself, and I swear now that I shall not share a drop of her milk with any of you. Till then It is all yours. Drink it and welcome I But our brethren wiU not drhik, they say, he repHed, so what shaU I do with it ? Drink it yourself, I said, or give it to the dog, if you like, but take it away. Ostentatiously he called to the dog, and A1 Aqfa profited deservedly from our bickering. Sa’dan also, reproached for his privity in the night’s unfortunate incident and manfuUy admitting his responsibihty, took the oath upon hmsefr to dri^ no mfik these days, and I learned incident- ally that Su-wid had also forsworn milk some days before in consequence of a suggestion from one of the rest that he had swallowed, more than his due share of the common bowl. It was certainly interestmg to discover that, in the Badawin code, ^ oath taken in such circumstances is regarded as inmolable. The townsman is only honour-bound by the oath o mvcffce for, if he do the thing forsworn, his wife is auto- ma ica y divorced and, by the sacred law, he cannot remarry heruntd she has been wedded (and divorced) by another man. .^1, V “lidst of weU-grown Abal bushes on
the border-line between the ’Awariq dunes and the Sahma piam, which at this point was about three miles wide. North-
o
west^rd. one behind another and annan-ntlv «ei„r,,- from eaoh other by tongues of gravel, lav , he £ ve d,,',,. ,";i compoang the 'Awariq tract, to a depth of oh.,.,, lire mde,
and beiund them again were the low . -u-e .ctpu „
eight in number, of Bani Ma'aridh Our varying from WSW. to SSW., was designed to^avoll the'm: and downs of the sand-tracts by skirting .uontt the ed ^e r Sahma pa^t the echeloned southern extremities t-,f the virioi’ ndges or lines of dunes. To some extent the Is : St
isolated dunes, which m some places croB.sed the r»Iiin tn
along the fringe of Shuwaildla. Gcnerallv apeaking ho. eve the gravel m bordered on the eonth by th^ latter n-hife; Imr
rom the protrading tongues of hard plain forming bav.s anc estuanes m the sands, Sahma lies vdiollv .south of ' iwinV
and Eani hla’aridh. So far as I could gltm; Lt
Ik?®;?®? 'rith the great plain c'
Abu Bahr by a narrow corridor bett^ een Shutraikila and thf southern extremities of Bani Ma'aridh.
The fifth night of our journey found us about 17«i mile<
out from J^aif^satisfactory progress on the whole~bnt the
best part of 200 miles lay ahead of us and we could scarceh hope to do It in less than five or six days. Another 2tl march was therefore necessary and, in spite of a rathei fatigmng day of warmth and unrelieved sunshine, we were in the saddle again by 1.30 a.m. to march three hours in the dark. We rode on the gravel with the sands immediately to
^ incandes¬
cent effect produced by the conditions of night-marching in
this sand-country The dark silhouettes of our camels seemed to he surrounded by vague halos of light, and one could see b^es and the outlines of the dunes with astonishing clear-
the incident of the previous night our breakfast party was somewhat glum and the camels were not caUed upon to supply milk for anybody. Our fare was dates alone and only a mea^ ration of them, for we could not afford to
e too^optimistic in the rate of consumption of our sole means
ot sustenance. I had had raw meat to chew during the niffht-
324 THE EMPTY QUARTER
march, but there was nothing to indicate how much was left and I preferred to ask no questions. The Saluqi bitch liter¬ ally had nothing but our discarded date stones, which she picked up from the sand and swallowed whole. Ho doubt she was weU inured to such a diet, and the bowl of milk had been an unexpected godsend for her. Our camels were more or less stamng. But our only thought was to get on with our marching as quick as possible.
The sun rose from a flat ocean-hke horizon behind us soon after we had resumed, and it looked as if we were in for a gruelling day. Our animals suffered from the hard pebbles underfoot, but it was considered more expeditious to march on the gravel than to follow the undulations of the ’Awariq sands, which lay close on our right hand. There had evi¬ dently been no rain in this neighbourhood during the recent storm and the landscape was amazingly bare, though Salim hoped for better things ahead and chid some members of the party for singing as they marched. There might be gazelles or Oryx about which we would frighten away before reaching them ; or there might even be raiders or some hunting-party TOthin hearing. At the best, it seemed to me, these desert shanties are poor and barren things, the ebulhtions of empty souk engaged on a thankless task. Singing was their only antidote against boredom-singing and the jaunty anecdotes of which the retailer was generally the hero. In the dark the desert rule is against any uplifting of the voice for fear of foes, but in the Empty Quarter our men honoured it more in the breach than in the observance, while some of them con- tented themselves with an astonishing and unattractive falsetto. Ibn Ma’addi was the worst offender in this respect, but he w-as not an attractive character in any aspect and, to my infimte rehef, he generally preferred to lag along in the rear.^ A scion of the Subai’ tribe and native of Ranya, he had been attached to our expedition in view of our probable ret^ to civilisation by way of Wadi Dawasir. Salih also had a falsetto alternative to his customary bass, but in his case It was more or less innocuous and he did not resent being
mocked at for such lapses into effeminacy.
The Sahma plain had broadened out to about four miles
THE WATERLESS WASTE 32.5
now with numerous fingers extendina octopus-like into
northern sends, which in response'thrtw out k, , dor J tonnes of send across onr path. We croso-d a ini:e-.ri.jt
hma. after string across a considerahlc hoiie of sand
With a good sprinklinof of A6al Liislip-’ Wror '* 'i
a lark and recent tracks of a raven, wli:,h havi h.nVever decami^d from the scene, while a Httle farther .1-. the horns
fl up iiorth-ea>t for
fi dividing line between the
to th ^ westward marching was imperceptible
to the senses. A better speed-track than these vast plains of
n scarcely be conceived and I thou'dit with a
shudder, as I rode on, that perhaps some dav, aftei just sin-h rams as we had had, this .strange wilderne.; miv be vi.dtc J by motonng parties in search of gazeUes and ( Jryx ' So far as I cam form an opinion on the subject there is nothing but ack of water to prevent the penetration of motor cars into the very heart of the Empty Quarter down to about the nmeteenth parallel or perhaps further. But the sand-desert e^tward of Sahma will probably for ever remain inviolate It would be sheer insanity to involve oneself with a motor car m such a maze.
_ My companions alternately slept in their saddles and burst mto their dreary shanty-singing to reheve the monotony of the desert s dullness. During the early part of the momkig a south-easterly breeze fanned us from behind, cool and gentle, and the plain was dotted with pools of mirage. We began to grow weary and about 10-30 a.m. decided on a brief halt to rest ourselves and our camels. We came to a stop on a low protruding ridge of the ’Awariq sands with a few miserable bushes of Abal upon its slopes. My camel had been showing distressmg signs of thirst, and some of the others were in like case. They sat round us disconsolate, their ugly pessimistic fe-<^s seeming to regard the desolate scene with utter disdain. A few of them only straggled away in search of food, and I noticed that Za3rid was the most active of the party in round-
326
THE EMPTY QUARTER
ing up any animals that skewed, signs of going too far In suck circumstances a tkirsting camel mlgkt easily give one the slip in an attempt to return to water. Its ckance of success would be slender indeed, but tkat would be kttle consolation for an irretrievable loss, for we kad no more animals tkan we needed. Tke sun blazed down on us, and some of tke men clamoured to prolong tke kalt until tke noontide keat skould abate, but Zayid resisted tkem firmly. It was madness to waste time now. We were more tkan kalf-way across tke desert, kaving covered about 200 miles. We were about
as far from water as we could be — in any direction, _ and
tkere was at any rate notking to be koped for eitker from retreat or from tke diversion of our course to nortk or soutk Nowkere in all tke lengtk and breadtk of Arabia could om situation in relation to water be paralleled. Even elsewhere, for instance in tke Libyan desert and tke Sahara, suck a srtuation would be rarely encountered ; and tke only siinilar case of an outstandingly long journey between water- points which has since come to my notice is that of Roklfs who in 1874 travelled from tke Dakkila oasis to Siwa, a dis¬ tance of about 400 miles over waterless country, in 30 days. But he experienced tke blessing of a cloud-burst about a third of tke way across, which flooded tke desert and enabled tke traveller both to water kis camels and to replenish kis water-skins.
It is always difficult, and perhaps a little invidious, to com¬ pare achievements prima facie of similar character though necessarily conditioned by minor variations of time, season, place and circumstances in general. Nevertheless Roklfs’ journey affords so close a parallel to our own crossing of this waterless desert, and kis story (pubksked in German^ more ^an half a century ago) is so difficult of access to tke ordinary .mgmk reader, tkat a brief account of tke outstanding features of kis march, as compared with my own experiences, may not be altogether without interest at this point.
In tke first place kis journey was undertaken under tke authority and patronage of tke Khedive Isma’il Pasha just as
^ Dr&i M. onate> in der lihyschen Theodor Pischer at Cassel in 187
Wuste hy Gerhard 5.
Rohlfs, published by |
1]
marcli of 285 miles from the point he calls Regenfeld (where he had the rain) to Siwa was he more than 100 miles from the nearest water, wMle about (or rather less than) half-way through he was as near as 50 miles to the watering of Nasla. In utter hopelessness of outlook, therefore, our situation, with 375 miles between the water-points at start and finiah and the nearest water not nearer than about 180 or 190 miles at our central point, surpassed that of Rohlfs’ party. Quite apart from that however he carried so ample a provision of water
K/oMfs does not in fact mention tliat they' did, and on February 12t!i stated that the camels had last been * watered ’ 17 days l^fo're at Dakhils, but it is surely incredible that they should not have made the meet of such
328 the empty QUARTER
that at a point he calls Sandheim, where he halted for « wi, i day on Eebruary 12th, he was able to give aU hifoanr^^ ration of water ■ if not a ■ complete wltif .> ‘
thm done 17 since their tat regular watelg at DakS but oMy eight days since the copious rain, whik eivht later they arrived at Siwa. His camels thus did tLee watrlT periods of eight days each, while ours did the first abortive
Srile^” ®f“T -d boot to s
(280 miles) m nine days and the final march of 375 milest ten days on both occasions without water except em^lv rations for such animals as were in danger of coUapsf aS occasional snuffing ’ all round. ® ^ ^
His party seer^ to have lost as many as 20 camels durinff the venture although most of his Animals were n3 recrmted and qmte fresh at Dakhila, while we lost none t wj all om camels had done just two months of very strenuous
tmfavourable pasture conditions
moreover had to pick up what food they could get among the dead or moribund bushes of the Empty Quarter^while RoMfs’ ami^b carried fodder for themselves, wLh possT% at “ .
Hail Madinb^^®“ experienced old Badawhi leader, Haj] Madjub, who guaranteed the camels to last from 40 to
‘ tht7w^d r? any case thought
they would reach Siwa without being watered.’ My men^in
he known state of the desert pastures, certainly had no such
fT “to our so^niy wato
T, only three skins remained of the 24 with
members of to party that EohUs' erperieuce and mine con trasted most startlingly. We had Timio-lt+ v., 4- “nae con dates enffpfs cr,.! r+fi x nad nought but raw meat and
out ^ at Sulaiyil literaUy with-
^ tat ^y of his march an inspection of his
ev^v f ^as stfil enough of
rythmg for several days.’ At starting from Dakhila he had
IHE WATERLESS WASTE
320
noted that ‘ besides water, camel fodder and oniinarT‘ pm-
r^eX iriv to proenre ont of th^ stores
recently arnved from Smt, bacon, sausages, cheeses wine
chocolates and other luxuries, while one of the I ea.t.s carried
wonder that frs average days march was onlv 15 miles ( ] hi if the five days of halting be excluded from the reekonin'r^'ap compared ^th our 35 ! If his expedition wa. a better model
mor?i“^K-°''’c’^! claim to have faced a
more searching test of the desert's inhospitaMtv
tinn r" Oil for vegeta¬
tion than the Empty Quarter under the influence of along
bought, but there the difficulty is met by carrying fodder fof he animals, while in Arabia the camek must do the best thev can on what is provided by niggardly Xature or go starving. Therefore they must travel fast, and that is aiwavs the main considerataon in Arabian camel-lweeding. On another point ^rica and Arabia present a curious and interesting contra.st the Arab strongly preferring the female camel for his Journev- ing, while in the deserts of Eg^-pt and Libva onlv the male seems to be used for riding. In all our trail we hid but one male camel— and he was a gelding much to the disappoint¬ ment of an optimistic breeder in Sulaiyil, who turned up at our camp with a female from his herd in the hope of getting her covered by a bull of the renowned ’Umaniya strain.
To spur Ms fellows to action Zayid, who had done most of the coffee-making while the others slept wrapped in their m^tles, displayed great energy in loading up the baggage- ammals for the resumption of the march about noon. The country was now a veritable cbeq[uer-board of alternating patches of ^nd and gravel, over which we picked our way, gradually diverging from the main Sahma plain as we cut across the lower extremities of the ’Awariq rang^. The heat was now intense in spite of an occasional puff of south¬ erly breeze, and Salim as usual led the way with me, very drowsily. Suddenly we were awakened from our trance by
suppK^ were <m such a generous scale, indeed, tliat ‘several cwl of dates and bwomts ’ were jettisoned at Eegenfeld before the march
resum^ed. , ^ ^ , o
was
330 THE EMPTY QUARTER
as strange a sight as one could imagine in such surroundings There on our path, and crossing it from south to north, ran a double line of tracks of a female camel with her calf ! The traces were fresh enough, perhaps a day old but scarcely more, and Salim, electrified, swung round to study them with rapt attention, following them a little way with never a word Then, as suddenly, he resumed his march as if satisfied. Perhaps a hunting party, he muttered more to himself than me, with a milch-camel which has strayed from them or
maybe, raiders. Yet there were but the two tracks _ of
yesterday too or perchance the day before — and it is strange that they have not been followed up. We marched on a little seeking other tracks but saw none. Pity ’tis, said Salim, we cannot foUow up those animals. The youngster would be good meat, and the mother would give us milk. But they are gone far by now. They must have strayed from their party far hence, or we would have seen tracks of the searchers. The men have doubtless hastened back to Sulaiyil thirsting, or to Najranifthey be raiders. Probably raiders ! he grunted finally as if satisfied with his solution, and the cow was probably part of their booty. She strayed from them in the dark, seeking to return to her own folk. Look, she went north, probably to the Aflaj. Maybe the raiders whose smoke ’Ali smelt at Maqainama. Do you remember ? Thus he mused as he went, and his conclusions met with the ap¬ proval of Za3dd and the others, when they came up with us. And in fact his conclusions hit the mark almost exactly. At Sulaiyil and W adi Dawasir we were to hear in due course the whole story. Our friend, Jabir ibn Easl, had bethought him¬ self of a plan after we had left him with my box of fossils to convey to Hufuf. The money he had had for his trouble and hospitality would serve to provide him and his family with such necessaries and luxuries as might be purchased in the marts of the Hasa. So he had decided to go down alone with a couple of camels bearing himself and my box, while the woman should drive his herd of some 40 head to the Dahna pastures, perhaps 100 miles distant, and there await his return at a specified locality in the neighbourhood of Rijm al Shuwai’ar on the Riyadh-Hasa road. On the way
THE WATERLESS WASTE
381
the unfortunate woman had encountered a small party of brigands from Najran, whose camp-fire smoke had undoubt¬ edly been smelt from afar by ’Ali Jahman that night at Maqainama, and had been robbed of all the livestock of Ibn Fasl. The raiders, with the charming old-world courtesy of the road, had then left filve camels, including one or two weary animals of their own, for the woman to carry on with and had driven off the rest on their hasty return journey to Najran. The cow and calf, whose tracks w-e had encoun¬ tered, must have strayed from them and been abandoned as unworthy of a long search, which might have jeopardised their safe return against the double chance of pursuit and thirst. And, strangest of all, we heard later the almost incredible news that the strayed animal and her calf had actually returned to their lawdul owner, who had in due course arrived at the appointed rendezvous in the Dahna to find himself the victim at last of the stern fate that pursues the Arabian nomad all the days of his life even under the peaceful conditions of Wahhabi rule. It is true that Ibn Sa’ud has almost entirely eliminated the ancient pastime of raiding from the life-programme of his own subjects, but his vast dominions march with lengthy frontiers behind which weakness, misrule and anarchy continue to breed the prim¬ eval type of disturbers of the peace. Now and again, but not so commonly as in former times, these brigands violate the Wahhabi border-line ; and Najran has ever been a notorious offender, though by a curious coincidence a Wahhabi ex¬ peditionary force was actually deahng faithfully with that hot-bed of seditious unrest while this very gang of its tur¬ bulent citizens was pillaging the livestock of J abir ibn Fasl nearly a thousand miles away. Najran, after a bloody battle costing several hundreds of casualties, made its formal sub¬ mission to Ibn Sa’ud’s lieutenant, ELhalid ibn Luwai of Elhurma, during this same month of March. That was per¬ haps little consolation to Jabir in his tragic loss, and I was sorry to think that, incidentally and quite unwittingly, I had perhaps contributed to the disaster.
The exciting discovery of such tracks in a region so remote had served to divert our attention for an hour or so from the
332
THE EMPTY QUARTER
oppessive afternoon heat. AU day long harl living thing except a pair of Wheatears^in the neia-hh hood of onr mid-day camp. Death reigned snpremf tI scanty bushes were scorched and withered with h '
the.e.atuftofgreenstuEsurvivingmi3^^
by our camels as they passed, though they wLe almosft ^ t tasty to eat anything. A pile of whitened bones ata a n °° of horns, black and gracefully curved, betrayed the scene of a gazelle s last agony. We passed by the hole of a de<?Prt
TjSLat*^ ?r again ^withthe^'tal^e^
to dotut^:: rSatat^lt^on^i
noon, we had the satisfaction of passing out of th™^’
smely® snuff 'Znvom ^aidSahm; wemusf
more'^without waten W^wer^S^fa
Ws and the possibihty of a breakdown hadrbUn^^^^^
the something in hand. Retreat being wholly out of
the question, we were ourselves in harmony— no shghfmatter
mTi*l“ rwe^sKllmuX^
s?s T£;2ofir
to »bsorb. Perhai,, on any moisture
A single Wheatear seemed toba™
^ there some very oU gtlLtrl'C^tag ‘ there w« also something stUl more interes^iTfi
333
THE WATERLESS WASTE
ments of a complete ostrich-egg^ lying upon and half immersed in the sand. I gathered them up for my collection. There could be little doubt that the egg had hatched out in this very spotj and it was difficult enough to believe that that event had occurred at least 40 or 50 years ago. Yet Sahm and Suwid insisted that it must be so. Only the oldest men of the desert had seen the great bird alive in these parts when they went hunting with their fathers. To their successors the ostrich was but a myth from the dead past.
So we passed from the first valley across its bordering ridge into the second, at whose further edge along the third ridge of Bani Ma’aridh we came at length to rest in the midst of withered thickets of Abal. The long march in the heat with only a pot of tea at mid-day had exhausted me, and I lay down without ceremony to sleep in the lengthening shade of a dead bush. The sun was below the horizon when Sa’dan woke me with a pot of tea, and I felt refreshed enough to deal with astronomical observations and the other records which a traveller must keep. But I was beginning to wonder whether I could do another such day on my waterless regime with only a small allowance of dates and a steadily lessening quantity of raw meat to sustain me each day. With milk now cut out of my diet I reckoned that my total daily consumption of hquid amounted to five small pots of tea — perhaps four pints in the aggregate. When I joined my companions for our frugal dinner Zajzid held out a bowl of milk to me. Brink, said he, and think no more of what passed yesternight. I cannot do that, I rephed, with the oath upon me. But it is no matter. Brink ye, and I assure you that I bear no mahce . So they drank and were refreshed ; and the hatchet was buried between us. After dinner they dealt with the camels. Four of them were found to need a proper drink, including my gallant Nafriya. A skin and a half of water was poured out to them in an upturned sheepskin over-saddle, for we had brought no bucket. A kettle apiece sufficed for the rest, poured into the nose. I slept while they were at the doctoring and half an hour after midnight we were again in the saddle. My thermometer showed a tem-
^ See Appendix.
334
THE EMPTY QUARTER
perature of 72° at the time but it seemed quite chilly with a south-easterly wind. In the west a broad black band of clouds gathered as we marched in the dark, until at our halting before dawn half the sky was overcast. I slumbered as usual while they prepared coffee and tea, and woke with a start at the sound of the prayer-call. Have a care of A1 Aqfa, I said to my companions as we sat round the fire sipping our coffee for I saw her just now in a dream. I saw her standing at the top of a long, steep flight of steps, unable to descend. And there was a man behind her that pushed her, so that she fell headlong to the ground, lying in a crumpled heap with a broken leg. Perhaps to-day she will fall from the camel as she rides-— surely she hkes not such riding. But have a care lest we lose her. Eear not, they rephed reassuringly, she will not faU — God forbid ! But they apparently discussed the dream among themselves during the march. It is nothing, said Humaid to the others— he had the reputation of being a seer as weU as a poet — perchance Shaikh ’AbduUah will break his watch to-day, but God knows. The remark was not made in my hearing, but they were all aware of the tender
care I ever bestowed on the two precious chronometer-watches,
which I carried in a specially designed belt, always on my person. A calamity was indicated by my vision and there could scarcely be worse than an accident to either of them. We moved off again in the twilight over a bare sandy plain on the south side of the fifth ridge of Band Ma’aridh. The atmosphere was dehghtfully cool at this hour and heavy clouds were gathered over the north-western sky, while the two great stars of the Centaur — famiharly known to the desert Arabs as the Cavalier and Muleteer i— shone brilliantly in the clear south. The coffee and dates had put fresh life into the men, who chatted and even sang until SaMm, appar¬ ently grown nervous or perhaps stiU optimisticaUy consider¬ ing the chance of encountering an Oryx, protested snappily. By God’s face, he exclaimed, shame upon you that you sing in the dark ! Red ^ men, he added for my private ear, do not chatter in the dark— at night they keep quiet. But the others paid little heed to him, and only Abu Ja’sha rode 1 Khaiyal anA Zmnmdl. «The Arab’s equivalent for our ‘ white man.’
THE WATEELESS WASTE
335
silent. Ever since the milk incident he had comported himself like a whipped dog, and his nsual he-man effervescence was in abeyance. The sun, blood-red and woolly, climbed up into the sky behind us over the vast flat plain, in which the ridges seemed but gentle ripples on the surface. And almost with the first streaks of daylight we saw the marks of a full- grown bull Oryx on the sands. He had passed that way three or four days ago, going north.
The character of the surface was gradually undergoing a transformation, a mixture of sand and light gravel succeeding to the sandy valleys and ridges behind us. All this, said Sahm, is part of the great gravel plain, on which the sands are ever encroaching. After rain these plains soon become covered with herbs, but now, as you see, there is no sign of vegetation. Even the sand-slopes are bare and naked. There were a few dead Abal bushes in the far distance to our left, along a ridge. But here at least there were signs of recent rain, and Suwid scrabbled up the sand to gauge the depth of moisture.
At length we came to the last low ridge of Bani Ma’aridh, dotted very sparsely with dead Abal. From its crest we looked out on a dark immensity as of an ocean. It was the " father of the sea,’ the great gravel plain of Abu Bahr, pro¬ truding southward from the Summan steppe like a vast promontory of terra firma in the midst of the great sand- ocean. Vast and naked and flat it spread out before us to a sea-like horizon, with only an islet of dunes far out in its midst to the north-west to break its impressive monotony. Along its hither fringe to the furthest limits of our vision to south-west and north-east ran the low barrier of the Bani Ma’aridh sands. A raven swooped down from the empyrean to salute our passing, and a Wheatear took shelter in a distant thicket, as with an instinctive tremor of hesitation or excitement we launched out into the abomination of desolation, blissfully ignorant of its extent and little recking of the toilsome hours that lay before us until we should come to the thrice-welcome sands beyond.
Bani Ma’aridh, belying the suggestion of troublesome obstacles in its name, had proved to be an easy tract of firm
THE EMPTY QUARTER
336
sand lightly covering a gravel foundation, while the h«1f. dozen ridges that ran transversely across it at wide interval were lower and easier than anything in the area of tS! 8awaUb Abu Bahr on the other hand was wholly tnd simply true to its name~an ocean, unruffled, serene a^d mlent, without a mark of any kind to guide the traveller^ Sahm seemed almost reluctant to strike out on what appeared to me the obvious course and for a while steered almost due south-west, hugging as it were the shore of Bani Ma’aridl. with Its scattered Abal bushes rather than risk the unreheved wilderness that stretched out to the westward. It was thS just 7 a.m., and he was possibly thinking a few hours ahead to om usual halt for coffee, when we should need fuel It would be time enough to strike across after that important function. Yet he was uncomfortable about the matter, as I could see from his constant shading of his eyes to scan the hopeless honzon. Our water-supply was the supreme factor to be considered, and by going far out of our course we were merely increasing the total distance to be traversed I argued therefore in favour of the direct course, and he
een here before and I do not know how wide is Abu Bahr ^ It we shall ^d no fuel and we shall not reach the RumaUa
^ffee ? But perchance, if God wills, it is not so far as that, y eyes see not so far as yours, so look out for the dune- nge which should he somewhere before us. I have heard men say that one may see the sands from afar off as one
so fitter
u ^ ‘"'tossed it going from Maqainama to woffl^ ahead-you
Id w f ^ ? I strained my eyes
tfon ToT . changed fe-
tion to the west, and from that moment there was no
If ^0 only
^Th^! “ day, he would
co^L at . ^ had tea and
coffee at 5 a.m. and we should have no more tiU the morrow
half, intervals the true % and ®ne and raveller. appeared lost due 'la’aridh J^elieved k^as then ahead -uel. It iportant ter, as I ican the 6 factor we were sed. I and he e never a Bahr. ^umaila for our IS that.
3 dune- 3 heard as one further ima to i— you ly eyes [ direc- i^as no bdonly would t dead 3a and lorrow
28. A HALT IN THE VAST GRAVEL PLAIN OF ABU BAHR.
at 8 a.! supreme Baiir re It was i they sii ancient venture From Salim, 2 the line Rumaih lies Rai( undulat longatio beyond tion Sal entirely accomp^ to a disi eastwar from A1 called 1 Bard Fuqar, Karsh a intricat6 type. S Jidda, ^ Qa’amy Thus, approac’ desert, of fantai hour or and sou inevitab trials of about 1] round tc y
337
THE WATERLESS WASTE
at 8 a.m. Twenty-seven honrs without coffee ! That was a rapreme test of Arab virtue, and our great march across Abu Bahr revealed both the Arab and his camel at their very best. It was indeed a stupendous performance, just such a feat as they sing of in their ballads and vaunt in the epics of their ancient chivalry. It was the crowning glory of our whole ad¬ venture, though a crown of thorns very painful in the making.
Erom the southern limits of the Summan, according to Salim, Abu Bahr extends for some 150 miles southward to the line where the curved horns of Bani Ma’aridh and Rumaila join to cut it off. Beyond these again to the south hes Raida, apparently a tract of hght sand or gravel, with the undulating sand-downs of A1 Qaunis to the east and a pro¬ longation of the ’Awariq dune-ranges to the south. And beyond that again lies Karsh al Ba’ir, regarding whose posi¬ tion Salim was studiously vague, for his knowledge was based entirely on hearsay evidence. Suwid, however, had once accompanied an Oryx-hunting expedition which penetrated to a distance of six days’ journey (perhaps 150 miles) south¬ eastward from Sulaiyil. According to him the transition from Al Qaums to Bani Ma’aridh is effected by a sand-strip, called Al Dhuhur, of four parallel dune-ranges. Beyond Bani Ma’aridh he came to a tract of sandy downs named Al Fuqar, and after that he crossed the ’Awariq dunes to Karsh al Ba’ir (or Hawaya Ba’ir), which he described as an intricate maze of irregular dunes, apparently of the moraine Southward of those sands lies the bare gravel plain of Jilida, which presumably extends to the lofty dunes of Qa’amijat.
Thus, as we marched on, I tried to puzzle out something approaching a reasonable topographical scheme of the great desert. The line of Bani Ma’aridh receded steadily in a haze of fantastic hummocks floating on a vast mirage, and for an hour or two a hght breeze fanned us fitfully from the east and south-east. But the sun worked up steadily to the inevitable chmax and we decided to brace our nerves for the trials of the afternoon with a brief halt of less than an hour about 1 1 a.m. My companions slaked their thirst and we sat round to a meal of dates with butter to flavour them, while
338
THE EMPTY QUARTER
some of the camels were ^ snuffed ’ to cool their heads before the day’s heat had reached its worst. Suwid took the water into his mouth and blew it into the nostrils of his steed while the only kettle was being used elsewhere for the same purpose. It was indeed a strange scene — that bevy of camels and men at rest in the midst of the featureless wilderness with never a dry blade of grass or stick of fuel to vary its barren gravel, stretching out to the horizon on every side. I collected an assortment of its pebbles before we remounted and cast about in vain for desert Mantids or other creeping things. The world around us was dead.
An hour later we saw the distant shimmer of sands and thought we might be approaching Rumaila, but were dis¬ appointed. It was but an isolated dune-group piled up on the gravel. Afar off a dust-devil rose some 20 feet into the air and, curhng its tail upward, disappeared as suddenly as it had formed. The sun blazed down on us and my com¬ panions drowsily dozed as they went — a relief denied to me by lack of experience. Salim dozed with the rest, waking up every now and then with a grunt indicating the desired direction. I wondered how in such circumstances, half asleep and with nothing to guide him, he could keep any« direction at all, but I checked his course frequently with the compass only to be amazed at his accurate piloting. I asked him how he managed it and he simply did not know. There is perhaps an instinctive sense of direction in the men and animals of the desert controlled by a sub -conscious percep¬ tion of the motion of the sun and stars. Sahm never had any but the vaguest idea of the time as such — an hour simply meant nothing to him — ^but he never seemed to be at a loss for direction, at any rate if the sky was clear.
We had reached the worst patch of the afternoon, the dismal hours between 1 and 3 p.m. Having had no sip of liquid since 5 a.m. I was beginning to feel thirsty. The pro¬ spect of tea seemed very remote as we marched into the mirage now gradually shifting to our front, and I began to wonder how much longer I could hold out against the inward craving for water. Eor a while I kept it at bay by eating the few onions I had reserved for such a crisis, and when they
339
THE WATERLESS WASTE
were done I resorted to sucking peppermints , of wMcli during these days I always carried a small supply in my pocket. But for some reason the remedy would not work and I seemed to be thirstier than before. They had offered me water when we had halted and I had refused it with disdain, but now I felt myself on the verge of asking for it. Yet I resisted and marched on wrestling with myself— but only for a while. At 2.30 p.m. Salim drew rein and dismounted to drink. I am thirsty, he said, and do you too drink now. The sun is hot and the water in my skin is cool. I had dis¬ mounted, if only for a few moments’ relief from riding in the sultry afternoon heat. He held the bowl towards me and the temptation was too great. I sat on the ground and drank the stuff — tepid and of a dark brown colour — till I had drained the bowl and arose refreshed to resume my riding. It was my first cool drink since Yaifa, now about 250 miles behind us, and I wasted no regrets on the collapse of my waterless penance. The desert had defeated me and hence¬ forth I could drink freely without compunction.
We pushed on again after so welcome a respite and it was not long before I began to feel irrepressibly drowsy. Whether it was merely the natural result of a series of short nights or the afternoon heat or the w^ater I cannot say, but I was scarcely able to hold myself upright in the saddle when a further welcome respite from the gruelling struggle came with a halt for the afternoon prayer at 4 p.m. I improved the occasion with another drink, which brought with it the reahsation that travel had done nothing to deaden the potency of Naifa water. Tea had hitherto served to counter¬ act its normal effect, but now the sense of fatigue returned which I had experienced during the four days of our sojourn at the source. Nevertheless we had now been marching with but httle rest since midnight and that may have accounted for my weariness, at least in part. Marching now into the sinking sun was as trying an ordeal as one could well imagine. Yet there was no sign among my companions of the custo¬ mary search for a spot to camp in. Zayid seemed indeed to be inspired suddenly with the energy of a devil incarnate. He sprang into the lead when the march began to flag and
340
THE EMPTY QUARTER
chattered incessantly to those who rode with him, telHn them tales of his own experiences and achievements in many a raid, tales of long marches and lean days on the desert borders of Oman and tales of hospitality in desert booths of the great Shaikhs with the coffee and the meat that make glad the heart of man. The weary camels seemed somehow to respond automatically to the new mood that had settled on the men. The dreary drag changed suddenly to a race with time during those last two hours before sunset. Never in all my experience have I seen men drive and camels march as they drove and marched that day while there remained hght to bring them to camp and fodder and fuel before night¬ fall. But the sun went down with never a sign of the welcoming sands beyond the eternal gravel. And stiU we went on.
We halted for the sunset prayer, and, absolutely deadbeat
heaved a sigh of relief that at last our labours were over for the day. But I was mistaken, for no sooner had we got through the service and partaken of another drink of water an round, than Zayid gave the order to mount and continue the march. I was too weary to protest or argue, and followed suit meekly enough. To camp where we were would have been to renounce all hope of coffee for the night, and that was more than my companions could stomach. On the other hand we had during the half hour before sunset seen frequent traces of ancient camel-paths, scored in the gravel plain and datmg back many years to the epoch of rain and pastures that had preceded the twenty years’ drought. In those days the ^rabs had brought out their grazing camels as far as this into the desert, the animals needing no water for long periods and the men existing on their milk. It was, therefore, a reasonable inference that there could not be much more left of the gravel plain and that, perhaps, a short march would
rmg us to the sands, where we could certainly hope to find dead bushes to make a fire withal. So we not only marched but actuaUy qmckened our pace from a steady walk to a
slow trot of something like five miles an hour.
Eve:^here now we saw abundant evidences of the recent ram, of which we had indeed met with some slender indica-
341
THE WATERLESS WASTE
tions far out in the midst of Abu Babr. There was too an almost imperceptible rippling of the plain, whose shallow furrows seemed to have flowed abundantly with water quite recently. It was certainly a welcome sign of some more definite change ahead and, as the darkness finally descended upon us, I had the impression that the whole surface of the desert was progressively becoming more undulating and, to some slight extent, even streaked with thin Lines of sand. I looked to see the time and discovered to my dismay that my wrist-watch was missing ! Rapidly we held a council of war to consider so serious a casualty, and I suggested that two members of the party should go back on our tracks to seek the watch. They could not have far to go in any case, as I had noted the time of our starting after the halt at sunset, but I could not go on without the watch. Their going back would save time as we could go on, leaving them to foUow. Otherwise I must insist on camping for the night. But wait ! I added, let me search my saddle-bag— it held a good deal of my equipment and bulged rather widely at the mouth — lest the watch may have dropped into it from my wrist. And lo and behold ! there I actually found it intact except for the strap, which had given way under the strain of long wearing. Then there was general rejoicing, and they told me of Humaid’s interpretation of my dream.
We continued the march, stiU trotting and walking in tiums. And on and on we went, scarcely seeing an5rfching but the ground immediately under our feet, seemingly a rolling plain with appreciable depressions though with never a sign of anything that looked like bushes or herbage. We might indeed have passed quite close to such things without observing them in the darkness for, to make the gloom more impressive, heavy storm-clouds rolled up across the sky from the north-east. After the heat of the day such coolth was indeed welcome, and a few drops of rain raised hopes of ^fEerent conditions on the morrow. Meanwhile the one idea in the minds of Zayid and his fellows was coffee, while I could think of nothing but the urgent need of sleep. After all most of them had slept or dozed in the saddle all through that strenuous day, while their need of refreshment was no
342 THE EMPTY QUARTER
greater than mine. If I could do without that, they surely could ; and the moment was rapidly approaching when I could no longer keep awake in the saddle, while the camels driven on by Zayid as if the fiend himself was behind them and responding nobly to the heel, were almost at the end of their powers of endurance. Furthermore there was not the slightest hope of fodder even if we came to fuel.
About 9 p.m. I sounded Salim and Humaid and was not less surprised than pleased to find them in agreement with my view, that it was useless seeking fuel in that darkness without any idea whatever of its whereabouts or distance. Like that we might go on all night without success, and our last state would be worse than our first. Let us rest the night and sleep, I said, for even the hungry camels will be better to-morrow for a rest now. Yes, added Abu Ja’sha, and the camels are dead, but Zayid drives on as you see. Look you, I said, I can go on no more without sleep. If any of you know of fuel within five minutes or ten, let him lead on. Otherwise I will halt here and you may do as you will. So, with considerable relief I thought, the cry went up that Shaikh ’Abdullah was weary and would halt. Back from the front came sounds of voluble cursing and Zayid reined up to protest at the foUy of halting. It is but folly, I rejoined very curtly as I tapped Na’riya to her knees, it is but foUy to march on blindly you know not whither. I march no more, and here I sleep. You are the Amir and can please yourself. There may be fuel near or far, within five minutes or five hours. Seek it out as you please and I will come to you when you have found it. I can foUow your tracks in the daylight to-morrow, but I can sit on a camel no more.
So with a muttered curse Zayid yielded, and the unfor¬ tunate camels came to rest at 9.16 p.m, after a forced and furious march that had begun soon after midnight. Out of the 21 hours they had actually marched 18 allowing for the occasional short halts we had enjoyed, and the distance we had covered in the time was about 70 miles. The wretched animals just stretched out their necks on the cool sand and remained motionless, while we unloaded the gear and spread our beds on the desert for a well-earned rest.
343
THE WATERLESS WASTE
Sa’dan brought me a bowl of water and a lump of dates for supper — it was all we had, and the camels could not be milked after such a day. But stay, I said to Sa’dan, there are two tins of fruit in my saddle-bag. Bring me one of them and lend me your knife. I had carried these two tins with me from Mecca to Hufuf, from Hufuf to the Empty Quarter, resolved not to broach them except in a crisis. And now was certainly the right moment for one of them. Yet a tin of peaches would be a mere drop in the ocean amongst eleven of us, so I shared it with Sa’dan alone to flatter my conscience. The fruit and juice were lukewarm with the day’s heating, but delicious ; and I lay down to sleep as I had never slept before, while the clouds gathered about us with the music of distant thunder.
At last we had broken the back of the desert, which had so nearly broken ours in the dismal days of our retreat from Hawaya and again during the last two days. We had had to fight hard, and we had won through with a final effort that had strained us almost to the breaking-point. But we had won through, and there remained but a hundred miles or so to the watering. In six full days of marching since we rode out of Naifa we had covered 270 miles under conditions almost ideally unfavourable in the matter of pasture — maintaining an average of over 40 miles a day, which would be reckoned good going in easier cfrcumstances. We had certainly had three cool days to start with, but the three that had followed had more than balanced that advantage, and we had every reason to be content with our performance. And the camels that had crossed Abu Bahr at its hottest and done 48 hours without a scrap of food had not come fresh to that ordeal. They had already travelled for two whole months in the leanest of deserts almost without respite. None but the best camels could have come through such a trial, and ours were certainly as good animals as any in all Arabia,
My companions were astir betimes next morning (March 12th), clamouring for coffee. A leaden sky with storm-clouds to north and north-east greeted my awakening, and we were soon on the move in the twilight gloaming. The air was
344
THE EMPTY QUARTER
damp and clammy about us and the north-east wind whici, ^d blown throughout the night, chilled us as we mlrchlt We were stiU in the gravel plain of Abu Bahr no L however a dead flat wilderness, but rather a low gentlv umi latmg steppe, bare and desolate with streaks of sfnd ISre
monotony of gravel. We had scarcely been marching ten minutes when we came upon a strip of w4erS Hadh bushes, which would have given us coffee the prevSm mght had we marched but a little further. Now however
on yet a bit that, perchance, we may And fodder^ for tL cameR as weU as fuel for our coffee"^ So we S£d on
fee * !w f »*. eome 20
flMd ^ ““ '‘SM of e recent
Beyond them we came to a light spread of sanri +>,.+
Srln Rumaila, whL
fet range of dunes lay upon our right hand, while the gravel r imdulating, dotted with
sand. Ih^l SeSy w'e' cSS^!^ f"""
past them. Their hunger was terrible to watch and we nave
f-pfipTra ' oflE on Iier own, searching hungrily for
eepSZ t:?ftolTe‘“„'Zr‘'Zl“' ^
■“dXirf4rt'’S?
dry tufte of ™
345
THE WATERLESS WASTE
Tlie valley beyond the first dune-range contained a con¬ siderable area of exposed rock, a gre3dsb calcareous material. We passed by a small patch naturally hollowed out to form ■a pond, now dry though ,it appeared to have held water quite recently. Near by we found a thin line of green Andab, which the camels cropped to the ground as they passed. And we saw a pair of Chats and a desert lark as we crossed the second dune-wave into a wide plain, where a halt was called in the midst of a profusion of dead Hadh, The camels sat disconsolately around us or wandered about in vain search of fodder, while we settled down to the main business of the morning — the making of coffee and tea, which in due course we consumed with a meagre ration of dates. How com¬ forting was that meal — ^the tea and coffee after 27 hours of forced abstinence ! And there was milk too for those who had not forsworn it. The north-east wind grew stronger as we dallied over our breakfasting — for Salih, having upset a pot of coffee on the fire in a laudable effort to make a second brew to eke out the first, had insisted on beginning all over again — and by the time w^e were ready to resume our march the sand was sweeping along the plain before it in long wisps which covered the countryside with a veil of haze.
It was pleasant riding like that over rolling downs of sand after the flat gravel of yesterday. A sense of well-being pervaded us after the refreshments of which we had just partaken, and the sun filtered but faintly through the light clouds which raced upon the earth before us in alternate bands of light and shade. Here too the recent rains had had time to coax life out of the dead wilderness. Tiny heads of green heralded the birth of desert plants, the succulent Halam and the Sa^ dan, whose discarded burrs of past seasons strewed the sandy floor and stuck to the soft pads of the camels. They stamped petulantly as they went, to rid them¬ selves of the irritating limpets, and every now and then we stopped to clear their feet of the spikes, counting on one occasion no fewer than 18 burrs on a single pad of my camel, Na’riya. The short thorns of the small circular discs cannot penetrate far enough into the gristle to do harm, but
346
THE EMPTY QUARTER
the imtation is intense, as I had reason to know when T walked barefoot upon tbe sands. ^
Little piles of camel droppings, judged to be a month old r so and half-buned in the sand, which had entirely obliter¬ ated the tracks of the animals responsible for them started my compamons on a lively argument as to their significance At intervals they continued until we came to the spot where the party had evidently camped on its way and we could orm a rough estimate of its numbers— some eight or nine ammals perhaps. Doubtless a raiding party, and perhan<! the one whose camp-fire smoke we had smelt at MaqSnama though at the time we could not teU whether we were on theh outward or homeward route. Or perhaps the party which had lost the camel and calf whose tracks we had crLed in
agreed. The dung was even as the dung of our animah camels of the desert marching through poor pastures. Rone but raiders would ruarcli tlius.
^ Our westerly course carried us diagonaUy across the valleys and waves of Rumaila untfi at noon we halted again on Its western fringe to collect fuel from the dead bufhes
la dunes. Beyond
® lovr, undulating tract of Qaunis, where no
learned ^ encountered, while we had at least
learned from Abu Bahr the foUy of entering upon such an area vuthout some provision against adversity.^ We had
previous ou^ ^ march this day, after the exertions of the
to cTesTft, no more than an attempt
tbe «+ ^ r reasonably early halt in
the steppe of A1 Jidda beyond for a good night’s rest.
found to be sufficient to justify
SStfof subjected to the
of fi^em was declared to be ‘ snuffing ’ was pre-
Sme anc-^'T of wizardry, doubtless a survival from
E ZT^f paganism of Arabia,
intended frl required to spit into the bowl of water intended for the sufferer, and the strange medicine was {P ilfandW)_i.e., looked upon
poured ini her firmlj successful symptoms pardons a] departed ' doctors tl always el and like t] the assem a second t with mon< would he ( he would pour agai; thing wou it become the distril of desert all-round mine ! A pot to th( contest. : out of, bu the rack leaps up c On ent^ lay about Salim, we very bare a few hza saw a loc sand. Bui the past, embers of comes son the desert in search north, bu
THE WATERLESS WASTE
347
poured into her resisting nostrils, while half a dozen men held her firmly down for the operation, which was, apparently successfully, performed by Suwid. What the preceding symptoms had been I omitted to ascertain, but my com¬ panions appeared to be satisfied that the evil spirit had duly departed out of the beast. Perhaps it had entered into the doctors themselves, who now fell to quarrelling about the always elaborate ceremonial of their coffee-serving. Like and like the presiding genius of the occasion pours around to the assembled company, to each man a cup — once round and a second time, but each time missing out himself. And then with monotonous regularity begins the comedy. A third cup would be offered to the man on the pourer’s right. ’Tis yours, he would say, and the pourer would drink. He would then pour again to him who had waived the cup, and the same thing would happen with the next in order and the next, until it becomes a matter of gauging how each man had fared in the distribution. And then begin the quarrels and argument of desert courtesy, generally culminating in a deadlock of all-round self-denial. ’Tis yours, no, yours, but never ’tis mine ! And immemorial custom leaves the last dregs in the pot to the pourer himself, who generally fares worst in the contest. It is little enough in all conscience to pick a quarrel out of, but the httle is enough when nerves are stretched on the rack by desert travel. A careless word, and the flame leaps up out of smouldering embers.
On entering the Qaunis downs, whose northern extremity lay about ten miles to northward of our course according to Salim, we changed direction to the north-west. It was aU very bare with a httle Sahat stubble, but we had sport with a few hzards and for the first time in the waterless desert I saw a locust, a single insect only and that dead upon the sand. But here there was ample evidence of better days in the past, the droppings of grazing camels and scattered embers of deserted camp-fires. Hither, said Salim, the Oryx comes sometimes but rarely, though the Rim is plentiful when the desert blossoms after rain. Now they are all gone far off in search of pastures. We would find them perhaps to the north, but here, as you see, there has been no rain for years
348 the empty quarter
until this month. Yet see how the Sa’dan is sprouting « where. There was indeed a sheen of delicate ^
gentle slopes and Suwid, with constant and, found an average depth of two or three fep+ f moisture left by the recent rainfaU ^
backed by the distant coast of the Tuwaiq barrier ‘ tL 2^table desert = was at last behind us, and\i^ eyes rested
fnlrl borders of the sown. Somewhere in the
folds of the great upland before us lay our destinatit
isSd Moi®rAbra^®bnirr T" the
15 n *“4 somewhere m the desert- aS
16 or 20 mdes from it, they remembered to haye drawn w.to
S ^to* Te? ^ “““ *“'>
great rock depression known as Makiniva At tlr«t
ss fem s:
lieved gradually we passed into an unre-
Sar^of™. 1- “ of oolour and aU
out lom the ^ flat-topped hiUocks stood
line ^®^d tl^o of an old
the north ®®’“®o ahead from
horizon of the rti t^°^ ‘^®®®^ t° *^1© bazy
marched on befirthe^^^f^h rejoiced as we
different it all tT f How
torments of heat and Tir ’^® ©'“flered
h.A v t - and thirst and uncertainty ' The very sky
“-l soone ahead, fa aU
Tuwaiq is our ^^® ^®“® of Verily
lay in a fold of th' o^olaimed Sa’dan, whose own home mflerto upland barrier, some hundreds of
^ m y’ yeSyTuwaiq is our father, as the Dahna
1 a a arsha j also sometimes oaUed Hidbat al Farsha.
THE WATERLESS WASTE
349
is our motlier. Laud to the Lord, that we see it again, coming from the empty world behind us. And to-morrow, maybe, if God wills, we may look again on the faces of men. Ay, and women too, for there may be damsels at Sulaiyil for us to wed. His thoughts were ever of his little wife at Mecca and of other women whom he might in due course introduce to the bliss of his minute menage in the Ma’abida quarter.
We had taken things easily enough during the day and settled down in camp for the night soon after 5 p.m. after a total march of about 25 miles. To the southward at a distance of some eight or ten miles the long ridge of Mushai- mikh stood out prominently in the scene. Behind us the Qaunis sands lined the horizon with its long coast. Else¬ where there was nothing but the dark steppe stretching back to the rolling uplands, its broad bosom swelling up here and there to little paps. The sun set, the storm-clouds rolled up again from west and north, and ive rested from our labours. There was a surprise in store for me when they summoned me to dinner, for Salih had cooked a dish of rice to celebrate the occasion. Very good it was too after the long and meagre monotony of dates and raw meat, for Salim’s stock of the latter seemed inexhaustible and he had given me some during the day’s march with the information that there was still a little left for the morrow. Whether the meat rations of the rest had held out in similar fashion I never inquired, but it was surprising indeed that there should be anything left to eat of the animal we had slain eleven days before. After dinner I attended to my theodolite observations with Sa’ dan’s assistance as usual, and then in privacy we shared the contents of the second and last tin of peaches before com¬ posing ourselves for the night’s sleep.
A fresh east wind, with a httle northing in it, blew through¬ out the night, which was deliciously cool though the tem¬ perature never fell below 72°. And the sky was heavily clouded oyer at 11-30 p.m., when Zayid disturbed the peace and slumbers of the camp wdth an ill-judged attempt to get us on the move again ahead of our usual time. Fortunately I looked at my watch when he roused me, and he retired dis¬ gruntled and grumbling at my obstinacy. He would have
360 THE EMPTY QUARTER
liked to make Sulaiyil by the following afternoon, but I saw no point at this stage in making a forced night-march which, would deprive me of the pleasure of seeing the country bv daylight. So it was not till two hours later that we were again on the move, and then it was so dark under the heavy clouds that obscured the sky and stars that we could not see more than a few yards in any direction, and Salim seemed unable to steer a course. At least my compass showed that we were heading north-west, while our bearing during the later part of the previous afternoon’s march had been, practi¬ cally due west. Salim, in answer to my question, admitted that we should he on the same point as then and abruptly changed direction, asking me to do the piloting on that course by my compass as he was unable to steer in the dark¬ ness with neither stars nor landmarks to guide him. The others, recalled from their course, broke forth into oaths and execrations on the error of our ways, and I treated them to a discotuse^ on the virtues of the compass, while we pursued our line in complete disregard of their protests. They re¬ mained sceptical but followed in our wake, discoursing loudly among themselves on the folly of trusting to instru¬ ments and other new-fangled things when a sense of direc¬ tion was all that was needed to guide one aright. You may be right, I said, but Salim says we should march on the same line as we were following in the afternoon tiU we camped at sunset, and that is the line we are now on. But tell me, I asked, where is the great star— I referred to the planet Jupiter— which has gone before us each day of this night¬ marching ? They pointed without hesitation to the north- west, the direction which they had been following when re- caUed. Hot so, said I, it is straight ahead of us behind the clouds, but God knows best. There was no convincing them and Sahm put his childish trust in me. So we marched on at the best pace possible in the dark, while the unfortunate camels floundered about painfuUy on the sharp rocks of the f ^ sudden there was a break in the clouds
ahead of us, and the great planet shone straight down in our
’ 'n raptures of delight : Oh, Shaikh
Abdullah, tis you have guided us this night, not I, you and
352
THE EMPTY QUARTER
then at last he had gone before us in these last night-inarchp« m the waterless desert with the Sickle above and belSidlt until this last night when he appeared alone for an ? smiling through the clouds to vindicate my guiding As^^ ’ hght of the false dawn showed behind ou:
again in a band of clear sky between the horizon and the rolhng clouds, and as he sank to rest, Regulus, alonfot £ Lion s stars, sailed out from behind the clouds— the stoc ^ question— as if to mark the end of our tale The band of clouds sank behind the horizon obscuring the SicMe to Its setting and the upper sky put forth all its briUiance to applaud the happy issue of our last struggle with the dark hile the Raven and the Bear, with Spica and Arcturus at TheT"^’ J^aised aloft their triumphal arch over our advance
journey was aU but over, and
wShe^ T ourselves with tea and coffee,
wMe the slow dawn extinguished the heavenly iUuminations:
it was a great moment when we mounted again to resume he march which would carry us aU but home. The world
darkness, and we
looked out now on a gravel plain, it is true, but a plain streaked with stripes not of sand but of green bushes. The "n 7 moisture, and long lines of dark
desert senses-
marked the shaUow channels of the floods from Tuwaiq whfle at some distance to our left a broader band of green betrayed the course of the great Wadi Dawasir, whos! tail
hut wT f desert with nothing
SSslh knowledge and experi
SomPt}>^^‘^ ^ delta of Shanna.
Somethmg of its long story we had traced in our wanderings ;
the rest is burmd m the sands. Here and there groups of spreading acacia bushes dotted the channels in the gLel
Tsniuvf ^ deserted burfow of
a spiny-tailed lizard.^
drafe^Tp^^*^ ^ great plain and the numerous
dramage-hnes that crossed it from the north-west to south-
^Dhabb.
353
THE WATERLESS WASTE
east, apparently trending from the slopes of Tiiwaiq towards the main Kne of the Dawasir channel. The plain appeared as a vast chess-board of alternating dark and light patches, in which, but mostly in vain, we sought fodder for the camels. The Hafmal is poisonous while the acacias, much to my surprise, attracted only the disdain of the thirsting beasts, but it was different when we came to a patch of scattered Dha a grass, half dead though revived to greenness by the rains, round which they crowded, pushing and jostling, to eat ravenously. It was but a mouthful or two all round — httle enough for starving animals now well on with their third day of foodless marching. Never, said Salim, in answer to my enquiry, have I myself gone so long without food for my camels. Without fresh fodder they become thirsty and, when they are very thirsty, they cannot eat until they drink. But they can go on longer Mke this if necessary. They could last five days, perhaps six, without food, but that would be their hmit. After that they would just sit down and die. Yet, if God wills, we will yet see good (fare) for the beasts to-day. So thought they all, and again they drove on the camels over the foodless scene as if the devil pursued. Zayid was in a foul temper and had discouraged the prepara¬ tion of coffee at the dawn halt to mark his unappeased dis¬ pleasure at my refusal to march at midnight. And Jupiter had confounded his captious carping at the route dictated by my compass. But the main ground of his objection was the loss of precious hours which might have carried us into Sulaiyil before nightfall, and he sought his revenge by vicious, purposeful driving, as if to achieve that object after all in my despite. I had too just an idea of the distance involved to be disturbed by such a prospect, but I main¬ tained a discreet silence when my compass informed me that Salim, by some strange aberration of judgment, was heading south-west instead of west on our original course. The boundless desert lay before us and we could deflect our course in the right direction when we would. A few extra miles would do us no harm, though they would cheat Zayid of his triumph.
So we marched for nearly five hours over an immense
354 THE EMPTY QUARTER
whitish wilderness of gravel in which were frequent burrows of the great Dhabb (spiny-tailed lizard) but little or no vege¬ tation except the now famihar lines of Harmal and acacias Everywhere there was the sprouting of tiny plants too minute for the camels to notice, and we sought in vain some¬ thing that would justify a halt for refreshments. Salim produced the last of his dry meat and we agreed that it would be pleasant to have some cofiee if we could find something for the camels to browse on meanwhile. But the distant fines of Harmal led us on in the hope they might be DTia’a only to disappoint us when we reached them until, towards 10 a.m., I announced my intention of halting at the next patch of 8amr (acacia) we might come to. Zayid redoubled his energies and went into the lead, but the others lagged in the hope that I would be as good as my word. I drew rein accord- ingly at the next bushes and went off after a hawk-moth that I saw darting from flower to flower of the Harmal, while the rest set to work with the pots and the fixe. Zayid, left in the air, came back livid with fury and I said not a word, leaving the others to appease his wrath. But not to be appeased he sulked apart while we enjoyed coffee and dates. Thus a good hom went by and, when we resumed the march, I informed Salim about the error of his direction. With the mounting sun the desert had become somewhat hazy and the poor Wsibifity made it impossible to see the distant uplands. Nevertheless Salim agreed that it would be safer to march west for a bit until he could pick up a landmark. We changed course accordingly, and Zayid came racing up from the rear m a perfect paroxysm of fury. What is this ? he cried; where are your senses that you change direction ? ihe afternoon is upon us and you go wandering here and there m^ this desert. The water is there, there, he added pointing south-west in the very direction from winch we had turned away. I felt no inclination to leave bahm to bear the brunt of the storm and took up the chal¬ lenge before he could answer, for in truth he was not very sure of Mmself. Oh Zayid, I answered, Salim is our guide and fie has directed us over the desert all these days. What fault ave you found in him that you question his guiding now ?
THE WATERLESS WASTE 355
Are you, then, also of the guides that you can tell us where the water is, which you have never seen since God created you ? But you are right, Zayid ; you speak sooth indeed, for the water is indeed there where you say— ay, the waters of Hassi and Qariya on the road to J^ajran. But if it is Sulaiyil you seek and the wells of Latwa, that is a different matter, for they lie in that direction — and I pointed somewhat northward of west — it is there that I am going, and not your wayj but as for yourself, the ordering is yours. Yet look you, Zayid, we have crossed the Empty Quarter, and it is thanks to you, as I know, for it was yours to mar my prospects — as you did twice — or to make them as you have done now. Why do you, therefore, seek to quarrel now when there is nought to gain from it ? From Sulaiyil you can go home if you like not my company, or you can go with me to Mecca if you please. But from now onwards I need you no more, so let there be peace between us. We have wrangled enough, and I want no more of it. At any rate I go with Salim thither,' and if you would see Sulaiyil, you had better come with us — but hold your peace !
He fell back to the rear, disgruntled and beaten, while Salim rejoiced like a child that I had spoken up for him. So we marched on over the wilderness, utterly bare and desolate, with nothing to bring us the assurance we sought of the landmarks that appeared not. He was underestimating the distance and that was all, but he was visibly becoming more and more uncomfortable. At length he stopped, shading his eyes to peer feebly into the uncompromising void. Look you, he said, I am lost. It is long, very long, since I was in these parts and I know them no longer. Fear not, I replied, but, if you will, let us turn more to the north-west. It is safer to go north into Tuwaiq than south into the Kmitless, wu.terless desert. So we turned north-west for half an hour' when at last there appeared afar off on our left a low ridge ending with a knoll surmounted by a cairn, while a broad band of SciTTncil and acacias to our right traced the course of a channel descending from the lower slopes of Tuwaiq. I cannot see well, said Salim, but if that yonder is a cairn it is surely Eijm al Ma— the cairn of the watering. Suwid, he
356 THE EMPTY QUARTEE
called out, do you go with another of the brethren to see if that is the cairn. So ofE went Suwid with Salih while we led on somewhat north of west. Almost immediately we came to two or three camel-paths meandering across the desert Sahm sighed with rehef. Surely these will bring us to the water if we follow them. And as we went other paths struck into the general line, the paths of generations of camels trailing from the desert pastures to the watering, scored deep in the gravel plain. We went by a stone-lined prayer-place of the herdsmen, and afar oS there appeared before us the line of dunes which they call ’Arq al Rammak, the dividing line between the vast plain of Al Jidda and the lesser plain of Al Farsha where the Wadi splays out into a delta in the angle formed by the northern and southern sections of Tuwaiq. A pleasant east wind blew freshly upon us from behind to temper the sultriness of the afternoon and the sky was leaden with duU clouds above. A few spots of rain dropped from them as we turned aside into a thin coppice of acacias for the afternoon prayer. Long since, a ' month or more ago, a raiding party had halted here, and there were plentiful droppings of the Rim, which evidently frequented the spot in considerable numbers to eke out the hot afternoons in the grateful shade of the bushes.
The wind increased in strength, veering to the south-east, as we continued the march across the flattened right shoulder of the Rammak dune-ridge, beyond which at last we looked upon the broad line of thick bushes which constitute the Farsha or flood-channel of Wadi Dawasir from the point where it debouches into the desert from the Latwa strait. The outer line of Tuwaiq lay to our right streaked with the bushy courses of numerous freshets, whose mouths towards the plain were choked with G^AadAa-covered sand-ridges, one of which, greater than the rest, is known as Qauz al Sha’diya from the torrent-bed of that name which I had crossed farther up in the midst of Tuwaiq during my journey of 1918.
A few drops of rain had fallen upon us as we prayed, and an j intermittent drizzle accompanied us on the last stage of the ? day s journey across a gravel plain hghtly sprinkled with ; sand to the broad Farsha channel, in whose lightly wooded !
!
1 to see if ile we led we came le desert, us to the >-er paths ations of watering, one-lined appeared iammak, i and the ut into a southern hly upon aoon and spots of 0 a thin I since, a lere, and evidently 3 out the
uth-east, shoulder e looked itute the nt where it. The tie bushy ards the 3, one of Sha’diya crossed of 1918. and an ;e of the Led with wooded
30. AL FARSHA, THE LAST CAMP IN THE GREAT DESERT BEFORE REACHING WATER NEAR SULAIYIL.
bed we spot w! bad pa the frii] lay in 1 that rc 48 mili conditi' cast a I celebra with SI might ] the cof I insist I ate m down, study o: exbausi I bad sc to dren as sudd there w. slumber verse a bonourc be proT darknes tion to i oh peoj marcbir of the I if you w and cofl broken > bad at 1 Ghadha- for an b I was
nravftr.
357
THE WATERLESS WASTE
bed we intended to pitch our last camp. It was a charming spot when we saw it next, morning, for the evening twilight had passed into the gloom of night by the time we reached the fringe of bushes. The wind whistled eerily about us as we lay in the open, and the lightning flashed JBrom angry clouds that rolled their drums of muffled thunder. A march of 48 miles had wearied us in spite of the pleasant weather conditions of the day, and the studied suUenness of Zayid cast a gloom over our spirits just when we might have been celebrating the last night of a great and successful adventure with such merriment as the slender remnants of our stores might permit. I made no attempt to join the party round the coffee-fire, and Za37id withheld the invitation on which I insisted, as indeed I had done throughout the march. So I ate my dates alone with the usual pot of tea to wash them down. The conditions were unfavourable to my customary study of the stars, and my stock of paraffi.n had long since been exhausted. There was nothing to do but get into bed, and I had scarcely done that than the floodgates of heaven opened to drench us with a heavy shower, which happily stopped as suddenly as it had begun, though all through the night there was an intermittent spitting that prevented continuous slumber. Suwid called out to the four corners of the uni¬ verse announcing our presence and identity in the time- honoured fashion of the desert lest men of evil intent might be prowling or lurking about in the cover of bushes and darkness. A roar of laughter greeted the customary invita¬ tion to all and sundry to come and share our meal. Look ye, oh people, he concluded, we are of the men of Ibn Sa’ud marching on the king’s business to Sulaiyil, and I am Suwid of the Dimnan, son of A1 Azma. Come unto us and welcome, if you would share our fare. We have good things in plenty, and coffee. The silence of the night closed upon us again, broken only by the cud-chewing of the weary camels, which had at last found fodder in plenty— if arfcA and Eamdh and Ghadha — and had been allowed to wander about under guard for an hour or so after we had unsaddled them.
I was woken by a rather belated call to Ihe morning prayer, and the twittering of birds among the burhes and
358 the empty quarter
treea—Samr and Sarh — around us was pleasant to mv ears after the unbroken silence of the great desert. Wetmt things easily enough while the camels grazed again on wet vegetation and the wind dried our sodden beddine anri baggage. The stars had gone before my waking, and only the faintest outhne remained of the triumphal arch. Juniter and Regulus had sunk to rest and the great question had been answered. The thing had happened and never more would we march in the dark. Where there’s a wiU savs a
proverb of Arabia, there’s a way, and every man wins what iie wills.
= aJTT? prayers and the usual coffee we sent ofi Abdullah ibn Ma’addi and Suwid in advance to announce our coi^g to the astonished Mayor and Corporation of Sulaiyil. And we did not forget to commission them to prepare a smtable dinner against our arrival. Our common craving was for lamb, a good fat lamb well stewed, after two and a half months with httle meat— and then only camel and occasional hares, our share of the latter working out at about one and a half per head in 68 days. And, even more, we yearned for bread, which we had not tasted since leaving Hufuf, for Ibn Jiluwi’s staff had omitted to include flour in our stores. So we looked forward to the flesh-pots of Sulaiyil as we started off in the wake of our messengers about 8 a.na. along the northern fringe of the Farsha channel. On our rigt across a flat plain, partly gravel and partly aUuvial clay, the low chff of northern Tuwaiq converged graduafly on our comse, which was set, very shghtly to the north of west, on the narrow pass by which the Wadi emerges from Its passage through the barrier. On the other side the gentler slopes of southern Tuwaiq converged from the south¬ east on the same point, while between the two the mile-wide sorub-jimgle of the Farsha ran in a straight hne shghtly south of east to the southern shoulder of the Rammak dunes Ever^here the droppings of sheep announced that we cmhsation and I picked up a marble property of a careless shepherd, blossom were a dehght after the treeless er , s an ng 20 or 30 feet liigh, as also did the acacias
THE WATERLESS WASTE
359
adorned with their charming yellow tassels. Birds sang or twittered in their branches, and swallows swooped low along the ground snapping up the insects that hummed gently among the flowers of spring. It was indeed a charming scene. And at last we saw a building of the sons of men, a little round watchtower of the shepherds, on the edge of the bushy channel beyond a clay bottom called A1 Manqa, the swamp. It was dry now, this swamp reputed to hold water for months on end after rains, but the deep footprints of wading cattle in the hard clay told a pleasant tale of other times. We paused a moment to gaze upon the little tower, 15 feet high and circular, the first habitation of men we had seen since leaving Jabrin.
Our journey was drawing to an end. We could see the tamarisk clumps of Latwa in the gorge and there were tamarisks in the Earsha bed, while we could make out ahead the stone ruins on the outer slopes of Tuwaiq, which I had seen 14 years before. Suddenly there was a movement in the bushes afar off to our left front — ^perhaps cattle. But, no ! it was men moving stealthily in open order on a wide front, moving as if to intercept us. We counted seven — there might be more — and there was an instinctive grasping of the rifles slung on the saddle-poles, the sound of ammunition pushed home into the breeches for action. But we continued our advance, unchecked, slowly, steadily, imtilit seemed — still from afar — that the men ahead carried no weapons. Why ! said Salih, they are unarmed ! Ay, said another, and ’tis women they are, not men, but coming across our path— wood-gatherers perhaps for the village fibres, and doubtless thinking we come to raid their folk. See ! how they come to bar our way. For such are the women of Najd ! By this time the nearest were near enough to hail. Peace be upon you ! we cried. And upon you be peace ! they answered shrilly, and hail, and welcome ! We halted as the bevy of ladies reached us, black-smocked and veiled with the black muslin of their fashion. And greetings were exchanged again while an old woman, with charming voice, took up the role of spokesman, standing in advance of the rest . What is the news ^ asked Zayid. All good, replied the old lady, but
360
the empty quarter
welcome to you, and whence come ye ? We come as ye see replied Zayzd, from the desert. We are ‘returners/ returned from our hunting. We have seen nought but good— no pastmes indeed but rains abundant. And saw ye tracks of fo« ! she asked. None, said Zayid ; bnt tell me, ^ „( your harvest ? and what the price of flour and dates anions your people ? Praise be to God, that has blessed us tMs season, she repHed ; you will get two measures i of fine flour tor the doUar, and dates at six weights or seven.^ The other women stood a little way back from their champion, open- eyed and open-mouthed doubtless under their conceaLs veils, but one of them, evidently the daughter of the charm mg-voiced old lady, had come a httle forward to her mother’s elbow and had coyly contrived to disarrange her veil suffi¬ ciently to reveal a pair of sparkhng eyes under a brow that was perfection. Her charm met with the inevitable, though silent, tribute of the weathered gaUants, whom her mother kept m conversation, and I noticed that the comparative splendour of my accoutrements and the manifest superioritv of my steed had served to focus a lovely gaze in the right direction It was no time, however, for daUiance, and Zayid and the old lady had soon exhausted the possibihties of such pohte conversation as was required by the circumstances of our meeting. So we turned with heavy hearts from our first ghmpse of human beauty after weeks and months of barren travail, but we counted it for luck that our first human en¬ counter had been so charming. A Brimstone butterfly flitted over the sea-green shrubs of Harm as if to chaUenge compari¬ son, and we passed on through the bottle neck of the Latwa
of their wood-cutting and
other thmgs And I was back once more among the scenes of a distant, but unforgotten, past.
The stone-built ruins of the original settlement of Sulaiyil fn ^ slope of Tuwaiq where it runs down
orn ^,1 -j bastions and battlements still
•+ ButthevaUey
wW fl unmerciful drought,
which had faUen upon this country of the south a year or two 1
^ TT azna.
S ye see, retumed Dod— no racks of what of 3 among us this ^ne flour le other 1, open- iceahng charm- lother’s fll suffi- w that though mother arative priority .e right 1 Zayid. of such nces of ur first barren lan en- flitted mpari- Latwa tig and miliar
ulaiyil down s still valley
3Ught,
3r two
after n now, w rains, folk foi of 1918 been ct derelici the im; them, worker tion, w had be came t grim re for th( Four n the gre rollers, ducts.
A sh one of • Welcor give ye arrived Amir, ] a man fine sta the kisj the wel their di coffee i desert 1 history the can
31. THE WELLS OF LATWA NEAR SULAIYIL. REACHED ON MARCH 14th AFTER CROSSING THE WATERLESS DESERT.
To face page 361.
THE WATERLESS WASTE
361
after my first visit and had endured without a break until now, when my second coming had been heralded by abundant rains. So again there was hope for the future to console the folk for the miseries of the past. The scattered palm-groves of 1918 were nowhere to be seen — the palms had perished and been cut down. Most of the score or more of wells had become derelict for the well-cattle had died ofi from starvation, and the impoverished cultivators had not been able to replace them. The scattered huts and granges of the tenant- workers had fallen into ruins. There was nothing but desola¬ tion, with occasional fields of standing corn where a few weUs had been kept in commission by the richer owners. So we came to a bulge in the valley flanked on the north by the grim remains of Qasr Tari, and there we found wells at work for the irrigation of ripening crops — ^wheat and barley. Four men and a woman were straining at the ropes to lift the great water-skins to the level of the creaking wooden rollers, over which the water poured to the tank that fed the ducts.
A slave rose from the shade of a spreading tamarisk by one of the wells to greet us in the name of SulaiyiFs mayor. Welcome to you, he exclaimed, and welcome again ! God give ye life and strength ! But an hour since your messengers arrived among us, and I have come out at the bidding of the Amir, Farhan, to be at your service. His name was Majid, a man of cheerful countenance and pleasing words, and of fine stature withal. We dismounted to be greeted in turn with the kiss of peace. The camels were unloaded and driven to the well, where willing hands had soon filled the trough for their drinking. And then there was making and drinking of cofEee and tea. The journey was over and the waterless desert had been crossed, probably for the first time in human history — 375 miles or more between water and water. Yet the camels drank but sparingly. They were too thirsty.
I
CHAPTEK, V
EPILOGUE
A company come up out of the Empty Quarter, wherein is
drought and famine I— Zayid. ^ , wxiexem is
The tale is ended— of the Empty Quarter. An hour’s riding brought us m the early afternoon of March 14th to the pahn- groves of Sulaiyil, where tents had been pitched against onr coming at the corner of one of the hamlets of the oasis— A1 Muhammad. Little had changed here in 14 years-the same long Hne of mud houses jutting out into the desert the same red-smocked women at the viUage weU, the same hordes of children with little or nothing to do, the same seemingly aimless and hopeless existence of the elders. Yet the passage of years had brought worse rather than better things. The ought had killed off the cattle and reduced the area under palms. The peace had closed the commercial avenues lead- Iinblockaded Turkish marts of war-time Yaman. ^d the collapse of the Persian Gulf pearling industry under e weight of the world- wide economic depression had thrown the citizens of the desert oasis out of their strange but normal emp oyment. Old Abdullah ibn Nadir, who had entertained me so hospitably in the rival hamlet of A1 Hanaish, had been gathered to his fathers, and his son, SaHm, reigned pros- perous y enough in his stead. Farhan al Ruwaiya still ruled as Ai^ in Al Muhammad, a charming man in his old age, loz-visaged, avaricious, but fuU of kindness to obhterate the less favourable impression left by his pardonable attitude in ose days. And another of the great merchants of then came do crave alms, faheh from the pedestal of wealth to beg his bread with a small boy to lead his blind footsteps to the somces of charity. Poverty was now widespread and I mus ave distributed the equivalent of farthings and haff-
■■ ' 362'"
■em is
r’s riding he palm- siinst our 5 oasis— *ars — ^the isert, the le hordes semingly 5 passage gs. The ea under les lead- Yaman. ry under i thrown t normal ertained lad been ed pros- bill ruled old age; bliterate attitude of then ealth to }steps to id and I nd half-
PLATbAutoTose ITsSlf IN THE THROUGH THE TUWAIQ
To face page 363-
pence sojouri tremiti had hxi in hop( We i bread ( evenin] cooked at sucl ments < good fc It was Sana, i and it Or, ma that h custon For dawne< vicious able in while £ their i yet la] Mecca afford after o the de their c Int ments unfrie) guidai
EPILOGUE
S63
pence to at least 500 persons during the two days of my sojourn — mostly starving children and women in the ex¬ tremities of wretchedness. Yet the rains of the past weeks had brought new hope to many who had resigned themselves in hopeless despair to the will of God.
We sat down to a mid-day meal of mutton and sopped bread and rice, eating our fill after empty days. And in the evening we dined with Earhan — ^a similar meal, simple, well cooked and full of nourishment. But our stomachs revolted at such exuberance, and for some days we suffered the tor¬ ments of the damned for no apparent reason but the taking of good food in plenty into systems attuned to desert starvation. It was said that the flocks of Sulaiyil graze largely on the Sana, a violent purge weE-known to the epicures of Mecca, and it may be that their meat is seasoned with the physic. Or, maybe, the chiE that came with the cold winds and rain that beat upon us these days had worked upon our unac¬ customed surfeit to make us iU.
For iE indeed we were, aE of us ! and the ides of March dawned bleak and stormy on a company prostrated by the vicious grip of the coEc. In the intervals of pain and miser¬ able inaction I ranged the gardens for butterflies and plants, while a host of smaE boys brought me smaE birds caught in their home-made snares. It was a long and weary way that yet lay before us, and the time was short if we would reach Mecca for the celebration of the pilgrimage. We could not afford to daEy and there was nothing to keep us at Sulaiyil after our camels had rested a while and fiEed their beEies with the desert plants by day and the rich lucerne spread before their couches at night.
In the coming days and weeks we would revisit the settle¬ ments of Wadi Dawasir to find them as inhospitable and unfriendly as before — ^but not openly hostEe — ^under the guidance of a bigoted prelate ; we would see the oases of the great Wadi Bisha and cross the sister channels of TathEth and Ranya ; we would in due course traE wearEy over the vast lava-field of the Buqum, where they point out to this day the routes of the advancing and retreating hordes of the Abyssinian Abraha in the ' year of the Elephant ' ; and we
364
THE EMPTY QUARTER
should see the latest of the ereat u
strew with the skulls and bones of the Sharifian^^^^^’ caught and annihilated by the Wahhabis ^
Turaba. And at last we should re^h Seeea
day after our setting forth from Hufuf. ^ ninetieth
carry us S^ou^h'Se^^lgrimage ""i^Tth
their nerves for as many weeks To a 4.1.
g-rErS!i5£“Si
ffl 'aS.‘‘aTa! «<i fa efforts to faj-
tiiem, and the point is gamed whether he succeed or not.’
THE END.
APPENDICES
A. METEORITES Am) EULGURITES.
By De. L. J. Spehcbe, E.R.S.,
Mineral Department, British Museum.
1. METEORIC IROIsT AND SILICA-GLASS FROM THE METEORITE CRATERS OF WABAR.
The large piece of metal found near the craters at Wabar shows the concave surfaces characteristic of weathered meteoric iron. It is in part covered with rusty scale and is evidently only a remnant of a much larger mass. As received at the [British Museum the mass weighed 25 pounds (114 kilograms). The shape is irregular with maximum dimensions in three directions at right angles of 10 x 6 x 5 inches. Some of the loose scale has been cleaned off, but on one side there is a thick mass of laminated scale with cemented sand grains. The scale is dark brown in colour and is magnetic. After the mass was photographed (fig. 14a) one end was sawn off with a hack-saw, and the two cut surf aces were filed flat and polished. On immersing the poMshed surface in a very dilute solution of nitric acid the internal crystal¬ line structure of the mass was at once revealed, and the etching was stopped after two or three minutes with the result shown in fig. 146. The beautiful patterns shown on the etched surface are known as Widmanstatten figures, and on this scale are to be seen only in meteoric irons. The structure consists of alternating bands of two alloys of iron and nickel, broader bands of kamacite being separated by very narrow bands of bright taenite. A third constituent occupying the angular interspaces is known as plessite, which also consists of iron and nickel but in different proportions. A few minute blebs of bronze-yeUow troilite (iron sulphide, FeS) are embedded in the nickel-iron. According to their crystalline structure there are several t^es of meteoric iron ; the Wabar iron is to be classed as a ‘ medium octahednte.^ A complex system of very fine lines (‘ Neumann lines ’) is shown on the bands of kamacite. These are slip bands probably pro¬ duced by the shock when the meteorite struck the earth.
A detailed chemical analysis of the Wabar iron made by Mr.
365
TtLE EMPTY QUARTER
M. H. Hey in the British Museum shows the -nre^^
per cent, of iron and 7*30 per cent nf of 92-00
of cobalt, copper, and sulphur, and traces of amounte
iord carbon. The specific grartty S 7 ™' '“o™".
mateml with cemenW sand Thl 3 "«»i
weathered remnants of larger masses ’ f fT metal weighs 33 granrs (just^™ oTelno^ &5eSr ““ m two, polished, and etched to determine the w ^ i This was markedly different from that sho^ by thTkr The structure is there but it does not come out so cle^rR !h a fuzziness as if it had been partly obliterated Thl ^ *^
taenite bands are still clearly seen bnf i -x • ^
granulated. This ohan„ h, Ir»m«oite is niinutei,
Woiallyin.nSLS“Lbv h»Hrth°“.’’' “‘O”*
about 860"^ 0. The^riltetS^tM ‘™„!a5Sr- mg m ^ Of the Wge Wabar tease, as sho^te
tete^teSSof'^S.et” iTc •
the Widmanst JenSi^Lre sW?^^^^^
zone on the exterior indicatina- tLt +w ^ ^ narrow
have approached 850° C ^ ^ temperature could not
enipWh &te‘Ze‘“it‘t™ 'T’" «re.t and indeed
this material is ® °v ®^™ation it was found that
to Mr Hev’s de+aU A ^ P^.® ®thca-glass, containing according
Ihe speciio^^y J 2I; rsT '*«•
glass £ optieSyfa^opl • '“‘‘™ “■*
the ^ineralogic^^agLi^. “etaorite will be published later in
APPENDICES
367
This is the most abundant and remarkable occurrence of silica glass that has yet been discoyered in nature. In addition to broken cindery masses up to 9 inches across there are large num¬ bers of ‘ bombs ’ of various shapes and sizes, ranging from 5 inches across to small ' black pearls.’ These ‘ bombs ’ are very light, being celluiar and very full of bubbles. The bubbles are of ail sizes, ranging from 2| to Many of these ‘ bombs ’
consist inside of snow-white sihca-glass resembling pumice, and coated outside with a thin skin of Jet-black silica-glass. The black glass is almost free from bubbles and its surface is usually quite smooth and glossy, but is often beset with tiny pimples, also of black glass. Mr. Hey’s analysis of this black glass shows rather less silica than that quoted above for the white glass, namely silica 8745 per cent., much more iron (ferrous oxide 5*77 per cent, and ferric oxide 0*28 per cent.), and also a little nickel (MO 0*35 per cent.).
These ‘ bombs ’ were no doubt ejected from a pool of molten silica formed by the fusing of the clean desert sand at the spot where the meteorite struck the earth, and their highly cellular character was no doubt due to the partial vaporization of the silica. As they flew outwards through an atmosphere of silica, iron, and nickel vapours they became coated with the skin of black glass, and the tiny pimples perhaps represent dew-drops of silica condensed on their surface. At a slightly later interval of time the less pure sandstone (containing sihca 92*06 percent.) beneath the desert sand became involved, melting to a grey and bluish silica-glass in which are embedded angular fragments of the white glass already consolidated but not yet shot out from the crater, and giving rise to a kind of ‘ pudding stone ’ (fig. 126). This specimen shows a ropy surface of fused silica (fig. 12a) and seems to have been one of the ‘ bombs ’ ejected slightly later.
Quartz melts at a temperature of about 1700° C. and at a still higher temperature in the electric arc it can be vaporized. A simple calculation shows that temperatures exceeding this order could be produced by the sudden impact of a large meteorite, such as a large mass of iron possessing a momentum that would receive relatively little check from the resistance of the air.
A mass of 100 tons (2*24x10® Ib.)^ of iron travelling with a
^ This is a moderate estimate. The Hoba meteorite in South-West Africa, now actually 60 tons, has partly rusted away and when it fell the weight was about 100 tons. A nhlHon tons has been assumed to be the weight of the meteorite which made the crater in Arizona ; a sphere of iron of this weight would have a diameter of 208 feet — small for a celestial body. The velocity might be up to 45 miles per second, and squaring this velocity much higher figures would result.
368
THE EMPTY QUAKTER
1-95 X 10.. foipound.. rthls^it' »SS "ST? energy of motion mU be transformed into heat a^d ?
Jonle’s mechamcal equivalent of heaWould
British thermal units— that is, sufficient to raise fhe
of 2-51 X 1012 pounds of water 1° P. But we are
^ited quantities of iron and quartz sand, the specific heatT^f
wffich at higher temperatures have been d^ermiSd as q 22
0-25 respectively. Dividing this amount of heat bet J?
100 tons of iron and an equal mass of Lnd tbe developed would be of the order of 2-38 x 10’° F. or 13 MO 000°T Even with a velocity of only 10 miles ner second tbe C.
would be about 200;000° C.^ ^ ^ temperature
This result seems absurd, and no doubt many factors have be overlooked in this simple calculation. But iSt <Se nu7s
ould be instantly converted into steam, but probablv the developed by the vaporization of iron and sl^a woffid be"S mo„ eftetoe m produoing a tremendous ‘ baot-flrr
laieL mtS'ofltrwT'* Widmanstitton sliuetuie shorn by the arger mass of the Wabar iron proves that this portion of the maaa as not raised to a temperature above 850° C The partial de
sr Se^t rs S£
Z^ ol m JrTlf.r “* '5”"“*“ “I ‘
S the neo b, ^ ^®®“ frequent L the moon.
1908 ahnnt ®^®®P*^°°^ of file Siberian fall on June 30th
2* “ yet tno™., none has ocourrer,.iZ;
&to-s:rsr:*t“1S
APPENDICES
369
crater, three-quarters of a mile across and 570 feet deep, in Arizona, was first known in 1891 and has been the subject of much controversy. More conclusive evidence has been given from the group of craters discovered in 1931 near Henhury in Central Australia, but the Wabar occurrence with the wonderful develop¬ ment of silica-glass is the most conclusive of all.^
Another small piece of meteoric iron, much the size and shape of a small bean and weighing only 8 grams (J oz.), was picked up on the sand at Naifa, about 110 miles south-by-east of Wabar. This fragment is perhaps part of the Wabar shower (in which case the giant meteor travelled from the south), or it may have been transported by the Arabs. In this connexion mention should be made of the ‘ Nejed ’ meteoric iron, since in crystalline structure and chemical composition it is exactly like the Wabar iron. Two masses of this weighing 131 and 137 lb. came from Arabia in 1885 and 1893 but their history is obscure. They were said to have fallen during a thunderstorm in 1863. It seems very pro¬ bable, however, that they had been transported from Wabar by the Arabs before that date. One of the masses is preserved in the British Museum collection of meteorites in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington.
At ‘Ain Sala, Adraj, and Umm Tina, not very far from Naif a, Mr. Philby found in the desert several small and much- weathered fragments of meteoric stones. They merely look like ironstone concretions and were cleverly spotted by Mr. Campbell Smith amongst the large collection of rock specimens. In thin micro¬ sections they are seen to be of the same type as the meteoric stone found by Mr. Bertram Thomas in 1931 at Buwah in the same district, and described as the Suwahib meteorite.^ These stones no doubt all belong to the same meteoritic shower, but are quite distinct from the Wabar shower of meteoric irons, there being no connexion between the two. The Arabian desert is evidently a good place for the preservation of meteorites fallen in ages past.
2. FULGURITES.
Silica-glass in another form, quite distinct from the more abun¬ dant material at Wabar, was collected in small amount at three other spots on the desert. These specimens have the shape of small tubes, very much like worm-casts in sand, and were noted
1 An article, ‘ Meteorite Craters,’ by L. J. Spencer appeared in Nature of May 28th, 1932 (pp. 781-784), a few days after Mr. Philby’s collections
were unpacked at the British Museum.
2 ‘ A new meteoric stone from Suwahib, Arabia,’ by W. Campbell Smith, Mineralogical Magazine, 1932, vol. 23, pp. 43-50.
2a,
370
THE EMPTY QUARTER
by Mr. PMby as accretions,’ evidently without any knowlH.« of their real nature. They are fulgurites or lightrdncT,? produced when ^scharges of hghtuing strike thf gromd tt’ intense heat of the powerful spark fusing the quartz^sand dow the path of the electric current. The inside of such tubes sihea-glass IS always smooth and glazed, and the outside is rousb with adhering grams of partly fused sand. The walls are very thin and friable, and specimens can be collected ou^ fagmentt. Though roughl/.yliudrical. the tato downwards and are sometimes branched. When flatten +1, ^ often have thin flanges of fused material projecting from the sidT
o the tube ; these have been called ‘winged fulgurites.’ The most
complete specimen in the Mineral Collection of the British Mus“™ i^a portion 3 feet in length of a tube 1-1| inches in diamett S Maldonado, Uruguay ; and the longest, but made up of pieced fragments, is nearly 16 feet in length, from near Dmsder A fulgurite m the sand-dunes at Drigg on the coast of Cumberland was traced for 30 feet without reaching the end. Specimens are vejty rarely found and are not common in collections The specimens coUected by Mr. Philby are fragments found the sand. They were fouL in hoUows iTkl v interesting fact is that they are
d the Arabs as mdications of the presence of water No
doubt the hghtmng would strike in the wetter and more conduct- mg parts of the ground.
in d,wr (f Uected 9/2/32). -Narrow tubes i cm.
in ^aineter, the longest fragment 7 cm. in length. These are
straight and are remarkable hi having vS
JwiTf ® f ^ thread-like central cavity. Nearly
SmaU^uhhW ^ sihca-glass fuU of
small bubbles. This suggests that the hghtning struck dry sand
bv tbp^ was very little radial expansion of the tube caused
pi- a diaisio.
_(2). Bani Jafnan (18/2/32)._Fragments of irregular shape
Here the waUs are tMn and the
S cm W fragment is
cross-section of about cm.
ShSna^ S\^V“'^^* (24/2/32), about 40 miles “west of
of flattened tubes with projecting
SralT^l^b-- thick hut with a wd^l-marked
^®“"? mtermediate between those in (1) and (2). The^l^est fragment IS 4 cm. long with a cross-sectil of abou^t
APPENDICES
371
B. GEOLOGICAL RESULTS.
1. MINERALOGY AND PETROLOGY.
By W. Campbell Smith, M.C., M.A.,
Mineral Department, British Musemn.
(a). Introductory.
In addition to the meteorites and the remarkable materials associated with the formation of the meteorite craters, Mr. Philby brought back a very extensive geological collection. The meteorites have been described by Dr. L. J. Spencer, and the fossils and their bearing on the geological history of Arabia by Mr, L. R. Cox. The remaining specimens, rocks and minerals, afford further, though less precise, evidence of the geological structure of the country, and a wealth of material illustrating the peculiar conditions prevailing in dry desert regions.
It wUl be convenient to classify the material under the following headings :
Rocks outcropping at the surface ;
The gravel plains and the " walking stones ’ ;
The sands *,
Surface deposits.
(6). Eochs outcropping at the surface.
To the west of the escarpment of Jurassic rocks, described in the report on stratigraphy and palaeontology by Mr. L. R. Cox as forming the Tuwaiq plateau, Mr. Philby has found a great area of older rocks occup3nng the country west of a line running roughly from Duwadami (west of Riyadh) to the neighbourhood of Bisha and Tathhth (south-east of Mecca). Near Duwadami the rocks collected are mica-schists, serpentine, and granite. Along the course of the Wadi Dawasir from the eastern part of Jizl westwards, a great variety of rocks was encountered, as is shown by the following brief list of localities and specimens :
Jizl, eastern part -
Jizl, western part Abraq Majarib Shaib Malah
Bani Shauhata -
Altered volcanic ‘ ash,’ and ashy sand¬ stone. Altered biotite-porphyry.
Red altered rhyolite.
Altered white rhyolite or felsite.
Red biotite-granite, vein-quartz, horn¬ blende-porphyry.
Red graphic granite, vein-quartz, microdiorite.
372
Bani Habai
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Mahnialj betwocn Baui Hubai and ’Arq[. Country east of Tathlith West of Tatblith - Khusbaim Dhib -
A1 Muta’arridbat -
Dabtbami - Near Wadi Ranya Raudhat ibn Ghannam - Bir ibn Ghannam Plateau of Sha'ib al Dha’a,
Wadi Kara - Turaba
p«>, i.
White biotite-granite.
? Epidiorite.
Microdiorite, red granite
Red pegmatite, pink apUte, white biotite-gramte.
Altered basalt (? spilite), white horn- blende-gramte, epidote in vein quartz.
Red biotite-gramte, altered dolerite.
Banded rhyolite.
Red jasperized rhyolite.
Pink aplite.
Hornblende-biotite-granite, epidote in vem-quartz.
Quartz-schist, and fine-grained gneiss
Hornblende-schist, quartz-porphyry.
but thu, are fa * °
Ser"SWB”S.““
ig^rSe mtoediate fa age between these old
A.w4 Xu“C\:“tr:ri”“i arr r
sandy bed?i?u?T^ tS same l^estones, bu/frirWe
exposed in the Buwaib nass lo'^'est beds
Wldi Dawik coZitTelinw “
stones. Theyconte^ LSerts T«tT\°r^®
A crystalline buff-colouredhmit^ identifiable.
Ofr oonopa^t^e^^.SS^TZei'rtt^-r'. fossils — ^were collecterl nt ■note.i -d , — but without
(Summan), and between Al Jida Raudha Barbak
south of Ltvd onX rwi W (Hasa), also
Qahba and Maqa?n!ma S present no evidence a^to age
of grey chalcedony wem^found "2" ? ^
scattered about at Hafair and m *^^^‘®®ioured flints were
deny were Kob^h “^yert^X'S
APPENDICES 373
The Miocene rocks are best represented in Janb Anbak and at Nasla near Anbak. The fossiliferous beds are white clayey limestones or marls, the calcium carbonate being in a very fine state of division and probably chemically precipitated. Some of it is cemented with salt into a hard rock.
Above the fossiliferous stratum the beds consist of :
No. 1 . Pink oolitic limestone wdth small shells and foraminifera.
No. 2. Brick-red very friable calcareous sandstone.
No, 3. Pink and white calcareous sandstone.
Beds very similar to Nos. 2 and 3 also occur at Jaub Ba’aij and at A1 Kharza, associated in the last place with a pebbly conglomerate. At Qarn Abu Wail near Sikak the rocks associated with the Miocene fossils are pale green sandy clay impregnated with salt, and a pink calcareous clay with the carbonate in an extremely fine state of division. A similar red clay comes from Judairat wells.
The white marls are similar to the material quarried for the manufacture of earthenware between Hufuf and Mubarraz. Quarries near Hufuf also show 10 or 12 feet of pale green and pink clays with fibrous gypsum and plates of selenite. No fossils were found in these beds. A similar greenish clay occurs on a ridge near TJ3run.
Compact limestones found at various localities give good examples of the polish or desert varnish so often recorded in dry desert regions. The colour of this polished surface varies from buff or drab to brick red, but the most common colour is grey in various shades. In some of the grey fragments the polished surface is an actual skin — the ^ Schutzrinde ’ described by J. Walther.^
One of these limestones with a pale grey polish from Mamura contains foraminifera [Alveolina] and seems to be a pure lime- stone. Another, dull brown in colour, contains abundant minute angular quartz grains in a cryptocrystalline calcite cement. The grey ‘ Schutzrinde ’ ^ seems to form on limestones of more than one kind, but was not found on the limestone pebbles collected from the gravel plains. It occurs both on projecting parts of outcrops and on loose pieces. Some calcareous concretions are entirely coated with it.
LocaHties from which Mi, Philby brought examples are :
^ Walther (Johannes). — Das Gesetz der Wustenbildung in Gegmmart und Vorz&it. Leipzig, 1912, pp. 144-153.
^ That the grey colour and polish are a surface effect is indicated by a specimen of a quite different yeUow crystalline shelly limestone from Mulaiha near Kiuthaiqan which lithologically resembles some of the Cretaceous limestones.
374
the empty quarter
Mutaiwl, QaUba Maqainama, Bir Eadhil, Eaqqat al Bit Mukassar ; also from Bani Jafnan, Mamura Abn m ? . and Shuqqat al Hawaya, west of Abu Mubairat It JeTf locahty the varnish = is not grey, but buff and brick^red^
A rock of rnore than ordinary interest outcrops amono- +1. sands a,t Zuwaira and west of Abu Muhairat. At firsTsK looks like an oohtic limestone consisting of spherical V* tween i and 1 miUimetre in diameter ^CwtsptS!^^ that quite 60 per cent, of the grains are of colourless quS! and the rest are rounded grains of limestone coated withl tMn fflrn of recently deposited calcium carbonate. The rock a-nnao to be a consoMated quartz-limestone-sand like those found bv Mr. Bertram Thomas’- about Shanna. It is lightly cementcH with a ca careous cement, which has also coated the detS grams, giving them a duU surface. ™
Ito the same region very fine-grained friable quartz-sandstones mth a very smaU amount of calcareous cement were-founn Abu Muhairat, Abal Khadim, and Umm Tina. These are nale ohve-buff or hght buff in colour and must have a very lowTontml of the iron o:.ides which give colour to the more recelt sS Shghtly more coarse-grained sandstones of the same type some
cement, occur at ‘Ain Sala. TheV con
^chtTm^b 7 the grains of which are 0^^^
much as 1 millimetre m diameter and well rounded It is notice
At a d^tAof 22iaS^™ slightly rounded
ill} a aeptH ot 22 fathoms m a well at Bir Fadhil the sandqfnuA
oontam, pebble. ,p to 2 or 3 millimetree tocSLSf
tocsin ‘XS to'® *“! ““S' ™giial
roc^s m which the meteorite craters of Wabar were found ThP
rocks surrounding the craters, described by DrSpen^r 'in S peculiar fritted cream-coloured sandstones with a
Liii S uer ^ showed them to
Srafout haM d' microscope the quartz
S shattered tnd W ^
planes With ’^~Uy . numerous fracture
■vrhite opaq^ue powdery minemBwh*^^^^^^’ f quantit;^ of pure ftdlv determincil K, I which has not at present been
^y determmed, but which is in aU probabilit/ amorphous
widrSribuS Hufuf, are found to have a
q,uartz grains set' of abimdant small rounded hard opaque white calcareous cement.
^ Bertram Thomas; 1932, p. 367.
APPENDICES
375
They seem to be quite unf ossiiiferous except at one or two localities in Hawaya and Bani Zainan, where they contain casts of Melanoides tuberculata.
Mr. Philby first met with these on the western edge of A1 Nala, on the route to Hufuf , and they appear again in collections from Umm al Khisa, ’U3ru.n, and the Thuwair ridge. Here and at A1 Kharza they form low ridges, thinly strewn at the last locality with pebbles from the gravels. Beyond Hufuf they appear on the ridge between Khin and Jabrin, forming hillocks at the southern edge of Summan and at intervals to as far south as Adraj, and at Hawaya, Band Zainan, and Kumaila.
Cheesman found the same kind of rocks forming Jabal Jawamir and Jabal Jabrin al Wasti.
At Jabal Jawamir Cheesman found them underlain by white and pink sandstones cemented with salt. Mr. Philby found a pink compact sandstone (but with calcareous cement) beneath the white chalky sandstones at Al Kharza and probably in the same relation also at Jaub Ba‘aij .
There is no certain evidence of the age of these chalky sand¬ stones but they are almost certainly younger than the Mocene ; they are probably even younger than the gravels which form the stony plains.
The presence in them at some localities of Melanoides tuberculata indicates deposition of the sands at those places in water, but it is possible that the cementing material has been derived from the gradual seeping up of solutions rich in calcium carbonate (and probably sulphate), as in the ‘ surface limestones ’ of parts of South Africa. That supplies of calcium salts are available is shown by the prevalence of surface deposits of gypsum and of calcareous concretions over much of the area occupied by the ‘ chalky ’ sandstones.
Some pebbly calcareous sandstones from Raqqat al Shalfa and the eastern edge of Sahma have a white calcareous matrix like that of the chalky ’ sandstones, and it may be that these too are surface deposits. Cheesman, however, found a rather similar rock underlying loose gravels in the Jafura desert.
True conglomerates with rounded water-worn pebbles are only found in the beds of the Wadi Sahba and Wadi Dawasir. In the latter they f orm knolls near Barzan, the conglomerates overlying sandstone. There they contain pebbles of sandstone as well as of quartz, granite, etc., and the matrix is sand, with a thin film of gypsum frequently surrounding the pebbles. The matrix of the Wadi Sahba conglomerate is much more calcareous and resembles that of the ‘ chalky ’ sandstones. A conglomerate from Wadi Ranya has all the appearance of a recently cemented gravel.
376 the empty quarter
Freshwater sediments.— Probably the most recent onK , sediment encountered is a fine calcareous silt, light drlun color from Rumaila and Shuqqat al KhaEat. At the latter 100=,^^^ ’
Tif reported oj^hV^
G. C Robson. The silt consists of minute angular grains mu mm.) of quartz and other minerals, and calcite dust^ T+ u seem quite possible for such mateAal to bfwowrLing dusf storms into pools of standing water ^
Volcamc rocks.-Mention wiU be made below of some fragments basalt found on the surface of the desert about ’Uj and TJuim al Hadid, may hydreds of mdes from any known volcanic centre The nearest extinct volcanoes seen by Mr. Phfiby were in the yighbourhood of Turaba (Harrat al Buqum Zd 1
NawasE) The specimens collected at Abal Raiyat in this neigh
^ ^ but from An (west of Turaba) comes
Msy specimen of red, weathered trachyte which shows affinities
“Sion, wMofietSly
ot lertiary yd mme recent age. Further coUecting of the com-
wobabir especiaUy trachytes, in this region would
p obably discover some very interesting material.
i<^)- The gravel plains and ‘ sioalkiTig tones.’
Ty great gravel plains traversed by Mr. PhEbv nresent thp ysortoent of beautEul pebbles. AE teing more or less pohshed by mnd action, they show them briUiant coburs and the characters^ the stones to the best advantage.
VII to Mab? r" P ^ short note in Appendix
(MacmiUan & Co., LoSoJ^S) °°Chfr
extending h-r^rr. tt„J Cheesman found them
of G) Saramid and Jafura desert, across the plain
miles nSSah^n^^n . 15
north of Banaivan in Thomas crossed them farther east,
Plulbv encounWpd ru ® “ northern Sanam. Mr.
tiinSy
£«n ‘i'O einnal. are foUowed again
fomd at Umm .1 Hadiralf^rii,^*^" ^
PhUby oSlecS* away to the south-west, for Mr.
APPENDICES 377
with black mottlings, black and dark purple rhyolites, quartz porphyries, epidosites and epidotized volcanic tuffs.
The only types frequently collected by Philby, which are very rare in Cheesman’s samples, are fine-grained red and white granites.^
In the discussion of the problem of the origin of the gravels encountered by Major Cheesman (loc, cit,, p. 423) it was stated that ‘ we have no knowledge of the original source of the pebbles.’ That was the position in 1926 but Mr. Philby has succeeded in clearing up this question very satisfactorily.
He finds west of a line running roughly from Bisha and Tathlith (south-east of Mecca), to about Duwadami (west of Riyadh), a mass of old igneous and metamorphic rocks forming the back¬ bone of the country. From the eastern part of Jizl to Turaba he found a variety of red and white granites, dark porphyries, brown, banded, and dark red rhyolites, and vein-quartz (often with epidote). These are types abundantly represented in the gravels, and there is no reason to look elsewhere for their source. One may definitely ascribe the gravels of the southern area (Sahma to Hidba Farsha) to these older igneous rocks outcropping farther west along the course of the Wadi Bawasir, and one may reason¬ ably infer a western source for the extensive gravels of Jafura and Summan.
Evidence of the age of the gravels is very scanty. The sugges¬ tion made in the note on Major Cheesman’s collection that they were Pliocene corresponding to those in the Baktiari series of Traq was little more than a guess, but may be near the truth. From their position with relation to rocks of known age all we can say is that they are definitely post-Miocene. Their relation to the white chalky sandstone of J abrin and Hufuf is not clear, but some of the evidence points to their being older than these rocks, which, as pointed out, may be a recent or sub-recent surface formation.
The vast extent of the gravels shows them to be something much more extensive than the deposits of such Wadis as Sahba and Bawasir, and they are clearly of earlier date than the erosion of the present Wadi beds.
The yellow and buff limestone pebbles in these gravel plains show to perfection the remarkable effects of etching by solutions, which takes place when the limestone pebbles are embedded in the moist sand below the surface. These " Rillensteine ’ or etched
1 A piece of red granite, such, as could have been derived from a large pebble, was found at Qasr Dahbash (Jabrin), and the fragment found hf Cheesman in the well spoil-heap near Jabal Jawamir may be a chip of such a stone.
378
THE EMPTY QUARTER
pebbles are weU known wherever limestone pebbles oconr sandy deserts. The formation of the ‘ rills ’ was long snpSsed
effect. The solution is well demonstrated in some of the limo stones contaimng corals referred to above, the coral beinff kft standing out in relief from the surrounding matrix. Wind actinn producing a natural sand-blast, results in a smooth pohshW aiTn not grooving of the stones, and the formation of wind-fac^H stones, also toown as ‘ ventifacts ’ or ‘ dreikante,’ is well iUus. trated m all its stages by the limestones.
_ A common form has a long elliptical base with two gentlv slou- mg sides, both polished and meeting in a gently curving edse Another form is very long and thin, pointed at both ends like a abundant, however, are circular discs with a flat slightly pitted and polished surface. These are derived from the cutting down of the flattish circular pebbles which are rather abundant m the gravels. According to Dr. A. Wade who has made a careful study of wind-faced pebbles in Egjrpt, they repre sent the very last stage in the cutting down of the stones, the flat polished surface bemg almost level with the surface of the sand Walking stones.’— The Arabs believe that some stones in the desert walk about, leaving a track in the sand. They attribute this remarkable power to the work of spirits. Major Cheesman’s Marri guide traced him the pattern of the track in the sand, and his drawing of it resembles as much as anything a long and very curly tail, havmg m it several very irregular loops. He described the stones as round and about the size of a hen’s egg, and he later produced an oval pebble of vein-quartz about 6 x 5 x 5 cm. which he said was one of the kind that do walk.i Still Cheesman’s party never saw one on the move or even at the end of its track, though the soldiers a^anged one with a sufficiently good imitation ot the track to take m his guide, who was delighted until he dis- covered the trick.
Mr. Philby brought back several of these ‘walking stones.’ The largest was found by two members of the party who first _ w the tracks and then tracked it down ’ at Hibaka Qa’amiyat. ilus IS a smooth cylindrical pebble of limestone about 12 x 6 cm. and weighs 670 grams. Another from Tuwairifa is a flattened ^e^^te, roughly triangular, 4 cm. long, and weighs 26 grams.
b^rawU°™^^ <^0 nothing
secoiid ‘walking-stone’ from ^ ^ roimded piece of very vesicular
black basaltic scona weighing 18 grams, and 4 cm. in diameter.
^R.E. Gheesman, Jw Unknown Arabia, hondon, 1926, p. 236 and p. 283.
APPE]n)ICES
379
Yet another and larger piece of exactly similar basaltic scoria is from Bir Eadhil. It weighs 207 grams and measures roughly 9x5x5 cm. It is not clear whether this was claimed as a ‘ walking stone ’ or whether it is merely ‘ the kind that do walk/ but it is interesting to find in an earlier collection sent by Mr. Philby two pieces of reddish-brown basaltic scoria from Harra Kishb near Taif (B.M., 1931, 430, 1) of which ‘ the tracks for about fifty yards were seen by H.H. Amir ^Abdullah.’
The explanation of how the belief in ‘ walking stones ’ arose must be left to others, and to this problem may be added another. How do the fragments of basaltic scoria come to the desert ?
The Arabs say that pieces like the stone from Bir Fadhil are occasionally found on the surface of the sands. As we have seen, the party did find another one at Tuwafrifa.
The identification of the stones as basaltic scoria was confirmed by means of a complete quantitative chemical analysis made by 3dr. M. H. Hey. The composition agrees fairly well with some kinds of basaltic lavas (nepheline-basanite).
In addition to the two pieces of scoria, two other fragments of basalt were found, one at ’Uj and the other at Umm al Hadid, both far removed from the ‘ walking stones.’ They are typical basalts : the former glassy, very vesicular and closely resembling the ‘ walking stone ’ of Tuwafrifa ; the other is a well-crystallized ohvine-basalt, an angular fragment, somewhat vesicular, not at all water-worn but polished by wind action.
These two pieces of basalt and the ^ walking stones ’ of basaltic scoria were found at intervals along 150 miles of Mr. Philby’s route. Although found in the district of the gravel plains, no others were found among the gravel pebbles and it is most un¬ likely that they are water-borne. The nearest volcanic area is in the neighbourhood of Turaba, east of Taif, 600 miles away. There is no hint of any undiscovered volcano in the Bub^ al Khali, and the basalts seem quite out of place in this part of the desert.^ The only probable explanation seems to be that stones of this kind have been carried and dropped by passing Arabs, and some sup¬ port for this idea may be found in the information given to Mr. Philby that the powder of such stones is used by the Badawin as a medicine for the eyes.
(i). The sands.
The sands of the Bub' al Khali are very uniform in character and call for little comment ; they consist almost entirely of quartz,
1 Two other pieces of basalt were collected on an earlier trip at ’Ashaira near Tail
380
THE EMPTY QUARTER
the graiM of which are weU rounded and seem to average ahn, . 0-7 mm. m diameter. Some sands contain a mixture of ooL i and pale yeUow-coloured quartz, and the general colour^Tt?! sands IS pinteh buff A bright orange sand from 'Ain Sala cS sisting almost entirely of very well rounded millimetre mis S quartz, is an exception. Nearly every sample examined cStained muiute grams of ^estone, the prevalence of which in these sands was first noticed in Mr. Bertram Thomas’ coUection The Imestone grains are both white and brown, and are usuaUy among the finer constituents averaging 0-07 mm. in diameter SoS? times, however, the sands include pellets of the white ‘ chalkv ’ sandstones, and of the drab or grey hmestones which metsme r 3 millmetres across. The heavy minerals of the sands have
Be trarT^'^'^^^^^’ noted t ^
Bertram Thomas specimens appears frequently as isolated
grams. Rounded grains of felspar are frequeiffly ohservtd^ Prom a mineralogical pomt of view the ‘ singing sand ’ of Haifa presents no peci^ar characters. It consists mainly of quart as clean weU ro^ded grains averaging 0-3 mm. in lamler the
^ to quartz there are small
felspar grams of Mmestone and occasional grains of
(e). Surface formations.
Calcium carbonate.— Calcareous concretions occur in various
SfandHa^t route between ™
at Raott (Jitside these limits they were coUected also
® Umm al Hadid and Bani Zainan.
th^eT^dsT^°"® description one can divide them roughly into
extremely irregular shape probably formed in the sS upwards of calcareous solutions. When
^taHSiredT <^ften some-
1 take on a shiny grey coat or
rind and then look like very ceUular pieces of coke ^
The ro?k "tS*® limestone or sand,
ciried Tw^ weathering, may ultimately be
platy fragments^.^^^ follow calcareous crusts or flat
reichsw'^r These are often quite straight and
UsuaUv thev ^ mi ®'ar®ly they are curved like roots.
9.re hollow. They have probably been formed
SotieT*^ sand. They Ire not common
Hadh abu Eha^bl ^d Hawayf specimens from between
APPENDICES 381
Calcareous deposits on a more extensive scale evidently once occurred at ‘Ain Sala. Here Mr. Pbilby collected a large number of roughly cylindrical pieces of tufa, each encasing a perfectly cylindrical smooth-walled tube. The tubes measure from 1-2 cm. in diameter and reach 15 cm. in length. They have quite smooth inside walls and are usually uniform in diameter from beginning to end. Some pieces of tufa contain more than one tube ; and in such cases the tubes are nearly parahel or very slightly diverging. The outer surfaces of the pieces of tufa, while approximately cylindrical, are uneven and very porous hke typical calcareous tufa or travertine. Some are partly smoothed and a little polished by wind action.
For some time no clue could be obtained as to what had caused these tufa-cased tubes. Roots and plant stems were suggested, but the tubes seemed too smooth and too straight and uniform in diameter for these. The explanation was by a fortunate chance supplied by Colonel J. R. Robertson, who remembered having seen similar tubes in calcareous tufa from Trans-Jordan. At his suggestion a specimen has been kindly presented to the British Museum by ]\Ir. J. E. G-. Palmer. It consists of a stem of the reed Arundo, 14 mm. in diameter, completely encased for over 40 cm. of its length in a cylindrical casing of calcareous tufa, with a radiating structure. When pulled clear of the reed stem the inside of the tube is seen to be perfectly smooth and very uniform in diameter. At the nodes there are swellings in the outer sur¬ face of the tufa casing. When Mr. Philby’s hollow cylinders are compared with this specimen, there is no possibility of doubting that they too are the casings of reed stems.
The specimen from Trans- Jordan was found by one of Messrs. Rendel, Palmer & Tritton’s engineers in the bed of Wadi Zahar, a tributary of Wadi al ’Arab, on the eastern escarpment of the Jordan valley.
From this identification, and from the abundance of the hollow cylinders lying scattered about, one must conclude that a reed bed grew at ‘Ain Sala at no very distant (geological) date. One may perhaps associate this reed bed with the period at which lived the fresh-water shells mentioned in Mr. Cox’s report, for at one of the localities for these, namely Abu Muhairat, Mr. Philby collected also a single specimen of tufa showing the hole left by a reed stem. This is so far the only other record of these interesting relics of moister times.
Gypsum. — ^In the form of surface crusts g3?p)sum seems to be widespread over parts of Mr. Philby’s route. Fine-grained ‘gypseous tufa’ was collected at Pharbun, ’Uj and Bir ibn Juhaiyim. At the first-named locality it overlies a pink sand-
382
THE EMPTY QUARTER
stone. Farther south similar deposits appear in Bani Jafna
Ahu Khashba (exposed in a cliff), and along the route from Shanm.’ to Abu Muhairat. ‘-'uauua
At a few looahties the gypseous masses consist of aggreeatea nf crystals of a very flat habit and roughly circular in plan Thaap
were found in the cHff at J aub Ba'aij, at Umm al Nussi and at tS well of Hafair.
Tubular concretionary forms occur at many localities and are probably formed round plant roots or stems Hke those of calcite described above ; in fact many of them do consist in part of calcium carbonate. The interior wall of these tubes is often lined with white powdery gypsum, like that which often coats the surface of the gypseous tufa.’
In addition to these surface ‘ tufas ’ and concretions, Mr Philhv found at many locahties crystals of gypsum filled 4dth quartz ^ams which they have enclosed as they grew in the moist sand.i They are fanuliar to visitors to Touggourt in Algeria as ‘ desert roses, the crystals being pinkish buff in colour, roughly hexagonal m outhne and flat lenticular in cross section. Most of the Algerian ^ecmens occur in groups and clusters, but those found by Mr. rhilby at Judairat are single loose crystals about 8 cm in diameter.
The crystals found at other localities are of a different shape. Ihese are more hke the common habit of gypsum crystals with the ctoopmacoid (010) and the pyramids (111) well developed, but the prisms and orthodomes are represented only by cavernous rough hollows. Some of these exceed 10 cm. in length. Oceasion- aUy twm-crystals of the weU-known swallow-tail habit are found. Smaller crystals are often better formed and have rough prism races stul preserved. o
Crystals of these kinds were found at ‘Ain Sala, Manifa, Ziqirt Mamura, Turaiwa, and Bir ibn Suwailim. ’
The smaller crystals often occur in groups, pink or drab in colour. In these the sand is so thick, and projects from the surfaces to such an extent, that they appear to be built up wholly of quartz grams, and the g^^sum which gives to the aggregate its form is almost undetected even by a lens. Sometimes the sand grains become too much for the gypsum and the underlying crystal- form IS then guite obscured. J" 6 J-
G3Tsum_in its other forms, clear colourless plates known as selemte and wMte compact alabaster, was found only in the clay quarries near Hufuf and (the alabaster) at Jaub Judairat and in
of sand-flUed caloite crystals
of Fontamebleau, which often contain from 60 to 80 per cent, of sanl
APPENDICES 383
small pieces at Jaub Anbak. These occurrences are probably connected with the Miocene beds of these districts.
Limonite. — The ^ iron pan ’ so common in many sandy forma¬ tions does not appear to be frequently found in the Bub‘ al Khali. Three specimens, supposed at first to represent rounded concre¬ tions of / iron pan,’ were found on close examination to be stony meteorites similar to the one found by l-Ir. Bertram Thomas at Buwah in Sawahib. They are the subject of a special note.^
Limonite with a highly polished surface was collected near Dhabba in ’Arma, and in the form of ‘ iron pan ’ and ferruginous tubular concretions appears on the surface near Dughm in the Riyadh district.
2. STRATIGRAPHY AISTD PALAEONTOLOGY.
By L. R. Cox, M.A.,
Department of Geology, British Museum.
(a). The Jurassic Mocks of Jabal Tuwaiq,
Mr. Philby’s previous journeys have shown that the Tuwaiq plateau, whose western edge forms a continuous escarpment, 500 to 800 feet in height, from Wadi Dawasir in the south to beyond Zilfi. in the north — a distance of over 400 miles — is formed by Jurassic rocks. Immediately to the west, in the plain, there are extensive exposures of limestone of somewhat earlier age than the rocks of the escarpment, but so far these have 3delded no fossils. Still farther west, as far as the igneous complex of western and south-western Kajd, the older rocks are masked by vast spreads of gravel. A few fossils collected from three localities on the Tuwaiq plateau (Bakkain to the north-west of Riyadh, and ’Ashaira and Hamar about half-way between Riyadh and Wadi Dawasir) were described in 1921 by R. B. Nevrfcon,^ who considered their age to be Sequanian or Kimmeridgian.
On his most recent journeys Mr. Philby has collected numerous specimens from the Tuwaiq Jurassic, largely from richly fossil- iferous exposures in the neighbourhood of the Haisiya pass, to the N.W. of Riyadh, but also from the Sha’ib Markh district, 50 miles farther north, and, in the south, from Khashm Amur, where the Wadi Dawasir cuts through the Tuwaiq escarpment.
The Haisiya fossils are preserved in a brittle light yellow marly limestone and include ammonites, which enable their age to be determined definitely as Upper Callovian. The following are among the species from this locality.
^‘Meteoric stones from Suwahib, Arabia,’ by W. Campbell Smitb, ilfmera^ogrica^ Afagazme, March, 1933, voL 23.
® Ann. Jfa^. N'aL 9th series, voL vii., pp. 389-403.
384
THE EMPTY QUARTER
Ammoi^toidea :
Erymnoceras spp.
Lamellibeakohia :
Parallelodon sp.,
M^ytilus juTBTisis I^oeinGr,
Mytilus {Arcomytilus) ci. asper (J. Sowerbv)
Mytilus (Pharomytilus) plicatus (J. Sowerbvl’
Eeligmus integer Douville, ^ '
Lojpha of. soUtdrid (J, dc C. SowGrby),
Exogyra ndud J. Sowerby,
Chldmys cf . fibrosd (J. Sowerby),
CJhldmys n. sp., ’
Cerdtomyd excentricd (Roemer),
Cerdtomyd cf. pducilirdtd (Blanford),
Ceromyopsis cf, helveticd de Loriol,
Ceromyopsis cf. rostrdtd Douville, ’
Quenstedtid cf. mdctr aides (Agassiz),
Homomyd inorndtd (J. de C. Sowerby),
Pholddomyd cdrindtd Goldfuss,
Pholddomyd dubryi Douville.
At Uwaimdh, in the same neighbourhood, a well-nreservpd specmen of the lamelUbranch Lopha hastdlata (Schlotheim) was
& underf^^T"?® itself show that the town
The fossils from Sha ib Markh consist mainly of casts of a large 1^7®' (1^. cf. desvoidyi d’Orbig^) preserved S
AgaJk ■ Y<^t^omya {^Unicardium) cf. globosa
Agassiz. It IS interesting to note that the matrix of these sneci- mens is identical mth that of the specimens of the same spLies of Nermm recorded from Bakkain in Newton’s nanerTnd nf +1?!
RhynchoneUa cl subvariabilis
whI?hSer?7.i“77®?i! ^ sandstone some-
Markh ^ and than the Nennea bed of Bakkaiu and Sha’ib
Gasteopoda :
Nerined cf, desvoidyi d^Orbigny.
Lamellibeanchia :
Pctrallelodon sp.y Mnsculusn.sp.,
appendices 386
Mytilus {PharoTnytilus) plicatus (J. Sowerby),
Heligmus cf. dsictiicus Douvilley Mactromya cf. glohosa Agassiz,
Ceratomya excentrica (Roemer),
Ceromyopsis cf. helvetica de Loriol,
Homomya inornata (J. de C. Sowerby),
PJioladomya aubryi Douville.
The above fossils include the three species found in the Nerinea bed of Sha ib Markh ; hence their horizon appears to be the same. Several of the species in the list are also found in the Callovian of Somarnand ; it is therefore probable that these beds, like those at Haisiya, are of Callovian age.
To sum up, it may be seen that there is strong evidence for assigning a Callovian rather than a Sequanian-Eammeridgian age to all the fossils yet collected from the Tuwaiq Jurassic. The well-characterised species Lophci philbyi Newton (unfortunately a synonym of L, costellata (Douville)), originally collected by Mr. Philby at Hamar, has not been found at other Tuwaiq localities, but is now known to be abundant in the Callovian (and perhaps also the Bathonian) of Somaliland, while in Sinai it marks a horizon considered by Douville to be Upper Bathonian. The Tuwaiq Nerinea, which is specifically distinct from— although closely related to — N, desvoidyi, a Corallian species, was also collected by Major H. S. Hazelgrove from near Naubat, in the Aden hinterland.^ The age of the beds at Naubat is uncertain, although Callovian fossils have been reported from (?) Gol Rakab, in the hinterland of Shaqra, north-east of Aden.^ Fossils from Dhala, some 50 miles north of Naubat, described by Newdon and Crick (loc, cit.), are of Lower Edmmeridgian age. This fauna of higher horizon is characterised by Parallelodon egertonianus (Stoliczka), Nucula cuneiformis J. de C. Sowerby, and Trochm arabiensis Newton, which have not yet been found in the Tuwaiq district.
(b) The Upper Cretaceous Eoclcs of the ^Arma Plateau^
To the north and north-east of Riyadh, and some 30-40 miles east of the Tuwaiq escarpment, a parallel escarpment marks the western edge of the 'Arma plateau. At Khafs, about 60 miles north of Riyadh, this escarpment is about 200 feet in height, but it sinks in a southerly direction until it reaches the level of the gravelly plain of the western part of the Rub" al ELhaH desert.
^ See Newton, Ann. Mag. Nat. Hist., 8th series, vol. ii., 1&08, p. 9.
^ See Stefanini, Appendix to O. H. Little, Geography and Geahgy of Makalla (SoiUh Arabia), ^
386
THE EMPTY QUARTER
The ’Arina escarpment is formed by white and cream-coW,! limestones which prove to be of Upper Cretaceous age. The moqf abundant fossil species, numerous specimens of which mo,. coUected by Mr. PhUby at Khafs and at Masajiri, is the W phcated oyster, Zopka dichotoma (Bayle), a form found in the Senonian of Persia and many localities in northern Afrioa Other fossils found at Khafs include, in addition to internal casts of several molluscan species, a specimen of the well-known Senoman lameUibranch Roudairia drui (Munier-Chalmasl in- determinate Rudists, a large discoidal Poraminifer probably belonging to the genus Orbitoides, and several well-preserved corals belonging to two species of the genus Cyclolites (C. dlivUca Lamarck and C. polymorpha (Goldfuss)), both Senonian species - hence thereus every justification for assigning a Senonian age to the rocks of the ’Arma escarpment. Further work must decide whether any Cretaceous rocks of lower horizon occur immediately to the west. ^
(c) Eocene Bocks,
It is most probable that Eocene rocks occur somewhere between the Arma plateau and the Miocene met with south of the Gulf of Bakrain, and hmestones at Hufuf may perhaps be referable to that formation. No fossils, however, were obtained. Dr. 6. M. Does found that the Qatar peninsula is formed of Eocene rocks an observation confirmed by Mr. B. S. Thomas, who collected Eocene fossils when approaching Dauha from the south.
(d) Miocene Rocks.
Qam Abu Wafi, near Sikak, at the southern end of the Gulf of Bataam, and in the neighbourhood of Jaub Anbak, some 30 miles to the south-west, coUeotions were made from several ex- posur^ of richly fossihferous beds which prove to be of Miocene age. These beds consist of soft white and pink marls with casts of nurnerous small shells and many well-preserved oyster shells belonging mainly to the species Ostrea latimarginata Vredenburg, although a few are referable to 0. hyotis (Linne). The moUuscan casts belong mainly to the species Diplodonta of. rotnndata (Mon- ta^) and Chmerdia papyracea (Gray), but several other species, belongmg to Myhlus, Anomia, Ohlamys, Anadara, Lucina, Oardium, Cypraea, Turritella, and other genera, are present.
bear a scar indicating growth attached to a Turritella sheU, as in a Persian Miocene specimen of the same species figured by Douglas.i A white or pink fora-
1 Contnhutiona to Pertian Palaeontology, Part 1, 1927, pi. i., fig. 2.
APPENDICES 387
mineral oolite occurs in association with these moliuscan marls.
found, and have been quarried at Jabrin, wMch appears to be situated near the south-western limit of the i>liocene gulf.
presence of 0. latimarginata and the general Kthology of the l^ds indicate their contemporaneity with the lower Ears j which are of Burdigalian-Helvetian (i.e.. Lower to
mddle Mocene) age. Beds of the same age have recently been found at Kuwait. At J aub Anbak the f osshM erous beds are over¬ lain by red sandstones which may also belong to the Mocene
could be equivalent to the Bakhtiyari beds of Persia, which are Pliocene in age.
(e) Pleistocene or Holocene. — Superficial Lacustrine or River Deposits.
m. Philby’s discovery of superficial deposits with freshwater sheUs at numerous locahties in the heart of the desert is of great mterest, since they inchcate that less arid conditions formerly prevailed there. At Ziqirt the deposit consists of a fairly compact calcareous rock, and at Hawaya of an equally compact but more arenaceous rock ; in both of these rocks the shells (mainly Melanoides tuherculata (Mufier)) are represented only by their external moulds. A soft calcareous surface rock, from Khillat Hawaya, contains small Planorbis shells. At other localities, notably Shuqqat al lOialfat and Abu Muhairat, the sheUs occur in considerable quantities loose and in a good state of preservation. As Mr. G. C. Hobson and Major M. ConnoUy show in their report, all of these shells appear to be referable to living species ; hence there is unfortunately no evidence as to the precise age of the deposits.
In conclusion it must be recorded that Mr. Philby’s collection of fossils has been generously presented by His Majesty the King of the Hijaz, Najd and its Dependencies to the Geological Depart¬ ment of the British Museum (Natural History). It is hoped that it be possible to publish more detailed descriptions of the fossils elsewhere. In drawing up the above report I must ac¬ knowledge the help of Miss H. M. Muir- Wood, Dr. L. P. Spath, and Dr. H. D. Thomas in determining respectively the brachio- pods, ammonites, and corals.
3. FRESHWATER SHELLS.
Mr. G. C. Robson of the British Museum writes as follows :
Major M. Connolly has now concluded the examination of your Arabian shells and I enclose his list of stations with the names of the various forms found at each.
388
THE EMPTY QUARTER
The faima represented is a typical Syro-Mesopotamian assem blage containing some widely distributed forms (e s merculata) which are not evidential. It has no spfciM rth more remote &u„ae, e.g. witir those of tteS Africa. One wodd say in general that it is a renL^nt;? sample of the general ‘ Wear Eastern ’ fauna. ^ ®sentative
a statistical analysis will not yield anv results because we do not know enough of the modem local fauna to say how sigmficant any pecuharities observable in your forms may be. So far as we are concerned the fauna is founa ^ shows no significant deviations from the modern
^ fact is the occurrence of the Unio which un
a good and permanent watei
3?tion f ^ “°dern dis¬
tribution. The C^bicuU IS also evidential. It is said to be char
aoteristicaUy fluyiatile and its presence indicates something more than marshes, ditches and smaU streams. ^
List oi’ Aeabiak Shells Collected by Mb. Pbelby . Locality. 8j>ecies.
1. Bir Eadhil - . Melanoides tuberculata (Miill.).
o oi, .r 1 T., , Oorbicula cmssula Mouss (?)i. ’
. oini(5[(jat al Khalfat TJnio t^TmiThalis !Bfft ^
3. Numaila - - Unio
Bulinus truncatus {Axidi.),
-WeL (Miill.).
’’ „ small.
Gorft. cm55^6Za Mouss. (?).
Bui. truncatus (Aud.).
Lymnaea lagotu Schrank (?)3. Fragments, possibly Unio.
5, Oypraea sp.
7. HadhatabuKhasliba Mel. tuberculata MiilL, medium size.
juy., probably lagotis.
Mel. tuberculata
» Onlv within the limits of this variable species.
SyrxAn^/ but aU are apparently laj/oJis, the common
4. Raqqat al Shalfa -
5. Tuwairifa
6. ‘Ain Sala
8. Abu Mubairat
9, Abu Sabban -
10. Kldllat Hawaya
11. Kimida -
12. Wadi Ranya -
APPENDICES 389
Unio terminalis Bgt.
MeL tuberculata, large and small.
Corb. crassula Mouss. (?).
Planorbis cf. corneus (Lin.).^
Mel. tuberculata, smallish.
Corb. crassula Mouss. (?).
Mel. tuberculata, highly sculptured. Mel. tuberculata, small.
Planorbis sp. (?), a deformed single specimen.
In various boxes (unlabelled but from Abu Muhairat) are the same shells over again, the most interesting being two or three good specimens of BuUnus truncatus and the best Lymnaeas, though small at that. *
There is nothing from which to date the coUection geologicaUy, as aU the species appear to be still existent in the Near East, but the presence of the Unionidae and, to a less extent, the Corbicu- ndae and Lymnaea proves the presence of a plentiful supply of Iresh water, probably rivers or lakes, in the district where these species have occurred.
N.B.— The above remarks, kmdly made at my request by Maior Comolly (who Identified the specimens) in coUaboration with Mr. Robson, should be read as relating to the general importance of mv coUection of freshwater shells from the Rub' al Khali, and not as a final, authoritative contribution to the literature of the subiect. ^e question of the full significance of these freshwater shells from the Arabian desert is still engaging the active consideration of the experts. It may be of interest to add here that all the flint imple¬ ments found in association with these freshwater shells on the sur¬ face of a gravel-strewn alluvial sofi are of Neolithic (or possibly later) provenance. No Palaeolithic flints were found by me anv- where in the Rub' al Khali.— H. S‘J. B. P. ^
iMost of the shells from Arabia are peculiarly deeply umbilicate for this mdespread species, but it is extremely variable [vide Germain in Eec. Indian Mnseum, vol. xxi.) and, as it is recorded as of frequent occurrence m Asia Minor although not from Syria or Palestine, there is no reason to doubt its occurrence in Arabia.
390
THE EMPTY QUARTER
C. OSTRICH EGGS.
REPORT ON SOME STRUTHIOUS EGG-SHELL PRAf<ivn5.AT-ro
By Percy R. Lowe, B.A., M.B. (Cantab.).
The struthious egg-shell fragments collected by Mr. Pbilbv at yanous locabties on his journey across the Rub‘ al KhaH resolvp themselves m^to two categories, viz. : (1) those which are definitelv recent and which, except for the loss of the very high superficial pohsh of the skin,’ have the colour and smooth appearance which synacus, the Syrian Ostrich, naturally possess ■ and (2) those which are fossilized or mineralized, and hwe been stained various colours ranging from almost chocolate-brown with a shade of mauve in it, to a cafi au lait tint. Besides the very distmetive coloration of the fossilized fragments there is a very conspicuous bevelling of their edges from wind-swept sa.nrl erosion.
This bevelling has taken place at the expense of the superficial or outer surface, and in the case of the Shuqqat al Khahat frag¬ ment extends inwards from the edge for a distance of four nulh- metres. In addition to this bevelled condition and the peculiar stamng, aU the fossilized fragments also exhibit a very high sand- P® ® ^ an5rthing, most marked on the outer surface
and the high glaze in almost every instance overlies a slightly roughened, or excavated, surface. My coUeague, Mr. Campbell bmith, regards this latter as etching caused by the action of dew It IS cunous to note that the two series of definitely recent shell- ttagments belongi^ to category (1) were collected at Mahadir bumman and Bani Ma’aridh respectively : that is to say, at the R^'ShS towards the end of Mr. Philby’s journey across the
the sheU-fragments collected in the middle stages were very e m e y more mineralized, deeply stained, and almost invariably rendered thinner, sometimes very much thirmer, by a longer ex¬ posure to sand erosion.
coUected at Mahadir Summan were helon^d to one single egg, and it is interesting to note that the Syrian Ostrich has not been seen (so Mr. Philby mderstood from his escort) in this part of Arabia for forty or ^y years. It seems to be practicaUy certain that both the rwent and fossil senes belonged to the same species of Ostrich ■ synacus), nt it is suggested here that the fossilized series may
appendices 391
belong to an older horizon, possibly corresponding to a period coeval with the old land surface before its submergence by sand.
Psammornis~A Giant Struthiom Bird,
A notable exception as regards specific distinction must be made howevei, in regard to a fragment cofiected at Shuqqat ai ilhalfat. This had a thickness of 3*0 mm, as contrasted with the least worn of the recent shell-fragments which varied from 1*9 to 2*1 mm. In dealing with the relative thickness of egg-shells this represents a comparatively enormous difference, and there can be no doubt in my mind that it belonged to an egg which very greatly exceeded in size those of S. syriacus. As regards thickness it approaches typical fragments of Psammornis rothscMMi (3*2 mm.), collected between Tuggourt and El Oued in Algeria by Pothschild and Hartert, and described by Andrews as belonging to a new genus of fossil Ostrich.
Microscopical examination of sections cut from the fragment found by Mr. Philby in Arabia agree in all particulars with similar sections cut from fragments of Psammornis egg-shells collected in Ageria. Moreover, the peculiar greyish-brown staining of the Arabian fragment corresponds exactly with a fragment found in Ageria. The only conclusion, therefore, at which I can arrive is that the very large struthious bird known as Psammornis also inhabited Arabia.
The Arabian egg-shell fragment was discovered by Mr. Philby in an old river bed in about Latitude 22° N. at a spot where fresh¬ water shells were found. Lord Pothschild informs me that the Algerian fragments were collected by him on an area of ground which had been recently denuded of sand hills by violent wind storms and on which some old wells had been discovered. They were found on the surface in the immediate vicinity of the wells.
This extension of the range of Psammornis is interesting in that it suggests that, during the period in which that genus flourished, there was a much more extensive land connection with Northern Africa than now exists ; while the fact that the Psammornis egg¬ shell fragment was found in association with freshwater Mollusm seems also to suggest that it was a member of a fauna which occupied the old land surface of Arabia before it was overwhelmed by desert conditions.
I have recently described^ struthious egg-shell fragments collected in red ffipparion clay (Lower Pliocene) in Northern China of a species apparently belonging to the genus Btruthio,
^ Palaeontologia Sinica, 1931, vol. vi., fascicle 4, pp, 1-40, pts. 1-4. figs. 1-2.
S92
THE EMPTY QUARTER
From the same deposit I described the pelvis of an Ostricli tn which I gave the name Struthio wimanL The egg-shell fracrmo i- of the Pliocene Ostrich, which was very oonsidffabty l^TS the Recent Ostrich, averaged 2-6 mm. in thickness. kvL £ weathered out of clay they had undergone little or no erosion £ atmospheric agents, whereas the Arabian egg-shell fragments^ considerably sand worn ; so that we may surmise that theater fragments were originally much more than 3-0 mm. in thickn» • from which I conclude that Psammornis must have been at least, half as large again as the Recent Ostrich i ’
I may add that the eggs of the Northern African Ostrich (8 mmelus) ra,nge, according to my measurements, taken with a Vermer scale, from 1-8 mm. to 1-9 mm. in thickness.
In a subsequent letter Dr. Lowe, in answer to enquiries from me urm+e as follows : (1). It is curious that you raise the question whether ’p mornU might really belong to the ?o™-a fosTii
strathious genus confined so far to Madagascar— because I have alreadv raised this question (Proc. Zool. Soc., 1928) already
Lambrecht considers tMs hypothesis to be supported by the discoverv fa fossil bone (the tarso-metatarsus of a three-toed Struthiouidl m thi
*■“
the present state of our lack of knowledge always
relations between Psammornis^ and the StseM dffi^tewT“tT • Therefore I should not like to commit
but I believ'e there cIL^£litt1f do^kS from ob™lo^w r d T*®’’ 'e ^ knowledge derived
birds in general wSUotoSkes^^^^^^^
th^tedVcSnoSibWef'' Darfur, for example, not one of
round except durino- +>£ f water, dew included, all the year
toM me mSL I™ five or, ^at most, six rainy months.* Bites
dew, and clothes can Kp Southern Sahara— -no water, no
could go for an indefinite Jme whh£ dri^g"®^® and*ther?is’a qui'sti^a’s could have got plenty of water,
inhabitant of the ma^s of lake! “
APPENDICES
393
D. ^SINGING SANDS.’
Db. VAuaHAiT COEKISH has kiiidly snppHed the following obser¬ vations after a conversation on the subject with me :
About my idea that the big noise of sands in the desert may be due to reverberation upon a gliding plane within the dune, I send you this note to supply something that you can refer to at your convenience.
My idea of the mechanism— an idea to be tested locally— is that, as the surface sand grains on the loose, steep, lee slope of the dune roll down as the result of any slight disturbance, they engage and entrain those immediately beneath, and these in turn entrain those under them, the disturbance deepening ; and all the while the noises which the sand grains make increase, but have a con¬ fused character. At last, however, a definite plane is reached where the propagation downward of the disturbance ceases ; and that this under-surface should be definite and plane, or nearly plane, seems natural enough when one recalls the fact that sand which remains long under pressure acquires a considerable degree of fijxity, without the presence of any cementing material.
The change from a confused noise to a steady roar which you noticed, I attribute, subject to some crucial test, to the passage of the superincumbent sand over this sloping floor. That such internal planes of gliding occur in the movement of soil of a clayey nature I know from my observations of the great landslides in the Culebra Cut of the Panama Canal. I even collected specimens of the surface of the gliding plane which were grooved and polished by the relative movement of the superincumbent material.
As regards the point which you mentioned, namely that you felt the sand below you sucking at your foot, and at your hand when plunged into it, at the time when these movements and noises were going on : an explanation occurred to me shortly after our conversation. In the paper which I mentioned to you by G. H. Darwin (Min. Proc. Inst., C.E., vol. Ixxd. (1883), pp. 350-378, Oti tJiQ Horizontal Thrust of a Mass of Sand) it is stated that, before the sand slipped, the grains elbowed each other aside so as to assume a more open order than that in which they had been packed. If the same thing happened when the sand of the dune started sliding, the air of the interstices would be rarefied by expansion ; its pressure would no longer be equal to the superincumbent pressure of the atmosphere, and so the foot or hand immersed in the loose, upper layers would be pressed down by the atmosphere which was entering to fill the partial vacuum.
These are the ideas which have occurred to me from my recollec¬ tion of work done a good many years ago ; but, remembering
THE EMPTY QUARTER
394
another writer besides Osborne Reynolds and G H Harrm t looked up a paper by C. E. S. PhiUips in Proc Rov ' W I
p. 742 (Lecture. February 11th. 1910) Se abt^.ft mental lecture which I attended. This not only of O,bome Eeynold-S work on
original experiments by Major PMllins in wbinl,^^!! ul • a ratrlk* oo^d and iyi diS^iStte SS t (with differential movement) of sand in a dasq ^ T • ^ the experiment. I think, with a view to eSTaiiS ;b. desert, as distinguished from sea-beach sands this at the time of our conversation, when ^our obsSioS up the memory of what I had seen on a lame scale on tb^ P &nM. Major Phillips’ experiment has already tested and nro^H the Idea that sand can emit a definite note Xn the Ss flow upon a ghding plane; I think that the observation! Xj I many o us have made of this changed consistency of the sand at a certam depth, supplemented by the weU-estaSS f!!t ! ifoseTn&i'’lX'^ earth-slides as exempliSd by
X! ■ ^ supplement to his exnerf
!^SeTrf existence of fuch
existence, of a plane of gliding in desert sands which roar.
E. MAMMALS OF THE RUB' AL KHALI.
(With acknowledgments to Captain J. G. Dommak of the British Museum.)
S SL' 1 specimen from Shanna.
Abal ^ from ‘Ain Sala and
orMv iinJd r tire one
7a ° . Iry Bertram Thomas, and may need descrin
(aLmo ** «”“•
(tobic^^V: 'SS.) * *1“*“'“ “"d Jabrin.
"’"'““l' (Arabic
) te Gazelle. Several pairs of horns. (Arabic name : Him.)
appendices
E. BIRDS OP THE RUB' AL KHALI.
395
By N. B. Kinneae,
Of the British Museiiiii.
This smaU coUection made by llr. PMlby is of considerable in¬ terest smce it not only shows what birds inhabit the Rub' al TCha.]! but also the species which cross these inhospitable sands en route to their summer breeding quarters.
Certam of the specimens obtained, more especially those in- habrfmg the edge of the desert proper, are winter visitors from lurther north. It is of considerable interest to note that of these rmgratory species five have been obtained in the British Isles though only a§ very rare stragglers.
(1) Arabian Stone Curlew (Karwan) : Burhinus cedicnemus Mus. 2 specimens from Jaub Ba'aij and Salwa (January 11th). Others seen at ‘Ain Sala and Khillat Hawaya. This bird is resident and not uncommon in Southern Arabia, extending into ‘Iraq and Southern Persia.
(2) Macqueen’s Bustard {Hubdra) : Ohlamydotis undulata rn^'ueenii. 1 specimen from Hadida (Wabar) (Pebruary 4th) Others seen at frequent intervals m Rub' al Khali. Pound from
Soutii Russia to Turkestan and Raiucliistan. It migrates south, in the muter to India and Arabia and occasionally wanders to Western Europe, having been observed in the British Isles on four occasions.
(3) Sparrow Hawk {8habbut) : Accipiter nisus nisus. 1 speci¬
men from Anbak (January 12th), where a pair was observed. This is the common Sparrow Hawk of the British Isles, Europe and parts of Siberia. It passes through Arabia on migration in spring and autumn. °
(4) Scops Owl (Qubaisa) : Otus scops scops, 1 specimen from Hidbat al Earsha (March 13th). A small owl was heard but not seen at Shama (February 22nd). This little Scops Owl is widely distributed in Europe and Western Asia. It is a winter visitor to Arabia and Africa, as far south as Uganda. It is a rare wanderer to Great Britain.
(5) Eastern Desert Wheatear (U mm Ghurair) : Oenanthe deserti atrogularis. Specimens from Maqainama, Tuwaiiifa and Sa afij (January 24th to February 2nd), and frequently observed at many points during the journey. According to Major Ghees- man this is the most plentiful Wheatear foimd in Jabrin during the winter. Colonel Meinertzhagen also recorded it as common at Aden. This Desert Wheatear nests in Central Asia and passes south in winter to N. Africa and India, many wintering in Arabia. Stragglers have occurred in Orkney and Kent.
396
THE EMPTY QUARTER
(6) Arabian Pied Wheatear (Bijri or Da‘^n\ ■ tx. ■,
a mnter visitor to Arabia, and also passes thrS “ Sv?®? • ^ spring and autumn. ^ougn on migration m
s«ss
in waterless deseS TS^i observed (?) at Sabma
to mate out L certain to SrfceSwS W
SftoSiS wTt °'
»d M„:xE4^sn: 2°mf"'rr‘ <“t““‘!?^> ^e” £'s^'kr‘-‘r «
w^‘ ?
(13) Desert Lart^ff ’ Baluchistan.
from Jafura (Janw“ Uthi 1 specimen
-d -ia> f«rth„
APPENDICES 397
{Ghurab) : Carvus corax ruficollis. 4 specimens ^om Jabrm, Numaila and Hadh Paris (January 21st
observed passim. The BroTO-nwked Raven ranges from Western India to N. Africa and is widely dis¬ tributed m ^abia penetratmg far into the deserts. As a rule it is found m pairs and breeds early in the year. Cbeesman took a nest m tHe Jafura district on February 13th and JVIr. Philbv found three young in a nest at Numaila on January 28th.
action to the above-mentioned birds which are duly authenticated by identification by Mr. N. B. Kinnear, the fol-
(H^‘J B ^P ) taking been observed by me
(a) Eagle {‘Aqab) ; probably the Abyssinian Tawny Eagle—
Aqmla rapax raptor,
{b) Vulture (Nasr) : possibly the Egyptian Vulture— Neon W
percnopterus,
(c) A species of Hawk—? Harrier {Abu Haqab).
(d) Cream-coloured Courser {Daraja or Darjalan) : Cursorius cursor cursor (identified from a specimen from near Riyadh and apparently the same as the birds observed in the Rub' al Khali).
(e) Aucher s Shrike {Srad or Suraiti) : Lanius excubitor aucheri. One seen at Shanna and apparently the same as a specimen shot at Qai iya in Najd.
if) Hoopoe {HudJiud). One seen in Sanam (February 4th).
(g) Swallows (Abu Kihusaifan, ltiqai‘i). Two seen on separate occasions in the midst of Rub' al KhaH on January 27th and March 6th. Plentiful at Sulaiyil.
G. REPTILES.
(Identified and listed with notes by Mr. H. W. Pabkeb of the British. Museum.)
1. LIZARDS.
(a) OecJconidae.
(1) StSTiodactylus sthenodactylus Liclit. 5 speciineiis frotia Dafina in Central Najd. This species has not been recorded from Arabia proper, but only from Sinai, Palestine, Syria and North Africa.
(2) Alsophylax blandfordii Stranch, 5 specimens from Eub^al Khali. Has not been recorded before between the Hadhramaut and Egypt.
(3) Herrhidxictylua persicus AiidBTQom 1 specimen from the Hasa ( ? ) . As the name implies, this is a Persian species, extending
398 the empty QUARTER
Arabian record is from TJ.f t
(Major Cheesman).
^^^<^'^dactylus major Parker. 2 specimens from Rub' al (6) Agamidae.
(1) Phrynocephalus maculaius Anderson. 11 snecimen® f- Rnb' al lOiab. This is a sand-dwelling form.
R,!v arabicus Anderson. 33 specimens from
analogue of the preceding species. ^ ^ ^ steppe)
(3) Agamajayakari Anderson. 1 specimen from Rub' al RJiaJi
(c) Lacertidae.
cantoris Gunther. 5 specimens from Rub' al Khah. These are mtermediate between the sub-species arahicus (Aden to Hadhramaut) and blandf ordi (Persia) . Bertram Thomas
karaS.’ ^ specimens showed any intermediate
CN'.B.--As my specimens all came from the Rub' al TTha.K he tween Jabrin and Shanna, the Great South Desert woul^eem to form a bridge between the two races.— H. S^^J. B. P.]
(2) Acanthodactylus scutellatus audouini Bouleneer 7 sueci mens from Rub' al KhaH. umenger. / speci-
Riib' boskianus asper Audouin. 1 specimen from
(4) Acanthodmtylus sp. n. (?). 1 ^ from Rub' al Khah
(5 Erem%^ bremrostns Blanf. 1 specimen from Rub' al Khah Khah <^^ram%tana Boulenger. 4 specimens from Rub' ai
{d) Scincidae,
2. SNAKES.
S ^derson. 1 specimen from the Hijaz.
3. EBOGS.
^ specimens from the Hasa.
appendices
399
H. INSECTS.
1. BEETLES (COLEOPTEEA) OF THE RtTB‘ AL KHALI.
By K. G. Blaie,
Of tile British Miiseiini.
fh iiaturaUy predomiaantly
The Tenebrionidae, which include 60 out of 67 specimens are represented by 7 out of a total of 11 species, onlyTnTo? wh?ch ( esosfena pumticoUis Sol.) is at all widely distributed, being a common Egj^tian and Arabian insect. Pour species were not represented m the British Museum coUeetion untd coUected recently by m. Bertram Thomas in the same region. Two of these four, Teriiyria thomasi Blr. and Pimelia arabica Klug supsp. thomast Blr., were then described as new. The remainiiTg
SscXr® T? a Rhytmota, are apparently un
£ +W^'^ extremely interesting larva that may
S a ^pita sp. Unlike most Tenebrionid larv® it
flattened, and mth mmense claws. It is evidently a mighty bTOower probably descending deep into the earth. The larv® of the subfa^y Sepidiinae appear to be completely unknown. The stout, cylmdrical yellow larva, resembliag a large wire-worm would perhaps be turned out when digging for water.
Apart from Tenebrionidae, the most interesting beetle is the Dynastid, Temnorrhynchus sp., which may also prove to be un- described. •' r u
A list of the beetles as so far provisionally identified is appended.^
(a) Tenebrionidae {Desert Beetles).
(1) Apentanod^ pMbyi sp. n. 1 specimen from ‘Ain Sala.
(2) Bnodius octocostata PQyQT. (45 specimens).
(3) Erodius reichei All. 2 specimens from Bani Jallab
(4) Tentyria thomasi Blr. 9 specimens (Madara to Haifa).
(5) Rhytinota deserticola sp. n. 1 specimen from Tuwairifa
(6) Mesostenapuncticollis Sol. 8 specimens (Shanna and Haifa)
(7) Ptmelw ara6ica Klug, subsp. iAomcwi Blr. 1 specimen from Marbakh abu Laila.
1 For a detailed list of the Tenebrionidae captured by Mr. Philby with descnptions of new species, see Blair, K. G., in Ent. Mo. Mag., Ixix. (i933).
400
THE EMPTY QUARTER
(6) Bupreatidae.
Psiloptera mimosae Klug. 1 specimen from Abu Khasbba A rather distinct form obtained also by Mr. Bertram Thomas. ’
(c) Dermestidae.
Dermestes frischi Klug. 1 specimen from 'Ain gala. One of the ' bacon-beetles ’ of almost cosmopolitan distribution It feeds on dried carcases.
(d) Hybosoridae,
Hybosorus illigeri Rche. 1 specimen from Buraika A species of wide distribution in S. Europe and Africa, and extendins eastwards to India. ^
(e) Dynastidae,
Temn^rhynchus sp. 4 specimens from Bir Fadhil, Bani Jallab, Qa'amiyat and Hadh Hawaya,
2. BUGS (HEMIPTERA HETEROPTERA) OF THE RUB*
AL KHALI.
By W. E. Chika, M.A.,
Of the British Museum.
{a) Pentatomidae.
ChroanthaornatulaK.S. 1 specimen from Numaila. Previously recorded from Arabia (Hadhramaut) by Theodore Bent. Also recorded from many countries of S. Europe, N. Africa and Asia between Spain and Turkestan.
(b) Cydnidae.
Amaurocoris orbicularis Jak. 1 specimen from Qa'amiyat. Recorded from Turkestan and Arabia (Bertram Thomas, 1930).
(c) Capsidae,
(1) Laemocoris sp. n. 1 specimen from 'Ain Sala. Allied to L. zaruduyi Reut. from Persia. This genus is distributed from fepam, Algeria, 'Egypt and Persia to Turkestan.
pallida Rent. Bani Zainan. This species is new ^ the British Museum collection. It was known only from Turkestan. ^
{d) Belostomatidae.
(l) Hy^ocyrivs mlurnbiae Spin. (Giant Water Bug). From H^uf . Previously recorded from the same locality by Cheesman. ^o recorded from Masqat and from several African countries
from Algena to Abyssinia and Mozambique.
401
appendices
3. BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS (LEPIDOPTERA) OF THE
BUB‘ AL KHALI.
E^nm deeper of tlie
Entomological Department, British Museum.)
(a) Butterflies,
land\uttr?2^ Biley (originaUy described from Somab-
occurs m Syna, Iraq and Aden as tcU as in Sind and Egypt)
mr;Zr?"“ Adraj-about a score of others Sat
many localities m district of iU Rimal.
(2) Pyrameis Cardui. 1 specimen seen near Faifa but not taken.
(6) Moths.
Sphingidae Macroglossa stellatarum. 1 seen at ‘Ain Sala but not taken.
Agrotinae CUoridae veltiaera Scliiff Specimens.
Agrotinae CUoridae peltigera Sciiiff.
” . Euxoa saracenica Tams
Hadeninae Scotogramma trifoUi Roths
Erastranae Tarache hortensis Swinh.
Catocalinae Leucanitis cabylaria B. Haas
^ , .r . -^"^ydrophila ? sp. n. near simiola Pan^ UpLidermae Anumeta stramineata B. Haas
” ? sp. n. near sjpatzyi Roths
» ? sp. n. near cestis Menat
3j ? sp. n. near hilgerti Christ.
• sp. n. near spilota Ersch.
. . T athorhynchus exsiccata Led.
Lasiocampidae Chilena ? sp. n. near geyri Roths
Anerastxinae
J3
Phycitinae
3 3
Larentiinae
Saluria ? sp. n.
33 ? sp. n.
Lardamia biformis Roths Heteregraphis ? sp. n.
33 ? sp. n. near costabella
Ancylosis ? sp. n.
Ortholepis ? sp. n.
Eupithecia ? sp. n.
CIA i ♦ ’’ * 1
feterrhinae Evis ? sp. n. 6
N.B.— It is worthy of note that, of the 180 moths listed above and representmg 25 species, no fewer than 16 species, comprising 1 o4 moths, cannot for the moment be referred to any known species.
urt er study may reduce the suspected number of new species but it IS evident that the Rub‘ al Khali has developed a strikingly pecuhar lepidopterous fauna,
2o
402
THE EMPTY QUARTER
4. FLIES (DIPTERA) OF THE RUB‘ AL TTTTAt,!
(With acknowledgments to Miss Aubebtin of the British Museum ) (a) CalliphoridM.
(1) Rhynchomyia callopsis Loewe. 1
(2) 3 (rf a creature, probably referable to the genus Arabs from Bam Zaman. Miss Aubertin says ‘ she has never seen anv thing hke these before, and does not quite know what to make of them.
(6) Tachinidae.
1 specimen of an unidentifiable Tachinid.
5. GRASSHOPPERS (ORTHOPTERA) OP THE RUB‘ AL RTTATp (With acknowledgments to Mr. B. P. Uvabov of the British Museum.) (a) Mantidae.
W EremiapMla laevifrons, Uvar. A single adult from Shuqqat al Khalfat, and numerous indeterminable larvae, perhaps of the same species, from six widely scattered locahties. Originallv described from Masqat. ® ^
but only one immature specimen collected from Naifa. ^
(b) Acrididae,
(1) ScMstocerca gregaria, Forsk. Desert Locust from five localities in Al Eimal.
Specimens
Uvar. 1 specimen from Shuqqat al Jlhalfat. Described from Masqat and also taken by me at Jidda.
6. WASPS, BEES, ETC. (HYMENOPTERA) PROM THE RUB‘ AL KHALI, COLLECTED BY MR. PHILBY.
By Mr. Hugh Scott,
Of the British Museum.
So for as it is possible to draw conclusions from the material southern Palaearctic forms, with little or no Ethiopian or Oriental affinity. It is noteworthy that one widely spread species of ant is represented in the Rub' al Ebab by a variety previously recorded from Syria {i.e. Palaearctic), but in tbe ^ara Mts. by a subspecies widely distributed in Tropical ^rica. Tfos may indicate a certain line of division between the launas of the southern coastal mountains of Arabia and the desert to the north of them. But as many of the species are represented by smgle or very few specimens, and can only be referred to their
genera, -mthout more precise determination, it is risky to generalise
appendices 403
(a) Ichneumonidae (Ophioninae)
2 i specimen.
and Ha^ayr^Thi?doL?aS®''%^r“
British Museum species in the
(6) Braconidae (CheloniTiae)
PJianerotoma sp. 1 from Madara.
X Bumenidm.
(bolitary true wasps )
Oiynerua sp. near 0. /oncofo Sauss. 1 from ‘Ain Sala.
/C! 1-.^ r Pompilidae {PsamTnocharidae)
prSSh5“S.r^ *'“’7
(1) ^tyderes sp. 1 from Bani Jafnan.
( ) Pompilus sp. near P. platyaeantJius Kohl. I from ‘Ain Sala.
(^) Bcoliidae.
Jects a^fwJtLri^narir"^ T^T
Cockchafer type bu/thfr ^ tiie
to here.) ^ ^lie genus referred
fro^^Suchfrtan ^'^7^sptei^enr/aU^ f recorded
Wabar, Shanna, Naifa aSTa Wat^^r^ T are fully ^ged and, pTeltb^ood short-mnged and probably quiteLlble to fly.’
, , , ., (/) Pees.
specimen from
(g) Ants.
E».% ae »».e .PbUiea ™ .^rSb^BirSCSb;
(2) 5e««or6«rWL., subsp.5min«/Ma Andre var moricen,
Santschi. 3 workers from Tuwaiiifa. This fo^
S^roSerbyBtrfraTSS^^
Abyssinia. the“s^:r^S
404
THE EMPTY QUARTER
(3) Crematogaster {Sphaerocrema) sp. 7 females from Bir Fadhil, Madara, Abu Khasbba and Hawaya. This species, un¬ fortunately indeterminable in the female sex alone, was also ob¬ tained by Bertram Thomas in the Rub' al Khali. The venation of the forewings is abnormal, the discoidal cell being absent ; and it may eventually prove necessary to create a separate subgenus or genus for this species.
(4) Crematogaster (Acrocoelia) auberti Emery, subsp. jehovae Forel. 2 workers from Bani Zainan. This subspecies was pre¬ viously recorded from Palestine.
(h) Termite,
A single dilated individual of the winged caste from Bani Zainan — ^indeterminable without more material.
J. FLORA OF THE RUB' AL KHALI.
(With acknowledgments to Mr. J. Ramsbottom, Keeper of the Botanical Department, British Museum.)
Arabic Name.
Abal -
Adhir
Alqa
Andab
'Aqul
Arfaj
'Arrad
Arta
Birkan
Dha'a
Scientific Name.
- Calligonum sp.
r Artemisia monosperma Del. XArtemisia scoparia Waldst. and Kir.
- Dipterygium glaucum Decne.
- Gyperus conglomeratus Rottb.
/ Prosopis stephaniana Kunth. \Prosopis sp.
f Francoeuria crispa Cuss. \Bhanterium suaeveolens Desf .
“ Calligonum comosum L’Herit.
- Fagonia glutinosa Del.
Lasiutus Tiirsutus (Forsk.) Boiss.
Dhanun (Dhanun or Idhnun) Phelipaea lutea Desf.
Dhumran Duraima Fani Ghadha - Ghaf - Hadh - Halam - Hamdh - Harm - Harmal - Rhn -
Traganum mudatum Del.
Fagonia cretica L. (also Fagonia mollis Del.]
? Arthrocnemon fruticosum Moq.
Phragmites communis Trin.
Cornulacea monacaniha Del.
? Zygophyllum album.
Rhazya stricta Depone.
Tamarix^p, Cf. T.articulata Vahl.
KMs (Kliisa) - Kurraish Markh. - Namas - Nussi Qarnua - Qasab - Qataf -
appendices
Dwarf palm.
J uncus maritimus Lam.
Aristida sp.
Br odium bryonifolium Boiss. Graminea indet.
405
Pamram
Rimdli - Sabal; Sa'dan - Salam -
Samr
Sarh. {Sarha) Shinan - Suwwad Tarfa Tarthuth Thamam Thullaith Zahr -
europaeum Tar. tenuiflarum (Guss.)
Heliotr opium lignosum.
Eeliotropium sp. aff. Uspidum Forsk.
\heliotropium sp.
■ Aristida sp.
■ N eurada procumbens L. f Acacia asah Wilid.
) Acacia fiava Sciiweinf.
I Acacia lacta P. Br. (pods).
\Acacia tortilis Hayne (branch).
Maerua uniflora Vahl.
? Seidlitzia rosmarinus Bunge.
? Suaeda vermiculata Forsk.
Tamarix gallica L.
Cynomorium coccineum.
? Graminea sp.
Halapeplis perfoliata (Forsk.) Bge.
Tribulus macropterus Boiss.
K.
LOCALITIES, HITHERTO NAMELESS, TO ^KH NAMES WERE ASSIGNED BY THE EXPEDI-
(1) Rau^at al Rumh (in Summan, near Maqainama)— bronze arrow-head found here. '
_ (2) Raqqat al Shalfa (in Al Rimal, north of Numaila)— flint implements found.
(3) Shuqqat abu Nahar (in Al Rimal, south of Numaila)— bushy pasture land.
(4) Bn- Maqran (near Tuwairifa)— buried well in gravelly
vaUey bed. & j
(5) Bir Mukassar (near western edge of Bani Mukassar tract)— buried well in gravel patch.
(6) Bit al Makhfi (west of ‘Ain Sala) — exposed rock in sands and suspected buried well.
406
THE EMPTY QUARTER
(7) A1 Sailan (near ‘Ain Sala) — exposed rocky patch nos<!iWTr
site of forgotten weU. ^ ^
(8) A1 Manifa (near ‘Ain Sala) — ^prominent rooky hillock in
horseshoe hollow of sands. ^
(9) Bir Jafnan (at northern edge of Bani Jafnan tract)—
buried weU. '
(10) Unini_ al Qurun (south of Bir Jafnan)— conspicuous ex- posure of white gypsum.
(11) Umm al Sahanain (south of Umm al Qurun) — two flat circular exposures of gypsum.
(12) ^ Umm Tina (north of Shanna) — exposure of gritty alluvial soil with flint flakes and fragments of stony meteorite.
(13) Abu Muhairat (at western edge of Al Qatarat)— laree
deposits of freshwater shells. ®
(14) Abu Sabban (west of Abu Muhairat)— deposits of fresh¬ water shells.
(15) Wadi Hawaya (in Hadhat al Hawaya)— a series of four valley-like troughs with exposures of the rock-bottom.
(16) Bir Hawaya (in Khillat al Hawaya) — suspected buried well.
appendices 40-
L. LAND ALTITUDES IN RUB' AL KHALI.
readings l^the staff^of and hypsometer
be regfrdS Is prSlS Society, should
above sea-level - = below sea- level ? = estimated altitude
Altitude in feet Sea-level.
+ 425 + 470 + 420
+ 250? :
Sea-level. l
+ 140 <
~ 20 ^
+ 140 ,
- 5 ,
+ 120
+ 225 ]
+ 450 (
+ 510 1
+ 560 £
+ 415 ]
+ 450 I
+ 570 + 635 + 670 + 615 + 585 + 680 + 850 + 775 + 855 + 800 + 600 + 765 + 590 + 680 + 660 +785 + 600 + 790
Locality.
'Uqair.
Hufuf.
Qasr Dulaiqiya.
Bir Nabit.
Ba'aij wells.
Salwa.
Qarn Abu Wail.
Sikak.
Abu Arzila weU.
Anbak.
Judairat well.
Hafair ibn al Adbam well. Qadba well.
Wadi Sabba.
Surr al Maid.
Birkan weU.
Ellin village.
Jabrin (Umm al Hamad).
Qasr ibn Dabbasb.
Hafair wells (Jabrin basin) Dbarbun summit.
Qaliba well.
'UJ weU.
Bir ibn Jubaiyim. Maqainama well.
Bir Eadbil.
Sbuqqat al Elialfat. Humaila well.
Tuwairifa well.
Wabar craters.
Earaja well.
Umm al Hadid well. Ibrabima well.
Majari Tasrat valley. Majari Ma^sbiya valley. IQiillat Judair.
Remarks, on coast, town.
camp at +325. on coast.
top of isolated bill at foot of above.
bed of estuary.
camp in cbannel, in cbannel. camp at + 580?
(Major CJieesmarfs alti~ -■^ude for this locality +
foot of ridge + 550?
shell deposit.
408
THE EMPTY QUARTEE
Altitude in feet. Locality.
+ 730 ‘Uruq Bard JaUab.
+ 525 'Ain Sala well.
+ 510 Naif a well.
+ 555 Ziqirt well.
+ 925 Umm al Qurun.
+ 960 Umm al Tina.
+ 925 Shanna well.
+ 910 Bir ibn Suwailim.
+ 930 Mamura weU.
+ 940 ^ Zuwaira well.
+ 960 Tnraiwa well.
+ 1080 Qatarat.
+ 980 Abu Mubairat.
+ 1195 Hibaka Qa'amiyat.
+ 1050 Abu Sabban.
+ 1230 Abal Kbadim.
+ 1340 Kbillat Hawaya.
+ 1280 Hadbat Hawaya.
+ 1450 Qasbat Hawaya.
+ 1350 Kbillat Hawaya.
+ 1110 Kbillat Adraj .
+ 510 Haifa well.
+ 1110 Eiillat Adraj .
+ 1010 Bani Zainan.
+ 1280 Hadbat Hawaya.
+ 1085 Hadbat Hawaya.
+ 1145 Sabma gravel plain.
+ 1360 Bani Ma'aridb.
+ 1345 Abu Babr gravel plain.
+ 1645 Abu Babr gravel plain.
+ 1870 Eumaila sand downs.
+ 1900 Jiddat al Farsba.
+ 2125 Farsba cbannel.
+2135 Sulaiyil.
Bemarhs.
camp.
gypsum exposure, exposure of bed-rock.
eamp on sandy downs, shell deposit, camp on downs, shell deposit, camp on downs, camp on downs, camp in depression, camp on downs, camp on downs, camp on downs, see above, camp on downs, camp on downs, eastern edge, western edge, true desert surface, camp on downs, eastern edge, western edge, western edge, camp on steppe, camp, oasis.
N.B, Where different altitudes are given for localities of a smgle name they refer to camps in different parts of the aa.mA region.
APPENDICES
409
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410
THE EMPTY QUARTEB
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411
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Abal B
— Sba
— shrr
27^
— tea, — ’Uri ’Abba«.
’Abd, a — ibn ;
—, Kh{ ’Abdul
’Abdull of ; - j
- M
- ]s
- T
— , Kbs — Shai 156 334 ’Abdul ; ’Abdul
q.v.
Ablutioi
- Wi
Abraha Abraq il Abstiuei Abu ’Af:
— Babr
316,
341,
— Dhab
— Dhuli
— Khas!
— Humi
— Huua
Glul
— Muba
— Sabbi Abyssini Acacia (’
— {Salm
INDEX
(N.B, All long vowels only are marked.)
Abal Khadim, q,v.
• Ska r section of Manasir, q,v.
— shrub, uses of, 171, 195, 227
278, 279
— tea, q»v.
77, al (dune-range), 134 Abbas, JBandar, xx ’Abd, al (hillock), 60
— ibn Mani’, q.v.
- — , Khaur al (estuary), 60, 67 ’Abdul ’Aziz ibn Musainid, a.v,
- - Sa’ud, q,v.
Abdullah ibn Faisal (one-time ruler of Najd), see Sa’ud
- Jiluwi, q.v,
- Ma’addI, q.v.
- Nadir, q.v.
- ~ Thani (shaikh of Qatar), 169
— , Kliaur (Khor), 224 — Shaikh (the Author), 28, 64, 65 156, 212, 235, 266, 298, 321 334, 342, 350
’Abdul Latif (servant), 4, 5, 25 Abdul Rahman ibn
q.v. *
- Khuraibish, q.v.
- ^ — Suwailim, q.v.
Ablutions with sand, 24, 77
- water, 15
Abraha the Abyssinian, 363 Abraq ibn Jaffa!, q.v.
Abstinence from water, q.v.
Abu ’Afina, ’Arq (dune -range), 144
— Bahr (gravel-plain), 86, 124, 139,
316, 318, 323, 335, 336, 337, 341, 343, 344, 346 Dhabi, 48, 125
— Dhulu’, Ramlat, 247
— Khashba, q.v.
— Humaidh (well), 125
— Hunaik, nickname of
Glubb, q.v.
— Muhairat, q.v.
— Sabban, q.v.
Abyssinia, xxi, 363 Acacia CAqul), 97
— (Salam), 100, 124
Captain
Acacia {Samr), 100, 352, 353, 354, ^ _ 355, 356, 358
(legendary King of 96- 157. 158, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 175, 176, 177
— Shaddad (see foregoing), 158 — , Bar (in Hadhramaut), 176 Qusairat (in Aflaj), 158 Aden, xxi, 184 ’Adites, 176, 177 Adhaiman, Qasr ’Uwaida ibn, 98 Adh^ (of Buhaih), ibn al, 70 Adhba (clan of Murra), al, 53, 135 Adhir, ’Arq al, 22 ’ Adhwa = ’ Adwa, q.v.
Adraj (wells), 194, 198, 199, 200, 201, 211, 263, 300, 302 — , Hamran (dune-range), 198, 201 KhiUat, 201, 281, 282, 303, 305 al (palms), 91, 92, 100,
Aelius Gallus, xviii Aeohan, 20 Aepyornis, see Ostrich Aerodrome (aeroplane), 134, 197, 204
’Afair, ibn (of Murra), 64 ’Afar ( =0phir, q.v.), 177 Afian ( =Evian), 291 Afja, al (channel), 100 Adaj (province), 121, 124, 125, 139, 140, 147, 148, 158, 160, 236, 262, 304, 330 Africa, 329
Ahmad Khan, Haji, 179 ^qaf (sand-desert), 128, 129, 132 Ahsa, al, see Hasa Aidh ibn ’Uzra, q.v.
’Ain al Nifl, q.v.
— ibn Marshad, q.v.
— Sala, 170, 181, 186, 187, 191, 192, 194, 195, 196, 198, 199, 201, 202, 203, 211, 229, 285, 288,292,300
- ^,Hadh, 190, 201, 202, 281,
282, 284, 303
’Ajaimi, Sha’ib, see Sahba
41.3
INDEX
Ajlan (rock-caves), Qusur ibn, 72 ’Ajmaix (tribe), 10, 43, 81, 130 — , ’Arqa section of, 10 — , Ibn Jim’a section of, 10 ’Alam (mountains in Naid), 79 Alarm, 229, 230, 248 A1 Bu Shamis (tribe), 78 ’Ali ibn Dabbash, q,v,
- Salih ibn J ahman, q,v.
- of Buhaih, 10, 35, 189, 226,
229, 288
— , King (of Hijaz), xx Alluvial soil, 138, 141, 144, 149 Altair, 274, 279, 297 Altitude, see Sea-level America, 179, 180 Amhaj, see Humaid Ammon, xvii, 164 ’Amr, Bani, section of Subai’, q.v. Anbak (oasis), 6, 20, 45, 50, 57, 58, 59, 60, 62, 63, 64 —, Jaub, 58, 60, 61, 66, 139 — , Khashm, 55 Anchor (of ship), 51 Andaila, Bashid ibn, 91 Aneroid, 47, 148, 271 Animistic rites, see Wizardry Anglo-Persian Oil Company, 123, 291
Antares, 77
Antiquities, 117, 121, 134, 138, 158, 175, 177 Ants, 403, 404 Apes, 177
Aqfa, al {Saluqi bitch), 105, 112 168, 170, 193, 210, 220, 239, 247, 289, 297, 300, 302, 312, 322, 334, 344 Aqueduct (Kariz), 99, 100 Arabian Nights, 115, 132, 158, 164 Araif (sand- tract), 22 ’Araira (in Hasa), 30 Arba*, Jabal (ridge in Hasa), 8 Architect, 91 Arcturus, 352 Arfaja (wells), 243, 244 ’Arma (plateau), 20, 30 ’Arqa section of ’Ajman, q,v.
’Arq abu ’Afina, q.v,
’Arq al Adhir, g.?;.
— — Grhadha, q.v.
- — — Ghanam, q.v.
— al Bammak, g'.v.
— — Sabat, q.v.
— Numaila, g.-u,
’Ars, Sha’ib al (in Aflaj), 147
Arsenical soap, 55, 220 Artillery, 53, 81, 84
Arzila, abu (wells), 57 — , Jaub abu, 45, 54, 55, 56, 58
^zila, Khashm abu, 55 Asal (well), 87
Ash’ab al Ghaf (valley in Oman^ ’Ashaiyir, Khar^at II (welZ 39 Ashanti, ^ee Bosumtwi Asia, Central, 138, 175 ’Asir (province), 249 Aspirin, 17, 74, 75 Ass, Wild, 28, 78 Assiut (Egypt), 329 Assuan (Egypt), 119 Atmosphere, luminosity of, 315 323 * *
’Atsa (well), 87 ’Atshan (dune-tract), 31 Aubar ( =Wabar, q.v.}, 167, 158 Aubertiu, Miss D., 402 ’Auj =(?) ’Uj, q.v.
^Awamir (tribe), 34, 77, 159 Awariq, al (dune -ranges), 317 31 s llllizf 323, sV’sIsI’li:
’Aziz, see Salih — , Bir, 84, 87
Azma, Suwld ibn HadI al (guide) 10, 56, 57, 74, 82, 88, 91 92, 93 109, 110, 112, 113, 127, 131 132, 143, 163, 167; 162 170 172, 184, 233, 236, 264, 267 300, 302, 308, 309, 312, 313’ 316, 322, 333, 335, 337, 338,’ 347, 348, 365, 356, 357, 358
Ba’aij (wells), 39, 42, 44, 48, 55 — , Jaub al, 42, 66 — , Khashm al, 42, 43 Badawin (Badu, Baduwi), 16, 17, 21, 26, 27, 30, 31, 32, 35, 36, 37, 41, 42, 50, 61, 60, 65, 67, 75 86, 100, 101, 103, 115, 118, 121, 122, 126, 127, 129,1130, 131, 132, 136, 137, 142, 149, 158, 163, 166, 168, 170, 173, 177, 193, 197, 199, 201, 207, 227, 249, 250, 279, 317, 318, 322, 328 Baden water, 2.
Badger, 78 Badr (in Hijaz), 204 Baghdad, 44 Bahath (wells), 31 Bahrain, xx, 3, 4, 6, 14, 25, 47, 177, 178
— , Gulf of, 41, 43, 48, 49 — , tumuli of, 177 Bahraniya, al (one of the camels), 14,20,26,29,30,46, 302 Bainha (well), 212
INDEX
415
Ba’ir, Hawaya ( =Karsh al), 337 , Karsh al (dune-tract), 337 Ba’ja (on coast of Persian Gulf) 7Q Bandar ’Abbas, q.v. ’ ^
Bangles, glass, 14, 97, 101 li^
Bani ’Amr section of Subai’, q.v,
— Fazran, q.v.
— Hajir, q.v.
— Hilal, q.v.
— Jafnan, q.v.
— Jallab, q.v.
— Kathir, q.v.
— Khalid tribe, 179 — Khuwairan, q.v.
— Ma’aridh, q.v.
— Mukassar, q.v.
— Kasir, q.v.
— B/iman, q.v.
— Sufyan, q.v.
— Zainan, q.v.
iSky ^ Ghafraa), 213
Basra, 5, 224
Batha (well in Wadi Sahba), 79 Bathing, ^ee Washing Batina (district), 57 Beacon, 94, 252, 276, 355, 356 Beads, 97, 102 Bear, Great, 309, 352 Bees, 402-404
Beetles, 62, 83, 116, 134, 145 Belch, 232 Bid’ al Haifa, q.v.
Bigotry, 363 Biltong {see Meat), 292 ‘ Bin KakhM bin Shaikh-el-Hurra’
= ( ?) Hamad ibn Hahhab, q.v. BmociJars, 149, 153, 193, 215, 248 Bir al Makhfi, q.v.
- Habit, q.v.
- Qusaiyir, see Ba’aij.
— Tawil, see Ba’aij
— ’Aziz, q.v.
— Fadhil, q.v.
— Hadi, q.v.
— Hawaya, q.v.
— ibn J uhaiyim, q.v.
— — Suwailim, q.v.
— Jafnan, q.v.
— Maqran, q.v.
— Mukassar, q.v.
Birds, 12, 54, 65, 68, 102, 113, 124 **• 169, 170, 188, 193i
198, 229, 255, 275, 305, 357, 359,363,396-397 Bird-trap, 12, 363 Birk, Sha’ib al, see Sahba
Birkan (well), 8^, 88, 90,
-, Shuqqin 1^2,
Biscuits, 5, 12,
Bxsha, Wadi, l2, 363
Blair, K. G., 399, ^3®,
Blunt, W. S., and Lady Anne, 199 Boiling Point Thermometer, 148
Bombay, 5
Boots, 17 £ IRQ
Booty, division Boracic powder, /O Bosumtwi (in Botching, 145, 237,
Bowels, disturbance of 195
Brand-mark
Bread, 12, 358, 362, 363
Bronze Age, 140
— arrow-head, 121, 124, 163 Budu’, Hidbat al, 83 — , Jaub al, 85, S7, 88, 89, 100, 110 Bugs, 400
Buhaih section of Murra, q.v. Bunaiyan (well),
Buqaih (subsection of Ghafran), 135 Buqum (tribe), ^2 — , Harrat al (lava-field), 52, 363 Buraika, Hidba, 133, 134 Buraimi, 28, 77
Burton, Sir R. F-, H^, 132, 158, 164 Bushire, 178
Bustard, xsdi, 8, 30, 36, 58, 63, 64, 72, 113, 133, 173, 202, 220, 222 Butterfly, xxiii, 36, 99, 183, 184, 201, 210, 247, 249, 251, 253, 255, 271, 281, 303, 308, 317, 360, 363, 401 Buwah (sand-tract), 185
C
Caernarvonshire, 207 Cairo, xviii
Calcareous rock, 250, 260, 277, 310.
345, 380-383 Caliph, 44
Camel, xix, 3, 4, 5, 10, 11, 13, 22,
23, 25, 26, 27, 31, 33, 35, 43
44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 52
57, 59, 63, 67, 68, 70, 71, 72,
74, 78, 79, 82, 95, 100, 101, 111, 112, 114, 126, 131, 145, 146, 154, 161, 173, 183, 197, 198,
87, 88, 92, 94,
125,
144,
153,
172,
193,
210, 212, 215,
104,
121,
133,
150,
163,
185,
199,
216, 218,' 2U,
105,
122,
137,
151,
166,
189,
201,
110,
124,
138,
152,
170,
192,
206,
416
INDEX
225, 226, 229, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 244, 245, 246, 250, 252, 253, 254, 256, 261, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 269, 271, 272, 273, 275, 276, 277, 284, 286, 288, 289, 292, 293, 294, 297, 299, 300, 301, 303, 304, 308, 309, 311, 312, 314, 316, 319, 320, 321, 323, 324, 325, 3^, 328, 329, 330, 332, 333, 337, 338, 340, 342, 343, 344, 345, 346, 350, 353, 354, 356, 357, 358, 361, 363, 364 Camel, birth of, 273, 276, 282, 283 — , Dara^lya, 28, 78
— drinks sea-water, 48
— , endurance of thirst by, 46, 117, 122, 170, 239, 267, 272, 275, 286, 325, 326, 327, 328, 332 333, 340, 353 — , flatulence in, 276, 283 — , gelding, 11, 329 — , male, 329
roilch, 11, 59, 258, 268, 271, io: 343’
— “ilk. 17, 18, 27, 146, 188, 258,
268, 271, 273, 275, 278, 279 281, 305, 309, 315, 320, 321, 822, 323, 324, 330, 333, 335, o40, 345
— paths, 40, 47, 48, 50, 70, 84, 112,
116, 121, 134, 148, 160, 340, 356 — , Bamltyat, 11, 78, 103, 145, 221
— ntog, 13, 24, 29, 45, 59, 232,
329, 334, 339
— . ‘ ’ of. 267, 273, 328,
332, 333, 338, 346 — , sunstroke in, 261, 277, 280
— ticks, 67
— , ’ Vmamya, 11, 23, 78. 329 — , Usaifir, 78 — , value of, 59, 182 — , water in cud of, 306 — , Well-, 82, 136, 170. 361 Campbell Smith, W., 120, 174, 194, 371-383 *
Canopus, 206, 217 Caravan route, 71, 72, 80, 93, 121 124, 125, 148, 159, 160, 163, 164 Cardamum, 11, 278, 280 Carmathdau, 15, 97 Cartridge (used as pipe), 76 Cams- Wilson, C., 208 Cassel (Germany), 326
Cat, Wild, 78, 150, 173
Caterpillar, 276
CaMo:npson.7Miss Gertrude. Cattle, 359, 362
Cavalry, 43 Cemetery, 136, 226 Centaur, Constellation of. 334 Charity, 362 Chat, Desert, 345 Cheesman, Major B. E., xix u 34. 35, 40, 45, 47, 49, 60 7^’ 72, 73, 79, 80, 82, 88, 9o’ 91’ 93, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, I19’ 120, 122, 128, 129, 158 Chicago, Field Museum at, I79 Mdren 64, 104, 105, 142, 362, 363 Chma, W. E., 400 Christian, 73, 77, 150, 172, 197 Circumcision, female, 81, 82 Clothing, change of, 292, 293 Clouds, 32, 56, 64, 69, 109, 112, 114 134, 285, 286, 287, 293 295’ 296. 297, 300, SOh Sol; 303 304, 305, 306, 308, 309, 31l’ 326, 334, 341, 343, 345 349’
^ 350, 351, 352, 356, 357 ’
Cochrane, Squadron-Leader the Hon. R. A., 197
Coffee, 10, 11. 12, 18, 30, 44, 56, 61. 63, 75, 76, 83, 88, 104, 122 146, 150, 187, 188, 192, 195, 197, 210, 211, 217, 218, 221 226, 230, 238, 245, 251, 252 254, 256, 260, 263, 265, 269 274, 279, 280, 281, 284, 286, 294, 299, 301, 303, 305, 309, 317, 320, 328, 329, 334, 336 340, 341, 343, 344, 345, 352, 353, 354, 357, 358, 361 — ceremonial, 347 Colic, 363
Compass, 52, 71, 81, 91, 172, 201,
^ 264, 338, 350, 351, 353
Concubine, 157, 165 Consumption {Sill), 92 Cornish, Dr. Vaughan, 208, 393, 394 Courser, Cream-coloured, 37 Cox, L. B., 383-387
Major-General Sir P. Z., 128, 170
Crater, Meteorite, 165, 166, 167, 168, 174, 178, 180, 365-369 Cretaceous, 20, 86, 385, 386 Curlew, Stone, 44, 49, 54, 55, 63, 198, 251
Curzon, Lord, 207
Dagger, 161, 233 Dahbash, Qasr ’Ali ibn, 101, 102 Dahbuba (well), 212 Dahna (sand-belt), 86, 125, 138. 330, 331, 344,348
INDEX
417
Dakhiia (Libyaa oasis), 57, 326, 327, 328
Dam (Wadi Dawasir), 249 Dara'lya, see Camel Darb al Falaji ( Jabrln- Aflai road), 125
- Sa’i (Hasa-Qatar road), 41
Darin (? Darain) island, 177 Dates, 11, 12, 44, 86, 93, 114, 118, 137, 169, 188, 197, 238, 252, 256, 261, 269, 270, 288, 289, 303, 304, 305, 309, 315, 317, 322, 323, 324, 328, 329, 333, 334, 337, 343, 345, 349, 354, 357, 360 — , Khalds, 11 Daugha, Huqna, 222 — , KMlla, 222 — , Ramla, 222 Danha (in Qatar), 49, 57 Dawasir (tribe), 13, 74, 82, 221 — , Wadi, xviii, xix, 7, 127, 129, 134, 138, 158, 164, 194, 216, 228, 236, 239, 249, 262, 294, 324, 330, 352, 353, 356, 358, 360, 363 Deneb, 274 Desert-craft, 142, 237
- sense, 66, 69, 71, 135, 168, 172,
286, 338
Desiccation, 98, 140, 141, 163, 175 Dew, 56, 64, 69, 77, 80, 96, 116, 171, 181, 301, 315
Dhafra (district), 57, 77, 84 Dhahira (district of Oman), 28, 57 Dharbun (MU), 95, 100, 101, 110 DM1 Qa'da (month of), 314 Dhow (Arab sailing-ship), 48 Dhruma (oasis), 10, 263 Dhnfar, xxii, 231, 233 Dhnhur, al (sand region), 337 Dhumaidan (well), 87 Dhuwaiban, Qasr (ruins), 14, 15, 49, 102 Dialect, 34
Dickson, CoL H. R. P., 73 Dimnan section of Murra, q.v^ Diorite, 119, 120 Divorce oath, g.v.
Doctor, 4, 52, 15, 145, 347 Dollar =Eiydl,q.v,
Dollman, Captain J. G., 173, 193, 394 *
Dolmen, 46, 99
Dragon-fly, 70, 186, 201, 203, 247, . 251, 253, 255, 276 Dreams, 134, 164, 165, 195, 295, 334, 341
Drought, 46, 70, 104, 113, 115, 122, 137, 142, 144, 149, 150, 169,
'2i>, ■ ■
181, 190, 195, 244, 250, 259, 267, 270, 271, 306, 315, 329, 332, 340, 360, 362
Dulaiqiya (weUs and palms), 5, 7, 9, 12, 13, 46, 239 Dummy (shepherd), 38 Dung, camel, 23, 36, 44, 66, 70, 71, 118, 136, 142, 169, 172, 173, 199, 221, 276, 346, 347 — , gazelle, 308, 311, 332, 356 — , Oryx, q.v.
— , sheep, 15, 16, 358 Duru’ (tribe), 28, 78 " Dust-devil,’ 338 Duwish, Faisal al, 5, 224 ‘ Duxon,’ see Dickson Dye-pit (see Aba! ), 227, 246, 279
E
Eagle, 60, 70, 71, 138, 212, 220, 250 Education, 35, 142 ®gyp^ (Egyptian), xviii, 11, 116, 140, 163, 175, 329 Eigg, Isle of, 208 ‘ Elephant, year of the,’ 363 Eleusis, 164
Empty Quarter, see Rub‘ al Khali Engineer, 52, 84
England, 99, 114, 139, 144, 180, 207, 326
Eno’s fruit salts, see Salt Eocene, 20, 61, 86, 228, 386 Epsom salts, see Salt Erosion, see Weathering Estuaries (see Jiban), 194, 224, 228 Eimueh, 157, 165
Europe (European), xvii, xxii, xxiii, 88, 115, 123, 128, 163, 291 Evian, see Afian ‘ Evil eye,’ q.v.
Exodus, 116
Eye, see Sight and Ophthalmia — , EvU, 346, 347 — powder, 136
. ■ F ' ■
Fadhila (weU), 137, 154 FadMl, Bir (wells), 121, 122, 127, 134, 135, 137, 139, 143, 147, 148, 154, 163, 170, 228, 236, 262, 288, 294, 304, 319 Fahad ibn ’Isa, 22, 26 Faisal al Duwish, g.t?.
— ibn Husain (King of ’Iraq), 5
— - — MuradhdJiaf, g.t?.
Falcon (Saqr), see Hawk Falih abu 5a’sha,
Falsetto {see Song), 324
418
INDEX
Farafra (Libyan Desert), 327 Faraj (of ’Uwair), 169 — , Jabir ibn (of Biibaih), xix, 129, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 164, 311 Faraja (well), 137, 154, 160, 161, 168, 169, 170, 172, 264 Hibaka (tract of sand moraines), 182, 256
Farazdaq (poet), 95 Fardat al Khin, q.v,
Farlian al Ruwaiya, q.v.
Faris (well), 185 — , Hadh, 185, 186 Farraj al ’Arqani (member of expedition), 10, 31, 38, 58, 60, 66, 76, 131, 138, 149, 185, 189, 193, 200, 202, 203, 207, 210, 211, 215, 216, 218, 219, 221, 229, 230, 251, 253, 254, 255, 257, 260, 264, 266, 274, 275, 287, 294, 297, 298,- 299 Farsha, al (Wadi Dawasir), 356, 358, 359
— , Hidbat al, 348 — , Jiddat al, 346, 348, 356 Faruq, Wadi, 7 Fasad (dune-tract), 160 Fasam, Ummbat al (palm- tract), 98 Fasl, Jabir ibn Salim ibn, 103, 104, 105, 106, 109, 126, 161, 196, 218, 226, 236, 330, 331 ~ Sa’id ibn, 161, 169 Fast, see Ramdhan — , volimtary extra days of, 57 Fat, 273, 282
Fathom (Arab), 24, 37, 44, 47, 57, 70, 71, 87, 96, 100, 112, 115, 117, 121, 125, 142, 147, 169, 171, 182, 183, 194, 199, 243, 244, 245, 246 Fatima, Wadi, 13 Fazran, Bani (dune-ranges), 284 Feast-day, see ’Id Fennec, ^ee Fox
Fertilisation (of palms), 49, 50, 53, 97
Fper, 50, 74, 89, 93, 96 Finance, Minister of, 22 Fire, 96, 163, 165, 166, 221, 226, 269, 273, 275, 279, 281, 282, 283, 285, 294, 299, 300, 301, 309, 331, 334, 336, 340, 345, 346, 347, 354, 357, 359 Firewood, see Fuel Fischer, Theodore (publisher), 326 Fish, 38
Flatulence, see Camel Flies, 402
Flint implements, 51, 52, 93, 101, 111, 115, 138, 139, 140, 141,
144, 147, 149, 151, 163 17^ 213, 223, 245, 248; 249!
Flora, 404, 405 Flour, 11, 358, 360 Fodder, 83, 134, 199, 314, 325 32s 329, 340, 341, 344, 345, 353 ’
Fog 7, 9, 56, 57, 64, 109, 184, 185 Food, 42, 53, 95, 125, 150, 168 187 232, 238, 249, 265, 278,' 279' „ 284, 293, 302, 305, 315, 329 ’
Forbes, Rosita, xx, xxi Ford car, 48
Fossil, 12, 14, 20, 49, 51, 52, 5^ 55, 61, 64, 65, 66, 106, 139, 172 201, 260, 330, 383-387 — springs (see Jifdara), 99 Fox, 20, 62, 63, 71, 78, 95, 113, 134 150, 170, 173, 193, 198, 202^ 218, 223, 251, 255, 312 France (French), xx, 214 Frankincense, 160 Franks, the, 77, 351 Frost, 19, 27, 32, 55 Fuel, 25, 31, 67, 83, 210, 212, 217 279, 336, 338, 340, 341, 344 346
Fulgurites, 199, 202, 260, 369, 370 Fuqar, al (sandy downs), 337
Gardner, Miss E. W., 99 GazeUe (see Rim), xxii, 8, 37 78 104, 110, 121, 170, 189, 292! 313, 324, 325, 332 Geese, 1 97 Genesis, 73
Geographical Society, Royal, xix 174
Geology, 19, 20, 61, 99, 117, 140, 193,318,371-389 German, 114, 326 Gerrha (see ’tlqair), 3, 121 Ghadha, ’Arq al, 137 Ghadhawat ibn Huqai, q.v.
Ghafa, al (gravel-tract), 31 Ghafran section of Murra, q.v. Ghanam, ’Arq al, 134 Ghanim ibn Juraib, q.v.
Ghar al Jaul, 90 Ghazala (ridge). 111 ^
Ghubaiya (palms), 92, 112 Ghubba, al (palms), 98 Ghuraba (palms), 94 Ghuwaiba (sandy plain), 8, 15 Ghuwainim al Zahri (ancestor of Manasir), 77
Glare, 173, 182, 255, 276, 317 Glass, 14, 160
INDEX
419
Glass, Silica, q.v.
Glubb, Captain I. C., 73 Gold, 84, 177
Good news, announcement of, 282 Granite, 119, 120, 121 Grasshopper, 251, 402 Grave, see Cemetery
Gravel, 8, 16, 18, 19, 21, 30, 31, 36, 37, 38, 39, 42, 62, 67, 69, 70, 71, 74, 77, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 88, 90, 93, 112, 115, 120, 124, 125, 133, 134, 135, 137, 138, 139, 141, 144. 145, 147, 148, 151, 164, 169, 170, 172, 250, 256, 316, 317, 318, 319, 320, 323, 324, 325, 329, 332, 335, 336, 337, 338, 340, 344, 345, 348, 352, 354, 356, 358, 376-379
Great South Desert =Rub‘ al TThaii q.v.
Greek, 73, 177 Grinding-stone, see Mortar Guarantors (Sulum), 196, 230, 233 Gudea, King of Lagash, q.v.
Guides, 4, 6, 10, 16, 21, 28, 40, 41, 73, 79, 91, 92, 98, 109, 137, 138, 142, 143, 150, 153, 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 165, 175, 181, 183, 196, 201, 211, 212, 225, 230, 233, 235, 238, 243, 244, 249, 254, 264, 267, 274, 275, 277, 284, 285, 299, 302, 350, 351, 352, 354, 355 Gum-boils, 75, 76 Gun, see AxtHLeTy
— , Shot-, 24, 33, 49, 63, 144, 149.
173, 186, 189, 193, 212, 229, 253 Gunpowder, 96
Gypsum (gypseous), 115, 116, 213, 218, 222, 223, 225, 226, 227, 228, 243, 245, 246, 250, 252, 291, 310
Habauna, Wadi, 176
Habl (sand-district in Hasa), 30
Hadhjregion with Hddh scrub), 131
— abu lOiashba, q.v.
— ’Ain Sala, q.v.
— Bani Zainan, q.v.
— Faris, q.v.
— Hawaya, q.v.
— Qa’amiyat, q.v.
Hadhat al Hawaya, q.v.
- Qata, q.v.
Hadhramaut (province), 7, 34, 73, 103, 127, 130, 132, 153, 176, 219, 231, 233, 234, 318
^ BadJirami (pi Hadhanm), 73 Hack, Bfr (well), 154, 215 — , Hamad ibn Sultan ibn (guide to Mr. Thomas), 21, 73, 161, 172, ^ 196, 226_, 231, 236
— ibn Shaduk, q.v.
— , Manjurat al (well), 183
— (shaikh of Ghafran), 183'
Hadid, Umm al (wells), 137, 160,
161, 163, 169, 179, 180, 198 Hadida (= Wabar), 158, 159, 161, 168, 180
Hadoram, see H.adhratnt Hafair (wells in Jabrin), 98, 100, 101, 112, 117, 127 — j^Hidbat al, 67
— Adham (wells), 69, 70, 72,
Hafit, Jabal, 28
Hail, 308, 316
Hail, year of, 195
Hajir, Bani (tribe), 6, 81
Haifa, Bid’ al (wells), 89, 154
Hamad ibn Barjis ibn Hanzab, q.v.
- ’Isa of Bahrain, Shaikh, 14
- Muradhdiiaf, q.v.
- Nahhab, q.v.
Hamam (oasis), 125, 351 Hamarir a! Thnwair, q.v.
Hamburg, see Rathjens Hamda, Ri’ al (or Mahdar), 41, 43 Hamdani, al (Arab geographer), 158 HamI (dune-tract), al, 83, 127 — , Sula’ al, 84
Hamra, al (sandy down-tract), 252 Hamran Adraj, q.v.
— Ziqirt, q.v.
Hanaish, al (Sulaiyil), 362 Hanbali (school of Islam), 77 Hanzab, Hamad ibn Barjis ibn, 53 Hara^ (wells), 34, 71, 72, 82, 214 Haraisan (gravel-plain), 125 Harasis (tribe), 34
Harbaqa (palms), 98, 99 Hare, 33, 62, 63, 66, 71, 78, 83, 89, 104, 105, 112, 113, 114, 115, 134, 141, 144, 149, 152, 154, 187, 188, 200, 202, 210, 21 L 220, 229, 244, 247, 252, 270, 282, 292, 302, 307, 308, 312, 344, 358
Harmaliya (district), 253 Harra (volcanic region), 166 Harrat al Buqum,
- - Kishb, q.v,
Hasa (or Ahsa), al (province), xisc, xxii, xxiii, 4, 6, 8, 11, 13, 14,
15, 17, 19, 20, 22, 25, 28, 30,
36, 37, 41, 44, 46, 48, 49, 50,
71, 72, 74, 80, 83, 86, 92, 93,
420
INDEX
95, 97, 103, 104, 105, 109, 119, 125, 128, 129, 130, 161, 177, 179, 186, 224, 226, 233, 234, 262, 292, 294, 298, 303, 330 Hasan ibn Halut, q.v.
— Khurr al Dbib (member of the
expedition), 10, 59, 136, 184, 187, 191, 203, 215, 297, 314 Hasana (subsection of Buhaih), 91 Hassi (wells), 355 Bauldnl, see Saddle Hawaii al Ziqirt, q.v.
Hawar, Sanam al (dune -tract), 250 Hawaya Ba’ir, q.v.
Bir, 276
— , Hadhat al (or Hadh), 131, 235, 258, 271, 272, 275, 304, 313, 314, 316, 317, 328, 343 — , Khillat, 255, 256, 275, 280 — , Qasba, 257, 272
— valleys, 258, 259, 260, 269, 271,
307
Hawiya (tract of sand and gravel), 134
Hawk (hawking), 12, 57, 60, 65, 253, 310
— ,(?) Harrier, 310
- moth. Striped ,(?), 171, 354
• — , Hurnining-bird, 198 — ■, Sparrow, 63, 310 Hazarmaveth = Hadhramaut, q.v. Haze, 43, 84, 182, 183, 184, 192, 217, 246, 306, 337, 345, 348, 354
Heber, see Hud Hebrews, see Israelites Hibaka Baraja, q.v.
— Qa’amiyat, q.v.
Hidab (dunes), 31 Hidba (wells), 87
— Budu’, q.v.
— Buraika, q.v.
— Farsha, g.v.
— Hafair, q.v.
— Talla’iya, q.v.
Hijaz, 34, 39, 177, 290, 319 Hilal, Bani, 84, 119 Hirr, Jaub al, 42, 43, 55 Hogarth, Dr. D. G-., xvii, xviii, xix,
XX, 86, 128
Holy War, 318 Homesickness, 73, 109, 276 Hoopoe, 173
Horse, 11, 43, 51, 149, 157, 165 — ‘ -breeding, 43
— -shoe dunes, 21, 22, 23, 39, 71,
134, 137, 154, 191, 192, 199, 202, 203, 210, 218, 221, 222, 243, 247, 251 Hud, Qabr, 197, 231
Prophet, 165, 197 Hudaida (Yaman), 178 Hufuf, xxiii, xxiv, 3, 4, 7, 8, 12 IQ 22, 27, 31, 37, 40, 104, 171,262* 268, 330, 343, 358, 364 "
Humaid ibn Amhaj (member of expedition), 10, 58, 59, 77 79 80, 113, 117, 120, 135, 181 188, 195, 264, 275, 277, 278 282, 283, 334, 341, 342 Humaiyid, Muhammad ibn (guide 1 10, 35, 38, 59, 69, 72, 142, 143 147, 157, 184, 201, 211, 212,* 254, 257, 258, 275, 298 Humidity, 69, 208, 309, 344, 352 Hunaim (mess of bread and sugar), 12
Hunger, 44, 55, 75, 114, 191, 215 221, 251, 261, 270, 278, 284, 286, 289, 293, 301, 302, 309 342, 344, 364
Hunting, 33, 36, 52, 62, 63, 72, 106, 112, 115, 131, 139, 152, 157, 187, 191, 210, 211, 215, 234, 236, 237, 256, 257, 265, 292, 306, 324, 330, 333, 337, 348, 360 Huqai, Ghadhawat ibn, 133 Huqna Daugha, q.v.
— Jafnan, q.v.
— Nasir, q.v.
Huqnat abu Khashba, q.v.
— al Mish’ab, q.v.
Huqsha (well), 87
Hurra ( = (?) Murra, q.v.), 179 Husain, King (of Hijaz), 318 Hyena, 15, 51, 62, 64, 113
I
’Ibadiya (sect of Islam), 78 Ibn Jim’a section of ’Ajman, q.v. Ibrahim ibn JT umai’a (Koyal Cham¬ berlain), 7
- Mu’ammar, q.v.
— Pasha fort (at Hufuf), 6 Ibrahima (wells), 154, ' 1 66, 168, 170, 187, 320
’Ibri (Oman), 28
’Id (feast-day), 184, 185, 187, 188, 192
Igneous rocks, 120, 319 ‘Ignorance,’ the, 81, 95 Ikhwan, 21, 50, 52, 53, 60, 64, 88, 89, 90, 91, 224, 244 Imam (title of Wahhabi king), 52 — - (leader of prayers), 94 India (Indian), 9, 177 Insects, xxiii, 12, 32, 36, 55, 62, 74, 76, 133, 210, 211, 217, 227, 251, 282, 359, 399-404
INDEX
Instruments, 185, 285, 350 Introducers (Sulum), see Guaran¬ tors
Iodine, 75, 76, 322 ’Iraq, 73, 184
Iron (meteorite of Wabar), xix, 153 155, 158, 160, 161, 162, 163,' 164, 166, 173, 174, 175, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 209, 365- 369
— - staple (of Qarn abu Wail), 51, 52
Iirigation, 177 ’Isa, Shaikh Khalaf ibn, 178 Ishara, Qauz al (sand-peak), 168, 172
Islam, xxi, 16, 78, 95, 185 Isma’il Pasha, Khedive, 326 Israelites, 116 Italian (Italy), 6, 214 Ithila, Umm (wells), 89, 92, 103
J
Jabal Arba’, q.v.
— Hafit, q.v.
Jabaliya (well), 125
Jabir (of Ibn Jiluwi’s suite), 22
— section of Murra, q.v.
— ibn Faraj, q.v.
— ibn Salim ibn Fasl, q.v.
- — , Qasr Salim ibn, 99, 101, 102 Jabrin, 6, 14, 15, 25, 40, 45, 50, 61, 71, 72, 74, 77, 79, 80, 83, 84, 86-106, 109, 111, 112, 113, 115, 118, 119, 120, 121, 125, 127, 136, 159, 161, 163, 186, 203, 226, 228, 230, 307, 359 Jadila (dune-tract), 207 Jaffal, Abraq ibn (iiillock), 348 Jafnan, Bani (sand-region), 218, 220, 221
—, Bir ( ? old well), 218 — , Huqna (sand-peak), 218 Jafura, 6, 10, 18-40, 41, 46, 66, 69-85, 86, 95, 118, 120, 127, 133, 157, 158, 159, 164, 183, 252, 319
JahUya (subsidiary weU-shaft — cf.
Umm, q.v.), 135, 147 Jahman, ’AJi ibn Salih ibn (chief guide), 10, 18, 21, 23, 26, 28, 29, 30, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39,
41, 42, 43, 44, 49, 50, 52, 56,
57, 59, 62, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69,
70, 71, 72, 73, 75, 76, 77, 78,
93, 94, 105, 110, 111, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 125, 126, 130, 131, 134, 135, 137, 139, 141, 142, 143, 144, 147, 149, 150,
421
|
151, |
152, |
153, |
154, |
155, |
157, |
|
161, |
162, |
163, |
165, |
166, |
168, |
|
170, |
171, |
172, |
173, |
175, |
181, |
|
183, |
188, |
195, |
196, |
197, |
198, |
|
201, |
203, |
209, |
211, |
215, |
216, |
|
217, |
218, |
219, |
221, |
222, |
225, |
|
226, |
231, |
233, |
235, |
236, |
243, |
|
244, |
245, |
246, |
247, |
248, |
249, |
|
250, |
251, |
252, |
253, |
255, |
256, |
|
257, |
258, |
261, |
264, |
265, |
266, |
|
272, |
273, |
275, |
277, |
282, |
283, |
|
284, |
285, |
286, |
294, |
298, |
299, |
|
301, |
306, |
317, |
330. |
331 |
|
|
Jahman, |
Salih |
ibn, * |
69, 113 |
Jalad = Jalada, q.v.
Jaiada (Jalida), gravel-plain, 236 256, 337
Jali’ad ( = Kin’ad, q.v.), 164 Jallab, Bani (dune-tract), 186, 256 — , Hamad ibn Salih ibn (chief shaikh of Ghafran), 169 ‘Jam Ramad’=Umm a! Ramad, q.v.
Janah Sahma, q.v.
Jarraba section of Murra, q.v. Ja’sha, Falih abu (member of ex¬ pedition), 10, 56, 74, 75, 81, 110, 111, 117, 134, 145, 162, 184, 188, 204, 219, 235, 265, 289, 295, 301, 319, 321, 322, 334, 342
J aub (estuary), see Jiban
— abu Ajpzila, q.v.
al, 60, 83, 84, 86, 87, 110, 111
— al Ba’aij, q.v.
- Budu% q.v.
- Hirr, q.v.
- Judairat, q.v,
- ’XJwaidh, q.v.
Jawamir (ridges), 93, 95, 100, 111, 119
Jerboa, 90, 93, 113, 124 Jiban, al (estuaries), 20, 40, 41-68, 69, 85, 86, 87, 119, 228, 248, 249
Jidda (in Hijaz), xvii, xviii, xx, xTrij 17, 50, 88
Jiddat al Farsha, q.v.
Jifdara (saline mound), 98, 99, 115 J ihad, see Holy War Jilida, see Jaiada
Jiiuwi, ’Abdullah ibn, xxii, xxiii, 3, 6, 11, 14, 22, 25, 29, 36, 43, 60, 103, 104, 105, 129, 153, 154, 157, 226, 233, 234, 266, 269, 289, 321, 358 — , Sa’ud ibn, xxiii, 4, 5 J^, 191, 192, 203, 204, 295 Jkha (village in Hasa), 15 Jiwa, al (or al Jua =Liwa), 57
422
INDEX
Juba, al (Jabrin basin), 86, 90, 94, 100, 103, 109, 127 Judair (well), 185 — , Khilla, 184
Judairat, Jaub al, 46, 60, 61, 66
— (wells), 66
Juhaiyim, Bir ibn (well), 113, 116, 122
— , Ibn (of Jabir), 98 Jungle-fowl, see Peacock Jupiter Ammon {see Siwa), 164
— (planet), xxii, 206, 281, 315, 350,
351, 353, 358 Juraib, Ghanim ibn, 57 Jurassic, 383-385 Juwaifa (well), 137
K
Kalut, Hasan ibn (shaikh of Rashid tribe), 7, 196 Karb tribe, 159, 196 KdrlZf see Aqueduct Karsh al Ba’ir,^ g'.-y.
Kathir tribe, Al (or Ahl or Bani), 11, 34, 159, 196
Khadim, Abal (sand- tract), 252, 254
Khafs, xxiii
Khairallah, ’Abdul Rahman ibn (Amir of ’Uqair), 3 Khaiyala (sand-ridges), 38 Khalaf ibn ’Isa, q.v.
KhaldSj see Dates
Khalfat, Shuqqat al (depression), 138, 139, 140, 148 Khalid ibn Luwai, q.v.
— , Wadi Bani, 78, 179 Khanus, Suq al (Thursday market at Hufuf ), 8
Kharija (Libyan oasis), 57 Kharima (corridor in sand-tract), 311
Khariqat al ’Ashaiyir, q.v,
Kharj, 79, 299 Khartam (ridge), 27 IQiarza (ridge), 24, 25, 26, 27 Bdaashba, Hadhat abu, 221, 222 — , Huqnat abu, 221 Khashm abu Arzila, q.v.
— al Ba’aij, q.v.
- - Khin, q.v.
— Anbak, q.v.
— Ha’aiyim, q.v.
— • Skhul=Suqur, q.v.
Khaur (Khor), 224 ’Abdullah, q.v.
— ^ ’Abd, q.v,
KMlla (region without Hadh scrub), 131, 186
Khilla Daugha, q.v.
— Naifa, q.v.
— , ’IJruq al, 134 — t Ha way a, q.v.
— Judair, q.v,
Khin, al (hamlet), 71, 88, 90, 91,
— , Pardat al, 88, 90 — , Khashm al, 90 Khiran, al (region of briny wells) 61, 129, 132, 148, 186, 198, 224, 228, 231, 233, 235, 246 291
Khisat al Salwa, q.v.
Khizam fort (Hufuf), 8 Khuraibish, ’Abdul Rahman ibn (member of expedition), 10 117, 263, 269, 276, 298 Khurma, 74, 331 Khurr al Dhib, see Hasan Khuruq, al (wells), 101 Khushum Summan, q.v.
Khuwaira (wells), 15 Khuwairan, Bani (dune -ranges), 217 ^
Killing-bottle, 90, 296 Kin’ad, see ’Ad.
King George, 150
— of the Hijaz and Kajd, The, see Sa’ud
- Wabar, see ’Ad
Kinnear, N. B., 149, 395-397 Kishb, Harrat al, 81 K^ra (Libyan Desert), xx, 327 Kut (quarter of Hufuf), 7 Kuwait, 73, 177
L
Lagash, 119
Laila, Marbakli abu (sandy pasture- land), 145
— , Salih ibn ’Ali abu (shaikh of Ghafran), 59, 145
Lake {see River), 15, 138, 139, 227, 228,245,387-389 Lamb, 358
Lamp (lantern), 68, 171, 188, 191, 251, 297
Lark, Bifasciated, 24, 138, 149, 169, 186, 255, 258, 275, 279, 284, 345
— , Desert, 30, 37, 70, 152, 203, 212, 249, 250, 253,259, 316, 325 • — , Short-toed, 141 Latit (well), 87 Latitude, 196, 197, 202, 325 Latwa (wells), 355, 356, 369, 360 Lava, 52, 165, 363 Lawful, 283
423
INBEX
Leather, 115, 136, 137, 145, 169. 193, 227, 267, 278, 290, 292, 301
— butter- jug, 281
Lees, Dr. G. M., 123, 291 Libyan Desert, xx, 57, 99, 114, 140, * 175, 326, 327, 329
Lice, 293
Lightning, 286, 287, 293, 295, 297, 306, 357
— -tubes, see Fulgurite Limestone, 8, 62, 66, 111, 112, 121.
170, 213
Lion, Constellation of, xxii. 351, 352
Liwa, see Jiwa
Lizard, 62, 83, 102, 124, 144, 229, 244, 253, 255, 257, 259, 312, 317, 347, 354, 397, 398 — , Spiny- tailed, 352 Locust, 30, 38, 39, 49, 83, 113, 145, 183, 347, 402
— -lore, Badawin, 38 London, 91, 171 Longitude, 196, 197, 202, 319 Lowe, Dr. P. R., 113, 390-392 Lucerne, 363
Luhaim, Mtdiammad ibn, 38 Luminosity of atmosphere, q.v, Luwai, Edialid ibn, 74, 331 Luxor ( = A1 Iqsar), 163
M
Ma, Rijm al (cairn), 355 Ma’abida (quarter of Mecca), 349 Ma’addi, ’Abdullah ibn (chaplain of expedition), 8, 9, 11, 18, 50, 56, 62, 130, 135, 154, 184, 200, 202, 235, 263, 324, 358 Ma’aridh, Bani (sand-tract), 86, 318, 323, 332, 333, 334, 335, 336, 337
‘ Mabaq ’ =Anbak, q.v.
Madain Salih, q.v.
Madara (sand-region), 134 Machna, xx, 50, 204 Madjub, Hajj (Rohlfs’ guide), 328 Magan (or Maganna), 119, 120, 121
Mahadir Summan, q.v.
Mahamil (desert), 127 Mahdar Hamda, q.v.
Mahmal (district in Najd), 127 Mahmid, Zubaxa (sand-ridge), 31 Mahra (tribe), 34 Ma’jaba (palms), 94 Majann (? ruins), 67, 79, 103, 120, 121
Majari Ma’shiya, q.v.
— Tasrat, q.v.
Majid (slave), 361
Majma’a (capital of Sudair), 5, 314
Makhfi, Bir al (? well), 201 Mahlka (dish of rice and Abal sprouts), 171, 196, 278 Makiniya (rock-pools), 125, 348 Maliki (school of Islam), 77 Mammals, 394 Mamura (weM), 244 Manahil (Manhali) tribe, 11, 103, 196, 214, 226, 231
Manasir (tribe), 10, 28, 33, 34, 38, 48, 49, 52, 57, 58, 77, 78, 81, 130, 132, 171, 173, 189, 278, 310
— , Abal Sha’r group of, 57 — , Al bu Mandhar group of, 10, 57
— , - Rahma group of, 10, 57,
58 _
Mandhar, Al bu, see Manasir Mani, al ’Abd ibn, 58 — , Rashid al ’Abd ibn, 49, 57, 58, 63
— , Rashid ibn, 58
Manifa (hillock near ’Ain Saia), 202
— (ridge in Jafura), 24
Manjur, al (well and sand-region), 183
Manjurat al Hadi, q.v.
Manna, 116
Manqa, al (dry swamp), 359 Mantids, 30, 37, 62, 71, 133, 170, 172, 320, 338, 402
Mantle {BisU), 249, 255, 285, 303, 316, 329
Map (Mapping, etc.), xxii, xxiii, 40, 47, 62, 71, 73, 88, 89, 91, 92, 129, 137, 140, 158, 160, 164, 168, 174, 197, 201, 211, 244, 298, 317
Maqainama (well), 6, 74, 85, 103, 109-126, 127, 134, 137, 139, 143, 146, 148, 163, 192, 228, 236, 264, 294, 319, 330, 331, 336, 346, 348
— (well in N. Hasa), 119
— , Ramla (sand-region), 131, 133 Maqarr al Suqur, q.v.
Maqran, Bir, 147 , Wadi, 140, 147, 148, 228 ‘ IMaradvath ’ ^Muradhdhaf, q.v. Marbakh (pasture-land), 35, 344
— abu L^a, q.v.
— al Sa’qa, q.v.
Marshad, ’Am ibn (spring), 97 Ma’ruf the Cobbler, see Arabian Nights
424
INDEX
Masandam (promontory), 229 Ma’shiya (well), 183 — , Majari, 183
Mashura (dunes), 32, 36, 38, 39, 67 Masqat, xxii, 77, 128 — , Sultan of, 77 Materialism, Arab, 282 Matti (of Manasir), 67 — , Sabldia, 61, 67 Ma’yuf (of Kashid), 160 Meat, 31, 57, 63, 64, 105, 109, 114, 124, 125, 146, 190, 200, 236, 237, 258, 270, 273, 278, 282, 283, 288, 289, 290, 291, 295, 299, 303, 305, 312, 314, 330, 340, 358, 363 — , Lawful, 78, 283 — , Raw, 283, 289, 291, 292, 300, 301, 302, 309, 315, 323, 328, 333, 349
— , Salted, 124, 192, 291 — , Sun-dried, 236, 291, 292, 300, 305
Mecca, xx, xxi, xxii, 4, 6, 18, 31, 48, 50, 91, 121, 166, 182, 216, 226, 234, 290, 291, 294, 295, 296, 297, 298, 303, 314, 315, 343, 349, 355, 363, 364 Medicine, 74, 75, 196, 346, 363 Mesolithic, 141, 175 Mesopotamia, 140, 175 Meteor, 206 Meteorite crater, q,v,
— , Iron, q,v.
— , ‘ Nejed,’ 178 — , Stony, 193, 199, 223, 369 Methylated spirits, 247 Meulen, D. van der, 176, 197 Midwifery, 282 Mij an = Maj ann, q.v .
Milk, see Camel Millet, 13 IMineral water, q.v.
Miniyur =:Manjur, q.v.
Minya, Salih ibn, 96, 97 Miocene, 15, 20, 51, 61, 86, 228, 386, 387
Miqlin (subsection of Jabir), 123 Mirage, 255, 320, 325, 332, 337, 338
Mish’ab, Huqnat al (sand-peak), 217 Mist, 13, 18, 19, 28, 30, 46, 56, 69, 77, 96, 105, 183, 276, 300 Mitan (dune -tract), 160 Mogadicio (Italian Somaliland), 6 Monitor lizard, 247 Monsoon, 66, 177
Moon, 18, 26, 31, 32, 68, 125, 184, 187, 206, 217, 218, 219, 251, 256, 265, 267, 268, 274, 281, 314
Mortar (grinding-stone, etc.). 1.^6 149, 278, 358 ^ ’
Mosque (of Mecca), 91 — (of Riyadh), 18 — s. Desert, 356
, Village, 64, 90, 91, 96 Mosquito, 50 Moth, Leopard, 90 —s, 113, 133, 171, 251, 278, 401 Motor cars, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 12, 25 30, 36, 48, 53, 71, 72, 205, 294 325 ' *
— roads, 8, 48, 71
— tyres (used for repairing camels’
feet), 145
Mouse (Gerbil), 7, 316, 332 Muadhdhin, 351 Mu’ammar, Ibrahim ibn, 5, 6 Mubarrazat (hills), 93, 94 Mughammidha, al (dxme-tract), 20, 23, 25
‘ Muhaimid ’ = Muhammad ibn Rashid, q.v.
Muhairat, abu (shell-deposit), 249 Muhammad, al (Sulaiyil), 362
— ibn Humaiyid, q.v.
— ibn Luhaim, q.v.
— ibn Rashid, q.v.
- Suwailih, q.v.
Mukassar, Bani (dime-ranges), 151 — , Bir (old well), 151
Mtdaiha (cliffs), 65 Mulaihat al Hadriya (well), 87
- Qibliya (well), 87
Muqshin (oasis), 77, 229, 280, 311 Muradhdhaf, Raisal ibn, 98 • — , Hamad ibn, 89, 93, 96 Murra (tribe), xix, 10, 22, 23, 24, 27, 33, 34, 35, 38, 43, 52, 53, 64, 65, 67, 70, 78, 81, 86, 87, 98, 101, 119, 129, 130, 132, 133, 135, 136, 143, 159, 160, 171, 173, 179, 180, 183, 195, 224, 226, 235, 236, 244, 311, 409- 412
— Buhaih section of, 10, 27, 31, 33, 70, 91, 129, 159
— , Dimnan section of, 10, 74, 131, 235, 244, 357
— , Ghafran section of, 10, 26, 33, 59, 72, 74, 103, 135, 136, 145, 154, 169, 213, 222, 224,''225, 235
, Jabir section of, 74, 91, 98, 101, 123
— , Jarraba section of, 103, 179, 181
Musainid, ’Abdul ’Aziz ibn, 10, 32, 168, 170, 296
Museum (ilfi^/wx/), 62 at Chicago, Field, 179
INDEX
Museum, British, 64, 81, 113, 120, 140, 149, 173, 175, 177, 178, 179, 184,193,194,227, 260 Mushaikhila (ridges), 54 Mushaimikh (sand-ridge), 348, 349 Mushammara (wells), 94, 96 Muslim, see Islam Mutaiwi (wells, etc.), 15 Mutrib (hiU), 95, 100 — (sand-tract), 16 Mutton, 363
17
hTa’aiyim, Khashm, 93 Kabataean, 176
Nabit, Bir al (weU), 4, 23, 24, 25, 33
— (subsection of Jarraba), 24 Nadir, ’Abdullah ibn, 362
— , Salim ibn, 362
Nafud (rolling sand-tract), 16, 38
— , Northern, 200
Nahar, Shuqqat abu (tract of sand and gravel), 145
Nahhab, Hamad ibn (of Jarraba), 179
Naifa (well), 104, 170, 186, 187, 191, 194, 195, 197, 202, 203, 204, 207, 208, 209, 211, 236, 262, 264, 265, 266, 267, 269, 274, 275, 277, 278, 279, 283, 284, 285, 286, 287-299, 300, 301, 304, 305, 309, 310, 311, 323, 327, 328, 339, 343, 351 — , Khilla, 184, 202 Najd (central Arabia), xx, 11, 19, 22, 29, 34, 79, 81, 82, 103, 127, 279 310 359
Najran, 74, 126, 127, 132, 176, 236, 303, 330, 331, 355 — , Nakhl ’All ibn (palms), 94 — , Wadi, 176, 194 Nakhala (oasis), 79 Nakhl ’All ibn Najran, q.v.
Nakhla, Bid’ al (palms), 90 Na’riya (one of the camels), 29, 78, 154, 277, 285, 301, 333, 342, 345, 360
Nasara, see Christian Nasir (of Ibn Jiluwi’s suite), 25 — , Bani (dune-tract), 217 — , Huqna (sand-peak), 217
— ibn Kashid, q.v.
Nasla (Libyan Desert), 327 Naslat al Tarad, q.v,
Nautan, Hamad ibn, 98, 123 Nearchus, xviii Neolithic, 140, 175 Newspapers, 171
Nifl, ’Ainal, 100
425
Nifl, al (shaikh of Murra), 195, 236, 258, 304 Nile valley, 115 Niqyan al Bir, 24 Noah’s flood, 62
Noise (while marching), see Song Nomenclature (Arab), 42, 405, 406 Nose-bleeding, 125 Nudaila =Andaila, q.v.
Nnmaiia (well), 141, 147, 148 ’Arq_, 138, 141, 173 Nuqaidan, Faisal ibn, 22, 63 — , Salim ibn, 64
Nussi, Umm al (palms), 91, 92, 100, 102, 103, 111
O
Oath, 321, 322, 333 Obar ( = Wabar), 162 Obscenity, 42
Oman (’Uman), xvii, 28, 29, 30, 57, 59, 127, 132, 159, 170, 228, 229, 232, 318, 340 Onions, 11, 239, 270, 277, 280, 338 Ophir, land of, 177 Ophthalmia, 74, 75, 81 Orion, 300
Oryx, 36, 63, 73, 78, 104, 131, 149, 150, 170, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 203, 213, 215, 216, 234, 236, 237, 248, 249, 251, 252, 254, 257, 258, 271, 275, 292, 306, 307, 311, 313, 324, 325, 334, 335, 337, 347 — dung, 134, 187, 190, 253, 258, 303, 306, 308, 332 — , water in tripe of, 306 Ostrich, 113, 114, 333, 390-392 Owl, 15, 102, 110, 352 Ozone, 114, 115
P
Paganism, 346
Painted Lady (butterfly), 36, 99, 113, 184, 203 Palaeolithic, 141, 175 Palestine, xxi
Palm (palms), 8, 9, 13, 19, 28, 43, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 53, 57, 63, 77, 79, 85, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102, 113, 361, 362 — fibre, 13 Paraffin, 191, 297, 357 Parker, H. W., 397, 398 Payment, 35, 182, 197, 200, 201 Peace, xxi, 28, 43, 103, 331, 362 Peaches, tinned, 343, 349
426
INDEX
Peacock, 177 Pearl fishing, 362
‘ Pearls,’ Black (of Wabar), 166, 168, 182
Peppermint, 277, 339 Persian Gulf, xvii, 5, 40, 48, 79, 97, 121, 128, 229, 362 — s, the, 84 Petra, 164 Philosopher, xxi, 77 Pilgrimage, 4, 13, 30, 48, 216, 294, 298, 363, 364 Pipe, 76
Pirate Coast (Trueial Oman), 48 Plant Zones, q.v.
Pleistocene, 175, 387 Poetry, xvii, 35, 59, 70, 95, 157, 175, 176, 182, 334, 337 Polaris, 196
Porth Oer (Wales), 207, 208, 209 Portuguese, 81
Pottery, 14, 49, 97, 101, 115, 121, 160
Poverty, 362, 363
Prayer, 16, 18, 24, 31, 32, 42, 44, 53, 56, 76, 77, 94, 125, 133, 146, 150, 155, 163, 188, 204, 218, 220, 230, 231, 238, 245, 251, 252, 254, 256, 269, 271, 274, 275, 277, 278, 279, 281, 285, 287, 288, 293, 294, 296, 300, 306, 309, 314, 315, 334, 339, 340, 352, 356, 357, 358 —, combination of, 16, 77 — , methods of, 77, 78, 94 — - niche {Qihla), 91, 226, 246 — , shortening of, 16, 77 Prophet Hud, q.v.
Provisions, see Pood Psammornis {see Ostrich), 114 Ptolemy, 73 Pump, Machine, 8 Punishment, 200, 255, 263
Qa’amiyat (high dune-massif), 73. 131, 215, 235, 247, 248, 249, 250, 256, 337 — , Hadh, 249
Hibaka, 250, 251, 252, 256 Qabaliyat (springs), 101 Qahr Hud, q.v.
Qadha (well), 71, 72
Qahtan (tribe), 74, 77, 81 Qalail (ridge of Qatar), 50 Qalalit (dunes), 39
Qaliba (well), 87, 111, 112
Qara (mountains), 160, 228, 311,
Qarain (wells), 37 — , Umm al (well), 182 Qariya (near Wabar), 157, 176
— (wells in Eastern Desert), 177 Qariyat al Jahiliyin (Qariya Veil on
JNajran road), 176, 355 Qarn abu Wail, q.v.
Qarradi, Qasr (ruin), 13 Qasab (wells), 87, 111, 134, 154 Qasam, al (dune-tract), 82, 83 Qasba Hawaya, q.v.
Qasima, al (sand-ridge), 172 Qasr al Khirba = Adhaiman, q.v.
— ’Ali ibn Dahbash, q.v.
— Dhuwaiban, q.v.
— Qarradi, q.v.
— Salih, q.v.
— Salim ibn Jabir, q.v,
— Tari, q.v.
— Tuwairif, q.v.
— Umm al Hamad, q.v.
— ’Uwaida ibn Adhaiman, q.v. Qata, Hadhat al, 254, 255, 279, 280,
284
Qatar, 41, 47, 48, 50, 87, 169, 198 Qatarat, al (sand-region), 246, 249 Qatif, 3, 4, 179
Qatmis, al (sand-region), 337, 346 347, 348, 349 *
Qauz al Ishara, q.v.
- Sha’diya, q.v.
Quinine, 75 Qurai, Sa’ud ibn, 98 Quraish (tribe), 34 Quran, 135, 176
Qurun, Umm al (gypsum patch),
Qusaibi, al (family), 3, 8, 129 Qusairat ’Ad, q.v.
Qusaiyir, Bir al, see Ba’aij Qusur ibn ’Ajlan, q.v.
H
Habigh, 13
Hahma, Al bu, see Manasir
E-aid (raiders, etc.), 30, 74, 77, 122, 123, 125, 135, 149, 153, 189, 191, 195, 214, 221, 225, 236, 245, 304, 318, 324, 330, 331, 340, 346, 356, 359
I^8'ida^(gravel- and sand-plain), 236,
Hain, 20, 35, 46, 66, 86, 87, 103, 111, 116, 119, 122, 125, 131, 134, 144, 170, 177, 183, 190, 208, 214, 224, 236, 244, 260, 253, 268, 269, 260, 280, 287, 293, 295, 296, 300, 301, 304, 305, 306, 307, 308, 310, 313, 315,
427
INDEX
316, 324, 325, 327, 328, 332, 335, 340, 341, 344, 345, 347 348, 352, 353, 356, 357, 359 360, 361, 363 Rakba (plain), 39 Ba’la (gravel-plain), 139, 256, 316 Ramad, Qasr XJmra al (ruins), 96, 98, 101, 102, 103, 106, 119 Bamdhan (month, fast), 12, 18, 22 26, 31, 32, 44, 45, 54, 56, 57, 61, 75, 76, 94, 109, 114, 117, 124, 135, 146, 150, 166, 171, 184, 185, 186, 187, 195 Baml, al, see Rimal Bamla, al, see Rimal
— Daugha, q.v,
— Maqainama, q.v.
— Shanna, q,v.
— Shu’ait, q.v,
— ^t abu Dhulu’, q.v.
Mamliydt, see Camel Rammak, ’Arq al, 356, 358 Ramsbottom, J., 404, 405 Ranya (oasis), 9, 324 ~, Wadi, 363 Raqqat al Shalfa, q.v.
Rashid dynasty, ibn, 72 — , Shaikh Nash ibn, 179 Rashid al ’Abd ibn Mani, q.v.
— ibn Andaila, q.v.
- Daleh = Andaila, q.v.
— , Muhammad ibn (member of ex¬ pedition), 10, 35, 152, 189, 226, 229, 256, 288, 297, 298
— (subsection of Buhaih), 33, 35
— tribe (Al Kathir), 11, 160, 196,
214, 226, 231 Ratel, see Badger Rathjens, Dr. Carl, 176 Raudhat al Rumh, q.v.
Raven, 21, 24, 66, 67, 80, 112, 113, 116, 124, 134, 141, 152, 173, 182, 186, 189, 192, 212, 250, 251, 253, 259, 271, 272, 279, 292, 304, 313, 316, 317, 325, 335
— (Constellation of Corvus), 352 Reading, 36, 135
‘ Red man ' ( = ‘ white man ’),
334
Red Sea, xvii, xxi, 38 Reeti- tubes, 194, 199 Reeds, 49, 53, 63, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102, 194
‘ Regenfeld ’ (Libyan Desert), 327, 329
Registan, S.S,, xx Regulus, 352, 358 Religion, 35, 36, 93 Reptiles, 397, 398
Revolver, 189, 193, 220, 229 Rewards, 153, 162, 181, 201, 216, 217, 219, 220, 234, 255, 270, 282, 296, 298, 299 Ri’ al Hamda, q.v.
Rice, 9, 11, 12, 19, 26, 31, 32, 45, 63, 125, 171, 217, 237, 238, 268, 269, 273, 277, 278, 280, 281, 286, 288, 290, 299, 301, 303, 349, 363
Rifle, 29, 33, 43, 66, 113, 125, 189,
191, 193, 203, 226, 229, 247, 292, 359
Rijm al Ma, q.v.
- Shuwai’ar, q.v.
Riley, N. D., 184, 401 Rim (gazelle), 170, 187, 193, 236, 253, 311, 347, 356
Rimal, al, 61, 63, 72, 73, 117, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 165, 175, 181, 224
Riman, Bani (dune-ranges), 202, 203, 209, 212
Rivers, ancient, 138, 139, 140, 147, 148, 151, 163, 164, 175, 227, 228, 232, 246, 247, 248, 249, 319, 352, 387-389
Riyadh (capital of Najd), xxi, xxii, 4, 18, 19, 34, 50, 72, 214, 262, 294, 295, 296, 298, 299, 330, 351 Biydl (dollar), 11, 31, 58, 65, 82, 105, 162, 197, 215, 216, 219, 234, 235, 249, 360 Robson, Dr. C. C., 387-389 ‘ Roc ’ (see Ostrich), 114, 392 Rohlfs, Gerhard, 78, 114, 326, 327, 328
Rub‘ al Khali (the Empty Quarter), xvii, xviii, xix, xx, xxi, xxii, xxiii, 6, 7, 10, 22, 25, 37, 48, 54, 69, 73, 86, 95, 103, 104, 105, 109, 116, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 138, 139, 140, 148, 151, 157, 159, 164, 175, 177, 178, 179, 181, 184,
192, 203, 207, 208, 214, 224, 227, 234, 235, 243-286, 300. 361, 362
- - Kharab ( = Khali), 132, 164
Ruins, ancient, xix, 3, 14, 47, 49, 50, 53, 60, 64, 67, 81, 86, 95, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 115, 120, 140, 155, 156, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168, 172, 175, 176, 177, 232, 359, 360
Rumaila (sand-belt), 86, 336, 337, 338, 344, 346 Rumh, Raudhat al, 124 Ruwaiya, Farhan 361, 362, 363
428
INDEX
8
Sa’Mij (sand-region), 152, 154, 156, 182
Sa’ar (tribe), 11, 34, 135, 196, 221, 231, 233, 250, 304 Sabaean, 176
Sabat, ’Arq al (dune-range), 144 Sabban, abu (shell-deposit), 252 Sabkha, al (salt flat in Hasa), 9, 15
— (salt flats of Jabrin district), 88,
89, 90, 92, 93, 94
— (salt flats of Jiban district), 43,
46, 47, 48, 50, 53, 55, 60, 61, 66, 67
— Matti, q,v,
Sa’d al Yumaini (of King’s retinue).
— ibn Ibrahim al Washmi, 10, 20,
74, 184
- ’IJthman, see Sa’dan
Sa’dan (servant), 5, 8, 9, 10, 12, 17, 29, 31, 45, 54, 56, 114, 129, 135, 154, 162, 185, 188, 189, 200, 204, 205, 210, 218, 220, 232, 234, 249, 263, 264, 269, 273, 277, 278, 281, 294, 295, 305, 314, 315, 320, 322, 333, 343, 348, 349
Saddle, 10, 17, 20, 45, 91, 94, 249, 276, 279, 281, 302, 312, 341, 342, 359
Saddle-bags, 5, 13, 29, 54, 166, 238, 301, 315, 320, 341, 343 — , Hauldnl (Oman), 29, 59, 185 — , Najdiy 29
Sadlier, Captain G. F,, xviii Sahara, the, 175, 259, 326 Sahba, Wadi, 71, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 103, 120
Sahma (gravel-region), 139, 256, 317, 318, 319, 322, 323, 324, 325, 329, 332
— , Janah (gravel-strip), 325
(rock exposure),
Sa’id ibn Fasl, g'.u.
— ^ — Su-wit, q.v,
Saii ibn Tannaf, q.v.
Sailan, al (hollow near ’Ain Sala), 202 ^ Salih (guide to Major Cheesman), 73, 91, 92, 98, 119, 121 Qasr, 98
Salih ibn ’Ali abu Laila, q.v.
— - al ’Uwair, q.v.
■ - - ’Aziz (member of expedition).
10, 57, 58, 59, 63, 67, 76, 77 78, 79, 81, 84, 103, 116, 118, 120, 125, 130, 135, 138, 146, 168, 170, 171, 172, 173, 186, 189,
190, 191, 195, 203, 230, 231 232, 248, 254, 257, 264, 266 275, 277, 281, 282, 293, 31o' 311, 313, 322, 324, 345 349 352, 356, 359 ’ ’
Salih, Madain (in Hijaz), 176 Salih ibn Minya, q.v.
Salim ibn Fasl, q.v.
- Nadir, q.v.
- Nuqaidan, q.v.
- Suwailim, q.v.
Salt, Eno’s fruit, 75, 290 Salt, Epsom, 75, 286, 290 Salt flat, see Sabkha Saluqi dogs, 33, 64, 65, 91, 104 106, 134, 247, 289, 297, 300 302, 324
Salwa (oasis), 6, 14, 15, 43, 45, 46 47, 48, 49, 50, 54, 57, 60, 61, 102 — , Khisat al, 47 Sana (purgative plant), 363 San’a (Yaman), 176 Sanam al Hawar, q.v.
Sanam (sand-region), 131, 132, 154, 168, 182
Sand ablutions, q.v.
Sand bubbles, 310
- grouse, 37, 113
— , moisture in, 225, 245, 295, 307, 308, 312, 332, 335, 348 — -sense, 143
— , ‘ Singing,’ 204-209, 295, 393, 394
— , soft, 151, 185, 205, 312, 313 —stone, 19, 24, 25, 44, 46, 51, 61, 66, 90, 91, 93, 100, 101, 110, 111, 118, 124, 136, 149, 193, 194, 199, 203, 213 — storm, 304
— trails, 16, 30, 39, 70, 280, 302 — , ‘ Whistling,’ 207 Sandals, 18, 320
‘ Sandheim’ (Libyan Desert), 328 Sa’qa, Marbakh al, 30 ‘ Saramid,’ see Surr al Ma’id Sarif, the ‘ day ’ of, 69 Sdrut (SawdrU), 98 Sa’ud, ’Abdul ’Aziz ibn (King of the Hijaz andNajd), xx, xxi, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 12, 18, 22, 27, 28, 30, 36, 43, 52, 72, 77, 91, 104, 129, 150, 177, 196, 213, 224, 225, 226, 232, 233, 234, 244, 266, 291, 295, 296, 303, 318, 327, 331, 351, 357, 364 — ’Abdullah ibn Faisal ibn, 213, 214
—, Faisal ibn, xxii — ibn ’Abdul ’Aziz ibn Sa’ud (heir- apparent), 294, 298
INDEX
Sa’ud ibn Jiliim, q,v.
- Qurai, q.v,
Sawabib (tract of dune-ranffes), 129 217, 218, 246, 280, 284, 301, 336 Scare -crow, 38 Science, 36, 81, 124, 133, 143 Scorpion, 322 — , the (Constellation), 77 Scott, Hugh, 402-404 Sea-level, 47, 53, 64, 69, 148, 185, 194, 228, 407, 408 Sea-water, see Camel Semitic, 21, 34, 58 Sex, 42, 81, 279 Sexual intercourse, 31 Sfiri (summer rains), 66 Sha’ban (month), 18, 26, 28, 30 Shaddad, see ’Ad Sha’diya, Qauz al, 356 Sha’ib, 356
Shaduk, Hadt ibn, 101 Shaflut, Ibn (shaikh of Qahtan), 74 Shahrazad, see Arabian Nights Shahriyar, King, see Arabian Nights Sha’ib ’Ajmaniya, see Sahba
— al ’Ars, q,v.
- Birk, see Sahba
Shaiba (sulDsection of Ghafran), 26 Sha’la (wells), 71
— (one of the camels), 276
Shalfa, Kaqqat al (gravel-strip), 144 Shanna (well), xxii, 61, 104, 130,
139, 154, 160, 173, 181, 186,
194, 195, 196, 197, 215, 216,
221, 222, 224-239, 243, 244,
245, 246, 247, 248, 250, 251,
256, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264,
266, 268, 271, 304, 319, 327,
328, 352
— , Ramla, 131, 246 Shanties, Badawin, see Song Sharifian, xx, 364 Sheep, 15, 26, 31, 38, 63, 143, 363 Shells, fresh-water, 138, 139, 140,
141, 148, 151, 163, 175, 193,
201, 232, 248, 249, 257, 258,
260, 312, 387-389 — , marine, 62, 139, 149, 249 — , spiral, 48, 50, 64, 222, 227, 248, 252, 277, 388-389 Shepherd, 358, 359 Shibam (Hadhramaut), 197 Shihr (Hadhramaut), 176 Shisar (well), 231 Shrike, 229
Shu’ait, Ramla, 159, 232 Shuqqan al Birkan, g.tj.
Shuqqat abu Nahajc, g.'y.
— al Khalfat, g.t?.
Shuwai’ar, Rijm al (in Bahna), 330
429
Shuwaikila (sand-tract), 73, 131, 258, 304, 316, 317, 318, 319, 323, 351
Sibila, ‘ day ’ of, 244, 245 Sickle, the, see Lion
Sight, no, 187, 302, 309, 314, 315,
355
Sikak (oasis), 6, 30, 45, 46, 50, 52, 53
Sila (on coast of Persian Gulf), 79 Silica glass, 177 ‘ Singing ’ sand, q.v»
Sirra (near Bhafra), 84 — , Wadi, see Sahba Sirius, 217 Siut = Assmt, q.v.
Siwa, 326, 327, 328 ‘ Skhul ’ = Suqur, q.v.
Skink (lizard), 313, 398
Slag, 156, 165, 166, 167, 168, 177
Slave, 5, 58, 361
Sleep, 32, 45, 49, 50, 75, 76, 150, 171, 173, 187, 188, 204, 219, 222, 256, 268, 274, 279, 281, 282, 287, 301, 305, 309, 315, 325, 329, 333, 341, 342, 343, 349, 357
Smell, sense of, 125, 126, 254, 302, 330, 331, 346 Smith, Reginald, 140 Smoking, 31, 32 Snake, 221, 250, 251, 398 * Snow-boots,’ 17, 18, 55 ‘ Snuffing,’ see Camel Soap, 5, 14 Somaliland, 184
Song, 135, 252, 257, 304, 311, 324, 325, 334
Southern Cross, 77, 274 Speed-track, 325
Spencer, Br, L. J,, 177, 178, 365-370 Spica, 77, 297, 352 Springs, 49, 50, 53, 63, 88, 89, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 113, 177 Stein, Sir Aurei, 138 Steppe, 86, 90, 93, 100, 102, 109, 111, 112, 116, 118, 124, 139, 150, 159, 221, 249, 316, 335, 344, 348, 349
Stones, Meteoritic, see Meteorite — , ‘Walking,’ 80, 81, 88, 136, 376-379
storm, 188, 190, 286, 287, 293, 297, 316, 324, 349, 363 Subai’ (tribe), 9, 324 — , Bani ’Arur section of, 9 Sudair (province), 5 Sudan, 11 Suez, XX
Sufyan, Bani (tribe), 34
430
INDEX
Sugar, 11, 12, 19, 268, 278, 280, 303 Sula’ al Haml, q.v.
Sulaiyil, 37, 105, 113, 125, 130, 176,
197, 228, 235, 236, 249, 262, 266, 274, 278, 294, 298, 303, 304, 307, 321, 322, 327, 328, 330, 336, 337, 348, 349, 350,
351, 353, 355, 357, 358, 360, 361, 362, 363
Sultan, Hamad ibn, see Hadi Sumerian, 119
Summan (steppe), 20, 82, 86, 100, 109, 110, 116, 116, 118, 119, 121, 124, 125, 129, 133, 139, 228, 335, 337 — , Khushum, 109 — , Mahadir, 95, 100 Sun, 9, 13, 19, 27, 28, 30, 44, 45, 54, 55, 61, 62, 76, 84, 93, 94, 95, 112, 134, 146, 166, 170, 183, 202, 236, 251, 252, 253, 255, 258, 261, 275, 281, 282, 285, 291, 296, 306, 308, 310, 314, 315, 316, 319, 320, 324, 326,
332, 333, 335, 337, 338, 339, 340, 345, 349, 354
Simstroke (Heatstroke), see Camel Suq al Khamis, q.v.
Suqur, Maqair al (oliSs), 60 Surr al Ma’Id (channel), 80, 82, 83 Suwailih, Muhammad ibn (of Banna Ghafran), 213, 214 SuwaUim, ’Abdul Rahman ibn (late Amir of Qatif), 3 — , Bir ibn (wells), 244 — -, Muhammad ibn, 4 — , Salim ibn (guide), 10, 109, 110, 111, 115, 125, 130, 131, 134, 138, 142, 143, 145, 147, 150, 151, 153, 155, 157, 160, 161, 166, 169, 173, 174, 184, 192,
198, 200, 203, 215, 236, 238, 243, 244, 258, 262, 264, 267, 269, 302, 303, 304, 306, 309, 310, 311, 314, 315, 317, 320, 323, 324, 325, 329, 330, 332,
333, 334, 335, 336, 337, 338, 342, 347, 348, 349, 350, 351,
352, 353, 354, 355, 356
‘ Suwaiyid ’ (name of raven), 113 Suwid ibn Hadi al Azma, q.v.
Suwit, Sa‘Id ibn (Manasir shaikh), 57 Swallow, 144, 173, 307, 359 Swan, see Geese Syria, xxi, 184
T
Xaif, XX, 34 Taiyib Ism (drmes), 39
Talla’iya, Hidba, 8 Tamarisk, 63, 89, 99, 102, 359, 361 Tannaf, Saif ibn (shaikh of Manahil tribe), 7, 103, 104, 196, 226 Tarad, Naslat al, 43 Taraf (village in Hasa), 15 Tara’Iz (sand-region^ 154, 156, 168 Tari, Qasr, 361 Tasrat, Majari, 182, 183 — (well), 182 TatMith, Wadi, 363 Tawil, Bir al, see Ba’aij Taxes, 28, 103, 104, 196, 226 Taxidermy, 54, 188, 200, 220 Tea, 11, 17, 18, 76, 122, 146, 150 187, 188, 196, 201, 263, 268! 270, 273, 278, 280, 281, 290 305, 309, 317, 320, 328, 333, 334, 336, 338, 339, 345, 352, 357, 361
— , made from Ahal, 278, 293 Temperature, 9, 13, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 27, 32, 69, 123, 134, 135 143, 146, 150, 173, 177, 207, 208, 209, 238, 251, 255, 256, 280, 285, 293, 316, 319, 320, 329, 332, 334, 339, 343, 348, 349, 363
Tents, 9, 17, 18, 27, 33, 42, 44, 54, 57, 63, 64, 74, 76, 77, 92, 105, 116, 134, 135, 143, 150, 158, 165, 166, 171, 173, 188, 191, 193, 195, 198, 204, 211, 213, 216, 219, 222, 224, 226, 229, 235, 237, 239, 246, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 269, 273, 277, 280, 287, 293, 295, 296, _ 298, 301, 362
Thamudites, see Madain Salih Thamut (well), 231 Thaniya, al (hiUook), 93 Theodolite, 7, 49, 164, 171, 200, 349 Thirst, 44, 75, 146, 173, 191, 195, 215, 261, 263, 266, 268, 284, 285, 291, 304, 306, 320, 321, 322, 325, 330, 331, 337, 338, 339, 348, 353, 361, 364 Thomas, Bertram, xvii, xix, xxii, 21, 34, 60, 73, 79, 87, 89, 119, 128, 129, 132, 137, 138, 147, 160, 164, 169, 160, 161, 168, 169, 174, 177, 183, 193, 196, 207, 226, 228, 231, 232, 311,
Thulaithiya garden (Hufuf), 8 Thunaian, Ibn (Amir of Qatif), 4 Thunder, 287, 297, 306, 343, 367 Thunderstorm, 178 Thuwair (ridge), 19, 20, 21, 22 — , Hamarir al (sand-tract), 16
INDEX
431
Tick, see Camel ticks Tihdmi (see Locust), 38 Tina, Umm al (rock exposure), 223 Tobacco, 31, 76 Toys, Badawin, 142, 149 Tracks (tracking), 23, 30, 33, 37, 48, 53, 62, 68, 72, 73, 74, 88, 95, 104, 112, 113, 125, 134, 142, 154, 155, 173, 183, 190, 191, 198, 218, 221, 230, 245, 252, 253, 254, 256, 257, 258, 272, 275, 276, 299, 300, 302, 316, 330, 331, 342, 344, 346, 360 Trans- Jordan, 194 Trap, see Bird-
' Travellers ’ (in Ramdhan), 31, 56, 109, 184
Tribal payments, 77
— rations, 214
— wars, 38, 43, 84, 244, 257, 364 Tripe (of camel), 147
Tumuli (see Bahrain), 177 Turaba (oasis), 364 Turaiqa (wells), 172 Turaiwa (well), 215, 246 Turk (Turks, Turkish, etc.), 8, 103, 179, 214, 362 Tutankhamen, 164 Tuwaiq (plateau), 86, 348, 352, 353, 355, 356, 358, 359, 360 Tuwairif, Qasr, 97 Tuwairifa (well), 139, 146, 147, 148, *149, 151, 160, 163, 164, 194, 228, 316
Tuwal (region of deep wells), 129, 132
Typewriter, 6
■Cbar ( = Wabar), 159, 160, 232 ’trj (wells), 115, 121, 164 ’Uman, see Oman ^Umdnlya, see Camel Umbrella, 319
Umm (i.e. original well-shaft — cf. Jahllya, q.v,)^ 135
— al ’Adwa, q,v.
- ’Adhwa=’Adwa, q.v.
- Hadid, q.v.
- Nussi, q.v.
— Qarain, q.v.
- Qurun, q.v.
- Ramad, q.v.
— — Sahnain, q.v.
- Tina, q.v.
— Hadiya=Maha<h[r, q.v.
— Ithila, q.v.
— Maithala=Umm Ithila, q.v. Ummhat al Fasam, q.v.
Unclean, 36, 114 Unicorn (= (?) Oryx, q.v.\ 236 ’Uqair, xxiv, 3, 5, 7, 15, 25, 48 Urine (of camels), 44, 94, 123, 124, 171, 306
— as hairwash, 306
— as medicine, 75, 76, 306 ’Uniq al Abal, q.v.
- Khilla, q.v.
Usaifir breed of camels, q.v.
Usba’, al (peak), 90, 93 Uthaithiyat, al (hillocks), 100 Uvarov, B. P., 402 ’Uwaidh, Jaub al, 60 ’Uwaifara (wells), 177 ’Uwair, Salih ibn ’Ail al, 72
— (subsection of Ghafran), 72, 169 ’Uwaiya (well), 137
’Uyun (Hasa), xxiii ’Uzra, ’Aidh ibn, 98
V
Vega, 279 Veil, 59, 359, 360 Venus (planet), 206 ‘ Victory Gate ’ (of Hufiif), 8 ViHage, 53, 60, 64, 77, 88, 90, 91, 96, 121, 304, 359, 362 Virgins (as leaders in tribal battles), 257
Volcano, 81, 165, 166, 174 Vulture, 35, 36
W
Wabar (Aubar), 6, 69, 70, 96, 103, 126, 132, 137, 138, 154, 157- 180, 181, 182, 185, 186, 188, 209, 232, 289
Wabra (wells), 177
Wadi Bani Kiiaiid, q.v.
— Dawasir, q.v.
— Faruq, q.v.
— Habauna, q.v.
— Maqran, q.v.
— ISTajran, q.v.
— Ranya, q.v.
— Sabba, q.v.
— Sirra, see Sahba
— Tathlith, q.v.
Wagtail, 305, 319
Wahhabi, xx, xxi, xxii, 18, 28, 52, 74, 77, 179, 196, 213, 224, 331, 364
Wail, Qam abu, 46, 50, 51, 61, 139
Walking, 133, 187, 189, 190, 210, 211, 217, 218, 309
‘ Walking ’ stones, q.v.
Waqar (well), 72
432
INDEX
Warbler, Desert, 183, 186, 199, 203, 212, 220, 223, 253, 259, 303, 305, 308, 310
Washing (bathing, etc.), 63, 123, 171, 204, 292, 293, 294, 296
WasTO= brand-mark, q.v.
Wasmi (autumn rains), 66
Wasps, 402-404
Watches, 6, 32, 45, 205, 334, 341, 349
Water, abstinence from, 171, 187, 188, 268, 270, 273, 278, 286, 290, 303, 306, 333, 338, 339
— , Baden, 291
— , Briny, 67, 89, 100, 122, 148, 183, 185, 186, 195, 203, 215, 224, 225, 246
— -less Desert, 74, 125, 129, 131,
132, 137, 139, 181, 184, 197, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 243-286, 300-361
— , Maqainama, 122, 123, 137
— , Mineral, 291
— , Haifa, 195, 215, 221, 279, 286, 290, 291, 293, 339
— problems, 52
- skins, 19, 63, 122, 135, 137, 187,
188, 195, 225, 237, 239, 245, 267, 290, 297, 300, 302, 309, 326, 327, 328, 333, 361
Wattle lining (of wells), 15, 24, 44, 47, 116, 194
Weathering (of rocks), 43, 46, 60, 66, 90
Well (wells), 8, 14, 15, 16, 23, 24, 31, 37, 39, 40, 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 57, 58, 60, 66, 67, 69, 70, 71, 72, 84, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 94, 100, 101, 102, 112, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 121, 122, 125, 131, 134, 135, 141, 142, 147, 148, 149, 151, 157, 160, 161, 163, 166, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 176, 177, 179, 181, 182, 183, 185, 194, 198, 199, 201, 203, 204, 205, 210, 212, 213, 214, 215, 218, 222, 224, 225, 226, 227, 230, 231, 236, 237, 239, 243, 244, 245, 246, 260, 262, 276, 285, 286, 288, 292, 293, 294, 296, 327, 343, 354, 355, 356, 361, 362 — , covered, 116, 122, 135, 137, 154, 169, 215, 246, 246
— , deep, 44, 96, 119, 121, 129, 137, 147, 148,163, 164, 228 —, salt, 147, 228 —, shallow, 44, 63, 148 Welsh (Wales), 208 Wheat, 13, 361
149, 152, 220, 292, 332,
Wheeler, E. 0., 114 Whirlwind, 295, 296 ‘ Whistling ’ sand, q.v.
Wind, 13, 16, 20, 22, 28, 32, 37
83, 84, 89,' 95’ 112, 114, 120, 133, 134, I37’ 143, 144, 146, 147, 160 151’ 165, 173, 181 182 18V184
186, 188, 190, 192 195 201
^4, 205, 208, 227, 229, 236
ntt’ 260, 27l!
273, 276, 280, 285, 287, 291
295, 297, 301, 302 303 304
305, 306, 309, 312 316 319
320, 325, 329, 334; 337, iis,’
349, 356, 367, 358, 363 Wireless stations, 6 Wissmann, Dr. H. von, 176, 197 Wizardry, 346 Wolf, 15, 64, 72, 95 Women (wife, marriage), 4, 5, 22 28, 30, 44, 59, 64, 65, 75, 8l! 82, 84, 102, 104, 105, 110, 111, 182, 196, 214, 225, 227, 233 246, 279, 310, 315, 322, 330* 331, 349, 359, 360, 361, 362,
Wood-gatherers, 359, 360 Writing, 36
Wutaid, Ibn (of Dawasir), 13
Yadila=JMila, g.-y.
Yahuda, Dr., 116 Yamama, 79
Yaman, 34, 176, 177, 249, 303, 362
Yanbu’ (in Hijaz), 204
Ya’qut (historian), 158, 164, 176
Zoiid ibn Hubaish (cook of expedi¬ tion), 10, 32, 124, 141, 173, 198, 226, 273, 280, 286, 289, 292, 296
Zainan, Hadh Bani (sand-region), 182, 184, 306, 307, 308, 313, 316
Zaqiba (subsection of Buhaih), 2T Zamuqa (wells), 72 Zayid al Munakhkhas (leader of execution), 6, 8, 9, 11, 12, 16, 16, 20, 21, 22, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 35, 39, 40, 41, 50, 51, 58, 69, 63, 65, 69, 81, 84, 104, 110, iff’ 130, 135, 138, 143, 147, 151, 166, 156, 162, 168, 169,
INDEX
433
|
185, |
186, |
187, |
188, |
|
196, |
197, |
201, |
203, |
|
215, |
216, |
219, |
220, |
|
225, |
230, |
231, |
233, |
|
245, |
254, |
255, |
256, |
|
265, |
266, |
271, |
273, |
|
277, |
281, |
282, |
285, |
|
294, |
297, |
302, |
305, |
|
313, |
314, |
325, |
326, |
|
333, |
339, |
340, |
341, |
|
349, |
353, |
354, |
355, |
|
360, |
362 |
189,
209,
221,
235,
257,
274,
289,
309,
329,
342,
357,
191,
211,
222,
243,
264,
275,
292,
312,
330,
344,
359,
9,145
Zibda (wells), 71, 72
Ziifi, 244
Zinc ointment, 75
Ziqirt (wells), 104, 186, 194, 196, 201, 203, 207, .209, 210, 211, 212, 214, 217, 229, 236, 246 — ( = gens d’armes), 214 — , Hamran (dune-ranges), 209, 212 , Hawair al (depression), 214 Zones, Plant, 131, 258, 259, 271, 280
Zubara Mahmid, q.v.
Zuwaira (well), 244, 245, 246
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