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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 


\ 


of  Canada,  IJmiU'd 

TOKDN  r  o 


A/  A 


* 


pKiKTiR' m  c^nvM  nni'tAiri  i  ni>n».p:‘ 

tnt  t  }uv,f  rsii'-. 


I  :■ 


WIFK  ami  .MO'I’UFii 

WffO  BCIRE  TUK  IU-M-Vt  mm  . 

‘  ^  . ^N'C;  TRAVAIL 

A\X}nrs  VivAHS 

'  -miicatk  this  ,:,:n,K.i  .„.•  mv  wan-|,kki.vms 

IN  1’HK 

kmptv  gr.AHTFi:.  / 

nl  I, 

,t„.  i..,,  Mali  ,hiH  «,■  ,,„v,  ’  '' 

.  /■'rom  th,’  ,.f  , 


I’HKKAdE 


;•  ;  """  I  vva,„d,.vd 

.M-r(  .;xan.n,at,on  ul  iiH.  „r,.,.il  ki„<l,s  hnHad.t,  hack 

1-  "  K  ,  ;  . . .  “  . . . 

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- 

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sa 

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5Ct 

oa- 

ad 

en 

'ee 

he 

he 

ith 

5ri- 

of 

^y. 

M 

ces 

as 

)ok 

did 

ler- 

‘ms 

A1 

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an, 

liar 

3W- 

ngs 

the 

pras 

pp^as 

a-lly 
I  or 


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 


bris 
first 
and 
lets, 
d  in 
ord. 
and 
was 
>und 
the 

ions 

i  be 

^ork 

ilike 

>nbt- 

)  up. 

5t  up 

rAli 

rhey 

been 

j  but 

3llec- 

ddle- 

ainly 

bo  it, 

^abar 

were 

d  the 

i  very 

:on  is 

Drrow 

wills, 

h  the 

'  with 

.els  go 

when 

Df  the 


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 


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—  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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