RETURNING HOME
"He lengthened absence, and returned unwelcomed."
Moorish Proverb.
Evening is about to fall—for fall it does in these south latitudes, with hardly any twilight—and the setting sun has lit the sky with a refulgent glow that must be gazed at to be understood—the arc of heaven overspread with glorious colour, in its turn reflected by the heaving sea. One sound alone is heard as I wend my way along the sandy shore; it is the heavy thud and aftersplash of each gigantic wave, as it breaks on the beach, and hurls itself on its retreating predecessor, each climbing one step higher than the last.
There, in the distance, stands a motley group—men, women, children—straining wearied eyes to recognize the forms which crowd a cargo lighter slowly nearing land. Away in the direction of their looks I dimly see the outline of the pilgrim ship, a Cardiff coaler, which has brought close on a thousand Hájes from Port Saïd or Alexandria—men chiefly, but among them wives and children—who have paid that toilsome pilgrimage to Mekka.
The last rays of the sun alone remain as the boat strikes the shore, and as the darkness falls apace a score of dusky forms make a wild rush into[page 202] the surging waters, while an equal number rise up eager in the boat to greet their friends. So soon as they are near enough to be distinguished one from another, each watcher on the beach shouts the name of the friend he is awaiting, proud to affix, for the first time, the title Háj—Pilgrim—to his name. As only some twenty or thirty have yet landed from among so many hundreds, the number of disappointed ones who have to turn back and bide their time is proportionately large.
"Háj Mohammed! Háj Abd es-Slám! Háj el Arbi! Háj boo Sháïb! Ah, Háj Drees!" and many such ejaculations burst from their lips, together with inquiries as to whether So-and-so may be on board. One by one the weary travellers once more step upon the land which is their home, and with assistance from their friends unload their luggage.
Now a touching scene ensues. Strong men fall on one another's necks like girls, kissing and embracing with true joy, each uttering a perfect volley of inquiries, compliments, congratulations, or condolence. Then, with child-like simplicity, the stayer-at-home leads his welcome relative or friend by the hand to the spot where his luggage has been deposited, and seating themselves thereon they soon get deep into a conversation which renders them oblivious to all around, as the one relates the wonders of his journeyings, the other the news of home.
Poor creatures! Some months ago they started, full of hope, on an especially trying voyage of several weeks, cramped more closely than emigrants, exposed both to sun and rain, with hardly a change of clothing, and only the food they had brought with[page 203] them. Arrived at their destination, a weary march across country began, and was repeated after they had visited the various points, and performed the various rites prescribed by the Korán or custom, finally returning as they went, but not all, as the sorrow-stricken faces of some among the waiters on the beach had told, and the muttered exclamation, "It is written—Mektoob."
Meanwhile the night has come. The Creator's loving Hand has caused a myriad stars to shine forth from the darkness, in some measure to replace the light of day, while as each new boat-load is set down the same scenes are enacted, and the crowd grows greater and greater, the din of voices keeping pace therewith.
Donkey-men having appeared on the scene with their patient beasts, they clamour for employment, and those who can afford it avail themselves of their services to get their goods transported to the city. What goods they are, too! All sorts of products of the East done up in boxes of the most varied forms and colours, bundles, rolls, and bales. The owners are apparently mere bundles of rags themselves, but they seem no less happy for that.
Seated on an eminence at one side are several customs officers who have been delegated to inspect these goods; their flowing garments and generally superior attire afford a striking contrast to the state of the returning pilgrims, or even to that of the friends come to meet them. These officials have their guards marching up and down between and round about the groups, to see that nothing is carried off without inspection.
Little by little the crowd disperses; those whose[page 204] friends have landed escort them to their homes, leaving those who will have to continue their journey overland alone, making hasty preparations for their evening meal. The better class speedily have tents erected, but the majority will have to spend the night in the open air, probably in the rain, for it is beginning to spatter already. Fires are lit in all directions, throwing a lurid light upon the interesting picture, and I turn my horse's head towards home with a feeling of sadness, but at the same time one of thankfulness that my lot was not cast where theirs is.
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