Their buffaloes supply them with large quantities of butter and milk; the former is exported, and is a considerable article of trade. These hideous animals appear to thrive in the marshy lands, and some districts actually swarm with them. They are generally inoffensive and easily managed.

These tribes have also flocks of sheep and goats, but the animals are small, and their wool thin, and generally too coarse to form an article of commerce. They raise very little corn and barley; rice, of an inferior quality, forms their principal food.

The marshes and the jungles near the rivers are the retreats of many kinds of wild animals. Lions abound. I have seen them frequently, and during the excavations at Niffer we found fresh traces of their footsteps almost daily amongst the ruins. The Maidan Arabs boast of capturing them in the following manner, and trustworthy persons have assured me that they have seen the feat performed. A man, having bound his right arm with strips of tamarisk, and holding in his hand a strong piece of the same wood, about a foot or more in length, hardened in the fire and sharpened at both ends, will advance boldly into the animal’s lair. When the lion springs upon him, he forces the wood into the animal’s extended jaws, which will then be held open whilst he can dispatch the astonished beast at his leisure with the pistol that he holds in his left hand.

In the jungles are also found leopards, lynxes, wild cats, wolves, hyenas, jackals, deer, porcupines, boars in vast numbers, and other animals. Wild fowl, cranes, and bustards abound, and that beautiful game-bird the francolin, or black partridge, swarms in the low brushwood. The Arabs shoot them with ball. The marshes are full of fish, which attain a considerable size. They are chiefly, I believe, a kind of barbel. Their flesh is coarse and full of bones, but they afford the Arabs a constant supply of food. They are generally taken by the spear.

Although the inhabitants of the marshes recognise some of the laws of the Bedouins, they are wanting in many of the virtues of the Arabs of the Desert. They have, however, several customs relating to the duties of hospitality, which are rigidly adhered to. To say of a Maidan “that he has sold bread,” is to offer him the greatest of insults. To part with a loaf for money is accounted an act bringing disgrace not only upon the perpetrator, but upon his whole family. I found this peculiar custom exceedingly inconvenient during my residence amongst the Afaij. Sheikh Agab insisted upon giving daily to my large party their supplies of bread; and it was impossible to obtain it in any other manner. Even its sale in the public market was forbidden. I was, at length, compelled to send to a considerable distance for flour, and then to employ my own workmen in baking it. The same scruples do not exist with regard to other articles of food. They are sold in the bazar, as in all Eastern towns.

In the souk or bazar, of the Afaij tribe, were exposed for sale a few common Manchester prints—those world-wide evidences of the extent of British trade—English stuffs (printed and dyed at Baghdad called tangebs), keffiehs, Damascus silks, striped abas, dates, rice, coffee, spices, powder and arms, the usual stores of an Eastern market. A few Christian jewellers fashion gold and silver ornaments for the women, and an occasional pedlar from Hillah or Baghdad excites the admiration of the Arabs by the display of a stock of coarse knives, and common European hardware.

The dampness of the soil upon which my tent was pitched, and the unwholesome air of the surrounding marshes, brought on a severe attack of pleurisy and fever. I was soon unable to move from my bed, and was reduced at length to a state of extreme weakness. Fortunately it occurred to me to use a blistering fluid given to me for an injured horse, or I should probably not again have left the Afaij swamps. Notwithstanding the severity of the remedy it gave me immediate relief, and when Hormuzd joined me on the 28th of January, I resolved to make an attempt, without further delay, to reach Baghdad, where I could obtain medical aid. To add to our misfortunes, the rain fell in unceasing torrents for four days, and of course soon made its way through our tents. The waters of the marsh began to rise perceptibly, and the Afaij were preparing to abandon their mat huts, and to seek, in their light tiradas, a safer retreat.

Some days elapsed, however, before I could rise from my carpet. The state of affairs was daily getting worse. Abde Pasha had been suddenly deprived of his government by the Porte on account of the failure of his expedition against the Kazail Arabs, and his fall had increased the general anarchy. It was only by joining a large party of horsemen on their way to the seat of war in the south that Hormuzd had been able to reach Niffer. I found that it was quite impossible to penetrate further into Mesopotamia, and that by remaining much longer amongst the Afaij we ran the risk of being cut off from Baghdad altogether. I determined, therefore, to strike once more into the Desert, where we were less likely to meet with hostile Arabs than in the beaten tracks, and to make a forced march to some village in the neighbourhood of Hillah.

Fortunately I had my own riding horse with me, and his easy paces enabled me to undertake the journey although in a state of complete exhaustion. On the 2d of February, I took leave of Agab, and pitched my tents for the night beneath the mounds of Niffer. Before dawn on the following morning we were urging our horses over the desert plains of the centre of Mesopotamia. Two armed adherents of the Sheikh were with us, rather to act as guides than to protect us from enemies. We travelled without any cause for alarm as far as the great ruin of Zibbliyah. A large body of horsemen then suddenly appeared in the distance. We ascended the mound, and prepared to defend ourselves from this elevated position. But either the Arabs did not perceive us, or were bent upon some warlike expedition which did not admit of delay, for they passed onwards, and left us to continue our journey.

Zibbliyah closely resembles the celebrated ruin of Akkerkuf near Baghdad. It rises from a heap of rubbish in the centre of the Desert, and consists of a solid mass of large, crumbling, sundried bricks, between the courses of which, at certain intervals, are layers of reeds as in many of the Babylonian buildings.