CHAPTER VIII
The Oasis of El Hamma
On the southernmost border of this oasis lies a village built of sunburnt stones, and of which the narrow lanes were almost deserted when we passed through it.
The Khalifa lived on the outskirts towards the south, and when we arrived he was squatting on a stone bench that ran the whole length of the outer wall of his house. The shade was delicious beneath the eaves of the broad roof supported by two rows of felled palm-tree stems. I cannot help thinking that these were the origin of the pillars of the ancients, and suggested to the Egyptians the design for the columns of their temples, and, through them, those of the Greeks and Romans in their magnificent temple halls.
Around the Khalifa were sitting, standing, or lying, groups of loud-voiced men, all talking. He was holding a court of justice, which was attended with the wrangling, jostling and thrusting, usual on such occasions.
Crouched in front of him was a man, near whom were a woman and child, and around them was gathered an interested, excited crowd.
The woman, with outstretched hands, addressed the Khalifa, speaking in a subdued voice and with the striking gestures peculiar to Orientals. She was immediately interrupted by the man, who shouted and gesticulated. Other men joined in. I saw arms and clenched fists in constant motion, and was deafened by the noise rising from every side.
The Khalifa, a man of about fifty, sat, mild and amiable, gazing at the crowd with his deep black eyes. His fine figure was slight and noble, and his features refined, with a slightly hooked nose and a full beard, through which his fingers were occasionally passed. Now and then a hidden fire flashed from his expressive eyes as he made a remark. Then the shouts of the crowd would moderate, but only for a moment, and again the storm broke loose.
At last it really grew too bad, and what I had expected for some time came to pass—one of the Khalifa’s men punished the crowd with a stick. Some retreated a little, others remained calmly seated, and the inquisition recommenced, until again the demonstrations became too violent.
Our arrival interrupted this scene for a time. I was kindly received and shown to a dwelling on the first floor of a side wing.
When my baggage had been brought in, at his invitation I seated myself beside the Khalifa on his carpeted bench, where we partook of the “welcome” of coffee in tiny cups, whilst we discussed my journey and my motives in undertaking it.