We encamped while still in the Khor Khur, but the sheikhs would not allow the tents to be put near the rocks, fearing disaster, and in the morning Sheikh Hassan was in a great hurry to be off, coming and shouting 'Al khiem! Al khiem!' ('the tents!') to hasten us out of them and let them be packed. We had had to carry water from the last place. It had been so clear and clean when we had it in our own buckets. It had taken more than four hours to fetch with camels, but what we carried on was put into dirty skins, full of the mud of the place before, so it was horrible and a great disappointment; we had to wait for more.
When we left this camp we were led to suppose we should reach Sellala, said to be an oasis, in about two hours and a half; but it took us an hour to get out of the Khor Khur, winding among high rocks with most beautiful shapes and shadows, rounding Jebel Gidmahm, which was on our left, and then we entered a very hideous wadi called Amadet. The floor of it was very up and down, and high rocks and little hills stood about, whereas the wadis are for the most part flat in the middle. But all round this ugly wadi there were high and fantastic mountains, range behind range.
After that there was a narrow khor called Rabrabda, and finally a great sandy desert, where the hills were comparatively low, through which we marched for several hours, always looking out for the oasis, where we promised ourselves great enjoyment, intending to spend a few days in so nice a place. When at last we reached Sellala, which Ali Hamid's son had led us to believe was a perfect Paradise, instead we found a wretched arid spot, with one deep and well-constructed well, probably of considerable antiquity, surrounded by many mud drinking-troughs, around which were collected a large number of camels.
All our promised verdure resolved itself into a few mimosa-trees and desert plants, and we encamped in great discomfort in a raging sandstorm, quite out of patience with our guide for his deceit. The wind was very wild and cold. We did not enjoy Sellala at all. Our tent had to be tied up in a tiny sandy cleft, and a huge boulder was under my bed. We had only two winds to trouble us there, though, instead of all four, which were raging outside. About 200 yards from the well was Ali Hamid's village, a collection of some six or eight huts, in one of which dwells old Ali Hamid himself, the aged sheikh of this powerful branch of the Kourbab tribe; and the only evidence that we had of greater prosperity was that the women here wear gold nose-rings and have long gold earrings and more elaborate ornaments hanging from their plaited hair.
Ali Hamid looked very old and decrepit. He had a long hooked nose and exceedingly unpleasant face, and when we saw him we quite believed him to be, as they say, a hardened old slave-dealer. Perhaps the most remarkable fact about him was that he had a mother living, a wizened old crone who inhabited a tiny hut at Mohammed Gol, and reputed to be 135 years old by her friends, though I question if she was much over 90. Old age is rare among these nomads, and hence they make the most of any specimen they can produce.
We sat in the village for some time, and purchased various camel ornaments—tassels which they hang from their necks, and curious adornments decorated with cowries, which they place before the covered awning beneath which great ladies conceal themselves when on a camel journey.
Ali Hamid's son took us the next day on fast-trotting camels to visit some graffiti on basaltic rocks about eight miles distant. Here we found representations of animals chiselled on the hard rocks, similar to those we saw in Wadi Gabeit; we could recognise gazelles, camels, and elephants, and we thought the artist also had intended to depict giraffes, mongooses, and other strange beasts. Scattered amongst these animals are several Sabæan letters, the two [Symbol: See page image] (ya) and [Symbol: See page image] (wa) being very conspicuous. These scribblings were evidently done by the miners who were on their way from the coast to Wadi Gabeit, having landed at a convenient little harbour close by called Salaka. There is also one of the ruined towers not far from this spot, and the letters point to the fact that some of the miners here engaged must have been of Sabæan or Southern Arabian origin.
Sheikh Ali Hamid came often to see us, with many other sons, besides Mohamed, who had travelled with us, and a few of the latter's children, clothed and naked. They used to sit in a semicircle round the door of our tent.
Of course an exchange of gifts took place, and we were sent a sheep and a huge basketful of milk. The basket was shaped like a vase, a foot in diameter. A very nice inhabitant of the forbidden Wadi Hayet came to see us, Sheikh Seyyid Ta'ah. He gave us useful information as to the geography of his neighbourhood and the course of the valley.
Captain Smyth went off from Sellala with Sheikh Mohamed to take a peep into Wadi Hayèt, and on February 22 we left the place without any regret and turned northward. There are five Sellalas, and one is really an oasis. The splendid mountains of Erba had been quite obscured by the sand, though there had been a magnificent view of them when we arrived.