Fadhli at Shariah, Wadi Reban, with Curious Sandal
When we left Naab we turned into the Wadi Reban to Shariah—three hours and ten minutes, seven geographical miles, four north-east and three north—and ascended 350 feet. Wadi Reban is a quarter of a mile wide near Naab, but after two miles opens out; and there are gardens, and now and again running water appears, and plenty of trees. At the fourth mile, near a fort, we turned sharply to the north, past Jebel Riah, where Wadi Riah comes in, and then reached a wide open space, where Wadi Silib joins in. Jebel Shaas was beyond us, very high, and Wadi Ghiuda to the right. This large open space is girt with mountains 500 to 5,000 feet high, and is a great junction for the waters from Wadis Reban, Silib, and Ghiuda. It was once exceedingly populous; there are here no less than four old villages called Shariah; two considerable towns were perched on the rocks, forming gates to the Wadi Silib, and two others at a great elevation on the opposite side. The cause of the decrease in population in Arabia must be the constant inter-tribal warfare and the gradual filling up of the valleys with sand. Great banks of sand 20 feet high line the river-beds, and wash away with the heavy rains, which contribute to the silting up. This country must have been very fertile to have supported the population, for the four towns must have been large. The stone buildings alone would make any one of the four larger than most towns in Arabia to-day, and there must have been the usual hut population. We had a very pleasant camp among trees, and had a steep scramble to the ruins.
An enthusiastic geologist would have enjoyed our next day's journey immensely; we went through such a strange weird volcanic valley—not a wadi, but a sheb, narrower and shallower. The road is called Tarik Sauda. The strata of the rocks are heaved up at a very steep angle, and we had to ride along smooth rocks, sometimes without any trace of a road at all among the stones; sometimes we had to make very great windings amongst heaps and hillocks of all sorts of different-coloured earths. Hardly a green thing was to be seen, and altogether the whole place looked dreary and desolate; but we were much interested in this day's journey among the great scarred and seamed volcanic mountains. We ascended 650 feet—very difficult indeed, travelling about seven miles in four hours; the steepest part is called Akaba Sauda. We reached the headwater of the Wadi Ghiuda at the top of the akaba, 2,000 feet from sea level. Naab is 1,000 feet above sea level; thence to Shariah is 350; and thence to Ghiuda, 650. We passed Dogoter and M'Haider, mere names. We encamped on a waste of stones; no tent-pegs could be used, and it was windy and cold.
There are gazelle in this part and we had some for dinner.
Now was our time to send by Musaben to the camp of the sultans three very gay blankets for them and Abdullah-bin-Abdurrahman. The long name of the wazir's father had constantly to be on our lips on account of his dignity, for they are like the Russians in that respect—common people's fathers are not mentioned. The name was marvellously shortened to B'd'rahman. We were thought to be in danger that night, and did not make a very early start, as we had to load up water; and we two climbed down 350 feet into the Wadi Ghiuda, that I might take photographs. It was so pretty, with pools of water and creepers hanging on the trees.
The sultans, meanwhile, sat up in their beds of leaves wrapped in their blankets. How absurd it seems that two princes and a prime minister should have to sleep out because two English choose to travel in their country! Not a word of thanks did we ever get for those blankets, but they were evidently much appreciated, for their recipients sat on their camels wrapped over head and ears in them in the blazing sun.
