It was whispered about in the caravan that the Atouni Arabs were lying in wait for them somewhere on the road; and on their arrival at the wells of El Egheita, therefore, they halted to wait for the coming up of the caravans of Cus, Esneh, and Ebanout, in order to oppose as formidable a number as possible to the enemy. While they were at this place, Abd el Gin, or the “Slave of the Genii,” an Arab whom Bruce had received into his kanja on the Nile, and treated with much kindness, came up to him, and requested that he would take charge of his money, which amounted to nineteen sequins and a half. “What, Mohammed!” said Bruce, “are you never safe among your countrymen, neither by sea nor land?”—“Oh, no,” replied Mohammed; “the difference when we were on board the boat was, we had three thieves only; but when assembled here, we shall have above three thousand. But I have a piece of advice to give you.”—“And my ears, Mohammed,” said the traveller, “are always open to advice, especially in strange countries.”—“These people,” continued Mohammed, “are all afraid of the Atouni Arabs, and, when attacked, they will run away and leave you in the hands of these Atouni, who will carry off your baggage. Therefore, as you have nothing to do with their corn, do not kill any of the Atouni if they come, for that will be a bad affair, but go aside, and let me manage. I will answer with my life, that though all the caravan should be stripped stark naked, and you loaded with gold, not one article belonging to you shall be touched.” And upon putting numerous questions to the man, Bruce was so well satisfied with his replies that he determined to conform in every respect to his advice.
While the minds of all present were busied in calculating the extent of their dangers, and the probabilities of escape, twenty Turks from Caramania, mounted on camels, and well armed, arrived at the camp, and learning that the principal tent belonged to an Englishman, entered it without ceremony. They informed our traveller they were hajjis, going on pilgrimage to Mecca, and had been robbed upon the Nile by those swimming banditti, who, like the Decoits of the Ganges, are indescribably dexterous in entering vessels by night, and plundering in silence. By the people of the country they had, in fact, been ill-treated, they said, ever since their landing at Alexandria; but that having now found an Englishman, whom they regarded as their countryman, since the English, according to their historical hypothesis, came originally from Caz Dangli in Asia Minor, they hoped, by uniting themselves with him, to be able to protect themselves against their enemies. This preference was flattering, and “I cannot conceal,” says Bruce, “the secret pleasure I had in finding the character so firmly established among nations so distant, enemies to our religion, and strangers to our government. Turks from Mount Taurus, and Arabs from the desert of Libya, thought themselves unsafe among their own countrymen, but trusted their lives and their little fortunes implicitly to the direction and word of an Englishman whom they had never before seen!”
On the 19th they continued their journey over the desert between mountains of granite, porphyry, marble, and jasper, and pitched their tents at Mesag el Terfowy, in the neighbourhood of the Arab encampment. This, under most circumstances, is a position of considerable danger; for, as there are generally thieves in all caravans, as well as in all camps, marauders from one side or the other commonly endeavour to exercise their profession in the night, and embroil their companions. Such was the case on the present occasion. The thieves from the Arab camp crept unseen into Bruce’s tent, where they were detected, endeavouring to steal a portmanteau. One of them escaped; but the other, less nimble, or less fortunate, was taken, and beaten so severely, that he shortly afterward died. At this moment Bruce was absent; but on his return, a messenger from Sidi Hassan, chief of the caravan, summoned him to appear before him. It being late, our traveller refused. Other messengers followed—the camp was kept in unintermitted anxiety all night—and after much altercation and gasconading on both sides, fear of the Atouni Arabs at length induced them to calm their passions and consult their interest.
Proceeding in their course, however, without encountering an enemy of any kind, they arrived on the morning of the 21st in sight of the Red Sea, and in little more than an hour after entered Kosseir. Here he established himself in a house, and amused himself with observing the manners of the motley crowds assembled in the town. Next morning, being in a fishing-dress on the beach, seeking for shells, a servant came running in great haste to inform him that the Ababdé Arabs, to the number of four hundred, had arrived, and that having met with Mohammed Abd el Gin, whom they discovered to be an Atouni, had hurried him away with intent to cut his throat, there being blood between his tribe and theirs.
Together with this news the servant had brought a horse, and Bruce, without a moment’s reflection, sprang upon his back, and driving through the town in the direction which had been pointed out, quickly arrived at the Ababdé encampment. Upon his drawing near a number of them surrounded him on horseback, and began to speak together in their own language. The traveller now began to think he had advanced a step too far. They had lances in their hands, one thrust of which would have stretched him upon the earth; and by their looks he did not think they were greatly averse to using them. However, there was no retreating, so he inquired whether they were Ababdé, from Sheikh Ammor, and if so, how was the Nimmer, and where was Ibrahim. Upon their acknowledging that they were Ababdé, he gave them the salaam; but, without returning it, one of them demanded who he was. “Tell me first,” replied Bruce, “who is this you have before you?”—“He is an Arab, our enemy,” said they, “guilty of our blood.”—“He is my servant,” replied the traveller; “a Howadat, whose tribe lives in peace at the gates of Cairo!—but where is Ibrahim, your sheikh’s son?”—“Ibrahim is at our head, he commands us here; but who are you?”—“Come with me, and show me Ibrahim, and you shall see!” replied Bruce.
They had already thrown a rope about the neck of their prisoner, who, though nearly strangled, conjured Bruce not to leave him; but the latter, observing a spear thrust up through the cloth of one of the tents, the mark of sovereignty, hastened towards it, and saw Ibrahim and one of his brothers at the door. He had scarcely descended, and taken hold of the pillar of the tent, exclaiming Fiar duc, “I am under your protection,” when they both recognised him, and said, “What, are you Yagoube, our physician and friend?”—“Let me ask you,” replied Bruce, “if you are the Ababdé of Sheikh Ammor, who cursed yourselves and your children if ever you lifted a hand against me or mine, in the desert or in the ploughed field? If you have repented of that oath, or sworn falsely on purpose to deceive me, here I am come to you in the desert.”—“What is the matter?” said Ibrahim; “we are the Ababdé of Sheikh Ammor—there are no other—and we still say, ‘Cursed be he, whether our father or children, who lifts his hand against you, in the desert or in the ploughed field!’”—“Then,” replied Bruce, “you are all accursed, for a number of your people are going to murder my servant.”—“Whew,” said Ibrahim, with a kind of whistle, “that is downright nonsense. Who are those of my people who have authority to murder and take prisoners while I am here! Here, one of you, get upon Yagoube’s horse, and bring that man to me.” Then turning to Bruce, he desired him to go into the tent and sit down; “for God renounce me and mine,” said he, “if it is as you say, and one of them hath touched the hair of his head, if ever he drinks of the Nile again!”
Upon inquiry it was discovered that Sidi Hassan,[[11]] the captain of the caravan, had been the cause of this attempt at murder; having, in revenge for Ab del Gin’s discovering the robber in Bruce’s tent, denounced him to the Ababdé as an Atouni spy.
[11]. Upon parting with Ibrahim, Bruce, enraged at the baseness and treachery of Sidi Hassan, entreated the young chief to revenge his wrongs upon this man, which was solemnly promised. Upon coolly considering the action, when he came to write his travels, he says, “I cannot help here accusing myself of what, doubtless, may be well reputed a very great sin.” Major Head, relating this transaction, quotes the following addition to the above sentence: “the more so, that I cannot say I have yet heartily repented of it.” This would have argued extreme cold-heartedness, to say the least of it; but the words are not found in the original quarto edition, whatever they may be in others of comparatively no authority.
While waiting for a ship bound for Tor, he undertook a short voyage to the Mountains of Emeralds, or Jibbel Zumrud, where he found the ancient pits, and many fragments of a green crystalline mineral substance, veiny, clouded, but not so hard as rock-crystal. This he supposed was the smaragdus of the Romans, and the siberget and bilur of the Ethiopians, but by no means identical with the genuine emerald, which is equal in hardness to the ruby. Returning to Kosseir, he forthwith commenced his survey of the Red Sea. Having visited the northern portion of the gulf, he arrived, almost overcome with fatigue, and suffering much from ague, at Jidda, where there were a great number of Englishmen, from whom he very naturally expected a hospitable reception.
It must be acknowledged, however, that on this occasion, as on many others, Bruce’s conduct bordered strongly upon the absurd. His dress and whole appearance were those of a common Turkish sailor, which as long as he remained on board might be very prudent; but when he came to present himself before his countrymen, from whom he expected the treatment due to a gentleman, it would have been decorous either to have improved his costume, or have given two or three words of explanation. He did neither, but desired the servant of the Emir el Bahr, or “harbour-master,” who had run over the names of all the English captains then in port, to conduct him to a relation of his own, who, when they arrived, was accidentally leaning over the rail of the staircase leading up to his own apartment. Bruce saluted him by his name, but without announcing his own; and the captain, no less hasty than himself, fell into a violent rage, called him “villain, thief, cheat,” and “renegado rascal,” declaring that if he attempted to proceed a step farther, he would throw him over the stairs. The traveller went away without reply, followed by the curses and abuse of his polite relative.