CHAP. VIII.
The Author sets out from Kenné—Crosses the Desert of the Thebaid—Visits the Marble Mountains—Arrives at Cosseir, on the Red Sea—Transactions there.
It was Thursday, the 16th of February 1769, we heard the caravan was ready to set out from Kenné, the Cæne Emporium of antiquity. From Kenné our road was first East, for half an hour, to the foot of the hills, which here bound the cultivated land; then S. E. when, at 11 o’clock in the forenoon, we passed a very dirty small village called Sheraffa. All the way from Kenné, close on our left, were desert hills, on which not the least verdure grew, but a few plants of a large species of Solanum, called Burrumbuc.
At half past two we came to a well, called Bir Ambar, the well of spices, and a dirty village of the same name, belonging to the Azaizy, a poor inconsiderable tribe of Arabs. They live by letting out their cattle for hire to the caravans that go to Cosseir, and attending themselves, when necessary. It got its name, I suppose, from its having formerly been a station of the caravans from the Red Sea, loaded with this kind of merchandise from India. The houses of the Azaizy are of a very particular construction, if they can be called houses. They are all made of potter-clay, in one piece, in shape of a bee-hive; the largest is not above ten feet high, and the greatest diameter six.
There are no vestiges here of any canal, mentioned to have been cut between the Nile and the Red Sea. The cultivated land here is not above half a mile in extent from the river, but the inundation of the Nile reaches much higher, nor has it left behind it any appearance of soil. After passing Bir Ambar, we pitched our tent about four o’clock at Gabba[150], a short mile from Cuft, on the borders of the desert—here we passed the night.
On the 17th, at eight o’clock in the morning, having mounted my servants all on horseback, and taken the charge of our own camels, (for there was a confusion in our caravan not to be described, and our guards we knew were but a set of thieves) we advanced slowly into the desert. There were about two hundred men on horseback, armed with firelocks; all of them lions, if you believed their word or appearance; but we were credibly informed, that fifty of the Arabs, at first sight, would have made these heroes fly without any bloodshed.
I had not gone two miles before I was joined by the Howadat Arab, whom I had brought with me in the boat from Cairo. He offered me his service with great professions of gratitude, and told me, that he hoped I would again take charge of his money, as I had before done from Cairo. It was now for the first time he told me his name, which was Mahomet Abdel Gin, “the Slave of the Devil, or the Spirit.” There is a large tribe of that name, many of which come to Cairo from the kingdom of Sennaar; but he had been born among the Howadat, opposite to Metrahenny, where I found him.
Our road was all the way in an open plain, bounded by hillocks of sand, and fine gravel, perfectly hard, and not perceptibly above the level of the plain country of Egypt. About twelve miles distant there is a ridge of mountains of no considerable height, perhaps the most barren in the world. Between these our road lay through plains, never three miles broad, but without trees, shrubs, or herbs. There are not even the traces of any living creature, neither serpent nor lizard, antelope nor ostrich, the usual inhabitants of the most dreary deserts. There is no sort of water on the surface, brackish or sweet. Even the birds seem to avoid the place as pestilential, not having seen one of any kind so much as flying over. The sun was burning hot, and, upon rubbing two sticks together, in half a minute they both took fire, and flamed; a mark how near the country was reduced to a general conflagration!
At half past three, we pitched our tent near some draw-wells, which, upon tasting, we found bitterer than soot. We had, indeed, other water carried by the camels in skins. This well-water had only one needful quality, it was cold, and therefore very comfortable for refreshing us outwardly. This unpleasant station is called Legeta; here we were obliged to pass the night, and all next day, to wait the arrival of the caravans of Cus, Esné, and part of those of Kenné, and Ebanout.