Saturday, June 18.—Therm. 75°. Morning hazy, and feels scirocco-like; it became very hot towards the middle of the day. It is the glorious anniversary; how will it go off in London after a peace of twenty-one years. Hámed Damání is quite recovered, and the Sheïkh’s eyes are better: the latter cannot understand how some small pills should make his mouth sore. Patients out of number, and myself out of temper, looking most anxiously for letters from Mr. Willshire, which now must be on the road. Under any circumstances, I cannot expect to get off in less than a month; but only let that be certain, and I shall be satisfied. Hope my letters from England will arrive at the end of this month. I try but in vain to study. The house is a perfect bear-garden; the room very dirty, and I dare not venture to clean it: my things, once out of doors, would all go to rack. These people and the Arabs from the desert, have no sort of idea of time, nor have they any thing to distinguish night from day: the only regularity is respecting the number of the times of prayer, ablution and eating: they sleep, eat and drink, as nature prompts them; and are always ready, if an extra bowl of food is brought. I am tired to death.
Sunday, June 19.—Therm. 80°. All are hard at work in packing up for the Sók Múlíd (Sok Assa), to which they go to-morrow. Another disgusting scene took place in the court-yard this morning. A fine woman was pulled about, and exposed amidst the jeers of all these beasts: as she was handsome, the price asked was 150 mithkáls; but none would offer more than 130. As the bargain was being concluded for some Aj and Reïsh, there was a short deficiency to make up; which, after much cavilling, was settled by throwing in a little boy. This was, indeed, a sad scene for a Sunday morning. Went to my den in disgust, where I read the prayers, and kept out of sight the rest of the day. The place is crowded with strangers. Spoke very strongly to the Sheïkh about my detention; he assured me that he was only consulting my safety; that in eight or ten days all arrangements would be completed, and begs of me to be patient.
Monday, June 20.—Therm. 76°. The house is comparatively quiet: most of the party are gone to Sók Múlíd. Had a quiet day, throughout the whole of which there was a cool breeze from the N.W. The sun set in a heavy bank running along the whole of the horizon.
Tuesday, June 21.—Therm. 68°. Up at one A.M. to take observations, &c.; the night was very clear, and the bank disappeared in the W.; the wind was N.W., with heavy clouds in the S.; the mist lowered to the tops of the houses: a heavy rain in the S.W. by W., but clear towards the N. At nine A.M. all the place was in commotion, and the Sheïkh and his people were off on horseback in different directions, to look for a thief, who got into the yard of the house last night, and stole the Sheïkh’s favourite white horse. The Sheïkh’s son has returned, but the Damánís and others are in full chase. The stolen horse was one of great speed, and the thief had eight hours start. It will be interesting to know when the Damánís will come up with him; they have got their Shérb el Ríh; have looked at the print of the horse’s feet and his dung, and they will be sure to trace him by either sight or scent: like the B’híls in India, if they once see the track they never lose it. At ten P.M. one man returned, who stated that the Damánís said the horse had stopped, and they would now find him before morning. The man who brought this intelligence had ridden sixty miles, without intermission, on a mere bag of bones. The horses from here are not like the Shérb el Ríh; they are knocked up after five hours’ work: but the animals were all fresh when this man left them. My horse was to have gone with the rest; but as the brute of a son of the Sheïkh Mahmúd had thrown him down, being a very bad rider, and had broken both his knees, I would not let the poor creature go. The Sheïkh Beïrúk says, he would have kept up with the best of them; and I know that those of Hámed Damání, of Hájí Ibráhím, of Sídí ’Alí, of Zeïn, and of Habíb, can go for three days. I should certainly have liked mine to be tried. But his state was not such as to warrant the experiment; although the people said that he would go just as well with broken knees as sound ones. No post arrived.
Wednesday, June 22.—Therm. 70°. Heavy and lowering; got cold towards the afternoon. Feeling unwell kept the house. No post.
Thursday, June 23.—Therm. 80°. The Damánís returned late yesterday, and without the horse, which they say is concealed somewhere. It had not gone beyond the place they reached; they supposed it had its shoes changed, and was taken to Sók Múlíd, where a party was dispatched this morning. The lock of the door of the Sheïkh’s house was picked by means of some hard paste of flour and water. The locks are all of wood, and the fastening consists of three or four small pegs of wood, which fall into corresponding holes. By forcing in the paste, the pegs were thrown up, and the door opened without any noise, and the horse stolen. The Sheïkh was more vexed at its happening during my stay here, than at the loss of the animal. I am out of health, spirits and temper. Kept my room the whole day.
Friday, June 24.—Therm. 80°. In the evening, after an uneasy day, the post arrived, bringing a letter from Mr. Willshire, which astonished me. I have been robbed right and left by the villain Majíbí, who states that he paid 320 ducats for me in Sús, or I should have been taken and sold; that Sheïkh ’Alí called me his prize, and he would have 500 for me. This fellow is the prince of scoundrels. The people from Taghakánth, for whom the Sheïkh had written, arrived in the course of the day, and I hope to-morrow to know what they mean to do.
Saturday, June 25.—Therm. 82°. Very hot and close; a melting day before us. Had a long conference with the Damánís; but nothing was said on the subject of my going. They made repeated attacks on the creed of the Christians, and spoke of the impossibility of our going to heaven without the aid of the prophet. I was strongly urged to turn Mohammedan: they would give me camels, nákahs, slaves, &c. I was at length obliged to silence them. After this came the newspapers, out of which I made some extracts, which Abú read to them in Arabic, and with which they were highly pleased. They hoped the Sultán would persist in attacking the French: they said that these districts could furnish, mount, and arm fifty thousand men; but though they are fond of exaggeration, I think that twenty thousand might be raised in this quarter. A man has come this day to say, that he knows of two Christian slaves in the desert; they are Spaniards. He wishes to know if I would buy them, or if the consul at Suweïrah or Tangier would. After this, he asked me for some medicines. I gave him a settler, by asking how he could come to me a Christian, and ask for medicines, when he had taken these poor Christians, and meant to sell them? Upon this, some words ensued; to which the arrival of the Sheïkh put a stop. I told him to go to Suweïrah, and asked how could he expect mercy, who shewed so little to others? The heat very oppressive to-day. The Damánís were right: the stolen horse did not go beyond the place they pointed out. They have this day returned, having taken the thief, and his brother, who had stolen three cows: they had ridden the horse to death. The two brothers have made a pretty disclosure. They were sent by the son of Sídí Hasan to murder Billah, a confidential servant of the Sheïkh, who had left the service of Sídí Hasan, because the son of the latter had violated the wife of Billah. If they could not kill Billah, they were to seize and carry away his present wife, who is a pretty woman; and, failing in that, they were to steal the Sheïkh’s favourite horse, as a punishment for protecting Billah, who, with his wife, escaped both the murder and abduction, and the Sheïkh’s horse fell the sacrifice. For this pretty job the fellows were to have about three shillings each. I hope the Sheikh will shoot them. At length the Damánís have been to my rooms, and told me, that if no káfilah is to go for some time, they will proceed with me. I like them much; they are fine specimens of wild men, but not savages. A large party of them came in the evening, and staid till one A.M., and only left me to go and eat.
Saturday, June 26.—Therm. 82°. Symptoms of heat by the haze over the mountains; spoke to the Sheïkh, and all appears to be settled, but the main point is the money. If this is to be exorbitant, I shall give up the thing at once. This question is to be arranged, when Hájí Majíbí comes home. I fear I shall have a quarrel with that fellow before I get off. The Sheïkh recommends the káfilah: I am aware it would be the safer course, but I could not so well make notes and observations, and should be bored to death for advice and medicines during the whole road. If it goes soon, however, I shall join it; if not, I shall proceed with my five or six people. Read the prayers; most of the people here come to listen, although they could not understand a word. The tribe of Ergebát[111] has sent a deputation to the Sheïkh, and have this day been heard, and have explained the cause of their attack upon the Taghakánths. The Sheïkh decided in favour of the Ergebáts, and there is to be a reconciliation and friendship. I must try to profit by this event, and get past the Ergebáts before hostilities are renewed, which will be soon the case. The heat has been oppressive to-day; I am rather glad of it, as it helps to season me for the desert. Hope my party will not come this evening. This is one of the great feasts amongst the Muselmáns; but it is not kept here. The 12th of Safer is Mohammed’s birth-day. Went to rest early, fearing my party would come.
Monday, June 27.—Therm. 86°. The heat has become very oppressive. An express has arrived from Taghakánth, with a report that the place has been attacked by the Ergebáts, who mustered nine hundred men; while the Taghakánths, who were taken by surprise, could bring together only three hundred to meet the enemy: these, however, were sufficient to defeat their assailants, after killing ninety of them, with a very trifling loss on their own part. This is bad news for me, as we shall assuredly be attacked when passing the district of the Ergebáts. The Damánís have set off in haste for their place. Hájí Majíbí has returned; he is brought down considerably, and came in a very humble manner to pay his respects: he is a consummate scoundrel. Had a visit from Mas’úd, who wished to give me a Tumbuktú quilt; but I can take no presents, and he left me in dudgeon at my refusal. I dislike this man more and more. Things are at last in a train; but I had a threatener this morning, having nearly fallen two or three times, in consequence of the great heat and excitement, and the immoderate use of tobacco. I shall try to leave off the pipe, and begin reducing the quantity of fluid. Very weak tea and water have been my only drink for more than three months; and I must now leave off the tea. Attended the unpacking of the ivory: some of the teeth are immense. Abú tells me, that I shall see some as large rotting on dunghills; that the people about Kong live entirely upon elephants, and are constantly employed in hunting them. The small tusks are used for music; but from the want of means of transport, the large ones are thrown away. Hámed has just been here to take leave: he is a most grateful creature, and promises that wherever I meet any people of his tribe, they will respect Ján and Yaghá. He then said he had one more favour to ask: I had cured him, and had given him too many things; but as he knew I could do any thing, “I love,” said he, “the daughter of the brother of my father; she is the prettiest woman in our tribe; I am dying for her; but she does not love me, although I am the Sheïkh’s son, and shall be the Sheïkh myself; give me such a charm, as shall force her to love me.” It was in vain that I told him, I had no love-charm. He said that I had given one to the son of the Sheïkh of Dar’ah, and that his wife had come back to him. I had then to make up a story that I must see the lady, and, as she is unmarried, fold the charm, while she looked on. This he is convinced will prove effectual; and when I get to Taghakánth I am to make him happy. I don’t know what he has promised to do for me. My two guides remain here to make the necessary arrangements about our start. I have been asked, if I will fight, should we be attacked, and have had to give a specimen of my ability to use a sword and pistols. My powder and ball, and every thing else was approved of, and I am promised that all will be well; but that I must make up my mind to some suffering; that they will carry extra water for me, but one Samúm[112] may drink it all up. The die is cast, and I must run the hazard.