The Life and Adventures of Bruce, the African Traveller

by Sir Francis Bond Head

To the eye which has for a length of time viewed nothing but fertile land, the sight of the sea is always delightful: it roams with pleasure over the wide expanse of moving waters, revelling in the freedom and freshness of a new element. But to the parched, thirsting, and weary traveller, who has journeyed over the scorched, arid, lifeless desert of Africa, in whose imagination water is wealth, the sudden view of the great ocean creates ecstatic feelings which it is utterly impossible to describe.

Cosseir is a small mud-walled village, built on the shore of the Red Sea. It is defended by a square fort, containing a few pieces of cannon, just sufficient to terrify the Arabs from plundering the town, which is often filled with corn going to Mecca. Bruce had an order from Sheikh Haman to lodge in the castle; but, a few hours before he arrived, Hussein Bey, landing from Mecca and Jidda, had taken possession of the apartments. This bey, however, hearing that the English traveller had the firman of the grand seignior, with letters from the Bey of Cairo, and that he had, moreover, furnished the stranger Turks with water in the desert, of his own accord made himself acquainted with Bruce, treating him with attention and respect; and no sooner was this observed by his fellow-travellers, the Turks, than they complained to Hussein Bey that one of the Arabs had attempted to rob them in the desert.

"What is the reason," said this great man, very gravely, to Bruce, "that, when you English people know so well what good government is, you did not order his head to be struck off when you had him in your hands, before the door of the tent?" "Sir," replied Bruce, with the real feelings of a "Briton and a Christian," "I know well what good government is, but, being a stranger and a Christian, I have no sort of title to exercise the power of life and death in this country: only in this one case, when a man attempts my life, then I think I am warranted to defend myself, whatever may be the consequence to him. My men took him in the fact, and they had my orders, in such cases, to beat the offenders, so that they should not steal these two months again. They did so: that was punishment enough in cold blood." "But my blood," interrupted the bey, "never cools with regard to such rascals as these. Go! (he called one of his attendants) tell Hassan, the head of the caravan, from me, that, unless he hangs that Arab before sunrise to-morrow, I will carry him in irons to Furshoot."

While Bruce was at Cosseir, the caravan from Syene arrived, escorted by four hundred Ababdé, armed with javelins, and mounted on camels, two on each, sitting back to back: they conducted a thousand camels laden with wheat. The whole town was in terror at the influx of so many barbarians; and even Bruce sent all his instruments, money, books, and baggage to a chamber in the castle. The following morning, as he was loitering in dishabille on the shore, looking for seashells, one of his servants came to him in great alarm, to say that the Ababdé had been told that Bruce's Arab, Abd-el-gin, was an Atouni, their enemy, and that they had therefore dragged him away to cut his throat. Bruce, dressed as he was, with a common red turban on his head, vaulted on his servant's horse, and galloping through the townspeople, who fancied, with alarm, that the Ababdé were pursuing him, reached the sands, and proceeding as hard as he could go for nearly two miles, he saw a crowd of Arabs before him. Desirous to save the life of the poor wretch his servant, he had totally forgotten his own safety.

"Upon my coming near them," says Bruce, "six or eight of them surrounded me on horseback, and began to gabble in their own language. I was not very fond of my situation. It would have cost them nothing to thrust a lance through my back and taken the horse away; and, after stripping me, to have buried me in a hillock of sand, if they were so kind as to give themselves that last trouble. However, I pricked up courage, and, putting on the best appearance I could, said to them steadily, without trepidation, 'What men are these before?' The answer, after some pause, was, 'They are men;' and they looked very queerly, as if they meant to ask each other 'What sort of spark is this?' 'Are those before us Ababdé?' said I; 'are they from Sheikh Amner?' One of them nodded, and grunted sullenly rather than said, 'Ay, Ababdé, from Sheikh Amner.' 'Then, salum alicum!' said I, 'we are brethren. How does the Nimmer? Who commands you here? Where is Ibrahim?' At the mention of the Nimmer (the Tiger) and Ibrahim, their countenance changed, not to anything sweeter or gentler than before, but to a look of great surprise. They had not returned my salutation, 'Peace be between us;' but one of them asked me who I was. 'Tell me first,' said I, 'who is that you have before?' 'It is an Arab, our enemy,' says he, 'guilty of our blood.' 'It is not so,' replied I; 'he is my servant, a Howadat Arab; his tribe lives in peace at the gates of Cairo, in the same manner yours of Sheikh Amner does at those of Assouan. I ask you, where is Ibrahim, your sheikh's son?' 'Ibrahim,' says he, 'is at our head; he commands us here. But who are you?' 'Come with me, and show me Ibrahim,' said I, 'and I will show you who I am.'

"I passed by these and by another party of them. They had thrown a hair rope about the neck of Abd-el-gin, who was almost strangled already, and cried out most miserably to me not to leave him. I went directly to the black tent, which I saw had a long spear thrust up in the end of it, and met at the door Ibrahim and his brother, and seven or eight Ababdé. He did not recollect me, but I dismounted close to the tent door, and had scarcely taken hold of the pillar of the tent, and said 'Fiarduc!' when Ibrahim and his brother both knew me. 'What!' said they, 'are you Yagoube, our physician and our friend? 'Let me ask you,' replied I, 'if you are the Ababdé of Sheikh Amner, that cursed yourselves and your children if you ever 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 Amner—there are no other; and we still say, Cursed be he, whether our father or child, that lifts his hand against you in the desert or in the ploughed field.' 'Then,' said I, 'you are all accursed in the desert and in the field, for a number of your people are going to murder my servant. They took him, indeed, from my house in the town; perhaps that is not included in your curse, as it is neither in the desert nor the ploughed field.' I was very angry. 'Whew!' said Ibrahim, with a kind of whistle, 'that is downright nonsense. Who are those of my people that 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 me, he desired I would go into the tent and sit down. 'For God renounce me and mine,' says 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!' A number of people, who had seen me at Sheikh Amner, now came all around me; some with complaints of sickness, some with compliments, more with impertinent questions that had no relation to either. At last came in the culprit Abd-el-gin, with forty or fifty of the Ababdé who had gathered round him, but no rope about his neck."

Upon inquiring why the Ababdé wished to murder Abd-el-gin, Bruce was informed that the captain of his caravan, Hassan, had insidiously persuaded them to kill this man, against whom he had long entertained a great enmity. "I cannot help here," continues Bruce, "accusing myself of what, doubtless, may be well reputed a very great sin, the more so that I cannot say I have yet heartily repented of it. I was so enraged at the traitorous part which Hassan had acted, that, at parting, I could not help saying to Ibrahim, 'Now, sheikh, I have done everything you have desired, without ever expecting fee or reward; the only thing I now ask you, and it is probably the last, is, that you revenge me upon this Hassan, who is every day in your power.' Upon this he gave me his hand, saying, 'He shall not die in his bed, or I shall never see old age.'"

The above anecdote clearly proves (what, indeed, requires no demonstration) that Bruce was by no means a faultless man; and for this act he has been very severely and justly condemned.

While Bruce was thus engaged on the sands with the Ababdé Arabs, a vessel was seen in distress, and all the boats went to tow her in. Nothing can be more dangerous than the corn-trade as it is carried on in the Red Sea: the vessels have no decks, are filled full of wheat, and are continually lost; but scarcely have they sunk out of sight when their fate is equally out of mind. The people are deaf alike to experience, reason, and advice, and crying Ullah Kerim! (God is great and merciful!) they launch and despatch other vessels, trusting that by some miracle they shall be saved.

Bruce having determined to attempt making a survey of the Red Sea down to the Straits of Babelmandel (which means the gate of affliction), took passages for himself and his party in a vessel that was shortly to be ready to receive him. The rais or captain was thought to be a saint; and he gravely assured Bruce, that any rock which stood in the way of his vessel would either jump aside, or else turn quite soft like a sponge. Previous to sailing with this man, Bruce embarked in a small boat, the planks of which, instead of being nailed, were sewn together; and, with the assistance of a sort of straw mattress as a sail, he departed on the 14th of March from the harbour of Cosseir, with an Arab guide, to go to Gibel Zurmud, the emerald mines described by Pliny and other writers. On the 16th he landed on a desert point, and at last came to the foot of these mountains. Inquiring of his guide the name of the spot, the fellow told him it was called "Saiel." "They are never," says Bruce, "at a loss for a name; and those who do not understand the language always believe them. He knew not the name of the place, and perhaps it had no name; but he called it Saiel, which signifies a male acacia-tree, merely because he saw one growing there." Near the foot of the mountain Bruce found five small pits or shafts, from which the ancients are supposed to have drawn emeralds; and then, without having seen a living creature of any sort, he returned to his boat, and proceeded to the islands of Gibel Macowar, to one of which he gave his own name. He was anxious to have sailed still farther towards the south; but signs of an approaching storm obliged him to turn and make for Cosseir. A most violent tempest of wind and rain overtook them; and the rais being completely overcome by fear, Bruce, unable to lower the yard, proposed to cut the straw mainsail to pieces. The rais, terrified at the storm, instantly turned towards Bruce with clasped hands and uplifted eyes, and began muttering to him something about the mercy and merits of Sidi Ali el Genowi. "Confound Sidi Ali el Genowi," said Bruce, "you beast, cannot you give me a rational answer?" and, getting the mainsail in his arms, with a large knife he cut it into shreds. On the 19th of March, a little before sunset, they reached the harbour of Cosseir, where they learned that three vessels had perished in the night, with all their hands.