But-as philosophically remarked by Sir Cauline the Knyghte-
"Every whyte must have its blacke,
And every sweete its soure-"
this charming coral reef was nearly being the scene of an ugly accident. The breeze from seaward set us slowly but steadily towards the reef, a fact of which we soon became conscious. Our anchor was not dragging; it had not rope enough to touch the bottom, and vainly we sought for more. In fact the "Golden Wire" was as disgracefully deficient in all the appliances of safety, as any English merchantman in the nineteenth century,-a circumstance which accounts for the shipwrecks and for the terrible loss of life perpetually occurring about the Pilgrimage-season in these seas. Had she struck upon the razor-like edges of the coral-reef, she would have melted
[p.220] away like a sugar-plum in the ripple, for the tide was rising at the time. Having nothing better to do, we began to make as much noise as possible. Fortunately for us, the Rais commanding the Persian's boat was an Arab from Jeddah; and more than once we had treated him with great civility. Guessing the cause of our distress, he sent two sailors overboard with a cable; they swam gallantly up to us; and in a few minutes we were safely moored to the stern of our useful neighbour. Which done, we applied ourselves to the grateful task of beating our Rais, and richly had he deserved it. Before noon, when the wind was shifting, he had not once given himself the trouble to wear; and when the breeze was falling, he preferred dosing to taking advantage of what little wind remained. With energy we might have been moored that night comfortably under the side of Hassani Island, instead of floating about on an unquiet sea with a lee-shore of coral-reef within a few yards of our counter.
At dawn the next day (15th July) we started. We made Jabal Hassani[FN#16] about noon, and an hour or so before sunset we glided into Marsa Mahar. Our resting-place resembled Marsa Dumayghah at an humble distance; the sides of the cove, however, were bolder and more precipitous. The limestone rocks presented a peculiar appearance; in some parts the base and walls had crumbled away, leaving a coping to project like a canopy; in others the wind and rain had cut deep holes, and pierced the friable material with caverns that looked like the work of art. There was a pretty opening of backwood at the bottom of the
[p.221] cove; and palm trees in the blue distance gladdened our eyes, which pined for the sight of something green. The Rais, as usual, would have terrified us with a description of the Hutaym tribe that holds these parts, and I knew from Welsted and Moresby that it is a debased race. But forty-eight hours of cramps on board ship would make a man think lightly of a much more imminent danger.
Wading to shore we cut our feet with the sharp rocks. I remember to have felt the acute pain of something running into my toe: but after looking at the place and extracting what appeared to be a bit of thorn,[FN#17] I dismissed the subject, little guessing the trouble it was to give me. Having scaled the rocky side of the cove, we found some half-naked Arabs lying in the shade; they were unarmed, and had nothing about them except their villainous countenances wherewith to terrify the most timid. These men still live in limestone caves, like the Thamud tribe of tradition; also they are Ichthyophagi, existing without any other subsistence but what the sea affords. They were unable to provide us with dates, flesh, or milk, but they sold us a kind of fish called in India "Bui": broiled upon the embers, it proved delicious.
After we had eaten and drunk and smoked, we began to make merry; and the Persians, who, fearing to come on shore, had kept to their conveyance, appeared proper butts for the wit of some of our party: one of us stood up and pronounced the orthodox call to prayer, after which the rest joined in a polemical hymn, exalting the virtues
[p.222] and dignity of the first three Caliphs.[FN#18] Then, as general on such occasions, the matter was made personal by informing the Persians in a kind of rhyme sung by the Meccan gamins, that they were the "slippers of Ali and the dogs of Omar." But as they were too frightened to reply, my companions gathered up their cooking utensils, and returned to the "Golden Wire," melancholy, like disappointed candidates for the honours of Donnybrook.
Our next day was silent and weary, for we were all surly, and heartily sick of being on board ship. We should have made Yambu' in the evening but for the laziness of the Rais. Having duly beaten him, we anchored on the open coast, insufficiently protected by a reef, and almost in sight of our destination. In the distance rose Jabal Radhwah or Radhwa,[FN#19] one of the "Mountains of Paradise[FN#20]" in which honoured Arabia abounds. It is celebrated by poetry as well as by piety.