A British Consul has told the writer how on one occasion, turning to speak to his kavass who was riding a few yards behind him, he suddenly felt the hot blast and smelt the sulphurous fumes; while the kavass collapsed, and fell from his horse as if he had been shot. Prompt attention and stimulants revived the sufferer on that occasion, but it was a narrow escape. Had he been alone he would have died past question.
Nobody seems to have investigated the matter scientifically, or to have compared it with like phenomena in other lands (such as Scinde for instance) where conditions are similar. It is really not surprising that the natives should put down the effect to a blow from a malignant “Jinn,” though one suspects that as a matter of fact the explanation is this. Sudden contact with the heated, sulphur-laden blast of the little whirlwind just “tips the balance,” and induces a stroke of heat-apoplexy in cases where the victim is already verging on that condition. Possibly the Sâm is a last legacy of the now quiescent volcanoes; for similar sulphurous eddies, of a far less violent description, were playing about the surface of the sea off the Riviera coastline for some time after the great earthquake at San Remo in 1887.
In Mosul the hospitable Consulate received us once more, while the keleg that was to take us down the Tigris to Baghdad was in process of construction. A keleg is probably one of the most ancient types of river craft in the world, and is built in this wise. First, a frame of light poles, much like hop-poles, is tied fairly firmly together with cord. This may be of any size, but a fair-sized one for a small party is perhaps twelve feet square. Next a number of sheep-skins, each taken from the animal with the minimum of cutting, and with all apertures firmly tied up, are fastened beneath that frame. A keleg of the size named requires about 100 skins. These are inflated by the lungs of the[{341}] kelegji, through a reed inserted into one of the legs of the skin; and the legs also form convenient points for attachment to the frame. Finally a few heavy logs, usually poplar or walnut trunks sawn in half, are placed side by side on the frame, so as to form a rough floor, and the craft is complete in all essentials. In our own particular case some further arrangements were made for comfort. A portion of the “deck” was properly floored with boards, and this portion covered with a hut made of reed mats on a light frame, large enough to contain a bed easily, and to serve as living-room during the day.
Such a craft is as buoyant as well can be; this one carrying six men with ease, beside a fair amount of luggage. Its method of progress is simply to drift down the fairly rapid current of the Tigris as far as is required. On reaching the destination, all the wood is sold for what it will fetch to the timber merchants, while the skins are deflated and packed on a donkey for transport up the river, for there is no means of towing the craft back against the stream. A pair of clumsy oars do what steering is necessary, and keep the vessel in the main current.
A raft voyage is probably the most absolutely restful mode of travel known, if only the wanderer is in no hurry to reach his destination; and that of course no genuine traveller ever ought to be. You go on, never hasting, never halting (unless a strong wind happens to pin you to one bank for a while), and the river must get you to your destination at the last. As to dates there is a pleasing uncertainty; but we may say that from Mosul to Baghdad the quickest voyage ever known was two days and a half, and the longest fourteen.
Naturally, you provision your craft for the voyage before starting, getting all that you desire in Mosul; and it may be noted here that for cooking purposes the writer has found nothing better than a “Primus” stove. Ports of call where you can reprovision are not numerous, but they do exist.
For one desiring a rest-cure the method may be recommended confidently. You lie on your camp bed under the[{342}] shade of your grass hut, watching the shore slide past your sleepy eyes. If the heat grows too great, your servant dashes water over the grass matting, and you are cool. Is fruit your desire? He emits a doleful howl, which is answered from the bank, and presently a nude cultivator turns up alongside, buoyed up on the inflated skin on which he has swum out, and towing a large melon from one of the gardens that line the river, which conveniently floats just awash. Is a bath desirable? You strip and slide off the edge of your keleg, taking a sheep-skin to act as buoy, or pillow if you like. You swim for as long as you feel inclined, or drift down while the craft keeps pace with you. You are in the land of the lotus eaters on a keleg voyage—but you had better take a few books to read!
Altogether the writer fully sympathizes with the feeling of a Chaldæan bishop, who was scandalized at discovering that a certain Dominican Father held himself excused from observing Lent during a voyage of this kind “because he was on a journey.” “Why, good gracious,” said his lordship, “he might as well claim exemption from fasting in Paradise!”
It must be owned that there is not much in the way of scenery in this portion of the river. If you want that, you must go to the upper reaches of the Tigris, and travel from Diarbekr down to Mosul, threading the great gorges en route.[151] There you will get magnificence, and it may be excitement too; for there are rapids in the defile, and kelegs have been known to be wrecked in them. Mesopotamia does not give you mountains. Still, there is one stretch of fair scenery (though not a gorge to be compared with the canons of Tyari), where the “Jebel Makdul” crosses the river, and a fine stretch of dull red cliff, relieved by a wide streak of grey alabaster, lines the bank for some miles. Here stands a fine old stronghold, much resembling one of the Rhine castles, the “Kalat-el-Bint,” or Maiden Castle. Shortly after, you pass a sulphur spring, which is not an[{343}] uncommon thing in the land; still, it is not often that you find one so odoriferous as to awake the peaceful slumberer in mid-stream!
Somewhat lower, the lesser Zab joins the Tigris, descending from a city that we visited at one period of our wanderings in the land, and of which we include a picture.