A Pilgrimage to Nejd Volume Ii Part 7

We were now left alone with Dakher and his crew, who sat round us while with infinite labour we loaded our camels. Poor old Hajji Mohammed in his rusty uniform, with his sword dangling between his legs, was anything but an efficient camel-man, and in spite of the best will in the world things proceeded slowly. It was as much as we could get out of Dakher that he should tell one of his sulky fellows to lend an occasional hand to the work, and keep the rest from getting in our way. The help was given grudgingly, and in obedience rather to Wilfrid's command, for he was now obliged to talk loud, than of good-will. Dakher, however, kept up a semblance of politeness, being still our host, a position sacred even in the eyes of the most abandoned, and when his brother Ghafil appeared, announcing himself as our escort, we were suffered to depart.

Once on our horses, and with the camels driven in front of us, we felt more at ease; yet all were not a little anxious. We should, I think, have turned back now but for the recollection of Beneyeh and the river Tibb behind us, evils we knew of while the unknown evils before us seemed preferable. For a while, too, we flattered ourselves with the idea that Ghafil was to be our only company, and for a mile or two the illusion lasted, and we were rea.s.sured. There is something, besides, in a very bright morning's march through a beautiful country, for we were close to the hills, which prevents one feeling anxious, and whatever its inhabitants may be, this frontier-land of Persia looks like a Garden of Eden, with its gra.s.s and flowers knee deep in every hollow.

Ghafil is another and a worse edition of Dakher, having, over and above his brother's vices of countenance, a most abominable squint. His face looks always like a thunder-cloud, and the smiles on it, (for he smiles sometimes, showing a wonderful set of white teeth from ear to ear) are like the smiles of a wild beast. He has, too, a sort of cat's manner, soft and cowardly, but very offensive. At starting, and as long as he was alone with us, he seemed amiable enough, but at the end of about an hour we came up with the rest of the party in whose company we were to travel, and then his demeanour changed. These were not hors.e.m.e.n, or an escort at all, but a collection of the most extraordinary vagabonds we have ever seen. There were about forty of them, with about twice as many beasts, camels, and oxen, which they were driving before them loaded with empty sacks. Amongst them were two women on foot, and there was a single horseman heading the procession, mounted on a little white mare. We asked them where they were going, and they answered, "To Dizful, to buy corn," and then in return plied us with a hundred questions. Many of these were not a little impertinent, but by parrying some, and affecting not to understand the rest, we managed to hold our own, even returning some of their small wit with interest on themselves. Hajji Mohammed, however, poor man, was soon singled out as a special b.u.t.t for their mirth. His old uniform coat they found supremely absurd, and he was as mercilessly chaffed about his tailor as if he had been amongst a party of roughs on the Epsom Downs, while he had not the sense always to keep his temper. There was, besides, something more than mere high spirits in their wit. He was a Suni, and they were s.h.i.+as, and religious bitterness made them bitter. From words at last they seemed rapidly coming to blows, when Wilfrid interfered, making his horse curvet amongst them, and dispersing them for a while. But they soon returned, and it was all we could do to prevent the poor cava.s.s from being maltreated. One called on him to dismount and give him a ride, another to let him have a shot with his gun, and a third to fill him a pipe of tobacco, to none of which demands the unfortunate Hajji knew how to give the proper refusal. "Ya Hajji," "Ya Hajji," was the perpetual cry all the morning long; "Where is your pipe? where is your tobacco? Quick, I am thirsting for a smoke."

Ghafil in the meanwhile would do nothing or could do nothing in the way of control, sitting on his camel gloomily in silence, or talking in an undertone with a great one-eyed rascal, more villainously hideous than himself. The position was often almost unbearable, and only the doctrine of patience which we had learned in Arabia, and a constant show of good humour to the crowd, made it tolerable. In the course of the afternoon, however, we managed to get upon some sort of friendly terms with two or three of the rabble, so that by the evening, when we stopped, we had established a little party among them in our favour. This, I believe, was the means of preventing a worse disaster, for it is nearly certain that Ghafil and the more serious of the party meant us deliberate mischief.

About an hour before sunset we came to a broad river, broader and deeper than the Tibb, and here Ghafil decreed a halt. If we had been a strong enough party to s.h.i.+ft for ourselves, and if we could have crossed the river alone, we should now have gone on and left our persecutors behind; but in our helpless state this was impossible, and we had no choice but to dismount. It was an anxious moment, but I think we did what was wisest in showing no sign of distrust; and we had no sooner stopped than we gave one a horse to hold, and another a gun, while we called on others to help us unload the camels, and get out coffee and provisions for a general feast. This seemed to most of them too good an offer to be declined, and we had already distributed a sack of flour and a sack of rice amongst them, which the two women had promised to bake into loaves for the whole party, when Ghafil and the one-eyed man, who had been down to look for a ford, arrived upon the scene. They were both very angry when they saw the turn things had taken, and were at first for forbidding the people to eat with us, alleging that we were kaffirs (infidels), so at least the people informed us later, but this was more than they could insist on. They would not, however, themselves eat with us or taste our coffee, and remained apart with those of the party which had not made friends with us. The women were on our side, and the better sort of the young men. Still it was a terribly anxious evening, for even our friends were as capricious as the winds, and seemed always on the point of picking an open quarrel. Later, they all went away and left us to our own devices, sitting round a great bonfire of brushwood they had built up, "to scare away lions," they said. We managed to rig up our tent, and make a barricade of the camel-bags in such a way that we could not be surprised and taken at a disadvantage. I did not shut my eyes all night, but lay watching the bonfire, win my hand on my gun. Hajji Mohammed once in the darkness crept out and got near enough to overhear something of their talk, and he a.s.sures us that there was a regular debate as to whether and when and how we should be murdered, in which the princ.i.p.al advocate of extreme measures was the one-eyed man, a great powerful ruffian who carried a sort of club, which he told us he used to frighten the lions, beating it on the ground. The noise, he declared, sounded like a gun and drove them away. With this tale of horror Hajji Mohammed returned to comfort us; nor was it wholly a delusion, for in the middle of the night, Wilfrid being asleep, and Hajji Mohammed, whose watch it was, having fallen into a doze, I distinctly saw Ghafil, who had previously come under pretext of lions or robbers to reconnoitre, prowl stealthily round, and seeing us all as he thought asleep, lift up the flap of the tent and creep under on Wilfrid's side. I had remained motionless, and from where I lay I could see his figure plainly against the sky. As he stooped I called out in a loud voice, "Who goes there?"

and at the sound he started back, and slunk away. This woke Hajji Mohammed, and n.o.body slept again, but I could see Ghafil prowling like an hyaena round us the best part of the night. {152}

Hajji Mohammed has behaved very well, though he owns himself much frightened. So am I, only I conceal my alarm better than he does.

Indeed I am sure that putting on a bold face is our only chance of safety, for nothing but cowardice now prevents Ghafil and his set from attacking us. We are well armed, and he knows he could not do it with impunity. As long as we are on horseback, I believe we run no great risk, but the night is a disagreeable time. If we had only open desert in front of us we could set them all at defiance.

_March_ 31.-The morning broke tempestuously, and we were afraid the river might have risen in the night, a complication which would have probably decided our fate; but though the clouds lay black and heavy on the hills there was no flood. After trying several places, all of which proved too deep, our akid, the man on the white mare, found a ford, if such it can be called, for the water was over his mare's back, and all the party followed him. The robbers, for so I now call them, pa.s.sed easily enough, for their camels were unloaded, but ours barely managed it. The current was very strong, and though Hatheran and the strongest of them came on boldly, two of them stopped in the middle and seemed on the point of turning down and being swept away, when Wilfrid rode back below them, into the deep water, and drove them on. It was nervous work to watch them, seeing nothing of rider and horse but their heads, but Job swam very well, and the camels were saved and all got safely over. This incident proved a fortunate one, for it impressed the better sort of the robbers with an idea of our determination, and there was again a party in our favour. It was fortunate that it was so, for we were no sooner across than Ghafil and the one-eyed monster, Saadun, came forward with a more menacing manner than they had yet dared to show, and said we should proceed no further. It was plain enough what they meant, but we affected not to understand them, and declaring in a cheerful tone that it was a charming spot to stay in, with plenty of gra.s.s and water for the beasts, at once consented to a halt. Wilfrid begged Ghafil to sit down and smoke a pipe with him, and when the man sulkily demurred, insisted on it.

"Now, Ghafil," he said, "here you are my guest, as we have been yours; what can I do for you to make you happy?" "Wallah, ya Beg," interposed Saadun, "you have done nothing for him or any of us, and now you must."

"Must? Indeed, I shall be too delighted. Tell me only in what I can a.s.sist you-what it is that Ghafil wants." Ghafil then began a long history about his dignity as Sheykh of the expedition, and the disgrace it was to him to have received no cloak of honour from the Beg, and the insult that he had thus received from us-at all which Wilfrid expressed the greatest possible pain and surprise. {154} "There has been some mistake here," he said; "I would not for the world that anyone should be treated with less respect than was his due by me. The disgrace would be mine;" and he made a show of taking off his own cloak to give him; still Ghafil seemed dissatisfied. "No, no, it is not that," said Saadun, in a stage whisper, "what the Sheykh wants is money-money, do you see?-money for all of us." "And is it possible," exclaimed Wilfrid, "that you have all remained unpaid?-that Beneyeh gave you nothing of what he received from me?-that you have been working for me, 'balash,' for nothing? This is indeed a disgrace. Come, Saadun, let us talk this matter over and repair the mistake." He then took the one-eyed man by the arm and led him aside for a private conference, while Ghafil sat on gloomily with me.

Wilfrid's first care, when he got the Kurd alone, was to square him with a present of ten krans (francs) for his own account, and a promise of twenty more when we got to the Kerkha, judging rightly that this fellow was in fact our most dangerous enemy. Then he intrusted him with negotiating the rest of the blackmail with Ghafil. We were prepared now for almost any demand, for we were completely in their power, and had a sum of nearly 100 with us, besides property to the value of perhaps as much more. We were consequently no little relieved when Saadun returned with a demand of one hundred krans, and a silk abba, in return for Ghafil's protection. This, after much affected reluctance to part with so enormous a sum, and a declaration at one moment that rather than pay we would stay where we were for a month, we at last produced-giving the robber the very silk abba which had been one of Ibn Ras.h.i.+d's presents to us in Nejd-a white silk one, embroidered with gold, but the only one we had; which being done we were suffered to proceed. The truth of the matter probably is that Ghafil dared not drive us to extremities, partly from physical fear, for we soon had proof sufficient of his cowardice, and partly because many of his men would not have joined him in a deed of violence. Bloodshed is a thing no Arab willingly consents to, however low his morality, especially where a guest, or one who has been a guest, is in question; and though the mongrel Kurds and Persians, who made up more than half the band, would have abetted him, the rest would not. One of the women, too, was Ghafil's wife, and the women were openly friends with us. Another consideration may have been that we were entering now upon an enemy's country, for the Dueri is the limit of Beni Laam authority, and our men were too miserable cowards not to count upon us for something in case of attack. Part of our agreement with Ghafil was that we were to fight for him in case of need against the Persians, a promise we readily gave. The atmosphere now was somewhat cleared, and we started afresh under rather better conditions. The teasing of Hajji Mohammed continued, but we ourselves were treated with respect, and the one-eyed Kurd even occasionally lent a hand in driving the camels, in company with a youth clothed in green, who had hitherto been one of our worst persecutors.

The whole party proceeded cautiously, avowing without the slightest shame their immense fear of the Ajjem (the Persians), whom they expected to meet at every turn of the road. Beyond the Dueri we found ourselves in a beaten track, which winds up and down over an undulating bit of desert, the last ripple of the Hamrin hills which are now behind us. The akid usually rode on in front to spy out possible enemies, and all had orders to keep together. Ours, however, was such a noisy party, that one would have thought its pa.s.sage could have been heard for miles round. The bullocks were getting tired and required a great deal of driving, and the shouting and screaming reminded one of an Irish fair. So we went on without a halt till three o'clock, when a halt was ordered in a hollow, where we were out of sight of enemies, and where there was a quant.i.ty of wild celery, and another edible plant called "hakallah," which we found good, for we had eaten nothing all day. Not far off were some sand mounds, with tufts of what looked very like ithel, but we dared not leave our camels to inspect them. The halt was only for half-an-hour; then with shouts of "Yalla yalla, erkob, erkob," the mob went on.

We stopped again suddenly about an hour before sunset, and this time in alarm. The akid, who had ridden to the top of a low hill, was seen waving, as he came back, his abba, and instantly the cry arose, "El Ajjem, el Ajjem." In an instant everybody was huddled together in a hollow place, like a covey of partridges when they see a hawk, and we were entreated, commanded to dismount. A few hurried words with the akid confirmed the terrible news of danger to the band, and all seemed at their wits' end with terror. "How many hors.e.m.e.n?-how many?" we inquired.

"Five," was the answer, "but there are more behind; and then these are the _Ajjem_!" "And if they _are_ the Ajjem, and only five of them, are you not forty of you here and able to fight?" "No, no!" they screamed, "you do not understand. These hors.e.m.e.n are Persians-Persians; every one of them capable of killing five of us." I did not think men could be so craven-hearted. A few of the least cowardly now crept up to the hill-top and one by one came back to report; the number of hors.e.m.e.n seen rose rapidly from five to fifteen and eventually to fifty. When the last number was reached, the coward Ghafil, who had kept well in the middle of the mob, so as to be in the least possible danger, came to us with his softest and most cringing manner, forgetful of all his bullying, and begged us to be sure and do our best in the battle which was imminent.

"You should stand in front of the others," he said, "and shoot as fast as you can, and straight, so as to kill these Ajjem-dead you understand-it is better to shoot them dead. You, khatun, know how to shoot, I am sure-and you will not be afraid." We could not help laughing at him, which shocked him dreadfully. Presently a man came rus.h.i.+ng up to say the enemy was coming, and again there was unutterable confusion. The boy in green had begged some percussion caps of Wilfrid for his gun, and had been given fifty, and this now led to a wrangle, as he refused to share his prize with the rest. Everybody was trying to borrow everybody else's gun or spear or bludgeon, for they were very rudely armed, and n.o.body would stand in front, but everybody behind. The women alone seemed to have got their heads, while Ghafil, white in the face, walked nervously up and down. We and the cava.s.s stood a little apart from the rest, holding our horses, ready to fire and mount, and Wilfrid occupied the interval of expectation with giving me instructions what to do if we got separated in the fray. I was too well mounted to be overtaken, and was to make for the Kerkha river, which we knew could not be far away to the east, and put myself under the protection of the first Persian khan I should meet there; if possible, Kerim Khan, to whom I had a letter in my pocket, and who is a vakil of the Persian Government. We hoped, however, that we might be able to keep together, and beat off the enemy. Wilfrid called out to Ghafil, "You must tell me when to fire," but Ghafil was too frightened to reply. Several of the men, however, called out, "Shoot at anybody you see-everybody here is an enemy." The camels had been made to kneel down, and the cattle had been huddled together; only a few of all the mob looked as if they really meant to fight. They were silent enough now, talking only in whispers. So we remained perhaps for half-an-hour; then somebody ran up the hill again to look, and Wilfrid, tired of waiting, proposed that we should eat our dinner, as we had had nothing all day. I got some bread and a pomegranate out of the delul bag, and we were soon at work, much to the disgust of the rest, who were shocked at our levity in such a moment. Presently there was another alarm and the people called to me to come inside their square, meaning kindly I think, but of course we would do no such thing, being really much safer where we were with our mares. Still no enemy came, and when we had finished our meal we tied our horses' halters to our arms and lay down in our cloaks; we were very tired and soon were sound asleep. Nothing more was heard of the enemy that night.

But our troubles were not to end here. We were hardly comfortably asleep, before a tremendous crash of thunder roused us and a downpour of rain. On putting our heads out of our cloaks we saw our valiant escort rigging up our servants' tent for themselves. They were terribly afraid of getting washed in the rain, and were shrieking to us to come inside too, indignant at Wilfrid's "ma yukhalif" ("never mind"), with which he had already treated their remonstrances on other occasions. Indeed, "ma yukhalif" had now become a sort of nickname with them, and no dishonourable one, I think, for the person concerned. We neither of us could think of joining them in the tent, but having managed to get a couple of horse-rugs from the delul bag, we covered ourselves over again and went to sleep; Sayad and s.h.i.+ekha creeping in under them to keep us company. All of a sudden the rain stopped, and before we were well aware, the mob was again on the march. It was pitch dark, and we were within an ace of being left behind, a circ.u.mstance which perhaps we should have hardly regretted. Still, now we felt that our position with the robbers was such, that we ran less danger in their company than alone; and we all hurried on together. Ghafil was polite again; and the rest, feeling, I suppose, that the journey was nearly over, and their power over us vanis.h.i.+ng, even made us offers of a.s.sistance. A long, weary night march we had, and at dawn found ourselves descending rapidly into a broad plain, knee deep in pasture. This was the valley of the Kerkha; and as it grew light we became aware of a long line of mounds, with two kubbrs or shrines in front of us, which Ghafil told us were the ruins of Eywan. At seven o'clock we saw tents within the circuit of the ancient city, and some shepherds in conical felt caps, and sheepskin dresses, the costume of the Bactiari and other tribes of Kurdish origin.

We were in Persia.

Ghafil now went forward to announce our arrival to Sirdal Khan, the chieftain at whose tents we now are. But I must leave further details for to-morrow.

[Picture: Canora]

CHAPTER III.

"Henceforth in safe a.s.surance may ye rest, Having both found a new friend you to aid, And lost an old foe that did you molest, Better new friend than an old foe is said."

FAeRY QUEEN.

A prince in exile-Tea money-Rafts on the Kerkha-Last words with the Beni Laam-Kerim Khan-Beautiful Persia-We arrive at Dizful.

SIRDAL KHAN is a Shahzade, or member of the Royal family of Persia, many of whom are to be found living in official, and even private capacities in different parts of the kingdom. He himself had fallen into disgrace with the Court many years ago, and had been exiled from Persia proper, a misfortune which led to his taking up his residence with a section of the semi-dependent Seguand tribe of Lurs, where he became Khan or Chieftain.

Both in looks and in manner, he stands in striking contrast with the people round him, having the handsome, regular features, long nose and melancholy, almond-shaped eyes of the family of the Shah, which, I believe, is not of Persian origin, and a certain dignity of bearing very different from the rude want of manners of the Lurs. These would seem to be of Tartar origin, coa.r.s.e-featured, short-faced men, honest in their way and brave, but quite ignorant of those graces of address which even the worst Arabs are not wholly without. Sirdal, when he arrived among the Lurs, was possessed of considerable wealth, which he invested in flocks and herds, and until a short time before our visit he was living in Bedouin magnificence. But his enemies it would seem still pursued him, and not satisfied with his disgrace, molested him even in his exile.

By some means, the rights of which we did not learn, they managed to instigate against him a rival chief, one Kerim Khan, who, under Government sanction, made a successful raid upon his flocks, stripping the unfortunate prince of everything, and driving him and his tribe across the Kerkha river into the No Man's Land, which lies between Persia and Turkey, and which we had just crossed. In this position he has been obliged to maintain himself as he could, making terms with Mizban and the Beni Laam, who are his nearest neighbours westwards. The river Kerkha is considered the boundary of Persia, and as it is a large and rapid river, nearly half a mile across, he is in comparative safety from the east.

Ghafil, therefore, as a Beni Laam, was on friendly terms with him, though it was easy to see that he despised and had no kind of sympathy with him or the ruffians of his band. By Hajji Mohammed's advice, and to secure ourselves against further risks at their hands, we accordingly placed ourselves at once under the Khan's protection. Hajji Mohammed fortunately knows both Persian and Kurdish, and soon explained to Sirdal the circ.u.mstances of our position, and he, delighted to meet once more with respectable people, readily a.s.sented. He received us with great kindness, made us comfortable in his tent, which, in spite of his poverty, was still more luxurious than any found among the Arabs; having part.i.tions of matting worked in worsted with birds and beasts, carpets, and a fire, and gave us what we were much in want of, an excellent breakfast of well served rice and lamb. Then, when we had pitched our own tent just outside, he provided us with an efficient guard of Lurs, who soon sent our robber acquaintance of the last few days about their business. There is no love lost between them and the Arabs. Presently I received a visit from the Khan's wife, whom he has lately married, and his mother, a well-bred person with perfect manners, and a refined, pleasing face. She was in black, in mourning she explained for a son; she has five sons, including the Khan, whose brothers live with him. A crowd of Seguand ladies came in her company, and an Arab woman who had been nurse to one of the Khan's children, and who served me as interpreter. Ghafil's wife, too, one of the poor women who had travelled with us, came in and joined the conversation. She is loud in her complaints of Ghafil, who treats her ill. He is now very polite, and presented himself during the afternoon at our tent as if nothing had happened, with a little girl named Norah in his arms whom he told us was his niece, he having a sister here married to one of Sirdal's men. I had a carpet spread for the ladies outside our tent, for it could not have held them all, and they sat round me for an hour or more, curious and enquiring, but exceedingly polite. They admired especially my boots and gloves, which I pulled off to show them. One of them, turning up my sleeve, exclaimed at the whiteness of my wrist. At the end of an hour the elder lady rose, and wis.h.i.+ng me affectionately good morning, took her leave, the rest following.

We then had a pleasant day of peace and a sound night's rest, hardly disturbed by the ferocious shouting and singing of our guard, which, under other circ.u.mstances, might have been frightening. Anything more wild and barbarous than their chaunting I never listened to, but to us it was sweet as music, for we knew that it was raised to scare our jackals, the Beni Laam.

_April_ 2.-Next day we crossed the Kerkha. When we saw the size of the river, swollen with melted snow and running eight miles an hour, and as wide as the Thames at Greenwich, we felt thankful indeed for having met Sirdal Khan. Here there would have been no fording possible, and we, or at least our goods, would have been at the mercy of our robber escort.

The Khan, however, agreed for a sum of money, 100 krans (nothing in Persia is done for nothing, either by prince or peasant), to have us ferried over with our baggage to the Persian sh.o.r.e, and our camels and horses swum after us. Hospitality is not a virtue real or pretended with the Persians, and the Khan, prince as he was and a really charming man, explained to Hajji Mohammed without affectation, that sixty of the one hundred krans he would count as "tea money," or as the Spaniards would say, "ruido de casa," payment for board and lodging. To this, however, we were indifferent, and appreciate none the less his kindness and good manners. He rode with us himself to the river on a well-bred Arabian mare he told us was "asil," as it well might be, and saw that all things in the matter of the rafts were done as they should be. At first we rode through the mounds of Eywan, which are disposed in a quadrangle fronting the river, and where we found plentiful remains of pottery; then past the kubbr of I forget what Mohammedan saint, facing a similar kubbr on the eastern bank; then across some fordable branches of the river and islands clothed with guttub and canora trees, to the main body of the Kerkha, where we found a raft preparing. The canora bushes had fruit on them, which the Khan politely picked, and gave me to eat, little yellow fruits, pleasantly acid, like medlars, and with stones inside.

The pa.s.sage of the river was a tedious, not to say difficult, process, the single raft being composed of twenty skins only, and very crank. We found besides, to our disgust, and also waiting to take advantage of our pa.s.sage, our late disagreeable companions, Ghafil, the one-eyed Kurd, and all the rest, who presently began a loud argument with the Lurs as to who should pilot our camels through the water, a ticklish duty, which required both knowledge of the animals and skill in swimming, to perform successfully. At first we were naturally in favour of the Lurs, and unwilling to trust any part of our property with the mongrel Arabs; but when it came to the point of testing their capabilities, the Lurs broke lamentably down, being hardly able to manage the camels even on dry land, so by the Khan's advice we let the Bedouins manage the business, which I must say they performed with no little courage and skill. It takes two men to swim a camel safely. First of all the beast must be unloaded to the skin. Then a cord is tied to the tail for one man to hold by, and another mounts on his back. Thus he is driven into the water, and pushed on gradually till he loses his legs. The man on his back then floats off down stream of him, and holding with one hand by the hump, splashes water in the camel's face to keep his head straight, while the other urges him from behind. The camel seems heavier than most animals in the water, showing nothing but the tip of his nose above the surface, and he is a slow swimmer. It was an anxious quarter of an hour for us while they were crossing, and great was the speculation among the bystanders as to the result. "Yetla," "ma yetla," "he does it," "he doesn't," were the cries as they were carried down the river. The strongest pushed fairly straight across, but those in the worst condition seemed borne helplessly along till camel and men and all disappeared out of our sight,-and we had already given them up as lost, when we saw them emerging quite a mile down upon the bank. Then we ourselves and the luggage were put across, the mares swimming with us, though they got across much quicker than we did. The raft was hardly eight feet square, a rough framework of tamarisk poles lashed together on twenty goat skins. Our luggage went first, with Hajji Mohammed perched on the top of it, booted and cloaked, and loaded with gun and cartridge bag, sublimely indifferent, though an accident would have sent him like lead to the bottom. We ourselves were more prudent, and divested ourselves of every superfluous garment before taking our seats, which we did in the company of our dogs and bird, and of Ghafil's wife, who nearly upset us at starting by jumping in from the sh.o.r.e upon us. Our feet were in the water all the way, and our hearts in our mouths, but by the mercy of Providence, we finally reached land amid a chorus of such "betting on the event" as had accompanied the camels.

The last creature of our party was the little hamra mare, which Sirdal's servant had been holding, and which, slipping her halter, came bravely across alone.

Just across the river lives Kerim Khan, Sirdal's enemy, a Kurdish chief in government pay. To him we had letters, and nothing more remained but to go to his camp, and ask his help to forward us to Dizful.

Our former enemies now came round us like a swarm of gnats, begging and praying us to let them be of some use. They wanted to tack themselves on to our party, and so go to Dizful in safety, under cover of our companions.h.i.+p; for it appears that they dare not go further than this without protection. The Persian authorities here are apt to imprison any of the Beni Laam who enter their district, and these people therefore seldom venture beyond the Kerkha, or just this side of it. Even so, they are sometimes caught: we saw a Beni Laam last night who had just arrived at the Seguand camp on his way home after three or four months'

imprisonment at Dizful, besides having to pay a fine of one hundred and fifty krans. He was accused, no doubt justly, of sheep stealing, and he told us that several others of Mizban's people are at this moment in jail at Dizful.

The elder Ghafil finding that nothing could be got from us by persuasion, tried a little of his old bl.u.s.tering and threats, but several of Kerim Khan's people were standing by, and he was powerless here, so we had the pleasure of giving him a piece of our mind before he retired. His younger namesake, the man in green, could not contain his rage at our escape, and openly expressed his regret that we had not been killed in the wilderness as had been intended. After this little scene we saw no more of either of them, for though we afterwards heard of them in Kerim Khan's camp, they never dared come back into our presence.

There now came forward to welcome us a funny little boy with half-shut eyes, riding a good-looking chestnut mare. He dismounted, introduced himself as the Khan's son, and invited us to his father's tents. These he said lay close by, but we were not yet at the end of this day's difficulties. A network of irrigation, and a deep muddy ca.n.a.l had to be pa.s.sed, and the camels which had so successfully escaped the dangers of the river, were again nearly peris.h.i.+ng, and more ign.o.bly, in the mud.

The Kurds on this side the river were useless to a.s.sist us, as in their ignorance of camels they only made matters worse, and but for the sudden reappearance of the one-eyed giant, who had been once our greatest enemy, I think we should have all stuck fast. But now he made amends for part of his misdeeds and ill-designs by lending a powerful hand. He and Wilfrid between them unloaded the camels, and carried the luggage over on their heads up to their waists in holding mud, and then dragged through the camels. The boy, meanwhile, had gone to fetch help from his father; and we were hardly across, when he reappeared, still on his chestnut mare, a Kehileh Harkan, he told us, from the Beni Laam, for all the tribes here get their horses from the Arabs. And then we saw a cavalcade approaching, and in the midst a portly figure on an old grey mare, whom the boy introduced to us as the Khan.

Kerim Khan is, after Huseyn Koli Khan of the Bactiari, the most powerful chief of Luristan. His tribe occupies most of the district formerly known as Susiana, and from his camp on the Kerkha the ruins of Susa, now merely mounds, were visible. The land east of the river is very fertile, and being moreover well irrigated, is mostly under cultivation. Though living in tents, these Lurs can hardly be called nomadic, for their camps are permanent ones, at least for many months together. The one where we now found ourselves was in appearance quite as much a village as it was a camp, the tents being pitched close together in rows, and from their pent house shape looking exceedingly like houses. In the centre of the camp is a large open s.p.a.ce, within which the sheep and cattle of this section of the tribe are driven at night. These, however, are not numerous, for Kerim Khan's people are cultivators of the soil, rather than shepherds.

We noticed many good-looking horses about, procured, they told us, mostly from the Beni Laam.

The tent in which we were lodged was a most elaborate construction. Its roof was of the same material as that used by the Arabs, goat's hair cloth, but the side walls were of carpet stuff, with intervals of open gra.s.s matting, through which the air circulated pleasantly. It had, besides, a regular door, while inside were some handsome Persian carpets spread near a lighted fire, which we soon made use of to dry our clothes, for we were wet through, with the rivers and ca.n.a.ls we had crossed. The Lurs themselves differ even more from the Arabs, than their habitations from Bedouin tents. They have none of the Bedouin dignity of manner, and their dress is a mean one, a square coat of felt, and a little felt skull-cap, from under which their black hair curls up in a single greasy wave. Their voices, too, to one coming from among the Arabs, sounded exceedingly absurd, as they have a sort of sing-song intonation, and are pitched so high as to be almost in falsetto. This with the drawl, which we had noticed before in Ali Koli Khan, made us at first inclined to laugh. Kerim Khan keeps his people in excellent order, and no crowding round us or importunate questioning was permitted. The great man himself, though far from dignified in appearance, was well-mannered, and when he came, after having first sent us breakfast, to see us in our new tent, conversed politely, first a few words of Arabic, and afterwards in Kurdish, which Hajji Mohammed interpreted. We told him of our adventures, and of our intended visit to the Bactiari chieftain, with whom he was well acquainted, and of our journey from Hal with Ali Koli Khan, his son. I am not sure that he altogether believed us, when Hajji Mohammed added, that we were persons of distinction travelling for amus.e.m.e.nt. In Persia, it is the custom to judge strangers entirely by the appearance they make, and we, travelling in our poor Arab clothes, and accompanied by a single servant, gained less credit in his eyes than we should have found with Arabs, who care nothing for externals. He promised, however, to send us on with two hors.e.m.e.n on the following day to Dizful, and thence, if we would, to the Bactiari. In a private conference, however, later with the cava.s.s, he imposed his conditions.

We were to pay him ten tomams (four pounds sterling), as "tea-money," an exorbitant demand, which we were nevertheless obliged to accede to.

Hospitality here is never given gratis, nor has anyone much shame of begging, for even our little friend and first acquaintance here, the boy on the chestnut mare, though his father is evidently a very rich man, spares no occasion of asking money, "for his bride," he says. Gold is what he likes best.

_April_ 3.-The Khan and his son rode with us for half a mile this morning, to see us started on our way to Dizful. He has given us two hors.e.m.e.n as he promised, so at least we have something for our money, and they seem respectable people. We had hardly ten miles to go, and the road, for there was a road, was in tolerable order, and the men helped us drive our camels according to such lights in camel driving as they possessed. At first, we made a circuit, so as to cross the ca.n.a.l at a place where there was an old stone bridge, and in so doing we pa.s.sed not two miles from Shush, the ancient Susa. Wilfrid would have liked to visit the mound, but I was impatient to get on, and in fact there is nothing above-ground by all accounts to see. Then we travelled through a beautiful plain, bounded by the splendid line of the Bactiari mountains, still covered almost to their base with snow, a refres.h.i.+ng sight, for the sun was now very hot. At their foot, we could make out the town of Dizful, indistinctly at first, and then clearly, while all around us lay well-cultivated fields of waving corn just turning yellow. Here and there grew shady canora trees, and there were many rills of water. Now and then, too, a village shaped like a fortress, with a surrounding wall of sun-dried bricks, on the roofs of which storks had built their nests, and were clattering with their bills. In the fields, we heard francolins calling and quails; and the roadside was gay with flowers, red, blue, and yellow. Several times we stopped in the shade of a tree, and let the horses and camels graze on the crops, for so our hors.e.m.e.n insisted we should do, and there was no hurry. Travellers here are probably too scarce for grazing rules to be enforced against them. Nor did the peasants we met seem to mind. We were in Persia at last, and the country seemed very delightful.

At eleven o'clock, we came to a large village by the side of a broad shallow stream of transparent water, flowing over a bed of pebbles, and overhung by shady trees. A group of women were was.h.i.+ng their clothes, and the road was full of country people on foot and donkey-back, crossing the ford. A pretty picture, such as we had hardly seen since we left Syria. This, and a second river which we pa.s.sed presently, are called the Bellaru, and cover with their various branches nearly a mile of country. The water in them was cold enough to make a pleasant coolness in the air, coming like the Kerkha water from the snows. Then at two o'clock, we found ourselves close to Dizful, set picturesquely on the great river Diz, which is spanned by a fine old bridge of squared masonry, the work of ancient times. The town itself occupies some high ground beyond the river, that is to say on its left bank, but on this side, there is not a single house. The bridge is the main feature. It has twenty-one arches, some pointed, some round, with b.u.t.tresses to break the stream. It is very much out of repair, there being one hole in it big enough for a camel to fall through. It would seem to belong in part to the age of the Persian monarchy, in part to that of the Caliphs, but I have not sufficient knowledge of architecture to feel sure about this.

In any case, here we are at Dizful, and once more under a settled government, with police and soldiers, and all the other blessings of civilisation at our call. We may be thankful that it is so.

CHAPTER IV.

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-house decree, Where Alph the sacred river ran, Through caverns measureless by man, Down to a sunless sea."

COLERIDGE.

Pleasures of town life-The Khani's court-Bactiari shepherds-Shustar-Its palace, its river, and its garden-A telegraph clerk.

_April_ 4.-Dizful, though still alive with a population of 30,000 persons, and a certain amount of traffic, for it is the corn market of the tribes westwards on the Ottoman frontier, and eastwards on the Bactiari, now possesses but the shadow of its past prosperity, if we may judge from the neglected condition of its magnificent bridge and the ruined walls which remain to mark its former circ.u.mference. Between these and the limit within which the present inhabited town has shrunk, lies a widish strip of unoccupied land. Here we have our camp in a hollow out of sight from the road, and here we had hoped to remain unnoticed and undisturbed. But alas, it was Friday, and the whole population turned out at daybreak, and there was no chance of escaping discovery. All the inhabitants of Dizful, men, women, and children, have been idling about, holiday-making in their best clothes all day long, with apparently nothing to do but stare at us. I am sure they consider the arrival of a party of strangers as a G.o.d-send, for from early dawn until an hour ago, at the _asr_ when the governor sent three soldiers to disperse them, they have literally swarmed round our tent like their own flies. Not content, as Arabs are, with looking on from a reasonable distance, these Persians persist in trying to thrust their way inside the tent, and not succeeding, they sit down in rows so close to it that we cannot stir without pus.h.i.+ng somebody away. Besides, they cannot look with their eyes; they must touch everything with their fingers, and they must laugh and talk, and have answers to all their foolish questions.

They mean no harm, but it is very tiresome, and has hindered us not a little in our repairs and preparations. The camel saddles and bags wanted mending, the camels had to be doctored for mange, with an ointment which had first to be mixed, the horses to be shod, the stores looked through, purchases to be made of rope and provisions, and all this with several hundred persons at one's elbow; each ready with advice and interference.

Our appearance, I have no doubt, is a great temptation to them, for there can be few things more unutterably dull than one of their festivities.

Pigeon-flying is here as much the fas.h.i.+on as it is at Aleppo, and there is the same element of gambling in the performance. The birds are let loose from their separate dovecots, and allure each other home; such at least is the explanation given us of the excitement shown in watching them. Whoever gets most birds from his neighbour wins. Then there are dervishes and seyyids in green clothes who go about selling sugar-plums and collecting alms; and a few of the richest have horses on which they gallop about. We, however, in our Arab dresses, are a perplexity and an endless source of inquiry to all; and our dogs, and our falcon, and our camels, excite almost as much interest as they might in Hyde Park or the Champs Elysees. We should have done far better to stay the other side of the river, where there is an honest bit of desert much more in keeping with our establishment, and where n.o.body comes. Rasham, too, to add to our troubles, got loose and flew wildly about over the crowd, and could not be caught till Wilfrid climbed to the top of a tower there was in the city wall, and lured him down. We were almost at our wits' end with the mob when the governor's guard arrived, and restored order. I profit by the quiet thus secured, and by the last hour of daylight, to write my journal.

Besides the vulgar populace, several polite and well-to-do inhabitants have called on us; the most agreeable of them, a party of four, came in the morning, and afterwards spent the day sitting under the shade of the ruined wall close by, where Wilfrid returned their visit. In the afternoon they came again. They were Ardes.h.i.+r Khan, a very dignified and very fat man; Pasha Khan, next in dignity and fat; Yusef Khan, thin and very dark; and lastly, Aga Shukra Allah, red-haired and speaking a little Arabic, and thus able to converse with us and interpret for his friends.

The wife of one of these gentlemen sent to propose to come and see me, and on my accepting, arrived immediately with a score of attendants. We sat together on my carpet, which I ordered to be spread near the tent; but with the best will in the world, our conversation was but halting; Hajji Mohammed is not a fluent dragoman, and he grows deafer every day.

A seyyid also called on us and brought his little girl, named Khatun, a funny little thing of five, to whom I gave a silver kran; then some rather ill-mannered persons calling themselves Sabaeans. {179}