Behind the Veil in Persia and Turkish Arabia: An Account of an Englishwoman's Eight Years' Residence Amongst the Women of the EastHume-Griffith, M. E.
Philosophy
Behind the Veil in Persia and Turkish Arabia: An Account of an Englishwoman's Eight Years' Residence Amongst the Women of the East
Hume-Griffith, M. E.
Arabian Peninsula -- Social life and customs; Iran -- Social life and customs
Another time we had just crossed a river at the end of a long day's
march, and were enjoying a well-earned rest and cup of tea, when our
escort came up in great distress of mind to say that he had just heard
that a band of 500 armed men had that morning crossed the river with
the avowed intention of lying in wait for the Feringhi caravan and
attacking it. We were getting used to alarms of this kind, and at first
only laughed at their anxious faces; but they were so persistent in
their entreaties that we should not remain on that side of the river,
that we began to think that perhaps, after all, this time they might
have foundation for their fears. So we made a compromise to the effect
that, if they wished, we would pack up and move on to some village,
although we were very tired. So with this they had to be content, and
it was arranged that at midnight we were to start. However, just before
turning in for a short rest, the guard again made their appearance,
this time to say they had considered that it would not be at all
safe to travel by night, and that we had better wait till daylight,
adding in the usual way: "But do not be afraid; we will watch all
night long." So we all retired very thankfully to rest. It was a very
hot night, and being unable to sleep I went outside the tent door
for a little air, and found our gallant guard all fast asleep and
snoring. In the morning they assured us that they had never closed
their eyes all night, but had sat up watching for robbers!!
We had experienced once in Persia the pleasant sensation of being
lost when alone in the desert. In the Turkish-Arabian desert we,
in company with the whole caravan, were once lost, and spent many
weary hours wandering about seeking for our right road in vain. It
was a day or two after leaving Diabekir; our escort, reduced to one
soldier as the road was considered fairly safe, was quite sure he
knew the way. Our muleteer and servants had never travelled that
road before, so we were completely in the hands of one man; but as
he seemed quite sure, we did not trouble about it, knowing that these
men are always on the road acting as escort. But we soon found that we
were trusting to a broken reed, so far as his knowledge as a guide was
concerned. We started one day on what we supposed to be a short stage,
but to our surprise it seemed to lengthen out into a longer one than
usual, till we began to despair of ever reaching the end. At last,
when sunset was a thing of the past, we began to suspect that our
guide was not too sure of his where-abouts; and this suspicion soon
changed to certainty when we suddenly found ourselves on the top of a
steep bank, down which it was impossible for the animals to climb. Our
clever guide then confessed that he did not know where we were.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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