We paid a visit to the governor of Hami, who received us on the roof of
his house, where many were assembled, and scarcely had he greeted us when
they all fell to praying, the mollah standing in front to lead, and all
the others standing in a row behind. After that they gave us coffee with
no sugar, followed by tea with far too much, and they pressed us to stay
with them and partake of their evening meal, but we declined politely and
retired to our camp.
On March 11 we started for Dis without any rows or brawls whatever. Dis
is fifteen miles off. We never went down to the shore at all that day,
but travelled over a barren, undulating country which runs out to sea and
forms Ras Bagashwa. We went for half a mile close above the sea on a
cliff 20 or 30 feet high, with many shells, some in an ordinary state,
some half petrified, and some wholly so, but none embedded in the stone.
After travelling three hours and a half we passed over and amongst a
range of low hills, a volcanic jumble with earths of all colours, seams
of gypsum stuck up edgeways, and many other things.
I used once to sigh and groan over not having brought a geologist with
us, but I was wiser by that time. It was enough to think of his specimens
and their transport, to say nothing of the responsibility for his safety.
Still my husband and I often wished we knew more of geology than we did.
When the geologist does visit these parts he must make a special bargain
with his camel-men, not based on his apparent, present, visible baggage,
but upon what it may expand to. He might arrange to pay at the end
according to the results of his journey. On one of the dreadful days with
the Jabberi, the man whose camel carried the botanical boxes positively
refused to load up, on account of having seen stones with lichen put in;
and but for the fact of his being last and that all the other camels had
started, we might have had to throw the things away.
There was nothing to see at Dis but a sudden oasis of fertility caused by
a _ghail_, but the report of an inscription led my husband a long
wild-goose chase. The district is very populous, and from the old forts
near it evidently has been and is a very prosperous place.
We had a great many patients, and were nearly driven wild with starers.
To avoid the crowd we pitched our tent tight up against a field of
sugar-canes, but so anxious were the populace to see me, that the whole
field was trodden down and no one seemed to mind. There were perpetual
shouts for the 'woman' to come out. On this part of the journey, as well
as in the Hadhramout, I was always simply spoken of as the _Horma_ (plur.
_Harem_) and never as _Bibi_ (lady).
There were some very light-skinned Arabs at Dis, with long dark hair,
which they dress with grease, wearing round their neck a cocoanut
containing a supply of this toilet-requisite for the purpose. Most of
them affect red plaid cotton turbans and waist-cloths, a decided relief
to the eye from the perpetual indigo.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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