The wali kept all his prisoners in the courtyard. When we were there he
had twelve, all manacled, and reposing on grass mats at night. These were
wicked Bedouin from the mountains, prisoners taken in a recent war he had
had with the Mahri tribe, the _casus belli_ being a find of ambergris
which the Mahri had appropriated, though it had been washed up on the
Dhofar coast. One prisoner, a murderer, whose imprisonment was for two
years, was chained to a log of wood, and he laid his mat bed in a large
stone sarcophagus, brought from the neighbouring ruins of the ancient
capital of the frankincense country, and really intended for a trough.
Another, convicted of stealing his master's sword and selling it to the
captain of a dhow, had his feet attached to an iron bar, which made his
locomotion exceedingly painful. A mollah prisoner was, owing to the
sanctity of his calling, unfettered, and he led the evening prayers, and
on most nights--for want of something better to do, I suppose--these
prisoners of Wali Suleiman prayed and sang into the small hours of the
morning. Day by day we watched these unfortunate men from the roof, and
thought we had never seen so unholy a set of men, according to what we
heard; they did not look so. Some were morose, and chewed the cud of
their discontent in corners; the younger and better-looking ones were
gallant, and flirted with the slave girls, helping them to draw up
buckets from the well in the centre of the courtyard; the active-minded
cut wood for the household, and walked about doing odd jobs, holding up
the iron bar which separated their feet with a rope as they shuffled
along, or played with the wali's little boy, five years of age, who
rambled about among them.
Goats, kids, cocks, and hens, also occupied this courtyard, and the big,
white she-ass, the only representative of the equine race as far as we
could see in Dhofar, on which Wali Suleiman makes his state journeys to
the various villages in his dominions along the coast, and which he
kindly lent to me once when we went to visit the ruins.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account