My husband, Imam Sherif and I had each a seat on a separate loaded camel,
with our _rezais_ or _lahafs_--thick cotton quilts--on the baggage; six
of the servants rode in pairs while one walked, all taking turns. We went
about eight miles westward the first day and considered it a wonderfully
good journey. We stopped at the edge of the plain, about half a mile from
the sea at Ras Risout, where some very dirty water was to be obtained
under a rock.
We passed some ruins with columns four miles west of Al Hafa at Aukad.
The approach to the mountains is up narrow gulleys full of
frankincense-trees.
We had a stormy and quarrelsome start next day, after a delay caused by
my husband's camel sitting down constantly and unexpectedly, and a
stoppage because two possible enemies being descried it was deemed
needful to wait till all the camels came up that we might keep together.
When they arrived we waited so long that we got up, told them that we did
not want to be kept all day on the road, and began to mount our camels,
saying we would return to the wali at Al Hafa. In the end they began
quarrelling with each other and made peace with us, and next we set off
to a place farther north than they had before intended, where there was
good water in a small amphitheatre of mountains. We went up a lovely
gorge with ferns, trees, and a running stream, as different as possible
to the aridity of the Hadhramout.
January 1, 1895, began with a wild-goose chase after some ruins
consisting of a circular wall of loose stones about a foot in height,
very likely only a sheep pen.
The camels were much quieter and the Bedouin very friendly. We only
travelled an hour and a half, having gone round some spurs and found
ourselves in a round valley, back to back with that we had left, and
about half a mile distant from our last camp. It was surrounded by some
very high and some lower hills, and we were just under a beetling cliff
with good water in a stream among bulrushes, reeds, and tropical
vegetation.
There was a Bedou family close by with goats; they sold us milk at an
exorbitant price and asked so much for a kid that we stuck to our tinned
meat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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