Sun, Sand and Somals: Leaves from the note-book of a District Commissioner in British SomalilandRayne, Henry A.
History
Sun, Sand and Somals: Leaves from the note-book of a District Commissioner in British Somaliland
Rayne, Henry A.
British Somaliland
Near this camp are many mounds like those at the wells of Bokh.
There also is a circular hut, well built, the first of its kind
I have seen in the interior of Somaliland. Once a Sheikh of real
repute halted here for a few days and this hut was built for his
comfort. I can call up the scene of the nomad Somals collecting from
all sides to build the wretched structure. It is nevertheless, to
me, a symbol of the fanatical religious fire that burns within their
bosoms. That and nothing else, excepting perhaps an earthquake,
could have moved them voluntarily to do what is called a job of
work. They were doubtless fired by the same spirit that inspires
us to raise up loftier, nobler buildings for the glory of God and
our religion. That only a hut resulted is typical of the great
difference between the willingness of their spirit and the strength
of their flesh.
The name of this place is Yebil-Kên, "the place with no grazing."
But there are more trees here; the tufts of grass are more numerous
and you need not look far for one; all the same it is a dreary spot.
Wonderful are the people who find a living for themselves and their
cattle.
* * * * *
Last night it rained, and I had my bed carried into the tent. We
have climbed high, so the night was not hot; for once--the first
time in months--I felt pleasantly cool. This morning the sky was
cloudy, and we did not march until daybreak. Climbing, by an
easily graded track over another pass, which we entered at the end
of the horse-shoe plain between two steep hills, and following a
water-course across rough stony ground, we came into camp, where
cook had coffee, hot bacon and eggs, waiting on the table.
Until now nearly all the people we have met have been travelling
to the coast with skins, ghee, and other commodities to sell. This
morning the country passed through is being grazed by the Abrian
section of the Gadabursi. Several kafilas of families on the move
have passed the camp, and I was successful in obtaining permission
from the owner of one to take a photograph. The women hid their
faces when I pointed the camera, but I managed to get some good
shots.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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