The Land of Midian (Revisited) — Volume 1Burton, Richard Francis, Sir
Science
The Land of Midian (Revisited) — Volume 1
Burton, Richard Francis, Sir
Burton, Richard Francis, Sir, 1821-1890; Hejaz (Saudi Arabia) -- Description and travel
Amongst our recreant Shaykhs I must not include Furayj bin Rafí'a
el-Huwaytí, a man of whom any tribe might be proud, and a living
proof that the Bedawi may still be a true gentleman. A short
figure, meagre of course, as becomes the denizen of the Desert,
but "hard as nails," he has straight comely features, a clean
dark skin, and a comparatively full beard, already, like his
hair, waxing white, although he cannot be forty-five. A bullet in
the back, and both hands distorted by sabre-cuts, attempts at
assassination due to his own kin, do not prevent his using sword,
gun, and pistol. He is the 'Agíd of the tribe, the African
"Captain of War;" as opposed to the civil authority, the Shayhk,
and to the judicial, the Kázi. At first it is somewhat startling
to hear him prescribe a slit weasand as a cure for lying; yet he
seems to be known, loved, and respected by all around him,
including his hereditary foes, the Ma'ázah. He is the only Bedawi
in camp who prays. Naturally he is a genealogist, rich in local
lore. He counteracts all the intrigues by which that rat-faced
little rascal, Shaykh Hasan el-'Ukbi, tries to breed mischief
between friends. He is a walking map; it would be easy to draw up
a rude plan of the country from his information. He does not know
hours and miles, but he can tell to a nicety the comparative
length of a march; and, when ignorant, he has the courage to say
M'adri, "don't know." He never asked me for anything, nor told a
lie, nor even hid a water-hole. Willing and ready to undertake
the longest march, the hardest work, his word is Házir--"I'm
here"--and he will even walk to mount a tired man. Seated upon
his loud-voiced little Hijn,[EN#89] remarkable because it is of
the noble Bishári strain, bred between the Nile and the Red Sea,
he is ever the guide in chief. At last it ends with Nádi Shaykh
Furayj!--"Call Shaykh Furayj"--when anything is to be done, to be
explained, to be discovered. I would willingly have recommended
him for the chieftainship of his tribe, but he is not wealthy; he
wisely prefers to see the dignity in the hands of his cousin
'Alayán, who, by-the-by, is helpless without him. He remained
with us to the end: he seemed to take a pride in accompanying the
expedition by sea to El-Haurá, and by land to the Wady Hamz, far
beyond the limits of his tribe. When derided for mounting a pair
of Government "bluchers," tied over bare feet, with bits of
glaring tassel-string from his camel-saddle, he quoted the
proverb, "Whoso liveth with a people forty days becomes of them."
We parted after the most friendly adieu, or rather au revoir, and
he was delighted with some small gifts of useful weapons:--I
wonder whether Shaykh Furayj will prove "milk," to use Sir Walter
Scott's phrase, "which can stand more than one skimming."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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