Volume Ii Part 7 (1/2)

We were now left alone with Dakher and his crew, who sat round us while with infinite labour we loaded our camels. Poor old Hajji Mohammed in his rusty uniform, with his sword dangling between his legs, was anything but an efficient camel-man, and in spite of the best will in the world things proceeded slowly. It was as much as we could get out of Dakher that he should tell one of his sulky fellows to lend an occasional hand to the work, and keep the rest from getting in our way. The help was given grudgingly, and in obedience rather to Wilfrid's command, for he was now obliged to talk loud, than of good-will. Dakher, however, kept up a semblance of politeness, being still our host, a position sacred even in the eyes of the most abandoned, and when his brother Ghafil appeared, announcing himself as our escort, we were suffered to depart.

Once on our horses, and with the camels driven in front of us, we felt more at ease; yet all were not a little anxious. We should, I think, have turned back now but for the recollection of Beneyeh and the river Tibb behind us, evils we knew of while the unknown evils before us seemed preferable. For a while, too, we flattered ourselves with the idea that Ghafil was to be our only company, and for a mile or two the illusion lasted, and we were rea.s.sured. There is something, besides, in a very bright morning's march through a beautiful country, for we were close to the hills, which prevents one feeling anxious, and whatever its inhabitants may be, this frontier-land of Persia looks like a Garden of Eden, with its gra.s.s and flowers knee deep in every hollow.

Ghafil is another and a worse edition of Dakher, having, over and above his brother's vices of countenance, a most abominable squint. His face looks always like a thunder-cloud, and the smiles on it, (for he smiles sometimes, showing a wonderful set of white teeth from ear to ear) are like the smiles of a wild beast. He has, too, a sort of cat's manner, soft and cowardly, but very offensive. At starting, and as long as he was alone with us, he seemed amiable enough, but at the end of about an hour we came up with the rest of the party in whose company we were to travel, and then his demeanour changed. These were not hors.e.m.e.n, or an escort at all, but a collection of the most extraordinary vagabonds we have ever seen. There were about forty of them, with about twice as many beasts, camels, and oxen, which they were driving before them loaded with empty sacks. Amongst them were two women on foot, and there was a single horseman heading the procession, mounted on a little white mare. We asked them where they were going, and they answered, ”To Dizful, to buy corn,” and then in return plied us with a hundred questions. Many of these were not a little impertinent, but by parrying some, and affecting not to understand the rest, we managed to hold our own, even returning some of their small wit with interest on themselves. Hajji Mohammed, however, poor man, was soon singled out as a special b.u.t.t for their mirth. His old uniform coat they found supremely absurd, and he was as mercilessly chaffed about his tailor as if he had been amongst a party of roughs on the Epsom Downs, while he had not the sense always to keep his temper. There was, besides, something more than mere high spirits in their wit. He was a Suni, and they were s.h.i.+as, and religious bitterness made them bitter. From words at last they seemed rapidly coming to blows, when Wilfrid interfered, making his horse curvet amongst them, and dispersing them for a while. But they soon returned, and it was all we could do to prevent the poor cava.s.s from being maltreated. One called on him to dismount and give him a ride, another to let him have a shot with his gun, and a third to fill him a pipe of tobacco, to none of which demands the unfortunate Hajji knew how to give the proper refusal. ”Ya Hajji,” ”Ya Hajji,” was the perpetual cry all the morning long; ”Where is your pipe? where is your tobacco? Quick, I am thirsting for a smoke.”

Ghafil in the meanwhile would do nothing or could do nothing in the way of control, sitting on his camel gloomily in silence, or talking in an undertone with a great one-eyed rascal, more villainously hideous than himself. The position was often almost unbearable, and only the doctrine of patience which we had learned in Arabia, and a constant show of good humour to the crowd, made it tolerable. In the course of the afternoon, however, we managed to get upon some sort of friendly terms with two or three of the rabble, so that by the evening, when we stopped, we had established a little party among them in our favour. This, I believe, was the means of preventing a worse disaster, for it is nearly certain that Ghafil and the more serious of the party meant us deliberate mischief.

About an hour before sunset we came to a broad river, broader and deeper than the Tibb, and here Ghafil decreed a halt. If we had been a strong enough party to s.h.i.+ft for ourselves, and if we could have crossed the river alone, we should now have gone on and left our persecutors behind; but in our helpless state this was impossible, and we had no choice but to dismount. It was an anxious moment, but I think we did what was wisest in showing no sign of distrust; and we had no sooner stopped than we gave one a horse to hold, and another a gun, while we called on others to help us unload the camels, and get out coffee and provisions for a general feast. This seemed to most of them too good an offer to be declined, and we had already distributed a sack of flour and a sack of rice amongst them, which the two women had promised to bake into loaves for the whole party, when Ghafil and the one-eyed man, who had been down to look for a ford, arrived upon the scene. They were both very angry when they saw the turn things had taken, and were at first for forbidding the people to eat with us, alleging that we were kaffirs (infidels), so at least the people informed us later, but this was more than they could insist on. They would not, however, themselves eat with us or taste our coffee, and remained apart with those of the party which had not made friends with us. The women were on our side, and the better sort of the young men. Still it was a terribly anxious evening, for even our friends were as capricious as the winds, and seemed always on the point of picking an open quarrel. Later, they all went away and left us to our own devices, sitting round a great bonfire of brushwood they had built up, ”to scare away lions,” they said. We managed to rig up our tent, and make a barricade of the camel-bags in such a way that we could not be surprised and taken at a disadvantage. I did not shut my eyes all night, but lay watching the bonfire, win my hand on my gun. Hajji Mohammed once in the darkness crept out and got near enough to overhear something of their talk, and he a.s.sures us that there was a regular debate as to whether and when and how we should be murdered, in which the princ.i.p.al advocate of extreme measures was the one-eyed man, a great powerful ruffian who carried a sort of club, which he told us he used to frighten the lions, beating it on the ground. The noise, he declared, sounded like a gun and drove them away. With this tale of horror Hajji Mohammed returned to comfort us; nor was it wholly a delusion, for in the middle of the night, Wilfrid being asleep, and Hajji Mohammed, whose watch it was, having fallen into a doze, I distinctly saw Ghafil, who had previously come under pretext of lions or robbers to reconnoitre, prowl stealthily round, and seeing us all as he thought asleep, lift up the flap of the tent and creep under on Wilfrid's side. I had remained motionless, and from where I lay I could see his figure plainly against the sky. As he stooped I called out in a loud voice, ”Who goes there?”

and at the sound he started back, and slunk away. This woke Hajji Mohammed, and n.o.body slept again, but I could see Ghafil prowling like an hyaena round us the best part of the night. {152}

Hajji Mohammed has behaved very well, though he owns himself much frightened. So am I, only I conceal my alarm better than he does.

Indeed I am sure that putting on a bold face is our only chance of safety, for nothing but cowardice now prevents Ghafil and his set from attacking us. We are well armed, and he knows he could not do it with impunity. As long as we are on horseback, I believe we run no great risk, but the night is a disagreeable time. If we had only open desert in front of us we could set them all at defiance.

_March_ 31.-The morning broke tempestuously, and we were afraid the river might have risen in the night, a complication which would have probably decided our fate; but though the clouds lay black and heavy on the hills there was no flood. After trying several places, all of which proved too deep, our akid, the man on the white mare, found a ford, if such it can be called, for the water was over his mare's back, and all the party followed him. The robbers, for so I now call them, pa.s.sed easily enough, for their camels were unloaded, but ours barely managed it. The current was very strong, and though Hatheran and the strongest of them came on boldly, two of them stopped in the middle and seemed on the point of turning down and being swept away, when Wilfrid rode back below them, into the deep water, and drove them on. It was nervous work to watch them, seeing nothing of rider and horse but their heads, but Job swam very well, and the camels were saved and all got safely over. This incident proved a fortunate one, for it impressed the better sort of the robbers with an idea of our determination, and there was again a party in our favour. It was fortunate that it was so, for we were no sooner across than Ghafil and the one-eyed monster, Saadun, came forward with a more menacing manner than they had yet dared to show, and said we should proceed no further. It was plain enough what they meant, but we affected not to understand them, and declaring in a cheerful tone that it was a charming spot to stay in, with plenty of gra.s.s and water for the beasts, at once consented to a halt. Wilfrid begged Ghafil to sit down and smoke a pipe with him, and when the man sulkily demurred, insisted on it.

”Now, Ghafil,” he said, ”here you are my guest, as we have been yours; what can I do for you to make you happy?” ”Wallah, ya Beg,” interposed Saadun, ”you have done nothing for him or any of us, and now you must.”

”Must? Indeed, I shall be too delighted. Tell me only in what I can a.s.sist you-what it is that Ghafil wants.” Ghafil then began a long history about his dignity as Sheykh of the expedition, and the disgrace it was to him to have received no cloak of honour from the Beg, and the insult that he had thus received from us-at all which Wilfrid expressed the greatest possible pain and surprise. {154} ”There has been some mistake here,” he said; ”I would not for the world that anyone should be treated with less respect than was his due by me. The disgrace would be mine;” and he made a show of taking off his own cloak to give him; still Ghafil seemed dissatisfied. ”No, no, it is not that,” said Saadun, in a stage whisper, ”what the Sheykh wants is money-money, do you see?-money for all of us.” ”And is it possible,” exclaimed Wilfrid, ”that you have all remained unpaid?-that Beneyeh gave you nothing of what he received from me?-that you have been working for me, 'balash,' for nothing? This is indeed a disgrace. Come, Saadun, let us talk this matter over and repair the mistake.” He then took the one-eyed man by the arm and led him aside for a private conference, while Ghafil sat on gloomily with me.

Wilfrid's first care, when he got the Kurd alone, was to square him with a present of ten krans (francs) for his own account, and a promise of twenty more when we got to the Kerkha, judging rightly that this fellow was in fact our most dangerous enemy. Then he intrusted him with negotiating the rest of the blackmail with Ghafil. We were prepared now for almost any demand, for we were completely in their power, and had a sum of nearly 100 with us, besides property to the value of perhaps as much more. We were consequently no little relieved when Saadun returned with a demand of one hundred krans, and a silk abba, in return for Ghafil's protection. This, after much affected reluctance to part with so enormous a sum, and a declaration at one moment that rather than pay we would stay where we were for a month, we at last produced-giving the robber the very silk abba which had been one of Ibn Ras.h.i.+d's presents to us in Nejd-a white silk one, embroidered with gold, but the only one we had; which being done we were suffered to proceed. The truth of the matter probably is that Ghafil dared not drive us to extremities, partly from physical fear, for we soon had proof sufficient of his cowardice, and partly because many of his men would not have joined him in a deed of violence. Bloodshed is a thing no Arab willingly consents to, however low his morality, especially where a guest, or one who has been a guest, is in question; and though the mongrel Kurds and Persians, who made up more than half the band, would have abetted him, the rest would not. One of the women, too, was Ghafil's wife, and the women were openly friends with us. Another consideration may have been that we were entering now upon an enemy's country, for the Dueri is the limit of Beni Laam authority, and our men were too miserable cowards not to count upon us for something in case of attack. Part of our agreement with Ghafil was that we were to fight for him in case of need against the Persians, a promise we readily gave. The atmosphere now was somewhat cleared, and we started afresh under rather better conditions. The teasing of Hajji Mohammed continued, but we ourselves were treated with respect, and the one-eyed Kurd even occasionally lent a hand in driving the camels, in company with a youth clothed in green, who had hitherto been one of our worst persecutors.

The whole party proceeded cautiously, avowing without the slightest shame their immense fear of the Ajjem (the Persians), whom they expected to meet at every turn of the road. Beyond the Dueri we found ourselves in a beaten track, which winds up and down over an undulating bit of desert, the last ripple of the Hamrin hills which are now behind us. The akid usually rode on in front to spy out possible enemies, and all had orders to keep together. Ours, however, was such a noisy party, that one would have thought its pa.s.sage could have been heard for miles round. The bullocks were getting tired and required a great deal of driving, and the shouting and screaming reminded one of an Irish fair. So we went on without a halt till three o'clock, when a halt was ordered in a hollow, where we were out of sight of enemies, and where there was a quant.i.ty of wild celery, and another edible plant called ”hakallah,” which we found good, for we had eaten nothing all day. Not far off were some sand mounds, with tufts of what looked very like ithel, but we dared not leave our camels to inspect them. The halt was only for half-an-hour; then with shouts of ”Yalla yalla, erkob, erkob,” the mob went on.

We stopped again suddenly about an hour before sunset, and this time in alarm. The akid, who had ridden to the top of a low hill, was seen waving, as he came back, his abba, and instantly the cry arose, ”El Ajjem, el Ajjem.” In an instant everybody was huddled together in a hollow place, like a covey of partridges when they see a hawk, and we were entreated, commanded to dismount. A few hurried words with the akid confirmed the terrible news of danger to the band, and all seemed at their wits' end with terror. ”How many hors.e.m.e.n?-how many?” we inquired.

”Five,” was the answer, ”but there are more behind; and then these are the _Ajjem_!” ”And if they _are_ the Ajjem, and only five of them, are you not forty of you here and able to fight?” ”No, no!” they screamed, ”you do not understand. These hors.e.m.e.n are Persians-Persians; every one of them capable of killing five of us.” I did not think men could be so craven-hearted. A few of the least cowardly now crept up to the hill-top and one by one came back to report; the number of hors.e.m.e.n seen rose rapidly from five to fifteen and eventually to fifty. When the last number was reached, the coward Ghafil, who had kept well in the middle of the mob, so as to be in the least possible danger, came to us with his softest and most cringing manner, forgetful of all his bullying, and begged us to be sure and do our best in the battle which was imminent.

”You should stand in front of the others,” he said, ”and shoot as fast as you can, and straight, so as to kill these Ajjem-dead you understand-it is better to shoot them dead. You, khatun, know how to shoot, I am sure-and you will not be afraid.” We could not help laughing at him, which shocked him dreadfully. Presently a man came rus.h.i.+ng up to say the enemy was coming, and again there was unutterable confusion. The boy in green had begged some percussion caps of Wilfrid for his gun, and had been given fifty, and this now led to a wrangle, as he refused to share his prize with the rest. Everybody was trying to borrow everybody else's gun or spear or bludgeon, for they were very rudely armed, and n.o.body would stand in front, but everybody behind. The women alone seemed to have got their heads, while Ghafil, white in the face, walked nervously up and down. We and the cava.s.s stood a little apart from the rest, holding our horses, ready to fire and mount, and Wilfrid occupied the interval of expectation with giving me instructions what to do if we got separated in the fray. I was too well mounted to be overtaken, and was to make for the Kerkha river, which we knew could not be far away to the east, and put myself under the protection of the first Persian khan I should meet there; if possible, Kerim Khan, to whom I had a letter in my pocket, and who is a vakil of the Persian Government. We hoped, however, that we might be able to keep together, and beat off the enemy. Wilfrid called out to Ghafil, ”You must tell me when to fire,” but Ghafil was too frightened to reply. Several of the men, however, called out, ”Shoot at anybody you see-everybody here is an enemy.” The camels had been made to kneel down, and the cattle had been huddled together; only a few of all the mob looked as if they really meant to fight. They were silent enough now, talking only in whispers. So we remained perhaps for half-an-hour; then somebody ran up the hill again to look, and Wilfrid, tired of waiting, proposed that we should eat our dinner, as we had had nothing all day. I got some bread and a pomegranate out of the delul bag, and we were soon at work, much to the disgust of the rest, who were shocked at our levity in such a moment. Presently there was another alarm and the people called to me to come inside their square, meaning kindly I think, but of course we would do no such thing, being really much safer where we were with our mares. Still no enemy came, and when we had finished our meal we tied our horses' halters to our arms and lay down in our cloaks; we were very tired and soon were sound asleep. Nothing more was heard of the enemy that night.

But our troubles were not to end here. We were hardly comfortably asleep, before a tremendous crash of thunder roused us and a downpour of rain. On putting our heads out of our cloaks we saw our valiant escort rigging up our servants' tent for themselves. They were terribly afraid of getting washed in the rain, and were shrieking to us to come inside too, indignant at Wilfrid's ”ma yukhalif” (”never mind”), with which he had already treated their remonstrances on other occasions. Indeed, ”ma yukhalif” had now become a sort of nickname with them, and no dishonourable one, I think, for the person concerned. We neither of us could think of joining them in the tent, but having managed to get a couple of horse-rugs from the delul bag, we covered ourselves over again and went to sleep; Sayad and s.h.i.+ekha creeping in under them to keep us company. All of a sudden the rain stopped, and before we were well aware, the mob was again on the march. It was pitch dark, and we were within an ace of being left behind, a circ.u.mstance which perhaps we should have hardly regretted. Still, now we felt that our position with the robbers was such, that we ran less danger in their company than alone; and we all hurried on together. Ghafil was polite again; and the rest, feeling, I suppose, that the journey was nearly over, and their power over us vanis.h.i.+ng, even made us offers of a.s.sistance. A long, weary night march we had, and at dawn found ourselves descending rapidly into a broad plain, knee deep in pasture. This was the valley of the Kerkha; and as it grew light we became aware of a long line of mounds, with two kubbrs or shrines in front of us, which Ghafil told us were the ruins of Eywan. At seven o'clock we saw tents within the circuit of the ancient city, and some shepherds in conical felt caps, and sheepskin dresses, the costume of the Bactiari and other tribes of Kurdish origin.

We were in Persia.

Ghafil now went forward to announce our arrival to Sirdal Khan, the chieftain at whose tents we now are. But I must leave further details for to-morrow.

[Picture: Canora]

CHAPTER III.

”Henceforth in safe a.s.surance may ye rest, Having both found a new friend you to aid, And lost an old foe that did you molest, Better new friend than an old foe is said.”

FAeRY QUEEN.

A prince in exile-Tea money-Rafts on the Kerkha-Last words with the Beni Laam-Kerim Khan-Beautiful Persia-We arrive at Dizful.

SIRDAL KHAN is a Shahzade, or member of the Royal family of Persia, many of whom are to be found living in official, and even private capacities in different parts of the kingdom. He himself had fallen into disgrace with the Court many years ago, and had been exiled from Persia proper, a misfortune which led to his taking up his residence with a section of the semi-dependent Seguand tribe of Lurs, where he became Khan or Chieftain.

Both in looks and in manner, he stands in striking contrast with the people round him, having the handsome, regular features, long nose and melancholy, almond-shaped eyes of the family of the Shah, which, I believe, is not of Persian origin, and a certain dignity of bearing very different from the rude want of manners of the Lurs. These would seem to be of Tartar origin, coa.r.s.e-featured, short-faced men, honest in their way and brave, but quite ignorant of those graces of address which even the worst Arabs are not wholly without. Sirdal, when he arrived among the Lurs, was possessed of considerable wealth, which he invested in flocks and herds, and until a short time before our visit he was living in Bedouin magnificence. But his enemies it would seem still pursued him, and not satisfied with his disgrace, molested him even in his exile.

By some means, the rights of which we did not learn, they managed to instigate against him a rival chief, one Kerim Khan, who, under Government sanction, made a successful raid upon his flocks, stripping the unfortunate prince of everything, and driving him and his tribe across the Kerkha river into the No Man's Land, which lies between Persia and Turkey, and which we had just crossed. In this position he has been obliged to maintain himself as he could, making terms with Mizban and the Beni Laam, who are his nearest neighbours westwards. The river Kerkha is considered the boundary of Persia, and as it is a large and rapid river, nearly half a mile across, he is in comparative safety from the east.

Ghafil, therefore, as a Beni Laam, was on friendly terms with him, though it was easy to see that he despised and had no kind of sympathy with him or the ruffians of his band. By Hajji Mohammed's advice, and to secure ourselves against further risks at their hands, we accordingly placed ourselves at once under the Khan's protection. Hajji Mohammed fortunately knows both Persian and Kurdish, and soon explained to Sirdal the circ.u.mstances of our position, and he, delighted to meet once more with respectable people, readily a.s.sented. He received us with great kindness, made us comfortable in his tent, which, in spite of his poverty, was still more luxurious than any found among the Arabs; having part.i.tions of matting worked in worsted with birds and beasts, carpets, and a fire, and gave us what we were much in want of, an excellent breakfast of well served rice and lamb. Then, when we had pitched our own tent just outside, he provided us with an efficient guard of Lurs, who soon sent our robber acquaintance of the last few days about their business. There is no love lost between them and the Arabs. Presently I received a visit from the Khan's wife, whom he has lately married, and his mother, a well-bred person with perfect manners, and a refined, pleasing face. She was in black, in mourning she explained for a son; she has five sons, including the Khan, whose brothers live with him. A crowd of Seguand ladies came in her company, and an Arab woman who had been nurse to one of the Khan's children, and who served me as interpreter. Ghafil's wife, too, one of the poor women who had travelled with us, came in and joined the conversation. She is loud in her complaints of Ghafil, who treats her ill. He is now very polite, and presented himself during the afternoon at our tent as if nothing had happened, with a little girl named Norah in his arms whom he told us was his niece, he having a sister here married to one of Sirdal's men. I had a carpet spread for the ladies outside our tent, for it could not have held them all, and they sat round me for an hour or more, curious and enquiring, but exceedingly polite. They admired especially my boots and gloves, which I pulled off to show them. One of them, turning up my sleeve, exclaimed at the whiteness of my wrist. At the end of an hour the elder lady rose, and wis.h.i.+ng me affectionately good morning, took her leave, the rest following.

We then had a pleasant day of peace and a sound night's rest, hardly disturbed by the ferocious shouting and singing of our guard, which, under other circ.u.mstances, might have been frightening. Anything more wild and barbarous than their chaunting I never listened to, but to us it was sweet as music, for we knew that it was raised to scare our jackals, the Beni Laam.

_April_ 2.-Next day we crossed the Kerkha. When we saw the size of the river, swollen with melted snow and running eight miles an hour, and as wide as the Thames at Greenwich, we felt thankful indeed for having met Sirdal Khan. Here there would have been no fording possible, and we, or at least our goods, would have been at the mercy of our robber escort.