Part 10 (1/2)
One of those furious and sudden storms, which frequently sweep over the plains of Mesopotamia during the spring season, burst over us in the night. Whilst incessant lightnings broke the gloom, a raging wind almost drowned the deep roll of the thunder. The united strength of the Arabs could scarcely hold the flapping canva.s.s of the tents. Rain descended in torrents, sparing us no place of shelter. Towards dawn the hurricane had pa.s.sed away, leaving a still and cloudless sky. When the round clear sun rose from the broad expanse of the desert, a delightful calm and freshness pervaded the air, producing mingled sensations of pleasure and repose.
The vegetation was far more forward in that part of the desert traversed during the day's journey than in the plain of Zerga. We trod on a carpet of the brightest verdure, mingled with gaudy flowers. On all sides of us rose lofty a.s.syrian mounds, now covered with soft herbage. These, seen from a great distance, and the best of landmarks in a vast plain, guide the Bedouin in his yearly wanderings.[108]
Tel Ermah, ”the mound of the spears,” had been visible from our tents, rising far above the surrounding ruins. As it was a little out of the direct line of march, Suttum mounted one of our led horses, and leaving Khoraif to protect the caravan, rode with me to the spot. The mound is precisely similar in character to Abou Khameera and Mokhamour, and, like them, stands within a quadrangle of earthen walls. I was unable to find any inscribed fragments of stone or brick.
Whilst I was examining the ruins, Suttum, from the highest mound, had been scanning the plain with his eagle eye. At length it rested upon a distant moving object. Although with a telescope I could scarcely distinguish that to which he pointed, the Sheikh saw that it was a rider on a dromedary. He now, therefore, began to watch the stranger with that eager curiosity and suspicion always shown by a Bedouin, when the solitude of the desert is broken by a human being of whose condition and business he is ignorant. Suttum soon satisfied himself as to the character of the solitary wanderer. He declared him to be a messenger from his own tribe, who had been sent to lead us to his father's tents. Mounting his horse, he galloped towards him. The Arab soon perceived the approaching horseman, and then commenced on both sides a series of manoeuvres practised by those who meet in the desert, and are as yet distrustful of each other. I marked them from the ruin as they cautiously approached, now halting, now drawing nigh, and then pretending to ride away in an opposite direction. At length, recognising one another, they met, and, having first dismounted to embrace, came together towards us. As Suttum had conjectured, a messenger had been sent to him from his father's tribe, to say that their tents would be pitched in three or four days beneath the Sinjar hill.
From this spot the old castle of Tel Afer, standing boldly on an eminence about ten miles distant, was plainly visible. Continuing our march we reached, towards evening, a group of mounds known as Tel Jemal, and pitched in the midst of them on a green lawn, enamelled with flowers, that furnished a carpet for our tents unequalled in softness of texture, or in richness of color, by the looms of Cashmere.
The tents had scarcely been raised when a party of hors.e.m.e.n were seen coming towards us. As they approached our encampment they played the Jerid with their long spears, galloping to and fro on their well-trained mares.
They were the princ.i.p.al inhabitants of Tel Afer with Ozair Agha, their chief, who brought us a present of lambs, flour, and fresh vegetables. The Agha rode on a light chestnut mare of beautiful proportions and rare breed. His dress, as well as that of his followers, was singularly picturesque. His people are Turcomans, a solitary colony in the midst of the desert; and although their connection with the Bedouins has taught them the tongue and the habits of the wandering tribes, yet they still wear the turban of many folds, and the gay flowing robes of their ancestors. They allow their hair to grow long, and to fall in curls on their shoulders.
As the evening crept on, I watched from the highest mound the sun as it gradually sank in unclouded splendor below the sea-like expanse before me.
On all sides, as far as the eye could reach, rose the gra.s.s-covered heaps marking the site of ancient habitations. The great tide of civilisation had long since ebbed, leaving these scattered wrecks on the solitary sh.o.r.e. Are those waters to flow again, bearing back the seeds of knowledge and of wealth that they have wafted to the West? We wanderers were seeking what they had left behind, as children gather up the colored sh.e.l.ls on the deserted sands. At my feet there was a busy scene, making more lonely the unbroken solitude which reigned in the vast plain around, where the only thing having life or motion were the shadows of the lofty mounds as they lengthened before the declining sun. Above three years before, when, watching the approach of night from the old castle of Tel Afer, I had counted nearly one hundred ruins[109], now, when in the midst of them, no less than double that number were seen from Tel Jemal. Our tents crowning the lip of a natural amphitheatre bright with flowers, Ozair Agha and his Turcomans seated on the greensward in earnest talk with the Arab chief, the horses picketed in the long gra.s.s, the Bedouins driving home their camels for the night's rest, the servants and grooms busied with their various labors; such was the foreground to a picture of perfect calm and stillness. In the distance was the long range of the Sinjar hills, furrowed with countless ravines, each marked by a dark purple shadow, gradually melting into the evening haze.
We had a long day's march before us to the village of Sinjar. The wilderness appeared still more beautiful than it had done the day before.
The recent storm had given new life to a vegetation which, concealed beneath a crust of apparently fruitful earth, only waits for a spring shower to burst, as if by enchantment, through the thirsty soil. Here and there grew patches of a shrub-like plant with an edible root, having a sharp pungent taste like mustard, eaten raw and much relished by the Bedouins. Among them lurked game of various kinds. Troops of gazelles sprang from the low cover, and bounded over the plain. The greyhounds coursed hares; the hors.e.m.e.n followed a wild boar of enormous size, and nearly white from age; and the Doctor, who was the sportsman of the party, shot a bustard, with a beautiful speckled plumage, and a ruff of long feathers round its neck.
We rode in a direct line to the Belled Sinjar, the residence of the governor of the district. There was no beaten track, and the camels wandered along as they listed, cropping as they went the young gra.s.s. The hors.e.m.e.n and footmen, too, scattered themselves over the plain in search of game. War-songs were chanted, and general hilarity prevailed. The more sedate Bedouins smiled in contempt at these noisy effusions of joy, only worthy of tribes who have touched the plough; but they indulged in no less keen, though more suppressed, emotions of delight. Even the Tiyari caught the general enthusiasm, and sung their mountain songs as they walked along.
As we drew near to the foot of the hills we found a large encampment, formed partly by Jebours belonging to Sheikh Abdul-Azeez, and partly by a Sinjar tribe called Mendka, under a chief known as the ”Effendi,” who enjoys considerable influence in this district.
I dismounted at a short distance from the encampment, to avoid a breach of good manners, as to refuse to eat bread, or to spend the night, after alighting near a tent, would be thought a grave slight upon its owner. The caravan continued its journey towards the village. I was soon surrounded by the princ.i.p.al people of the camp; amongst them was one of my old workmen, Khuther, who now cultivated a small plot of ground in the desert.
It was with difficulty that I resisted the entreaties of the Effendi to partake of his hospitality, and we did not reach the Belled until after the sun had gone down, the caravan having been ten hours in unceasing march.
I had scarcely entered my tent when the governor of the district, who resides in a small modern castle built on the hill-side, came to see me.
He was a Turkish officer belonging to the household of Kiamil Pasha, and complained bitterly of his solitude, of the difficulties of collecting the taxes, and of dealing with the Bedouins who haunted the plains. He was almost shut up within the walls of his wretched fort, in company with a garrison of a score of half-starved Albanians. This state of things was chiefly owing to the misconduct of his predecessor, who, when the inhabitants of the Sinjar were quiet and obedient, had treacherously seized two of their princ.i.p.al chiefs, Mahmoud and Murad, and had carried them in chains to Mosul, where they had been thrown into prison. A deputation having been sent to obtain their release, I had been able to intercede with Kiamil Pasha in their behalf, and now bore to their followers the welcome news of their speedy return to their homes.
Early on the following morning, I returned the visit of the governor, and, from the tower of the small castle, took bearings of the princ.i.p.al objects in the plain. The three remarkable peaks rising in the low range of Kebriteeyah, behind Abou Khameera, were still visible in the extreme distance, and enabled me to fix with some accuracy the position of many ruins. About four or five miles distant from the Belled, is another large group of mounds, resembling that of Abou Khameera, called by the Bedouins simply the ”Hosh,” the courtyard or inclosure.
The ruins of the ancient town, known to the Arabs as ”El Belled,” or _the_ city, are divided into two distinct parts by a range of rocky hills, which, however, are cleft in the centre by the bed of a torrent, forming a narrow ravine between them. The ruins are, undoubtedly, those of the town of Sinjar, the capital of an Arab princ.i.p.ality in the time of the Caliphs.
Its princes frequently a.s.serted their independence, coined money, and ruled from the Khabour and Euphrates to the neighbourhood of Mosul. The province was included within the dominions of the celebrated Saleh-ed-din (the Saladin of the Crusades), and was more than once visited by him. The ruins of Sinjar are also believed to represent the Singara of the Romans.
On coins struck under the Emperor Gordian, and bearing his effigy with that of the empress Tranquillina, this city is represented by a female wearing a mural crown surmounted by a centaur, seated on a hill _with a river at her feet_ (?). According to the Arab geographers, the Sinjar was celebrated for its palms. This tree is no longer found there, nor does it bear fruit, I believe, anywhere to the north of Tekrit in Mesopotamia.
Wis.h.i.+ng to visit the villages of the _Shomal_, or northern side of the mountain, and at the same time to put an end, if possible, to the bloodshed between their inhabitants, and to induce them to submit to the governor, I quitted the Belled in the afternoon, accompanied by Cawal Yusuf and his Yezidi companions, Mr. and Mrs. R., the Doctor, and Mr.
Cooper. We followed a precipitous pathway along the hill-side to Mirkan, the village destroyed by Tahyar Pasha on my first visit to the Sinjar.[110] Mirkan was in open rebellion, and had refused both to pay taxes and to receive the officer of the Pasha of Mosul. I was, at first, somewhat doubtful of our reception. Esau, the chief, came out, however, to meet me, and led us to his house. We were soon surrounded by the princ.i.p.al men of the village. They were also at war with the tribes of the ”Shomal.”
Seconded by Cawal Yusuf, I endeavored to make them feel that peace and union amongst themselves was essential to their welfare; and after a lengthened discussion the chief consented to accompany me to the neighbouring village of Bukra, with whose inhabitants his people had been for some time at war.
Mirkan had been partly rebuilt since its destruction three years before; but the ruins and charred timbers of houses still occupied much of its former site. There are two pathways from Mirkan to the ”Shomal,” one winding through narrow valleys, the other crossing the shoulder of the mountain. I chose the latter, as it enabled me to obtain an extensive view of the surrounding country, and to take bearings of many points of interest. Near the crest of the hill we pa.s.sed a white conical building, shaded by a grove of trees. It was the tomb of the father of Murad, one of Yusuf s companions, a Cawal of note, who had died near the spot of the plague some years before. The walls were hung with the horns of sheep, slain in sacrifice, by occasional pilgrims.
I had little antic.i.p.ated the beauty and extent of the view which opened round us on the top of the pa.s.s. The Sinjar hill is a solitary ridge rising abruptly in the midst of the desert; from its summit, therefore, the eye ranges on one side over the vast level wilderness stretching to the Euphrates, and on the other over the plain bounded by the Tigris and the lofty mountains of Kurdistan. Nisibin and Mardin were both visible in the distance. I could distinguish the hills of Baadri and Sheikh Adi, and many well-known peaks of the Kurdish Alps. Behind the lower ranges, each distinctly marked by its sharp, serrated outline, were the snow-covered heights of Tiyari and Bohtan. Whilst to the south of the Sinjar artificial mounds appeared to abound, to the north I could distinguish but few such remains. We dismounted to gaze upon this truly magnificent scene lighted up by the setting sun. I have rarely seen any prospect more impressive than these boundless plains viewed from a considerable elevation. Besides the idea of vastness they convey, the light and shade of pa.s.sing clouds flitting over the face of the land, and the shadows as they lengthen towards the close of day, produce constantly changing effects of singular variety and beauty.[111]
It was night before we reached Bukra, where we were welcomed with great hospitality. The best house in the village had been made ready for us, and was scrupulously neat and clean, as the houses of the Yezidis usually are. The elders of Bukra came to me after we had dined, and seated themselves respectfully and decorously round the room. They were not averse to the reconciliation I proposed, received the hostile chief without hesitation, and promised to accompany me on the morrow to the adjoining village of Ossofa, with which they were also at war. In the morning we visited several houses in the village. They were all neat and clean. The women received us without concealing their faces, which are, however, far from pleasing, their features being irregular, and their complexion sallow. Those who are married dress entirely in white, with a white kerchief under their chins, and another over their heads held by the _agal_, or woollen cord, of the Bedouins. The girls wear white s.h.i.+rts and drawers, but over them colored _zabouns_, or long silk dresses, open in front, and confined at the waist by a girdle ornamented with pieces of silver. They twist gay kerchiefs round their heads, and adorn themselves with coins, and gla.s.s and amber beads, when their parents are able to procure them. But the Yezidis of the Sinjar are now very poor, and nearly all the trinkets of the women have long since fallen into the hands of the Turkish soldiery, or have been sold to pay taxes and arbitrary fines. The men have a dark complexion, black and piercing eyes, and frequently a fierce and forbidding countenance. They are of small stature, but have well proportioned limbs strongly knit together, and are muscular, active, and capable of bearing great fatigue. Their dress consists of a s.h.i.+rt, loose trowsers and cloak, all white, and a black turban, from beneath which their hair falls in ringlets.
The Yezidis are, by one of their religious laws, forbidden to wear the common Eastern s.h.i.+rt open in front, and this article of their dress is always closed up to the neck. This is a distinctive mark of the sect, by which its members may be recognised at a glance. The language of the people of Sinjar is Kurdish, and few speak Arabic.
As the people of Ossofa, or Usifa, were at war with their neighbours, and as this was one of the princ.i.p.al seats of rebellion and discontent, I was anxious to have an interview with its chief. The position of Ossofa is very picturesque. It stands on the edge of a deep ravine; behind it are lofty crags and narrow gorges, whose sides are filled with natural caverns. On overhanging rocks, towering above the village, are two _ziarehs_, or holy places, of the Yezidis, distinguished from afar by their white fluted spires. Pulo, the chief, met us at the head of the princ.i.p.al inhabitants and led me to his house, where a large a.s.sembly was soon collected to discuss the princ.i.p.al object of my visit. The chiefs of Mirkan and Bukra were induced to make offers of peace, which were accepted, and, after much discussion, the terms of an amicable arrangement were agreed to and ratified by general consent. Sheep were slain to celebrate the event.
We pa.s.sed the night at Aldina, in the house of Murad, one of the imprisoned chiefs, whose release I had obtained before leaving Mosul. I was able to announce the good tidings of his approaching return to his wife, to whom he had been lately married, and who had given birth to a child during his absence.