Volume One—Chapter Twenty One.
Sankul, and Suggagédan. Dawáylaka and Amádoo in the Limits of the Galeyla Mudaïto.
Ascending by an extremely bad road the broken range to the southward, which commands a fine prospect over the valley of Gobaad, the káfilah reached Sankul on the 17th. It forms the focus of several small dales converging from the table-land, and shut in from all breeze by the surrounding steep black cliffs of basalt, passing into hornblende. A small cave near the encamping ground was occupied by a colony of industrious bees, and at the only well, flocks of the diminutive black-faced Berbera sheep were drinking from a trough formed of an ox-hide stretched between four stakes, to which the water was transferred in gourds by greasy Bedouin shepherdesses. The evening was passed in perpetual wrangling with these matrons during the operation of filling up the water-skins; and sad presage was afforded of a coming day of drought, which the exhausted and sinking cattle of the caravan were hourly waxing less able to endure.
The next march led over the high table-land of Hood Ali, a stony level thickly studded with dry grass, and extending in one monotonous plateau far as the eye could reach. The fetid carrion-flower here presented its globular purple blossoms among the crevices, and a singular medicinal plant, termed Lab-lubba, was detected by the keen eye of a savage who had before evinced a latent taste for botanical studies. The usual encamping ground at Arabdéra was found to be pre-occupied by a nomade tribe of Bedouin goat-herds, who monopolised the scanty water. Descending the range, therefore, the bluff brow of which commanded an extensive prospect over the wide level valley of Dullool, the káfilah halted at Suggagédan. This arid spot in the strand-like waste was covered with masses of lava and with blocks of basalt from the adjacent hills. It was parched by a burning atmosphere, and afforded no water whatever—calamities which resulted in the abandonment of a horse and two of the mules that were no longer able to bear up against thirst and fatigue; whilst many others now dragged their weary limbs with difficulty, and seemed but too well disposed to follow the example.
Dullool is one thousand two hundred and twenty-eight feet above the level of the sea—a perfect flat, covered with alluvial deposit, and studded with extensive tracts of coarse dry grass in tufts, among which, as the almost interminable string of camels crossed the following morning, both ostriches and gazelles were descried. It is bounded by a bold mountain range, and the further extremity of the plain, towards the foot of Jebel Márie, is perfectly bare, stretching away to the westward, in one uninterrupted sheet of hard compact mud, which imparts the aspect of the Runn of Cutch. A herd of wild asses, precisely similar to those found on the Indian salt desert, materially enhanced the resemblance; and the sun, which had now attained considerable altitude, casting his rays in a full blaze over the naked plain, called up the dancing mirage that was alone wanting to complete the picture.
On this level expanse, which terminates in a cul-de-sac, shut in by high basaltic walls, inaccessible either to man or beast, the Adaïel affect to ride down the wild ass, upon lean mules forsooth, and to rip up the quarry with their creeses. There had been much vain-glorious talking upon this head, but it ended, like every Danákil boast, in nothing. The hawk-eye of the Ogre detected an out-lying mare among the ravines at the foot of the range, and he dashed off the road with such lightning speed, that the animal narrowly escaped being hemmed into a corner; but once on the broad desert, and she tossed her arched neck, kicked up her wanton heels, and laughed at the absurd efforts of her impotent pursuers.
Loose stones again strewed the approach to the Márie range, which is of trap formation, of a slaty texture, stained with red iron oxide, and intersected by veins of iron clay. A breach in the hills, here about a thousand or twelve hundred feet high, formed a steep sloping ridge of lava rocks, containing quantities of carbonate of lime, disposed in rhomboids and hexagonal sheets. In this nook, surrounded by a thick jungle of acacia, were sundry basins filled with clear water, to which the solar rays had not penetrated. They afforded most refreshing draughts; and the skins having been replenished, the encampment was formed at Dawáylaka, a full mile beyond. Márie is not a word of either Arabic or Dankáli derivation; whence it seems not improbable that this bold range of hills may in days of yore have been named by some wanderer from the West.
A fine fresh morning succeeded to a very sultry night, passed upon the hard hot stones; and at break of day, the cattle having been taken to the pools, where, at so early an hour, they would drink but little, the skins were again replenished, and the caravan pursued its march to Oomergooloof, which can boast of no water at any season. Of two roads, the lower, but more level, was adopted, in consequence of the exhaustion of the beasts of burthen. It led across a dry desert plain of six miles, over which the delusion of mirage was complete. Covering the valley far as the eye could reach, to the foot of the hills which rise abruptly on all sides, it imparted the appearance of an extensive bay, shut in by projecting headlands—a still calm lake, so unmoved by the wind that every cliff was most distinctly reflected on the mirror of its glassy bosom.
Approaching from a higher level, a ripple played upon the surface of the visionary water; and the vapour being too subtle to screen irregularities of the ground, the aqueous expanse soon became gradually disunited, until it ultimately vanished altogether. The scene, cool and pleasant whilst it endured, formed a striking contrast to the baked alluvial desert under foot, destitute of even a vestige of vegetation, but over which was wafted a zephyr as unlooked-for as refreshing. Thrown in a particular way, and on certain atoms, rays of light produce illusions to the vision which are often embodied after the likeness of objects most deeply dwelling in the imagination. Thus it was that the character of the headlands of Dullool, square and perpendicular, together with an islet riding like a ship at her cable in the centre of the molten basin, aided the striking similarity of names in the respective neighbourhoods, to bring vividly before the eyes of all, the apparition of the bay of Goobut el Kharáb.
Immediately opposite to Oomergooloof is a projecting spur from Jebel Oobnoo, a lofty range visible to the westward; and this divides the plain into two valleys, whereof the southern-most is denominated Wady Arfa. The Márie range here towers overhead, steep and precipitous, to the height of about nine hundred feet; stupendous masses of rock which have been detached from the summit, and strew the entire base, corroborating the assertion of the Danákil that earthquakes are frequently felt in the vicinity. Nomade tribes with their families and flocks, having settled at the wells which exist at a distance, had compelled the gentler portion of the Libyan creation to resort to regions more blest with water; and not even a desert-loving gazelle was espied during the march of twelve miles.
Ibrahim Shehém Ablí had long viewed with the eye of bigoted disapproval, the attentions paid by one of the Mohammadan followers to two canine companions of the party, pets that had survived the passage of the fiery Teháma, but whose feet had become so lacerated by the hot lava boulders as to incapacitate them from walking. Quilp—for so the offending Moslem was styled from his striking resemblance to that notable character—was in the act of extricating his wire-haired charge from the panniers wherein they travelled, when the irascible little warrior approached, and, drawing his trenchant blade, swore with a dreadful anathema to exterminate him on the spot. “Dog, and father of dogs,” he exclaimed, seizing the dismayed mortal by the throat, “beware how thou again defilest thy fingers with those accursed curs, or by the beard of the Prophet I will sever thy gullet as one who has brought foul discredit upon the faith.” Then relaxing his grasp, and sheathing his creese with a horizontal flourish, he threw himself into the attitude of a slaughtered victim, and closed the significant lecture by mimicry of the gurgle heard in a divided windpipe, whence the tide of life is welling.
Several herds of cattle pertaining to the Issehirába Mudaïto, grazed in the neighbourhood; and these were said to derive their supply of water from pools formed by a cluster of hot sulphureous springs at the further extremity of the plain, which, with a loud noise, rise bubbling from the earth at a boiling temperature. Possessing marvellous medicinal properties, they are believed to be a panacea for every malady: but the tribe not being on terms with the Danákil, these thermal wells could not be visited, neither could water be obtained either for man or beast. A few Mudaïto females, with their children, strolled into the camp to sell sheep, and stare at the Feringees; but the Ras el Káfilah would scarcely permit them to be spoken to, and was in a nervous fidget until they departed. Avowing that these greasy dames had come for no other purpose than to spy out the nakedness of the land, and that the creeses of their liege lords would prove troublesome during the night, he strictly interdicted all wandering beyond camp limits, and insisted upon the discharge of several volleys of musketry in addition to the cartridge expended at guard-mounting, and at every relief of sentries.
The sky having become gradually overcast towards evening, a deluge, equally to be desired and dreaded, was deemed close at hand, but the threatening appearance passed off with the hot blast of the Shimál, accompanied by a cloud of dust, and followed by a close oppressive night. Skirting the Márie range to a tract thickly strewed with rounded masses of lava and basalt, the detritus from the adjacent hills, the road now wound over a volcanic ridge which divides the valley of Dullool from that of Amádoo, running exactly parallel to it. In this latter the caravan halted on the 21st, about a mile from a large pool of rain-water, occupying a rocky nook formed by huge blocks of basalt. The stagnant green fluid was far more palatable than it looked, although troubled by a legion of homed cattle, asses, goats, and sheep, the property of the Galeyla Mudaïto, who were encamped in great force in the neighbourhood, and looked what they are said to be—most desperate villains.
Altogether it was a bustling scene. Herdsmen shouted in every direction to their kine, whose sinister glances and lowered heads proclaimed their dislike of the white intruders; flocks of Somauli sheep, with incommodiously overgrown tails, swam about like otters to cool their heated skins; numbers of Bedouin damsels, after laving their own greasy persons, replenished their dirty water-skins; and one wrinkled old hag, in direct breach of the Moslem prejudice against “man’s friend,” was absolutely detected in the act of cleansing the rough coat of her own pet-dog.
This pastoral scene of savage life, where the peaceful occupation of the shepherd contrasted strangely with the presence of spear and buckler, was about mid-day exchanged for the tent. A crowd of listless, tattooed savages, bearing very indifferent characters for honesty, soon swaggered in to see what they could pick up, and presently waxed so passing insolent that it was deemed prudent to intimidate them by a display of rifle-practice. Emboldened by numbers, they had begun to question old Izhák regarding his right to conduct strangers through the country without the permission, first duly obtained, of the “lords of the soil;” but seeing the stones fly about in splinters at two hundred and fifty yards they were not long in decamping, and gave no further annoyance. The Galeyla tribe of Mudaïto, which still boasts of the most expert and notorious thieves in the country, is, as might be conjectured, on no very amicable terms with the Danákil; and the very severe chastisement it received at the hands of Loheïta ibn Ibrahim sufficiently accounted for the sudden desertion of the unattended Ogre, who donned his seven-league boots, and strode back to his castle from Dawáylaka, after he had pledged himself to accompany the party to the borders of the territory occupied by Mohammad Ali’s clan.
From Amádoo, Aussa was represented to be only one day’s journey for a swift mule, and two for a caravan of laden camels, the road branching off across Wady Arfa, and over the Jebel Oobnoo range, by which the extensive valley is bounded. At this point, moreover, had ceased the pretended influence of Mohammad ibn Mohammad, Sultán of Tajúra, the utter futility of propitiating whom had long been sufficiently apparent. Although in the eyes of the uninitiated it was no difficult matter to invest this avaricious imbecile with supreme authority over a fiery desolate tract, in most parts obviously unfitted for human location, his own immediate retainers did not now conceal that Mirsa Dukhán, and the Gollo mountains near the Salt Lake, bound even his nominal jurisdiction. He is in fact Sultán of the sultry strand whereon his frail tenement is erected; for the few lawless wanderers beyond, over whom he would assert supremacy, are universally thieves and murderers, who disdain all fixed abode, disclaim all mortal control, and acknowledge their own unbridled inclinations as their only master.
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Two.
Red House of Mudaïto—Chronicle of the Conquest of Aussa.
Distinguished like the houses of York and Lancaster by their respective colours, “the white house” of Débenik-Wóema, composed of various Adaïel clans, who in time of need rally under one standard, is banded against the Assa-himéra, “the red house” of the Mudaïto, with the same bitter feud and animosity which spread desolation through the fair domains of England, and poured out the best blood of her heroic sons. Well would it be for the cause of humanity were these savage combatants animated also with the same noble and chivalrous feelings which in days of yore reigned paramount in the breast of the British knight, and met together only in the open field of honourable contest. But the case is widely different indeed; and under whatever circumstances the hated and hereditary foe may here be discovered, the unarmed bosom of the lone, sleeping, or unsuspecting wanderer, rarely fails to prove a sheath for the murderous knife of the assassin.
Aussa, formerly an important town, was, less than a century ago, the capital and principal seat of the united tribes of Mudaïto, who extend thence to Ras Billool, and are represented to be countless as the hairs of a Danákil head. Regarded as the seat of wisdom and learning, and governed in the latter days of its strength by Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, a brave and martial sultán, whose armoury boasted of many matchlocks, and of several small pieces of cannon, it long flourished in powerful independence—a bright spot of beauty in a waste of barrenness. But the sun of its prosperity at length set; and the predatory hostilities long exercised towards the various united tribes of Adaïel, leading to a general invasion on the part of the Ado-himéra, the prince was slain, the stronghold of the “red house” sacked, and its garrison put to the sword: nor in these degenerate days is this once important place more than an extensive encampment, whereat is held a perpetual fair, frequented by all the tribes of Danákil, Eesah, Somauli, and Mudaïto.
The site of Aussa, a wide-stretching valley, described to be from eight to ten days’ journey across for a caravan, is hemmed in by lofty mountains, and fertilised in all its extended quarters by the Lakes Guraaïd, Abhibbab, Hilloo, and Dugód—the first situated a little to the eastward of the town, and the last by far the largest of the four. These vast stagnant basins in the plain receive the Abyssinian waters of the Háwash and its tributaries, in addition to the contributions of all the streams from Jebel Oobnoo and other collateral ranges—the abundance of fluid thus lost upon volcanic formation, so enriching the soil as to enable this district to produce wheat, juwarree, barley, Indian com, pepper, and tobacco, in quantities sufficient for the supply of the entire coast.
The Háwash may be conjectured to have experienced interruption in its course to the Bahr Assál and Bay of Tajúra, at the same period that volcanic agency divided the waters of the great Salt Lake from Goobut el Kharáb. Miles around the wonted boundaries of each lagoon now become annually inundated during the spreading of the great freshes; and, as the floods, carried off by absorption and evaporation, again recede, the soil is covered with a fertilising sediment—a fat alluvial deposit, which with little labour yields an ample return. Even the lazy and listless Danákil, who neither sows nor reaps elsewhere, is here induced to turn agriculturist; but not a single acre of ground in any direction is to be found under the plough from the sea even to the mountains of Abyssinia—a distance exceeding three hundred and fifty miles.
Pastoral as well as agricultural pursuits engage the population of Aussa; but whilst the cultivating portion of the inhabitants are permanent residents on the soil, the shepherds are annually driven away by the gad-fly, which attacks the flocks from the setting-in of the rainy season until the termination of the fast of Ramzan, when the waters have again subsided, and the herdsman, descending from the mountains, returns to his occupation in the valley. An extensive commercial intercourse is moreover carried on with Tajúra. Salt from the Bahr Assál, blue calico, which is in high demand for the caps universally worn by the married Bedouin females, zinc, pewter, and brass or copper wire, used both for personal ornament, and for the decoration of weapons, are bartered for the produce of the luxuriant soil—some few caravans crossing the Háwash, and pursuing their journey along the western bank to Dowwé, on the frontier of the Wollo Galla, in order to purchase slaves; or striking into the main road at Amádoo, and so prosecuting their way to Shoa for a similar purpose.
Mudaïto tribes occupy the entire plain of Aussa, but they are now divided into five distinct nations. The Assa-himéra are under the rule of Humferi, a descendant of the ancient house of Ajdáhis, who preserves the empty title of Sultán, and resides at the decayed capital. Eastward are the Issé-hirába, governed by Das Ali, an independent chief, and the Galeyla, under Daamer Ibrahim; south are the Dár, who own allegiance to Akil Digger Myárgi; and west are the ferocious Koorhá, under the sway of Yoosuf Aboo Bekr, who, also with the title of Akil, resides at Alta, and wages war indiscriminately on both Assa-himéra and Débenik-Wóema.
South-westward of the valley of Aussa are the independent Adaïel tribes Hurruk Bodaïto, over whom presides Gobuz Elincha, a powerful chieftain, who has espoused Léni, daughter of Birru Lubo, the Prince of Argóbba, and through whose territories lies the high caravan route to Dowwé, with which the traffic is considerable. On the north, the Mudaïto are bounded by the distinct nation styled Hírto, under the rule of Yingool Ali—Mohammadans, deriving their origin from the Arab invaders of the seventh century, and speaking a language not very dissimilar from the Adaïel, who claim the same descent.
Aussa is still the abode of all the Uleemas, Aukál, and learned doctors, for whom the Mudaïto have ever been renowned, but the present government is singularly constituted. The aged Sultán Humferi, son of Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, has retained with his high-sounding title the mere shadow of authority, which is in truth vested in Mohammad Ali, the vicegerent of the Débenik-Wóema, appointed by general suffrage from Tajúra. Residing at Kulloo, and ruling with an iron hand, he admits of little interference; and, in all cases where disputes between the “red” and “white” houses of the proprietors of the soil and their invaders, terminate fatally to the latter, takes two lives for one, according to the immemorial observance in blood feuds.
Ameer Sulaam, the Wuzír of the Mudaïto, is head of all the sages, and he is aided in the administration of justice by Hurrur Hássan, Téeoh, and Bérbera or “Pepper” Ali, the latter so styled from the volubility of his sarcastic tongue. This triumvirate of venerable sheikhs, whose wisdom and learning is reputed to be kum el báhr, “profound as the sea,” is referred to on all occasions where knotty points are at issue, whether amongst the Ado-himéra or Mudaïto; and even the Sultán of Tajúra was on a late occasion held bound to abide by their arbitration, relative to the projected marriage of his son to a bride from another clan of the “white house,” a measure which was resisted, and which he was desirous of enforcing. Yet a transit duty of fifty per cent, is levied by Mohammad ibn Mohammad upon all exports made by the Mudaïto, whereas ten per cent, only is exacted from the numerous Danákil tribes.
“A large Arab force from Zeylá,” observed Ibrahim Shehém Abli, who was well versed in the chronicles of Aussa, “was induced to join the Débenik-Wóema in their invasion of the predatory Mudaïto hordes; and overtures of capitulation having been made by Yoosuf Ali ibn Ajdáhis, they were thrown off their guard. During the night the Wóema, who knew with what villains they had to deal, bivouacked upon the heights of Dugódlee and Hy Tunkóma, where they rested safely enough. But the blockheads of Arabs choosing to sleep in the plain, the garrison took advantage of their folly to make a goom: and so cleverly was it managed, that by Allah! they succeeded in drawing their creeses across the throats of all save one.”
Nothing intimidated by this reverse, and joined by fresh allies from the coast, the Wóema were not long in renewing the attack; and the whole of the Adaïel tribes who rally under the standard of “the white house,” making common cause, the Mudaïto sustained a murderous defeat, when their stronghold, which had maintained its integrity unimpaired for so many centuries, fell at last into the hands of their hereditary foe.
A long term of years elapsed, but the hearts of the scions of the “red house” still rankled under this disaster; and, bent upon retaliation, the assembled clans, designing to plunder the now decayed sea-port whence their Arab invaders had been furnished, made a rapid inroad into the country of the Eesah Somauli. Unprepared, the tribe fled before the host in dismay, but presently recovering from the panic created by the sudden burst of war, rallied in great numbers, fell furiously upon the foe, and left not one marauding Mudaïto alive to tell the issue of the disastrous day. The “great battle,” as this signal rout is still termed, was about three years ago fought within sight of Zeyla, on the plains of Takoosha, now white with the skeletons of a tribe.
“Brave men are these Mudaïto,” continued the old warrior, playing carelessly with the hilt of his creese, which was seldom suffered to repose quietly in his girdle; “but they are not to be compared with us. Hamdu-lillah, ‘Praise be unto the Lord,’ I slew their sheikh with my own hand; and here is the identical scratch that I received in the scuffle. As for the Eesah,” he concluded, “with their childish bows and arrows, they are sad cowards. One Dankáli spear is an over-match for fifty of their best marksmen in a fair fight; and I have myself dealt single-handed with six, although the villains came like thieves in the dark.”
Ibrahim Shehém was requested to reconcile this character with the issue of the great battle just recounted, wherein the despised tribe had so signalised itself. “That,” quoth he of Tajúra, “was a dastardly surprise; and Wullah, had I been the invader with a handful of Danákil spearmen, there would have been another tale to tell.”
Bas Ali, late sheikh of the cultivating portion of the Aussa population, some years since made an attempt to restore the exclusive rule to the Mudaïto, and to this end headed a conspiracy sworn upon the Korán to plough the field no more until the head of the Wóema vicegerent should be exalted upon a pole at the city gate, and his body have been cast out to the hyaenas. He was however waylaid and assassinated by Ibrahim Shehém Abli, who received a wound in the cheek. The numerous scars which adorned the diminutive person of this hero proclaimed him to have made one in many an affray; and, if his own account might be believed, all were honourably gained. Nevertheless the singular aversion that he displayed to passing certain watering-places in brood daylight, and his skulking port at Amádoo more especially, had tended not a little to confirm the disparaging anecdotes maliciously narrated by his compatriots, relative to the mode in which some of these much-prized distinctions had been acquired.
The veteran Ali Arab had sat in gloomy silence during the early part of the conversation, but his light wicker cap started to the apex of his bald crown as he rose in wrath at the last vaunting words of the son of the Débeni. “Heed not the empty boast of that braggart,” he exclaimed, with boiling indignation, forgetting his wonted taciturnity—“Brave as the lion’s whelp are the hardy children of Yemen, and but for the cowardly desertion of their false allies there would have been a different issue to the fell night at Aussa. Do the Wóema to this hour not pay tribute to Zeyla in acknowledgment of the assistance rendered? The event was written in the sealed volume of Fate. The decree of the Almighty was fulfilled. But lest you should have believed the disparaging statements of this vain-glorious scorner, I will even recount the misfortunes of a campaign fraught with sad disaster to my kindred.”
Uttering these words, he led the way to his enclosure, reared of bales of the most costly wares which had been committed to his tried integrity; and there, seated upon the rich shawls of Cachemire, or upon the choicest manufactures of the British loom, the party, provided each with a tiny cup of most potent coffee, gave ear in silence to the old man’s tale, which in the two ensuing chapters shall be presented in the form that would appear best calculated to afford a picture of warfare in the Desert.
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Three.
Arab March over the Téhama.
All was bustle and confusion in the small sea-port town of Zeyla. Camels were screaming as the well-filled sacks were tied tightly upon the saddles. The idle portion of the population had assembled to admire the pride and pomp of war. Women were running to and fro with more than usual briskness, to deliver some forgotten package to a body of men who stood under arms in the market-place; and crowds streamed to join the group through the narrow bazaar, which had been lit up for the occasion, whence arose a confused hum of higgling and barter, as each last want was supplied by the merciless Hindoo trader, on the credit of a successful return from the foray.
A motley diversity prevailed in the age, dress, arms, accoutrements, and bearing of the assembled party; but the turban and the checked kilt, the frequency of the long, ornamented matchlock, and the thousand strange-fashioned leathern pouches and pockets, dangling from every part of the person, proclaimed the presence of a body of warriors of the Faithful. And more than sufficient for the sultry climate was the cumbrous attire of the foreign mercenaries. Every colour of the rainbow had been appropriated to their full varied vestments. Red, and yellow, and green, surmounted the dark elf-like locks of the soldiers of Yemen; knives and long heavy swords glittered in their rich shawl waist-cloths; and the national cloak of Arabia, clasped across the tawny breast, floated gaily over each stalwart frame.
Numerous mules stood ready saddled in the busy square, and many were the long provident bags and water-skins strapped behind each high wooden cantle. The band had not been engaged to act as cavalry, but Arab troops are somewhat self-willed as to their tactics and style of movement, and at no time relish interference in any of those little private arrangements which they can afford for their personal comfort.
The grey eye and the grisly beard of the veteran from Hejáz, and the fierce glance and the long raven hair of the inhabitant of Medina, were exhibited together under the light of a blazing fire; and it might have been observed that the strongest current of female attention set towards the spot where the youth were collected, hammering the hard bullets down their rusty matchlocks.
“God is great!”—ejaculated a gaily-bedecked stripling, as he added an extra pinch of powder, for good luck, to the handful already poured into his long culverin. “Bring me alien, that he may feel the hands of the mighty, and Inshallah! if the leader of the expedition be of my mind, we shall not return empty-handed to have our beards laughed at by these fat kafirs from Hinde. Better were it to quaff at once the waters of immortality. But alas! Amru! the star was little on the ascendant when, forsaking the pleasant terraces and the cypress-waisted damsels of Mocha, thy stupid head dreamt of receiving two piastres a day from the treasury of the Sheriffe, or of being cooped up with infidels in a perfect Jehánnam upon earth.”
This speech was received with considerable applause, for the Reis Amru was well liked by his comrades in arms. Jokes passed freely among the youth, who were all in high good humour at being released from the dull stupidity of a hot garrison; and each talked gaily of his future deeds of prowess, although as yet nothing had transpired as to the nature or object of the enterprise.
But the veterans were crowded together in a mass, and their scowling downcast looks betokened little satisfaction in the coming march. A one-eyed ancient, who had witnessed as many fights as the remaining locks upon his wrinkled head, was employed in grinding a notch from his long sweeping sword, whilst he ever and anon gave vent to his spleen and displeasure. “No good can ever come of intercourse with these unbelieving savages,” growled the old man to a fellow gambler. “The skulking sons of the Débeni have been in close conference with the Ameer for the greater part of the day; and the youth Osmán is not the leader to conduct a party of the Faithful among the deserts and the hills of this parched land. Blood will flow from the veins of these hot-headed striplings, crimson as the cloth which flaunts above their head-gear. Aye, and the dream of the last night can be now easily interpreted. Listen to me,” he muttered, in lower accents: “I dreamt of the pleasant lands of Saba, and saw the sparkling waters flowing over the bright green turf. The tribe of my fathers had assembled together, and the ‘hail, welcome, may your arrival be happy,’ came soothingly to my wearied ear; but an impassable gulf yawned at my feet, and the cold touch of the dread Azraïl startled me from my slumbers. Nevertheless if we be fated to perish by the hand of the savage, it shall never be said that old Kásim Ali was the man to oppose his destiny.”
In good sooth the authorities had been sued for assistance by their friends the Wóema; and as immunities, and privileges, and certain percentage upon all slave caravans, were the inducements artfully held out by the sagacious tribe, the proffered alliance had been eagerly accepted. The Wóema deputation departed at sunset, after the ratification of the treaty; and a few of their scouts were alone left to serve as guides through a country hitherto untraversed by any Arab inhabitant of Zeyla.
Three quarters of the entire garrison were ordered for immediate duty. Gunpowder, balls, and coffee, had been handed out during the afternoon, together with a promise of arrears of pay on return; and as the moon raised her broad disk above the still expanse of the Indian Ocean, the party remained grouped as above related, awaiting in the market-place the arrival of their leader.
The impatient Osmán, accompanied by the Ameer and all the holy men of the town, shortly relieved them from suspense. His scarlet abba floated over his shoulders, and the gold of his headdress sparkled in the beams of the pale orb, as he placed himself at the head of the party to receive the “Salaam Aleikum” of his officers.
The young chief had lately arrived from the opposite coast to take the military command, but his proud and reserved bearing had gained neither the respect nor the good-will of his inferiors. Stories were whispered about that an evil star presided over his destiny, and that the settled gloom on his swarthy brow was caused by the continued tissue of ill luck which had hitherto blasted his every aspiration after fame.
His quick ear had caught the murmurings of the discontented. “Dread not events unknown,” he exclaimed as he cast a withering glance over the group. “Be not down-hearted, for the fountain of the water of life is involved in obscurity. Defile not the spring of hope with the dust of despondency, for, praise be to God! the creator of the universe, if ye walk even into the dens of the lion or the pard, they will not tear you save on the destined day.”
Then raising his voice Osmán shouted aloud, “Seero,” move on in the name of the Prophet. “May Allah be with you! May Allah watch over you!” solemnly chanted the chief moola as he waved the holy book in the air. The troops poured through the gateway, and sweeping slowly, like a thick cloud, along the face of the plain, were soon lost in the darkness of the desert.
There be always some ardent spirits to raise the drooping mass; and in the commencement of a march, as in the beginning of life, even the most down-hearted feel a spark of hope as to the happy result. But after the first burst of enthusiasm was expended, and the troops were fairly launched into the lone waste, the loose discourse and the merry laugh gradually failed, and in sad and gloomy silence they trod on for hours, sinking in the deep hot sand, or stumbling among the black blocks of lava which were thickly strewed over this tract of fire.
The ominous bird of night flitted from left to right and hooted mournfully from a bare tree, as the gallant train swept past the last watering-place in the Wady of Takoosha; and many a “wullah” was poured forth, as the herds of antelope bounded along the same evil and portentous track, as if pursued by the exulting demon of destruction. “Man proposes but God disposes,” muttered those whose secret misgivings were heightened by these prognostics: the heart of the bravest quailed under the accumulation of unlucky omens, and all felt for the moment, that they were doomed men.
Little order prevailed along the motley line. Mounted on his mule and wrapped in his own dark thoughts, Osmán led the van, and a group of light-limbed Wóema who clustered round the chief, pointed out the direction of march. No vestige was there of a pathway, and the dark ravine and the lone hill were passed in weary succession, as each camel, and mule, and man on foot, struggled along during many hours of the hot night. A few pools of standing water left by a providential shower of rain were at length selected as the first halting-place, and, worn out and dispirited, the sons of Yemen, piling their heavy fire-arms, sank to sleep upon the bare ground.
The tract of country extending from the coast to Ramudéle is a bare and joyless desert, where water is to be met with only at long intervals, where little food is to be procured either for man or beast, and where the heat is like the breath of the glass furnace. But Arabs are accustomed to the arid regions of their own stony land, and as they feed like famished wolves when food is to be obtained, they can, like those gaunt animals, endure the extremity of fasting. The morning sun roused the party to renovated strength; and as the news spread through the camp that the rich town of Aussa was the object of the enterprise, and that a large force of the Wóema had assembled to cooperate in the attack, no bounds were set upon the extravagant bravadoes uttered. Amru, as he strutted along with his turban placed jauntily upon his head, declared that even the gardens of Mocha and their rose-scented houris might be improved by a man of taste, if provided with the requisite means; whilst the grumbling old Kásim and his compeers, cheering up for the moment, commenced a calculation as to the probable gain to be derived from sundry captives, with which on their return they had resolved to fill the market.
But although a degree of hilarity had been thus restored throughout the host, the black cloud still hung over the brow of its leader. No friendly footing was established with his followers; no word of encouragement proceeded from his lips. Orders and arrangements were given in the cold, calm tone of desperation, and a feeling of coming evil shook each sturdy frame, as he strode in moody silence to his accustomed station in the line of march.
For seven weary days did they manfully toil through the blank dreary desert, where Nature had spread wide her plains of barrenness, and where the image of utter desolation was but seldom disturbed by the appearance either of man or of vegetation. The heat of the day caused the lips to peel. The poisonous wind dried the marrow in the bone; and at rare intervals indeed, some tiny encampment of the wandering Buddoo alone cheered the site of the stagnant pool. A few camels dotted the unbroken expanse of the forbidding plain, and here and there a withered acacia threw her thorny limbs wildly into the hot atmosphere.
The camp of the Wóema was pitched at Ramudéle, and fer on either hand as the eye could compass, stretched along the low belt of bushes which mark the course of the river Chekaïto. A confused mass of fragile mats, and animals, and human beings, lay huddled together. From the midst of the disorderly array arose a thick forest of broad-headed spears; and as the men clustered in hundreds to greet the arrival of their allies, the ferocity of their appearance elicited universal applause. The indomitable spirit of savage independence shone in their dark lustrous eyes, and their lank, but well-moulded figures were surmounted by the white ostrich feather drooping gracefully over the matted hair, the token of bloody prowess in the fight.
In barbarous profusion an ample entertainment stood ready prepared. Large messes of meat and dishes of melted ghee were smoking in every quarter of the camp; and after the welcome had been received from every hand, Osmán retired with the sheiks of the tribe to their temporary domicile, leaving the Arab host to resign themselves to enjoyment, and to rest after their long and weary march over the frightful Teháma.
Volume One—Chapter Twenty Four.
Massacre of the Five Hundred.
Feasting and amusement wiled away the hours until the appointed day, when the necessary reinforcements having joined, the entire force moved hurriedly off towards the unsuspecting object of attack.
On the third morning of their march the hills of Dugódlee were crossed, and the smiling valley of Aussa was seen peacefully stretched at the feet of the invaders. Nothing could exceed the beauty of this oasis in the desert, so strangely expanded between two gigantic mountains; the crest of the one frowning black, broken, and abrupt, whilst the other rises in steep but gradual turfy acclivity to the very summit, whence rich indeed was the wide prospect displayed.
Green fields extended far as the eye could see. Flocks quietly ranged among the grassy nooks, and four lakes, unruffled by a breeze, reflected back the Iris rays of the morning sun upon the broken sides of the wooded lulls. Hemmed in by fantastic ranges, the river Háwash threaded the upper portion of the long valley like a cord of silver, and rushing into the broad expanse of Lake Hilloo, at length found rest for its troubled waters in the deep, mysterious basin, from which no visible stream adds its tribute to the blue ocean.
The city of Aussa was pleasantly situated on the upper extremity of the lake, and its low, conical, thatched roofs were half concealed among the towering verdure of the shadowy trees. As the host crowned the opposite hill, herds of beasts, and crowds of human beings, streamed from every side through the stout hedge of thorns that encircled the wall, and the voice of the muezzin rising faintly from the distant mosque, summoned the inhabitants to prayer in this most unlooked-for tribulation.
Confident of success, and exulting in their own numbers, and in the potent fire-arms of five hundred bearded allies, the savage host rushed whooping down the hill, their spears erect, and their souls hungry for the prey. But no shout responded from the silent town of the Mudaïto, and no weapon glittered in its defence. Already had the Wóema formed in serried lines, and already were the eyes and the shields of the warriors agitated by those portentous revolutions which are the prelude to the fatal rush, when a portion of the thorn fence was quietly drawn aside, and a band of aged men stepped upon the intermediate plain. A green branch waved in their unarmed hands, and their venerable white beards flowed nearly to their girdles. The sages of Aussa, whose wisdom was “as the depths of the sea,” and who engrossed all the learning and holiness of the land, were there congregated together. The prejudice of the savage was aroused, and the presence of men acknowledged, to whom every dispute among the tribes had hitherto been referred, and whose decisions had been always most implicitly received. The cause of complaint, and the hope of plunder, were for the moment almost forgotten, and every spear sank to the ground as sheikhs and akils advanced to the front to receive the message from the beleaguered city.
Assuming the posture of earnest entreaty, the elders of the Mudaïto were not sparing of their oily words:—“All ancient differences should be fully adjusted, and the Wóema should depart to their own tents, loaded with the richest produce of Aussa as a free gift of its elders; but the great conference could not be held until the morrow; the chief, Yoosuf Ali, was absent, and a swift messenger could scarcely reach him before nightfall. Would the Wóema meanwhile destroy the seat of learning and of religion? Would the sons brandish the gory spear where their fathers were wont to fall prostrate in prayer? If camels had been stolen, the thieves should be delivered over to punishment, and every point of dispute should be most satisfactorily arranged.”
The chiefs of the Wóema withdrew in order to deliberate apart, and divers were the opinions given in the ensuing discussion. The fiery Arab urged an immediate attack, now that the enemy were unprepared and fully given into the hand of the spoiler; but the words of mercy at length prevailed, and the terms having been acceded to, the wily elders, as they took their departure, displayed features lighted with a grim smile of inward satisfaction.
High raged the storm in the camp of the invading chiefs. Expressions of contempt were bandied back upon the term of coward, with which Osmán had taunted the Adel conclave. Swords and creeses were drawn, and stout adherents were not wanting with spear and matchlock to support their respective leaders. The veteran Sheïkh nevertheless contrived to still the troubled waters. Commanding his clan to draw back, and be at rest, he succeeded in convincing the Arab that he was not to be forgotten in the forthcoming division of the spoil. Finally the parties separated in sullen mood—the Wóema to ascend the hills of Hy Tunkóma, where they had resolved to rest among the rocky caverns, whereas the fearless sons of Arabia remained upon the open plain on which the angry dispute had taken place.
Meanwhile the town was in a state of hot fermentation. The few warriors who were accidentally at home, inflamed by the speeches of their respected elders, prepared quietly for the most desperate resistance. Swift-footed messengers stole out ever and anon through various cuts and passages in the hedge, with orders to call to the rescue every member of the tribe; and the most fearful denunciations were prepared for any who should refuse aid in this the day of national distress. Onwards over hill and dale sped the untiring scout. At his warning voice the shepherd left his flock, and the hunter stayed his successful chase. Sheïkhs and akils seized spear and shield, and with all disposable force obeyed the hasty summons. Every encampment joined its quota to the fast swelling host, now streaming towards the valley of the deep waters; and long ere the moon raised her pale disk above the hills, full communication had been held with the city, and every arrangement was thoroughly matured for the attack.
Blinded by the feint of abject submission, the doomed body of Arabs had encamped upon the open plain. Little order or arrangement could be observed, and not a symptom was there of military vigilance. No watchful sentry paced his steady beat, nor had any disposition been attempted for safety or for defence. All had bivouacked on the spot where they happened to be standing, and after their appetites had been sufficiently appeased, the lazy partisans lay grouped together with their long pipes, talking over the pleasant hopes of the morrow, or uttering the scornful taunt on the coward folly of their infatuated allies. The song and the keen joke of their distant country occupied the first hours of the evening, and then the greater portion sank to rest upon the green sward.
But the slumbers of many were of a disturbed and fitful nature; and at midnight old Kásim Ali, whose advice, though ungraciously given, was generally attended to, repaired to the light pall under which reposed his leader. Osmán was still awake, and after listening to the words of the veteran, who predicted coming evil, the first orders were given. Guards having collected under arms, matches were lit, and some preparation attempted for defence. But the warning voice had come too late. The Mudaïto host, crouching warily upon the ground, had glided like serpents along the dark plain till they had gained the requisite distance for the onset; and as if starting from the very bowels of the earth, a countless array showed suddenly a bristling front, not one hundred yards from the encampment.
Short was the time allowed to awaken the drowsy soldiery. A hurried exclamation from the chief to stand like men, and a feeble cry from his followers in reply, was succeeded by the rush of the savages. Forward they came, carrying their broad spears erect, whilst their black ferocious eyes gleamed at the thoughts of blood, like the fiery orbs of the basilisk. A volley from the matchlocks only checked their progress for a moment; and as the firing ceased, there arose to heaven a wild unearthly yell, which was closely followed by the fierce shouts of men in contention, and by all the sounds of terror, confusion, and despair.
No walls or enclosures were there in that naked plain, or the sons of Ishmaël, who well understand their defence, might have fought on more equal terms; but overwhelmed by masses of the reckless foe, and hemmed in on every side by ten times their own number, the struggle was but the effort of individual desperation. Dropping shots had continued for some time in all quarters of the straggling encampment, and Mudaïto spear still clashed heavily upon Arab scimitar, when the war-cry of the Wóema rose pealing among the cliffs. As the tramp of their footsteps was heard descending to the plain, a short respite was allowed. The assailants withdrew from the murderous onslaught, and the fainting hearts of the survivors again bounded with hopes of life. But transient indeed were their expectations of succour and assistance. The wary eye of the Wóema had scanned, even in that uncertain light, the overpowering masses of the foe that crowded the plain; and suddenly wheeling round the shoulder of the hill, they disappeared like a wreath of the morning mist.
The Mudaïto meanwhile, like hungry wolves, hemming in the devoted party, awaited only the dawn of day to complete its destruction. But the remnant of the Arabs who had escaped now first found leisure to close their ranks; and, taking up a position at the foot of the isolated Jebel Gúrmah, they resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Osmán, wounded and bleeding, was still alive; himself, with Kásim Ali and about fifty men, being all that survived of the gallant five hundred who had marched from Zeyla. The excruciating pangs of thirst were added to the tortures of creese and spear-wound: and in this, their last extremity, the solemn prayer arose to the Prophet of the Faithful, as of men whose hours were numbered.
As the day broke, Kásim volunteered to carry a message of capitulation to the savage army; and reposing full confidence in the white cloth waving in the hand of the veteran, each anxious eye was strained in the direction of his footsteps. Received in moody silence by the Mudaïto band, a ferocious savage was about to drive a spear-blade through his unflinching breast, when the son of the Sheikh bounded suddenly to his side, and warding off the descending shaft, seized the hand of the old man, kissed it with every reverence, and addressed a few words to the tribe. In days gone by the youth Boorhán had been saved under the creese by the son of Yemen, and gratitude, rarely found in the savage, now paid her outstanding debt.
The veteran’s overtures of surrender having been received, he turned again towards his comrades, but a fearful sight fell on his sickening gaze. Two large bodies of the enemy had in the interim stolen round the hill, and clustering upon the very edge, were already swarming unseen to the last attack. Vain were his frantic gestures to direct the attention of his doomed comrades to the coming storm; he was seized and pinioned in the iron grasp of a multitude, and the succeeding rush was as the burst of the overcharged thunder-cloud.
And feeble was the defence made by men weary, and thirsty, and unprepared. With an appalling whoop, the triumphant savages soon joined the ranks of their sheïkh, and not one turbaned head remained visible above the wide plain. All had found a gory pillow in a far distant land. Creese and matchlock, mingled together, plentifully strewed the ground; and clutched in the cold hand of each grim warrior, lay the long Arab sword, dripping to the hilt in the blood of the assailant.
The acacia still throws her scanty shade over the bones that whiten on the scene of this conflict. Although of the same persuasion as the invaders, the men of Aussa could neither forgive their most unprovoked attack, nor consign to a quiet resting-place the remains of the true believers. The severe loss they too had sustained, still keeps the wound festering, for well indeed in that fatal night had been upheld the character of the sturdy children of Yemen. Taken by surprise and at every disadvantage, each had fought on fiercely to the last; and although broken matchlocks and rent shields dangle in the mosques as trophies of their defeat, many a Mudaïto mother long bewailed the loss of a beloved son, and many a bereaved widow mourned the absence of her liege lord, who returned not from the valley of the deep waters of Aussa.