The Turkish government is represented in Souakin by a custom house officer, who lives on the island, and who bears the title of Aga. He commands the town, but his influence is greatly circumscribed by the power of the Hadherebe; it is at present even insignificant, and before the conquest of Arabia by Mohammed Aly it must have been held in great contempt. The Pasha of Djidda is also Waly (والي) or governor of Souakin, and has therefore the right to send a representative here; a right which has never been disputed by the Souakinese, although they preserve the tradition that Souakin, before it was annexed to Djidda, had its own Pasha, sent from Constantinople. The Aga has no other means of maintaining the little authority he possesses, than by living on good terms with the Emir, whom he either permits, or aids to extort sums from weak individuals in the Geyf, in order that he may receive the Emir’s assistance in the collection of the customs on the island. During late years the Aga has farmed the customs of the maritime commerce of Souakin, and has paid annually into the treasury at Djidda three thousand two hundred dollars for this privilege; it is supposed that he gains two or three thousand dollars a year by it, and that this sum might be doubled if the customs were strictly paid; but very little can ever be obtained from the Hadherebe, who are the richest individuals. The customs are levied upon all merchandize imported, principally India goods and spices destined for the Soudan markets, and upon all the imports from Soudan which are shipped at Djidda for other countries, consisting chiefly of slaves, horses, and tobacco; two dollars are paid on every slave, and three on every horse. Dhourra passes duty free, as do the articles which remain in Souakin.

The Aga is either re-appointed, or a new one sent, annually. The present Aga is a man of the name of Yemak (يمك), a native of Djidda, whose father was a Hadji from Mosul, settled in the Hedjaz. In the time of the Sherif, Yemak was the buffoon of the court, and a broker in the market of Djidda. When Mohammed Aly arrived, he ingratiated himself with the Osmanlis by means of his scanty knowledge of their language, and after having served the Turks as a mediator with, and spy upon the Sherif, he was appointed to his present situation. He is a man of the meanest disposition, and has rendered himself ridiculous by affecting to adopt the Osmanli customs in such a place as Souakin; the titles of Khaznadar, Selehdar, Kahwedji Bashy, Bash Keteb, &c. which are those of a Pasha’s officers of treasurer, sword-bearer, cup-bearer, chief secretary, &c.; are bestowed by him upon his miserable servants; young slaves wait on him, in imitation of Mamelouk boys, and he talks with as much consequence as a Pasha of three tails, intermixing his broad vulgar Arabic dialect with a few Turkish expressions. The Aga has five or six soldiers of the mercenaries of Yemen, such as are found in the service of the Sherif of Mekka and of all the chiefs of Arabia; they are paid by the Aga out of his own revenues; and they form the only garrison of Souakin, whence it may easily be conceived that the Turkish authority is little respected here. These soldiers hardly dare stir out of the island, for fear of being insulted; and the Aga himself, for obvious reasons, never enters the Geyf. When any disputes happen, the Hadherebe generally interfere, and the Aga is obliged to waive his authority. The Bedouins pay only half the customs levied upon other traders; and I have often heard them plainly tell the Aga that they had no money to pay more. The soldiers who, during the night, are put into the ships anchored under the Aga’s windows to watch for smugglers, frequently get a beating or a ducking: even the Aga is insulted in his own house; yet he bears it all with complacency, and tells the people that if he were not so much their friend, he would write thundering letters to the Pasha, and draw a terrible storm upon their heads. When the Bedouin who has insulted him is gone, he curses him behind his back in Turkish, and vents his rage upon his own servants: he one day said to me, when a Bedouin, who in the heat of dispute had called him a liar (انت كذاب), had just left the room, “You see me put up with these people; but they will at last learn to know the resentment of the Turkish government, for the vengeance of the Turks when once exerted is terrible. I continue to ward off the arm of vengeance from them, because if the Pasha were to send an expedition, the whole place would be ruined, and many innocent individuals would perish.” In fact, were it not for their secret apprehensions of such an expedition from Djidda, which might with the greatest ease suddenly fall upon them and destroy both towns, this people would, no doubt, throw off all submission, and publicly assert their independence. But the smallest brig of war might compel the place to surrender. About twenty or thirty years since a Pasha of Djidda sent hither a corps of about two hundred soldiers, who plundered the Geyf; they were afterwards besieged for some time by the Bedouins, in the governor’s house, and adjoining buildings, but they contrived at last to get off with their booty. The Wahabi, after the conquest of Mekka, sent two commissioners to Souakin, to exhort the people to embrace the doctrines of their chief; but they were not permitted to proceed to Geyf, and were obliged soon to re-embark. During the power of the Wahabi the people of Souakin were allowed to trade with Djidda; but Saoud, the Wahabi chief, who had seen several of them at Mekka, with their bushy hair white with grease, obliged them to cover their heads with a handkerchief, like the Arabian Bedouins.

The Hadherebe, and the Bedouins of Souakin, have exactly the same features, language, and dress, as the Nubian Bedouins. They are clothed chiefly in the Dammour imported from Sennaar; but the better classes of both sexes wear the Nubian shirt, made of Indian cambric; they have, however, one dress, which is seldom seen in other parts of Nubia; it consists of a long piece of cambric, one end of which is wrapped round the loins, while the other, thrown across the breast and left shoulder, hangs loosely down over the back, leaving the legs, and the greater part of the upper body, entirely naked: this is the favourite negligé of the Hadherebe; and if to it be added a handsome pair of sandals, three or four large amulets hanging over the left elbow, like those worn in the countries on the Nile, a sword and Korbadj in the hands, the thick and bushy hair white with grease, and a long wooden skewer sticking in it, to scratch the head with, the whole will afford a tolerable picture of a Souakin Bedouin. In general they have handsome and expressive features, with thin and very short beards. Their colour is of the darkest brown, approaching to black, but they have nothing of the Negroe character of countenance. They are a remarkably stout and muscular race.

The inhabitants of Souakin have no other pursuit than that of commerce, either by sea, or with Soudan. They export the commodities which they receive from the African continent, to all the harbours of the Hedjaz and Yemen, down to Mokha, but chiefly to Djidda and Hodeyda. In Djidda they have a quarter of the town allotted exclusively to themselves, where they live in huts made of rushes, like those of El Geyf. Many of the Hadherebe Bedouins, after visiting Sennaar, perform the journey to the Arabian coast, but others sell their African merchandize to the traders in Souakin, by whom they are exported to Arabia. Besides the articles of trade from Shendy and Sennaar; namely, slaves, gold, tobacco, incense, and ostrich feathers, no ship leaves Souakin for any part of the Arabian coast, without having its hold filled with Dhourra from Taka; and they furnish nearly the whole of the Hedjaz with water-skins, leathern sacks, and leather in hides; the water-skins are bought up in the five principal towns of the Hedjaz, as well as in the open country; the sacks are bought by the Bedouins only, who use them to carry their provisions in. These articles form a very profitable branch of trade, for as cattle in general is very scarce in the Hedjaz, from the want of pasturage, and as great numbers of water-skins are wanted for the pilgrims to Mekka, the skin sowed up is worth as much at Djidda as the sheep is worth at Souakin. They are also exported, but in smaller quantities, to the Yemen; and I have seen them in the market of Suez; they are preferred to all other water-skins, on account of the well-tanned leather and the excellence of the sewing. The hides are tanned as in Upper Egypt, and along the Nile with the pulse of the acacia, which I have frequently had occasion to mention (الجلود مدبوغين بالقَرَض El djeloud madboughin b’el karad.) All the Bedouins in the vicinity of Souakin, sell their hides in the market there, and take Dhourra in return. The leather and cow-hides which are exported to Djidda, are used in Arabia to make sandals; but the best hides imported into the Hedjaz come from Massouah. Souakin also exports butter[70] to Djidda. During the Hadj, both Mekka and Djidda principally depend upon Souakin and Massouah for this article; its consumption is very great in those places, where it is used by all ranks, and where the poorest man will expend half his daily income in order to have plenty of butter to his dinner, and that he may drink at least a quarter of a pound of it every morning for his breakfast. While I resided at Djidda butter rose to one half above its usual price, because two ships loaded with it from Massouah had sold their cargoes in the Yemen, instead of proceeding to Djidda. Mats made of Doum-leaves, of which every ship takes a quantity; they are in general use throughout the Hedjaz and Yemen, where Doum trees are scarce, and where few people condescend to earn a livelihood by manual labour. The floors of the mosques at Mekka and Medina are covered with these mats, which are renewed almost annually by the donations of the pilgrims; and few Hadjis quit Mekka without taking with them a very small neatly made Souakin mat, in the shape of a carpet, for the purpose of kneeling upon when they pray. The mats are manufactured by the Bedouins in the mountains near Souakin. A small shell-fish, very common on the African coast, is also exported to Djidda. It is eaten chiefly by children and poor people; it is called Sorúmbak (سُرُمباق), and is supposed, from its astringent properties, to be a remedy for the dysentery. Dhourra, water-skins, and mats are exported also to Hodeyda, in the Yemen, which is the principal market for the horses brought by the Souakin merchants from the Nile countries. I have already mentioned that the Sherif of Yemen eagerly purchases African stallions to remount his cavalry; a horse worth about twenty-five dollars at Shendy, is sold at Hodeyda at one hundred or one hundred and fifty; but the risks are great, and many of the horses die during the passage from want of proper care on board the small country ships. Dromedaries of the Bisharye race, which is the finest in existence, are put on board the larger ships, and carried to Djidda. If they arrive safe, they are sold at from sixty to eighty dollars each, or about eight times the sum paid for them at Souakin; but half at least of those embarked die on the passage; the freight for each is ten dollars.

At Djidda the Souakin merchants purchase all the Indian goods wanted for the African markets, together with those articles of luxury which are in demand in Souakin; such as dresses and ornaments for the women, household utensils, and several kinds of provision for the table, such as Indian sugar, coffee beans, onions, and particularly dates, which are not produced in any part of Eastern Nubia. A good deal of iron is likewise imported from Djidda, for lances and knives; they are manufactured by common smiths, who are the only artisans I saw in Souakin, except masons and carpenters, and who furnish these weapons to all the Bedouins in a circuit of fifteen days journey.

Few foreign vessels, as I was informed, ever enter the harbour of Souakin except from stress of weather. The trade by sea is carried on principally with ships belonging to people of Souakin and Djidda, who are almost entirely occupied in sailing between the two coasts. No week passes without some vessel arriving from Djidda, or sailing for that port. During my stay only one ship sailed for Hodeyda, and another for Mokha, and nine for Djidda; the ship for Mokha was laden with a considerable part of the slaves who had come with us in the caravan from Shendy, for natives of Souakin are settled in most of the towns of the Yemen, where they act as agents for their countrymen. One ship arrived from Djidda, and a small boat from Loheya; there were besides four or five vessels in the harbour, bound for the Arabian coast. These ships are often manned by Bedouins, who are as expert in handling the rigging, as they are in tying the ropes of their camels loads; but the greater part of the sailors are Somaulys from the African coast lying between Abyssinia and Cape Guardafui, and who are the most active mariners in the Red Sea. The pilot is usually a man from Djidda or Yemen. The people of Souakin are active fishermen, and have a dozen small fishing boats constantly at sea. Fish is always found in the market, but very few Bedouins will touch it. Pearls are sometimes found in the neighbourhood by the fishermen. Souakin, upon the whole, may be considered as one of the first slave-trade markets in Eastern Africa; it imports annually from Shendy and Sennaar from two to three thousand slaves, equalling nearly in this respect Esne and Siout in Egypt, and Massouah in Abyssinia, where, as I afterwards learnt at Djidda, there is an annual transit from the interior of about three thousand five hundred slaves. From these four points, from the southern harbours of Abyssinia, and from the Somauly and Mozambik coast, it may be computed that Egypt and Arabia draw an annual supply of fifteen or twenty thousand slaves brought from the interior of Africa.

The market of Souakin is held in the Geyf, in an open space surrounded by huts, where almost the same articles are exposed for sale as at Shendy. All the surrounding Bedouins take from hence their supplies of Dhourra and Dammour, in exchange for hides; the selling of Dhourra to the northern Bedouins is very advantageous to the Hadherebe and Hadendoa, who have an exclusive intercourse with Taka. At the market of El Geyf I saw for the first time after four months, Dhourra loaves for sale; these with butter form the only food of the poor classes in the town. In all small concerns, the currency is Dhourra, which is measured by handfuls or with the same sized Moud as at Shendy: for greater bargains dollars are used. Neither the piastre, nor the para, nor the gold coins of Turkey are taken: but they have old paras cut into four parts, which are paid for articles of little value. Sales to a large amount are paid by Wokye, or the ounce of gold, which has its fixed value in dollars.

The manners of the people of Souakin are the same as those I have already described in the interior, and I have reason to believe that they are common to the whole of Eastern Africa, including Abyssinia, where the character of the inhabitants, as drawn by Bruce, seems little different from that of these Nubians. I regret that I am compelled to represent all the nations of Africa which I have yet seen, in so bad a light. Had I viewed them superficially I might have been scrupulous in giving so decided an opinion, but having travelled in a manner which afforded me an intimate acquaintance with them, I must express my conviction that they are all tainted more or less deeply with ill faith, avarice, drunkenness, and debauchery. The people of Souakin partake of these vices with their neighbours of the desert, and in cruelty surpass them. My not being ill treated by the Souakin merchants in the caravan must not be adduced as a proof of their kindness of disposition. The secret fears of the Turks, which the entrance of Mohammed Aly into the Hedjaz had generally inspired, together with the apprehension of being brought to an account, if it should be known at Souakin and Djidda, that an Osmanly[71] had been ill-treated by them, were probably a powerful protection to me, although not a motive sufficient to induce them to shew me the smallest kindness on the route. I do not recollect a single instance of their condescending to assist me in loading my camel, or filling my water skin, of interpreting for me, or of rendering me any of those little services which travellers are in the habit of interchanging: on the contrary, they obliged me, on different occasions, to furnish them with provisions and water; and in the evening their slaves were often sent to me to ask for a part of my supper for their masters, or to demand permission for the slave to eat with mine, under pretence that he had not had time to cook his supper. The intimacy of the people of Souakin with the Nubian Bedouins, and the unsettled state of their own government, have been the principal causes of their degenerating from the character of their Arabian ancestors. They have every where on the coast of the Red Sea, the character of avarice and ingratitude, or, to use the expression of an Arab of Yembo: “Though you give them water from the holy well of Zemzem to drink when they are thirsty, yet they will suffer you to choke with thirst even when their own wells are full” (حَتَّي اذا سقينهم من مأ زمزم فليخّلوك تموت من الظما و لو كان بير هم مليان); and this character is confirmed by the testimony of all those who have had an opportunity of observing them in their houses. At Souakin, the law of the strongest alone is respected, and it is impossible to carry on business without purchasing the protection of some powerful Hadherebe. Every day some bloody quarrel takes place among them. Their bodies, principally their backs, are covered with scars; and a man, far from being reproached as a murderer, prides himself in the number of persons he has slain in private quarrels, and the sums he has paid as the price of blood. Three or four years ago a slave belonging to one of the chiefs of the Hadherebe spread terror through the whole town. He was superior to every body in strength, as well as in courage and enterprise; and after committing the most horrible crimes, and murdering upwards of twenty persons, he quitted his master, who through fear still continued to protect him. He was at last killed by a youth, whose mother he had attempted to ravish. While I was sitting one day with the Aga, a poor sailor entered with a fresh sword-wound in his side, begging the Aga to protect him from a Hadherebe, who was attempting his life. The Aga advised him to make up the matter amicably, and gave him two measures of Dhourra to console him. Hospitality is as little known here as at Taka. Bouza huts and public women are as common as in any part of Nubia; but I do not believe that any Hadherebe woman dares openly to prostitute herself. The druggists shops in the market are kept exclusively by public women, who are Abyssinian slaves restored by their masters to liberty. All the women in El Geyf go unveiled; those who reside on the island are veiled, and clothed like the women of Arabia.

There is one coffee-house on the island, where all matters of importance are settled among the towns-people and the Hadherebe. The coffee is paid for in Dhourra. The communication between the Geyf and the island is by rafts; a handful of Dhourra is paid to the man who manages the raft; but even this trifling fare the Souakin people are seldom willing to pay; they strip, and fastening their cloak, sandals, and sword upon their head, they swim across the channel, in the same manner as the Egyptians cross the Nile. They are the most expert swimmers I ever saw, and are particularly skilful in keeping the body, as high as the top of the shoulder, in an upright posture in the water, while they work their way with their lower extremities, as if they were walking on firm ground, and almost as fast.[72]

The Bisharye language is generally spoken at Souakin; the Arabic, though understood by every one in the Geyf, is spoken there with a bad accent, but the inhabitants of the town speak it as their native language, and with the Djidda pronunciation. Among the neighbouring Hadendoas, who bring butter and sheep to the market of El Geyf, I saw many individuals entirely ignorant of Arabic.

The people on the island have a Kadhi, a Mufti, a public school, and two or three persons belonging to the corps of Olemas. The chief and richest man amongst them had filled the office of Aga during the time of the Sherif; he was now at the head of an opposition against the actual Aga, who was of Mohammed Aly’s appointment, and whose official acts his opponent had sufficient cause to censure. Before I left Souakin the Kadhi secretly called me to his house, and gave me a letter, which he entreated me to carry to the Hedjaz, and to deliver into Mohammed Aly’s own hands; it contained a statement of complaints against Yemak, and the Hadherebe; wherein the latter were described as rebels, and as having proved themselves to be such by not permitting the coin of Mohammed Aly and the piastres of Cairo to pass current in the place, and by not attending the Friday’s devotions, when public prayers were added for the Sultan and the Pasha. The complaints against Yemak were, that he made the Turkish name ridiculous, that he stood in too much fear of the Bedouins, and that he disgraced his office by his unnatural propensities.[73] The letter was altogether a curious composition; the most ridiculous titles were given in it to the Pasha; among others, he was styled Asad el barr wa fil el bahr (اسد البرّ و فيل البحر), the lion of the earth and the elephant of the sea. It was signed and sealed by a dozen supplicants; and although I did not deliver it myself in the Hedjaz, I took care that it was duly forwarded to the Pasha.

The inhabitants of Souakin use very few fire-arms, and few individuals in the Geyf dare fire a gun. They carry the same weapons as the Nubians, a sword, a lance, a target, and a knife. About a dozen horses are kept in the town; in war, the bravest men mount upon dromedaries and surprise the enemy. Almost every house in the Geyf possesses a dromedary. The Bedouins of the Geyf are as indifferent about religion as those of the desert; very few of them would be found, upon inquiry, to know how to pray in the Mohammedan form; and I was told that even the fast of Ramadhan is little attended to. In the town the inhabitants are as strict in their religious duties as sea-faring people usually are.

I calculate the whole population of Souakin at about eight thousand souls, of whom three thousand live upon the island, and the rest in the Geyf.

The cattle of the Souakin Bedouins are extremely numerous; they are kept in the neighbourhood only during the months immediately following the rainy season, when the surrounding plains produce some pasture; during the rest of the year they are pastured, under the care of shepherds, in the encampments of the Hadendoa, in the mountains of Dyaab, or Langay. An active and daily intercourse is kept up between the town and all these neighbouring Bedouins.

About three hours from Souakin is a Wady, in the mountain of Dyaab; it is watered by a rivulet, and is full of date trees, which are all of the male species, and produce no fruit: a few Hadendoa live there at present. A report is current at Souakin, that when that place was the residence of a Pasha, a town stood in this Wady, which was much frequented by the Souakin people, and where the Pasha himself passed a part of the hot season, in cool retirement.

Some of the Hadendoa inhabitants of the Geyf cultivate, after the rains, a fertile plain called Tokar, situated about two days south of the town, and not far from the sea; it is spacious, fertile, surrounded by mountains, and watered by torrents; but its produce bears a very small proportion to the consumption of the town.

About five hours north of Souakin, the chain of the Dyaab, already mentioned, advances considerably towards the sea; and the projecting part forms the northern boundary of the territories of the Bedouins Hadendoa; beyond it begins the tribe of Amarer, an independent nation, unconnected with any of the former, whose encampments are met with on the whole of the coast as far as the island called Djebel Mekowar. These Amarer are friendly to the Hadendoa, but upon bad terms with the Bisharein; though it is said that they are descended from the same progenitors.

Upon enquiry whether the road along the coast to Massouah was ever followed, I was told that nobody attempts it, and that the only communication southwards is through Taka. From Souakin to Assouan is said to be from twenty to twenty-four days journey, but the road is not frequented. Last year, when the robber Naym interrupted the regular route between Shendy and Upper Egypt, some enterprising Souakin merchants planned a journey to Egypt, through the country of the Bisharein, expecting to get a good price for their camels, slaves, and various articles of Indian produce. Although at war with the Bisharein, they procured a couple of guides of that nation, to ensure their safety, and to point out the roads, and they settled at the same time the passage duties that were to be paid to the Bisharye chiefs. In Arabia traders travel safely in this manner through the territories of hostile tribes, who dare not molest them, when accompanied by some of their own people. But the Africans are less scrupulous: at about half-way, the whole of the Souakin caravan was completely destroyed, and not a single individual escaped. It is not likely, therefore, that this route will ever be again attempted. The Hadherebe have no intercourse whatever at present with those Bisharye tribes who people the desert to the east of the Amarer and Hadendoa, and northward of the former as high as the territories of the Ababde. The Amarer and Hadendoa, although at war with the Bisharein, do not cherish the same deadly hatred towards them as towards the Hadherebe, and some little traffic is carried on between them. The Amarer buy at Souakin their Dhourra, Dammour, and tobacco, which they barter with the Bisharein for cattle and hides. The principal settlement of the latter appears to be Olba (عُلبَه), a high mountain close to the sea, with a small harbour, at about ten or twelve days from Souakin, and about fifteen days from Daraou in Upper Egypt. Their principal chiefs encamp in the valleys of this mountain, which is said to be extremely rich in pasturage, and to be always inhabited by several powerful tribes. Its name is well known in Upper Egypt, and the Bedouins Ababde often repair thither with Dhourra, and cotton stuffs of Egyptian manufacture. It is also visited by the chiefs of the Ababde, for the purpose of collecting a certain tribute paid to them by these mountaineers for the permission of pasturing their cattle in the rainy season in that part of the northern Nubian mountains which the Ababde claim as their own patrimony; but as the two tribes are often at war, the tribute is not regularly paid.

I was told repeatedly, both in Upper Egypt and at Souakin, that in the rocks near the shore in the vicinity of Djebel Olba there are excavated habitations, which appear to have been the work of the infidels. According to the testimony of several sea-faring people, Olba is the only tolerable harbour on the African coast, between Kosseir and Souakin. The Bisharein have a regular market there, which is supplied from Upper Egypt, Berber, and indirectly from Souakin. Sometimes, but very rarely, small boats arrive there from Arabia for hides and butter; but masters of vessels are afraid of the treachery of the Bisharein, and are seldom willing to encounter this hazard, in addition to that of the voyage, although it affords the chance of great profits. It is said that camels are very numerous there, and that the Bisharein live almost entirely on their milk and flesh. They cultivate no part of their valleys, though rivulets are said to be met with in several of them; Dhourra is in consequence dear, being all carried to them from a great distance; the quantity which costs two dollars in Upper Egypt will purchase a fine camel at Olba. It would be highly gratifying to visit this harbour, which I suspect has remained unknown to all modern travellers and navigators, and which, if examined, might perhaps at once settle the disputed points in the geography of this coast.[74]

When we arrived, on the morning of the 26th of June, in the neighbourhood of the Geyf, I expected that we should immediately enter the place; but this was not the established custom. The Souakin merchants repaired to their homes, while the party of foreign traders alighted at about twenty minutes walk from the town, near the wells which supply it with water; and where we found a great number of Negroe Hadjis, who had been waiting several weeks for a conveyance to Djidda. As we were to remain here till our affairs should be settled with the chief of Souakin, who levies duties on all the caravans, every one formed a small tent by means of a few poles, over which we tied mats. The brother of the chief paid us a visit in the afternoon; and the next day the Emir himself came. We paid him half a dollar for each slave, which is the regular imposition. As the black merchants had some loads with them for which no regular duty is fixed, and were suspected also to have gold in their sacks, it was amicably agreed that the Emir, who was an old acquaintance of theirs, should take two of their camels. The chief of the caravan takes besides, from every merchant who is not a Hadherebe, one dollar. With respect to myself, my camel had become so famous in the caravan for his strength and agility, that the Emir wished to make it his own; he told me that all camels brought from Soudan by foreign traders belonged to him by right, and therefore insisted upon taking mine. As I had calculated upon selling it here to defray my passage to Djidda, and felt confident that no such law existed, I refused to comply with the chief’s demand and insisted upon having our differences referred to the Turkish custom-house officer. I was now in a place where I thought I might turn to account the Firmaan I had received from Ibrahim Pasha, as well as an old one given me by his father Mohammed Aly, when I left Cairo eighteen months ago, and before the latter had gone to the Hedjaz. Yet as I was not quite sure of the dispositions of these Bedouins and their obedience to the Pasha’s authority, I said nothing of the Firmaans, but demanded to be carried before the Aga, to whose commands I declared I should immediately comply, if he ordered me to deliver up the camel. The Emir from the first day of our arrival had interdicted me from passing over to the island; he now thought he might concert his measures with the Aga himself to strip such an unprotected person as I appeared to be: he acquainted the Aga with my arrival, and soon after carried me himself to the Aga’s house on the island. When we entered, the Aga was sitting listening to some sailors; I made him a low bow, when he addressed me in the Turkish language in such phrases as would be used in speaking to servants. Finding that I did not answer him in the same idiom, he exclaimed in Arabic, “Look at that scoundrel! he comes from his brethren the Mamelouks at Dóngola, and pretends not to know any thing of Turkish.” It was true indeed, that in my face and beard I resembled more a Mamelouk than any other eastern native; but every person in the caravan knew that I had come from Egypt to Shendy, and that I did not belong to the Mamelouks. Dóngola being only from ten to sixteen days distant from Souakin some apprehensions had long been entertained lest the Mamelouks should endeavour to effect their retreat to this harbour, and attempt to join the Wahabi in Arabia against their common enemy, Mohammed Aly Pasha. Hassan Djouhar (حسن جوهر كاشف), one of their Kashefs, had passed through Souakin in his way to Mekka, in 1812, while Sherif Ghalib was master of Djidda, and it was well known that he had had several conferences with Saoud, the Wahabi chief. The Aga therefore thought, by pretending to consider me either as a Mamelouk spy, or refugee, though he must have been convinced that I was neither, and by apprehending me as such, he might seize my property with impunity, and also merit the thanks of his superiors at Djidda, for his vigilance. I coolly told him that I had come to him for the purpose of knowing from his own mouth, whether the Emir was entitled to my camel. “Not only thy camel,” he replied, “but the whole of thy baggage must be taken and searched. We shall render a good account of them to the Pasha, depend upon it; for you shall not impose upon us, you rascal, and you may be thankful if we do not cut off your head.”[75] I protested that I was nothing but an unfortunate merchant, and begged that he would not add to the sufferings I had already experienced. It was my wish, for obvious reasons, to pacify him, if possible, without shewing my Firmaans, but Yemak soon obliged me to give up this idea; he began cursing and swearing in Turkish, and then calling an old cripple, to whom he had given the title of Waly, or police-officer, he ordered him to tie my hands, to put me in prison, and to bring my slave and baggage into his presence. I now thought it high time to produce my Firmaans, which I drew from a secret pocket in my Thabout; one of them was written in Turkish, upon a piece of paper two feet and a half in length, and one foot in breadth, and was sealed with the great seal of Mohammed Aly; the other, a smaller one, was written in Arabic, and bore the seal of Ibrahim Pasha, his son, in which Ibrahim termed me “our man, Ibrahim, the Syrian” (رجلنا ابرهيم الشامي, Radjilna Ibrahim es-Shamy.)

When Yemak saw the Firmaans unfolded, he became completely stupified and the persons present looked at me with amazement. The Aga could read the Arabic only, but he kissed them both, put them to his forehead, and then protested to me, in the most submissive terms, that it was the good of the public service alone, that had led him to treat me as he had done, and for which he begged me a thousand pardons. Nothing more was said about the Emir’s right to my camel, and he declared that I should pay no duty for my slave, though he was entitled to it. He very naturally asked me the cause of my appearance; for by this time my dress, which had not been very splendid when I set out on my journey, was literally in rags. I replied that Mohammed Aly Pasha had sent me as a spy upon the Mamelouks, and to enquire into the state of the Negroe countries, and that I had assumed the garb of a beggar, in order to pass unmolested. Yemak now began to consider me a great personage, and the natural consequence was, that he became afraid of me, and of the reports I might hereafter make to the Pasha concerning his conduct and his government in Souakin. His behaviour became most servile; and he offered me a slave girl, and a new dress of his own, as a present, both of which I refused. During my stay at Souakin, I repaired daily to his house to partake of a good dinner, of which I stood in great need, and to indulge myself in smoaking Yemak’s Persian pipe. The people of the town laughed at seeing this man’s pride humbled by the attentions he thought it incumbent on him to shew to a beggar like me. My object was to find protection in his company, to recruit my strength by his good fare, and to save expense, for by this time I had only two dollars in my purse.

Among the persons whom I frequently met at Yemak’s table was a Sherif, who during the reign of the Sherif Ghalib had been his officer of customs and Aga at Massouah, in which he had at first been confirmed by Mohammed Aly Pasha; but was soon after dismissed on account of several fraudulent transactions, and had taken refuge at Souakin. This man had known Mr. Salt during his second visit to Abyssinia, and he told me that his master Ghalib had given him strict orders to prevent, by every means in his power, any Franks, and English especially, from entering Abyssinia. As he had no knowledge who I really was, I had not the smallest reason for doubting what he said. Lord Valentia’s short stay at Souakin was remembered, and often spoken of as a singular event.

I continued during the whole of my stay here to live with the Black merchants outside the Geyf, notwithstanding the pressing invitations of the Aga to take up my abode in his house. I assisted them in smuggling several of their slaves into the town, a service which they repaid by ordering their slaves to prepare some dried meat for my voyage across the Red Sea. We lived surrounded by several hundred Tekaýrne, who were waiting for a passage, and who in the mean while earned their livelihood partly by acting as porters (for the Souakin people are too proud to act as such), and partly in making earthen pots for the kitchens of the town. I sold my camel for four dollars only, for the Shikh of the Hadherebe having declared that he wished to buy him, no other purchaser ventured to offer, and he was thus enabled to fix his own price. Worn down as it was with fatigue, it was still worth double that sum, for camels are of much the same value here, as on the Nile countries of Soudan. My camel had sometimes carried not only my baggage and water, but also myself and slave, at times when we were both over-fatigued. In general I permitted the boy to ride four or five hours in the early part of the day, and then succeeded him myself for the remainder. The Souakin merchants were astonished at my condescension, in which, I must confess, that although humanity had some share, self-interest had still more; for I knew that if the slave had been exhausted by fatigue, I should probably have soon shared his fate. During my stay at Souakin the hottest and most violent Simoum occurred that I ever remember to have experienced. The whole atmosphere appeared to be in a blaze, and we escaped with some difficulty from being suffocated by the clouds of sand that were blown about in every direction.

A small ship, one of those called Say in the Red Sea, had begun to load, and I informed the Aga of my intention to take my passage on board of it. At any other time, and under other circumstances, I should probably have gone from hence to Mokha; for previous to my leaving Cairo, Colonel Missett, his Britannic Majesty’s Resident in Egypt, among numberless kindnesses towards me, had done me the favour to write to the East India Company’s agent at Mokha, apprising him that a traveller of my description might perhaps arrive there from the opposite coast, and desiring him to furnish me with money for my future travelling expenses. It had been for some time a favourite project with me to visit the interior of the Yemen mountains, where the origin of most of the Bedouin tribes of Arabia is to be found, and where their ancient manners are said to subsist in all their original purity. In departing therefore from Upper Egypt I had intended to proceed from Massouah or Souakin, whichever of the two places I should reach, to Mokha, and from thence to Sana, the capital of the Yemen, where I might hope to join the Yemen pilgrims in their annual route over the mountains to Mekka. The performance of this journey would have been of considerable advantage to Arabian geography, and it might, perhaps, have led to interesting facts respecting Arabian history. But the information I collected at Souakin respecting the war in the Hedjaz soon made me abandon this project; the head quarters of Mohammed Aly were then at Tayf, and his advanced corps was several days journey to the south of that place, in the very mountains where I should have passed, and where the greatest body of the Wahabi forces was collected. There was not the smallest chance of my passing through these fanatics, who would have certainly taken me for a Turkish spy, and sacrificed me to their vengeance.

The Aga ordered the master of the ship to give me a free passage, and to put on board some provisions for me, consisting of dates and sugar, the best articles of his own store-room. We embarked in the evening of the 6th of July. When I saw the great number of people assembled on board, I repented having taken my passage in this ship; but I soon understood that from this time till the month of the Hadj (November) every vessel that sailed from Souakin would be equally crowded with passengers. My old companions the Black merchants were too numerous including their slaves, to find room in this vessel, they therefore determined to wait till another opportunity; they arrived at Djidda about three weeks after me. Our ship, or rather boat, for it was not more than between thirty and forty feet long, and nine feet broad in the widest part, had only one sail, and was quite open, without either deck or awning. It had taken in Dhourra as ballast; the baskets[76] were covered with several layers of mats and hides, upon which one hundred and four persons, including the crew, were to be accommodated; of these fifty were Tekaýrne men and women, and fifty were slaves, belonging either to Black or to Souakin merchants, who were on board. During the night, about fifteen persons were sent on shore, to whom the Reis returned their fare, which they had paid in advance, but there were still eighty-nine persons in the ship when we sailed the next morning. The avidity of the masters in thus overloading their vessels often causes their ruin; about six months ago, two ships on their way from Djidda to Souakin, with a number of Negroe pilgrims on board, were wrecked on the coast at a short distance to the north of Souakin; a few lives only were saved, and the cargoes were entirely lost. No year passes without accidents of this sort happening; but the Arab sailor says—“Allah is great!”—and follows the practice of his predecessors.

PASSAGE FROM SOUAKIN TO DJIDDA.

July 7th.—We remained in port the whole of the morning, waiting for a supply of water. The Tekaýrne and their slaves pay one dollar a head for their passage; each of them has his water-skin suspended over the side of the vessel. Provisions of water for the master and crew, and for the Souakin merchants, for three days, are kept in a few large jars standing on the prow. The sailors and Souakin people dealt heavy blows among the blacks, who were fighting with each other for room in the vessel. We sailed in the evening, and anchored after midnight, at the mouth of the bay of Souakin, where a small ruined bastion or watch tower stands. Here the pilot who had brought us out of the channel left us, to return by land to El Geyf.

July 8th. We sailed after sun-rise, with a good wind; the course was northward along the coast, at the distance of four or five miles, amongst rocks and coral-reefs. At three o’clock P. M. we entered a very narrow creek, of dangerous access, called Dagoratag; the breadth, at the entrance, was hardly sufficient to allow a ship of any size to veer round, but the depth of water was considerable, except close in-shore. The beach is sandy and gravelly, with some trees and shrubs growing upon it. The Bedouin inhabitants, who are of the tribe of Amarer, soon ran down to demand their harbour dues, which consist of about one dollar’s worth of Dhourra, and must be paid by all ships touching at this harbour. They sold us at the same time, some milk. All these anchorages are called by the Arabs, Merasy (مراسي).

July 9th. We sailed after sunrise; it is the practice in all parts of the Red Sea to sail at this hour, and to anchor in a port in the afternoon; the mariners never depart from this custom till they are obliged to stand over to the opposite coast. The ignorance of the Arabians in navigation obliges them to proceed with great caution in this dangerous sea. Conscious of their want of skill, and of the insufficiency of their vessels, they avoid encountering an open sea or an adverse wind. The smaller ships have neither logs nor compasses on board, or if they have, never make much use of them. Our captain’s plan was to proceed along shore as far as Djebel Mekouar. This is the common route of the Souakin vessels during the prevalence of the northerly breezes, as the wind from thence is usually fair for stretching across to Djidda. Ships bound from Souakin to Mokha generally proceed southward along the African coast, anchoring in some port every evening, till they reach Massouah, from whence they cross over to the Arabian shore. In the northern part of the Red Sea, the vessels bound from Kosseir to Djidda cross over to the nearest point of the opposite coast, and then proceed along shore to Djidda. On the contrary, those from Djidda to Kosseir follow the coast as high as the latitude of Moyla, or Ras Mohammed, and cross from thence, by the help of the northerly winds. These coasting voyages are still more necessary to the Souakin slave vessels, because they are generally so full of passengers and slaves as to be obliged to take in a daily supply of water.

We had a fair westerly wind this morning. The Blacks were all sick, no person had room sufficient to stretch out his limbs, and we were confined the whole day in the same position, exposed to the heat of the sun; the sailors were obliged to walk over the passengers to do their work, and the whole vessel was a scene of confusion and quarrelling. In the course of the morning we passed the tomb of a Shikh named Berghout (شيخ برغوت), with a cupola over it, built upon the beach by Souakin sailors, who revere him as the protector of mariners. We saw a great number of dolphins, of the same size and shape as those seen on the coast of Egypt, near the mouths of the Nile; the sailors would not allow me to throw a lance at them; to wound one of them they think will be attended with disaster to the voyage. Soon after mid-day we anchored in the bay of Gayayá; we had sailed almost the whole morning among rocks just appearing above water. In sailing into the bay we ran ashore, an accident which often happens; the sailors are in the habit of entering these creeks in full sail; when at a certain distance from the beach, they suddenly furl the sail, and let the vessel run up to the anchorage; but they often mistake the distance, and as they have no anchor in these small vessels, she is aground before she can veer round. The moment the sail is lowered three or four men jump overboard, with ropes fastened to grappling-irons, which they make fast to some coral rock or tree on shore. The passengers go on shore every evening, and often pass the night there. As we had no boat, and the vessel could not always be brought close in shore, we were sometimes obliged to wade or swim to the beach.[77] The Negroes encamped every afternoon in the same manner as they had done when crossing the desert. This evening I observed the whole beach to be covered with shells, and in the water among the coral rocks were numberless fishes of various shapes and colours. I was shewn the shell of the Sorombak, the fish of which is eaten by the Arabs all along the coasts of the Red Sea, and particularly in this part. Among the calcined shells, I saw those of the lobster. A party of Amarer Bedouins came to the beach to sell water, sheep (three fat sheep for a dollar’s worth of Dhourra), shell-fish, boiled fish, and some hares,[78] and to receive the usual presents from the master of the vessel. These people were entirely ignorant of the Arabic language, and although we were in much greater numbers than themselves, they appeared to think very lightly of us, and behaved with little ceremony or civility. The bay of Gayayá is one of the best anchorages on this coast; even large ships might find shelter here in stress of weather.

July 10th. A good wind carried us before mid-day to the bay of Deroura, where we anchored, knowing that there is a copious well in the neighbourhood. We passed yesterday, as well as to-day, several other bays frequented by country ships. Every pilot (رُبّان Robban) knows their situation, but long practice is wanted not to mistake the entrance, which is always through a labyrinth of shoals. The Tekaýrne went and filled their water-skins at the well, and after their return the captain obliged them to go a second time, to bring a sufficient quantity for the ship’s company. These poor people were, on all occasions, extremely ill-treated, although not one of them owed his passage to the captain’s charity; the Souakin people and sailors cursed and beat them repeatedly in the course of the day, and obliged them to do the ship’s work, while they themselves sat at their ease smoaking their pipes: the water and provisions of the poor pilgrims were constantly pilfered by the crew, and they were crowded into as narrow a space as three persons would be in the seat of a carriage intended to carry but two. The ship’s company and the merchants had every morning and evening fresh Dhourra bread, baked in a small oven on the prow, while the Negroes, who were never allowed to make use of the oven, fasted the whole day, till they could cook their supper on shore. If any of them attempted to take out a leaf of his papers, or to read or write his prayers, some Souakiny was sure to throw water over him, and spoil his book. At Souakin the Tekaýrne, before they embark, are exposed to another inconvenience: instances having been known of black traders dressing their slaves like pilgrims in order to elude the duties levied upon them, the Aga has made it a pretext for exacting duties upon free-born pilgrims, by insisting that they are slaves in disguise, and thus taking two dollars from each, though they may be able to prove the contrary. For three or four months previous to the time of the Hadj Souakin is always full of Tekaýrne, and they would be much more numerous were it not for the ill treatment they meet with from the people of Souakin, and the dangers of the passage across the Red Sea; the dread of which, more than of the journey to the coast, discourages great numbers from coming.

July 11th. The wind was adverse, and we found ourselves greatly entangled among rocks. We passed a ruined castle, or large tower, situated two miles in-land. The Souakin people told me that it had been built by an ancient Pasha of Souakin, near a well, and that it was a halting-place on the road, once frequented, between Kosseir and Souakin. The former existence of such a route through the mountains of Nubia had already been mentioned to me by the people of Upper Egypt, and the Pasha of Souakin, it was said, always travelled by this route from Egypt to his government. The Souakin people farther informed me, that at every halting place a similar tower was found; but this they knew only by report, none of them having ever travelled the road.

In the mountains to the eastward of Daraou in Upper Egypt, three journeys from that village towards the Red Sea, is a plain with wells of sweet water, which is called Shikh Shadely (شيخ شادلي) from the tomb of a holy man, who is said to have died there, on the road from Kosseir to Souakin; which passes by the wells. The tomb is held in great veneration by the Egyptians; one of the Mamelouk Begs built a cupola over it, and people frequently make vows to visit the Shikh’s tomb, and there sacrifice a sheep in his honour. The surrounding valleys are full of trees; and according to the statements of my informants there are some remains of buildings, and caverns cut in the rocks. The mountain has long had the reputation of containing emeralds, and most of the Arabian geographers confirm the opinion by their writings. Mohammed Aly Pasha having been informed of the tradition, sent in 1812 a party of soldiers to Shikh Shadely, accompanied by a Greek jeweller of Cairo, who was supposed to understand something of precious stones. They carried several hundred peasants with them, and after digging in the rocky ground, and in the plain near the tomb, in a place were a Mamelouk Beg had been reported to have found a stone of inestimable value, they happened, by a singular accident, to dig up a piece of green opaque glass, about eight cubic inches in size, with something of an emerald hue; this was immediately declared to be the true stone, and carried as such in triumph to Cairo. When the jeweller passed through Esne, I had just arrived there, and saw the supposed treasure at the governor’s house; but I took care not to damp the joy of the officer of the detachment, who no doubt considered that his fortune was made. I heard afterwards that the news of the lucky discovery reached Cairo before the arrival of the treasure; that the discoverers received a handsome present from the Pasha; and that it was not till long afterwards that some connoisseur had the courage to assure his highness that the supposed emerald was nothing but a piece of glass. It had been dug out of a thick bed of gypsum, between ancient walls; and I have little doubt that a glass manufactory was anciently established on the spot. The surrounding mountains are very well wooded, and the Ababde Arabs burn there a large quantity of charcoal from the acacia trees, which they carry to the Nile, from whence it is shipped by the merchants to Cairo. The herbs Shieh (شيح), and Rothe (روثه), from which the best Kelhy or soda is made are common in the same mountain, and sand is found in plenty in the valleys; this, therefore, was a most convenient spot to establish a manufactory of glass. No doubt can be entertained that the ancient Egyptians made use of glass vessels; fragments of which, of the most varied shapes and colours, are found in the ruins of all their towns. It is even evident that they must have attained to considerable skill in this art, and that they had attempted to imitate precious stones in glass; for during my stay at Esne, several small pieces of glass were dug up amongst the ruins of Edfou (Apollinopolis Magna), which were perfect imitations of the amethyst and topaz.

Before mid-day we entered the bay of Fedja (فجع)[79]; its entrance is easy, and the anchorage spacious. The ship’s yard was injured this morning through the unskilfulness of the sailors in tacking; nothing, indeed, can be more awkward than the manner in which these country ships are navigated; none of the crew has any particular duty assigned to him, and every manœuvre creates general confusion. The captain has no real command over his men, who generally do only what they like, without attending either to his or the pilot’s orders; but as they are great cowards, the consequences of their ignorance prove less frequently fatal to the vessel than might be supposed. Whenever a fresh breeze springs up, the Arabian sailor instantly furls his sails, and runs his vessel ashore, where he remains till it abates; if the ship reaches the neighbourhood of a bay before noon, and doubts are entertained from the state of the wind, of the possibility of reaching the next bay before sun-set, the first is at once entered, and the whole afternoon is passed in idleness; for after the ship is made fast, there they remain, however favourable the wind may prove.

El Fedja is a noted anchorage on this coast. We soon opened a market with some Bedouins, who brought us excellent water. The mountains continue all along the coast at about four or five miles distant from the shore, which rises gradually to their base. The beach is sandy, with layers of chalk, formed by calcined conchylias; great numbers of shells are everywhere found, and it appeared to me that each species was generally confined to a particular spot on the coast. There were however various sorts in the bay of El Fedja. I particularly noticed the Sorombak, and the small white shell called at Cairo Woda (وَدَع), with which the Gipsey women tell fortunes, by tossing them up, as they pronounce the person’s name, and by observing the position in which they fall on the ground.

July 12th. We had a good wind, but want of water obliged us to run into the bay of Arakyá long before noon. It was our practice not to sail in the morning till the sun was sufficiently high to render shallow water and reefs visible at a good distance, for in most of these intricate channels the pilot’s eye is his only guide. Late this evening, the Arabs brought a large supply of water upon camels and asses, which they had drawn from a reservoir of rain-water three or four hours distant in the mountains. The bay is composed entirely of calcined shells, and affords a safe anchorage for large ships. I fought here a hard battle with some of the Souakin merchants, who continued to ill treat, by every means in their power, the poor Negroes, and would listen to none of my representations in their behalf. They had conceived a contemptible opinion of myself, notwithstanding the respect they saw paid to me at Souakin, because I had not got a new dress, and because they thought that I had made myself too familiar with the Black wretches, as they termed them. I was seconded in my endeavours for the benefit of the Tekaýrne by a Greek Christian, who had come with us from Souakin, and who afforded me much entertainment during the voyage. His name was Stafa, a native of Negropont, and he was a sailor by profession. He had visited England some years ago on board a brig of war sent there by Mohammed Aly Pasha, to solicit permission to sail to the Red Sea by the way of the Cape of Good Hope. Having remained in England a whole year, he had learned a little English; after his return the Pasha had given him the command of a Dow in the Red Sea. He had been to Souakin to recover a debt of some hundred dollars, from a Souakiny, and was now returning to Djidda. Like all the other persons on board, he took me for a Syrian, and conversed with me in broken Arabic. I was exceedingly amused with the account of his travels in Europe, and the palpable falsehoods and absurdities which he uttered respecting what he had seen in England, and the manners of the inhabitants. Comparatively speaking, I had no reason to complain of my treatment on board the vessel; the Reis, an inhabitant of Djidda, was the more willing to accommodate me, as I had given him a dollar as a present, notwithstanding my being a free passenger: the merchants paid two dollars each.

July 13th.—We had a tolerable wind, and by the help of the oars, which we often had recourse to, we reached at two o’clock A. M. the bay of Tahde. As there was a settlement of Amarer close to the beach, and as these Bedouins are not in much reputation for good faith, we remained at a considerable distance from the shore. Some of the sailors swam to the beach to settle with the chief the amount of duty to be paid; and the Greek captain and I were obliged to pay each half a measure of Dhourra above the stipulated sum, under the pretence that we were in the service of the Pasha, and not Arabs, like the others. We then landed upon a small raft towed alongside the vessel from the shore, and were well treated, or at least were unmolested by the Bedouins who assembled around us. They are of the tribe of Coubad, a principal branch of the Amarer, and they live here in tents made of black goats hair, like those of the Arabian Arabs. There were about thirty or forty tents. That of the Shikh was pitched close by the side of the tomb of his grandfather, a man who had been much respected among his tribe, and to whom a sepulchre of stone had been erected. In the evening immense herds of camels, sheep, and goats, came running down to the beach to drink at about half a dozen springs among some trees close to the sea. The water of all these springs, except one, is brackish. The sheep have short bad wool; but the hair of the goats is long. In the mountains are reservoirs of rain water; but the Bedouins seem to be accustomed to the water of the springs, and do not take the trouble of bringing sweet water from such a distance. Not far from the wells the beach becomes very rocky, is covered with loose stones of great size, and rises rapidly towards the mountains; as far as I could observe, these rocks are entirely of gray granite. The whole of the morning was spent in bargaining for milk; after the camels had drank water, their owners milked them; and the milk was placed before the camels in large vessels made of reeds, closely interwoven, exactly like those made by the Barábera above Assouan. We had all brought with us a quantity of Dhourra and tobacco, which are the best medium of traffic on this coast. We put down near each vessel as much of the one or the other, as we thought fit to give; but until we made up the exact quantity which the Bedouin was determined to have, he continued to order us very coolly to “go away” (Kak); they would not admit of any sort of bargaining, but repeated the word Kak.[80] Several of the Souakin merchants and sailors found here some female friends of old acquaintance, and although the captain had given orders that every body should return on board after sun-set, they remained on shore, and we heard their boisterous songs the whole night. The women here went unveiled, and behaved with great freedom. The dress of the men is the usual Dammour shirt; they carry lances, and targets, and a few have swords; their principal enjoyment seems to be, as in other parts of Nubia, to get drunk with Bouza. The great numbers of their cattle expose them sometimes to the inroads of foreign enemies. The people of Yembo occasionally come here in small ships, well armed with firelocks, and plunder the whole neighbourhood of the cattle, alleging as an excuse, that the Amarer formerly killed several of their countrymen, who had been shipwrecked on this coast.

July 14th.—As we stood out of the bay a ship from Djidda was entering: vessels bound from that port to Souakin usually cross over here, and then coast along southward to their destination. Unless the wind is particularly favourable, they rarely cross the sea direct to Souakin. Had the wind been favourable for us, we should have stood across from this bay; but it was southerly, and we therefore steered for a small island, a few miles to the north of Tebade, where we entered a fine bay, with the intention of waiting there for a northerly wind. This island bears the name of Djebel Mekouar; Djebel, because it consists almost entirely of a single low rocky mountain; and Mekouar, from كورّ, يكورّ, which in the dialect of the Yemen sailors means to cross over, or to start in order to cross over.[81] The passage across the sea is usually begun at this island, as well from its being in a more northern latitude than Djidda, and thus affording the full advantage of the northerly winds, as from the passage across being quite free from hidden shoals or reefs, which otherwise might render the navigation dangerous during the night. It requires generally two days and one night to perform the passage.

We dispersed among the low trees and shrubs with which the shores of the island are thickly lined, and some of which even grow in the water; in foliage the trees resemble the aloe; the wood is very brittle. The island, as far as I could judge, is about eight miles in circumference; on its north-east side, and close to it, is a much smaller one. I wished to visit the interior of the island; but we were kept ready to sail at a moment’s notice, in case the wind should come round to the northward. The island is of secondary formation, with chalk, and entirely barren, except the beach, where the trees grow. On its western side is another anchorage, but less spacious than that on the south side, in which our vessel moored. It is inhabited by about twenty Bisharye families, who are complete ichthyophagi: they have very few sheep and goats, the mountain scarcely affording any pasture. On the north side of the island are some wells, but the water is so brackish that even the inhabitants cannot drink it. During the winter they find rain water among the rocks; in the summer they cross over weekly upon the rafts used by them in fishing, to the continent, which is only one or two miles distant, and where they obtain a supply from some wells to the north of Tebade. They appear to live almost entirely upon fish, shell-fish, and eggs; they obtain a little milk from their sheep, which are not more than thirty in number. They fish with nets and hooks, which they buy from the Souakin ships. Of the thick skin of some large fish, unknown to me, they make targets of a round and square form, about a foot and a half in diameter, and sufficiently strong to resist a spear-thrust. In the mountains they collect at this season vast numbers of the eggs of a species of sea-gull, which is very common here. About a dozen men and women came to the bay, with some sheep and a little milk and eggs for sale. The boiled yolks of the eggs were piled up on their targets, and carried on their heads, and I was told that they preserve them in this state for many weeks. Both the men and women had a very emaciated appearance; none of them spoke Arabic. I wished to barter for some milk, but the women had conceived such horror on seeing me, that they absolutely refused to have any dealings whatever with me. They all seemed extremely desirous of Dhourra, which they have no other means of obtaining than from ships touching here; but their sheep were still more valuable to them, for they would not part with any of them, though we offered a good price.

From the adjacent point of the main land begin the territories of the Bedouins Bisharein, which extend northwards eight days journey to the limits of the dominions of the Bedouins Ababde. The inhabitants of Mekouar are exposed to the attacks of the Amarer from Tebade, when the two tribes are at war; they then usually retire to the main land; their principal object in coming here seems to be to barter with the ships which touch at the island in their passage to or from Djidda and Souakin. I was told that they consider the island as their own property, and that no other Bisharein are permitted to settle on it. It has been supposed to be the Emerald Island; but the Arabian sailors give that name to some islands further northward, between this and Kosseir.

I was informed here, that one day’s sail farther north, or from twenty to twenty-five miles, which is the usual rate of these vessels, there is a large bay extending considerably inland, called Mersa Dóngola (مرسي دنقله), or the harbour of Dóngola, with an island at its entrance: it is well known for its rich pearl fishery. The captain of our boat, Seid Mustafa ed-Djedáwy (سيد مصطفي الجداوي), had once been there, and brought home a considerable quantity of pearls of middling quality, which the Sherif Ghalib afterwards took from him at Djidda. He told me that the bottom of the sea in the bay was full of pearl-oysters, and that they may easily be fished, as the water is not very deep. It is not however frequented at present for pearl-fishing, partly because the treacherous character of the Bisharein, who inhabit the harbour, is much dreaded; but chiefly because the ship-owners are fearful of its being said that they have found treasures of pearls, which would immediately attract the attention of the government of Djidda. I was repeatedly assured that the coast northwards from Djebel Mekouar towards Kosseir is entirely unknown to the Souakin and Kosseir pilots; and that of the Djidda pilots very few only, of the tribe of the Zebeyde Arabs, have even a slight knowledge of it. No commerce, nor direct intercourse is carried on between Kosseir and Souakin; and the navigation of this part of the coast, as well as northward from Kosseir to Suez, is scarcely ever performed by natives of the Red Sea. The Zebeyde Arabs alone sometimes touch at the harbour of Olba, which is four days sail beyond the harbour of Dóngola, and five from Djebel Mekouar. Pearls are said to be found all along this coast, as far south as Massouah, but no where in such plenty as at Mersa Dóngola.

We had to repair a leak in the vessel, occasioned by her striking on a coral reef the preceding day; proper arrangements were also made in the distribution of the cargo and passengers, in order to leave room sufficient for the sailors to work the vessel in the passage across the sea, which the Arabians never undertake without evident signs of fear, and without recommending themselves to the protection of the Prophet and all the saints.

July 15th.—A favourable wind sprung up this morning, and we steered for the open sea. A compass was brought from amongst the ship’s lumber, but merely for form’s sake, for the captain and pilot quarrelled which was the due north. Towards evening the wind increased, when the sailors exchanged the large sail for a smaller. When night set in, the brilliant light on the surface of the water, wherever it was agitated, greatly astonished the Negroes, who endeavoured in vain to obtain an explanation of the phænomenon from the sailors. We passed a cold uncomfortable night, no one having room enough to sleep in. The bold travellers of the desert betrayed great fear in the open sea, to the great amusement of the people from Souakin.

July 16th. Early in the morning we descried the coast of Arabia; the ignorance of the pilot now became evident, for instead of finding ourselves off Djidda, as we might have been, had he steered by compass, we were at least fifty miles to the south of it. We entered a small bay in full sail, and had nearly foundered by a whirlwind that sprung up at the moment. We found the beach to be entirely barren, and without wells or springs to a considerable distance; no Bedouins were any where visible. We were now in great distress for water; the last supply we had taken in at Arakyá was nearly consumed; and the water-skins of the Tekaýrne were all empty; the wind was foul, and we had no reasonable hope of reaching Djidda in less than two days. In the evening the greater part of the Tekaýrne left the ship, to proceed by land to Djidda; the sailors represented this place to them as being much nearer than it really was, and pointed to a mountain, about twelve miles distant from our anchorage, where they said a well would be found; but where, as I afterwards understood, no such well existed, their design being merely to get rid of the pilgrims in the fear that necessity might at last force them to fall upon the crew’s stock of water.[82] The Souakin ships seldom arrive at Djidda with pilgrims, without their having suffered from a want of water; the number of pilgrims on board being always so great, that it is impossible for them to carry a supply for more than three days, without a sacrifice of other conveniences, which they are never willing to make; and Djebel Mekouar, from whence the ship takes her departure for the opposite coast, furnishes no water at all. I afterwards saw Negroes at Djidda who had not drank water during this passage for four whole days. We were obliged to remain at anchor here till the following day. There are fewer shells on this coast than on the other.

July 17th. About noon we sailed with a southerly breeze, and at sunset the vessel was moored to a coral reef at some distance from the shore. There was an almost total eclipse of the sun this morning; the sailors and the Tekaýrne who remained on board were all equally terrified at the unusual darkness which surrounded them. According to the Mohammedan law, every Mussulman repeated two Rekats (صلاةْ الكسفه Salat el-kassfé, i. e. Prayers of the eclipse), which done, kettles, swords, shields, and spoons were beaten against each other while the eclipse continued.

July 18th. It was a calm this morning, and the sailors were employed at the oars; but they became so fatigued with rowing, that we entered about mid-day a harbour opposite to the tomb of a Shikh, with a cupola upon it; it was called Shikh Amer (شيخ عمرْ) There was now not a drop of water in the vessel; a well was said to be in the mountain behind the shore, but no one on board knew exactly in what part; and though we were so near Djidda as to hear the report of some guns in the evening, yet there was a probability of our still remaining on board several days, and thus suffering all the pangs of thirst. I desired therefore to be set on shore upon a raft which the captain had purchased at Tebade. The Greek passenger, and two Souakin men, with their slaves also followed. We walked the whole night along the barren beach, which was covered with a saline crust, till we fell in with the high road leading along shore towards Yemen; about an hour from Djidda we reached a Bedouin encampment, where we refreshed ourselves, and safely entered the town in good health. In the course of the morning of the 19th, we smuggled the slaves who had walked with us, into Djidda; those landed from the ships pay a duty of a dollar a head. The vessel arrived the day following, the 20th July, 1814.