<h3><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI</h3>
<h4>MAKALLA</h4>
<p>After our journeys in South Africa and Abyssinia, it was
suggested to my husband that a survey of the Hadhramout
by an independent traveller would be useful to the Government;
so in the winter of 1893-94 we determined to do
our best to penetrate into this unknown district, which
anciently was the centre of the frankincense and myrrh
trade, one of the most famed commercial centres of 'Araby
the Blest,' before Mohammedan fanaticism blighted all
industries and closed the peninsula to the outer world.</p>
<p>In the proper acceptation of the term, the Hadhramout
at the present time is not a district running along the south-east
coast of Arabia between the sea and the central desert,
as is generally supposed, but it is simply a broad valley
running for 100 miles or more parallel to the coast, by which
the valleys of the high Arabian table-land discharge their
not abundant supply of water into the sea at Saihut,
towards which place this valley gradually slopes.</p>
<p>There is every reason to believe that anciently, too, the
Hadhramout meant only this valley; we learnt from Himyaritic
inscriptions that five centuries <span class="smcap">b.c.</span> the name was
spelt by the Himyars as it is now (namely, t m r d h [Symbol: See page image]), and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/72.png">72</SPAN>]</span>
meant in that tongue 'the enclosure or valley of death,' a
name which in Hebrew form corresponds exactly to that of
Hazarmaveth of the tenth chapter of Genesis, and which the
Greeks, in their usual slipshod manner—occasioned by their
inability, as is the case still, to pronounce a pure <i>h</i>—converted
into <i>Chatramitæ</i>, a form which still survives in the Italian
word <i>catrame</i>, or 'pitch.'</p>
<p>Owing to the intense fanaticism of the inhabitants, this
main valley has been reached only by one European before
ourselves—namely, Herr Leo Hirsch, in 1893. In 1846 Von
Wrede made a bold attempt to reach it, but only got as far
as the collateral valley of Doan. My husband and I were
the first to attempt (in the latter part of 1893 and the
early part of 1894) this journey without any disguise, and
with a considerable train of followers, and I think, for this
very reason, that we went openly, we made more impression
on the natives, and were able to remain there longer and see
more, than might otherwise have been the case, and to
establish relations with the inhabitants which, I hope, will
hereafter lead to very satisfactory results.</p>
<p>Having arrived at Aden with letters of recommendation
to the Resident from the Indian Government and the India
Office, besides private introductions, we were amazed at all
the difficulties thrown in our way. It quite appeared as if
we had left our native land to do some evil deed to its
detriment, and we were made to feel how thoroughly
degrading it is to take up the vocation of an archæologist
and explorer.</p>
<p>Many strange and unexpected things befell us, but the
most remarkable of all was that when a certain surgeon-captain
asked for leave to accompany us, it was refused to
him on the ground that 'Mr. Theodore Bent's expedition
was not sanctioned by Government,' in spite of the fact that
the Indian Government had actually placed at my husband's<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/73.png">73</SPAN>]</span>
disposal a surveyor, Imam Sharif, Khan Bahadur. We had
no assistance beyond two very inferior letters to the sultans
of Makalla and Sheher, which made them think we were
'people of the rank of merchants,' they afterwards said.</p>
<p>Imam Sharif has travelled much with Englishmen, so he
speaks our language perfectly, and having a keen sense of
humour, plenty of courage and tact, and no Mohammedan
prejudices, we got on splendidly together. He was a very
agreeable member of the party. My husband paid all his
expenses from Quetta <i>viâ</i> Bombay, with three servants,
including their tents and camp equipage, and back to
Quetta.</p>
<p>Our party was rather a large one, for besides ourselves
and our faithful Greek servant Matthaios, who has accompanied
us in so many of our journeys, we had with us not
only the Indians, but a young gardener from Kew, William
Lunt by name, as botanist, and an Egyptian named
Mahmoud Bayoumi, as naturalist, sent by Dr. Anderson,
whose collections are now in the British Museum of Natural
History at South Kensington.</p>
<p>The former was provided with all the requisites for digging
up forest trees, and Mahmoud had with him all that
was necessary for pickling and preserving large mammals,
for no one knew what might be found in the unknown land;
and many were the volunteers to join the party as hunters,
who promised to keep us in game, whereas if they had come
they would only have found reptiles.</p>
<p>As interpreter was recommended to us by the native
political agent at Aden, Saleh Mohammed Jaffer, Khan
Bahadur—a certain Saleh Hassan. He proved to be a fanatical
Moslem, whose only object seemed to be to terrify us and to
raise enemies against us, in order to prevent our trampling
the holy land where Mohammed was born. Throughout our
journey he was a constant source of difficulty and danger.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/74.png">74</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>Our starting-point for the interior was Makalla, which
is 230 miles from Aden, and is the only spot between Aden
and Maskat which has any pretensions to the name of
port. The name itself means 'harbour.' It is first mentioned
by Ibn Modjawir; Hamdani calls it El Asa-Lasa, and
Masudi gives the name as Lahsa. The harbour is not available
during the south-west monsoon, and then all the boats
go off to Ras Borum or the Basalt Head.</p>
<p>Here we were deposited in December 1893 by a chance
steamer, one which had been chartered and on which for a
consideration we were allowed to take passage. I took turns
with the captain to sleep in his cabin, but there was nothing
but the deck for the others.</p>
<p>Immediately behind the town rise grim, arid mountains
of a reddish hue, and the town is plastered against this rich-tinged
background. By the shore, like a lighthouse, stands
the white minaret of the mosque, the walls and pinnacles of
which are covered with dense masses of sea-birds and pigeons;
the gate of this mosque, which is really nearly in the sea, is
blocked up by tanks, so that no one can enter with unwashed
feet. Not far from this rises the huge palace where the
sultan dwells, reminding one of a whitewashed mill; white,
red, and brown are the dominant colours of the town, and
in the harbour the Arab dhows, with fantastic sterns, rock
to and fro in the unsteady sea, forming altogether a picturesque
and unusual scene.</p>
<p>Beyond the Bab Assab are huts where dwell the Bedouin
who come from the mountains. They are not allowed to
sleep within the town. There is a praying-place just outside
the gate. In the middle of the town is a great cemetery
full of tamarisks, and containing the sacred tomb of the
sainted Wali Yakoub in the centre.</p>
<p>We were amused by a dance at a street corner to the
beating of drums. It consisted of a hot, seething mass of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/75.png">75</SPAN>]</span>
brown bodies writhing about and apparently enjoying themselves.</p>
<p>Stone tobacco pipes are made here of a kind of limestone,
very curly silver powder-flasks, rather like nautilus shells,
and curious guns without stocks. The Bedou women wear
tremendously heavy belts and very wide brass armlets.
Their faces are veiled with something like the <i>yashmak</i> of
Egypt, but it is of plain blue calico, a little embroidered.</p>
<p>Makalla is ruled over by a sultan of the Al Kaiti family,
whose connection with India has made them very English
in their sympathies, and his majesty's general appearance,
with his velvet coat and jewelled daggers, is far more Indian
than Arabian. Really the most influential people in the
town are the money-grubbing Parsees from Bombay, and it
is essentially one of those commercial centres where Hindustani
is spoken nearly as much as Arabian. The government
of the country is now almost entirely in the hands of the
Al Kaiti family, which at present is the most powerful
family in the district, and is reputed to be the richest in
Arabia.</p>
<p>About five generations ago the Seyyids of the Aboubekr
family, at that time the chief Arab family at the Hadhramout,
who claimed descent from the first of the Khalifs, were at
variance with the Bedou tribes, and in their extremity they
invited assistance from the chiefs of the Yafei tribe, who
inhabit the Yafei district, to the north-east of Aden. To
this request the Al Kaiti family responded by sending assistance
to the Seyyids of the Hadhramout, putting down the
troublesome Bedou tribes, and establishing a fair amount
of peace and prosperity in the country, though even to this
day the Bedouin of the mountains are ever ready to swoop
down and harass the more peaceful inhabitants of the towns.
At the same time the Al Kaiti family established themselves
in the Hadhramout, and for the last four generations have<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/76.png">76</SPAN>]</span>
been steadily adding to the power thus acquired. Makalla,
Sheher, Shibahm, Haura, Hagarein, all belong to them, and
they are continually increasing, by purchase, the area of
their influence in the collateral valleys, building substantial
castles, and establishing one of the most powerful dynasties
in this much-divided country. They get all their money
from the Straits Settlements, for it has been the custom of
the Hadhrami to leave their own sterile country to seek
their fortunes abroad. The Nizam of Hyderabad has an
Arab regiment composed entirely of Hadhrami, and the
Sultan Nawasjung, the present head of the Al Kaiti family,
is its general: he lives in India and governs his Arabian
possessions by deputy. His son Ghalib ruled in Sheher,
his nephew Manassar, who receives a dollar a day from
England, ruled in Makalla, and his nephew Salàh ruled in
Shibahm, and the governors of the other towns are mostly
connections of this family. The power and wealth of this
family are almost the only guarantee for peace and prosperity
in an otherwise lawless country.</p>
<p>The white palace of the Sultan Manassar is six stories
high, with little carved windows and a pretty sort of cornice
of open-work bricks, unbaked of course, save by the sun.
It stands on a little peninsula, and like Riviera towns, has
pretty coast views on either side. The sultan received us
with his two young sons, dressed up in as many fine clothes
as it was possible to put on, and attended by his vizier,
Abdul Kalek; no business was done as to our departure,
but only compliments were paid on both sides. After we
had separated presents were sent by us, loaves of sugar
being an indispensable accompaniment.</p>
<p>The so-called palace in which we were lodged was next
to the mosque and close to the bazaar; the smells
and noise were almost unendurable, so we worked hard
to get our preparations made, and to make our sojourn<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/77.png">77</SPAN>]</span>
here as short as possible. This 'palace' was a large
building; a very dirty staircase led to a quantity of rooms,
large and small, inhabited in rather a confusing manner, not
only by our own party, but by another, and to get at our
servants we had to pick our way between the prostrate
forms of an Arabian gentleman and his attendants. We
were the first arrivals, so we collected from the various
rooms as many bits of torn and rotten old matting as we
could find, to keep the dust down in our own room, which
was about 40 feet long by 30 feet wide, so very much covered
with dust that no pavement could be seen without digging.
It would have been necessary to have 'seven maids with
seven brooms to sweep for half a year' before they could
have cleared that room. Windows were all round, unglazed
of course, and quite shutterless. We set out our furniture and
had plenty of room to spread the baggage round us. An
enormous packing case from Kew Gardens had little besides
a great fork in it, so that case came no farther. Another
case, to which the botanist had to resort constantly, had
always to be tied up with rope, as it had neither lock nor
hinges.</p>
<p>We were six days at Makalla arranging about camels and
safe conduct, and wondering when we should get away; so
of course we had plenty of time to inspect the town, which
on account of the many Parsees had quite an Indian air
in some parts. Sometimes one comes upon a deliciously
scented part in the bazaars where myrrh and spices, attar of
roses, and rose leaves are sold in little grimy holes almost too
small to enter; but for the part near the fish market, I can
only say that awful stenches prevail, and the part where
dates and other fruits are sold is almost impassable from
flies.</p>
<p>For our journey inland we were entrusted by the sultan
to a tribe of Bedouin and their camels. Mokaik was the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/78.png">78</SPAN>]</span>
name of our Mokadam or head-man, and his tribe rejoiced in
the name of Khailiki. They were tiny spare men, quite
beardless, with very refined, gentle faces; they might easily
have been taken for women, so gentle and pretty were they.
They were naturally dark, and made darker still by dirt and
indigo. Their long shaggy hair was twisted up into a knot
and bound by a long plaited leather string like a bootlace,
which was wound round the hair and then two or three times
round the head, like the fillet worn by Greek women in
ancient times. They were naked save for a loin-cloth and the
girdle to which were attached their brass powder flasks,
shaped like a ram's horn, their silver cases for flint and
steel, their daggers, and their thorn extractors, consisting of a
picker and tweezers, fastened together. They are very different
from the stately Bedouin of Syria and Egypt, and are,
both as to religion and physique, distinctly an aboriginal
race of Southern Arabia, as different from the Arab as the
Hindoo is from the Anglo-Saxon.</p>
<p>Our ideas as to <i>Bedouin</i> and <i>Bedawi</i>, which latter word
we never heard while we were in Southern Arabia, were
that they were tall, bearded men, not very dark in colour,
and our imaginations connected them with hospitality and
much clothes. None of these characteristics are found among
the Bedouin of this district. <i>Bedouin</i> is not a word in use,
but <i>Bedou</i> for both singular and plural. They speak of
themselves as <i>el Bedou</i>, and when they have seen us
wondering at some strange custom, they have said apologetically,
'Ah! Bedou, Bedou!' I have heard them address
a man whose name they did not know 'Ya Bedou.' I
mean to use <i>Bedou</i> for singular and <i>Bedouin</i> for plural.</p>
<p>Besides the Bedouin we were accompanied by five
soldiers, Muofok-el-Briti, Taisir-i-Fahari, Bariki, and an old
man. For the twenty-two camels we paid 175 dollars to
Hagarein, a journey, we were told, of twenty days.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/79.png">79</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>It would have been useless to have had riding camels, as
one could get no faster than the baggage and soldiers, and
travelling so far daily, and up such rocks, one had to go at
foot-pace. We should have had to wait longer at Makalla
while more camels were collected, and the more camels you
have the farther they stray when food is scarce, and the more
chance there is of the annoyance of waiting for lost camels
to be found, and sometimes found too late to start that day.
We need not have had twenty-two camels, and once, later,
all the baggage was sent on ten, but this was to suit the
purposes of the Bedouin.</p>
<p>Before proceeding further with our journey, I will here
say a few words concerning the somewhat complex body
politic of this portion of Arabia, the inhabitants of which
may be divided into four distinct classes.</p>
<p>Firstly, there are numerous wild tribes of Bedouin
scattered all over the country, who do all the carrying trade,
rear and own most of the camels, and possess large tracts of
country, chiefly on the highlands and smaller valleys. They
are very numerous and powerful, and the Arabs of the towns
are certainly afraid of them, for they can make travelling in
the country very difficult, and even blockade the towns.
They never live in tents, as do the Bedouin of Northern
Arabia; the richer ones have quite large houses, whilst the
poorer ones—those in Shabwa and the Wadi Adim, for
instance—dwell in caves.</p>
<p>Secondly, we have the Arabs proper, a decidedly later
importation into the country than the Bedouin. They live
in and cultivate the lands around the towns; many of them
carry on trade and go to India and the Straits Settlements,
and some of them are very wealthy. They also are divided
into tribes. The chief of those dwelling in the Hadhramout
are the Yafei, Kattiri, Minhali, Amri, and Tamimi. The
Bedouin reside amongst them, and they are constantly at<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/80.png">80</SPAN>]</span>
war with one another, and the complex system of tribal
union is exceedingly difficult to grasp.</p>
<p>Thirdly, we have the Seyyids and Sherifs, a sort of
aristocratic hierarchy, who trace their descent from the
daughter and son of the Prophet. Their influence in the
Hadhramout is enormous, and they fan the religious superstition
of the people, for to this they owe their existence.
They boast that their pedigree is purer than that of any
other Seyyid family, even than those of Mecca and Medina.
Seyyids and Sherifs are to be found in all the large towns
and considerable villages, and even the Arab sultans show
them a marked respect and kiss their hands when they enter
a room. They have a distinct jurisdiction of their own, and
most disputed points of property, water rights, and so on,
are referred to their decision. They look with peculiar
distrust on the introduction of external influence into their
sacred country, and are the obstructionists of the Hadhramout,
but at the same time their influence is decidedly
towards law and order in a lawless land. They never carry
arms.</p>
<p>Lastly, we have the slave population of the Hadhramout,
all of African origin, and the freed slaves who have married
and settled in the country. Most of the tillers of the soil,
personal servants, and the soldiers of the sultans are of this
class.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/81.png">81</SPAN>]</span></p>
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