sharraf delayed to come until the third morning, but then we heard him loudly, for the arabs of his raiding force fired slow volleys of shots into the air, and the echoes were thrown about the windings of the valley till even the barren hills seemed to join in the salute. we dressed in our cleanest to go and call on him. auda wore the splendours he had bought at wejh: a mouse-coloured greatcoat of broadcloth with velvet collar, and yellow elastic-sided boots: these below his streaming hair and ruined face of a tired tragedian! sharraf was kind to us, for he had captured prisoners on the line and blown up rails and a culvert. one piece of his news was that in wadi diraa, on our road, were pools of rain-water, new fallen and sweet. this would shorten our waterless march to fejr by fifty miles, and remove its danger of thirst; a great benefit, for our total water carriage came to about twenty gallons, for fifty men; too slender a margin of safety.
next day we left abu raga near mid-afternoon, not sorry, for this beautiful place had been unhealthy for us and fever had bothered us during our three days in its confined bed. auda led us up a tributary valley which soon widened into the plain of the shegg — a sand flat. about it, in scattered confusion, sat small islands and pinnacles of red sandstone, grouped like seracs, wind-eroded at the bases till they looked very fit to fall and block the road; which wound in and out between them, through narrows seeming to give no passage, but always opening into another bay of blind alleys. through this maze auda led unhesitatingly; digging along on his camel, elbows out, hands poised swaying in the air by his shoulders.
there were no footmarks on the ground, for each wind swept like a great brush over the sand surface, stippling the traces of the last travellers till the surface was again a pattern of innumerable tiny virgin waves. only the dried camel droppings, which were lighter than the sand and rounded like walnuts, escaped over its ripples.
they rolled about, to be heaped in corners by the skirling winds. it was perhaps by them, as much as by his unrivalled road-sense, that auda knew the way. for us, the rock shapes were constant speculation and astonishment; their granular surfaces and red colour and the curved chiselling of the sand-blast upon them softened the sunlight, to give our streaming eyes relief.
in the mid-march we perceived five or six riders coming from the railway. i was in front with auda, and we had that delicious thrill: fiend or enemy?’ of meeting strangers in the desert, whilst we circumspectly drew across to the vantage side which kept the rifle-arm free for a snap shot; but when they came nearer we saw they were of the arab forces. the first, riding loosely on a hulking camel, with the unwieldy manchester-made timber saddle of the british camel corps, was a fair-haired, shaggy-bearded englishman in tattered uniform. this we guessed must be hornby, newcombe’s pupil, the wild engineer who vied with him in smashing the railway. after we had exchanged greetings, on this our first meeting, he told me that newcombe had lately gone to wejh to talk over his difficulties with feisal and make fresh plans to meet them.
newcombe had constant difficulties owing to excess of zeal, and his habit of doing four times more than any other englishman would do; ten times what the arabs thought needful or wise. hornby spoke little arabic; and newcombe not enough to persuade, though enough to give orders; but orders were not in place inland. the persistent pair would cling for weeks to the railway edge, almost without helpers, often without food, till they had exhausted either explosives or camels and had to return for more. the barrenness of the hills made their trips hungry for camels, and they wore out feisal’s best animals in turn. in this newcombe was chief sinner, for his journeys were done at the trot; also, as a surveyor, he could not resist a look from each high hill over the country he crossed, to the exasperation of his escort who must either leave him to his own courses (a lasting disgrace to abandon a companion of the road), or founder their own precious and irreplaceable camels in keeping pace with him. ‘newcombe is like fire,’ they used to complain; tie burns friend and enemy’; and they admired his amazing energy with nervous shrinking lest they should be his next friendly victims.
arabs told me newcombe would not sleep except head on rails, and that hornby would worry the metals with his teeth when gun-cotton failed. these were legends, but behind them lay a sense of their joint insatiate savagery in destroying till there was no more to destroy. four turkish labour battalions they kept busy, patching culverts, relaying sleepers, jointing new rails; and gun-cotton had to come in increasing tons to wejh to meet their appetites. they were wonderful, but their too-great excellence discouraged our feeble teams, making them ashamed to exhibit their inferior talent: so newcombe and hornby remained as individualists, barren of the seven-fold fruits of imitation.
at sunset we reached the northern limit of the ruined sandstone land, and rode up to a new level, sixty feet higher than the old, blue-black and volcanic, with a scattered covering of worn basalt-blocks, small as a man’s hand, neatly bedded like cobble paving over a floor of fine, hard, black cinder-debris of themselves. the rain in its long pelting seemed to have been the agent of these stony surfaces by washing away the lighter dust from above and between, till the stones, set closely side by side and as level as a carpet, covered all the face of the plain and shielded from direct contact with weather the salty mud which filled the interstices of the lava flow beneath. it grew easier going, and auda ventured to carry on after the light had failed, marching upon the polar star.
it was very dark; a pure night enough, but the black stone underfoot swallowed the light of the stars, and at seven o’clock, when at last we halted, only four of our party were with us. we had reached a gentle valley, with a yet damp, soft, sandy bed, full of thorny brushwood, unhappily useless as camel food. we ran about tearing up these bitter bushes by the roots and heaping them in a great pyre, which auda lit. when the fire grew hot a long black snake wormed slowly out into our group; we must have gathered it, torpid, with the twigs. the flames went shining across the dark flat, a beacon to the heavy camels which had lagged so much to-day that it was two hours before the last group arrived, the men singing their loudest, partly to encourage themselves and their hungry animals over the ghostly plain, partly so that we might know them friends. we wished their slowness slower, because of our warm fire. in the night some of our camels strayed and our people had to go looking for them so long, that it was nearly eight o’clock, and we had baked bread and eaten, before again we started. our track lay across more lava-field, but to our morning strength the stones seemed rarer, and waves or hard surfaces of laid sand often drowned them smoothly with a covering as good to march on as a tennis court. we rode fast over this for six or seven miles, and then turned west of a low cinder-crater across the flat, dark, stony watershed which divided jizil from the basin in which the railway ran. these great water systems up here at their springing were shallow, sandy beds, scoring involved yellow lines across the blue-black plain. from our height the lie of the land was patent for miles, with the main features coloured in layers, like a map.
we marched steadily till noon, and then sat out on the bare ground till three; an uneasy halt made necessary by our fear that the dejected camels, so long accustomed only to the sandy tracks of the coastal plain, might have their soft feet scorched by the sun-baked stones, and go lame with us on the road. after we mounted, the going became worse, and we had continually to avoid large fields of piled basalt, or deep yellow watercourses which cut through the crust into the soft stone beneath. after a while red sandstone again cropped out in crazy chimneys, from which the harder layers projected knife-sharp in level shelves beyond the soft, crumbling rock. at last these sandstone ruins became plentiful, in the manner of yesterday, and stood grouped about our road in similar chequered yards of light and shade. again we marvelled at the sureness with which auda guided our little party through the mazy rocks.
they passed, and we re-entered volcanic ground. little pimply craters stood about, often two or three together, and from them spines of high, broken basalt led down like disordered causeways across the barren ridges; but these craters looked old, not sharp and well-kept like those of ras gara, near wadi ais, but worn and degraded, sometimes nearly to surface level by a great bay broken into their central hollow. the basalt which ran out from them was a coarse bubbled rock, like syrian dolerite. the sand-laden winds had ground its exposed surfaces to a pitted smoothness like orange-rind, and the sunlight had faded out its blue to a hopeless grey.
between craters the basalt was strewn in small tetrahedra, with angles rubbed and rounded, stone tight to stone like tesseract upon a bed of pink-yellow mud. the ways worn across such flats by the constant passage of camels were very evident, since the slouching tread had pushed the blocks to each side of the path, and the thin mud of wet weather had run into these hollows and now inlaid them palely against the blue. less-used roads for hundreds of yards were like narrow ladders across the stone-fields, for the tread of each foot was filled in with clean yellow mud, and ridges or bars of the blue-grey stone remained between each stepping place. after a stretch of such stone-laying would be a field of jet-black basalt cinders, firm as concrete in tie sun-baked mud, and afterwards a valley of soft, black sand, with more crags of weathered sandstone rising from the blackness, or from waves of the wind-blown red and yellow grains of their own decay.
nothing in the march was normal or reassuring. we felt we were in an ominous land, incapable of life, hostile even to the passing of life, except painfully along such sparse roads as time had laid across its face. we were forced into a single file of weary camels, picking a hesitant way step by step through the boulders for hour after hour. at last auda pointed ahead to a fifty-foot ridge of large twisted blocks, lying coursed one upon the other as they had writhed and shrunk in their cooling. there was the limit of lava; and he and i rode on together and saw in front of us an open rolling plain (wadi aish) of fine scrub and golden sand, with green bushes scattered here and there. it held a very little water in holes which someone had scooped after the rainstorm of three weeks ago. we camped by them and drove our unladen camels out till sunset, to graze for the first adequate time since abu raga.
while they were scattered over the land, mounted men appeared on the horizon to the east, making towards the water. they came on too quickly to be honest, and fired at our herdsmen; but the rest of us ran at once upon the scattered reefs and knolls, shooting or shouting. hearing us so many they drew off as fast as their camels would go; and from the ridge in the dusk we saw them, a bare dozen in all, scampering away towards the line. we were glad to see them avoid us so thoroughly. auda thought they were a shammar patrol.
at dawn we saddled up for the short stage to diraa, the water pools of which sharraf had told us. the first miles were through the grateful sand and scrub of wadi aish, and afterwards we crossed a simple lava flat. then came a shallow valley, more full of sandstone pillars and mushrooms and pinnacles than anywhere yesterday. it was a mad country, of nine-pins from ten to sixty feet in height. the sand-paths between them were wide enough for one only, and our long column wound blindly through, seldom a dozen of us having common sight at once. this ragged thicket of stone was perhaps a third of a mile in width, and stretched like a red copse to right and left across our path.
beyond it a graded path over black ledges of rotten stone led us to a plateau strewn with small, loose, blue-black basalt shards. after a while we entered wadi diraa and marched down its bed for an hour or more, sometimes over loose grey stone, sometimes along a sandy bottom between low lips of rock. a deserted camp with empty sardine tins gave proof of newcombe and hornby. behind were the limpid pools, and we halted there till afternoon; for we were now quite near the railway, and had to drink our stomachs full and fill our few water-skins, ready for the long dash to fejr.
in the halt auda came down to see farraj and daud dress my camel with butter for relief against the intolerable itch of mange which had broken out recently on its face. the dry pasturage of the billi country and the infected ground of wejh had played havoc with our beasts. in ahl feisal’s stud of riding-camels there was not one healthy; in our little expedition every camel was weakening daily. nasir was full of anxiety lest many break down in the forced march before us and leave their riders stranded in the desert.
we had no medicines for mange and could do little for it in spite of our need. however, the rubbing and anointing did make my animal more comfortable, and we repeated it as often as farraj or daud could find butter in our party. these two boys were giving me great satisfaction. they were brave and cheerful beyond the average of arab servant-kind. as their aches and pains wore off they showed themselves active, good riders, and willing workmen. i liked their freedom towards myself and admired their instinctive understanding with one another against the demands of the world.
