Part 2

Still winding our way up the Wadi; the mountains getting higher and steeper as we go on. Spied a most beautiful gazelle at about 10 o’clock, feeding on the scrub at the entrance to a ravine; not the common Dorcas gazelle, but quite a different sort. The Arabs called it a white gazelle, and said it was rare. I had a good look through my glass at it. It was nearly all white, with a few black markings on it, and lyre-shaped horns. It had evidently seen our caravan and was slowly making for the mountains. I made hot haste in pursuit, and after a long run got on its spoor. It had evidently heard me coming, as my boots made such a scrunching in the cindery ground, for when I came to the place where I expected to see it, it had decamped. I followed at a run on its tracks, and on reaching the top of a rocky rise I saw it standing, about five hundred yards away, on the far side of a ravine. It was no use following, so I turned back to the Wadi, meeting my camel-driver half way coming to see if I was lost. At midday the Wadi opened out into a large valley bounded on the north by the high mountains, at the foot of which we unloaded the thirsty camels, and started off to look for the long-hoped-for water, which our Bedouin told us was about half an hour’s climb up a gorge in the mountains. We found it as he said, two rocky pools, an upper and a lower, snugly hidden away in a deep cañon between two gloomy precipices. What a treat it was to see the camels quenching their thirst. It is a wonder how they ever managed to clamber up such a ravine, all a cascade of huge boulders and water-worn rocks. To-morrow the camels return for Powney, so we shall be alone for eleven days at least, during which time I hope to shoot an ibex and explore the mountains. We are 1700 feet above Kenneh by aneroid, and the night seems warmer than in the desert.

MEDISA, _January 13th,_ 1891.

Climbed the mountain close to our camp in a N.E. direction, so as to cut into the gorge higher up than the spot where we had watered our camels yesterday. According to Floyer’s map, which is so far the only one in existence, the Kittar cascade should be reached about eight miles higher up this same ravine. So we climbed on, hoping to reach it in a few hours; but what was my surprise at suddenly coming upon this lovely waterfall before we had left camp an hour. Thus proving that in the map the cascade is put about six miles higher up the gorge than it really is. I shall chaff them about their map making when we get home. Having rested awhile, and filled the water-bottles, we proceeded up the ravine, which now widens considerably. After marching about two miles, clambering over big boulders, with which this mountain torrent is strewn, we came upon a narrow place in the ravine which was suddenly ended by a wall of granite, over the edge of which a tiny little trickle of water threaded its way until it finally lost itself in the sand at the foot of the wall, which was only about fifteen feet high. My Arab scooped out the sand with his hands and soon made a little hollow, which rapidly filled with water. This water is not marked in the map. At the base of the wall, and in the ravine where we stood, grew tall rushes and various green weeds, also a bunch of young date-palms all in a tangled mass. Close by grew two good sized fig-trees, not the common sort, as their stems were quite white and the leaves very small. Then again, out of a cleft grew a most peculiar tree,[6] with flat, round leaves of brightest green. The stems were covered with white thorns, and here and there ripe fruit hung down like long purple figs, full of juicy pulp and seeds. I eagerly picked some and took a hasty bite, but spat it out in disgust as it was most utterly nasty, bitter as gall, and left a burning on the tongue. However, my Arab ate a lot of it, and is, still alive. I am keeping the fruit to bring home as the tree was a very pretty one. Altogether this little glen made quite a pretty oasis in the midst of the mountains which towered around on all sides. Having climbed up over the rock we scrambled on about half a mile till the ravine opened out again; and we found ourselves in a deep hollow amongst the mountains. Close by was a rude shelter of stones, roofless, but with a little window in it, and on the floor we picked up a few relics of old pottery.[7] After spying all the cliffs carefully for ibex and finding none, we returned to camp, after waiting awhile at the waterfall, which I must shortly describe. The narrow gorge ends suddenly in a sheer cliff about seventy feet high. At the top is a basin of clear water, the overflow of which trickles over the edge in scores of little silvery rills; all down the face of the rock grows lovely maidenhair ferns and tufts of rushes. Finally each little thread of water falls into the pool below, which I roughly put at ten feet deep and forty-one feet long, its breadth being the same as the ravine which held it, perhaps twenty-one feet.[8] Below, again, were two more pools about the same size, the whole forming a lovely necklace of limpid water, cool and quiet, as the sun never shines there. We viewed the spot from above, the only other occupant being a little waterwagtail that flitted about after insects on the water, and took no notice of us. I could find no way down the fall into the gorge below, which winds about till water again reappears at our old watering-place.

MEDISA, _January 14th,_ 1891.

Had an adventure with ibex to-day, but failed to get a shot. We had come about three miles up the Wadi in an easterly direction from camp. Then the Wadi turns north to the Kohila water, about ten miles off. Here we turned to the left, and entered a narrow ravine, which led us up in a short time to the base of the mountain-top. Here we rested, and lunched on eggs and biscuits, admiring the grand view of these steep mountains, which shut us in on every side. Having lunched, we set off again, still bearing north, and soon saw our Wadi far away below us, as it curled gradually round to the N.W. We were just going down a narrow cleft in the rock, about two yards wide. I was first, and my Arab close on my heels, when I suddenly saw, not above fifteen yards off, a fine old buck ibex. He had heard us, and was slowly making off. I snatched the rifle from the hands of the Arab; but before I could cram a cartridge in and get a shot the old fellow had got round a corner of the cleft. It was too steep for me to follow, so I quickly divested myself of my boots, and started off up the side, telling my Arab on no account to move from where he was. On looking over the edge, I saw my beast, who had been joined by another, standing about 250 yards off, staring hard at my head, which was all he could see of me. We stared at each other for fully a minute; and, as I did not budge an inch, he seemed satisfied and walked slowly on. I waited till he had got over the top of a cliff—which I knew was very steep, as I had seen it from the Wadi in the morning—then started off quietly in pursuit. I fancied I had him in a corner; but not a bit of it! When I reached the edge of that precipice I could hear him climbing down underneath me. I dared not follow, so I hastily climbed down a gully close by, which led to the Wadi below, hoping thereby to cut him off before he could climb down. But I never saw either him or his mate again. They had either hidden in a cleft in the rocks or else gone off on the other side. They both had good heads, more especially the buck, whose horns shone in the sun and curled right over his back. Their coats are a beautiful soft silvery brown, shading off to white below. I was disappointed; moreover, my stockings and feet were cut by the rocks; so, as it was getting late and our water was nearly finished, I put on my boots, and we went home. We passed on the way a family of Bedawin in two little tents, three or four little black dots of children, their mother, two little kids and a puppy dog. How the latter can have got across the desert I can’t make out. We met the father later on, returning home up the Wadi, leading a camel with a cord tied through the poor beast’s nose, which was quite raw.[9]

So we have still no fresh meat in camp; but, as the Arabs say, “bukra” (to-morrow).

MEDISA, _January 15th,_ 1891.

Visited the same ground as yesterday, and examined every ravine, nook and cranny in the vicinity without success. This took about three hours; and, as I had no boots on, my poor feet were fairly worn out—also a pair of socks, which I put over my stockings to save them from being cut. This is a capital way of getting over the ground quietly, as one can tread like a cat and peep round all the corners without being observed. I had an unconquerable thirst on all to-day; and as we passed the little Arab encampment which I spoke of yesterday, we were only too glad to get a good drink of water from one of their skins. I gave them a little salt and tobacco in exchange, which gladdened their hearts. After this halt by the way, for refreshment, we passed two more Arabs leading a camel, one an old man, the other young. My Bedawin recognized them as fellow-tribesmen, Ababdi, and they ran and fell into each others arms. The younger one had his hair in plaits, hanging down all round his head, and cut off all the same length at the bottom, just like the pictures of one of Bertie’s Somalis. Neither of them had ever seen a breech-loading rifle before. They were struck with wonder at the charge going in at the wrong end. The grooving down the barrel also astonished them muchly. They went into fits of laughter as each new thing was pointed out to them. I fear they departed rather out of conceit with their own old gaspipes. I gave them each a cigarette, and lit them by means of the object-glass of my telescope and the sun. They were simply speechless with wonder; took the lens and examined it all over, and finally ended, as usual, in going off into roars of laughter. The younger man had a beautiful set of white teeth, contained in a mouth like a rat trap. When he laughed I could see right down his throat, and nearly out at the other side of his head.

MEDISA, _January 16th,_ 1891.

It blew hard in the night, and I feared for my tent several times; but nothing happened. Determined to spend an idle day to-day, so did not leave camp till 11 A.M., when I sauntered off alone to the camel pool in the ravine. There I sat for some time watching the dragon flies depositing their eggs in the water. I counted one lay 130 odd eggs in less than five minutes. Presently two lizards made their appearance and looked wonderingly at the intruder. I sat quite still; and at last, after shying several times, they scrambled down the rocks and came to drink head downwards at the edge of the pool close to my feet. Presently two fat mice came out of a crack in the rock and quenched their thirst. They did not seem at all afraid, though I could have kicked them easily. A pair of eagles came sailing over my head at the top of the ravine as I sat there. Such fine birds, breasts pure white, as also the top of their heads; the wings were black. I could have killed one with a good big charge of shot, but was very glad to let them go.

Having sat by the pool for an hour or so, I scrambled on up the ravine, which twisted about as I went on and became choked with huge boulders of granite, which were climbed with difficulty. In about three quarters of an hour I came to the foot of the waterfall already described. Having rested awhile and had a drink I hunted about for a way over the cliff up the side of the fall. After some time, and a stiffish climb, I reached the top in safety, and sat down again close to the head of the cascade. I had not been there many minutes when my eye fell upon some droppings. I satisfied myself that the ibex could not be far off. After a diligent search in the sand I found his tracks, which led down a neighbouring ravine towards the Wadi in which lay our camp. I crept stealthily from rock to rock, feeling sure my friend could not be very far off, and had not been creeping down the ravine for more than a hundred yards or so when, to my disgust, I heard a shot fired lower down the ravine in front of me. I hurried down to find my Bedawi had just killed a fine buck ibex,—the very one I was after. It appears he had come up the ravine to look for me, fearing I had lost my way in the mountains. He had taken his gun and had come on the ibex feeding in the ravine quite unconscious of danger. He got a pot shot at about fifteen yards; so the old gaspipe has beaten the breechloader after all!

We got back to camp at sunset and, as my Arab had to go off to the water to fill our skins, I set to work and had the skin off before dark. The horns are fair for an African ibex; and, what is more, we have now plenty of fresh meat in the camp. I have given strict orders that all offal left over, and any pieces of meat, are to be buried in a deep hole, so as to prevent unpleasant smells. I find a “Wallace” spade invaluable on expeditions of this sort, as it can be turned to so many purposes. I consider them the most useful tool ever invented.

MEDISA, _January 17th,_ 1891.

I spent a long day in the mountain;—a very hot one, too, as there was no wind and the sun was overpowering. Found signs of ibex in several places, but saw no beasts at all. We reached a great height to-day, and got a fine view of the surrounding mountains. This, of course, entailed a stiff climb down again. My Bedawi is as nimble as a cat. An Arab brought in a fine ibex head. He killed the beast yesterday not far from here. I have now thoroughly explored all the mountain to the east of our camp, and to-morrow start in the other direction. When Powney arrives, probably next Thursday, we shall shift camp a day’s journey farther into the mountains. There is a pool there, and I hear from some of the Bedawin that there are more ibex there.

I caught a spider as big as a mouse crawling up inside my tent, such a loathsome brute. He was consigned to a tin of boiling water. There are lots of ants in camp, some nearly an inch long; so far they have not bitten any of us. Two little waterwagtails live here, and they are as tame as dogs. They are getting quite fat on the hundreds of flies.

MEDISA, _January 18th,_ 1891.

Spent the morning in skinning the ibex head, and in making an oven, as our bread is finished; but we have lots of flour. I dug a hole in the sand and lined it with the flattest stones hereabouts, putting a big one at the bottom and a similar one as a lid at the top. The oven when finished was like a hat box let into the ground. We then lit a big fire inside, and after about an hour, when the pit was hot, we raked out the ashes and put in the dough in “fids,” like penny buns. We put on the lid, covered the whole with sand, and waited patiently for two hours. The result was excellent, and we now have a ready method of making our own bread without difficulty. The sky has been overcast for the first time since we came. It was unlucky, as I had fixed upon to-day to photograph the Medisa ravine, and the cascade at the head of it. Faragh and I scrambled up, and I took eight views; we did not get back till dusk. I am sorry to find that nearly all my photographic plates got broken on the journey, so my pictures will be limited in number.

I have got a small magnetic machine with me. This evening I took it over to the two Bedawin who were sitting by their fire in the dark. I made one of them hold one wire in his hand; the other I put into his drinking vessel and told him to drink. The poor fellow tried his best; but as soon as the water touched his lips he dropped it like a red hot poker, declaring that a devil was in the water and he would not drink. Dined on fried ibex brain and home made bread to-night; and, being Sunday, a tin of greengage jam was broached.

MEDISA, _January 19th,_ 1891.

Had a very long day in the mountains to the west of camp. We reached the water, marked on the War Office map, “Um Yessar,”[10] in about one hour from our camp. It is merely a hollow under an enormous boulder, but the water always keeps its level, and it is beautifully clear. One man only can reach down at a time, drawing the water in a wooden bowl. This well lies close to the Wadi, at the end of a magnificent cañon full of monster rocks. We scrambled up this ravine for about two hours finding great quantities of ibex droppings, but though we went as quickly as possible, we never came in sight of one. The wind now began to blow at our backs up the ravine, so we knew any beast ahead of us would merely get our wind. We therefore retraced our steps about halfway till we got to a very steep gorge leading up the mountain, out of our cañon. We set to work to climb this. It was very steep, but not difficult, as there were quantities of stones to use as steps. I was astonished to find about halfway up, growing out of a crack, one solitary little bunch of mignonette in flower. How sweet it smelt. I picked some and carried it back to camp. We saw no ibex. We now followed along the tops of the mountains till we got to the big one overlooking our camp. The tents looked like little white specks far below. After a difficult descent we reached home disappointed with our bad luck.

MEDISA, _January 20th,_ 1891.

Had two long and fruitless stalks to-day after ibex, but never got a shot, though I climbed up a precipice barefooted. It was about three times as high as Louth spire; and, when I got to the top, I fully expected to see my beast waiting for me. But he had gone, goodness knows where, and I never saw him again. The same thing happened with the other one. It is useless to stalk these brutes without a dog, as they hide amongst the rocks, and it is like hunting for a needle in a bottle of hay. I was joyfully surprised, on my return to camp, to find Powney had come, having made the journey from Kenneh in four days, travelling light and making long marches. We sat up late exchanging all the news.

An Arab came in to-day with two heads, which he killed two days’ ago in the mountain where we went yesterday. No wonder we found no game. There are too many Arabs about this place, and we have decided to visit a place two days’ further north from here, where we hear there are more ibex. We have sent also some Arabs to try to get a dog.

WADI FATIREH, _January 21st,_ 1891.

Struck our camp and reached the Kohila water at midday. Here we stopped for luncheon. Then went on in an easterly direction nearly to Fatireh, where we pitched camp in a spot which we made 2600 feet above Kenneh by aneroid.[11] The man we sent about a dog came in this evening, and has brought two Bedawin and three “varmint”-looking yellow dogs with him. We shall bargain to-morrow morning for these. It is cold up here, and all our rugs are required. I gave an Arab a cigarette to-day which made him sick like a schoolboy.

MUNFIA, _January 22nd,_ 1891.

Struck camp again and came on to this water, which we reached at about 5.30 P.M. There were two difficult passes through the mountains for the camels, and we found we are nearly one thousand feet lower than yesterday.[12] We have agreed, after a lot of bargaining to hire the two men and their three dogs for 30_s_ for ten days, to see how they get on. They began well by going off at about 3.30 P.M. into the mountain; sure enough! we heard yap! yap! yap! up the side of a valley about a mile off, which meant they had “treed” a beast of some sort. I seized my rifle, which I always carry ready slung on my camel saddle, and rushed off. I, fortunately, always carry a couple of cartridges in my waistcoat pocket. So I was soon running up the rocky slope to the foot of the mountains. Here we halted, and I took off my boots which my Arab carried in his hand. I was dripping with perspiration, but we hurried on up the face of the cliff to where we had heard the dogs. Here we found they had driven a wretched ibex into a corner. He had taken refuge in a hollow in the rock about halfway up a precipice about two hundred feet high. We crept like cats to the edge, and looked over; his horns were just visible below,—his body hidden, so that I could not shoot, though he was not above twenty feet below. We soon, however, found a place where I could creep down and hope to get a sight of him. So by slithering down on my back, and with the Arabs help, I eventually secured a position where I could see him about twenty yards on one side. He was “end on,” facing me, and looking down at the dogs, so there was little to aim at. Suddenly he saw me and raised his head,—an opportunity which I seized, and aimed well below his chin. The shot hit him just right fortunately, and he fell stone dead right to the bottom of the precipice. We now clambered round and secured the carcase from the hungry dogs who had not mauled it, but luckily contented themselves by licking up the blood. We carried our burden off, and found Powney had already pitched camp and got tea ready. We have had a few drops of rain here during the last few days, and this particular place is really quite cold. Powney sleeps in his Norsk reindeer bag, and does not find it too hot. We have got twenty days more to spend in the mountains, during which time we hope to get some sport, as there seems to be no Arabs here to disturb the game. My soldier servant fell asleep on his camel to-day and rolled off, much to everybody’s amusement.

MUNFIA, _January 23rd,_ 1891.

Powney went out to-day and visited the mountains on the Red Sea side of our camp, but saw no game. I stayed in camp in the morning and busied myself preparing the skin, head, and feet, &c., of yesterday’s ibex. I was sitting in the tent at about midday, when a “devil” suddenly came past and blew it down flat.[13] Luckily the bamboo ridge pole did not break, so we put up our home again; but presently another devil came, and blew it down a second time. We have now got guy ropes out from the tent poles and big rocks on all the pegs, so I hope we shall not get blown down again. In the evening I took my gun and visited the waterhole, distant about ten minutes walk. Our men had reported some partridges[14] (probably sandgrouse) as having been there in the morning, but none appeared when I was there. The well, which lies in a hollow at the foot of the mountains, is merely a hole scratched in the sand which contains about thirty gallons of dirty water, and is the worst we have so far seen; so dirty, in fact, that it has all to be boiled and filtered before we can use it. Hard by the well is a little stone enclosure containing a few miserable specimens of date palm, two mimosa bushes, and five Arab graves; this appears to be the Bedawi cemetery in these mountains. It is much colder here than at the Medisa camp; we are only one day from the Red Sea, which is visible from the mountain tops close by.