'DIARY OF A TOUR IN THE PERSIAN GULF AND IN TURKISH ARABIA, DECEMBER, 1906 (WITH MAP)' [‎16v] (32/106)

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the sleepy Arabs to get out and harness in
the mules and load up our scanty luggage,
but they were ready at last.
Of! we started on our long and arduous The desert road,
drive, and a lively time we had of it. There
is no road, and the desert, which from
a distance looks like one dead level,
proved on more intimate acquaintance
to possess a distinctly knobbly surface.
Our Jehu propelled us sometimes at break
neck speed, at other times ambling slowly,
but our conveyance seemed to be equally
lively at all times, and the angles which it
assumed at times looked as if they must be
pretty near the over-turning point. We
changed teams four times on the road,
and the way in which these mules took
us over what was really very bad ground
indeed was wonderful. As the light ap- Its former prosperity,
peared, we were able to see all around us
the signs of the enormous former prosperity
of these regions. In every direction can be
discerned the traces of the elaborate irriga
tion system which in the early centuries
of our era, and in a still remoter age, made
Mesopotamia famed throughout the world
as a grain-producing country. The hum
mocks which everywhere break the mo
notony of the horizon mark the sites of
ancient cities ; whilst the broken bricks,
glazed earthenware and pottery which al
most everywhere litter the surface are the
sole remnants which the ravages of time
and the devastations of conquering hosts
have left of a prosperous civilization once
so renowned but now so utterly extinct.
Here, indeed, there seems to be a fine
field for the researches of the archaeologist.
The mere scratching of these ancient mounds
brings to light a rich harvest of coins
of the period of the Seleucidae and of the
Roman and Sassanian ages. With well-
ordered excavation here the historian should
be able to throw fresh light on the circum
stances of those times. Here, too, ’midst
the ashes of dead empires and the havoc
wrought by man, the philosopher may
muse on the mutability of mundane things,
the fleeting character of fame, the mockery
of riches and the vanity of power.
For something like half the distance to The pilgrims’ way.
Babylon the tracks to that place and to
the sacred cities of Kerbela and Nejef
are one and the same. All around us,
going and coming, were pilgrims, chiefly
from Persia and India, but some from re
moter climes. Numerous camels carried
in coffins the remains of devout Shiahs,
to be interred in the neighbourhood of the
sacred shrines. At the stages on the way are
numerous cafes, the owners of which drive
a roaring trade during the pilgrim season.
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