The Geographical Journal (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society): Volume X, No. 6 [‎103v] (59/186)

598
A JOURNEY TO SIWA IN SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER, 1896.
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of the oasis at £2000. Several modern travellers have visited Siwa, including Dr.
Rholfs, M. Bricchetti, and a journalist, Mr. Ward, who did not succeed, however,
in gaining admission to the inner town. As circumstances favoured me in this
respect, and as my return journey lay through new country, an account of my
expedition may be of interest.
As the safest way of undertaking a risky expedition is to take so small a party
that you excite neither attention nor alarm, I limited my equipment to the barest
necessities, for the important thing is not to look worth robbing. One night,
encamping at the Arej or el Bahrein—that hunting-ground par excellence of the
robbers of the desert—a Beduin who joined us said he wondered I was not afraid
of being murdered and robbed. “ The laugh would be all on my side when I
found you looking in my empty pockets,” I said. The Beduin, after a moment’s
thought, remarked, “But you would be dead then; ” upon which, suddenly im
pressed with the excellence of my joke, he laughed long and loud. My guide’s
sense of humour, which lay dormant on most occasions, was so thoroughly roused
on this, that it never quite fell asleep again, and he was for ever reminding me I
had said I would laugh after I was dead.
Besides this guide, my only companions were my servant Abdulla and three
camels to carry us and our slender outfit—a sack of rice and of flour, three goatskins
of water, tea, sugar, coffee, ten tins of desiccated soup, two of porridge, and a few
apples and lemons. Two skins of water would with care last us five days, without
allowing any for cooking or washing.
Mr. 0. W. Ward has given so graphic a description of the road which he
followed in his unfortunately fruitless attempt to enter Siwa, that I feel I have
nothing new to say about the route, except that at Moghara I was fortunate
enough to find some bones partly embedded in the sandstone, partly lying on
the sand, which, on being examined at South Kensington, proved to belong to
the precursor of the borse. Mr. Ward has described Ghara, that strange town
built on the summit of a rock which rises some 40 feet out of a low damp plain
surrounded by hills. It is supposed never to contain more than forty men at one
time, hut I fancy that I saw a good many more. When we arrived, every in
habitant was within the walls. At sunset the gates are shut, as in other towns,
such as Siwa, and until sunrise none may either leave or enter. We shouted for
food, and a basket full of dates was let down by a rope over the walls. Having
to encamp in the low damp ground, we should have been bled as a preparation
for the Siwa fever we should be exposed to, but the barber could not come out
that night, and next morning he was too busy to attend to us. My guide was
much disturbed, and the attack of fever I suffered from on the return journey
was always attributed to this omission. Mosquitoes did their best to fulfil the
barber’s duties. They swarm in sufficient numbers to prove annoying even to
the Arabs.
I was in a hurry to get on to Siwa, for the demands of the people for provisions
were extortionate, and my resources small. We filled our goatskins, and pushed
on. The water of the well of Ghara has a most abominable taste. It is, in fact,
scarcely drinkable until it has been at least a day in the skins. Even then it is a
wise precaution to hold your nose for some seconds after drinking.
Between Ghara and Siwa, old Dau, my guide, was terribly alarmed by our
meeting a party of Tiled Ali (“ sons of Ali ”) Beduins. Their reputation as
robbers is bad—but presumably they did not think us worth robbing, except in
the friendly way of drinking up all our coffee, which Dau, in his relief at finding
them friendly, obsequiously made and offered them.
I have until now been lucky enough to get on with the Beduins I have met.