Arabia

ARABIA

OUR information in regard to the physical character of

Arabia must be chiefly derived from the accounts given by European travellers; amongst whom Niebuhr, Burckhardt, Wallin, Welsted, and Palgrave have been on this occasion chiefly consulted; and to their works the reader must necessarily be referred for a variety of details impossible to compress into a summary like the present.

Arabia is a peninsula stretching from north-west to south-east, between 30° and 12° 45' N. lat., and between 32° 30' and 60° E. long. Its form is that of an irregular parallelogram, almost a triangle indeed, bounded on the W., S., and E. by the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and the Persian Gulf respectively; on the N., where runs its narrowest limit, it joins on to the mainland of Syria. Its correct boundary in this direction would be assigned by a line drawn transversely, west and east, from Suez to the head of the Persian Gulf. But some writers, Burckhardt included, add to this extent all the Syrian desert behind Palestine, and the valleys of the Jordan and Orontes up to the village of Anah, on the Euphrates, 34° N. lat.; and then down again by the right bank of that river to where, joined by the Tigris, it takes the name of Shatt-el-Arab, and so to the Persian Gulf again. Roman geographers make Arabia the further present of Mesopotamia; and Abul-Feda, an Aleppine of the 13th century, would even bring its denomination so far north as to include Aleppo. We will, however, accept the first-mentioned as the most correct line of demarcation. According to this, the extreme length of the Arabian peninsula, from the head of the gulf of Akabah to the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb would be about 1300 miles; its greatest breadth, in 23° N. lat., from the Red Sea coast, west, to Ras-el-Hadd, east, 1500 miles; and its apex, where it joins on to the continent of Asia, rather under 900 miles.

The western coast is washed by the Red Sea. It exhibits a range of low mountains, seldom exceeding 2000 feet in height, abrupt in outline, and generally barren; between them and the sea is a narrow and sandy strip fringed along the margin with coral reefs. Its aspect from the sea is almost everywhere desolate in the extreme. Nor does the entire coast-line present a single harbour, properly speaking, where anything larger than an ordinary schooner could find entry; only roadsteads, the approaches to which are often rendered difficult by shoals and reefs. The Arab side of the Red Sea, especially in the southern half, is thickly studded with small islands, some of which— Kotembel and Pebel Tar in particular—are of volcanic origin. A few fishermen inhabit some of them; but none —the island of Perim, near the entrance of the Bab-el-Mandeb straits, lately occupied by a British garrison, alone excepted—are of any importance.

The south-eastern coast, extending from Bab-el-Mandeb up to Ras-el-Hadd, is not less dreary than that of Hejaz in appearance, and, like it, presents a low and barren mountain range, diversified only by jagged rocks amid tracts of sand; but it possesses several good harbours—that of Aden in particular, now a British coaling station, about 100 miles east of Bab-el-Mandeb; that of Dafar, further up; and that of Keshum; though the two last, owing to the want of traffic with the interior, now serve as mere ports of refuge. Along this shore lie several islands, the largest being that of Mozeyrah, near Ras-el-Hadd, but they are only the haunts of a few half-savage fishermen, or are wholly desert.

The third coast, reaching from Ras-el-Hadd to the top of the Persian Gulf, is of a more cheerful character. Its easterly half, from Ras-el-Hadd to Cape Musandam, is in general fertile, well-cultivated, and backed up by the lofty forest-sprinkled chain of Jebel Akhdar, or the “Green Mountain.” Here is situated the excellent harbour of Mascat, one capable of admitting the largest vessels to an almost land-locked shelter; besides other smaller but secure ports. Passing Cape Musandam to the west and north, the coast, though low and sandy in some places, is in others palm-fringed and cultivated; and the neighbourhood of the shallow harbour of Kateef, opposite Bahreyn, is especially fertile. Near the head of the gulf is the harbour, a very good one, of Koweyt, called also Grane. It furnishes the best ships and sailors of these seas. Many islands stud the Gulf Ormuz, famous in Persian and, later, in Portuguese history. Near the narrow entrance, by Cape Musandam, not far off, extends Iishm, a large and fertile island; higher up lie side by side the sister islands of Bahreyn, Menaneh, and Moharrik, where commence, and continue eastward all along the neighbouring coast of Katar, the most productive pearl fisheries in the world, But countless shoals and reefs render the navigation of the Persian Gulf scarcely less dangerous than that of the Red Sea; storms, too, often arise suddenly on its waters, and shipwrecks are of frequent occurrence.

Arabia, taking it as a whole, cannot be called a fertile country. Its general features are those of an elevated table-land, backed up by low mountains to the west, and gradually rising in the direction of the east and south, where we find it bordered by a second and loftier mountain range. The mountains, if we except Jebel Akhdar in Oman, are almost wholly barren on their sea side; but are occasionally fertile enough on their inner ranges, especially in Yemen and the southerly districts. Their outlines are rugged and precipitous to a degree that, joined with the refraction of an over-heated atmosphere, gives them from a distance an appearance of being of a much greater height than they really are. Behind them lies an uninterrupted ring of sterile desert, broadest on the south and east, where it expands into a huge waste of burning sand; narrower towards the west and north, where it is more rocky in its character. Within this belt rises a series of table-lands,, undulating in long slopes, and intersected with deep valleys; the former rich in pasturage, the latter in field and garden produce. This central plateau constitutes about one-third of the total superficies of the peninsula; the desert ring another third; the coast ranges make up the rest.

In describing Arabia, the ancients, whose knowledge on the subject was slight, were accustomed to lay down an imaginary tripartite division, founded on the natural qualities of those districts with which they were more or les3 acquainted; and accordingly portioned off Arabia into Petraea, Deserta, and Felix, or the Stony, the Desert, and the Happy; without, however, assigning any very distinct boundaries to these regions. More modern geographers, Eastern and European, have, with better but still inadequate information, either multiplied or confounded the main divisions of the peninsula. Much indeed of its surface is even now unknown to us, except by the uncertain hearsay of Arab narrators. However, the ground-plan laid down by Niebuhr, the most accurate and painstaking of travellers, is substantially correct, and has been so often confirmed, never invalidated, by later discoveries, that we may safely follow its indications.

Beginning from the north-west, the first district we meet with is that of the Sinaitic peninsula, a small triangle having its apex on the Red Sea, its base on Palestine, and its sides formed by the Gulf of Suez on the west, and that of Akabah on the east. It is a mere collection of naked rocks and craggy precipices, intersected by long narrow defiles and sandy valleys, in which tamarisk bushes, dwarf acacias, thorny shrubs, and some kinds of euphorbia, are almost the only vegetation; in a few favoured spots a cluster of wild date-palms may occasionally be met with; and the scanty soil after the spring rains becomes sprinkled over with thin blades of grass that the summer suns soon wither. Running water, except a few rivulets, the result of the spring or autumn rains, none of which outlast the summer, there is none; but in its stead the traveller meets with a stagnant and brackish pool here and there under the shelter of some overhanging rock, or a not less brackish well. In the centre of this dreary district rises the famous mountain group, one particular summit of which, though not the highest, is conjectured to have been the Biblical Sinai. At its foot lies Wadi Feyran, a valley several miles in extent, and the only tolerably fertile piece of ground in the whole region. The climate, allowing for the increase of heat consequent on a southerly latitude, resembles in the main that of Syria,—rainy in the winter and early spring, with passing storms in autumn; at other times it is uniformly dry and clear. The summer temperature reaches in the valleys, and particularly in the great desolate gully called the “Ghowr,” which is a continuation of the Dead Sea hollow, a height of 118° Fahr, in the shade; during the night it often falls to 70°, or even lower. Winter is cold, but ice and snow seldom occur except upon the heights, where the Sinai group in particular becomes snow-capped every year for a period varying from a few days to over two months. The atmosphere is healthy, except in autumn and in early spring.

Between the gulfs of Akabah and Suez the geological formations are almost exclusively plutonic or volcanic,— the latter occupying in general a lower range than the former; metamorphic belts, chiefly of gneiss and slate, are also to be met with. Basalt and greenstone are the most usual volcanic forms, and the subterraneous action that once produced them does not yet seem to be wholly exhausted, for hot springs are of frequent occurrence throughout the region, and earthquakes, accompanied by loud underground noises, are by no means uncommon. The hot wells near Suez, called “Eyoon Moosa,” or the “Fountains of Moses,” are well known; as also are those entitled “Hammam Pharaoon,” or the “Bath of Pharaoh,” the waters of which resemble in their constituents those of the Dead Sea. These volcanic phenomena cease, however, in the zone to the east of Akabah, where rises the great and barren mountain range of Shera (the “Seir” of the Bible), a system wholly jurassic in its composition, though its strata lie at various and often at abrupt angles.

The plants and animals tenanting this district are, with slight modifications, common to the next, where, however, they in general obtain a fuller development, and under which they may accordingly be more appropriately described.

The second geographical district is that of the Hejaz, lying between 28° and 21° N. lat. along the eastern shore of the Red Sea, and extending inland for a distance varying from sixty to a hundred and fifty miles. It consists of a continuation of the Sherâ mountain range, with a narrow sandy slip of level ground towards the sea, and a hilly plateau on the inland side, broken by bare and fantastic rocks. Its surface is, with few exceptions, barren; stony to the north, sandy to the east and south; what little irrigation it possesses is wholly from wells, deep sunk and brackish; the spring rains supply a few streams that soon dry up in summer. Along its length lie the great Syrian and Egyptian pilgrim-routes, mere camel tracks, of which the direction is determined by the scanty wells and a few villages. In the neighbourhood of Medinah alone, 25° N. lat., and at the station of Kholeys, a few days’ journey north of Mecca, is any considerable cultivation to be found, the result of springs; elsewhere all is drought and sterility.

The southernmost extremity of this region, marked off as the “Haram” or Sacred Territory, but in its physical characteristics identical with the rest, contains the town of Mecca. South-east of this tract rises the upland district called “Jebel Kora,” or “Mountain of Villages,” fertile and copiously watered; celebrated too for the excellence of its fruits and the salubrity of its climate; whereas the Hejaz, particularly along its western or seaward slope, has the reputation of being unhealthy and feverish. Due south of Mecca the mountains rise still higher, up to the precipitous fastnesses of Jebel Aseer, intersected by countless narrow but fertile valleys.

With Hejazwe may also reckon, topologically speaking, the oases of Jowf and Douma, situated to the north-east, both formed by broad and abrupt depressions in the inland plateau, and surrounded by a wide-spread wilderness of rock and sand. The geological formation of this region is chiefly calcareous and jurassic, though isolated traces of volcanic outbursts are seen near Medinah and Mecca; some also of the wells in the Hejaz—that of Zemzem, for example, at Mecca—are tepid; and one distinct eruption of lava is stated to have occurred in the neighbourhood of Medinah as recently as the middle of the 13th century.

Of plants there is an endless variety, but insufficiently known, for Arab botany has yet to be investigated. “Samh,” a small mesembryanthemum, from the grain of which the Bedouins prepare a sort of porridge that serves them in lieu of bread; “Mesaa,” a thorny bush that bears a subacid berry not unlike a currant in appearance and flavour; “Nebek,” the Rhamnus lotus of botanists; many kinds of euphorbia, absinthium, and the bitter colocynth, used by the Arabs for medicine, grow wild everywhere. The tamarisk or “Talh,” the southern larch or “Ithel,” the chestnut, the sycamore, and several other trees, the wood of which is, however, too porous and brittle for use as timber, are natives of Hejaz; so also is the w ild dwarf date-palm, the almond, the pomegranate, and the “gum-arabic” tree, a graceful and delicate acacia. Fine grass, intermingled with various aromatic herbs, springs up in patches between the stones and among the sand; but the w ant of sufficient rainfall and the dryness of the atmosphere prevent any really profitable vegetation, except in the few oases already mentioned. Taking it as a w hole, the Hejaz is, with the exception of the actual and rccc∙g-nised desert alone, the most hopelessly sterile district in the whole Arabian peninsula.

Following the Red Sea coast down to its southernmost extremity at Aden, we have in view the third great geographical section, that of Yemen. It includes two regions, sea-shore and inland, the former of which is commonly called the “Tehamah.” This is a wide strip of coast left by the mountain chain, which, continuing on from the Hejaz, runs down as far as Aden, but hereabouts recedes somewhat to the east, thus forming an arc, in the curve of which lies the Tehamah. The mountainous district extends far inland, and gives out several minor branches, some of which reach about three hundred miles to the east.

Tehamah is, as might be expected from its topical and geographical conditions, a very hot region; it is one also of but moderate fertility, though the soil, an agglomeration principally of coral debris, is less absolutely barren than that of the Hejaz. The rains here are periodical, their fall coinciding with the epoch of the Indian monsoon; they give rise to numerous torrents, that traverse the plains, and gome of which hardly dry up throughout the year. The coast-line is indented by several small harbours and roadsteads; intricate coral reefs render the approach everywhere difficult, often dangerous.

Yemen, under which name the whole south-western quarter of the peninsula is popularly included, possesses many advantages, both of climate and soil, denied to the greater portion of Arabia. It is a highland country, formed by a labyrinth of precipitous hills and fertile valleys. The air is pure and even cool; the seasons are as regular as those of eastern India, and succeed each other in much the same order. No accurate survey has yet been made to determine the elevation of its mountains, some of which have been roughly, but perhaps incorrectly, estimated at five thousand feet in height; their general direction is from north-west to south-east. The largest plains, or rather plateaus, inclosed by them are that of Nejran on the north, that of Sanaâ to the south, and that of Mareb to the east, on the frontier of the great desert. The oasis of the southern Jowf, a basin-like depression occurring in the sandy waste that reaches inland from the high grounds of Yemen up to Oman, on the other side of Arabia, may also be reckoned as belonging to Yemen.

Though the mountains are well supplied with water, no considerable rivers or streams find their way from them to the Red Sea, tropical evaporation combining with the light and porous quality of the soil to dry up the torrent beds; nor do any natural lakes exist, though artificial pools and tanks, in which water is preserved all the year round, have been constructed in plenty. Indications of volcanic action, long since extinct, abound throughout Yemen, where basalt formations compose a considerable and the most fertile portion of the coffee-bearing district; in other places jurassic rock predominates, while granite occurs in patches here and there. Spar, agate, onyx, and carnelian are exported from Yemen; silver and gold are reported to have been found on its hills, but on doubtful authority.

It is in this region that Arabian vegetation obtains its most varied, as also its most valuable development. North of Medinah the parched and niggard soil, chiefly composed of marl, flint, and sand, with a supply of rain alike scanty and uncertain, produces little more than varieties of acacia, euphorbias, and thorny shrubs,—a valueless crop. But in the neighbourhood of Medinah commences the great date-palm belt that crosses the peninsula, and extends southward as far as lat. 23° in full vigour. A hundred and more varieties of this tree are said to grow in the immediate vicinity of Medinah alone: the quality of the fruit varies for each kind, as also do its size, colour, and flavour. The poorest of all, the “sihanee” date, a yellow, stringy fruit, is much eaten by the Bedouins; the “birnee” is red and succulent; the “jebelee,” an upland date, is a staple article of export. Nejd is, however, the favoured land of date-palms: every valley that intersects its vast plateaus waves with them; and the fruit, which often attains a length of two inches, with a proportionate thickness, far surpasses the best products of Hejaz in lusciousness as in size. Eaten fresh or stewed with butter, they form the staff of Arab food; and the pulp, after the kernels have been extracted, close-pressed and half dried, is exported under the name of ajweh to almost every part of the East. In general a latitude varying from 27° to 22° N., and a sufficient distance from the sea to preclude its atmospheric influences, seem to be the most favourable circumstances for bringing this fruit to perfection; and hence it comes that the produce of the Jowf and of Hareek—which, though inland, lie too far. the one to the north, the other to the south,—of the Hejaz on the Red Sea, and of Rateef on the Persian Gulf coast, is decidedly inferior to that of the inland districts of Kaseem and Nejd. Yet an exception must be made in favour of the “kliolas” date, as it is called, that grows in Hasa, an amber-coloured date of exquisite flavour, the king of dates: the tree itself that bears it is readily distinguished from every other species by the delicacy of its stem and foliage. But in the greater number of instances, whatever the variation in the fruit, the palm trees themselves are to an unpractised eye undistinguishable the one from the other.

Besides the date tree, the “doom,” a fan-leaved palm bearing a large fibrous and sweetish fruit, is not of uncommon growth in the central and southern districts; while the cocoa-nut and betel are planted, though not to such an extent as to reckon among the articles of ordinary cultivation, along the southern and eastern coast. So are also the banana, the papay, and the Indian fig; but all these are of recent importation from the opposite coast of India. Vines are cultivated throughout Arabia, and have been so from time immemorial; and though since the well-known prohibition of the Koran the grapes are no longer pressed for wine, they are in great request as an article of consumption, both fresh and dried. The best fruit is that of Yemen; Oman, where the heat is such that the vintage is gathered in April, comes next, both for the quantity and the quality of its produce. In peaches, apricots, pomegranates, and oranges, the district of Taif, near Mecca, excels all others. Senna, an article much used by the Arabs in their rough medicine, grows in the southern Hejaz and the Tehamah; so also does the balsam tree, the best of which is indigenous to the district of Safra, near Mecca; its gum is sold even within Arabia itself at a high price. The incense tree, said to be a native of Hadramaut, in the extreme south, has, strange to say, never yet been exactly identified, though its gum is a constant article of export; and the henna tree (Law-sonia inermis), used in dyeing, grows abundantly on the western coast. The cotton shrub springs up, seemingly wild, in the gullies of Nejd; but owing to the dryness of the soil and climate, does not repay extensive cultivation. Indigo is grown in many places, chiefly in the low districts bordering on the Persian Gulf.

But although the Arabs themselves consider the date-∣ palm the special pride and ornament of their country, a more general verdict would probably be given outside of Arabia itself in favour of the coffee plant. This shrub is by some supposed to be indigenous to Abyssinia; it has, however, for several centuries attained its most extensive distribution and its highest standard of produce in Yemen, where it is cultivated throughout about half of the upland district, the best quality of berry being that which ripens on the western slopes of the mountains in the neighbourhood of Sanaâ.

The plant itself is too well known to require description; it is enough here to remark that its principal flowering season in Yemen is in March. The first crop of the berries ripens in May; a second and a third crop succeed in the course of the year. The diffused atmospheric heat of an equatorial region is requisite for the growth of the coffee plant ; yet it needs also a large supply of moisture, and even of shade, to protect it from the too direct action of the sun. In order to obtain these conditions, large trees are often planted here and there among the shrubs, which are arranged on rock terraces, one above another, amphitheatre-wise, along the slopes, and are densely crowded together. The processes of gathering and drying the berries, of separating the husks, and of picking the kernels, are all performed by manual labour of the simplest kind. How the drink is prepared has been often and minutely described by travellers; the method employed is tedious, but the result infinitely surpasses that obtained in any other country or by any other method. A slightly acid and very refreshing beverage is also made from an infusion of the “kishr” or outer husk. Its use is almost confined to the Yemen; it is esteemed a febrifuge.

A small shrub, called “kâat,” is common throughout the coffee plantations; it resembles verbena in scent and growth; its leaves are chewed by the natives, much as those of tobacco are by some Europeans; the effect is that of a gentle stimulant and anti-narcotic. This plant is only found in the south-western regions, and its use is limited to them.

Next to Yemen, and lying along the coast of th⅛ Indian Ocean, from Aden to Cape Ras-el-Hadd, a distance of 1200 miles, are situated the provinces of Hadramaut and Mahrah, the former mentioned in Genesis under the name of Hazarmaveth, and more celebrated in ancient Arab chronicles, and in the notices of Strabo and Ptolemy, than it has been in later times. This coast has been visited and even partially explored by Captain Wellsted and other navigators. It presents everywhere much the same dreary appearance as that of the Hejaz and Tehamah,—a narrow iringe of sand or of equally sterile shore; beyond this rises a mountain range, varying, so far as any tolerably accurate calculations have been made, from 1000 to 3000 feet in height; its formation appears to be in many places volcanic; behind this comes a second and loftier mountain belt, jurassic in its general character, resembling the highlands of Yemen; while far beyond stretches away the great sandy desert, varied, however, where it approaches the mountain-foot, by oases of considerable fertility, among which that of Wadi Doan is said to be the most extensive. Several barren islands and reefs fringe the waste. The mountains of Hadramaut form one system with those of Yemen, but, unlike the latter, seem to be of an almost monotonous sterility. Torrents descend from them, but no rivers; nor, though lakes are mentioned in the very apocryphal records of the Arabs, has any sign of their existence been verified. The climate is intensely hot, and is said to be unhealthy, at least to strangers; the vegetation is scanty. No part of the peninsula has been less explored than this, even by the Orientals themselves; and European travellers have supplied few reliable data for what regards the physical characteristics of the interior, any more than of its inhabitants and products.

From Ras-el-Hadd to the extreme northern limits of Arabia, at the head of the Persian Gulf, the provinces of Oman and Hasa complete the sea-coast. Oman is a ountaiħous district, its principal range, that of Jebel Akhdar, or the “Green Mountain,” so called from the abundant vegetation that covers its sides, reaches an ascertained height of 6000 feet; several other minor chains run parallel with it and with the coast; the plains beneath them are well watered and fertile, though, like every other part of Arabia, destitute of running rivers or streams, the want of which is here atoned by copious wells and springs, running over into large pools, and supplying an extensive system of irrigation. The rocks are chiefly granite on their upper, limestone on their lower level; but here, too, as on the Red Sea coast, indications of volcanic action, though at a comparatively remote period, are frequently to be observed; hot springs, too, such as those known by the title of Imam Alee, near Mascat, are not uncommon. The only good harbour on this part of the coast is that of Mascat, with which the immediately contiguous part of Matrah may be reckoned. By the sea-shore the climate is intensely hot, rivalling in this respect that of Aden, and far from wholesome; among the mountains inland the air is cool and pure.

Near Cape Musandam, at about 400 miles north-west of Ras-el-Hadd, the mountains (whioh, averaging in this promontory from 2000 to 3000 feet in height, come down in precipices to the sea edge), are indented with numerous deep creeks and bays, several of which afford good anchorage and shelter,—only they are cut off by the steepness of the surrounding cliffs from inland communication. West of Musandam, and following the sweep of the great bay of Shaιjah and Katar, within the gulf itself, the coast becomes low and sandy, and henceforth offers no harbours, but mere roadsteads, often dangerous of approach by reason of the numerous banks and shoals in the sea. A few palm trees line the shore, which has a desolate appearance. Further still to the north-west, along the region of Hasa, and up to the head of the gulf, the coast continues low, but is enlivened by extensive green tracts of palm-groves and other semi-tropical vegetation. The mountains, situated a good way inland, and not exceeding 3000 feet in their extreme height, are of jurassic formation. Copious springs, some of which are hot and others tepid, break out in many places at their base, but are again absorbed in the sand, or are dissipated by field irrigation before reaching the sea. The extreme northern angle of the gulf is comparatively desert.

Owing to the rapid interchange of heat and cold occasioned by the peculiar situation of the gulf between the torrid levels of Arabia on the one side, and the high, not unfrequently snow-capped, mountains of Persia on the other, the climate of this coast is remarkably irregular in its seasons, and subject to sudden storms of great violence, with heavy rains. It is also decidedly unhealthy; and low fevers, sometimes of an intermittent, sometimes of a typhoid type, are never absent from the villages.

Indeed the whole of the Arabian sea-shore, which we have now thus summarily surveyed, partakes more or less of the same unhealthy character, one often noticed by travellers, and experienced by some of them with fatal effect. We have seen, too, that in general outline it offers little variety, being mostly mountainous, especially in its southern part, with a narrow and rarely fertile shore-fringe; while the mountains themselves vary in height and extent, being at their loftiest and widest in Yemen and Oman, where their rich vegetation, joined to a pure air, and a climate tempered by the elevation, offers an agreeable contrast to the dissimilar qualities of the coast itself, narrower and more barren elsewhere.

We have now to consider the central plateau, or Nejd, an important region, regarded by the Arabs themselves as peculiarly their own—the stronghold of their vigorous nationality, and the birthplace of their most cherished traditions and institutions.

It is girded in on every side by a broad desert belt, which the traveller must of necessity cross before he reaches the inner region. It is this very desert that, having been often witnessed on its outer rim, but never traversed from one side to the other by Greek or Roman, or even, in the greater number of instances, by modem explorers, has given occasion to the belief that central Arabia was itself little better than an expanse of uninhabitable waste,—an idea expressed by the Arabia Deserta of the ancients, and often repeated by later writers.

This desert, on the north and north-east, where it extends from Syria and the Hejaz inwards, is a region of hard gravelly soil, from which circumstance it has derived the elastic title of “Petraea.” It is diversified here and there by belts of sand, with occasional patches of stunted bush and thin grass, indicative of moisture at some depth below; the sand, too, affords rooting for a feathery euphorbia, the “ghada” of the Arabs, a favourite browse of camels. The general height of this tract, backed up as it is by the Syrian plateau on the north, and the Sherâ, mountains on the west, appears to vary from 1000 to 2000 feet above the sea. Eastward it slowly slopes down to the level of the Persian Gulf. A long serpentine depression, beginning in the Syrian territory near Palmyra, traverses it in a south-easterly direction; this is Wadi Seihan, or the “Valley of the Wolf,” leading to the deep oval hollow of Jowf, with its oasis of palms and gardens. A more extensive but shallower depression to the west forms the oasis of Teyma, known to Hebrew chroniclers. South of Jowf and Teyma the desert changes its stony to a sandy character, and its surface is heaped up by the winds into vast ridges, called the Nefood or “passes,” not to be crossed without some danger; for, besides the almost absolute want of water, a few scanty and brackish wells of which, separated one from the other by intervals of 60 or more miles, alone exist, it is here that the “simoom,” or poison wind, often blows—a phenomenon entirely distinct from the customary “shelook,” or sirocco, of the south, much as a hurricane differs from an ordinary gale, though the two have been occasionally confounded in popular writings. The simoom is a peculiar condition of the atmosphere, resembling in all essential points a cyclone. As in the cyclone, the central space, or the simoom itself, is calm, but is occupied by a gas unfit for respiration; while round this as a centre, slowly travelling on, there eddy violent gusts of heated air, like those of a furnace, though it is not to them, but to the comparative vacuum which they surround, that the simoom owes its suffocating qualities. It approaches slowly amid the whirl of air currents that precede it for some distance; its violet colour announces it when actually near. During its presence the only chance of preserving life till the mephitic vapour has passed over, is found in covering the face with a cloth and lying prone on the sand, thus to inhale what little atmospheric air still exists in the upper ground stratum, and thus to maintain the breath till the period, varying from two to ten minutes, of the poison column be gone by; meanwhile the feeling in the chest is that of suffocation, and that in the limbe as if molten iron were being poured over them. Camels instinctively bury their muzzles in the sand during the simoom; but horses are said not to possess the same preservatory instinct, and to perish in consequence. The precise nature of the phenomenon, and its origin, are subjects of conjecture; but its general character, that of an eddy of heated atmosphere around a central space occupied by a deleterious gas, the whole travelling at a slow rate, and generally from south or east to north and west, is not to be mistaken.

South of the Nefood begins a series of granite hills, at first cropping up as mere isolated rocks through the sand, then increasing in extent and height till they coalesce and form the two parallel chains of Jebel Aja and Jebel Solma, both of which cross two-thirds of the peninsula from N.N.E. to S.S.W. The highest peak of either does not seem to exceed 4000 feet above the sea-leveL Between them and around their base extend broad and well-peopled valleys. The irrigation is wholly artificial and from wells, which here yield an abundant supply. The water is brought up from an average depth of 20 or 30 feet. The climate of this region, though heated by the neighbouring desert, is remarkably healthy, and the air extremely pure.

Passing this mountain-belt, we find a second depression, still following the same general direction, namely, from N.N.E. to S.S.W., wide and fertile, a land of palm-trees, gardens, and wells; the soil is here and there streaked with sand, but no mountains or even rocks of considerable size occur anywhere. Towards the east the level of this region gradually rises upwards to the Toweyk range, by which it is ultimately shut in. Westward it slopes downwards, and at last opens out on the Hejaz near Medinah. The general level is low, not exceeding 1000 feet above the level of the sea, and the temperature hot; it is altogether the most productive, but at the same time the least healthy region of central Arabia. Water abounds throughout the greater part of its extent, at a level of only a few feet below the ground, and occasionally collects on the surface in perennial pools, none of which are, however, large enough to deserve the name of lakes. The most thickly peopled section of this valley is called Kaseem.

North-east of it rises the mountain chain of Toweyk, running almost due south, and keeping at a distance varying from 100 to 200 miles from the Persian Gulf. This constitutes the backbone of the Arab peninsula, which rises up to it first by a rapid ascent from the coast, and then by a succession of more gently graduated plateaus and valleys from the east and west. Thus the wider half of the peninsula itself lies, not, as has been erroneously stated, to the east, but to the west of the principal watershed. The Toweyk or “complication” chain, so called from the labyrinthine character of its numerous gullies and gorges, is a broad limestone table-land, and at no point exceeds, so far as has been roughly estimated, the limit of 5000 feet in height; it covers an extent of 100 and more miles in width; its upper ledges are clothed with excellent pasturage; and its narrow valleys shelter in their shade rich gardens and plantations, usually irrigated from wells, but occasionally traversed for some short distance by running streams. Except the date-palm, the “ithel” or larch, already described, the “markh,” a large-leaved spreading tree, the wood of which is too brittle for constructive purposes, and some varieties of acacia, the plateau produces no trees of considerable size; but of aromatic herbs and bright flowers, among which the red anemone or “shekeek” is conspicuous, this region is wonderfully productive,—so much that Arab writers justly praise the sweet scent no less than the purity and coolness of its breezes. The simoom or poison wind of the low lands and deserts is here unknown; even the sirocco, when it occurs, is comparatively bearable. No signs of volcanic action or hot springs are found within this region, and the mountain strata are ordinarily horizontal; the sides of the plateaus are, however, very abrupt, often forming precipices of 200 to 300 feet in height, cut out in chalky rock. These are due to water action from torrential rains that frequently fall in spring and autumn.

Immediately at the foot of. the eastern slope, which is much steeper than the western, lies a slip of desert, separating the highlands from the coast regions of Hassa and Kateef. The northerly part of the Toweyk plateau contains the great province of Sedeyr, the healthiest district in all Arabia: the western slope is occupied by the province of Woshem, running down to Kaseem. South of Sedeyr is the province of “Ared” or “The Broad;” it includes the highest and widest table-lands of Toweyk. Thence the range trends away, taking the ordinary S.S.W. direction of the alternate elevations and depressions that furrow the Arab peninsula; here, though keeping the same geographical character, it changes its name into that of “Ared,” and, like a long limestone wall, stretches almost to Mecca. Parallel to it, on the south, extends the long and barren valley of Dowasir, ending in the district of Kora, Shahrem, and Soley-yel; broken ground,—the passes of which lead to Nejran and Yemen. The upland labyrinth of Aflaj, south of Ared, forms the extreme elbow of this mountain formation. Just below it, and constituting its south-eastern slope, comes Yemamah, a hot but fertile province, with numerous wells and copious irrigation. Further yet to the south rise the fantastic peaks of the Hareek mountains, granite ridges, not over 2000 feet in height, but making up to the eye for their want of elevation by their strange abruptness: they crop out like the mountains of Shomer on the north, from the first sands of the Great Desert, and form an island, as it were, of irrigation and tillage, though both comparatively scant, and scarcely able to maintain themselves against the excessive heat amid the desolation around.

Beyond Hareek, or “Burning,” as the name means, to the south, as also behind Wadi Dowasir and its neighbourhood, lies the great Arab desert or Dahna, “The Red” as the Arabs call it,—a vast extent of sand, said to cover nearly 50,000 square miles, and only jotted here and there at far intervals by a few clustered bushes or dwarf palms, indicative of moisture below the surface, else wholly desolate. Its surface is ribbed into huge sand waves, the principal ones being from north to south,—that is, al right angles to the prevailing wind, which is here the east; but these main waves are again crossed, intersected, and jumbled with other less regular undulations, the work of more variable breezes.

But neither here nor elsewhere in Arabia do those clouds or columns of moving sand, the terror of caravans, appear, that have been fabled by travellers and poets. Tracks are indeed speedily covered and effaced, to the great annoyance and occasional danger of the wayfarer; but neither he nor his beast run the least risk of being thus buried alive. Hunger, and, still more, thirst, are sufficient guardians of a region, to which, however, Arab fancy has attributed the additional protection of evil spirits and monsters of death.

This greater desert, the “Roba el Khaliyeh” or “Empty Space” of geographers—the “Dahna” or “Crimson” of modern Arabs, so called from the prevailing colour of its heated sands,—extends to Yemen and Hadramaut on the south-west, south, and south-east, and to Oman on the east. It is separated, however, from the northern half of the waste-ring that girdles Nejd by the continuation of Wadi Dowasir and Shahran, up to the mountains of Tayef, near Mecca; and this is the only line by which the plateau of Nejd can be reached from the coast without actually crossing the sandy or stony wilderness. Lying as it does on or within the tropics, the heat of this great desert is said to be fearful by day, and, owing to the general low level, to be scarcely mitigated at night. But it is never traversed in its full width, not even by Bedouins; and little or no credit can be attached to the relations of those who pretend to have explored it, and to have found wonders in its recesses.

East of Hareek rises a succession of lofty ridges, covered by a deep layer of sand, through which black rock occasionally pierces. This region bears the name of Akhaf, and connects the watershed of Toweyk with the high mountains behind Oman. It is, like the Dahna, unro-claimed desert; but the recesses of its valleys conceal a few wells and springs, so that travellers from Nejd sometimes take this route, the most difficult but the shortest, when on their way to Oman. Immediately north of the Akhaf commences the lesser Dahna, a desert resembling in every way its homonym of the south, only narrower; its breadth in many places not exceeding 50 or 60 miles, This long and dreary strip runs up the whole way along the easterly side of the Toweyk plateau, till it merges in the northern or stony waste land at the head of the Persian Gulf.

Throughout the highlands of Nejd the climate, though often hot by day, is cool and pleasant at night; the spring and the autumn rains seldom fail in their seasons; and the soil, where not artificially irrigated, produces excellent pasture,—where irrigated, it renders very tolerable garden produce and field crops. Storms of thunder and lightning are of rare occurrence, and the tornadoes that from time to time visit the Arabian coasts are here unknown. The prevailing, as also the most refreshing winds, are from the east and north-east; the south and west winds are heated and unwelcome. Epidemic diseases are rare, and only one visitation, and that not a severe one, of cholera is on record within Nejd. Between Yemamah and Hareek runs the valley called Aftan, which appears in some maps as the bed of an imaginary river flowing nearly across Arabia into the Persian Gulf. But the downward slope of the valley itself is not from west to east, but in the reverse direction, and at a distance of more than 100 miles from the sea it is absolutely closed in by the sand-heaped ridges of Akhaf. Did the mountains of central Arabia furnish a water supply sufficient for a river, large or small, its course would of necessity be directed, not towards the Persian Gulf, but the Red Sea. The copious springs that break out at the foot of the Toweyk mountain range above Hasa, not far from the gulf, are all of subterranean origin; and though they are evidently the off-drainings of the rainfall of Nejd, they have no connection with the very scanty running or standing waters of the surface of the great plateau.

Summing up,—Arabia may roughly be divided, as to its surface extent, into a third of coast-ring and mountains, part barren, part either cultivated or susceptible of being so; another third of central plateau, also tolerably fertile; and a third of desert circle, intervening, with only one gap, that in the latitude of Mecca, between the first and the second. The central space, whether plateau or desert, varying in height from 1000 to 3000 feet above the sea, possesses three important mountain ranges,—two transverse, namely, Jebel Shomer and Jebel Ared, and one vertical, that commences with Toweyk, and is continued by the Akhaf,—these latter being the watershed of the peninsula, the general rise of which is from west to east. The highest mountain peaks—those, namely, of Jebel Aklι-dar in Oman—do not apparently exceed 6000 feet.

In a description of the animals of Arabia the first place is undoubtedly due to the horse, which, though the opinion is unsupported by scientific evidence, has by some been supposed to be indigenous to the peninsula. As a fact, it is here that this animal attains its highest perfection: not, indeed, that of size; for a true Nejdee of the best and purest breed seldom reaches and never perhaps exceeds fifteen hands in height; nor that of mere speed, for a trained European racer would easily distance a thoroughbred Arab on any ordinary course; but for perfection of form, symmetry of limb, cleanness of muscle, beauty of appearance—for endurance of fatigue, for docility, and for speed maintained to distances so long as to appear incredible, the Nejdee horse acknowledges no equal. Tho animal is too well known to require minute description on the present occasion; but it is important to have a clear idea of the principal divisions of its race and kind, which have been strangely and even injuriously confused by many writers.

Tradition assigns the origin of the present Arab stock to Yemen, but historical records, dating as far back as the 5th century, show that the best quality and the greatest number of horses were then to be found exactly in the same district where they now exist, namely, in Nejd. Yet, even there a horse is by no means an article of everyday possession, or of ordinary and working use. War and parade are in fact almost the only occasions on which it is employed; and no genuine Arab would ever dream of mounting his horse for a mere peacefid journey, whether for a short or a long distance. Hence horses are the Almost exclusive property of the chiefs, who keep them for themselves, and often for the equipment of their armed retainers, and of a few wealthy or distinguished individuals, who regard them as an investment of capital or an ornament of social rank. Thus, no motive tempts the horseowner to encourage the production of coarse and inferior breeds; while, on the other hand, every circumstance tends to render the greatest purity of blood and perfection of wind desirable; hence it is not strange that the Nejdee horse has to all appearance undergone no degeneration, though he has also probably received no improvement within historic times. Military enterprise and the centralisation of wealth and power enabled the Wahhabee chiefs of recent date to collect and rear a greater number of horses than had perhaps ever before been possessed by a single Arab potentate; and the stables and pastures of the sultan of Derey ’ seah may well have, as has been stated, contained 10,000 horses, since those of his much-enfeebled successor at Riad are told off at nearly half that amount. But if we allow 20,000 for the total census of pure breeds in Nejd, a full allowance, and assign an equal number to the rest of the peninsula, thus making 40,000 in all, we shall still be rather in danger of an over than of an under statement.

No distinction of breed is recognised in Nejd itself; each animal is classed according to its individual merits. Nor is a horse, nor, a fortiori, a mare, ever disposed of by sale; gift, war-capture, or legacy being the only recognised methods of transfer where a genuine full-blood is concerned. Consequently, no commercial export of Nejdee horses has ever been established; and whoever professes to sell or boasts of having bought one, may be unhesitatingly set down as either deceived or deceiving. In three manners, however—two occasional merely, and one customary— has the Nejdee breed been to a certain extent transplanted beyond the actual limits of Arabia.

The first of the occasional or chance means by which tne horses of Nejd have from time to time found their way to foreign stables is the fortune of war. Thus, for instance, Ibraheem Pasha, after overrunning Arabia in 1817, carried away to Egypt with him several hundreds of the best Nejdees, both horses and mares; so that Egypt, though only for a while, became next to Arabia the most fortunate land in this possession; and even now, after the purity of the stock has long since been lost in the Nile valley, the effects of its transitory infusion may be distinctly traced. Next, Ibraheem s vicegerent, Khoorsheed Pasha, followed his master’s example; the Ottoman Turks have been, though not often, equally lucky, and the distinctive points of Nejdee blood may now and then be observed in more than one stable at Constantinople.

Secondly, a few thorough-bred Nejdees have crossed the frontier as presents. In this manner, Teysul, the late monarch of Nejd, sent forty head from his own stable as an honorary tribute to the reigning Ottoman sultan, Abdel-Azeez; and similar offerings have been now and then made, as fear or other motives may have dictated, to different other governments, and even to distinguished individuals. But mares are never given away thus; only stallions.

The third and customary method is by admixture of the race. Nejdee stallions are yearly hired out by then-owners, and sent into the pastures of Jebel Shomer, of Syria, and even of Mesopotamia, there to breed with the mares of those countries, belonging to the Arabs of Shomer, or to the Anezeh, or the Ru’alah tribes of Syria, and the like. These mares are themselves of Arab though not of Nejdee stock; the proportion of good blood varying in them from a half up to three-fourths nearly, but none are of absolutely pure race. It is to the offspring of such by Nejdee stallions that the divisions of breed much insisted on by several European writers, and actually recognised throughout Mesopotamia and Syria, but almost, often wholly, unknown even by name in Nejd itself, apply. These divisions are principally five,—the Koheylee (said to be the purest of all), the Toweysee, the Manekee, the Sak-lawee, and the Julfawee; besides which, and branching out from them, there are infinite minor subdivisions. Again, these are the breeds often authenticated for purchase by written pedigrees and witness-papers of descent, as described in books; and which may occasionally be seen in Syria, but never in Arabia, or even elsewhere, when the bargain is to be concluded between two Arabs themselves. The only use of such documents is for strangers. These, too, are the breeds from which European stables, even regal and imperial, have often obtained a supply of noble but never absolutely pure-blooded animals, frequently at prices proportioned to the imagined difficulties of the purchase, or the affected unwillingness of the cunning owner—(Arabs are very cunning)—to part with his beast. The best market for these mixed breeds is at Baghdad; the second is in the neighbourhood of the town of Hama in Syria; inferior animals are sent to the port of Koweyt, on the Persian Gulf, whence they are shipped for India.

To return to the genuine Nejdee. Reared under an ' open shed, and early habituated to the sight of men, to the sound and glitter of weapons, and to all the accessories of human life, the colt grows up free from vice or timidity, and even acquires a degree of intelligence that surprises a stranger. Barley and dates are the chief stall provender; but the grass of the pasture-grounds, in the selection of which much care is taken, is the ordinary nourishment of an Arab horse. Of water the allowance is always kept purposely scant. A good Nejdee will canter for four-and-twenty hours in summer-time, and eight-and-forty in winter, without once requiring drink. Raw meat, dried, is occasionally given in small quantities when extra exertion is required; lucerne grass is employed for lowering the tone. Geldings are very rare. The colour that most frequently occurs is grey; then comes chestnut; then white and sorrel; mottled grey and black are now and then to be found; dark bay never.

Colts are ridden early—too early, indeed—in their third or even second year, and are soon broken in to a steady walk, to a canter, and to the ambling pace which is a special favourite with Arab riders; racing, an Arab amusement from time immemorial, and the game of “jerzed,’’ a kind of tournament or mock fight with blunt palm-sticks, highly popular throughout the peninsula, complete the training both as to wind and pace. Saddles are seldom used in Nejd, and stirrups never, but both are occasionally employed in ths Hejaz and Yemen. So it is also with bits, the place of which is taken in Nejd by halter rones the real guidance of the animal being almost wholly effected by the pressure of the rider’s leg and knee. Shoes, too, are of rare occurrence, nor are they needed in the light and sand-mixed soil of the central provinces; on the other hand, the hoofs are often rubbed with grease, to counteract the drying effects of the heated ground. Of all niceties of grooming, docking and clipping excepted, Arabs are masters; and their natural kindness to animals, a quality which they share with most Orientals, together with the care which every reasonable man bestows on a valuable article of property, ensures to an Arab horse a good treatment at the hands of his owner. But Arab horses do not commonly enter tents, nor play with women and children, nor, in a general way, do they share family meals, nor are they habitually kissed and cried over, as the imagination or credulity of some narrators has suggested. An Arab, flying for his life, has indeed been known to give the only morsel of dry bread about him to his horse rather than eat it himseif,—an act in which self-preservation had probably as large a share as affection. Lastly, the standing prohibition of horse-selling from Nejd has really nothing more romantic in it than a narrow-minded application of the principles of protective monopoly; in other cases, reluctance to conclude a bargain simply indicates that the offer made was considered insufficient.

Below the horse in popular estimation and market value, but far above him in general utility so far as Arabia is concerned, comes that eminently Arab animal the camel. Of this there are many varieties: the best, swiftest, slimmest in form, and most docile to guidance, is the “hejeen,” or dromedary, sometimes also called “delool,” or “facile.” It is almost exclusively employed for riding, whereas the “ibl,” or ordinary camel, readily distinguished from the other by a coarser build, a slower pace, and a less tractable disposition, is a beast of burden, and indeed is employed for all purposes. This species is very commonly, too, kept and reared for the sake of its flesh and milk, precisely as horned cattle are elsewhere; in fact, boiled camel’s meat is the most ordinary article of animal food throughout the peninsula,—it is a flabby, tasteless dish, not unlike the poorest sort of beef; any flavour that it may possess is musky and disagreeable. The milk, on the contrary, is excellent, equal in quality and in sanitary properties to that of the she-ass, but neither butter nor cheese are made from it. The wool, which in the camels of Nejd and Oman is remarkably soft and fine, serves for making articles of dress, into which it is woven, sometimes alone, sometimes mixed with wool; it is much superior to sheep’s wool in every respect. The ordinary colour of the animal in the northern Arab provinces is a reddish brown, but in Nejd and throughout the south, lighter tints, varying from grey to white, are more common; black is extremely rare, and highly esteemed. The least valuable breeds are those of the north and west,—that is, those of the Jowf, of Shomer, of the Hejaz, and of Yemen; in Nejd, which region, from the number of its herds, is sometimes called “Omm-el-Ibl,” or “the Mother of Camels,” the species improves; but all agree in assigning the palm to the dromedaries of Oman. In fine, all over Arabia, whether among the Bedouins or the villagers, camels are the principal staple of traffic, the favourite investment of wealth, and the ordinary standard of property.

Camel or dromedary, the Arabian animal has only one hump, which increases or diminishes in size according to the general good or bad condition of the beast. On this hump the saddle—called, if a riding one,“ghabeet;” if one for baggage, “shedad ”—is placed; a halter is the only rein employed, though even this is more commonly dispensed with by the Arabs, who simply direct the animal by a kick of the heel or a blow about the neck with the “mihjan,” a small crooked stick carried in the riders hand. The average travelling pace, an amble, is between five and six miles an hour, and this a good dromedary will continue for fifteen hours out of the twenty-four during a week together. Six days in the summer, ten in the winter, form the longest period that the dromedary can continue his pace without a fresh supply of water; and hence an “ashavee” or “tenner” is the title given to the best of the kind. Two hundredweight is the average load of the Arab carrying camel.

No animal puts its owner to less expense for its keep: the thorns of the desert, dry grass, cactuses, euphorbias,— nothing comes amiss to a camel’s appetite; a ball of paste weighing about a pound, and made of barley-meal and water, is given every evening when extra work has to be done.

The average duration of a camel’s life is thirty years, that of the dromedary somewhat less; the price of either varies from about £4 to £80, according to quality, those of Oman commanding the best market. But although the camel, whether as an article of use or of sale, is far more important to Arabia than the horse, it is in intelligence and docility immeasurably inferior to the latter animal, never becoming attached to, or even, seemingly at least, acquainted with its owner; and never obeying except perforce and under protest.

Next to camels, sheep and goats form an important item of Arab wealth. The best sheep are the piebald and largetailed ones of Yemen; those of Nejd, too, are in great request on account of their flesh, which is excellent, though their wool is confessedly less fine in quality. Some districts of Oman produce a silky-haired breed not unlike that of Angorah. The least esteemed sheep are those of Hejaz and the north; but, in compensation, the goats of these provinces are longer-haired and generally better than those of the south; they are black, with long drooping ears. Spring is the shearing season in Nejd, but the wool is seldom exported, being mostly bought up for local use. From the milk of these animals butter and a white insipid kind of cheese are made: both are articles of daily consumption in Arab households.

Cattle are reared throughout Arabia, but owing to the prevailing deficiency of deep and succulent pasturage their number is not so considerable as that of the camel. Cows and oxen, throughout Nejd, Oman, and Yemen, bear on their shoulders a hump analogous to the well-known one of the so-called “Brahminee” bull; the ordinary colour is dun; their legs are slender, the horns short, and the whole stature diminutive. The kine of the northern provinces are stouter and yield more milk; they have no hump. Buffaloes also are kept in the marshy districts that occur in Yemen and Oman. They differ in no respect from the Indian breed; but, unlike oxen, these animals cannot be reckoned in the ordinary list of Arab farm stock, as they exist only under exceptional circumstances, whereas a few kine may be found in almost every village, and the irrigation of the fields and gardens is mostly done by means of oxen.

Like the horse, the ass attains its greatest excellence in Arabia, where it is more often employed for riding than for loads; indeed, in some provinces, especially in Hasa, it is the usual mount even of the wealthy. The best species is that reared in Ξasa and eastern Nejd, where these animals are generally of the purest white in colour, and stand from eleven to thirteen hands high. In pace they scarcely yield to an average horse. They are often exported and sold at high prices in Egypt or at Constantinople, a single animal fetching from £40 to £80. They are ridden in Arabia with side-saddles. Good asses are to be found also in the other districts of Nejd, in Yemen, even in the Hejaz; their ordinary colour is grey. The same animal runs wild in many of the open and mountainous regions of Arabia, and is hunted for the sake of its skin by the Bedouins; but the onager or zebra of Cutch is not met with in this peninsula.

Mules and hinnies, common throughout Syria and Mesopotamia, are extremely rare in Arabia proper, where a prejudice exists against their use.

The Arab dog differs very little from a jackal in appearance as in habits; its muzzle is pointed, its colour sandy, and its long and somewhat bushy tail is curled over the back. When domesticated, the breed improves, approaching the European wolf-dog; these animals, by training, become very tolerable indoor and outdoor guardians, both of flocks and herds and of dwellings, and in this capacity they are to be found everywhere, both in the towns and villages and in the open country, where they are not less useful to their masters than annoying to strangers. Another kind of dog, belonging to the greyhound species, and evidently of exotic origin, is often reared in Arabia; the swiftest and most enduring of this kind are from the province of Hasa. They are in great favour as harriers.

Arab cats differ in no respect from their congeners in Europe except in being rather smaller. The house-mice too are absolutely the same; but the rat is more akin to the old black species of England, now nearly extinct.

Wild animals are not very numerous in any part of Arabia proper, a fact which is sufficiently accounted for by the want of running streams and open pools, as also by the thinness of cover and forest growth; yet the records of the country make mention of the existence of some kinds of beasts which have subsequently disappeared altogether. Thus the long-maned lion, and, it would appear, a large kind of ape resembling the African gorilla, often mentioned by the early writers, are no longer to be found in the peninsula. But a small tiger, formidable from its ferocity even to man, is still met with in the wild hilly regions north of Nejran, and again in the inland recesses of the Oman mountains; while the “fahd,” or panther, belongs to no particular province; it haunts the neighbourhood of villages, and devours the smaller stock. Lynxes have been seen in the Hejaz and Nejd; wolves are common in the mountains, and sometimes descend to attack the flocks in the open plains. There are foxes too, but small and greyish in colour. The Arab hyaena is large and fierce; it is said, when pressed with hunger, to be dangerous even to men, and figures in many a story of Arab adventure. Jackals are more numerous in the northern than in the southern districts. Small black-faced long-tailed monkeys are to be met with by herds in Yemen, and even, though less often, in Nejd. A pretty little beast, the “yerbooa,” jerboa, or kangaroo-rat, burrows in the sand, and comes out to look with great curiosity on passers-by; its hind legs, long, and provided -with equally long feet and toes, are out of all proportion to the shortness of its fore-paws; its motion, especially when pursued, is like that of the kangaroo, and is performed with the help of its long sinewy tail. Its colour, partly fawn, partly white, is very agreeable to the eye. The Arabs eat its flesh, which resembles that of the rabbit.

Of the deer tribe the gazelle is the most common; it abounds not only in the open grounds, but even among the villages and near the towns. It is sometimes, but not often, hunted by the natives. Chase is more often given to the mountain goat, partly on account of its flesh, which is excellent, partly for the sake of its long recurved horns, which are like those of the Alpine Steinbock, only larger. But the hare, which is coursed -with dogs, and which resembles the European animal in every respect except size, for it is smaller, is the favourite game of the Arabs, who, unlike the Persians and Turks, have ho scruple as to the use of the meat.

The ornithology of Arabia is copious, but has been little studied. Birds of prey, grey eagles, vultures, bustards, and sparrow-hawks, abound in the open lands; while partridges, especially of the mottled kind called “kata,” are to be seen crossing the desert in quest of water by flocks; quails frequent the mountain districts in immense numbers, so also do rock-pigeons, wood-pigeons, and a species of wild guinea fowl; -wild ducks are met with in plenty along the coast. Cranes, larks, sparrows, finches, and the like, frequent the cultivated lands; so also does the hoopoe, a bird held in high honour by the Arabs on account of its traditional services as messenger between Solomon and the Queen of Sheba or Beikeys. A large mottled thrush, also considered to be of good omen, is seen everywhere. Flocks of swallows, the flight of which is invariably from the east, pay annual visits to Arabia, where they are very useful in diminishing the swarms of locusts, their favourite food; one species of this bird appears, however, to be indigenous to Yemen. Peacocks and parrots are also found in the southern provinces, and in Nejd, Hasa, and Oman; hawks are kept by many, and are carefully instructed for the purpose of falconry.

But the most remarkable bird of Arabia, and the only one which forms a regular object of chase among the natives, is the ostrich. Its extreme timidity, joined td the swiftness of its pace—for although it does not fly, it assists its running by the movement of its extended wings—renders it in vain for the hunter to attempt overtaking it on horseback; he therefore seeks to approach it generally when on its nest by artifice, and kills it by a long shot; sometimes he snares it by a running noose. The feathers, the best of which belong to the male bird, are sold at Damascus or Baghdad; the eggs are eaten, and the shells are used for Ornament. The finest ostriches are those of the neighbourhood of Shomer and the uplands of Toweyk; they are often to be seen, but at a safe distance, scudding across the sands in a file of twenty or thirty at a time.

Reptiles, except those of the lizard species, are comparatively rare in Arabia, though serpents are occasionally met with; but, except the “afai ,, and the “rukta∕ ’ both snakes of the viper class, the former brown and the latter banded, and considered the deadlier of the two, none are venomous. Boa-constrictors, resembling the Indian rocksnake, have been also seen,—none, however, large enough to warrant the wonderful stories told about them by the Arabs themselves, whose love of the marvellous often leads them beyond the limits of truth.

Insects are, however, numerous enough: little scorpions, scarce an inch in length, but capable of inflicting by their sting extreme pain, swarm in the desert sands; and large ones, four or even six inches long, infest the houses. Centipedes, too, are common; wasps and wild bees tenant the rocks; flies are troublesome everywhere, and mosquitoes on the coasts; ants of all kinds, some enormous in size and venomous in bite, are to be found here; and a very poisonous spider, called, from its double pincers, “aboo hanekein,” inhabits the crevices of old walls on the western coast, and is much dreaded by the natives. Scolopendras, too, are not rare. It is some compensation, however, for these serious yet only occasional inconveniences, that no fleas or bugs exist in any part of Arabia. But—a serious drawback—the tt ^ arda,” or white ant, the Termes fatalis of Linnaeus, is hardly less troublesome and destructive in the southern provinces than in India itself. Lastly, vast swarms of locusts, larger and darker in colour than those commonly seen further north, often infest the peninsula, and commit great ravages, especially when, as too frequently happens, their visit is in the spring or early summer. Their course is usually from east to west. However, the Arabs, by converting these insects into an article of food, make up to themselves in some measure for the damage suffered by the crops and pastures; indeed, locusts, boiled and slightly salted, are a favourite article of sale in every Arab market, but particularly in Nejd and the eastern districts.

The soil of Arabia varies according to the character of its rocky substratum. All round the coast, and to a distance corresponding with the breadth of the girding mountain chain to the interior, it is formed of volcanic and metamorphic detritus, with patches here and there of a calcareous character, due to the upheaval and decomposition of old coral banks. Such a soil cannot but be tolerably fertile, and it would be more so were the scantiness of‘rain made up for by a more systematic artificial irrigation. A second inconvenience is caused by the encroachments of the sand, which is at times drifted by the winds from the desert inland in such quantities as to become seriously injurious to cultivation. Behind the mountains the surface of the desert to the north and west is that of a gravelly expanse, thickly sown over with flint and quartz; while to the east and south it is an almost unalloyed waste of fine sand. Everywhere the rock underlies it, and there exists, of course, no possibility of utilising a space like this. But the whole of the central plateau— that is, of Nejd, Kaseem, Shomer, Yemamah, and the adjacent lands—is covered with a tolerably deep layer of calcareous earth, mixed with loam, well adapted for cultivation; the best is naturally to be found in the valleys and sheltered spots.

Whether, however, the soil be rich or poor, agriculture is, all over Arabia, very primitive in its conditions, and, above all, in its implements. The plough used by the peasants is wholly of wood and without wheels, an instrument fit for scratching rather than furrowing the ground; while in many places the earth is merely turned over with a pitchfork, which is sometimes worked by two men at a time. More skill is shown in irrigation, for whatever crop is intended, its success cannot be safely entrusted to the uncertain rain supply alone. Accordingly, the slope of the ground, whether field or plantation, is carefully calculated, and the surface divided into compartments and traversed by furrows,, each communicating with the other, and all with some large well, or, in favoured situations, cistern; while in still more fortunate but rarer spots a running stream is turned to profit. But in far the greater number of instances the irrigation is from a well, with an orifice varying from six to twenty-five feet in diameter, whence the water is drawn up in large leathern buckets, to which are attached ropes passing over pulleys, and worked by mules or oxen; these buckets, on reaching a cross-beam, turn over and empty their contents into a sloping trough that runs down to the main channel of the field or garden. Green crops, vegetables, and the like, are watered, when it is possible to do so, twice a day; date-palms only once: the porous soil soon absorbs any superfluous liquid that may have overpassed the bounds assigned to it. In ascertaining the right spot for sinking a well, in digging and coating it, as also in the construction of the small cisterns often connected with the source, the Arab peasants have by long practice acquired a not contemptible skill.

The crops most common in Arabia are, first, the date, a fruit already sufficiently described; it may, however, be remarked here that the fecundation of the female trees from the male is usually perfected by art. The produce is annual: the earliest dates ripen in May, others not till July or even August. This fruit, and the dishes made of it by pressure or with butter, are to the Arabs what corn is to more northern or rice to southern nations. Next in importance, though much more limited in extent, is coffee: very little, and that of inferior quality only, is cultivated out of Yemen. This growth has also been already described in detail. Next come the following :—Wheat, a somewhat rare and not a very remunerative crop; barley, also in small quantity;—these two growths are hardly distinguishable the one from the other by the eye, the colour and shape of the ear and beard being almost identical in each. Mi∏et is, on the contrary, largely sown, and gives an abundant return; there are several species of it; the grain, coarsely ground, is made into a sort of gruel, which appears as a daily dish in Nejd. Rice is looked on as a delicacy: it does not grow in the central uplands, but succeeds well enough in the watered coast districts, especially Hasa, Kateef, and Oman. Beans and pulse are favourite crops; they are reared in almost every part of the peninsula. Other garden plants—melons, gourds, cucumbers, salad, cabbages, onions, garlick, parsley, cumin, and the like,— are cultivated. Orchards are planted and tended in most districts; but of pruning the Arabs have little idea, though they are not unacquainted with grafting.

There being no true winter in any part of Arabia, the crops, such as they are, succeed each other all the year round; many lands bear twice, an early and a latter harvest, though of different produce. Of manuring, of the scientific rotation of crops, of weeding even, and cleaning, the Arabs have little knowledge. Reaping is generally done with the sickle,—in some places the ripened grain is torn up by the hand; threshing is performed by oxen,— winnowing by the wind, grinding by the hand-mill. To sum up, though the agriculture of Arabia is sufficient to supply its comparatively scanty population with food, it gives almost no surplus for traffic or exportation, that of coffee and dates alone excepted.

In pasture-land Arabia is, on the other hand, singularly fortunate. The very desert supplies through the greater part of its extent sufficient browse for camels; while the pasture-grass for horses, kine, and, above all, for sheep, on the upper hill slopes, and especially in Nejd, is first-rate. The only drawback is the occasional failure of the spring rains and autumn showers; when this occurs great distress is the result, and no commoner cause of contention and bloodshed arises between the Arab shepherds or “Bedouins” than the struggle to obtain, each for his own herd, the use of some yet undried well or exceptional oasis of green pasturage left fresh among the brown and withered herbage around.

In mineral products of a valuable description the Arabia of our days is singularly poor, so much so as to suggest the idea that the Arabian gold and jewels, often mentioned by classical writers, must have been brought from Yemen as from a mart or depot, not a place of production. Yet even so late as 600 a.d. the exiled monarch of Sanaa, Seyf of Yezen, could in his interview with the Persian despot Chosroes, describe southern Arabia as “a land the hills of which are of gold and its dust silver.” Nowadays nothing is found to justify or even to account for such gorgeous statements. Agates, onyxes, carnelians, and, though rarely, topazes alone are to be met with; of gold mines and precious ores not a trace. Lead is, however, more common. The richest ores of this mineral come from the mountains of Oman; it is brought down to Mascat, and exported thence by sea. A small quantity of silver is also extracted from the same mines. Cinnabar and iron occur in the Sinaitic peninsula, and sulphur has been observed here and there in the long volcanic range that reaches from Palestine to Mecca. Rock-salt is extracted from many parts of the coast range; it exists, too, in the central districts of the peninsula, where of metals, a little iron excepted, not a vestige appears.

The Arab coasts are much frequented by fish, many of unknown species. Mackarel, mullet, sole, ray, and perch swarm in the Red Sea and Persian Gulf; nor are the sheltered spots on the long line that fronts the Indian Ocean less well provided. Sharks, too, abound along the coast, and are used as food by the poorer classes; crabs and oysters occur almost everywhere. Hence fishing forms the occupation of a large proportion among the littoral population, but ignorance of salting and curing deprives its products of export value.

The pearl fisheries of Arabia alone add to the commercial riches of the country. They commence at the islands of Bahreyn, which lie immediately off the Arab shore, near the centre of the Persian Gulf, and continue east and south along the district of Katar for a distance of nearly 200 miles, after which the banks are lost in deep soundings. The most productive shoals are those between the islands of Halool and the coast of Katar; the fishing season commences with the spring, and lasts all through the summer. Most of the villages along the coast are wholly inhabited by divers, Arabs and negroes, who by long practice can remain under water a space of two minutes at a time; the depth they reach does not exceed fifteen fathoms, and generally falls much short of it. The oysters are opened on shore, and the pearls carefully sorted and counted by officials stationed for the purpose, as a heavy duty, equalling 20 per cent, of their value, is levied on the spot, though no further dues are taken on exportation. Some of the pearls are of great size and value. The total annual produce is roughly estimated at about £250,000, but probably exceeds that sum; a portion goes to India; another portion up gulf to Baghdad, whence it is distributed over Syria, Turkey, and Persia. The divers themselves are the worst off, as their occupation induces various congestive diseases and premature old age.

Pearls are found, too, in other bivalve shells of these seas, and are extensively sold, though at a lower price than those of the oysters. Mother-of-pearl is also common, and is an ordinary article of export, especially to Syria and Egypt; so are also occasionally the corals and ornamental shells with which these seas abound.

In mechanical arts the Arabs are, as a rule, extremely deficient, though favourable exceptions exist in some districts. The Bedouin or pastoral population know little else than the tanning of leather and the weaving of coarse fabrics, such as articles of overdress, tent coverings (which the women generally make of goat-hair), headbands, and the like. In most villages and towns of Nejd, one or more blacksmiths, whose work is of the rudest possible description, are to be found; occasionally an armourer, a few sandal-makers and workers in leather, with several weavers,—none skilled. Throughout the Hejaz these professions exist, but at a still lower standard; but in Yemen greater nicety of workmanship is to be met with; and gold and silver smiths, often, however, not Arabs but strangers by race, get a living in the towns. Formerly Yemen was celebrated for its woven stuffs; this manufacture is now, however, in anything approaching to excellence, the exclusive pride of Oman. In this last-named province, weaving, silk and gold thread embroidery, silver work, gold filigree, and even steel implements, are wrought to a degree of perfection seldom attained by the workmen even of Damascus or Baghdad; and the labours of the Oman loom or forge, when exported, as they are, though not in large quantities, are eagerly purchased abroad. But even here the extreme simplicity, or rather rudeness, of the tools employed, and the deficiency of mechanical contrivance, dwarf the results of patient and otherwise ingenious labour into comparative insignificance.

In wood the Arabs are not unskilful artificers; and their drinking-bowls and platters, manufactured chiefly from the “ithel” or larch tree, and studded with small silver knobs, make a good appearance. As masons they deserve little praise; their constructions are clumsy and unstable, the details coarse and ill-fashioned. There is not a single building, public or private, built by the Arabs themselves, of any merit either in regard of utility or of beauty, within the whole of Arabia.

Backward in manufacture, and even showing, on the whole, little capacity for it, the Arabs are singularly alive to the advantages of commerce and trade, and fond of exercising them. No Arab undertakes a journey, were it only from one village to another, without taking with him some object for exchange or sale; and he will sooner chaffer away the handkerchief on his head or the camel on which he rides, than return without having effected something in the way of business. In this respect, Bedouin and townsman, rich and poor, are all alike; and their history shows that this propensity is no less ancient than universal in the race. Owing, however, to the want of variety in its productions, and the remarkably uniform habits of its inhabitants, combined with the scarcity of local manufactures, the trade of Arabia, whether export or import, is soon catalogued. Camels and sheep, hair and wool, come first on the export list; next coffee; then dates, then horses; a very little rice and a few cloaks from Yemen or Oman close the chapter of commerce so far as land produce is concerned; pearls sum up that of the sea. Nor is the import much more diversified or extensive. Cotton cloth, Indian prints, sugar, a little hardware, a few arms, powder and shot, and trinkets of no great value— such are the customary requisitions of the land. Nor has any single Arab, the Imam or Prince of Mascat alone excepted, sufficient available capital for extensive traffic, out or in; while the Mahometan prohibition of interest, and consequently of credit, joined to the illegality of insurance, would, even in a richer land, restrict enterprise within very unsatisfactory bounds. It is owing, indeed, to these narrow-minded laws, introduced by the Koran and co-existent with its observance, that what commerce exists at the seaports of Hejaz, Tehamah, and Yemen, has mainly fallen into the hands of Jews and Banians—that is, Indian merchants; though in Oman, where a more liberal spirit prevails, Arab merchants of considerable capital and with extensive connections are to be found. The custom-duties in the ports of Oman and the Persian Gulf, whether export or import, are 10 per cent., except on pearls; in the harbours of Yemen they are capricious, and often very high. The shereef or governor of Mecca used formerly to carry on, through Jiddah, a trade hardly inferior to that of the Imam of Mascat himself; but the devastations committed by the Wahhabees, and in later times the oppression of the Egyptian and Turkish governments, have considerably reduced this source of Arab income.

The origin of the Arab race, like that of most others, can only be matter of conjecture; no credit can be attached to the assertions, evidently unbased on historical facts, of those authors who, building on the narrow foundation of Hebrew records, have included the entire nation under the titles of Ishmael and Joktan; and Mahometan testimony on these matters can have no more weight than the Jewish, from which it is evidently derived. Setting, therefore, these vague and half-poetical traditions aside, the first certain fact on which to base our investigations is the ancient and undoubted division of the Arab race into two branches, the “Arab,” or pure; and the “Mostareb,” or adscititious. The geographical limits of both branches have already been sufficiently indicated. A second fact is, that everything in pro-Islamitic literature and record—the only reliable authorities in such a case, as preserved to us in the llamasa, the Kitab-d-Aqhanee, the writings of Musâoodee and AbulFeda, the stories of Antarah or Mohalhet, and the like— concurs in representing the first settlement of the “pure” Arabs as made on the extreme south-western point of the peninsula, near Aden, and thence spreading northward and eastward over Yemen, Hadramaut, and Oman. A third is the name Himyar, or “dusky,” given now to the ruling class, now to the entire nation; a circumstance pointing, like the former, to African origin. A fourth is the Himyaritic language—now, indeed, almost lost, but some words of which have been preserved either in proper names or even in whole sentences handed down. They are African in character, often in identity. Indeed, the dialect commonly used along the south-eastern coast hardly differs from that used by the Somawlee Africans on the opposite shore; but later intermixture of blood and constant intercourse may have much to do with this. Fifthly, it is remarkable that where the grammar of the Arabic, now spoken by the “pure” Arabs, differs from that of the north, it approaches to or coincides with the Abyssinian. Now, it is well known to philologists that grammatical inflections are a much more abiding and intimate test of origin than separate nouns or even verbs. Sixthly, the pre-Islamitic institutions of Yemen and its allied provinces—its monarchies, courts, armies, and serfs—bear a marked resemblance to the historical Africo-Egyptian type, and even to the modern Abyssinian. Seventhly, the physical conformation of the pure-blooded Arab inhabitants of Yemen, Hadramaut, Oman, and the adjoining districts—the shape and size of the head, the slenderness of the lower limbs, the comparative scantiness of hair, and other particulars— point in an African rather than an Asiatic direction. Eighthly, the general habits of the people,—given to sedentary rather than nomade occupations, fond of village life, of society, of dance and music; good cultivators of the soil, tolerable traders, moderate artisans, but averse to pastoral pursuits—have much more in common with the inhabitants of the African than with those of the western Asiatic continent. Lastly, the extreme facility of marriage which exists in all classes of the southern Arabs with the African races; the fecundity of such unions; and the slightness or even absence of any caste feeling between the dusky “pure” Arab and the still darker native of modern Africa—conditions different from those obtaining almost everywhere else—maybe regarded as pointing in the direction of a community of origin. Further indications are afforded both by local tradition and actual observation; but they are of a nature to be scarcely appreciable, except by those whom long familiarity has rendered intimate with the races in question; besides, the above are, for average criticism, sufficient.

It is harder to determine with precision the origin of the “adscititious” or “Mustareb” Arabs, and the circumstances under which they first peopled their half of the peninsula. Though in physical, mental, and lingual characteristics they offer too marked an affinity with the Arabs of the south to allow of any supposition except that of ultimate unity, so far as the stock is concerned; yet they present many and important divergences from them, and these divergences, whatever their nature, have all an Asiatic impress of their own. Such are their pastoral tendencies and proneness to nomade life; such the peculiarities of their idiom, drawing near to the Hebrew; such the strong clannish feeling, joined with a constant resistance to anything like regal power or settled comprehensive organisation; such even the outward and physical type. Time after time we may observe—in their history, their literature, their institutions or the absence of them, their past, their present—traits now Hebrew, now Syrian, now Chal-daean, now even Tatar; though the groundwork of the whole is undoubtedly identical with the Arab of the south. The probability, faintly indicated by tradition, is that at an early, indeed an absolutely pre-historic period, this branch of the Arab race, emigrating eastward, passed into Asia— not like their congeners, at the southern, but at the northern or isthmal extremity of the Red Sea; then pursued their inland way to the plains of Mesopotamia and Chal-daea, and perhaps even further; and after a long sojourn in these lands, during which they acquired the modifications, mental and physical, which distinguish them from their southern and more unchanged brethren, returned westward to the land already partly occupied by their kinsmen. This return would not be effected all at once, but by band after band, according to the pressure exercised on them by Iranian or Turanian neighbours, a fact witnessed to by many of the northern pre-Islamitic traditions, as found in Ibn-Atheer, Tabreezec, and others; while the well-known Ishmaelitic mythos, recorded alike in Hebrew and in Arab chronicles, probably points to the last batch of “adscititious” Arab immigrants, the special clan from which the family of Koreysh and the Prophet had origin.

Once established on the same soil, the two branches would naturally early manifest a tendency to unite, sufficient in time to produce a tolerable identity both of language and of usages; while the superinduced modifications of character and manners may well have originated the rivalry and even enmity between the Arabs of the north, or “Keysees,” and those of Yemen, which, under various forms, has never ceased down to our own time.

At present, however, the most important, as also the best known division of the Arab race is that which separates them into “Ahl Bedoo/’or “dwellers in the open land,” whence the common appellation of Bedouin; and “Ahl Hadr,” or “dwellers in fixed localities.” The former class, living under tents, and occupying the waste country which lies in a vast circle between the coast and the central plateau, while to the north it joins on to the Syrian desert, are the best known to European travellers, with whom they often come in contact, and by whom they have sometimes been described with considerable exaggeration both as to their numbers and in other respects. The most trustworthy authorities regarding them are Niebuhr and Burckhardt.

The Bedouins, then, are shepherds and herdsmen, reduced to an out-of-doors and roving life, partly by the intrinsic nature of their occupations, partly by the special characteristics of the country they belong to. For, while land, unsuited to all purposes except pasture, forms an unusually large proportion of the surface in the Arabian territory, the prolonged droughts of summer render considerable portions of it unfit even for that, and thus continually oblige the herdsmen to migrate from one spot to another in search of sufficient herbage and water for their beasts. The same causes also involve the Bedouins in frequent quarrels with each other regarding the use of some particular well or pasture-ground, besides reducing them not unfrequently to extreme want, and thus making them plunderers of others in self-support. Lastly, the loneliness of the desert, far removed from the vigilant control of fixed law, order, or police, has, combined with the other circumstances, continued during generation after generation to leave a peculiar impress on a naturally bold, hardy, and enterprising race, till the terms Bedouin and brigand have, in the opinion of many, become synonymous.

This opinion is, however, unjust. Professionally, and in the ordinary course of their lives, Bedouins are only shepherds and herdsmen: their raids on each other, or their exploits in despoiling travellers and caravans, are but occasional, though welcome and even exciting, exceptions to the common routine. Besides, their wars or forays among themselves,—for they very rarely venture on a conflict with the better armed and better organised sedentary EEnauiNs.J