The People, A Mixture Of Girhi And Gudabirsi Bedouins, Swarmed Out
To Gratify Their Curiosity, But We Were In No Humour For Long
Conversations.
Our luggage was speedily disposed in a heap near the kraal,
the mules and camels were tethered for the night, then, supperless and
shivering with cold, we crept under our mats and fell asleep.
That day we
had ridden nearly fifteen hours; our halting place lay about thirty miles
from, and 240° south-west of, Koralay.
After another delay, and a second vain message to the Gerad Adan, about
noon appeared that dignitary's sixth wife, sister to the valiant Beuh. Her
arrival disconcerted my companions, who were too proud to be protected by
a woman. "Dahabo," however, relieved their anxiety by informing us that
the Gerad had sent his eldest son Sherwa, as escort. This princess was a
gipsy-looking dame, coarsely dressed, about thirty years old, with a gay
leer, a jaunty demeanour, and the reputation of being "fast;" she showed
little shame-facedness when I saluted her, and received with noisy joy the
appropriate present of a new and handsome Tobe. About 4 P.M. returned our
second messenger, bearing with him a reproving message from the Gerad, for
not visiting him without delay; in token of sincerity, he forwarded his
baton, a knobstick about two feet long, painted in rings of Cutch colours,
red, black, and yellow alternately, and garnished on the summit with a
ball of similar material.
At dawn on the 26th December, mounted upon a little pony, came Sherwa,
heir presumptive to the Gerad Adan's knobstick.
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