The Hajj Sharmarkay In His Youth Was A Man Of Valour:
He could not read or
write; but he carried in battle four spears [26], and his sword-cut was
recognisable.
He is now a man about sixty years old, at least six feet two
inches in stature, large-limbed, and raw-boned: his leanness is hidden by
long wide robes. He shaves his head and upper lip Shafei-fashion, and his
beard is represented by a ragged tuft of red-stained hair on each side of
his chin. A visit to Aden and a doctor cost him one eye, and the other is
now white with age. His dress is that of an Arab, and he always carries
with him a broad-bladed, silver-hilted sword. Despite his years, he is a
strong, active, and energetic man, ever looking to the "main chance." With
one foot in the grave, he meditates nothing but the conquest of Harar and
Berberah, which, making him master of the seaboard, would soon extend his
power as in days of old even to Abyssinia. [27] To hear his projects, you
would fancy them the offspring of a brain in the prime of youth: in order
to carry them out he would even assist in suppressing the profitable
slave-trade. [28]
After half an hour's visit I was led by the Hajj through the streets of
Zayla [29], to one of his substantial houses of coralline and mud
plastered over with glaring whitewash. The ground floor is a kind of
warehouse full of bales and boxes, scales and buyers.
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