The Northern Ḥeǧâz/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III
AL-ḤOMEJMA TO AL-ʻAḲABA
AL-ḤOMEJMA TO ḪARM AL-MERṢED
At 4.25 P. M. we left al-Ḥomejma and proceeded southward over the plain of Ḫarḫûra alongside the broad channel of aṣ-Ṣîḥ. The plain the east of the channel was planted in places with crops of wheat and barley. Between the various fields there are small clumps of shrubbery formed of ratam, rimṯ, and thorny silla. On the west side rise the steep granite rocks of Šejḳer, cut by the šeʻîb of Rîḥân from Msâwer and Ḏnêb, on the northern side of which gushes forth the spring of Abu ʻAǧârem. To the south of the Rîḥân šeʻîb the peak of aṣ-Ṣôr rises above a flat-topped rocky upland and behind it the two prisms Ṭabaḳât Kalḫa.
Toward 7.35 we caught the sounds of loud conversation and the melancholy strains of the rebâba (rebec or single-stringed viol), and before long we noticed the smell of brandy, for we were drawing near to the Post and Telegraph station of al-Ḳwêra, beside which we encamped at eight o’clock. We were surrounded by a number of men, who in correct and broken Arabic asked us who we were and where we were going. Ismaʻîn replied to their questions, whereupon they brought us fuel so that Šerîf could cook the supper. In the meantime we ascertained the latitude (temperature: 14.2° C). After supper we were obliged to take part in the conversation and hence could not retire to rest until after midnight.
On Saturday, June 4, 1910, we remained at al-Ḳwêra until the afternoon. This ancient Roman stronghold has been newly populated. The telegraph line from Maʻân to al-ʻAḳaba runs around it. In 1908 a house was begun west of the stronghold for the use of the telegraph and postal official, but the building was not yet completed, as the ceiling and roof were wanting. In consequence, the official and his assistants lived under canvas in the courtyard of the old stronghold. About one-third of the stronghold was cleared of débris, and the small corner rooms were cleaned out and furnished for use as a shelter in the rainy season (Figs. 19, 20, 21). The of
Fig. 19
Fig. 20
Fig. 19—Al-Ḳwêra from the east.
Fig. 20—Al-Ḳwêra from the southeast. ficial received 470 piasters ($21.15) per month, from which he had to feed himself, his family residing at Maʻân, and the horse which carried him on his tours of inspection of the telegraph poles. It was no wonder that he complained of suffering from hunger. All food supplies for al-Ḳwêra had to be conveyed from Maʻân or al-ʻAḳaba, and they were dear. The official was assisted by three telegraph inspectors, who patrolled the line from Ab-al-Lesel on the northeast
Fig. 21—In the Roman camp, al-Ḳwêra. to the end of Wâdi al-Jitm on the southwest. An ombâši (corporal, non-commissioned officer) and six men of the regular army guarded the stations and telegraph lines. Every day they brought water on an ass from the spring of al-Ašhab, which flows out about six kilometers to the west at the foot of the granite mountain of al-Ḥeǧfe. About one hundred meters south of the station there rises a low, red, sandy hill, bearing the remains of an old wall. More extensive ruins, perhaps those of a watchtower, are noticeable upon a tableshaped hill northeast of the stronghold. This small tableshaped hill, which is called ḳwêra (diminutive of ḳâra, isolated table-shaped hill), gave the ruins of the stronghold their name.[1]
Early in the morning we sent a scout to procure us a good guide from the camp of the ʻAlâwîn situated near the defile Ḫarm al-Merṣed. Tûmân and Rifʻat, accompanied by a soldier, set out for the peak of al-Mlêḥ, rising to the northwest, south of which there is a spring of the same name; whereas another spring called Abu Turrah flows to the northwest of al-Mlêḥ. Meanwhile I changed the photographic plates, sketched the surrounding district, recorded the names of the various hills and valleys, and gave out necessary medicines to the soldiers. Toward noon the scout returned with a guide. The chief of the ʻAlâwîn, Sâlem eben Ḥammâd eben Ǧâd, wished to accompany us and wanted to take with him his negro and another man, but I would not consent to this latter plan, fearing that these famished and unnecessary companions would be likely to deprive us of our small stock of supplies. At first Sâlem remonstrated. However, when Ismaʻîn told him that if he went by himself he would obtain the remuneration which would otherwise be divided among three, he ordered his two companions to go back to camp. In the afternoon Mḥammad with two scouts led our camels to the spring of al-Ašhab, not returning until three o’clock. Rifʻat and Tûmân had been back for some time, and we had everything ready for our departure. Having loaded the baggage on the camels, we started off at 3.08 for a lengthy march southward along the trade route.
The level plain of al-Ḥmejẓa, over which we passed, is shut in on the west by the granite wall of the Abu Sjejle mountain, while on the east it gives place to numerous isolated, sandy hills of various shapes, among them Salaḳa, Abu Ḥalḳûm, ar-Ruḥbi, al-Mḫarûḳ, ar-Ratama, ʻAṭra’, ʻEmûd, al-Ḥṣâni, and al-Aḥejmer. At 4.02 we crossed the šeʻîb of Abu Sjejle, which starts at the well of the same name on the border of the rocks of al-Ḥeǧfe and Abu Sjejle. At 4.28 we arrived at the telegraph line. Twenty-four telegraph poles for an unknown reason had been set up in a southeasterly direction from al-Ḳwêra, and only the farther poles were directed to the southwest. At 4.53 we left the trade route and at 5.05 came upon the watercourse of Bṭajjeḥât, which joins Wâdi al-Jitm. To the west there yawned the black šeʻîb of al-Filk, which comes from the well of al-Ktejfe and separates Abu Sjejle from al-Ḥmejra. Both sides of the watercourse of al-Bṭajjeḥât, as well as all the slopes inclining to the east, are covered with soft sand in which there is an abundant growth of ṛaẓa. Among the green shrubs of ṛaẓa a flock of sheep and goats were grazing, and our guide Sâlem dragged a fat ram to us.
We entered the broad, sheer defile Ḫarm al-Merṣed, which rises to the south between the granite rocks of al-Mdajfen on the west and ʻAtûd on the east. The western half of this defile was covered with a growth of ṛaẓa shrubs (Fig. 22), beneath which we encamped at 6.08 P. M. Our camels munched nothing but ṛaẓa, which they had not tasted for many months, perhaps even for many years, as in the land of the Ḥwêṭât the ṛaẓa is found only in isolated spots. The chief, Sâlem, killed the ram, skinned it, cut up the meat, hacked the bones, and Šerîf and Ismaʻîn stewed it in all the utensils which we had with us. They had plenty of fuel, because the stout, dry trunks and branches of the ṛaẓa burned well and slowly. Sâlem baked the liver and lungs in the ashes. He wound up the intestines, buried them in the sand, divided the fire above them, turned them twice, and then proceeded to feast on them. After supper he lit a small fire, placed a can of strong coffee near it, called for a handful of tobacco, sat down by the fire, and smoked and drank coffee until dawn.
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Fig. 22—Ḫarm (defile of) al-Merṣed.
ḪARM AL-MERṢED TO AL-ḲNÊNEṢIJJE
On Sunday, June 5, 1910, we were in the saddle again at 5.08 (temperature: 15.2° C) and made our way southward through the defile of al-Merṣed. To the west rise the rocks of al-Mdajfen and to the east those of ʻAtûd. They both consist of vertical, black granite ribs, over which are layers of yellowish limestone, gnawed and consumed by the action of rain, wind, heat, and cold. Lying in the defile there are large pieces of limestone that have broken away. At 5.20, through the gap in al-Mdajfen, we caught sight of the sharp obelisks formed by the granite mountains of at-Till, to the southwest, northeast of which were the broad summits Rwêsât al-Ḫâlde and to the south the huge pyramid of Bâḳer. The reflected rays of the rising sun seemed to glance off all these peaks in showers. At 5.34 we crossed the path leading eastward to the water of al-Muḥalleba. At 5.50 Sâlem pointed out on a granite slope to the left the spring of Šamʻûl and to the right on another slope the well of Ḥawâra, the water of which is said to be particularly fresh. Here the ṛaẓa shrubs ceased; but in place of them the plain was covered with šîḥ, ǧerad, ʻaǧram, ḏanabnâb, baʻejṯrân, naṣi, ḳejṣûm, ḥarmal (known also as ḥarǧal), nateš, wrâḳa, niḳd, silla, and also, as an isolated growth, kalḫ. At 6.30 we saw to the left the broad gap of Mojet Râmân and to the right the deep šeʻîb of Abu Neda’. The Mojet Râmân gap leads along the southern foot of Mount Râmân to the plain of al-Krejnîfe, separating Râmân from Mount Ramm with its countless sharp-pointed pyramids. At 7.10 we passed out of the defile and viewed to the southeast the high pyramids shining with a ruddy glow and the isolated, broken cones called as-Sarâbîṭ.
The mighty Ramm, or Iram, revealed itself in all its beauty. The broad plain Ḫawr Ramm, which separates its southeastern part, known as al-Barra, from the northwestern al-Mazmar and Umm ʻAšrîn, makes it seem as if the mountain range of Iram had been split in two. The southeastern half is higher than the northwestern and has an almost level ridge, from which rise innumerable small, sharp-pointed pyramids, so that from a distance it resembles a huge, mysterious fortress. In the northern part are the springs of al-Ḳwejse, aṣ-Ṣbâḫ, al-Mṛejra, Abu Rmejle, and al-ʻÂǧelîn.
At eight o’clock we reached the watershed and halted below the hill Ḳlejb al-Merṣed, from which I drew a map of the surrounding district (temperature: 25° C).
The eastern part of the Râmân mountain is called Ṛarnûḳ and borders on the plain of al-Krejnîfe, which extends between it and the Ramm group. To the southwest al-Krejnîfe is enclosed by Mount al-Ḳaṭṭâr, south of which a rocky plain gradually rises to the southwest, the southern part of the plain being called al-Moṛâr. To the east al-Moṛâr extends as far as the ridge of al-Abraḳ, to the southeast as far as al-Birde, while to the south it merges into the plains of as-Sardân and Ḫawr Ǧerîs, north of the mighty ridge of aẓ-Ẓahr which runs from north to south. To the east of the plain of al-Moṛâr rise the rocks of Ammu Mḳûr and Umm Ǧasar, and to the north of these al-Mḥarraḳ and al-Ḥadad. To the west of Ḳlejb al-Merṣed stretches the long elevation of al-Mrejweẓ, separated by the šeʻîb of al-Maʻnân from the higher ar-Ratâwa.
While here, the camels grazed on the ǧerad and the high swâs, similar to the kalḫ. At 10.45 A. M. we made our way still farther southward.
Ḳlejb al-Merṣed and al-Barra form the southern border of the ʻAlâwîn, the tribe to which our guide Sâlem belonged. Also called Ḥwêṭât eben Ǧâd,[2] they number about fifty tents and comprise the following clans:
| Ṣwêlḥîn Maḳâble al-Maḥâmîd al-Bdûl aṣ-Ṣḳûr al-Ḫẓêrât as-Sallâmîn |
al-Farrâǧîn as-Srûrijjîn al-Menâǧeʻe al-Ḳidmân al-ʻAwasa’ as-Sallâmât al-Ṛajâlîn. |
The ʻAlâwîn paid no taxes but received from the Turkish Government an annual grant of five hundred English pounds. The Egyptian Mameluke sultans, and later the Turkish rulers, had formerly paid them this money in return for their protection of the pilgrims journeying from Egypt by way of al-ʻAḳaba to al-Medîna and Mecca; but after the construction of the Suez Canal the Government discontinued the payments, as the pilgrims from Egypt no longer passed through the desert but took ship to Jidda or Râbeṛ. However, those who still journeyed through the desert continued to pay personally for their protection. In 1898 the tribes encamped southwest of Maʻân began a revolt against the Turks and wished to transfer their allegiance to Egypt. In order to win them over, the Turkish Government consented to grant gifts of money in individual cases and recommenced the annual payment of five hundred English pounds to the ʻAlâwîn.
Sâlem urged me to take a guide from among the ʻImrân, who would protect us from his predatory friends. It should be explained that each tribe regards the neighboring tribe as more thievish than itself.
The defile of al-Merṣed is enclosed to the south by the uplands of Šhejb al-Arâneb and Smejr as-Sebîḥi. Avoiding these uplands, we entered a capacious basin sloping towards the south, in which, near the well of Abu Sjejle, we perceived several camels belonging to the Šamsân clan of the ʻImrân. After a while we were joined by an old man with a good-humored expression, whom Sâlem recommended to me as guide. This was Ḥammâd, the chief of the Šamsân. On his head he wore a black and threadbare kerchief, while his body was clothed only in a tattered black shirt, which he carefully concealed under his new red and yellow cloak, received a few days before as a gift from the new ḳâjmaḳâm at al-ʻAḳaba. No Bedouin would have bought a garment of such a color. When, however, the Sultan at Constantinople selected this garment for Ḥammâd and sent it to him by his official, Ḥammâd could not refuse the gift, for Mawlâna-s-Sulṭân (Our Lord the Sultan) knew well what would be most fitting for the chief of the Šamsân. Entering into conversation with him, I discovered that he was familiar with the art of giving directions and distances and that he had a wide knowledge of local place names. In consequence I hired him as a guide. As we were drawing near his camp, he seized my camel by the bridle and implored me to dismount at his tent as a guest sent by Allâh. Not wishing to squander time unnecessarily, I extolled his lavishness and hospitality in high-flown words and asked him to excuse me on this occasion, adding that I would perhaps rest in his tent on my return.
Inquiring about ruins, I discovered that there are no remains of old buildings in the territory of the ʻImrân, but I was told that southeast of us there were the caves Moṛâr ʻAntar, constructed in the same extensive and beautiful manner as those at Wâdi Mûsa (Petra). After Ḥammâd had given me an exact description of these caves, we branched off to the east at 12.45 in order to inspect them. We rode through a šeʻîb, broad in most places but made so narrow in spots by the encroachment of the sandstone hills that the watercourse can scarcely penetrate it, and therefore called aẓ-Ẓjejḳe (the gorge) (Fig. 23). The banks are steep walls and reminded me of Sîḳ Wâdi Mûsa. The rays of the sun were reflected from the brown rocks, and the white sand which here and there formed extensive drifts was so dazzling that it was impossible to look at it. My right eye pained me; the lid was swollen, and the veins in the white of the eye were blood-shot. At 1.25 P. M., from a high rock, we perceived to the west on the right-hand side of Wâdi Jitm al-ʻImrân (or al-ʻEmrân) the dark-tinted mountain of aẓ-Ẓabʻi; the flat ridge of Lebenân lies opposite, on the left side of the wâdi. To the south of us rose the black, worn, granite rock of al-Hešîm, near which there flows a scanty spring; while south of us towered the isolated summit of al-Mkasseb. Branching off to the southeast, at two o’clock we entered into a broad šeʻîb that contained a number of small fields, and later we came to the peak of al-Ḳnêneṣijje, which shuts in the great plain of al-Moṛâr on the northwest.[3]
AL-ḲNÊNEṢIJJE TO AL-WARAḲA
At 2.30 P. M. we rode alongside the dark red rocks of aṭ-Ṭfejḥwât with their precipitous sides, admiring the groups
Fig. 23—Aẓ-Ẓjejḳe. of cleft cones of Sardân and Nurṛa. The latter are prominent by reason of their peculiar olive color, and, as they extend to the northward separating the large, level plains of Ḫawr Ǧerîs and Sardân, they are visible from a long way off. At three o’clock we had the white limestone hills of al-Ḫazʻali to the east and the high dark gray cone of al-Ḳiḏer to the southeast. At 3.20 we reached the plain Ḫawr Ǧerîs, where Ḥammâd pointed out to me on the right the famous caves Moṛâr ʻAntar. On the eastern side of the limestone mountain Ṭôr ʻAntar were the mouths of three large, natural caves which served as a shelter for flocks of goats and sheep. Nowhere in these caves is there the slightest trace of any decoration or any other sign that human hands have touched them. Their resemblance to the burial caves at Wâdi Mûsa was a product of Ḥammâd’s lavish imagination. He was distressed to find that the caves did not please me, but he comforted me by saying that he would conduct me to the rock of ʻAlaḳân, where he would show me boulders containing gold dust. He declared that in the spring of that year an official, ḫaddâm, of the Viceroy of Egypt had searched for such boulders near ʻAlaḳân without being able to find them, but that he would certainly show them to me. I thanked him for his willingness, but declared that I would not go to ʻAlaḳân, as I could not go there alone, and, if I were to take my companions with me, Ismaʻîn and Mḥammad would likewise see the boulders and later on would certainly make a raid upon the ʻImrân for the purpose of taking the boulders from them.
Having turned to the southwest through the gap of Abu Ḥsejje, we halted at 4.08 beneath the rocky wall of al-Waraḳa (temperature: 28° C). To the northwest, near the rocks Sarbûṭ Amṛar, we perceived a woman with three asses, who hastily took to flight when she caught sight of us. Our guide Ḥammâd wished to pursue her, in order to evade the taunts and reproaches which Ismaʻîn and Mḥammad were heaping upon him for having extolled the caves of ʻAntar as resembling the caves at Wâdi Mûsa and for declaring that he knew of a boulder near ʻAlaḳân baked in golden flour. It was with great difficulty that I soothed his feelings. I had realized that he was well acquainted with the whole territory of his tribe, and I knew that we should need him to protect us against the aggression of his fellow tribesmen.
Accompanied by Ḥammâd and Tûmân, I went to the top of al-Waraḳa and drew a map of the surrounding territory. It took us over forty minutes to reach the summit, and it was a very difficult climb, as we had to scramble from boulder to boulder and from rib to rib. Scarcely had we set about our work than we heard a number of muffled shots below us, followed by shouts that sounded like bellowings. Running to the very edge of a wall of rock, I gazed down at our encampment. The camels were grazing among the broken fragments of rock at the foot of al-Waraḳa. The baggage was lying about two hundred meters to the east of the animals. Ismaʻîn, Mḥammad, Šerîf, and Sâlem were lying hidden in a semicircle behind four boulders and were defending themselves against some thirty assailants. The attackers had come from the northwest, some on camels, the majority on foot. Among them and behind them came women and boys, armed with cudgels; all were shouting and cursing. Our guide Ḥammâd, recognizing the assailants as his fellow tribesmen, shouted to them that he, their chief, was guiding and protecting us, and, when they paid no heed to his words, he pulled his splendid mantle from his shoulders and, waving it in the air in his right hand, went leaping down towards them, jumping from boulder to boulder. As soon as the marauders perceived him they came to a standstill. Gradually the women went away, and at last the men also took their departure. After this incident we could complete our work. When, after sunset, we returned, I thanked Ḥammâd for his protection; but the negro Mḥammad declared that we had not been saved by the chief but by the chief’s red and yellow cloak. Mḥammad said that as soon as the assailants had caught sight of this garment selected and sent to Ḥammâd by the Sultan—they had been struck blind and had therefore been compelled to depart. So long as this cloak was with us, not a single thief among the ʻImrân would venture to steal anything from us. But Ḥammâd had no such faith in the great power of his cloak, and he urged me to post a guard to watch over our camels and baggage throughout the night. The chief Sâlem offered to keep watch until morning, if I would fill his bag with tobacco and give him a can full of coffee to boil. I sat up with him nearly all night, as I was suffering from a severe pain in my right eye.
AL-WARAḲA TO AẒ-ẒJEJḲE
On Monday, June 6, 1910, at 4.40 A. M., we rode out from camp toward the southwest, through the šeʻîb of Swêbeṭ (temperature: 14° C), and at 5.44 we crossed to the watercourse of Sâbeṭ. This šeʻîb runs from southeast to northwest through the sloping basin Ḫawr Ǧerîs, from which protrude only a few low, rocky ribs. The largest of these is called al-Meḳjâl. The whole basin and surroundings of the šeʻîb of Sâbeṭ were covered with a thick growth of grass and shrubs, a sign that there had been an abundance of rain during the last rainy season. Many snakes were crawling about among the vegetation, and we saw at least twenty of them. They were about thirty centimeters long, very thin, and their backs were covered with black scales. Ḥammâd praised the “richness of the pasture that year (rîf has-sene).” He explained that in the preceding year also there had been plenty of rain, but the young locusts had destroyed the grass and shrubs, so that the Imrân had been obliged to move on with their flocks to the region of al-Kḏûr on the southern border of the aš-Šera’ range.
We reached the watershed of the valleys of al-Jitm and al-Mabrak through the broad defile of ʻElw al-Jitâma, and from 7.30 to 11.42 our main party
Fig. 24—Ammu Zḳûḳ. remained beneath the steep wall of Ammu Zḳûḳ (Fig. 24). Jumping down from our camels, Tûmân and I took up the instruments we needed and with Ḥammâd made our way to the summit of Ammu Zḳûḳ. The ascent was difficult and even dangerous in places. We crawled among the granite ribs, frequently passing round vertical walls of rock, and scrambled between broken boulders, continually taking care not to set loose a stone that might roll down and wound or kill one of our companions coming up behind. After eighty minutes we reached a rocky ridge at an elevation of 1387 meters. Thoroughly tired, and breathing with difficulty, we sank down upon a rock, but after a short time recovered and set about our task.
To the east our view was shut off by the higher peaks of Ammu Zḳûḳ, and to the northwest it was barred by Abu ʻUrûḳ; but in all other directions we could see for a great distance. To the northeast, behind the elevation of Ammu Drejra, from which the šeʻîb of an-Naʻami proceeds, there extends the plain Ḫawr Ǧerîs, separated by the group of Sardân and Nuṛra from the plain of as-Sardân, which slopes to the southeast. South of Nuṛra the mountains of Ammu Saḫan and al-Muṭṭalaʻa are united with the broad ridge of aẓ-Ẓahr, and still farther south they merge with the mountains of Nedra and az-Zejte, which form the watershed between the eastern lowlands and the Red Sea. Below Ammu Zḳûḳ to the south, the broad šeʻîb of al-Ḳrejn extends from east to west—bordered on the east by the hills of al-Bṭâne, Ammu Lowze, and ʻAlaḳân; on the south by az-Zerânîḳ, an-Nḳejra, Abu Reḳâjeṣ, and Ṛurâba; on the west by aṣ-Ṣfejḥe; and on the northwest by Abu Ḳrûn and Abu ʻUrûḳ. Through the plain of al-Ḳrejn there winds the watercourse of the same name. The spring of an-Nḳejra lies between the rocks of an-Nḳejra and az-Zerânîḳ on the eastern portion of the plain, while toward the western end the spring of al-Esâwed rises at the foot of Abu Ḳrûn. The šeʻîb of al-Ḳrejn joins the šeʻîb of al-Mabrak, which extends from the rocks of ʻAlaḳân, aṭ-Ṭafḥa, and Ammu Kedâde that lie to the southeast. To the west of ʻAlaḳân, on the right-hand side of al-Mabrak rises the mountain of al-Ṛoṣon; on the left-hand side, al-Emejṛer and Umm Burḳa; Ammu Ḥamâṭa farther to the west is on the right-hand side, and aẓ-Ẓrejf on the left. At the head of the šeʻîb of al-Mabrak—to the southwest of ʻAlaḳân—is the spring of al-ʻElli; to the west of al-Emejṛer is the spring of aṭ-Ṭarfa’, while northwest of aṭ-Ṭarfa’ are al-Wuǧîde and al-Maʻajjenât, the latter on the west slope of Ammu Ḥamâṭa.
I collected some plants during the descent, so that I returned about a quarter of an hour later than my companions. Having described the plants and put them away, I made ready for departure, without refreshing myself with even a cup of coffee: my hungry companions had consumed everything available.
We turned back northward through the defile of ʻElw al-Jitâma, as I wanted to journey through Wâdi al-Jitm to the settlement of al-ʻAḳaba. Before us, to the northwest, rose the dark mountains of Sarbûṭ al-Amṛar with their vertical ribs, on which stand steep-walled, red, natural strongholds. The vertical ribs are of granite and the strongholds of limestone and sandstone. The individual mountains are divided by broad notches, the walls of which are black while the ridges of the mountains are red, and in the rays of the sun these two colors spread around them a thin veil, woven of the most various shades of color. This veil appeared to be in perpetual motion, which was irritating to the eyes. I was obliged to bind up my sore right eye and use only the left.
At 1.10 we had on our left the šeʻîb of Ammu Nṣâl, in which rises near a sidr tree the spring of Ḥawâra. The ʻImrân believe that this tree is the abode of a spirit—hal-welijje hâḏi mamlûka (this holy tree is possessed by a spirit). At 2.10 on the right among the black granite rocks we perceived the broad gap of Meḳreḥ al-Ǧemal and came to the šeʻîb of al-ʻEmêdijje, through which a road leads to the spring of Abu Ḥbejle. From 2.40 to 5.13 we rested at the foot of Mount al-Mkasseb (Fig. 25). The baggage was unloaded and the camels were led to the spring of Taten, which comes up from the northern slope of al-Ḳnejne. The air was filled with thick vapors, which formed broad layers and shut out the view (temperature: 37.2° C). They quivered in the hot rays of the sun and were continually changing their position. My left eye also began to hurt and I trembled with fever.
Fig. 25–Mount al-Mkasseb.
Toward five o’clock my companions brought back the camels, and at 5.13 we set off between the rocks of al-Ḳejṭûn, al-Ḫalal, and al-Ḥmejra on the left and al-Mkasseb on the right. At six o’clock, on our right beneath the spring of aš-Šerîʻa, we observed a large encampment of the ʻAsbân clan, who also belong to the ʻImrân. The chief, Kâsem, ran up to us with about twenty men and entreated me and my companions to be his guests. Tormented by fever and by the pain in my eyes, which was so severe that I could scarcely hold myself in the saddle, I craved rest and peace. I prayed the chief to allow us to sit down in the shadow of his tent and beneath the protection of his countenance, saying that we should everywhere extol and proclaim his bountifulness. At 6.12 we settled down beneath a rock of no great size near the šeʻîb of aẓ-Ẓjejḳe, about one kilometer from the tents (temperature: 21° C).
Mounting the rock with Tûmân and the guide, I noted the names of the surrounding mountains and then dragged myself to the baggage. Šerîf placed my saddle for me in the shadow of the rock, where I lay down. My right eye was swollen and blood-shot, I had excruciating internal pains, and was shaken by fever. Scarcely had I wrapped myself up in my mantle, covering my head also, when Ḳâsem, the chief, came to pay me a visit, bringing me a bleating ram as a gift. Tying up the animal behind my head, he sat down beside me and inquired how I was prospering, how my parents were prospering, how my relatives were prospering, how the Sultan of Constantinople was prospering—not only the new Sultan, but also Abdul-Hamid, who had been deposed and who was, Ḳâsem said, a great benefactor of the ʻImrân, because he selected better cloaks than the present Sultan—and so on. Many other men came with the chief, and they also sat down around me, fingering the softness of my cloak, judging its cost, and declaring that it was of better material than the cloak which the Sultan had sent from Constantinople to their chief. Observing the barrel of my three-chambered rifle lying beside me underneath my cloak, they asked how it worked. As my head was entirely covered, I did not move or pay any heed to the chief and the rest of the company. After about a quarter of an hour, the leader got up and went to our fire, where coffee was just being boiled, and the rest of them crowded after him. Only the ram remained tied up behind my head and kept on bleating. At last the animal succeeded in breaking loose and escaped from the camp. Scarcely had its escape been observed than the chief and his followers dashed off, caught the animal, and brought it back again; but this time they did not tie it up near my head but near the fire, where it continued bleating until morning. All night long, as in a dream, I heard the voices of the men talking and the bleating of the ram.
AẒ-ẒJEJḲE TO THE RIFT VALLEY OF AL-ʻARABA AT RIǦM AL-FAẒḤ
Before dawn on Tuesday, June 7, 1910, Ḳâsem, the chief, was again sitting by my side with his ram, which he now held by the horns with his left hand. He offered it to me as a gift, expecting, of course, a much more valuable gift from me. The evening before he had invited us to come to his tent as guests, but in the meanwhile he and his followers visited us, consumed all my companions’ supper, and drank four cans full of coffee. But he nevertheless continued to regard himself as my host and demanded a gift. My companions were very much annoyed with him, and Mḥammad signaled to me that I should give him nothing. When Šerîf, at my hint, paid him three meǧîdijjât, Ḳâsem mounted his camel and rode away without a word of thanks: he had expected a much greater gift. On the heels of the chief about fifteen other men came up and all begged for gifts. I was glad when we rode away at 4.58 P. M.
The ʻImrân comprise the following clans:
Šamâmse (or Šamsân), 10 tents; at aẓ-Ẓjejḳe.
Dbûr, 25 tents; at Sâbeṭ.
Rabîʻijjîn, 20 tents; at the head of Sâbeṭ.
al-Maḳâble, 30 tents; between as-Sedâra and Zerânîḳ.
al-Fẓûl, 20 tents; at Ḥaḳl. They form two groups: ar-Rwêkbîn and al-Ḳawâsme.
al-Ḥawâmde, 35 tents; at ʻElw as-Sirr. They include al-Hlêlijjîn.
ʻAbâdle, 20 tents; in Tihama from al-Ḥmêẓa to ad-Dabr.
al-ʻAṣâbne, 40 tents; from Ṣfejḥa to the west and south.
The head chief of the ʻImrân is Sâlem eben Maḳbûl. He receives 250 Turkish gold pounds ($ 1125) annually from the Sultan. The territory of the ʻImrân from aẓ-Ẓjejḳe in the north to ad-Dabr in the south is about sixty kilometers long by thirty-five kilometers broad. They have a clear and distinct pronunciation of ḳ, k, and ǧ; their ẓ is nearer to ḍ; ta’ marbûṭa sounds nearly always like a.
At 5.45 we rode through a grove of sejâl trees which covered not only the valley but also the northern foot of Mount aẓ-Ẓabʻi. The wâdi forms a basin open on the east but shut in on the west by the steep walls of Mount Lebenân. The latter are made of black, reddened, and blue strata, broken perpendicularly.[4]
At seven o’clock, on our left, we saw the šeʻîb of Umm ʻEšš, which is clogged with stones and sand, so that the river bed is over five meters deep. At 7.20 we arrived at the junction of the two valleys called Jitm, Malâḳa’ al-Ajtâm (junction of the Jitms), one of which proceeds from the ruins of al-Ḥomejma on the north, while the other, through which we rode, comes from the southeast. The small ruins of al-Kiṯara, situated on the spur between the two channels, are said to be inhabited by a spirit and consequently are avoided by both the ʻAlâwîn and the ʻImrân.[5] North of them is the spring of al-Ḫaraḳ.
I should have been very glad to have halted and inspected the ruins, but there was nowhere any trace of plants. Both wâdis were completely dried up, and in the joint valley of al-Jitm only sejâls were growing in the stony soil. Our guide Sâlem said that in the lower part of Wâdi al-Jitm there had been no rain during either that year or the previous one. The sun beat down upon the black rocks that enclose the wâdi, the air did not stir, and in the deep ravine the sweltering heat was unbearable. The camels were as eager as their riders to escape from this closed furnace and needed no urging to hasten westward. At eight o’clock we had the rocks of Maksar al-Ǧerra on our left; four minutes later the šeʻîb of Umm Ḥamâṭa was on our right, and at 8.10 we were thrusting our way among countless granite boulders that had been wrenched from the wall of ar-Reṣafa which enclosed the wâdi on our right. At 8.44 we came upon the dam of al-Mesadd, which once ran across the full breadth of the wâdi from southwest to northeast, transforming it into a large rain pool. Its southern portion has now been broken through and carried away. At 8.52 P. M. we saw many sejâl trees in the šeʻîb of Umm Laṣam on our left; and at nine o’clock we rode out from Wâdi al-Jitm and from the granite walls enclosing it. On the left of the river bed, beneath the rocky wall, lies the huge, smooth boulder Dims al-ʻOḳbijje, so named after a young woman of the Beni ʻOḳba tribe. She is said to have been a renowned beauty, who was married as a girl to the chief, a relative of hers. After having been married for two years she had not yet presented her husband with a boy or a girl. At Allâh’s injunction, she came one day to
Fig. 26—From Riǧm al-Faẓḥ looking northeast. look for fuel in Wâdi al-Jitm. She was accompanied by another woman but lost sight of this companion. After shouting had failed to attract the attention of the missing woman, the chief’s wife leaped upon a huge boulder but missed her footing and slid down. Lo and behold! after due time, she gave birth to a strong, healthy boy. Since then the childless women of the neighboring tribes have made pilgrimages to the boulder of al-ʻOḳbijje, where they climb over its surface: if Allâh wills it they obtain children and if Allâh wills not they obtain no children.
RIǦM AL-FAẒḤ TO AL-ʻAḲABA
At 9.15 A. M., to the east of Riǧm al-Faẓḥ, we perceived a few yellowish rimṯ bushes (Fig. 26), beside which we 
Fig. 27—Al-ʻAḳaba from the north. remained until 11.45. Our famished camels could find nothing except rimṯ. The rift valley of al-ʻAraba was completely parched, and, as there was nowhere the slightest trace of grass or green plants, the prevailing color was gray. The heat was so great that we found it difficult to breathe (temperature: 37.8° C). The air was full of yellowish layers; the sun could not be seen, but its hot rays warmed these layers and scorched the stones and sand. There was not the least breath of wind to bring cooler air to the heated soil upon which we lay. Our lungs struggled to gulp down as much air as possible, and we could not bear to turn our eyes upon the glowing atmosphere. My right eye was paining me so much that I did not venture even to move the muscles of it, not wishing to increase my agony. My fever had grown more severe again, and I could feel the blood throbbing in my temples.
Mounting our camels at 11.45, we rose above the warmest atmospheric layer and could breathe somewhat more freely. After proceeding southward along the western foot of the Ummu Nsejle mountains, at twelve o’clock we crossed the šeʻîb of Umm Ǧurfejn, through which we could see the black ridge of Mount ar-Rwêḥa. But we did not find any fresh green plants anywhere at the foot of the mountain; the needles had been preserved only on the rimṯ bushes and not on all of these, for many of them were completely bare, a sign that the roots had not found enough moisture to nourish the long, thin leaves, which resemble pine needles. At 12.47 we caught sight of the palm gardens of the oasis of al-ʻAḳaba (Fig. 27). The tops of the palms seemed to be a dull black, while the sea behind them was a dirty yellow. At 1.06 we rode across the šeʻîb of aš-Šellâle and reached the wooden huts in which a hundred and fifty foot soldiers were quartered. Skirting the encampment and settlement on the western side, we urged our camels to kneel down by the well of Ajla (temperature 42.3° C).
The well of Ajla is situated between the stronghold and the seashore, from which it is scarcely fifty paces distant. To the north and south extend the palm gardens. At the advice of Ismaîn, who was well acquainted with al-ʻAḳaba, we carried our baggage into the nearest of the northern gardens, where we encamped. After a while, the owner of the garden came up to us with a watchman, and both gave us a hearty welcome. Accompanied by Ismaʻîn, I proceeded to the ḳâjmaḳâm. The Government building—a low, dirty hut with two rooms and a single window—is situated north of the village. We did not find the ḳâjmaḳâm there, as he was paying a visit to the hut of the Military Commander farther to the north. In front of the latter’s hut the soldiers had planted several ratam bushes, which had grown abundantly as a result of careful watering.
The ḳâjmaḳâm, a man of about thirty-five, with an intelligent expression, was lying on a carpet and reading a Turkish newspaper. He spoke Arabic quite fluently, and this I immediately remarked as unusual among the younger Turkish officials, especially since the change of Government. I first handed him a recommendation and a letter from his father-in-law at Damascus, and then a recommendation from Constantinople. He heartily bade me welcome and questioned me particularly about events in Constantinople and Syria. He informed me that he had reached al-ʻAḳaba from al-Medîna by way of Maʻân only a few days before and that he proposed to subject the region entirely to the Turkish Government from Moṛâjer Šuʻejb in the south to the well ʻAjn Ṛarandal in the north, from ʻAjn Ṭâba in the west to the mighty ridge of aẓ-Ẓahr in the east. He was to be supported by one hundred and fifty foot soldiers and twenty-six men mounted on camels. The ḳâjmaḳâm complained that one hundred and thirty of his men were lying ill, suffering from fever and malaria and that his mounted men had only two camels, which were deteriorating from day to day as a result of insufficient food. The camel riders all came from al-Ḳaṣîm, thus being ʻAḳejl, whom the ḳâjmaḳâm had hired in al-Medîna. The Government had appointed him the first ḳâjmaḳâm in al-ʻAḳaba but had not supplied him with money, food, or even ammunition. In al-ʻAḳaba there were no medicines and no doctor. The soldiers who were seriously ill were transported on camels to Maʻân and thence by railway to Damascus, a journey which required eight days, so that few of those who were dangerously ill reached Damascus alive. The garrison was relieved every six months. In 1909 many of the soldiers and the native inhabitants had died of cholera brought by pilgrims returning by way of al-ʻAḳaba to Egypt and thence to northern Africa.[6]
The settlement of al-ʻAḳaba has about thirty huts, inhabited by nineteen families who have emigrated from various countries and cities. The majority of the inhabitants are descendants of Egyptian soldiers and pilgrims who fell ill at al-ʻAḳaba, were cured, and married there. The huts are built of broken stone or unburnt brick. The only building of a higher type is the stronghold, which is constructed of square-hewn, black and white stones (Fig. 28). At each corner of the stronghold there is a round tower. A fine gateway in the center of the northern side leads into an extensive courtyard, along the walls of which there are stables, storehouses, and rooms for visitors and pilgrims. To the right and left of this gateway there are rosettes, and on the northeastern tower is a knight’s escutcheon (Fig. 29). On both walls of the broad passage formed by the gateway there are inscriptions announcing by whom and when the stronghold was restored. Today it again stands in need of restoration, for its northern and eastern walls are half in ruins.
The inhabitants of al-ʻAḳaba cultivate the date palm. They have excellent plantations to the south of the settlement, to the northwest near the ruins of ad-Dejr on the road to Egypt, and in the western part of al-ʻAraba. They assured me that they have more than three thousand date palms. Under the palms they grow figs, pomegranates, sweet lemons, and various kinds of vegetables. The gardens do not provide them with a living, as they nearly all belong to the chiefs of neighboring tribes, for whom they are cultivated in return for a half or a third of the yield. The settlers seek a livelihood in trade, conveying and selling various goods which are brought by the coasting traders or sailors on ships from Egypt. In the Wâdi al-ʻOḳfi the soil can be cultivated, and the harvests there are abundant when there has been plenty of rain and water has been flowing through the wâdi for a considerable time. In this valley the inhabitants rent allotments from the Ḥêwât, sowing the land with wheat and barley and living in tents beside their fields during the periods of sowing and of harvest. After the harvest they return to al-ʻAḳaba with the threshed corn. 
Fig. 28—The stronghold of al-ʻAḳaba from the northeast
Fig. 29—Al-ʻAḳaba, the northeastern tower. of this palm grove, but the building was never completed and now resembles a ruin.
After our return from ad-Dejr, I photographed the inscriptions on the stronghold, visited a number of the sick soldiers, conversed for more than an hour with the ḳâjmaḳâm, and looked about for a reliable guide. The chief, Sâlem eben Ǧâd, who had accompanied us to al-ʻAḳaba, had become so accustomed to our coffee that he did not feel inclined to leave us.
- ↑ The Roman highroad is clearly distinguishable near the station of al-Ḳwêra. The part of it which leads from Syria east of the Dead Sea to the harbor of Aila is defined as far as the station of Zadagatta (aṣ-Ṣadaḳa). From Zadagatta to al-Ḥomejma only the general direction can be determined. From al-Ḥomejma to the lower end of the deep Wâdi al-Jitm numerous mileposts have been preserved from the time of the Emperors Constantine and Constans, which establish the fact that the Roman military road was constructed through this wâdi and did not branch off through any šeʻîb winding down to the rift valley of al-ʻAraba between al-Jitm and Zadagatta. The Tabula Peutingeriana (Vienna, 1888), sheet 10, shows a single highroad running from the harbor of Haila (Aila) to the north, which, at the mark indicating the station of Ad Dianam, divides into two branches: a western one proceeding toward Palestine and an eastern one to Zadagatta. It is questionable whether the Tabula Peutingeriana has accurately represented this division. The red line denoting a new branch road on this map frequently either joins the main road too far to one side or the other of the actual junction, and is thus assigned to the wrong station, or else forms a crossroad where there is none. It is possible that, in this case also, the red line of the Syrian road was placed too high and the station of Ad Dianam was thus turned into a junction point. In this respect it is very striking that Aila, where the tenth Legio Fretensis encamped, has no special symbol, while the entirely unknown station of Ad Dianam bears the symbol of a temple, although it is only the chief cities that are supplied with symbols on other parts of the map. The symbol indicating a temple at the station of Ad Dianam perhaps originated from the fact that Adian—the Semitic name of the station—was twisted into Ad Dianam by the designer and that either he or a copyist drew a symbol belonging properly to the military camp and harbor of Aila in such a way as to make it apply to the neighboring station of Ad Dianam, which it transformed into a temple. The red line of the Syrian highroad bends off to the south after its division from the Palestinian line. This bend tallies perfectly with the actual state of things. From the station of Zadagatta to the city of Aila, by way of Ad Dianam, is represented as 81,000 paces, or about 120 kilometers, while the actual length of the Roman road with all its turnings is not more than 64,000 paces, or 95 kilometers. If we exclude the 16,000 paces from Ad Dianam to Aila and reckon the distance direct, assuming that the roads diverged at Aila, we obtain 65,000 paces, which accords with the actual distance (approximately 64,000 paces). The positions of the two stations Hauarra and Praesidio can be determined accurately. At 20,000 paces from Zadagatta (the modern aṣ-Ṣadaḳa) we reach the spring of al-Bêẓa and the extensive ruins of the city of al-Ḥomejma. Everything indicates that this city was built by the Nabataeans and thus antedates the Roman epoch. It controlled the most convenient and the shortest road leading from the south along the western foot of the aš-Šera’ range to the city of Petra. The name Hauarra has the same signification as al-Bêẓa’ or al-Ḥomejma. From the northern part of the ruins of al-Ḥomejma the Roman road runs.
- ↑ See Musil, Arabia Petraea, Vol. 3, pp. 54—55.
- ↑ The plain of al-Moṛâr is mentioned by Arabic authors as being in the territory of the Ǧuḏâm tribe.Al-Hamdâni (died 945 A.D.), Ṣifa (Müller), p. 129, states that the Ǧuḏâm tribe encamped between Madjan, Tebûk, and Aḏruḥ, one clan sojourning, however, in the vicinity of aṭ-Ṭabarijje (Tiberias). The same author mentions (op. cit., pp. 130 f.) that the territory of the Beli tribe borders on the territory of the Ǧuḏâm on the shore near the station of an-Nabk and that the Ǧuḏâm territory extends as far as ʻAjnûna’ and Tebûk in the desert, the aš-Šera’ range, Maʻân, and thence back again to Ajla, and farther on to within sight of al-Maṛâr, the place last mentioned being the encampment of the Laḫm tribe, who are also the owners of a strip of country between the settlements of Tebûk and Zoṛar.Al-Bekri, Muʻǧam (Wüstenfeld), p. 550, mentions the place al-Maʻin as being in the Ǧuḏâm territory. According to the poet Ḥassân ibn Ṯâbet, the camping places of the Ǧuḏâm are distributed between al-Maʻin, ʻAwd, Ṛazza, al-Marrût, al-Ḫabt, al-Muna’, and Bejt Zummâra’. The poet Mâlek ibn Ḥarîm mentions Mount ʻUrâd together with al-Maʻin. Al-Bekri also states, op. cit. p. 190, that the places mentioned by Ḥassân ibn Ṯâbet refer to the encampments of the Ǧuḏâm and that they are situated in Syria (Ḥassân ibn Ṯâbet, Dîwân [Tûnis, 1281 A. H.], p. 28).Al-Bekri, op. cit., p. 524, refers to Marrût as a region in the Ǧuḏâm territory, which was presented to Ḥuṣejn ibn Mušammet by the Prophet Mohammed, together with the fountains of Uṣejheb, al-Mâʻeze, al-Hawi, aṯ-Ṯmâd, and as-Sdêra in that area.—Madjan is the present oasis of al-Bedʻ about half-way up the wâdi of al-Abjaẓ. Aḏruḥ is situated sixteen kilometers northwest of the town of Maʻân. An-Nabk is a pilgrimage station on the shore of the Red Sea, which must be located in the šeʻîb of Šaʻaf, although the frontier between the Ǧuḏâm and Beli was and is still formed by the wâdi of Dâma, nearly sixty kilometers northwest of Šaʻaf. ʻAjnûna’ is located about fifty kilometers south-southeast of Madjan (al-Bedʻ). Al-Maṛâr—or, as it is called today, al-Moṛâr is a plateau to the south and southeast of the Ramm range, or the ancient Iram, rising to the cast of the former city of Ajla and enclosing the northern corner of the Ḥesma’ district. According to al-Hamdâni the Ǧuḏâm tribe occupied Ḥesma’ as far as the harbor of Ajla and al-Moṛâr, as well as the neighboring aš-Šera’ range as far as Maʻân and the eastern table-land. The Laḫm tribe had the territory to the north of al-Moṛâr and to the west of the neighboring aš-Šera’ range as far as the Dead Sea, always supposing, of course, that the details given by al-Hamdâni are accurate. It is certain that the Laḫm territory did not extend as far as the settlement of Tebûk. No other writer mentions the Laḫm in the vicinity of Tebûk, and no tribe would have permitted a foreign zone to be thrust as a wedge into their territory, thereby intercepting the road from water to water. Al-Maʻîn is a mountain overlooking the coastal plain about sixty kilometers north of the Dâma wâdi. Some accounts mention ʻArd in place of ʻAwd, although it seems to me that the former name is correct, for ʻArâjed is the name of an important encampment north of Tebûk, well known to the Arabic writers. The place named Ṛazza is unknown to me in the territory of the Ǧuḏâm tribe. It is, however, very probable that the name has not been accurately preserved and that its proper form was ʻAzza or something similar. There is an encampment ʻAzâza known to the modern nomads in the former territory of the Ǧuḏâm tribe situated at the entrance to the al-Bdejje pass, through which the road from Tihama runs eastward across the rocky plateau of al-Ǧeles. I locate al-Ḫabt in the modern al-Ḫbejt, on the eastern side of the wâdi of al-Abjaẓ. Al-Muna’ is unknown to me. Bejt Zummâra’ may be identical with the modern range of Zunnâra, for in the Arabic dialects m is often interchanged with n. More probably, however, Bejt Zummâra’ has been preserved in the modern Abu Zummârîn, which is the name of an important passage from the eastern plateau to the shore. The encampment of ʻUrâd of the poet Mâlek ibn Ḥarîm can very reasonably be identified with ʻArd and ʻArâjed, for the poets often adapted place names to their particular requirements. Al-Marrût denotes the whole region, the position and extent of which we can determine if we find the wells of Uṣejheb, al-Mâʻeze, al-Hawi, aṯ-Ṯmâd, and as-Sdêra.Uṣejheb is the modern well and šeʻîb of aṣ-Ṣahab near al-Weli Samʻûl. The spring of al-Hawi flows out about ten kilometers north of aṣ-Ṣahab. Al-Mâʻeze suggests al-Maʻâzi, twenty-five kilometers northwest of al-Hawi. I identify aṯ-Ṯmâd with the wells of al-Maʻajjenât, ten kilometers south of al-Maʻʻâzi. Ṯmâd is the general name of shallow wells in a river bed, and al-Maʻajjenât are of this description. About fifteen kilometers from them are the hills of as-Sedâra, in which there are several wells west of al-Hawi, and it is there that I locate as-Sdêra. Near al-Maʻâzi rises the šeʻîb of al-Mrâtijje, the root of the name of which suggests the diminutive Marrût. This, accordingly, denotes the zone between aṣ-Ṣahab to the south and al-Mrâtijje about forty-five kilometers to the north.The Prophet granted in fief to Ḥuṣejn ibn Mušammet the wells near the important transport route that passes from north to south through the western district of the Ǧuḏâm territory, and Ḥuṣejn was entitled to demand remuneration from the trade caravans.
- ↑ Abu Muḥammed al-Aswad (Jâḳût. Muʻǧam [Wüstenfeld]. Vol. 4. p. 347) recalls a ride from the sandy desert of Ajla through the lowland of Lubna’ and through the volcanic region of al-ʻAramât, which is covered in places with sandy drifts. He states that Lubna’ is situated in the territory of the Ǧuḏâm.—I locate the lowland of Lubna’ in the valley near Mount Lebenân, for Lubna’ is the feminine form of the masculine Lebenân. It belonged to the Ǧuḏâm tribe, and an important road led through it from the harbor of Ajla to the southeast. The region of ʻAramât would then be identical with the volcanic territory Ḥarrat al-ʻAwêreẓ.
- ↑ Al-Ḥâzimi, according to Jâḳût, op. cit., Vol. 4, p. 317, mentions Mount Kawṯar as lying between al-Medîna and Syria.—This is perhaps the mountain which rises above the ruins of Kiṯara. The approximate indication of its position between al-Medîna and Syria is customary with the Arabic geographers and implies that it is situated by the road—or at least not far from the road—which leads from al-Medîna to Syria. This road runs from Ajla by al-Kiṯara to the pass of Šitâr, the position of which is defined by Jâḳût, op. cit., Vol. 3, p. 259, precisely as lying between al-Medîna and Syria.
- ↑ Abu-l-Feda’, Taḳwîm (Reinaud and De Slane), pp. 86–87, states that in his time nothing was left of the former small town of Ajla except the stronghold on the Egyptian Pilgrim Route situated by the shore of the Ḳolzum Sea. There were no fields in the vicinity of this stronghold. In former times Ajla had a small fortress on the island [a small island (not shown on the map) situated near the western shore of the gulf and not explored by me]; but this also was abandoned, and the Egyptian governor resided in the above-mentioned stronghold. For records of the history of the harbor of Ajla, see Musil, Arabia Petraea, Vol. 2, Part 1, p. 305, note 16.
a distance of twenty-one kilometers to the Roman fort of al-Ḳwêra. This stronghold was built to the south of a low, isolated, table-shaped rock, generally called ḳâra (diminutive ḳwêra), upon which are situated the ruins of the Nabataean fortress. The distance of twenty-one kilometers makes 14,000 paces, whereas the Tabula Peutingeriana gives it as 24,000 paces. It is well known, however, that the figures indicating distances on the Tabula Peutingeriana have been very unsatisfactorily preserved. We have, therefore, every reason to suppose that an inaccurate “xxiiii” came from a correct “xiiii”—an easy error in Roman figures. Hence al-Ḳwêra would seem to be the Roman station of Praesidio. Beyond al-Ḳwêra the Roman road turns off from the cultivated lowland into the deep Wâdi al-Jitm surrounded by granite mountains, passes through it southward to a point nearly due east of Aila, thereupon turns to the northwest, leaves the râdi about five kilometers north of Aila. and then turning again south arrives at Aila at a distance of forty-five kilometers from al-Ḳwêra. This distance should not be 21.000 paces, as given on the Tabula Peutingeriana, but 30.000. The Roman figure “xx” is on the left and the figure “i” on the right of the red line; this figure “i,” however, is so short that it resembles the stroke of an “x” rather than an “i.” On this road there actually is no place for the station of Ad Dianam, whereas on the Palestine road Ad Dianam would correspond to the Semitic Adian (Ṛaḍjân), a town which was located 32 kilometers, or exactly 21,000 paces, north of Aila on the eastern border of al-ʻAraba (see Musil, Arabia Petraea, Vol. 2, Part 1. p. 254).
The station of al-Ḳwêra is situated at the crossing of two important ancient transport routes. One ran from Madian in the south to ancient Petra in the north; the second led in a northeasterly direction from the harbor of Aila (the modern al-ʻAḳaba) by way of Naḳb aš-Štâr to Maʻân. I hold the opinion that the Israelites followed the former road to Ḳadeš, near Petra, and, returning, branched off on the second road to Mount Seʻir, Maʻân, and farther on to Moab (see below, pp. 267—272).