English were, of course, the most hated and dreaded; at Harar slavery still holds its head-quarters, and the old Dragon well knows what to expect from the hand of St. George. Thus the various travellers who appeared in beaver and black coats became persuaded that the city was inaccessible, and Europeans ceased to trouble themselves about Harar.
It is, therefore, a point of honour with me, dear L., to utilize my title of Haji by entering the city, visiting the ruler, and returning in safety, after breaking the guardian spell.
The most auspicious day in the Moslem year for beginning a journey is, doubtless, the 6th of the month Safar,[1] on which, quoth the Prophet, Al-Islam emerged from obscurity. Yet even at Aden we could not avail ourselves of this lucky time: our delays and difficulties were a fit prelude for a journey amongst those "Blameless Ethiopians," with whom no less a personage than august Jove can dine and depart.[2]
On Sunday, the 29th October, 1854, our manifold impediments were pronounced complete. Friend S. threw the slipper of blessing at my back, and about 4 p.m. embarking from Maala Bunder, we shook out our "muslin," and sailed down the fiery harbour. Passing the guard-boat, we delivered our permit; before venturing into the open sea we repeated the Fátihah-prayer in honour of the
- ↑ The 6th of Safar in 1854 corresponds with our 28th October. The Hadis is اذا خرج سته من الصفر خرج امتي من الدفر "when the 6th of Safar went forth, my faith from the cloud came forth."
- ↑ The Abyssinian law of detaining guests—Pedro Covilhaõ, the first Portuguese envoy (A.D. 1499), lived and died a prisoner there—appears to have been the Christian modification of the old Ethiopic rite of sacrificing strangers.
