Memoirs of an Arabian Princess | Page 9

another eunuch had been ordered to
accompany us by the Sultan, who watched us from the benjile. Our
friends saw us to the door with weeping eyes, and their sorrowful
"Wedah! Wedah!" (Good-bye! Good-bye!) rings in my ears to this very
day.
Our beach was rather shallow, and we had no landing stage of any sort.
There were three methods, however, of reaching your boat. You sat on
a chair, which was transported by lusty sailor-men; or you mounted on
one of their backs; or you simply walked across by a plank from the dry
sand to the edge of the craft, and this was the method chosen by my
mother, only she was supported on either side by a wading eunuch.
Another eunuch carried me over, and put me down in the stern with my
mother and old Johar. The cutter was lit with coloured lamps, and as
soon as we started the rowers intoned a slow rhythmic chant, according
to Arabian custom. We skirted the coast-line, as usual, while I went fast
asleep. I was awakened by the sound of many voices calling out my
name. Decidedly startled, though half drowsy, I observed that we were
arriving at our destination. The boat stopped almost under the windows
of Bet il Sahel; they were brilliantly illuminated, and full of spectors,
mostly my strange brothers and sisters and stepmothers. Some of the
children were younger than myself, and no less anxious to make my
acquaintance than I theirs; it was they who clamoured for me so loudly
when the expected cutter appeared. The landing was accomplished in
the same manner as the embarkation. My young brothers greeted me
with more than enthusiasm, insisting, too, that we must accompany
them at once; but my mother of course declined, since otherwise
Chaduji, who was then already waiting at the window of her own house,
would have been disappointed by the delay. To be sure I was grieved
enough at not being allowed to go with my brothers and sisters

immediately, having long looked forward to that happy moment, yet I
knew my mother well enough to be aware that she would not change
her mind once it was made up; despite her incomparably unselfish love
toward me, she was always quite firm and resolute. Meanwhile she
comforted me by promising to take me to Bet il Sahel for a whole day
upon my father's return thither.
[Photograph by A. C. Gomes & Co., Zanzibar]
SEA FRONT OF THE CITY OF ZANZIBAR.
So we passed on to Bet il Watoro, Majid's house, which lay quite close
to Bet il Sahel, and likewise commanded a fine view of the sea. We
found my sister Chaduji awaiting us at the foot of the stairs. She
welcomed us right heartily to Bet il Watoro, and led us to her
apartments, where a servant soon brought us all kinds of refreshments.
Majid and his friends remained in the anteroom, not being allowed to
come up until Chaduji sent permission by my mother's request. And
how delighted that splendid, noble Majid was at being able to welcome
us to his home!
Our own room was of fair size, and from it was visible a neighbouring
mosque. It was furnished like most Arabian rooms, and we found
nothing lacking. One room was sufficient for us; wearing the same sort
of clothes by night as by day, people of rank, with their fastidious
cleanliness, can easily dispense with special rooms set apart for
sleeping. Persons of wealth and distinction arrange their dwellings
about as follows:
Persian carpets or daintily woven, soft mats cover the floor. The thick
whitewashed walls are divided into compartments running
perpendicularly from floor to ceiling, and these niches contain tiers of
wooden shelves painted green, forming a succession of brackets. On
the brackets stand arrayed the most exquisite and costly articles of glass
and china, in symmetrical order. An Arab does not care what he spends
in adorning his niches; let a handsomely painted plate or a tasteful vase
or a delicately cut glass cost what it may, if it looks well he buys it. An
effort is made to hide the bare spaces of wall between the

compartments. Tall mirrors are put there, reaching from the low divan
to the ceiling; they are usually ordered from Europe, with the
dimensions exactly specified. Mahometans disapprove of pictures as
trying to imitate the Divine creation, but latterly this objection has been
losing force to some extent. Clocks, on the other hand, are in great
vogue, and in a single house one often sees a whole collection; some
are placed at the top of the mirrors and some in pairs on either side.
In the gentlemen's rooms the walls are decorated with trophies of
valuable weapons from Arabia, Persia, and