under tall arcades of palms with ribbed and groined branches, in a soft meadow, i found the trim camp of egyptian army soldiers with nafi bey, their egyptian major, sent lately from the sudan by sir reginald wingate to help the arab rebellion. they comprised a mountain battery and some machine-guns, and looked smarter than they felt. nafi himself was an amiable fellow, kind and hospitable to me in spite of weak health and his resentment at having been sent so far away into the desert to serve in an unnecessary and toilsome war.

egyptians, being home-loving persons and comfortable, found strangeness always a misery. in this bad instance they suffered hardship for a philanthropic end, which made it harder. they were fighting the turks, for whom they had a sentimental regard, on behalf of the arabs, an alien people speaking a language kindred to their own, but appearing therefore all the more unlike in character, and crude in life. the arabs seemed hostile to the material blessings of civilization rather than appreciative of them. they met with a ribald hoot well-meaning attempts to furnish their bareness.

englishmen being sure of their own absolute excellence would persist in help without grumbling overmuch; but the egyptians lost faith. they had neither that collective sense of duty towards their state, nor that feeling of individual obligation to push struggling humanity up its road. the vicarious policemanship which was the strongest emotion of englishmen towards another man’s muddle, in their case was replaced by the instinct to pass by as discreetly far as possible on the other side. so, though all was well with these soldiers, and they had abundant rations and good health and no casualties, yet they found fault with the handling of the universe, and hoped this unexpected englishman had come to set it right.

feisal was announced with maulud el mukhlus, the arab zealot of tekrit, who, for rampant nationalism had been twice degraded in the turkish army, and had spent an exile of two years in nejd as a secretary with ibn rashid. he had commanded the turkish cavalry before shaiba, and had been taken by us there. as soon as he heard of the rebellion of the sherif he had volunteered for him, and had been the first regular officer to join feisal. he was now nominally his a.d.c.

bitterly he complained that they were in every way ill-equipped. this was the main cause of their present plight. they got thirty thousand pounds a month from the sherif, but little flour and rice, little barley, few rifles, insufficient ammunition, no machine-guns, no mountain guns, no technical help, no information.

i stopped maulud there and said that my coming was expressly to learn what they lacked and to report it, but that i could work with them only if they would explain to me their general situation. feisal agreed, and began to sketch to me the history of their revolt from its absolute beginning.

the first rush on medina had been a desperate business. the arabs were ill-armed and short of ammunition, the turks in great force, since fakhri’s detachment had just arrived and the troops to escort von stotzingen to yemen were still in the town. at the height of the crisis the beni ali broke; and the arabs were thrust out beyond the walls. the turks then opened fire on them with their artillery; and the arabs, unused to this new arm, became terrified. the ageyl and ateiba got into safety and refused to move out again. feisal and ali ibn el hussein vainly rode about in front of their men in the open, to show them that the bursting shells were not as fatal as they sounded. the demoralization deepened.

sections of beni ali tribesmen approached the turkish command with an offer to surrender, if their villages were spared. fakhri played with them, and in the ensuing lull of hostilities surrounded the awali suburb with his troops: then suddenly he ordered them to carry it by assault and to massacre every living thing within its walls. hundreds of the inhabitants were raped and butchered, the houses fired, and living and dead alike thrown back into the flames. fakhri and his men had served together and had learned the arts of both the slow and the fast kill upon the armenians in the north.

this bitter taste of the turkish mode of war sent a shock across arabia; for the first rule of arab war was that women were inviolable: the second that the lives and honour of children too young to fight with men were to be spared: the third, that property impossible to carry off should be left undamaged. the arabs with feisal perceived that they were opposed to new customs, and fell back out of touch to gain time to readjust themselves. there could no longer be any question of submission: the sack of awali had opened blood feud upon blood feud, and put on them the duty of fighting to the end of their force: but it was plain now that it would be a long affair, and that with muzzle-loading guns for sole weapons, they could hardly expect to win.

so they fell back from the level plains about medina into the hills across the sultani-road, about aar and raha and bir abbas, where they rested a little, while ali and feisal sent messenger after messenger down to rabegh, their sea-base, to learn when fresh stores and money and arms might be expected. the revolt had begun haphazard, on their father’s explicit orders, and the old man, too independent to take his sons into his full confidence, had not worked out with them any arrangements for prolonging it. so the reply was only a little food. later some japanese rifles, most of them broken, were received. such barrels as were still whole were so foul that the too-eager arabs burst them on the first trial. no money was sent up at all: to take its place feisal filled a decent chest with stones, had it locked and corded carefully, guarded on each daily march by his own slaves, and introduced meticulously into his tent each night. by such theatricals the brothers tried to hold a melting force.

at last ali went down to rabegh to inquire what was wrong with the organization. he found that hussein mabeirig, the local chief, had made up his mind that the turks would be victorious (he had tried conclusions with them twice himself and had the worst of it), and accordingly decided theirs was the best cause to follow. as the stores for the sherif were landed by the british he appropriated them and stored them away secretly in his own houses. ali made a demonstration, and sent urgent messages for his half-brother zeid to join him from jidda with reinforcements. hussein, in fear, slipped off to the hills, an outlaw. the two sherifs took possession of his villages. in them they found great stores of arms, and food enough for their armies for a month. the temptation of a spell of leisured ease was too much for them: they settled down in rabegh.

this left feisal alone up country, and he soon found himself isolated, in a hollow situation, driven to depend upon his native resources. he bore it for a time, but in august took advantage of the visit of colonel wilson to the newly-conquered yenbo, to come down and give a full explanation of his urgent needs. wilson was impressed with him and his story, and at once promised him a battery of mountain guns and some maxims, to be handled by men and officers of the egyptian army garrison in the sudan. this explained the presence of nafi bey and his units.

the arabs rejoiced when they came, and believed they were now equals of the turk; but the four guns were twenty-year-old krupps, with a range of only three thousand yards; and their crews were not eager enough in brain and spirit for irregular fighting. however, they went forward with the mob and drove in the turkish outposts, and then their supports, until fakhri becoming seriously alarmed, came down himself, inspected the front, and at once reinforced the threatened detachment at bir abbas to some three thousand strong. the turks had field guns and howitzers with them, and the added advantage of high ground for observation. they began to worry the arabs by indirect fire, and nearly dropped a shell on feisal’s tent while all the head men were conferring within. the egyptian gunners were asked to return the fire and smother the enemy guns. they had to plead that their weapons were useless, since they could not carry the nine thousand yards. they were derided; and the arabs ran back again into the defiles.

feisal was deeply discouraged. his men were tired. he had lost many of them. his only effective tactics against the enemy had been to chase in suddenly upon their rear by fast mounted charges, and many camels had been killed, or wounded or worn out in these expensive measures. he demurred to carrying the whole war upon his own neck while abdulla delayed in mecca, and ali and zeid at rabegh. finally he withdrew the bulk of his forces, leaving the harb sub-tribes who lived by bir abbas to keep up pressure on the turkish supply columns and communications by a repeated series of such raids as those which he himself found impossible to maintain.

yet he had no fear that the turks would again come forward against him suddenly. his failure to make any impression on them had not imbued him with the smallest respect for them. his late retirement to hamra was not forced: it was a gesture of disgust because he was bored by his obvious impotence, and was determined for a little while to have the dignity of rest.

after all, the two sides were still untried. the armament of the turks made them so superior at long range that the arabs never got to grips. for this reason most of the hand-to-hand fighting had taken place at night, when the guns were blinded. to my ears they sounded oddly primitive battles, with torrents of words on both sides in a preliminary match of wits. after the foulest insults of the languages they knew would come the climax, when the turks in frenzy called the arabs ‘english’, and the arabs screamed back ‘german’ at them. there were, of course, no germans in the hejaz, and i was the first englishman; but each party loved cursing, and any epithet would sting on the tongues of such artists.

i asked feisal what his plans were now. he said that till medina fell they were inevitably tied down there in hejaz dancing to fakhri’s tune. in his opinion the turks were aiming at the recapture of mecca. the bulk of their strength was now in a mobile column, which they could move towards rabegh by a choice of routes which kept the arabs in constant alarm. a passive defence of the subh hills had shown that the arabs did not shine as passive resisters. when the enemy moved they must be countered by an offensive.

feisal meant to retire further yet, to the wadi yenbo border of the great juheina tribe. with fresh levies from them he would march eastwards towards the hejaz railway behind medina, at the moment when abdulla was advancing by the lava-desert to attack medina from the east. he hoped that ali would go up simultaneously from rabegh, while zeid moved into wadi safra to engage the big turkish force at bir abbas, and keep it out of the main battle. by this plan medina would be threatened or attacked on all sides at once. whatever the success of the attack, the concentration from three sides would at least break up the prepared turkish push-outwards on the fourth, and give rabegh and the southern hejaz a breathing space to equip themselves for effective defence, or counter-attack.

maulud, who had sat fidgeting through our long, slow talk, could no longer restrain himself and cried out, ‘don’t write a history of us. the needful thing is to fight and fight and kill them. give me a battery of schneider mountain guns, and machine-guns, and i will finish this off for you. we talk and talk and do nothing.’ i replied as warmly; and maulud, a magnificent fighter, who regarded a battle won as a battle wasted if he did not show some wound to prove his part in it, took me up. we wrangled while feisal sat by and grinned delightedly at us.

this talk had been for him a holiday. he was encouraged even by the trifle of my coming; for he was a man of moods, flickering between glory and despair, and just now dead-tired. he looked years older than thirty-one; and his dark, appealing eyes, set a little sloping in his face, were bloodshot, and his hollow cheeks deeply lined and puckered with reflection. his nature grudged thinking, for it crippled his speed in action: the labour of it shrivelled his features into swift lines of pain. in appearance he was tall, graceful and vigorous, with the most beautiful gait, and a royal dignity of head and shoulders. of course he knew it, and a great part of his public expression was by sign and gesture.

his movements were impetuous. he showed himself hot-tempered and sensitive, even unreasonable, and he ran off soon on tangents. appetite and physical weakness were mated in him, with the spur of courage. his personal charm, his imprudence, the pathetic hint of frailty as the sole reserve of this proud character made him the idol of his followers. one never asked if he were scrupulous; but later he showed that he could return trust for trust, suspicion for suspicion. he was fuller of wit than of humour.

his training in abdul hamid’s entourage had made him past-master in diplomacy. his military service with the turks had given him a working knowledge of tactics. his life in constantinople and in the turkish parliament had made him familiar with european questions and manners. he was a careful judge of men. if he had the strength to realize his dreams he would go very far, for he was wrapped up in his work and lived for nothing else; but the fear was that he would wear himself out by trying to seem to aim always a little higher than the truth, or that he would die of too much action. his men told me how, after a long spell of fighting, in which he had to guard himself, and lead the charges, and control and encourage them, he had collapsed physically and was carried away from his victory, unconscious, with the foam flecking his lips.

meanwhile, here, as it seemed, was offered to our hand, which had only to be big enough to take it, a prophet who, if veiled, would give cogent form to the idea behind the activity of the arab revolt. it was all and more than we had hoped for, much more than our halting course deserved. the aim of my trip was fulfilled.

my duty was now to take the shortest road to egypt with the news: and the knowledge gained that evening in the palm wood grew and blossomed in my mind into a thousand branches, laden with fruit and shady leaves, beneath which i sat and half-listened and saw visions, while the twilight deepened, and the night; until a line of slaves with lamps came down the winding paths between the palm trunks, and with feisal and maulud we walked back through the gardens to the little house, with its courts still full of waiting people, and to the hot inner room in which the familiars were assembled; and there we sat down together to the smoking bowl of rice and meat set upon the food-carpet for our supper by the slaves.