MYSTIC NEDJEI^, "THE SHIA MECCA 



595 



mosque, burning in the sun rays ; then, 

 as we drew nearer, the high, frowning 

 walls that surround the sacred city came 

 into view (see page 594). It was a gor- 

 geous spectacle, mirage-like vision, as of 

 a mighty city floating in the air. The 

 high, sharp walls shut it off abruptly 

 from the desert, and it seemed a mighty 

 thing apart from the surrounding sea of 

 sand. In a few moments we were passing 

 through the acres of graves outside the 

 walls and soon arrived at the city gate. 



The sight of a white man riding into 

 Nedjef upset the guards at the gate very 

 noticeably; they seized the rein of Na- 

 omi's donkey, gestured wildly in my di- 

 rection, and quickly drew a copious flow 

 of potent Arabic profanity from the zap- 

 tiehs. These latter worthies, now sud- 

 denly become very important, abused the 

 lowly guards to perfection, and demanded 

 that we be conducted immediately to the 

 Kaimakam (a sort of subgoverner) . 

 Followed by hundreds of Arabs — as 

 many as could crowd into the plaza about 

 us — we were taken to the Belladieh, 

 where I met the Kaimakam (a Turk). 

 It was now quite dark, and I was pleased 

 to follow the Kaimakam's advice, that we 

 turn in and "see Nedjef" next day. 



We spent the night in a fairly com- 

 fortable khan, sleeping on its flat mud- 

 roof Moorish fashion. From the house- 

 tops about came the dull rattle of tom- 

 toms and the sound of Arab women's 

 voices, singing to the accompaniment of 

 their jangling tambourines. Two cap- 

 tive desert lions, caged on a roof near 

 the khan, roared at intervals during the 

 night, and each time they roared I awak- 

 ened, startled by the unusual sound. 



A fre;ak city 



Nedjef is a freak city. Not a green 

 thing — a plant, shrub, or tree — lives 

 within its dry, hot limits. It is built on 

 a high plain of soft sandstone. The nar- 

 row, crooked streets, in many places mere 

 passages 3 or 4 feet wide, wind about like 

 jungle paths. But for the four zaptiehs 

 sent with me as a guard by the friendly 

 Kaimakam, I must soon have lost my 

 way when I set forth to see Nedjef. 



For more than an hour we followed 

 these narrow passages that lead through 

 the Arab quarter. The mud-plastered 



houses were all two stories high and, odd 

 as it sounds, had no windows facing the 

 street. Only a wooden door, massive and 

 bolt-studded, but so low that one must 

 stoop to enter, opened to the street. As 

 we threaded the cramped, crooked paths 

 we came frequently on small Arab chil- 

 dren playing before these doorways. In- 

 variably they took one look at me, doubt- 

 less the first white man they had seen, 

 and fled screaming through the low door- 

 ways. An instant later I would hear the 

 startled voices of women, and then the 

 hurried sliding of the great door bars. 



Three or four times, in turning a sharp 

 curve in the warped gloomy street, I 

 came face to. face with veiled Arab 

 women. At sight of me through the 

 odd peep-holes, in their black veils they 

 whirled about and dashed hastily into the 

 first friendly doorway with many excla- 

 mations of surprise. Often, when we 

 had passed a little beyond these women, 

 I heard them burst into shrieks of hys- 

 terical laughter. 



One of the strange features of this 

 strange city is its cellars. In summer 

 the fierce heat drives the panting people 

 deep down into the earth, like rats in a 

 hole. Beneath every house is a cellar, 

 burrowed mine-like to amazing depths ; 

 one I explored reached an astoundingly 

 low level, being more than 100 feet below 

 the street. Down into these damp, dark 

 holes the Shias flee when the scorching 

 desert air sizzles above and imported 

 German thermometers stand at 130 Fah- 

 renheit. Some of the cellars (serdabs) 

 are arranged in a tier of cells or rooms, 

 one below the other; the upper room is 

 used in the first hot months, the family 

 going lower down as the heat increases. 



So many of these vast underground 

 retreats have been dug that the excavated 

 material, carried from the city on don- 

 keys' backs and dumped on the desert 

 outside, forms a young mountain over 100 

 feet high, from the top of which a fine 

 view of the city may be had. I was told 

 that many of these serdabs are connected 

 by means of underground corridors, and 

 that criminals, who swarm in Nedjef, 

 easily elude capture by passing through 

 these tunnels from house to house, finally 

 emerging at a point in the city remote 

 from their place of disappearance. 



