After an hour most amusingly spent in this way, I arose, and insisted upon mounting, much to the dissatisfaction of my guides, who wished to sleep there.  Shaykh Nassar and his brother had reckoned upon living gratis, for at least three days, judging it improbable that a soft Effendi would hurry himself.  When they saw the fair vision dissolve, they began to finesse:  they induced the camel-man, who ran by the side of Mohammed’s dromedary, to precede the animal-a favourite manoeuvre to prevent overspeed.  Ordered to fall back, the man pleaded fatigue, and inability to walk.  The boy Mohammed immediately asked if I had any objection to dismount one of my guides, and to let his weary attendant ride for an hour or so.  I at once assented, and the Badawin obeyed me with ominous grumblings.  When we resumed our march the melancholy Arabs had no song left in them; whereas Mohammed chaunted vociferously, and quoted

[p.154]bad Hindustani and worse Persian till silence was forcibly imposed upon him.  The camel-men lagged behind, in order to prevent my dromedary advancing too fast, and the boy’s guide, after dismounting, would stride along in front of us, under pretext of showing the way.  And so we jogged on, now walking, then trotting, till the dromedaries began to grunt with fatigue, and the Arabs clamoured for a halt.

At midnight we reached the Central Station, and lay down under its walls to take a little rest.  The dews fell heavily, wetting the sheets that covered us; but who cares for such trifles in the Desert?  The moon shone bright;[FN#21] the breeze blew coolly, and the jackal sang a lullaby which lost no time in inducing the soundest sleep.  As the Wolf’s Tail[FN#22] showed in the heavens we arose.  Grey mists floating over the hills northwards gave the Dar al-Bayda,[FN#23] the Pasha’s Palace, the look of some old feudal castle.  There was a haze in the atmosphere, which beautified even the face of Desolation.  The swift flying Kata[FN#24] sprang in noisy coveys from the road, and a stray gazelle paced daintily over the stony plain.  As we passed by the Pilgrims’ tree, I

[p.155]added another rag to its coat of tatters.[FN#25] We then invoked the aid of the holy saint Al-Dakruri[FN#26] from his cream-coloured abode, mounted our camels, and resumed the march in real earnest.  The dawn passed away in its delicious coolness, and sultry morning came on.  Then day glared in its fierceness, and the noontide sun made the plain glow with terrible heat.  Still we pressed onwards.

At 3 P.M. we turned off the road into a dry water-course, which is not far from No. 13 Station.  The sand was dotted with the dried-up leaves of the Datura, and strongly perfumed by “Shih,” a kind of Absinthe (Artemisia),[FN#27] the sweetest herb of the Desert.  A Mimosa was there, and although its shade at this season is little better than