Our party consisted of twelve camels, and we travelled in Indian file, head tied to tail, with but one outrider, Omar Effendi, whose rank required him to mount a dromedary with showy trappings.  Immediately in front of me was Amm Jamal, whom I had to reprove for asking the boy Mohammed, “Where have you picked up that Hindi, (Indian)?” “Are we, the Afghans, the Indian-slayers,[FN#1] become Indians?” I vociferated with indignation, and brought the thing home to his feelings, by asking him how he, an Arab, would like to be called an Egyptian,-a Fellah?  The rest of the party was behind, sitting or dozing upon the rough platforms made by the lids of the two huge boxes slung to the sides of their camels.  Only one old woman, Al-Sitt Maryam (the lady Mary), returning

[p.244] to Al-Madinah, her adopted country, after a visit to a sister at Cairo, allowed herself the luxury of a half-dollar Shibriyah or cot, fastened crosswise over the animal’s load.  Moreover, all the party, except Omar Effendi, in token of poverty, were dressed in the coarsest and dirtiest of clothes,-the general suit consisting of a shirt torn in divers places and a bit of rag wrapped round the head.  They carried short chibuks without mouth-pieces, and tobacco-pouches of greasy leather.  Though the country hereabouts is perfectly safe, all had their arms in readiness, and the unusual silence that succeeded to the singing, even Sa’ad the Demon held his tongue,-was sufficient to show how much they feared for their property.  After a slow march of two hours facing the moon, we turned somewhat towards the North-East, and began to pass over undulating ground, in which a steady rise was perceptible.  We arrived at the halting-place at three in the morning, after a short march of about eight hours, during which we could not have passed over more than sixteen miles.[FN#2] The camels were nakh’d[FN#3]; the boxes were taken off and piled together as a precaution against invisible robbers; my little tent, the only one in the party, was pitched; we then spread our rugs upon the ground and lay down to sleep.

We arose at about 9 A.M. (July 19), and after congratulating one another upon being once more in the “dear Desert,” we proceeded in exhilarated mood to light the fire for pipes and breakfast.  The meal-a biscuit, a little rice, and a cup of milkless tea-was soon dispatched, after which I proceeded to inspect our position.

[p.245]About a mile to the westward lay the little village Al-Musahhal,[FN#4] a group of miserable mud hovels.  On the south was a strip of bright blue sea, and all around, an iron plain producing naught but stones and grasshoppers, and bounded northward by a grisly wall of blackish rock.  Here and there a shrub fit only for fuel, or a tuft of coarse grass, crisp with heat, met the eye.  All was sun-parched; the furious heat from above was drying up the sap and juice of the land, as the simmering and quivering atmosphere showed; moreover the heavy dews of these regions, forming in large drops upon the plants and stones, concentrate the morning rays upon them like a system of burning-glasses.  After making these few observations I followed the example of my companions, and returned to sleep.