Hai!” switching the camel, and
fruitlessly endeavouring to fustigate Mas’ud’s nephew, who resolutely slept
upon the water-bags. During the hours of darkness we made four or five
halts, when we boiled coffee and smoked pipes; but man and beasts were
beginning to suffer from a deadly fatigue.
Dawn (Saturday, Sept. 10th) found us still travelling down the Fiumara,
which here is about a hundred yards broad. The granite hills on both
sides were less precipitous; and the borders of the torrent-bed became
natural quays of stiff clay, which showed a water-mark of from twelve
to fifteen feet in height. In many parts the bed was muddy; and the
moist places, as usual, caused accidents. I happened to be looking back
at Shaykh Abdullah, who was then riding in old Ali bin Ya Sin’s fine
Shugduf; suddenly the camel’s four legs disappeared from under him, his
right side flattening the ground, and the two riders were pitched
severally out of the smashed vehicle. Abdullah started up furious, and
with great zest abused the Badawin, who were absent. “Feed these Arabs,” he
exclaimed, quoting a Turkish proverb, “and
[p.147] they will fire at Heaven!” But I observed that, when Shaykh Mas’ud
came up, the citizen was only gruff.
We then turned Northward, and sighted Al-Mazik, more generally known as
Wady Laymun, the Valley of Limes.
