At five P.M., travelling towards the East, we entered a Bughaz,[FN#4]
or Pass, which follows the course of a wide Fiumara, walled in by steep
and barren hills,—the portals of a region too wild even for Badawin. The
torrent-bed narrowed where the turns were abrupt, and the drift of
heavy stones, with a water-mark from six to seven feet
[p.62] high, showed that after rains a violent stream runs from East
and South-East to West and North-West. The fertilising fluid is close
to the surface, evidenced by a spare growth of Acacia, camel-grass, and
at some angles of the bed by the Daum, or Theban palm.[FN#5] I remarked
what was technically called “Hufrah,” holes dug for water in the sand; and
the guide assured me that somewhere near there is a spring flowing from
the rocks.
After the long and sultry afternoon, beasts of burden began to sink in
numbers. The fresh carcases of asses, ponies, and camels dotted the
wayside: those that had been allowed to die were abandoned to the foul
carrion-birds, the Rakham (vulture), and the yellow Ukab; and all whose
throats had been properly cut, were surrounded by troops of Takruri
pilgrims. These half-starved wretches cut steaks from the choice
portions, and slung them over their shoulders till an opportunity of
cooking might arrive.
