passed us on the way to their tents, which probably were at some hours' distance.

After a brief rest we again went forward through the sandy tract, diversified only by occasional groups of palms, and after proceeding some distance reached a gentle slope, which brought us to the sandy hill of Bar Sat Man, half-way to Bir el Abd. From there the road alternately rises and descends over bare sand ridges, and then passes down a declivity overgrown with rushes and grass to Bir el Aafin—"the stinking well," which contains but little water, and that almost putrid. In the distance we saw several flocks of goats in the charge of Bedouins, who inhabit the whole tract of country right up to the sea. We also met a caravan with horses, asses, and mules, which some Kurds were taking to Cairo, the leader himself—a man advanced in years, wearing a green turban—riding at their head on a handsome bay.

After reaching a point from which we could see in the distance the Jebel el Magara, a mountain spur of soft outline, we descended into a hollow. To our right, between sandy ridges, lay Garif Bir el Abd, an extensive Melleha, overgrown with rushes and purslane, and containing a small quantity of rain-water. The action of this water on the soil produces an excellent salt, which the Bedouins collect after evaporation at the beginning of the summer. The smooth firm surface of the salty ground of the Melleha, with bushes of purslane and Caucalis on either side, is a welcome change to both man and beast after so much laborious marching through the bare sand. The purslane, when fresh and green, is much relished by camels. In the Melleha we saw two laden with straw, with their Bedouin keepers.

Proceeding on our way, we soon found ourselves again in deep sand, and a little further came to a small Sepha. The road then rises gently over another sandy ridge to the funnel-shaped hollow of Bir el Abd—"the negro's well," where we were to stay the night. The place had also been chosen by some Bedouins for their encampment. As it was not at all late when we arrived, I climbed the sandy hill near, in order to make a sketch of the chain of the Magara, then illuminated by the setting sun (see illustration); and we afterwards went on to one of the cottages of the telegraph watchmen, who came forward to give us a friendly welcome. These men are Arabs, and live there with their families. They are provided with a small store of wire and a few insulators to enable them to keep the telegraph in working order. They are placed at intervals all along the line to Syria, the first station being the one I mentioned at Katya, each man having a separate section to superintend. This arrangement is absolutely necessary in consequence of the damage occasioned by the violent winds which sometimes sweep over the desert. At Bir el Abd there are two men, each with a separate house, built of tiles, and a flat roof of the stalks of palm leaves. The lonesome and uneventful life of these men seems strange enough when one thinks of the important news constantly flashing over their heads, for the uninterrupted transmission of which they are chiefly responsible. We conversed with them for some little time, and gathered that they would be well contented with their lot but for their anxiety on account of the frequent danger to which their dwellings are exposed from the strong, sand-bearing wind, called Hampsin. Little indeed is requisite to satisfy the frugal and pious Arab. Bidding them farewell, we returned to the tents and retired to rest soon after our meal.

IV.

FROM BIR EL ABD TO BIR EL MAGARA.

LEHOCHOMU-MELLEHA.

By six o'clock the next morning all were stirring, and at seven we struck our tents. Ascending from the hollow in which Bir el Abd is situated, we came to an acclivity known as El Homda Bir el Abd, overlooking the extended chain of Jebel el Magara in the distance. This was followed by a flat piece of ground, upon which little was growing beyond a number of plants of wormwood (Artemisia monosperma), and a kind of prickly gray-leaved shrub with blue blossoms. Our path then brought us to a Melleha with a few rushes, where the water was almost entirely dried up, leaving a bed of salt. A little later we passed across a plain of an almost uniform level, which appeared bounded to the right by the high hills in the distance. On the same side is situated Bir el Mabruka—"Well of the Mabruka," towards which we saw a party of Bedouins making their way. This plain is succeeded by hilly ground, distinguished as El Bassoul—"the onions," where white-blossomed broom with thin leaves is met with, and, in a slight declivity, a few bushes. From El Bassoul the road descends gently through a sandy tract, from which to the left we saw the great Lehochomu Melleha, with a mirage effect of such remarkable vividness as to make us think we had the open sea before us (see illustration). At this part of our journey we met two Bedouins, who greeted us with much ceremony. Here too, scattered about, we found specimens of Caucalis. Our course then lay through drearily uniform sandy ground, of somewhat broken configuration, and covered with bushy vegetation, where we passed a telegraph post bearing the notice that it was half-way between Bir el Abd and Bir el Magara. Here we overtook our camels, which, as usual, had preceded us; but we sent them on again, as we decided to pause for our midday meal. The wind being in the south, the air was terribly oppressive, and I felt some apprehension of the Hampsin. We accordingly pitched our tent in a hollow, overgrown with rushes, where we were to some extent protected from the scorching blasts. All our provisions were covered with the fine sand with which the air was filled. We were passed by two travelling companies of Bedouins, whom we had already seen on the road taking their scanty meal. An old woman came up to us to ask for a drop of water. Glad as we should have been to accommodate the poor creature, we dared not do so, lest we should have had a visit from the whole troop of Bedouins on the same errand, when our store would very soon have been exhausted. A youth of eighteen, to whom we gave a pipeful of tobacco, also begged for a little water, but we had to refuse him too.

Being anxious to get on, we did not rest more than an hour. Continuing to follow the telegraph posts, we came to a hilly, sandy district, called El Brej, a most fatiguing section of the route, and much dreaded by the Bedouins on account of the almost entire absence of water. To the right is a small hollow where, by digging to some depth, just enough may be found to moisten the sand, but it is so saline that it aggravates the thirst instead of appeasing it. As we went on, the wind increased in violence. We met a number of Bedouins greatly suffering from thirst and heat, who asked us for a little water. It was most heartrending to see young children toiling along, and to hear them entreating their parents for a draught. Even now I can fancy I hear their piteous lamentations, as one after the other they tried to drain a drop from the empty clay bottles. One family I remember particularly; it consisted of an old man and three little children, the two younger of whom were mounted upon an emaciated old donkey, while the eldest, a thin, sunburnt lad, walked with the old man behind. As the poor beast was struggling up a sandy slope, its two