212 SIR VICTOR BROOKE CHAP. 



Tuesday, 5 th March. Another bitterly cold morning. 

 Garstin and I stopped to see the camels start. Got off 

 about eight. Found we had been camping on a highish 

 plateau, hence the cold. Descended some 200 feet 

 into a flat tract of desert which stretched away to El 

 Webed, the mountains running directly east and west. I 

 held straight away for the west end, the sheikh and the 

 others wasting time in making a long curve to the east 

 through a tract of bushes, in hopes of raising a hare for 

 the falcons. This, if orders had been given for the baggage 

 camels to go straight to the camping-place, would not 

 have mattered ; but as it was, they followed the sheikh 

 and wasted at least an hour thereby. At last we 

 arrived at the camping -place a little before twelve. 

 While the camels were coming up, the others took shelter 

 under a rock, but I went off some 300 yards to spy 

 the precipices which ran along the north side of the 

 Webed. It is an isolated range, about 6 miles long, 

 1500 feet high, and cut into gorges and valleys all 

 more or less steep, and very suitable for any wild goat, 

 though, on the whole, easy ground. There is no 

 vegetation whatever, with the exception of lichen on 

 the ridges, but in all the hollows there are very 

 aromatic desert plants, these now flowering with red 

 flowers. There is not a drop of water on the hill, nor 

 for miles around. I had looked at the precipices in 

 sight and was resting before spying again, when a black 

 spot to the right, on one of the nearer ridges, caught my 

 eye, and on putting up the glass I saw the grandest 

 old ibex one could wish to see, standing on the sky- 

 line quite unalarmed and gazing around him. Never 

 in my life have I seen any horned beast with horns so 

 out of proportion to his body. I could see he was very 

 thin, and I am sure he is as old as the hills themselves. 

 After a minute's survey he turned and went slowly 



