HAJER-EL-HAMIS 207 



the same way that pilgrims follow now, from the little 

 village half a mile away from the sacred hills. 



Nothing grows on the thick sandy soil except high 

 spiky grasses and pale grey fleshy -leafed asclepias. 

 At the base of the hills boulders and tiny stones 

 carpet the ground, and among them small antelope 

 shelter so fearlessly that they did not move till we 

 were close upon them. 



The rocks are magnificently rugged. The eflect is 

 of irregular fluted columns, intersected by many caves. 

 These are inhabited by strange fluffy owls and mil- 

 lions of blue pigeons, the descendants perhaps of 

 that messenger dove who brought the olive branch 

 to the Ark. 



Suddenly the guide pointed to the first of the hills, 

 and there on a shoulder of jagged rock we saw gaping 

 wide the entrance to a vast natural chamber. It was 

 the sacrificial hall. There was no path to it, and we 

 each chose our own way through the wilderness of 

 stone, scrambling from one boulder to another till the 

 ledge was reached. Here we found ourselves opposite 

 an alcove in the rocks, with high seats on either side 

 of a huge window, as one might see in some ancient 

 fortress. The sacred temple lies beside it, large, lonely, 

 and empty. It is light, for there is a narrow slit in 

 the rock, like some bastion window, and at the farther 

 end a broad arch opens wide to the day ; but there is 

 no exit, only a small round ledge of rock, and then a 

 sheer drop into space. Slowly we turned and left the 

 cave, retracing our steps till we reached the valley, 

 and then, our minds still filled with pictures of the 

 past, we wandered on amidst the hills. 



Suddenly I found myself alone on the rise of a gorge, 



