CH. XIX.] The Desert Lark. 71 



the desert lark, a bird with such a curious soug that 

 I am surprised no fanciful traveller has ever thought 

 it worth while to romance about it. It is a little 

 brown bird with a speckled breast which sits gene- 

 rally on the top of a bush, and every now and then 

 makes a short flight showing some light feathers in 

 its wings, and then suddenly closes them and dives 

 down to its perch. While it does this it sings a 

 touching melody. 



When we first heard it four years ago in the 

 Sahara we were quite taken in, supposing it to Ije 

 one of the Arabs w^ith us, whistling to amuse 

 himself. The quality of the tone is so like that 

 of the human voice, that we had some trouble 

 in tracing the song to its right owner. The 

 birds generally sit in pairs, and it is only one of 

 them which sings. The song at the head of 

 this chapter was suggested by it, and by a cer- 

 tain air one of our camel men was singing the 

 same day. 



Our party now consists of Hanna, Ferhan and 

 Ghanim, our own men; of Mr. S.'s two servants; 

 Jazzer the Mehed ; jMohammed, and a certain cousin 

 of his, Mohammed of Homs, bound on business to 

 the Anazeh. It is of him that we bought the 

 donkey yesterday, and now he has laid out two 

 pounds of its price in the purchase of another 

 donkey, no larger than a Newfoundland dog on 

 which he sometimes straddles, with his feet on the 

 ground — it is difficult to call it riding. AVe had 



