REACH DULHULL. 75 



we came to an open bare spot, over which I could 

 see, by the drift wood and large rolled stones, that 

 during the wet season a torrent must rush into the 

 sea. Here we were to halt for the rest of the day. 

 A large Kafilah of natives going to Tajourah had 

 spent the night in the same place, and were just 

 leaving as our small party of pedestrians arrived, 

 the time being the dawn of day, and we having 

 been two hours on the march. 



The name of this halting-place was Dulhull. I 

 sat down on a large stone, at a short turn in the 

 otherwise nearly direct line of the sea-shore from east 

 to west, which admitted of a tine view of the Bay of 

 Tajourah and the distant sea. The sun, " from 

 ocean rising," quickly dissolved the last shades of 

 night, and one of the most lovely scenes my eyes 

 ever beheld extended before me. All the azure 

 and golden tinting of that imaginative painter, 

 Turner, was realized, and I silently acknowledged 

 the injustice of my premature judgment, in con- 

 sidering his pictures very pleasing, but most 

 unnatural. The gorgeous apparel of the cloud- 

 robed sun, the silvery play of the nearly calm 

 reflecting surface of the sea; the blue rocks of 

 the opposite Soumaulee shore ; the palm-tree fringe 

 of the waving line of coast, along which I had just- 

 been travelling ; the distant view of Tajourah, and 

 the quiet of its little merchant fleet, aided in pro- 

 ducing an effect of enjoyment in my mind, that 

 perhaps owed some portion of its charm to the 



