OUR ENCAMPMENT. 169 



to the knees, from stone to stone, for several miles, 

 a few tufts of dry wirelike grass offering but a 

 poor excuse for vegetation. Snakes, however, 

 found here sustenance, and a coarse-looking tuber- 

 culated lizard, sunned itself upon the hot black 

 stones, and being nearly of the same colour, its 

 sudden dart to a hole beneath, only made the 

 traveller aware of its presence. Deep fissures, not 

 seen until we were close to them, traversed the 

 plain in directions nearly north-east and south-west, 

 and sometimes long low ridges of erupted rock, 

 appeared just above the otherwise level surface. 



Where w r e halted were a few stunted mimosa 

 trees, low and dry, scarcely to be distinguished from 

 the characteristic grass of this district, and pro- 

 mising but a very scanty repast, to the one hundred 

 and thirty or one hundred and forty camels belonging 

 to our Kafilah ; and worse than this, not a drop of 

 water was to be found in the neighbourhood. 

 It was, in fact, another " deserted village," consist- 

 ing only of the remains of little stone enclosures, 

 about three feet in diameter, covered on the top 

 with bushes, where it is usual, for the Bedouin 

 shepherds, to secure for the night, the young of their 

 flocks from the depredations of wild beasts. Here 

 was also a large circular wall, of loose stones, about 

 four feet high, in which the older herds were kept. 



One of these enclosures, w T e found large enough 

 to form my house for the day, and my carpet was 

 laid over the open top as a roof, whilst mats were 



