We lost the best part of the morning, our men not being able to find their camels, which had roamed over the whole wady. Our road was almost the same as that by which I had returned the previous day; and we encamped in the Wady Sófejín, on a spot free from bushes. From this place, accompanied by the Zintáni, I visited, the next morning, the castle or convent in Shʿabet Um el kharáb, which I have described, and thence struck across the stony plateau in order to overtake our caravan. It was a desolate level, rarely adorned with humble herb or flower; and we hastened our steps to reach our companions. Here I heard, from the Zintáni, that his father came every year about this season, with his flocks, to the valleys east of our road, and that he would certainly be there this year also. He invited me to go thither with him, and to indulge in milk to the extent of my wishes; as for myself, I declined, but allowed him to go, on condition that he would return to us as soon as possible.

Even after we had overtaken the caravan, the country continued in general very bare; but we passed some valleys affording a good deal of herbage or adorned with some fine batúm-trees. About five o’clock P.M. we encamped in Wady Talha, not far from a Roman castle or tower on a hill to our left. On visiting the ruin, I found it built of rough stones without cement, being about twenty feet square in the interior, with rounded corners, and with only one narrow gate, towards the east. But this was not the only remnant of antiquity in the neighbourhood, for in front of us, on the plateau, there appeared something like a tower of greater elevation; and proceeding early the next morning, when our people had only begun to load, to examine it, I found it to be a Roman sepulchre, originally consisting apparently of three stories; but of these only the base and the first story remain, while the stones belonging to the upper one are now scattered on the ground, and show that it was ornamented with small Corinthian columns at the corners. Even in the most desolate spot, everything left by the Romans has a peculiar finish. The first story, being all that at present remains, measures 5 ft. 4 in. on the east and west, and 5 ft. 9 in. on the north and south sides. Not far from this sepulchre are the ruins of another one, of which, however, nothing but the base remains, if, indeed, it was ever completed. By the time my drawing was finished, the caravan had come up.

I then passed several detached cones, the steep precipitous sides of which, formed by the breaking away of the strata, looked like so many castles, and traversing Wady Marsíd, reached the camels. They marched to-day at a very good rate, the quickest we had as yet observed in ordinary travelling—namely, half a mile in twelve minutes, making a little less than two and a half miles an hour; but we afterwards found that this had now become our usual rate, whereas before reaching Mizda we had scarcely ever exceeded two miles an hour. The load of the camels, of course, had been heavier in the beginning; but this can hardly be the only reason of the difference. The greater dreariness of the country, and the impulse of our camel-drivers and their beasts to get to their homes, must be taken into account. I must here observe that Overweg and I measured our rate repeatedly, with a chain provided by Government, although it was a very fatiguing labour, and injurious to our dignity in the eyes of our people. Gradually the day grew very uncomfortable, a hot west wind driving the sand into our faces, and totally obscuring the sky. Keeping along the Wady Téroth, sometimes more than a mile wide, we had on our left a broad mount, rising first with a gradual ascent, but in its upper part forming a steep and lofty wall called el Khaddamíyeh. Here, too, according to the information of my faithful Arab, there is said to be a Roman sepulchre. Having passed a small defile, and crossed another valley, we had other Roman ruins on our right, a castle as it seemed, and near it something like a sepulchre; but the sand-storm hardly allowed us to look, still less to go in that direction.

At three o’clock in the afternoon we turned off to the west into Wady Tagíje, and encamped near the bed of a torrent eight feet deep, which amply testifies that, at times, a considerable stream is formed here, a fact confirmed by the fresh and luxuriant herbage springing up in many parts of the valley among thick bushes and brushwood. Nor was it quite desolate even now; for the flocks of the Welád Bu-Séf were seen, and their tents were said to be not far off. The upper part of the valley is called el Khúrub.

This hot day proved a dies ater to my Arab, who had gone to visit his family. Having brought his old father with him, together with a goat, as a present, and a skin of milk, he unluckily arrived too late in the morning at our last night’s encampment. He then sent his father back with the goat, and began to follow us in the hope of soon overtaking the caravan; but he was obliged to march the whole intensely hot day without water, and he could not drink the milk in the skin, which became quite hot, so that he suffered greatly, and arrived in a very exhausted state.

The fine herbage procured us a whole day’s rest, as the camel-drivers were in no haste to bring up their camels. Not knowing this, but yet convinced that we should not start at an early hour, as the well was at some distance, and following the information received from the Zintáni, who was himself too lame to accompany me, I had taken my gun and pistols at an early hour in the morning, and gone in the direction of the valley to look after a monument. After nearly two hours’ march I distinguished something like a high pillar, and, proceeding straight towards it, found it to be one of the richest specimens of this kind of monument bequeathed to us by antiquity, and an indisputable proof that these regions, now so poor, must have then supported a population sufficiently advanced in taste and feeling to admire works of a refined character.

The monument rises, upon a base of three steps and in three stories, nearly to a height of forty-eight feet. The base contains a sepulchral chamber 4 ft. 10⅓ in. long, and 4 ft. ⅛ in. broad, with three niches, one on the north, and two on the east side. This side was the principal face of the monument, forming its most ornamented part. The first story measures at its base on the east and west sides 5 ft 5⅜ in., and on the north and south sides 4 ft. 10⅛ in.: it consists of six layers of stones, on the lowest of which is represented a pair of wild animals, probably panthers, with their fore legs or paws resting upon a sepulchral urn, as if they were watching it; on the next layer above is seen the handsome bust of a young female; two layers intervene without sculpture; and the fifth is ornamented on all the four sides with hunting-scenes. The frieze on every side is formed by four rosettes; but that on the north side has some additional decoration, the second rosette on that side, from the east, exhibiting a group of centaurs, and the fourth a cock. Upon this part of the frieze is a garland of clusters of grapes; then follows the moulding.

In the second story the third layer forms the sill and lower part of a false door very richly ornamented, and on the fifth layer a pair of genii hold a coronal over the door of the sepulchre, a representation which seems to intimate Christian ideas. Above it a niche contains the busts of a man and his wife; but on the north side an elderly woman occupies a niche with her bust, probably in her character as proprietress of the single sepulchral niche of the tomb below. Above is an ornament with two bunches of grapes; and then follows the frieze, of the common Ionic order. The moulding is surmounted by a pyramidal roof about twelve feet high, which has lost its summit; otherwise the whole monument, with the exception of the sepulchral chamber, which has been broken up in search of treasures, is in the best state of preservation, notwithstanding its very slender proportions,—a circumstance very remarkable, after a lapse of at least more than sixteen centuries. No wonder that the natives of these regions now regard these tall sepulchral monuments, so strange at present in this land of desolation, as pagan idols, and call them “sanem;” for I myself, when alone in front of the monument in this wide, solitary valley, and under the shadow of the deep, precipitous side of a plateau adjoining the Khaddamíye on the east, felt impressed by it with a certain degree of awe and veneration.

My sketch being finished, I was still attracted to a greater distance up the valley by something which seemed at first to be another monument; but it was only a mark fixed by the Arabs, and served but to lengthen my march back, which was more slow, as the heat had set in. But I was well satisfied with my morning’s work; and my companions were greatly astonished when they saw the sketch. In the afternoon I made with Overweg another excursion in the opposite direction, when after an hour’s march we ascended a height and obtained a most interesting view over this singular tract, which seems to be the fragmentary border of a plateau torn and severed by ravines and precipices, so that only wall-like cliffs, rising like so many islands out of a sea of desolation, indicate its height. A high craggy ridge towards the west, with precipitous pinnacled walls, looked like a castle of the demons. Just in a ravine on the border of this wild scene of natural revolutions, my companion had the good luck to find some very interesting fossils, particularly that beautiful specimen which after him has been called Exogyra Overwegi; but our zeal had carried us too far, and it grew dark as we commenced our return, so that we had some difficulty in groping our way back to our encampment, where we arrived weary and fatigued, after having caused our people a good deal of apprehension.

We were roused from our refreshing sleep as early as two o’clock after midnight; but this was a mere sham of our camel-drivers, who feigned making up for the loss of yesterday, and after all we did not get off early. Our road carried us from wady to wady, which were generally separated from each other by a defile, occasionally presenting some difficulty of passage. We left a castle of Roman workmanship, as it seemed, in the distance to the left, and further on to the right a slight stone wall called Hakl el Urínsa, dating from the petty wars between the Arab tribes. We had already passed a few small ethel-bushes; but now we came to a most venerable-looking old tree called Athelet Si Mohammed fi Useát, spreading out its weather-beaten branches to a considerable distance: under this I sat down quietly for a while, waiting for our people, who were still behind. The caravan at length came up; and continuing our march, we soon passed on our right hand the chapel of a great Merábet of the Welád Bu-Séf, called Si Rashedán. The Welád Bu-Séf in general enjoy great authority with the other tribes for their sanctity of life and purity of manners; they allow no stranger to come near their villages, but pitch a tent for him at a distance, and treat him well.

The Welád Bu-Séf are remarkable for the excellent breed of their camels, which they treat almost as members of their families. It is curious that this tribe, intent upon right and justice, has waged war incessantly from ancient times with the Urfílla, the most warlike and violent of the tribes of these regions. It is difficult to make out whether they are related to the Welád Bu-Séf of the western part of the desert, who are likewise distinguished by their peculiar manners, but who it seems would scruple, on religious grounds, to call a man ʿAbd eʾ nebi (Slave of the Prophet), which is the name of the ancestor of the Eastern Bu-Séf.

Emerging from a defile, upon high ground, early in the afternoon, we obtained a view over Wady Zémzem, one of the most celebrated valleys of this part of North Africa. It runs in general from west to east-north-east, and is furnished with a great many wells, the most famous of which are el Abiadh, Sméla, Nákhala, Urídden, Halk el Wady, and, a little further down, Téder. In half an hour we encamped in the valley, full of herbage and with a goodly variety of trees. A caravan coming from the natron-lakes, and carrying their produce to Tripoli, was here encamped. I could not withstand the temptation of ascending, in the afternoon, a projecting eminence on the south side of the valley, which was broken and rent into a great variety of precipices and ravines; but its summit, being on a level with the plateau, did not afford me such a distant view as I had expected. The cliff was formed of strata of marl and gypsum, and contained many fossil shells.

As soon as we left the bottom of the valley, the path, which became rugged and stony, led up the southern cliffs, went round the east side of the conspicuous promontory, and then continued to wind along between the slopes of the higher level of the plateau. A hill, distinguished from among the surrounding heights by the peculiar shape of its cone, has here received the significant name Shúsh el ʿabíd—the Slaves’ Cap. A little further on, the roads separate, that to the left leading along the principal branch of the valley to the little town Gharíya, while the eastern goes to the well Taboníye. One might suppose that in a desolate country like this, and just at the entrance into a desert tract of great extent, the caravans would gladly avail themselves of those abodes of life which still exist: but this is not the case; they avoid them intentionally, as if a curse were attached to them, and those places, of course, fall every day more and more into decay. After a little consultation, the path by Taboníye was thought preferable, and we took it. The rough and stony character of the country ceased, and we gradually entered a fine valley, called Wady Tolágga, richly clothed with a variety of trees and bushes, such as the sidr, the ethel, the ghurdok, and several others. After meeting here with a caravan, we caught the gladdening and rare sight of an Arab encampment, belonging to the Urínsa, and obtained some milk. Without crossing any separation or defile, but always keeping along the same valley, we approached the well Taboníye. But near it the vegetation is less rich; the soil is intermixed with salt, and covered with a peculiar kind of low tree called by the present inhabitants of the country, frʿo,—a term which in pure Arabic would only mean “a branch.”

While our people were busily employed pitching the tents, I went at once to examine a monument which, for the last hour of our march, had stood as a landmark ahead of us. I reached it at the distance of a mile and a quarter from our encampment, over very stony and rugged ground. It was well worth the pains I had taken; for, though it is less magnificent than the monument in West Tagíje, its workmanship would excite the interest of travellers, even if it were situated in a fertile and well-inhabited country, and not in a desolate wilderness like this, where a splendid building is of course an object of far greater curiosity. It is a sepulchre about twenty-five feet high, and rising in three stories of less slender proportions than the monument above described, and is probably of a later period. The sketch on the preceding page will suffice to give an exact idea of it.

Near this is another sepulchre, occupying a more commanding situation, and therefore probably of older date, but it is almost entirely destroyed; and a third one in an equally ruinous state, but of larger proportions than either, is seen further south-east. These monuments serve to show that the dominion of the Romans in these regions was not of momentary duration, but continued for a length of time, as the different styles of the remains clearly proves. It may be presumed that no common soldier could pretend to the honour of such a tomb; and it is probable that these sepulchres were destined to contain the earthly remains of some of the consecutive governors or officers stationed at the neighbouring place, which I shall soon describe.

Like a solitary beacon of civilization, the monument rises over this sea-like level of desolation, which, stretching out to an immense distance south and west, appears not to have appalled the conquerors of the ancient world, who even here have left behind them, in “lithographed proof,” a reminiscence of a more elevated order of life than exists at present in these regions. The flat valley below, with its green strip of herbage, stretches far into the stony level; and beyond, north-eastwards, the desolate waste extends towards Gharíya.

I returned to the encampment, which meanwhile had sprung up on the open space round the well, and was anxious to quench my thirst with a draught of the precious liquid; but the water was rather salt, and disagreed with me so long as I continued to use it,—that is, for the next seven days. That we might make good use of our leisure hours, all three of us went the next day to Gharíya, or rather Gharíya el gharbíya—i.e., western, to distinguish it from the more distant eastern place of the same name.

Cheerfully as we set forward, we were heartily glad when, after a three hours’ march, we saw the northern tower of the place become visible over the monotonous stony plain, the wide and unbounded expanse of which seemed to indicate something above a single day’s excursion. After having also descried the half-ruined dwellings of the village, we were eagerly looking out for the palm-grove, when we suddenly reached the brink of a deep ravine, in which, on our left, the fresh green plantation started forth, while all around was naked and bare. We crossed the ravine, leaving the grove on our left, and ascended the opposite cliffs towards the ruined cluster of miserable cottages, when, having traversed the desolate streets, we encamped outside the Roman gate, the massive and regular architecture of which formed a remarkable contrast to the frail and half-ruined structures of the village. We were greatly astonished to find such a work here.

It has but little resemblance to the Roman castle or station at Bonjem, such as it is seen in Captain Lyon’s drawing; for while the latter represents a single gateway flanked by two quadrangular towers, the building at Gharíya consists of three archways, flanked by towers with receding walls. The two smaller gateways have been almost entirely filled with rubbish; the upper layer likewise is gone, and only those stones which form the arch itself are preserved, the centre stone above the principal arch, bearing the inscription “PRO. AFR. ILL.” (provincia Africæ illustris), encircled by a coronal, while that above the eastern side-gate is ornamented with a large sculpture, the lower part of which it is difficult to make out distinctly, except the trace of a chariot and a person in curious attire following it, while the upper part represents two eagles in a sitting posture, with half-extended wings, holding a coronal, and at each end a female genius, in a flying posture, stretching out a larger and a smaller coronal. Besides this, and a few Berber names, there is no inscription now on the building; but an inscription found in another place, which I shall soon mention, and which was probably originally placed over the small archway on the right, seems to leave no doubt that this fortification dates from the time of Marc. Aurel. Severus Antoninus, and if not built in the years between 232 and 235 after Christ, at least was then in existence.

As the ground-plan, which is here subjoined, evidently shows, this is not by itself a complete building, and could only afford quarters to a very limited number of soldiers acting as a guard: in fact it can only be the well-fortified entrance into the Roman station; but of the station itself I was unable to discover any traces, though a great quantity of stones from some building lie scattered about in the village. The only ancient building which I was able to discover, besides the gate, was a cistern at the north-west corner of the wall, near the slope into the wady, which is here very precipitous. It was probably 60 ft. long, for at 30 ft. there is an arch dividing it; but one half of it, except a space of about 8 ft., has been filled with rubbish: its breadth is 5 ft. 3½ in. Perhaps the whole fortification was never finished; the inner edge of the stones would seem to intimate that not even the gateway received its entire ornament.

While I was busy making a drawing of the ruins, Overweg, who, in order to measure the elevation of the place by boiling water, had directed his steps to a rising ground at some distance north of the village, which was crowned with a tower, sent to inform me that on the tower was a large Roman inscription, which he was unable to make out; and as soon as I had finished my sketch I went thither. It is a round Arab tower, only two large ancient stones having been made use of as jambs, while a large slab, covered with an inscription, is used as an impost, owing to which circumstance the inhabitants generally regard even the tower as a Christian or Roman building. The inscription, which was evidently taken from the fortified station, is 32⁷⁄₁₂ in. long, and 15¹⁰⁄₁₂ in. high, and consists of nine lines. It has been read and interpreted by Mr. Hogg in the following manner.

As for the tower, or nadhúr, it was evidently erected in former times in order to give timely notice when a band of freebooters—“el jaesh” (the army), as they are called here—was hovering around the solitary village; for this seems to have been the chief cause of its destruction, the Urfílla being said to have been always watching and lying in ambush round this lonely place, to attack and rob small parties coming from or going to it; they are said even to have once captured the whole place. The consequence is, that it has now scarcely thirty male inhabitants to bear arms, and is avoided by the caravans as pestilent, the water, they say, being very unwholesome. The small remnant of the inhabitants have a very pale and ghastly appearance, but I think this is owing rather to the bad quality of their food than to that of the water. In former times it is said to have been celebrated on account of a merábet of the name of Sidi Mʿadi.

As soon as I had sufficiently examined the ruins and the village, I hastened to the bottom of the ravine. The contrast between the ruined hovels of the village, perched on the naked rock, and the green, fresh plantation, fed by a copious supply of water, is very great. Thick, luxuriant, and shady clusters are here formed, principally around the basin filled by the spring, which rushes forth from beneath a rock, and gives life to the little oasis; its temperature I found, at half-past one o’clock P.M., 70½° Fahr., while that of the air was 70°. The number of the date-trees, though small, is nevertheless larger than in Mizda, and may be nearer to 350 than to 300. The water of the ravine after a heavy fall of rain joins the Wadi Zemzem, the principal valley of this whole district, which together with Wady Sófejín and Wady Beï, carries all the streams collected hereabouts to the sea.

According to our Zintáni, the path leading to Taboníye from the western village first lies over the hammáda, then crosses a ravine called Wady Khatab, leads again over the plateau, crosses another wady, and at length, after about ten miles, as it seems, reaches the ravine of Gharíya eʾ sherkíya, stretching from west to east, the grove, of about the same extent as in the other oasis, being formed at the north and west bases of the rocky height upon which the place stands. At the side of the village there is, he said, a large Roman castle, far larger than that in the western one, of about eight or ten feet elevation at present, but without an arched gateway of that kind, and without inscriptions. On the east side of the eminence are only a few palms, and on the south side none. The village is distinguished by a merábet called Bu-Sbaeha. Neither from the Zintáni nor from anybody else did I hear that the inhabitants of these two solitary ksúr are called by the peculiar name Warínga; I learnt it afterwards only from Mr. Richardson’s statement, and I have reason to think that the name was intended for Urínsa.

We returned by a more northern path, which at first led us through a rather difficult rocky passage, but afterwards joined our path of yesterday. Overweg and I had no time to lose in preparing for our journey over the hammáda, or plateau, while Mr. Richardson was obliged, by the conduct of the ill-provided and ill-disciplined blacks who accompanied him, to follow us by night. We therefore got up very early next morning, but lost a good deal of time by the quarrels among our camel-drivers, who were trying, most unjustly, to reserve all the heavy loads for the camels of the inexperienced Tarki lad ʿAli Karámra, till they excited his indignation, and a furious row ensued. This youth, though his behaviour was sometimes awkward and absurd, excited my interest in several respects. He belonged to a family of Tawárek, as they are called, settled in Wady el Gharbi, and was sent by his father to Tripoli with three camels, to try his chance of success, although members of that nation, with the exception of the Tinylkum, rarely visit Tripoli. He was slender and well-formed, of a glossy light-black complexion, and with a profile truly Egyptian; his manners were reserved, and totally different from those of his Fezzáni companions.

At length we were under way, and began gradually to ascend along the strip of green which followed the shelving of the plateau into the valley, leaving the Roman sepulchre at some distance to our right. The flat Wady Labaerek, which is joined by Wady Shák, was still adorned with gattúf and rétem. It was not till we had passed the little hill called Lebaerek, and made another slight ascent, that we reached the real level of the terrible Hammáda; the ascent, or shelving ground, from Taboníye to this point being called el Mudhár mtʿa el Hammáda, and the spot itself, where the real Hammáda begins, Bú-safár, a name arising from the obligation which every pilgrim coming from the north, who has not before traversed this dreaded district, lies under, to add a stone to the heaps accumulated by former travellers.

But, notwithstanding all the importance attached to the dreary character of this region, I found it far less naked and bare than I had imagined it to be. To the right of our path lay a small green hollow, of cheerful appearance, a branch of which is said, probably with some degree of exaggeration, to extend as far as Ghadámes; but the whole extent of the Hammáda is occasionally enlivened with small green patches of herbage, to the great relief of the camel. And this, too, is the reason why the traveller does not advance at a rate nearly so expeditious as he would expect. In the latter part of our preceding journey we generally had made almost as much as two and a half miles an hour; but we scarcely got over two on this level open ground. Of course, the wider the space the wider the dispersion of the straggling camels; and much time is lost by unsteady direction. At the verdant hollow called Garra mtʿa eʾ Nejm the eastern path, which is called Trík el mugítha (via auxiliaris), and passes by the village of Gharíya, joined our path.

At Wady Mʿamúra I first observed the little green bird generally called asfír, but sometimes mesísa, which lives entirely upon the caravans as they pass along, by picking off the vermin from the feet of the camels. In the afternoon we observed, to our great delight, in the green patch called el Wueshkeh, a cluster of stunted palm-trees. Hereabouts the camel-drivers killed a considerable number of the venomous lizard called bu-keshásh; and the Tarki in particular was resolute in not allowing any which he saw to escape alive. After a moderate march of little more than ten hours and a half, we encamped in a small hollow called, from a peculiar kind of green bush growing in it, el Jederíya. A strong cold wind, accompanied by rain, began to blow soon after we encamped. The tent, not being sufficiently secured, was blown down in the night; and we had some trouble in pitching it again.

Continuing our march, we passed, about ten o’clock in the morning, a poor solitary talha-tree bearing the appellation of el Duhéda. Further on we found truffles, which in the evening afforded us a delicious truffle-soup. Truffles are very common in many parts of the desert; and the greatest of Mohammedan travellers (Ebn Batúta) did not forget them in relating his journey from Sejelmása to Waláta, in the middle of the fourteenth century. The sky was very dark and hazy; and the moon had an extraordinary “dára,” or halo. We slept this night without a tent, and felt the cold very sensibly.

The march of the following day was a little enlivened by our meeting with two small caravans: the first, of five camels; the second, belonging to Ghadámsi people, and laden with ivory, of fifteen. With the latter was also a woman, sitting quite comfortably in her little cage. Shortly after half-past one o’clock in the afternoon, we had reached the highest elevation of the Hammáda, indicated by a heap of stones called, very significantly, Rejm el erhá, 1,568 feet above the level of the sea. We encamped soon after, when a very heavy gale began to blow from the north-north-west driving the swallows, which had followed our caravan, into the tent and the holes formed by the luggage; but the poor things found no protection, for our tent, which was light and high-topped, was blown down again during the night, while a heavy rain accompanied the storm, and we as well as our little guests were left awhile without shelter, in a very uncomfortable situation.

We started rather late the following morning, entering now upon the very dreariest part of the Hammáda, called el Hómra. So far there had been only one track over this stony plateau; but in the afternoon a path, called Msér ben Wáfi, branched off towards the left. This path, which leads to the eastern parts of Wady Sháti, formed formerly the common road to Fezzán, the road by way of el Hasi being considered as too insecure, on account of the robberies of the Urfílla. Hence the latter is still called the new road, “Trík el jedíd.” Richardson, who had had enough of the inconveniences of travelling by night, easily got in advance of us this morning, after our short march of yesterday, and had advanced a good way by daytime. We were therefore anxious to come up with him; and on our way we encountered a heavy shower of rain before we pitched our tent. The whole caravan being once more united, the increased variety of our own party relieved a good deal of the feeling of monotony arising from the desolate character of the country through which we travelled. After marching about seven miles, we arrived at the greenest and largest hollow of the Hammáda, called Wady el Alga, which we ought to have reached yesterday, in order to be able to get this day as near the well as possible.

As it was, when we encamped in the afternoon, we had still a long day’s march before us, and therefore the next day, from general impulse, in order to make sure of our arrival at the well, we started at an early hour, keeping the caravan together by repeated shouting. After a march of about twelve miles, we reached the first passage leading down from the Hammáda and called Tníe Twennín; but it was too steep and precipitous for our rather heavily laden caravan, and we had to continue till we reached the Tníe el ʿArdha, a little after eleven o’clock, when we began to descend from the plateau along a rough winding pass. The sandstone of which it is formed presented to us a surface so completely blackened, not only in the unbroken walls of the ravine, but also in the immense blocks which had been detached from the cliffs, and were lying about in great confusion, that at first sight anybody would have taken it for basalt; but when the stones were broken, their real nature became apparent. Over this broad layer of sandstone, which in some places covered a bed of clay mixed with gypsum, there was a layer of marl, and over this, forming the upper crust, limestone and flints.

After a winding course for an hour, the narrow ravine, shut in by steep, gloomy-looking cliffs, began to widen, and our direction varied less; but still the whole district retained a gloomy aspect, and the bottom of the valley was strewn with masses of black sandstone, while the country ahead of us lay concealed in a hazy atmosphere, which did not admit of an extensive view. Eager to reach the well, the caravan being scattered over a great extent of ground, we three travellers, with one of the shoushes, pushed on in advance, the south wind driving the sand, which lay in narrow strips along the pebbly ground, into our faces. We cherished the hope of finding a cool little grove, or at least some shade, where we might recline at ease after our fatiguing march; but, to our great disappointment, the sand became deeper, and nothing was to be seen but small stunted palm-bushes. But even these ceased near the well, which was dug in the midst of the sandy waste, and had once been protected by an oval-shaped building, of which nothing but crumbling ruins remained.

It was a cheerless encampment after so fatiguing a march; but there was at least no more fear of scarcity of water, for the well had an abundant supply. No name could be more appropriate to this place than el Hasi (the well). There is no need of any discriminating surname; it is “the Well”—the well where the traveller who has successfully crossed the Hammáda may be sure to quench his own thirst and that of his animals. But it is not a cheerful resting-place, though it is the great watering-place on this desert road, as he has to cross the fearful “burning plain” of the Hammáda before he reaches the spot. There are several wells hereabouts, which might easily supply with water the largest caravan in an hour’s time; for the water is always bubbling up, and keeps the same level.

The well at the side of which we had encamped is rather narrow and deep, and therefore inconvenient for a large party; but it is, though slightly, protected by the ruins around against the wind, which is often very troublesome, and was particularly so on the evening of our arrival. Formerly there was here a sort of fortified khan, such as is very rarely seen in these parts, built by the tribes of the Notmán and Swaíd, in order to protect their caravans against the pillaging parties of the Urfílla, originally a Berber tribe. This building consisted of simple chambers, twenty, as it seems, in number, lying round an oval court which has entrances from north and south. It is thirty paces long by sixteen wide, the centre being occupied by the well, which, as it is dug in the sandy soil, bears the general name Hasi. It has a depth of five fathoms; and its temperature was found to be 71⅗° Fahr. The quality of the water, in comparison with that of Taboníye, was very good. The elevation of this place was found by Overweg to be 696 feet; so that we had descended from the highest point of the Hammáda 742 feet.

As it was, we felt heartily glad when our steady and heavy Tripolitan tent being at length pitched, we were able to stretch ourselves without being covered with sand. All the people were greatly fatigued, and required repose more than anything else. Out of regard to the men as well as to the camels, we were obliged to stay here the following day, though the place was comfortless in the extreme, and did not offer the smallest bit of shade. Scarcely any of our places of encampment on the whole journey seemed to me so bad and cheerless as this. If I had had an animal to mount, I would have gone on to a cluster of three or four date-trees, which are said to be at the distance of about three miles west from the well, and belong to the people of Zintán, to enjoy a little shade; but our camels were too much distressed.