August 27th.

It may easily be imagined that the whole scene by which we are here
surrounded has over it an air of profound and deathlike stillness.
The sea, where we behold nothing but water around us, presents more
of life to divert the mind. The very rushing and splash of the
wheels, the bounding waves, the bustle of bending or reefing sails,
and the crowding of people on the steamer, brings varied pictures to
temper the monotony around. Even the ride through the stony deserts
which I had traversed in Syria has not so much sameness, for there
we at least hear the tramp of the horse and the sound of many a
rolling stone; the traveller's attention is, besides, kept
continually on the stretch in guiding each step that his horse
takes, to avoid the risk of a fall. But all this is wanting in a
journey through a sandy desert. No bird hovers in the air, not a
butterfly is here to gladden the eye, not even an insect or a worm
crawls on the ground; not a living creature is, in fact, to be seen,
but the little vultures preying on the carcasses of fallen camels.
Even the tread of the heavy-footed camel is muffled by the deep
sand, and nothing is ever heard but the moaning of these poor
animals when their driver forces them to lie down to take off their
burden; most probably the exertion of stooping hurts them. The
driver beats the camel on the knee with a stick, and pulls its head
towards him by a rope fastened to it like a halter. During this
operation the rider must hold very fast in order not to fall off,
for suddenly the creature drops on its fore-knees, then on its hind
legs, and at length sits completely down on the ground. When you
mount the animal again, it becomes necessary to keep a vigilant eye
upon him, for as soon as he feels your foot on his neck he wishes to