Next morning we woke early. Mules, donkeys, camels, horses, and mares
were screaming and kicking, and the men running about cursing and
swearing. In such a Babel it was impossible to feel drowsy. I felt very
faint as we set out from Jayrud. The salt marshes in the distance were
white and glistening, and the heat spread over them in a white mist which
looked like a mirage bearing fantastic ships. We breakfasted at the next
village, Atneh, in a harim, the women having all gone out. It was the
house of a bride, and she had hung all her new garments round the walls,
as we display our wedding presents _pour encourager les autres_. When
the women came back, the men retired from the harim. Atneh was the last
settlement, the last water, the last human abode between Jayrud and
Karyatyn--a long distance. After this we had a lengthy desert ride in
wind and rain, sleet and hail, and the ground was full of holes; but it
was a splendid ride all the same. The Arabs, in their gaudy jackets,
white trousers, and gold turbans, galloped about furiously, brandishing
and throwing their lances, and playing the usual tricks of horsemanship
--_jerid_. We met a terrible storm of thunder and lightning, and
between-whiles the fiery sun sent down his beams upon a parched plain.
The desert ground was alternately flint, limestone, and smooth gravel;
not a tree or shrub, not a human being or animal, was to be seen. The
colours were yellow sand and blue sky, blue sky and yellow sand, yellow
and blue for ever.

We arrived at dusk at the spot where we had told our advance guard to
pitch the tents. We found everything ready, and after our horses were
cared for we dined. That night for the first time we slept in our
clothes, with revolvers and guns by our sides. The men took turns to
keep watch, so that we might not be surprised by a Ghazu, a tribe
of six or seven hundred Bedawin, who go out for marauding purposes. The
Ghazis charge furiously, with their lances couched. If you have the