ABSTRACT
This, however, is to be our last day in cultivated ground, and we must have patience. To-morrow we shall be in the desert. Every here and there, we passed the sites of old villages, or perhaps towns;
but their names are forgotten. Just at sunset, we caught sight of the salt lake on which Jabiil stands, and presently we descended from the upper country into a plain, just now turned into a swamp by the heavy rains we have been having. Through this wre floundered for an hour or two, Creamy coming even once or twice to his knees, a not very pleasant accident for his rider, as the water was almost freezing; and at one moment there seemed a prospect of our having to spend the night out of doors. At last, however, we heard dogs barking, and then saw a light, which we knew must be a village, though it was not Jabiil; and to this we rode through water up to our horses' knees. It is rather a disagreeable thing to have to ride into an Arab village in the dark, as it is sure to be surrounded by a honeycomb of wells, and holes for storing corn; and, more than once, I found myself on the brink of one of these; but horses seem to see in the dark; and there is an Arabic proverb to this effect; so I let my beast grope its own way with a loose rein. The village was not Jabiil; but its inhabitants directed us on our way, and, half an hour later, we were much relieved at hearing a horse gallopping towards us. It was a scout sent out by our anxious host to show us the way to his house. A wretched place it is, as all the fixed habitations of Arabs are, comfortless as a tent, without doors, or windows, or floor and, being immovable, inconceivably dirty, ~No wonder the Bedouins refuse to change wandering
homes for such as these. "We were shown into a little room about eight feet square, with a bit of dirty sacking hung up before the door, to keep out the wind, and a bit of dirty carpet laid down on the dirtier floor, and a couple of dirty cushions in a corner. In this our baggage was piled, all muddy and squalid and comfortless. A wretched night, but we have agreed it shall be our last under a roof, be the cold what it may.
