There is no sound to attract the ear, save the
measured tread of the caravan, the occasional "_Isa! Isa!_" of the
drivers, the hasty wrench with which our camels snatch a mouthful of
some ligneous plant that clings to the stony soil, the creaking of the
baggage, or the whistling of the wind that comes moaning over the
desert. These are truly moments in a man's life to remember; and I shall
ever look back to that solemn night-march over the desert, which my pen
fails to describe, with sentiments of pleasurable awe.
This night we moved at comparatively a rapid pace--nearly three miles an
hour; for there was scarcely any temptation to the camels to linger for
browsing purposes, and the drivers seemed desperately anxious to get
over as much ground as possible at once. At first all went well enough;
and now and then even, the blacks, who were on foot, braved the Hamadah
with a lively ditty--celebrating some Lucy Long of Central Africa. But
by degrees these merry sounds ceased to be heard; and the hastily-moving
crowd of the caravan insensibly stretched out into a longer line. The
poor women were beginning to knock up, and several fell at times from
mere exhaustion. We proceeded, however, without stopping, for eleven
hours, and after a long, dreary night indeed, halted at five in the
morning, having reached the encampment of our German friends.
The dawn soon lighted up the waste, and enabled us to see that it was a
level plain of hard red earth, scattered over with pebbles and loose
pieces of limestone mixed with flint.
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