The night was extremely dark, for the stars were partially hidden by haze. On the right, the sea was phosphorescent and appeared to be illuminated by numerous lamps burning beneath the water. The fever was shaking me again, and I was glad when we settled down at 8.30 at a short distance from the road among the rimṯ bushes near the šeʻîb of Sâhjet al-Maʻʻâzi. Fearing that some robber from al-ʻAḳaba might creep up behind us or that some traveler along the trade route might hear our voices and steal something from us, we kept guard over our encampment all night.
On Thursday, June 8, 1910, we started off at 4.34 A. M. (temperature: 27.8° C). At 4.40 we rode through the Sâhjet ad-Dirri and passed along the marl slope of ad-Debbe. The sejâl trees which grow there are low and stunted, and their trunks and tops bend eastward, a sure sign of prevailing westerly winds. At 5.08 we rode round two piles of stones, one covering the grave of a Bedouin, the other marking the place where his blood had been shed. He had been riding to Egypt with his nephew. At this place the nephew shot him and rode on to Egypt with his uncle’s horse and all his property. But the man who had been shot roused himself from his swoon long enough to tell of the villainous deed to a traveler, who, by the ordinance of Allâh, was passing that way; after which he died. The traveler buried the man and announced to his son that he should avenge his father.
By the sea we noticed numerous piles of shellfish. In the autumn the Arabs camping by the seashore collect these shellfish, warm them over a fire, and when they are half-open eat the contents. At 5.20 we rode through the deep channel of al-Ktejf, hollowed out in the marl of ad-Debbe. On the left this šeʻîb joins the šeʻîb of Ammu Ḥsi. On the shore itself, by the šeʻîb of al-Ktejf, there stood three high palm trees. About one hundred and fifty paces to the south rises a salt spring, to the east of which extends a large burial place.
At 5.34 we caught sight of the oasis of Ḥaḳl. Steep slopes thrust the road towards the sea, and in places broken rocks are piled up across it. The crossing below Keṯîb al-Mbassi is dangerous. A steep slope about forty meters high, completely covered with fine sand, rises sheer from the sea, and in this the road has been artificially cut. But the soft marl does not adequately resist the attacks of the waves; it
