At nine o’clock, the sun being very hot, we unloaded under the shade of some big umbrageous trees, and settled in for the heat of the day. At our feet ran the river, dancing and rippling over its pebbly bed, for all the world like some Highland trout-stream, except for the fact that above and around it twined masses of flowering creepers and strange aloes, while a palm-tree here and there raised its feathery head above the dense undergrowth. Away on the opposite side of the river, about half a mile distant, and perched on the summit of a high rock, loomed the frontier fort of the Amir of Dhala, a square tower surrounded by some lower buildings. The place looked a regular acropolis, and seemed impregnable. On a gorgeous Sheikh arriving, I presented the last of the letters which I had brought from Aden, for the Dhala territory was the farthest in touch with the British authorities, and beyond lay Turkish Yemen. Evidently he considered the epistle satisfactory, although he was unable to read it, and he spent the day with us there. A right good fellow he was; but his reports of the turbulent state of the tribes beyond, and of the murder and plunder with which the mountaineers were daily amusing themselves, were anything but reassuring. He informed me that the name of our halting-place was Mjisbeyeh, of which I found the altitude to be two thousand five hundred feet above the sea-level. Off again in the afternoon, passing the picturesque village of Thoba, above which to the left we caught another glimpse of Jibel Dhu-biyat, with its white-domed tomb. The fact that we had now entered the land of fixed abodes became every hour more apparent. At places were signs of skilful irrigation, while ever and anon villages of stone houses piled on to the summits of rocks peeped from amongst the green fields and the mimosa-trees. One of these, by name Aredoah, was particularly picturesque, although the surrounding country was more barren than it had been. The scenery, too, became very fine. The black volcanic rocky hills had given place to mountains of limestone, which towered above the surrounding country. Principal amongst these were Jibál Ahurram and Ashari. At one spot a charming scene met our eyes. Under the shade of a great creeper-clad rock sat an old schoolmaster, book and rod in hand, while at his feet squatted a number of small boys, into whose heads he was apparently beating verses from the Koran. A regular stampede occurred at our approach, and the young _tholba_[37] rushed alongside our animals clamouring for alms. I got one or two to show me the books from which they were studying, and found them to be excellently printed copies of the Koran from Beyrout.