Leaving the track, we struck into the thick brushwood in order to avoid as much as possible approaching the villages. One, however, we were obliged, by nature of the country, to pass much nearer than was pleasant. This was Sobeh, the principal stronghold of the Owd tribe. How silently we crept on! But sure-footed as were our little mules, they could not help now and again making a false step, and rattling the stones with which our path was strewn. When this happened we would all stand still for a second, holding our breath to listen. Once a dog barked, others took it up, and presently it seemed as though a hundred yelping curs, intent on our discovery, were doing their utmost to give warning of our proximity. Happily they did not leave the village, but, after the custom of Arab dogs, barked from the shelter of their masters’ homes. Nevertheless, the noise was loud enough to wake a man, who shouted to another, and a conversation took place. Seizing me by the wrist, my men dragged me into a thick cluster of bamboos, whence we could see a light, evidently a lantern, flickering in the village only a few hundred yards away. It was an anxious moment; but at length the dogs ceased their barking, and the light disappeared. Waiting to make sure that all was quiet, we stole on again, thankful at our narrow escape. Then the moon rose, but the cold was too intense, and I was too tired to admire the lovely mist-swathed valley and the broken mountain-peaks. Once or twice more we awoke the dogs, and once again, too, a man shouted to know who was passing; but we did not hide this time, as dawn was approaching, and my men whispered to me that even as it was it would be a mere chance if the sun did not rise to find us still in the enemy’s country. At length it came, cold steely-grey dawn; then the sky flushed crimson and pink, and we put on our final spurt, driving the mules before us with sharp cuts from bits of rope, and hurrying as fast as our feet would carry us. The sun was nearly up when one of the men pointed out to me, a long way ahead, a solitary tower standing on the edge of a precipice overlooking the river. “Once there,” he whispered, “we are safe; they are friends of ours.” At length we almost ran. The sun would be up in a quarter of an hour, and the cold grey mist which at present helped to conceal us would rise. A little before the great gold orb appeared over the mountains to the east, we forded the icy-cold river and scrambled up to our looked-for goal, Beit en-Nedish.