From the summit one gains a fine view of the surrounding country,—a great flat plain broken by ridges of dark volcanic rock, like that on which we were standing, until in the far east a tall range of mountains appeared on the horizon. Below us to the south lay Dhamar, almost as yellow as the plain itself, for there is but little green in its neighbourhood, although it is said that in the rainy season the whole country entirely changes its aspect. To the east of Hirran, and immediately below it, lie the remains of an old city, the loose stone walls of the houses still standing to the height of a few feet above the ground. Altogether the place must have been one of great importance in early times, and I regretted much that I was unable in my hasty visit to find any inscriptions. However, I was able to take the notes given above before a mounted Turkish soldier appeared on the scene, sent by the Kaimakam to watch my movements, and who begged me politely to return. Fearing that any suspicion on the part of the Governor toward myself might prevent my continuing my journey to Sanaa, I stated my readiness to comply with his request, and bidding adieu to the old goatherd, once more mounted my mule and returned to the town. I was able to learn but little about Hirran in Dhamar, or in fact anywhere, except that it was once the centre of a great trade, a sort of caravanserai for the goods of Sanaa and the north, the kingdom of Saba or Sheba, and Aden. This is the only early tradition the natives seem to have concerning its former wealth and its being a centre of trade in very early times, and this tradition has led me to a conjecture—it is nothing more—that Hirran may be the site of the Haran of the Old Testament. The places mentioned in the same verse are, I believe, all in Southern Arabia, and have all been recognised, Haran alone remaining undiscovered. It is more than possible, judging from the similarity of names and the report of its former importance in trade, that they may be one and the same place.[40] During the afternoon I paid a farewell visit to the Kaimakam, which was returned an hour later, when he promised me a couple of soldiers to see me safely to Sanaa. The following morning we left Dhamar. There was, of course, a great leave-taking of Saïd, and just as they had done on our arrival, a long string of relations, illustrating all the seven ages of man, with many of the intermediary gaps filled in, streamed out of the house to bid him farewell. Good simple people they were, though the younger members of the family, when away from their parents’ eyes, were importunate in their demands for _bakshish_. The road led us to the west of Hirran, close to the large tanks I mentioned as having seen on my ride to that place, and then on over the dreary plain. Leaving the large-walled village of Jaffa to our left for a time, we saw but little signs of life.