As our road proceeded it increased in magnificence, entering the heart of the mountains, on the summit of one of which the town of Menakha is perched. This river lies at an elevation of somewhat over five thousand feet above the sea. Quite suddenly the valley comes to an end, and we commenced one of those steep ascents to which we were almost becoming accustomed now. The path is little but a boulder-strewn track in the mountain-side, and one could not help wondering how our little mules would ever accomplish the climb. Dismounting at the foot, Abdurrahman, Saïd, and I raced ahead, scrambling and tumbling over the rocks, and nearly frightening the wits out of a descending caravan, who probably had never seen the like of us before; for although Saïd was in the Yemen costume, Abdurrahman wore the there unknown dress of the mountaineers of Morocco, while I was in riding-breeches, and flannel shirt, and a red fez cap. Great proud-looking fellows the caravan-men were, and they watched us with a startled stare, evidently putting us down as lunatics. However, our laughter at their surprise so amused them that they became quite friendly, and would not let me go on till I had shaken each singly by the hand, which I was only too pleased to do. Up and up we toiled, leaving the mules to follow with the muleteers. Every here and there are springs which the natives have aided by building tanks, and now and again we would stop to drink and bathe our faces and hands. Almost suddenly we reached the summit, after a climb of over two thousand five hundred feet up the execrable zigzag path, and the little town of Menakha lay before me. I determined to wait here for my soldier-guards, whom we had left a long way behind us; so we threw ourselves down, panting and hot, upon a ledge of rock, and gazed at the scene before us. Wonderful, stupendous it was! Around us on all sides the bare fantastic peaks and perpendicular precipices, on the edge of one of which we were perched, and up the face of which we could see the path we had climbed winding in and out. Below us, far, far below, like little ants, we could see our mules and men toiling up. A thread of river, the Wadi Zaum, was distinguishable down the valley, the few green thorny trees which grew along its banks being, with the exception of some stunted brushwood and a few aloes and creepers, the sole vegetation in view. A very entrance to the “Inferno,” gloomy and dark. The rays of the setting sun lit up in contrast to all this the roseate peaks of the mountains, many of which, thousands of feet above us, were crowned with strange villages and towers. At length our mules caught us up, and mounting again for the few yards that yet remained between us and Menakha, we made our entry into the town, drawing up at the principal Government building, where the Kaimakam resided.