Professing these strange tenets, there is this sect on the highroad from Hodaidah to Sanaa. As to their observances, the only man of their belief I met with would say but little, while the Moslems, although uninfluenced by the fanaticism one would expect to find, are careless. They have, I was told, the old Judaic observance of the scapegoat, and a particular night in the year in which they shut themselves into their houses, and are said to practise incest. This, however, may be possibly the Moslem idea of what really takes place. Were this to be absolutely depended upon, the fact might point to a Karmathian origin, for Ibn Fadl allowed the drinking of wine and this practice; but then it is scarcely likely that a Karmathian superstition should survive in a belief which is in direct contravention to Islam. It is known that in certain Phœnician rites incest was allowed, and the practice of a certain nightly annual feast in which the houses are illuminated might point to the worship of Adonis, certain remains of which, I am informed, are found amongst the mountaineers of the Himalayas. My information on this sect of the Makarama continues that they are at times visited by natives of India, who prize the charms that they are in the habit of writing; and most probably their origin may be found in that country, for Hodaidah has always been largely frequented by Indian traders. [Illustration: TURKISH CAMP OF HOJAILA.] Hojaila is but a small place, more a collection of huts than a town, as it is elsewhere described, though at the time I passed through it was augmented by a large Turkish camp, pitched near the _jimerouk_, or custom-house. There seems, with the exception of this building, a large, low, square place, to be no other of importance, though the Sheikh resides in a house two storeys in height, painted red and white in bands, which stands a curious landmark on the edge of a steep incline leading down to the river-bed. A few trees are scattered about the place, and under these were lolling Turkish soldiers, while the tents, and sentries passing and repassing, gave quite a martial appearance to the otherwise dreary scene; for, with the exception of these trees and the oleanders in the river-bed, the country was dull and sun-dried. Only a short rest was allowed me here, although we had been travelling, almost without interruption, since the early morning. However, as I was entirely in the hands of the Turkish guards who had been sent to see me to Hodaidah, any attempt at expostulation was out of the question. Another advantage, too, was to be gained by pushing on—namely, the moonlight night.