We had left behind us now the high elevations and watered valleys, and nothing but plain and desert lay between us and Hodaidah, some eighty miles distant, over which, although the month was February, travelling by day is torment. So an hour or two was all the time we spent in the _café_ at Hojaila, and as soon as the sunset glow was dying away we loaded our little mules again and set off. From sunset until near dawn we plodded on over the plain, the broken rocky hills showing up on either side in the clear moonlight, which was sufficiently bright to allow us to see that a considerable portion of the country we were passing through was under cultivation. How balmy and warm the night was! and had it not been that one was tired and weary with the long ride from Menakha, it would have proved most enjoyable. As it was, one could not help admiring the loveliness of the still moonlight, and the silence, broken only by the thud of our mules’ feet upon the sand and the humming of the insects in the air. Every now and then we would pass a caravan of camels, slow-gaited and patient, which seemed to grow out of the moonlight like spectres, only to vanish again into the darkness. As dawn grew near we reached Bohay, situated to the north of Jibel Damir. It is a poor little place; but the rest in a mat _café_ was inexpressibly refreshing, for out of the last twenty-four hours we had been nearly twenty on the road. Stretching ourselves upon the string couches, which do not seem to be in use anywhere out of the Teháma and the southern plains, we were soon wrapped in sleep. But at sunrise my guards woke me, and we made a start again. But our march was happily to prove only a short one, and three hours later we drew in sight of Bajil, where at length I was promised a well-earned rest. Bajil is quite a little town, its population numbering probably some 3000 souls. Except for a large Turkish fort, built for the most part of squared stones, and a few houses of the same material, it consists of mud-and-thatch and mat houses, enclosed by high hedges of dry mimosa and acacia thorns in the form of zarebas. The place is prettily situated, lying at the foot of Jibel Obaki, the surrounding plain being cultivated with millet of two varieties, the _dokhn_ and the _durra_; while a good water-supply allows of the growth of a considerable number of trees, principally acacias, which render the place a veritable oasis. The _café_ here, except for those of the towns and that at Waalan, was the best we had come across; for although it only consisted of a series of mat-huts built round a large yard, everything was so clean and so tidy that it was a real pleasure to rest in the shade, all the more so as by this time the rays of the sun had become fierce in their heat.