We engaged one of these mat-houses for our private use, and unloading our mules, settled in for the day. What rendered our stay at Bajil more refreshing than it otherwise would have proved was the presence of an excellent _masseur_, under whose skilful hands one’s limbs lost all their weariness. As soon as the cool of the afternoon allowed, I sauntered out for a stroll through the little town. There was but little to see, it is true; but a Yemen village always presents sights which, if not exactly pretty, are generally of interest. A wedding-party was in full swing, guns were being fired off, tomtoms rendered the air hideous with their sound, and shrill pipes added to the confusion. The crowd of women who filled the open spaces between the zarebas, that answered for streets, were attired in holiday garments, and a gay throng they were; for, in spite of their dull-blue clothing, they had succeeded in tying themselves up with handkerchiefs and scarves of all colours, until they resembled rainbows. Here, as elsewhere, it seems to be the lot of womankind to do the hard work, and I stood for a time to watch them filling their pitchers from the wells. The manner in which the water is drawn is the following. A framework of wood is built over the mouth of the well, a solid beam passing from side to side; over this cross-beam runs the rope, to the end of which is fastened a bucket. Owing to the great depth to which the wells have to be sunk, these ropes are necessarily of enormous length, and the only means by which the weight can be supported is by a couple of the women harnessing themselves to the end and running at a gentle trot until the bucket has reached the surface, where it is emptied by a third. One well, the length of the track passed over to draw the bucket to the surface I measured, was only a few feet under two hundred in depth. The labour is a severe one, but the women seem to take it as a matter of course. In southern Morocco, where much the same system is in use, camels or donkeys are harnessed in their place. The only building of any size or importance in Bajil is the Turkish fort. It is a great square place, with circular towers jutting out here and there, and is built almost entirely of cut stone and bricks. Though useless against artillery, it would prove impregnable to Arab hordes, armed only with spears and matchlock-guns. A few ill-dressed Turks were lying about under the shade of some acacia-trees, and half-a-dozen field-guns, none too well kept, stood near the door; but the place offered no other signs of things military, and wore the weary appearance of orientalism.