Sheikh Hassan informed me that the bulk of the work had been done under his personal supervision, by a gang of from seventy to eighty men employed throughout the hot season; he had found from experience that the natives worked better in summer than in winter. The main tunnel was entirely cleared of clay and sand, the silted material being lifted out through the numerous man-holes or vertical shafts which connect the aqueduct with the surface above. A great deal of rough masonry work had also to be undertaken where the sandstone roof or walls had fallen in. The place was put in thoroughly good order, and all the shafts again closed, with the exception of two or three left open to permit of the descent of the men sent down periodically to examine the channel and keep it free from silted material. When I first visited the place in January, 1905, I found the discharge from the mouth of the aqueduct was between 30 and 35 gallons per minute. A dozen acres or so of land had been reclaimed, and were tended by seven or eight men, who informed me that the crops raised there were equal to those in any part of the oasis. This I can quite believe, as, in spite of the fact that several dune-belts exist in the neighbourhood, the place is comparatively sheltered from the northerly winds by the great escarpment to the north. The little settlement of Um el Dabâdib, with its adjoining fertile fields and fruit-garden, threaded by the life-giving stream emerging from the foot-hills of the stupendous cliffs to the north, and backed by the grim fort of bygone ages to the south, has in the midst of this desert an indescribable charm. [Illustration: RUINS AT UM EL DABADIB.] Sala Abdulla, old Sheikh Hassan’s head-man here, proved to be a most delightful fellow, and far superior to the average native in general intelligence. He spun the most fantastic yarns about the desert tableland to the north, and—a peculiarity I appreciated most of all—without expecting me to believe him. According to Sala, traces exist of a formerly much-frequented road, said to lead to a place called Ain Hamûr, lying somewhere to the north-west of Ain Amûr. But although he himself had on one occasion set out and travelled for many hours beyond the summit of the cliffs, he had been forced to return without finding the place, the exact position of which is at the present day unknown. This out-of-the-way corner of the desert is, according to my informant, so undisturbed by man that the gazelle there live for untold periods, and only eventually succumb to old age and the increasing weight of their horns, which grow to such a size that the poor beasts are unable to move about in search of food!