When the Hebrew Scriptures reached Taiz I was again disappointed, for the Governor would not permit the boxes to be opened, but they were to be sent sealed and under guard to Sana. I afterward learned that the “guard” was for me as well as the books, and that the soldier carried a letter with this accusation written: “This is a converted Jew, who is corrupting the religion of Islam, and sells books to Moslems and Jews.” I had no alternative but to proceed to Sana; taking a Damar Arab as servant, having dismissed the Aden camels. I left Taiz on a mule July 26th, and arrived at Seyanee the same day. The following night we reached Ibb. Here I was forced to lodge outside of the town, as the guard had instructions not to let me “see things.” I endured this impatiently, until I learned that our servant had been imprisoned on our arrival because he told me the names of the villages on the route! I then appealed to the Mayor, and on virtue of my passports demanded the right of going about the town and the release of my servant. After some delay, both requests were granted. The incident is one of many to show the suspicion with which a stranger is regarded by the authorities in Yemen. On Saturday the soldier and I hastened on to reach the large town of Yerim before Sunday, and rest there, waiting for the baggage camel. It was a long ride of twelve hours, but through a delightful country everywhere fertile and terraced with coffee plantations and groves of kaat. Yerim, with perhaps 300 houses, lies in a hollow of the Sumara range of mountains. It has a fortress and some houses of imposing appearance, but the general aspect of the town is miserable. A neighboring marsh breeds malaria, and the place is proverbially unhealthy in this otherwise salubrious region. Niebuhr’s botanist, Forskal, died here on their journey in 1763. The road from Ibb to Yerim has perhaps the finest scenery of any part of Yemen; never have I seen more picturesque mountains and valleys, green with verdure and bright with blossoms. Scabiosa, bluebells, forget-me-nots, golden-rod, four-o’clocks and large oleander-trees— “All earth was full of heaven And every bush afire with God.” The cacti-plants were in full bloom, and measured twenty feet against the mountain passes. Two thousand feet below one could hear the sound of the water rushing along the wady-bed or disappearing under the bridges that span the valleys. While high above, the clouds were half concealing the summit of the “Gazelle Neck” (Unk el-Gazel). Sunday, July 29th, was a cold day at Yerim; early in the morning the temperature went down to 52°, and at night two blankets were needed. Not until nine o’clock was it warm enough for the Yerim merchants to open their shops.