The distance proved far greater than he had imagined; indeed, there was a deep valley between him and the side of the mountain. Still, eager to reach its summit, he pushed on. The sun began to put forth its power; there was not the slightest shade around. At length he reached the height at which he was aiming, but, on looking round, he in vain sought for any traces of the caravan. Having but a small supply of water in his water-skin, he could only venture to sip a few drops, while he could with difficulty eat his dry biscuit and dates. Fearing that the caravan might push on believing him to be in advance, he immediately descended the mountain, in order to follow its course. At noon he swallowed the remainder of his water, but, taken on an empty stomach, it did not restore his strength. Believing that his party were to encamp at no great distance from the mountain, he strained his sight in hopes of seeing his friends; but no living being was visible. Having walked some distance, he ascended a mound crowned with an ethel-bush, where he fired his pistols; but a strong east wind blowing against him, he in vain waited for an answer. Crossing some sand-hills, he again fired, and, at last convinced that there could be nobody in that direction, he supposed that his party were still behind him, and unluckily kept more to the east. At last some small huts appeared in the distance. He hastened towards them, but they were empty, nor was a drop of water to be obtained. His strength being exhausted, he sat down on the bare plain, hoping that the caravan would come up. For a moment he thought he saw a string of camels passing in the distance, but it was a delusion.