We sighted the shats when about a half-day out from El Hamma, whence our way had led across a most dismal and depressing land, sans inhabitants and sans vegetation. The stony plain which we have been traversing since daybreak now broke away in a long, irregular slant, sloping down to the banks of what appeared to be a broad river of ice. The illusion was perfect. Even in the Syrian Desert, famous for its mirages, I have never seen anything so deceiving. Sweeping in either direction in spacious curves to the horizon, its level surface twinkling and flashing in the sunlight until one is blinded by the glare, this amazing phenomenon looks for all the world like a mighty frozen river winding out of the nowhere into the unknown. The brooding silence, the utter solitude, the ancient myths associated with it, the feeling of eeriness and oppression—all these served to recall that other mystery-enshrouded region described by Matthew Arnold: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran From caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. As we rolled cautiously out upon the surface of the shats the illusion of an ice-field gradually disappeared, and I would have taken an oath that we were approaching a broad sheet of water. Even Harvey was deceived and apprehensive, speculating uneasily on its probable depth and on whether we should be able to get through. Yet, like the lake-mirages of Arabia, the water seemed always to keep just ahead of us, receding as we advanced, tantalizingly beckoning us on. That others had preceded us across the shats was evidenced by the numerous imprints of camels’ feet in the yielding soil, and by the stakes with which the _méharistes_ of the Camel Corps had marked the route. These we followed meticulously, as, in the Alps, one follows the red-painted stones which show the way across a glacier. Nor was it reassuring to note here and there the tracks of animals which had strayed from the beaten path; as there were no return tracks, it was to be assumed that they had been engulfed in the hungry quicksands. To venture upon the shats with so heavy a car as ours involved, as I knew full well, a certain measure of risk, and I experienced a distinct feeling of relief when we gained the other side.