The stars shone down with marvellous brilliancy on the desolate tract over which we rode in single file, always ascending slightly, and the chain of the Great Atlas stood out more definitely than we had yet seen it, when, at past 9 o’clock we reached Misra ben Kara, and found to our relief that the baggage train had just preceded us. About 11 P.M. some food was prepared, and, being fairly tired, we soon lay down for the night after a frugal meal. But not to sleep, for the furious barking of the dogs from the adjoining village, or _douar_, and the clatter kept up by our own people, did not let us close our eyes till the night was far spent. On this, as on many another occasion, we were forced to admire the extraordinary endurance of the common people of this country. It was not mainly the amount of work they are able to accomplish, but their high spirits and cheerful demeanour under hardships and difficulties. Four of our men travelled on foot, walking or running at a jog trot under a burning sun, and on arrival in camp the same men were always ready for work in setting up tents, moving heavy luggage, and attending to the various wants of their employers. Having often to wait till midnight for their food, they would pass the time in lively talk, and after the stimulus of a draught of green tea, their renewed spirits generally broke out in the form of songs or chaunts that seemed interminable. Then, after three or four hours’ sleep, they were ready to begin again next morning with the same unflagging energy and spirit. During the day the men on foot resorted to a curious expedient for diminishing the effect of heat, by thrusting a stick down the back between the skin and their scanty woollen garment, and thus securing ventilation. We were up soon after daybreak on May 3. Our camp was close to the wretched village of Misra ben Kara, a large collection of mere hovels put together with mud and dried branches, and enclosed, as the _douar_ generally is, within a sort of rampart formed of the dried stems and branches of the _Zizyphus Lotus_, piled up to a height of eight or ten feet, through which a single opening gives admission to the inhabitants and their domestic animals. It stands at a short distance from the Oued Nyfs,[4] one of the chief streams flowing northward from the Great Atlas. We started about 7 A.M., and soon reached the banks, fringed with magnificent oleanders in full flower, below which the shallow stream runs in a deep bed. Like all the rivers of this country, this is liable to great oscillations; and though it seemed nowhere two feet deep when we crossed it, travellers are said to be sometimes detained for days, owing to the impossibility of fording the stream in rainy weather.