A maraboot, of great sanctity, is the principal person in Traghan, as his father was before him. During the reign of the present bashaw’s father, when the Arab troops appeared before the town, the then maraboot and chief went out to meet them; and, from his own stores, paid sixty thousand dollars to prevent the property of his townspeople from being plundered. They make carpets here equal to those of Constantinople. There are some springs of good water in the gardens near the town, the only ones in Fezzan, it is said, except the tepid one at Hammam, near Sockna. After being crammed, as it were, by the hospitality of the maraboot, we left Traghan for Maefen, an assemblage of date huts, with but one house. The road to this place lies over a mixture of sand and salt, having a curious and uncommon appearance: the surface is full of cracks, and in many places it has the effect of a new ploughed field: the clods are so hard, that it is with great difficulty they can be broken. The path by which all the animals move for some miles is a narrow space, or stripe, worn smooth, bearing a resemblance, both in hardness and appearance, to ice: near Maefen, it assumes a new and more beautiful shape, the cracks are larger, and from the sides of cavities several feet deep hang beautiful crystals, from beds of frost of the purest white[9]. I broke off a large mass, but the interior was as brittle as the exterior was difficult to break; the frost work was fine salt, and fell away in flakes on being lightly shaken. It extends more than twenty miles, east and west. The water of Maefen, though strongly tinctured with soda, is not disagreeable to the taste, or unwholesome. Quitting Maefen, we quickly entered on a desert plain; and, after a dreary fourteen hours march for camels, we arrived at Mestoola, a maten, or resting place, where the camels find some little grazing from a plant called Ahgul. Starting at sun-rise, we had another fatiguing day over the same kind of desert, without, I think, seeing one living thing that did not belong to our kafila—not a bird, or even an insect: the sand is beautifully fine, round, and red. We now arrived at Gatrone. The Arabs watch for a sight of the high date trees, which surround this town, as sailors look for land; and after discovering these landmarks, they shape their course accordingly.