_Wednesday, Dec. 14._——Broke camp, and started the caravan at 8.30 A.M. Now for the great desert journey! All the morning we pass peak after peak of a volcanic nature. At 2 P.M. we stopped, took a hasty bite of lunch in a sort of cave in a mountain called Elemnasir. Then on and on we go, swaying back and forth on our camels, and trying to “bone down” to the regular business before us. At 5.15 P.M. we went into camp for the night, considering it wiser not to make too long a day of the first one, as camels and men were both fresh, but to reserve our forces for the great strain toward the last. The spot chosen for our camp is a wild place under the shelter of a volcanic peak called Diakazarkha. Up goes the tent, all hands taking hold with a will. Mourgan starts a fire; now then, in the words of the “old folks’” song, “Jerusha, put the kettle on and we’ll all take tea.” Mourgan produces a marvel of a meal for such a place, and we fall to at once to do it ample justice. Our caravan consists of 19 camels and 15 men. The guide is a strong, bold fellow, thoroughly up to his business, and evidently enjoys commanding his men. The camels get only 2½ quarts of dourra a day, carry about 400 lbs. each, and are expected to go without water till we reach Murrat. Our water supply is to last us till we reach the Nile at Aboo-Hamed, as the water at Murrat is not drinkable. How brightly the stars shine out here. The stillness of the desert soon rests upon the camp, broken only by the occasional growl of a camel, and the snoring of the men.