Having returned to our quarters, we started on foot a little after mid-day, on an excursion to Mount Tekút, which, from its elevation and its shape, appeared to us well worth a visit. Descending the slope by the “trík tobbi,” a road made by the Turks, we reached the eastern foot of the mountain, after an hour and a half’s expeditious march through the village Gwásem, and olive-groves, and over a number of subterranean dwellings. My companion went round to the south side in search of an easier ascent. I chose the cliff just above us, which, though steep, indeed, and difficult on account of scattered blocks and stones, was not very high. Having once climbed it, I had easier work, keeping along the crest, which, winding upwards in a semicircle, gradually led to the highest point of the mountain, on the north side, with an absolute elevation of about 2,800 feet. On the top are the ruins of a chapel of Si Ramadán, which, I think, is very rarely visited. The crest, which has fallen in on the south-east side, encloses a perfectly circular little plain, resembling an amphitheatre, and called Shʿabet Tekút. The mount appears evidently to have been an active volcano in former times, yet my companion declared the rock not to be pure basalt. The view was very extensive, and I was able to take the angles of several conspicuous points. After we had satisfied our curiosity, we descended along the northern slope, which is much more gradual, being even practicable for horses, and left the “Shʿabet” by the natural opening. Thence we returned along the path called Um eʾ Nekhél, which passes by the Roman sepulchre described by Lyon in general terms, and situated in a very conspicuous position. Accompanied by the shoush, I made an excursion in a south-westerly direction. The villages, at least those above the ground, are generally in a wretched condition and half deserted; still the country is in a tolerable state of cultivation, saffron and olive-trees being the two staple articles of industry. Passing the little subterranean village of Shuedeya, we reached the Kasr Teghrínna, originally a Berber settlement, as its name testifies, with a strong position on a perfectly detached hill. At present the kasr, or the village on the hill-top, is little more than a heap of ruins, inhabited only by a few families. At the northern foot of the hill a small village has recently been formed, called Menzel Teghrínna. On the west and east sides the hill is encompassed by a valley with a fine olive-grove, beyond which the Wady el Arbʿa stretches westwards; and it was by this roundabout way that my guide had intended to take me from Wady el Ugla to Kasr Ghurián. Protected by the walls, I was able to take a few angles; but the strong wind which prevailed soon made me desist.