I dreaded the approach of night. We were now at the foot of a range of
high rocky hills, from which the torrents during the rainy season had
torn countless ravines in their passage through the lower ground; we
were marching parallel to the range at the very base, thus we met every
ravine at right angles. Down tumbled a camel; and away rolled his load
of bags, pots, pans, boxes, &c. into the bottom of a ravine in a
confused ruin.--Halt! . . and the camel had to be raised and helped up
the opposite bank, while the late avalanche of luggage was carried
piecemeal after him to be again adjusted. To avoid a similar catastrophe
the remaining three camels had to be UNLOADED, and reloaded when safe
upon the opposite bank. The operation of loading a camel with about 700
lbs. of luggage of indescribable variety is at all times tedious; but no
sooner had we crossed one ravine with difficulty than we arrived at
another, and the same fatiguing operation had to be repeated, with
frightful loss of time at the moment when I believed the Turks were
following on our path.
My wife and I rode about a quarter of a mile at the head of the party as
an advance guard, to warn the caravan of any difficulty. The very nature
of the country declared that it must be full of ravines, and yet I could
not help hoping against hope that we might have a clear mile of road
without a break.
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