The bottom of the valley was a meadow, in which grew several enormous
fig trees by the side of a sluggish, and in some places stagnant, brook.
The valley was not more than half a mile wide, and was also walled in by
mountains on the west, having the appearance of a vast street.
We were now about a mile ahead of our party; but accompanied by our two
Latooka guides, and upon descending to the valley and crossing a deep
gully, we soon arrived beneath a large fig tree at the extremity of the
vale. No sooner was our presence observed than crowds of natives issued
from the numerous villages among the rocks, and surrounded us. They were
all armed with bows and arrows and lances, and were very excited at
seeing the horses, which to them were unknown animals. Dismounting, I
fastened the horses to a bush, and we sat down on the grass under a
tree.
There were five or six hundred natives pressing round us. They were
excessively noisy, hallooing to us as though we were deaf, simply
because we did not understand them. Finding that they were pressing
rudely around us, I made signs to them to stand off; when at that moment
a curiously ugly, short, humped-back fellow came forward and addressed
me in broken Arabic. I was delighted to find an interpreter, and
requesting him to tell the crowd to stand back, I inquired for their
chief.
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