depôt.' In a foot-note he adds: 'A Roman road formerly extended from Akabah to Ghaza, and the direct distance between the two seas is only 120 miles.' So much for 'Graia,' as Laborde styles it; Jezirat Pharoun,' or Kureiyeh, 'the village,' according to more recent orthography.

We looked wistfully at the picturesque ruins which we had no means of visiting, and passed along the winding shores of the gulf, cheered by the prospect of soon reaching so important a stage in our journey. We now gained the entrance of Wady Tabah, a long valley striking inland in a northern direction, and clothed, in some parts, with tamarisks and palm trees. There is a fine cluster of duom palms round a well at the broad flat mouth of the wady, which we specially noted, as this description of palm is rare in the Sinaitic peninsula. It was blowing very hard when we neared the head of the gulf, the wind coming with unchecked force down the noble Wady Arabah which now lay right before us, stretching away beyond the horizon in one unvarying even sandy plain, bounded on the right by the red mountains of Edom. We reached the extremity of the gulf about eleven o'clock, and passed the rock which marks the frontier line between the territories of the Bedawin of Sinai and those who dwell north of the peninsula. The head of the gulf is a perfectly straight line of strand extending between the two shores, probably about two miles in length. Beyond the narrow strip of gravelly beach is the commencement of the hard sandy plain, reaching to the base of the Tîh Mountains, the end of the Wady Arabah. Here we saw numerous broad

regular tracks, made by the Mecca caravan and the many pilgrims who traverse this route past the fortress of Akabah, whose grey towers we could but faintly descry amid the surrounding palm-groves, which give a delicious aspect of verdure to this sun-scorched, arid spot.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CHILDREN OF THE DESERT.

THE Gulf of Akabah, along whose shores we have been pursuing our way for some days past, extends from the island of Tiran, at its entrance, where its waters mingle with those of the Red Sea, for nearly 100 miles in a north-eastern direction, until it meets the wide valley of the Arabah. It was called by the ancients the Sinus Elaniticus, from the port of Elan at its northern end. The Greeks style it by the name of the Gulf of Elath or Ailah, but it was unknown to Europeans for hundreds of years. All along its sides are precipitous mountains, rising in some parts to the height of 2,000 feet, and the general aspect of its shores is that of sterile magnificence. The Arabs dread its waters on account of the frequent storms which prevail, and no commerce exists along its deserted shores to make it worth while for European vessels to run the risks of its hidden reefs, dangerous currents, and uncertain navigation.

Yet the wealth of the Indies was once conveyed along its dark waters to the port of Ezion-Geber, whose site must have been close to the few scattered houses which constitute

the modern town, or rather village, of Akabah. We read in 1 Kings, chap. ix. 26, And King Solomon made a navy of ships in Ezion-Geber, which is beside Eloth, on the shore of the Red Sea, in the land of Edom.' (Verse 27.) And Hiram sent in the navy his servants, shipmen that had knowledge of the sea, with the servants of Solomon.' (Verse 28.) And they came to Ophir, and fetched from thence gold, four hundred and twenty talents, and brought it to King Solomon.' In 2 Kings, chap. xiv. 22, we read how Azariah, King of Judah, built Elath and restored it to Judah; ' but it subsequently was taken possession of by the King of Syria, as narrated in the 16th chapter of same Book, v. 6: 'At that time, Rezin, King of Syria, recovered Elath to Syria, and drove the Jews from Elath; and the Syrians came to Elath and dwelt there until this day.' After the Greeks and Romans successively occupied the country, it was still a place of commercial importance, and as the cycle of events rolled on, became the seat of an episcopal see, its bishops attending certain councils of the Church. The crusaders held it for a time, Baldwin, King of Jerusalem, having planted a garrison in it in the year 1116; but, after the lapse of fifty years, Saladin once more restored it to the dominion of the Saracens. The sole importance which Akabah now enjoys is from its being a station on the Hâj route to Mecca, and the castle contains a small Turkish garrison of some fifty soldiers and fifteen artillerymen to guard the provisions stored here for the pilgrims. It also serves as a depôt of arms and basis of operations in any military expeditions or

incursions into the Desert. There are also a few tents for the purpose of accommodating travellers from any ports of the Red Sea or other places where cholera prevails, who must here undergo quarantine for ten or twelve days. Of recent years Akabah has been made a quarantine station, and certainly I do not envy those who have to swelter in these wretched little tents, which seemed insufficient in size for even one full-grown person. On first approaching the town it has a pleasing appearance, for the surrounding luxuriant palm-groves, with fertile gardens scattered between, and the towers of the castle, give an air of prosperity to the place, which further acquaintance dispels. You pass beside the gardens to reach the castle, and can look over the rough stone wall which surrounds each inclosure. There is abundance of water, with which the Arabs irrigate their garden plots; the soil is by no means bad, and there is an ample supply of various descriptions of vegetables and fruits. In the centre of each garden I observed a sort of hut, formed of mud and palm branches, where the owner, with his family, seemed to take his ease during the heat of the day; not that they had an idle time of it when we were there, for there was a visitation of locusts during two days of our stay, that kept all hands employed in driving off these destructive creatures. The air was filled with myriads of them, not literally obscuring the sunlight, but in numbers that resembled the fall of a continuous shower of heavy snow-flakes. They fell about our tent, covering the sand and clustering on the palm trees, but specially directing their unwelcome