[22] The Taste Of The Water Was Bitter And Nauseous. [23]

Following the course of the Biyu Gora through two low parallel ranges of conglomerate, we entered a narrow gorge, in which lime and sandstone abound.

The dip of the strata is about 45° west, the strike north and south. Water springs from under every stone, drops copiously from the shelves of rock, oozes out of the sand, and bubbles up from the mould. The temperature is exceedingly variable: in some places the water is icy cold, in others, the thermometer shows 68° Fahr., in others, 101°--the maximum, when we visited it, being 126°. The colours are equally diverse. Here, the polished surface of the sandstone is covered with a hoar of salt and nitre. [24] There, where the stream does not flow, are pools dyed greenish-black or rust-red by iron sediment. The gorge's sides are a vivid red: a peculiar creeper hangs from the rocks, and water trickles down its metallic leaves. The upper cliffs are crowned with tufts of the dragon's- blood tree.

Leaving our mules with an attendant, we began to climb the rough and rocky gorge which, as the breadth diminishes, becomes exceedingly picturesque. In one part, the side of a limestone hill hundreds of feet in height, has slipped into the chasm, half filling it with gigantic boulders: through these the noisy stream whirls, now falling in small cascades, then gliding over slabs of sheet rock: here it cute grooved channels and deep basins clean and sharp as artificial baths in the sandstone, there it flows quietly down a bed of pure sparkling sand. The high hills above are of a tawny yellow: the huge boulders, grisly white, bear upon their summits the drift wood of the last year's inundation. During the monsoon, when a furious torrent sweeps down from the Wagar Hills, this chasm must afford a curiously wild spectacle.

Returning from a toilsome climb, we found some of the Ayyal Ahmed building near the spot where Biyu Gora is absorbed, the usual small stone tower. The fact had excited attention at Berberah; the erection was intended to store grain, but the suspicious savages, the Eesa Musa, and Mikahil, who hold the land, saw in it an attempt to threaten their liberties. On our way home we passed through some extensive cemeteries: the tombs were in good preservation; there was nothing peculiar in their construction, yet the Somal were positive that they belonged to a race preceding their own. Near them were some ruins of kilns,--comparatively modern, for bits of charcoal were mixed with broken pieces of pottery,--and the oblong tracery of a dwelling-house divided into several compartments: its material was the sun-dried brick of Central Asia, here a rarity.

After visiting these ruins there was little to detain me at Berberah. The town had become intolerable, the heat under a mat hut was extreme, the wind and dust were almost as bad as Aden, and the dirt perhaps even worse. As usual we had not a moment's privacy, Arabs as well as the Somal assuming the right of walking in, sitting down, looking hard, chatting with one another, and departing.

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