The Light Of Day Vanishing, We Again Descended Into A Fiumara
With A Tortuous And Rocky Bed, The Main Drain Of The Landward Mountain
Side.
My companions, now half-starved,--they had lived through three days
on a handful of dates and sweetmeats,--devoured with avidity the wild
Jujube berries that strewed the stones.
The guide had preceded us: when we
came up with him, he was found seated upon a grassy bank on the edge of
the rugged torrent bed. We sprang in pleased astonishment from the saddle,
dire had been the anticipations that our mules,--one of them already
required driving with the spear,--would, after another night of
starvation, leave us to carry their loads upon our own hacks. The cause of
the phenomenon soon revealed itself. In the rock was a hole about two feet
wide, whence a crystal sheet welled over the Fiumara bank, forming a
paradise for frog and tadpole. This "Ga'angal" is considered by the Somal
a "fairies' well:" all, however, that the Donkey could inform me was, that
when the Nomads settle in the valley, the water sinks deep below the
earth--a knot which methinks might be unravelled without the interposition
of a god. The same authority declared it to be the work of the "old
ancient" Arabs.
The mules fell hungrily upon the succulent grass, and we, with the most
frugal of suppers, prepared to pass the rainy night. Presently, however,
the doves and Katas [12], the only birds here requiring water, approached
in flights, and fearing to drink, fluttered around us with shrill cries.
They suggested to my companions the possibility of being visited in sleep
by more formidable beasts, and even man:
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