Some
Were Mere Rises, Whilst Others Reached A Height Of Considerably Over One
Hundred Feet.
Sometimes the ridges would be a quarter of a mile apart,
and sometimes ridge succeeded ridge like the waves of the sea.
On October
3rd, for instance, I find that we were crossing them at a rate of ten in
forty minutes. This gives a result of 105 ridges to be negotiated in a
day's march of seven hours. Riding was almost impossible in such country
as this, for all our energies were required to urge on the poor camels.
All through, we adhered to the same plan as before, viz., doing our day's
march without a halt (excepting of course the numerous stoppages entailed
by broken nose-lines, the disarrangement of a pack, or the collapse of a
camel), having no food or water from daylight until camping-time. This,
without our previous training, would have been an almost impossible task,
for each ridge had to be climbed - there was no going round them or
picking out a low place, no tacking up the slope - straight ahead, up one
side, near the top a wrench and a snap, down goes a camel, away go the
nose-lines, a blow for the first and a knot for the second, over the
crest and down, then a few paces of flat going, then up again and down
again, and so on day after day. The heat was excessive - practically there
was no shade.
The difficulties of our journey were increased by the necessity of
crossing the ridges almost at right angles.
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