filled the other half of the channel. The left side
was a precipice, grim and barren, but not so abrupt as its brother.
Opposite us the way seemed barred by piles of hills, crest rising above
crest into the far blue distance. Day still smiled upon the upper peaks,
but the lower slopes and the fiumara bed were already curtained with
gray sombre shade.

A damp seemed to fall upon our spirits as we approached this Valley
Perilous. I remarked with wonder that the voices of the women and
children sank into silence, and the loud Labbaykas of the pilgrims were
gradually stilled. Whilst still speculating upon the cause of this
phenomenon, it became apparent. A small curl of smoke, like a lady's
ringlet, on the summit of the right-hand precipice, caught my eye, and
simultaneous with the echoing crack of the matchlock a high-trotting
dromedary in front of me rolled over upon the sands. A bullet had split
his heart, throwing his rider a goodly somerset of five or six yards.

Ensued terrible confusion; women screamed, children shrieked, and men
vociferated, each one striving with might and main to urge his animal
out of the place of death. But the road being narrow, they only managed
to jam the vehicles in a solid immovable mass. At every matchlock shot a
shudder ran through the huge body, as when the surgeon's scalpel touches
some more sensitive nerve. The irregular horsemen, perfectly useless,
galloped up and down over the stones, shouting to and ordering one
another. The Pacha of the army had his carpet spread at the foot of the
left-hand precipice, and debated over his pipe with the officers what
ought to be done. No good genius whispered "Crown the heights."

Then it was that the conduct of the Wahhabis found favor in my eyes.
They came up, galloping their camels,--

"Torrents less rapid and less rash.--"

with their elf-locks tossing in the wind, and their flaring matches
casting a strange lurid light over their features. Taking up a position,
one body began to fire upon the Utaybah robbers, whilst two or three
hundred, dismounting, swarmed up the hill under the guidance of the
Sherif Zayd. I had remarked this nobleman at El Medinah as a model
specimen of the pure Arab. Like all Sherifs, he is celebrated for
bravery, and has killed many with his own hand. When urged at El Zaribah
to ride into Meccah, he swore that he would not leave the caravan till
in sight of the walls; and fortunately for the pilgrims, he kept his