We hear their wild wail long after the procession is out of sight. Going on again presently, our whole attention becomes absorbed by the new and singular geological features of the Libyan desert. The more this plain widens out before our eyes, the more it bristles with peaks. The broken craters of several are plainly distinguishable by the help of a field-glass. We were surprised to find no account of the geology of this district in any of our books.
None seem to have observed their obvious volcanic origin.
Thanks to a light breeze that sprang up in the afternoon, we were able to hoist our big sail again, and to relieve the men from tracking. Thus we glided past the ruins of Maharrakeh, which, seen from the river, looked like a Greek portico set in a hollow waste of burning desert. Next came Wady Sabooah, a temple half buried in sand, near which we met a tiny dahabeeyah, manned by two Nubians and flying the star and crescent. This monster was of a greenish brown color, and measured at least sixteen feet from head to tail. He preferred his crocodile to infidel gold, and scarcely deigned even to reply to the offer.