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After leaving our camp at Saihon we took a path in a south-westerly direction, and after a few days of somewhat monotonous travelling we came again into the deeper valleys and finer scenery of the central districts of the island. Through them we made our way in the direction of Mount Haghier. Sokotra without Mount Haghier would be like a body without a soul.
We encamped near the hamlet of Saihon, where, though there was no appearance of a mosque, there was not only a mollah but a doctor. The former was so free from fanaticism as to send us a present of a lamb. The inhabitants were very friendly to us, and let us go into their houses and watch their occupations.
We could not help thinking of the 'Moskophoros' when one came up to look at us with a lamb round his neck. We settled there for several days, not being able to go nearer Ras Momi for reasons connected with water. I cannot think it could have been really pleasant to the people of Saihon that we should have drunk up nearly all their water, and only left a little the colour of coffee behind us.
From Saihon my husband climbed up a steep and rugged mountain to a ruined village on a strong place called Zerug. Ammar's family mansion was near: a cave containing three women, some children, and large flocks of goats, kept in the cave by a wall; it is heated at night, and very stuffy.
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