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Updated: May 2, 2025
Leaving Lieutenant Amir to map the principal ruins, we followed the caravan up the Majra el-Waghir, the long divide rising to the west-north-west. The thin forest reminded me of the wooded slopes of the Anti-Libanus about El-Kunaytarah: there, however, terebinths and holm-oaks take the place of these unlovely and uncomfortable thorn-trees.
Lastly, a regular ascent, the Majra el-Waghir, fronts the city, sloping up to the west-north-west, and discloses a view of the Jibal el-Tihamah: this broad incline was, some three centuries ago, the route of the Hajj-caravan. We walked down the Shaghab valley-bed, whose sides, like those of the Damah, are chevaux de frise of dead wood.
The Nile-drinkers turned up their fastidious noses at the supply, but Lieutenant Amir, who had graduated in the rough campaigning-school of the Sudan, pronounced it "regular." The nighting-place on the Damah was as pretty and picturesque as the Majra was tame and uncouth.
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