My heart sank whenever we cane to a deep ravine or hor; the warning cry of “halt” told those in the rear that once more the camels must be unloaded and the same fatiguing operation must be repeated

My heart sank whenever we cane to a deep ravine or hor; the warning cry of “halt” told those in the rear that once more the camels must be unloaded and the same fatiguing operation must be repeated. For hours we marched; the moon was sinking; the path, already dark, grew darker; the animals, overloaded even for a good road, were tired out, and the men were disheartened, thirsty, and disgusted. Everything was tired out. I had been working like a slave to assist and to cheer the men; I was also fatigued. We had marched from 4.30 P.M–it was now 1 A.M.; we had thus been eight hours and a half struggling along the path. The moon had sunk, and the complete darkness rendered a further advance impossible; therefore, on arrival at a large plateau of rock, I ordered the animals to be unloaded and both man and beast to rest.