It is four o’clock; the heat lessening, and Wilfrid says he is ready to go on. We must pack.
_April_ 15.—We have at last reached Ram Hormuz, or as it is pronounced “Ramuz.” We left our bivouac on the tell at five o’clock yesterday afternoon. Wilfrid tried riding on horseback, but found the effort too great, and had to give it up and mount his delúl. Our way lay through more long grass, and ditches, and water. I, as sleepy as the night before, was constantly dozing off and waking suddenly in the middle of some long dream, unable to remember where I was. There is nothing so painful as this struggle with sleep, and it lasted all night long. At last we came suddenly in sight of some camp fires about half a mile away to our right, and Abeyeh, fearing to advance further, ordered a halt. There was danger, he said, in coming on an encampment unawares, lest we should be taken for enemies. We did not stop to argue, but with delight obeyed, and in a few minutes were sound asleep upon the ground—nor did we wake till day was already breaking.
A discussion now arose what further was to be done. The tents, we were informed, belonged to the Khamis, an Arab tribe, half Bedouin, half fellah, and Abeyeh was for spending the day with them. But the sound sleep had done Wilfrid good, and as it grew light we could see the palm groves of Ram Hormuz, apparently ten miles off, and we knew that there we should get refuge from the sun. So leaving the rest to follow or not as they would—we got on our horses and started at a gallop, Shiekha and Sayad bounding on in front of us delighted at this unexpected run. At first there was no road, and we got entangled in a series of watercourses, but scrambling through these we reached a footpath where the going was good, and presently overtook a party of Arabs, men and women, riding in on donkeys to market at the town. They all expressed themselves much pleased to see us, taking us to be Arabs like themselves, and here in Persia they always seem delighted to meet their countrymen. They pointed us out the town, for there was more than one grove of palms, and in the mirage which hid everything as the sun rose, we had lost sight of it. At half-past six we stopped at the ferraz-bashi’s door, and in another minute were sitting in a cool court-yard under the shade of a wall, waiting till the respectable functionary, our host, had finished his devotions.