the wind, which has not ceased blowing with great fury since yesterday, and adds materially to our fatigue. We breakfast on this spot; and by exactly eleven o'clock, after a halt of three-quarters of an hour, resume our march. We now pass continued ruins of immense extent, covering the eminence that forms the right bank of the ouad in which we have breakfasted, and leave them by nine minutes past eleven. We have resumed our north-east course, and just as we clear the ruins of Emrâah, we find ourselves again in an avenue of stones, leading through an open cultivated country. This line of road flanks at no great distance a large and deep valley, on the side of which the ruins commence again. From this point the traces of walls, built with irregular blocks of lava, are innumerable, and the road by which we are marching is generally bounded by these blocks planted in the ground, forming two parallel lines, intercepted on the right by the ruined walls I have just mentioned. On the left the traces of walls appear more rarely, owing to the contracted width of the passage. The avenue we are following is now divided from the ouad by only a few yards. The ouad itself seems to be about one hundred and fifty yards wide; its direction is north-easterly, and it is called the Ouad-ech-Cheqiq (the cleft valley).

By half-past eleven we march due, north; and five minutes later reach a well, sunk in the middle of long files of walls, placed on both sides of our road: because the upper level of the Ouad-ech-Cheqiq being then about fifty yards distant from this road, the intervening ground on our left has afforded space enough for these

constructions. From this spot we turn due west, and arrive, by forty minutes past eleven, at the foot of a circular mound, formed of squared blocks of lava, partly covered over with earth, which seem to constitute the base of a small round tower. This ruin is called the Redjom-el-Aabed (the mound of the slave). When I

reach it, I find our Bedouins sitting near a large block of lava, which they point out to me, saying, "Look, there is a stone like those thou art in quest of!"

I look, and find myself in front of a magnificent Stèlon, in black compact lava, representing a bas-relief,

of an antiquity the date of which I shall not presume to determine, even approximately. It consists of a figure as large as life, with the whole of the lower part wanting from the knees, but which, notwithstanding this mutilation, exhibits a monument of art of immense, value. To a certainty, we have before us a Moabitic sculpture. A personage, wearing a helmet of Assyrian shape, holds with both hands a javelin with a large iron head, with which he seems to strike a man supposed to be in supplication at his knees. The upper part of the body is naked, but from the hips down to the knees he is clothed in a short close tunic, exactly similar to that worn by the Egyptians. Over the right shoulder of this personage, and behind his back, is hung a bended bow, without any apparent string. Behind the warrior is the figure of a lion, of small dimensions, which appears to be merely the ornamented leg of a throne, judging by its diminutive size. The relievo of this figure is well defined, the expression of the face strongly marked, and characterised with a savage energy.

A glance suffices to convince me that this is a hybrid monument, in which the Egyptian and the Assyrian styles are intermingled. My joy at the discovery of this treasure may readily be conceived. This joy I am silly enough to give way to, under the eyes of the surrounding Bedouins; I express my wish to acquire possession of this piece of sculpture, for the removal of which I still more unguardedly offer twelve hundred piastres. I perceive too late that, notwithstanding my intentional reserve, which I had so deliberately resolved to maintain, I have completely defeated myself,

and shall most certainly be compelled to leave behind me this invaluable monument of antiquity.

No sooner have I named the twelve hundred piastres, than the old tales of treasure-diggings begin to be whispered around me. The Beni-Hammids, who inhabit this country, are the first to bring forward stories as worthy of belief as the following:-Every year, on the very same day of the year, some one of the tribe finds a gold piece (a dynar) at the Redjom-el-Aabed, and precisely under the stone that I had been admiring like a child, when I ought to have openly undervalued it. It follows, then, that the interior of this block is crammed with gold, and that if I have a longing desire to carry it off, it is because I know its real value, and the rich treasure it contains. I now, therefore, affect indifference; but too late: I have destroyed my hopes, and nipped my own project in the bud.

A hundred paces further on, I order our tents to be pitched in the midst of stupendous ruins, beside a large cave, supported by a pillar, which will serve as a stable for our baggage animals, and as an apartment for our moukris.

The vast remains, amongst which we are encamped for the day, are named by the Arabs of this district, Kharbet-Fouqaûa (the red ruins). Without any possible doubt, we are here on the site of a Moabitic town of the highest antiquity. The ground is strewed with fragments of coarse-coloured pottery, exactly resembling the primitive samples of earthenware found at Santorin in places buried under volcanic beds, of an unknown period. I pick up at every step large cubes of original

mosaic, white, black, and red. We shall shortly inquire what town this may have been, on whose ruins we are treading at this moment.

Schihan lies directly eastward in front of us; a ruin crowning an isolated hillock, and commanding all the extensive plain of Moab. Important discoveries may, perhaps, await us in such a place; we have still several hours' daylight, which we can employ in this excursion. Such being the case, we determine to proceed at once to Schihan. We leave to our people the care of pitching our tents, arranging our luggage in order, and preparing our kitchen apparatus; and we are off again by nineteen minutes past twelve, without any escort beyond two Arabs of the Beni-Hammids, who follow us on foot.

We soon pass on our right a cistern; then, after having traversed cultivated fields, entirely cleared from rubbish, we come to other ruins covering both sides of a narrow valley, which we cross at its neck, where it is closed by four or five huge cyclopean walls, placed alternately so as to support the earth, whilst leaving a passage for the rain-waters to run down the bottom of the ravine. This ouad, which is merely a continuation of the one commanded right and left by the ruins amidst which we had pitched our camp, is called the Quad-Emdebêa.

Between our encampment and the Ouad-Emdebêa, we have again followed an avenue of stones. Beyond the ouad, we cross another small cultivated plain, commanded by a very low mound, on the top of which is a cistern surrounded by walls built with blocks of lava.