46 THE EMPTY QUARTER

The cliffs of the great estuary towered magnificently over
the low mist in the young light of dawn as the camels were
driven off to the well for their first drink since leaving
Dulaiqiya. It was but four days since then—and cool days
to boot—and most of the animals spurned the potation
offered them. Seven or eight days without water constitute
no hardship for camels under such conditions, and they can
manage as many as ten in full marching order provided that
there be reasonable grazing available on their route. In our
case the pastures had been rather poor, and here among
the sands round our camp the Ghadha bushes were all
miserably brown and dried up by the prevailing drought.
The late summer rains had indeed paid a fleeting visit to this
country south of the Hasa, but there had not been sufficient
precipitation to make the desert blossom. And it was not till
two days later that we were to see the first scanty signs of
really fresh herbage in the uplands beyond Judairat, where
we encountered the faint flush of green that precedes the
spreading of spring's welcome carpet over the parched desert.

At 8-30 a.m. I started off with my small party on a north-
easterly bearing, following the contours of the ground to
avoid the higher ridges of sand. Afar off the sea burst upon
our view as we topped the first rise, from which we now
descended easily from step to step of the high ground on the
southern bank of the estuary. The surface was of a friable
sandstone weathered in places to queer mushroom shapes and
dolmen-like formations. The distant palms of Salwa came
into view with the blue sea on one side and the conspicuous
flat-topped hillock of Qarn Abu Wail beyond Sikak on the
other. The scenery was both impressive and interesting after
the dreary monotony of Jafura, and it was still a little
puzzling for I had not yet been able to assimilate the true
significance of the Jiban formation. Yet slowly enlighten-
ment grew upon me and, as I looked upon the cliffs of the
valley and the great expanse of salt-flats that stretched out
before and below us, I could not resist the conclusion that the
broken, sinuous line of the former encircled an ancient
estuary, while the latter could not but be an old floor of the
sea, from which the waters had receded to their present line