exhausted with my journey, as I was only recovering from an attack of fever, I wished to have some tea.  This was too great an indulgence to be granted by the petty authorities who ruled over the passengers.  Unfortunately, upon leaving Suez, I had given away all my tea to my servant, Mohammed, who was fond of it, nothing doubting that I should be able to procure as much as I pleased on board the steamer.  The refusal was the more provoking, as there was plenty of boiling water ready, and I had humbly limited my request to a spoonful of tea.  Under the circumstances, I was obliged to content myself with milk and water:  had the captain or the surgeon of the vessel been at hand, I should doubtless have been supplied with every thing I wanted, but in their absence, it was impossible to procure a single article.  Upon one occasion, while tea was serving, a passenger in the saloon asked for a cup, and was told to go upon deck for it.

I also procured a supply of soda water at Aden.  I had suffered much from the want of this refreshing beverage during my fever, the supply taken on board having been exhausted on the voyage up.  The passengers down the Red Sea have the disadvantage of sailing with exhausted stores.  It seems hardly fair to them, especially in cases of illness, that the whole of any particular article should be given to the people who embark at Bombay, they having a right to expect that, as they pay the same price, a portion should be reserved for their use.

On the second day after our departure from Aden—­that is, the 22nd of October—­we arrived at Makallah.  It was mid-day before the vessel ceased to ply her engines, and though invited to go on shore, as we could not penetrate beyond the walls of the town, we thought it useless to exchange our cabins for a hot room in the mansion of its ruler.  The town of Makallah, which forms the principal commercial depot of the south-west of Arabia, is built upon a rocky platform of some length, but of very inconsiderable width, backed by a perfect wall of cliffs, and bounded in front by the sea.  It seems tolerably well built for an Arabian town, many of the houses being of a very respectable appearance, two or more stories in height, and ornamented with small turrets and cupolas:  the nakib, or governor’s residence, is large, with a high square tower, which gives it the air of a citadel.

There is not a tree or shrub to be seen, the absence of vegetation investing the place with a character of its own, and one that harmonizes with the bold and bare rocks which bound the coast on either side.  We were told that, between two ranges of hills close to the entrance of the town, a beautiful green valley occurred, watered by delicious springs, and shaded by date-trees.  Had we arrived at an early period of the morning, we might have spent the day on this delightful place, proceeding to it on the backs of camels or donkeys, or even on foot; but it being impossible to get thither while the sun was in full power, we were obliged to content ourselves with a description of its beauties.