A trifling stream of about two inches in depth trickled
over a bed of sand, shaded by a grove of trees. The putrefying
bodies of about half a dozen donkeys, three or four camels, and
the remains of a number of horses, lay in and about the margin of
the water. Nevertheless, the natives had scraped small holes in
the sand, as filters, and thus they were satisfied with this
poisonous fluid; in some of these holes, the women were washing
their filthy clothes. I immediately determined to follow up
stream, until I should arrive at some clear spot above these
horrible impurities, that were sufficient to create a pestilence.
Ascending the rising ground, I found on the summit, at about half
a mile distant, an immense sycamore (Ficus sycamorus), whose
green and wide-spreading branches afforded a tempting shade. Not
far from this spot, I found the bed of a dry torrent that flowed
into the poisoned stream of Gallabat. I ordered my men to dig a
deep hole in the sand, which fortunately discovered clear and
good-flavoured water. We immediately pitched tents close to the
sycamore. From this elevation, about a hundred and fifty feet
above Gallabat, we had a beautiful view of the amphitheatre of
hills and mountains, while the crowded town lay below, as in the
bottom of a basin.
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