The path was so overgrown that the camels could scarcely pass under the overhanging branches, and the leather bags of provisions piled upon their backs were soon ripped by the hooked thorns of the mimosa.

The salt, rice, and coffee bags all sprang leaks, and small streams of these important stores issued from the rents which the men attempted to repair by stuffing dirty rags into the holes.

These thorns were shaped like fishhooks; thus it appeared that the perishable baggage must soon become an utter wreck, as the great strength and weight of the camels bore all before them, and sometimes tore the branches from the trees, the thorns becoming fixed in the leather bags.

Meanwhile the donkeys walked along in comfort, being so short that they and their loads were below the branches.
My wife and I rode about a quarter of a mile at the head of the party as an advance guard, to warn the caravan of any difficulty.

The very nature of the country showed that it must be full of ravines, and yet I could not help hoping against hope that we might have a clear mile of road without a break.