Empty it was indeed; never did I see such a place of desolation.
The Black Kendah had left it just as it stood, except for a pile of corpses which lay around and over the altar in the market-place, where the three poor camelmen were sacrificed to Jana, doubtless those of wounded men who had died during or after the retreat.

The doors of the houses stood open, many domestic articles, such as great jars resembling that which had been set over the head of the dead man whom we were commanded to restore life, and other furniture lay about because they could not be carried away.

So did a great quantity of spears and various weapons of war, whose owners being killed would never want them again.
Except a few starved dogs and jackals no living creature remained in the town.

It was in its own way as waste and even more impressive than the graveyard of elephants by the lonely lake.
"The curse of the Child worked well," said Harut to me grimly.

"First, the storm; the hunger; then the battle; and now the misery of flight and ruin." "It seems so," I answered.