The lights of their towns, controlled by jihadists, twinkle beneath them in the moonlight. The people of the mountain can see their villages, and the headlights of the jihadi patrols snaking through the streets they have abandoned, and know they cannot return.
Small campfires light up the side of the mountain, stretching towards the Syrian border just visible in the distance, where the Yazidis eke out their lives in a desperate search for sleep, food and water.
Round the campfires a bedraggled spectacle of humanity sit making tea in empty bean cans torn in half.
As the sun rises, the sound of fighter jets can be heard. Any thought they might bring salvation disappears as they roar off. They are protecting the front lines in the Kurdish capital Erbil. The homes of these thousands of people, remnants of an ancient sect driven out by Isis (Islamic State), are lost and will not be recovered any time soon. Another day of temperatures above 37C, and too little water to drink, is beginning. Jagged rocks smashed so many of the water bottles dropped from above. A Red Crescent official estimated 40 to 50 per cent of the supplies thrown out of American air force planes were destroyed on impact.
The Yazidis' ordeal began on August 4, when Islamic State descended on the city of Sinjar and the surrounding towns and villages.