The first call to prayer of the day is broadcast over a loudspeaker shortly after 4 a.m. on the Diksam plateau, which is located close to Socotra Island in Yemen. One of the island's most recognizable and exotic species—a peculiar, upside-down tree known as the dragon's blood (Dracaena cinnabari)—is visible from the plateau, where a heavy fog is drifting, and a breeze rustles half a dozen green and blue nylon tents housing American and European tourists.

A tiny group of structures that make up the settlement, the campground, and, to the west, a single paved road that winds its way past the angular Hajhir mountains toward the northern coast are illuminated as the fog dissipates with the rising light.

The village is bustling with activity by 6 am. Mohammed Salem Abdullah Masoud, also known as Keabanni, the proprietor of the campground, is seated on a foam mattress in a clearing. His oldest son, a tour guide and conservationist named Salem Mohammed Salem Abdullah, is also present. Both people have breakfast of tea, dates, and a pancake-like bread called malawah spread with soft white cheese and honey while sitting cross-legged and donning sandals, T-shirts, and traditional skirt-like clothing known as foutas. The extraordinary dragon's blood tree, which only grows on the island's highlands and high plateaux, is being discussed by Keabanni, a man in his mid-fifties. He speaks to me in Socotri, and Salem translates. "The dragon's blood tree is the heart of Socotra," he says.

As a young boy, Keabanni heard tales from his great-grandparents of enormous forests filled with dragon's blood trees. They claimed that there were so many trees on the plateau that you could stroll from one tree's shelter to another without ever feeling the sun on your skin. They were nomadic pastoralists, just like his parents and grandparents, traveling from place to place to feed and water their cattle. According to Keabanni, "It was the Bedu lifestyle," alluding to the Bedouin ethnic group that is widespread throughout the Middle East and north Africa.

Families pitched their tents under the trees at night, and during the day the umbrella-shaped crowns of stiff, tightly packed leaves offered shade from the harsh noon sun on the island. The vivid red resin that leaks from the dragon's blood trunk when it is cut was ground into a fine powder and sold to Greek, Arab, and Indian traders who shipped it around the world where it was used in paint and pottery glaze, makeup, and nail polish, as well as as an ointment for cuts and scrapes and as an elixir to treat everything from diarrhea to postpartum bleeding.

But in recent decades, the strains of a changing climate and human activities have taken a toll. According to some biologists, the dragon's blood tree will likely see a sharp drop during the next 30 to 80 years and may eventually disappear entirely. According to Petr Madra, a professor of forest botany at Mendel University in the Czech Republic, "the long-term future of this species is not hopeful."

But Keabanni isn't going down without a struggle over the trees. His Diksam campground, which includes a nursery and an unofficial research center, has operated as a type of dragon blood conservation headquarters for the past 20 years.

On the way to Firmhin, a plateau north of Diksam where there are still many dragon's blood trees, the first dragon's blood tree that can be seen is a lone tree on a patch of arid, rocky terrain that is a few feet off the gravel road. The tree is around 15 feet tall and has a scarred, thick, ash-white trunk that is kinked in the middle. The thick, scaly branches that grow from the top of the trunk end in a crown of long, thin leaves that resembles a bluegrass lawn that has recently received water.

Dragon's blood trees have the ability to do the opposite, getting water from the air and transferring it into the soil, as opposed to most trees that draw water from the soil and up their roots to the leaves. According to scientists, the dragon's blood tree's distinctive structure is an adaptation to live in its dry environment that enables the trees to absorb moisture from fog and clouds, a technique known as horizontal precipitation capture. Each dragon's blood tree is thought to be able to add several times as much water to the soil as the area's rainfall, which is a vital part of the island's hydrological system.

"One dragon's blood tree brings a huge amount of water into the system," claims Kay Van Damme, a researcher from Europe who works on the island since the late 1990s and is also the chair of the UK-based volunteer organization Friends of Socotra. Van Damme is a professor at Mendel University and Ghent University in Belgium. "If you lose a tree, you also lose hundreds of litres of water each year that would otherwise go into the system," the man claims.

The dragon's blood tree, which supports dozens of other plant and animal species, including geckos, snakes, and floral plants, is referred to as a "umbrella species"—not because of its shape but rather because of the ecological role it plays. A study by one team of scientists found 92 plant species overall, 32 of which, including seven indigenous species, were discovered to grow only close to dragon's blood trees. This study contrasted the plants found living in the understory of a dragon's blood tree to those found in open areas.

As you continue driving, you'll see more trees. The Firmhin plateau is then visible over a wide gorge. The rocky landscape is covered in thousands of dragon's blood trees.

However, for every dozen or so healthy trees, there are dozens nearby that have fallen, their white trunks split down the middle, their enormous crowns overturned, and their white, leafless branches sticking out of the ground like bones.

The name "the blood of the two brothers" or "Dam al-Akhawain," which translates from Arabic as "the blood of the dragon's blood tree," Folklore holds that the first dragon's blood tree blossomed where Darsa and Samha, two brothers, battled to the death. According to a different myth, the trees sprang from the blood that a dragon drained while battling an elephant. The Firmhin plateau is currently made up of a cemetery made of dragon's blood and a forest.

According to biologists, the dragon's blood tree is on the verge of extinction due to two important aspects. One is the current climate problem. The tropical desert climate of Socotra has always been harsh, but in recent years, fewer rainy seasons have resulted in extended and severe droughts. As a result, there is less moisture in the soil, which makes it difficult for seedlings to survive.

In recent years, Socotra has experienced severe winds and flooding brought on by extreme and unpredictable weather systems that are likely fueled by rising waters. About 30% of Socotra's trees were destroyed in one week in 2015 when two cyclones struck the island.

Another important reason in the demise of the trees is overgrazing. According to Maděra, there are four goats for every person on the island, and they consume anything that gets in their way, including the saplings of dragon's blood trees.

The majority of dragon's blood trees found in the wild today are probably hundreds of years old, though it is impossible to determine their exact age because they lack trunk rings. However, the current generation might be the last if there isn't a younger one to take their place.

The largest of the four islands in the Socotra archipelago, Socotra spans 1,400 square miles and is located about 210 miles off the southern coast of Yemen. The archipelago, also known as the "Galápagos of the Indian Ocean," is one of the most biodiverse regions on earth. 95% of the island's land snails, 90% of its reptiles, and 37% of its 825 plant species are thought to be endemic, which means they can only be found on the island. The Socotra archipelago was designated a natural world heritage site by Unesco in 2008.

Socotra, which is situated between the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean, has hosted or been occupied by Russian, Portuguese, and British soldiers; their rusty tanks still border the northern coastline of the island. But those occupations came and went, and the British finally ceded colonial authority of the southern half of what is now the Republic of Yemen in 1967, the same year Keabanni was born in a mountain cave about ten minutes from Diksam. Socotra was practically difficult to visit until the late 1990s, when southern and northern Yemen were reunited and the current state was founded. At that time, Socotra was acquired by the new Yemeni government as a fortified military zone, preventing travel to and from the island.

Van Damme thinks that these limitations, together with the nomadic pastoralist culture of Socotra, which encourages a tight bond between the people and their environment, contributed to the ecosystem's generally successful preservation. "For this reason, Socotra is particularly special. What you see today is how many islands would have appeared 300 or 400 years ago, when there was still time to protect them, the author claims.

However, the island is evolving. Following reunification, the Yemeni government started modernizing the island's infrastructure with help from international relief organizations and other nations. When the island was made accessible to outsiders, a surge of modernization and urbanization, as well as scientific inquiry and conservation, arrived.

Today, no area of the island's capital is undeveloped due to ongoing development and the infusion of foreign currency. Neither Diksam nor the Firmhin plateau have been spared by the development.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) and the UN Environment World Conservation Monitoring Centre currently list 157 plant species on Socotra as vulnerable, endangered, or severely endangered. The IUCN lists the dragon's blood tree as a vulnerable species among these.

As part of a species monitoring effort, Salem is collaborating with the Mendel University research team to identify and quantify each dragon's blood tree on the island. He opens a phone app and checks to see if the tree has been logged when he comes across one. If not, he gathers the tree's GPS coordinates, counts the circumference of the trunk, calculates its height, and records pertinent information like the presence of pests or signs of branch-cutting or resin harvesting. Researchers should have a thorough baseline for each dragon's blood tree on the island after the study is finished in a few years.

The nursery, where Keabanni and Salem have been producing dragon's blood saplings for the past 20 years, is located just a few steps from the Diksam campground. The saplings stand knee-high in rows that are a few feet apart behind a six-foot stone wall. They are now about 20 years old and resemble prickly bushes more than trees; they are large enough to catch horizontal precipitation but too little to escape goat attack. Keabanni searches for goat intrusions every several days.

In the early 2000s, Maděra and Van Damme first met Keabanni, and Madra says that they immediately noticed that "he was a man who [knew] every tree on the island, every species." From the start, the scientists intended to involve the local population in the conservation efforts. According to Van Damme, "local ownership is the only way conservation can succeed." "Because they live there, they are the experts in knowing how to take care of their land, their animals, and their plants."

A total of 800 seedlings were planted by Van Damme, Maděra, and Keabanni. While Keabanni took care of the saplings, the Mendel team offered the first scientific knowledge, technical help, equipment, and finance.

Even though the saplings no longer need daily watering, Keabanni still comes by to keep an eye out for the goats, who are still a constant threat. He calculates that throughout the years, the animals have consumed around 200 seedlings, and that nearly all 600 of the remaining plants have had their ends gnawed off.

The dragon's blood trees will be transplanted into the wild once the saplings have reached a sufficient height. However, dragon's blood trees grow extremely slowly, only 2.65 cm in five years.

Keabanni is aware that it's unlikely he'll ever reap the rewards of his labor. But perhaps in Diksam, his grandkids will once more witness a dragon's blood forest.