Chapter 13

CAIRO AND THE PYRAMIDS.

On Monday morning, after enjoying our usual breakfast at the Casa Nova of boiled eggs, rolls and pure honey, good coffee, and delicious oranges, we bade farewell to our tonsured hosts and the staff of gowned attendants. The carriages were waiting near the Jaffa Gate to convey us to the station. The train moved off promptly at the appointed hour, and looking backward, we took our farewell glimpse of the Tower of David and the yellow walls of the Holy City.

During the three hours' ride to Jaffa the threatening clouds passed away, the sun re-appeared, the rough winds changed to soft breezes, and our depressed spirits rose correspondingly. By the time the orange groves in the suburbs of Jaffa came into sight, the tourists were in a gay and cheerful humor. But when we arrived at the pier of Jaffa, we discovered that the sea still felt the effects of the gale. The surf was rolling high and the angry waves were breaking violently over the ugly-looking rocks in the harbor, hiding them for an instant from view and sending the snowy spray high into the air. As we looked out toward the Moltke riding at anchor a mile away, many of the gay faces became sober. The boatmen holding the tossing boats to the pier urged us to embark.

"But timorous mortals start and shrink to cross the narrow sea, And linger trembling on the brink and fear to launch away"

"Oh, I cannot venture! Go without me! Leave me behind!" exclaimed one of the ladies, trembling and almost fainting through fear. "Those black rocks momentarily emerging and disappearing seem like the heads of terrible monsters waiting to devour us as soon as we come within their reach."

"Do not be alarmed," said one of the officials on the pier, encouragingly. "The sea, as you say, has a threatening look, but I assure you that if there were any danger we would not permit you to attempt the passage. These Syrian boatmen have been carrying passengers for years and know every rock in the harbor. They brought the Damascus tourists from the Moltke without mishap this morning when the sea was rougher than now. Trust the boatmen and you will soon be safely on board the steamer."

As our boat in its passage over the stormy billows plunged downward into the trough of the sea, and horizon, ship, and land were hidden from view, we thought that the uplifted, on-coming crests of the waves would engulf the boat beneath them; but, expertly handled by the trained rowers, the craft rose with each immense surge and safely passed the breakers. The Syrian boatmen, who had been continually chanting their hymns to Allah while plying their oars, suddenly stopped singing.

"Bachsheesh! Backsheesh!" they cried, ceasing to row, while one of them, doffing his fez, passed it around the boat for contributions. The passengers, grateful for safety, dropped their coins into the fez; again the oars were put in motion, the chant was resumed, and in a few minutes the boats were alongside the vessel.

Then came the difficulty of getting on board the steamer; for the little boat lay underneath the platform at the foot of the ship's ladder, tossed by the billows. As each heaving swell, however, bore the boat upward, two sturdy seamen on the platform, reaching down, grasped a passenger's arms and drew him up while the boatmen assisted from underneath. In this way, one with each wave, the tourists safely embarked. The passage from the pier to the steamer affected the tourists in various ways: many were frightened, notwithstanding the assertion of the official that the dangers were more apparent than real; others were exhilarated by the tossing waves and enjoyed the thrilling experience.

"I was so interested in watching the muscular development of the boatmen as they pulled at the oars, and in admiring the dexterity and skill with which they managed the boat, that I did not think of danger," remarked a man who had been stroke oar on a college crew.

While the tourists were being transferred to the ship, the band on deck was playing "Home, Sweet Home," and the Captain and other officers standing at the head of the stairway gave a friendly greeting to the wanderers as they came on board.

"It is pleasant to be welcomed back in this friendly manner," remarked one of the ramblers to another as they entered their cabin, "and then it is so homelike here in our stateroom, with our photographs and nick-nacks pinned around the walls."

A busy afternoon of re-packing followed the departure from Jaffa, for on the following day the tourists were to leave the steamer at Alexandria to remain twelve days in Egypt. Clothing that was considered suitable for the climate of that warmer region was carefully selected and condensed into the smaller receptacles, and every article that the tourists supposed would not be required was left in the staterooms.

On Tuesday morning, March tenth, at seven o'clock, the Moltke was anchored in the commodious port of Alexandria, which is enclosed by long stone breakwaters that have been built into the sea to protect the harbor. Many vessels were at the docks or at anchor in the port, and a handsome white yacht flying the imperial flag of Germany lay within a stone's throw of our steamer.

"The Crown Prince of the German Empire is visiting Egypt and that is his yacht," said one of the officers.

The morning was bright and clear. It was a delight to breathe the warm salt air and feel its invigoration. Overhead the sky was brilliantly blue and the sea reflected it in various hues.

"Did you ever see such wonderful coloring on the waters of sea or river?" asked an enthusiastic beholder. "Near by the sea sparkles in the morning sunlight in azure and olive and darkens into sapphire and emerald, and there beyond the breakwater it changes to tints of violet and purple. I have heard that the colors of the Mediterranean are beautiful; now I know they are."

The row boats that were to carry us ashore gathered around the steamer. The bare-footed boatmen, with faces of various shades from light yellow to intense black, were attired in red fez, white bloomers, and long red sweaters.

At the custom house on the dock the custom officials accepted the statement of the managers that the baggage of the tourists contained nothing dutiable, and the baggage was passed without examination. A special train was on the pier ready to convey the party to Cairo. Beggars and peddlers attempted to approach the train to ask alms or sell their wares, but were driven away with whips by black Nubian soldiers in dark blue uniforms, who appeared to take delight in snapping at the bare legs of the intruders.

It was just noon when our train, the second special section, moved out of Alexandria through long rows of large warehouses; for Alexandria is the chief seaport of Egypt and exports the cotton, grain, sugar, rice, and other productions of the valley of the Nile. As the train passed rapidly southward through the delta of the Nile, we realized that we were in a land entirely different from any that we had previously visited. The trip of one hundred and thirty miles to Cairo will be remembered by the tourists as a panoramic succession of interesting pictures of agricultural life. The land on both sides of the railway was a black, sandy loam, level almost as a floor, intersected and broken only by the canals and irrigation ditches. For some distance out of Alexandria the Mahmudiyeh canal was in sight.

"There is a scene that is familiar to me!" exclaimed one of the party. "A landscape hanging in the art gallery of our city represents the light blue water of a canal mirroring tufted palms and wing-like sails. It was painted by a noted artist, who has successfully reproduced many beautiful Egyptian views."

Nile boats with breeze-filled canvas, caravans of camels on the embankment of the canal, and trains of donkeys laden with marketing for the city by the sea, seemed stationary as we rushed by. The land appeared to be thoroughly cultivated. There were no fences or waste corners in sight. Every foot of workable ground was utilized for raising crops.

"Irrigation makes this almost rainless region the most fruitful on the globe," remarked one of the managers of the tour. "By the aid of irrigation the Egyptian farmers can raise two or three crops every year. To do so, however, they must labor incessantly and give the land thorough cultivation. Irrigation with them is not opening the gates of a sluiceway and letting the water flow over the land. It means severe labor, pumping the water up from the ditches, canals, or river, in which the surface of the water may be ten or twenty feet below the surface of the land. The pumps are the same kind that the people used in the days of the Pharaohs, and the methods of cultivation are the same as in those ancient times, without modern agricultural implements or modern machinery. Three crops, therefore, does not mean great prosperity, but simply enables the Egyptian farmer to pay taxes that would seem enormous to an American farmer, and then to have a surplus sufficient to supply his very moderate wants."

The monotony of the level stretches was varied by groups of palm trees whose tall rough trunks upheld graceful heads of outstretched, drooping leaves, and by villages of small mud huts roofed with stalks of sugar-cane, sufficient, we imagined, in that dry country, to protect the inmates from the burning noonday heat, and to shelter them from the chilling night dews. Occasionally the train stopped at large and apparently prosperous towns, where there were substantial stone buildings and busy factories. At these stations Arab venders offered coffee, lemonade, fruit, and other refreshments to appease the hunger and thirst of the travelers.

The fields were full of life. Each cultivated acre had its dark-hued laborers with hoes, or bare-legged toilers drawing water from the ditches for irrigating the thirsty land, or plowmen guiding teams of ungainly, striding camels or dark gray, crooked-horned oxen. In the lush meadows many of these curious-looking animals were grazing. The camels, the small donkeys, and the gray oxen or water-buffaloes as the natives called them, tied to stakes, were restricted to the pasturage within reach of their tethers. Along some of the irrigating canals naked dark-skinned men and boys splashed about in the water, or stood unabashed on the bank of the stream, gazing at the passing train.

"Look at that scene," cried one of the passengers. "I wonder whether our cattle at home would not enjoy similar treatment."

In the canal some naked boys were mounted on a buffalo, and near them an Arab, also in the water, was scrubbing the back of another buffalo, to the evident enjoyment of that animal.

As we approached Cairo, the great valley of the delta narrowed, and mountain boundaries loomed up in the distance. Far away to the right the tops of the Pyramids, looking very small, silhouetted the sky. On the left, high hills broke the landscape, and presently the buildings and minarets that crowned the hills were outlined on the horizon. Handsome villas, beautiful gardens, good roads, and increasing traffic in the suburbs indicated the nearness of a prosperous city.

Just four hours after leaving Alexandria our train entered the station at Cairo, where hotel-runners, cab-men, and porters gave the passengers a noisy reception. Complete arrangements having been made in advance for our party, we had time to take in the novel sights leisurely. The party had been divided into two sections; one section booked for the famous Shepheard's Hotel, the other section for the Hotel Grand Continental. The avenues through which we were driven on the way to the Hotel were bordered with large shade trees. The streets were full of life. The buildings were modern, seemingly of French style, with a mixture of Oriental architecture.

"What a contrast," said one, thinking aloud of the city we had left but two days ago, as our carriage glided smoothly over the well paved highways. "Did two cities ever present a stronger contrast than Jerusalem, with streets narrow, rough, filthy, and depressing to the spirits, and Cairo, with avenues broad, smooth, clean, and pleasing to the senses? The interest in the city of Jerusalem had to be stirred by the memorials of the sacred events of the past; the discomforts of the present had to be overlooked. The city of Cairo appeals to us at once as a pleasure ground with attractions on all sides, and the promise of comfortable surroundings."

The hotels of Cairo are famous throughout the world for the magnificence of their appointments, the cosmopolitan character of their guests, and the novelty of the sights that may be seen at their doors. When we drove up to the Hotel Grand Continental, a military band was giving an afternoon concert in the beautiful Esbekieh Gardens opposite the hotel. On the wide pavement in front of the piazza of the hotel, dragomen in elaborate Arabic costumes were offering their services as guides or interpreters. "Want a guide? want a guide?" they inquired of all strangers who they thought might need such service. Arab urchins, whose hands may have once been clean, offered picture postal cards for sale; bootblacks solicited patronage and beggars asked for alms; match peddlers endeavored to dispose of their little boxes; flower sellers thrust their bouquets forward into notice; dealers in scarabs and miniature mummy cases proclaimed the virtues of their charms; and venders of beads offered endless varieties of their fanciful, colored Egyptian wares. Interest in the scene was heightened by the variety of the characteristic flowing gowns peculiar to the natives of Egypt. On the piazza, groups of guests were taking afternoon tea, and listening to the music in the park opposite, or, seated comfortably in wicker chairs, found amusement in watching the animated throng on the sidewalk; in observing the arrivals and departures on donkeys and in victorias; and in viewing the constant panoramic procession on the street.

The head porter, in gorgeous uniform, received us with the air of a proprietor; Arab bell boys in bright red silk gowns responded to the call of the manager and conducted us to our rooms; and Arab men in white gowns brought up our luggage. There were French maids on each floor to attend to the calls of the ladies; but Arab men in spotless robes made the beds, cared for the rooms, and took the place of chambermaids. These Arab men were seated in the wide halls when not employed at their tasks, but whenever a guest approached they rose and stood at attention, appearing very tall in their white drapery. In the dining room the English head waiters in dress suits contrasted strangely with the dark-skinned Arab waiters in handsome silk gowns of various colors.

On the evening we arrived in Cairo the large gardens of Shepheard's Hotel were beautifully illuminated with thousands of electric lights and hundreds of Chinese lanterns festooned among the shrubbery. Two military bands alternately played selections from favorite composers during the evening. An exhibition of fire-works made a brilliant display, and this was followed by a "battle of confetti" in the garden and a dance in the hotel. Our party bought packages of paper confetti and joined the gay crowd of merrymakers in casting handfuls of the colored squares of paper at each passer-by. At the dance the great variety of handsome uniforms worn by the English officers attracted our attention, the red jackets of some of the men being particularly noticeable among the light gowns of the French and English women.

Plans to utilize our time to the best advantage were carefully made, so that during our one week in Cairo we might give precedence to the places of particular interest, and see them at the most suitable hours.

When we visited the Egyptian Museum, the wealth of antiquities displayed within its commodious and well-lighted halls held us with a grasp from which it was difficult to break loose. The mummies of the old kings who had been dead for thirty centuries urged us to remain. "We will tell you the story of remote ages," they seemed to say. There Ramses II, with gray hair, thin beard, and pierced ears, the great conqueror, builder of temples, erector of statues, and maker of history, lay peacefully at rest. His lips were firmly closed, his hands folded across his breast. His high forehead indicated the judgment with which he governed, and the strong nose suggested the greatness of his power. And near him, in hieroglyphic-covered coffins, reposed Seti I, constructor of magnificent edifices; Ramses III, oppressor of the Israelites; and many other famous kings, queens, priests, and warriors. The wooden statue of a village sheik with good-natured face and crystal eyes, and the tinted limestone, lifelike statues of Prince Rahotep and his wife Nofret, could they have spoken, might have revealed the secrets of ages long before the times of the mummies; and the gray stone figure of Chepren, which was found in the well of the temple of Gizeh, might have explained the mysteries of pyramid and sphinx.

From the parapet of the citadel which crowns the heights above Cairo, we gazed at the extended view of roofs, mosques, minarets, and tombs of caliphs, and listened to the story of the massacre of the Mamelukes and the legend of the one who marvelously escaped by leaping on his horse over the parapet to the ground sixty feet below. To convince us of the truth of this legend, the dragoman showed the impression of the horse's hoofs in the stone coping on the wall. The large Mosque of Mehemet Ali, on the heights, is built of pure alabaster and carpeted with costly rugs. The older Mosque of Sultan Ahmed, at the foot of the citadel hill, is built of sandstone taken from the Pyramids, and, although partly in ruins and with bare stone floors, it is yet beautiful.

"This mosque make Ahmed glad. He not want another built like it, so he chop hand off architect," explained our good-natured dragoman, whose control of English was limited, but he endeavored to relate the legends and give information.

While returning from the citadel we came by an open-air market, where Egyptians of many types were gathered in groups around piles of merchandise and vegetables. Here our camera man, taking advantage of an opportune moment, caught a dense mass of faces before the natives became aware of his presence.

On Friday afternoon we visited the Monastery El Akbar to see the religious exercises of the Twirling Dervishes, which take place there every Friday afternoon. The shrill music, the fanatic faces, the obeisance to the leader, the whirling men, the naked feet, and the never-touching skirts, just as we beheld them, are pictured vividly by Canon Rawnsley, in his "Idylls and Lyrics of the Nile."

THE DANCING DERVISHES.

The shrillest pipe man ever played Was making music overhead, And in a circle, down below, Sat men whose faces seemed to show Another world was all their trade.

Then up they rose, and one by one, Shook skirts down, following him who led To where the elder brother sat-- All gaberdine and conic hat, Then bowed, and off for Heaven they spun.

Their hands were crossed upon their breast, Their eyes were closed as if for sleep, The naked foot that beat the floor, To keep them spinning more and more, Was careless of all need for rest.

Soon every flowing skirt began Its milk-white spinning plane to keep, Each brother of the holy band Spun in and out with lifted hand, A Teetotem no longer man.

The gray old man, their leader, went Throughout his spinning fellowship, And reverently to the ear, Of every dervish circling near, He spake a soft encouragement.

The piper piped a shriller psalm, The dancers thro' their mystery moved, Untouched, untouching, and the twirl That set our giddy heads awhirl, Served but to give their faces calm.

We drove from Cairo to the Pyramids of Gizeh, a distance of ten miles, over a substantial macadamized avenue. This broad highway, elevated eight or ten feet above the adjoining lands in order to protect it from the flood of water during the time of inundation, was bordered for seven miles with large shade trees, and was in perfect condition. On one side of the avenue an electric tramway extended from the bridge at Cairo to the Mena House Hotel near the Pyramids.

"We might have reached our destination more quickly in the cars," said our manager as an electric car sped by us, "but at such speed we should have missed much that is strange and curious. We thought it preferable to take the trip in open carriages."

The scenes along the way as we drove to the Pyramids were indeed novel. In the gardens in the environs of the city, the cabbage, onions, beans, and strawberries were in readiness for the market, and in the fields, the clover and forage plants, dark in color and luxuriant in growth, were ready for the sickle, but the wheat was yet green. The fellahs--the Egyptian farm-laborers--were cutting the rank clover in square patches and stacking it on the backs of camels or donkeys. Along the road stalked camels beneath huge stacks of fragrant clover, and donkeys so laden with newly-cut forage that only their heads and feet could be seen. A crooked-horned ox with an Arab farmer on his back ambled by. A caravan of camels laden with blankets, tents, and military supplies, accompanied by a guard of white-helmeted English soldiers, almost blocked the road as they marched past. Bronzed-faced natives seated in the shade dealt in sugar-cane stalks, cutting pieces of cane from the pile of stalks beside them as they were sold. Turbaned Arabs sauntered by, chewing with evident enjoyment the sweet stalks which they had purchased. Bedouins from the desert rode past on camels bedecked with tasseled trappings, swaying back and forth as they rode. Women, partly veiled, coming from the wells, balanced on their heads large earthen bottles filled with water.

"There are many pyramids," said the guide, as our carriage emerged from the shade of the trees and the Pyramids were seen in the distance, "but Cheops is the greatest, and it is the one that is ascended by visitors; the other Pyramids are viewed at a distance but are visited by few. Cheops is four hundred and fifty feet in height and each side of the base measures seven hundred and fifty feet. It was originally much larger and higher but the outer layers of stone were torn down and carried away to Cairo to build mosques and palaces. The adjacent Pyramid of Chepren is almost as large but as some of the steps are cased, it is more difficult to ascend. When we arrive at the pyramids you may take camels or donkeys and ride around the base of Cheops. Or if you prefer to go on foot, you may walk around it, but walking in the sand is tiresome. Then we will proceed to the Sphinx and, after viewing it, descend to the excavated temple near the Sphinx. Afterwards, those who feel equal to the exertion may climb to the summit of Cheops. As this Pyramid is built of huge blocks of stone about three feet in thickness each step upward requires some effort. The Bedouins, however, will assist you in the ascent, two of them mounting the step ahead and drawing you up while a third pushes behind."

As we neared them, the Pyramids, which at first had seemed small and hazy in the distance, became distinct and grew in size. When very close to them they appeared enormous, but their magnitude was not fully appreciated until some hours later, after we had tramped through the sand around the four sides of great Cheops. After that walk, a distance of more than half a mile, we could judge with greater exactness the immense proportions of the extensive base. The slope of the sides prevented a fair conception of their height when looking upward at them; but after reaching the top of Cheops, panting with the exertion of the laborious climb in which we had been assisted by three Bedouins, we looked down at the midgets moving on the sand below, and were convinced that the altitude stated by the guide was not exaggerated.

The Pyramids of Gizeh stand upon a plateau about four hundred acres in extent, which appeared to be thirty or more feet above the level of the surrounding country. The surface of this plateau is a barren sandy tract, bordered by cultivated land on the side toward the Nile and merging on the west into the Libyan desert which stretches to the distant hills. Just as far as the inundation of the Nile spreads or the irrigating water was pumped, the land was fertile; where the surface rose above the height reached by the water, the land was a barren waste. Almost as suddenly as landing from an emerald sea on to a desert shore, we stepped from a rich growth of verdure to a bare slope of yellow sand.

At the foot of the Pyramid of Cheops a gesticulating, vociferous throng of Bedouins crowded about us, shouting in Arabic mixed with a few intelligible English words. Camel-drivers and donkey boys offered the services of their animals to make the circuit; helpers, almost dragging us away in their eagerness, insisted that we should climb to the summit; and guides with candles in their hands importuned us to accompany them into the gloomy interior. After a selection of camels and donkeys had been made by those who desired to ride, the clamorous crowd of natives separated, and we were allowed to start accompanied by but a few, who followed in case they should be needed. "Madam might drop her shawl, or want her umbrella carried, or need an arm to steady her in the saddle," explained the guide.

"For scores of centuries," remarked the professor, as we stood before the Sphinx, "the strong winds from the west have carried particles of sand from the desert and deposited them around the Pyramids. Now the original base of Cheops lies twenty or thirty feet beneath banks of sand and debris that have collected around it. In the same manner the encroaching particles, drifting like the light dry snows of the prairies, have almost engulfed the Sphinx. Many times in the past the sand has been shoveled away to prevent the Sphinx from being hidden from sight, and if this excavation in which it now stands should be neglected for a time, the desert winds would fill the pit again and gradually cover the monument. The Granite Temple adjacent to the Sphinx was covered over so completely in the progress of centuries that its location was forgotten. It is but fifty years since the French archæologist Mariette discovered and excavated the interior of this large structure, the exterior of which, as you see, yet remains embedded in sand as far as the capstone on the walls."

After descending the steps that led down to the floor of the buried temple and passing through rooms constructed of blocks of alabaster, we stood in the main hall, surrounded by monolithic pillars of granite which supported enormous blocks of the same material overhead. The guide said that these huge blocks of granite had been brought from quarries at Assuan, far up the Nile, but he could not tell how the ancient Egyptians had been able to handle the monoliths.

"My theory may not be correct," said the professor, as we turned to him for a reply to the query "but I will state it. We know how the great blocks of limestone that were used in the erection of the Pyramids were brought from the Libyan mountains; for the father of history, Herodotus, relates the story. He says that the Egyptians constructed a solid road sixty feet wide of polished stone from the quarry in the Lybian mountains and over this smooth roadbed dragged or rolled the huge blocks. He also states that as the work progressed, these blocks were lifted by machines from step to step and imbedded in their places in the pyramid. When granite or other stone had to be brought from a great distance for the erection of temples and palaces, as for this granite and alabaster temple of the Sphinx, the Egyptians probably adopted the simplest way of conveying the material in a land where task-masters drove tens of thousands of slaves to labor on the public works. That is, they probably excavated canals from the Nile to the quarries, supplementing these, where necessary, with stone roadways or slides, and made other canals from the Nile to the location selected for the buildings, and transported the unwieldy masses of stone on barges to their destination."

"I made some calculations for comparison last night," continued the professor, seeing that we were interested in his statements. "Professor Petrie, the archæologist, says that there are over two million large blocks of stone in the Pyramid of Cheops, or ninety-two million cubic feet."

"Now, Professor," said one of the ladies, interrupting him, "you are getting above our comprehension when you soar into millions."

"Am I?" he replied. "Well, I will leave the millions and give you something more familiar. The Capitol at Washington is seven hundred and fifty feet long,--just the length of each side of the base of Cheops,--but the Capitol is not half that in width. The Capitol covers an area of three and one-half acres; the Pyramid spreads over thirteen acres. The apex of the Pyramid is one hundred and sixty feet higher than the head of Freedom on the dome at Washington. The Capitol is a hollow structure; the Pyramid, a solid mass, excepting the comparatively small chamber of the tomb and passage ways. The stone used in the construction of Cheops would be sufficient to build the Capitol and the Library of Congress, and there would be enough material left over for capitol buildings in each of the states in the Union. When you have time, calculate how many miles of stone wall might be constructed with ninety-two million cubic feet of stone. It is only by comparison that we can comprehend the stupendous bulk of these magnificent monuments, and realize the prodigious amount of labor that was required for their erection."

It was but a short drive from the Hotel Grand Continental to the Muski, the narrow street that is the centre of the bazaar district, a district which every visitor is sure to find soon after his arrival in Cairo. When we entered the crowded Muski, we left the broad avenues of the modern city behind and walked in narrow Oriental streets through which carriages are not allowed to go.

"Everything is novel and interesting in this busy thoroughfare," said one of our party. "I suggest that we move along very slowly and stop frequently. See that lemonade vender with the brass tank strapped to his back. When he bent forward the water flowed from the spout over his shoulder into the cup he held in his hand, without his touching the tank. He is waiting for his customer to produce the pennies that apparently cannot be found."

The street scenes in the Muski were so kaleidoscopic that it is impossible to give more than a suggestion of their character. A few representative scenes can be given and around these the imagination must picture a constantly changing throng, not hurrying as in busy American cities, but moving leisurely in the Eastern manner. The crowd was orderly, but not quiet, for tongues were in constant use. Merchants and customers chattered and parleyed. Venders of licorice water and sweetmeats did not permit their presence to be overlooked, and donkeys occasionally joined in the chorus. Each figure unfamiliar to our Western eyes, in turban or in fez, in slippers or in bare feet, in scant gown of cotton or full robe of silk, was a subject worthy of being considered individually.

A baby, astride its mother's shoulder, clung to her head while she walked along and made her purchases, apparently unconscious of her child. A bare-footed water carrier, bearing on his back an unwieldy goatskin distended with its contents, cried, "Water for sale." A donkey boy pushed aside the crowd to let the closely veiled, silk-mantled lady rider pass through on her caparisoned donkey. Muscular fellahs, or peasants, in brown skull caps, and blue shirts which reached to their ankles, their feet bare, their teeth remarkable for whiteness, sauntered along chewing stalks of sugar-cane. Women of the poorer class passed by, wearing scanty gowns of plain blue cotton, heavy copper bracelets, and nose ornaments of brass, which held in place the veils that covered the lower part of their faces but did not conceal the beauty spots tattooed on their foreheads. A funeral procession, with professional mourners chanting monotonously a hymn to Allah, followed a casket borne on the shoulders of men. And these curious scenes, which we tried to catch with the camera, formed but unimportant parts in an ever-moving picture in which were intermingled the costumes, colors, and facial characteristics of dervishes, priests, and soldiers, of Arabs, Nubians, Turks, and Americans.

The Muski and the crooked little passage-ways that intersected it were lined with small shops where many of the dealers sat cross-legged on platforms within arm's reach of their stock of goods. The stores for the sale of each kind of goods had a special quarter of their own. At one place we saw the shops of the coppersmiths with stocks of bright kettles, pitchers, basins, trays, and pans; at another, the stores of the shoemakers, where hundreds of bright red slippers dangled on lines overhead. In one crooked alley, but four feet in width, we watched the goldsmiths, squatted in narrow quarters, busily at work with brazier and blowpipes and curious little tools, hammering, twisting, and welding chains of gold, and making ornaments of silver filagree.

We bought souvenirs at the stalls of the fez dealers, where but one style of headgear was sold, always red in color, and with prices varying according to the quality of the cloth and lining. We stopped at the warerooms of the brass-smiths, which were larger in size than the ordinary shops, and found these filled with an array of hammered trays, censers, bowls, tankards, curiously wrought lamps, and ornamented candlesticks, that attracted many buyers. We looked into the little factories of the saddlers, which were gay with red and yellow trappings for donkeys and horses, and where the saddlers were stitching with bright colored-threads.

The light open-front workshops of the makers of hempen camel harness were hung with the twisted rope and tassel adornments of variegated colors with which the Bedouin delights to array his ship of the desert. The stores of the grocers were adorned with long decorated candles suspended by the wicks. We saw hundreds of tiny bazaars for the sale of perfumes, placed side by side in a narrow lane where the air was scented with musk and attar of roses; and we walked through narrow streets where, each kind in its own section, earthen water jars, lanterns, books, ornamented leather work, gems, and precious stones were displayed for sale.

The guide insisted that we should spend a little time in the carpet stores in a side street. We yielded to his entreaties, and were surprised by the immense stacks of exquisite silk rugs; but to the courteous salesman's offer to show us everything in his place, we were compelled by lack of time to reply, "Another day." When we arrived at the more prominent silk bazaars, the ladies wished to buy some light shawls interwoven with gold thread and table covers embroidered with silk. They soon found out, however, that, as in the other Oriental cities, much time would be required for bargaining, and so the shopping was put off until the sight-seeing was over.