we came to an anchor outside the harbour, awaiting daylight to get in. We had thus made the voyage in a little over sixty hours, which was fair work considering the light breezes and calms we had encountered for a portion of the way. Early on the following morning we sailed into the spacious harbour, let go our anchor, and hoisted the Turkish ensign. As soon as we had got pratique I bade farewell to my friendly skipper and his crew, and put off to the quay in the dhow's boat. Shortly afterwards I saw the other dhow (which had been sailing through the night while we lay at anchor) come in. My friend had done his utmost to urge on his crew, and they had tried their best to outstrip us; but we had beaten them very easily, having sailed two knots to their one. Ours was the larger and faster vessel, and I think we carried the better crew. My dhow sailed for Jiddah that afternoon, while I, turning my back on the sea for awhile, travelled inland on mules and camels across six hundred miles of mountain and desert.
DOWN THE NILE CATARACTS
The voyage I am now about to describe is very different from that I undertook in the Red Sea on the dhow El Hamdi. To any who contemplate the navigation, with a sailing craft, of the rapids of a great river, the following narrative may afford some useful hints.
It was in October 1896. I had been representing
