Temaçin. And as after an exhilarating gallop we entered the dilapidated gate of Temaçin in the wake of a train of laden camels, we wonder if we shall emerge triumphant or be chased out as impostors by a deceived and angry holy man. Perhaps the old, old tricks which have amused the ignorant will be but child's play to this man who, to retain his wonderful influence over the desert tribes—to exact such willing tribute from them—certainly must be intelligent, possibly wise, at least a cunning man familiar with deceptions. Filled with forebodings that our mission will surely prove ridiculous, we approach the Zaouia or headquarters of the religious fraternity, of which the man we are to visit is the head and chief.
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SUBURBAN LIFE
We find in the courtyard a group of visitors awaiting an audience with the holy personage.
We know that the Marabout is the grandson of a saintly hermit who led an austere life here in the desert and gained a great renown for sanctity. When the old hermit died, he bequeathed to his descendants a valuable inheritance; to wit, his reputation for holiness and his poor old bones. The reputation was priceless; the bones were worth their weight in gold, as subsequent events have proved. His descendants have exploited grandfather's bones in a highly civilized and profitable manner. A few choice miracles, a little judicious advertising, and behold! the entire region for hundreds of
