of the Children of Israel. In bold silhouette against the evening sky, camels, donkeys, going and coming, the men fine upstanding fellows, with handsome faces, the type which is seen on the monuments, though for long centuries they have been mere serfs. There are some ten millions of these fellaheen, all living within three or four miles of the river, on either side. The river itself, too, is a highway, comparatively crowded with craft carrying pots, produce, and miscellaneous cargo. The air is full of voices; the stars are wonderfully brilliant, the planets hanging like lamps in the blue-black sky; lights are twinkling in the villages, and now and then the howl of a jackal makes night hideous. One night, uninclined to sleep, I stepped across the plank that led to the shore, and went up the bank under which we were moored, on the top of which were tamarisks and a sort of dwarf oak. There I caught sight of several men, sitting round a fire, their heads and shoulders shrouded in their burnouses, with rifles across their knees, smoking and chatting. I retraced my steps, and the next morning learnt from the dragoman who they were. "The Sheik of the district we are passing through, out of compliment to the English travellers, had posted an armed guard for our protection; not," he added, "that there is any need of that now, but a few years ago it might have been necessary." A good example of the effect of the Pax Britannica since our occupation of Egypt.
Our crew, with the exception of the Reis (captain), an Arab, were all fellaheen, first-rate boatmen, eighteen in number—all Mahomedans. They were most particular in their devotions, morning, noon and sundown, not all together, but each by himself, kneeling, pros-
