CHAPTER IV.

ENCAMPING.

THE evening darkened, and we paced along in perfect silence.

The stars shone with the crisp brilliancy of our January nights, but the air was balmy, veined occasionally with a streak of strange warmth, which I knew was the breath of the desert. Under the palms, along the edges of cultivated fields, we passed a spectral procession, and I caught, at times, the fragment of a song from the Shekh who led the way.

The Arabs who had gone forward with the pack camels, were to encamp just beyond a little town which we entered after dark. It was a collection of mud hovels, and we reflected with satisfaction upon the accommodation of our new tent, and the refreshing repose it promised.

Lost in pleasing anticipations, we scarcely

observed that our line of march was suddenly altered, and I had barely time to save my head from violent contact with the stone cross-piece of a huge gate, when we perceived that we were in a Caravanseri or Khan.

Now a khan in oriental literature,-in parts of Persia and in Damascus, as we shall hereafter seeis no less beautiful than convenient. But this khan in a small mud town was a square court, of the character and dignity of a sheep-fold, and by no means suited our anticipations of a desert camp.

It was dark within the inclosure, but the scene was picturesque.

By the light of two or three torches we could see our camels and those of other travellers lying upon the ground. Groups of Arabs and Egyptian merchants sat around the sides of the yard, with their long chibouques, and arranged for the night. In the middle of the court was a well, and around it were piled our camp equipage and our luggage, which the Arabs had cunningly removed from the camels. Upon entering, my camel snorted and sighed with satisfaction, and immediately knelt, delighted with the prospect and the society. But there was very ominous silence upon all sides.

We were sufficiently accustomed to the people to understand that this was the trial of mastery

between us. The arrangement of encamping outside the town was perfectly comprehended by the Arabs, but they wisely wished to test our metal.

The Howadji were not at all sorry, and after a preliminary burst of surprise and indignation, they ordered the camels to be instantly re-loaded, which was a work of no little time.

The Arabs expostulated in the most astonished

manner.

"What! desert this agreeable khan-this sweet security from thieves and the nameless dangers of the desert! Load the camels for a journey of a few minutes, when all was so comfortably arranged for the night! It was only a pleasantry of the benign Howadji."

The groups of turbans and ample drapery emitted meditative smoke, and complacently watched and listened. Our Arabs scolded and conversed apart with Mohammad, and he, the timorous Commander, made peace with the enemy, and attempted to wheedle his allies. But the command to re-load was sternly repeated; and in the course of an hour we moved triumphantly out of the khan, at the head of our caravan. A few steps beyond the town brought us to the white-domed tomb of a Shekh, just on the edge of the desert, and there the camping ground was chosen.

It

In a few minutes our desert palace was built. was a new white tent, and of circular form, to facilitate the pitching. The pole was planted upon a spot indicated by the Pacha, and the canvass was rapidly laid over and stretched to the pegs. The riding camels were then led up, and made to kneel while the carpets, blankets, and matting were removed from the saddle. We laid the matting upon the sand, spread over it a coarse, thick carpeting, and covered the whole with two Persian rugs, one upon each side of the pole. The travelling bags were then thrown in, and we commenced Arabian housekeeping.

The Commander's tent was pitched at a little distance, and into that were conveyed the chests of cooking utensils, and the household furniture. He built a fire near by, and put on some leathery

water to boil.

The camels, growling and grumbling, lay outside the camp. The fire flashed over the motley figures of the Arabs crouching over it, and looking into it with melancholy eyes. The Commander, chagrined that his active duties must commence that evening, and vexed at the result of his diplomacy in the khan, moved sulkily and silently among the pots and pans, while the Howadji sat smoking in the tent, whose yellow-lined sides drawn back at the

door, framed the picture. All around, the black night closed us in, blacker and more mysterious for the sense of the dumb desert that lay in it. Out of that desert, low, fitful gusts stole through the darkness, and puffed and played with the fire as with a glittering toy. And as the flame mounted and strained in the wind's embrace, it flashed upon the white blank of the tomb, and shrank again among the Arabs, affrighted.

The Commander donned the golden-sleeve, and brought us tea. It was placed on an irregular circular stool, five or six inches high, which served as our desert table. There was more than the original flavour of China and the derived flavour of leather bottles in that tea, for it tasted of pleasant firesides and remembered tables; and by the vivid contrast, as by a song of home, plunged us more remotely into the wilderness.

That ceremony over, and another chibouque smoked, we lay down to sleep. We had brought no iron bedsteads, as many wisely do; but I was not sorry to feel that I was lying on the desert.

Once at midnight in a ship at sea, I awoke, and was conscious of the gentle rocking of the ocean. I knew that the moon was bright upon the canvass above, that even the studding-sails were set, and