caravan expedition. At length a start was made, the mules laden with our tents and luggage going on in front, and ourselves bringing up the rear. The little hotel of El Kantara, with the few patches of vegetation surrounding it, was the last sight we had of civilised life. Following the telegraph posts, which mark the route from Egypt to Syria, we then entered the rolling desert, and soon began to enjoy that feeling of freedom which a boundless plain always inspires. Only life on the sea, with all its wonderful charms, is to be compared to a journey through the desert. In the midst of its vast and solitary expanse the traveller feels himself overwhelmed, and his imagination conjures up strange forms on the far horizon. The desert is to the Arab what the sea is to the sailor; for both, their proper element has a permanent and irresistible attraction. Old Abou Nabout, the leader of our caravan, rode on quietly in front, his eyes gazing steadfastly across the sandy plain, and dreams of his youth doubtless floated through his mind as his horse threw up clouds of sand with his hoofs.

Our first ride soon came to a pause, for instead of encamping at two hours' distance from El Kantara, as I had ordered, the moukri (mule-driver) unpacked our tents in a small sandy valley which we reached in half an hour only. Knowing from experience how necessary it is to insist upon the execution of orders once issued, especially at the commencement of a caravan journey, I made the moukri pack up again, at which he was evidently not best pleased. We then continued our course until we came to a shallow depression of the sandy ground, where I directed our tents to be pitched. We travelled in a comparatively comfortable manner, being furnished with two tents for sleeping, and a third in which we took our meals. Besides these, we had a smaller tent for a kitchen.

Everything was unpacked—our stores, the forage for our animals, and the water casks. These had to pass a careful inspection by our old leader, who repaired those which were leaky. The thirsty mules and donkeys were taken back to El Kantara to drink, and the camels were driven to graze in the neighbourhood, where were a few tamarisks, Salsola echinus, Portulaca, and other plants of the desert.

Our tents were soon in order, and under their shelter we at last enjoyed our rest. Before sunset we saw our animals return from El Kantara. Horses and mules were then re-saddled and fastened together in a straight line to a long rope. Their shadows, thrown by the moon upon the sand, were extremely grotesque. We could now count them at our leisure. There were seven horses, five mules, and three donkeys. The camels, seven in number, were allowed to wander freely over the desert. To an inexperienced traveller their huge forms on the vast plain, in a dark night, have the appearance of ghastly phantoms. Our moukri and the camel-drivers had lighted a big fire, and were now stretched out at full length around it. We had four moukri, one of whom was a Persian named Ahsen, and two camel-drivers, Daud and Hassan, both from El Harish. We heard Abou Nabout's voice every now and then in the kitchen tent for some little time, but complete peace soon reigned, and it was not long before our little camp were fast asleep.

II.

TO BIR EL NUS AND KATYA.

The camels left the camp the first thing in the morning, that they might have a good start of us, and by half-past seven o'clock the luggage was disposed of, and we were again in the saddle. The traces of our sojourn were still visible upon the moving sand, but would in all probability become obliterated soon after our departure. It was a glorious day, and we felt braced and invigorated by the pure air of the desert. Proceeding through a uniform plain covered with purslane bushes, we saw rising in the distance to our right, or south-east, the Jebel Abou Assab, "Mountains of the father of the sugar-cane." From the more elevated spots of the undulating surface we could see two steamers passing up the canal, one of which was Austrian. The spectacle of these enormous vessels, with their tall masts, majestically advancing to all appearance through a sea of sand (for the canal itself was invisible), had a most singular effect, and made us appreciate anew the wonderful character of M. De Lesseps's grand undertaking. It was not long, however, before the highest masts disappeared like phantoms behind the sandy waves through which our path lay. After passing a small hillock on our right, called Gerba—"water skin," we reached an undulating piece of ground commanding a view of the mountains above referred to, and of the group of palms known as Zaega—"the Beautiful." At the same time the scene was agreeably relieved by one of those phenomena so common in the desert. A beautiful mirage became gradually developed to our left, displaying the reflection of a large lake, with its irregular outline, and even showing with marvellous vividness the ruffled surface of the water. At some distance we observed several Bedouins, and not far from us some of their women, most of whom were engaged in leading black goats to their scanty pasturage.

A little further on, we came to a small hollow where at one time a little water was to be met with, but which is now quite dry. We then met a caravan of people from Ramleh, in Syria, who were taking a few wretched horses and mules to Egypt for sale, and subsequently two Bedouins, who applied to us for the customary backshish.

JEBEL ABOU ASSAB.

Monotonous as our route was, we were not without entertainment and sources of interest. Soon after starting we were joined by a remarkably lean dromedary, bearing the mails from El Harish. We learned from his rider, who, as may be imagined, was glad enough of the company of a caravan, that the post went each way once a week, and so kept up some degree of communication between El Harish and the outer world. The ease with which the fleet animal strode across the sandy ground was quite delightful to witness. Now and again he got some distance ahead, and our horses had some difficulty in overtaking him. The entomology, too, of the desert did not escape our attention. We collected several specimens of Anthia, Asida, and Scarabæus sacer, the historical Scarabæus of the Egyptians.

After going slightly up hill for some distance further through the wearisome sand, our eyes were gladdened by the sight of the group of palms "El Guja"—"the snail," at the foot of the sand-hills, towards which we turned that we might take our lunch beneath their grateful shade. As one descends, a charming desert scene is presented by this oasis, with the Jebel Abou Assab in the background. As soon as we reached the spot, at half-past eleven o'clock, we pitched our little tent, and, soothed by the gentle rustling of the breeze through the leafy crowns of the tall and slender palms, enjoyed a delightful rest. I afterwards made a sketch of a portion of the group (see illustration), while Vives (one of our party) shot a couple of Calander larks and captured a snake. Striking our tent at two o'clock, we went, before continuing our journey, to look at the little well, which is lined with palm-stems to keep out the sand. We found the water saline, as is usual with desert springs.