plain; and as our friends came nearer and nearer the Pyramids seemed to rise higher and higher, till it was difficult to believe that they were the work of human hands, and were only a few hundred feet in height. In a little while the attention of the youths was drawn to the minarets of the Mosque of Mohammed Ali and the high walls of the Citadel, on the summit of the hill that overlooks and commands the city of Cairo. Their glances turned from pyramids to mosque, and from mosque back again to pyramids, and from the sharp outline of the Mokattam Hills to the glistening sands of the Western Desert. Near by were the rich fields of the Valley of the Nile, and now and then the shining water of the old river was revealed through openings among the fringe of palms; the mud-built villages of the Egyptians passed as in a panorama, the white walls of the houses of Cairo took the place of the more primitive structures, groups of men and camels, and other beasts of burden, were seen wending their way to the great city or returning from it. The population grew more dense, the houses and gardens assumed a more substantial appearance, roads gave way to streets, and gardens to blocks of houses, and all too soon for our excited travellers the train rolled into the station at Cairo, and the journey to the wonderful City of the Caliphs had been accomplished.
From the sentimental to the practical the transition was instantaneous. Hardly had the train halted before the carriages were surrounded by a crowd of hotel runners, dragomen, guides, and other of the numerous horde that live upon the stranger within the gates. Doctor Bronson had telegraphed to the Hotel du Nil to send a carriage and a guide to meet his party at the station; the guide was there with a card from the manager of the hotel, and at once took charge of the strangers and their baggage, and showed the way to the waiting carriage. Frank said he should advise all his friends on their first visit to Cairo to follow the Doctor's example, and thus save themselves a struggle with the unruly crowd and a vast amount of annoyance. The worst feature of a journey in Egypt is the necessity of a constant fight with the great swarm of cormorants that infest all public places where travellers are likely to go; many a journey that would have been enjoyable with this evil removed has been completely spoiled by its presence.
From the moment when you touch Egyptian soil till the moment when you leave it there is little rest from the appeals of the beggar, and the demands, often insolent, of those who force themselves and their services upon you. The word "backsheesh" (a present) is dinned into your ears from morning till night; it is with you in your dreams, and if your digestion is bad you will have visions of howling Arabs who beset you for money, and will not be satisfied. Giving does no good; in fact it is worse than not giving at all, as the suppliant generally appeals for more; and if he does not do so he is sure to give the hint to others who swarm about you, and refuse to go away. If you hire a donkey or a carriage, and give the driver double his fare, in order to satisfy him, you find you have done a very unwise thing. His demand increases, a crowd of his fellows gather around, all talking at once, and there is an effort to convince you that you have not given half enough. Not unfrequently your clothes are torn in the struggle, and if you escape without loss of money or temper you are very fortunate.
The railway-station at Cairo is an excellent place to study the character of the natives, and to learn their views regarding the money of others, and the best modes of transferring it to their own pockets.
From the station our friends drove through the new part of Cairo, where the broad streets and rows of fine buildings were a disappointment to the youths, who had expected to see quite the reverse.
"Don't be impatient," said the Doctor, "we shall come to the narrow streets by-and-by. This part of Cairo is quite modern, and was constructed principally under Ismail Pacha a few years ago. He had a fancy for making a city on the plan of Paris or Vienna, and giving it the appearance of the Occident instead of the Orient. In place of the narrow and sometimes crooked streets of the East he caused broad avenues to be laid out and tall buildings to be erected. The new city was to stand side by side with the old one, and for a time it seemed as though the Eastern characteristics of Cairo would be blotted out. But the money to carry on the improvements could not be had, and the new part of Cairo has an unhappy and half desolate appearance. The natives preferred the old ways, and there was not a sufficient influx of foreigners to populate the new city. It had grown rapidly for a few years, but suddenly its growth was suspended, and here it has been ever since."
They passed several public and private buildings that would have done honor to any European city, and if it had not been for the natives walking in the streets, riding on donkeys, or now and then conducting a stately camel, they might easily have believed themselves far away from Egypt. Suddenly the scene changed; they passed the new theatre, where Ismail Pacha delighted to listen to European operas performed by European companies; they crossed the triangle known as the Square of Ibrahim Pacha, and containing a bronze statue of that fiery ruler; and by a transition like that of the change in a fairy spectacle, they were in one of the crowded and shaded streets of the City of the Caliphs. They had entered the "Mooskee," one of the widest and most frequented streets of the part of Cairo that has not succumbed to Western innovations, and retains enough of its Eastern character to remain unpaved.
The speed of their carriage was reduced, and a boy who had been riding at the side of the driver jumped down, and ran ahead shouting to clear the way. The boys thought they were travelling in fine style to have a footman to precede them, but the Doctor told them it was the custom of the country to have a runner, called a "syce," to go before every carriage, and clear the way for it. The syce carried a stick as the badge of his office, and when he was in the employ of an official he had no hesitation in striking right and left among those who were in the way. High officials and other dignitaries employed two of these runners, who kept step side by side, and were generally noticeable by the neatness of their dress. No matter how fast the horses go the syce will keep ahead of them, and he does not seem at all fatigued after a run that would take the breath out of an American.
They met other carriages; they met camels and donkeys with riders on their backs, or bearing burdens of merchandise, and they passed through crowds of people, in which there were many natives and some Europeans. The balconies of the houses projected over the street, and in some places almost excluded the sunlight, while their windows were so arranged that a person within was entirely concealed from the view of those without. The boys observed that the carving on the windows revealed a vast amount of patience on the part of the workmen that executed it, and they wondered if all the windows of Cairo were like those they were passing. Some of the walls were cracked and broken, as though threatening to fall; but the windows appeared so firmly fixed in their places that they would stay where they were when the rest of the building had tumbled.
While they were engrossed with the strange sights and sounds around them, the carriage halted at the head of a narrow lane, and our three friends descended to walk to the hotel.
Chapter IV.
STREET SCENES IN CAIRO.
Frank and Fred were up in good season on the morning after their arrival in Cairo. While waiting for breakfast they read the description of the city, and familiarized themselves with some of the most important points of its history, which they afterward wrote down to make sure of remembering them. Here is
