up for us, or were tied up for by us.  The only craft that received no consideration on our part were the various picturesque Arab dhows, with their single masts and the long yards slanting across them.  Since these were very small, our suction dragged at them cruelly.  As a usual thing four vociferous figures clung desperately to a rope passed around one of the snubbing-posts ashore, while an old man shrieked syllables at them from the dhow itself.  As they never by any chance thought of mooring her both stem and stern, the dhow generally changed ends rapidly, shipping considerable water in the process.  It must be very trying to get so excited in a hot climate.

The high sandbanks of the early part of the day soon dropped lower to afford us a wider view.  In its broad, general features the country was, quite simply, the desert of Arizona over again.  There were the same high, distant, and brittle-looking mountains, fragile and pearly; the same low, broken half-distances; the same wide sweeps; the same wonderful changing effects of light, colour, shadow, and mirage; the same occasional strips of green marking the watercourses and oases.  As to smaller detail, we saw many interesting divergences.  In the foreground constantly recurred the Bedouin brush shelters, each with its picturesque figure or so in flowing robes, and its grumpy camels.  Twice we saw travelling caravans, exactly like the Bible pictures.  At one place a single burnoused Arab, leaning on his elbows, reclined full length on the sky-line of a clean-cut sandhill.  Glittering in the mirage, half-guessed, half-seen, we made out distant little white towns with slender palm trees.  At places the water from the canal had overflowed wide tracts of country.  Here, along the shore, we saw thousands of the water-fowl already familiar to us, as well as such strangers as gaudy kingfishers, ibises, and rosy flamingoes.

The canal itself seemed to be in a continual state of repair.  Dredgers were everywhere; some of the ordinary shovel type, others working by suction, and discharging far inland by means of weird huge pipes that apparently meandered at will over the face of nature.  The control stations were beautifully French and neat, painted yellow, each with its gorgeous bougainvilleas in flower, its square-rigged signal masts, its brightly painted extra buoys standing in a row, its wharf—­and its impassive Arab fishermen thereon.  We reclined in our canvas chairs, had lemon squashes brought to us, and watched the entertainment steadily and slowly unrolled before us.

We reached the end of the canal about three o’clock of the afternoon, and dropped anchor off the low-lying shores.  Our binoculars showed us white houses in apparently single rank along a far-reaching narrow sand spit, with sparse trees and a railroad line.  That was the town of Suez, and seemed so little interesting that we were not particularly sorry that we could not go ashore.  Far in the distance were mountains; and the water all about us was the light, clear green of the sky at sunset.