is not under his jurisdiction, do the same.  If this had been done, the Arabs would have been forced back against the Euphrates, beyond which the Aenesi Arabs live who are hostile to them.  But Indshe-Bairaktar did not fancy an expedition which was expensive and promised little booty.  When finally definite orders came from the Bagdad-Valesi, the other pashas had already scared away the enemy, who had disappeared into unknown regions.

After a brief and interesting sojourn, therefore, we decided to return through the desert with a caravan which was on the point of starting.  Since the Arabs had been greatly incensed by the recent attacks, the expedition was increased by forty horsemen.  We joined it toward evening in its encampment, about two hours from Mossul, near the Tigris where everybody wished to have one more last good fill of water.  The Kyerwan-Bashi, or leader of the caravan, whom the pasha had notified of our arrival, at once made his appearance and had his tent made ready for us.  He also presented us with a goat for supper.

For five days we traversed the Tsull, or desert of northern Mesopotamia, without seeing any human habitations.  You must not think of this desert as a sea of sand, but as an interminable green plain with only occasional, very slight undulations.  The Arabs call it Bahr, the sea, and the caravans proceed in an absolutely straight line, taking their direction from artificial mounts which rise above the plain like prehistoric graves.  They indicate that once upon a time a village existed here, and that, therefore, a well or a spring must be nearby.  But the mounts often are six, ten or even twelve hours distant the one from the other.  The villages have disappeared, the wells have gone dry, and the rivulets are bitterly salt.  A few weeks later this green plain which now is nourished by copious daily dews will be a wild waste parched by the sun.  The luxuriant growth of grass which today reaches to our stirrups will be withered and every water-course run dry.  Then it will be necessary to follow the Tigris in a wide detour, and none but the ships of the desert, the camels, will be able to traverse this plain, and they only by night.

Our caravan consists of six hundred camels and four hundred mules.  The big bags carried by the former contain almost exclusively palm-nuts for the dye houses of Aleppo, and cotton.  The more valuable part of the freight, silk from Bagdad and shawls from Persia, pearls from Bassora, and good silver money which in Constantinople will be recoined into bad piasters, is small in proportion to the bulk carried.

The camels go in strings of from ten to twenty, one behind the other.  The owner rides ahead on a small donkey, and although his stirrups are short his feet almost touch the ground.  He is continually shoving his pointed slippers into the flanks of his poor beast and placidly smoking his pipe.  His servants are on foot.  Unless the donkey leads, the camels refuse to stir.  With long thoughtful strides they move along, reaching the while with their thin restless necks for thistles or thorns by the roadside.  The mules are walking at a brisk pace.  They are decorated with little bells and beautiful halters gaily set with shells.