[p.156]a cocoa tree’s,[FN#28] the Badawin would not neglect it.  We lay down upon the sand, to rest among a party of Maghrabi pilgrims travelling to Suez.  These wretches, who were about a dozen in number, appeared to be of the lowest class; their garments consisted of a Burnus-cloak and a pair of sandals; their sole weapon a long knife, and their only stock a bag of dry provisions.  Each had his large wooden bowl, but none carried water with him.  It was impossible to help pitying their state, nor could I eat, seeing them hungry, thirsty, and way-worn.  So Nassar served out about a pint of water and a little bread to each man.  Then they asked for more.  None was to be had, so they cried out that money would do as well.  I had determined upon being generous to the extent of a few pence.  Custom, as well as inclination, was in favour of the act; but when the alms became a demand, and the demand was backed by fierce looks and a derisive sneer, and a kind of reference to their knives, gentle Charity took the alarm and fled.  My pistols kept them at bay, for they were only making an attempt to intimidate, and, though I took the precaution of sitting apart from them, there was no real danger.  The Suez road, by the wise regulations of Mohammed Ali, has become as safe to European travellers as that between Hampstead and Highgate; and even Easterns have little to fear but what their fears create.  My Indian servant was full of the dangers he had run, but I did not believe in them.  I afterwards heard that the place where the Maghrabis attempted to frighten what they thought a timid Turk was notorious for plunder and murder.  Here the spurs of two opposite hills almost meet upon the plain, a favourable ground for Badawi ambuscade.  Of the Maghrabis

[p.157]I shall have more to say when relating my voyage in the Pilgrim Ship:  they were the only travellers from whom we experienced the least annoyance.  Numerous parties of Turks, Arabs, and Afghans, and a few East-Indians[FN#29] were on the same errand as ourselves.  All, as we passed them, welcomed us with the friendly salutation that becomes men engaged in a labour of religion.

About half an hour before sunset, I turned off the road leftwards; and, under pretext of watering the dromedaries, rode up to inspect the fort Al-’Ajrudi.[FN#30] It is a quadrangle with round towers at the gateway and at the corners, newly built of stone and mortar; the material is already full of crevices, and would not stand before a twelve-pounder.  Without guns or gunners, it is occupied by about a dozen Fellahs, who act as hereditary “Ghafirs,” (guardians); they were expecting at that time to be reinforced by a party of Bashi Buzuks-Irregulars from Cairo.  The people of the country were determined that an English fleet would soon appear in the Red Sea, and this fort is by them ridiculously considered the key of Suez.  As usual in these Vauban-lacking

[p.158]lands, the well supplying the stronghold is in a detached and distant building, which can be approached by an enemy with the greatest security.  Over the gate-way was an ancient inscription reversed; the water was brackish, and of bad quality.[FN#31]