The first thing to be done after gaining standing-room was to fight for greater comfort; and never a Holyhead packet in the olden time showed a finer scene of pugnacity than did our pilgrim ship.  A few Turks, ragged old men from Anatolia and Caramania, were mixed up with the Maghrabis, and the former began the war by contemptuously elbowing and scolding their wild neighbours.  The Maghrabis, under their leader, “Maula Ali,” a burly savage, in whom I detected a ridiculous resemblance to the Rev. Charles Delafosse, an old and well-remembered schoolmaster, retorted so willingly that in a few minutes nothing was to be seen but a confused mass of humanity, each item indiscriminately punching and pulling, scratching and biting, butting and trampling, with cries of rage, and all the accompaniments of a proper fray, whatever was obnoxious to such operations.  One of our party on the poop, a Syrian, somewhat incautiously leapt down to aid his countrymen by restoring order.  He sank immediately below the surface of the living mass:  and when we fished him out, his forehead was cut open, half his beard had disappeared, and a fine sharp set

[p.192] of teeth belonging to some Maghrabi had left their mark in the calf of his leg.  The enemy showed no love of fair play, and never appeared contented unless five or six of them were setting upon a single man.  This made matters worse.  The weaker of course drew their daggers, and a few bad wounds were soon given and received.  In a few minutes five men were completely disabled, and the victors began to dread the consequences of their victory.

Then the fighting stopped, and, as many could not find places, it was agreed that a deputation should wait upon Ali Murad, the owner, to inform him of the crowded state of the vessel.  After keeping us in expectation at least three hours, he appeared in a row-boat, preserving a respectful distance, and informed us that any one who pleased might quit the ship and take back his fare.  This left the case exactly as it was before; none would abandon his party to go on shore:  so Ali Murad rowed off towards Suez, giving us a parting injunction to be good, and not fight ; to trust in Allah, and that Allah would make all things easy to us.  His departure was the signal for a second fray, which in its accidents differed a little from the first.  During the previous disturbance we kept our places with weapons in our hands.  This time we were summoned by the Maghrabis to relieve their difficulties, by taking about half a dozen of them on the poop.  Sa’ad the Demon at once rose with an oath, and threw amongst us a bundle of “Nabbut"-goodly ashen staves six feet long, thick as a man’s wrist, well greased, and tried in many a rough bout.  He shouted to us “Defend yourselves if you don’t wish to be the meat of the Maghrabis!” and to the enemy-"Dogs and sons of dogs! now shall you see what the children of the Arab are.”  “I am Omar of Daghistan!” “I am Abdullah the son of Joseph!” “I am Sa’ad the Demon!” we exclaimed, “renowning it” by this display of name and patronymic.  To do our enemies justice, they showed no