to stand
on the deck and see yourself slowly sinking into the great mossy box,
and then to see the great valves of the lock slowly open, disclosing
what seemed a new land and fresh vistas of green landscape! It was like
the opening of the gates of the future (I pleased myself with fancying)
to my triumphant progress. Gate after gate swung back its ponderous
valves: I was Habib advancing from isle to isle of the enchanted sea. I
uttered the word of power, and the huge unwieldy gates of opposition
swung back with sullen and unwilling deference, compelled to respect
the talisman I held. But hark! Hear the sweet notes of the supper-horn
floating through the cool gloom of twilight as the tired reapers trudge
home with their grain-cradles swung over their shoulders. Listen to the
tinkling mule-bells on the tow-path, see the bright crimson tassels of
the bridles, and the gayly-decorated boats, their cabin-roofs adorned
with pots of herbs and flowers.

As we glide down the canal, ever and anon we see some empty returning
boat (called "light boat" in the technical canal phrase) rounding a
curve before us, It comes nearer: the horses walk the same tow-path:
how _are_ the boats to pass without confusion? Ah, the riddle is
solved. Our captain (who holds the helm while the boy, his assistant,
is down in the cabin preparing supper) calls out suddenly, at the last
moment, "Whoa!" The well-trained horses instantly stop; the momentum of
the boat carries it on; the rope slackens, disappears in the water,
except at the two ends; the approaching horses step over it, and the
approaching boat glides over it. When the approaching "light boat" has
passed nearly or entirely over the rope our captain shouts to his
horses to go on: the rope tightens, and all is as before.

The parts of the canal lying between the locks are called "levels." On
long levels we could often see one or two boats far ahead of us and
going in the same direction. Nothing could be prettier than the thin
blue streamer of wood-smoke trailing out from the stovepipe of the
cabin-roof against the bright green of the foliage along the banks. It
told us the cheery news that the fragrant coffee or tea was a-making in
the cozy little cabin below. And now, when supper is done, the captain
brings up his guitar and plays sweet plaintive airs as we glide through
the quiet evening shadows. Night deepens: the stars come out one by
one, and are reflected in the smooth dark water below i