e is nothing but a crowd of mud huts,
packed so closely together that there is only room for a single
foot-passenger to thread his way through the narrow alleys between them.
These are the workmen's quarters, and the heat and smell in them are so
overpowering that one wonders how people can live in such places.

By-and-by we come out into a more open space--one of the bazaars of the
city--where business is in full swing. The shops are little shallow
booths quite open to the front; and all the goods are spread out round
the shopkeeper, who squats cross-legged in the middle of his property,
ready to serve his customers, and invites the attention of the
passers-by by loud explanations of the goodness and cheapness of his
wares. All sorts of people are coming and going, for a Theban crowd
holds representatives of nearly every nation known. Here are the
townsfolk, men and women, out to buy supplies for their houses, or to
exchange the news of the day; peasants from the villages round about,
bringing in vegetables and cattle to barter for the goods which can only
be got in the town; fine ladies and gentlemen, dressed elaborately in
the latest Court fashion, with carefully curled wigs, long pleated robes
of fine transparent linen, and dainty, brightly-coloured sandals turned
up at the toes. At one moment you rub shoulders with a Hittite from
Kadesh, a conspicuous figure, with his high-peaked cap, pale complexion,
and heavy, pointed boots. He looks round him curiously, as if thinking
that Thebes would be a splendid town to plunder. Then a priest of high
rank goes by, with shaven head, a panther skin slung across his shoulder
over his white robe, and a roll of papyrus in his hand. A Sardinian of
the bodyguard swaggers along behind him, the ball and horns on his
helmet flashing in the sunlight, his big sword swinging in its sheath as
he walks; and a Libyan bowman, with two bright feathers in his leather
skull-cap, looks disdainfully at him as he shoulders his way through the
crowd.

All around us people are buying and selling. Money, as we know it, has
not yet been invented, and nearly all the trade is done by means of
exchange. When it comes to be a question of how many fish have to be
given for a bed, or whether a load of onions is good value for a chair,
you can imagine that there has to be a good deal of argument. Besides,
the Egyptian dearly loves bargaining for the mere excitement of the
thing, and so the clatter of tongue