ere a few odd details
travelling as well and the crowding was considerable. On each side of
the steamer were big barges. On the port side was a barge of mules. On
the starboard side a barge of fodder, and various bales and cases,
surmounted by a crowd of coolies. The smell from either side was like a
Zoo. We set off in high spirits, for we had heard that Amara, whither we
were bound, was a Paradise compared to Basra. The heat was excessive.
Behind the funnel on deck, where our quarters lay, it was 125 degrees,
and the awning did not do much towards keeping out the burden of the
sun. The country through which we passed was green-tinged with sparse
palms, and absolutely flat. In the river were long strings of
_mahallas_, being towed by teams of Arabs. These craft may take sixteen
days to reach Amara. In the heat of the day the towing team gets into
the river and moves slowly along up to their waists in water. Owing to a
long stop at Margil, which lies two miles above Basra, and is the site
of the Supply people, we did not make much progress the first day. At
sunset it is necessary to tie up, or anchor, in the stream. The night
was not so bad save for mosquitoes, and after a sousing of river water,
drawn forward of the mule barge, and a cup of tea at dawn, we felt
cheerful. We started at four-thirty and passed Kurna.

Kurna is the Garden of Eden. It lies at the junction of the Euphrates
and Tigris, and is a small hamlet of white houses. Here there is a wide
area of date palms and a great brown, tranquil stretch of river. A white
doorway in a yellow wall, shaped like a pear, marks the supposed
position of Paradise. The doorway bears a tablet with an Arabic
inscription. Behind the doorway, just visible over the wall, a tree
grows. This may or may not be the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and
Evil, because a dwarfed sinister tree lower down, to which barges tie
up, is given the name. But I prefer the one in its walled garden, a
faded, simple, harmless-looking tree. And the result of eating its fruit
can be moralised on here, for on one side of it is the bazaar square,
where whisky and beer and tobacco are sold, and on the other side is the
telegraph office with the news of the war blazoned on the iron-studded
door and an armed sentry before it.

Beyond Kurna the Tigris takes some immense curves so that at times you
seem to see the sails of _mahallas_ all round the horizon. We lay on
deck, staring idly at the unvarying landsca