s. You must not think
of this desert as a sea of sand, but as an interminable green plain
with only occasional, very slight undulations. The Arabs call it
_Bahr,_ the sea, and the caravans proceed in an absolutely straight
line, taking their direction from artificial mounts which rise above
the plain like prehistoric graves. They indicate that once upon a time
a village existed here, and that, therefore, a well or a spring must
be nearby. But the mounts often are six, ten or even twelve hours
distant the one from the other. The villages have disappeared, the
wells have gone dry, and the rivulets are bitterly salt. A few weeks
later this green plain which now is nourished by copious daily dews
will be a wild waste parched by the sun. The luxuriant growth of grass
which today reaches to our stirrups will be withered and every
water-course run dry. Then it will be necessary to follow the Tigris
in a wide detour, and none but the ships of the desert, the camels,
will be able to traverse this plain, and they only by night.

Our caravan consists of six hundred camels and four hundred mules. The
big bags carried by the former contain almost exclusively palm-nuts
for the dye houses of Aleppo, and cotton. The more valuable part of
the freight, silk from Bagdad and shawls from Persia, pearls from
Bassora, and good silver money which in Constantinople will be
recoined into bad piasters, is small in proportion to the bulk
carried.

The camels go in strings of from ten to twenty, one behind the other.
The owner rides ahead on a small donkey, and although his stirrups are
short his feet almost touch the ground. He is continually shoving his
pointed slippers into the flanks of his poor beast and placidly
smoking his pipe. His servants are on foot. Unless the donkey leads,
the camels refuse to stir. With long thoughtful strides they move
along, reaching the while with their thin restless necks for thistles
or thorns by the roadside. The mules are walking at a brisk pace.
They are decorated with little bells and beautiful halters gaily set
with shells.

When the caravan has come to the place where the night is to be spent,
the _Kjerwan-Bashi_ canters ahead and designates the exact spot for
the camp. The beasts of burden are unloaded as they arrive, and the
huge bags are placed together as a kind of fortification in the shape
of a quadrangle, within which each one prepares himself a place of
rest. Our tent, which was the only one in