o meet him, and the children from behind
watch with great delight.

Abdel Hassan takes the hand of the sheik, presses it to his lips and
forehead, and says, "Peace be with you."

Do you see how different this is from the hand-shakings and
"How-do-you-do's" of the gentlemen whom we know? Many grand
compliments are offered from one to another, and they are very polite
and respectful. Our manners would seem very poor beside theirs.

Then follows a long talk, and the smoking of pipes, while the servants
make coffee, and serve it in little cups.

Hassein tells Abdel Hassan of the wells of fresh water which he left
but one day's journey behind him, and he tells of the rich cities he
has visited. Abdel Hassan gives him dates and salt in exchange for
cloth for a turban, and a brown cotton dress for his little daughter.

It is not often that one meets men in the desert, and this day will
long be remembered by the children.

The next night, before sunset, they can see the green feathery tops of
the palm-trees before them. The palms have no branches, but only great
clusters of fern-like leaves at the top of the tree, under which grow
the sweet dates.

Near those palm-trees will be Gemila's home for a little while, for
here they will find grass and a spring. The camels smell the water,
and begin to trot fast; the goats leap along over the sand, and the
barefooted men hasten to keep up with them.

In an hour more the tent is pitched under the palm-trees, and all have
refreshed themselves with the cool, clear water.

And now I must tell you that the camels have had nothing to drink
since they left the old home. The camel has a deep bag below his
throat, which he fills with water enough to last four or five days;
so he can travel in the desert as long as that, and sometimes longer,
without drinking again. Yet I believe the camels are as glad as the
children to come to the fresh spring.

Gemila thinks so at night, as she stands under the starlight, patting
her good camel Simel, and kissing his great lips.

The black goats, with long silky ears, are already cropping the grass.
The father sits again at the tent-door, and smokes his long pipe; the
children bury their bare feet in the sand, and heap it into little
mounds about them; while the mother is bringing out the dates and the
bread and butter.

It is an easy thing for them to move: they are already at home again.
But although they have so few cares, we do not wish our