ng a cursory glance at the contents, he gives a sweep of his chin
toward the bicycle, and says, "Sowar shuk; tomasha." Pointing out the
utter impossibility of complying with his request in a badly-paved
compound packed to its utmost capacity with people; he looks wearily at
the ragged and unruly multitude before him, as though conscious that it
would be useless to try and do anything with them, and then giving some
order to an officer resumes his official labors.

The officer summons a couple of farrashes, and with long willow switches
they flog their way through the crowd, opening a narrow, but instantly
filled again, passage for me to follow. Outside the compound the officer
practically forsakes me and goes over body and soul to the enemy. Filled
with the same dense ignorance and overwhelming desire to see the bicycle
ridden, he desires also to gain the approbation of the crowd, and so
brings all his powers of persuasion to bear against me. Time and again,
while traversing with the greatest difficulty the narrow bazaar in the
midst of a surging mob, he faces about and makes the same insane request,
shouting like a maniac to make his voice audible above the din of a
thousand clamorous appeals to the same purpose. Had I the power to
annihilate the whole crazy, maddening multitude with a sweep of the hand,
I am afraid they would at this juncture have received but small mercy.

The caravanserai is a big, commodious affair, a quadrangular structure of
brick surrounding fully an acre of ground, and with a small open space
outside. There is plenty of room to satisfy their insane curiosity here
without jeopardizing my own neck, and in a fruitless effort to gratify
them I essay to ride. My appearance in the saddle is greeted with wild
shouts of exultation, and in their eagerness to come closer and see
exactly how the bicycle is propelled and prevented from falling over,
they close up in front as well as behind, compelling an instant dismount
to prevent disagreeable consequences to myself. Howls of disapproval
greet this misinterpreted action, and the officer and farrashes commence
flogging right and left to clear a space for another trial.

This time, while circling about in the small amphitheatre, walled around
by shouting, grinning human beings, wanton youngsters from the rear shy
several stones, and the officer comes near giving me a header by
accidentally inserting his willow staff in the front wheel while pointing
out to