y we walked down
to watch the people from the other side come across, on their way into
the sok, laden with country produce. Years ago a bridge had been built
over the Wad-el-Martine, but, like other Moorish architecture, it was not
built to last, and the immense floods which swing down the Wad-el-Martine
in winter-time soon left only a broken pier or two, to point out that a
bridge had been thought of. The money to build it was supplied by
Government: half of it went into the pocket of the builder; a little
went towards the bridge, which naturally could only be built of rubbish,
without proper foundations. Now that there is no bridge, it is once more,
as it had been for ages upon ages, a case of ferrying across by the big
ferry-boat, or of fording. Since ferrying means money, and fording only a
wetting, most of the market-goers ford.

It was a sight to see the countrywomen wading through, one after another
like a string of ducks, trying to keep dry: the water came just about up
to their bodies, and the white haik and piece of towelling for a skirt
could be bundled up somehow--a very few wore short white cotton drawers.
Their legs were remarkable for an enormous development of muscle in
unusual places. Once across, they wrung out anything which had been
wetted, shivering somewhat; then arranged their voluminous haiks afresh
over the mysterious great bundles on their backs, and, padding off in
single file, made for the city. What those bundles, which bent their
backs half double, had inside them it was impossible to certify: often
part of it was a baby, judging by a round shape like a head under the
haik, and the fact that, when it had a knock, there was a cry: the rest
might be chickens, oranges, vegetables, baskets of eggs, baskets of
coos-coosoo, heads of brooms made of bamboo, honey, and so on. Some of
the chickens dangled in front of the women by strings tied to their
waists: the chickens were alive, of course.

[Illustration: A FERRY-BOAT ON MARKET DAY.

[_To face p. 184._]

On the tops of their heads the women wore enormous straw hats, with brims
large enough to act as umbrellas and to keep the rain off their
shoulders. The ferry-boat, packed with them _and_ these straw hats, was
worth seeing, like a grand-stand in a shower hidden by umbrellas. The
weights which the women carry for hours at a time are almost incredible;
but they begin as tiny girls, lopping along after their mothers at a
half-run under tiny bu