d gardens to the river.

The Furrah Rood is broader and swifter here than the Harood, and when at
sunset we reach the ferry, it is to find that the boat is on the other
side and the ferrymen gone to their homes for the night. Several hundred
yards back from the river the city of Furrah reveals itself in the shape
of a sombre-looking high mud wall, forming a solid parallelogram, I
should judge a third of a mile long and of slightly less width. The walls
are crenellated, and strengthened by numerous buttresses. It occupies
slightly rising ground, and nothing is visible from without but the
walls. The old guide shouts lustily at a couple of men visible on the
opposite bank; but he only gets shouted back at for his pains.

Darkness is rapidly settling down upon us, and I begin to realize my
mistake in not abiding by the guide's judgment and stopping at the
village. Another village is seen a couple of miles across the reedy
lowland to our rear, and thitherward we shape our course. The intervening
space is found to consist largely of tall reeds, swampy or overflowed
areas, and irrigating ditches. Many of the latter are too deep to ford,
and darkness overtakes us long before the village is reached. Finding it
impossible to do anything with the bicycle, I remove my packages and lay
the naked wheel on top of a conspicuous place on the bank of a ditch,
where it may be readily found in the morning.

For some reason unintelligible to me accommodation is refused us at the
village. The old guide addresses the people in tones loud and
authoritative, but all to no purpose--they refuse to let us remain. While
hesitating about what course to pursue, one of the men comes out and
volunteers to guide us to a camp of nomads not far away. Following his
guidance, a camp of a dozen tents is shortly reached, and in their
hospitable midst we spend the night on a piece of carpet beneath the sky.
The usual simple refreshments are provided, as also quilts for covering.
Upon waking in the morning I am surprised to find the bicycle lying close
to my head. The hospitable nomads, having heard the story of its
abandonment from the guide, have been out in the night and found it and
brought it in.

The same friendly person who brought us to the camp turns up at daybreak
and voluntarily guides us through the area of ditches and impenetrable
reed-patches to the river. Several people are squatting on the bank
watching a crew of half-naked men tugging a rud