ess than nothing! Here they sleep,
silent owners of their silent city in the desert, till the last great
trumpet shall sound, and the mighty dead shall (with their humbler
fellow-men) be judged according to their works. Thanks be to God who
giveth his people the victory in that day, through Jesus Christ our
Lord.

In silence we passed on from one tomb, one mosque, to another.

"Where are we going now?" Hugh asked, after we had ridden on for some
time.

"To the petrified forest."

"Shall we find the trees standing, all turned into stone? For petrified
means turned into stone, does it not?" said Lucy.

"Yes, it does. But I do not think we shall find any trees standing, from
what I have read about the 'petrified wood.'"

True enough. When we reached the petrified forest in the Valley of
Wanderings (this valley forms the beginning of the desert leading to the
Red Sea) we did not see a single tree, but the sand was for miles
covered with fragments of wood. Though these were turned into stone, we
could see knots and fibres, and even the rough bark, which showed them
to be fragments of trees.

"Is it not wonderful!" exclaimed Hugh.

It was indeed wonderful. And now we came to what looked like the trunk
of a large tree; there was another like it, at a little distance; they
must have been quite fifty feet long, or more; they lay in the sand, and
seemed to have broken as they fell, for there were small pieces
scattered about all around.

"What made it?" Lucy asked.

None of us could tell; nor have we since been able to find any account
of how these trees were turned into stone. But it seems certain that all
this part of the desert, on which there is not now a blade of grass,
must have been covered by a wood.

We could but look and wonder. "How unsearchable are the judgments of
God, and his ways past finding out!"

We all picked up some pieces to bring away with us. Then we sat down on
one of the large petrified trunks and ate our lunch, the wonders all
round us giving us plenty to talk about the while.

On our way home we came round by another group of tombs beneath the
mountains of Mokattam. We had had a long day, and it was nearly sunset
when we left the tombs.

The sunset clouds were gorgeous. All at once, as the sun sank beneath
them, the deep-toned sound of the muezzin called the faithful followers
of the prophet Mohammed to prayer. Every one around us prostrated
themselves. Our hearts obeyed the call; we