Clarence Duval up in his drum-major suit of scarlet and gold lace, with
a catcher's mask, over his face and a rope fastened around his waist,
and turning him loose among the crowd that surrounded the carriages. To
the minds of the unsophisticated natives the mascot appeared some
gigantic ape that his keeper could with difficulty control, and both men
and women fell over each other in their hurry to get out of his way. It
was after dark when we arrived at Cairo where, as we alighted from the
train, we were beset by an army of Egyptians, and we were obliged to
literally fight our way to the carriages that were in waiting and that
were to take us to the Hotel d'Orient, where rooms had already been
secured for us, and where an excellent dinner was awaiting our arrival.

CHAPTER XXVII. IN THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMIDS.

The Hotel d'Orient, while not as fashionable as Shepard's or the Grand
New, was a most comfortable house and set one of the best tables of the
many that we encountered on the trip. It faced a big circular open space
from which half a score of thoroughfares diverged like the spokes of a
wheel, and was accessible from all parts of the city. In the big public
garden opposite one of the Khedive's bands was playing at the time of
our arrival, and on every hand were to been the open doors of cafes,
bazaars, gambling hells and places of amusement, while the jargon of
many tongues that surrounded us made confusion worse confounded. We were
too tired the first night of our arrival to attempt much in the
sight-seeing line, and contented ourselves, with a quiet stroll about the
streets radiating from the circle, and a peep into some of the bazaars
and gambling houses, gambling, then, as I presume it is at the present
time, being conducted on the wide-open plan, and roulette wheels being
operated within full view of the crowded streets. There is nothing that
is known to any other city in the world that cannot be found in Cairo,
and there are representatives of every nation in the world to be found
among its denizens. Seen in the gloom of the evening, its towers and
minarets showing in the moonlight, its streets pervaded with the dull
red glow of the lights that gleam in the adjacent bazaars and cabarets,
and with its white-walled buildings towering in the darkness, Cairo
looks like a scene from the Arabian Nights, but viewed by daylight the
picture is not so entrancing, for the semi-darkness serves to hide from
the eye