"There is Mustapha, the dragoman," whispered Nabul to his friend, pointing to the group; "he too has on his beautiful new clothes."
"Yes, and see how those other fellows stick close to him, like flies around a honey jar," answered Abdal.
"Aha! they well know that Mustapha is the most popular dragoman in Cairo, and they hope that he will hire their donkeys," answered Nabul.
Our two little friends now slipped off their donkeys and ran up to the big dragoman, crying, "We are here, oh, Mustapha! send away these others."
This made the other boys clamour all the louder. Meanwhile Mustapha paid not the slightest attention to any of them, but went on puffing away at his cigarette, for Egyptians have the bad habit of smoking one of these nasty little cigarettes at nearly all times.
Mustapha did indeed look gorgeous. He had on a bright green silk garment and over this a pale yellow silk gown; a rich red sash was wound round his waist many times and around his head was rolled the folds of a great silken turban of white and gold.
"Thou will want us, oh, Mustapha?" questioned Nabul at last in a whisper, giving Mustapha's sleeve a tug to remind the great man that they were still there.
"Who can tell? Allah alone knows the mind of these strangers," answered the dragoman, finally. "It may be that they will even want to ride in one of those evil-smelling flying carriages," he continued, throwing a scornful glance at a big automobile that just at that moment came to a halt beside them, one of the few to be seen in Egypt.
It is true that there are even automobiles in Egypt, and every dragoman and donkey boy is very jealous of them, for they are afraid that if there are too many automobiles, people will not ride on their camels and donkeys.
"Who would not rather ride on a beautiful donkey like mine than in one of those noisy, smelly things?" said Abdal, patting his little donkey's head.