"Thou wilt have to fight, then, with the donkey boys at the Pyramids; they will call thee a meddler, and perhaps beat thee," called out Mustapha ungraciously as the little procession started on again.
"Pouf," said Nabul, "they are only Bedouins." The little boys who live in Cairo have a great contempt for the Bedouins, the people who live in the desert.
"Why should they object to our riding your donkeys?" asked George, full of curiosity.
Nabul explained in his broken English that there was a tribe of Bedouins who lived near the Pyramids, who thought that they only had the right to act as guides to the visitors who come to see these great monuments. This was because the men of their tribe had been doing this for years and years; and it was thus that they resented any one coming in and interfering with their ancient privileges.
"I call that real selfish, don't you, Uncle Ben?" exclaimed George.
"But they shall not fight me and Abdal, we are your donkey boys; you ride our donkeys in the great city, and you shall ride our donkeys at the Pyramids; it is the same thing; they shall not run us away," said little Nabul stoutly.
"We won't let them," declared George, and he doubled up his fists, "we'll fight first."
"Behold the great Pyramids!" called out Mustapha, pointing between the trees. Sure enough, there stood the three Pyramids, that every child knows so well from the pictures, rising one behind the other.
"They look very small," said George disappointedly.