Stretches of yellow sand reached away and on to the foot of the Arabian mountains in the far distance. Along the track the train passed processions of dusty travelers, gorgeously arrayed with brilliantly colored mantles thrown over their heads.
"Look! Look, there's a circus going by!" yelled Hickey.
"Where, where?" Jackies rushed to his side of the car and leaned far out.
"It's a caravan. What's the matter with you, red-head?"
A long line of camels was dragging itself along the highway, each camel holding the bobbing figure of a native, while on foot at the rear strung a long procession of other natives. It was a most picturesque sight. It was the first time the Battleship Boys had seen camels on their native soil, and the boys leaned from the windows, watching the unusual sight until the caravan was lost in the distance.
Villages of yellow mud huts, their flat roofs covered with thatch, the buildings surrounded by a drove of Arab goats, chickens, pigs, camels and donkeys, were frequently passed, the sight causing the jackies keen amusement.
Everything was quaint and unusual; the lurching camels, the Arabs with their long guns and queer costumes, all combined to make the journey one long to be remembered.
"Cairo! All out for Cairo!" sang the voice of the petty officer in charge of the party.
"Cairo! Cairo!" howled the jackies.
"Remember, boys, you are in a city now—not out on the desert."