The Jackies from the fleet ... had the bazaar in Cairo in an uproar.—[Page 250.]
In and out among the joyous tars darted beggars of all hues, black, yellow and white. Nubians, Arabs, Hindoos, even Chinamen were in the throng, and they all rattled and banged on brass dishes yelling for alms. Through the street occasionally an auto would come whirring along, carrying perhaps a veiled woman or a swarthy Egyptian, or now and then a British officer in full rig.
At such times the flying squadron of donkeys scattered in every direction amidst the whoops and yells of their excited riders.
From the gutters mongrel curs snapped at the boys’ heels, and the uproar, din and sun were enough to upset the strongest nerves.
“These people must all be crazy,” exclaimed Herc to Ned as they maneuvered their donkeys in and out among the throng with more skill than most of the sailors showed. The boys had been brought up on a farm and knew something of riding.
“No, sir; that is, they’re only crazy for one thing, and that is money.”
“Hookey! You’re right there. Beggars and sand are about all I’ve seen in Egypt so far. I wonder the beggars haven’t bankrupted the rest of the populace.”
“Backsheesh! Backsheesh!” wailed a filthy negro, getting in front of them.
“Yes, yes, that’s what you are,” Herc assured him, “a black sheep, all right enough.”
“Tell you what, boys,” cried somebody, “let’s have a parade!”