"That reminds me," said another, "of a picture I want to show you. On the landing at Esneh up the Nile we thought that our clothes would be torn to pieces by the natives, but not through ill-will. The donkey boys were so eager to secure our custom that a struggle ensued in which donkey boys, donkeys, and tourists were inextricably mixed until the dragoman used his whip. My brother took a snap-shot of the scene just as Achmet raised his whip."
Some of the tourists had stayed ten days in Jerusalem, some twelve days in Cairo, others had been at Philæ and the Cataract of the Nile. Each one was enthusiastic over his trip and appeared to be satisfied with the way in which the eighteen days in Palestine and Egypt had been spent.
Monday dawned cloudy with some wind and rain, and although the weather was not stormy, the boat had that uneasy motion which had been felt once before on the Mediterranean. Many of the tourists, believing prevention better than cure, remained in their staterooms, or, snugly wrapped, reclined in their steamer chairs on deck and had luncheon served to them there, fewer than half the seats at the dining table being occupied.
On Tuesday, however, the sea was as smooth as a river. The "Captain's Dinner," which had been postponed from the previous day on account of the weather, was announced for the evening, and the dining room was handsomely decorated with flags, garlands of artificial roses, and additional lights for the special occasion. The depression of Monday was forgotten and the tourists were in a happy humor.
FILLED VIALS WITH WATER FROM THE DEAD SEA.
At the dinner the Captain made a neat speech referring to the pleasant relations during the voyage and the separation which was shortly to take place. The judge, in behalf of the passengers, responded in a jovial vein. "Three cheers for the Captain" were given with enthusiasm, followed by "He's a jolly good fellow," heartily sung. Every one arose as the orchestra played "America," and later, when the stars and stripes were dropped from overhead, all rose again to accompany the orchestra in the "Star Spangled Banner." Then the electric lights were turned out and while we sat in darkness, the stewards and waiters, dressed in fantastic costumes of various nations, entered and in a long procession marched around the room, each waiter carrying aloft an illuminated tower of ice-cream, and each steward a dish of bonbons. When the bonbons, containing whistles and fancy caps, were opened, the dignity of judge, professor, and minister was laid aside and the tourists were a joyous, noisy crowd of children.
While we were at dinner the promenade deck was cleared of chairs, decorated with flags, and illuminated with Chinese lanterns in preparation for a masked ball which was to be the crowning and closing event of the day. In this fancy-dress carnival many of the passengers appeared dressed in fantastic gowns prepared during the day, or as Orientals in costumes that had been purchased in Eastern cities.
While the maskers and onlookers were enjoying the music and sport, the Moltke was steaming northward through the Strait of Messina. On the right shone the lighthouses of Italy and the lights of the Italian town of Reggio; on the left gleamed the flash-lights of Sicily and long rows of twinkles revealed the location of the large city of Messina.
On rising Wednesday morning we found the sea perfectly smooth with scarcely a ripple to disturb its blue surface. The Moltke was speeding through the waters with an almost imperceptible motion. On our left was the island of Capri, famous for its blue grotto, and the morning sunlight playing on its rugged shores, revealed a white road cut in the rocky cliffs, zigzagging up the side of the hill from the village at the base to the village on the summit. As the steamer coasted the Italian shore, we saw dimly through the mist the bay and town of Salerno, then picturesque Sorrento perched among the rocks, and, in the distance, fog-crowned Mount Vesuvius with a thin column of smoke ascending from the crater, and many towns and villages at its base. Directly ahead of us were the bay of Naples and the city, partially hidden from our sight by a fog. Just before reaching the quarantine station a small steamer crowded with passengers emerged from the fog and crossed the course of the Moltke, narrowly escaping destruction.