They left Boulak one pleasant afternoon a few minutes past three o'clock, and steamed slowly up the river. The boys sat beneath the awning that covered the deck and watched the gray walls of Cairo, the palaces and hovels, the gardens of the island of Rhoda, and the green fields that stretched out from the western bank till they met the glistening sands of the desert near the platform where the Pyramids of Gizeh rise toward the sky. On the other side of the river the Mokattam hills bounded the horizon, and marked the beginning of the Libyan Desert; the tufted palm-trees waved here and there, sometimes in clusters or groups, and at others standing solitary in the surrounding waste. On the land there were trains of stately camels, and on the water the boats of the natives ploughed slowly along, many of them laden till their gunwales were dangerously near the water. As the boat steamed onward, the Citadel of Cairo, with the slender minarets of the Mosque of Mohammed Ali, faded away in the distance, the broad valley became more and more enclosed, the hills seemed to shut in upon the river, and when the sun went down the great pyramids were little more than specks on the horizon, and just visible through the palm-trees.
Having seen the Doctor and his young friends well under-way toward the South, we will rely for a while on the journal which was kept by Frank and Fred. After recording their departure from Cairo, and briefly describing the scenes on the river, the journal says:
A VILLAGE ON THE BANK OF THE RIVER.
"We were told that the steamers did not run at night on account of the liability to get on sand-bars, and the possibility of collisions with sailing boats. True to the promise, the boat came to anchor soon after sunset; or, rather, it was brought to the bank and made fast. We were just below a small village, and wanted to go to see it, but the guide said it was unsafe to venture there after dark, on account of the number of dogs prowling about. Egyptian dogs have a great antipathy to foreigners, as we have already learned, and are not to be carelessly approached.
"The Orientals regard the dog as an unclean beast, and do not keep him for a pet, as is the custom of Europe and America. Consequently, nearly all the dogs you see around an Eastern city are houseless and homeless, and a very ordinary set of curs they are. There are great numbers of them, and they manage to pick up a living by serving as scavengers, and by stealing whenever they have a chance. They do not disturb the natives, but have such a hatred for strangers that they are often dangerous; they have no terror for sticks and whips, and the only way to drive them is by pelting them with stones. In the daytime they rarely do more than bark and growl; but at night they are bolder, and as they can sneak up to you under cover of the darkness, you must look out for their teeth.
GENERAL VIEW OF AN EASTERN CITY.