Tom pointed out this buoy to his father. "What a queer place for a buoy, father!"
"Not at all. It is put there to mark the middle of the river channel. But I see what you mean. You don't realize that is the mouth of a river. Water, water everywhere, and no land in view, eh? Nevertheless this is the Shat-el-Arab River, which we now propose to ascend. Here comes the pilot."
Do you remember, Young People, that the Shat-el-Arab is at the head of the Persian Gulf? Tom realized this distinctly, as they had been steaming up this Gulf for the past week. But could that be indeed a river-mouth?
It was not until they were under way, and had been running along for an hour, that the river narrowed sufficiently for its banks to become visible. At this point it might fairly be termed a magnificent river, with a depth of from thirty to forty feet, whereas at its bar, off which they had first anchored, there was but eleven or twelve feet of water. Yes, a splendid river all the way along its splendid course of a hundred and fifty miles, to the place where the Euphrates and Tigris mingle their floods with its own.
But Tom's ship stops short of this point, at Bassorah, with which city Tom had most vivid associations, for was it not from here that Sindbad the Sailor had set forth on his wonderful voyages?
It was late in the afternoon when they neared the shore, but not too late to distinctly note the character of the place. It was very much better built, and with more of an air of civilization about it, than other Eastern towns Tom had seen lately. The buildings were, some of them, of brick, with glass windows facing the outer world. In short, Bassorah gave evidence on its face of being a prosperous city.
"It is a great grain dépôt," one of the officers said to another. "Those high buildings are grain warehouses."
"Yes, and they are almost always well stocked with grain," Captain Fairweather remarked. "A perpetual contest is going on between the grain merchants and the rats in consequence. The warehouses are in a constant state of siege by the rats trying to get in. Every now and then the rats win the day. They undermine the foundations, and over goes a warehouse."
"How I wish they'd do it while we are here!" cried Tom, fervently.
"Perhaps they may," returned Tom's especial Lieutenant, in an encouraging tone.