which hung from his shoulders.

A few hungry egrets

perched on the walls were wistfully eyeing the offal of slaughtered poultry, with which they meditated to vary their supper of frogs and lizards.

Leaving Temaçin, we wound through the palmgardens on the other side, and a quarter of an hour brought us to Zouïa, where the marabout resided-a man so sublimated in piety that he would do no man good or evil. He was, for the nonce, absent on a pilgrimage to Mecca, but his brother, another marabout, who-fortunately for us--had not yet attained to so high a degree of negative virtue, presided in his absence. Zouïa is almost entirely composed of mosques and maraboutsclean, orderly, neat, and well-built.

We entered by the western gate, where the French

were sinking an artesian well as a gift to the marabout, who had done much for their power in this country. We found a small encampment inside the walls, and a hearty welcome from the solitary lieutenant of spahis and M. Josse, a young civil engineer in charge of the works, of English extraction and education. We breakfasted with them, and the marabout, having heard of our arrival, sent a huge dish of excellent kouskousou as his contribution to our repast, and paid us a visit soon afterwards. He was a venerable middle-aged man, his dark flat face, spare beard, and scant moustache telling of a mixture of negro blood. He pressed his entertainment upon us, but the Frenchmen, with their wonted hospitality, insisted on their prior claim to the guests. Our hungry horses were comfortably stabled under the arches of the city gate, and a military tent was at once erected for ourselves. Our hosts invited us to coffee, and we were glad to pass the evening by their fire, which, after nightfall, was welcome even here.

After spending a quiet and lonely Sunday, we devoted the next day to the exploration of Zouïa. It is square, with towers at each corner and three others projecting from the walls, far more solid than most Arab constructions. Seven or eight white cupolas rise above the flat roofs-one the marabout's house, another his father's tomb, the new and old mosques, &c. His house is really a handsome edifice after the Moorish fashion, in a clean, open street, with the familiar projecting window over a double-arched gateway. The walls are also pierced with other windows framed in fantastically-carved arabesque woodwork, and gaudily painted. These were all sent as presents by the Bey of Tunis to the marabout, whose reputation for sanctity is spread throughout North Africa. His house is not yet

finished, and a range of lime-kilns behind it tells of the advance of European domestic arts to this distant oasis.

But the wonder of Zouïa, the curiosity most triumphantly pointed out to us, is a two-wheel cart, also a gift of the Bey of Tunis, the first ever seen here and very probably the last, transported piecemeal on the backs of camels for 700 miles, and now housed in all but a glass-case.

Behind the house is the tomb of the father of the chief, also a saint of renown, but who, like those of the middle ages, united the two swords, for over his coffin are suspended the banners of forty-two conquered or subject tribes. The French Emperor, not to be outdone by the Tunisian potentate, has sent the pious chieftain a mag

nificent clock covered with arabesque-work in ormolu, and a musical box attached, which is now playing in our hearing "Partant pour la Syrie."

The mosque is very like that of Tuggurt, but better preserved, and a new and grander one is in course of erection. Attracted by the noisy hum of juvenile voices, we ventured to enter the old mosque. On a mat against the wall sat cross-legged a dull-eyed Arab, with a long rib of palm-leaf, heavy and thick, in his hand. Round him, in a double circle on the stones, squatted between thirty and forty young Arabs, ranging from six to ten years of age, all with their burnous-hoods drawn over their heads, and chanting at the top of their voices Arabic prayers, of which each held a copy written with white chalk on a polished board about twice the size of an ordinary school-slate. Meantime, the pedagogue distributed even-handed justice by knocking them promiscuously on the head with his ponderous djereed. This, with exercises in writing, seemed to constitute the whole of their education, and how the urchins could learn to read, save by intuition, appeared a mystery.

The plain outside was covered with the black tents of a dependent tribe, the Weled Sa'ad, who claim a vast extent of territory from the line of the Chaamba to the Djebel Sahari. They mustered about 400 tents and probably 3500 souls, and had come in for dates and winter supplies. Unlike the Chaamba, they are a peaceful set, and possess but few horses, though abounding in curs. The women are unveiled, and not cleaner than others of their race. I observed that these Arabs are very unlike the townsmen in features, being fair and showing no cousinship with the negro.

The French soldier certainly has an eye to embellish

ment.

On our return at nightfall we found our tent and a space round it divided from the other by an extempore hedge of fancy shapes. Our hospitable hosts. had added a new plank to their little table, and treated us to their best; while, night and day, the dozen French soldiers "du génie," a joyous set, were singing, joking, and working. The boring of the well was worked by relays without intermission, and one might fancy oneself sleeping next-door to a colliery engine. Curiously

enough, on giving my card to M. Josse, he exclaimed, "Castle Eden! je dois me rappeler l'endroit," and straightway produced from his desk the card of a gentleman of the same place whom he had met in London, and who had invited him to visit the collieries of the north. Strange coincidence! two cards from the same village in a distant oasis seven days' journey from the last French outpost!

The next morning our incorrigible dragoman appears without baggage or camels, which he declares he cannot procure. We refer him to the marabout, and must encroach for another day on the hospitality of our friends-doubtless to the satisfaction of our horses, who are enjoying rest and liberal rations.

The birds of the marshes attracted me, but in vain I pursued the beautiful white egrets, both great and small, and the purple heron, the fowlingpiece of the spahi lieutenant had within the last month taught them caution. But if nothing was reserved for the scalpel, a few ducks sufficed to conciliate the goodwill of the cook.

At length the camels were procured, and the next morning we proceeded in state to thank the marabout for his hospitable entertainment. He had fed our horses, and added a native dish to

each meal at our