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To the Reader 7
rise in triple tiers on both sides of the road, each tier pro-
iectin- over the tier below, till the sky threatens to vanish.
The Gamaliya has ancient overhanging timber porches
which would grace a Japanese temple. The Sukkanya and
the streets which continue it are as fantastic as a willow-
pattern plate, with their arcaded fountains and Koran schools
of bygone centuries. The Bab-es-Zuweyla, crowned with
flamboyant minarets, hung with the weapons of still credited
giants, fluttering with the offerings of the Faithful, hardly ever
tvithout a ragged water-seller at its threshold and a fikee
recitin- the Koran in its dark recesses, is meduxval enough
for a background for Saladin prancing out with his emirs to
do battle with the Crusaders.
^
But this is only the half ; for though there is no longer the
pomp of princes and nobles in the splendour of Oriental
luxury or barbaric mail, the great religious pageants like the
celebration of the Birthday of the Prophet and the Procession
of the Holy Carpet to Mecca, are celebrated with much ot
their ancient grandeur, and the life of the poor in the
unspoiled parts of the native city is hardly changed from
the days of the Caliphs, except for the intrusion of the
gifts of science and of the protecting arm of the beneficent
Power, which decrees that none shall suffer violence to his
person or his goods save in the execution o righteous y
administered laws. Half a mile of streets is still festooned
with red and white pennons and lanterns to welcome a
piWrim from Mecca or a marriage cortege, each heralded by
bands of barbaric music, camels in scarlet caparisons, palan-
quins of ivory and silver, and a troop of friends riding on fine
white asses. u ^
As you are watching the coppersmith holding a beaten
vessel with his toes while he chases the brim, or a silk-weaver
buried to his middle, you may hear those barbaric hautboys
and drums. But more often you will hear a chanting so
mournful and dignified that its memory will stay in your ears
for ever ; and soon, borne on the shoulders of friends, foreshadowed
by banners, a high-horned coffin strewn with a noble
shawl crosses your vision to the last rest in the Eastern desert.