The apartments of an Arab house of the well-to-do are decorated with Arabesque lattices, instead of glass windows. Inside are luxurious divans heaped with soft cushions, instead of sofas and chairs; and instead of the rattling of cabs, carts, and tramcars we hear the wild, shrill, trilling note of the Arabian women indicating some occasion of joy or sorrow, or hear the equally peculiar long drawn-out note of the muezzin from some minaret calling the faithful to prayer.
Very near to our hotel, on the opposite side, are always to be found a number of donkeys ready for hire, and very good little donkeys they are. I can see the head, legs, and tail of a donkey; the remaining portion of him is almost concealed by a great padded saddle, to which is attached a very inconvenient pair of stirrups, into which you _may_ get the tips of your toes, and sometimes a portion of the foot, but if the foot is not small, or is so unfortunate as to possess a respectably-sized bunion, you must be content if you can get the tips of your toes only in the stirrup; this, again, slips down to the right or left, according as you put more pressure on one side or the other. There are no girths, but one long strap placed around the saddle and donkey very insecurely fixes the former. If my reader has not been accustomed to circus-riding, I assure him he would experience some difficulty at first in exhibiting his powers of equitation before the Egyptian public under these circumstances, and I have seen more than one individual come into ignominious contact with mother earth; fortunately he has not far to go ere he humbles and tumbles himself in the dust.
My first experience was this: as soon as I was seated and had rammed the tip of my boot into the stirrup, the donkey-boy shouts, “Ha—ha.” This warning note the donkey knows full well, and off he goes at a kind of running trot, which is all right. Soon these ha-ha’s increase in frequency, and ere long I can fancy myself a second Mezeppa. The imp behind now accompanies his peculiar yell with a sharp prog of a pointed stick, and the donkey takes a very pointed cognisance of it, for now “He urges on his wild career.” In the wide, open streets this rapid mode of progression has an exhilarating tendency, but in the narrow streets of the bazaars unguarded human beings fly to the right of me, unguarded human beings fly to the left of me, and imprecations, not loud, but deep, in an unknown tongue, fall on my untutored ear as my donkey indiscriminately cannons on to the unobservant. A few words about these donkeys, and donkey-boys so called. Most of the latter are not boys at all, but full-grown men, notwithstanding which they are always called donkey-boys. These and their donkeys are quite an institution in the East. The donkeys own all kinds of popular English names, and of course (if the owner may be believed) are possessed of every good quality. Most of the donkey-boys have picked up more or less English, and in expatiating on the good qualities of their beasts are accustomed to interlard their speech with the strong language of the West, and you would be surprised to hear how promptly they will consign a fellow donkey-boy to an inhospitable and much-warmer region than Cairo, and to the care of a much blacker individual than themselves. The reader is here called upon to exercise his or her imagination. I had myself derived considerable amusement when watching an intending pilgrim securing one of these donkeys. To be forewarned is to be forearmed; I flattered myself that by making my selection sure before I got amongst them, my tactics would be most successful, but as the sequel will show, I was grossly deceived, having reckoned without my host, or hosts I ought to say. First intending pilgrim. He descends the steps of Shepheard’s Hotel, and moves towards the donkeys—a fatal movement. Instantly the air is thick with donkeys and donkey-boys. The latter yell frantically a chorus of praises concerning the useful quadrupeds, which are most adroitly and with surprising dexterity brought one after the other under his very nose, whilst the poor victim is jostled about in the most bewildering and unpleasant manner. I have been both a spectator of and an actor in this performance, and I can safely say the spectator derives by far the greatest amusement.