While I was in Egypt a few things struck me with particular force: one was the inefficiency of the Police of Alexandria; another the appalling callousness of the average Egyptian in his treatment of animals.

It was an amusing sight in Alexandria to watch the police trying to regulate the traffic. The drivers would take absolutely no notice of the policeman's raised hand, and would dash recklessly over the crossing, quite regardless of what might be coming down the cross street. After being flouted in this way, the policeman would leave his beat, run after the driver and, on catching him up, engage in a wordy warfare for five minutes. The same performance would be repeated over and over again as each successive Jehu came furiously along at his best pace.

I also had some experience of the lax methods prevailing in the Passport Department—a most important office in war-time, especially in a country like Egypt, which was simply teeming with spies.

A couple of my men who had been sent from Gallipoli to the Base Hospital at Alexandria, owing to wounds or illness, wished to resign from the Corps and go to America, as they had no desire to return to the Dardanelles. I, of course, could not grant their request, so by some means or other (bribery, no doubt) they obtained a false passport, got on board ship and gave instructions to some friends of theirs to inform me, three days after they had left, that they were on their way to America and hoped I did not mind! To make sure that these rascals were not merely hiding in Alexandria, I carefully investigated the matter and found that one, at all events, had really sailed.

I have referred to the cruelty which the average Egyptian shows in his treatment of animals. To give one glaring example: there is a steep incline over the railway bridge near Gibbari, a suburb of Alexandria. Over this bridge, the slopes of which are paved with smooth stones, rolls a great part of the immense traffic which goes to and from the docks. Almost at any hour of the day one may see half-a-dozen wretched horses hauling overladen carts up this slippery slope, being unmercifully beaten by their drivers, and falling sometimes two or three times before they reach the summit. I say, without hesitation, that such a scandal is a blot on Alexandria, a blot on the police officials, who wink at it, and a blot on the British rulers in Egypt who tolerate such a state of affairs. A couple of thousand pounds should be set aside at once to remedy the grievous sufferings which are daily and hourly inflicted there on our unfortunate dumb friends.

I was told that a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals flourishes in the country. If a member of it ever goes up and down the Gibbari Bridge, he must surely turn a blind eye on the cruel sights which are to be seen there almost at any time, otherwise he must be shamed forever. This recalls to my mind a story which Gye once told me about a leading light of this Society who was on a visit to Egypt. He made a tour of the Provinces, and at each place he visited he was delighted to find that the officials were most zealous supporters of the Society. As a proof of their keenness for the League, they would conduct him to the public pound and show him numbers of maimed camels, horses and donkeys which they assured him was the day's catch. Of course it was all eyewash, as the wily officials had got news of the coming of the great one, and told the police to lock up the wretched animals for just as long as he was in the place and no longer.

While the Arabs show appalling callousness to the sufferings of animals, they often exhibit intense kindness and affection for each other; more especially does the Arab mother show great love for her child. A pretty story has come down to us illustrating this maternal solicitude. An Arab youth married a maiden whom he came to love passionately, but he had great love for his mother too, and of this the wife was intensely jealous, so much so, that she told him one day that she could never love him fully while his mother lived, and that the only way for him to secure her affections was to kill his mother and bring her heart as a peace-offering. The wretched youth, blinded by passion, committed this terrible crime, and, concealing his mother's heart within his gown, he ran swiftly to present it to his wife. On the way he tripped and fell heavily, and, in doing so, the heart fell to the ground. On picking it up to replace it, the heart said to him, "My poor boy, I hope you did not hurt yourself when you fell."

I related this story to a friend in London, and he said: "Now I will tell you a story of filial piety on the part of an English boy. He possessed a dog of which he was passionately fond, named Paddy. One day a cart ran over Paddy in the street, and he was picked up dead. The boy's mother broke the dreadful news to her little son while he was having dinner, saying how sorry she was to have to tell him that poor Paddy was killed. The boy was not very much concerned, and went on eating his pudding. Later on, however, in the nursery his Nana condoled with him on the loss of his pet, whereupon he raised a tremendous outcry, sobbing and weeping bitterly. His mother rushed up to see what was the matter, and on finding he was weeping for the dog, said, 'But, darling, I told you at dinner-time that Paddy was killed, and you didn't seem to mind much.'

"'Oh, mammy,' he sobbed, 'I thought you said Daddy—not Paddy.'"

Thinking this would be a good story to tell a little boy that I know very well, I related it to him, but as he took it very gravely, I asked him whether he saw the joke, and he said, "No." Now he possessed a black kitten, named "Mike," for which he had a great affection, so I thought I could illustrate my story by saying: "Well, now tell me which would you rather see run over and killed—Mike or Daddy?"

Having given long and serious consideration to this problem, and with a troubled look on his little face, he, after a great inward struggle, at last said: "I think Mike."

During the time I was in Alexandria an attempt was made there on the life of the Sultan of Egypt, not the first attempt, by any means. Now the Sultan is a kindly, good-natured ruler, having the welfare of Egypt and the Egyptians thoroughly at heart; there is nothing whatever of the tyrant about him, and therefore there is no excuse for attempting his life. I happen to know that the Sultan was not at all anxious to accept the dignity which was thrust upon him, but since he has fallen in with the policy of England, it is the duty of England to protect him and uphold him by every means in her power. Let it be known that in case of any further attempt stern measures will be taken, not only on the perpetrator of the crime, or the attempted crime, but on the family and relatives of the criminal, and also on the leading members of any political society to which he belonged—because, of course, they are all in league with each other and know perfectly well what is going on—and if they knew that they would be punished as well as the criminal they would take good care either to dissuade him from the crime or give timely warning to the authorities. If they fail to do this, their property should be confiscated to the State, and if the crime were perpetrated from a hired house, then the owner of the house, who had let it, should be severely punished, because in Egypt the only policy that is understood by the criminal agitator is two eyes for one eye, and a whole row of teeth for one tooth; and the sooner our pusillanimous politicians realise this the better it will be for Egypt, the Egyptians, and the continuance of our rule there. As ex-President Roosevelt said in his vigorous and memorable speech at the Guildhall, we should either "govern Egypt or get out." It is impossible to govern such a country on the milk-and-water policy so loved by invertebrate politicians.

I was privileged, while at Alexandria, to meet on many occasions Prince Fuad, the brother of the Sultan, and it was at one of his many interesting and hospitable receptions, for which he is famous, that I had the opportunity of being presented to His Highness the Sultan. When, however, I looked through the windows of the room where the Sultan was receiving, I saw that he did not appear to be very well (it was soon after the attempt had been made on his life), and there was such a throng waiting to be presented that I determined that I, at least, would save him the fatigue of a handshake. There were compensations for my solicitude for the Sultan, because at that very moment I was talking to a most charming and interesting lady, whose people had hailed from the famous city of the Caliphs, Baghdad, and although her ancestors came from that dusky neighbourhood, she herself was fair as a lily, had gloriously red hair, and was withal as entertaining as Scheherazade. At this same entertainment I saw standing before my eyes and talking to the Sultan a lady whom I took to be Cleopatra herself returned to life. I was amazed to see some one really alive so like the picture of the famous Queen of Egypt, and yet there she was within a few feet of me, carrying on an animated conversation with the Sultan. I came to know "Cleopatra" and her husband very well indeed during my stay in Egypt, and I spent many an enjoyable evening under their hospitable roof. And what a delightful couple they were! I shall never forget a little impromptu concert which took place one night as we sat out under the rustling palms in the soft moonlight. Cleopatra's husband melted all our hearts by singing, in his low, sweet voice, "Un peu d'amour." It prompted me to make the ungallant remark to Cleopatra that I really did not know which of them I liked the better, and ever afterwards she whimsically pretended to be hurt at the lack of discernment which I had shown.

Now, Cleopatra, before I bid you good-bye, I will only say that I am glad you did not live in the days of the Pharaohs, because if you had, I am sure you would have been given to the crocodiles, for you must know that once a year, in those barbarous, far-off times, there was chosen for that sacrifice the most lovely and the most perfect maiden in all Egypt.

It was at some reception or other in Egypt that I met, about this time, an officer who had been on the Staff of the 29th Division in Gallipoli. Riding about the Peninsula as we both did, we met practically every day during two or three months, and although we rode together and were quite good friends, I never knew what his name was, and I never tried to find out, as I am not of an inquisitive nature. However, one day he disappeared and his place in Gallipoli knew him no more. I thought it was very likely he had been killed, because his duties often took him into perilous places—indeed, any and every place in Gallipoli was perilous in those days. At all events, here I met him safe and sound, on which I heartily congratulated him. A little later he asked to be introduced to a friend of mine who was also at the reception, so I was compelled to confess that I had not the foggiest notion as to his name. "My name is B——," he replied; and on asking him if he was any relation of ——, mentioning a well-known public man in England, with whom a few days before I left home I had been walking up and down Rotten Row, "Oh, yes," said he; "that's my father!"

My Gallipoli friend was, unfortunately, on the Persia when she was sunk without warning in the Mediterranean, and went down with the ship; but his time was not yet, for he luckily came up again, and was numbered with the saved, for which Allah be praised.

I hope the reader will not run away with the idea that I spent my time in Egypt in a round of festivities and riotous living. It was, as a matter of fact, very much the reverse, because even when I went to these receptions I combined business with pleasure by getting the people I met there to help me to get recruits and to interest themselves in the Zion Mule Corps.