"Now, Mr. Richardson," said Consul Hurner, as in the twilight we stood in his tropical garden, which overlooks the Tigris River, "you had better take my advice and not go beyond Hille. It is better to take the course of other travelers. Go to the border of civilization and then get some well-informed native to give you particulars, which you can polish up and call it experience, like the assumed traveler in the Star and Crescent, who boxed our dead in coffins, a custom unknown here.

"I have represented the United States here for years and have probably entertained every American traveler who has visited Baylon, Nipper and other biblical landmarks here. None have been so hazardous as to go among a people who are so bigoted that they consider it their religious duty to kill those who would interfere with their mode of worship. From reports of stragglers, or desert herdsmen, there are, I presume, twenty thousand people in Nazzip or Me-Schwad, mostly children of Bedouins. They have no schools, no maps of the world, do not know north from south and their wealth has been gained through wild raids on the Mohammedan fanatics bringing their dead to the ancient shrine of Nazzip, mostly from Persia and India."

"I came out to see the elephant, Mr. Hurner," I said, "and while I appreciate your advice, I am not afraid of those people. I go open-handed with little money, which they could use, and with a disposition to appreciate instead of criticize. My experience with the uncivilized has been that if one mind his own business, and do not stray from the crowd, their confidence is soon gained, and they soon show indications of sympathy and love. Do you think my men will back out of the agreement?"

"Well, let me see. Old Shammo has been acting as cook and guide around here for twenty-five years. He boasts that he conducted a funeral party down the Shat-El-Chebar and over to Me-Schwad twenty years ago. He may be lying about that, but I think for the price you offer he will stick to you. Then Moses is a daring fellow, whom you can rely upon. You ought to know him; he just came up on the boat with you. He has been to Africa, has he not? He will help you, as he speaks a little broken English. I think by what I can learn, he is the best fitted man in Bagdad for you. Alker his half-brother, will probably stick by you also. Tatus, the wealthy man's son, is anxious to learn about the south, and will probably go where Moses goes and stay where Moses stays. I think they are all Shea-Mohammedans, and while they are looked upon with suspicion they are in much less danger than you are.

"You see, I have your passport signed and sealed by the Turkish authorities, so you must exhibit that continually, and if the Sheiks are not able to read one word of it they will recognize the quail tracks, and think it is an order from Constantinople for you and your escort to pass through. Then with our arrangements for Nim Burr's old solid-wood-wheeled stage and the six mounted police, you will get through to Babylon all right, that is if they do not lay down on you and make you pay them over again. I think if you furnish, as you seem to be doing, a quarter of mutton to each man for lunch, they will go through all right, for it cannot be more than thirty or forty miles to Babylon.

"From Hille, which is built from the ruins of old Babylon, to Chuffel, with a good mounted squad, you will make it easily, for they will think you are rabbinical tourists to Burr's Nimrod and Ezekiel's tomb.

"If you could be satisfied to visit Karbilla, where there is also a temple for the Mohammedan dead, you could probably run across the desert from Burr's Nimrod in safety, but if you approach the wealthy interior city called Me-Schwad or Nazzip, where the temple is, in which they claim Allah, the brother-in-law of Mohammet, was buried, you may find a decidedly warm reception and you may not—I do not know. I often thought I would like to go there myself.

"You may think it strange, Mr. Richardson, that there is no map of that district, or statistics, or census of the inhabitants of so vast a country and city, which like the sphinx of the Nile, sits with its face to the broad valley before it and its back to the great desert, which is inhabited by roving Bedouins, who respect no law, pay no taxes, and love their horses more than they do their wives and children, but it is practically true.

"You see, Mr. Richardson, it is this way: like a Russian Jew who will spend a life's careful savings for one journey to the tomb of Abraham, so these Shea-Mohammedans, who are scattered over Arabia, Persia, Messopotamis and even into India, who have amassed a small fortune, arrange that when they die their relatives start with their embalmed bodies—not in coffins, but wound in tarred linen—to carry them on horses or camels either to Mecca, Me-Schwad or Karbilla.

"When they arrive, the ceremony for the dead is in accordance with the amount of money they bring. After the funeral, the friends of the dead stay in town on a protracted spree until their money is spent, then beg or steal their way home. Thus you see that the sacred temples are a source of income, and wealth has its influence in the Orient just the same as in your own Yankeedom. When those mourners are returning home, either from ignorance or fear, they keep mum as to the city, conditions, the final disposal of the bodies and everything else. Simply it is an honor to lug along a putrid carcass and lay it in the gilded temple of Allah.

"Now, my good friend Richardson, while it may be that Moses will bring you back safe, still you better take my advice and give up Me-Schwad. When you get to Babylon get a heavy escort of cavalry and run down to Nipper, a ruins more ancient than Babylon, where you will find an old Yankee from Boston rooting around the debris expecting every day to unearth the private library of Adam with the spinning wheel of Mother Eve, and place them on exhibition in the world's gallery of fame. Now, will you give up that trip to Nazzip, or must you go into the stamping grounds of the dare-devil Mohammedans?"

"Consul," I said, as I laid my hand on his arm and smiled into his face, "your caution is appreciated, but it does not budge me a hair." Then we both laughed loud, and he ordered more coffee or something else, after which I continued: "I have been among the cannibals and they treated me royally. Of course, it is necessary for one to take good care not to be ambushed and eat food only from their own cook, with, of course, a proper guard when on the desert. Now, that isn't all, Mr. Hurner. I am going to join the big caravan on its way from Persia to Palestine, and you do not like that either, do you?"

"Mr. Richardson, I wish you could see your finish before you start. Of course, Oriental traders, half-breeds and camel drivers, who sometimes speak a little English, often take refuge in those caravans, but they are not like tourists. During my consulship here, no tourist has passed over the Dier and Tadmore route. You know you will be as lousy as a badger in three days, and if you die, they may not even bury you in the sand, but leave you for the vultures to eat."

"Nonsense, if I avoid accidents and do not stray from the camp I shall be all right, for no well man can get sick in six weeks if he sticks to his tea, rusk, eggs and mutton."

"All right, my American invincible, just one more word and I am through. You remember the first night that you came to Bagdad, how I took you out on the desert to show you where we had a fair two years ago, and pointed out the spot where the Bedouins came down upon us and at the point of their daggers took our collection and not one of them were arrested. I do this to impress upon your mind the fact that the Sabeans who fell upon the family of Job still linger on the desert wild. Now as we have argued so long you must be weary, so please join me again in refreshments before my guard takes you to your room."