HASSANEIN. 189 



above Es-Souan. He was a tall, slightly-framed Nubian, 

 black as ink, but with well-cut features, and a keen, intel- 

 ligent look that was fully up to the mark of any first offi- 

 cer I have ever seen on a Yankee schooner. Not that he 

 was as quick or as sharp as a Yankee. Not a bit of it. 

 But he looked so, and if he had been educated in Con- 

 necticut he would have been so. As it was, he was the 

 most reliable man on the boat, and the Reis having been 

 in disgrace long ago, he was virtually the captain. 



There was a touch of romance about him. I saw that 

 soon after he came on board at the Cataract, and I was 

 given to talking with him when the opportunity occurred, 

 for I found no small amount of information about the 

 river stowed away in his shaven skull. 



" Hassanein," I said, in a low voice. 



" Ya, Howadji," was the inquiring response. My Ar- 

 abic was not worth mentioning, and Hassanein never 

 knew a word of English till we taught him to say "good- 

 morning," and there his acquisitions ended. But I had 

 acquired a knack of understanding the signs which they 

 use very ably, and with my half-dozen Arabic words to 

 ask questions, and my ability to understand some others, 

 I could maintain a tolerable conversation with them. 



" Have you a wife, Hassanein ?" 



"I? No, Howadji." 



" How is that ? Why not ?" 



Hassanein sighed, and looked down on the deck. I 

 turned over on my sofa and looked at him, and thereby 

 he understood that I waited for an answer. At length it 

 came. He talked slowly at first, then vehemently, and I 

 lay and listened. I translated what he said somewhat in 

 this wise : 



When Hassanein was a boy he was very much like oth- 



