THE VOYAGE FROM NAPLES TO EAST AFRICA. 
31 
Now we meet a caravan of haughty camels walking like in¬ 
cipient jabberwocks down from the interior region, bearing sacks 
of coffee and their riders looking like other animated sacks of coffee- 
sacks, camels and riders all the same dun hue. Although there are 
large placards forbidding any tips to the guides at the wells—where 
one needs no guide at all—insinuating individuals of polyglot pro¬ 
pensities will molest your free passage and convey to you in a mys¬ 
terious way which defies placards that a little fee is customary and 
de rigueur. 
If you are a brave woman you won’t give it. If you are a weak 
man you will. The wells are not worth it, though the drive up and 
back is. Alas, for the lonely little cemetery you pass on the way! not 
a wisp of green in it, only sand drifting over pathetic little head¬ 
stones—never did death look more desolate. 
Constructed like rather large bake ovens, the houses in the 
native quarter are anything but inviting, though, thanks doubtless 
to English supervision, the roads that run between the irregularly 
built dwellings are not so filthy as might be expected. Here you 
may buy brassware, pottery and, above all, the lovely baskets which 
are a feature of Aden. 
