sense of inquiry, the same subdued excitement and expectation with which it looks across the arid sand stretching out to the horizon and beyond. What restless fever consumes this statuesque figure, impelling him ever to be on the move? Where does his quest lead amid the dunes and burning sand, and what is the power that keeps him eternally a wanderer in that silent land? Vaguely one realises the subtle affinity between the two—the nameless spell which the desert casts over her sons.
The dress of the Arab, picturesque though it is, would seem to have been expressly designed with a view to affording the utmost possible protection to the head. The cachi, a little felt cap, red, brown, or white, and surmounted by a silk tassel in a contrasting shade, is common to all. Two, and frequently three, are worn, one above the other, the topmost being invariably red. Concealing the cachi is the haik, an ample white drapery drawn low on the forehead and falling curtain-wise about the face. It is held in place by one or more tightly-fitting rings composed of camel's or goat's hair, pressed firmly down on the head, and is of such liberal dimensions as to envelop the entire figure above a shirt contrived from fine white wool. Over all is flung the burnous, a voluminous mantle of plain of plain or striped material which can be arranged in a variety of ways. Sometimes it is tied at the throat with strings tipped with tassels, and at others it is wrapped about the body in classic folds with one end flung over the left shoulder. Sandals are worn on the bare feet, and the beard is long and pointed.
The costume of the chief of a warrior tribe