few feet of the ground, we rarely availed ourselves of our opportunity. The system of irrigation that is here carried on is so perfect that, despite the excessive heat of the summer season and the three months of dry heat that had already passed, we were scarcely able to discover a dry leaf or shoot among the hundreds of thousands by which we were surrounded. This was indeed a most extraordinary aspect, and one that specially appealed to the eye looking down from a mountain elevation.
A cluster of mud or adobe houses, whose one-storied rooms lie beneath the impending leaves of the palm, constitute the Arab village to the inhabitants of which is apportioned the proprietorship of the oasis. The Arabs here are naturally not nomads, but permanent fixtures, to whom a life in the desert has little of that Africa associated with it which is the proper service of the Arab of the caravan. Under the guidance of Ben-Labri we visited a number of the houses, most of which were constituted of two or three almost entirely vacant rooms, capped by thatchings of palm leaves. In some instances a semblance of a second story was presented by a projecting veranda, on which was pitched a round tent. What little of woodwork was necessary for the support of the walls or the roof, or to outline doorways and windows, was mainly constructed from the shaft of the palm, but a rather incongruous piece of architecture occasionally carried the eye to bits or entire frames of Venetian blinds. A somewhat rarer element of construction was to be found in blocks of ancient Roman masonry, whose fanciful carvings at one time graced much more imposing structures of the desert. It must be admitted that the first inspection of the hard earth flooring of the houses, with visions of scorpions and centipeds coursing over it in wild affray, or of a lurking horned viper eagerly scanning the path of each intruder, was not immediately conducive to a real desire to share its space; but a few moments' careful study of corners and under-spaces, which brought out only wandering humpbacked ants, soon dispelled the first feeling of uncanniness which a conceived danger inspires, and with the assistance of a large mat we were soon placed at ease and comparative comfort. We visited one of the schools, where the teacher as in days of old was inculcating the doctrines of the Koran to some twelve or fifteen little barefooted urchins, and also went through the village mosque. Judiciously taking the border of the room, or in the center avoiding the holy carpet, we were allowed to enter far enough to gratify a photographer's passion, and in a few minutes' time the drop-shutter announced several pictures taken.
Surprising as from many points of view was this oasis of El-Kantara, it only cleared the way for a still greater surprise when we reached Biskra, the present terminus of the Constantine-Saharan
