offensive smell from the accumulation of dirt on the yards and
staircases of the palace was quite overwhelming: it is easier to
imagine than to describe the abominable stench that pervaded the whole
place. The few mosques are without importance--miserable whitewashed
coral buildings. One, however, under construction promised to be a
shade better than the others.

[Illustration: Fort, Mission House and Town of Massowah]

The streets--if by this name we may call the narrow and irregular
lanes that run between the houses--are kept pretty clean; whether
with or without municipal intervention I cannot say. Except in front
of the Pasha's residence, there is no open space worthy of the name
of square. The houses are much crowded together, many even being
half built over the sea on piles. Land is of such value on this
spot so little known, that reclamation was at several points going
on; though I do not suppose that shares and dividends were either
issued or promised.

The landing-place is near the centre of the island, opposite to the
gates of the town, which are regularly shut at eight P.M.; why, it
is difficult to say, as it is possible to land on any part of the
island quite as easily, if not more so, than on the greasy pier.
On the landing-place a few huts have been erected by the collector
of customs and his subordinates; these, surrounded by the brokers
and tallow-scented Bedouins, register the imports, exacting such
duties as they like, before the merchandise is allowed to be purchased
by the Banians or conveyed to the bazaar for sale. This last-named
place--the _sine qua non_ of all Eastern towns--is a wretched
affair. Still, the Bedouin beau, the Bashi-bazouk, the native girls,