Yet it wasn't worked. The surface was only scratched by an ox-drawn wooden plough, the pattern for which came out of the Ark. True, it was irrigated—as Joseph and his Brethren irrigated _their_ selections. Here and there one caught a glimpse of a scantily clad _fellah_ raising water from a channel by means of a rope attached to a weighted and counterpoised pole and bucket, or slowly turning the handle of an archimedean screw. Occasionally oxen were pressed into the service, and kept to their work by women or children armed with goads. In such cases the water was raised by the agency of a wheel furnished with gourds, or sherds, attached equidistantly all round its circumference. The ox walked round in a circle, its dexter optic being obscured by means of a pad to prevent its entering on the broad way that leadeth to destruction—and, incidentally, throwing the water supply out of gear. When you bellowed _Ah-h-h!_ like a goat, it kept going on its circular tour, and an abruptly terminated _Ye-e-es!_ caused it to come to a full stop. It would rather stop than go any time. We left the train at the siding, and bumped straight away into the usual mob of donkey boys and beggars. Threading our way through this lot we skirted a native café and store, and set out for the village situated some half-mile to the right front, the crowd of jabbering and gesticulating mongrels falling into procession behind us. In this formation we betook us through a plantation of date palms, past a paddock or two of vivid green berseine, and arrived at a flour-mill on the outskirts of the settlement. An old dame with a face like a gargoyle sat at the door selling sticky-looking native sweetmeats and Turkish Delight, while inside the mill was a crowd of women and young girls, some of the latter by no means bad-looking. When they smiled (which later on they did) you had a vision of ivory teeth, flashing eyes, and A1 lips and cheeks—the latter tinged with a nut-brown bronze. Just now, however, there wasn't a smile in the bunch. They were as scared as a mob of full-mouth ewes. I doubt if some of them had ever seen a soldier in their natural—although I expect they had heard a lot about the boys. Anyway they just crowded into a corner of the mill and squinted at us like a bunch of half-tanked parrakeets. Something had to be done. My mate solved the difficulty. "How about buying the old lady out and filling up the nippers?" he said.