The little Arab children of the desert are quite different from those who live in the towns, as, indeed, are their elders. The Bedouins of the desert are by no means an uncivilized race, and their kind-heartedness and strict regard for doing by others as they would be done by is a marked feature of their daily life. This little book tells of the comings and goings of two little children of the desert; how they lived their lives; their plays and games; and many of the curious sights they saw as they travelled about with their parents, on one occasion visiting the great city of Medina, where they were as much strangers as if they were little American cousins who had come there on a journey. Arabia itself is a wild, sad country, but with here and there great patches of verdure, date-palms, cocoanuts, and coffee plants which give prosperity to the inhabitants. Some of the tribes are warlike and less peaceful than others, but they are the outcasts of the country, the same as are found elsewhere than in Arabia. Our little Arabian cousins have much in common with other little cousins, in that they are very strictly brought up, and are taught to have a great respect for their elders, and particularly to be polite and thoughtful to strangers. Their games and many of the acts of their daily lives are what we ourselves would consider violent and rough, but that only shapes them in their future careers to live up to their ancestral traditions. B. M. Contents CHAPTER PAGE I. RASHID COMES TO THE BLACK TENTS 1 II. HAMID AND RASHID AT PLAY 20 III. THE ROBBER BAND AND AN OSTRICH HUNT 40 IV. RASHID GOES HOME 57 V. HAMID AND FATIMAH SEE THE GREAT CITY 73 List of Illustrations PAGE HAMID _Frontispiece_ A SCHOOL IN MODENA 12 IN THE BLACK TENTS 33 IN THE "_SHUGDUF_" 60 "THEY SCATTERED THE GRAIN ALL ABOUT THE COURTYARD" 75 THE CARAVAN ON THE ROAD TO MECCA 80 [Illustration: _Map showing Places mentioned in_ OUR LITTLE ARABIAN COUSIN] Our Little Arabian Cousin CHAPTER I RASHID COMES TO THE BLACK TENTS "THEY come, father, they come; I see a cloud of dust just over the hills," cried young Hamid, galloping up on his fiery little pony to where his father sat proudly on his horse, with a number of the men of his tribe around him. Al-Abukar, Hamid's father, was a grave, dignified Bedouin Arab, with a flowing beard and a long white cloak completely covering him. In his right hand he held a long lance or spear.