Having seen the Doctor and his young friends well under-way toward the South, we will rely for a while on the journal which was kept by Frank and Fred. After recording their departure from Cairo, and briefly describing the scenes on the river, the journal says: [Illustration: A VILLAGE ON THE BANK OF THE RIVER.] "We were told that the steamers did not run at night on account of the liability to get on sand-bars, and the possibility of collisions with sailing boats. True to the promise, the boat came to anchor soon after sunset; or, rather, it was brought to the bank and made fast. We were just below a small village, and wanted to go to see it, but the guide said it was unsafe to venture there after dark, on account of the number of dogs prowling about. Egyptian dogs have a great antipathy to foreigners, as we have already learned, and are not to be carelessly approached. "The Orientals regard the dog as an unclean beast, and do not keep him for a pet, as is the custom of Europe and America. Consequently, nearly all the dogs you see around an Eastern city are houseless and homeless, and a very ordinary set of curs they are. There are great numbers of them, and they manage to pick up a living by serving as scavengers, and by stealing whenever they have a chance. They do not disturb the natives, but have such a hatred for strangers that they are often dangerous; they have no terror for sticks and whips, and the only way to drive them is by pelting them with stones. In the daytime they rarely do more than bark and growl; but at night they are bolder, and as they can sneak up to you under cover of the darkness, you must look out for their teeth. [Illustration: GENERAL VIEW OF AN EASTERN CITY.] "We were off by daybreak the next morning, and as there was a mist hanging over the river the scenery was of no special consequence. About eight o'clock we stopped at a village to get some milk; Fred and I followed the conductor, and were soon in a tangle of narrow lanes and mud huts that seemed a perfect labyrinth. The dogs barked, chickens cackled and flew to shelter, as if they knew that the advent of strangers was the signal for them to be killed, and two or three cows took fright at our appearance and ran into the houses. We made a sensation, but evidently the natives were not pleased at our visit, to judge by their scowling faces.