The tents were large and difficult to move, and those occupied by the Bey and his suite were ponderous marquees. If a strong wind happened to be blowing, twenty or thirty men usually struggled for an hour at least with the canvas of the Bey’s pavilion before it could be got into shape. The baggage was even more cumbersome than the tents. The heir-apparent’s own luggage consisted of a number of wooden trunks covered with brown leather, and thickly studded with brass-headed nails. One of them was devoted to syrups, sweetmeats, and _zoedone_, the orthodox nature of which was duly certified by the Bey’s imám, or chaplain, who found it necessary to make several trials of the drink before he pronounced his definite opinion. The Bey’s personal cortège was as miscellaneous and remarkable as his baggage. At its head was Dr. Stresino, his physician- extraordinary, whose duties were of a very varied nature. In the first place, he had to administer harmless and agreeably coloured potions to cure imaginary ailments, he was expected to make himself pleasant whenever the prince was dull, and to play chess whenever required, always contriving to be the loser. The Bash-Káhwajee or “head coffee man,” was certainly the next in importance. His tent immediately adjoined that of His Highness, and in it a large pot of water was continually kept boiling over a charcoal fire. He was expected to produce cups of coffee at a moment’s notice. During the march he was always close to his master’s heels, with all his paraphernalia in saddle-bags, and ready whenever called on to perform his duty. After the Káhwajee came the chaplain, the water-bearer, the gun-bearer, the pipe- bearer, and the sword-bearer. The jester was a very important personage indeed. He was privileged to say what he liked, and the coarser his jokes the more they were appreciated. Whenever the camp was moved Ali Bey mounted his charger for a few minutes, and then betook himself to a gilt coach, drawn over the roughest ground by four mules. Beggars abounded, and some of the Bey’s trunks contained linen and cloth to enable him to indulge freely in the virtue of almsgiving. Outside the lines were rows of booths and stalls, at which blacksmiths, gunsmiths, butchers, and grocers busily plied their trades. Public criers went the rounds all day vociferating the last bids for a horse, a cow, or a _bernous_, as the case might be. The _tout ensemble_ gave one the idea of a huge fair, and unless you entered the tent of Ali Bey or that of his prime minister, Sy Tahar Zouch, no one would imagine that matters of the greatest moment were engaging the attention of the heir- apparent, who studiously assumed a cheerful demeanour when in public.