My first stop at the Rock was for only an hour, for I was anxious to get on to Tangier, and the little ‘Scorpion’ steamer that plied between the ports, the _Gibel Dursa_, sailed that Tuesday morning at eleven o’clock. I seemed to be the only cabin passenger, but on the deck were many Oriental folk and low-caste Spaniards, not uninteresting fellow-travellers. Though the characters of the North African and the South Spaniard are said to be alike, in appearance there could be no greater contrast, the one lean and long-faced, the other round-headed and anxious always to be fat. Neither are they at all alike in style of dress, and I had occasion to observe a peculiar difference in their code of manners. I had brought aboard a quantity of fresh figs and pears, more than I could eat, and I offered some to a hungry-looking Spaniard, who watched me longingly; but he declined. On the other hand a miserable Arab to whom I passed them at once accepted and salaamed, though he told me by signs that he was not accustomed to the sea and had eaten nothing since he left Algiers. As I moved away, leaving some figs behind, I kept an eye over my shoulder, and saw the Spaniard pounce upon them. The conductor, or, as he would like to be dignified, the purser, of the ship, necessarily a linguist, was a long, thin creature, sprung at the knees and sunk at the stomach. He was of some outcast breed of Moslem. Pock-marked and disfigured with several scars, his appearance would have been repulsive were it not grotesque. None of his features seemed to fit. His lips were plainly negro, his nose Arabian, his ears like those of an elephant; I could not see his eyes, covered with huge goggles, black enough to pale his yellow face. Nor was this creature dressed in the costume of any particular race. In place of the covering Moorish _jeleba_ he wore a white duck coat with many pockets. Stockings covered his calves, leaving only his knees, like those of a Scot, visible below full bloomers of dark-green calico. On his feet were boots instead of slippers. Of course this man was noisy; no such mongrel could be quiet. He argued with the Arabs and fussed with the Spaniards, speaking to each in their own language. On spying me he came across the ship at a jump, grabbed my hand and shook it warmly. He was past-master at the art of identification. Though all my clothes including my hat and shoes had come from England--and I had not spoken a word--he said at once, ‘You ’Merican man,’ adding, ‘No many ’Merican come Tangier now; ’fraid _Jehad_’--religious war. ‘Ah, you speak English,’ I said. ‘Yes, me speak Englis’ vera well: been ’Merica long time--Chicago, New’leans, San ’Frisco, Balt’more, N’York’ (he pronounced this last like a native). ‘Me been Barnum’s Circus.’ ‘Were you the menagerie?’ The fellow was insulted. ‘No,’ he replied indignantly, ‘me was freak.’