I made him count his sum, which amounted to 7½ sequins, and a piece of silver, value about half-a-crown, which in Syria they call Abou Kelb, Father Dog. It is the Dutch Lion rampant, which the Arabs, who never call a thing by its right name, term _a dog_.--In short, this treasure amounted to something more than three guineas; and this he desired me to keep till we separated. Do not you tell them, said he, and I will throw off my cloaths and girdle, and leave them on board, while I go to swim, and when they find I have nothing upon me they will not hurt me. But what security, said I, have you that I do not rob you of this, and get you thrown into the Nile some night? No, no, says he, that I know is impossible. I have never been able to sleep till I spoke to you; do with me what you please, and my money too, only keep me out of the hands of those murderers. “Well, well, said I, now you have got rid of your money, you are safe, and you shall be my servant; lye before the door of my dining-room all night, they dare not hurt a hair of your head while I am alive.” The Pyramids, which had been on our right hand at different distances since we passed the Saccara, terminated here in one of a very singular construction. About two miles from the Nile, between Suf and Woodan, there is a Pyramid, which at first sight appears all of a piece; it is of unbaked bricks, and perfectly entire; the inhabitants call it the [105]False Pyramid. The lower part is a hill exactly shaped like a Pyramid for a considerable height. Upon this is continued the superstructure in proportion till it terminates like a Pyramid above; and, at a distance, it would require a good eye to discern the difference, for the face of the stone has a great resemblance to clay, of which the Pyramids of the Saccara are composed. Hassan Abou Cuffi was as good as his word in one respect; he came in the night, and had not drunk much fermented liquors; but he could find no spirits, he said, and that, to be sure, was one of the reasons of his return; I had sat up a great part of the night waiting a season for observation, but it was very cloudy, as all the nights had been since we left Cairo. The 18th, about eight o’clock in the morning, we prepared to get on our way; the wind was calm, and south. I asked our Rais where his fair wind was which he promised to bring? He said, his wife had quarrelled with him all night, and would not give him time to pray; and therefore, says he with a very droll face, you shall see me do all that a Saint can do for you on this occasion. I asked him what that was? He made another droll face, “Why, it is to draw the boat by the rope till the wind _turns fair_.” I commended very much this wise alternative, and immediately the vessel began to move, but very slowly, the wind being still unfavourable.