Hand County press. (Miller, Dakota [S.D.]) 1882-1893, 1882-10-11
THE N1WELUKE'S LEaP.
4 Story IF Modern E0ypf.

There are few more striking city land
scapes i'll the whole of Africa, though
there may be many handsomer, than the
panorama of Cairo, where ancient and
modern Mohammedanism stand repre-
sented side by side. As a mere picture,
the traveller may perhaps give his pref
erence to the towering red cliffs and
terraced streets of Oran, the magniti-
cent crescent of white houses surmount-
ing the green sloping hills and sparkling
waters of Algiers bay, or the strange
little eagles nest of Constantine perched
on the summit of perpendicular crag,
and encircled on all sides but one 10y a
hideous chasm 500 feet in depth. But
in the picturesque mingling of the past
and the present, of quaint Eastern bar
barism and iaunty Western civilization,
Cairo stands alone.
II must he owned however, that the
late Khedive's efforts to make HIS capl-
tai cheap edition of Paris have had
anything but satisfactory result.
Moslem cities are as conservative rs
their inhabitants, and do not take kindly
to the bustling new-fangled notions OF
the West. The ShubYa Gardens, indeed
(Which form the park of Cairo, are
charming foil to the hot, dusty plain all
around; and 80, too, is the long avenue
of date palms extending from the Nile
almost TO where the mighty crests of
the pyramids are seen looming against
the rich tropical sky on the border OF
the everlasting desert. But there Is
parish. offensive smartness about every
street of the new "Ismailiyeh Quarter"
with its tall, white hotels and bride
cake-like villas, and inclosed grass plots
sorelv in need Of watering; and 1t Is
quite n relief to turn from this made
to-order" town into the maze of dark,
narrow. Oriental streets around the
base of the citadel hill, where one may
still. sec What the great city was IN the
davs when she first received her Arabic
title of al Kahira.'
Here, indeed, YOU may take your MI
of Eastern associations. You seem to
be looking NJ from the bottom OF
well at the bright summer sky, whicl
is only visible as a little ribbon OF burn
ing light far overhead, between the Hat
acknowledgements roofs of the strang'
old houses, wi h their blank, MASSIVE
walls and deep tunnel-like doorways
All around You the quaint, old-worl'
life of the Arabian Nights" IS In full
swing. The gray-bearded barber ]
chatting 70 his Arab customer as h
shaves his crown. The laden camel
striding up the narrow, rubbish-heape
street, almost tramples upon turpane'
loafer who is too lazy to get out OF IN
way. The "kabobki" (seller OF cooke'
meat sets out upon the narrow boar
before him his little squares OF smok'n
mutton, each impaled upon its own TIN
spit. The deformed beggar extends vi
shapeless mass of sores which serve
him as hand, with shrill petition i'
charity The bare-limbed water-c 'rri'
waddles past under his dripping bag
skin, eyed obviously by the tattere'
dusty pilgrim from Mecca, who IL loo
ing round in search OF bath-hous
The yelled woman glides noiseiess
past in her shroad-lke robe, ike
risen corpse, while the gaunt, haif-cla
wild.eyed deryish religious devote
stalks through the crowd yelling ike
mad man, and tossing his bare arr
frantc,lly in the air.
Amid such scene, one would hard
be surprised TO come upon khoI
Hassan, Or Sindbad, the sailor. snug
seated in shady corner and recoui
ing to circle of admiring listeners O
of those interminable stories which
lighted the Caliph Haroun A-kasch
Before you reach the foot OF the wir