be depended on, and it was to get down and lift his rear around until his

head pointed in the right direction, or take him under your arm and carry

him to a part of the road which he could not get out of without climbing.

The sun flamed down as hot as a furnace, and neck-scarfs, veils and

umbrellas seemed hardly any protection; they served only to make the long

procession look more than ever fantastic--for be it known the ladies were

all riding astride because they could not stay on the shapeless saddles

sidewise, the men were perspiring and out of temper, their feet were

banging against the rocks, the donkeys were capering in every direction

but the right one and being belabored with clubs for it, and every now

and then a broad umbrella would suddenly go down out of the cavalcade,

announcing to all that one more pilgrim had bitten the dust. It was a

wilder picture than those solitudes had seen for many a day. No donkeys

ever existed that were as hard to navigate as these, I think, or that had

so many vile, exasperating instincts. Occasionally we grew so tired and

breathless with fighting them that we had to desist,--and immediately the

donkey would come down to a deliberate walk. This, with the fatigue, and

the sun, would put a man asleep; and soon as the man was asleep, the

donkey would lie down. My donkey shall never see his boyhood's home

again. He has lain down once too often. He must die.

We all stood in the vast theatre of ancient Ephesus,--the stone-benched

amphitheatre I mean--and had our picture taken. We looked as proper

there as we would look any where, I suppose. We do not embellish the

general desolation of a desert much. We add what dignity we can to a

stately ruin with our green umbrellas and jackasses, but it is little.

476

The Innocents Abroad