said had to be said, and if you wish to report it, well and good."

So we parted, civilly but coolly, and the Turkish ship soon afterwards steamed away to Basra. I heard afterwards that I was duly reported to the Sultan, who complained to the British Government, but I heard no more on the subject, having sent in my own report of the affair in the meantime.

The Sheikh, when I called on him later, told me that the Turkish captain had threatened him with dire consequences if he failed to acknowledge the Sultan as his sovereign, but that he had not budged in his attitude of independence. He also told me that all through that misty night the whole length of the beach was lined with his men, armed with rifles, under Jabur, in case the Turks should attempt a surprise landing in the mist and darkness.

Uneventful weeks passed by, during which I rode nearly every evening for exercise, and also made with the Sheikh certain arrangements for the defence of the town against attacks by land, selecting various points where guns (which could be lent from the ship) might be placed, and ascertaining the positions of the wells from which the town obtained its water supply to ensure their being covered by the guns of the ship.

Those rides were always enjoyable, for the bazaars were interesting, the narrow irre

gular streets with great wooden doors, sometimes carved, leading into the windowless houses, were surprising and mysterious; the market-place outside the gate was a mass of moving colours, with numerous Bedouin Arabs, veiled women, and quaint little children. At this gate the Sheikh sat early every morning with a guard of soldiers, to administer justice, hear complaints, and receive dues paid to him by visiting Bedouins. Wandering through these scenes was, as I have said, a realisation of the days of Haroun-al-Raschid in Bagdad. It was a pleasure, too, to bestride Wazna, the most lovely Arab mare that could be imagined, with her skin of satin, her splendid shape, and beautiful eyes; full of spirit and fast as the wind, yet docile and obedient to a whisper. My affection for Wazna was a constant source of amusement to the Sheikh, and before I left Koweit he offered her to me as a gift, which, of course, I was unable to accept.

In September I had to take the ship to Kharag Island for a few days to carry out target practice; on returning to Koweit, I was astonished to see, through my glasses, as we approached our anchorage, that the desert surrounding the town was covered with enormous numbers of flocks, camels, horses, and Bedouin tents, which had not been there when I left Koweit a week before. Something was in the wind. Hadji Ali, the one-eyed, came on

board as soon as we had anchored, with a message from the Sheikh to tell me that the forces of his enemy, the Emir Ibn Raschid of Nejd (egged on, of course, by the Turks) were within three days' march of Koweit, and that he, the Sheikh, was consequently assembling all his fighting men.

Matters were looking serious, and I sent a message to Bushire to inform the senior naval officer there of the situation, in the meantime awaiting events with the intention of supporting Mubarak if an attack should take place. The next day, hearing that he was going to review his forces, I landed in the afternoon and called on the Sheikh, who was waiting for me before riding out to the review. Full of the expectation of fighting, the old chief was in the highest spirits; I had never seen him unbend and talk so much before; and he was delighted to have me and the officers with me to accompany him, for, of course, our presence added to his prestige.

After sherbet, coffee, and cigarettes, we mounted our horses. The Sheikh rode a splendid white horse, with gorgeous trappings, and headed the cavalcade, which was preceded by a large escort of Arabs armed with rifles. We followed the Sheikh, and behind us came numerous Arabs on horseback and on foot. Our progress through the streets and bazaars was striking. All the Arabs had donned their

brightest garb to do honour to the occasion; red, orange, and light brown were the prevailing colours. The escort marching in front and singing loud sonorous war-songs, stretched across the street, clearing a way for us; the people drew back into doorways and corners shouting cheers to the Sheikh ; the veiled women waved their hands and cried in a continuous shrill squeak, "La-la-lala-la!" Every man we saw, except the blind or helpless, even old grey-beards, carried a rifle.

We emerged from the town upon the open desert, which, as far as the eye could see, was black with people. In the centre were numerous armed men, who attached themselves to our procession; on each side as we advanced were thousands of women, maintaining their shrill La-la-la-la!" without ceasing. Ahead of us we saw a mass of men with banners of red or green, bearing Arabic inscriptions, waving over them. As we approached, we found these men were drawn up in long lines, not very regular, but with some attempt at formation, and we rode along these lines, Sheikh Mubarak, a proud and noble figure on his white horse, at our head. As we passed, all the menwild with excitement-danced, waved their rifles, and yelled, making a terrific din, to which drums loudly added. Most of the men looked wild and barbarous, with long hair stream

ing in the wind, but many of the older ones were fine-looking old patriarchs, reminding one of pictures from the Bible. The dancing, which resembled the motions of a man compelled to stand on hot bricks-i.e., alternate feet raised rapidlylooked comic, especially in the case of venerable old gentlemen, grey and portly, with the aspect of Moses and Abraham. In front of our escort, as we moved along, a pair of mounted Bedouins would wildly gallop, meeting each other half-way and firing their rifles in the air as they passed each other an exhibition of Arab warfare. It was a wonderful and rare spectacle. There must have been at least 10,000 people scattered over the plain, and their devotion and loyalty to Sheikh Mubarak was clearly evident. Returning to the town after the review, the old Sheikh, over coffee and cigarettes with us, was immensely pleased and elated, as well he might be, and expressed himself as ready to tackle Ibn Raschid or any other sheikh in Arabia.

Soon afterwards we heard that Raschid, who had advanced to within a few hours' march of Koweit, had, after helping himself to a few hundred sheep, retired to a distance, evidently scared by the news of Mubarak's warlike preparations.

My news of these events had brought to Koweit two or three additional cruisers to assist in its defence if required, and

for some weeks we were all busy in making preparations for that purpose, both at Koweit and at Jehara, a place at the head of the bay which formed an advanced position of defence, where guns were landed and placed, and some of Mubarak's men instructed in their use. Guns were also mounted in dhows, to form armed patrols along the shore.

All these preparations, aided by diplomatic action (which resulted from them), led to the abandonment-at least for a time of aggressive movements on the part of Ibn Raschid and the Turks, and peace again fell upon Koweit.

In October I sailed for another part of the station, expecting (and, to tell the truth, hoping) never to see Koweit again, after four months of such heat and discomfort-on which I have refrained from dwelling-as I had never experienced before. But it was with genuine regret that I parted from my friend the Sheikh. Our close intercourse for four months had led to a mutual understanding and friendship that almost amounted to brotherhood, and it was with genuine emotion that Mubarak bade me farewell.

But in the following January the Turks were again becoming aggressive towards Mubarak, and the Stella was ordered to proceed from Bombay to Koweit. On our arrival there we found three other British cruisers, and the arrangements

for the defence of Koweit and Jehara remaining in full force. The Turkish sloop Zohaf, with which I had had the encounter previously narrated, had again called at Koweit, bringing this time a high official from Basra with a peremptory message purporting to be from the Sultan of Turkey, ordering Mubarak to go to Constantinople and ask pardon for his presumptuous conduct, in which case he would be permitted to remain as Sheikh of Koweit, but if he refused, he would be banished. Needless to say, Mubarak, supported by the British naval officer on the spot, declined the invitation, and the Turkish official went off in high dudgeon, vowing vengeance. The Sultan later on denied all knowledge of the affair.

The Turks, finding threats useless and hopes of direct attacks vain in the presence of British cruisers, now adopted a more subtle method: they began a policy of gradual encroachment on the outlying parts of Mubarak's territory. This was a clever policy up to a certain point, for the exact boundaries of this territory were not clearly defined.

We had again to wait and watch events. I spent most of this time of waiting at Jehara, where the Sheikh had temporarily taken up his quarters. He received me with the greatest affection, and we had some long talks on the subject of his enemies and their methods and intentions. I rode with

him round his camp, which was pitched in the desert outside the village of Jehara, and which included about 100 tents, with some 1500 men.

The Sheikh's favourite pastime in winter was the ancient sport of falconry, and I should have greatly liked to accompany him in one of his hawking expeditions, but the times were too busy for him just then. To occupy our spare time, the weather being now cold, we laid out a golf-course in the desert, and played frequently, to the amazement and amusement of the Arabs, some of whom we enlisted as caddies. It was amusing to see a greybearded and dignified Arab of patriarchal aspect engaged in this occupation. Our chief trouble was that every day on returning to our links we found that all the jam-pots, tins, &c., which we had placed in the "holes had disappeared. These were evidently regarded as great treasures by the natives of the neighbourhood, and as fast as we replaced them they were stolen.

I was playing golf one day when an Arab came to me with the news that a small party of Turks had pitched their tents a day's march from Jehara, in Mubarak's territory. The Sheikh had then returned to Koweit, but I had an interview with his cousin, whom he had left in charge at Jehara, and with another Arab Sheikh, who was one of the most strikingly handsome, as well

as intelligent, men I had seen in this country of finelooking men. While the latter was explaining to me, by tracing in the sand, the position and routes likely to be taken by the Turks, a dust-covered Bedouin arrived, who had seen the Turks at a place called Safwan, which they occupied, and had ascertained that they had sent a party to occupy another place, nearer Koweit, called Um Kasr; both these places Mubarak claimed as his.

These matters were referred to the British Resident at Bushire, and through him to the Indian Government, to be settled if possible by diplomacy. Lord Curzon, the Viceroy of India, protested strongly against these encroachments of the Turks, but without any immediate results. On the other hand, Ibn Raschid had ceased to be a menace to Mubarak, having to confront a rebellion in his own country.

After a month at Jehara I was again ordered to Bombay, and went to pay my last visit to Sheikh Mubarak in his palace at Koweit. During my previous absence he had built a new reception-room on one of the higher terraces of the building. It was a more gorgeous apartment than the old one; open on all sides, with jalousies of polished wood; the ceiling decorated in red and gold. The handsome Persian carpet had disappeared-Mubarak was now so British in his feelings that nothing but an English carpet

would suit him; and the floor was covered with a costly but hideous Kidderminster production, which he had procured at great expense, and of which he was immensely proud.

I bade a warm farewell to the fine old Sheikh, to his son, Jabur, to the faithful Hadji Ali, and my other friends. They had all filled me with admiration and respect for the calm dignity and perfect courtesy they had invariably displayed during the many months of our intercourse, in times of excitement as well as of peace. And towering above them all in my memory is the stern and stately figure of Sheikh Mubarak.

I never saw him again, but heard of him from time to time: how the Viceroy of India had called at Koweit in a man-of-war of such a size as had never been seen there before, and had presented the Sheikh with a sword of honour ; how Mubarak had been made a Knight Commander of the Star of India and a Knight Commander of the Indian Empire; how his prestige had vastly increased; how he had bought a yacht and cruised about the gulf; how he had given battle, with his allies, the Wahhabis, against Ibn Raschid and driven him back to Hail defeated; and how the Turks had ceased to molest him. A British Political Officer had been established at Koweit; British steamers called at the port regularly; trade had increased, and the town