Egypt [Electronic Edition]

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SEBIL OF THE MOSQUE OF THE SULTAN KELAŪN.

PEEPS AT MANY LANDS
EGYPT

R. TALBOT KELLY

R. I., R.B.A., F.R.G.S.
COMMANDER OF THE MEDJIDIEH

WITH TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
BY
THE AUTHOR

LONDON ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK 1910

Published September, 1908 Reprinted March, 1999; October, 1910

iii

CHAPTER	PAGE
I. ITS ANTIQUITY	1
II. THE LAND	7
III. CAIRO—I	15
IV. CAIRO—II	25
V. THE NILE—I	34
VI. THE NILE—II	44
VII. THE NILE—III	53
VIII. THE MONUMENTS	61
IX. THE PEOPLE	71
X. THE DESERT	79

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

By R. TALBOT KELLY, R.I., R.B.A., F.R.G.S.

SEBIL OF THE MOSQUE OF THE SULTAN KELAŪN	frontispiece
	FACING PAGE
AN IRRIGATED FIELD	viii
IN THE LAND OF GOSCHEN—EVENING	9
AN ARAB CAFÉ, CAIRO	16
A MOSQUE INTERIOR	25
A STREET IN CAIRO	32
A WATERING-PLACE	41
THE FIRST CATARACT FROM ELEPHANTINE ISLAND	48
THE PYRAMIDS OF GHIZEH FROM THE DESERT	57
THE COLOSSI OF THEBES—MOONRISE	64
A NILE VILLAGE	73
DESERT ARABS	80
A SHEPHERD	on the cover

vii

SKETCH-MAP OF EGYPT.

AN IRRIGATED FIELD.

EGYPT
CHAPTER I
ITS ANTIQUITY

EVERY boy or girl who has read the history of Joseph
must often have wondered what kind of a country
Egypt might be, and tried to picture to themselves the
scenes so vividly suggested in the Bible story.

It must have been a startling experience for the little
shepherd boy, who, stolen from his home among the
quiet hills of Canaan, so suddenly found himself an
inmate of a palace, and, in his small way, a participator
in the busy whirl of life of a royal city.

No contrast could possibly have been greater than
between his simple pastoral life spent in tending the
flocks upon the hillsides and the magnificence of the
city of Pharaoh, and how strange a romance it is to
think of the little slave boy eventually becoming the
virtual ruler of the most wealthy and most highly cultured
country in the world!

And then in course of time the very brothers who
had so cruelly sold him into bondage were forced by
famine to come to Joseph as suppliants for food, and,

in their descendants, presently to become the meanest
slaves in the land, persecuted and oppressed until their
final deliverance by Moses.

How long ago it all seems when we read these old
Bible stories! Yet, when 4,000 years ago necessity
compelled Abraham, with Sarah his wife, to stay awhile
in Egypt, they were lodged at Tanis, a royal city
founded by one of a succession of kings which for
3,000 years before Abraham's day had governed the land,
and modern discoveries have proved that even before
that time there were other kings and an earlier civilization.

How interesting it is to know that to-day we may
still find records of these early Bible times in the
sculptured monuments which are scattered all over the
land, and to know that in the hieroglyphic writings
which adorn the walls of tombs or temples many of the
events we there read about are narrated.

Many of the temples were built by the labour of the
oppressed Israelites, others were standing long before
Moses confounded their priests or besought Pharaoh to
liberate his people. We may ourselves stand in courts
where, perhaps, Joseph took part in some temple rite,
while the huge canal called the “Bahr Yusef” (or river
of Joseph), which he built 6,300 years ago, still supplies
the province Fayoum with water.

Ancient Tanis also, from whose tower Abraham saw
“wonders in the field of Zoan,” still exists in a heap of
ruins, extensive enough to show how great a city it had
been, and from its mounds the writer has often witnessed
the strange mirage which excited the wonder of
the patriarch.

Everywhere throughout the land are traces of the
children of Israel, many of whose descendants still
remain in the land of Goshen, and in every instance
where fresh discovery has thrown light upon the subject
the independent record of history found in hieroglyph
or papyrus confirms the Bible narrative, so that
we may be quite sure when we read these old stories
that they are not merely legends, open to doubt, but
are the true histories of people who actually lived.

As you will see from what I have told you, Egypt
is perhaps the oldest country in the world—the oldest,
that is, in civilization. No one quite knows how old it
is, and no record has been discovered to tell us.

All through the many thousands of years of its
history Egypt has had a great influence upon other
nations, and although the ancient Persians, Greeks, and
Romans successively dominated it, these conquering
races have each in turn disappeared, while Egypt goes
on as ever, and its people remain.

Egypt has been described as the centre of the world,
and if we look at the map we will see how true this is.
Situated midway between Europe, Africa, and Asia in
the old days of land caravans, most of the trade between
these continents passed through her hands, while her
ports on the Mediterranean controlled the sea trade of
the Levant.

All this helped to make Egypt wealthy, and gave it
great political importance, so that very early in the
world's history it enjoyed a greater prosperity and a
higher civilization than any of its neighbours. Learned
men from all countries were drawn to it in search of

fresh knowledge, for nowhere else were there such seats
of learning as in the Nile cities, and it is acknowledged
that the highly trained priesthood of the Pharaohs practised
arts and sciences of which we in these days are
ignorant, and have failed to discover.

In 30 B.C. the last of the Pharaohs disappeared, and
for 400 years the Romans ruled in Egypt, many of
their emperors restoring the ancient temples as well as
building new ones; but all the Roman remains in
Egypt are poor in comparison with the real Egyptian
art, and, excepting for a few small temples, little now
remains of their buildings but the heaps of rubbish
which surround the magnificent monuments of Egypt's
great period.

During the Roman occupation Christianity became
the recognized religion of the country, and to-day the
Copts (who are the real descendants of the ancient
Egyptians) still preserve the primitive faith of those
early times, and, with the Abyssinians, are perhaps the
oldest Christian church now existing.

The greatest change in the history of Egypt, however,
and the one that has left the most permanent
effect upon it, was the Mohammedan invasion in
A.D. 640, and I must tell you something about this,
because to the great majority of people who visit
Egypt the two great points of interest are its historical
remains and the beautiful art of the Mohammedans.
The times of the Pharaohs are in the past, and have
the added interest of association with the Bible; this
period of antiquity is a special study for the historian
and the few who are able to decipher hieroglyphic writing,

but the Mohammedan era, though commencing nearly
200 years before Egbert was crowned first King of
England, continues to the present day, and the beautiful
mosques, as their churches are called (many of which
were built long before there were any churches in our
own country), are still used by the Moslems.

Nothing in history is so remarkable as the sudden
rise to power of the followers of Mohammed. An ill-taught,
half-savage people, coming from an unknown
part of Arabia, in a very few years they had become
masters of Syria, Asia Minor, Persia, and Egypt, and
presently extended their religion all through North
Africa, and even conquered the southern half of Spain,
and to-day the Faith of Islam, as their religion is called,
is the third largest in the world.

Equally surprising as their accession to power is the
very beautiful art they created, first in Egypt and then
throughout Tunis, Algeria, Morocco, and Spain. The
Moslem churches in Cairo are extremely beautiful, and
of a style quite unlike anything that the world had
known before. Some of my readers, perhaps, may have
seen pictures of them and of the Alhambra in Spain,
probably the most elegant and ornate palace ever
built.

No country in the world gives one so great a sense
of age as Egypt, and although it has many beauties,
and the life of the people to-day is most picturesque, as
we will presently see, it is its extreme antiquity which
most excites the imagination, for, while the whole
Bible history from Abraham to the Apostles covers
a period of only 2,000 years, the known history of

Egypt commenced as far back as 6,000 years ago!
From the sphinx at Ghizeh, which is so ancient that
no one knows its origin, to the great dam at Assuan,
monument of its present day, each period of its
history has left some record, some tomb or temple,
which we may study, and it is this more than anything
else which makes Egypt so attractive to thoughtful
people.

[Back to top]

CHAPTER II
THE LAND

IT would naturally be supposed that a country which
for so long a time exercised such influence upon the
world at large would be extensive and densely
populated.

Neither is the case, however, for though upon the
map Egypt appears to be a large country, the greater
part consists of rock and burning sand, and is practically
uninhabited.

The real land of Egypt is the narrow strip of alluvial
soil which forms the Nile banks, and the fertile delta
which spreads fan-like from Cairo to the sea. These
two divisions of the land practically constitute Upper
and Lower Egypt. In area each is less than Wales,
while the total population of the country is not twice
that of London.

It is its extreme fertility which has made Egypt
prosperous, and throughout the world's history it has
been a granary for the nations, for while drought and
famine might affect other lands, Egypt has always been
able to supply food to its neighbours.

How does this come about? Let me try and explain.

Thousands of years ago, when the world was very
young, the whole land was covered by the sea, which

is plainly shown by the fossils embedded in the rocks,
and which lie scattered over its highest deserts.

As the sea receded, the Nile, then a mighty river,
began to cut its channel through the rock, and poured
into the sea somewhere about where Cairo now stands.

As the ages passed the river cut deeper and deeper
into its rocky bed, leaving on either side the mountains
which hem in its narrow valley, and at the same time
depositing along its banks and in the delta forming at
its mouth the rich alluvial mud which it had carried
with it from the heart of Africa.

In this way the Egypt of history has been formed,
but, surrounded as it is by sandy wastes, and often
swept by hot desert winds, no rain falls to bring life to
the fields, or enable the rich soil to produce the crops
which are its source of wealth.

Nature provides a remedy, however, and the river
which first formed the land is also its life-giver, for
every year the Nile overflows its banks, refertilizing
the soil, and filling the canals and reservoirs with water
sufficient for the year's needs, without which Egypt
would remain a barren, sun-baked land, instead of the
fertile country it is.

The first view of Egypt as it is approached from
the sea is disappointing, for the low-lying delta is
hardly raised at all above sea-level, and its monotony
is only broken by an occasional hillock or the lofty
minarets of the coast towns.

Formerly the Nile had several mouths, and from
many seaports Egypt carried on its trade with the
outside world. To-day only Rosetta and Damietta

THE LAND OF GOSHEN—EVENING Page II.

remain to give their names to the two branches by which
alone the Nile now seeks the sea. These interesting
seaports, mediæval and richly picturesque, are no longer
the prosperous cities they once were, for railways have
diverted traffic from the Nile, and nearly all the seaborne
trade of Egypt is now carried from Alexandria
or Port Said, the northern entrance to the Suez Canal,
and it is by either of these two ports that modern
visitors make their entry into Egypt.

Alexandria is interesting as the city founded by
Alexander the Great, but with the exception of Pompey's
pillar and its ancient catacombs has little attraction for
visitors. The town is almost entirely Italian in
character, and is peopled by so many different races
that it hardly seems Egypt at all; boys, however,
would enjoy a visit to the Ras-el-Tīn Fort, which
figured so largely in the bombardment of Alexandria,
and away to the east, near Rosetta, is Aboukīr Bay, the
scene of a more stirring fight, for it was here that, in
A.D. 1798, Nelson destroyed the French fleet,*

*In the “Battle of the Nile.”

and
secured for Britain the command of the Mediterranean.

After the monotony of a sea voyage, landing at Port
Said is amusing. The steamer anchors in mid-stream,
and is quickly surrounded by gaily painted shore boats,
whose swarthy occupants—half native, half Levantine—clamber
on board, and clamour and wrangle for the
possession of your baggage. They are noisy fellows,
but once your boatman is selected, landing at the little
stages which lie in the harbour is quickly effected, and

you and your belongings are safely deposited at the
station, and your journey to Cairo begun.

Port Said is a rambling town, whose half brick, half
timber buildings have a general air of dilapidation and
unfinish which is depressing. The somewhat picturesque
principal bazaar street is soon exhausted, and excepting
for the imposing offices of the Suez Canal Company,
and the fine statue to De Lesseps, recently erected on
the breakwater, Port Said has little else to excite the
curiosity of the visitors; built upon a mud-bank
formed of Suez Canal dredgings, its existence is its
most interesting feature, and the white breakers of the
Mediterranean, above which it is so little raised, seem
ever ready to engulf it as they toss and tumble upon
its narrow beach.

Leaving Port Said behind, the train travels slowly
along the canal bank, and we begin to enter Egypt.

On the right the quiet waters of Lake Menzala,
fringed with tall reeds and eucalyptus trees, stretches
to the far horizon, where quaintly shaped fishing-boats
disappear with their cargoes towards distant Damietta.
Thousands of wild birds, duck of all kinds, ibis and
pelican, fish in the shallows, or with the sea-gulls wheel
in dense masses in the air, for this is a reservation
as a breeding-green for wild-fowl, where they are
seldom, if ever, disturbed.

On the left is the Suez Canal, the world's highway
to the Far East, and ships of all nations pass within a
stone's throw of your train. Between, and in strange
contrast with the blueness of the canal, runs a little
watercourse, reed fringed, and turbid in its rapid flow.

This is the “sweet-water” canal, and gives its name to one
of our engagements with Arabi's army, and which, from
the far-distant Nile, brings fresh water to supply Port
Said and the many stations on its route.

To the south and east stretches the mournful desert
in which the Israelites began their forty years of
wandering, and which thousands of Moslems annually
traverse on their weary pilgrimage to Mecca; while in
all directions is mirage, so perfect in its deception as to
mislead the most experienced of travellers at times.

Roaming over the desert which hems in the delta,
solitary shepherds, strangely clad and wild-looking,
herd their flocks of sheep and goats which browse upon
the scrub. These are the descendants of those same
Ishmaelites who sold Joseph into Egypt, and the occasional
encampment of some Bedouin tribe shows us
something of the life which the patriarchs might have
led.

In contrast with the desert, the delta appears very
green and fertile, for we are quickly in the land of
Goshen, most beautiful, perhaps, of all the delta
provinces.

The country is very flat and highly cultivated. In
all directions, as far as the eye can see, broad stretches
of corn wave in the gentle breeze, while brilliant patches
of clover or the quieter-coloured onion crops vary the
green of the landscape. The scent of flowering bean-fields
fills the air, and the hum of wild bees is heard
above the other sounds of the fields. Palm groves lift
their feathery plumes towards the sky, and mulberry-trees
and dark-toned tamarisks shade the water-wheels,

which, with incessant groanings, are continually turned
by blindfolded bullocks. Villages and little farmsteads
are frequent, and everywhere are the people, men,
women, and children, working on the land which so
richly rewards their labour.

The soil is very rich, and, given an ample water-supply,
produces two or three crops a year, while the
whole surface is so completely under cultivation that
there is no room left for grass or wild flowers to grow.
Many crops are raised besides those I have already
mentioned, such as maize, barley, rice, and flax, and
in the neighbourhood of towns and villages radishes,
cucumbers, melons, and tomatoes are plentifully grown.
Formerly wheat was Egypt's principal crop, but since
its introduction by Mohammed Ali in A.D. 1820, cotton
has taken first place amongst its products, and is of so
fine a quality that it is the dearest in the world, and
is used almost entirely for mixing with silk or the
manufacture of sateen. Cotton, however, is very exhausting
to the soil, and where it is grown the land
must have its intervals of rest.

No sooner is one crop gathered than yokes of oxen,
drawing strangely shaped wooden ploughs, prepare the
land for another; and the newly turned soil looks
black against the vivid clover fields, in which tethered
cattle graze; while large flocks of sheep of many
colours, in which brown predominates, follow the
ploughs and feed upon the stubble, for the native is as
economical as he is industrious.

Peopled by a race of born farmers, and in soil and
climate provided by Nature with all that could be

desired for crop-raising, only rain is lacking to bring
the fields to fruition, and from the earliest times a
great system of irrigation has existed in Egypt. It is
curious to see in many directions the white lateen sails
of boats which appear to be sailing over the fields. In
reality they are sailing on the canals which intersect the
country in all directions, and by means of thousands of
water-wheels and pumps supply the land with water.
Though the Nile overflows its banks, its inundation
does not cover the whole land; so great arterial
canals which are filled at high Nile have been constructed
throughout the country. From these, smaller
canals branch right and left, carrying the water to the
furthest corners of the land, while such boundary
marks as exist to separate different estates or farms
usually take the form of a watercourse.

These canal banks form the highways of the country,
and are thronged by travellers and laden camels, while
large flocks of sheep and goats are herded along their
sloping sides. Every here and there are little enclosures,
spread with clean straw or mats, and surrounded
by a fence of cornstalks or low walls of mud.
These are the holy places where in the intervals of work
the devout Moslem may say his prayers; and, often
bowered by shady trees, a whitewashed dome marks
the burial-place of some saint or village notable.

The scenery of the delta, though flat, is luxuriant;
for Mohammed Ali not only introduced cotton into
Egypt, but compelled the people to plant trees, so that
the landscape is varied by large groves of date-palms,
and the sycamores and other trees which surround the

villages and give shade to the paths and canal banks.
It is a pastoral land, luxuriantly green; and how
beautiful it is as the night falls, and the last of the sunset
lingers in the dew-laden air, wreathed with the
smoke of many fires; and, as the stars one by one
appear in the darkening sky, and the labour of the
field ceases, the lowing cattle wend their slow ways
toward the villages and the bull-frogs in their thousands
raise their evensong. No scenery in the world has, to
my mind, such mellow and serene beauty as these farm-lands
of Lower Egypt, and in a later chapter I will tell
you more about them, and of the simple people whose
life is spent in the fields.

[Back to top]

CHAPTER III
CAIRO—I

USUALLY its capital may be taken as typical of its
country; but in Egypt this is not so. Cairo is
essentially different from anything else in Egypt, not
only in its buildings and architecture, but in the type
and mode of life of its inhabitants.

How shall I give you any real idea of a city which
is often considered to be the most beautiful Oriental
capital in the world, as it is certainly one of the most
interesting? From a distance, looking across the fields
of Shoubra,*

*A distant suburb of Cairo.

it is very beautiful, especially at sunset,
when beyond the dark green foliage of the sycamore and
cypress trees which rise above the orange groves, the
domes and minarets of the native quarter gleam golden
in the sunlight. Behind is the citadel, crowned by
Mohammed Ali's tomb-mosque of white marble, whose
tall twin minarets seem to tower above the rosy-tinted
heights of the Mokattam Hills. Even here the noise
of the city reaches you in a subdued hum, for Cairo is
not only a large city, but it is densely populated, and
contains nearly a twelfth part of the whole population of
Egypt. Away towards the sunset the pyramids stand
out clearly against the glowing sky, and the tall masts

and sails of the Nile boats reach high above the palm
groves and buildings which screen the river from view.

Cairo consists of two distinct and widely different
parts, the Esbikiyeh and Ismailieh quarters of the
west end, built for and almost entirely occupied by
Europeans, and the purely native town, whose streets
and bazaars, mosques and palaces, have remained
practically unchanged for centuries.

At one time the European quarters were in many
ways charming, though too much like some fashionable
continental town to be altogether picturesque; but of
late years the shady avenues and gardens of the west
end have entirely disappeared to make way for streets
of commercial buildings, while the new districts of
Kasr-el-Dubara and Ghezireh have arisen to house the
well-to-do. Our interest in Cairo, therefore, is centred
in the native quarters, where miles of streets and alleys,
rich in Arabesque buildings, are untouched except by
the mellowing hand of Time.

It is difficult at first to form any true idea of native
Cairo; its life is so varied and its interests so diverse
that the new-comer is bewildered.

Types of many races, clad in strange Eastern
costumes, crowd the narrow streets, which are over-looked
by many beautiful buildings whose dark
shadows lend additional glory to the sunlight. Richly
carved doorways give glimpses of cool courts and
gardens within the houses, while awnings of many
colours shade the bazaars and shopping streets.

Heavily laden camels and quaint native carts with
difficulty thread their way through the crowd, amongst

AN ARAB CAFÉ, CAIRO.

which little children, clad in the gayest of dresses, play
their games. Goats and sheep pick up a living in the
streets, clearing it of garbage, and often feeding more
generously, though surreptitiously, from a fruit or
vegetable shop. Hawks and pigeons wheel and circle
in the air, which is filled with the scent of incense and
the sound of the street cries. Everywhere is movement
and bustle, and the glowing colour of the buildings and
costumes of every tint and texture.

Let us study a little more closely the individual
types and occupations that make up the life of the
streets, and a pleasant way in which to do so is to seat
oneself on the high bench of some native café, where,
undisturbed by the traffic, we may watch the passers-by.

The cafés themselves play an important part in the
life of the people, being a rendezvous not only for the
refreshment provided, but for gossip and the interchange
of news. They are very numerous all over the city,
and are generally fronted by three or more wooden
archways painted in some bright colour and open to the
street. Outside are the “dekkas,” or high benches, on
which, sitting cross-legged, the customer enjoys his
coffee or his pipe. Indoors are a few chairs, and the
square tiled platform on which are placed the cooking-pots
and little charcoal fire of the café-keeper. Generally
an awning of canvas covered with patches of
coloured cloth screens you from the sun, or gives shelter
from the occasional winter showers which clear the
streets of passengers and render them a sea of mud, for
the streets are unpaved and no drainage exists to carry
off the surface water.

The café-owner is always polite, and glad to see you,
and the coffee he makes is nearly always excellent,
though few of his European guests would care to regale
themselves with the curiously shaped water-pipes with
which the native intoxicates himself with opium or
“hashīsh,” and which are used indiscriminately by all
the customers.

Like most of the small tradesmen, our host is clad in
a “gelabieh,” or long gown of white or blue cotton,
gathered round the waist by a girdle of coloured cloth.
Stuck jauntily on the back of his head is the red “tarbūsh,”
or fez, universal in the towns, or, if married, he
wears a turban of fine white cotton; his shoes are of
red or yellow leather, but are generally carried in his
hand if the streets are muddy.

And now, having noticed our café and our host, let
us sit comfortably and try and distinguish the various
types which go to form the crowd which from dawn to
dark throngs the thoroughfares.

First of all it will be noticed how many different
trades are carried on in the streets, most prominent of
all being that of the water-sellers, for Cairo is hot and
dusty, and water is in constant demand.

There are several grades of water-carriers. First,
the “sakka,” who carries on his back a goat-skin filled
with water; one of the fore-legs forms the spout,
which is simply held tight in the hand to prevent the
water from escaping. He is the poorest of them all,
barefooted and wearing an often ragged blue gelabieh,
while a leather apron protects his back from the dripping
goat-skin. He it is who waters the streets and fills

the “zīrs,” or filters, in the shops, a number of shop-keepers
combining to employ him to render this service
to their section of a street.

A superior grade is the “khamali,” who carries upon
his back a large earthen pot of filtered water. When
he wishes to fill the brass drinking-cups, which he
cleverly tinkles as he walks, he has simply to bend
forward until the water runs out of the spout above
his shoulder and is caught in one of the cups, and
it is interesting to notice that he seldom spills a
drop.

Then there is that swaggering and often handsome
fellow clad in red, and with a coloured scarf around his
head, who, with shoulders well set back, carries, slung
in a broad leather belt, a terra-cotta jar. This is the
“sussi,” who sells liquorice water, or a beverage made
from prunes, and which he hands to his customers in a
dainty blue and white china bowl.

The highest grade of all is the “sherbutli,” also gaily
dressed, who from an enormous green glass bottle,
brass mounted, and cooled by a large lump of ice held
in a cradle at the neck, dispenses sherbet, lemonade,
or other cooling drink. Each of these classes of water-seller
is well patronized, for Egypt is a thirsty land.

Here comes a bread-seller, whose fancy loaves and
cakes are made in rings and strung upon wands which
project from the rim of a basket; or on a tray of wicker-work
or queer little donkey-cart are piled the flat unleavened
loaves of the people.

To remind us of the chief baker's dream, the pastry-cook
still cries his wares, which, carried in baskets on

his head, are often raided by the thieving hawk or
crow, while delicious fruits and fresh vegetables are
vended from barrows, much like the coster trade in
London.

Many of the passers-by are well to do, shopkeepers
and merchants, clothed in flowing “khaftan” of coloured
cloth or silk, over which, hanging loosely from their
shoulders, is the black goat's wool “arbiyeh,” or
cloak.

The shops also make a gay addition to the general
colour scheme. Of these the fruit shop is perhaps the
prettiest; here rosy apples and juicy oranges, or pink-fleshed
water-melons, are tastefully arranged in baskets
or on shelves covered with papers of different tints.
Even the tallow-chandler renders his shop attractive by
means of festoons of candles, some of enormous size,
and all tinted in patterns, while the more important
shopping streets are one continuous display of many
coloured silks and cotton goods, the glittering wares of
the jeweller or coppersmith, and the gay trappings of
the saddler.

In between the shops may often be noticed small
doorways, whose white plaster is decorated by some
bright though crude design in many colours; this is
the “hammam,” or public bath, while the shop of the
barber, chief gossip and story-teller of his quarter, is
easily distinguished by the fine-meshed net hung across
the entrance as a protection against flies, for flies
abound in Cairo, which, however disagreeable they
may be, is perhaps fortunate in a country where the
laws of sanitation are so lightly regarded.

Noise enters largely into street life, and the native
is invariably loud voiced. No bargain is concluded
without an apparent squabble, and every tradesman in
the street calls his wares, while drivers of vehicles are
incessant in their cries of warning to foot-passengers.
All the sounds are not unmusical, however, for from
the minarets comes the “muezzin's” sweet call to
prayer, to mingle with the jingling bells and the
tinkling of the cups of the water-sellers.

Then the donkey-boys, everywhere to be found in
Cairo, add much to the liveliness of the streets. Their
donkeys are fine animals, usually grey and very large,
and their bodies are shaved in such a manner as to
leave patterns on the legs and snout, which are often
coloured. The saddles are of red leather and cloth,
and from them hang long tassels which swing as they
canter through the streets, while the musical rattle of
coloured beads and the chains of copper and brass
which all donkeys wear around their necks, add their
quota to the many noises of the streets, through
which in a low murmur one may distinguish the drone
of flies.

Among all the bustle and confusion, shimmering
lights, and varied colour which constitute a Cairo street
scene, the native woman passes with graceful dignity.
Her features are hidden by the “bourka,” or veil,
which is generally worn, but her beautiful eyes fascinate;
nor does the voluminous cloak she wears entirely
conceal the dainty, if brilliant, clothing beneath, nor
the extreme beauty of her well-shaped hands and
feet.

Quite as picturesque as the life of the streets are the
building's which enclose them, and the great glory of
Cairo consists of its bazaars and mosques and old-time
palaces.

The streets are usually irregular in width and often
winding, and are sometimes so narrow as to render
driving impossible, for when Cairo was built wheeled
vehicles were not in use, and space within its walls was
limited. The houses are very lofty, and are built of
limestone or rubble covered with white plaster, and
the lower courses are often coloured in stripes of
yellow, white, and red. Handsome carved doorways
open from the street, and the doors are panelled in
bold arabesque design, or enriched by metal studs and
knockers of bronze. The windows on the ground-floor,
which are usually small, are closed by a wooden
or iron grating, and are placed too high in the wall for
passengers to look through them, and frequently, even
in the best houses, small recesses in the walls serve as
shops.

The upper storeys usually project beyond the ground-floor,
and are supported on corbels or brackets of stone,
which also are frequently carved. This method of
building has two advantages, for the projecting upper
storeys afford a little shade in the streets, and at the
same time give greater space to the houses without
encroaching upon the already narrow thoroughfares.

These upper storeys are very picturesque, for all the
windows are filled with lattice-work, and large window
balconies supported on carved wooden beams project

far over the street. These are called “mushrabiyehs,”
a name which is derived from an Arabic word which
means “the place for drink.” Originally they were
simply small cages of plain lattice-work in which the
water jars were placed to cool, but as prosperity increased
and the homes of the people became more ornate, first
the edges of the lattice-work were cut so as to form a
pattern, and the little cages presently developed into
these large balconies, which in place of simple lattice-work
were enclosed by screens formed of innumerable
small pieces of turned wood built up so as to form
designs of great beauty, and behind which the ladies
of the harīm might sit and enjoy the air and the
animation of the streets unseen.

Unfortunately this beautiful work is fast disappearing;
visitors have discovered how adaptable it is to
home decoration, and the dealers in Cairo eagerly buy
up all that can be obtained to be converted into those
many articles of Arab furniture with which we are now
so familiar in England.

Picturesque as all the streets of Cairo are, they are
not all so animated as those I have described, and in
many quarters one may ride for miles through streets
so narrow that no vehicle could pass, and so silent as to
appear deserted. Very often their projecting upper
storeys almost touch across the street, and make it so
dark as to be almost like a tunnel. The handsome
doorways also are often half buried in the débris which
for three hundred years or more has been accumulating
in the narrow lanes, so much so that in many cases the
doors cannot be opened at all. There is an air of decay

and sadness in many of these quarters, for these half
ruinous houses, once the palaces of the Memlūks, are
now the habitations of the lowest of the people, and
poverty and squalor reign where once had been gaiety
and the fashionable life of Cairo.

A MOSQUE INTERIOR.

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CHAPTER IV
CAIRO—II

FASCINATING though the streets of Cairo are, continuous
sight-seeing in the heat and glare is tiring,
and it is always a pleasant change to escape from the
movement and bustle outside, and enjoy the quietude
of some cool mosque or palace courtyard.

Having described the exterior of the native house, it
will interest you to know what it is like inside.
Entering from the street, one usually has to descend
one or more steps to the entrance hall or passage,
which, in the case of the older houses, is invariably
built with at least one turning, so that no one from the
street could see into the interior court or garden should
the door be open, for privacy was always jealously
guarded by the Mohammedans. On one side is a
raised stone platform, seat for the “boab” or door-keeper,
and other servants of the house. Passing
through this passage, we reach the courtyard, which is
often very large and open to the sky, and into which
most of the windows of the house open. On one side
is a large recess or bay raised slightly above the pavement
of the court, and furnished with benches of carved
wood. The beams of the ceiling and handsome cornice
are richly ornamented with carving and illumination,

and the heavy beam which spans the entrance is supported
by a pillar of elegant shape and proportion.
Here, or in the “mandara”*

*Guest chamber.

inside the house, the
Arab host receives his male guests. On the most
shady side of the court are placed the “zīrs,” while
several doors lead to the harīm, as the ladies' quarters
are called, and the various offices and reception-rooms
of the house. These doors are always panelled in
elaborate geometrical designs, and the principal one,
which is reached by a short flight of stone steps, is set
in a lofty recess, the trefoil head of which is richly
carved. This gives access to the reception-room on the
first floor. One side is entirely open to the air, and
through three archways connected by a low balustrade
of perforated stonework overlooks the court. The
floor is paved in tiles or marble of various colours,
usually in some large design, in the centre of which is
a shallow basin in which a fountain plays. Round the
three walls is a raised daïs called “lewan,” covered with
rugs or mattresses, on which the guests recline. Little
recesses in the walls, which in the homes of the wealthy
are elaborately decorated with mosaic or tile work,
contain the water jars, and the “tisht wa abrīk,” or
water-jug and basin, used for the ceremonial washing of
hands before meat. The walls are usually plain, and
are only broken by the “dulab,” or wall cupboard, in
which pipes and other articles are kept. The ceiling is
heavily beamed and illuminated, or covered with
appliqué work in some rich design, the spaces variously
coloured or picked out in gold.

For cold weather another similar room is provided in
the interior of the house much as the one I have
described, but with the addition of a cupola or dome
over the fountain, while the large windows, in the
recesses of which couches are placed, are filled with the
beautiful “mushrabiyeh” work we have noticed from
the streets, or by stained glass set in perforated plaster
work. These rooms contain practically no furniture,
excepting the low “sahniyeh,” or tray, upon which
refreshments are served, and the copper brazier which
contains the charcoal fire, but from the ceiling hang
numbers of beautifully-wrought lamps of metal and
coloured glass. We can imagine how rich a scene such
a room would form when illuminated for the reception
of guests whose gorgeous Oriental costumes accord so
well with its handsome interior, while the finishing
touch is given by the performance of the musicians and
singing girls with which the guests are entertained,
leading one instinctively to call to mind many similar
scenes so wonderfully described in the “Arabian
Nights.” Many of the adventures of its heroes and
heroines are suggested by the secret passages which the
wall cupboards often hide, and may well have occurred
in houses we may visit to-day in Cairo, for, more than
any other, Cairo is the city of the “Arabian Nights,”
and in our walks one may at any moment meet the
hunchback or the pastry-cook, or the one-eyed calender,
whose adventures fills so many pages of that fascinating
book; while the summary justice and drastic
measures of the old khalifs are recalled by the many
instruments of torture or of death which may still

be seen hanging in the bazaars or from the city
gates.

Everyone who goes to Cairo is astonished at the
great number and beauty of its mosques, nearly every
street having one or more. Altogether there are some
500 or more in Cairo, as well as a great number of
lesser shrines where the people worship. I will tell
you how this comes about. We have often read in the
“Arabian Nights” in what a high-handed and frequently
unjust manner the property of some poor unfortunate
would be seized and given to another. This was very
much the case in Cairo in the olden days, and khalifs
and cadis, muftis and pashas, were not very scrupulous
about whose money or possessions they administered,
and even to-day in some Mohammedan countries it is
not always wise for a man to grow rich.

And so it was that in order to escape robbery in the
name of law many wealthy merchants preferred to build
during their lifetime a mosque or other public building,
while money left for this purpose was regarded as
sacred, and so the many beautiful sebiīls and mosques of
Cairo came into existence.

Egypt is so old that even the Roman times appear
new, and one is tempted to regard these glorious buildings
of the Mohammedan era as only of yesterday.
Yet many of the mosques which people visit and admire
are older than any church or cathedral in England.
We all think of Lincoln Cathedral or Westminster
Abbey as being very venerable buildings, and so they
are; but long before they were built the architecture
of the Mohammedans in Egypt had developed into a

perfect style, and produced many of the beautiful
mosques in which the Cairene prays to-day.

As a rule the mosque was also the tomb of its founder,
and the dome was designed as a canopy over his burial-place,
so that when a mosque is domed we know it to
be the mausoleum of some great man, while the beautiful
minaret or tower is common to all mosques, whether
tomb-mosque or not.

One of the most striking features of a mosque is the
doorway, which is placed in a deep arched recess, very
lofty and highly ornamented. A flight of stone steps
lead from the street to the door, which is often of hammered
bronze and green with age, and from a beam
which spans the recess hang curious little lamps, which
are lit on fête days.

At the top of the steps is a low railing or barrier
which no one may cross shod, for beyond this is holy
ground, where, as in the old days of Scripture, every
one must “put off his shoes from off his feet.”

The interior of the mosque is often very rich and
solemn. It is usually built in the form of a square
courtyard, open to the sky, in which is the “hanafieh,”
or tank, where “the faithful” wash before prayers.
The court is surrounded by cloisters supported by
innumerable pillars, or else lofty horseshoe arches
lead into deep bays or recesses, the eastern one of
which, called the “kibleh,” is the holiest, and corresponds
to our chancel, and in the centre of the wall
is the “mirhab,” or niche, which is in the direction of
Mecca, and the point towards which the Moslem prays.

Marble pavements, beautiful inlay of ivory and

wood, stained-glass windows, and elaborately decorated
ceilings and domes, beautify the interior, and go to form
a rich but subdued coloured scheme, solemn and restful,
and of which perhaps my picture will give you some
idea.

Attached to most mosques is a sebīl, also beautiful
in design. The lower story has a fountain for the use
of wayfarers; above, in a bright room open to the air,
is a little school, where the boys and girls of the quarter
learn to recite sundry passages from the Koran, and
which until recently was practically all the education
they received.

And now I must tell you something about the
bazaars, which, after the mosques, are the most interesting
relics in Cairo, and in many cases quite as old.
First, I may say that the word “bazaar” means “bargain,”
and as in the East a fixed price is unusual, and
anything is worth just what can be got for it, making a
purchase is generally a matter of patience, and one may
often spend days in acquiring some simple article of no
particular value. An exception is the trade in copper
ware, which is sold by weight, and it is a common
practice among the poorer classes to invest their small
savings in copper vessels of which they have the benefit,
and which can readily be sold again should money be
wanted. This trade is carried on in a very picturesque
street, called the “Sûk-en-Nahassīn,” or street of the
coppersmiths, where in tiny little shops 4 or 5 feet
square, most of the copper and brass industry of Cairo
is carried on. Opening out of this street are other
bazaars, many very ancient, and each built for some

special trade. So we have the shoemaker's bazaar,
the oil, spice, Persian and goldsmith's bazaars, and many
others, each different in character, and generally interesting
as architecture. The Persian bazaar is now nearly
demolished, and the “Khan Khalili,” once the centre
of the carpet trade, and the most beautiful of all, is
now split up into a number of small curio shops, for
the people are becoming Europeanized, and the Government,
alas! appear to have no interest in the preservation
of buildings of great historic interest and beauty.

One other feature of old Cairo I must notice before
leaving the subject. In the old days of long caravan
journeys, when merchants from Persia, India, and
China brought their wares to Cairo overland, it was
their custom to travel in strong companies capable of
resisting possible attacks by the wild desert tribes, and
in Cairo special “khans,” or inns, were built to accommodate
the different nationalities or trades. In the
central court the horses and camels of the different
caravans were tethered; surrounding it, and raised
several feet above the ground, were numerous bays in
which the goods were exposed for sale. Above, several
storeys provided sleeping accommodation for the travellers.
Like the bazaars, many of these khans are
very ancient, and are most interesting architecturally as
well as being fast disappearing relics of days which,
until the introduction of railways and steamers, perpetuated
in our own time conditions of life and trade
which had continued uninterruptedly since that time so
long ago when Joseph first built his store cities and
granaries in Egypt.

It is impossible in a few pages to convey any real
impression of Cairo, and I have only attempted to describe
a few of its most characteristic features. There
is, however, a great deal more to see—the citadel, built
by that same Saladīn against whom our crusaders fought in
Palestine, and which contains many ancient mosques and
other buildings of historic interest, and the curious well
called Joseph's Well, where, by means of many hundreds
of stone steps, the visitor descends into the heart of the
rock upon which the citadel is built, and which until
recently supplied it with water. Close by is the
parapet from which the last of the Memlūks made his
desperate leap for freedom, and became sole survivor
of his class so treacherously murdered by Mohammed
Ali; behind, crowning the Mokhattam Hills, is the
little fort built by Napoleon the Great to command the
city, while in every direction are views almost impossible
of description. To the east is that glorious
cemetery known as the “tombs of the khalifs,” which
contains many of the finest architectural gems of
mediæval Egypt; to the west is Fostat, the original
“city of the tent,” from which Cairo sprang, while over
the rubbish heaps of old Babylon, the Roman aqueduct
stretches towards Rhoda, that beautiful garden island
on whose banks tradition has it that the infant Moses
was found, while still further across the river, sail-dotted
and gleaming in the sun, the great Pyramids
mark the limit of the Nile Valley and the commencement
of that enormous desert which stretches to the
Atlantic Ocean. Looking south, past Memphis and
the Pyramids of Sakkara and Darshūr, the Nile loses

A STREET IN CAIRO.

itself in the distant heat haze, while to the north is
stretched before us the fertile plains of the Delta.

At our feet lies the wonderful Arab town, whose
domes and minarets rise high above the dwellings
which screen the streets from view, but whose seething
life is evidenced by the dull roar which reaches you
even at this distance. It is a city of sunlight, rich in
buildings of absorbing interest and ablaze with colour.
As for the people, ignorant and noisy though they are,
they have much good-humour and simple kindness in
their natures, and it is worth notice that a stranger
may walk about in safety in the most squalid quarters
of the city, and of what European capital could this
be said?

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CHAPTER V
THE NILE—1

I HAVE already told you how the land of Egypt was
first formed by the river which is still its source of life;
but before saying anything about the many monuments
on its banks or the floating life it carries, I want you
to look at the map with me for a moment, and see
what we can learn of the character of the river itself.

The Nile is one of the world's great rivers, and
is about 3,400 miles long. As you will see, it has its
source in the overflow from Lake Victoria Nyanza,
when it flows in a generally northern direction for
many hundreds of miles, receiving several tributaries,
such as the River Sobat and the Bahr-el-Ghazal, whose
waters, combining with the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White
Nile, as it is called, maintain the steady constant flow
of the river.

Eventually it is joined by the Bahr-el-Azrak, or Blue
Nile, which rises among the mountains of Abyssinia
and enters the White Nile at Khartūm.

During a great part of the year this branch is dry,
but filled by the melting snow and torrential rains of
early spring, the Blue Nile becomes a surging torrent,
and pours its muddy water, laden with alluvial soil and
forest débris, into the main river, causing it to rise

far above its ordinary level, and so bringing about that
annual overflow which in Egypt takes the place of rain.

It is certain that the ancient Egyptians knew nothing
as to the source of their great water-supply,*

*Many of the ancients believed the First Cataract to be its source.

their
knowledge being limited to the combined river which
begins at Khartūm, and for 1,750 miles flows uninterruptedly,
and, with the exception of the River Atbara,
without further tributaries until it reaches the sea; and
it is curious to think that for every one of these
1,750 miles the Nile is a slowly diminishing stream,
water-wheels, steam-pumps, and huge arterial canals
distributing its water in all directions over the land.
The large number of dams and regulators constructed
within recent years still further aid this distribution of
the Nile water, and it is a remarkable and almost incredible
fact that with the closing of the latest barrage
at Damietta, the Nile will be so completely controlled
that of all the flow of water which pours so magnificently
through the cataracts not a drop will reach the
sea!

One can easily understand the reverence with which
the ancients regarded their mysterious river, which,
rising no one knew where, year by year continued its
majestic flow, and by its regular inundations brought
wealth to the country, and it is no wonder that the
rising of its waters should have been the signal for a
series of religious and festal ceremonies, and led the
earlier inhabitants of Egypt to worship the river as a
god. Some of these festivals still continue, and it is

only a very few years since the annual sacrifice of a
young girl to the Nile in flood was prohibited by the
Khedive.

Though regular in its period of inundation, which
begins in June, its height varies from year to year;
4.0 to 4.5 feet constitutes a good Nile—anything less
than this implies a shortage of water and more or less
scanty crops; while should the Nile rise higher than
45 feet the result is often disastrous, embankments
being swept away, gardens devastated, while numbers of
houses and little hamlets built on the river-banks are
undermined and destroyed.

The whole river as known to the ancients was
navigable, and formed the great trade route by which
gold from Sheba, ivory, gum, ebony, and many other
commodities were brought into the country. The
armies of Pharaoh were carried by it on many warlike
expeditions, and by its means the Roman legions penetrated
to the limits of the then known world.

Hippopotamus and crocodile were numerous, and
afforded sport for the nobles, and though steamboats
and increased traffic have driven these away, on many a
temple wall are pictured incidents of the chase, as well
as records of their wars.

It is natural, therefore, that on the banks of their
mighty waterway the Egyptians should have erected
their greatest monuments, and the progress of the
Roman armies may still be traced by the ruins of their
fortified towns and castles, which, from many a rocky
islet or crag, command the river.

In another chapter I will tell you more about the

monuments; at present I wish to describe the Nile as it
appears to-day.

Our first view of the river is obtained as we cross
the Kasr-en-Nil bridge at Cairo to join one of the many
steamers by which visitors make the Nile trip, and
one's first impression is one of great beauty, especially
in the early morning. On the East Bank the old
houses of Būlak rise from the water's edge, and continue
in a series of old houses and places to the southern
end of Rhoda Island, whose tall palms and cypress-trees
rise above the silvery mist which still hangs upon the
water. On the west the high mud-banks are crowned
with palms and lebbek-trees as far as one can see.
Below the bridge, their white sails gleaming in the
early sun, hundreds of Nile boats are waiting in readiness
for the time appointed for its opening. On both
banks steady streams of people pass to and fro to fill
their water-skins or jars, while children paddle in the
stream or make mud-pies upon the bank as they will
do all the world over.

The water is very muddy and very smooth, and
reflects every object to perfection; for these early
mornings are almost invariably still, and the water is
unruffled by the north wind, which, with curious
regularity, springs up before midday.

I have already spoken of the high lateen sail of the Nile
boats, a form of sail which, though beautiful, has not
been devised for pictorial purposes. In every country
and in every sea peculiarities of build and rig are displayed
in native vessels. This is not the result of
whim or chance, but has been evolved as the result

of long experience of local requirements and conditions,
and in every case I think it may be taken that the
native boat is the one most suited to the conditions
under which it is employed. So on the Nile these lofty
sails are designed to overtop the high banks and buildings,
and so catch the breeze which would otherwise be
intercepted. The build of the boats also is peculiar;
they are very wide and flat bottomed, and the rudders
are unusually large, so as to enable them to turn
quickly in the narrow channels, which are often tortuous.
The bow rises in a splendid curve high out of the
water, and throws the spray clear of its low body, for
the Egyptian loads his boat very heavily, and I have
often seen them so deep in the water that a little wall of
mud has been added to the gunwale so as to keep out
the waves.

These native boats are of several kinds, from the
small “felucca,” or open boat used for ferry or pleasure
purposes, to the large “giassa,” or cargo boat of the
river. Some of these are very large, carrying two or
three enormous sails, while their cargoes of coal or
goods of various kinds are often as much as 150 tons;
yet they sail fast, and with a good breeze there are few
steamers on the river which could beat them.

The navigation of the Nile is often difficult, especially
when the river is falling, for each year it alters its
course and new sand-banks are formed, and it is not
always easy to decide which is the right channel to steer
for. The watermen, however, are very expert, and
can usually determine their course by the nature of the
ripple on the water, which varies according to its depth.

Frequently, however, from accidents of light or other
causes, it is not possible to gauge the river in this way,
so every boat is provided with long sounding-poles
called “midra,” by means of which men stationed at
either side of the bow feel their way through the
difficult channels, calling out the depths of water as they
go. In spite of these precautions, however, steamers
and sailing boats alike often stick fast upon some bank
which has, perhaps, been formed in a few hours by
a sudden shift of the wind or slight diversion of the
current, caused by the tumbling in of a portion of the
bank a little higher up-stream. Many of these boats
travel long distances, bringing cargoes of coal, cement,
machinery, cotton goods, and hardware from the coast
for distribution in the provinces of Upper Egypt, and on
their return voyage are laden with sugar-cane or corn,
and many other articles of produce and native manufacture.
As night falls, they usually moor alongside
the bank, when fires are lit, and the crews prepare their
simple evening meal. The supply of food, it may be
noticed, is usually kept in a bag, which is slung from
the rigging, or a short post where all can see it and no
one be able to take advantage of another by feeding
surreptitiously.

It is often a pretty sight when several of these boats
are moored together, when, their day's work over, their
crews will gather round the fires, and to the accompaniment
of tambourine or drum sing songs or recite
stories until it is time to sleep. No sleeping accommodation
is provided, and all the hardy boatman does
is to wrap his cloak about his head and lie among what-ever

portion of the cargo is least hard and offers most
protection from the wind.

The Nile banks themselves are interesting. In
colour and texture rather like chocolate, they are cut
into terraces by the different levels of the water, while
the lapping of the waves is perpetually undermining
them, so that huge slabs of the rich alluvial mud are
continually falling away into the river. Each of these
terraces, as it emerges from the receding water, is planted
with beans or melons by the thrifty farmer, while the
sand-banks forming in the river will presently also be
under cultivation, the natives claiming them while still
covered with water, their claims being staked by Indian-corn
stalks or palm-branches.

Like the canal banks in the Delta, the Nile banks
form the great highway for Upper Egypt, and at all
times of the day one may see the people and their
animals silhouetted against the sky as they pass to and
fro between their villages. In the neighbourhood of
large towns, or such villages as hold a weekly market,
the banks are very animated, and for many miles are
thronged with people from the surrounding district,
some walking, others riding on camels, donkeys, or
buffaloes, pressing towards the market to enjoy the
show, or sell the many articles of produce with which
they are laden.

At the water's edge herds of buffaloes wallow in the
river, tended by a little boy who stares stolidly at your
steamer as it passes or, in great excitement, chases your
vessel and vainly cries for “backshish.”*

*“A gift.”

At frequent

A WATERING PLACE. Page 43.

intervals are the water-wheels and “shadūfs,” which
raise the water to the level of the fields, and these are
such important adjuncts of the farm that I must
describe them. The “shadūf” is one of the oldest
and one of the simplest methods of raising water in
existence. A long pole is balanced on a short beam
supported by two columns of mud, about 4 or 5 feet
high, erected at the end of the water channel to be supplied;
6 feet or more below it is the pool or basin cut
in the river-bank, and which is kept supplied with water
by a little channel from the river. One end of the pole
is weighted by a big lump of mud; from the other
a leather bucket is suspended by means of a rope of
straw, or a second and lighter pole. In order to raise
the water, the shadūf worker, bending his weight upon
the rope, lowers the bucket into the basin below, which,
when filled, is easily raised by the balancing weight,
and is emptied into the channel above. As the river
falls the basin can no longer be fed by the river, so a
second “shadūf” is erected in order to keep the first
supplied, and in low Nile it is quite a common sight to
see four of these “shadūfs,” one above the other, employed
in raising the water from the river-level to the
high bank above. This work is, perhaps, the most
arduous of any farm labour, and the workers are almost
entirely naked as they toil in the sun, while a screen of
cornstalks is often placed to protect them from the
cold north wind. The water-wheels, or “sakia,” as
they are called, are of two kinds, and both ingenious.
Each consists of a large wheel placed horizontally, which
is turned by one or more bullocks; the spokes of this

wheel project as cogs, so as to turn another wheel placed
below it at right angles. When used in the fields, the
rim of this second wheel is hollow and divided into
segments, each with a mouth or opening. As the
wheel revolves its lower rim is submerged in the well,
filling its segments with water, which, as they reach the
top, empty their contents sideways into a trough, which
carries the water to the little “genena,” or watercourse,
which supplies the fields. Those used on the river-bank,
however, are too far from the water for such a
wheel to be of use, so in place of the hollow rim the
second wheel also has cogs, on which revolves an endless
chain of rope to which earthen pots are attached,
and whose length may be altered to suit the varying
levels of the river. Some of these “sakias” are very
pretty, as they are nearly always shaded by trees of
some kind as a protection to the oxen who work them.

One of the prettiest incidents of all, however, is the
village watering-place, where morning and evening the
women and children of the town congregate to fill their
water-pots, wash their clothing or utensils, and enjoy a
chat. It is pretty to watch them as they come and go;
often desperately poor, they wear their ragged, dust-soiled
clothing with a queenly grace, for their lifelong
habit of carrying burdens upon their heads, and their
freedom from confining garments, have given them a
carriage which women in this country might well envy.
Though generally dark-skinned and toil-worn, many
of the younger women are beautiful, while all have
shapely and delicately-formed limbs, and eyes and teeth
of great beauty. At the water's edge the children

are engaged in scrubbing cooking-pots and other
utensils, while their elders are employed in washing
their clothing or domestic linen, when, after perhaps
enjoying a bathe themselves, their water-pots are filled,
and, struggling up the steep bank, they disappear towards
the village. These water-pots, by the way, are two-handled,
and pretty in shape, and are always slightly
conical at the base, so that they are able to stand on the
shelving river-banks without falling, and for the same
reason are nearly always carried slightly sideways on the
head. It is pretty to see the wonderful sense of balance
these girls display in carrying their water-pots, which
they seldom touch with their hand, and it is surprising
also what great weights even young girls are able to
support, for a “balass” filled with water is often a load
too heavy for her to raise to her head without the
assistance of another. Like all the poor, they are
always obliging to each other, and I recently witnessed
a pathetic sight at one of these village watering-places,
when an old woman, too infirm to carry her “balass”
herself, was with difficulty struggling down the bank
and leading a blind man, who bore her burden for her.

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CHAPTER VI
THE NILE—II

THE Nile varies considerably in width, from a quarter
of a mile, as in the deep channel before Cairo, to two
miles or more higher up, where the wide space between
its high banks, filled to the brim during high Nile, has
almost the appearance of a sea; but as the river falls
it is studded with islands, many of them of considerable
extent, and often under permanent cultivation. The
navigable channel is close under one bank or other,
though the shallow water which covers the shoals
gives the river the appearance of being considerably
larger than it really is. In character the scenery
is generally placid, and the smooth water, shimmering
under the warm sun which edges the sand-banks
with a gleaming line of silver, is hardly broken
by a ripple. I always think the river prettiest
when the Nile is low and the sand-banks appear.
In the shallows pelicans, ibis, heron, and stork are
fishing together without interfering with each other,
while large flights of wild-duck rise splashing from the
stream. Eagles soar aloft, or, with the vultures, alight
upon a sand-bank to dispute the possession of some
carcass with the jackals and the foxes. Water wagtails
flit along the shore, or in the most friendly manner

board your steamer to feed on the crumbs from your
tea-table, while large numbers of gay-plumaged king-fishers
dart in and out from their nests tunnelled far
into the precipitous face of the river-bank.

On either side are the eternal hills, beautiful under
any effect of light.

It is astonishing how infinitely varied the Nile
scenery is according to the time of day. In the early
morning, mists often hang upon the water, and the air
is bitterly cold, for these sandy wastes which abut upon
the Nile retain little heat by night. Above the cool
green of the banks the high hills rise mysteriously
purple against the sunrise, or catch the first gleam or
gold on their rugged bluffs.

As the sun mounts higher a delicate pink tinge
suffuses all, and the hanging mists are dispersed by the
growing heat to form little flecks of white which float
in the deep blue of the sky above you. Meanwhile
the life of the river and the fields has recommenced,
and the banks again become animated, and innumerable
Nile boats dot the surface of the stream.

At midday the landscape is enveloped in a white
heat, while the bluffs and buttresses of the rocks cast
deep purple shadows on the sweeping sand-drifts which
lie against their base. It is a drowsy effect of silver
and grey, when Nature seems asleep and man and beast
alike are inclined to slumber.

Towards evening, glorified by the warm lights, how
rich in colour the scenery becomes! The western
banks, crowned by dense masses of foliage, whose
green appears almost black against the sunset, are reflected

in the water below, its dark surface broken by
an occasional ripple and little masses of foam which
have drifted down from the cataract hundreds of miles
away. Beyond the belt of trees the minarets of some
distant village are clear cut against the sky, for the
air is so pure that distance seems to be annihilated.
Looking east, the bold cliffs face the full glory of the
sunset, and display a wonderful transformation of
colour, as the white or biscuit-coloured rocks reflect the
slowly changing colour of the light. They gradually
become enveloped in a ruddy glow, in which the
shadows of projections appear an aerial blue, and seem
to melt imperceptibly into the glowing sky above
them. Gradually a pearly shadow creeps along the
base of the cliffs or covers the whole range, and one
would suppose that the glory of the sunset was past.
In about a quarter of an hour, however, commences
the most beautiful transformation of all, and one which
I think is peculiar to the Nile Valley, for a second
glow, more beautiful and more ethereal than the first,
overspreads the hills, which shine like things translucent
against the purple earth-shadow which slowly mounts
in the eastern sky. The sails of the boats on the river
meanwhile have taken on a tint like old ivory, while
perhaps a full moon appears above the hill-tops, and in
twisting bars of silver is reflected in the gently moving
water at your feet.

The Nile is not always in so gentle a mood as this,
however, for on most days a strong north wind
disturbs the water, and changes the placid river into
one of sparkling animation. The strong wind, meeting

the current of the stream, breaks the water into waves
which are foam-flecked and dash against the muddy
cliffs and sand-banks, while the quickly sailing boats
bend to the wind, and from their bluff and brightly-painted
bows toss the sprays high into the air, or turn
the water from their sides in a creamy cataract. The
sky also is flecked with rounded little wind-clouds,
whose undersides are alternately grey or orange as
they pass over the cultivated land or desert rock, whose
colour they partially reflect. The colour of the water
also becomes very varied, for the turn of each wave
reflects something of the blue sky above, and the sun
shines orange through the muddy water as it curls,
while further variety of tint is given by the passing
cloud-shadows and the intense blueness of the smoother
patches which lie upon the partially covered sand-spits.
This always forms a gay scene, for the river is crowded
with vessels which sail quickly, and take every advantage
of the favourable wind. Sometimes the north
wind becomes dangerous in its energy, and wrecks are
not infrequent, while from the south-west, at certain
periods of the year, comes the hot “khamsīn” wind,
which, lashing the water into fury, and filling the air with
dust, renders navigation almost impossible.

Some of the cargoes carried by these Nile boats are
worth describing, and large numbers are employed in
carrying “tibbin” from the farms to the larger towns.
“Tibbin” is the chopped straw upon which horses and
cattle in the towns are mainly fed, and it is loaded on
to the boats in a huge pyramidical pile carried upon
planks which considerably overhang the boat's sides.

The steersman is placed upon the top of this stack, and
is enabled to guide his vessel by a long pole lashed to
the tiller, and it is curious to notice that the “tibbin,”
though finely chopped, does not appear to blow away.

In a somewhat similar manner the immense quantity
of balass and other water-pots, which are manufactured
at Girgeh, Sohag, and other places on the Upper Nile,
are transported down-stream. In this case, however,
large beams of wood are laid across the boats, which are
often loaded in couples lashed together, and from which
are slung nets upon which the water-pots are piled to
the height of 10 or 12 feet, and one may often meet
long processions of these boats slowly drifting down
stream to Assiut or Cairo.

Another frequent cargo is sugar-cane, perhaps the
greatest industry of the upper river, and at Manfalut,
Rhoda, Magaga, and many other places large sugar
factories have sprung into existence of late years. The
trade is a very profitable one for Egypt, but, unfortunately,
their tall chimneys and ugly factories,
which are always built close to the Nile bank, are doing
much to spoil the beauties of the river, and, worst of
all, noisy little steam tugs and huge iron barges are
yearly becoming more numerous.

Though, as we have seen, crocodiles have long ago
left the Lower Nile, the river abounds in fish, and from
the terraces of its banks one may constantly see fishermen
throwing their hand-nets, while in the shallows and
backwaters of the river, drag-nets are frequently employed.
I recently watched the operation, which I will
describe. Beginning at the lower end of the reach,

FIRST CATARACT FROM ELEPHANTINE ISLAND. page 53.

seven men were employed in working the net, three at
either end to haul it, while another, wading in the
middle, supported it at the centre. Meanwhile two
of their party had run far up the banks, one on either
side, and then, entering the water, slowly descended
towards the nets, shouting and beating the water with
sticks, thus driving the fish towards the nets. Usually
the fish so caught are small, or of only moderate size,
though I have frequently seen exposed for sale in the
markets fish weighing upwards of 300 pounds and
6 feet or more in length.

The Nile Valley is comparatively wide for a considerable
distance above Cairo, and while the hills which
fringe the Lybian desert are generally in view in the
distance, those on the eastern side gradually close in
upon the river as we ascend, and in many places, such
as Gibel Kasr-es-Saad, or “the castle of the hunter,”
Feshun, or Gibel Abou Fedr, rise almost perpendicularly
from the river to the height of 1,000 feet or
more, and although considerable areas of cultivated land
are to be found at intervals on the eastern side, practically
all the agricultural land of Upper Egypt lies on the
western bank of the river.

The rock of which the hills are formed is limestone,
and it is a very dazzling sight as you pass some of these
precipitous cliffs in the brilliant sunshine, especially
where the quarrymen are working and the sunburnt
outside has been removed, exposing the pure whiteness
of the stone.

Along the narrow bank of shingle at the foot of the
cliffs flocks of dark-coated sheep and goats wander

in search of such scant herbage as may be found along
the water's edge, and many native boats lie along the
banks loading the stone extracted by the quarrymen,
who look like flies on the face of the rock high above
you. Enormous quantities of stone are required for
the building of the various dams and locks on the river,
as well as for the making of embankments and “spurs.”
These “spurs” are little embankments which project
into the river at a slight angle pointing down-stream,
and are made in order to turn the direction of the
current towards the middle of the river, and so protect
the banks from the scour of the water; for each year
a portion of the banks is lost, and in many places large
numbers of palm-trees and dwellings are swept away,
for the native seems incapable of learning how unwise it
is to build at the water's edge. Sometimes whole fields
are washed away by the flood, and the soil, carried
down-stream, forms a new island, or is perhaps deposited
on the opposite side of the river many miles below.
When this occurs, the new land so formed is held to be
the property of the farmer or landowner who has
suffered loss.

These changes of the river-banks are often rapid.
One year vessels may discharge their passengers or
cargoes upon the bank whereon some town or village is
built, and which the following year may be separated
from the river by fields many acres in extent; and each
year in going up the Nile one may notice striking
changes in this way.

As the Nile winds in its course the rocky hills on
either side alternately approach close to the river,

revealing a succession of rock-hewn tombs or ancient
monasteries, or recede far into the distance, half
hidden in the vegetation of the arable land; but, speaking
generally, the river flows principally on the eastern side
of the valley, while all the large towns, such as Wasta,
Minyeh, Assiut, or Girgeh are built upon the western
bank, where the largest area of fertility is situated.

As we ascend the river the vegetation slowly changes;
cotton and wheat, so freely grown in the Delta, give
place to sugar-cane and Indian corn, and the feathery
foliage of the sunt and mimosa trees is more in evidence
than the more richly clad lebbek or sycamore. In
many places are fields of the large-leaved castor-oil
plants, whose crimson flower contrasts with the delicately
tinted blossoms of the poppies which, for the sake of
their opium, are grown upon the shelving banks. The
dôm palm also is a new growth, and denotes our
approach to tropical regions, while the type and
costume of the people have undergone a change, for they
are darker and broader in feature than the people of
Lower Egypt, and the prevailing colour of their clothing
is a dark brown, the natural colour of their sheep, from
whose wool their heavy homespun cloth is made.

The limestone hills which have been our companions
since leaving Cairo also disappear, and a little
way above Luxor low hills of sandstone closely confine
the river in a very narrow channel. This is the Gibel
Silsileh, which from the earliest times has supplied the
stone of which the temples are built. These celebrated
quarries produce the finest stone in the country, and
have always been worked in the most scientific and

methodical manner, deep cuttings following the veins
of good stone which only was extracted, while the river
front has remained practically untouched—a contrast
to the modern method of quarrying, where the most
striking bluffs upon the Nile are being recklessly
blown away, causing an enormous waste of material as
well as seriously affecting the beauty of the scenery.

[Back to top]

CHAPTER VII
THE NILE—III

AFTER a river journey of 583 miles from Cairo,
Assuan is reached—limit of Egypt proper and the
beginning of an entirely new phase of Nile scenery.
Cultivation in any large sense has been left behind, and
we are now in Nubia, a land of rock and sand, sparsely
inhabited, and, excepting in very small patches along
the water's edge, producing no crops.

Built at the northern end of what is called the first
cataract, Assuan is perhaps the most interesting and
prettily-situated town in Upper Egypt. Facing the
green island of Elephantine and the golden sand-drifts
which cover the low range of hills across the river,
Assuan stretches along the river-bank, its white buildings
partly screened by the avenue of palms and lebbek-trees
which shade its principal street, while to the north
are dense groves of date-palms, past which the Nile
sweeps in a splendid curve and is lost to sight among
the hills. Behind, beyond its open-air markets and the
picturesque camp of the Besharīn, the desert stretches
unbroken to the shores of the Red Sea.

The bazaars of Assuan are extremely picturesque,
and are covered almost throughout their length; the
lanes which constitute them are narrow and winding,

forming enticing vistas whose distances are emphasized
by the occasional glints of sunlight which break in
upon their generally subdued light. In the shops are
exposed for sale all those various goods and commodities
which native life demands; but visitors are
mostly attracted by the stalls of the curio sellers, who
display a strange medley of coloured beads and baskets,
rich embroideries, stuffed animals, and large quantities
of arms and armour, so-called trophies of the wars in
the Sūdan. Though most of these relics are spurious,
genuine helmets and coats of mail of old Persian and
Saracenic times may occasionally be found, while large
numbers of spears and swords are undoubtedly of
Dervish manufacture.

For most Englishmen Assuan has also a tragic
interest in its association with the expedition for the
relief of General Gordon, and the subsequent Mahdist
wars, when regiment after regiment of British soldiers
passed through her streets on their way towards those
burning deserts from which so many of them were destined
never to return. Those were exciting, if anxious,
days for Assuan, and many visitors will remember how,
some years ago, the presence of Dervish horsemen in
its immediate vicinity rendered it unsafe for them to
venture outside the town. Those days are happily over,
and there is now little use for the Egyptian forts which
to the south and east guarded the little frontier town.

From a ruined Roman fort which crowns a low hill
at the south end of the town we have our first view of
the cataract, and the sudden change in the character
of the scenery is remarkable.

In place of the broad fields and mountains to which
we have been accustomed, the river here flows in a
basin formed by low, precipitous hills, and is broken by
innumerable rocky islets on different levels, which form
the series of rapids and little cascades which give the
cataract its name. These little islets are formed by a
collection of boulders of red granite filled in with silt,
and have a very strange effect, for the boulders are
rounded by the action of the water, which, combined
with the effect of the hot sun, has caused the red stone
to become coated with a hard skin, black and smooth to
touch, just as though they had been black-leaded.

Many of the islets are simply rocks of curious shapes
which jut out of the water; others are large enough to
be partially cultivated, and their little patches of green
are peculiarly vivid in contrast with the rock and sand
which form their setting.

The scenery is wildly fantastic, for while the rocks
which form the western bank are almost entirely covered
by the golden sand-drifts which pour over them, smooth
as satin, to the water's edge, those on the east are sunbaked
and forbidding, a huge agglomeration of boulders
piled one upon the other and partially covered by shingle,
which crackle under foot like clinkers; between are the
islands, many crowned by a hut or pigeon-cote, and
with their greenery often perfectly reflected in the
rapidly flowing water.

Though navigation here is difficult, and a strong
breeze is necessary to enable vessels to ascend the river,
boat sailing is a popular feature of European life in
Assuan, a special kind of sailing-boat being kept for

visitors, who organize regattas and enjoy many a
pleasant picnic beneath the shade of the dôm palms or
mimosa-trees which grow among the rocks.

In the old days the great excursion from Assuan was
by water to the “Great Gate,” as the principal rapid
was called, often a difficult matter to accomplish. Today
the great dam has replaced it as the object of a sail.

This is the greatest engineering work of the kind
ever constructed, and spans the Nile Valley at the head
of the cataract basin. It is a mile and a quarter in
length, and the river, which is raised in level about
66 feet, pours through a great number of sluice-gates
which are opened or shut according to the season of the
year and the necessities of irrigation or navigation.

Behind, the steep valley is filled, and forms a huge
lake extending eighty miles to the south, and many
pretty villages have been submerged, while of the date-groves
which surrounded them the crests of the higher
trees alone appear above water. The green island of
Philae also is engulfed, and of the beautiful temple of
Isis built upon it only the upper portion is visible.

Below the dam activity of many kinds characterizes
the Nile, as does the sound of rushing water the Cataract
basin. Above, silence reigns, for the huge volume of
stored water lies inert between its rugged banks.

One's first thought is one of sadness, for everywhere
the tree-tops, often barely showing above water, seem to
mourn the little villages and graveyards which lie
below, and as yet no fresh verdure has appeared to give
the banks the life and beauty they formerly had.

As at the cataract, here also the hills are simply

THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH FROM THE DESERT. Page 61.

jumbled heaps of granite boulders, fantastically piled
one upon the other, barren and naked, and without any
vegetable growth to soften their forbidding wildness.

On many rocky islands are the ruined mud buildings
of the Romans, and more than one village, once
populous, lies deserted and abandoned upon some
promontory which is now surrounded by the flood.

Though a general sense of mournfulness pervades it,
the scenery has much variety and beauty, nor have all
the villages been destroyed; many had already been
built far above the present water-level, while others
have sprung up to take the place of those submerged.
These again present new features to the traveller, for,
unlike many we have seen below the cataract, these
Nubian dwellings are well built, the mud walls being
neatly smoothed and often painted. The roofs are
peculiar, being in the form of well-constructed semicircular
arches, all of mud, and in many cases the tops
of the outside walls are adorned by a kind of balustrade
of open brickwork.

Half hidden among the rocks the native house has
often the appearance of some temple pylon, and seems
to fit the landscape in a peculiar way, for no form of
building harmonizes so well with the Egyptian scenery
as the temple. Whether or not the native unconsciously
copies the ancient structure I cannot say, but
anyone visiting Egypt must often be struck by the
resemblance, particularly when, as is often the case, the
little house is surmounted by pigeon-cotes, which in
form are so like the temple towers.

Like their homes, the inhabitants of Nubia also differ

from those of Egypt proper, for they are Berbers and
more of the Arab type, handsome, and with regular
features and ruddy in complexion, while many of the
small children, who, excepting for a few strings of beads,
run about naked, are extremely beautiful. There is
one curious fact about these villages which no one
could fail to notice, for while there are always plenty of
women and children to be seen, there are no men, and
though practically there is no cultivation, food appears
to be abundant!

The reason is that these people are so nice in
character and generally so trustworthy, that the men
are all employed in Cairo and elsewhere as domestic
servants, or “syces,”*

*Grooms.

and though they themselves may
not see their homes for years, their wages are good,
and so they are able to send food and clothing in
plenty to their families.

As we ascend the river and approach the limit of the
stored water, the banks again become fertile, for here
the water is simply maintained at flood-level, and has
not had the same disastrous effect as lower down the
valley. Here the scenery is very striking; bold rocks
jut out from the beautiful golden sand-drifts which
often pour into the river itself, or in sharp contrast
terminate in the brilliant line of green which fringes
the banks. All around, their ruggedness softened in
the warm light, are the curious, conical mountains of
Nubia, and on the eastern side large groves of palms,
green fields, and water-wheels make up as pretty a
scene as any in Egypt; presently, no doubt, cultivation

will again appear on the barren margins of the lake
above the dam and restore to it the touch of beauty it
formerly had.

It is intended still further to raise the dam, and the
higher level of water then maintained will not only entirely
submerge Philae, but practically all the villages now
existing on its banks, as well as partially inundating
many interesting temples of Roman origin. It seems a
pity that so beautiful a temple as Philae should be lost,
and one feels sorry that the villages and palm-groves of
Nubia should be destroyed, but necessity knows no
law, and each year water is required in greater quantities,
as the area of cultivation below extends, while the
villagers are amply compensated by the Government for
their loss.

It is interesting to stand upon the dam and see the
pent-up water pour through the sluices to form huge
domes of hissing water which toss their sprays high into
the air, and whose roar may be heard many miles away,
while on the rocky islands down-stream numbers of
natives are watching the rushing stream, ready to dive
in and secure the numbers of fish of various sizes which
are drawn through the sluice-gates and are stunned or
killed under the great pressure of water.

There are many other interests in Assuan, which is
a delightful place to visit. The desert rides, the ancient
quarries where the temple obelisks were hewn, the
camp of the beautiful Besharīn, and the weirdly pictorial
Cufic cemetery which winds so far along the
barren valley in which the river once flowed—each have
their attraction, which varies with the changing light,

while many a happy hour may be spent in watching the
many coloured lizards which play among the rocks, the
curious mantis and twig-insects, and other strange
specimens of insect life which abound here; while,
should you weary of sight-seeing and the glare of light,
quietude and repose may be found among the fruit-laden
fig-trees of Kitchener's Island, or in the shady
gardens of Elephantine.

Such in brief is the Nile from Cairo to the first
cataract, though a great deal more might be written on
this subject. The various towns and villages passed
are often very pretty, and some are of great age, and
surrounded by very interesting remains. Then there
is the enjoyment of the many excursions on donkey-back
to visit some tomb or temple, the amusement of
bargaining for trophies or curios at the various landing-places,
and a host of other interests which go to make
the trip up the Nile one of the most fascinating possible,
and which prevent any weariness of mind in the
passenger. But to write fully about all these things is
beyond the scope of this small book, though some day,
perhaps, many of my readers may have the opportunity
of seeing it all for themselves, and so fill in the spaces
my short narrative must necessarily leave.

[Back to top]

CHAPTER VIII
THE MONUMENTS

IF asked to name any one thing which more than any
other typified Egypt, the average boy or girl would at
once reply, “The pyramids,” and rightly, for though
pyramids have been built in other countries, this particular
form of structure has always been regarded as
peculiarly Egyptian, and was selected by the designers
of its first postage stamp as the emblem of the country.

In speaking of the pyramids it is always the pyramids
of Ghizeh which are meant, for though there are a
great many other pyramids in Egypt these are the
largest, and being built upon the desert plateau, form
such a commanding group that they dominate the
landscape for miles around. All visitors to Egypt,
moreover, are not able to go up the Nile or become
acquainted with the temples, but everyone sees the
pyramids and sphinx, which are close to Cairo, and
easily reached by electric car, so to the great majority
of people who visit the country they represent not only
the antiquity of Egypt, but of the world.

The great pyramid of Cheops, though commenced in
3733 B.C., is not the oldest monument in Egypt; the
step pyramid of Sakkara is of earlier date, while the
origin of the sphinx is lost in obscurity. The pyramid,

however, is of immense size, and leaves an abiding impression
upon the minds of everyone who has seen it,
or climbed its rugged sides. Figures convey little, I
am afraid, but when I tell you that each of its sides was
originally 755 feet in length and its height 481 feet, or
60 feet higher than the cross of St. Paul's, and that
gangs of men, 100,000 in each, were engaged for
twenty years in its construction, some idea of its immensity
may be formed. At one time the pyramids
were covered with polished stone, but this has all been
removed and has been used in building the mosques of
Cairo, and to-day its exterior is a series of steps, each
4 to 6 feet in height, formed by the enormous blocks
of limestone of which it is built.

Designed as a tomb, it has various interior chambers
and passages, but it was long ago ransacked by the
Persians, and later by the Romans and Arabs, so that of
whatever treasure it may once have contained, nothing
now remains but the huge stone sarcophagus or coffin of
the King.

The second pyramid, built by Chephron 3666 B.C., is
little less in size, and still has a little of the outer covering
at its apex. All around these two great pyramids
are grouped a number of others, while the rock is
honeycombed with tombs, and practically from here to
the first cataract the belt of rocky hills which rise so
abruptly from the Nile Valley is one continuous cemetery,
only a small portion of which has so far been
explored.

Close by is the sphinx, the oldest of known monuments.
Hewn out of the solid rock, its enormous head

and shoulders rise above the sand which periodically
buries it, and, battered though it has been by Mohammed
Ali's artillery, the expression of its face, as it gazes
across the fertile plain towards the sunrise, is one of
calm inscrutability, difficult to describe, but which fascinates
the beholder.

From the plateau on which these pyramids are built
may be seen successively the pyramids of Abousīr,
Sakkara, and Darshūr, and far in the distance the
curious and lonely pyramid of Medūm These are all
built on the edge of the desert, which impinges on the
cultivated land so abruptly that it is almost possible to
stand with one foot in the desert and the other in the fields.

In addition to the pyramids, Sakkara has many
tombs of the greatest interest, two of which I will
describe.

One is called the “Serapeum,” or tomb of the bulls.
Here, each in its huge granite coffin, the mummies of
the sacred bulls, for so long worshipped at Memphis,
have been buried.

The tomb consists of a long gallery excavated in the
rock below ground, on either side of which are recesses
just large enough to contain the coffins, each of which is
composed of a single block of stone 13 feet by 11 by 8, and
which, with their contents, must have been of enormous
weight, and yet they have been lowered into position
in the vaults without damage. The tomb, however,
was rifled long ago, and all the sarcophagi are now
empty. There is one very curious fact about this tomb
which I must mention, for though below ground it is

so intensely hot that the heat and glare of the desert as
you emerge appears relatively cool.

While the Serapeum is a triumph of engineering, the
neighbouring tomb of Thi is of rare beauty, for though
its design is simple, the walls, which are of fine limestone,
are covered by panels enclosing carvings in low
relief, representing every kind of agricultural pursuits,
as well as fishing and hunting scenes. The carving is
exquisitely wrought, while the various animals depicted
—wild fowl, buffaloes, antelopes, or geese—are perfect
in drawing and true in action.

Close to Sakkara are the dense palm-groves of
Bedrashên, which surround and cover the site of
ancient Memphis. At one time the most important of
Egypt's capitals, Memphis has almost completely disappeared
into the soft and yielding earth, and little
trace of the former city now remains beyond a few
stones and the colossal statue of Rameses II., one of the
oppressors of Israel, which now lies prostrate and broken
on the ground.

Though there have been many ancient cities in the
Delta, little of them now remains to be seen, for the
land is constantly under irrigation, and in course of
time most of their heavy stone buildings have sunk
into the soft ground and become completely covered by
deposits of mud. So, as at Memphis, all that now
remains of ancient Heliopolis, or On, is one granite
obelisk, standing alone in the fields; while at other
places, such as Tamai or Bête-el-Haga near Mansūrah,
practically nothing now remains above ground.

In Upper Egypt, where arable land was scarce and

THE COLOSSI OF THEBES—MOONRISE. Page 70.

the desert close at hand, the temples have generally
been built on firmer foundations, and many are still in
a very perfect state of preservation, though the majority
were ruined by the great earthquake of 27 B.C.

The first temple visited on the Nile trip is Dendereh,
in itself perhaps not of the greatest historical value, as
it is only about 2,000 years of age, which for Egypt is
quite modern; but it has two points of interest for all.
First, its association with Cleopatra, who, with her son,
is depicted on the sculptured walls; and, secondly,
because it is in such a fine state of preservation that the
visitor receives a very real idea of what an Egyptian
temple was like.

First let me describe the general plan of a temple;
it is usually approached by a series of gateways called
pylons or pro-pylons, two lofty towers with overhanging
cornices, between which is the gate itself, and by
whose terrace they are connected. Between these
different pylons is generally a pro-naos, or avenue of
sphinxes, which, on either side, face the causeway which
leads to the final gate which gives entrance to the
temple proper. In front of the pylons were flag-staffs,
and the lofty obelisks (one of which now adorns the
Thames Embankment) inscribed with deeply - cut
hieroglyphic writing glorifying the King, whose colossal
statues were often placed between them.

Each of the gate ways, and the walls of the temple
itself, are covered with inscriptions, which give it a very
rich effect, their strong shadows and reflected lights
breaking up the plain surface of the walls in a most
decorative way, and giving colour to their otherwise

plain exterior. Another point worth notice is that this
succession of gateways becomes gradually larger and
more ornate, so that those entering are impressed with
a growing sense of wonder and admiration, which is not
lessened on their return when the diminishing size of
the towers serves to accentuate the idea of distance
and immensity.

One of the striking features in the structure of these
buildings is that while the inside walls of tower or
temple are perpendicular, the outside walls are sloping.
This was intended to give stability to the structure,
which in modern buildings is imparted by their
buttresses; but in the case of the temples it has a
further value in that it adds greatly to the feeling of
massive dignity which was the main principle of their
design.

Entering the temple we find an open courtyard
surrounded by a covered colonnade, the pillars often
being made in the form of statues of its founder. This
court, which is usually large, and open to the sky, was
designed to accommodate the large concourse of people
which would so often assemble to witness some
gorgeous temple service, and beyond, through the
gloomy but impressive hypostyle*

*One with a roof supported by columns.

hall, lay the shrine
of the god or goddess to whom the temple was dedicated
and the dark corridors and chambers in which
the priests conducted their mystic rites.

In a peculiar way the temple of Dendereh impresses
with a sense of mystic dignity, for though the pylons
and obelisks have gone, and its outside precincts are

smothered in a mass of Roman débris, the hypostyle
hall which we enter is perhaps more impressive than
any other interior in Egypt. The massive stone roof,
decorated with illumination and its celebrated zodiac, is
supported by eighteen huge columns, each capped by
the head of the goddess Hathor, to whom the temple
is dedicated, while columns and walls alike are covered
with decorative inscriptions.

Through the mysterious gloom we pass through
lofty doorways, which lead to the shrine or the many
priests' chambers, which, entirely dark, open from the
corridors.

Though it has been partially buried for centuries, and
the smoke of gipsy fires has blackened much of its
illuminated vault, enough of the original colour by
which columns and architraves were originally enriched
still remains to show us how gorgeous a building it
once had been. There are a great many temples in
Egypt of greater importance than Dendereh, but though
Edfu, for example, is quite as perfect and much larger,
it has not quite the same fascination. Others are more
beautiful perhaps, and few Greek temples display
more grace of ornament than Kom Ombo or submerged
Philae, while the simple beauty of Luxor or the
immensity of the ruins of Karnac impress one in a
manner quite different from the religious feeling inspired
by gloomy Dendereh.

I have previously spoken of the hum of bees in the
fields, but here we find their nests; for plastered over
the cornice, and filling a large portion of the deeply-cut
inscriptions, are the curious mud homes of the wild bees,

who work on industriously, regardless of the attacks of
the hundreds of bee-eaters*

*A small bird about the size of a sparrow.

which feed upon them.
Bees are not the only occupants of the temple, however
for swallows, pigeons, and owls nest in their quiet
interiors, and the dark passages and crypts are alive
with bats.

There are many other temples in Egypt of which I
would like to tell you had I room to do so, but you
may presently read more about them in books specially
devoted to this subject. At present I want to say a
few words about hieroglyphs, which I have frequently
mentioned.

Hieroglyphic writing is really picture writing, and is
the oldest means man has employed to enable him to
communicate with his fellows. We find it in the
writing of the Chinese and Japanese, among the cave-dwellers
of Mexico, and the Indian tribes of North
America; but the hieroglyphs of ancient Egypt differed
from the others in this respect, that they had two
values, one the sound value of letters or syllables of
which a word was composed, the other the picture value
which determined it; thus we find the word “cat” or
“dog” spelled by two or three signs which give the
letters, followed by a picture of the animal itself, so
that there might be no doubt as to its meaning. This
sounds quite simple, but the writing of the ancient
Egyptians had developed into a grammatical system so
difficult that it was only the discovery of the Rosetta
stone, which was written in both hieroglyph and Greek,
that gave the scholars of the world their first clue as to

its meaning, and many years elapsed before the most
learned of them were finally able to determine the
alphabet and grammar of the early Egyptians.

I have said nothing about the religion of the Egyptians,
because there were so many different deities worshipped
in different places and at different periods that
the subject is a very confusing one, and is indeed the
most difficult problem in Egyptology.

Rā was the great god of the Egyptians, and regarded
by them as the great Creator, is pictured as the sun, the
life-giver; the other gods and goddesses were generally
embodiments of his various attributes, or the eternal
laws of nature; while some, like Osiris, were simply
deified human beings. The different seats of the
dynasties also had their various “triads,” or trinities, of
gods which they worshipped, while bulls and hawks,
crocodiles and cats, have each in turn been venerated
as emblems of some godlike or natural function.
Thus the “scarab,” or beetle, is the emblem of eternal
life, for the Egyptians believed in a future state
where the souls of men existed in a state of happiness
or woe, according as their lives had been good or evil.
But, like the hieroglyphs, this also is a study for scholars,
and the ordinary visitor is content to admire the decorative
effect these inscriptions give to walls and columns
otherwise bare of ornament.

I must not close this slight sketch of its monuments
without referring to the colossal statues so common in
Egypt.

Babylonia has its winged bulls and kings of heroic
size, Burma its built effigies of Buddha, but no country

but Egypt has ever produced such mighty images as
the monolith statues of her kings which adorn her many
temples, and have their greatest expression in the rock-hewn
temple of Abou Simbel and the imposing colossi
of Thebes. In the case of Abou Simbel, the huge
figures of Rameses II, which form the front of his
temple are hewn out of the solid rock, and are 66 feet
in height, forming one of the most impressive sights in
Egypt. Though 6 feet less in height, the colossi of
Thebes are even more striking, each figure being carved
out of a single block of stone weighing many hundreds
of tons, and which were transported from a great distance
to be placed upon their pedestals in the plain of
Thebes.

Surely in the old days of Egypt great ideas possessed
the minds of men, and apart from the vastness
of their other monuments, had ever kings before or
since such impressive resting-places as the royal tombs
cut deep into the bowels of the Theban hills, or the
stupendous pyramids of Ghizeh!

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CHAPTER IX
THE PEOPLE

BEYOND everything else Egypt is an agricultural country,
and the “fellahīn,” or “soil-cutters,” as the word means,
its dominant type, and in order to form any idea of
their character or mode of life, we must leave the towns
behind and wander through the farm-lands of the Delta.

Trains are few, and hotels do not exist, and anyone
wishing to see the people as they are must travel on
horseback, and be content with such accommodation as
the villages afford. The roads are the canal-banks, or
little paths which wind among the fields; but, as we
have already seen, the country has many beauties, and
the people are so genuine in their simple hospitality
that the traveller has many compensations for the
incidental hardships he may undergo.

What will perhaps first strike the traveller is the
industry of the people. The luxuriant crops give
evidence of their labour, and the fields are everywhere
alive. From dawn to dark everyone is busily
employed, from the youngest child who watches the
tethered cattle or brings water from the well, to the old
man so soon to find his last resting-place in the picturesque
“gabana”*

*Cemetery.

without the village. Seed-time

and harvest go side by side in Egypt, and one may
often witness every operation of the farm, from ploughing
to threshing, going on simultaneously. The people
seem contented as they work, for whereas formerly
the fellahīn were cruelly oppressed by their rulers, today,
under British guidance, they have become independent
and prosperous, and secure in the enjoyment
of the fruits of their labour.

Another impression which the visitor will receive is
the curiously Biblical character of their life, which constantly
suggests the Old Testament stories; the shepherds
watching their flocks, ring-streaked and speckled;
the cattle ploughing in the fields; the women grinding
at the handmill, or grouped about the village well, all
recall incidents in the lives of Isaac and Rebekah, and
episodes of patriarchal times. Their salutations and
modes of speech are also Biblical, and lend a touch of
poetry to their lives. “Turn in, my lord, turn in to
me,” was Jael's greeting to flying Sisera, and straight-way
she prepared for him “butter in a lordly dish.”
So to-day hospitality is one of their cardinal virtues,
and I have myself been chased by a horseman who
rebuked me for having passed his home without refreshment.

Steam-pumps, cotton-mills, and railways may have
slightly altered the aspect of the country, but to all
intents and purposes, in habit of thought and speech, in
costume and customs, the people remain to-day much
as they were in those remote times pictured in the Book
of Genesis.

Fresh fruit or coffee is frequently proffered to the

A NILE VILLAGE.

traveller on his way, while his welcome at a village or
the house of some landed proprietor is always sure.
On approaching a village, which is often surrounded
by dense groves of date-palms, the traveller will be met
by the head men, who, with many salaams, conduct
him to the village “mandareh,” or rest-house, and it is
only as such a guest, resident in a village, that one can
form any idea of the home-life of the people.

From the outside the village often has the appearance
of some rude fortification, the houses practically joining
each other and their mud-walls having few openings.
Within, narrow and tortuous lanes form the only
thoroughfares, which terminate in massive wooden doors,
which are closed at night and guarded by the village
watchman. The huts—for they are nothing else—
which compose the village are seldom of more than
one storey, while in many cases their small doorway
forms their only means of ventilation. Their roofs are
covered with a pile of cotton-stalks and other litter,
through which the pungent smoke of their dung fires
slowly percolates, while fowls and goats, and the inevitable
pariah dog roam about them at will.

Windows, when they do occur, are merely slits in
the mud wall, without glass or shutter, but often
ornamented by a lattice of split palm-leaves. Light
and ventilation practically do not exist, while a few
mats, waterpots, and cooking utensils comprise the only
furniture; yet the people are well-conditioned and
content, for their life is in the fields, and their poor
dwellings are little used except at meal-times or at night.

The guest-house is little better than the huts, except

that one side is entirely open to the air; here at least
the visitor may breathe, even though his slumbers may
be disturbed by the sheep and cattle which wander in
the lanes. At night a fire of corn-cobs is lit, and while
its smoke serves to drive away the swarms of mosquitoes
and flies with which the village is usually infested,
its warmth is grateful, for the nights are cold,
and by its light, aided by a few dim lanterns, the
simple evening meal is shared with the head men, who
count it an honour to entertain a guest.

I have described one of the poorest of the “fellah”
villages, but the traveller is often more luxuriously
housed. Many of the native landowners occupy roomy
and well-appointed dwellings, often surrounded by
pretty and well-stocked gardens, where one may rest
beneath the vines and fig-trees, and enjoy the pomegranates,
apricots, and other fruity which it supplies.
These houses are generally clean and comfortably
furnished after the Turkish manner. The host, prosperous-looking
and well clothed, meets his guest at the
doorstep or assists him to dismount, when, with many
compliments and expressions of delight at his visit, he
is conducted to the guest-chamber. Coffee and sweet
meats are then presented, a foretaste of the generous
meal to follow, for in the homes of the well-to-do a
feast is usually provided for an honoured guest.

The food is served on the low “sahniyeh,” or tray,
which forms the table, on which several flat loaves
surrounded by little dishes of salad and other condiments,
mark the places of the diners; but before eating,
each person present ceremoniously washes his hands and

mouth, a servant bringing in the copper “tisht wa
abrīk,” or jug and basin, kept for that purpose.

The meal always begins with soup, which, greasy to
begin with, is rendered more so by the addition of a
bowl of melted butter. This is eaten with a spoon, the
only utensil provided, each person dipping into the
bowl, which is placed in the centre of the table. The
rest of the meal, which consists of fish, pigeons, and
various kinds of stews and salads, is eaten with the
hands, the diners often presenting each other with
choice morsels from their portion; a baked turkey
stuffed with nuts, or on important occasions a whole
sheep, forms the principal dish, which is cleverly divided
by the host or principal guest without the aid of knife
or fork. Water in porous jars, often flavoured with
rose-leaves or verbena, is presented by servants as the
meal proceeds. The final dish always consists of boiled
rice and milk sweetened with honey, a delicious dish,
which is eaten with the same spoon by which the soup
was partaken of.

Such fare as I have described is only for the wealthy.
In general the “fellahīn” live on rice and wheaten
bread, sugar-cane, and vegetables, with the occasional
addition of a little meat, or such fish as may be caught
in the canals. Their beverage is water, coffee being a
luxury only occasionally indulged in, and their use of
tobacco is infrequent.

Theirs is a simple life whose daily round of labour is
only broken by the occasional marriage feast, or village
fair, or, in the more populous centres, by the periodic
“Mūled,” or religious festival.

In Cairo and other large cities, these “Muleds” are
very elaborate, and often last for days together. Then
business is suspended, and, as at our Christmas-time,
everyone gives himself up to enjoyment and the effort
to make others happy. Gay booths are erected in the
open spaces, in which is singing and the performance
of strange Eastern dances. Mummers and conjurers
perform in the streets, and merry-go-rounds and swing-boats
amuse the youngsters, whose pleasure is further
enhanced by the many stalls and barrows displaying
toy balloons, dolls, and sweetmeats.

All wear their gayest clothing, and at night illuminations
delight the hearts of these simple people.

The principal feasts are the “Mūled-en-Nebbi,” or
birth of Mohammed, and “El Hussanên,” in memory
of the martyred grandson of the Prophet, and although
they are Mohammedans the “Eed-el-Imam,” or birth
of Christ, takes a high place among their religious
celebrations.

But they have their fasts also, and Ramadan, which
lasts for four weeks, is far more strictly observed than
Lent among ourselves, for throughout that period, from
sunrise to sunset, the Moslem abstains from food or
drink, except in the case of the aged or infirm, or of
anyone engaged upon work so arduous as to render
food necessary, for the Mohammedan does not allow
his religion to interfere with his other duties in life.

On the last day of Ramadan occurs a pretty observance
similar to that of All Souls' day in France; then
everyone visits the tombs of their relatives, laying
garlands upon the graves and often passing the night

in the cemeteries in little booths made for the
purpose.

You will have noticed how large a place religion
takes in the life of the people, and in their idle hours
no subject of conversation is more common. To the
average Mohammedan his religion is a very real matter
in which he fervently believes, and Allah is to him a
very personal God, whom he may at all times approach
in praise or prayer in the certain belief of His fatherly
care. Nothing impresses a traveller more than this
tremendous belief of the Mohammedans in their Deity
and their religion; and though many people, probably
from lack of knowledge, hold the view that the Moslem
faith is a debased one, it is in reality a fine religion,
teaching many wise and beautiful doctrines, and ennobling
the lives of all who live up to the best that is
in it.

Unfortunately the teaching of Mohammedanism is
so largely fatalistic that it tends to deprive the individual
of personal initiative. “The Lord gave, and the
Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the
Lord,” is a general attitude of mind, and this, combined
with their long centuries of servitude, has had so much
effect upon the national character of the Egyptian that
they almost entirely lack those qualities of alertness,
confidence, and sense of personal responsibility without
which no race can become great or even, indeed, be
self-respecting.

The higher education now general in Egypt has
already had its effect upon the present generation,
among which a feeling of ambition and independence is

growing, while the Egyptian army has shown what
wonders may be wrought, even with the poorest
material, by sustained and honest effort in the right
direction; and if the just and sympathetic guidance
which it has enjoyed for now a quarter of a century is
not too soon withdrawn, Egypt may once again become
a nation.

As it is, to-day the great mass of the people remain
much as they have been for ages; a simple, kindly
people, ignorant and often fanatical, but broadly good-humoured
and keenly alive to a joke; fond of their
children, and showing great consideration for age, they
have many traits which endear them to those who have
lived among them, while their faults are largely on the
surface, and due in some measure to the centuries of
ignorance and slavery which has been their lot.

The greatest blot upon the Egyptian character is the
position accorded to their women, who, as in all
Mohammedan countries, are considered to be soulless.
From infancy employed in the most menial occupations,
they are not even permitted to enter the mosques at
prayer-time, and until recently the scanty education
which the boys enjoyed was denied to their sisters. It
is no wonder, therefore, that these often beautiful girls
grow up much like graceful animals, ignorant of the
higher duties of life, and exercising none of that refining
and ennobling influence which have made the Western
races what they are.

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CHAPTER X
THE DESERT

WHEN so much of geographical Egypt consists
of desert, it would be interesting if I were to tell you
something about it before closing this little book.
Probably the first question my readers would ask
would be, “What use is it?” Why does Nature create
such vast wastes of land and rock which can be of little
or no use to anybody?

We cannot always follow the intentions of Nature,
or see what may ultimately result, but so far as the
desert is concerned we know of at least one useful
purpose it serves, and that is the making of climate.

Edinburgh and Moscow are in precisely the same
latitudes, yet the one is equable in temperature while
the other endures the rigours of an arctic winter. The
South of Iceland also suffers less from cold than do the
great central plains of Europe. And why? Simply
because their different climates are the result of special
conditions or influences of Nature, and what the Gulf
Stream does for the British Isles the deserts of Africa
effect not only for Egypt, but for the whole of Southern
Europe, whose genial climate is mainly caused by the
warm air generated on these sun-baked barren lands.

Now let us see what the desert is like in appearance.
It is a very common impression that the desert is
simply a flat expanse of sand, colourless and unbroken;
in reality it is quite different, being full of variations,
which give it much the same diversity of interest
as the ocean.

The colour of the sand varies infinitely, according to
its situation. Thus the desert which surrounds Assuan,
which is composed of decimated granite and Nile silt,
is generally grey; in Nubia the sand is formed of
powdered sandstone of a curiously golden tint, while
the desert of Suez, which abuts on Cairo and the Delta
provinces, is generally white in tone, due to the admixture
of limestone dust of which it is largely composed.
The great Sahara also is no monotonous stretch of sand,
but is to a great extent covered by wild herbs of many
kinds, which often entirely screen the sand from view,
and give it the appearance of a prairie.

Nor is the desert always flat, for its huge undulations
suggest ocean billows petrified into stillness, while rocky
hills and earthquake-riven valleys give it a fantastic
variety which is wildly picturesque.

Though generally barren, the desert supports growths
of many kinds; wild hyssop, thorns, the succulent ice-plant,
and a great variety of other shrubs. Flowers
also abound, and though they are usually small, I have
counted as many as twenty varieties in an area of
as many feet, and in some of the deep “wadis,” as the
mountain valleys are called, wild plants grow in such
profusion as to give them the appearance of rock
gardens.

DESERT ARABS.

In aspect the desert varies very much, according to
the time of day or changing effect of light.

At dawn a curious mauve tint suffuses it, and the sun
rises sharp and clear above the horizon, which also
stands out crisply against the sky, so pure is the air.
Presently, as the sun slowly rises higher in the sky,
every shrub or stone or little inequality of surface
is tipped with gold and throws long blue shadows across
the sand. At midday a fierce glare envelops it,
obliterating detail and colour, while by moonlight it is
a fairyland of silver, solemn, still, and mysterious.
Each phase has its special beauty, which interests the
traveller and robs his journey of monotony.

Scattered over the surface of the sand are innumerable
pebbles of all sizes and colours—onyx, cornelian, agate,
and many more, as well as sea fossils and other petrifactions
which boys would love to collect. And it is also
curious to notice that the rocks which crop up in
all directions become sunburnt, and limestone, naturally
of a dazzling white, often assumes a variety of tints
under the influence of the powerful sun, as may be seen
in the foreground of my picture of the pyramids.

Animal life also exists in profusion; every tuft
of scrub supports a variety of insects upon which the
hunting spider and desert lizard feed; the tracks
of giant beetles or timid jerboa scour the sand in
all directions, and many wild-birds make these wastes
their home. Prowling wolves and foxes hunt the tiny
gazelle, while the rocky hills, in which the wild goats
make their home, also give shelter to the hyenas and
jackals, which haunt the caravan routes to feast upon

the dying animals which fall abandoned to their
fate.

The life of the desert is not confined to the beasts,
however, for many Bedawīn tribes roam about them in
search of water or fodder for their animals, and of all
the Eastern races I have met none are more interesting
than these desert nomads.

The wandering life of the Bedawīn makes it difficult
for anyone to become acquainted with them, while their
reputation for lawlessness is such that travellers on
desert routes usually endeavour to avoid them. In
several parts of the desert near Egypt, however, important
families of them have settled so as to be near
the farm-lands granted to them by Ismail Pasha many
years ago (nominally in return for military services, but
in reality to keep them quiet), and I have often visited
their camps at Beni Ayoub and Tel Bedawi, to find
them courteous, hospitable, and in the best sense of the
word, gentlemen.

These camps are large, and the long lines of tents,
pitched with military precision, shelter probably more
than 1,000 people, for though the head sheykh may
build a lodge of stone in which to entertain his guests,
the Arab is a gipsy who loves his tent.

The tents, which are often very large, are formed of
heavy cloths of goats'-hair woven in stripes of different
colours, and supported by a large number of poles;
long tassels hang from the seams, and other cloths are
often attached to them so as to divide the tent into
different apartments. Clean sand forms the floor,
on which at nightfall a rug or carpet is spread to form

a bed. Round the walls are the gay saddle-bags and
trappings of the camels and horses, as well as many
boxes ornamented with tinsel and painting, which
contain the wardrobes and other possessions of the
inmates. At the tent-door, stuck upright in the ground,
is the long spear of its occupant, and the large earthen
pot which serves as fireplace, while in some shady
corner a row of zīrs contain their supply of drinking
water. Turkeys and fowl give a homely look to the
premises, where perhaps a gentle-eyed gazelle is playmate
to the rough-haired dogs few Bedawīn are
without. Round about the tents children are playing,
while their mothers are working at the hand-loom,
or preparing the simple evening meal.

In character the Bedawīn are dignified and reserved,
and have a great contempt for the noisiness so characteristic
of the Egyptians, but, like them, are passionately
fond of their wives and children, and so highly prize
the various articles of saddlery or apparel made by their
hands that no money would buy them.

The men are tall, with strong aquiline features and
keen eyes, which look very piercing beneath the
“cufia,”*

*A square shawl of white or coloured silk.

which is wrapped around their heads; their
clothing is loose and flowing, a black “arbiyeh” being
worn over the “khaftan,” or inner robe, of white or
coloured stripes, and their boots are of soft leather.
Though the traditional spear is still retained, all are
armed with some firearm—ancient flint-locks of great
length, or more commonly nowadays with a modern
rifle, and many of the sheykhs wear a long, curved

sword of beautiful workmanship, which is slung across
their shoulders by a silken cord. All have strong,
deep voices, and impress you with the idea that these
are manly and courageous fellows, and upright according
to their lights.

The women also are clothed in loose draperies, the
outer one of some rough material, which conceals
others of daintier fabric and colour. Handsome in
feature, with glossy blue-black hair, their dark gipsy
faces also wear that look of sturdy independence which
so becomes the men.

It may naturally be asked, “How do these people
occupy their time?” First of all, they have large flocks,
which must be fed and watered, and they are thus compelled
to wander from well to well, or from one oasis to
another, and they are also great breeders of horses,
which must be carefully looked after, and from time to
time taken to some far away fair for sale. Food and
water also have often to be brought long distances to
their camps by the camel-men, while the women are
occupied with their domestic duties and their weaving.

Naturally the Bedawīn are expert horsemen, and are
very fond of equestrian sports. Some of their fancy
riding is very clever, and great rivalry exists among
them, particularly in their “jerīd,” or javelin, play,
when frequently several hundreds of mounted men are
engaged in a mêlée, which, though only intended to be
a friendly contest, often results in serious injury or
death to many.

The Arab is very fond of his horse, which he himself
has bred and trained from a colt, and his affection is

amply returned by his steed. They are beautiful
animals, strong and fleet-footed, but often savage with
anyone but their master.

Sport enters largely into the life of the Bedawīn, and
many tribes train falcons, with which they hunt gazelles,
and in the Lybian desert the “cheetah,” or hunting
leopard, is tamed and used for the same purpose, and
in this way the monotony of many a long desert march
is relieved.

When on a journey smaller tents than those which
I have described are used, all the heavy baggage being
loaded on to camels, upon which the women and
children also ride. Camels have often been called the
“ships of the desert,” and they are certainly the most
useful of all animals for such travelling, for their broad
pads prevent their feet from sinking into the soft sand,
and not only do they carry enormous loads, but are
able for days together to go without food or water.
When Abraham sent his servant to seek a wife for
Isaac, it was on camels that he travelled, and shaded,
no doubt, by her canopy of shawls, it was on camel-back
that Rebekah returned with him to the tent of his
master. So to-day we may often meet a similar party
on their journey, the women seated beneath the
“mahmal,” as the canopy is called, while the food and
water for the journey is slung from the saddles of the
camels ridden by the armed men who form their
escort.

Camels are of two kinds—the heavily-built beast,
such as we see in Egypt, and which is used for baggage
purposes, and the “hagīn,” or dromedary, used solely

for riding. Lest any of my readers should fall into
the common error of supposing that the dromedary has
two humps, let me say that the only difference between
it and the ordinary camel is that it is smaller and better
bred, just as our racehorses differ from draught animals,
and must not be confounded with the Bactrian or two-humped
camel of Asia. These hagīn are very fleet,
and often cover great distances, and I have known one
to travel as much as 100 miles between sunset and
sunrise!

On a journey the pace of a caravan is that of its
slowest beast, and very arduous such journeys often are,
for there is no shade, and the dust raised by the caravan
envelops the slowly moving travellers, while the fierce
sun is reflected from the rocks, which often become too
hot to touch. On the other hand, the nights are often
bitterly cold, for the sand is too loose to retain any of
its heat, while the salt with which the desert is strongly
impregnated has a chilling effect on the air. Most
trying of all, however, are the hot desert winds, which
often last for days together, drying up the water in the
skins, while the distressed travellers are half suffocated
by the dust and flying sand which cut the skin like
knives. Little wonder, therefore, if these hardy desert
tribes are taciturn and reserved, for they see nature in
its stern moods, and know little of that ease of life
which may be experienced among the green crops and
pastures of the Delta.

It must not be supposed that the Bedawīn are
morose, for beneath their outward severity lies a great
power for sympathy and affection. The love of the

Arab for his horse is proverbial, and his kindness to all
dumb animals is remarkable.

Like the Egyptian, family affection holds him
strongly, and he has a keen appreciation of poetry and
music. Hospitality is to him a law, and the guest is
always treated with honour; it is pleasant also to see
the respect with which the Bedawīn regard their women,
and the harmony which exists between the members or
a tribe. Their government is patriarchal, each tribe
being ruled by its sheykh, the “father of his children,”
who administers their code of honour or justice, and
whose decision is always implicitly obeyed. Here,
again, we have another Biblical parallel, for, like his
brother Mohammedan in Egypt, the life of the desert
Arab, no less than the dwellers on the “black soil,”
still preserves many of those poetical customs and
characteristics which render the history of Abraham so
attractive, and although these pages have only been
able to give a partial picture of Egypt and its people,
perhaps enough has been said to induce my readers to
learn more about them, as well as to enable them a little
more fully to realize how very real, and how very human,
are the romantic stories of the Old Testament.

THE END

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Date: (unknown) (Electronic edition revised September 2007) . Author: Kelly, Robert Talbot, 1861-1934 (Electronic edition revised LMS).
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons attribution license.

Title: Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Title: Peeps at Many Lands Egypt

Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Contents

SEBIL OF THE MOSQUE OF THE SULTAN KELAŪN.

PEEPS AT MANY LANDS
EGYPT

WITH TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
BY
THE AUTHOR

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

SKETCH-MAP OF EGYPT.

AN IRRIGATED FIELD.

EGYPT
CHAPTER I
ITS ANTIQUITY

CHAPTER II
THE LAND

THE LAND OF GOSHEN—EVENING Page II.

CHAPTER III
CAIRO—I

AN ARAB CAFÉ, CAIRO.

A MOSQUE INTERIOR.

CHAPTER IV
CAIRO—II

A STREET IN CAIRO.

CHAPTER V
THE NILE—1

A WATERING PLACE. Page 43.

CHAPTER VI
THE NILE—II

FIRST CATARACT FROM ELEPHANTINE ISLAND. page 53.

CHAPTER VII
THE NILE—III

THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH FROM THE DESERT. Page 61.

CHAPTER VIII
THE MONUMENTS

THE COLOSSI OF THEBES—MOONRISE. Page 70.

CHAPTER IX
THE PEOPLE

A NILE VILLAGE.

CHAPTER X
THE DESERT

DESERT ARABS.

Title: Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Title: Peeps at Many Lands Egypt

Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Contents

SEBIL OF THE MOSQUE OF THE SULTAN KELAŪN.

PEEPS AT MANY LANDS EGYPT

WITH TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY THE AUTHOR

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

SKETCH-MAP OF EGYPT.

AN IRRIGATED FIELD.

EGYPTCHAPTER IITS ANTIQUITY

CHAPTER IITHE LAND

THE LAND OF GOSHEN—EVENING Page II.

CHAPTER IIICAIRO—I

AN ARAB CAFÉ, CAIRO.

A MOSQUE INTERIOR.

CHAPTER IVCAIRO—II

A STREET IN CAIRO.

CHAPTER VTHE NILE—1

A WATERING PLACE. Page 43.

CHAPTER VITHE NILE—II

FIRST CATARACT FROM ELEPHANTINE ISLAND. page 53.

CHAPTER VIITHE NILE—III

THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH FROM THE DESERT. Page 61.

CHAPTER VIIITHE MONUMENTS

THE COLOSSI OF THEBES—MOONRISE. Page 70.

CHAPTER IXTHE PEOPLE

A NILE VILLAGE.

CHAPTER XTHE DESERT

DESERT ARABS.

PEEPS AT MANY LANDS
EGYPT

WITH TWELVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
BY
THE AUTHOR

EGYPT
CHAPTER I
ITS ANTIQUITY

CHAPTER II
THE LAND

CHAPTER III
CAIRO—I

CHAPTER IV
CAIRO—II

CHAPTER V
THE NILE—1

CHAPTER VI
THE NILE—II

CHAPTER VII
THE NILE—III

CHAPTER VIII
THE MONUMENTS

CHAPTER IX
THE PEOPLE

CHAPTER X
THE DESERT