SUEZ
The heroic statue of Ferdinand de Lesseps, who has given to the world the
Suez Canal, standing for ever at the gateway he opened to the East, was
plainly visible before we caught the first glimpse of land. We dropped
anchor at a small distance from Suez, having to wait for the canal to
be free. Our binoculars showed us a row of white houses with trees and
a railway-line. That was the town of Suez. I stood on deck watching the
animation on the canal. Hundreds of small boats hovered near, filled with
eager vendors of curios and ostrich feathers. A great homeward-bound
troop-ship filled with French soldiers, who were returning from the
expedition to Madagascar, had just arrived. The climate didn’t agree with
the soldiers, they were all in a wretched condition, knocked up with
malarial fever. Here is a sanitary “sampan,” carrying a flag with the
inscription, _Santé_, coming alongside our rope-ladder. The pilot allowed
us at last to enter the Suez Canal, which is considerably narrower
than the Thames. It’s queer to know that but for the narrow passage in
which the vessel moves, you are on dry land. Our way is marked out with
floating red barrels. The moving sands of the Sahara border the banks
of the canal; the sky above the yellow sand looked extremely blue. From
time to time tall palms with bushy tops appear. All around is an immense
stillness. There is a caravan of camels marching slowly with rhythmical
gait, on the sands of the desert, conveyed by Arabs in billowy white
bournouses. On the opposite shore a flock of large white birds with long
red legs stand contemplative each on a single leg. A crowd of half-naked
little Arabs are running along the edge of the bank. They follow us
laughing and begging as gaily as if begging were a game, catching the
pennies thrown by the passengers.
We have very little breeze and sunshine in profusion until the stifling
afternoon had passed. It is evening now; the sun has set and the
freshness of the desert night is delightful. Our ship is steaming at half
speed through the placid canal. An immense electric light shows us our
way. A big vessel comes to meet us. Our sailors having taken the ship for
a Russian cruiser, began to shout, “_Vive la Russie!_” but it appeared to
be a Spanish mail-boat.