A startling discovery this morning.
By landing higher up the river we explored a part of the city where
the buildings are of a different character from those we saw
yesterday. Nofuhl considers them the dwellings of the rich. In shape
they are like bricks set on end, all very similar, uninteresting, and
monotonous.
We noticed one where the doors and shutters were still in place, but
rotting from the fantastic hinges that supported them. A few hard
blows brought down the outer doors in a dusty heap, and as we stepped
upon the marble floor within our eyes met an unexpected sight.
Furniture, statues, dingy pictures in crumbling frames, images in
bronze and silver, mirrors, curtains, all were there, but in every
condition of decay. We knocked open the iron shutters and let the
light into the rooms sealed up for centuries. In the first one lay a
rug from Persia! Faded, moth-eaten, gone in places, it seemed to ask
us with dying eyes to be taken hence. My heart grew soft over the
ancient rug, and I caught a foolish look in Lev-el-Hedyd's eye.
As we climbed the mouldering stair to the floor above I expressed
surprise that cloth and woodwork should hold together for so many
centuries, also saying:
"These Mehrikans were not so unworthy as we think them."
"That may be," said Lev-el-Hedyd, "but the Persian rug is far the
freshest object we have seen, and that perchance was ancient when they
bought it."
On this floor we entered a dim chamber, spacious and once richly
furnished. When Lev-el-Hedyd pushed open the shutters and drew aside
the ragged curtains we started at the sight before us.
Upon a wide bed in the centre of the room lay a human form, the long,
yellow hair still clinging to the head. It was more a mummy than a
skeleton. Around, upon the bed, lay mouldering fragments of the once
white sheets that covered it. On the fingers of the left hand
glistened two rings which drew our attention. One held a diamond of
great price, the other was composed of sapphires and diamonds most
curiously arranged. We stood a moment in silence, gazing sadly upon
the figure.
"Poor woman," I said, "left thus to die alone."
"It is more probable," said Nofuhl, "she was already dead, and her
friends, departing perhaps in haste, were unable to burn the body."
"Did they burn their dead?" I asked. "In my history 'twas writ they
buried them in the earth like potatoes, and left them to rot."
And Nofuhl answered: "At one time it was so, but later on, as they
became more civilized, the custom was abandoned."
"Is it possible?" I asked, "that this woman has been lying here almost
a thousand years and yet so well preserved?"
"I, also, am surprised," said Nofuhl. "I can only account for it by
the extreme dryness of the air in absorbing the juices of the body and
retarding decay."
Then lifting tenderly in his hand some of the yellow hair, he said:
"She was probably very young, scarce twenty."
"Were their women fair?" I asked.
"They were beautiful," he answered; "with graceful forms and lovely
faces; a pleasure to the eye; also were they gay and sprightly with
much animation."
Thereupon cried Lev-el-Hedyd:
"Here are the first words thou hast uttered, O Nofuhl, that cause me
to regret the extinction of this people!" There is ever a place in my
heart for a blushing maiden!"
"Then let thy grief be of short life," responded Nofuhl, "for
Mehrikan damsels were not of that description. Blush-ing was an art
they practised little. The shyness thou so lovest in a Persian maiden
was to them an unknown thing. Our shrinking daughters bear no
resemblance to these Western products. They strode the public streets
with roving eyes and unblushing faces, holding free converse with men
as with women, bold of speech and free of manner, going and coming as
it pleased them best. They knew much of the world, managed their own
affairs, and devised their own marriages, often changing their minds
and marrying another than the betrothed."
"Bismillah! And men could love these things?" exclaimed Lev-el-Hedyd
with much feeling.
"So it appears."
"But I should say the Mehrikan bride had much the freshness of a dried
fig."
"So she had," said Nofuhl; "but those who know only the dried fig have
no regret for the fresh fruit. But the fault was not with the maidens.
Brought up like boys, with the same studies and mental development,
the womanly part of their nature gradually vanished as their minds
expanded. Vigor of intellect was the object of a woman's education."
Then Lev-el-Hedyd exclaimed with great disgust:
"Praises be to Allah for his aid in exterminating such a people!" and
he walked away from the bed, and began looking about the chamber. In a
moment he hastened back to us, saying:
"Here are more jewels! also money!"
Nofuhl eagerly took the pieces.
"Money!" he cried. "Money will tell us more than pages of history!"
There were silver coins of different sizes and two small pieces of
copper. Nofuhl studied them closely.
"The latest date is 1957," he said; "a little less than a thousand
years ago; but the piece may have been in circulation some years
before this woman died; also it may have been coined the very year of
her death. It bears the head of Dennis, the last of the Hy-Burnyan
dictators. The race is supposed to have become extinct before 1990 of
their era."