CAIRO AND THE PYRAMIDS.
On Monday morning, after enjoying our usual breakfast at the Casa Nova
of boiled eggs, rolls and pure honey, good coffee, and delicious
oranges, we bade farewell to our tonsured hosts and the staff of gowned
attendants. The carriages were waiting near the Jaffa Gate to convey us
to the station. The train moved off promptly at the appointed hour, and
looking backward, we took our farewell glimpse of the Tower of David and
the yellow walls of the Holy City.
During the three hours' ride to Jaffa the threatening clouds passed
away, the sun re-appeared, the rough winds changed to soft breezes, and
our depressed spirits rose correspondingly. By the time the orange
groves in the suburbs of Jaffa came into sight, the tourists were in a
gay and cheerful humor. But when we arrived at the pier of Jaffa, we
discovered that the sea still felt the effects of the gale. The surf was
rolling high and the angry waves were breaking violently over the
ugly-looking rocks in the harbor, hiding them for an instant from view
and sending the snowy spray high into the air. As we looked out toward
the Moltke riding at anchor a mile away, many of the gay faces became
sober. The boatmen holding the tossing boats to the pier urged us to
embark.
"But timorous mortals start and shrink to cross the narrow sea,
And linger trembling on the brink and fear to launch away"
"Oh, I cannot venture! Go without me! Leave me behind!" exclaimed one of
the ladies, trembling and almost fainting through fear. "Those black
rocks momentarily emerging and disappearing seem like the heads of
terrible monsters waiting to devour us as soon as we come within their
reach."
"Do not be alarmed," said one of the officials on the pier,
encouragingly. "The sea, as you say, has a threatening look, but I
assure you that if there were any danger we would not permit you to
attempt the passage. These Syrian boatmen have been carrying passengers
for years and know every rock in the harbor. They brought the Damascus
tourists from the Moltke without mishap this morning when the sea was
rougher than now. Trust the boatmen and you will soon be safely on board
the steamer."
As our boat in its passage over the stormy billows plunged downward into
the trough of the sea, and horizon, ship, and land were hidden from
view, we thought that the uplifted, on-coming crests of the waves would
engulf the boat beneath them; but, expertly handled by the trained
rowers, the craft rose with each immense surge and safely passed the
breakers. The Syrian boatmen, who had been continually chanting their
hymns to Allah while plying their oars, suddenly stopped singing.
"Bachsheesh! Backsheesh!" they cried, ceasing to row, while one of them,
doffing his fez, passed it around the boat for contributions. The
passengers, grateful for safety, dropped their coins into the fez;
again the oars were put in motion, the chant was resumed, and in a few
minutes the boats were alongside the vessel.
[Illustration: SHE WAS WASHING CLOTHES IN THE CANAL.]
Then came the difficulty of getting on board the steamer; for the little
boat lay underneath the platform at the foot of the ship's ladder,
tossed by the billows. As each heaving swell, however, bore the boat
upward, two sturdy seamen on the platform, reaching down, grasped a
passenger's arms and drew him up while the boatmen assisted from
underneath. In this way, one with each wave, the tourists safely
embarked. The passage from the pier to the steamer affected the tourists
in various ways: many were frightened, notwithstanding the assertion of
the official that the dangers were more apparent than real; others were
exhilarated by the tossing waves and enjoyed the thrilling experience.
"I was so interested in watching the muscular development of the boatmen
as they pulled at the oars, and in admiring the dexterity and skill with
which they managed the boat, that I did not think of danger," remarked a
man who had been stroke oar on a college crew.
While the tourists were being transferred to the ship, the band on deck
was playing "Home, Sweet Home," and the Captain and other officers
standing at the head of the stairway gave a friendly greeting to the
wanderers as they came on board.
"It is pleasant to be welcomed back in this friendly manner," remarked
one of the ramblers to another as they entered their cabin, "and then it
is so homelike here in our stateroom, with our photographs and
nick-nacks pinned around the walls."
[Illustration: BELOW THE CITADEL WE SAW AN OPEN-AIR MARKET.]
A busy afternoon of re-packing followed the departure from Jaffa, for on
the following day the tourists were to leave the steamer at Alexandria
to remain twelve days in Egypt. Clothing that was considered suitable
for the climate of that warmer region was carefully selected and
condensed into the smaller receptacles, and every article that the
tourists supposed would not be required was left in the staterooms.
On Tuesday morning, March tenth, at seven o'clock, the Moltke was
anchored in the commodious port of Alexandria, which is enclosed by long
stone breakwaters that have been built into the sea to protect the
harbor. Many vessels were at the docks or at anchor in the port, and a
handsome white yacht flying the imperial flag of Germany lay within a
stone's throw of our steamer.
"The Crown Prince of the German Empire is visiting Egypt and that is his
yacht," said one of the officers.
The morning was bright and clear. It was a delight to breathe the warm
salt air and feel its invigoration. Overhead the sky was brilliantly
blue and the sea reflected it in various hues.
"Did you ever see such wonderful coloring on the waters of sea or
river?" asked an enthusiastic beholder. "Near by the sea sparkles in the
morning sunlight in azure and olive and darkens into sapphire and
emerald, and there beyond the breakwater it changes to tints of violet
and purple. I have heard that the colors of the Mediterranean are
beautiful; now I know they are."
The row boats that were to carry us ashore gathered around the steamer.
The bare-footed boatmen, with faces of various shades from light yellow
to intense black, were attired in red fez, white bloomers, and long
red sweaters.
[Illustration: AT THE NILE BRIDGE WE WAITED FOR THE DRAW TO CLOSE.]
At the custom house on the dock the custom officials accepted the
statement of the managers that the baggage of the tourists contained
nothing dutiable, and the baggage was passed without examination. A
special train was on the pier ready to convey the party to Cairo.
Beggars and peddlers attempted to approach the train to ask alms or sell
their wares, but were driven away with whips by black Nubian soldiers in
dark blue uniforms, who appeared to take delight in snapping at the bare
legs of the intruders.
It was just noon when our train, the second special section, moved out
of Alexandria through long rows of large warehouses; for Alexandria is
the chief seaport of Egypt and exports the cotton, grain, sugar, rice,
and other productions of the valley of the Nile. As the train passed
rapidly southward through the delta of the Nile, we realized that we
were in a land entirely different from any that we had previously
visited. The trip of one hundred and thirty miles to Cairo will be
remembered by the tourists as a panoramic succession of interesting
pictures of agricultural life. The land on both sides of the railway was
a black, sandy loam, level almost as a floor, intersected and broken
only by the canals and irrigation ditches. For some distance out of
Alexandria the Mahmudiyeh canal was in sight.
"There is a scene that is familiar to me!" exclaimed one of the party.
"A landscape hanging in the art gallery of our city represents the light
blue water of a canal mirroring tufted palms and wing-like sails. It
was painted by a noted artist, who has successfully reproduced many
beautiful Egyptian views."
[Illustration: "WANT A GUIDE? WANT A GUIDE?" THEY INQUIRED.]
Nile boats with breeze-filled canvas, caravans of camels on the
embankment of the canal, and trains of donkeys laden with marketing for
the city by the sea, seemed stationary as we rushed by. The land
appeared to be thoroughly cultivated. There were no fences or waste
corners in sight. Every foot of workable ground was utilized for raising
crops.
[Illustration: EACH ARAB'S CART CONTAINED HIS WIVES.]
"Irrigation makes this almost rainless region the most fruitful on the
globe," remarked one of the managers of the tour. "By the aid of
irrigation the Egyptian farmers can raise two or three crops every year.
To do so, however, they must labor incessantly and give the land
thorough cultivation. Irrigation with them is not opening the gates of a
sluiceway and letting the water flow over the land. It means severe
labor, pumping the water up from the ditches, canals, or river, in which
the surface of the water may be ten or twenty feet below the surface
of the land. The pumps are the same kind that the people used in the
days of the Pharaohs, and the methods of cultivation are the same as in
those ancient times, without modern agricultural implements or modern
machinery. Three crops, therefore, does not mean great prosperity, but
simply enables the Egyptian farmer to pay taxes that would seem enormous
to an American farmer, and then to have a surplus sufficient to supply
his very moderate wants."
[Illustration: WHERE EGYPTIANS OF MANY TYPES WERE ASSEMBLED.]
The monotony of the level stretches was varied by groups of palm trees
whose tall rough trunks upheld graceful heads of outstretched, drooping
leaves, and by villages of small mud huts roofed with stalks of
sugar-cane, sufficient, we imagined, in that dry country, to protect the
inmates from the burning noonday heat, and to shelter them from the
chilling night dews. Occasionally the train stopped at large and
apparently prosperous towns, where there were substantial stone
buildings and busy factories. At these stations Arab venders offered
coffee, lemonade, fruit, and other refreshments to appease the hunger
and thirst of the travelers.
The fields were full of life. Each cultivated acre had its dark-hued
laborers with hoes, or bare-legged toilers drawing water from the
ditches for irrigating the thirsty land, or plowmen guiding teams of
ungainly, striding camels or dark gray, crooked-horned oxen. In the lush
meadows many of these curious-looking animals were grazing. The camels,
the small donkeys, and the gray oxen or water-buffaloes as the natives
called them, tied to stakes, were restricted to the pasturage within
reach of their tethers. Along some of the irrigating canals naked
dark-skinned men and boys splashed about in the water, or stood
unabashed on the bank of the stream, gazing at the passing train.
[Illustration: I. SMALL AND HAZY IN THE DISTANCE.]
[Illustration: II. "MADAM MIGHT DROP HER SHAWL."]
"Look at that scene," cried one of the passengers. "I wonder whether our
cattle at home would not enjoy similar treatment."
In the canal some naked boys were mounted on a buffalo, and near them an
Arab, also in the water, was scrubbing the back of another buffalo, to
the evident enjoyment of that animal.
As we approached Cairo, the great valley of the delta narrowed, and
mountain boundaries loomed up in the distance. Far away to the right the
tops of the Pyramids, looking very small, silhouetted the sky. On the
left, high hills broke the landscape, and presently the buildings and
minarets that crowned the hills were outlined on the horizon. Handsome
villas, beautiful gardens, good roads, and increasing traffic in the
suburbs indicated the nearness of a prosperous city.
Just four hours after leaving Alexandria our train entered the station
at Cairo, where hotel-runners, cab-men, and porters gave the passengers
a noisy reception. Complete arrangements having been made in advance for
our party, we had time to take in the novel sights leisurely. The party
had been divided into two sections; one section booked for the famous
Shepheard's Hotel, the other section for the Hotel Grand Continental.
The avenues through which we were driven on the way to the Hotel were
bordered with large shade trees. The streets were full of life. The
buildings were modern, seemingly of French style, with a mixture of
Oriental architecture.
[Illustration: I. THE SAND HAD BEEN SHOVELED AWAY FROM THE SPHINX.]
[Illustration: II. THE GRANITE TEMPLE. REMAINS EMBEDDED.]
"What a contrast," said one, thinking aloud of the city we had left but
two days ago, as our carriage glided smoothly over the well paved
highways. "Did two cities ever present a stronger contrast than
Jerusalem, with streets narrow, rough, filthy, and depressing to the
spirits, and Cairo, with avenues broad, smooth, clean, and pleasing to
the senses? The interest in the city of Jerusalem had to be stirred by
the memorials of the sacred events of the past; the discomforts of the
present had to be overlooked. The city of Cairo appeals to us at once as
a pleasure ground with attractions on all sides, and the promise of
comfortable surroundings."
The hotels of Cairo are famous throughout the world for the magnificence
of their appointments, the cosmopolitan character of their guests, and
the novelty of the sights that may be seen at their doors. When we drove
up to the Hotel Grand Continental, a military band was giving an
afternoon concert in the beautiful Esbekieh Gardens opposite the hotel.
On the wide pavement in front of the piazza of the hotel, dragomen in
elaborate Arabic costumes were offering their services as guides or
interpreters. "Want a guide? want a guide?" they inquired of all
strangers who they thought might need such service. Arab urchins, whose
hands may have once been clean, offered picture postal cards for sale;
bootblacks solicited patronage and beggars asked for alms; match
peddlers endeavored to dispose of their little boxes; flower sellers
thrust their bouquets forward into notice; dealers in scarabs and
miniature mummy cases proclaimed the virtues of their charms; and
venders of beads offered endless varieties of their fanciful, colored
Egyptian wares. Interest in the scene was heightened by the variety of
the characteristic flowing gowns peculiar to the natives of Egypt. On
the piazza, groups of guests were taking afternoon tea, and listening to
the music in the park opposite, or, seated comfortably in wicker chairs,
found amusement in watching the animated throng on the sidewalk; in
observing the arrivals and departures on donkeys and in victorias; and
in viewing the constant panoramic procession on the street.
[Illustration: MAY TAKE CAMELS OR DONKEYS AND RIDE.]
The head porter, in gorgeous uniform, received us with the air of a
proprietor; Arab bell boys in bright red silk gowns responded to the
call of the manager and conducted us to our rooms; and Arab men in white
gowns brought up our luggage. There were French maids on each floor to
attend to the calls of the ladies; but Arab men in spotless robes made
the beds, cared for the rooms, and took the place of chambermaids. These
Arab men were seated in the wide halls when not employed at their tasks,
but whenever a guest approached they rose and stood at attention,
appearing very tall in their white drapery. In the dining room the
English head waiters in dress suits contrasted strangely with the
dark-skinned Arab waiters in handsome silk gowns of various colors.
On the evening we arrived in Cairo the large gardens of Shepheard's
Hotel were beautifully illuminated with thousands of electric lights and
hundreds of Chinese lanterns festooned among the shrubbery. Two military
bands alternately played selections from favorite composers during the
evening. An exhibition of fire-works made a brilliant display, and this
was followed by a "battle of confetti" in the garden and a dance in the
hotel. Our party bought packages of paper confetti and joined the gay
crowd of merrymakers in casting handfuls of the colored squares of paper
at each passer-by. At the dance the great variety of handsome uniforms
worn by the English officers attracted our attention, the red jackets of
some of the men being particularly noticeable among the light gowns of
the French and English women.
Plans to utilize our time to the best advantage were carefully made, so
that during our one week in Cairo we might give precedence to the places
of particular interest, and see them at the most suitable hours.
[Illustration: THE CLIMBERS DWINDLED IN SIZE.]
[Illustration: AFTER REACHING THE TOP OF CHEOPS.]
When we visited the Egyptian Museum, the wealth of antiquities displayed
within its commodious and well-lighted halls held us with a grasp from
which it was difficult to break loose. The mummies of the old kings who
had been dead for thirty centuries urged us to remain. "We will tell you
the story of remote ages," they seemed to say. There Ramses II, with
gray hair, thin beard, and pierced ears, the great conqueror, builder of
temples, erector of statues, and maker of history, lay peacefully at
rest. His lips were firmly closed, his hands folded across his breast.
His high forehead indicated the judgment with which he governed, and the
strong nose suggested the greatness of his power. And near him, in
hieroglyphic-covered coffins, reposed Seti I, constructor of magnificent
edifices; Ramses III, oppressor of the Israelites; and many other famous
kings, queens, priests, and warriors. The wooden statue of a village
sheik with good-natured face and crystal eyes, and the tinted
limestone, lifelike statues of Prince Rahotep and his wife Nofret, could
they have spoken, might have revealed the secrets of ages long before
the times of the mummies; and the gray stone figure of Chepren, which
was found in the well of the temple of Gizeh, might have explained the
mysteries of pyramid and sphinx.
[Illustration: IN THE UNIVERSITY THE STUDENTS WERE SEATED ON THE FLOOR.]
[Illustration: THE PENNIES APPARENTLY CANNOT BE FOUND.]
From the parapet of the citadel which crowns the heights above Cairo, we
gazed at the extended view of roofs, mosques, minarets, and tombs of
caliphs, and listened to the story of the massacre of the Mamelukes and
the legend of the one who marvelously escaped by leaping on his horse
over the parapet to the ground sixty feet below. To convince us of the
truth of this legend, the dragoman showed the impression of the horse's
hoofs in the stone coping on the wall. The large Mosque of Mehemet Ali,
on the heights, is built of pure alabaster and carpeted with costly
rugs. The older Mosque of Sultan Ahmed, at the foot of the citadel hill,
is built of sandstone taken from the Pyramids, and, although partly in
ruins and with bare stone floors, it is yet beautiful.
"This mosque make Ahmed glad. He not want another built like it, so he
chop hand off architect," explained our good-natured dragoman, whose
control of English was limited, but he endeavored to relate the legends
and give information.
While returning from the citadel we came by an open-air market, where
Egyptians of many types were gathered in groups around piles of
merchandise and vegetables. Here our camera man, taking advantage of an
opportune moment, caught a dense mass of faces before the natives became
aware of his presence.
On Friday afternoon we visited the Monastery El Akbar to see the
religious exercises of the Twirling Dervishes, which take place there
every Friday afternoon. The shrill music, the fanatic faces, the
obeisance to the leader, the whirling men, the naked feet, and the
never-touching skirts, just as we beheld them, are pictured vividly by
Canon Rawnsley, in his "Idylls and Lyrics of the Nile."
THE DANCING DERVISHES.
The shrillest pipe man ever played
Was making music overhead,
And in a circle, down below,
Sat men whose faces seemed to show
Another world was all their trade.
Then up they rose, and one by one,
Shook skirts down, following him who led
To where the elder brother sat--
All gaberdine and conic hat,
Then bowed, and off for Heaven they spun.
Their hands were crossed upon their breast,
Their eyes were closed as if for sleep,
The naked foot that beat the floor,
To keep them spinning more and more,
Was careless of all need for rest.
Soon every flowing skirt began
Its milk-white spinning plane to keep,
Each brother of the holy band
Spun in and out with lifted hand,
A Teetotem no longer man.
The gray old man, their leader, went
Throughout his spinning fellowship,
And reverently to the ear,
Of every dervish circling near,
He spake a soft encouragement.
The piper piped a shriller psalm,
The dancers thro' their mystery moved,
Untouched, untouching, and the twirl
That set our giddy heads awhirl,
Served but to give their faces calm.
We drove from Cairo to the Pyramids of Gizeh, a distance of ten miles,
over a substantial macadamized avenue. This broad highway, elevated
eight or ten feet above the adjoining lands in order to protect it from
the flood of water during the time of inundation, was bordered for seven
miles with large shade trees, and was in perfect condition. On one side
of the avenue an electric tramway extended from the bridge at Cairo to
the Mena House Hotel near the Pyramids.
"We might have reached our destination more quickly in the cars," said
our manager as an electric car sped by us, "but at such speed we should
have missed much that is strange and curious. We thought it preferable
to take the trip in open carriages."
The scenes along the way as we drove to the Pyramids were indeed novel.
In the gardens in the environs of the city, the cabbage, onions, beans,
and strawberries were in readiness for the market, and in the fields,
the clover and forage plants, dark in color and luxuriant in growth,
were ready for the sickle, but the wheat was yet green. The fellahs--the
Egyptian farm-laborers--were cutting the rank clover in square patches
and stacking it on the backs of camels or donkeys. Along the road
stalked camels beneath huge stacks of fragrant clover, and donkeys so
laden with newly-cut forage that only their heads and feet could be
seen. A crooked-horned ox with an Arab farmer on his back ambled by. A
caravan of camels laden with blankets, tents, and military supplies,
accompanied by a guard of white-helmeted English soldiers, almost
blocked the road as they marched past. Bronzed-faced natives seated in
the shade dealt in sugar-cane stalks, cutting pieces of cane from the
pile of stalks beside them as they were sold. Turbaned Arabs sauntered
by, chewing with evident enjoyment the sweet stalks which they had
purchased. Bedouins from the desert rode past on camels bedecked with
tasseled trappings, swaying back and forth as they rode. Women, partly
veiled, coming from the wells, balanced on their heads large earthen
bottles filled with water.
"There are many pyramids," said the guide, as our carriage emerged from
the shade of the trees and the Pyramids were seen in the distance, "but
Cheops is the greatest, and it is the one that is ascended by visitors;
the other Pyramids are viewed at a distance but are visited by few.
Cheops is four hundred and fifty feet in height and each side of the
base measures seven hundred and fifty feet. It was originally much
larger and higher but the outer layers of stone were torn down and
carried away to Cairo to build mosques and palaces. The adjacent Pyramid
of Chepren is almost as large but as some of the steps are cased, it is
more difficult to ascend. When we arrive at the pyramids you may take
camels or donkeys and ride around the base of Cheops. Or if you prefer
to go on foot, you may walk around it, but walking in the sand is
tiresome. Then we will proceed to the Sphinx and, after viewing it,
descend to the excavated temple near the Sphinx. Afterwards, those who
feel equal to the exertion may climb to the summit of Cheops. As this
Pyramid is built of huge blocks of stone about three feet in thickness
each step upward requires some effort. The Bedouins, however, will
assist you in the ascent, two of them mounting the step ahead and
drawing you up while a third pushes behind."
[Illustration: THE TOMB MOSQUE OF THE KHALIF KAIT BEY WAS THE FINEST.]
As we neared them, the Pyramids, which at first had seemed small and
hazy in the distance, became distinct and grew in size. When very close
to them they appeared enormous, but their magnitude was not fully
appreciated until some hours later, after we had tramped through the
sand around the four sides of great Cheops. After that walk, a distance
of more than half a mile, we could judge with greater exactness the
immense proportions of the extensive base. The slope of the sides
prevented a fair conception of their height when looking upward at them;
but after reaching the top of Cheops, panting with the exertion of the
laborious climb in which we had been assisted by three Bedouins, we
looked down at the midgets moving on the sand below, and were convinced
that the altitude stated by the guide was not exaggerated.
The Pyramids of Gizeh stand upon a plateau about four hundred acres in
extent, which appeared to be thirty or more feet above the level of the
surrounding country. The surface of this plateau is a barren sandy
tract, bordered by cultivated land on the side toward the Nile and
merging on the west into the Libyan desert which stretches to the
distant hills. Just as far as the inundation of the Nile spreads or the
irrigating water was pumped, the land was fertile; where the surface
rose above the height reached by the water, the land was a barren waste.
Almost as suddenly as landing from an emerald sea on to a desert shore,
we stepped from a rich growth of verdure to a bare slope of yellow
sand.
At the foot of the Pyramid of Cheops a gesticulating, vociferous throng
of Bedouins crowded about us, shouting in Arabic mixed with a few
intelligible English words. Camel-drivers and donkey boys offered the
services of their animals to make the circuit; helpers, almost dragging
us away in their eagerness, insisted that we should climb to the summit;
and guides with candles in their hands importuned us to accompany them
into the gloomy interior. After a selection of camels and donkeys had
been made by those who desired to ride, the clamorous crowd of natives
separated, and we were allowed to start accompanied by but a few, who
followed in case they should be needed. "Madam might drop her shawl, or
want her umbrella carried, or need an arm to steady her in the saddle,"
explained the guide.
[Illustration: ASTRIDE ITS MOTHER'S SHOULDERS.]
"For scores of centuries," remarked the professor, as we stood before
the Sphinx, "the strong winds from the west have carried particles of
sand from the desert and deposited them around the Pyramids. Now the
original base of Cheops lies twenty or thirty feet beneath banks of sand
and debris that have collected around it. In the same manner the
encroaching particles, drifting like the light dry snows of the
prairies, have almost engulfed the Sphinx. Many times in the past the
sand has been shoveled away to prevent the Sphinx from being hidden from
sight, and if this excavation in which it now stands should be neglected
for a time, the desert winds would fill the pit again and gradually
cover the monument. The Granite Temple adjacent to the Sphinx was
covered over so completely in the progress of centuries that its
location was forgotten. It is but fifty years since the French
archaeologist Mariette discovered and excavated the interior of this
large structure, the exterior of which, as you see, yet remains embedded
in sand as far as the capstone on the walls."
After descending the steps that led down to the floor of the buried
temple and passing through rooms constructed of blocks of alabaster, we
stood in the main hall, surrounded by monolithic pillars of granite
which supported enormous blocks of the same material overhead. The guide
said that these huge blocks of granite had been brought from quarries at
Assuan, far up the Nile, but he could not tell how the ancient Egyptians
had been able to handle the monoliths.
[Illustration: ENTERED THE FAMILY BURIAL MOSQUE OF MOHAMMED ALI.]
"My theory may not be correct," said the professor, as we turned to him
for a reply to the query "but I will state it. We know how the great
blocks of limestone that were used in the erection of the Pyramids were
brought from the Libyan mountains; for the father of history, Herodotus,
relates the story. He says that the Egyptians constructed a solid road
sixty feet wide of polished stone from the quarry in the Lybian
mountains and over this smooth roadbed dragged or rolled the huge
blocks. He also states that as the work progressed, these blocks were
lifted by machines from step to step and imbedded in their places in the
pyramid. When granite or other stone had to be brought from a great
distance for the erection of temples and palaces, as for this granite
and alabaster temple of the Sphinx, the Egyptians probably adopted the
simplest way of conveying the material in a land where task-masters
drove tens of thousands of slaves to labor on the public works. That is,
they probably excavated canals from the Nile to the quarries,
supplementing these, where necessary, with stone roadways or slides, and
made other canals from the Nile to the location selected for the
buildings, and transported the unwieldy masses of stone on barges to
their destination."
"I made some calculations for comparison last night," continued the
professor, seeing that we were interested in his statements. "Professor
Petrie, the archaeologist, says that there are over two million large
blocks of stone in the Pyramid of Cheops, or ninety-two million cubic
feet."
"Now, Professor," said one of the ladies, interrupting him, "you are
getting above our comprehension when you soar into millions."
[Illustration: BEARING ON HIS BACK AN UNWIELDY GOATSKIN.]
"Am I?" he replied. "Well, I will leave the millions and give you
something more familiar. The Capitol at Washington is seven hundred and
fifty feet long,--just the length of each side of the base of
Cheops,--but the Capitol is not half that in width. The Capitol covers
an area of three and one-half acres; the Pyramid spreads over thirteen
acres. The apex of the Pyramid is one hundred and sixty feet higher than
the head of Freedom on the dome at Washington. The Capitol is a hollow
structure; the Pyramid, a solid mass, excepting the comparatively small
chamber of the tomb and passage ways. The stone used in the construction
of Cheops would be sufficient to build the Capitol and the Library of
Congress, and there would be enough material left over for capitol
buildings in each of the states in the Union. When you have time,
calculate how many miles of stone wall might be constructed with
ninety-two million cubic feet of stone. It is only by comparison that we
can comprehend the stupendous bulk of these magnificent monuments, and
realize the prodigious amount of labor that was required for their
erection."
It was but a short drive from the Hotel Grand Continental to the Muski,
the narrow street that is the centre of the bazaar district, a district
which every visitor is sure to find soon after his arrival in Cairo.
When we entered the crowded Muski, we left the broad avenues of the
modern city behind and walked in narrow Oriental streets through which
carriages are not allowed to go.
"Everything is novel and interesting in this busy thoroughfare," said
one of our party. "I suggest that we move along very slowly and stop
frequently. See that lemonade vender with the brass tank strapped to his
back. When he bent forward the water flowed from the spout over his
shoulder into the cup he held in his hand, without his touching the
tank. He is waiting for his customer to produce the pennies that
apparently cannot be found."
The street scenes in the Muski were so kaleidoscopic that it is
impossible to give more than a suggestion of their character. A few
representative scenes can be given and around these the imagination must
picture a constantly changing throng, not hurrying as in busy American
cities, but moving leisurely in the Eastern manner. The crowd was
orderly, but not quiet, for tongues were in constant use. Merchants
and customers chattered and parleyed. Venders of licorice water and
sweetmeats did not permit their presence to be overlooked, and donkeys
occasionally joined in the chorus. Each figure unfamiliar to our Western
eyes, in turban or in fez, in slippers or in bare feet, in scant gown of
cotton or full robe of silk, was a subject worthy of being considered
individually.
[Illustration: FIGURES UNFAMILIAR TO OUR WESTERN EYES.]
A baby, astride its mother's shoulder, clung to her head while she
walked along and made her purchases, apparently unconscious of her
child. A bare-footed water carrier, bearing on his back an unwieldy
goatskin distended with its contents, cried, "Water for sale." A donkey
boy pushed aside the crowd to let the closely veiled, silk-mantled lady
rider pass through on her caparisoned donkey. Muscular fellahs, or
peasants, in brown skull caps, and blue shirts which reached to their
ankles, their feet bare, their teeth remarkable for whiteness, sauntered
along chewing stalks of sugar-cane. Women of the poorer class passed by,
wearing scanty gowns of plain blue cotton, heavy copper bracelets, and
nose ornaments of brass, which held in place the veils that covered the
lower part of their faces but did not conceal the beauty spots tattooed
on their foreheads. A funeral procession, with professional mourners
chanting monotonously a hymn to Allah, followed a casket borne on the
shoulders of men. And these curious scenes, which we tried to catch with
the camera, formed but unimportant parts in an ever-moving picture in
which were intermingled the costumes, colors, and facial characteristics
of dervishes, priests, and soldiers, of Arabs, Nubians, Turks, and
Americans.
[Illustration: IN THE COURT OF THE ALABASTER MOSQUE IS A FOUNTAIN.]
The Muski and the crooked little passage-ways that intersected it were
lined with small shops where many of the dealers sat cross-legged on
platforms within arm's reach of their stock of goods. The stores for the
sale of each kind of goods had a special quarter of their own. At one
place we saw the shops of the coppersmiths with stocks of bright
kettles, pitchers, basins, trays, and pans; at another, the stores of
the shoemakers, where hundreds of bright red slippers dangled on lines
overhead. In one crooked alley, but four feet in width, we watched the
goldsmiths, squatted in narrow quarters, busily at work with brazier and
blowpipes and curious little tools, hammering, twisting, and welding
chains of gold, and making ornaments of silver filagree.
We bought souvenirs at the stalls of the fez dealers, where but one
style of headgear was sold, always red in color, and with prices varying
according to the quality of the cloth and lining. We stopped at the
warerooms of the brass-smiths, which were larger in size than the
ordinary shops, and found these filled with an array of hammered trays,
censers, bowls, tankards, curiously wrought lamps, and ornamented
candlesticks, that attracted many buyers. We looked into the little
factories of the saddlers, which were gay with red and yellow trappings
for donkeys and horses, and where the saddlers were stitching with
bright colored-threads.
The light open-front workshops of the makers of hempen camel harness
were hung with the twisted rope and tassel adornments of variegated
colors with which the Bedouin delights to array his ship of the desert.
The stores of the grocers were adorned with long decorated candles
suspended by the wicks. We saw hundreds of tiny bazaars for the sale of
perfumes, placed side by side in a narrow lane where the air was scented
with musk and attar of roses; and we walked through narrow streets
where, each kind in its own section, earthen water jars, lanterns,
books, ornamented leather work, gems, and precious stones were displayed
for sale.
The guide insisted that we should spend a little time in the carpet
stores in a side street. We yielded to his entreaties, and were
surprised by the immense stacks of exquisite silk rugs; but to the
courteous salesman's offer to show us everything in his place, we were
compelled by lack of time to reply, "Another day." When we arrived at
the more prominent silk bazaars, the ladies wished to buy some light
shawls interwoven with gold thread and table covers embroidered with
silk. They soon found out, however, that, as in the other Oriental
cities, much time would be required for bargaining, and so the shopping
was put off until the sight-seeing was over.