A NUBIAN HIGHWAY
Opposite the town of Aswân, a short distance below the First Cataract of
the Nile, there rises an island known to travellers by its Greek name of
Elephantine. The river sweeps down from the cataract to east and west;
southwards one may watch it flowing around a dozen dark clumps of
granite rocks, which thrust themselves as it were breathless above the
water; and northwards almost without hindrance it passes between the
hills and palm-trees of the mainland. Nowadays should one stand upon the
mounds which mark the site of the ancient city of Elephantine, and look
east and north, one would feel that modern civilisation had hidden for
ever the scenes of the past, and had prevented the imagination from
re-picturing the place as it was in the older days. The huge Cataract
Hotel overshadows the ruined city, and stares down from its pinnacle of
granite on to the tumbled stones of ancient temples. On the island
itself, opposite this hotel, the elaborate and ultra-modern rest-house
of the Ministry of Public Works rises amidst its terraced gardens; and
farther to the north stands the imposing Savoy Hotel, surrounded by
luxuriant trees and flowers unknown to the ancient Egyptians. Eastwards
the long, neat promenade of Aswân edges the river, backed by the Grand
Hotel, the Government offices, and other large buildings; and at one
end the noisy railway station tells the insistent tale of the Present.
During the winter one may watch the busy launches and small craft plying
to and fro, and may see the quality and fashion of Europe amusing itself
at either end of the passage; while at night the brilliant lights blaze
into the waters of the Nile from a thousand electric lamps, and the
sounds of the latest tune drift out through open windows. The place is
modern: one sips one’s whisky-and-soda above the crushed-down remains of
Pharaonic splendours, plays tennis in a garden laid out above the
libraries of the Ptolemies, and reads the _Daily Mail_ where, maybe,
melancholy Juvenal wrote his Fifteenth Satire.
But should one turn now to the west and south a different impression
might be obtained. On the island still stands the imposing gateway of
the rich temple destroyed for the sake of its building-stone in the days
of Mohammed Ali; and near it, not many years ago, an archæologist
uncovered the intact burial vault of the sacred rams of the Nile-god
Khnum. The rocky hills of the western mainland tower above the island,
great drifts of golden sand carrying the eye from the summit to the
water’s edge; and here, cut into the rocks, are the tombs of the ancient
princes of Elephantine. In this direction there is hardly anything that
is more modern than the ruined monastery of St. Simeon, built at the
head of a sandy valley in the early days of Christianity, and destroyed
by the fierce brother of Saladin in 1173 A.D. With one’s back to the
hotels, and one’s face to the changeless hills, the history of the old
city is able to be traced with something of the feeling of reality to
aid the thoughts.
One period of that history stands out clearly and distinctly amidst the
dim course of far-off events. From being a stronghold of a savage tribe
the south end of the island had become covered by the houses and streets
of a fine city, named _Abu_ or “Elephant-city” (and hence Elephantine),
no doubt after the elephant symbol of its chieftain. The feudal
tendencies of the Vth and VIth Dynasties--about B.C. 2750 to 2475--had
brought power and wealth to the local princes in many parts of Egypt;
and here the family of the chieftains of the island had begun to rise to
a degree of some importance. This was largely due to the fact that to
them was entrusted the office of “Keeper of the Door of the South,” and
the protecting of the Egyptian frontier at the first Cataract from
invasion by the negro tribes beyond.
The city rose amidst its trees and rocks at the foot of the cataract, at
a point where in those days the river still ran swift, and where the
distant roar of waters continuously drummed upon the ears. On the
eastern mainland opposite the island stood the huts and hovels of the
great _Swanu_, or market, which gave its name to the later town of
Aswân; and here the negroes, coming from the upper reaches of the river
by the valley road which avoids the rocks of the cataract, met and
traded with the inhabitants of Elephantine. At the far end of this road
the barren islands of Philæ, Bigeh, and others were regarded as neutral
ground, and the rocks of the mainland were not yet forbidden territory
to the Egyptians for some miles up-stream. But beyond this the country
was little known, and those who penetrated into it took their lives in
their hands.
First there came the land of the Kau tribes; and then, farther to the
south, the Wawat on the east bank and the Sethu on the west dwelt in
barbaric independence. Still farther to the south lived the warlike
Mazoi, who might sometimes be seen at the market, ostrich feathers in
their hair and bows and clubs in their hands. The land of Arthet lay to
the south again; and lastly, not much below the Second Cataract and the
modern Wady Hâlfa, there lived the almost unknown people of Aam.
Who dwelt to the south of this the Egyptians did not know. That
territory was “The Land of the Ghosts”: the perilous borders of the
world, and the misty ocean into which no man had penetrated, were there
to be encountered. To the inhabitants of the brilliant little metropolis
the peoples of the upper river appeared to be a hazy folk; and the
farther south their land the more mysterious were their surroundings and
the ghostlier their ways. The negroes who came to the market no doubt
told stories then, as they did in later times, of the great stature and
the marvellous longevity of those distant races; and though but a couple
of hundred miles of winding river separated the Egyptian frontier from
that of the land of Aam, that distance sufficed to twist the thoughts of
the market-gossiper from the mortal to the immortal.
In archaic times an unknown Egyptian king had penetrated some sixty
miles up the river, and had left a record on one of the rocks[6]; and
King Sneferu of the IIIrd Dynasty had devastated a part of the country.
But from that time until the beginning of the Vth Dynasty the land and
its people, left unmolested, had drifted once more into the pale regions
of mystery. As the nobles of Elephantine grew in wealth and power,
however, their attention began to be turned with some degree of fixidity
towards the south; and when the energetic King Sahura came to the
throne, it was felt that the time had arrived for the probing of the
mystery.
The roads which led to the south along the eastern bank of the river,
and which were used by the negroes near the frontier when coming to the
market, were not practicable for caravans bound for distant goals; and
the Egyptians turned their eyes, therefore, to the western hills, behind
which the sorrowful lands of the Dead were somewhere situated. Almost
exactly opposite the city lay a sand-covered valley, in which now stands
the ruined monastery mentioned above. From the island a boat carried one
across to the little reedy bay, from whence a trudge of half a mile or
so over the soft sand brought one to the upper levels of the desert.
Looking towards the north, the road which led eventually to Lower Egypt
was to be seen; to the west the eye wandered over the undulating
wilderness to the far horizon, made awful by the presence of the Dead;
and to the south the sand-drifts and the rocky hillocks hid the
untravelled paths to Aam and the Land of the Ghosts. Keeping the river
on the left hand, it seemed to the Egyptians that they might here pass
over the upper desert as far as the gods permitted man to penetrate; and
a descent to the Nile at any convenient point would bring them, like a
bolt from heaven, upon the tribes there settled.
The army of Sahura--perhaps a thousand men with numerous
baggage-donkeys--set out along this road, and after a march of a few
days, as nearly straight ahead as possible, struck the river (which
bends towards the west) at a point in the land of Arthet, now known as
Tomâs. A tribute was no doubt collected from the rich fields which there
border the Nile; an inscription recording the name of one of the
captains was cut upon a convenient face of rock; and the army returned
to Egypt to publish its heroism in the streets of Elephantine. Another
expedition in the reign of King Asesa followed after a few years, the
event being again recorded on the rocks. Farther than Arthet, however,
these armed forces did not venture to go; nor was this Nubian highroad
used with great frequency during the following years.
About the year 2500 B.C. a prince of Elephantine named Herkhuf made up
his mind to penetrate farther towards the mysterious lands of the south.
It is forty-four centuries since he set out over the desert, with the
wind whistling past his ears and a powerful sun warming his bones and
his heart within him; yet the story of his adventures may still be read,
the path by which he travelled may still be discerned, and the names of
his captains may still be seen on the rocks of the land of Arthet.
Herkhuf, having obtained the necessary order from the Pharaoh, set out
with his father Ata, “in order,” as he says, “to explore a road to the
country of Aam.” The road which he explored and opened up was probably a
continuation of the route from Elephantine to Arthet, passing not far
back from the river, and descending to the water between Abu Simbel and
Wady Hâlfa in the heart of the land of Aam. The expedition was entirely
successful, and Herkhuf states that he was “very greatly praised for
it.” Emboldened by the fame which his enterprise had brought him, he
made a second expedition to Aam, and was gone from Egypt eight months. A
third excursion was more adventurous. Herkhuf set out upon the
“Oasis-road,” which runs from a point north of Aswân to Kurkur Oasis,
and thence branches to Tomâs or Arthet and to the Oasis of Khârgeh which
lies westward, and which in those days was inhabited by Libyan tribes.
At the Kurkur junction Herkhuf met with an army, under the leadership of
the Prince of Aam, which was on its way to chastise these Libyans; but
how the wily Egyptian contrived to use it instead as an escort to his
own men back to Aam, and how he returned to Egypt through the hostile
territory of Sethu, Arthet, and Wawat, with 300 asses laden with the
presents of his host, are tales too long to narrate here.
One story only may be recorded in this chapter. During a fourth
expedition to Aam, Herkhuf had managed to obtain one of the dwarfs or
pigmies who inhabited a region of the Land of the Ghosts. He at once
informed the king, now the boy Pepy II.; and in reply he received the
following letter, which is, perhaps, the earliest example in the world’s
history of a private communication:--
“I have noted,” writes the King, “the matter of your letter which
you have sent to me, in order that I might know that you have
returned in safety from Aam, with the army which was with you....
You say in your letter that you have brought a dancing pigmy of the
god of the Land of the Ghosts, like the pigmy which the Treasurer
Baurded brought from the Land of Pount
[Illustration: The Nile at Aswân. On the hills to the left is the
highroad to Nubia.]
in the time of Asesa. You say to my majesty, ‘Never before has one
like him been brought by anyone who has visited Aam’.... Come
northward, therefore, to the court immediately, and bring this
pigmy with you, which you must bring living, prosperous, and
healthy, from the Land of the Ghosts, to dance for the King and to
rejoice and gladden the heart of the King. When he goes down with
you into the vessel, appoint trustworthy people to be beside him at
either side of the vessel: take care that he does not fall into the
water. When he sleeps at night, appoint trustworthy people who
shall sleep beside him in his cabin; and make an inspection ten
times each night. My majesty desires to see this pigmy more than
the gifts of Sinai and of Pount. If you arrive in court, the pigmy
being with you, alive, prosperous, and healthy, my majesty will do
for you a greater thing than that which was done for the Treasurer
Baurded in the time of Asesa, according to the heart’s desire of my
majesty to see this pigmy. Orders have been sent to the chief of
the New Towns to arrange that food shall be taken from every
store-city and every temple (on the road) without stinting.”
How easy it is to picture the excited boy awaiting the arrival of this
wonder from the south, or to watch in the imagination the long caravan
as it winds its way over the western hills from Aam to Elephantine,
where Herkhuf and his prize will take ship to Memphis.
Later in the reign of Pepy II., the tribes of Arthet and Wawat revolted,
and the Nubian highroad echoed with the songs of Egyptian soldiers. The
commander of the expedition, named Pepynakht, slew a large number of the
unfortunate negroes, took many prisoners, and collected a great quantity
of plunder. It was perhaps during this disturbance that a certain prince
of Elephantine, named Mekhu, was murdered in Arthet. News of his death
was brought to his son Sabna by a ship’s captain who had himself
escaped. Sabna immediately collected a few soldiers and a hundred
baggage-donkeys, bearing presents of honey, oil, ointment, and fine
linen, and set out upon the same highroad towards Arthet. By judicious
gifts of this oil and honey he was able to discover the body of his
father; and, loading it upon a donkey, he commenced the return journey.
Before he was clear of Arthet, however, he found it necessary to avert
an attack by presenting a southern negro chieftain with an elephant tusk
three cubits in length, at the same time hinting that his best tusk was
six cubits in length. But how the expedition arrived safely at
Elephantine, and how Sabna buried his father there in the western hills
behind the modern Savoy Hotel, and how he was rewarded by the king for
his really plucky undertaking, cannot here be related at length.
There was now no more mystery about the country on this side of the
Second Cataract, and by the perseverance of these princes of Elephantine
the way was made ready for the conquest of the Sudan, which the
Egyptians commenced in the XIIth Dynasty and completed in the XVIIIth.
We of the present day cannot, perhaps, appreciate how much pluck and
obstinacy these nobles required in the undertaking of these expeditions.
Not only were they penetrating into lands which were inhabited by the
most savage tribes, but they believed these tribes to be endowed with
superhuman powers. From childhood they had heard stories of their
magical powers; while in pushing their way into the distant land of Aam
they assuredly expected to encounter those ghosts who hovered at the
edge of the world. Their caravan routes over the western hills ran
dangerously near the terrible territory of the Dead; and, to their
superstitious minds, their daily marches and their nightly camps were
beset by monsters and by bogies compared to which the fierce Mazoi were
as naught.
The reader who finds interest in the picture of Herkhuf exploring the
roads of Aam, and of Sabna searching for his father’s body in hostile
Arthet, will ask whether any definite traces of the highroad still
remain. One would have thought that after four thousand four hundred
years it would have utterly disappeared; but this is not the case. Let
the visitor to Aswân step out some afternoon from the hall of his hotel,
where the string band throbs in his ears and the latest Parisian gowns
shimmer before his eyes, and let him take boat to the little western bay
behind the ruins of Elephantine. Here in the late afternoon the long
blue shadows fall, and he may walk in coolness over the sand towards the
monastery which stands on the higher ground before him. At the top of
the hill to his left he will presently see, some distance away, a large
isolated boulder near the tomb of some old Moslim saint; and making his
way up the hillside towards this boulder, he will suddenly come upon a
paved causeway[7] which sweeps up over the sand to the rocky summit.
Rough flat blocks of sandstone form the paving, and these are only here
and there overwhelmed by the drifting sand, though it is evident that
the road has been entirely buried at the point where it approaches the
water.
Mounting to the hill-top, the causeway is seen to pass within a few
yards of the great boulder, which one now finds to have been surrounded
by a rough wall, as though to form a kind of sanctuary or chapel. On
the sides of the rock there are several inscriptions recording the
coming of various officials of the empire--tax-collectors,
superintendents of the Nubian gold mines, and so on. It is evident from
this that the road was used for many a long year after Herkhuf and Sabna
had done with it; though it now possessed for the travellers no terrors,
nor did it lead any more to the Land of the Ghosts.
At the point where the causeway passes the boulder the hard surface of
the upper desert literally bristles with countless little heaps of
stones, each consisting of a small upright slab of rock held in place by
two or three others. Fragments of pottery indicate that a bowl, perhaps
containing water, had been placed beside each pile. Here, then, are the
memorials of the travellers who set out for distant Arthet from the fair
city on the island, which may from this point be seen floating in the
blue waters of the Nile below. These stones are the prayers of those who
asked a prosperous journey from the gods of their city: from the old
ram-headed Khnum who lived in the dark caverns below the Nile; from
Satet, the horned goddess whose bow and arrows were the terror of her
enemies; and from Anuket with the crown of lofty feathers. For a short
distance one may follow the paved road, now, as it passes southwards and
westwards amidst the blackened rocks and golden sand-drifts of this
lifeless land; but presently it tops a deeply shadowed ridge of rock and
sand, and so descends into, and is lost amidst, the wide, undulating
desert, ablaze with the light of the setting sun.
There are not many persons who will find themselves able to follow the
road by camel, as I did, or to take ship up the Nile, to Arthet, in
order to see the terminus of the first part of the highway. The road
descends to the river behind the rich fields of the straggling village
of Tomâs, near Derr, the present capital of Lower Nubia. The scenery
here is beautiful in the extreme. A short distance down-stream a bluff
of rock, projecting to the water’s edge, and half-covered with
drift-sand, marks the probable boundary between Arthet and Sethu. One
might slide here from the top of the bluff down the golden slopes to the
verdant thorn-bushes which dip towards the river, and from either side
of the track one’s figure would be seen sharply against the deep blue of
the sky. Sliding, one would see on the left the rocks and the sand of
Sethu, and distantly the superb array of the mountains of Wawat; while
on the right the green bay into which the road descended would lie
spread as a feast to the eye. Farther up-stream a wooded island rests
upon the mirror of the Nile, whither the inhabitants must often have
fled at the approach of the Egyptians from the desert.
On the low cliffs which form the backing of this bay many a captain of
an expedition or master of a caravan has written his name, and sometimes
a date has been added. “The Superintendent of all the caravan-conductors
of the Land of the South: Sabna”: “the Captain of the Soldiers: Akab”;
“the Captain of the ships of Asesa: Khnumhotep”; “the sixth year:
written by the Captain of the soldiers ...”: these are examples of the
inscriptions which were here cut into the surface of the rock, and which
to the archæologist are of the first importance. A caravan-conductor
named Ara, who is probably to be identified with the father of Herkhuf,
has left his name here; and more than once Sabna occurs. But perhaps
the most interesting of these records are three short inscriptions
which tell of an expedition to Arthet under the almost unknown Pharaoh
Hornefersa, who probably reigned about B.C. 2400. It is in one of these
inscriptions that the name of this country--Arthet--is given, thereby
making it possible definitely to locate the territory of these people,
and to identify this highway without any further question with the
“Elephantine road” referred to in the inscriptions as leading from
Elephantine to Arthet.
Above these rocks one steps on to the hard surface of the desert, and
the eye may travel over the broken ground to the north for many a mile,
and may follow the road by which Herkhuf carried home his pigmy, and
Sabna his father’s body, until the brown rocks meet the blue sky. To the
south-west the second portion of the highway, leading on to Aam, may be
followed; but the point at which it descends again to the river has not
been identified, though one may safely say that the terminus lay between
Abu Simbel and the Second Cataract. Here the country has a different
aspect. On the west bank of the Nile the sand lies thickly, and humps
itself into low hillocks covered with scrub. Between these one may walk
in the cool shade of groves of _sunt_ and tamarisk, where flocks of
goats stand dreaming on the pathway and birds sing overhead. On the east
bank isolated hills of sandstone rise suddenly from the plain, and are
reflected in the river as in a flawless mirror. The land of Aam is as
beautiful as that of Arthet, though altogether different in character.
The later history of the highway cannot be traced in much detail. From
the VIIth to the XIIth Dynasties the Egyptian Government was seldom
strong enough at home to attempt to look after affairs abroad, and Lower
Nubia relapsed into a state of independence. Amenemhat, the founder of
the XIIth Dynasty, about 2000 B.C., was thus obliged to reconquer the
country; but his expedition seems to have travelled up the Nile and not
across the desert. A few reigns later a fortress was built at the modern
Anâybeh, in the land of Arthet, some miles above the terminus of the
highway from Elephantine; and the road must now have been used
continuously as the express route from the city to the fortress. This
stronghold is so much ruined and sand-covered that it has escaped
observation until now, although its position has been ascertained from
inscriptions. Mention is made of a fortress named Taray, and its
distance from a certain known place is given, which exactly locates it
at Anâybeh. At about the same date a large fortress was built on the
west bank of the Second Cataract, and at the extreme north end of the
highroad the walls of Elephantine were now strengthened.
Above the Second Cataract lay the land of Kush, and as civilisation
advanced southwards the territory of the Ghosts had perforce to retreat
before it. The Egyptians now knew that very human negroes inhabited the
country beyond Aam; but they could still ask themselves in whispers what
manner of bogies dwelt to the south of Kush. While the immortals were
falling back, however, the mortals from above the Second Cataract were
surely pushing forward. The people of Aam were slowly being displaced by
them, and in consequence were hustling the tribes of Arthet. During the
reign of Senusert III. (1887 B.C.) the incursions of the negroes of Kush
assumed the proportions of an invasion and the Egyptians were obliged
to wage an expensive and lengthy war upon them. When at last they were
driven back beyond the Second Cataract, the Pharaoh set up a
boundary-stone; and the words which he ordered to be inscribed upon it
show plainly enough what a surprise it was to him to find that his
enemies had possessed none of those superhuman powers which his subjects
had attributed to them.
“Why,” he says, “they are not a mighty people after all; they are
poor and broken in heart. My majesty has seen them; it is not an
untruth. I captured their women, I carried off their subjects, went
forth to their wells, smote their bulls. I reaped their grain, and
set fire thereto. I swear as my father lived for me I speak in
truth, without a lie therein coming out of my mouth.”
The last sentence tells of the king’s fear lest tradition should conquer
proven fact, and his soldiers should endow the negroes of Kush with
those mysterious powers of which their close proximity to the Land of
Ghosts and the end of the world gave them the use.
During the XVIIIth Dynasty (1580-1350 B.C.) the highroad was used
continuously both by the troops which were being launched against the
Sudân, and by the officials who came to collect the taxes or to
administer the laws. Great changes had taken place since the old days.
The Land of Ghosts had disappeared almost entirely from the geography,
though still it might exist somewhere above Khartûm. The people of Aam,
now more correctly called Emaam, had entirely absorbed Arthet, and Sethu
had fallen to the share of Wawat. Persons travelling by the highroad,
and descending to the river at Tomâs or near the Second Cataract, found
themselves in the sphere of influence of Emaam at either place. One
obtains some idea of the inhabitant of this once mysterious land from a
painting in the tomb of Huy, the viceroy of the south, at Thebes. Here
one sees a procession of negro princes who have come to do homage to the
Pharaoh’s representatives. They have evidently travelled by the
highroad, for the Prince of Emaam rides in a heavy chariot drawn by two
bulls, while his retinue walk behind him. A prince of Wawat is also
shown; while the chieftains of Kush are there in numbers, bringing with
them the produce of their country. Their clothes are more or less
Egyptian in style, and their wealth in gold is such as an Egyptian’s
eyes might stare at. In this sober, prosperous company, one looks in
vain for a sign of that savage ferocity which made them the terror of
Elephantine.
In the XIXth Dynasty (1350-1205 B.C.), when the armies of Rameses the
Great and his successors passed up to the wars in the Sudân, the
Elephantine road must have been one of the main routes of communication.
The name of Rameses the Great is writ large upon the rocks of Tomâs, in
contrast to the modest little records of those infinitely greater men of
the early days. No so long afterwards it was the people of the Sudân who
were using the road to march on Egypt, and soon the Egyptians were
obliged to bow the knee to a negro Pharaoh. Later when they were once
more the masters of their own affairs, the tax-gatherers returned to
Emaam, and the names of some have been left on the road.
At this time Elephantine had become a city of considerable wealth and
importance. Splendid temples rose amidst the houses and the trees, and
fortified walls around the south end of the island frowned down upon the
swift river. Priests, soldiers, and nobles walked the streets amongst
the throng of the townspeople, or sailed to and fro over the broken
waters. At the foot of the western hills, the bay from which the Nubian
highway ran must have often been the scene of the busy loading and
unloading of pack-donkeys; and at this time there may have been a
masonry landing-stage at the river’s edge to terminate worthily the
paved causeway.
Then came the Greeks and the Romans, and one may picture perspiring
legionaries hastening along the highroad to join Petronius in his chase
of the one-eyed queen Kandake and her flying Ethiopians. One may see the
agents of Shems-ed-Dulah, the brother of Saladin, passing along to rout
out Christianity from Nubia; and presently come the barbaric Mamelukes,
driven before the armies of Ibrahim Pasha. The last great scene in the
long history of this most ancient highroad was enacted not so many years
ago. The Dervishes--the modern inhabitants of the Land of the
Ghosts--marching on Egypt from the Sudân, picked up the road at the
Second Cataract, at its earliest terminus, and headed towards Tomâs. An
English and Egyptian force, travelling southwards, met and utterly
defeated them some seven miles back from the river, behind the village
of Toshkeh, not far from Abu Simbel. And if one journeys direct from the
ancient land of Arthet to the land of Aam, the bones of the dead and the
_débris_ of their camp will be found strewn to right and left over the
surface of the highway, as recorded in the last chapter.
Travelling in Egypt one sees so many remains of the solemn ceremonies of
the ancient Egyptians, and reading at home one meets with so many
representations of the sacred rites, that it is a real relief to come
across some relic, such as this highroad, of human energy and toil. In
the courts of the temples one has pictured the processions of the
priests and the kneeling throng of the people. One has heard in the
imagination the rhythmic chants, has smelt the heavy incense, and has
seen the smoke of the sacrifice rising to the roof. Glum Pharaohs have
stalked across the picture, raising their stiff hands to the dull gods,
and rows of bedraggled prisoners have been led to the sanctuary, roped
in impossible contortions. One has visited, or has read of a thousand
tombs; and the slow funerals have passed in depressing array. But here
on this highroad over the western hills, where the north wind blows free
and the kites circle and call, where there comes vigour into the limbs
and ambition into the heart, these relics of old adventures appeal with
wonderful force. Here there are no mysteries except the mystery of the
land to the south, and there are no prayers save the asking of a
successful journey, and the piling of four stones to the honour of the
gods. One does not pace through holy places whispering “how weird!” but
stick in hand, and whistling a tune down the wind, one follows in the
footsteps of the bold caravan-masters of the past; and one thanks them
from the bottom of the heart for having played a man’s part on their
page of the world’s history to serve for all time as an example. When
the amusements of the luxurious hotels have given out, and the solemnity
of the ancient ruins has begun to pall, the spirits of Herkhuf and of
Sabna, of the captains and the caravan-conductors, are always to be
found waiting on the breezy hill-tops behind the island of Elephantine,
at the head of the Nubian highway.