THE RED NILE
On the morrow of this night I found the Prince alone for a little while,
and put him in mind of certain ancient manuscripts that he wished to
read, which could only be consulted at Thebes where I might copy them;
also of others that were said to be for sale there. He answered that
they could wait, but I replied that the latter might find some other
purchaser if I did not go at once.
“You are over fond of long journeys upon my business, Ana,” he
said. Then he considered me curiously for a while, and since he could
read my mind, as indeed I could his, saw that I knew all, and added in
a gentle voice:
“You should have done as I told you, and spoken first. If so, who
knows——”
“You do, Prince,” I answered, “you and another.”
“Go, and the gods be with you, friend, but stay not too long copying
those rolls, which any scribe can do. I think there is trouble at hand
in Egypt, and I shall need you at my side. Another who holds you dear
will need you also.”
“I thank my lord and that other,” I said, bowing, and went.
Moreover, while I was making some humble provision for my journey, I
found that this was needless, since a slave came to tell me that the
Prince’s barge was waiting to sail with the wind. So in that barge I
travelled to Thebes like a great noble, or a royal mummy being borne to
burial. Only instead of wailing priests, until I sent them back to
Memphis, musicians sat upon the prow, and when I willed, dancing girls
came to amuse my leisure and, veiled in golden nets, to serve at my
table.
So I journeyed as though I were the Prince himself, and as one who was
known to have his ear was made much of by the governors of the Nomes,
the chief men of the towns, and the high priests of the temples at
every city where we moored. For, as I have said, although Amenmeses sat
upon the throne, Seti still ruled in the hearts of the folk of Egypt.
Moreover, as I sailed further up the Nile to districts where little was
known of the Israelites, and the troubles they were bringing on the
land, I found this to be so more and more. Why is it, the Great Ones
would whisper in my ear, that his Highness the Prince Seti does not
hold his father’s place? Then I would tell them of the Hebrews, and
they would laugh and say:
“Let the Prince unfurl his royal banner here, and we will show him
what we think of the question of these Israelitish slaves. May not the
Heir of Egypt form his own judgment on such a matter as to whether they
should abide there in the north, or go away into that wilderness which
they desire?”
To all of which, and much like it, I would only answer that their words
should be reported. More I did not, and indeed did not dare to say,
since everywhere I found that I was being followed and watched by the
spies of Pharaoh.
At length I came to Thebes and took up my abode in a fine house that was
the property of the Prince, which I found that a messenger had
commanded should be made ready for me. It stood near by the entrance to
the Avenue of Sphinxes, which leads to the greatest of all the Theban
temples, where is that mighty columned hall built by the first Seti and
his son, Rameses II, the Prince’s grandfather.
Here, having entrance to the place, I would often wander at night, and
in my spirit draw as near to heaven as ever it has been my lot to
travel. Also, crossing the Nile to the western bank, I visited that
desolate valley where the rulers of Egypt lie at rest. The tomb of
Pharaoh Meneptah was still unsealed, and accompanied by a single priest
with torches, I crept down its painted halls and looked upon the
sarcophagus of him whom so lately I had seen seated in glory upon the
throne, wondering, as I looked, how much or how little he knew of all
that passed in Egypt to-day.
Moreover, I copied the papyri that I had come to seek, in which there
was nothing worth preserving, and some of real value that I discovered
in the ancient libraries of the temples, and purchased others. One of
these indeed told a very strange tale that has given me much cause for
thought, especially of late years now when all my friends are dead.
Thus I spent two months, and should have stayed longer had not
messengers reached me from the Prince saying that he desired my return.
Of these, one followed within three days of the other, and his words
were:
“Think you, Scribe Ana, that because I am no more Prince of Egypt I am
no longer to be obeyed? If so, bear in mind that the gods may decree
that one day I shall grow taller than ever I was before, and then be
sure that I will remember your disobedience, and make you shorter by a
head. Come swiftly, my friend, for I grow lonely, and need a man to
talk with.”
To which I replied, that I returned as fast as the barge would carry me,
being so heavily laden with the manuscripts that I had copied and
purchased.
So I started, being, to tell truth, glad to get away, for this reason.
Two nights before, when I was walking alone from the great temple of
the house, a woman dressed in many colours appeared and accosted me as
such lost ones do. I tried to shake her off, but she clung to me, and I
saw that she had drunk more than enough of wine. Presently she asked,
in a voice that I thought familiar, if I knew who was the officer that
had come to Thebes on the business of some Royal One and abode in the
dwelling that was known as House of the Prince. I answered that his
name was Ana.
“Once I knew an Ana very well,” she said, “but I left
him.”
“Why?” I asked, turning cold in my limbs, for although I could not
see her face because of a hood she wore, now I began to be afraid.
“Because he was a poor fool,” she answered, “no man at all,
but one who was always thinking about writings and making them, and
another came my way whom I liked better until he deserted me.”
“And what happened to this Ana?” I asked.
“I do not know. I suppose he went on dreaming, or perhaps he took
another wife; if so, I am sorry for her. Only, if by chance it is the
same that has come to Thebes, he must be wealthy now, and I shall go
and claim him and make him keep me well.”
“Had you any children?” I asked.
“Only one, thank the gods, and that died—thank the gods again, for
otherwise it might have lived to be such as I am,” and she sobbed once
in a hard fashion and then fell to her vile endearments.
As she did so, the hood slipped from her head and I saw that the face
was that of my wife, still beauteous in a bold fashion, but grown
dreadful with drink and sin. I trembled from head to foot, then said in
the disguised voice that I had used to her.
“Woman, I know this Ana. He is dead and you were his ruin. Still,
because I was his friend, take this and go reform your ways,” and I
drew from my robe and gave to her a bag containing no mean weight of
gold.
She snatched it as a hawk snatches, and seeing its contents by the
starlight, thanked me, saying:
“Surely Ana dead is worth more than Ana alive. Also it is well that he
is dead, for he is gone where the child went, which he loved more than
life, neglecting me for its sake and thereby making me what I am. Had
he lived, too, being as I have said a fool, he would have had more
ill-luck with women, whom he never understood. Farewell, friend of Ana,
who have given me that which will enable me to find another husband,”
and laughing wildly she reeled off behind a sphinx and vanished into
the darkness.
For this reason, then, I was glad to escape from Thebes. Moreover, that
miserable one had hurt me sorely, making me sure of what I had only
guessed, namely, that with women I was but a fool, so great a fool that
then and there I swore by my guardian god that never would I look with
love on one of them again, an oath which I have kept well whatever
others I may have broken. Again she stabbed me through with the talk of
our dead child, for it is true that when that sweet one took flight to
Osiris my heart broke and in a fashion has never mended itself again.
Lastly, I feared lest it might also be true that I had neglected the
mother for the sake of this child which was the jewel of my worship,
yes, and is, and thereby helped her on to shame. So much did this
thought torment me that through an agent whom I trusted, who believed
that I was but providing for one whom I had wronged, I caused enough to
be paid to her to keep her in comfort.
She did marry again, a merchant about whom she had cast her toils, and
in due course spent his wealth and brought him to ruin, after which he
ran away from her. As for her, she died of her evil habits in the third
year of the reign of Seti II. But, the gods be thanked she never knew
that the private scribe of Pharaoh’s chamber was that Ana who had
been her husband. Here I will end her story.
Now as I was passing down the Nile with a heart more heavy than the
great stone that served as anchor on the barge, we moored at dusk on
the third night by the side of a vessel that was sailing up Nile with a
strong northerly wind. On board this boat was an officer whom I had
known at the Court of Pharaoh Meneptah, travelling to Thebes on duty.
This man seemed so much afraid that I asked him if anything weighed
upon his mind. Then he took me aside into a palm grove upon the bank,
and seating himself on the pole whereby oxen turned a waterwheel, told
me that strange things were passing at Tanis.
It seemed that the Hebrew prophets had once more appeared before
Pharaoh, who since his accession had left the Israelites in peace, not
attacking them with the sword as Meneptah had wished to do, it was
thought through fear lest if he did so he should die as Meneptah died.
As before, they had put up their prayer that the people of the Hebrews
should be suffered to go to worship in the wilderness, and Pharaoh had
refused them. Then when he went down to sail upon the river early in
the morning of another day, they had met him and one of them struck the
water with his rod, and it had turned to blood. Whereon Ki and Kherheb
and his company also struck the water with their rods, and it turned to
blood. That was six days ago, and now this officer swore to me that the
blood was creeping up the Nile, a tale at which I laughed.
“Come then and see,” he said, and led me back to his boat, where
all the crew seemed as fearful as he was himself.
He took me forward to a great water jar that stood upon the prow and,
behold! it seemed to be full of blood, and in it was a fish dead,
and—stinking.
“This water,” said he, “I drew from the Nile with my own
hands, not five hours sail to the north. But now we have outsped the
blood, which follows after us,” and taking a lamp he held it over the
prow of the boat and I saw that all its planks were splashed as though
with blood.
“Be advised by me, learned scribe,” he added, “and fill every
jar and skin that you can gather with sweet water, lest to-morrow you
and your company should go thirsty,” and he laughed a very dreary
laugh.
Then we parted without more words, for neither of us knew what to say,
and about midnight he sailed on with the wind, taking his chance of
grounding on the sandbanks in the darkness.
For my part I did as he bade me, though my rowers who had not spoken
with his men, thought that I was mad to load up the barge with so much
water.
At the first break of day I gave the order to start. Looking over the
side of the barge it seemed to me as though the lights of dawn had
fallen from the sky into the Nile whereof the water had become
pink-hued. Moreover, this hue, which grew ever deeper, was travelling
up stream, not down, against the course of nature, and could not
therefore have been caused by red soil washed from the southern lands.
The bargemen stared and muttered together. Then one of them, leaning
over the side, scooped up water in the hollow of his hand and drew some
into his mouth, only to spit it out again with a cry of fear.
“’Tis blood,” he cried. “Blood! Osiris has been slain
afresh, and his holy blood fills the banks of Nile.”
So much were they afraid, indeed, that had I not forced them to hold to
their course they would have turned and rowed up stream, or beached the
boat and fled into the desert. But I cried to them to steer on
northwards, for thus perhaps we should sooner be done with this horror,
and they obeyed me. Ever as we went the hue of the water grew more red,
almost to blackness, till at last it seemed as though we were
travelling through a sea of gore in which dead fish floated by the
thousand, or struggled dying on the surface. Also the stench was so
dreadful that we must bind linen about our nostrils to strain the foetid
air.
We came abreast of a town, and from its streets one great wail of terror
rose to heaven. Men stood staring as though they were drunken, looking
at their red arms which they had dipped in the stream, and women ran to
and fro upon the bank, tearing their hair and robes, and crying out
such words as—
“Wizard’s work! Bewitched! Accursed! The gods have slain each
other, and men too must die!” and so forth.
Also we saw peasants digging holes at a distance from the shore to see
perchance if they might come to water that was sweet and wholesome. All
day long we travelled thus through this horrible flood, while the spray
driven by the strong north wind spotted our flesh and garments, till we
were like butchers reeking from the shambles. Nor could we eat any food
because of the stench from this spray, which made it to taste salt as
does fresh blood, only we drank of the water which I had provided, and
the rowers who had held me to be mad now named me the wisest of men;
one who knew what would befall in the future.
At length towards evening we noted that the water was growing much less
red with every hour that passed, which was another marvel, seeing that
above us, upstream, it was the colour of jasper, whereon we paused from
our rowing and, all defiled as we were, sang a hymn and gave thanks to
Hapi, god of Nile, the Great, the Secret, the Hidden. Before sunset,
indeed, the river was clean again, save that on the bank where we made
fast for the night the stones and rushes were all stained, and the dead
fish lay in thousands polluting the air. To escape the stench we
climbed a cliff that here rose quite close to Nile, in which we saw the
mouths of ancient tombs that long ago had been robbed and left empty,
purposing to sleep in one of them.
A path worn by the feet of men ran to the largest of these tombs,
whence, as we drew near, we heard the sound of wailing. Looking in, I
saw a woman and some children crouched upon the floor of the tomb,
their heads covered with dust who, when they perceived us, cried more
loudly than before, though with harsh dry voices, thinking no doubt
that we were robbers or perhaps ghosts because of our bloodstained
garments. Also there was another child, a little one, that did not cry,
because it was dead. I asked the woman what passed, but even when she
understood that we were only men who meant her no harm, she could not
speak or do more than gasp “Water! Water!” We gave her and the
children to drink from the jars which we had brought with us, which
they did greedily, after which I drew her story from her.
She was the wife of a fisherman who made his home in this cave, and said
that seven days before the Nile had turned to blood, so that they could
not drink of it, and had no water save a little in a pot. Nor could
they dig to find it, since here the ground was all rock. Nor could they
escape, since when he saw the marvel, her husband in his fear had leapt
from his boat and waded to land and the boat had floated away.
I asked where was her husband, and she pointed behind her. I went to
look, and there found a man hanging by his neck from a rope that was
fixed to the capital of a pillar in the tomb, quite dead and cold.
Returning sick at heart, I inquired of her how this had come about. She
answered that when he saw that all the fish had perished, taking away
his living, and that thirst had killed his youngest child, he went mad,
and creeping to the back of the tomb, without her knowledge hung
himself with a net rope. It was a dreadful story.
Having given the widow of our food, we went to sleep in another tomb,
not liking the company of those dead ones. Next morning at the dawn we
took the woman and her children on board the barge, and rowed them
three hours’ journey to a town where she had a sister, whom she
found. The dead man and the child we left there in the tomb, since my
men would not defile themselves by touching them.
So, seeing much terror and misery on our journey, at last we came safe
to Memphis. Leaving the boatmen to draw up the barge, I went to the
palace, speaking with none, and was led at once to the Prince. I found
him in a shaded chamber seated side by side with the lady Merapi, and
holding her hand in such a fashion that they remind me of the
life-sized Ka statues of a man and his wife, such as I have seen in the
ancient tombs, cut when the sculptors knew how to fashion the perfect
likenesses of men and women. This they no longer do to-day, I think
because the priests have taught them that it is not lawful. He was
talking to her in a low voice, while she listened, smiling sweetly as
she ever did, but with eyes, fixed straight before her that were, as it
seemed to me, filled with fear. I thought that she looked very
beautiful with her hair outspread over her white robe, and held back
from her temples by a little fillet of god. But as I looked, I rejoiced
to find that my heart no longer yearned for her as it had upon that
night when I had seen her seated beneath the trees without the
pleasure-house. Now she was its friend, no more, and so she remained
until all was finished, as both the Prince and she knew well enough.
When he saw me Seti sprang from his seat and came to greet me, as a man
does the friend whom he loves. I kissed his hand, and going to Merapi,
kissed hers also noting that on it now shone that ring which once she
had rejected as too large.
“Tell me, Ana, all that has befallen you,” he said in his pleasant,
eager voice.
“Many things, Prince; one of them very strange and terrible,” I
answered.
“Strange and terrible things have happened here also,” broke in
Merapi, “and, alas! this is but the beginning of woes.”
So saying, she rose, as though she could trust herself to speak no more,
bowed first to her lord and then to me, and left the chamber.
I looked at the Prince and he answered the question in my eyes.
“Jabez has been here,” he said, “and filled her heart with
forebodings. If Pharaoh will not let the Israelites go, by Amon I wish
he would let Jabez go to some place whence he never could return. But
tell me, have you also met blood travelling against the stream of Nile?
It would seem so,” and he glanced at the rusty stains that no washing
would remove from my garments.
I nodded and we talked together long and earnestly, but in the end were
no wiser for all our talking. For neither of us knew how it came about
that men by striking water with a rod could turn it into what seemed to
be blood, as the Hebrew prophet and Ki both had done, or how that blood
could travel up the Nile against the stream and everywhere endure for a
space of seven days; yes, and spread too to all the canals in Egypt, so
that men must dig holes for water and dig them fresh each day because
the blood crept in and poisoned them. But both of us thought that this
was the work of the gods, and most of all of that god whom the Hebrews
worship.
“You remember, Ana,” said the Prince, “the message which you
brought to me from Jabez, namely that no harm should come to me because
of these Israelites and their curses. Well, no harm has come as yet,
except the harm of Jabez, for he came. On the day before the news of
this blood plague reached us, Jabez appeared disguised as a merchant of
Syrian stuffs, all of which he sold to me at three times their value.
He obtained admission to the chambers of Merapi, where she is
accustomed to see whom she wills, and under pretence of showing her his
stuffs, spoke with her and, as I fear, told her what you and I were so
careful to hide, that she would bring trouble on me. At the least she
has never been quite the same since, and I have thought it wise to make
her swear by an oath, which I know she will never break, that now we
are one she will not attempt to separate herself from me while we both
have life.”
“Did he wish her to go away with him, Prince?”
“I do not know. She never told me so. Still I am sure that had he come
with his evil talk before that day when you returned from Tanis, she
would have gone. Now I hope that there are reasons that will keep her
where she is.”
“What then did he say, Prince?”
“Little beyond what he had already said to you, that great troubles
were about to fall on Egypt. He added that he was sent to save me and
mine from these troubles because I had been a friend to the Hebrews in
so far as that was possible. Then he walked through this house and all
round its gardens, as he went reciting something that was written on a
roll, of which I could not understand the meaning, and now and again
prostrating himself to pray to his god. Thus, where the canal enters
the garden and where it leaves the garden he stayed to pray, as he did
at the well whence drinking water is drawn. Moreover, led by Merapi, he
visited all my cornlands and those where my cattle are herded, reciting
and praying until the servants thought that he was mad. After this he
returned with her and, as it chanced, I overheard their parting. She
said to him:
“‘The house you have blessed and it is safe; the fields you have
blessed and they are safe; will you not bless me also, O my Uncle, and
any that are born of me?’
“He answered, shaking his head, ‘I have no command, my Niece,
either to bless or to curse you, as did that fool whom the Prince slew.
You have chosen your own path apart from your people. It may be well,
or it may be ill, or perhaps both, and henceforth you must walk it
alone to wherever it may lead. Farewell, for perhaps we shall meet no
more.’
“Thus speaking they passed out of earshot, but I could see that still
she pleaded and still he shook his head. In the end, however, she gave
him an offering, of all that she had I think, though whether this went
to the temple of the Hebrews or into his own pouch I know not. At least
it seemed to soften him, for he kissed her on the brow tenderly enough
and departed with the air of a happy merchant who has sold his wares.
But of all that passed between them Merapi would tell me nothing. Nor
did I tell her of what I had overheard.”
“And then?”
“And then, Ana, came the story of the Hebrew prophet who made the
water into blood, and of Ki and his disciples who did likewise. The
latter I did not believe, because I said it would be more reasonable
had Ki turned the blood back into water, instead of making more blood
of which there was enough already.”
“I think that magicians have no reason.”
“Or can do mischief only, Ana. At any rate after the story came the
blood itself and stayed with us seven whole days, leaving much sickness
behind it because of the stench of the rotting fish. Now for the
marvel—here about my house there was no blood, though above and below
the canal was full of it. The water remained as it has always been and
the fish swam in it as they have always done; also that of the well
kept sweet and pure. When this came to be known thousands crowded to
the place, clamouring for water; that is until they found that outside
the gates it grew red in their vessels, after which, although some
still came, they drank the water where they stood, which they must do
quickly.”
“And what tale do they tell of this in Memphis, Prince?” I asked
astonished.
“Certain of them say that not Ki but I am the greatest magician in
Egypt—never, Ana, was fame more lightly earned. And certain say that
Merapi, of whose doings in the temple at Tanis some tale has reached
them, is the real magician, she being an Israelite of the tribe of the
Hebrew prophets. Hush! She returns.”