THE western boundary of Egypt for a distance of more than a hundred
geographic miles is composed of a wall of naked limestone hills about
two hundred meters high, intersected by ravines. They run parallel to
the Nile, from which they are sometimes five miles distant, sometimes
one kilometer. Whoso should clamber up one of these hills and turn his
face northward would see one of the strangest sights possible. He would
have on his right hand the narrow but green plain cut lengthwise by the
Nile; on his left he would see an endless yellow open region, varied by
spots, white or brick colored.
Monotony, the irritating yellow color of the sand plain, the heat, and,
above all, boundless immensity are the most peculiar traits of the
Libyan desert, which extends westward from Egypt.
But viewed more nearly the desert is in fact less monotonous. Its sand
is not level, but forms a series of swellings which recall immense
waves of water. It is like a roused sea solidified on a sudden. But
whoso should have the courage to go across that sea for an hour, two
hours, a day, directly westward would see a new sight. On the horizon
would appear eminences, sometimes cliffs and rocks of the strangest
outlines. Under foot the sand would grow thinner, and from beneath it
limestone rocks would emerge just like land out of water.
In fact that was a land, or even a country in the midst of a sand
ocean. Around the limestone hills were valleys, in them the beds of
streams and rivers, farther on a plain, and in the middle of it a lake
with a bending line of shores and a sunken bottom.
But on these plains, hills, and heights no blade of grass grows; in the
lake there is no drop of water; along the bed of the river no current
moves. That is a landscape, even greatly varied with respect to forms,
but a landscape from which all water has departed, the very last atom
of moisture has dried from it; a dead landscape, where not only all
vegetation has vanished, but even the fertile stratum of earth has been
ground into dust or dried up into rock slabs.
In those places the most ghastly event has taken place of which it is
possible to meditate: Nature has died there, and nothing remains but
her dust and her skeleton, which heat dissolves to the last degree, and
burning wind tosses from spot to spot.
Beyond this dead, unburied region stretches again a sea of sand, on
which are seen, here and there, towering up in one and another place,
pointed stacks as high as a house of one story. Each summit of such a
little hill is crowned by a small bunch of gray, fine, dusty leaves, of
which it is difficult to say that they are living; but it may be said
that they cannot wither.
One of these strange stacks signifies that water in that place has not
dried up altogether, but has hidden from drought beneath the earth, and
preserves dampness in some way. On that spot a tamarind seed fell, and
the plant has begun to grow with endless effort.
But Typhon, the lord of the desert, has noted this, and begun to stifle
it with sand. And the more the little plant pushes upward, the higher
rises the stack of sand which is choking it. That tamarind which has
wandered into the desert looks like a drowning man raising his arms, in
vain, heavenward.
And again the yellow boundless ocean stretches on with its sand waves
and those fragments of the plant world which have not the power to
perish. All at once a rocky wall is in front, and in it clefts, which
serve as gateways.
The incredible is before us. Beyond one of these gateways a broad green
plain appears, a multitude of palms, the blue waters of a lake. Even
sheep are seen pasturing, with cattle and horses. From afar, on the
sides of a cliff, towers up a town; on the summit of the cliff are the
white walls of a temple.
That is an oasis, or island in the sand ocean.
In the time of the pharaohs there were many such oases, perhaps some
tens of them. They formed a chain of islands in the desert, along the
western boundary of Egypt. They lay at a distance of ten, fifteen, or
twenty geographic miles from the Nile, and varied in size from a few to
a few tens of square kilometers in area.
Celebrated by Arab poets, these oases were never really the forecourts
of paradise. Their lakes are swamps for the greater part; from their
underground sources flow waters which are warm, sometimes of evil odor,
and disgustingly brackish; their vegetation could not compare with the
Egyptian. Still, these lonely places seemed a miracle to wanderers in
the desert, who found in them a little green for the eye, a trifle of
coolness, dampness, and some dates also.
The population of these islands in the sand ocean varied from a few
hundred persons to numbers between ten and twenty thousand, according
to area. These people were all adventurers or their descendants,
Europeans, Libyans, Ethiopians. To the desert fled people who had
nothing to lose, convicts from the quarries, criminals pursued by
police, earth-tillers escaping from tribute, or laborers who left hard
work for danger. The greater part of these fugitives died on the sand
ocean. Some of them, after sufferings beyond description, were able to
reach the oases, where they passed a wretched life, but a free one, and
they were ready at all times to fall upon Egypt for the sake of an
outlaw's recompense.
Between the desert and the Mediterranean extended a very long, though
not very wide strip of fruitful soil, inhabited by tribes which the
Egyptians called Libyans. Some of these worked at land tilling, others
at navigation and fishing; in each tribe, however, was a crowd of wild
people, who preferred plunder, theft, and warfare to regular labor.
That bandit population was perishing always between poverty and warlike
adventure; but it was also recruited by an influx of Sicilians and
Sardinians, who at that time were greater robbers and barbarians than
were the native Libyans.
Since Libya touched the western boundary of Lower Egypt, barbarians
made frequent inroads on the territory of his holiness, and were
terribly punished. Convinced at last that war with Libyans was result-
less, the pharaohs, or, more accurately, the priesthood, decided on
another system: real Libyan families were permitted to settle in the
swamps of Lower Egypt, near the seacoast, while adventurers and bandits
were enlisted in the army, and became splendid warriors.
In this way the state secured peace on the western boundary. To keep
single Libyan robbers in order police were sufficient, with a field
guard and a few regiments of regulars disposed along the Canopus arm of
the great river.
Such a condition of affairs lasted almost two centuries; the last war
with the Libyans was carried on by Ramses III, who cut enormous piles
of hands from his slain enemies, and brought thirteen thousand slaves
home to Egypt. From that time forth no one feared attack on the Libyan
boundary, and only toward the end of the reign of Ramses XII did the
strange policy of the priests kindle the flame of war again in those
regions.
It burst out through the following causes:
His worthiness, Herhor, the minister of war, and high priest of Amon,
because of resistance from his holiness the pharaoh, was unable to
conclude with Assyria a treaty for the division of Asia. But wishing,
as Beroes had forewarned him, to keep a more continued peace with
Assyria, Herhor assured Sargon that Egypt would not hinder them from
carrying on a war with eastern and northern Asiatics.
And since Sargon, the ambassador of King Assar, seemed not to trust
their oaths, Herhor decided to give him a material proof of friendly
feeling, and, with this object, ordered to disband at once twenty
thousand mercenaries, mainly Libyans.
For those disbanded warriors, who were in no way guilty and had been
always loyal, this decision almost equaled a death sentence. Before
Egypt appeared the danger of a war with Libya, which could in no case
give refuge to men in such numbers, men accustomed only to comforts and
military exercise, not to poverty and labor. But in view of great
questions of state, Herhor and the priests did not hesitate at trifles.
Indeed, the disbanding of the Libyans brought them much advantage.
First of all, Sargon and his associates signed and swore to a treaty of
ten years with the pharaoh, during which time, according to predictions
of priests in Chaldea, evil fates were impending over Egypt.
Second, the disbanding of twenty thousand men spared four thousand
talents to the treasury; this was greatly important.
Third, a war with Libya on the western boundary was an outlet for the
heroic instincts of the viceroy, and might turn his attention from
Asiatic questions and the eastern boundary for a long time. His
worthiness Herhor and the supreme council had calculated very keenly
that some years would pass before the Libyans, trained in petty
warfare, would ask for peace with Egypt.
The plan was well constructed, but the authors of it failed in one
point; they had not found Ramses a military genius.
The disbanded Libyan regiments robbed along the way, and reached their
birthplace very quickly, all the more quickly since Herhor had given no
command to place obstacles before them. The very first of the disbanded
men, when they stood on Libyan soil, told wonders to their relatives.
According to their stories, dictated by anger and personal interest,
Egypt was then as weak as when the Hyksos invaded it nine hundred years
earlier. The pharaoh's treasury was so poor that he, the equal of the
gods, had to disband them, the Libyans, who were the chief, if not the
only honor of the army. Moreover, there was hardly any army unless a
mere band on the eastern boundary, and that was formed of warriors of a
common order.
Besides, there was dissension between the priesthood and his holiness.
The laborers had not received their wages, and the earth tillers were
simply killed through taxes, therefore masses of men were ready to
rebel if they could only find assistance. And that was not the whole
case, for the nomarchs, who ruled once independently, and who from time
to time demanded their rights again, seeing now the weakness of the
government, were preparing to overturn both the pharaoh and the supreme
priestly council.
These tidings flew, like a flock of birds, along the Libyan boundary,
and found credit quickly. Those barbarians and bandits ever ready to
attack, were all the more ready then, when ex-warriors and officers of
his holiness assured them that to plunder Egypt was easy.
Rich and thoughtful Libyans believed the disbanded men also; for during
many years it had been to them no secret that Egyptian nobles were
losing wealth yearly, that the pharaoh had no power, and that earth-
tillers and laborers rebelled because they suffered.
And so excitement burst out through all Libya. People greeted the
disbanded warriors and officers as heralds of good tidings. And since
the country was poor, and had no supplies to nourish visitors, a war
with Egypt was decided on straightway, so as to send off the new
arrivals at the earliest.
Even the wise and crafty Libyan prince, Musawasa, let himself be swept
away by the general current. It was not, however, the disbanded
warriors who had convinced him, but certain grave and weighty persons
who, in every likelihood, were agents of the chief Egyptian council.
These dignitaries, as if dissatisfied with things in Egypt, or offended
at the pharaoh and the priesthood, had come to Libya from the seashore;
they took no part in conversations, they avoided meetings with
disbanded warriors, and explained to Musawasa, as the greatest secret,
and with proofs in hand, that that was just his time to fall on Egypt.
"Thou wilt find there endless wealth," said they, "and granaries for
thyself, thy people, and the grandsons of thy grandsons."
Musawasa, though a skilful diplomat and leader, let himself be caught
in that way. Like a man of energy, he declared a sacred war at once,
and, as he had valiant warriors in thousands, he hurried off the first
corps eastward. His son, Tehenna, who was twenty years of age at that
time, led it.
The old barbarian knew what war was, and understood that he who plans
to conquer must act with speed and give the first blows in the
struggle.
Libyan preparations were very brief. The former warriors of his
holiness had no weapons, it is true, but they knew their trade, and it
was not difficult in those days to find weapons for an army. A few
straps, or pieces of rope for a sling, a dart or a sharpened stick, an
axe, or a heavy club, a bag of stones, and another of dates, that was
the whole problem.
So Musawasa gave two thousand men, ex-warriors of the pharaoh, and four
thousand of the Libyan rabble to Tehenna, commanding him to fall on
Egypt at the earliest, seize whatever he could find, and collect
provisions for the real army. Assembling for himself the most important
forces, he sent swift runners through the oases and summoned to his
standard all who had no property.
There had not been such a movement in the desert for a long time. From
each oasis came crowd after crowd, such a proletariat, that, though
almost naked, they deserved to be called a tattered rabble. Relying on
the opinion of his counselors, who a month earlier had been officers of
his holiness, Musawasa supposed, with perfect judgment, that his son
would plunder hundreds of villages and small places from Teremethis to
Senti-Nofer, before he would meet important Egyptian forces. Finally
they reported to him, that at the first news of a movement among the
Libyans, not only had all laborers fled from the glass works, but that
even the troops had withdrawn from fortresses in Sochet-Heman on the
Soda Lakes.
This was of very good import to the barbarians, since those glass works
were an important source of income to the pharaoh's treasury.
Musawasa had made the same mistake as the supreme priestly council. He
had not foreseen military genius in Ramses. And an uncommon thing
happened: before the first Libyan corps had reached the neighborhood of
the Soda Lakes the viceroy's army was there, and was twice as numerous
as its enemies.
No man could reproach the Libyans with lack of foresight. Tehenna and
his staff had a very well-organized service. Their spies had made
frequent visits to Melcatis, Naucratis, Sai, Menuf, and Teremethis, and
had sailed across the Canopus and Bolbita arms of the Nile. Nowhere did
they meet troops; the movements of troops would have been paralyzed in
those places by the overflow, but they did see almost everywhere the
alarm of settled populations which were simply fleeing from border
villages. So they brought their leader exact intelligence.
Meanwhile the viceroy's army, in spite of the overflow, had reached the
edge of the desert in nine days after it was mobilized, and now,
furnished with water and provisions, it vanished among the hills of the
Soda Lakes.
If Tehenna could have risen like an eagle above the camp of his
warriors, he would have been frightened at seeing that Egyptian
regiments were hidden in all the ravines of that district, and that his
corps might be surrounded at any instant.