UP THE NILE.
Late at night Jethro again went up to the hiding-place on the hill.
Chigron had just returned from another visit to the city. He said:
“The whole of the town is in an uproar. The news that Ptylus and his
son have been found slain has been received, and the excitement is
tremendous. The death by violence of two high priests of Osiris
within so short a time is regarded as a presage of some terrible
national misfortune. That one should have been slain was an almost
unprecedented act--an insult of a terrible kind to the gods; but this
second act of sacrilege has almost maddened the people. Some regard it
as a judgment of Osiris, and deem that it is a proof that, as a few
ventured to whisper before, the death of Ameres was brought about by
an intrigue among a party of the priests, headed by Ptylus. Others see
in it a fresh proof of the anger of the god against Egypt.
“The king himself will, it is said, take part in services of
propitiation in the temple of Osiris to-morrow; sacrifices are to
be offered, they say, in all the temples. A solemn fast will be
proclaimed to-morrow, and all the people, high and low, are to shave
their eyebrows and to display the usual signs of mourning. So far I
have heard nothing as to the fact that two girls who were in the house
are discovered to be missing, but to-morrow, when those who were in
the house are questioned by the magistrates, this fact will doubtless
come out, and the men will own that by the orders of Ptylus they
carried Mysa away at the time the attack on the house was made.
“At present, however, there is no question of women in the case; and I
can go down to the boat with the girls in company with Chigron without
any fear whatever. But it is better that you should not be with us
when we embark; for when the matter comes to be talked over, some one
who sees us embark might notice that our number tallies with that of
the three persons present when Ptylus was killed, and the two missing
girls. Therefore Chigron’s opinion is that it will be safer for you to
start at once and walk to Mita, a village twenty miles up the river.
There the boat will lie up to-morrow night, and as soon as it is dark
you can come on board. I shall tell the boatmen that I expect you to
join us there, as you have gone on ahead to transact some business for
me in the neighborhood.”
“That is certainly the best plan,” Amuba agreed. “There are too many
who know Chebron by sight for it to be safe for him to go down to the
boat here and embark in broad daylight. I will take two hours’ sleep
before I start; for as I did not sleep last night, and have walked
forty miles since I left the chariot, I feel in need of a little
repose before I start again. I was foolish not to have slept this
afternoon, for I have since midday been hiding near; but there was so
much to think about that I had no inclination to do so, especially as
I believed that we would have a night’s rest here.”
“I will wake you,” Chebron said. “I have been asleep the better part
of the day, having had nothing to do since we arrived here yesterday
evening.”
Chebron sat watching the stars until he saw that they had made two
hours’ journey through the sky. Then he roused Amuba. Both now laid
aside their garments as peasants and put on the attire prepared for
them as the sons of a small trader. Amuba had submitted, although with
much disgust, to have his head shaved on the night following the death
of Ameres, and it was a satisfaction to him to put on a wig; for,
accustomed as he was to see the bare heads of the peasants, it was
strange and uncomfortable to him to be going about in the same
fashion.
As soon as they were dressed they started, made their way down to the
bank of the river above the town, and walked along the broad causeway
by the stream until within a mile or two of their destination. Then
they turned off toward a clump of trees which were visible by the
first gleam of dawn a quarter of a mile away. Here they slept for some
hours, and late in the afternoon returned to the side of the river and
strolled quietly along, watching the boats. Those in the middle of the
stream were making their way down with the current lightly and easily,
the crews often singing merrily, rejoicing over the approaching
meeting with their friends after an absence of many weeks. The boats
going up the stream were all close to the bank, the crews walking
along the causeway and laboring at the towropes, for there was not
enough wind to render the sails of any utility in breasting the
stream. The craft were of various kinds, some shapeless and rudely
fashioned, used in conveying corn from the country higher up down to
Thebes, and now returning empty. Others were the fancifully painted
boats of the wealthy, with comfortable cabins and sails of many colors
richly decorated and embroidered. These were carrying their owners up
or down the river, between their country mansions and the city.
It was half an hour after sunset when the two friends arrived at
Mita. Darkness falls quickly in Egypt after the sun has gone down, and
their features could scarcely have been recognized had they been met
by any one acquainted with them in the streets. The scene in the
streets of the little village was a busy one. Its distance from Thebes
rendered it a general halting-place for the night of the boats which
had left the capital early, and a great number of these were already
moored off the bank, while others were arriving in quick succession.
The boatmen and passengers were busy making their purchases at the
shops; fishermen, with well-filled baskets, were shouting the praises
of their fish; fowlers, with strings of ducks and geese hanging from
poles from their shoulders, were equally clamorous in offering them
for sale.
The shops of the fruiterers and bakers and those of the venders of the
vegetables that formed so large a portion of the diet of the Egyptians
were all crowded, and the wine shops were doing a brisk business.
Chebron and Amuba made their way through the busy scene, keeping a
sharp lookout for Jethro, for they considered it certain that owing to
the early start the boat was to make it would have arrived there some
hours before, and that he would be on the lookout for them. In a few
minutes they saw him looking into one of the shops. He started as they
went up to him and touched him, for he had not perceived them before.
“All well?” Amuba asked.
“Everything has gone off admirably. We got off without the slightest
trouble. But come on board at once; the girls are anxious about you,
although I assured them that there was not the slightest risk of your
being discovered on your way here.”
So saying, Jethro led the way to the boat, which was moored by the
bank a hundred yards above the village, “in order,” Jethro said, “that
they could make an early start in the morning, and be off before the
rest of the boats were under way.”
“Here are your brothers,” Jethro said in a loud voice as he stepped on
board. “I found them dawdling and gossiping in the street, forgetting
altogether that you were waiting for your evening meal until they came
on board.”
Both entered the cabin, which was about eight feet wide and twelve
feet long, but not high enough for them to stand upright. The floor
was spread with a thick carpet; cushions and pillows were arranged
along each side, and thick matting hung from the top. In the daytime
this was rolled up and fastened, so that the air could play through
the cabin and those within could look out at the river; but at present
it closed the openings and kept out both the night air and the glances
of passers-by. At the other end was a door opening into the smaller
cabin allotted to the girls. A lamp swung from the beams overhead.
Mysa gave a cry of pleasure as they entered and was about to spring to
her feet, when Jethro exclaimed:
“Mind your head, child! You are not accustomed to these low quarters
yet.”
“Thank the gods we are together again!” Mysa said as Chebron, after
embracing her, sat down on the cushion beside her. “I feel almost
happy now, in spite of the dreadful times that have passed.”
“It does feel homelike here,” Chebron said, looking round, “especially
after sleeping in the open air on the hard ground, as we have been
doing for the last month.”
“I should hardly have known you, Amuba,” Mysa said. “You do look so
different in your wig, and with your skin darkened.”
“I must look horrible,” Amuba replied rather ruefully.
“You don’t look so nice,” Mysa replied frankly. “I used at first to
think that short, wavy golden hair of yours was strange, and that you
would look better in a wig like other people; but now I am sorry it is
gone.”
“Here is our meal,” Jethro said as the hangings that served as a door
were drawn aside, and one of the men entered bearing a dish of fried
fish and another of stewed ducks, which he placed on the floor.
Jethro produced some cups and a jar of wine from a locker in the
cabin, and then the men, by his orders, brought in a jar of water for
the use of the girls. Then sitting round the dishes they began their
meal, Jethro cutting up the food with his dagger, and all helping
themselves with the aid of their fingers and pieces of bread, that
served them for the purpose of forks. Mysa had been accustomed always
to the use of a table; but these were only used in the abodes of the
rich, and the people in general sat on the ground to their meals.
“We have not begun our hardships yet,” Mysa said, smiling. “I should
not mind how long this went on. I call this much better than living in
a house; don’t you, Ruth?”
“It is more natural to me than that great house of yours,” Ruth
replied; “and of course to me it is far more homelike and comfortable.
For I do not think I was a favorite among the other servants; they
were jealous of the kindness you showed me.”
“There is one thing I wanted to say,” Jethro said. “It is better that
we should not call each other by our names, I am sure that the boatmen
have no suspicion here that we are other than what we seem to be; but
they can hardly help hearing our names, for all Egypt has rung with
them for the last month, and it would be well if we change them for
the present. You must of necessity call me father, since that is the
relation I am supposed to bear to you. Amuba can become Amnis and
Chebron Chefu.”
“And I will be Mytis,” Mysa said. “What name will you take, Ruth?
There is no Egyptian name quite like yours.”
“It matters not what you call me,” Ruth said.
“We will call you Nite,” Mysa said. “I had a great friend of that
name, but she died.”
“And there is one thing, Nite,” Chebron said, “that I wish you to
understand. Just now you spoke to me as my lord Chebron. That sort of
thing must not be any longer. We are all fugitives together, and Mysa
and I have no longer any rank. Jethro and Amuba are of high rank in
their own country, and if we ever get safely to their own people they
will be nobles in the land, while we shall be but strangers, as he was
when he and Jethro came into Egypt. Therefore any talk of rank among
us is but folly. We are fugitives, and my life is forfeited if I am
discovered in my own land. Jethro is our leader and guardian, alike by
the will of our father and because he is older and wiser than any of
us. Amuba is as my elder brother, being stronger and braver and more
accustomed to danger than I; while you and Mysa are sisters, inasmuch
as you are both exiled from your own land, and are friendless, save
for each other and us.”
“I am glad to hear you say that, brother,” Mysa said. “I spoke to her
last night about it, for she would insist on treating me as if she
were still my servant; which is absurd, and not nice of her, when she
is going out with us to share our dangers only because she loves me.
It is I rather who should look up to her, for I am very helpless, and
know nothing of work or real life, while she can do all sorts of
things; besides, when we were captives it was she who was always brave
and hopeful, and kept up my spirits when, I do think, if it had not
been for her I should have died of grief and terror.”
“By the way,” Jethro said, “we have not heard yet how it was that you
were together. We heard of your being carried off, but old Lyptis told
me that no one had seen aught of you.”
“They were all scared out of their senses,” Ruth said scornfully. “The
men suddenly ran into the room and seized Mysa, and twisted a shawl
round her head before she had time to call out. I screamed, and one of
them struck me a blow which knocked me down. Then they carried her
off. I think I was stunned for a moment. When I recovered I found they
were gone. I jumped up and ran along the passage and through the hall,
where the women were screaming and crying, and then out of the house
through the garden, and out of the gate. Then I saw four men at a
short distance off carrying Mysa to a cart standing a hundred yards
away. I ran up just as they laid her in it. One of them turned upon me
with a dagger. I said:
“‘Let me go with her, and I will be quiet. If not, I will scream; and
if you kill me, it will only set the people on your traces.’
“The men hesitated, and I ran past them and climbed into the cart, and
threw myself down by Mysa, and then they drove off.”
“It was brave and good of you, Ruth,” Jethro said, laying his hand on
the girl’s shoulder; “but why did you not scream when you first came
out of the gate? It might have brought aid and prevented Mysa from
being carried off.”
“I thought of that,” Ruth said, “but there were numbers of rough men
still coming in at the gate; and knowing how the people had been
stirred up to anger against us, I did not know what might happen if I
gave the alarm. Besides, I was not sure at first that these men,
although they seemed so rough and violent, were not really friends,
who were taking away Mysa to save her from the popular fury.”
“Yes, that might have been the case,” Jethro agreed. “At any rate,
child, you acted bravely and well. We were hoping all along that you
were with Mysa, for we knew what a comfort you would be to her. Only,
as the women all declared you did not pass out after her, we did
not see how that could be. And now, Mytis and Nite, you had better
retire to your own cabin to rest; for though you have both kept up
wonderfully, all this has been a great strain for you, and you are
both looking fagged and heavy-eyed. To-night you can sleep in comfort;
for, for the present, I think that there is no occasion whatever for
the slightest anxiety.”
It was some time before Jethro and his companions lay down to sleep.
They talked long and earnestly of the journey that lay before them;
and when they had exhausted this topic, Chebron said:
“Till now, Jethro, I have not asked you about my father’s funeral.
When is it to be? I have thought of it often, but as you did not speak
I thought it better not to question you.”
“I was glad you did not,” Jethro replied. “It will be in about ten
days’ time. As I believed you guessed, Chigron is embalming him; the
process will not be completed for another four days, and, as you know,
the relatives do not see the corpse after it is in the hands of the
embalmer until it is swathed and in the coffin. Chigron has done so
much that must have been against his conscience that I did not like
him to be asked to allow you to break through that custom, which to
him is a sort of religion; beside, dear lad, I thought it better for
yourself not to renew your griefs by gazing on a lifeless face.
“During the last month you have fortunately had so much to distract
your thoughts that you have not had time to dwell upon your loss.
Moreover, you have needed all your strength and your energy for your
search for your sister, and right sure am I that your father, who was
as sensible as he was wise--and the two things do not always go
together--would be far better pleased to see you energetic and active
in your search for your sister and in preparation for this new life on
which we are entering, than in vain regrets for him; therefore, lad,
for every reason I thought it better to keep silent upon the subject.
It may be a satisfaction, however, for you to know that everything
will be done to do honor to the dead.
“The king and all the great men of Egypt will be present, and Thebes
will turn out its thousands to express its grief for the deed done by
a section of its population. Had it not been for the express commands
of your father I should have thought that it might have been worth
while for you to present yourself on that occasion and it may be that
for once even the fanatics would have been satisfied to have pardoned
the offense of the son because of the wrong done to the father.
However, this affair of Ptylus puts that out of the question, for when
it is generally known that Mysa was carried off when Ptylus was slain,
public opinion will arrive at the truth and say that the fugitives of
whom they were in search, the slayers of the sacred cat, were the
rescuers of the daughter of Ameres and the slayers of the high
priest.”
“You are right, Jethro, it will be better for me not to have seen my
father; I can always think of him now as I saw him last, which is a
thousand times better than if he dwelt in my memory as he lies in the
cere-clothes in the embalming room of Chigron. As to what you say
about my appearing at the funeral, I would in no case have done it; I
would a thousand times rather live an exile or meet my death at the
hands of savages than crave mercy at the hands of the mob of Thebes,
and live to be pointed at all my life as the man who had committed the
abhorred offense of killing the sacred cat.”
The conversation in the cabin had all been carried on in an undertone;
for although through an opening in the curtains they could see the
crew--who had been eating their meal by the light of a torch of
resinous wood, and were now wrapped up in thick garments to keep off
the night dew--chatting merrily together and occasionally breaking
into snatches of song, it was prudent to speak so that not even a
chance word should be overheard. The boatmen, indeed, were in high
spirits. Their home lay far up near the borders of Upper Egypt, and it
was seldom indeed that they obtained a job which gave them the chance
of visiting their friends. Thus the engagement was most satisfactory
to them, for although their leader had haggled over the terms, he and
they would gladly have accepted half the rate of pay rather than let
such an opportunity slip. As Chebron finished speaking they were
preparing for the night by laying down a few mats on the boards of the
fore deck. Then they huddled closely together, pulled another mat or
two over them, extinguished the torch, and composed themselves to
sleep.
“We will follow their example; but a little more comfortably, I hope,”
Jethro said.
The cushions and pillows were arranged, the lamp turned low, and in a
short time all on board the boat were sound asleep. No ray of light
had entered the cabin when Amuba was awakened by a movement of the
boat, caused by a stir among the crew. He felt his way to the door and
threw back the hangings and looked out; there was a faint
greenish-yellow light in the east, but the stars were still shining
brightly.
“Good-morning, young master!” the captain said. “I hope you have slept
well.”
“So well that I could hardly believe it was morning,” Amuba replied.
“How long will it be before you are off?”
“We shall be moving in ten minutes; at present there is not light
enough to see the shore.”
“Chefu, are you awake?”
“Yes,” Chebron answered sleepily, “I am awake; thanks to your talking.
If you had lain quiet we might have slept for another hour yet.”
“You have had plenty of sleep the last twenty-four hours,” Amuba
retorted. “Take a cloth and let us land and run along the banks for a
mile, and have a bath before the boat comes along.”
“It is very cold for it,” Chebron said.
“Nonsense! the water will refresh you.”
“Come along, Chefu,” Jethro said, “your brother is right; a dip will
refresh us for the day.”
The Egyptians were most particular about bathing and washing. The heat
and dust of the climate rendered cleanliness an absolute necessity,
and all classes took their daily bath--the wealthy in baths attached
to their houses, the poor in the water of the lakes or canals. Jethro
and the two lads leaped ashore and ran briskly along the bank for
about a mile, stripped and took a plunge into the river, and were
dressed again just as the boat came along with the four men towing
her, and the captain steering with an oar at the stern. It was light
enough now for him to distinguish the faces of his passengers, and he
brought the boat straight alongside the bank. In a few minutes the
girls came out from their cabin, looking fresh and rosy.
“So you have been bathing?” Mysa said. “We heard what you were saying,
and we have had our bath too.”
“How did you manage that?” Chebron asked.
“We went out by the door at the other side of our cabin in our woollen
robes, on to that little platform on which the man is standing to
steer, and poured jars of water over each other.”
“And you both slept well?”
“Yes, indeed, and without waking once till we heard Amnis call you to
get up.”
“You disturbed everyone, you see, Amnis,” Chebron said.
“And a very good thing too,” Amuba laughed. “If we had not had our
bath when we did, we should not have got an opportunity all day. Now
we all feel fresh.”
“And ready for something to eat,” Mysa put in.
“What would you like, Mytis?” Ruth asked. “I am a capital cook, you
know, and I don’t suppose the men will be preparing their breakfast
for a long time yet.”
“I think that will be a very good plan, Mytis,” Jethro said; “but we
will divide the labor between us. The two boys shall stir up the
brands smoldering on the flat stone hearth forward, I will clean and
get ready some fish, Nite shall cook them, while Mytis shall, under
her directions, make us some cakes and put them into the hot ashes to
bake. We shall have to shift for ourselves later on. There is nothing
like getting accustomed to it. Of course the men will cook the
principal meals, but we can prepare little meals between times. It is
astonishing how many times you can eat during the day when you are in
the open air.”
In half an hour the meal, consisting of the fish, light dough-cakes,
which Mysa had with much amusement prepared under Ruth’s directions,
and fruit, was ready. The latter consisted of grapes and melons. The
meal was greatly enjoyed, and by the time it was finished the sun was
already some distance up the sky. For an hour the party sat on the
deck forward watching the boats coming down the stream and the
villages on the opposite shore; but as the sun gained power they were
glad to enter into the cabin. The mats were rolled up now to allow a
free passage of air, and as they sat on the cushions they could look
out on both sides.
Day after day passed quietly and smoothly. The men generally towed the
boat from sunrise until eleven o’clock in the day; then they moored
her to the bank, prepared a meal, and after eating it went ashore if
there were trees that afforded a shade there, or if not, spread out
some mats on poles over the boat and slept in their shade till three
o’clock. Then they towed until sunset, moored her for the night,
cooked their second meal, talked and sang for an hour or two, and then
lay down for the night. Sometimes the wind blew with sufficient
strength to enable the boat to stem the stream close inshore by means
of the sail alone; then the boatmen were perfectly happy and spent
their day in alternate eating and sleeping. Generally the passengers
landed and walked alongside of the boat for an hour or two after they
had had their early breakfast, and again when the heat of the day was
over; it made a change, and at the same time kept their muscles in a
state of health and activity.
“We may have to make long journeys on foot,” Jethro said, “and the
more we can accustom ourselves to walking the better.”
The time passed so quietly and pleasantly that both Mysa and Chebron
at times blamed themselves for feeling as light hearted as they did;
but when the latter once said so to Jethro he replied:
“Do not be uneasy on that score. Remember that in the first place it
is a comfort to us all that you and your sister are cheerful
companions. It makes the journey lighter for us. In the next place,
good spirits and good health go together; and although, at present,
our life is an easy one, there will be need for health and strength
presently. This flight and exile are at present blessings rather than
misfortunes to you. Just as Amuba’s captivity following so closely
upon the death of his father and mother was to him.”
“I can hardly believe,” Mysa said, “that we are really going upon a
dangerous expedition. Everything is so pleasant and tranquil. The days
pass without any care or trouble. I find it difficult to believe that
the time is not very far off when we shall have to cross deserts, and
perhaps to meet savage beasts and wild people, and be in danger of our
lives.”
“It will be a long time first, Mytis. It will be months before we
arrive at Meroe, the capital of the next kingdom, which lies at the
junction of the two great arms of this river. Up to that point I do
not think there will be dangers, though there may be some little
difficulty, for they say there are tremendous rapids to be passed.
It is only lately that the king overran Meroe, defeated its armies,
and forced it to pay tribute, but as there is a considerable trade
carried on with that country I do not think there is any danger of
molestation. It is on leaving Meroe that our difficulties will
commence; for, as I hear, the road thence to the east through the
city of Axoum, which is the capital of the country named Abyssinia,
passes through a wild land abounding with savage animals; and again,
beyond Axoum the country is broken and difficult down to the sea.
“Chigron told me, however, that he had heard from a native of Meroe
who had worked for him that there is a far shorter road to the sea
from a point at which the river takes a great bend many hundreds of
miles below the capital. When we get higher up we can of course make
inquiries as to this. I hope that it may prove to be true, for if so
it will save us months of travel.”
Several large towns were passed as they journeyed upward. Hermonthis,
standing on the western bank, by which they were traveling, was the
first passed. Then came Esneh, with grand temples dedicated to Kneph
and Neith, and standing where the Nile Valley opens to a width of five
miles. Then they passed Eilithya, standing on the eastern bank, with
many temples rising above it, and with the sandstone rock behind it
dotted with the entrances to sepulchers.
A few miles higher up they passed Edfu. Above this the valley
gradually narrowed, the hills closing in until they rose almost
perpendicularly from the edge of the stream. Here were temples
erected especially for the worship of the Nile and of his emblem the
crocodile. It appeared to the Egyptians the most appropriate place for
the worship of the river, which seemed here to occupy the whole width
of Egypt. Here, too, were vast quarries, from which the stone was
extracted for the building of most of the temples of Upper Egypt.
Sixteen miles higher Ombi was passed, with its great temple in honor
of the crocodile-headed god Sebak. Along this part of the river the
country was comparatively barren and the villages small and far
apart. In the narrow places the river at times ran so rapidly that it
was necessary to hire a number of peasants to assist the boatmen to
drag the boat against the stream, and the progress made each day was
very slight.
Four days after leaving Ombi they arrived at Syene,[A] by far the
largest town they had come to since leaving Thebes. This brought the
first stage of their journey to an end. Hitherto they had been
traveling along a tranquil river, running strongly at times, but
smooth and even. Before them they had a succession of cataracts and
rapids to pass, and a country to traverse which, although often
subjugated, was continually rising against the power of Egypt.
[A] The modern Assouan.
At Syene they remained for three days. They would gladly have pushed
on without delay, for although the Egyptian authority extended further
up the river, Syene was the last town where the governor would concern
himself with the affairs of Egypt, or where fugitives from justice
were likely to be arrested. However, as it was customary to give
boatmen a few days of repose after their labor, and before undertaking
the still more severe work which lay before them, Jethro thought it
better to avoid any appearance of haste.
There was much to be seen that was new to them at Syene. A great trade
was carried on with Meroe. Most of the merchants engaged in it dwelt
here, buying on the one hand the products of Upper and Lower Egypt and
sending or taking them up the river, and on the other hand buying the
products of Meroe and dispatching them to Thebes. The streets were
filled with a mingled population. Egyptians with their spotless
garments and tranquil mien; merchants absorbed in business; officers
and soldiers in large numbers, for Syene was an important military
station; officials belonging to the great quarries near, and gangs of
slaves of many nationalities working under their orders.
Wild-looking figures moved among the crowd, their garments, thrown
loosely round them, affording a striking contrast to the cleanness of
those of the Egyptians, while their unkempt hair was in equally strong
contrast to the precise wigs of the middle-class Egyptians and the
bare heads of the lower class. Their skins, too, were much darker in
color, though there was considerable variation in this respect. Among
them were a sprinkling of men of entirely different type, almost black
in hue, with thicker lips and flatter features. These were Ethiopians,
whose land lay beyond that of Meroe and who had also felt the weight
and power of the arms of Egypt.
“These people of Meroe,” Amuba said, “are very similar in features to
the Egyptians, Chebron. And their tongue is also not unlike yours; I
can understand their speech.”
“Our oldest books,” Amuba said, “say that we are kindred people, and
are Asiatic rather than African in our origin. The people of Meroe say
that their far-back ancestors came from Arabia, and first spreading
along the western shore of the Red Sea, ascended to the high lands and
drove out the black people who inhabited them.
“As to our own origin, it is vague; but my father has told me that the
opinion among those most skilled in the ancient learning is that we
too came from Arabia. We were not all one people, that is certain; and
it is comparatively of recent years, though a vast time as far as
human lives go, that the people of the Thebaid--that is, of Upper
Egypt--extended their dominion over Lower Egypt and made the whole
country one nation. Even now, you know, the king wears two crowns--the
one of Upper Egypt, the other of the lower country. Along the shores
of the Great Sea to the west are Libyans and other peoples similar in
race to ourselves. My father considered that the tribes which first
came from Asia pressed on to the west, driving back or exterminating
the black people. Each fresh wave that came from the east pushed the
others further and further, until at last the ancestors of the people
of Lower Egypt arrived and settled there.
“In Meroe the temples and religion are similar to our own. Whether
they brought that religion from Arabia, or whether we planted it there
during our various conquests of the country, I cannot tell you; but
certain it is that there is at present but little more difference
between Upper Egypt and Meroe than there is between Upper Egypt and
the Delta.”
“And beyond Meroe the people are all black like those we see here?”
“So I believe, Amuba. Our merchants penetrate vast distances to the
south exchanging our products for gold and ivory, and everywhere they
find the country inhabited by black people living in wretched
villages, without, as it seems, any government, or law, or order,
waging war with each other and making slaves, whom they also sell to
our merchants. They differ so wholly from us that it is certain that
we cannot come from the same stock. But they are strong and active and
make excellent slaves. Lying between Meroe and the sea, the country
called Abyssinia is also inhabited by a race of Arab blood, but
differing more from us than those of Meroe.
“They have great towns, but I do not think that their religion is the
same as ours; our traders say that their language can be understood by
them, although more rough and unpolished. I have heard my father say
that he considered that all the country lying east of the Nile, and of
its eastern branch that rises in Abyssinia and is called the Tacazze,
belongs to Asia rather than to Africa.”
The party found that the death by violence of two successive high
priests of Osiris was one of the principal topics of conversation
in Syene, but none appeared to think that there was the remotest
probability of any concerned in those occurrences making for the
south. However, Jethro thought it prudent that the whole party should
not land together, and therefore Amuba and Chebron usually went one
way and he with the girls another. They paid visits to the sacred
island of Ebo opposite the town, and to the quarries of Phile, four
miles away. Here they saw the gangs of slaves cutting colossal
statues, obelisks, and shrines from the solid rock.
First the outline was traced on the rock, then the surrounding stone
was removed with chisels and wedges, and at last the statue or obelisk
was itself severed from the rock. Then it was hewn and sculptured by
the masons, placed on rollers and dragged by hundreds of men down to
the landing-place below the rapids, and these placed on rafts to be
floated down the river to its destination. They saw many of these
masses of stone in all stages of manufacture. The number of slaves
employed was enormous, and these inhabited great buildings erected
near the quarries, where also were barracks for the troops who kept
guard over them.
Watching the slaves at their painful labor, Jethro and Amuba were both
filled with gratitude at the good fortune that had placed them with
Ameres instead of sending them to pass their lives in such unceasing
and monotonous toil. Among the slaves were several whom, by their
complexion and appearance, they judged to be Rebu. As at first all
those brought to Egypt had been distributed among the priests and
great officers, they supposed that either from obstinacy, misconduct,
or from attempts to escape they had incurred the displeasure of their
masters, and had been handed over by them for the service of the
state.
Had the slaves been in the hands of private masters, Jethro and Amuba,
who were filled with pity at seeing their countrymen in such a state,
would have endeavored to purchase them and take them with them upon
their journey. This was out of the question now, nor was it possible
to hold any communication with them, or to present them with a small
sum of money to alleviate their misery without exciting suspicion. The
whole party were heartily glad when on the morning of the fourth day
after their arrival the boat was pushed off from the shore and the
work of ascending the rapids began.