A Desert Drama | Page 4

her constant flow of high spirits, amused and interested him, and
she in turn felt a mixture of respect and of pity for his knowledge and
his limitations. So they became good friends, and people smiled to see
his clouded face and her sunny one bending over the same guide-book.
The little Korosko puffed and spluttered her way up the river, kicking
up the white water behind her, and making more noise and fuss over

her five knots an hour than an Atlantic liner on a record voyage. On
deck, under the thick awning, sat her little family of passengers, and
every few hours she eased down and sidled up to the bank to allow
them to visit one more of that innumerable succession of temples. The
remains, however, grow more modern as one ascends from Cairo, and
travellers who have sated themselves at Gizeh and Sakara with the
contemplation of the very oldest buildings which the hands of man
have constructed, become impatient of temples which are hardly older
than the Christian era. Ruins which would be gazed upon with wonder
and veneration in any other country are hardly noticed in Egypt. The
tourists viewed with languid interest the half-Greek art of the Nubian
bas-reliefs; they climbed the hill of Korosko to see the sun rise over the
savage Eastern desert; they were moved to wonder by the great shrine
of Abou-Simbel, where some old race has hollowed out a mountain as
if it were a cheese; and, finally, upon the evening of the fourth day of
their travels they arrived at Wady Haifa, the frontier garrison town,
some few hours after they were due, on account of a small mishap in
the engine-room. The next morning was to be devoted to an expedition
to the famous rock of Abousir, from which a great view may be
obtained of the second cataract. At eight-thirty, as the passengers sat on
deck after dinner, Mansoor, the dragoman, half Copt half Syrian, came
forward, according to the nightly custom, to announce the programme
for the morrow.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, plunging boldly into the rapid but
broken stream of his English, "to-morrow you will remember not to
forget to rise when the gong strikes you for to compress the journey
before twelve o'clock. Having arrived at the place where the donkeys
expect us, we shall ride five miles over the desert, passing a very fine
temple of Ammon-ra which dates itself from the eighteenth dynasty
upon the way, and so reach the celebrated pulpit rock of Abou-sir. The
pulpit rock is supposed to have been called so because it is a rock like a
pulpit. When you have reached it you will know that you are on the
very edge of civilisation, and that very little more will take you into the
country of the Dervishes, which will be obvious to you at the top.
Having passed the summit, you will perceive the full extremity of the
second cataract, embracing wild natural beauties of the most dreadful

variety. Here all very famous people carve their names,--and so you
will carve your names also."
[Illustration: So you will carve your names also p26]
Mansoor waited expectantly for a titter, and bowed to it when it arrived.
"You will then return to Wady Haifa, and there remain two hours to
suspect (sp.) the Camel Corps, including the grooming of the beasts,
and the bazaar before returning, so I wish you a very happy
good-night." There was a gleam of his white teeth in the lamplight, and
then his long, dark petticoats, his short English cover-coat, and his red
tarboosh vanished successively down the ladder. The low buzz of
conversation which had been suspended by his coming broke out anew.
"I'm relying on you, Mr. Stephens, to tell me all about Abousir," said
Miss Sadie Adams. "I do like to know what I am looking at right there
at the time, and not six hours afterwards in my state-room. I haven't got
Abou-Simbel and the wall pictures straight in my mind yet, though I
saw them yesterday."
"I never hope to keep up with it," said her aunt. "When I am safe back
in Commonwealth Avenue, and there's no dragoman to hustle me
around, I'll have time to read about it all, and then I expect I shall begin
to enthuse and want to come right back again. But it's just too good of
you, Mr. Stephens, to try and keep us informed."
"I thought that you might wish precise information, and so I prepared a
small digest of the matter," said Stephens, handing a slip of paper to
Miss Sadie. She looked at it in the light of the deck lamp, and broke
into her low, hearty laugh.
"Re Abousir," she read; "now, what do