Mount Seir, Sinai and Western Palestine/Chapter 2

by Edward Hull

CHAPTER II.

EGYPT.

Land now disappeared from view, and we bid farewell to Europe; the blue ring of the horizon was unbroken during the next day. After sunset I went to the bow of the ship to watch the effect produced by the medusæ when tossed up in the foam of the ship’s prow. It is a sight full of beauty. Each sheet of white foam, as it was cast aside by the ship’s side, was lighted by a thousand silver sparks caused by the phosphorescence of these pretty little creatures, quite invisible to the eye by daylight. I was told that sometimes dolphins may be seen disporting themselves amidst the shoals of medusæ, but on this occasion we were not so fortunate as to see any. On the 1st November we entered Port Saïd at 10 a.m., and for the first time touched the shore of the African continent; I trust, with thankful hearts for all the mercies we had received.

Slowly we steamed up the harbour towards our anchorage, passing a line of steamships of several nations, chiefly British. On passing an Egyptian man-of-war we received a salute (presumably in honour of General Sir E. Wood, but the question has not been decided!) the men standing all along the bulwarks with hands horizontally extended, looking like so many human crosses clad in white, or like shirts hung out to dry. Soon after, a state barge came alongside to take Sir E. Wood and his party off for Ismailia. It was unfortunately completely filled, so that there was no room for us—doubtless a matter of profound regret to the General, who took his departure amidst much shaking of hands and waving of handkerchiefs. Leave-taking now became general all round. Our passengers broke up into parties for their respective destinations; and at length we tumbled overboard into a boat and rowed for land with the gloomy prospect of a night sail up the canal in a passenger steam-barge amidst a crowd of unsavoury Moslems. Our baggage was carried to the hotel by porters, whose powers of endurance seemed little short of those of mules or camels. Mountains of heavy baggage, calculated, one would have supposed, to crush them to the earth, were piled on their backs. All hands helped the men to their feet, and off they started for the Custom House amidst the shouts and gesticulations of their comrades. We were, however, spared the annoyance of unpacking our baggage; the Director-General of Customs having, through Mr. Cook’s agent, sent instructions to pass all our baggage and effects unexamined.

During dinner we made a discovery which relieved us of our difficulty. We learned that a P. and O. steamer was to leave Port Saïd at 4 o’clock for Alexandria, and we resolved to take passage in her, and by this way to go on to Cairo. The “Dakatlieh” was airy and not very full of passengers, and after the close packing of the “Tanjore” we felt very comfortable ndeed. We had a good night’s rest, and were up betimes to view the African coast, evidences of which first appeared in the distant lines of feathery palms. We had been coasting for many miles off the Delta of the Nile, and all along our track the waters of the Mediterranean had changed their ordinary deep green into a lighter tinge, in consequence (as I was informed by Mr. Le Mesurier, of the Egyptian Railway Department) of the influx of the Nile waters.

It is unquestionable that the Nile carries down large quantities of mud into the Mediterranean, which is taken up by the prevalent east-ward current, and finds its way into the harbour of Port Saïd, where dredging operations have constantly to be carried on at heavy cost in order to keep the channel of the required depth. The Damietta branch of the Nile may, from its position with reference to Port Saïd and the ship-canal, be considered the more immediate cause of the silting up of the canal bed.

This source of expense and danger to the navigation Mr. Le Mesurier proposes to meet in the following way^[1]:— It will be observed on referring to a map of the district, that between the harbour of Port Saïd and the Suez Canal on the one side, and the Damietta branch of the Nile on the other, lies the great inland lake of Menzaleh, through which the canal has been carried, chiefly by dredging, for a distance of twenty-seven miles. The portion west of the canal still remains under water, but that to the east is now dry. This western portion, covering an immense area, Mr. Le Mesurier proposes to convert into a great precipitating basin for the Damietta branch, the effect of which would be ultimately to convert this tract into a vast field for agricultural purposes, while the waters which would pass off into the Mediterranean, being to a great extent deprived of their silt, would cause immediate relief to the harbour of Port Saïd, and that part of the canal which opens into it. This is a grand scheme, calculated to be of benefit both to the agricultural and commercial interests of Egypt. I can only express the hope that Mr. Le Mesurier may have the happiness of seeing it one day put into execution.

On approaching Alexandria, a pilot came on board to steer us through the intricate channel by which the harbour is entered; and on rounding the point of the large breakwater, we came in view of the city and its harbour^[2] all at once, a view calculated to afford both pleasure and surprise,—pleasure at its beauty; surprise, that a harbour and city so recently the scene of a tremendous bombardment, should, at first sight, present such slight traces of the conflict. In front lay the city, built on a gradually-ascending slope, and in the background to the left the elevated and fashionable suburb of Ramleh. On the left of the harbour, the Fort of Pharos, partly in ruins, the lighthouse, and the Palace of Ras-el-Teen, white and glistening in the sunshine, and surrounded by pleasant gardens. On the right, the barracks, fortifications, lighthouse, and other public buildings: and in the distance, the noble column known as “Pompey's Pillar.” The harbour itself was gay and busy. Ships of many nations lay at their moorings, both merchantmen and passenger steamships; while the beautiful yacht of the Khedive swung at anchor in the centre. The surface of the water swarmed with smaller craft and barges, amongst which was one to convey on shore Her Majesty's Consul, Mr. Cookson, who had made the passage with us from Port Saïd, and whose acquaintance we had the pleasure of making. He kindly insisted on sending us ashore in his barge, and told off his khawass to accompany us to our hotel, and afterwards to conduct us over the palace and fortifications. Owing to this kind action on the part of Mr. Cookson, we were enabled to see the principal sights of this ancient city to the best advantage; nor did this gorgeous, but most amiable, official leave us till he had seen us off in the train for Cairo in the evening.

We found much of the city in ruins—ruins caused by the mob, not by British guns; and, as much uncertainty prevailed as regards the future of Egypt, restoration and rebuilding were proceeding but slowly. It only required the British Government to make the announcement that at least a contingent of our troops should be allowed to remain in Egypt for the preservation of order to induce capitalists to come forward and commence building. But this the Government had hesitated to do, and confidence in the future was consequently shaken. Who that knows Egypt can doubt that a permanent protectorate, supported by a sufficient British army, would prove a blessing of incalculable value to the country?

No object in Alexandria interested me more than the noble monolith known as “Pompey's Pillar.” The name is misleading, as one naturally associates it with that of the great Roman general; but, as the Greek inscription shows, it was erected in honour of Diocletian during the prefecture of Pompeius, in the year 302.^[3] But whatever its origin, its immense size and beautiful proportions strike the beholder with admiration. Like most of the Egyptian monoliths, it is of red porphyritic granite, 73 feet in length, with a circumference of 29 feet 8 inches, highly polished, standing on a pedestal, and surmounted by a capital 16 feet 6 inches in diameter, giving a total height of very nearly 100 feet to the monument. It may well be doubted whether a monolith of this description belongs to the epoch of the Roman occupation. It is far more likely that its origin dates back to that period of very ancient Egyptian art which gave birth to the obelisks, the Sphinx, and the Great Pyramids. Its original birthplace was amongst the granite quarries of Upper Egypt, and whether hewn fresh from the native rock, or taken from some more ancient structure, it was a work of no small skill to transport it from its original site and erect it upon the elevated platform of solid limestone from which it is visible for miles in almost every direction.

It is to be hoped that Pompey's Pillar will defy the cupidity of foreign states. Within a few years the two companion monoliths of the ancient city have been carried away: one to adorn the banks of the Thames, the other those of the Hudson. Who that visits the modern cities of Europe, and witnesses the monuments of ancient Egyptian art, of which that country has been stripped, in order that they may be adorned, can restrain a sigh of regret at the spoliation of the land where art of the grandest conception had its birthplace and its maturity while that of Greece and Rome was still in the future?

We left Alexandria in the afternoon, in company with an officer of the army of occupation, and travelled along a route, to us, new and full of interest. The railway at first passes along enormous mounds of broken pottery. And here I may mention that in the East, often when all traces of buildings have disappeared, fragments of pottery remain to attest the former existence of buildings. The reason of this is that pottery is almost indestructible. Houses, temples, churches, may have been laid in ruins, the materials broken up and carried away, but a "potter's vessel" when once broken is useless for any purpose; no one cares for it, and it is left to add to the accumulations which take place at every town or village.

Soon we emerged on the Garden of Egypt, the fertile Delta of the Nile, without which, indeed, Egypt would be but a rocky or sandy desert penetrated by a deep gulf, as the Egyptian priests informed Herodotus was its original condition. Interminable fields of maize, cotton, sugarcane, and other produce cultivated by the fellahin, succeed each other, irrigated by means of little water-wheels, sometimes worked by men, sometimes by bullocks, the water carried in narrow channels made by the feet, and allowed, when required, to flow over the beds containing seed; all probably very much as in the time of Ptolemy, if not even earlier. Groves of the date-palm, with enormous clusters of golden fruit, rose aloft above the level of the Delta, or formed small clumps near the villages.

The cultivation of the palm, and of other fruit trees, was largely extended by Mehemet Ali, who made a decree promising remission of a certain amount of taxation for each tree planted. This had the desired effect. On producing a certificate of having planted so many trees the fellahin had his taxes reduced. Some time after, when the work of plantation had been accomplished, the decree was repealed, and a tax was put on the trees—a financial operation of questionable probity, but beneficial to the Government and to the cultivator, who enjoyed the fruits of his labour.

We passed several towns and villages of the fellahin; of the latter nothing can be conceived more miserable as human abodes, and in comparison with which a village in Connaught might be considered worthy of admiration. The houses consist of small mud cabins huddled together, in which men, women, and children share the space with dogs, fowls, and pigeons. The cow or donkey does not require shelter at night in this part of the world;—so is excluded from the family circle.

We crossed two branches of the Nile, each about as wide as the Thames at Kew, the water of which was as usual turgid. The water had fallen to 6 feet below its maximum, which it reached about the middle of October. The origin of the fine sediment which the Nile always carries in suspension, as well as of the rise and fall of the waters themselves, is now fully understood since the publication of Sir S. Baker's remarkable work.^[4] Briefly stated, the origin is somewhat as follows:—The Nile below Khartoum consists of one undivided stream; but at El Darner, about 170 geographical miles lower down, it receives the waters of a great tributary, the Atbara, descending from the highlands of Abyssinia. This river undergoes the most extreme transformations. During the early months of the year the waters are so reduced as sometimes to form only a series of great stagnant pools, in which are collected in very close quarters all the aquatic inhabitants, consisting of fishes, crocodiles, and huge tortoises. The banks, through a long line of country at the base of the mountains, are formed of masses of mud and silt, easily undermined, and liable to fall into the waters on the rise of the river. About June tremendous thunderstorms, accompanied by deluges of rain, break on the Abyssinian highlands. The waters of the Atbara rise with extraordinary rapidity, and descend with a roar like that of distant thunder, giving warning of the approaching deluge. Soon the channel is filled up with the flood, the banks of mud are undermined, and fall down in large masses into the waters, where they are speedily broken up and converted into silt, the finer portions of which being carried along finally enter the Nile, and impart to its waters much of the turgid character for which they are known in Lower Egypt.^[5] The river now becomes a great fertilising agent, and when allowed to flow over the cultivated fields imparts the necessary moisture; so that, under the influence of a powerful sun, two to three crops can be annually gathered off the land; giving rise to an extraordinary amount of natural wealth. That this sediment originally caused lower Egypt to be reclaimed from the Mediterranean Sea was known to Herodotus, who calls this country “the gift of the Nile.”

Arrived at Cairo one of the first arrangements to be made is for a visit to the Pyramids, always a memorable event in any man's life. After all

that has been written upon these grand monuments of Egyptian art it might appear presumption to attempt to add even a small quota of information; still, at the risk of such an imputation, I venture to give a brief account of my own impressions.

The drive out from Cairo is very charming. Having crossed the river the road runs along its bank for several miles under the shade of over-hanging branches of the Nile acacia, and fine views of Cairo and of the range of the Mokattam Hills behind are obtained. Here we happened to meet the Khedive and his retinue on returning from his morning drive, and further on we turned in at a gate leading past the palace built for the Prince of Wales, through groves of oranges, lemons (just beginning to ripen), fields of maize, sugarcane, and cotton. Another turn brought us to the causeway, which runs in a straight line westward towards the base of the platform on which the Pyramids of Cheops and Ghizeh are built, and from which the first view of them, is obtained. The first view will probably disappoint the traveller, for (owing to the transparency of the air) the distance is greater than he supposes; consequently the structures appear smaller than is really the case. The avenue itself is three miles long, in a perfectly straight line, over-arched by acacia trees, whose shady boughs, laden with large fruit-pods, afford a grateful shade from the sun's rays.

The best view of the Pyramids is obtained from a part of the causeway road, about half a mile from the platform on which they are built. From this point the four principal Pyramids are seen ranged in line; that of Cheops, or “the Great Pyramid,” in front; that of Ghizeh next, and two much smaller ones in the rear. In the background is the ridge of sand which marks the line of the desert, stretching on either hand for miles.

It is well known that these great tombs of Egyptian monarchs are built on a platform of the nummulite limestone, which has been partially levelled for the foundations, but has never been entirely cleared from the accumulated rubbish. This platform of solid rock marks the limits of the Nile Valley. On driving up to the summit of the platform you are immediately beset by a crowd of importunate Arabs, who have mastered sufficient of your language to make you understand that independent action is out of the question, and that you may as well resign yourself submissively into their hands. Having done so, and decided whether you will ascend to the summit or descend into the vast interior, you get breath to cast your eyes upwards along the face of this jagged mountain aide, as it now appears, and to appreciate in some measure the vastness of its proportions.

The Pyramids you behold are, however, very different from those of the time of Herodotus. In the first place you perceive that the Great Pyramid is truncated, instead of ending nearly in a point like its neighbour, that of Ghizeh. Again, you observe that the apex of Ghizeh is cased in smooth stone while the whole exterior of the Great Pyramid is formed of step-like rows of masonry. It was not thus that the Egyptian architect handed over his great work to his monarch; for in 1837 Colonel Howard Vyse discovered two casing stones in position, which may now be seen. They are blocks of limestone, 8 feet 3 inches long and 4 feet 11 inches in perpendicular height,^[6] and indicate that the whole exterior was encased by polished blocks, giving it a perfectly smooth and glittering surface, well calculated to protect the building from injury, and to give an aspect of finish and completeness very different from that which it now presents.^[7]

The act of vandalism which has deprived the Pyramids of their outer casing was perpetrated by the Caliphs, who carried away the stones to build the mosques of Cairo; the result being that the general appearance of the exterior gives one the impression that these most ancient of buildings are rapidly disintegrating and destined to fall to pieces in the course of ages. This is no mere fancy. Let any one examine closely the condition of the outer walls, and he will find that they are penetrated by cracks and little fissures in all directions, along which the stone is crumbling away. These are due, I believe, to the expansion and contraction occasioned by the great changes of temperature between day and night; and the consequence is, that when a thunderstorm breaks over the district, as sometimes happens, the loosened pieces are washed down, and fresh surfaces for the sun to act upon are exposed. In course of time, therefore, the Great Pyramid, as well as that of Ghizeh,^[8] must become a ruin; and for this the only remedy is re-casing.

All our party but myself elected to ascend the summit—I to visit the interior, in hopes of recognising some of Professor Piazzi Smyth's marks and determinations; so, delivering myself into the hands of four Arabs, I dived into the dark passage. This is an undertaking which (as Miss Martineau observes) no one should attempt who is at all of a nervous temperament. You soon begin to repent of your choice when you find yourself within the dark walls, descending deeper and deeper, two savages before and two behind. Occasionally they stop, and put the question, "How you feel, sir?" to which, of course, you reply, "Oh, quite well!" Inwardly you feel quite the reverse, but it is no time to allow the slightest hint of timidity to escape. At length, after an indefinite descent, and another equally indefinite ascent, you find yourself in the great interior called the "King's Chamber," dark and oppressive, notwithstanding the flickering of the candles which your guides carry. And now they take advantage of their opportunity: they demand bakhsheesh, produce various "antiqua," generally shams, and strive to make you purchase on the spot. Making a virtue of necessity, I promised bakhsheesh all round, and that I would make certain purchases upon getting to the open air, it being manifestly impossible to examine these articles with the aid of their gloomy light. This satisfies my tormentors, and after a hasty glance all round, we commence our outward descent, and at length emerge into the dazzling light of day. My guides again produce their "antiqua" demand their bakhsheesh; but now it is my time to make terms. Seating myself on a stone, I proceed to select what I wish, and to name my own price; and finally, with a franc each for bakhsheesh, send them about their business.^[9]

Meanwhile my companions had descended from the summit of Cheops, and were engaged in discussing with their Arab guides "the great bakhsheesh question." My ambitious colleague, Mr. Hart, however, was not satisfied with the ascent of one pyramid; and, taking advantage of his opportunity, while the backs of the Arabs were turned, gave them the slip and was soon scaling the sides of Ghizeh, the top of which he safely reached. What, then, was the surprise of the guides on beholding one of the Englishmen from this elevated position calmly surveying the landscape!

They could scarcely credit their senses; but presently, giving vent to their feelings in unutterable Arabic, they proceeded towards the pyramid in hot pursuit, and on reaching the little platform on the summit surrounded my imperturbable colleague, gesticulating violently and overwhelming him with imprecations. Above all things they could not believe that he had scaled the slippery polished cap of the pyramid in the boots in which he stood. So, in order to satisfy them on this point, he proceeded to descend as he had gone up, and safely reached the bottom along with his bare-legged tormentors. It was afterwards explained that the Arabs were answerable with their heads for any mishap to travellers visiting the Pyramids, but it is probable that "the great bakhsheesh question" was really the most potent cause of their dissatisfaction on this occasion.

The Pyramids are built of nummulite limestone—not hewn on the spot, but brought from quarries situated at the base of the hills ten miles above Cairo, on the right bank of the Nile. The quarries are of vast size, as I was informed by Dr. Schweinfurth; and one may there see tokens of the care exercised in selecting the stone, soft portions being left, the harder cut out for blocks. The lines drawn by the overseer for the workmen are also visible on the walls. The blocks were transported on a sloping causeway to the water's edge, floated across, and then hauled up a long similar causeway, still in existence, on the opposite side to their destination.

The Sphinx is, however, sculptured out of the native rock, and the horizontal lines of stratification are too plainly visible.^[10] The head is of harder material than the neck, which is formed of softer and whiter strata. Every one must regret the defacement which this grand work of Egyptian art has undergone; but knowing the custom of Mohammedans to deface all objects which they consider idolatrous, it is not difficult to trace the cause for this act of barbarism.^[11]

The so-called Temple of the Sphinx must excite the admiration of every beholder. It consists of a series of vast rectangular chambers, cut out of the solid limestone, with recesses for tombs. The walls are lined with massive blocks of the red granite of Syene, beautifully cut and polished, each fitting closely to its neighbour. One of the walls lies exactly north and south, so that when the shadow of the sun is coincident therewith it is noonday.

In this temple (as I was informed by one of the guides) Professor Smyth spent much of his time when engaged in making the measurements for his well-known work.^[12]

When passing through Alexandria we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of that indefatigable traveller and excellent geologist, Dr. Schweinfurth, to whom Mr. Hart had a letter of introduction. Having arrived at Cairo just after ourselves, he kindly offered to accompany us on a visit to the Mokattam Hills, at the base of which the city is built, and from which the stone for the construction of the houses and public buildings has been chiefly obtained.

This range of hills, though of no great elevation (600 to 700 feet), forms a fine background to the city, as well as to the Valley of the Nile, owing to the abrupt and scarped face it presents towards the north and west. It is composed of beds of the nummulite limestone, remarkably fossiliferous, both nummulites, shells, echini, and even fossil crabs being abundant. The quarries are of great extent, and the stone beautifully white, or slightly yellow, and capable of being chiselled into fine mouldings and architectural forms. From the summit of the ridge, which had been the sanitary camp of the British troops during the outbreak of cholera, we enjoyed an extensive view, and one full of variety and interest. To the right, at our feet, lay the capital of Egypt, with its streets, palaces, mosques, and churches, interspersed with gardens and groves of trees; and in the foreground, standing on a projecting platform, the citadel and the mosque of Mehemet Ali, with its exquisitely graceful minarets. To the left, and washing the eastern base of the hills, stretched the green and fruitful plain of the Nile; the great river itself carrying its channel from side to side, and crossed opposite the city by the bridge we had passed over the previous day. Looking across the valley, the horizon towards the west is bounded by the yellow ridge of the desert sands, in front of which, as if to mark the boundary between the region of verdure and that of drear sterility, are planted the Pyramids, in grand procession, headed by the greatest and oldest; those of less stature and of more recent date bringing up the rear throughout a tract of many miles up the river side. Away towards the north might be seen the plain of the Delta, with its green illimitable fields, and frequent groves of palms. From no other spot, perhaps, can the mind become so fully impressed by the fact that to the Nile, and the Nile alone, does Egypt owe all she has of fertility and wealth. Beyond is the desert of sand, a sea-bed without its animate forms, lifeless and waste. Dean Stanley has well observed, that the Nile, as it glides between the Tombs of the Pharaohs, and the City of the Caliphs, is indeed a boundary between two worlds.^[13]

Under the guidance of Dr. Schweinfurth we were able to see the most satisfactory evidence that at a very recent period, and while the shells of the Mediterranean and Red Seas were still unchanged, all the great plain we have been contemplating was submerged to a depth of over 200 feet. At about this level the limestone rock is bored by Pholades, and shells now living in the neighbouring seas are to be found imbedded in sand and gravel which then formed the shores; while the coast-line was defined by the cliffs, which rose some 400 feet above the waters. The sand-beds with large Clypeasters, which occur south of the Pyramids, indicate the position of this sea-bed on the opposite side of the Nile Valley. How great has been the change since then! But long ere the foundations of the Pyramids were laid, the sea had receded to a level perhaps not very different from that at which it stands to-day.^[14]

On ascending towards the summit of the ridge we visited several enormous caverns sufficiently large to shelter an army, which occur on both sides of the valley, and at an elevation of about 500 feet above the sea. These caverns are hollowed in the limestone rock, and evidently not by human agency. They afford a suitable retreat for the rock pigeons, which we started from their nests. Dr. Schweinfurth considers these to be ancient sea-caves; and if this be so the land has been still further submerged within a very recent period. On the summit of the plateaux we reached one of the entrenchments of the army of Arabi Pasha; and at a short distance further, towards the east, the British station for making observations on the recent transit of Venus. The spot is marked by a block bearing the following inscription:—

Captain Green, R.E., 1883.

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Next in interest to the Pyramids we may place the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities at Cairo, a collection of surpassing interest and variety, illustrative of ancient Egyptian art, collected mainly through the instrumentality of Mariette Bey. The museum stands by the banks of the Nile. It unfortunately happened that at the time of our visit the Director, to whom I had a letter of introduction, was absent, and the official catalogue had not then been published, but with the aid of either "Murray" or "Baedeker," and the inscriptions accompanying the objects themselves, the visitor need be at no loss.

In this place I may refer to the Nile oscillations. On the wall of Shepherd's Hotel is to be seen a map, or diagram, upon which is represented the oscillations of the water for each year as it comes round.^[15] Those for the year 1882-3 were as follows:—

Elevation.		Months.
Minimum	$\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$	May. June.
Slight increase		Latter part of June.
Rapid increase	$\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$	July. Middle of August.
Slight increase	$\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$	Middle of August. Middle of September.
Maximum		End of September.
Slight Decrease		Middle of October.
Rapid fall	$\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right.}$	End of October. November. December.
Gradual decrease	$\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right.}$	January. February. March. April.

On Monday, 5th November, our Arabs and camels mustered for inspection in an open space of ground not far from our hotel, and we went out to visit them and to have our first experience of bestriding a camel's back. There were about forty in all—some with saddles for riding, these being slight and young-looking; the others with nets and ropes for baggage. The men belonged to the Towâra tribe, of whom the head Sheikh, Ibu Shedid, resides permanently in Cairo.^[16] I liked the faces of the men, which were open and good-humoured, and felt confident we should be perfectly safe under their charge;—a confidence not misplaced by subsequent events. The Towâras occupy the whole of the Sinaitic promontory south of the Tih plateau. They are divided into five branches, of which the Szowaleha is the largest; next the Aleygats, then the El-Mezeine, the Ulad Soleiman who live near the town of Tor; and last, the Beni Wassel, a very small branch near the south-east coast.

The Towâras are a peaceable tribe, friendly to travellers, and had no part in the murder of Professor Palmer and Lieutenant Gill. Their Sheikh, on the contrary, was instrumental in bringing four of the culprits to justice, and accompanied Sir C. Warren into the desert to effect their capture.^[17]

The negociations for our escort had been effected between Messrs. T. Cook and Son’s agent at Cairo and the Abbot of the Monastery of St. Catherine. By him our men and camels were sent over to Cairo, from their home in the Wâdy Feirân, in order to receive their baggage loads, and to pass inspection; and they had arrived outside the city the evening before we saw them in the space near the hotel. In the course of the day the whole procession with their loads passed in front of our hotel, and afforded a sight probably not very novel to the residents, but to us not only novel, but of considerable interest. The camels upon which we were to ride were bestrode by their respective drivers; then came others with barrels of flour, barrels for water, the tents, five in number, rolled up into the most compact dimensions; boxes of provisions, our camel trunks, crates with live turkeys and poultry, and other matters too numerous to mention in detail. We were not again to see them until our arrival at the landing stage near Ayun Mûsa, on the eastern side of the Gulf of Suez, to which place we intended to proceed by rail and boat.

On the morning of 8th November we left Cairo by rail for Suez, passing by Zagazig and Tel-el-Kebir, where Arabi Pasha had made, a few months previously, his most determined, but ineffectual, stand against the British arms. As far as Zagazig the country is richly cviltivated, immense fields of corn, cotton, and sugarcane succeeding each other mile after mile; while the station platforms were piled with great bales of cotton, compressed and bound with iron-straps, for shipment to England and elsewhere.

Occasionally the Egyptian ibis, an elegant bird with white plumage, and in form somewhat like a small heron, might be seen in flocks amongst the cultivated fields, close to the teams of buffaloes while ploughing; or at other times perched on the backs of the buffaloes themselves, busily engaged in clearing the ticks from these animals;—a process which the animals themselves evidently enjoyed.

After leaving Zagazig the country becomes more and more arid and desert-like, till at length, on approaching Tel-el-Kebir, the sands set in as far as the eye can reach on both sides. We noticed the ditch and entrenchments of Arabi's army which were stormed by the British troops under General Lord Wolseley, and a small camp of Egyptians still occupied the ground. We also passed the burial-ground of the British troops who fell on that memorable occasion, prettily planted with shrubs and flowers, which were being carefully tended by gardeners. Tablets to the memory of the officers and soldiers have been placed on the walls of the English church at Cairo.

The route lay along the side of the "Sweetwater Canal," which carries the waters of the Nile to Suez, Ismailia, and Port Said. This canal was constructed by the Ship-Canal Company, and it occupies very much the line of the ancient channel intended to connect the waters of the Nile with those of the Red Sea. Beyond the tract influenced and irrigated by its waters, all was sandy desert covered by scrub, amongst which the only visible inhabitants were a shepherd and his flock. It was dark when we reached Suez, and on entering our hotel we learned that the steamship, the "Shannon," had arrived from England, and lay in the gulf awaiting the arrival of H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught, on his way to India.

Next morning, on ascending to the roof of our hotel, to take a glance at the surrounding country, we were struck by the bold aspect of Jebel Attâkah, which rises in the form of a lofty escarpment along the western shore of the Gulf of Suez a few miles from our position. In form and outline it seemed to bear some resemblance to the ridge of Jebel Mokattam behind Cairo, and to be in some measure, in a geological point of view, representative of it; the strata were, in fact, easily visible from the roof of the hotel. We determined to devote the day to a visit to this fine range, and taking a sail-boat manned by four Arab sailors and a boy we dropped down the gulf. The wind was light, and sometimes failed us, so that the sailors had recourse to the oars, which they accompanied by a monotonous chant extemporised for the occasion, and, as we supposed, in our honour; as we could distinguish the word "hawajah"^[18] not unfrequently. At length, after three hours, we landed on a pier leading up to the quarries which were opened by M. De Lesseps for his buildings at Suez. From the pier we toiled up to the quarries under a burning sun (the temperature in the shade being 91° Fahr.), and were rewarded by finding the limestone rocks crowded with fossil shells, though generally only in the form of casts. Our return was enlivened by a steady breeze which sprung up from the north-west; and as we were carried along we kept a sharp look-out for the flying fish, which from time to time leaped out of the water, and after skimming over the crest of the waves for some yards, disappeared. As we neared the harbour the sun went down behind Jebel Attâkah; and soon after, the sky over the hills was all aglow, as if behind it were concealed a great city in conflagration; the deep red of the west shading off through purple and roseate hues into the dark grey of the zenith. It is only in the East that such sunsets reward the beholder.

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1. The project I only give in outline, as kindly communicated to me by Mr. Le Mesurier himself, during our stay on board the “Tanjore."
2. The city has two harbours—the western, or Eunostus, and the eastern, or New Port. We entered the western harbour.
3. The inscription is given in Murray's “Handbook for Egypt,” Part I, p. 132.
4. “Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia,” p. 52.
5. A good deal of sediment is also brought down by the Babr-el-Azrek, or the Blue Nile, some of the sources of which also are found in the Abyssinian highlands. The White Nile also is a source of sediment.
6. Murray's “Guide,” Part II, p. 246.
7. It is stated by Abd-el-Lateef that the casing stones were polished and covered with inscriptions.
8. The upper part of Ghizeh is still cased with its original polished blocks, hence its apex terminates in a platform so small as to appear from below almost pointed.
9. There are three execrable words which were constantly cropping up during our journey, and of which travellers should beware, viz.: "bakhsheesh," "antiqua," and "quarantina." The language would be improved if these were expunged from its vocabulary.
10. Our witty, but not very accurate guide, Mark Twain, says the Sphinx is made of granite!
11. As witness the defacement by breaking off the nose of the greater number of the statues in the Museum of Antiquities, Constantinople.
12. "Our Inheritance in the Great Pyramid." However much, in this hypercritical age, one may feel inclined to doubt some of the conclusions at which this author has arrived, every one must admire the labour and enthusiasm with which he endeavoured to work out a great problem.
13. "Sinai and Palestine," Edition 1873, Introduction, p. xxxiv.
14. To this physical fact in the history of the Nile Valley I shall have occasion to allude further on; and the detailed proof must appear in another place. It is only necessary here to give the general result. When we say that the sea has receded, this is owing to the land having been elevated.
15. There are generally three successive risings of the Nile waters, due to the influx of the floods from the Atbara, and the Blue and White Nile branches.
16. Not by choice, probably, but by constraint, as a hostage for the good behaviour of the tribe.
17. It had originally been intended that we should have an escort of the Egyptian Camel Corps, which had been kindly granted by Cheriff Pasha at the request of Major Kitchener, of the Egyptian Cayahy, but the proposal was afterwards abandoned for very good reasons; first, it could not accompany us further than Akabali, beyond which station the services of an escort were only expected to be of value; and secondly, we felt there was no necessity, as we had full confidence in the good faith of our convoy.
18. Hawajah (or gentleman) is the Arabic word applied to Europeans.