Part 1 (1/2)

What We Saw in Egypt.

by Anonymous.

CHAPTER I.

HOW WE FARED IN THE SUEZ DESERT.

The welcome cry of ”Suez! Suez!” resounded throughout the steams.h.i.+p _Bentinck_ one November morning. The pa.s.sage up the Red Sea had been rough, and every one was glad to exchange the rolling and pitching of the vessel for land travelling. The railway between Cairo and Suez was not yet finished, and travellers crossed the desert in vans, each of which held six persons and was drawn by two horses and two mules. Our cavalcade consisted of eight of these high-wheeled vans. The fifth team of vans contained four grown-up people and two children, Hugh and Lucy.

It was a lovely day, the sky blue and clear as on the finest summer day in England.

Some little time after leaving Suez, a spot was pointed out to us as the place at or near which the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. The waters were now calm and peaceful; they lay gleaming like silver in the sunlight. But these very waters had been raised as a wall on the right hand and on the left for the children of Israel to pa.s.s through. Then, with a mighty surge, they had overwhelmed Pharaoh and his host, obedient to the word of G.o.d. This miracle of old seemed more real than it had ever done before, while we looked at the very waters on which it was worked.

On we went. A blue cloudless sky above; below, sand, sand, sand: except where, every now and then, we jolted over large blocks of stone which sent us bobbing now to this side, now to that, sometimes almost into each other's faces, to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of the children. We stopped about every seven or eight miles, to change our horses and mules; generally at some little lonely building.

Wherever we stopped, we all got out for a breath of air. For as we pa.s.sed stage after stage, the sameness of the desert began to be tiring, especially to the children. This was not to be wondered at; for, except the occasional skeleton of some poor camel, whose bones were bleached by the sun, there was really nothing to interest them. Hugh consoled himself with a nap now and then, but Lucy was wakeful and restless.

At last we reached the midway station, where we were to stop for nearly an hour, and to dine.

”How glad I am to get out of this stuffy little van, and to stay out of it for a good while!” Lucy cried, as she jumped down on the sand.

So was everybody.

”Will they give us some dinner?”

Certainly, this was the only thing we had to wait for.

We went into a large room, in which were long tables, and benches at them. The dinner was soon brought in. Dishes of fowl and stewed cabbage, dried fruits, and fresh dates, succeeded one another, with plenty of bottled beer. There was no bread. But some of the older travellers had brought some loaves from the _Bentinck_, and were very good-natured in dividing their store with their fellow-pa.s.sengers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SUEZ]

After dinner we had some coffee, which we found very refres.h.i.+ng; and soon the vans were announced. In a few minutes we were in our old seats again, cutting our path through the sand and jolting over large blocks of stone.

”There is another skeleton, papa,” cried Hugh, pointing to the whitened ribs of a camel. ”Do they leave the camels to die, and take no trouble to bury them or do anything with them?”

”Most likely this camel was unable to travel farther,” his father said, ”either from fatigue or old age, and so was left behind by his owner to die. The hot wind and the sun together have bleached his bones. But the skin and hair of the dead camel are both used by the people of the desert. They are made into clothes, mats, halters, and many other useful things.”

”Yes,” said Hugh, in a sleepy voice; and the next minute down went his head on his father's shoulder.

Lucy, too, was all but asleep. She was heartily tired of the jolting van and the changeless dreary sand.

The day had worn on rather wearily to her, and now that night was setting in she felt cold and tired. She was wrapped up in a large shawl, and made a pillow of her mother's lap. Indeed, we were all tired. And as night closed in, and all became dark around us, we began to feel that there was weariness in crossing the desert, notwithstanding the deep interest connected with it.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

On, on we went. The sky had become thickly studded with stars; the moon had risen, and her beams shed a clearer light and cast deeper shadows than they do in our colder country. All was quiet round us. Not a sound, except the crus.h.i.+ng of the sand beneath our wheels and an occasional crack of the whip, urging our horses and mules on their way. There was no chirping of gra.s.shoppers, no croaking of frogs, no beating of tomtoms, such as we had been used to hear at night in our Indian homes.

All was so still that we might have fancied ourselves the only living creatures in all the wild waste of sand.