HOW WE FARED IN THE SUEZ DESERT.
T he welcome cry of "Suez! Suez!" resounded throughout the steamship Bentinck one November morning. The passage 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 pass through. Then, with a mighty surge, they had overwhelmed Pharaoh and his host, obedient to the word of God. 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 amusement 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 passed 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-passengers.
After dinner we had some coffee, which we found very refreshing; 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.
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 crushing 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 grasshoppers, 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.
We stopped at one of the little lonely buildings to change horses and mules. The stoppage roused us from the half-asleep state we were in, and we got out of the van to look at the glorious star-gemmed sky. There was an unusual stir in the little building, and the moonlight showed a large dusky mass nearing us. Nearer and nearer it came; and as it passed, we saw that it was a long string of camels.
The war with Persia was going on at this time; and this was a treasure party, carrying money to pay the army. The camels were laden with chests of treasure, silver and gold. On they came, with their long, sailing step. "Ships of the desert," the Arabs call them. The name is well chosen, for their motion over the sea of sand is very like that of some stately vessel over the desert of waters.
The caravan was escorted by a party of Arab horsemen. The officer in command of the party stopped behind for a few moments at the building at which we were halting, to give some orders. The string of camels and their escort were again becoming dusky in the subdued light when he flashed past us on his Arab horse, his drawn sabre glittering in the moonlight, which sparkled for a moment on its jewelled hilt, and on the gems in his turban. Then he too was lost in darkness.
The stately procession moved noiselessly on; the picturesque rider flying by like some fleet graceful bird. No tramp of feet, no ring of horses' hoofs. The deep sand hushed every sound. It was like a beautiful dream; seen for a moment, then vanishing into the land of shadows for ever.
We were fortunate to fall in with this treasure party; still more fortunate to see it by moonlight. Travellers generally pass through the desert by this beaten track without anything to break its monotony.
In a few minutes we were again on our way; those of us who could were dozing, perhaps dreaming of camels and horsemen, and only just conscious of the stoppages we made.
At last some one said, "Wake up, we are near Cairo."
We shook ourselves up, undrew part of the curtains, drew our wraps more closely round us (for the night was cold), and looked out. We were going down a gentle slope, passing walls which enclosed gardens, and above which we could see the tops of trees and shrubs. The moon was getting low, and we could not distinguish what trees and shrubs they were; but the sight of green leaves was very pleasant.
We drove on down the easy descent into Cairo; and at between three and four o'clock in the morning we drew up before Shepheard's Hotel. We had left Suez at ten o'clock on the previous morning. Dusty and tired, we were all glad to have the prospect of a comfortable rest.