MR. LADD’S JOURNAL.
Saturday, Dec. 3.——We started from Assiout at five o’clock this morning on our voyage up the Nile. The air to-day has been wonderfully fine. The landscape, too, has presented a constantly varying panorama full of novelty, full of interest, full of beauty. We have called for a few moments at a number of villages to leave the mail. We have been peering through our glasses, as we sat under the awning on deck, at the natives along the banks in their varied costumes, and in almost no costume at all, at the high bluffs, which in some places rise abruptly from the river, and at the wonderful tombs with their hieroglyphic inscriptions cut out high up in the rocks. The river is full of boats of one kind or another coming and going.
Sunday, Dec. 4.——One misfortune of travel on the Nile is that any discussion of the weather becomes monotonous and trite. Every day is like every other day, beautiful, bright and balmy. No church bells ring for us to-day, so our thoughts naturally turn homeward. The views, as we slowly steam up the river are charming. We pass some bold headlands, call, as yesterday, at many villages by the way, and witness many interesting and peculiar scenes. A fringe of “shadoofs,” with half naked men hard at work at them watering the crops, keep up a constant creaking. We notice also great numbers of birds of every size and shape. We tie up for the night at Keneh, celebrated for its porous jugs, its dates, and once on a time, its dancing girls, whom the march of civilization has driven higher up the river.
Monday, Dec. 5.——We have seen something of what is left of the great city of Thebes, its magnificent temples, its stupendous halls, its wonderful colossi, its interesting tombs——Karnak and Luxor, on one side, Gourna on the other. It is hard to realize what pomp and splendor were once displayed among these ruins, still so grand in their desolation. The strong current of the river got the best of us to-day. The steamer in rounding a point could not be made to obey her helm, and before we knew what was going to happen, with full steam on we ran bunt up against and on to the steep bank. The men pushed and grunted, and finally we got clear and righted up again. We have witnessed a nearly total eclipse of the moon this evening, soon after it rose, which for the manner in which it came on and went off was very remarkable. We could hear the natives in their villages trying to frighten away the dragon which was supposed to be swallowing the moon. We tied up at Esneh for the night. Here we went ashore with torches and lights to visit a portion of a temple, which is in an excellent state of preservation. I first went to see the Mudir to get him to telegraph for us to Korosko for camels. He had retired for the night, but as our business could not be transacted at any other time, I sent in our orders from Cairo, and he soon appeared. Coffee was served, our papers made out, viz.: An order to the governors of places where we might call within his mudirieh to show us proper attention, and a telegram signed by the Mudir to provide camels for us at Korosko. Then joining the rest of the party we visited the temple. The top of it is only a little above the successive deposits of ages, and one has to descend a long flight of steps to reach its floor. It is completely covered with sculptured work, which is finely preserved. This, however, is only the portico of the real temple, the entrance to which is walled up.
ELEPHANT HUNTING
Tuesday, Dec. 6.——Our steamer made a long stop at Edfou to-day, as is customary, to let passengers see its splendid temple. This is the most complete, and the best preserved in Egypt, and gives one the best idea of ancient Egyptian architecture. Its massive pylons had long been in sight as we steamed up the river. As soon as the steamer stopped we took donkeys and started toward them through the winding mud-walled streets of the little town. What a temple! A book would fail to do it justice! Every inch of it is covered with the most beautiful carving. I have not space nor time to tell of how we climbed the pylons and wandered through the dark mysterious chambers, and stood in admiration before those beautiful and ever varied pillars, and explored dark winding passages built in the walls themselves. One has an overwhelming sense of sublimity and awe as he stands under the shadow and in the profound hush of these sacred monuments of a departed glory. We tied up for the night at Gebel Silsileh, a narrow, rocky passage, through which the river seems to have burst its way. Here we went on shore and with the help of torches examined the tombs and chapels and noted quarries. The perfect silence here was almost painful. There was not even the usual gentle murmur of “backsheesh.” Returning to our steamer we took a moonlight row up the river, and over to the opposite shore. Ruins and moonlight, and a boat ride on the Nile! Could anything be more romantic? Here is a picture hung upon the walls of memory never to be forgotten.
Wednesday, Dec. 7.——We have run aground twice to-day. We passed the ruins of Comombo early this morning, and now we are at Assouan, with another stage of our journey accomplished. We have visited the bazaars, where all sorts of curiosities from Nubia and the Soudan are sold, and had crowds of wild-looking, long-haired, grease-smeared and more than half naked desert Arabs thronging around us, and have been besieged with strange looking people with stranger looking things to sell, of which we bought none. In fact, our novel experiences in and about the town would, if all told, be a tale too lengthy for these brief pages. We also visited the island of Elephantine, with its ruins of pottery, human skeletons, and interesting Nile meter. Ibrahim was dispatched the first thing on our arrival, to secure a dahabeyeh for us. He has returned, and reports that he has found one, such as it is, which will take us and our baggage from here to Korosko for £5. We have agreed to take two men, Mousa and Ibrahim Cohen, with us to Khartoum to lighten our expenses. Then we have Mongades, the Bible Society’s man with us, so that we shall really have to pay for the dahabeyeh only about £3. We have been invited to see a “fantasia,” but our taste not being cultivated in that direction we declined.
Thursday, Dec. 8.——Some one was sick in the night. Thinking it might be the Doctor I jumped out of bed to go to him, and landed in cold water! The ship had sprung a leak. All the rooms on one side were found to be flooded, and the engine-room was a pond. The pumps were put to work, but it was some hours before the water was where it belonged. Some things in my room were spoiled. We started early for Philæ, where our dahabeyeh lay, at the other end of the cataract. It was five miles, and we took camels so as to gain a little experience in riding preparatory to the long desert journey. Our route lay through the ancient bed of a river. On the way we visited the famous granite quarries, and saw the huge obelisk left partially cut out of its bed. We all went on board our dahabeyeh for lunch. The stars and stripes had been raised, and we also ordered up the English flag in honor of our guests. After lunch, while Ibrahim and Mourgan were getting our baggage on board, we, the party, took a small boat and rowed out to the interesting island of Philæ. First we rowed around it to get a comprehensive view of its beautiful temples. Then we landed, and examined them all in detail. We also visited the ruins of a little Christian church, which an American has discovered.
Friday, Dec. 9.——For some reason I did not sleep well, and was up early and over the side of the dahabeyeh for a good swim in the Nile. A light breeze soon sprang up, the sail was set, and at 8.30 A.M. we were off, the Englishmen still in the cataract. We passed an island to the right of Philæ, stopped for a few moments at a little village where some of our sailors lived and then we were off again, slowly passing immense granite boulders, between narrow banks fringed with dom-palms and very black Nubians, creeping along pretty fast for the light wind that just fills our big sail. We pass Debod, and then towards evening the wind goes down, and we have to make the bank and tie up. We do not remain here long, however. Our Reis, who is a fine fellow, ever on the alert, hears a rustling in the trees, a gale is upon us; the big sail is quickly flung out, and we start almost with a bound and strike a rock! The captain reports “no leak,” and off we go again, fairly flying before the wind. After a while it dies down and once more we have to make the bank and tie up just this side of Gebel Kalabshe. Here we go ashore and wander about, but are quickly recalled by the Reis. A good steady breeze has followed the lull after the gale, and off we go. Now we enter scenery that in the deep shadows of the moonlight is grand and sublime in the extreme. The granite mountains tower up from the water’s edge close to us on either side. There are deep gorges and overhanging cliffs, and huge boulders around which the pent up river swirls and eddies. I have named this wild spot “The Gates of the Tropics,” for now we pass the invisible line and enter the tropics. The southern cross is clearly visible in the heavens near the horizon, and toward it we are flying on the wings of the wind. In the witchery of such an evening, in such a place, we sit on deck till long past the midnight hour.
Saturday, Dec. 10.——The captain has been up all night and we have made a good run of it. It is very hot, and the wind dying down. Over we go for a swim. We have passed a rock-temple, and another very good temple at Dakkeh. The flies are getting to be a perfect pest.
Sunday, Dec. 11.——The wind is lighter and our progress has been slower. However, we have gradually drawn away from the grand rocky mountains that rose up abruptly from the water’s edge on our left this morning, and now around us are the volcanic peaks that indicate the vicinity of Korosko. We reached Korosko at 4 P.M., having made remarkably good time from Assouan. We noticed a queer peak just before reaching the town. There is a sacred mountain with a tomb upon it just at the rear of the village. Soon after our arrival the governor and various other officials came on board. The old governor was delighted when he found that we could talk together in Turkish. The usual formality of salaams, and coffee, etc., were duly exchanged. Our camels were ready for us.
Monday, Dec, 12.——We had a pleasant visit this morning from a merchant who arrived by caravan during the night from Darfur. We talked together in Greek. We have moved our boat higher up stream. Have received a number of visits from officials and sore-eyed men. The Doctor is having quite a practice. We have climbed the road that weary pilgrims tread to the top of the sacred mountain Gebel Aboo-Gowenah, whence we have had a fine, extensive view of the winding river, and the billowing ocean of volcanic peaks, and our own desert route that winds in and out among them. We send off a batch of letters for home, pack and get ready for our long journey. The bread is all made and properly dried.
Tuesday, Dec, 13.——Up about 5 A.M., roused the crowd, and pushed things as fast as possible. We expected to find the camels waiting on the bank, but not a living being was in sight. Hours went by and nobody appeared; we sent two men in different directions after the sheik of the camel-drivers, but he was not! Finally patience was exhausted. We went to the Governor’s house to see if we couldn’t start things up a little. He was pretending to hold court, but dismissed the case when he saw us. Then it being the proper thing to do we raised a row with His Majesty over our delay. It had the desired effect. The sheik was speedily produced, and we rode back to the boat on donkeys, with the whole crowd at our heels. Here we soon discovered that the governor, the sheik, and every other man in the crowd was determined to have a finger in the pie, and make us pay double the proper prices for all our camels. We talked and reasoned till 1 P.M. without avail. Then we grew righteously indignant. We laid down our terms——refused to listen to another word——gave orders to have everything put back on board the boat if they were not accepted, and threatened to go on to Wady Halfa and denounce the whole crowd of them as miserable rascals. Our terms were then accepted, and they thought a good deal more of us for standing for our rights instead of yielding to their exorbitant demands. Part of the money was paid and part held in reserve; the papers were made out, the baggage weighed and loaded, and at 1.30 P.M. we started out. We went about a mile or two into the desert, and camped in a rocky ravine, and here we got everything into good shape, looked to everything connected with our water supply, and made ready for the real business of the long desert before us; and here begins our tent life.
Wednesday, Dec. 14.——Broke camp, and started the caravan at 8.30 A.M. Now for the great desert journey! All the morning we pass peak after peak of a volcanic nature. At 2 P.M. we stopped, took a hasty bite of lunch in a sort of cave in a mountain called Elemnasir. Then on and on we go, swaying back and forth on our camels, and trying to “bone down” to the regular business before us. At 5.15 P.M. we went into camp for the night, considering it wiser not to make too long a day of the first one, as camels and men were both fresh, but to reserve our forces for the great strain toward the last. The spot chosen for our camp is a wild place under the shelter of a volcanic peak called Diakazarkha. Up goes the tent, all hands taking hold with a will. Mourgan starts a fire; now then, in the words of the “old folks’” song, “Jerusha, put the kettle on and we’ll all take tea.” Mourgan produces a marvel of a meal for such a place, and we fall to at once to do it ample justice. Our caravan consists of 19 camels and 15 men. The guide is a strong, bold fellow, thoroughly up to his business, and evidently enjoys commanding his men. The camels get only 2½ quarts of dourra a day, carry about 400 lbs. each, and are expected to go without water till we reach Murrat. Our water supply is to last us till we reach the Nile at Aboo-Hamed, as the water at Murrat is not drinkable. How brightly the stars shine out here. The stillness of the desert soon rests upon the camp, broken only by the occasional growl of a camel, and the snoring of the men.
Thursday, Dec. 15.——We are all up early, take a hasty breakfast, pull down the tent, load the camels amid a chorus of roars and growls, and start the whole caravan at 7 A.M. More volcanic peaks. The ground is everywhere covered with balls of iron from the size of a large pea to that of a cannon-ball. The iron is so pure that the natives are able to beat these balls into knives, etc. Now we see our first mirage. It is a beautiful lake, whose surface, scarcely rippled by the gentle breeze, clearly reflects a distant mountain range. The illusion is perfect. We lunch in a cave in a place called Gamoor. We have met one caravan of cattle and another of two or three hundred camels. Our guide stopped to camp about five o’clock, thinking probably that we were exhausted by this time. He looked surprised but pleased when we protested, and informed him that we intended to make forced marches of at least twelve hours every day. On and on we went into the darkness, for it is dark at five. At 7.10 we halted and pitched our camp in a portion of the desert called Nasbelhedoriah. Before we arrived in camp there was a commotion. What’s the matter? Nothing, only the cook has fallen asleep and rolled off from his camel! But the shining, round face comes up with a grin, “All right, kutter herak kattir.” We are not half way to Murrat yet, and the water in our “bootleg” bottles and skins is as black as ink. A whole week more before we reach the river!