Still, I shouldn't say too much against Napoleon and his men, for the bread we ate while at Zeitoun was nearly all baked in the ovens originally built by them.
During our sojourn in camp we "did" the Pyramids of Gizeh, of course. It is a stiff climb to the top, especially if you are wearing riding breeches, but the view you get as a reward is really grand. The interior is also well worth a visit. You'll find the inside of this big sugar-loaf to be as hot as anything this side of Eternity, and you can't help wondering how you'd get out if the top fell in. By the way, most folks when they speak of the Pyramids seem to imagine there are only three in Egypt—those of Gizeh—yet there are several dozens of them, big, medium, and little, scattered about the country. At one place (Sakkarra) I counted either fourteen or sixteen, ranging from little piccaninnies to the oldest one in the world, the Step Pyramid.
I also spent a most enjoyable day on the Nile, in a native boat—feluccas I think they are called, or our own particular craft may have been a small dhow. We paid a visit to the palace of Pharaoh's daughter (the one that found Moses). The foundations and lower part of the original palace are still standing, the upper structure being more modern. The river washes the place on three sides, which, perhaps, accounts for it being fairly clean and fresh-smelling. Little fellaheen villages, partly fishing and partly agricultural, lie scattered here and there along the river banks just as they lay in biblical days. We visited one of these hamlets (they are all much the same), and breathed the usual mixed aroma of camels, goats, sheep, fowls, stale fish, and stale native. I don't wonder that Moses went to sleep there.
I had often read about the yellow Nile water: well, it is yellow enough, in all conscience. But it is a noble old river, and it slides placidly along as if well aware of the fact that Egypt exists on its good-natured benevolence. Its average breadth near Cairo would work out at about 300 yards, I should say. There is no sign of hustle or flurry about the Nile, and if you live near it for a spell you'll have a tough job keeping in the collar, for its spirit is apt to get into your blood some, and you'll find yourself dropping into as big a slow-go as the slowest of the natives who pray to it. And you'll enjoy the experience.
When the bank was good we used to make a point of visiting the show places that could be "done" during the hours of a Sunday. Thus we explored Sakkarra and the buried city of Memphis; saw and admired the excavated statue of Rameses; tried to read the bird-and-animal writing on the walls (some of which was painted over 2000 years B.C., I believe—and still retains its colour); inspected the Tombs of the Sacred Bulls, and were beat to guess how in thunder the huge sarcophagi were got to where we found them. We also paid a visit to Barrage, the place of many dams and much engineering effort—not to mention really pretty gardens wherein one may picnic on lawns clothed with English grasses, and yet rest in the shade of purely tropical and sub-tropical palms and tree-ferns. Some of the chaps even managed to see Luxor, getting three days' leave for the trip. I drew a blank, however: the fare ran to £2 10s. or £3, and at the time I was dead up against it—much to my disgust, as I should have liked immensely to have had a look at the Fayyum, the Garden of Egypt.
Taking it bye and large I don't think we did at all badly in the sight-seeing line, from the Citadel and the Tombs of the Mamelukes in Cairo to the Pyramids, the Nile, and other shows farther afield. We sailed in native boats, rode in gharris, and bestrode camels, mules, and donkeys to further orders. I don't think there was much lying within range of our purses that we failed to prospect. It is a mighty queer country is Egypt, and I hope to see more of it "when the Germans cease to trouble and the Turks are laid to rest."
Before closing this chapter I feel compelled to pay my grateful tribute to the many French friends we made while camped near Cairo. They were courteous and kindly at all times, and in the case of those who, like myself, had numerous opportunities of meeting them, their warm-hearted generosity and lavish hospitality will never be forgotten. They treated us more like brothers than chance acquaintances, inviting us into their homes, and going out of their way to show that they at least believed in the permanency of the entente cordiale. We were brothers-in-arms—just that. Surely Briton and Frenchman shall ever remain so. That I know will be the abiding wish of every man of the Australian forces. I had previously met many of our Gallic friends and liked and admired them; now that we have had the opportunity of becoming better acquainted I embrace this opportunity of expressing my admiration and liking in the strongest possible terms. I feel that I could not do less.
Vive la France!
CHAPTER VI
"THE BATTLE OF THE STREETS"