The glory of the Pharaohs

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

Under an overhanging cliff at one side of this magnificent cañon there was a small pool of clear water, on to which one looked down from the gravel surface of the old torrent bed. A few yards farther up the valley, amidst smooth, moss-covered boulders, there was a thick cluster of vivid green reeds and grasses. A gazelle-trodden path through these led to the brink of a second pool, which passed, in serpentine fashion, amongst the rocks, bordered by reeds swaying gently in the breeze. The water was clear and still, and, in the twilight, most mysterious. A few yards away three palm-trees spread their branches towards the enclosing walls of rock; and near them a slow trickle of water passed out from a hole in the face of the cliff and ran tinkling down to feed the pool below. In all directions grasses and creepers, growing amidst the gravel and the boulders, made the valley alive with colour; and yet this virility was enclosed in dead stone, like a jewel held in its case.

I must admit that I left my companion to superintend the policeman’s work of watering and feeding the horses; for the silent pool amidst the reeds kept me, as it were, enchanted by its side. How still it was in the gathering dusk, how far removed from the world of work! Surely Pan was “within hearing”: Pan, whom the people of the nearest villages and towns had all worshipped in bygone days. If one kept quite still, moved not a muscle, perhaps he would suddenly appear, seated amongst the reeds over yonder, pipes in hand. The birds which had lately twittered and chirped in the valley were now silent, and one might have supposed them listening to music which the mortal ear could not distinguish. Perhaps of a sudden one’s ears would be opened, one’s eyes would see, and the god who, more than all other gods of his day, still holds the imagination, would be made manifest beside this desert pool. But the darkness increased and Pan did not come; and soon the preparations for the night could wait no longer. When at last I arose from the cool and silent place, it was with the conviction firmly set in my mind that this pool and valley were not only sacred to the Copts, but had been holy ground, a sacred place of the god of Panopolis, or ever the Christian faith had been heard of.

It is not unusual in Egypt to find that the worship of a Coptic or Mussulman saint has been substituted for that of an ancient Egyptian god. At the head of the Nubian highroad at Aswân the shrine of the ancient gods has been made the site of a mediæval shêkh’s tomb; and those who now go there to make their prayers before and after a journey are but carrying on a custom as old as history. Amongst the ruins of Thebes there is a hill up which barren women and as yet childless brides climb at dead of night to lay their supplications before the shêkh whose tomb is there erected. They do not know that their ancestors climbed the same hill in the days of the Pharaohs to offer the same petitions to Meritseger, the serpent goddess who had dwelt thereon since the beginning of things. And so in this valley I feel sure that the Coptic hermit who resided here was of no great consequence as judged upon his own merits, as indeed the fact that he is now forgotten indicates, but that the inhabitants of Akhmîm, accustomed in the pagan days of Panopolis to regard this place as holy ground, came gradually to ascribe to him the origin of its sanctity and to forget that in reality its sacredness dated from those days when Pan admired himself in the reedy pool and danced upon the rounded rocks. Sic transit gloria divini!

The modern name of the place, Bir el Ain, is the Arabic for “The Well of the Well-spring”—a somewhat uncomfortable sounding title, I am told, to native ears; and I am inclined to think that ain is derived from the ancient Egyptian word of probably similar sound, meaning “a religious festival.” The place might in that case be so called because it was the well to which the yearly processional festival of Pan made its journey. We know that the image of the god Amen was conducted in this manner round the deserts over against Thebes, in a festival which, Professor Sethe thinks, may have given its name to the famous Wady Ain whither there is some reason to suppose that the procession made its way. It does not require an undue stretch of the imagination, therefore, to suppose that a similar religious ceremony was performed over against Panopolis.

However, be this as it may, no one who has visited this pool, and who has sat at its edge in the cool of the twilight, will deny that Pan might be expected to have made an appearance here in the days of his power.

In the darkness my friend and I spread our blankets upon the gravel, and set to with relish upon our meal of cold meat and eggs, drinking deep from our water-bottles. Then, after a cigar smoked in the silence of contentment, and a last inspection of the horses, we settled down for sleep. The moon, rising behind the cliffs, threw a warm light upon the opposite crest of the rocks and cast the valley wherein we lay into deeper shadow. Not a sound was to be heard except the contented munching of the horses; and long before the moonlight had waxed strong we had dropped quietly to sleep and to dreams of Pan.

At about midnight my friend started up from the ground of a sudden, and as he did so a dark creature bounded away up the valley to the pool, sending the gravel flying beneath its feet. In the light of the moon it appeared to be of great size, but its form was indistinct as it rushed past.

“It was licking my forehead!” said my friend, not quite sure whether he had been dreaming or not.

“It was probably Pan,” said I. And as it was too much bother to get up and find the policeman’s rifle, my companion, rubbing his forehead, returned to the realms of sleep, whither I had preceded him; and neither of us know whether our midnight visitor was a prowling hyena or something more uncanny.

An hour later he again sat up with a start, and away flew an enormous eagle-owl which had been contemplating him at a distance of a few inches from his face. I see, by the way, that Shelley, the great authority on Egyptian birds, states that this neighbourhood is much infested with this species of owl; and I will testify that they are very formidable creatures. By this time the moon was sailing overhead, and it was difficult to sleep in the strong light, which turned the rocks to alabaster and the vegetation to wax. Moreover, there were things moving about in the valley: silent footfalls and deep breathings. And one of the horses became restive. However, sleep at last claimed us, and we did not wake again until the first light of dawn was apparent in the sky.