February 10.—All day at Philæ, and dropped down to Mahatta just as the sun set gloriously behind the ruins and the mighty rocks which surround them.
February 11.—The Ibis shot the great cataract, all but one of our party being on the shore to see the exciting sight,—finer, it is thought, than being on board, though you thus lose the sense of personal danger. We were taken on shore round the trying points, and in our rowboats the rest of the way down to Assouan, where we joined the Ibis, vociferously welcomed by our combined Egyptian and Nubian crews, all rejoicing, as they well might, in the safety of the Ibis, which had never done the feat before and was reckoned rather large for the undertaking. Shopping, etc., filled the day. At evening some of us called on Lady Duff-Gordon, living on her boat, now lying here. I went back later and passed an hour more with her, taking her some books we could spare her. Much pleased with her spirit and affability, but distressed at the progress disease is making; do not think she can last much longer, even in Egypt. Her last year’s visit to Syria injured her seriously.
February 12.—The Undine came down famously at sunrise, and joined us soon opposite the upper end of Elephantiné, where we went up to meet her, expecting to round the island and be off at once down the river. But a heavy blow from the north, and consequent great discouragement; we had to lay by all day, not even getting on shore with any comfort, and almost all night.
You must know that in Upper Egypt and Nubia a hakim or doctor is a great godsend to the people, and you have to give medicine all day long. On returning to Assouan I was met, when I stepped on shore, by the beaming dark countenance of a papa, to whose son, whom I thought rather far gone, I had given some medicine when going up; he had now brought down the fellow from a village several miles off, to show me how well—or nearly well—he was. Another widely grinning face met me, of a papa who had brought me his boy with a dreadfully ill-looking sore head, which I had dosed with mercurial ointment rubbed in with colza oil. He did not now bring the lad, but came a good distance to recall him to my recollection by expressive pantomime, and to say in the same way that he was “all right.” Eye-wash I dispensed in profuse abundance; and among the men cured several cases of ophthalmia which looked serious; and many a petty surgical operation did the “Hakim-Pacha”—as he came to be called—perform. I cannot tell you how much attached we got to our crews and their officers, and before we parted I made sure that many tears should flow in my behalf, by acceding to requests for eye-lotions, which were most copiously used,—by those who needed it, for cure, by those who did not, for prevention. Two sorts of creatures with which I formerly had little sympathy, I have learned to appreciate and respect,—donkeys and people of color, Arabs and Nubians especially. All idea of anything disagreeable or inferior in color of skin disappeared, or rather the darker fellows seemed the finer. As I remember sundry dark Arabs, they seem to me among the best-looking and best-behaved men I ever knew. But this digression will never do.... At sunset reached Edfou.
February 15.—Whole day at the temple, which is all but entire, and large as well as complete, and the acres of sculpture and hieroglyph in excellent preservation, all recently excavated under the care of Mariette and placed under a custodian. If I could be dropped down in Egypt for one morning only, to see only one thing, it should be this temple at Edfou, though only of Ptolemaic date. I cannot stop for a single detail about it....
February 22.—Luxor: across river, tombs, Medinet el Bahree, Ramaseum, again, etc. I and some others dined in the evening on boat with our English friends (Legge, Eaton, and Baird), and celebrated Washington’s Birthday.
February 23.—Boats dropped down to Karnak, had afternoon at the great temple, tea there at dusk,—a famous tea-party in the great hall of columns, all the dignitaries at Luxor and Karnak invited; the full moonlight enjoyed for an hour or two, and then illumination with Bengal lights, making splendid effects among the 137 columns, and other parts; then rockets; some of our parties back to boat, the rest to a feast given by a splendid old Arab, the chief of Karnak, in full Arab style, with music, dancing-women, and all. Imaun Joseph, who had been our guest at the temple tea, was his relative’s guest at this banquet. Lady Duff-Gordon’s account of him had made him known to us most favorably, and we got most thoroughly attached to the man, especially after having him to dine with us next day, his smile, voice, and manners of the sweetest, and his character is every way lovely. He is as dark-skinned as most American negroes, but with very handsome features. All these experiences cannot be written, but could be talked over at large. That evening view of Karnak is the one I want to keep, so I did not go again; Mrs. G. did once more.
February 24.—Tombs of the kings; a grand but fatiguing day, most of the time in Belzoni’s, the finest and largest; most of us did two or three more. I came home over the mountains to get the fine view over the valley, etc....
March 4.—Siout: ascended the hill for the great view, from mouth of one of the great old tombs; shopped in the pretty town; accepted the American consul’s great attentions for the morning only (rich Coptic Christian family), but tore ourselves away from entreaties to stay for dinner and fantasia in the evening, in honor of the inauguration of the American President, so secured the good wind and were off in the afternoon....
March 9.—Went over the site of Memphis; saw the colossal figure of Rameses lying pathetically on his face, pyramids of Sakkara, Serapeum, the wonderful Apis sarcophagi, and finally that newly excavated, beautiful tomb structure, of date very early in old empire (fourth or fifth dynasty), with paintings and low reliefs with truthfulness, spirit, taste, and fineness of execution, much surpassing the best days of the later empire, and all free of the grotesque mythology of later times. A fine treat to come at the last.