"Half of them belong to the priests."
The prince shook his head sadly, and was silent.
From the summit they went down by a naked and stony slope to the opposite base of the hill. Then Tutmosis, who had pushed ahead somewhat, cried,
"Has a charm fallen on my eyes? Look, Ramses! Why, a second Egypt is concealed between these cliffs!"
"That must be an estate of some priest who pays no taxes," replied the prince, bitterly.
In the depth before their feet lay a rich valley in the form of a fork the tines of which were hidden between cliffs. At the juncture of the tines a number of servants' huts were visible, and the beautiful little villa of the owner or manager. Palmtrees grew there, grapes, olives, figs with aerial roots, cypresses, even young baobabs. In the centre flowed a rivulet, and at the source of it, some hundreds of yards higher up, small gardens were visible.
When they had gone down among grapevines covered with ripe clusters, they heard a woman's voice which called, or rather sang in pensive notes:
"Where art Thou gone from me, where art thou, hen of mine? Thou hast fled, Thou art gone from me. I give thee drink and clean grain; what I give is so good that slaves envy thee. Where art Thou gone, my hen wilt Thou not answer me? Night will come down on thee, think of that; Thou wilt not reach thy home, where all are at work for thee. Come; if Thou come not, a falcon will fly from the desert and tear the heart out of thee. If he come Thou wilt call in vain, as I now call in vain to thee. Give answer, or I shall be angry and leave this place. If I leave Thou 'It go home on thy own feet."
The song came toward the two men. The songstress was a few yards from them when Tutmosis thrust, his head from between the bushes, and said,
"Just look, Ramses, but that is a beautiful maiden!"