Anyhow we reached Cairo at last, where we were joined by Lady Galloway, who had been staying with Lord and Lady Cromer at the Agency, and we joined our dahabyah—a very comfortable one—at Gingeh on February 4th. As we had a steam-tug attached, we were happily independent of wind and current, and could stop when we pleased—no small consideration. We realised this when, reaching Luxor three days later, we met with friends who had been toiling upstream for a month, unable to visit any antiquities on the way, as whenever they wanted to do so the wind, or other phenomena, became favourable to progress. I ought not to omit having met Nubar Pasha, the Egyptian statesman, at Cairo, a dear old man, with a high esteem for the English, who, he said, had a great respect for themselves, and for public opinion. At first sight those two sentiments seem not altogether compatible, but on thinking over his remark one perceives how they balance each other.
At El Ballianeh, another stopping-place on our voyage to Luxor, we found the town decorated in honour of the Khedive’s lately married sister, who was making an expedition up the Nile. Her husband, having modern tendencies, was anxious that she should ride like the English ladies, and had ordered a riding-habit for her, but only one boot, as he only saw one of the Englishwomen’s feet. Had he lived in the present year of grace his vision would not have been so limited.
Near Karnak, E. F. Benson and his sister were busy excavating the Temple of Mant. Miss Benson had a concession and excavated many treasures, while her brother no doubt drew out of the desert his inspiration for The Image in the Sand, published some years later.
In pre-war days we used to say that the Nile was like Piccadilly and Luxor resembled the Bachelors’ Club, so many friends and acquaintances passed up and down the river, but on this particular voyage the aspect which most impressed my husband and myself was the dominating influence of the Sirdar, Lord Kitchener. We only saw him personally for a few minutes, as he was with his staff on a tour of inspection, but wherever we met officers of any description there was an alertness, and a constant reference to “The Sirdar!” “The Sirdar has ordered,” “The Sirdar wishes.” A state of tension was quite evident, and soon proved to be justified.
No one quite knew when and where the Mahdi would attack, everybody was on the look-out for hidden Dervishes. At Assouan we had luncheon with the officers stationed there, Major Jackson (now Sir Herbert) and others, who were most hospitable and amusing. I must confess that though they were more than ready for the Dervishes, they were specially hot against the French. Of course at that time the feeling on both sides was very bitter; it was long before the days of the entente, and any French officer who made friends with an Englishman had a very bad mark put against his name by his superiors.
Either at Assouan or Philæ, where Captain Lyons entertained us, we heard a comical story of a tall Englishman in a café at Cairo. He was alone, and three or four French officers who were sitting at a little table began to make insulting remarks about the English. This man kept silent until one of them put out his foot as he passed, plainly intending to trip him up. Thereupon he seized his assailant and used him as a kind of cudgel or flail wherewith to belabour his companions. Naturally the others jumped up and attacked in their turn, and the Englishman, outnumbered, must have had the worst of it had not the girl behind the counter suddenly taken his part and aimed a well-directed shower of empty bottles at the Frenchmen, who thereupon found discretion the better part of valour and retreated.
ESCAPE OF SLATIN PASHA
Major Jackson gave us a graphic account of the arrival of Slatin Pasha after his escape from Omdurman after eleven years’ captivity. He said that a dirty little Arab merchant arrived at his quarters claiming to be Slatin Pasha. He knew that Slatin had been prisoner, but did not know of his escape, and felt doubtful of his identity. “However,” said he, “I put him into a bedroom and gave him some clothes and a cake of Sunlight Soap, and there came out a neat little Austrian gentleman.” I have always thought what a large bakshish Major Jackson might have received from the proprietor of Sunlight Soap had he given them that tale for publication. I believe that Major Burnaby had £100 for mentioning the effect of Cockle’s Pills on some native chief in his Ride to Khiva. However, Slatin managed to convince his hosts that he was himself, despite that he had almost forgotten European customs and languages during his long slavery. At Assouan we were obliged to abandon our nice dahabyah and transfer ourselves to a shaky and hot stern-wheeler called the Tanjore, as the large dahabyah could not travel above the First Cataract and we wanted to go to Wady Halfa. There was some doubt as to whether we could go at all, and the stern-wheeler had to form one of a fleet of four which were bound to keep together and each to carry an escort of six or seven Soudanese soldiers for protection. What would have happened had a strong force of dervishes attacked us I do not know, but fortunately we were unmolested. Of the other three stern-wheelers one was taken by the Bradley Martins, Cravens, and Mrs. Sherman, and the other two were public.
We had an object-lesson on the advantages of a reputation for being unamiable. On board one of the public stern-wheelers was a certain F. R., author and journalist, with his wife and daughter. Jersey overheard Cook’s representative giving special injunctions to the agent in charge of this boat to keep F. R. in good humour, as he might make himself very disagreeable. Whether he did anything to damage the firm I know not, but I know that he bored his fellow-passengers so much that on the return journey they either transferred themselves to the fourth boat or waited for another, anything rather than travel back with the R.’s. So the R.’s secured a whole stern-wheeler to themselves.
I have carefully refrained from any description of the well-known temples and tombs, which record the past glories of the cities of the Nile, but I must say a word of the wonderful rock temple of Rameses II at Abu Simbal, close on the river banks. We saw it by moonlight, which added much to the effect of the great pylon cut in the rock with its four sitting figures of the king, each 66 feet high. Small figures stand by the knees of the colossi, who look solemnly out over the river unmoved by the passing centuries. Inside the rock is a large corridor with eight great Osiride figures guarding its columns, and within are smaller chambers with sculptured walls.