In another drawing Thi is seen in a boat made of reeds, superintending a hippopotamus hunt. One of his men has succeeded in getting a rope round the neck of one savage-looking beast, and is preparing to despatch him with a long club. The river is full of fish, and one of the hippopotami has just seized a little crocodile between his enormous jaws. In another picture a crocodile hunt is represented, whilst in one drawing we see an angler who is evidently out for a day’s sport in one of the small reed boats. He is in the act of drawing a fish out of the water, and by his side he has loaves of bread, a cup, and a bottle.
Nowhere is depicted a scene of battle or warlike display, everything speaks of rural and domestic life.
But we do not see the great men of Pharaoh’s court only in the scenes and amusements of life. Funeral rites are also represented. The body is seen embalmed and carried to its last resting-place; funeral gifts are offered in rich abundance. No obligation was more sacred than that of bringing funeral oblations and offering prayer for the departed parent or friend. Inscriptions over the tombs called even on the passer-by to stay a while and offer up the customary invocation. The form of this invocation varied from age to age, but the main burden of its petitions was that Osiris would ‘grant the funeral oblations of all good things; that the departed one might not be repulsed at the entrance of the unseen world, but might be glorified amongst the blessed ones in presence of the Good Being, that he (or she) might breathe the delicious breezes of the north wind, and drink from the depth of the river.’
It was customary to build a chamber at the entrance to the tomb, in which the family and friends of the departed assembled from time to time to offer oblations and prayers, and to realise the actual presence of those who were gone. The walls of these rooms were covered with pictured and sculptured scenes taken from the varied scenes of daily life. They were adorned ‘as for a home of pleasure and joy’—no thought of gloom is even suggested.
The names given to the pyramids by their royal builders are very striking in this respect. Amongst them we find the ‘Abode of Life,’ the ‘Refreshing Place,’ the ‘Good Rising,’ the ‘Most Holy,’ ‘Most Lovely,’ or ‘Most Abiding Place,’ the ‘Rising of the Soul.’
The earliest of the pyramids were unsculptured and unadorned within, so there was attached to each of them a small sanctuary or memorial chapel; the office of ‘priest of the royal pyramid’ being held in high estimation and conferred on the most illustrious men of the day.
During their lifetime the Pharaohs were regarded by their people as representatives of the gods, or even as emanations from the Divine Being. After their death their memory was preserved and sacred rites were performed by the priests attached to their respective pyramids. Down to the latest days of the Empire, and even in the reign of the Ptolemies (three or four thousand years after they had been laid to rest ‘each within his own house’), priests were still officiating in memory of Khufu, Khafra, or Senefru—the far-famed pyramid builders.
For whilst the names of some amongst the later Pharaohs are emblazoned on the page of history as conquerors of high renown, who founded an Egyptian empire and gathered in rich and varied tribute from many subject races—those ancient monarchs are known and will ever be remembered as the kings ‘who built the pyramids.’