The Ramhadin, or season of fasting, by the Moslems, continues one month, and during that time they neither taste nor smell food or tobacco between sunrise and sunset. After this vile durance, we were told, their appetites can scarcely be appeased, nor their tempers curbed.
The weddings in December and January are in rule and, by applying for an invitation, your dragoman as a great favor to his lady, can and will obtain one or more, for which you must compensate him, besides defraying all expenses, and giving flowers and presents. You must expect but little less expenditure than at our own weddings in our own country, and but little to repay you. On the evening of the 24th of December (1895), Christmas trees were on exhibition at the hotel for the benefit of the guests; the ladies only received presents. The room was most brilliant with electric lights and three large trees most artistically decorated with bright balls, cornucopias and trinkets. A card was given each lady and the number thereon drew a prize. My first was a box of candy and a small toilet article. Not eating candy, I presented both articles and asked Mr. Bailey, our host, for another chance, which drew me a white satin sofa cushion cover. For a time we almost forgot we were so far from home. There were so many familiar faces gathered around those trees, besides no limit to others who believed that the "Coming of Christ" meant good gifts to men. The 30th of December my brother and his family left me to return to America. I was over-persuaded to go up the Nile, a trip I most reluctantly made. As I felt the depression of the Egyptian atmosphere, added to my depressed condition from the medicine taken (prescribed by a missionary doctor on board the steamer "Pekin") throughout my Indian journey that I was unfit to travel any longer—and I had no desire to die so far from home—the pressure against my own judgment outweighed in the balance, and I left Cairo on the steamer "Ramises III" at 9:15 o'clock A. M. December 31st, 1895. The room assigned to me by Thomas Cook & Co. was No. 63, on the upper deck. I had no room mate, much to my joy. This was my "mascot" from the time I boarded the steamer at Vancouver—with but one exception, and that was on the steamer "Pekin" from Columbo to Calcutta where I had a dear old lady from Australia (Mrs. Champion) share my cabin. We had seventy first-class passengers. Among them were Mrs. John A. Logan, Dr. B., of Brooklyn, Miss Paul, Miss Koon and Miss Dousman, Mr. and Mrs. George Hale and his sister, Mrs. Mathews, Conan Doyle, wife and sister, and from England we had the knighted organist of Westminster Abbey and Lady Campbell and daughter, while others I could mention to whom I became attached were Mrs. Allis and daughter, of Milwaukee, and Mrs. Wilbur and daughter, from Flatbush, Long Island. I must not fail to speak of Mr. Osterburg, the Swedish consul in Cairo, who made himself most agreeable. Our dragomen were Richard and Claudius, the former a Syrian, the latter I saw less of, but some of the passengers, who became interested in him, visited in person his little wife, about fourteen years old, who had a mud hut in the vicinity of one of the stopping places on the Nile.
After lunch was served on our first day out we made our first landing at Bedrashead, site of Memphis and Sakkarah, where we saw the colossal statue of Ramises II, lying prostrate, in readiness to be transferred to some less favored spot. I had a fine mount, and Richard stuck close to "my lady" (you must remember that much respect is paid to the aged in the Orient). The temple of Ptah, the step pyramid, pyramid of Teta, pyramid of Pepi 1st, and the Ape's Mausoleum, were shown us. This last was most interesting. Magnesium lights of the guides enabled us to distinguish in these dark, subterranean passages, where 3,700 years ago, naked foot-prints left on layers of sand, placed in the corners of these mortuary chambers, testify to a primitive appearance. Here people made superhuman effort to hide their burial places for all ages to come, to prevent rude hands from pulling their bones apart until, according to their religion, their souls would again return to their well preserved bodies—to enjoy Nirvana.
We saw the tomb of "Thi," Necropolis of Saharah; also Marrek's house. To the latter is due much credit for his perseverance in unearthing and protecting the contents of these buried ruins. My first donkey ride was a success, not that I enjoyed it, but owing to a most considerate donkey boy, who walked at the side of the beast (instead of the rear) and allowed me to hold in my left hand the reins and my right arm around his swarthy neck. Thus, I took all those excursions on the Nile without an accident, till I gave myself the title of "the lady of a fond embrace," while others, more daring and perhaps more dainty of touch, were more than once thrown over the donkey's head, suffering from bruises that took more than a day to heal. Immediately on reaching the steamer, at 4:30 p. m., tea was served on deck. I was more than weary and so sore I could scarcely taste of my dinner, but, thanks to a kind Providence, I was by morning on deck, but that day we made no excursions. The following day we landed at Beni-Hassan, visiting the Rock Tombs, consisting of chambers, shaft and corridors, where the mummies were once placed, but now all are swept and garnished. All that remains to tell the tale, are the writings and sculpturing on the walls. The scribe has taken precaution that he who runs may read. The series of bas-reliefs is a biography in stone with illustrations. The entire life of a man is written there. I must quote from a writer a few lines that have impressed me: "It is said that man's head becomes smaller every day, his muscle and chest enlarged; animal strength develops at the expense of the brain, which diminishes in proportion. The law of the strongest is the law of human species, one-half of which is seeking to destroy the other." These scenes depicted on the crumbling ruins, enriched by color, are strikingly realistic, built partly during the life time, and often after the death of the person. These give the best possible insight into the life of the Egyptians of that period. From past ages to the present hour are men building their own monuments, immortalizing, if possible, their virtues. How well the foundation should be laid, that the principles, overlapping each other, may make a fitting example for future generations.
There are no new cities built of any magnitude; the new would only depopulate the old. From Memphis, reduced to a state of quarry, is built Alexandria; from Heliopolis we have Cairo. In passing the limestone cliffs we experience cold and wind; the mummied crocodile pits we pass, and stop at Aizril. Peddlers besiege the vessel, and the vociferating yell was kept up until long after 10:00 p. m., the hour when all lights in the cabin are shut off. At Aizul, we buy Nubian veils, which are made by embroideries in gold stars on black and white heavy netting, and are most becoming when worn by Nubian women. Soudanese embroidery is thrust upon us, but to all we turn a deaf ear and again mount donkeys to visit the bazaars. It was market day; the roads dusty; long lines of camels with their undulating necks and inhuman cry, impeded our way and shocked our nerves. What vagueness in the stare of a camel; what great, sad eyes; walking slowly with their heavy burdens, urged on by the voice and gesture of sober-looking Bedouins, perched upon the beast. Women with ravaged features and with soiled garments pass us, with babies seated astride of their shoulders; little girls clutching their gowns, with leather or silver amulets on their neck or suspended between their eyes; the flowing chemise, of crude colors, mostly blue, their heads bound in a turban of muslin, their black tresses flying in the wind. The arms of these children of the desert are encircled in bracelets, some of which we purchased with a few annas. They are gilded and tarnished, perhaps from lack of usage. A sad smile seems to lurk on their faces, casting a gleam in their dark eyes, and they will follow for a great distance your donkey, offering you their poor, little, ragged dolls for a backsheesh; the very touch of them would be pollution. You cannot resist, if an anna is within reach, of throwing it to them and receiving in return a glimpse of their pearly teeth between their red lips in their attempts at a smile. The Arab men, wrapped in their burnoose, look on mechanically, turning their rosewood beads in their hands. Their yellow dogs, with pointed muzzles, prowl around restlessly, as if they would cry out with joy if a bone was thrown them. On passing through the bazaars I spied a Nubian veil, and to inspect it within a doorway, I was obliged to dismount; not being satisfied with work or quality, I attempted to remount, with the assistance of my diminutive donkey boy, but alas, we were not equal to the feat; when, from a distance, came a red coat, an English soldier, who threw me on the saddle and demanded a backsheesh. Is begging contagious, or is their need so great? Over the tranquil scenes creep the cold shadows of night, with their unhealthy, impenetrable gloom; lights of the steamer are extinguished; the water shadoufs, with lean bullocks for their motive power, with hanging fetlocks, conducted by a little fellahin, gave a sharp, hollow, grinding sound as the brake wheels were made to revolve. These brake wheels set others in motion, which in their turn start still others at the extremity of the spokes on the water circles, where jars of baked clay were fastened with cords made of palm fiber. The latter, in their constant rotation, scooped up water, pouring it into basins, from which ran gutters, dug at right angles in the earth, and spread like silver threads through this thirsty land. These shadoufs are placed at intervals along the Nile and from its beneficent waters the desert is made to bloom as the rose.
The early mornings are bright, but cold. As we proceed up the Nile the noonday sun feels uncomfortable, but invariably the nights are cold. Then it is that the awnings are closely drawn around the upper deck, where a piano, tables and chairs are placed for the pleasure and convenience of the guests, while flags of different nations brighten and enliven the scene, festooned on the canvas that wraps us in from the prevailing miasma. An evening on the Nile steamer may not be irksome, although our steamer ties up at nightfall. The lack of motion is made up by music and dancing and pleasant intercourse. A few moments after dinner I would retire to the saloon or library room, where pens and paper were provided for the guests. There I would jot down in my journal my transactions of the day and write home if we were within postal quarters. We never made excursions on the Sabbath day; our trips were so arranged by Cook, who had our boat under his rules, that all who cared for rest might enjoy it. We disembarked at Dendarah, where we spent two hours in the early morning. As we recall these days on the Nile, with Richard in his Oriental robes of lovely colors, fully conscious of his good looks, taking his position between the extended tables of the dining room at the close of the meal and there make known the plan for the next day's excursion. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" was generally followed by an audible smile, the guests knowing full well what was to follow—breakfast at the early hour of seven, a ride from five to fifteen miles either by donkey or chair, with a set speech when we arrived at tombs or temples; but we had come to see, why not muster up courage for still another prolonged agony? I found books in the library, most entertaining when off duty, by Mrs. Edwards and Charles Dudley Warner, together with the book furnished by Cook to each purchaser of a passage ticket. This attempt to post up on what I saw, and what was yet in store for me, precluded much sociability, of which I am fully aware with such pleasant people as we had on board, was my loss. I denied myself much, but I was unable to cope with both to any great extent, but I shall long recall with pleasure the few hours I gave myself in this delightful recreation.
Our arrival at Luxor by sunset was well timed. The beautiful rays of the departing god seemed to throw over all the surroundings a halo. We knew an early breakfast meant early to bed, which command I was not slow in obeying. At 9:00 a. m. we took donkeys for Karnak, passing through the village on a market day, where each man squatted before his salable articles spread upon the ground under the shade of some umbrageous tree. Through a long road, lined at intervals, were the remains of the Sphinx, of which we have so often read. The ruins are most imposing, excavations were still being made. The Nile's inundations are fast making inroads, undermining the foundations, especially at Luxor, which temple is located so near the bank. We linger and gaze on the stupendous work, even in its crumbling, tottering condition it is one of the wonders of the age. We find the Scarabaeus are bought here to an advantage. The Arabs, however, have no scruples in selling false beetles for the genuine ones that are sometimes taken from the tombs in excavating. They are becoming more and more rare. Mummies, so diminutive, made of metal or plaster, Stela, a small column, having neither base or capital, which are sold as the genuine antique, is manufactured almost within sight. One of the amusing scenes on shipboard is to see purchasers comparing these articles; their ignorance of their value is laughable. The beetle, or Scarabaeus, is a symbol with this ancient people of "eternal duration." We are told it lays its eggs near the shores of the Nile, afterwards to roll them through the dust and sand to a safe place of deposit, thus providing for a perpetuation of their species. I am not an admirer of the beetle, consequently bought no reminders of the bug. I did buy here a string of red cornelian beads, not for their value but as good specimens. The trip to the tombs of the kings, most laborious of all, I declined to take. I did not feel I was able, but by remaining alone on board of the steamer was like choosing between two evils. The days when the vessel is deserted the crew go through a systematic house cleaning process. Truly, there is not a dry place for the sole of your foot. My only safety was in bed, but even there intrusions were frequent. Like all Oriental workmen, they sway the body and keep time to the scrub brush and broom with their voices, in a monotonous wail of Allah! Allah! After some six to eight hours it grows a trifle irksome, as it is incessant, so that I quite resolved before the day was over that tombs were pleasant places to visit and donkeys delightful animals upon which to ride. When a half-hour's ride was suggested, the next day, to the temple of "Rameses the Great" and tomb known as "35," I did not remain on deck, but on the contrary wandered through the Judgment Hall of Osiris, and through the temple of Medinah Kaboo; also inspected a small temple of "Thotmas III," passing the "Colons" on our way to the small boats, to which we were carried through the water in the arms of natives. We lay at Luxor three days, leaving at 11:00 a. m. the fourth morning after our arrival. We stopped at Esneh, where another temple was on exhibition, and proceeded to Edfoo, where we tied up for the night. There we saw really a wonderful temple, fresh from the hands of the excavators. On the 12th of January we arrived at Assouan, at 4:00 p. m., and small boats were brought alongside the steamer for those who wished to visit the "Elephantine caves." Not to see it would have been just the thing you should not have missed. And again we buckled on the armor and struck out direct from the shoulder. The sail around the island was an agreeable pastime, but the Arabs clamoring for backsheesh and for the sale of their beads, were beyond human endurance. I felt almost murderous. I bought a few strings of beads, and for days, whenever I touched them, each one seemed to cry aloud: backsheesh! backsheesh! We went from Annan to Philae by train; and what a train! No provision whatever for the comfort of the traveler. If by chance a seat was given you, you were in luck; if none was secured, "you beat the bush" all the way through the desert sands. The distance is not great. In a half or three-quarters of an hour we are on the spot which artists have sought and many have longed for and died without the sight. We lunch in among the ruins, and are then led into the interior of the temple as it now stands, falling and fallen. Crowds of little Arab children offer their services as guides, and I recall, with a sense of pathetic pleasure, Mr. George Hale, with his crown of grey hair, being led by one of these little girls. "December and May"—old age and infancy. She was not over five years old, poorly clad, with her silver amulet on a leather string around her neck, and barefooted. In her hand she carried a Nile fly brush, with which she would gently attempt to brush off from Mr. Hale any invader, and in the same breath would whisk it with a vengeance in the face of any of her comrades who sought to take her charge from her. It was an amusing scene. Many purchase from these children their amulet. I could but wonder if they were punished on returning to their homes for having parted with their talisman, which are religiously placed upon them in childhood. We now return to our boats. We are to skirt the first cataract of the Nile. We are divided into groups, and small boats are provided for each party. With fear and trembling we embark, but confiding in the Arab pilot, who seldom fails in the work assigned him, we soon regain our equilibrium. To me it was not as perilous as the descent of Lachine Rapids, in the St. Lawrence River, nor more exciting. That everlasting wail of Allah! Allah! was kept up until we landed near our Rameses III, and until we had filled well the bag with piasters that was handed around. We were not able to disembark. As I hastened alone to the gang plank of our river home, I saw Mrs. John A. Logan, whose boat had preceded ours, with her head of crowning glory, stretched from the low window of her cabin and in her hand was the "Red, white and blue" unfurled to the Nile zephyrs. I thought of Barbara Frietchie, and exclaimed: "Take in your flag!" That night there was a jollification on board, for the day following we were to begin our descent of the Nile. We took on board many passengers who had gone up on the previous trip of the Rameses III, and gone beyond to the second and third cataract and had returned to Assuan for the downward trip. Among these were the widow of Major General Jed Baxter, of Washington, D. C., and also Mrs. Stroud, of Philadelphia. Mrs. Logan brought Mrs. Baxter to me, and introduced her. "Can this be my Mrs. Baxter?" I said, and she replied: "And this my Mrs. Hunt, of whom dear Senator Morrill has so often spoken?"
We were mutually bound together by one common friend, who had, by his praise, made us friends without ever having met before. We were no longer strangers. We stopped again at Luxor. There I had time, before the night shades gathered around us, to call at the hotel Luxor, where a gentleman with an attack of malarial fever had been transferred on our upward trip. His wife and daughter I had become much interested in. They were from the state of Maine, and we had mutual friends. They were glad to see me again, and were feeling most depressed in their isolation, but were buoyant with the hope that the husband and father would soon be able to be taken back to Cairo. They had been able to secure a trained nurse, and a good physician. I think Luxor is a military post. Many of the passengers improved the shining hours in revisiting the bazaars and by moonlight the gay, light-hearted and free among our young folks went again to see the ruins of Karnak. We bought many photographs here, which were most satisfactory. We next visited Keneh, where the jugs and gargoulets are made, for the Nile water. The factories are near by and many purchased these porous amphorae, hoping that in their own homes the water poured in them might come out as deliciously cool as did the water of the Nile.
We stop at Dirneh and Ballianah, but at Abydos we linger longer, where we take a seven-mile ride to the temple of Seti, finding on those sculptured walls much to admire. We lunched again in the ruins, and having no desire to eat, I fed through the iron-barred gate my share to the poor, wretched Arab children that swarmed around. I hate to recall these poor, down-trodden people. Is life worth living to them? What I declined to eat, they devoured with such voraciousness that it almost made me hungry. I am told Cook & Co. are regarded by these natives as a Godsend. He surely does much towards bringing them in touch with humanity. And now a day's rest is to follow this tiresome one, and until we reach Assouit we can rest without any rude alarms, which will be at least for twenty-four hours. Confusion, worse confounded, was the scene at the landing at Assouit. The wharf was piled high with parcels of merchandise, the owner of each crying in a deafening voice, the surpassing features of their commodities, pushing and pulling each other to establish their rights. We dare not pass through this motley crowd to mount our donkeys until our dragoman interfered, striking indiscriminately right and left with his stick, which too often fell upon their heads or backs. We did succeed in examining the rhinoceros canes, made of hides, which sold at $5.00 apiece, and of teak wood, which, we were told, were inclined to splinter. However, we took our chances. There were also embroidered portieres, and draperies, most elaborate Soudanese embroideries, specimens of which I gladly possessed myself. If the crowd is too threatening, you can barter from the steamer's deck. These Arabs are very dexterous; they bundle their goods, and with a grace we know not of, throw them up to the deck for inspection. Woe betide the unfortunate one who attempts to return the articles by the same process, if by mischance the precious bundle falls into the water. Sheiks rush in frenzy, and the noise from the crowd grows like the roar of a mighty cataract; and in one case of the kind, where the party was unlucky in his aim, he was compelled, for the peace of the passengers, to pay for the lost articles. I heard among the crowd on deck some one exclaim: "This is great fun!" Perhaps it is, but I failed to appreciate it.
At 4:00 p. m., the 19th of January, we landed in Cairo, a tired but a wiser crowd, and we are not yet through the wilderness. O, for a Moses! Why did he not survive the Deluge? Backsheesh from every one of that crew. Those who had brushed the dust or sand from your shoes or clothes as you flew by them at each landing place; those with shoo-fly or brushes, whom we had never encountered during the entire trip, were in line for a piaster, to say nothing of the big fees expected by the male attendants at table and in your cabin. But greatest of all were the expectations of the dragomen, who were most sullen if anything less than one or two pound note or gold piece was offered them. It is safe to say to go under "Thomas A. Cook & Co.'s auspices up the Nile," you cannot get off without paying at least three hundred dollars for a three-weeks' excursion. Already, competing companies at reduced prices are manifesting themselves, and I heard with perfect satisfaction to their patrons, but the Sheiks, they say, are bought up by the "Cook's." How much of this is Nile gossip, I did not attempt to fathom. I had made the trip; never missed but one excursion, and still being in the body, gave thanks that it was finished.