ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASSOUAN
Native musician performing on the Balipsa, one of the earliest Egyptian wind-instruments.
On the Outskirts of Assouan
Revolving these matters we marched on, stopping at the end of five hours for luncheon and a siesta. Here the doolahs resorted to a curious trick for, by wriggling their bodies, they wormed their way into the sand and completely disappeared save for an occasional toe, elbow or kneecap which lay, oddly detached, on the burning floor. In this way they escaped the direct rays of the deadly sun. Three hours later the march was resumed.
Not long after I ordered a halt. We had reached a point as near as I wished to go to the object of my search, for it was a part of my plan to make the actual discovery alone. Much as I respected the two men who were with me I was too old a bird to ignore the fact that practically every great discovery is marred by an attempt to divide the credit. In matters of this sort it is best to be alone.
Camp for the night being established I quietly strolled off by myself. The sun still hung well above the horizon and I estimated that I had fully two hours of daylight, though I took an electric flashlight as an extra precaution. The character of the surrounding country was peculiar in the extreme, consisting of thousands of small dome-like hills like bee-hives, each so like the other that my sense of orientation was instantly lost. Not over a half a mile from camp I looked for our party and realized with a start that I was searching in exactly the opposite direction from the right one.
“Careful!” I thought, studying my compass: “this is dangerous country to travel in.”
In a few moments the camp had disappeared. Proceeding with the greatest care and constantly consulting both my papers and my compass I steered as straight a course as possible between the soft hillocks. An evening wind was rising and I noticed that its slightest breath was sufficient to ripple the hill-sides like shaken silk. In a stronger blast the mounds must actually move. Not without a sense of disquiet I observed that the landscape back of me had already changed slightly—or did it only seem so?