"We are priest's daughters," she answered; "and from our father we derive all our knowledge."
"Can you, then," I asked, "explain to me one thing that has been alluded to in our conversation? I am desirous of knowing something about the phœnix, which I see even now represented, inlaid in ivory, upon this table of vases."
"I fear that I shall not be able, prince, to make you understand, what, I confess, I am not well informed upon. The phœnix has always been a mystery to me."
"I understand the bird," said Osiria, "to be the symbol of a star. But I have never fully comprehended it. I have doubts if there be such an extraordinary bird. Will you, father, gratify us and the Prince of Tyre at the same time?"
The kind and courteous hierarch, before replying, laid down a beautiful fishing-rod which he was arranging—it being a favorite pastime of his leisure to sit in the pavilion before his windows, and amuse himself by fishing in the oval lake that fills one of the areas of his palace, and around which runs a columnar arcade, in whose cool shade we take our walks for exercise in the heat of the day. And this amusement, my dear mother, is not only a favorite one with him, but with all Egyptian gentlemen; who also delight in hunting the gazelle and other animals—keeping for the purpose leashes of trained dogs, some of them very beautiful, and as swift as the winds. They are singularly fond of having dogs accompany them in their walks, and adorn them with gold or silver collars. The ladies also have pet dogs, chosen either for their beauty, or—odd distinction—for their peculiar ugliness. Luxora boasts a little dog, of the rare and admired Osirtasen breed, which is as beautiful and symmetrical as a gazelle, with soft, expressive eyes, and graceful movements; while Osiria prides herself on a pet animal, the ugliness of which, as it seems to me, is its only recommendation. Remeses has a noble, lion-like dog, that he admits into his private sitting-room, and has for his attendant at all times when he walks abroad. Nearly every lord has his hounds; and to own a handsome dog is as much a mark of rank, as is the slender acacia cane.
"The phœnix, according to the ancients," said the priest, "is a bird of which there exists but one specimen in the world. It comes flying from the east once in the course of six hundred and fifty-one years, many other birds with dazzling wings bearing it company. It reaches the City of the Sun about the time of the vernal equinox, where it burns itself upon the roof of the temple, in the fire of the concentrated rays of the sun, as they are reflected from the golden shield thereon with consuming radiance. No sooner is it consumed to ashes, than an egg appears in the funeral pyre, which the heat that consumed the parent warms instantly into life, and out of it the same phœnix comes forth, in full plumage, and spreading its wings it flies away again, to return no more until the expiration of six hundred and fifty-one years!"
"This is a very extraordinary story," I said.
"It is," answered the high-priest; "yet it has a simple explanation."
"I should be gratified to hear it," I answered.
"Do you believe, dear father," asked Osiria, "there ever was such a bird?"