"Laydies en genteelmen, ef you plaze: my family has been story-tellers on the Nile for many generations, and ef you plaze I shall tell you some Arabian Nights tales."
With many gestures and admirable poise he told his stories between the courses; the "Corks" laughed, but the laughter had an apologetic ring that did not speak well for its sincerity. The truth is, the men were afraid to laugh in the presence of the ladies, as the stories were full flavored and spicy; but still, no one fainted. I may say that during our voyage Gooley repeated this performance at each dinner and changed his costume on every occasion, always coming out with some little pleasing surprise, such as a silver ornament stuck through the top of his ear (where there was a hole for it). Some of the Arab stewards also wore these, but none was so grand as Gooley's.
Dinner over, we sat out on deck in comfort, as the sun had set and the flies had quit for the day. Beside us was anchored J. P. Morgan's dahabiyeh, Mr. Morgan and his party dining on board. He had been up the river and was coming down in easy stages, landing at the various points of interest.
Next morning we mounted donkeys, and with Gooley Can leading we started for Karnak. It was a funny experience, as some of us had never ridden a donkey, and many had not been on horseback for years. We were a weird looking crew, with our heads in net bags and using our fly-whips like flails. Each donkey has a "boy" (half of them are men), who prods and whips his charge, but without any cruelty, as the riders would not allow it. These boys are full of tricks: when I alighted squarely on the ground, one of them had edged up to me and he set up a loud howl, claiming I had lit on his toes and had broken two of them. I had seen the trick played before, and noticing an Englishman near with a heavy whip I reached for it and made the "boy" really suffer. His friends laughed at his failure, and before long he joined in the merriment at his own expense. He had asked me for three dollars damages, equal to a dollar and a half a toe. On comparing notes in the evening we found that three passengers had parted with bakshish on similar claims.
We now entered the largest ruin in the world, the Temple of Karnak, a monument of unparalleled grandeur, whose vast proportions overpower the imagination. The temples at Karnak and Luxor are connected by an avenue six thousand five hundred feet long, with a width of eighty feet, on each side of which are ranged a row of sphinxes. To describe these wonders in detail would require weeks, as will be understood when it is explained that one place, called the "Hall of Columns," alone contains a vast forest of pillars arranged in groups running from thirty-five to sixty feet high and each having a circumference of twenty-seven feet, all highly carved and ornamented. Another object of interest, the First Pylon or Corner Tower, is three hundred and seventy-five feet wide and a hundred and forty-two feet high. Many kings and rulers had a hand in the construction of these great buildings, and it took fifteen centuries to complete them, but one character stands out above all other men and things as a builder of these ruins and the king-pin of Egypt—
Rameses II.
Rameses II. was the greatest advertiser of any age or time. He erected rows of colossal statues to himself all over Egypt, and for fear some one would not notice a single figure, he would place half a dozen side by side. He was usually represented in his Sunday clothes, with a pleasing smile, and a granite goatee on his chin as big as a narrow-gauge freight car. (See photograph.) "Ram" was the most celebrated of the Pharaohs; he reigned seventy years, and was over a hundred years old when he died. As a young man he won a real battle, and he spent the rest of his life singing about it through paid, professional poets. He had one hundred and eleven sons and fifty-nine daughters. (That was going some!) However, suspicious hieroglyphics have been found that go to show that Ram was chased in many battles, and that one barbarian had the audacity to tin-can him into the neighboring desert, from which he did not return for many moons. Kadesh was his Thermopylae, and the Khetas compelled him to recognize their independence at the treaty of Tanis. This made the old man sick, as he was not accustomed to taking "second money." They had no "germans" in those days, but Ram is shown in one of the alto-rilievos in his temple nimbly leading the cake-walk, leaning as far back as ever Dixey did when exploiting that dance. In the matter of carving, Ward McAllister couldn't hold a candle to him: he used no knife nor fork, but slashed his Christmas turkey in pieces with his dirk, ate it and called for the next course. His wife never got any of the white meat—the drum-sticks were good enough for her. He was more than a two-bottle man: this is made plain in the reliefs by the number of "empties" that are stacked upon his table, and also by the fact that he built and stocked a celebrated wine cellar at Thebes, his best vintage being "1333 B.C."
