"Gooley, when I was a boy they pronounced that word colossal."
"Mr. Bayne, I don't care what they called it when you were a boy; I call it cool-o-sall', and that goes on the Nile. What's been good enough for King Edward you will have to put up with."
The crowd laughed and I subsided—for awhile. Afterward I caught Gooley on his dates, but he again called me down:
"Mr. Bayne, if you think you can do this thing better than I can, why, get up here and try it!"
And so we rattled along from one gibe to another till we mounted our donkeys, rode out from the temples and started for the steamer. As we came away we passed Mr. Morgan, who had chosen the cool of the evening for his visit, even though the light was not so good.
There is an art in horse-racing known as the "hand ride," perfected by Todd Sloan—i.e., swinging the hands from side to side and thus rolling the bit to excite the animal. I tried it on my donkey and as he had never experienced it before, it excited him so much that he started out with a rush that threw me over his head before we had gone ten yards. I was somewhat crestfallen, but remounted, and took "an humbler flight" for the rest of the journey.
OUR OWN NILE DONKEY, "BALLY-HOO-BEY." KNEW HIS BUSINESS LIKE A BOOK, BUT OBJECTED TO THE TOD SLOAN RIDE (SPOKEN OF IN THE TEXT)—A WILD WEST EFFORT IN THE FAR EAST. ALI BABA, JR., IN THE SADDLE
Next day we started down the Nile, stopping at many places, but as they did not compare in interest or importance with Luxor, Karnak or Thebes, I shall not try to describe them. The season was closing, the river had fallen six feet while we were coming down stream, and the Nile was now so low that we frequently stuck on the shifting sand-bars. As the pilots could not see the channels in the dark, we tied up at some town on the banks every night and consequently made slow time. After dinner the shopkeepers brought down their wares, spread sheets on the ground and opened up for business by torchlight and the light furnished by the steamer. The "Corks" were active buyers for home consumption, and after a violent passage of arms usually got what they wanted at a discount of ninety per cent. from the first offer. If there is anything on earth that these towns did not bring down to us, I want to see it!—from monkeys to tame snakes in the line of living things, and from lion skins to mummies in the dead. The natives were not allowed on board, and as there was great jostling on shore, the "Corks" stood on the deck and the articles for sale were rolled in bundles and fired at them for inspection, the owners giving the price in piastres by signs on their fingers. After a native made a sale, his fellows took him by the throat and ran him to the back of the dock. He had been successful and they would not allow him to compete again that evening. Toward the end, some "Corks" would risk it and mix with the crowd on shore, but their clothes were literally torn off them in a few moments, which caused an immediate retreat. The natives were so excited and each so persistent in his efforts to get more than his share of the trade, that they frequently pushed one another into the Nile, wetting themselves and their wares, much to the amusement of the onlookers. But high above this rude brawling the scarab stood alone. When a fresh bag of them was opened, a blight fell on all other wares. Bargaining in them, indeed, was regarded as a kind of sacred function, as it was believed we were dealing in the jewels and mascots of the deadest people in all history. No greater investment could possibly be made than to float a corporation and start a factory in Connecticut for their manufacture and distribution, for it is but the few who may own the genuine—there aren't enough to go round. None of the manufactured product need be offered in America; they can all be absorbed on the Nile. One man shouted with glee, as he waved a small bag of them in the air: