CHAPTER XXXIV—THE LAND OF PHARAOH.—THROUGH THE EGYPTIAN DESERT.
In Sight of Egypt—A light-house looming through the fog—On the soil of the Pharaohs—An invasion of boatmen—Scenes in the streets of Port Said—Encore de “Backsheesh”—The great Suez canal—Negotiations with a cobbler—A ludicrous situation—A bootless customer—Egyptian jugglers—Going through the Market—A disagreeable spectacle—A pocket steamer—Drinking to absent friends—On the “.raging canawl”—Sleeping on deck—A sunrise in the desert—On the summit of the Isthmus—An onslaught by Arab-baggage-smashers.
THERE it is! There is the light-house!”
Half a dozen of us looked in the direction indicated, and saw a tall column that rose apparently out of the sea, as the fog and distance did not reveal the low coast of Egypt, nor the long jetty that has been thrown out to form a harbor.
The steamer moved steadily onward, and in a little while there was a fringe of houses, and then a fringe of masts, then a long line, lighter than the sea in its color, swept away on either hand to mark the coast. In its center appeared the jetties, that form the outer harbor of Port Said. A small steamer came out to meet us, and from her a pilot came on board, to direct us between the jetties and into the inner harbor.
These jetties, or moles, are of artificial stone, two-thirds sand, and one-third hydraulic lime, mixed in a frame and allowed to harden. Each block weighs twenty-two tons, and contains about three hundred and twenty-four cubic feet. The blocks are not piled regularly to form a well built wall, but are dropped in, hig-gedly-piggedly, like a lot of bricks dumped from a cart. This has been found to be the best form of sea wall, as it breaks the force of the waves more completely than would a structure with a smooth front. The sand has settled in and filled up the cavities below the water line; at first it silted through, but an occasional use of the dredge kept the harbor in proper condition.
The lighthouse is a magnificent structure of concrete, one hundred and sixty feet high, supporting a lantern twenty feet high, and flashing every three seconds with such intensity, as to be visible twenty miles. Three other lighthouses of similar construction have been placed in the interval—one hundred and twenty-five miles—between Port Said and Alexandria.
The steamer entered the harbor, and before her anchor was down, her decks were invaded by the usual swarms of boatmen, on the lookout for a job. We were almost within jumping distance of the shore, and had we possessed the strength and activity of fleas, in proportion to our size, we should have made short work of going ashore. Not being thus gifted, we made the usual bargain for transportation to the land, and from the shore, through the Custom House, to the hotel.
The customary “backsheesh” of two francs saved us from an inspection of our baggage, and we were soon at the hotel. I cannot speak very highly of this establishment; there are two hotels that keep up a warm rivalry, and are first-class in their prices, if in nothing else. Whichever hotel you patronize on visiting Port Said, you will wish you had gone to the other.
Port Said is modern; it was founded in 1859, and owes its existence to the construction of the Suez Canal. Previous to that time, there was no town there, and not even a single house. Early in April, a small body of laborers landed there, and on the 25th of that month, M. de Lesseps, the projector of the canal, in the presence of a dozen Europeans and six or eight times that number of natives, removed the first spadeful of earth in the great enterprise, that was to open a water way from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea. A few huts had been erected on the site of the present city, which was named Port Said in honor of the then Viceroy.