There is one in the museum at Cairo that I would walk twenty-three miles to own. It is about as large over as a two-cent piece, and the back is cut as neatly as that of the beetle it imitated, while the under side is covered with fine hieroglyphics. And the stone is green feldspar, one of the hardest things in the world for cutting, and how they managed to finish it so beautifully is a mystery.
The Arabs at Luxor have a liberal supply of these scarabees but they are nearly all modern imitations. They have some genuine ones for which they ask a high price, but it sometimes happens that a really good one is sold for a trifle. They declare that every-thing they have is “antika” and ask proportionate prices, but you are not expected to offer anywhere near the sum demanded.
When a man exhibited something that I thought I would buy, I asked his price. If he said two pounds, I might offer sixpence, and very often they would come down to one or two shillings for something that they originally asked two pounds for. I bought a scarabee for a franc that was offered to me for thirty francs, and one of my friends paid two francs for something for which one hundred and fifty francs was the first price.
In other countries an article is supposed to be worth somewhere near the price put upon it, but any such rule is erroneous in Egypt. I have no hesitation in offering a silver piastre, (five cents,) for a scarabee whose holder demands two pounds; in New York or London a similar offer would be an insult, but in Luxor it is not so regarded.
A great many people are foolish enough to buy these antiquities at the prices demanded, and the Arabs in this business are able to make a good living. They are reputed to make many of the articles, and I was told that others are made in Cairo, and others in Birmingham—like the famous Waterloo relics. One fellow was pointed out as the owner of a fabrique d’ antiquities and we asked him to show us his shop. He denied having any factory, and then we offered him five francs, ten francs, a napoleon if he would show us through it. He finally grew indignant and said:
“No, no, no; not for ten napoleons will I let you see it.”
The fabrications are very skillful, and even the experts are sometimes deceived by them. The safest parties to deal with are the Consuls; they are all merchants of antiquities, but even they are not always to be relied upon, as they have families to support and human nature is weak. What wonder if a consul who has to maintain dignity and an office, should take advantage of circumstances and drive a sharp transaction whenever he finds a rich flat.
