UP THE NILE.
II.
Like giant walls the Libyan and Arabian mountains bound the valley on either side, at one point close to the river bank, at another receding inland five or six miles. From Cairo to Wady Halfa, eight hundred miles, they stretch in an unbroken line. Beautiful groves of palm-trees line the banks, among which we wander for hours as the boat is tracked up the stream. This mode of progression is slow indeed, and is used when the wind fails us. A stout rope is made fast to the bow, and eight or ten men, taking hold of the other end, walk along the bank, dragging the boat after them, scarcely ever making more than five or six miles a day. We go ashore at this time. There are numbers of fine birds to shoot—over two hundred and fifty different kinds: vultures, rosy pelicans, golden orioles, pink flamingos, many geese and ducks, and innumerable flocks of aboulgerdans, the ardetta russata, or buff-back heron, the constant friend and companion of the buffalo. For hours we wander through palm-groves, cotton and sugar fields, and occasionally pass through a small village, to the intense amusement of the elders and the terror of the juveniles. Near midnight of the 24th of December we reached Ekhmeem, a small town on the east bank. We had been anxious to spend Christmas morning here; for there is a reunited Coptic church, and we all wished to attend Mass. The church was not very handsome nor elaborately finished.
The floor was composed of bricks, with a few straw mats scattered here and there. The roof was made of rough, unfinished boards, two openings in which served to admit light and air, thus dispensing with the necessity for windows. There were a few pews. On the walls were painted pictures of saints and holy men and women. They were executed by native artists, and to the untutored eye of these simple natives seemed beautiful no doubt. They reminded us of those pictures we were wont to draw on our slates when schoolboys. After they were finished, painful doubts would arise as to whether any one would be able to tell for what they were intended; so to remove all apprehension we wrote underneath: “This is a man,” “This is a cow.” If many Western Christians are to visit this church, it would be well for them to do the same, so that we may not mistake a picture of the Blessed Virgin for a shadoof, or St. Joseph for a portion of an obelisk. There were about forty Arabs, men and boys, in the body of the church, and some women behind the lattice-work screens at the rear which separated them from the men. This separation of sex is carried on even in the Christian churches of Egypt. Father H—— officiated, and we had the honor to be the first Latins who had ever heard Mass in the Coptic church of Ekhmeem. Afterwards we were hospitably entertained by the Coptic priest. He invited us
to his reception-room on the second story; the congregation crowded in, and each one in turn shook hands with us, and then kissed their own hands in token of respect. Innumerable cups of coffee and cigarettes were forced upon us. I like coffee, and am particularly fond of a cigarette, but both in moderation. One soon tires, however, of converting himself into a movable coffee-pot and perambulating smoke-stack to afford these natives a means of showing that they are pleased with his visit. I have never seen smoking carried on to such an extent as in this country. While dressing in the morning and undressing at night they puff their cigarettes. During the day the smoke is constantly issuing from their lips.
Pococke speaks of some convents near here, one of which is called “Of the Martyrs,” and is mentioned by the Arab historian Macrizi, and another about two miles further in a wild valley, which is composed of grottoes in the rock and a brick chapel covered with Coptic inscriptions. Near this is a rude beaten path leading to what appears to have been the abode of a hermit. Ekhmeem, down to the advent of the Moslems, was considered the oldest city of all Egypt. It was supposed to have been founded by Ekhmeem, the great-grandson of Ham. This was after the Deluge; and if the generally-received date of that event be correct, then the supposition was false. Modern Egyptologists, unless wrong in their chronology, show that many cities existed at least three thousand years before Christ.
A few hours’ sail brought us to Girgeh, a small town on the left bank. Here is the oldest Roman Catholic establishment in Egypt. Girgis, or George, is the patron
saint of all the Egyptian Christians, and after him the town was named. Leo Africanus says that Girgeh was formerly the largest and most opulent monastery of Christians in Egypt, called after St. George, and inhabited by upwards of two hundred monks, who possessed much land in the neighborhood. They supplied food to all travellers, and sent annually a large sum to the patriarch at Cairo to be distributed among the Christian poor. About one hundred years ago a dreadful plague afflicted Egypt and carried off all the monks of the convent. There is a small congregation now of some four hundred reunited Copts, with a few Coptic priests, presided over by a Franciscan missionary. We called on him and paid a very pleasant visit. He accepted our invitation to dinner. As it was Christmas day, and this our first dinner-party, Ahmud spared no trouble to have everything as nice as possible. The table was laid with very pretty pink and white china. Ibrahim appeared in a full suit of the purest white. The principal dish was a turkey; and such turkeys as they have in this upper country are to be found nowhere else in the world. Unfortunately, the priest could only speak Arabic and Italian; and as our knowledge of those languages was very limited, the conversation was not animated. One of our party spoke Spanish fluently; with this assistance, and what remained of the Latin of our college days, we made some progress, and were able to exchange a little information and a few ideas. The Father was an Italian of good family, and had been at Girgeh for eight years. His congregation were very much attached to him, but, being very poor, he found it difficult to get along. The only outside
aid he received was from the missionary society of Lyons, who send to each mission along the Nile one napoleon (about four dollars) per month.