“A wonderful country,” remarked the professor. “Rich beyond imagination, even after centuries of Turkish misrule. We can imagine what it must have been in the days of the Pharaohs, when every inch of ground was carefully cultivated and when this valley of the Nile supported an immense population.”
“What makes it so rich?” asked Teddy.
“The River Nile,” was the answer. “The annual overflow of the river leaves a rich deposit of mud that has gradually grown deeper with the passage of centuries. Dry up the Nile, and Egypt would no longer exist. It would be just like the Sahara. The old Egyptians used to worship the Nile as a god and pay sacrifices to it, because they knew their very lives depended upon it. The priests had pillars, on which they marked each year the rising of the waters. If the waters were high there would be an abundant harvest. If they were low the crops would be very poor. If unusually low, the country would be threatened with famine. In a very real sense the Nile is Egypt. Even now, beyond the limits of the spread of the water the country is practically a desert.”
The old and the new were in perpetual contact all through the train journey. The railroad stations were neat and well-kept, with well-uniformed attendants and English clerks in spotless white. Around them clustered scores of beggars extending their skinny hands toward the car windows and clamoring for baksheesh. The train passed handsome villas surrounded by beautiful gardens. These were within a stone’s throw of squalid mud huts, with ragged dirty children playing about the doors. Donkeys, so heavily laden with sugar cane that the very heads of the patient animals were hidden, were prodded along with sticks in the hands of their drivers. These ancient burden-bearers disputed the road with modern motor cars, whose honking horns seemed strangely out of place in that Oriental setting.
It was a fascinating study of contrasts, and it so engrossed the attention of the boys that it was with a sensation of regret they found that they were approaching Cairo, the capital of the kingdom and the greatest city of Africa.
They had telegraphed to Zeta Phalos that they were coming, and they found him waiting for them with a handsome touring car and a uniformed chauffeur. He waved aside all their suggestions that they might be taxing his hospitality too much, and insisted on conveying them to his home, to be his guests until they set out on their search.
There was no denying such friendliness, and they stepped into the car and were rapidly whirled to the home of Phalos, which proved to be a palatial one in the suburbs of the city, not far from the banks of the Nile.
It was a beautiful structure, built in harmony with the climate and surroundings. There were many rooms opening on balconies that overlooked a courtyard in which were plashing fountains, and everything indicated that their host was a man of wealth, as well as of breeding and culture.
After a dinner so good that Don and Teddy ate till for very shame’s sake they had to stop, the party adjourned to a balcony which fronted on the river.
“Gee! pinch me somebody,” exclaimed Teddy, as he sank into a chair and took in the full glory of the sunset. “I feel as if I were living in the days of the Arabian Nights.”