Chapter XII

Assouan — The treaty with the Reis — The quarries — The Persian invasion — Caravan of slaves — Hunting for jackals — Daireh’s love story.

The approach to Assouan is through a scene singularly beautiful. The river, sweeping abruptly round, opens into a kind of bay, shut in by the picturesque island of Elephantina, and terminated by high, bold rocks, looking like the boundaries of a lake. Assouan lies, like a nest, under towering crags, crowned with ruins, the remains of a town of importance, and is itself a village of some pretensions. It is on the left bank of the river, here much contracted, entering upon a region of a totally different character. The prospect from the heights is of great extent, and surpassing interest, including a wide sweep of Egypt and Nubia—countries most distinct in their features—and a noble expanse of wood and water, hill and lowland, in the midst of which lie the lovely shades of Elephantina.

We had arranged to receive our letters at Assouan; and after being so long without intelligence from home, and a full month having elapsed since we had even seen a European face, we were most impatient to ascertain what awaited us. We were soon on our way to the Post-office, where the postmaster, a fine old Arab, received us very courteously, and produced two budgets of letters and a copy of the “Times,” for which we paid the not unreasonable charge of six shillings and sixpence. These treasures had been brought from Cairo overland, by pedestrian messengers, called runners, who relieved one another at stated distances; and the packets had been fingered by every Pasha and Bey of the various towns on the route. The “Times” was a month old, but quite fresh to us; even the advertisements were devoured, and proved tolerably digestible.

Assouan is the porch to the first cataract of the Nile; and our news from England was scarcely discussed, when the cataract authorities, ever alive to business, paid us a visit, and set to work to get as high a price as possible for carrying us over. One would have supposed, however, from the tenor of their conversation, that such a project was the very furthest from their thoughts, and it was long before they could be entrapped into the most remote allusion to it. Daireh predicted that the negotiation would last three days; but we were determined, if our united tact could accomplish it, to finish all at one sitting. Pipes and coffee were introduced, and the most alluring hints thrown out; but the Reis of the cataract, who saw a trap in every word, would speak of anything but what he had come about. At length, he remarked, with great gravity and decision, that it was quite out of the question to think of taking our boat up, as it was too large, and could not possibly be got over. Hereupon the bargaining commenced, and after a contest of two hours’ duration, it was definitively settled that we should be taken up the cataract on the morrow, and let down on our return, for the sum of £7, being £3 10_s._ for each boat.

While the various articles of this important treaty were being discussed, a crowd collected in front of the boats on shore, gradually increasing to several hundreds, and giving great animation to the scene. Some had friends among our crews, a few of whom, as old hands, had ascended the cataract again and again; and these kept up a dialogue of the most sprightly character. Others were connected with the Reis of the cataract, or felt interested in the negotiation; and many were venders of articles of _vertu_, as it is understood here, embracing in their stock an assortment of spears and clubs, ostrich eggs and feathers, and some genuine modern antiquities, among which I noticed the blade of a knife, marked with the hieroglyphics of Rogers & Co. But as soon as the contract was settled, the Reis took his departure, and the crowd dispersed.

In the afternoon, when the heat of the day had subsided, we rode out to the quarries of red granite and sienite, which are a short distance from the village, on the other side of the Nile. The excavations are on a scale commensurate with the vast works they were destined to construct, and the rocks have been hewn out as easily as if they had been clay. The wedge, which seems to have been used from the earliest ages, was the great power in requisition for such service. When the block was marked out by wedges, water was poured in, which, causing the wood to swell, the rock burst asunder, and gave forth material for a column, or a god. The shattered heights are covered with rude inscriptions, referring to blocks cut out, and some commemorating victories of the ancient Pharoahs, by whose command the excavations were made. All seems as if it were the creation of yesterday; as if the artificers, called off by some emergency, had but just left their mighty labour. Even the traces of the wooden wedges are still apparent in the rocks; and the obelisk which was hewn out for removal, but in consequence of some flaw not taken away, still stands where it was left by the workmen. The excavations are said to have been arrested by the Persian Conquest, which, at the same time, overthrew the proud temples they had helped to raise, and heaped the country with ruins. It would almost seem, on glancing round, that the same imperious hand had diverted the natural course of the river, as a strip of desert lies between the quarries and the high ground near the water, strewn with enormous boulders, looking as though they had but just been washed from the heights by some resistless torrent, while the Nile forces a passage over rocks beyond, forming the first cataract. But this may appear an idle speculation, and standing here, only one problem presents itself—how such stupendous blocks, cut in one mass from the quarries, could be removed to such a distance as Thebes? The exact means of transit indeed must ever remain a mystery, but it seems certain that they were conveyed by land; and Herodotus, who took infinite pains to arrive at the truth, mentions that two thousand men were employed three years in transporting one block to its destination.

It was with some reluctance that we turned from these strange diggings, and retraced our steps to the boats. On our way we descried a covey of partridges, the first we had yet seen, but which proved the harbingers of many others. Fortune, however, delights in cross-purposes, and it so happened that this was the only time we had come on shore without our guns, being utterly weary of carrying fire-arms for no purpose. But we had now a prospect before us, and for the future went prepared.

Just before reaching the boats, we came upon a large party of female slaves, on their way down to Cairo, where, in the lottery of the slave- market, they were to pass to new masters. They were penned like sheep in a range of little huts, formed by hanging matting round a clump of palm trees, which spread their grateful shade above. It was most amusing, as we drew near, to see the rush they made to gain cover, and how they ducked their heads under the matting, to avoid being seen, though curiosity, the weak point of the sex, brought up again many a pair of bright eyes, to look at us as we passed. They were nearly all young girls, varying in age from twelve to sixteen; and a merrier set could not be met with. The woods rang with their pleasant laughter; and one might have thought—what perhaps was not very far from the truth—that in place of now entering the house of bondage, they had left it behind in their own country. Their masters, from all we could learn, are uniformly kind to them; and whenever we encountered a party, we found that the girls were much attached to the head of their caravan. The bevy we now saw was from Abyssinia—whence, indeed, most of the female slaves of Egypt are drawn—and was destined, as the Abyssinian girls usually are, for the Turkish hareems, or as wives of shop-keepers and affluent Arabs. Their colour was a glossy black; they were exceedingly well made, and had bright cheerful faces, lit up by sparkling black eyes. They all seemed very shy, and could not be induced to come out of their huts, or even to let us approach them. There was but one who showed more confidence, a very fine young woman, apparently about twenty-five years of age, who brought out her baby, a most beautiful child, almost a Murillo in colour, and exquisitely formed. We offered to purchase it, but, though she seemed flattered, the mother’s heart clung to her child, and she could not be tempted to part with it. We gave her some money for grease, which had an immediate effect on her spirits, and then left her, the envy of the whole sisterhood.

In the evening we went out with our guns, and accompanied by a guide, in quest of jackals, which he undertook to find for us. It was quite dark, and we walked silently along, in Indian file, over the hill, keeping both eye and ear on the alert, and our guns ready for service. We soon discovered traces of the enemy, and heard his wailing cry, but this was the limit of our success. The moon rising, rendered it light as day; and though our companion, putting a good face on the matter, was still profuse in promises, it required no long time to convince us that there was but little chance of our obtaining any sport. The pursuit, however, had not been unattended with excitement, and we were amply compensated for our walk by the brilliant landscape, which, in that mystic light, surpassed anything that could be imagined.

Returning on board, we found that the crew had retired, and all was made snug for the night. Daireh, our dragoman, was lying on his rug at the cabin-door, his usual resting-place, and was half asleep; but quickly aroused himself, and in another moment was seen smoking. The two watchers were amusing each other by recounting the Arabian Nights; and Daireh, between the long puffs of his pipe, translated one story, recording the eventful fortunes of the prince who was carried off from Damascus in his drawers, in the dead hour of the night. From this, being in a communicative mood, he turned to some incidents of his own life, and then related how he first fell in love, and with what result, expressing himself with indescribable delicacy and feeling.

Poor Daireh, it should seem, was attending a traveller in the Syrian desert, when they encountered a large caravan of slaves, one of whom, a lovely young girl, who had seen some fifteen summers, won the dragoman’s heart. He described her as very fair, with beautiful soft eyes, like a gazelle’s, and raven hair, and as having a light, ringing laugh, which struck on his ear like music. All at once, Daireh discovered that he should be very lonely when he returned home, and he mentioned the subject to his master, who, with the sagacity of Achitophel, recommended marriage. Accordingly, Daireh, only too eager, went to the head of the caravan, and bought the girl for fifteen pounds, on which, with a delicacy very foreign to the usages of his country, he asked her to marry him, at the same time telling her that she was perfectly free, and could act as her own choice directed. Even if she could, under such circumstances, have hesitated, a tempting promise of the dresses and delicate food, with which Daireh adroitly backed his offer, was irresistible, and the fair enslaver gave a glad consent. They were married at Beyrout, and thence proceeded to Cairo, where, having a competent income, they lived very happily for two years, in the course of which Daireh was presented with a very fine boy, on whom both he and the fond mother centred all their hopes. Now came the blight on the honest dragoman’s life. The child sickened and died!

It was most touching to hear the poor fellow describe, in his mournful tones, how he had tried to console and support his wife under their sad bereavement. Like all the women of the East, she had a passion for dress, and he thought to win her from her sorrow by costly presents; but the time was gone when, in the freedom of a happy heart, such things could bring light to her eye, or a smile to her lip. Her tears still flowed, and the world, which had just before been so full of promise, had for her lost all its charms. Her heart was weary and heavy-laden, and pined for that last resting-place, which held in its cold embrace her buried treasure. On the third day the poor mourner died.

Such was Daireh’s tale, evincing a tenderness and a flow of sentiment which seemed quite incongruous in one of his race and caste. Who, under so rugged an exterior, would have looked for the pearl of genuine love, or the cherished memories of a secret sorrow? But nature asserts her sway under every peculiarity; and savage indeed is the bosom that is not moved in some way by the impulses of human kindness!

I could offer him no consolation, when he had finished his story, though I felt, without a word being said, that his emotion was all the more painful for being repressed. Perhaps the unwonted stillness, and the solemn repose of the surrounding scene, resplendent with almost unearthly light, were more in unison with his feelings, and exercised over him both a soothing and consoling influence. He finished his pipe in silence, when I bade him good night, and left him to his reflections.