the time, and at the end pronounced it tamam, "perfect." I then proposed climbing the mountain, as he had said one could see the whole world from the top. He was bound to go with me wherever I went, but shrank from climbing El Berkel. It would require two hours, he said, to go up. After eating a slice of watermelon in the shade of one of the pillars, I took off my jacket and started alone, and very soon he was at my side, panting and sweating with the exertion. We began at the point most easy of ascent, yet found it toilsome enough. After passing the loose fragments which lie scattered around the base, we came upon a steep slope of sliding sand and stones, blown from the desert. We sank in this nearly to the knees, and slid backward at each step at least half as far as we had stepped forward. We were obliged to rest every three or four steps, and take breath, moistening the sand meanwhile with a rain of sweat-drops. 66 Surely there is no other mountain in the world so high as this," said the shekh, and I was ready to agree with him. At last we reached the top, a nearly level space of about ten acres. There was a pleasant breeze here, but the Ethiopian world below was dozing in an atmosphere of blue heat. There was too much vapour in the air to see the farthest objects distinctly, and the pyramids of Noori, further up the river, on its eastern bank, were not visible. The Nile lay curved in the middle of the picture like a flood of molten glass, on either side its palmy "knots of paradise," then the wheat-fields, lying like slabs of emerald against the tawny sands, that rolled in hot drifts and waves and long ridgy swells to the horizon north and south, broken here and there by the jagged porphyry peaks. Before me, to the south-east, the rugged hills of the Beyooda; behind me, to the north and west, the burning wilderness of the Great Nubian Desert. As I sought for my glass, to scan the view more distinctly, I became aware that I had lost my pocket-book on the way up. As it contained some money and all my keys, I was not a little troubled, and mentioned my loss to Shekh Mohammed. We immediately returned in search of it, sliding down the sand and feeling with our hands and feet therein. We had made more than half the descent, and I began to consider the search as hopeless, when the shekh, who was a little in advance, cried out, "O Sidi! God be praised! God be praised!" He saw the corner of it sticking out of the sand, took it up, kissed it, and laid it on one eye, while he knelt with his old head turned up, that I might take it off. I tied it securely in a corner of my shawl, and we slid to the bottom, where we found Achmet and the young shekhs in the shade of a huge projecting cliff, with breakfast spread out on the sand. It was now noon, and only the pyramids remained to be seen on that side of the river. The main group is about a third of a mile from the mountain, on the ridge of a sand-hill. There are six in this, nearly entire, and the foundations of others. They are almost precisely similar to those of the real Meroë, each having a small exterior chamber on the eastern side. Like the latter, they are built of sandstone blocks, only filled at the corners, which are covered with a hem or moulding; the sides of two of them are convex. On all of them the last eight or ten courses next the top have been smoothed to follow the slope of the side. It was no doubt intended to finish them all in this manner. One of them has also the corner moulding rounded, so as to form a scroll, like that on the cornice of many of the Egyptian temples. They are not more than fifty feet in height, with very narrow bases. One of them, indeed, seems to be the connecting link between the pyramid and the obelisk. Nearer the river is an older pyramid, though no regular courses of stones are to be seen any longer. These sepulchral remains, however, are much inferior to those of Meroë. We rode back to the town on our uneasy donkey saddles. As I wanted money, the shekh proposed my calling on Achmedar Kashif, the governor of Meroë and Ambukol, and asking him to change me some medjids. We accordingly rode under the imposing stone piles of the old kings to the residence of the kashif, a two-story mud house with a portico in front, covered with matting. It was the day for the people of the neighbourhood to pay their tulpeh, or tax, and some of his officers were seated on the ground in the shade, settling this business with a crowd of Arabs. I went up stairs to the divan, and found the kashif rolling himself in his shawl, for dinner, which his slaves had just brought up. He received me cordially, and I took my seat beside him on the floor, and dipped my fingers into the various dishes. There was a pan of baked fish, which was excellent, after which came a tray of scarlet watermelon slices, coffee, pipes, and lastly a cup of hot sugar syrup. He readily promised to change me the money, and afterwards accepted my invitation to dinner. I stayed an hour longer, and had an opportunity of witnessing some remarkable scenes. A woman came in to complain of her husband, who had married another woman, leaving her with one child. She had a cow of her own, which he had forcibly taken and given to his new wife. The kashif listened to her story, and then detaching his seal from his button-hole, gave it to an attendant, as a summons which the delinquent dare not disobey. A company of men afterward came in to adjust some dispute about a water-mill. They spoke so fast and in such a violent and excited manner, that I could not comprehend the nature of the quarrel; but the group they made was most remarkable. They leaned forward with gnashing teeth and flashing eyes, holding the folds of their long mantles with one hand, while they dashed and hurled the other in the air, in the violence of their contention. One would suppose that they must all perish the next instant by spontaneous combustion. The kashif was calmness itself all the while, and after getting the particulars-a feat which I considered marvellous-quietly gave his decision. Some of the party protested against it, whereupon he listened attentively, but, finding no reason to change his judgment, repeated it. Still the Arabs screamed and gesticulated. He ejaculated imshee! ("get away!") in a thundering tone, dealt the nearest ones a vigorous blow with his fist, and speedily cleared the divan. I made preparations for giving the kashif a handsome dinner. I had mutton and fowls, and Achmet procured eggs, milk, and vegetables, and set his whole available force to work. Meanwhile the shekh and I sat on the divan outside the door, and exchanged compliments. He sold me a sword from Bornou, which he had purchased from an Arab merchant who had worn it to Mecca. He told me he considered me as his two eyes, and would give me one of his sons, if I desired. Then he rendered me an account of his family, occasionally pointing out the members thereof, as they passed to and fro among the palms. He asked me how many children I had, and I was obliged to confess myself wholly his inferior in this respect. "God grant," said he, "that when you go back to your own country, you may have many sons, just like that one," pointing to a naked Cupidon of four years old, of a rich chocolate-brown colour. "God grant it," I was obliged to reply, conformably to the rules of Arab politeness, but I mentally gave the words the significance of "God forbid it !"-The shekh, who is actually quite familiar with the ruins in Ethiopia, and an excellent guide to them, informed me that they were four thousand years old; that the country was at that time in possession of the English, but afterward the Arabs drove them out. This corresponds with an idea very prevalent in Egypt, that the temples were built by the forefathers of the Frank travellers, who once lived there, and that is the reason why the Franks make hadji, or pilgrimage to see them. I related to the shekh the history of the warlike Queen Candace, who once lived here, in her capital of Napata, and he was so much interested in the story that he wrote it down, Arabicising her name into Kandasiyeh. Future travellers will be surprised to find a tradition of the aforesaid queen, no doubt with many grotesque embellishments, told him on the site of her capital. Dinner was ready at sunset, the appointed time, but the kashif did not come. I waited one hour, two hours; still he came not. Thereupon I invited Achmet and the shekh, and we made an excellent dinner in Turkish style. It was just over, and I was stretched out without jacket or tarboosh, enjoying my pipe, when we heard the ferryman singing on the river below, and soon afterward the kashif appeared at the door. He apologized, saying he had been occupied in his divan. I had dinner served again, and tasted the dishes to encourage him, but it appeared that he had not been able to keep his appetite so long, and had dined also. Still, he ate enough to satisfy me that he relished my dishes, and afterward drank a sherbet of sugar and vinegar with great gusto. He had three or four attendants, and there came beside a Berber merchant, who had lately been in Khartoum. I produced my sketch-book and maps, and astonished the company for three hours. I happened to have a book of Shaksperean views, which I purchased in Stratford-on-Avon. The picture of Shakspeare gave the kashif and shekh great delight, and the former considered the hovel in which the poet was born " very grand." The church in Stratford they thought a marvellous building, and the merchant confessed that it was greater than Lattif Pasha's palace in Khartoum, which he had supposed to be the finest building in the world. Yesterday morning the shekh proposed going with me to the remains of a temple, half an hour distant, on this side of the river: the place, he said, where the people find the little images, agates, and scarabei, which they brought to me in great quantities. After walking a mile and a half over the sands, which have here crowded the vegetation to the very water's edge, we came to a broad mound of stones, broken bricks and pottery, with a foundation wall of heavy limestone blocks, along the western side. There were traces of doors and niches, and on the summit of the mound the pedestals of columns similar to those of El Berkel. From this place commenced a waste of ruins, extending for nearly two miles towards the north-west, while the breadth, from east to west, was about equal. For the most part, the buildings were entirely concealed by the sand, which is filled with fragments of pottery and glass, and with shining pebbles of jasper, agate, and chalcedony. Half a mile further, we struck on another mound, of greater extent, though the buildings were entirely level with the earth. The foundations of pillars were abundant, and fragments of circular limestone blocks lay crumbling to pieces in the rubbish. The most interesting object was a mutilated figure of blue granite, of which only a huge pair of wings could be recognised. The shekh said that all the Frank travellers who came there broke off a piece and carried it away with them. I did not follow their example. Towards the river were many remains of crude-brick walls, and the ground was scattered with pieces of excellent hard-burnt bricks. The sand evidently conceals many interesting objects. I saw in one place, where it had fallen in, the entrance to a chamber, wholly below the surface. The Arabs were at work in various parts of the plain, digging up the sand, which they filled in baskets and carried away on donkeys. The shekh said it contained salt, and was very good to make wheat grow, whence I infer that the earth is nitrous. We walked for an hour or two over the ruins, finding everywhere the evidence that a large capital had once stood on the spot. The bits of water-jars which we picked up were frequently painted and glazed with much skill. The soil was in many places wholly composed of the debris of the former dwellings. This was, without doubt, the ancient Napata, of which Djebel Berkel was only the necropolis. Napata must have been one of the greatest cities of ancient Africa, after Thebes, Memphis, and Carthage. I felt a peculiar interest in wandering over the site of that halfforgotten capital, whereof the ancient historians knew little more than we. That so little is said by them in relation to it is somewhat surprising, notwithstanding its distance from the Roman frontier. In the afternoon Achmet, with great exertion, backed by all the influence of the kashif, succeeded in obtaining ten piastres worth of bread. The former sent me the shekh of the camels, who furnished me three animals and three men, to Wadi Halfa, at ninety-five piastres a piece. They were to accompany my caravan to Ambukol, on the Dongolese frontier, where the camels from Khartoum were to be discharged. I spent the rest of the day talking with the shekh on religious matters. He gave me the history of Christ, in return for which I related to him that of the soul of Mahomet, from 110,000 years before the creation of the world until his birth, according to the Arab chronicles. This quite overcame him. He seized my hand and kissed it with fervour, acknowledging me as the more holy man of the two. He said he had read the Books of Moses, the Psalms of David, and the Gospel of Christ, but liked David best, whose words flowed like the sound of the zumarra, or Arab flute. To illustrate it, he chanted one of the Psalms in a series of not unmusical cadences. He then undertook to repeat the ninety-nine attributes of God, and thought he succeeded, but I noticed that several of the epithets were repeated more than once. The north wind increased during the afternoon, and towards night blew a very gale. The sand came in through the door in such quantities that I was obliged to move my bed to a more sheltered part of my house. Numbers of huge black beetles, as hard and heavy as grape-shot, were dislodged from their holes and dropped around me with such loud raps that I was scarcely able to sleep. The sky was dull and dark, hardly a star to be seen, and the wind roared in the palms like a November gale let loose among the boughs of a northern forest. It was a grand roar, drowning the sharp rattle of the leaves when lightly stirred, and rocked my fancies as gloriously as the pine. In another country than Africa I should have predicted rain, hail, Equinoctial storms, or something of the kind, but here I went to sleep with a positive certainty of sunshine on the morrow. I was up this morning at dawn, and had breakfast by sunrise; nevertheless we were obliged to wait a long while for the camels, or rather the pestiferous kababish who went after them. The new men and camels were in readiness, as the camel-shekh came over the river to see that all was right. Finally, towards eight o'clock, everything was in order, and my caravan began to move. I felt real regret at leaving the pleasant spot, especially the beautiful bower of palms at the door of my house. When my effects had been taken out, the shekh called his eldest son, Saad, his wife, Fatima, and their two young sons, to make their salaams. They all kissed my hand, and I then gave the old man and Saad my backshish for their services. The shekh took the two gold medjids readily, without any hypocritical show of reluctance, and lifted my hand to his lips and forehead. When all was ready, he repeated the Fatha, or opening paragraph of the Koran, as each camel rose from its knees, in order to secure the blessing of Allah upon our journey. He then took me in his arms, kissed both my cheeks, and with tears in his eyes, stood showering pious phrases after me, till I was out of hearing. With no more vanity or selfishness than is natural to an Arab, Shekh Mohammed Abdul-Djebal has many excellent qualities, and there are few of my Central African acquaintances whom I would rather see again.* THE CANADIAN HERD-BOY. THROUGH the deep woods at peep of day, A blythe reply, he whistles back, He sees them now-beneath yon trees Cobas! Cobas! far up the dell, Quick jingling comes the cattle-bell! We are indebted to the New York "Weekly Tribune" for this interesting narrative.-ED. |