us lay Cairo with its innumerable mosques and minarets, the Nile with the peculiar Nile boats called dahabeahs floating peacefully on its surface. Here and there the stately camel strides silently on, veiled women and turbaned Arabs in loose flowing robes, groves of palm trees, while nearer to us we see the half-ruined tombs of the Caliphs and Mamelukes, the citadel and the beautiful mosque of Mehemet Ali full of carved columns of alabaster. To the late burning heat which we encountered in the desert succeeds a soft, balmy, dry air, and the beautiful and varied hues of the setting sun is reflected from the glittering mosques and minarets, rocks and sands, presenting a picture which will not soon fade from my memory, and which requires the poetry, eloquence, and pen of a Byron to adequately describe. In striking contrast to the beautiful scene we had just enjoyed was the wretched-looking houses of the Arabs, the squalor, dirt and miserable pathways on the hill-side which we encountered immediately afterwards as we pursued our homeward journey.
CHAPTER V.
A YOUNG AMERICAN AT SHEPHEARD’S HOTEL—DRIVE TO THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH—ASCENT AND EXPLORATION OF THE PYRAMID OF CHEOPS—THE SPHINX.
We arrived at our hotel rather tired, and felt it quite a relief to stretch our legs out straight after having them cramped up so long whilst on our donkeys. Having partaken of a good dinner, I adjourned to the balcony with a cigarette, sank into an easy lounge, and communed with my own thoughts. I had not been here long before I discovered sitting near me an individual, apparently about 23 years of age, whose nether extremities rested on the back of a chair, his feet being parallel with his chin. He was dressed in a somewhat outré manner, the lower limbs being encased in check prolongations; the body in a brown coat, something like a sack in shape; the throat was surrounded by a loose, turn-down collar, and loose neckerchief, whilst the summit of this curious specimen of humanity was crowned by a huge felt hat, with an enormous brim. The clouds of smoke which he emitted from his mouth rivalled a young volcano; he was smoking a cigar, and did not forget to expectorate in a most profuse and dangerous manner, so much so that, feeling in somewhat dangerous proximity to the fire of his artillery, I got up with the intention of escaping any little salivary accidents; but my silent companion had his eye on me, and thus suddenly addressed me in the decidedly nasal accent and twang peculiar to the inhabitants of America—
“Stranger, I guess this Cairo is a tarnation rummy place?”
Seeing no reason to dispute this by no means rash assertion, I readily conceded the point; and, by way of carrying on the conversation, ventured to remark that—
“It certainly is a very curious and interesting old place, and the inhabitants no less so.”
He: “That’s so, sirree; they are queer beggars, and so are their wimen.”
This also was an indisputable fact, and I acknowledged that they were a strange race, strongly wedded to old customs, and as strongly opposed to innovations.
He: “Stranger, yew don’t roost here, I guess?”
I: “No; I am just travelling for a few months, and shall leave Cairo in two or three days’ time.”
He: “In what line may you be travelling, stranger?”
Now, of course I knew what he meant, but thought his remarks were so original, not to say impertinent, that I must not omit this opportunity of extracting some amusement, and provide material for my diary. I therefore replied—
“Oh! I came by the P. and O. line to Alexandria, by rail here, and now my lines have fallen in pleasant places.”
“Guess yew don’t quite fathom me. What’s yer business, and where are you going tew?” said he.
I then gave him the names of a number of places in Egypt and the Soudan, enumerating them as rapidly as I could, so that I am quite sure my nasal friend was very little the wiser for the information.
He enshrouded himself in a huge cloud of smoke, vigorously expectorated once more, and regarding me fixedly for a moment, exclaimed—
“By Jupiter! stranger, that’s a large order. Opening up a trade or colonize, I guess.”
I suppose, because I told him I was travelling with six other gentlemen, he thought we were going to start a colony somewhere, and then annex all the adjacent country, which, by the way, would certainly be a very good thing for the Egyptians and the Soudanese, and very probably for ourselves also. However, I gave him to understand that we were simply travelling for pleasure, exploration, and sport. Notwithstanding this, my Yankee acquaintance was determined to turn me inside out if he could; he, therefore, was so complimentary as to say—
“Well, now, I guess you are a gentleman?”
To this I answered—
“Thanks; I trust your surmise is a correct one;” and I might have said, but I did not, “Sorry I cannot return the compliment.”
I have often heard of the pertinacity of an American reporter, but it appears to me that the bump of inquisitiveness is not by any means confined to them, but pervades the whole community. There was no shilly-shallying, no delicate, nicely-worded hints and adroitly-put questions; but my interrogator was determined to find out all about me if he could, and so he asked me how long I had been in Cairo, how old I was, if I was married or single, how many children I had, if I lived on my money, and lots of the most impertinent questions, and finally finished up by saying, “Guess you are a Britisher?”
Having, as he thought, pumped me pretty considerably, he was good enough to take me into his confidence, and tell me all about himself, and his belongings, and “hew his father had left him a pile,” adding, “Guess I spend some, and move about a bit.” I could not help saying—
“I think you are wise to pursue that course; travel will improve you a good deal, and, like the marble statuary in the Baulac Museum, it will put on a little polish.”
He eulogised the States and the inhabitants thereof, and was apparently under the impression that America was the only place worth speaking of, winding up with the quite unnecessary announcement—
“I’m ’Merican.”
“Oh, yes,” I replied; “I knew at once you were an American.”
“Yes; is that so?” said he. “Hew did ye know that, stranger?”
“Well,” said I, “by your accent, the estimate you form of your country, and, pardon me for saying so, but no one but an American would have asked me such questions as you have, or manifested such a desire to find out all about me and my affairs.”
He did not appear to be at all annoyed at this remark, but merely said—
“By thunder! stranger, you are a queer coon. Will you come and liquor?”
I declined with thanks, and left young America to ponder over the inscrutable ways and manners of the “darned Britisher.” He was evidently the offspring of a parent who, perchance, had “struck ile,” and had never before forsaken his ancestral home in search of travel and adventure; and, if such was the case, we must excuse the young man. As soon as I left him I sought my bedroom, chronicled the above conversation in my diary, and retired to bed, where I slept soundly.
The following day I and three others formed a party for a visit to the far-famed pyramids of Gizeh. We chartered a carriage, taking our lunch with us; and from the time we left Shepheard’s Hotel until we returned that hateful word, “Backsheesh,” resounded in our ears; indeed, I should say that there is no word in the Egyptian language so frequently on the tip of an Arab tongue as that. I should suppose that the pyramids of Gizeh are about ten miles from Cairo. There is a pretty good road, which was constructed by the former Khedive, Ismail, specially to accommodate the Prince of Wales when he visited the place some years