We visited only three of the tombs; they were just a series of large, square chambers hewn out of the living rock and their wall-paintings had little of the beauty of those at Sakkara which had been made many centuries earlier. In the old days Egypt was divided into thirty names or provinces and Beni Hassan was the capital of the Gazelle Nome. The best-preserved tomb there is that of one, Kheti, who lived during the Middle Kingdom, about 2100 B.C, and was the monarch or governor of the nome. The next most interesting is the somewhat larger one of a Prince Khnem-hotep which has among its paintings a representation of the migration of Asiatic tribes into Egypt. Mahmoud told us that it was supposed to be Joseph and his brethren, but this idea has been exploded long ago; although it is the first known painting of beared Semites being received into the Land of the Pharaohs.
We lunched on board while sailing up the river and, at three o’clock in the afternoon, halted at Tel-el-Amarna where we were to go ashore again.
Here, on the east bank, the desert runs right up to the Nile and it is that which has saved the ancient city from complete destruction. All the other cities of the old civilisation were built in fertile regions so when they fell into decay the land was ploughed over or planted with palms, wiping out all trace of them entirely; but here there was no object in ploughing up a waterless, sandy waste and so after 3,000 years the lower walls of row upon row of the brick houses which formed the streets can still be seen.
There are the ruins of the palace, too, quite near the river bank, but apart from these relics of the long-dead city there is very little of interest to the casual traveller. Tel-el-Amarna does have, however, a very special interest for anybody who has read even a little about Egyptian history.
When the New Empire was at the height of its magnificence under the mighty XVIIIth Dynasty which ruled from the Sudan right across to Mesopotamia, a nobleman called Iuaa and his wife Thuau were responsible for altering Egypt’s destiny. They were not pure Egyptians but foreigners who had been ennobled and their daughter Ti became the queen of Amenophis III. When that Pharaoh died this foreign Queen and her parents brought up the new Pharaoh, her young son Amenophis IV, in strange doctrines.
She taught him that the Egyptians were wrong to worship many gods and that there was only one God who was the father not only of the Egyptians but of all peoples; and that he was represented in the solar disc which gave warmth and light to all. The young Pharaoh became a fanatical convert to his mother’s belief, changed his name to Akhen-aton, meaning ‘Beloved of the Sun’s Disc,’ ordered his people to observe the new religion and defied the mighty priesthood of the old gods in his capital of Thebes.
The history of Egypt for the next decade is the story of the so-called ‘Heretic’ Pharaoh’s struggle against the priests of Amen. It was on finding that he could not subdue them in his capital that he decided to build a new city for himself further down the river at Tel-el-Amarna.
Akhen-aton was certainly one of the great reformers of the world and many people have compared the religion he preached with Christianity, since its main tenets were love, simplicity and naturalness; although it differed from Christianity in its intense devotion to every form of beauty in this present life. Akhen-aton’s reign was not a long one but he left an indelible mark upon his country because he revolutionised art and favoured the faithful portrayal of all things in a natural manner as opposed to the conventionality and symbolism which had been enforced upon all Egyptian artists by the priesthood for centuries.
Having built his new city at Tel-el-Amarna with extraordinary speed he went there to live the life of a dreamer and philosopher; but, in the meantime, his great empire was falling into decay. He would give his generals no instructions for the defence of his cities in Palestine but talked to them only of brotherly love or kept them waiting for days in his antechambers refusing even to see them.
On his death he was succeeded by his young son, who had been brought up in his doctrine, but by that time the remnants of the Egyptian armies had been driven back into Egypt and the whole country was falling into chaos. The boy soon fell under the power of the old priesthood who took him back to Thebes and rechristened him Tutankhamen; but his reign was short and while still in his teens he was buried in the now world-famous tomb. The ‘heretical’ doctrines had meanwhile been suppressed; an able general called Horemheb became the next Pharaoh, founded the XIXth Dynasty and drove out the Semitic invaders; but Egypt never recovered the rich cities and great territories in Asia that had been lost to her by the dreamer Akhan-aton.
Oonas and I secured a couple of strong-looking donkeys, drove off the local beggars and rode through the palms fringing the top of the river-bank to the ruins of the ‘Heretic’ Pharaoh’s palace. From this point we could survey the whole site of the dead city, which occupies a wide, flat area broker only by rows and rows of low mounds where the buildings used to be, and is ringed in by a horse-shoe of hills the centre of which was about five miles distant.
Mahmoud was rallying his party to ride right across the plain to inspect some rock tombs in the hills, but we were sick both of his patter and the crowd so, having talked it over, we decided it would be much more fun to visit Akhen-aton’s own tomb, which lies a mile or two further inland. In the light of later events I feel sure it must have been Oonas who first made this suggestion but she put it so skilfully that, at the time, I was quite under the impression it was my own idea.
As the crowd trotted off after Mahmoud accompanied by ninety-eight per cent of the male population of the village we turned aside and, producing some piastres, I asked Oonas to bribe our donkey boys to leave us to our own devices. She spoke to them in Arabic and with broad grins on their faces they took the money, pointed out the way and stood aside while we cantered off together.
The track to Akhen-aton’s tomb passes through a gap in the hills, then follows a shallow wady. Even in the strong sunlight it was a little eerie there, as once we had left the native village behind us there was no sign whatever of the hand of man and we might have been a hundred miles from any human habitation; but the rocks on either side were full of colour while here and there were patches of tiny desert daisies and dwarf shrubs which manage to exist in some waste places entirely without water except the little they can absorb from the nightly dew.
The way was longer than I had thought and although our animals were game little beasts we had to walk them most of the way, so it must have been a good hour-and-a-quarter from the time we left the river bank before we reached our destination.
A solitary mud-walled dwelling, which had round the edge of its roof a decorative row of things like inverted waterjars which are used for nesting pigeons, stood about a hundred yards from the iron gates of the tomb. A tousled-haired girl who was making bread outside it brushed the crawling flies from her eyes and went in to get her father. He was a villainous-looking fellow and emerged carrying an ancient fowling-piece, perhaps as a symbol of his tomb-guardianship, but having begged a cigarette he accompanied us to the tomb and unlocked it. We tethered the donkeys to a rock and went inside.
The tomb was hardly worth a visit except for the fact that it once contained the remains of a man who started a new religion and still makes his personality felt through the artistic revolution which he brought about, whereas countless other monarchs who reigned centuries after him have passed into complete oblivion.
The wall-paintings were not in very good repair and they did not consist of portraits of the Pharaoh making offerings to a long line of gods and goddesses, as is usual in the tombs of the Egyptian Kings. Instead there were numerous representations of the sun’s disc with rays in the form of straight lines radiating from it, each of which had a hand at its end, symbolising the light and life given by the sun to the Pharaoh, his family and all living things. When we got outside I tipped the tomb-guardian and he went off to his hovel. Then, as on looking at my watch I found that time was getting on, I said I thought we ought to start back right away.
Oonas did not sha
re my view. She said that it was barely half-past four and that as the boat was only going up to Bern Mohammed to anchor for the night, after leaving Tel-el-Amarna, she saw no reason why we should hurry.
‘It will take us an hour and a quarter to ride back,’ I said, ‘so we won’t make it much before six. I doubt if the party will remain ashore for more than three hours so we’ll only just do it by leaving now, as it is.’
‘Are you afraid that the boat will sail without us?’
‘Oh, no,’ I smiled. ‘However late we are it won’t do that. They may think we’ve got lost and send out a search-party from the village, but it would be as much as the Purser’s job is worth to leave two of his passengers marooned in a place like Tel-el-Amarna.’
‘Well, then,’ she pouted. ‘What are you worrying about? The ride has tired me. You are unkind and have no consideration. I must rest a little before I mount that silly animal again.’
‘It isn’t that I want to hurry you in the least,’ I assured her. ‘But if the ship is due to sail at six and has to wait for us, think of the tittle-tattle it’s bound to cause among the passengers.’
‘If it is that you are frightened of, you’d better go back alone,’ she shrugged. ‘I can find my way without you.’
‘As though I care what those stuffy people say about me! They are only a stupid rabble. But I waste my breath in arguing with you. It is obvious that you must be tired of my company since you are in such a hurry to get back on board.’
‘Now, really!’ I protested. ‘That’s utter nonsense and you know it.’
‘Well then, forget the stupid ship and let me rest for a little while. My poor legs are absolutely giving under me. Come and sit down here.’
I will confess that I did not really need very much persuasion. She looked such a forlorn little figure standing there in the silent, deserted valley and her face was quite adorable under her dark, curling hair. What did it matter if the ship’s departure were to be delayed for a little and we were to provide a crowd of people in whom we had not the least interest with matter for a mild scandal?
‘As long as you’re game to stay here, I am,’ I smiled as she sat down in front of a big boulder. ‘But I don’t think your back can be very comfortable against that rock. Wouldn’t it be nicer for you it you leaned against my shoulder?’
Suiting the action to the word I put my arm round her and she nestled her head down on my chest.
‘No biting this time,’ I said softly.
She laughed. ‘You must take your chance of that.’
I took it, with results extremely satisfactory to all concerned, and we snuggled down together warmly embraced in the loose, soft sand.
How long we remained like that I don’t really know; however long it was the time was all too short, because Oonas and I were no novices at the delightful game we were playing and, within limits, she let me love her to my heart’s content. It is a game that cannot be played indefinitely when there is a limit, though; and it was she who broke the party up by saying:
‘We’ve lots of time before us, darling, and I’m afraid I’m a little too sophisticated to be quite contented with a bed of sand. I think we ought to get back to the village and that wretched ship.’
We kissed again and, standing up, shook the sand out of our clothes, mounted our donkeys and rode back down the valley. The time had passed quickly as it always does on such occasions and although we hurried our donkeys as much as we could, before we got back the sun was beginning to set.
I knew that by this time the Purser must be cursing us wholeheartedly and visualised the gossip-avid passengers lining the rail as they watched for our return; but there was one thing I had not bargained for. When we reached the palm-fringed bank above the place where we had come ashore the ship was no longer there.
16
Old Nick’s Own Daughter
I knew well enough that we were shockingly late and had no valid excuse to offer; although with Oonas’ shapely arms round my neck I would not have been human if I had insisted on breaking up our party at the tomb earlier. But that was not the point. For all the Purser and that facetious fool Mahmoud could know we might be lost somewhere out in the desert, with night approaching. They were responsible for us and it was positively disgraceful that they should have gone off like this. I could only imagine that it was sheer slackness and that they believed we had come aboard with the other passengers. Fuming with rage I considered the position. The ship was due to anchor that evening at Beni Mohammed and although I had no map with me to check the distance I was under the impression that it was a good thirty miles upstream. How to get back on board that night presented the devil of a problem.
‘We’re in a proper mess!’ I exclaimed as we brought our perspiring donkeys to a halt on the outskirts of the village.
To my surprise Oonas suddenly laughed.
I turned in my saddle and looked at her. ‘It’s all very well, but being stranded here is no joke. If this were a bigger place we could hire a motor-boat and catch them up, but you can see for yourself that there are only a couple of sailing-craft down by the river. We could get across in one of those and the railway’s probably not more than two or three miles inland from the other bank; that’s about our only hope.’
She shook her head. ‘No good, my dear. All we could do on donkeys would be to reach some local halt and trains only stop at such places once a day, at most.’
‘In that case we won’t be able to get back to the ship until tomorrow at the earliest. I’m afraid your reputation will be in ribbons by that time.’
‘How nice of you to be so worried for me; but you have no need to be. I do not care two hoots what those people think.’
Her indifference to possible scandal certainly made things easier for me but, all the same, I was far from being happy about the turn things had taken. I make no pretence whatever to being a saint and, seeing the way things were shaping between us, I was perfectly capable of having deliberately planned that we should miss the ship but, now that it had happened fortuitously, I had a curious feeling of responsibility for her. I think she almost read my thoughts, as she went on with a wicked little smile:
It doesn’t seem to have occurred to you that most men would consider themselves extremely lucky at having to spend a night on shore alone with me. This little adventure might prove rather fun, you know.’
Not wishing to appear a prude. I hid these strange reactions, which puzzled even myself, by protesting quickly: ‘My dear, it’s the sort of thing I would have given my eyes for if we hadn’t landed up in this miserable little dorp. I’m sure you don’t like fleas and lice any more than I do. What I’m really worrying about is where we can spend the night.’
She shrugged and cast a glance at the village, which consisted of no more than a score of native hutments:
‘Allah will provide.’
A crowd of men and boys were already hurrying towards us and Oonas questioned them as they came running up. The ship had waited for an hour past its proper time of departure but when we had failed to return the Purser had left a message with the local Sheik to say that if we were not back by sundown a party was to be sent out to find us. He had asked him to express his regret at having to leave us behind and say that he dared not delay the sailing of the ship any longer; otherwise she would not be able to get into her proper anchorage at Beni Mohammed before dark. That was a reason for his sailing I had not thought of and, of course, it was the passengers’ responsibility to get back at the proper time after each excursion.
The Sheik, an old man with a friendly twinkle in his rheumy eyes, came hobbling up with the aid of a long stick, and I asked Oonas to enquire from him about the possibility of trains; but it seemed that her gloomy forebodings were justified. The nearest halt on the far side of the river was a place called Deir Mowas but trains only stopped at it three times a week. A south-bound train was due the following morning but until then we were stuck.
He had, however, one cheering piece
of news for us. Oonas’ maid had left the ship just before it sailed and was now in the village with her mistress’ luggage. We asked the Sheik what accommodation there was to be had and the none-too-clean old man placed his house at our disposal with the lordly courtesy of one offering a palace.
Dismounting from our donkeys we followed him along the bank and through the mud-walled village, accompanied by the entire population of screaming children and ragged fellaheen, while black-clad, veiled women peered curiously at us from the low doorways of the houses. Oonas’ maid met us in a sort of lane, which could certainly not be dignified by the name of street but seemed the only thoroughfare between two groups of hovels. She was a quiet, colourless female—probably Syrian—and, although I had seen her about, I had hardly noticed her during the time on the ship, yet she evidently had her wits about her as, in addition to bringing off Oonas’ luggage, she had made my steward put a few things in a bag for me when she had learnt that the ship was sailing with out us.
The Sheik’s house, when we reached it, proved to be a single-storeyed building and, as far as I could judge, it only contained two rooms. The outer one was full of women but the Shiek drove them out with kicks and curses while we sat down on the rush mats which covered the floor. The place stank abominably of goats and was littered with filth of every description. What the inner room was like I did not see but I was already convinced that to spend a night anywhere in that hovel would be absolute torture.
Coffee was served to us and while we drank it Oonas and the Sheik carried on a leisurely conversation. I did not pay much attention but presently I caught the word ‘tents’ and almost immediately afterwards Oonas turned to me.
The Quest of Julian Day Page 25