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PAINTER "" ' ^' ..•'•■> ^s^ ...- .> S-.^ .■■■■■■ / -— V- V^'-^S; n -> < Kamak— Sphinx Avenue 62 Temple of Khons — Theban Plain - - - 65^ Colossi of Memnon 67 ^ The Ramesseum 68 ^ The Valley of the Tombs of the Kings - - - 73 -^ The Creaking Water Wheels - - - - 76 The Temple of Der-el-Bahari — Theban Plain - - 78 Hathor— Found Near the Temple of Der-el-Bahari - 79 The Ramesseum — The Fallen Statue of Rameses the Great 80 Panorama of Medinet Abu Temple - - - 82 Temple of Medinet Abu (Interior) - - - - 85 Temple of Edfu 87 Temple of Kom Ombos - - - - - 90 Temple of Isis — Philae 95 Islands and Palms Submerged 96 Through the Portal of the Temple of Isis— Philae 98' The Kiosk 100 Pharaoh's Throne (Great Rock) - - - - 1 05' Rock Temple of Abu Simbal (Exterior) - - - 106 Rock Temple of Abu Simbal (Interior) - - 1 08 • The River's Unhewn Temples — Near Assuan - - 1 1 0' Kiosk-Philae- Adieu 113 Over the Golden Sands in Golden Nubia They March 114^ Sugar Cane Carriers — The Desert - - - - 1 1 6 Temple of Isis— Philae 118 Cleopatra 1 20 CONTENTS The Nile 1 The Pyramids 11 The Sphinx 17 From Temple to Temple - - - - - 23 Abydos 35 Temple of Hathor 41 The Temple of Luxor 47 Kamak and the Theban Plain - - - - 55 The Colossi of Memnon - - - - - 67 The Valley of the Tombs of the Kings - - 73 Esna — EAiu — Kom Ombos - - - - 87 Philas 95 The Rock Temples of Abu Simbal - - - 105 Adieu 113 APPENDIX The Poem of Pentaur 125 Chronological Table 137 Of this edition of Under Egypt's Skies, written by Lydia Ethel F. Painter, two hundred and fifty copies were privately printed for her son Kenyon V. Painter, and of them this is number / / ^ THE NILE THE NILE T is easy to become an enthusia^ic devotee at the shrines of the centuries-gone, and doubtless the traveler's experiences are in every land beauty-enhanced by his imaginative ability to reconSrud the broken, the defaced, to raise them up from Time's disgrace and vv^rap them round with an ideal grace. If it is to Egypt the seeker of these shrines takes his way, he will everywhere feel the atmosphere of "a mighty pa^" enveloping him, everywhere the hi^ory of that paft confronting him. In marvelous attitudes of wonder and intereS and beauty ^and the roofless temple walls, the heaven-high pyramids, the hieroglyphiced obelisks; and none of these fit into the world's uniform niches of wonders. In colossal proportions they rise on the confines of a great desert, have the flow of a great river washing their base, and the rainless blue of earth's moS splendid skies to preserve them. The shrines of Egypt lie along the one great artery of her life, The Nile, the charm of which is not easily defined. "It flows through old, hushed Egypt and its sands Like some grave mighty thought treading a dream. " I UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES There is no que^ion as to what lends itself to the enhancement of the beauty of the rivers of the green world. The Tiber, the Rhine, and the Tweed break through and make piduresque the fore^-crowned hills of their countries. Poets and Nature-lovers have sung of their individual charms, have hung their ruined caSle walls with perennial romantic legend, and their hi^orians have made record of wars that dyed their waters crimson. Nor is there queftion wherein lies the charm of the countless small rivers of the world, that leading through meadow and wildwood decoy us into haunts where the little folk of the wilderness make the " Paradise enow." These all bear on their flood an aroma of a paft familiar in kinship. But how define the allurements of Egypt's river, coming from its my^erious source without any weave of Nature's familiar charms about it; flowing murmurless through desert sands paS treeless heights; murmerless and mirthless its more than thousand miles to the sea? How define the curious and wholly my^erious charm of Egypt's river? It is the sky, the sun, the sands and the atmosphere that mufl answer; they are the wonder workers in the land of the Nile, they the achievers of a beauty unique and incomparable, the transmuters of the day's splendors from one phase of glory to another. One other ally only have these, that triumph of green which, down at the delta, begins with a wide spread to EaS and We^ and gradually narrowing accompanies the Nile far into the South, everywhere a 2 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES triumph of color, everywhere fresher than the green of any other land, everywhere its living emerald outlining the dull, solemn river's flow. If a bird's-eye view could be had of this thousand miles of pyramidal green biseded by the tiny water-ways that keep its life fresh, its edges seamed and marked by the spurs from the in-running hills, its green varied only by the shifting cloud shadows, that view would help the Nile to voice its centuries-old Sory of wonder and of charm. Back from the river, beyond the green of the fertile lands, lie the golden sphinx-like hills, — these that make a background for temples, a hiding place for tombs, Egj^st's imperishable mile-ilones along her life- way. So closely neighbored is the green and gold of the Nile land that, at beil, the fields look not greater than so many unrolled prayer rugs into whose cool freshness the children of the soil press their sweating brows, their lips repeating the cry of their fathers'-" Allah!" "Allah!" Along the Nile between Cairo and Assuan there is a monotony of ^eepish shelving banks with a level of maize and clover, of doora, palm groves and mud villages; of waterwheels turned by blind-folded oxen, of shaduf men, models in bronze they might be, tossing the water from level to level; while again^ the sky and beyond all these there crosses the plain and skirts the hills the ever piduresque camel trains. However unattradive, ^rangely out of date these creatures look in other lands, in Egypt they have a 3 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES lineage, have centuries of ance^ors that were sovereigns of desert and plain. How well they seem to know it and show it; for whether they are swinging along with unbridled ease or swaying beneath burdens, theirs is the manner of impatient patience, a certain lofty haughtiness that agrees wondrous well with their makers' proud claim "from Pharaoh descended are we." It is slowly that the features of the Nile's banks change and yet long before the thousand miles of voyaging is finished the change is so complete that only the ever-lessening green of the fields, the faithful palms, and the women with their water jars remain in likeness. A lovely pidture these women make coming and going between their homes and the river, bearing in classic poise upon their heads or shoulders the sun-baked water jars. With movement as pidturesquely graceful as the coarse blue garment that falls loosely to their feet, these women go more than ankle deep into the river to fill their jars; each helps each to lift them, each follows each in slow defile through the clover paths and feathery tamarisk. Much gentleness of movement, much quietness of speech seem natural to the women of Egypt. Why? These who come and go are young, and are living under skies that are an inspiration and a joy to older hearts than theirs. Is it that the Mohammedan veil has the power to suppress the spirit as well as conceal the features? The unveiled woman, from her dahabeyah's deck, looks at and loves the pidture; and if 4 .v« UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES she wonders why these daughters of the Nile so long forego that dowery of freedom, which is the Chri^ian woman's boa^, she is yet glad, — oh, selfish lover of the piduresque — that the Nile has not lo^ this "type Of life — 'twixt blue and blue" — It is when the low banks of the river begin to be broken by sandstone ledges and these rise into semi-mountainous cliffs that the glowing sands of the desert come gloriously into the picfture. Findmg lodgment among the ^ony ledges they end in overlaying them with golden drifts deep and billowy, smooth and fine as wind-swept snow. The beauty of the hills of the green world has its rival in the beauty of these golden hills of Egypt. Of kith and kin are these golden hills to the great Saharah, have come from it on the wings of that wind which, with burning fervor sings always its inimitable love song, — "From the desert I come to thee" ***** nor will cease to sing it, neither cease to pile its gold into these glowing mountain heights, "'Til the sun grows cold. And the ^ars are old. And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold!" A splendid heritage are these hills of gold to the old river, no other compares to it. Nearing Nubia a new beauty emerges from the gray water but the hills of gold remain. Black gli^ening rocks begin to lift 5 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES themselves from the Nile's bed, introducing a sort of rock-splendor, which grows and greatens, and culminates in utmoil arti^ic grace about the long, sinewy island of Elephantine. Islanded mid-^ream, piled into splendid heights at the desert's edge these unhewn colossi make an almoft sublime feature, a ^atuesque sort of grandeur that is not equaled elsewhere on the Nile until there comes into view the mountainous rock ramparts that close in and about Abu Simbal. Before Science caught the Nile in its clutches at the Firft Cataradt, every lover of Egypt worshipped at the shrine of beautiful Philae. What now? What but mourn the forever perished features of "A queen that out-luitered every other!" It was when science tied together the Eaft and Weft banks with a gigantic knot of gray ftone and fteel that the wild, free rush of the waters was tamed, their joyousness ended, and like a thing in disgrace they recoiled and spoiled the beauty of idealic Philae. Alas! Beyond the Great Dam the cliffs, and mountainous heights grow in ftrength and boldness, advance to the river's very edge, increase in height, show openings into valleys attradive or desolate according to atmospheric effeds, these ever marvelous effeds of light and shadow. And these effeds do not belong to the day's light only or pass with the sun's going, for the moonlight is magical with its half-light; white, snow-Uke, changing 6 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES wholly the day's panorama by giving to it that smooth pure enamel-like glaze which transforms the black beauty of the granite rocks to a dew-like whiteness. With the changes in the natural features of the river, this transformation that comes with the passing of the day's light might be compared to that gentler countenance in the human that radiates from an awakened spirit. Certainly so supreme is the charm of the Egyptian night that it is a thing quite apart from the glory of the day. The Sun-god in his flaming morning chariot may drive the ^ar boats to their unseen harbors, but night by night they float back on to their blue sea again making perfed the calm and the softness and the sweet my^ery of the Egyptian night. It is part of the my^ery of these half-light transformations that broken columns and pylons are re^ored, the dethroned lifted up and the whole advance and recede of the brown, golden hills topped. In the uttermo^ silence they fall asleep in the lap of the desert plain. Somewhere among these sleeping hills, somewhere in the rock-^rewn channel of the river mu^ be hidden away, some long-sought chronicles — carved by the Nile god's hands. When found will they reach back more than the four thousand years whose chronicles we read with charm and wonder throughout the day-by-day on the Nile? It is worth much more than the climb to one of the rocky heights that come close to the Nile in 7 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Upper Egypt, to there watch the day wake from its solemn desert-night. It may prove to be a fteepish climb, for these mountains are rugged with ^one and sand interspersed, but the height once gained there Wretches a panorama such as imagination may not rival. "Precipitation," says an Arab proverb, "is from Satan, but patience is the key of contentment." There was no precipitation with Nature when with infinite patience she worked out for the Arab that splendid chain upon chain of hills that Wretches illimitably away to meet the morning sun of Lybia. These hills look to have been rolled by the winds through the deep brown sands, and doubled back and forth upon themselves like cre^s of golden waves, then suddenly transfixed in that my^ery which gives to tribe and tribe an interlocked Sronghold to which the marauding world may not penetrate. In the early morning light this va^ mountainous plain awakens slowly, slowly arises from its couch of sand, slowly are the broken features of the dull rock-ledges made visible through the atmosphere's soft haze. Far away where the sky and desert meet there comes from between them a pale pink light that very gently floats out, spreads as it rises until it is caught and shifted from ledge to ledge, spreads over the somberer valleys and, by some Grange necromancy, drawn down into them to come forth again in a new my^ery of 8 ■ Jl:^ '' ;:F." "g^; UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES color; violet, light, dark, — transfused with pink, with amber, — rich, mellow, all-enchanting until "Day! Fa^er and more fa^, O'er night's brim, day boils at la^; Boils pure gold, — * * * * * one wavelet, then another, curled Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed. Rose, reddened, and in its seething brea^ Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then over-flowed the world." ***** It is morning. The silent silence of the Egyptian night is done until "To-night" again! And so it is the whole Nile journey through, whether the desert hills are lo^ at evening in the white veiling light, or with the sun rise in triumph, there is always upon them the same witchery of light and shadow, of softness and freshness. Magic spells are ca^ over dull desert di^ances, desert wa^es wear a prismatic glow. Everywhere is an overflow of gold, a merging of criihsons and purples, of browns and blues, and the play of every dye of the bow through the silvery atmosphere completes the beauty mask. It would be an arti^ with a tremendous belief in his art who would essay to paint a pidure as daring in sapphire and turquoise and gold as is the light, morning and night, that falls from Egypt's skies. The very air 9 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES is suffused with the not-to-be-reproduced color, and the imagination could create no ideal that is not out-done by the real in a land where no hindrance is to the sun's giving effeds as manifold as magnificent. Every day he mounts a throne out-lu^ering every other; every day dispenses a light and warmth the quality of which permeates the dry pure air without eliminating its freshness, and night by night quits his throne with an entourage of splendor that leaves the heavens "Enwrought with golden and silver light; The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light." ***** The end of one day in the land of the Nile presages what the beginning of another is to be. Beauty and splendor fares forth every day. Nature is never cowering before impending ^orms, no day's clouds hold cavernous depths of darkness but send out between fold and fold fleecy cloudlets that become flamelets in their passing, and make all between the blue above and the gold beneath a very license of color! There is maize and topaz, saffron and orange, and in over-splendor to them all, those radiant purples that never lose their radiance, however pale and soft and mi^y; a very wonder-veil of beauty from Egypt's skies. 10 THE PYRAMIDS #^' THE PYRAMIDS VISIT to the Pyramids of Gizeh exercises the magic of its own peculiar spell. There they Sand those five thousand year old wonders, solemn, silent, familiar, unfamiliar; — Sand in colossal proportions undiminished, with a majeSy unsurpassed, their supremacy among pyramids unrivaled, now as always of the world's marvels. Nature has not written these colossal monuments over with grace notes, nor sent tender vines and gentle blooming things to cover their scarred and wounded sides. No bird circles in song about their high Sone terraces, nor do trees or verdant hills gather about them to break their sharp cut lines againS a limitless Sretch of sky. Softness and gentleness is not within their deSiny, in the Sars it was not so written, but the mySerious life of them goes on, — confronting on the one side a great silent desert world, on the other a greater noise-laden world of traffic; witness bearers they to both. It was with the coming in of the Ancient Empire (2500-2200 B. C.) that hiSory began a record of the powerful monarchs of the fourth dynaSy; Zoser, of the third d3maily, had already led the way in pyramid 11 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES building and left behind him the Step Pyramid at Sakkara. Snofru came to the throne with the fourth dynafty and built two pyramids, that of Medum and the great pyramid at Dashur, but he was to be followed by three greater builders — Cheops (Khufu), Khephren (Khafre) and Mencheres (Menkewre) — the builders of the three great Pyramids of Gizeh. Que^ions many have been asked and answers many made as to why these great monuments were built, and hi^ory has recorded the life of them. However the ponderous ^ones may have been cemented together with the very blood of the toiling slaves who laid them, there is no smaller ^ain of it now upon the whiteness that bums and gli^ens in the sunlight, or gleams with a snow-like softness in the light of the moon. Whether "it pays" the visitor to enter and to make the ascent of the Great Pyramid, is a que^ion not answered by visitors alike. Work is to be done in the accomplishment of either; but the visitor can hardly know the meaning of a visit to the Pyramids unless he achieves both the entrance to, and the ascent of, Cheops. There is Egyptian darkness and rifling air to be met in the narrow passageway and ^eep incline that leads from the small opening on Cheops' side to the dark tomb-chamber at the very heart, and a strain of muscle in the climb up the va^, rugged sides to that high top from whence earth seems to sink away and an endless expanse of sky draws near; but to 12 1&^ > UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES attain to this "glorious Place of Khufu" is to get a good idea of the position of some of Egypt's mile-^ones, pa^ and present, as they lie scattered near and far on the desert plain. Memphis — all that is left of her — is quietly sleeping under a di^ant canopy of palms, while between her and Cheops are ranged about the si^er groups of Zawiyet-El-Argan, of Abusir, of Sakkara, of Dashur and of Abu Roash; all of these held safe and fa^ in their sand chains are witness bearers to the once really great Necropolis of Memphis. Did this group of pyramids ^and on the plains of Gizeh their size would seem less important, and in size they would, by comparison, be less important, but off there where they measure their dimensions again^ the ru^y gold of sand hillocks, or loom up in shadowy opalescent masses againS the now softly, now brilliantly glowing sky, they look as important in size as they are venerable with age. For near seven hundred years had the purple mi^s fallen like a royal mantle about the six ^ony terraces of King Alta's pyramid at Sakkara before the "eternal house" in the heart of the Great Pyramid received its royal occupant. Or, to give to this patriarch among pyramids its full panoply of years, it had been crowned with two thousand of them before Abraham — Israel's patriarch — drove his flocks over the plains of Judah. But what matters the centuries older, the centuries younger 13 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES to the eyes that to-day see this olde^ pyramid through the same never-aging purple mi^? In their browns and their golds, in their blues and purples, and in their silver-white sheens the pyramids old, the pyramids new are all of one age — all wonderful alike, from the "glorious Place of Khufu"! So long as we Sand in the far upper air looking upon, "The whole circumference of that emptied sphere" — of Time, we forget to turn from the desert's side, with all the evidences of the old capital's greatness, to where in charming prospective lies again^ the golden background of the Mokattan Hills, Egypt's capital of to-day. The Nile coming from his wilderness-places in the far South carries pa^ the once "hundred gated" capital the white winged messengers of work and of pleasure even to Cairo's gates. We are unheedful of this pidture of To-day so long as the panorama of Yesterday keeps slowly unfolding again^ horizon's, hardly separable from the desert's, infinite gradations of color. It is true that there is much tomb-^rewn ground about Egypt's new capital; ground grim and flowerless as that which buries with the debris of violated graves the sandy plains of Sakkara. But these have a modern environment — a something foreign to the subtle spirit of Egypt's pa^ — and this the traveler is not searching for. Over and among the tombs of the modem Necropolis, scarabs may be 14 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES creeping and images of gods guarding, but there is now no pouring of libations of wine on the grave of some unfortunate Lady Atol to insure to her the smiles of that great sun-god who smiles so beneficiently, even to the outermo^ "rim of the world" on the desert side. There is one of the many mile-ftones, within "the circumference of that emptied sphere" — that lies lower down than any, measures less in comparison than any and yet is the greater among them. Who doubts this, that after seeing how far, far below the Giant Cheops lies the Sphinx, sees also how imperiously this ^rangely fashioned creature out-ranks the great in greatness! Only one of her kind in all the world; lowly placed; at the very foot^ool of the towering Cheops she is yet not lowly. Through the centuries of her life men have vied with each other in trying to find a name fitting, as title worthy — a something that would express more than— "The Sphinx!" and they will go on trying for what "Zeus has not yet revealed" — When the great Sun-god begins to take his way from off the top of the Pyramid of Cheops he will begin also to send the mighty shadow of its form across the plain toward Cairo. In solid darkness the shapely pyramidal form is impressed upon the green of the fields, elongates its deep dark shadow until, A thing more wondrous than the Sun-god's wondrous gold; 15 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES And what he shows not 'til his disk is buried half Within the yellow, shifting seas of sand — An outlined whole, — the Pyramid's great shadow on the land! And this shadow travels with slow diredness across the green fields toward Cairo until its extreme point touches to dimness the gold of the minarets of Mahomet Ali's mosque, to dimness the reds, the purples and the sapphires that have been burning along the ridges of the far-traveling Mokattan Hills, to utter darkness the solemn gray water, and then itself is gone like the magic thing it is. And this, has been the "phantom shadow-show" of the Great Pyramid for six thousand and more years! 16 THE SPHINX THE SPHINX [EMPLE^, pyramids and tombs are numberless and marvelous in this land, made by nature and man, the moS unique on the face of the earth. Its river is like to no other, its sands like to no other, its monuments like none, and its Sphinx the only one of its kind. The day by day, that makes the centuries, has seen men come "from the four comers of the earth" to walk about this ^rangeft of Egypt's monuments; to look, to que^ion and to wonder. Whose the conception, whose the skill to embody that conception, what the hi^ory, what the legends? — are que^ions that do not intrude themselves as one looks up into the ^ony eyes and to the sealed lips that have so long watched and guarded Time's my^eries. Since then, it is none of these things that present themselves, it is into the very heart of the desert, far away among its shifting wind-sculptures, among its hot, burning sun-glories and its softly gathered moonlights, that we would think to go to find this lonely creature — this one only of its kind. But it is close to the much traveled way that climbs from the plain to the base of the Pyramids of Gizeh, round 17 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES and pa^ these, down among the deep sand dunes, that this ^rangely fashioned one abides. Among these same engulfing sands the several smaller pyramids wear a look of helplessness — seem to have come in from some lo^ battle with their arch enemy on the plain, to seek protedion of the greater of their kind; but not so po^ured is the Sphinx. However low down in the valley, at the very foot^ool of the great Cheops, the Sphinx looks neither lowly nor helpless; neither shrinking from the full consumation of Fate's wor^. It is with head ered and back turned to the work of men's hands that this unconquered guarder of my^eries keeps To-day as Yefterday consort with the Unknown. Multilation has well nigh done its wor^ to de^ory features and efface colors; the eyes are broken, and yet there is no loss of vision in the calmness, and dignity, and the onlook of their far gaze. Not in the pa^ — but always into futurity these broken eyes are looking, — a look holding an expression not more easily defined than is that thing men feel when, for a moment, they believe themselves satisfied with defiiny be it what it may. What matters it then to this Sovereign of the Eternities whether the symbol of an earthly sovereignty re^s upon its brow or lies prone in the sand at its feet? Hidden behind the closed lips there is an abiding knowledge; half revealed in the broken eyes the supremacy of law. 18 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES All this is why the visitor to the Sphinx is regardless of its hi^ory and sees no likeness to any royal progenitor. Amenemhet III is forgotten, Rameses the Great forgotten, and the little temple beneath the all seeing forgotten, but the Sphinx will not forget the divine command — " — ^ay ever as thou art." ***** Kinglake wrote for many when after looking into the eyes of the Sphinx he there saw, felt, and recorded how, — "more wondrous and more awful than all else in the land of Egypt there sits the lonely Sphinx. Comely the creature is, but the comeliness is not of this world: the once worshipped bea^ as a deformity and a monger to this generation and yet you can see that those lips so thick and heavy, were fashioned according to some ancient mould of beauty now forgotten, — forgotten because that Greece drew forth Cytherea from the flashing foam of the yEgean, and in her image created new forms of beauty, and made it a law among men that the short and proudly wreathed lips should be for the sign and the main condition of loveHness through all generations to come. Yet ^ill there lives on in the race of those who were beautiful in the fashion of the elder world; and Chri^ian girls with Coptic blood will look on you with sad, serious gaze, and kiss your charitable hand with big pouting lips of the very Sphinx." And then, turning from the reason of our eyes' failure to recognize as a beauty-type these "big, pouting 19 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES lips," Kinglake goes on to write of the defacement of idols; and seeing how the defacements and mutilations of the Sphinx has failed to take from it one jot of myflery or changed one iota its unchangeableness, Kinglake records its claims to sovereignty thus, — "Upon ancient dynamics of Ethiopian and Egyptian kings, upon Greek and Roman, upon Arab and Ottoman conquerer, upon Napoleon dreaming of an EaSem Empire, upon battle and pestilence, upon ceaseless misery of the Egyptian race, upon keen-eyed travelers, — Heroditus yeSerday and Waburton to-day — upon all and more this unwordly Sphinx has watched, and watched like a Providence, with the same eameil eyes, and the same sad tranquil mien." * * * * * "You dare not mock at the Sphinx." Day by day the children of the desert and the Granger, come to crouch in the sand and look up into this creature's eyes; and night by night the Sars in cluSered groups watch for some sign. And ^ill no sign is given. The que^ioning ^ars withdraw, the morning breaks again, — again and yet again — to find The Sphinx enthroned as Ye^erday. The earth beneath is ever quiet, no throes of Nature more diSurbing than the winds. Ceaselessly these gather together the sands and toss them with playful violence into the ^ony eyes — ^ill no sign is given. The sands have no power to blind, neither to divert the limitless gaze. What see those eyes besides — 20 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES A long Wretch of desert sand, Sky, and sand again? Sky and sand, and then on every hand Silence! Time's secret keeping 'Spite the world's command. A long Wretch of sand and sky. Sky — and sand again — The while, down-crouching, — holding life gone by Silence! Time's secret guarding 'Gainit earth's low and high. 21 FROM TEMPLE TO TEMPLE FROM TEMPLE TO TEMPLE jOTWITHSTANDING that Egypt is possessed of so transcendent a share of sun-lit sky and air delicious, and palms, and the Nile bordered with surpassing green, it is impossible not to miss those features of natural beauty which are so all-enhancing ju^ over the Mediterranean under Italy's skies. Wooded hills, vine-hung glades, flower-barred terraces are the land's portion in Italy, while her ruins are run over in magnificent profusion with the fresh, clinging life of vines that in their very joyousness obliterate all traces of Time's defacement and confer an heritage of eternal youth. But in Eg)^t there is none of this, hers is the heritage of age. Did she ever wear the garlands of youth? or did a filet of vines ever bind the forehead of the Sphinx? When the ancient Romans invaded the land of the Nile it was not in sylvan pools they found the lotus blooming neither found they Arcadian groves and gardens lying in splendid rivalry as on Amo's banks, nor yet was it any familiar features that birred the Roman heart and woke in it a spirit of rivalry — woke it, but Egypt's temples remained unrivaled. 23 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES In lieu of Nature's familiar beauty Egypt offers near a thousand miles of temple ^rewn, temple crowned river banks. From the lone obelisk that ilands to mark the site of the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis — the city of the sun — in Lower Egypt, to the four colossi of the great Rameses that sit guarding the entrance to the rock-hewn Abu Simbal in Upper Egypt, there are the ruins of some forty temples, large and small, besides tombs countless and a wealth of broken ^atues. Night by night the voyager by dahabeyah — those white-winged birds of the Nile — lowers sail under shadow of these and day by day renews his wondering admiration. In a day that travelers are searching for old roads and making new ones, up and dovsm the earth, to discover that of the Exodus in Egypt would be an event indeed: but like the source of the Nile no search has brought it to light. Over that hi^oric road the wise Solomon, three centuries after the children of Israel had traveled it, mu^ have come to fetch his royal bride, "even into the City of David." And if the traveler of to-day is a Bible ^udent he will go, Bible in hand, into the shadow of that lone obelisk at Heliopolis, and turning to Genesis, will there read that it was a daughter of a prie^ of On— (Heliopolis) who was by Pharaoh given in marriage to Joseph. It might well have been this same priest of On — for the prices of The Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis were among the wise men of their day — who fir^ gathered together 24 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES the be^ traditionary knowledge of his times and supplementing it by Joseph's belief in a "one only God"; gave it to be the theme of an immortal hymn which was written by one of Egypt's sweet poetic singers. This poetic record found so secure a sandtuary that ages after, it came forth with all its classic purity fresh upon it — its te^imony significant. It was, says the poet, "The Unseen Hand" that drew an all-concealing curtain to let pass out upon the world's ^age and there to enter upon an earthly reign, seven great gods, who were in succession to bear the title "Lord of the thrones of the earth". Of this earthly reign of the gods the pilgrim from "Temple to Temple" will be con^antly reading, will con^antly be hearing the song of their virtues and their glories, con^antly be going back with them to that border land of mythology where there are no temples, gods or kings but from whence ^ill issues forth the old, old hymn to the Unseen — the one only God — "One and Alone" — This emergence upon the world's ^age, in Egypt, of seven great gods was followed by the building of great temples. Stone was waiting in the quarries of the South with which to build, and about these well-nigh imperishable altars the mighty seven, — Ptah, Ra, Sho, Seb, Osiris, Set, Horus, — would make good their high claim to the right "to set up an earthly kingdom". The royal curtain which had been lifted for their passing out upon a ^age of royal doing had fallen, and 25 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES with it also fell a darkly shadowing veil of mySery and tradition. Lo^ to Egypt was the sound of that psalm which familiarly phrased the world's greater ideal, and it was with incense and sacrifice, with victories, and feSivals of them, that the worship of these "lords of the thrones" was eftablished in "all the land of Egypt". It was then that the priefts arrayed the various gods in ve^ments prescribed by the sacred canons and made to them offerings— not to be numbered— of animals, of fruit, flowers, v^ne and oil; and burned incense before them — but the old hymn what of it? The prie^s if they ever knew, had forgotten the hymn which declared — " God is One and Alone, and there is none other with Him. God is the One, the One who has made all things. God is a Spirit, a hidden Spirit, the Spirit of Spirits, the great Spirit of Egypt, the divine Spirit". ***** Here, fair skin and bronze skin are alike back at Genesis and there acknowledging the unity and infinity of the "Fir^ of All" are ready to hear the whole ^ory over again, ready to watch again the " — magic Shadow Show, whose candle is the Sun — Round which we Phantom figures come and go". In the Temple of the Sun, at Heliopolis, very splendidly, very learnedly was this "magic Shadow 26 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Show" of the gods as ushered in by the favored seven, carried on through many ages by prices and kings who were alike the "lords of the thrones" of the world. Whether these allowed to be e^ablished or themselves e^ablished the worship of themselves in the place of their Sender-forth, the "One Alone", the result was to confer upon them godly honors and to Egypt that elaborate ritual of religion which, it is said, only the prices underwood. Certain it is, if this ritual was as complex as the relationships between the Egyptian deities with their many divisions and sub-divisions of attributes, it surely required a good degree of concentration as well as of consecration if the office of prie^hood was to be intelligently admini^ered. Making then, this Temple of the Sun the visitor's pylon-of-entrance to all the Nile temples, he notes — and it seems a delightful augury — that this celebrated temple from which so much knowledge eminated has been dedicated to the god of light — the great sun-god, Ra — and that he had here been represented with a human head, the seat of knowledge, but with the body of the sacred bull, symbol of ^rength superior to the human. There is something very splendid in the birthright of Ra, the sun-god, — who now reigns so indisputable at Heliopolis — and in the manner of his presentation. The legend runs the sky— Nu— was his father, and born of the glorious and eternal blue he sailed across it in his boat of life, a god-\iking making war upon the day's enemy, darkness; and 27 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES it was with the whole of the heavens for a background that he drove Apap from off the ea^em ramparts and rising in glory above them was hailed Ra Harmachis — god of the morning! On he went with ever increasing glory to the midday, on into the afternoon late, before his transformation into Tmu, radiant and resplendid! From thence he would pass into the myitery of re-creation, to the glory of a new day! God of the sky he was, it was natural he -should be of its color, and be so represented. Two long feathers he wore upon his head and in his hands he carried a key and a scepter, symbols of life and power. As Solar Deity he burned the truth of his life-giving power into the earth, forced gods and men to worship him, to believe that in him was every required attribute of power and lability and in him was the source of every other deity's attributes. Great was Ra then in all the Land of Egypt— Great now! Ruin at Heliopolis is complete, no column, no pylon to mark the ingress and egress of learned prie^s and their followers; one only of the two famous obelisks of Usertesen I, remain to bear witness that it was in celebration of the first fe^ival of Set that this king of "Upper and Lower Egypt, lord of diadems, son of the Sun, he whom the spirits of On love"— here raised the "red granite obelisks". The wild bees now sing their songs of labor about this one high shaft and deposit their honey among the hieroglyphic inscriptions. The Museum at Cairo, in^indt as it is with the 26 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES life of centuries of ye^erdays, has already familiarized the mind of the traveler with Egypt's treasures from the mo^ minute seeds of grain long hidden away in tombs, to the well nigh colossal objeds in ^one, once a part of temples and of tombs. And if it is the intent of any holiday visitor to become an amateur Egyptologi^ he could not begin his Indies more felicitously than in the truly wonderful Museum at Cairo. Here he may verify and enlarge any ^ock of knowledge he may possess by walking days and weeks together face to face with Egypt's sons and daughters, see samples of their handicraft, read their written-m-^one records, see their kings, gods and goddesses m wood or ^one imagery, and laSdy look into their mummied faces and read how "a thousand years is as a day". He will there become familiar with all the legendary hi^ory of the "North Land" and of the "South Land"; with the kings of the North wearing the red crown, the Hly for their symbol, the kings of the South wearing the white crown vv^th the papyrus for symbol; and see when that these two symbols were united, — as they were in Egypt's early hi^oric days, — they formed the arms of the empire. With this union went also that of the two crowns, giving to the wearer of the double tiara the title of "Lord of both Lands". FamiHar as will become the Museum's objedl lessons they will never become uninterefting. At Memphis the ruin is as complete as at 29 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Heliopolis. The "House of the Spirit of Ptah" is indeed gone. Not a gate by which to enter, not a sun-embalmed court in which to Hnger. Ptah, — "the lord of truth", chief of the immortal seven, father of all gods and of all men — where dwells he now? It was at Memphis that Menes, fir^ of Egypt's kings, took his seat upon Egypt's throne. Not a divinity but a man was this fir^ king Menes who in 5004 B. C. chose Memphis for his capital and established the fir^ of that long line of dyna^ies whose fate it was to meet the conquering Persians. Page upon page of hiflory unroll splendid and tragic Tories over the plain of Memphis, but to-day the Sun-god holds right to the only throne in this kingdom desolated — given over to ruin entire. It is not a bettered position that the preservers of Egypt's monuments have given to the itatue of Rameses that so long lay in a pidturesque half-burial under the palms. In a bed of sand, under the softening influence of the miniSering shade this mutilated ^atue was a pleasing feature in the ruined city of Ptah; but now even the palms seem to join in the Granger's indifferent curiosity as they look down upon the hard ^one effigy. The Necropolis of Memphis, far outranks in intere^ the ruins of the once proud city. The deep sand paths lead into a very world of tombs and then, through the highways and byways of the sandy desert sea, to where the rock-hewn subterranean Apis Tombs open hke a my^erious cave. 30 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Here it is that the traveler gets a very real idea of the important place held by the sacred Apis in the worship of the ancient Egyptian; and possibly it is because in the sight of his ow^n eyes, the traveler here for the fir^ time verifies the truth of all that has been so often written of the marvelously Grange tombs of Egypt, that these Apis tombs will continue to hold no secondary place in his memory, however they may come to be outranked in Sepulcheral Art, and in intere^. There is a long day of donkey riding hereabouts before "Tmu" goes down in the glory of his evening light behind the desert's golden di^ances. From the top of the Great Pyramid the traveler has looked upon the "vapor-belted pyramids" of Memphis and her Necropolis; upon the mosques and minarets of exquisite grace at Cairo; upon the golden Mokattan Hills and the more golden Lybian desert, these, all have been made a fit preparation for the thousand miles of Nile voyaging; and Memphis the old capital, with Cairo the new, is loil to sight. The Nile voyage proper is entered on. The river leads the way into the South, and on her banks near,— or farther desert-ward — the ruins of Egypt's temples begin to appear wdth their traditions and — "inventions ***** Down the pa^ ages, mu^ know more than this age! Leave we the web its dimensions!" 31 ABYDOS ABYDOS HERE is no description of the wondrously decorated walls of Egypt's temples that can possibly convey an idea of the impression they make upon an appreciator of Egyptian Art. If it is not all good— far from it — in almo^ every temple there are some vv^alls or bits of vs^all, whereon the subjedts are portrayed with truly great arti^ic skill, and along the walls of Seti's temple are some of these. To Osiris, he of titles out-numbering those of the Sun-god, was given a prenatal marriage with his si^er Isis. They were the children of Nut, the heaven, and of Seb, the earth, and were the parents of Horus, the "young sun". These three made the trinity at ancient Abydos and were there worshipped with great religious fervor; Osiris always retaining his supremacy, though under the New Empire ( 1600- 1 100 B. C.) Ptah, Harmachis, and Ammon were also worshipped at "Ancient Abydos", which was watched over by the great lord of the under-world, by the beautiful Isis, and the resplendant young Horus, and that "ancient Abydos" was the Mecca of Osiris worshippers, the guarder of his tomb. And not only the Mecca of worshippers was the Temple of Osiris, but 35 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES his tomb was the Mecca of the dead. Buried close about were the specially fortunate while the mummies of the less fortunate were brought from diSant parts of the Empire to receive a burial consecration before being carried away to their own tombs. For these, in leaving, memorial itone— ^ela — were set up to insure to each soul the god's remembrance. This ^ela made, moreover, a something like a place of re^ for the soul, from whence it could the easier continue its journey through the opening of that gorge which led on to the solar barge, — a barge very generally represented on the walls of temples and tombs. In the Museum at Cairo are many of the Abydos funeral ^elae, which, as has been well explained, differ from the ^elae of the Memphite period in that the gods, together with the table of offerings and emblems symbolic of the future life, were given representation. The two-winged solar disk so often seen on ^elae, and elsewhere, mu^ have been a happy addition to the funereal symbolism, helping the bereaved to see how the bird-soul could not be imprisoned in a tomb but with wide spread wings went forth in glorious flight to follow the Sun in its course, nor losing sight of the great god night or day. Not less intere^ing is the symbolism of the two eyes — the sun and the moon — light always, day and night again, no hour of darkness to the soul, and in so far it knew heaven. Other symbols, and many, express the belief of the old Egyptian in the liberty of the soul 36 -nrff UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES once it was set free from the body. Through the universe it might roam, borne on its own wide wings, or over the waters, girdling the earth it might sail, embarked in the Sun-barge; on, on, ever with the Sun god in his splendid goings, ever under the care of divine protedors, ever free to partake of fruit and wine and all good things, placed by the hands of love within the body's tomb or at some memorial place, — as at Abydos, where the memorial ^ones were set up in such countless numbers. Notwith^anding so large a share of Egypt's antique treasures have been gathered up and ^ored safely in Museums, it is left to the traveler to go to her unmovable shrines and there find them, prone m the sand maybe, as is the shrine of Osiris at Abydos. Defacement has not obliterated from temple walls records entru^ed to them, and at Abydos the terse record of the twenty-five hundred years of life of Seti's temple reads, — "Built by Seti I, completed by Rameses II, excavated by Mariette Bey!" Every traveler feels grateful to Mariette Bey! — At Abydos he is to note how in both ground plan and its arrangement this temple differs from others. Not one sanduary but seven, not one chamber placed one behind another but side by side, and not one portal but seven, each leading into one of the seven divisions. Ranged in double pairs across the fir^ Hypo^yle Hall are the twenty-four columns with their very beautiful papyrus-bud capitals. These flanked the processional aisles 37 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES dedicated to six gods and the king. There had been under the New Empire (l 600-1 100 B. C.) another triad of deities added to that of Osiris, Isis, Horus, for worship at Abydos, and though Seti and Rameses dedicated their temples to Osiris they eftabhshed the worship of Ptah, Harmachis, and Ammon; and in the Seti temple it was to Ammon that the central processional aisle was dedicated, with the triad of Abydos, occupying the three on his right; Harmachis, Ptah and the King the three on his left. Beyond the fir^ Hypoftyle is the second, larger but with the same arrangement of its thirty-six columns and with the same processional arrangement of aisles leading on and into the innermoS chambers. In all the seven sanduaries dedicated to this double triad — and the king — there is the sacred boat; the reliefs on the various walls are extremely well done, especially the profiles of Rameses. Near by this heSi. preserved of the Abydos' ruins, is all that is left of what is believed to have been Rameses' moft beautiful temple. Not for size was it remarkable but for the fine materials he chose for it. Black and red granite, alaba^er, the fine^ of lime^one; the reliefs done with the utmo^ delicacy and the coloring of the mural decorations so brilliant that they ^ill hold their beauty. What a climate is this, that when all the walls are roofless they wear their color undimmed through the centuries, their tracings unbroken by fro^, unharmed by rain. 38 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES The remnants of these two temples built by father and son — Seti I and the great Rameses— sugge^ by their close proximity to each other that these monarchs united, upheld the entire — every form of — the Egyptian religion; and indicate the close and friendly bonds between a father and son whose joint reign covered a period of near eighty years. There are many descriptions of Seti's appearance; men see him to-day lying in royal mummied-^ate in the Museum of Cairo and it is agreed that calm and pleasing as is the expression of his face there are lines that reach through the boldly vigorous to a ruthless tyranny. However this may be, he had himself represented as an ardent worshipper and granter of favors to all the temple-shrines; and mo^ royally were his gifts showered upon the pre-eminent Ammon-Ra, Isis, Horus, Osiris and Hathor in the Abydos temple. Beginning with Abydos the traveler learns that however one temple plan my differ from, or bear resemblance to another, yet in each the ruinous ^ate so differs that the features of each look unfamiliar, need re-adju^ment before they take their proper place in acquaintance. Another feature wholly unique among the ruins of the ancient temples of Egypt is that Seti's temple ^ill wears its roof, ^ill shuts out the light from skies that everywhere is an augmenter of beauty often a creator of all of it that there is. From out these never somber, never threatening 39 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES skies come the midday's blue, the scarlet, the gold and the purples; all these that create seas of lilac in which swim the Sar-barges of Egypt's skies and under which the traveler waits for the morning to disclose to him the ruins of the temple of Hathor at Dendera. 40 TEMPLE OF HATHOR TEMPLE OF HATHOR ?HOUGH Dendera was not venerated as was Abydos and Thebes, ma^erpieces of the Pharaohs, of the Ptolomies, of the Caesars, are here in splendid profusion. Among these the despoilers did merciless work. The thousand feet of wall, the beautiful temple, pylon, crypt, all — all offered insufficient resi^ance, and whether mutely or not, succumbed in their beauty and ^rength alike to the deSroyer. From the numberless columns the goddess of love and joy — (Hathor, the Egyptian Aphrodite) — had watched the magnificent processions pass to and fro in worship of, and honor to her. Her treasure-crypt she had seen filled with the spoils of war, through ages far anti-dating that fir^ century B. C. in which this la^ temple was dedicated to her. She had seen all, all that her devotees could do to enthrone her in the mid^ of unsurpassed splendor and, alas, she had seen all her despoilers could do to dethrone her. Once this "Lady of Beauty" looked down from every column's capital upon the infinite multitude of ibis-headed, hawk-headed, cow-headed deities that from their thrones, upon the column's sides, raised 41 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES toward her numerous and my^erious emblems; or joined the ceremonious processions through the incense perfumed air. Once the portrayal of all this was beautiful in its sculptured detail upon these fine columns; now we see it with a grievous defacement upon it, not a face within arm's reach and much other detail marred, and yet well preserved is the temple in general. To compare this Temple of Hathor with its si^er temples of Abydos and great Kamak is to find it lacking in size and magnificence, but in splendid symmetry and dignified proportions it is worthy the admiration it once elicited; and if the hieroglyphic work lacks a finish in execution; it is truly marvelous in mass. Like a great volume, page by page closely written, are the walls, columns, and ceiling; everywhere hi^ory of every kind. From the blackened ceilings there dimly emerge winged globes, scarabasi; and emblems of the zodiac; from the walls and columns bird and bea^ show their share in man's e^ate. From kingly conqueror to the-captured-in-war, the chronicles go on to give a li^ of cities, longer li^s of treasure; of weights, measures and receipts; of rites and feftivals, prayers and legend; and however well we learn to read all this hi^ory, ^rangeness and myftery are not lessened by any of these records, neither is the wonder with which we take our way through corridors, aisles, halls, birthrooms and sacri^ies. Within this temple of the goddess of love and joy, it is easy for imagination to set the once-divine images upon their 42 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES broken shrines. There awaits the small sanduary of the beautiful Isis; — and she? — The oratory of Hathor— darken of sanduaries and "Holy of Holies"— is where the king might in solemn commune with Deity, lift and veil the golden Si^rum of the goddess, carry it from its shrine and re-enshrine it in one of the sacred boats. Outside is the lovely Hathor-columned Kiosque, where was begun the rites of the New Year's fe^ival celebration. In kingly and prie^ly order with ^andard bearers and chant of hymns, the my^erious procession went the temple rounds; and then, that the goddess might feel the glow of the great Sun-god's love for his daughter, the long procession ascended to the roof: proof this, that these great ones knew how to value the greater among them — their Sun-god. On the dark walls of this dark fairway by which the goddess ascended to the temple roof, the beauty of the sculptor's work is intad, the darkness doubtless shielding it from the general defacement; and as no other mischances of time have come to despoil it, that Grange royal procession has lo^ none of its pri^ine freshness. Other Hathor shrines are to be seen from the various levels of the temple roof, other shrines to be visited; some buried in rubbish, some lying half revealed in sand and debris. In looking at the much-commented on portrait of Cleopatra and her son Caesarion, that is here so well 43 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES sculptured, the traveler is glad to believe it is no likeness of the "fair Macedonian". Were it, hiSory has misled our imagination. From the temple roof to which the goddess ascended to feel the glow of the great Sun-god's love, her eyes muSt often have watched the old river taking its processional way to the sea. Was it less solemn then when it gave back in unbroken beauty the refledion of temple and temple shrine— at Dendera? 44 THE TEMPLE OF LUXOR THE TEMPLE OF LUXOR "Even things without life giving a voice." jUT on the Nile the winged boats are transformed from their gull-like whiteness to an amber hue and the breeze turns the fluttering canvas to a something soft like plumage. To north and south where there are no dark cliffs threatening to close the river's passage, no clouds in the sky threatening to cut the evening glory off, the light gathers and greatens. Toward the sunset the breeze lifts the leaves of the clu^ered palms to let it pass adown the river from whence comes back that effulgent glory, that unsurpassed beauty, the sunset's afterglow. It was in the unsurpassed beauty of a sunset's afterglow, that we for the fir^ time saw ^landing high on the ea^ bank of the Nile the Temple of Luxor. Only a pidured page onto which had been poured the liquid light and color of Egypt's skies would worthily portray the quite idealic beauty of those splendid roofless columns that come almo^ trooping over the Nile's high bank to meet the voyageur. The ruins on the Theban plain ^and 47 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES aloof, far back toward the golden mountains, but the lovely ruins of the Luxor temple are as gracious as grateful in greeting. That fir^ happy impression clings, nor loosens its hold even after the claims of lordly Karnak and all its royal confreres of the Theban plains. A thousand years after Thebes began her life of splendor and of triumph, Amenhetep III, (l8th dyna^y) built upon the black foundation ^ones of the then ruined Temple of Sebek-em-Saf, this temple of Luxor; and had he built w^ith no other intent than to overcome the powers of Time, nor met vsath forces more de^rudive, his work would have now been almo^ without defacement; for Time has but a small charge again^ it in a land where the atmosphere is such a conserver. Row by row in splendid beauty ^and the 3400 years-old columns, their exquisitely wrought capitals without roof, nor needing one to protedt them. Sunlight and ^arlight and moonlight never had a better chance to enlarge architectural beauty than in this temple, and if its roofless colonnades and hieroglyphiced walls ^ir the imagination they do not leave it without plenty of historic material with which to build. In quick succeeding waves of light the sun passes over these pidured walls retouching their brighter color. On one of these walls there comes gaily out a pidure of the earlier temple, showing how finely it was appointed, with propylon, colossi, obelisks, and floating 48 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES bannered ensigns. Since in the Luxor temple there are no bat-haunted neither smoke-disfigured walls nor rifling atmosphere, but all so bright and open to the sky, one could look to see a butterfly, a thi^ledown come on the breeze to help make real our silver-day among these columns. The King was once young here, for here is his birth-chamber, — the table of offerings to which the infant king with his Ka was brought, in presentation to the great god Ammon-Ra, to whose glory the lives of so many of Egypt's beil were consecrated. It was 1300 B. C. before the great Rameses came to enhance the beauty of Amenhetep's temple; here as elsewhere carrying "from glory to glory" the building work of his predecessor. From Kamak to Luxor he had gone and come by way of the Avenue of Sphinxes and had noted how this avenue ought to be made to approach centrally the Temple of Luxor. To this end a forecourt with pylons mu^ be built even were it necessary to encroach upon some of the pedeilalled sphinxes. Two miles away rose in splendid viita the kingly Kamak temple and it is small wonder that the mailer-builder decided the approach to the latter of the two temples mu^ be fitting. Cumbered with uninviting du^ heaps this Sphinx avenue now lies closed, but what there is of its once splendid whole is a pure white wonder under the sun's bleach, and fills the mind with an immense desire to 49 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES appearance, a desolateness, that robs them wholly of their birthright charm. At home among their own, they share so largely in a ruin's honors that it is a thousand pities to allow them to be carried to skies alien and de^rudive. Near to these two obelisks, within the precindls of a not less beautiful colonnade, there were also two ^atues of the great Rameses; one only of these now remains to show the superb workmanship of both. As at Abu Simbal this Rameses looks from his twelve feet high enthronement with that benign expression which bears witness to the traditional dignity of the Pharaohs. Loitering about this colonnade of poetic name — Hero-en-Heb — the visitor would fain find pede^aled, even as the Rameses, the older royal builder, Amenhetep and his Mesopotamian queen; he with his face of refinement, she with her woman's loveliness. The scene shifts indeed when we leave the Hero-en-Heb colonnade — an altar built "to the mo^ brave, holy and unconquered Caesar". This is a false note, an inharmony in the old Egyptian song. What downfall is this that the ^atues of the Roman emperors should be set up in temples dedicated to Ammon-Ra, god of the Sun, god of all Egypt! We are in the land of the Pharaohs, a land that mu^ always be theirs however overrun by conquerors. None of these Grangers wore the double crown, none of these might unroll a papyrus and show how they were the lineal descendants of gods and demigods, those mighty ance^ors that came down 51 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES from the One Throne, down from the transcendant blue of Egypt's skies to reign under the same blue skies forever. Back then to the Pharaohs again, and in their temple of Luxor go on reading of Rameses and his all conquering might. His "single-handed" battle with the Khiti, (Hillitas)— the mowing down of these "like ^raw before the swing of the royal scythe," Rameses had so beautifully done in ^one on the walls at Abydos, Luxor, Kamak and at Abu Simbal that it at once commemorates the prowess of the great king and the genius of the poet Pentaur. Miss Edwards' comment of these pidured walls is, — "no poem has ever been so regally edited. With brilliant bas reliefs for illu^rations, all the song engraved upon ^one, with the walls of the great temples for binding. A splendid edition de Luxe!" A very complete copy of this poem, a papyrus, is in the British Museum. I copy from Professor Lushington's translation. (See Appendix) The power of Ammon-Ra is broken, his altars deva^ated; the sword of the Great Rameses sheathed; but pidured walls and columns hold single-handed again^ the onslaught of Time the ^ory of the vanished and the vanquished secure. "Even things without life giving a voice." 52 ajfOuA-.^- KARNAK AND THE THEBAN PLAIN KARNAK AND THE THEBAN PLAIN S the Nile approaches the site of the ancient Thebes it widens, its gently sloping banks are verdant with com and lupin, with palms and tamarisks. The mountamous ranges fall back carrying with them the yellow-rose and lilac lights that settle so transformingly into the shadows of their lime^one terraces; and it is between these color-beautified hills and the broadened river that there lies in sunny re^fulness the great Theban Plain. There are long pages of hi^ory telling that before Abraham was Thebes was, telling of its life of tragic romance from that far away twenty-five hundred years before Chri^ to its final despoiling in 1 1 B. C. In splendid and triumphant march from the simple rule of the head of a tribe to the pomp and splendor of Egypt's kings, through dyna^ies earth's greater, out from one century into another, went the life of this city of the Plain. "The hundred-gated Thebes, where twice ten score in martial ^ate Of valiant men with ^eeds and cars march through each massy gate." — So sung, and so the poet Homer named this city of many 55 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES titles — her titles a part of her my^erious hiftory. Here within this "City of the Hundred Gates" was held aloft the sceptor of Jupiter-Ammon, — Egypt's greater god, — and round about this center of the highe^ form of Egyptian worship, round about this "City of Excellence", this "City of Palaces", this "City of Thrones", her great and mighty — the wearers of the double crown — built temples and obelisks and set up itatues numberless to the holy Triad of Thebes, to Ammon, to Maut and to Khons; while outside her walls as now, between the Nile and her gates, the bronzed-backed shaduf men kept the plain in emerald beauty. From level to level the water-weighted pole lifted the water of the river into the trench-seamed fields where the com and clover brought their fresh green life to the city's gates, and now as then the same treeless hills run their dry ramparts between this greened of green life and the sun-scorched barrenness of the desert. It is indeed a long and tragic page of hiSory that unrolls itself across this Theban Plain and into the deep fastnesses of those Lybian hills. Who will may read, and who will may hear the voice of the old Spirit of the Plain cry, "Look, if you will, through my ruined pylons to my pri^ine grandeur, through my broken walls to my once priefl-guarded sanduaries, climb to my opened roof-ways and see those Lybian hills that rise in lonely State between me and yonder lonelier desert, and into 56 1 ' 1 -7' " ' M ~'^^'^ I ■ -' ^ UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES whose fatnesses all my kings made their la^ royal march. Do this, and then mark how the glory of great Ammon is not wholly departed from me, neither the ^rength nor the beauty of my hills faded. Stone upon ^one ^ill re^ secure, column and obelisk, however broken, ^ill in maje^ it and. Did my mighty ones come again they would not find me desolate as are my sixers Carthage and Babylon, they would find Time's marks upon me but not lo^ to their eyes would be the signs of my royalty. The gold of the evening sky gilds my altars each day anew, the crimson of morning turns my avenues to the color of young blood, and all day long the purpling air hangs in regal beauty over and about me. *The tears of Isis too, forever flow in solemn dignity pa^ me, so turning my shores emerald in its growth of ever fresh young life that did my sons come again, bewildered they might be, might learn a lesson Grange indeed to them who built for all time, not for these short centuries gone. The despoiling of my temples and shrines has not undone the marvel of them. The long avenue between my temples of Luxor and of Karnak, closely sphinx-guarded as it was, succumbed to the de^roying hand of those half human, half animal hordes that overrun my sacred places with wantonness, yet ever)rwhere enough remains to transmit through ages yet to come the inviolate dignity of the spirit of my splendid pa^." *The Nile. 57 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES It was through all that remains of this despoiled avenue of sphinxes that we approached the greater, the mo^ splendid ruins of all Egypt's ruins, the temple of Jupiter- Ammon at Karnak! Though these are not the firft of the ruins on the plain to be approached they hold the firS place in the visitor's intereS; and if the desire of the visitor to Egypt is, — "open our eyes that we may see wondrous things" he will nowhere see more wondrous things than at Karnak. And he will need to turn every one of those pages of hi^ory if he would have these wondrous things— these roofless walls, broken columns, overturned ^atues, avenues, courts, sanduaries, triumphal pylons, — come about him with something less than a bewildering confusion. Mo^ fitting it was that the worshippers of Egypt's gods should have built the greater of their temples to Ammon-Ra, god of the Sun, at once the representative and creator of nature's greater principle, and fitting that they should have built this temple in their capital city. To turn the pages of hi^ory back to 2466 B. C. is to find the monarchs of the twelfth dyna^ laying the foundation ^ones of this "Throne of the World"; and to follow on, page by page, is to see with what ambitious rivalry each succeeding Pharaoh laid his hand to the work, until, at the end of a thousand years, all their achievements were out-splendored by that of the greater builder of them all — "the great Pharaoh"— Rameses II. The work of that thousand 58 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES years seems as so many Pepping ^ones or avenues of approach, leading to the greater of all; and then, through their own ruined way, they retreat into Time's deep shadows, leaving to the kings of the nineteenth dyna^y the honor of outranking evei"y other. With this achievement the name of Rameses the Great is inseparably linked and from that day through the ages since, he has held undimmed the glory of his renown. Up and down the Nile-land from the sea to Soudan the great Rameses built and re-built, wrote of his prowess in war and his rulings in peace on countless temple walls, and set up his smiling-countenanced ^atues at temple portals and between their colonnades. Egypt's mo^ glorious epoch of building coming and going, as it did, with the nineteenth dyna^ (1350-1200 B. C.) crowded into a short space of time a very large share of that which has attraded the world through succeeding centuries, and the intention to build at Thebes a temple to Ammon, that should out-lu^er every other, was made good when the Temple of Kamak ^ood with its columned hall grandly beautiful! The calyx-tipped, lotus-budded columns of this great hall was, and is, a very flower of architecture in the royal crown of Rameses! Back and forth through this always great hall we wander, slowly, loiteringly, back and forth Wcuider and wonder. Sit at the base of its columns, look up to their exquisite capitals; wander away to courts, and 59 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES broken walls, always looking back, always coming back to sit and look and li^en yet again. It is true the Spirit of the Plain is not dead, neither has it gone with the maSer builder to his l)ang in ^ate, — so lowly, so lowly now at Boulak, — but is here, great Spirit ^ill! and bids us ^ay: and bids us look from Karnak's walls and see his royal consorts on the plain. From the delicate beauty of the Medinet Habu temple, lying to the south, to the terraced colonnades of the Great Hatasu's temple of Der-el-Bahari we look. Grace and ^rength are lying as close together on the plain as here in Ammon's temple. It was so the kings of the nineteenth dyna^y saw it once; only in a perfedness of grace and ^rength. How great mu^ have been the pride of their gratified ambition as they saw the various temples landing in perfedness of beauty from north to south on their rich plain. Nymph-like muft have looked the lady-temple of Maut, reposing on its mid-lake island; and the little Khons, — so youthful seeming beside "Great Kamak". Farther afield the gigantic Colossi helped their confreres to lead the way to the portals of the Anebopheum; and at the Ramesseum the mo^ colossal of the great builder's ^atues had fittingly completed that lordly temple's detail. If in the day-of-their-life these wonders of the Theban plain satisfied the ambitious pride of those nineteenth dyna^ Pharaohs, surely never elsewhere did traveler go from ruin to ruin with less abatement of wonder. That these 60 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES old builders did not see the delicate beauty of the lovely Medinet Habu — young neighbor to their greater — was their loss. Quite lovely this Medinet Habu afar or near. Queen Hatasu in choosing the Lybian mountains for a background to the Der-el-Bahari temple chose as daringly as did Rameses for the rock-hewn Abu Simbal; and if her one objedt was to give to the temple an appearance of the extreme^ delicacy by contra^ing its fluted-like facade with the towering mountams, she succeeded perfectly. From the plain it might be thought an eyrie of the sacred hawk rather than the sandluary of the gentle Hathor, she who surpassed every other in so idealizing her earthly animal form that her worshippers saw not the lovely cow but the incarnation of beneficent Love! Dignified, beautiful, loveable; tender giver of nourishment to earth's children is the goddess-mother; and wearing the full insignia of deity this her beautiful ^atue was enshrined at Der-el-Bahari. A lately headdress with long trailing lotus, falls across her shapely shoulders to her feet, and all her form responds to the calmness and the tenderness of her incarnated spirit. Deity incarnate in ^one, silent, hidden as in the Sphinx, yet alive with that life which out-lives all incarnation, is this Hathor! Goddess! Mother! Had Queen Hatasu built no temple in the Lybian mountain's side, set up no obelisk at Kamak, or 61 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES brought back from the Land of Punt no ships laden with gold and spices, but had given Egypt this one only Hathor, she had written her name ineffaceably on Time's page. The Pharaohs of later dynamics made contributions in repairs and alterations to these finished temples which is matter of relative importance in the hi^ory of them. To become familiar with the work of all the royal builders is to see how each in turn enhanced the beauty of Ammon-Ra's temple at Kamak, each in succession transcended the achievements of his predecessor until to the worshippers of the Sun-god was disclosed a temple unrivalled in every form of greatness. To-day the ruins of this great court and that great hall range themselves in splendid and unequalled proportions alongside other world-wonders, inviting the visitor to wander away in imagination from fads revealed to the unrevealed, wherein is to be found that ^ronghold of legendary enchantment built in the early dawn of Egypt's hi^ory. But to romance with Egyptian hi^ory is solemn work. There is neither a pa^ nor a present that seems joyous. Solemn- visa ged is the type of face that looks upon us from the ^atues and portraits of the Pharaohs, and solemnly dignified the type of their children of to-day. The building of temples and of tombs is not sugge^ive to joyousness and the ruins of these with contemporary records are indicative of at 62 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES lea^ a serious bent in the minds of the ancient Egyptians. Was there for these anything more joyous than to see the long reach of sphinx-guarded avenues, scarab-filleted pylons, sacred lakes and girdling walls? To-day these are joy enough for the loitering visitor on the Theban plain. We look yet again and mark how the tailed obelisk in all the land (that of Queen Hatasu) dominates all the ruins and ^ands like a splendid exclamation point among them. One unfinished pylon at Karnak, one unfinished colossal ^atue of the great Rameses whitening in the sun in its granite quarry-bed at Asnan, mark the fall of the hammer from the hand of the royal builders. Some sudden fate and the quarries were ^ill forever — Great Karnak finished! 63 THE COLOfEMFCE OF KHONS N THEBAN PLAIN THE COLOSSI OF MEMNON n* THE COLOSSI OF MEMNON |EMPLE and temple ruin succeed each other, pylon and obelisk confront each other, and tombs numberless are hidden away in the we^ern hills. All these have a companionship, but out on the Theban plain there are two lone ^atues, high on their pede^als sitting, looking through ^ony eyes, — weird, gigantic; unique they are among Egypt's ruins. Not a column, not one Sone upon another left of the temple whose entrance they once guarded; no support, no kingly neighbor nearer than their once peer in Mature, the now fallen Rameses at the Ramesseum; none to share their desolation or make less their isolation. But it is ju^ this apartness, this unlikeness to any that attradts the visitor so Wrongly, and which together with the pretty musical legend clingmg to one of them, gives them the command of an intere^ that their very inconsiderable arti^ic value could not. Seen from almo^ any di^ance these two ^atues seem like genii of the devafted plain, for what else appears — "—like the bulk— Of Memnon's image at the set of sun 67 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES To one who travels from the dusking Ea^; or sounds — as mournful as that Memnon's harp" — About these weird figures the imperial light of Egypt's skies falls without hindrance. The hills are a far remove, and nothing taller than the rich luxuriant clover is round about them. The tone of their yellow brown beauty responds to every artifice of the sun — and to the moon that, " — with alteration slow, had shed Her silver seasons four upon the night, And sill these two were poSured motionless Like natural sculpture — " There is more truth than poetic license in the poet's — "hke natural sculpture" poSured. Since the Sone looks as though it had been peeled away in deep Srips leaving seams and ridges that gives quite the appearance of Gratified rock. We do not look up into the broken faces of these Satues as into that of the Sphinx; eyes they have not, neither lips, nor any feature that might reveal some Sory of them, but down by their knees — those great, ungainly "feet of prayer" — there leans, in moS gentle portraiture, wife and mother; and beside them, figures of Nile gods are twining and binding together long-ilemmed lilies and papyrus symbols of an undisputed sovereignty. Hiflorians and artiSs have made these colossal 68 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES ^atues of Amenophis III as familiar to the world as are the Pyramids and that pretty legend of the "Singing Memnon" hung them about with a charming romance of Greek and Roman weaving. It was the singing of a sunrise hymn that transformed the Egyptian into a Greek. A young* Greek hero having fallen in war, his spirit took refuge in one of these colossal ^atues from whence he sent a song over the Theban plain to the hills of sunrise whereon his mother watched and wept. Her tears were turned into drops of bright beneficent dew, that fell with sweet refreshment upon the parched lips and scorched brow of her son, — assuaged his grief and made glad his heart. Illu^rious visitors traveled far to hear the Memnon sing; heard it and went away, carrying in their own hearts a deep sense of its pathos: for though these were not worshippers of the gods it was easy enough to fall under the spell of this humanly tender tradition. There came a day when the song of Memnon was finished, his voice silent; but over on the hills-of-Eos the sunrise comes in undimmed glory, and over the plain of Thebes the dewy tears of Eos fall in gli^ening drops of refreshment upon the grateful clover round about the spirit-forsaken Colossi. 69 I THE VALLEY OF THE TOMBS OF THE KINGS > • -i THE VALLEY OF THE TOMBS OF THE KINGS ^UT a short remove from the shadow of kingly Karnak are those "Hills of Sunset" wherein the kings of the XVIIlth, XlXth and XXth dyna^ies made for themselves "Houses of Eternity" as far outranking all others as did temple of Karnak outrank all Egypt's temples. During these flourishing dyna^ies the tribute money that poured into the treasuries of the kings from Lybia, Nubia, Pale^ine and Syria, made it easy for them to take this mountain-proteded valley and make it a prototype of that one of the Underworld so vividly described in their religion. This underworld-valley like this of their seledlion, commenced on the we^ bank of the Nile, was long and rather narrow and even in its darker sedions, never left the surface of the earth. In other features there was less resemblance. No river flows through the Biban-al-Muliik valley, neither is there a gloomy ve^ibule at the entrance. On the contrary the broad roadway winds away from the plain into a valley pidluresque with fortress-like rocks, aglow with such rich and varied coloring that there is no sugge^aion of 73 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES anything so solemnly grim as the funereal. It is true no tree or even a bunted shrub mark the sheltered spots among the silent, rocky heights of this valley-way, and yet so bright and sparkling are the sands, so smooth and gentle the climb, that one is scarcely prepared to see the "tall scalped mountains" draw together and make that rocky fatness for the royal tombs which is "without a counterpart In the whole world!" The king with a successfully long reign left a sure monument to himself in a tomb that only time and money could have made possible, and as the tomb work was the engrossing work of a life time, as well as one perpetuating the religious belief in the manner of the soul's passing on, the tombs are valued monuments of the men of those times. During the XVIII dyna^y the tomb building was presided over by the prices of the great Sun-god who claimed that from Ammon-Ra himself they had received some words that were magical in their power to help the soul happily pass through the "dark valley". This final passage would be the easier accomplished if the future occupant of the tomb made himself familiar with the long corridors and dark chambers of that valley of the underworld, and so king and kingly-prie^s became royal builders; the prices seeing that the corridors and chambers of the tomb conformed as nearly as possible to the length and shape of those in the valley of Tuat. 74 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES As the visitor to the Tombs of the Kings makes the descent through one and another of the long corridors and Sands in the dark chambers he wonders not that the royal builder made sure to himself a knowledge of certain words of deliverance, as well as of the tomb's conftrudlion. When the body of the royal maSer was carried into the dark chamber the saving words were spoken by the prieS in office and were to be repeated by the soul-in-passage as it entered the Sun-god's boat of death and life. On these divine words hung the fate of the soul, the triumphant emergence from all the horrors of the river-way into the glorious light of the new life; without them there was nothing but darkness everlaSing. What were these magic words that the pneSt and the Sun-god taught? The king learned them and went forth in faith. The infinite care with which this valley of Biban-al-Muluk was seleded as a place of safety for the royal tombs, deserved a better fate than to have been discovered. The royal decree for the royal body was, "until the laS great day". The " Granger in a Grange land" decreed otherwise and so these marvelous tombs lie open, — their mySery vanished. Following their owners, all tomb treasure had gone forth into the world again; only they themselves with their underworld corridors and chambers and their pictured walls remain — and will. These the mountains hold in chains 75 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES that no man may break. Their pidured walls are replete with the old ^ory of hopes, of fancies and beliefs; the long gone ye^erday proclaiming its kinship with every to-day. The work of the world now as then goes on; harve^s gleaned, fruits gathered, fish netted, sheep herded; and nothing unfamiliar on the Nile's banks. The blind-folded oxen were then turning the creaking water wheel and the little sandpiper was running as merrily at the water's edge. Not until we come to the realms of the soul's life do we find the pidures shifting into realms unfamiliar, drawing about them the mi^s and my^eries of old Egypt's religious beliefs. Down the long corridors' ^eep inclines and into the dark chambers' darkness these solemn my^eries accompany the visitor. Strange, all very Grange, until there shines forth from the gloom of one wall, one illuminating word " Beloved! " —kinship is e^ablished again. That one word of endearment, that tender human call, seems to soften the severe lines on the faces of the Pharaoh, to bring light to their ^ony eyes, and to part their long closed lips with smiles. That " Beloved one" tells of an earthly felicity broken, some paradise on the Nile's banks left, like the temples with a broken arch at its entrance; but unlike the temple's broken arch this tender human call spans the centuries with an undefaced beauty! Notwith^anding there are some who wish that the intent of the royal builders of these wonderful tombs had 76 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES been made good to them, and that the royal mummied people had slept on through longer centuries with their my^ery and tradition about them, yet there is no more intere^ing Story than that of the finding of the tombs of the Kings so long hidden in this valley fatness, and of their going forth to their late^ Nile voyage. Rapacity, — that old offender of law, raised the ill wind that blew good to the ardent Egyptologies who in 1871 were uncovering buried Egypt. There was a family secret in the family of one Abd-er-Rasoul shared in by the dwellers of the plain only to the extent that made them loyal; and this not because the secret was a mine of gold to the Rasoul family but because they would not have the heathen Granger carry away their Pharaohs. Piece by piece they might take them, sell them to the Granger but this Granger should not possess the whole mummied treasure. For a time neither the persuasion of offered gold, neither punishment of law induced the possessors of the secret to divulge it; but in the end gold induced one of the brothers to turn traitor and for the "few pieces of silver" the great Pharaohs were sold. How from the vandalism of their own degenerate children, the Granger rescued them, is a weird and venturesome ^ory. Not piece by piece, dive^ed of their royal insignia did these royal ones come forth into the light of day, but in perfedion of mummied arti^ry. It was Mr. Brugsch Bey and his ^aff of helpers that had hurried from the Biilak 77 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Museum to meet the traitor Mohammed Abd-er-Rasoul among the rocky heights above Der-el-Bahari and there to make that memorial descent through shafts and passage-ways ^rewn with burial treasures, to a mortuary chamber filled from floor to roof with the royal dead. What ^ore house was this his torches' light revealed? Such had not been the royal will of Seti I, of his great son Rameses, neither of his son Rameses III, nor yet of the fair Queen Nefertari, and yet these and their royal kinsfolk lay helpless with only the gold and blue sheen of their coffins between them and the Granger's hand. No wonder that Brugsch Bey was well nigh overcome as he Sood in the presence of two score of these whose eyes seemed to look ^raight into his from their vividly pidured faces and whose hands seemed ready to emerge from their ages' confine in a reach toward his, — no wonder! Outside the day was passing and the Granger feared the wrath of lurking spies. A great secret was his, and the fearsome queSion he asked himself was, would he be able to give to the world the marvelous contents of this tomb of Her-Hor? He it was who as prie^-king had reigned so royally during the twenty-fir^ dyna^y in "The City of a Hundred Gates", and had there made that prieitly vow to protedl the great family of the Rameses which he had 78 «lJiF:i«i«i • t i'ffSSr *• kA— «». UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES believed to fulfill when he carried their mummied forms from their own threatened tombs to the safer refuge of his own. But now, in a century of enlightenment his tomb was invaded in the cause of, and spirit of knowledge, and from fir^ to la^ yielded up seven centuries of Egypt's illu^rious dead! To ^and before these (the olde^ bearing date 2233 B. C.) in the Bulak Museum to-day is to underhand full well the feeling of Mr. Brugsch Bey when he turned away from the sight of them to seek the open air. The conqueror of Ethiopia, of Syria, the greater warrior of their race lay dead among them. He, Thothmes III, might not raise his arm againil the nineteenth century invader; nor yet the conqueror of the Khiti now achieve a vidlory over one man only. So, alike subservient to the will of this one living man all these old conquerors, shackled in the chains of Death, came forth to re-travel the valley-way, re-cross the Theban plain and be embarked for their Grange voyage down their loved river. Brugsch Bey's own description of his six days' and nights' work in the emptying of the Her-Hor tomb is as pathetic as tragic, scarcely needing the "little imagination" which he sugge^s. He says, "I shall never forget the scenes I witnessed, when, landing at the mouth of the Der-el-Bahari shaft, I watched the Grange train of helpers while they carried across the hi^orical 79 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES plain the bodies of the very kings who had conSruded the very temples ^ill landing, and of the very prices who had officiated in them; the temple of Hatasor nearer, away across from it, Karnak; further to the right the Ramesseum, where the great granite monolith lies face to the ground; further south, Medinet Habu; midway between, Der-el-Medinet; and then the two colossi, the vocal Memnon and his companion; and then beyond all, more view of the plain; then the blue of the Nile and the Arabian hills far to the ea^; while slowly moving down the cliffs and across the plain, or in the boats crossing the Nile flood were the sullen laborers carrying their ancient burdens. As the Red Sea opened and allowed Israel to pass, so opened the silence of the Theban plain and allowed the royal funeral procession to pass, and then — all was hushed again. Go up to Der-el-Bahari, and with a little imagination you will see it all spread out before you" — Go! Not less ^riking to the imagination were the scenes of lamentation that the natives made at the parting with their Pharaohs. Mr. Hardwicke D. Rawnsley, in his "Notes for the Nile" says that Mr. Brugsch Bey told him that "one of the moS ^riking things in the whole journey to his mind, was the way in which there arose from all the Land of Egypt 'an exceeding bitter cry ' , and women wailing and tearing their hair, men casing du^ above their heads, came crowding from the villages 80 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES on the banks, to make lamentation for Pharaoh. Yes, the whole heart of Egypt and the old love for the mighty kings of the splendid days of old, was deeply moved, and, as in the days more than three thousand years ago, with wailing and great weeping, the funeral barge had carried the dead kings up the Nile to their sleep among the Theban hills; so to-day, with wailing and weepmg and gnashing of teeth, and all the signs of national lamentation, did the bodies of the mighty Pharaohs sail swiftly down through a land of mourning and sorrow, from their long repose in the Theban valley of the dead, to their final reS at Cairo beside the shining Nile." The impressive ceremony of the unwrapping of the royal mummies of Rameses II, and Rameses III was condudled by M. Ga^in Maspero in the presence of a di^inguished company at the Bulak Museum in 1886. The wrapping of the royal body of the Great Rameses that had been done at such expense of time and with such perfection of funeral art three thousand one hundred and eighty-six years gone, was on that June day of — 86 removed layer by layer,— marvelous wrapping — in one short quarter of an hour! The official records of this la^ despoiling of the Pharaohs read hardly more acceptable than that detailed confession by the vandal despoiler of the Great Rameses that is recorded in the Amher^ papyrus. The robber and despoiler confessed, "We found the auguit king with 81 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES his divine axe beside him, and his amulets and ornaments of gold about his neck; his head was covered with gold, and his auguS person was entirely covered with gold; his coffin was overlaid with gold and silver within and without, and incrufted with all kinds of precious Sones. We took the gold which we found upon the sacred person of this god as also his amulets and ornaments which were about his neck, and the coffins in which he reposed". And so it was that these men of scientific research found only what the robber considered valueless. How little did he know! In the less elaborate Osirian coffin that for some centuries following, held the royal mummy of Rameses II, — without special insignia of honor or marks of love — the great chief made his several pilgrimages from tomb to tomb. Fir^, says the "Abbott"— papyrus, Rameses II was carried to the tomb of his father Seti I, but in no long time the prieft-guardians fearing for his safety, he and his father were carried to the tomb of Queen Ansera— she of the eighteenth dynafty — and there believed to have been left in safety. But no, tomb-robbers were ^ill following the greatest of their prey, and again hoping for a securer refuge, he was left in the tomb of Amenophis I— of the eighteenth dynaSy, whose House of Eternity bore the date 1635 B. C. Here for six years only the great Pharaoh was at re^, and then back again to the tomb of his father, to be sent forth again and hidden away in the vault of the Her-Hor family at 82 ^»^^ UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Der-el-Bahari, there to lie with his own long line of royal refugees until that Arab-Judas sold for silver the knowledge of this la^ hiding and from which he went forth at the call of the Granger. 83 £SITO^^. OF MEDINET ABU (INTERIOR) (HOI513TMI) uaA TamaaM io 3jsm3t E5NA— EDFU— KOM OMBOS - "n fTii I r " Wr jji f ESNA— EDFU— KOM OMBOS HAVING behind the va^ly impressive ruins of Kamak, the lonely site of the silent Memnon, and the lonelier windings of the solemn valley among the wind-swept hills, the river leads on in unchanging gray towards its fir^ cataradt. Nowhere else will be found so rich a field of ruin-treasure and nowhere else will the sun shine with more vivifying effed into roofless courts and colonnaded halls than on the plain of Thebes, Nowhere. It is a late date that we read on the site of the "Heliopolis of the South" — at Armant — only fifty-one B. C. How young, how changed; Ammon Ra dethroned, Apollo and Jupiter worshipped. Another false note — as in the Luxor temple— un-Egyptian, — but the river has to carry us only a tone's throw farther to set us back again to the days of the Early Empire, — this at Gebeten, the site of a pre-dynaSic city. The site of yet another of the old Time-effaced cities is found at Asfun-al-Matana, these two and we come to moorings under the Seepish bank at Esna. Surrounded by Egyptian poverty, sunk deep down in its sunless grave the Temple of Esna is no sharer in the better fortune 87 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES of her si^er temples. Their roofless courts and galleries are handsomely dowered with the sun's be^ gold, with the moon's pure^ silver. Their lotus-budded columns make a sort of formal garden above the ^ony courts, and on the farther blue of the sky the ^ars outline the zodiac's signs. No, the fate of those temple ruins which lie pro^rate in the sands seem happy indeed to that of Esna in her both earth and roof imprisonment. Far, far down — deeper than the Nile's bottom, lie the foundations of that earlier temple above which this one was to the glory of the god Khnum built. Later came the Roman emperors with their extensions and embellishments. Safely hidden away under the well preserved cornice are the names of two of these, Claudius and Vespasian. How well the Roman emperors loved to associate themselves with Egypt's peculiar beliefs and cufloms is recorded on many a temple wall. Here at Esna the Emperor Commodus had himself represented assi^ing the ram-headed Khnum and the god Horus in drawing a net filled with fish and water-fowl; while the ibis-headed Thout looks on approvingly. Then there is the imperial Decius, sacrificing to the glory of the god Khnum. We read that this imperial name was the laft of the many imperial names ever sculptured on an Egyptian temple. Standing on the present level of the ^reet, or narrow 88 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES pathway, the handsome capitals supporting the cornice are almost within touch. Twenty-four of these, variously inscribed support the portico and frame in a mo^ interesting representation of the Zodiac. The two views to be had of the Esna temple are both interior, the fir^ looking down into it, the second looking up but not out of it, as one walks through its low sunken courts. Ah, poor Esna to be so defined. Again the river leads on and pa^ effaced cities and some more or less intere^ing tombs. It were better to say all the tombs of Egypt are intere^ing; it is the comparison between the marvelous ones in the great Valley and the less marvelous elsewhere that permits of the "more or less" expression. The names of Thothmes IV, Amenhetep 111, of Seti I, Rameses II, and III, of Ptolemy IX, and Ewergetes II, are to be repeated over and about the ^ill visible ruins of the ancient Eileithyias— or the now simple name Al-Kab. This we leave on the ea^ bank and look away until there rises in lately magnificence the towers of the beautiful Temple of Edfu. After sunless Esna, the wholly-open-to-the-sun, the spaciousness, of the courts and galleries gave to Edfu a very real and loveable personality. Did the young god Horus entail his own never-aging sovereignty on this beil preserved of Egyptian temples?— for barring the marks of defacement of early Chri^ian vandalism, the two thousand years of life have left few marks on this 89 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES lovely Horus temple. The great pylons are crowded with battle scenes, the splendid columns (thirty-two) run side by side with equally splendid courts and galleries, and the fairways are richly embellished with kingly and prie^ly processions. Through the broken roof of the Sandtuary the sun falls with delicious warmth upon the Horus-consecrated shrine, and from the Pylon's high top it fairly glorifies the diSant desert mountains ! Palms and mimosa, fields emerald with their heavy crops, sheep and goat herds, camels and their makers, villages fringed about with women and children in their corn-flower-blue gowns, and pa^ them all in its silent, somber flow, the Nile. This pidure wall remain long after the great towers of the Temple of Horus at Edfu have gone beyond the horizon. ***** One more temple marks the Nile valley and the traveler finds himself before that one so often called the "bijou" of Egyptian temple architedure, — the Kiosk, — at Philae. Mecca though that Philae is to every Nile traveler, he would not pass Kom Ombos by. It is part of a true Nile pidure, landing on a height that commands not only a far reaching view of the Nile valley but the farther away routes into Nubia. It is among the pleasant experiences of temple visiting that, always excepting kingly Kamak, every ruin appears as intere^ing if not as great as the one laft seen. Not that it really is so, but looking at Kom Ombos ilanding on its high plateau we say it 90 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES is one of the moil charming ruins on the Nile; and in the days of the eighteenth dynasty monarchs mu^ have been a temple, or temples, of ftriking beauty. We like this Nile pidlure, like the much-ruined ruin that it is, and do not find it easy to associate the de^inies of so charming a temple with the uncharming crocodile-headed Sobk. However, this ugly ruler had good ta^e in choosing for associates the gentle Hathor, and the young Khons-Hor, god of the moon and of her beauty-enhancing light. The crocodile-headed god has lo^ his scepter but not so the moon-god, for it is hereabouts that the god and his lunar queen transform their world into a magic sort of beauty-poetic in its harmony with the silence! The coloring of one of the reliefs — that of Tiberius — where the Emperor is making offerings to the beautiful lady of Ombos, is mo^ wonderfully preserved, as are also the column-reliefs in the fir^ hall of the Great Temple. Then there are ^ar-gods with goddesses in the heavenly boats, and lovely Isis, Nephthys, Shu, Maat, Nut; and no wall column or facade is without its decoration repeating the legends and beliefs of the royal temple builders. Father Nile has not been kind to the smaller of the Ombos' temples, having when in flood from year to year, taken large tribute of it, until the greater part fared worse than to have been covered by the warm, beneficent sands. "Its myitic glory swept away." * dfi * * * 91 PHIL/E PHIL/E jHOSE golden sands that come so far on the wings of the wind to fill up the seams of the broken sand^one cliffs along the Nile-way, are ^ill among the beauty-enhancing features round about the Fir^ Catarad, although the rock so roundly moulded, so black and gli^ening, so novel a feature in the river's channel, divide our admiration. In the sky there is a possible clearer clearness by day, and at night only that change which comes with the varying light of the young, the full and of the waning moon; after which the blue firmament belongs to the ^ars alone! "Silvery" — "pearly", are much used expressions in the not-to-be-expressed effed of the night's light upon the always Grange panorama. It mu^ be seen! Looking up into such a firmament and then out over such a panorama, the vision-like pidture is charming beyond description and simulating to the imagination. It is then easy to believe that the Sars have marked well the difference between the life To-day and YeSerday of the island of Philae; and that their seeming emotional trembling is for the fate that has overtaken the lovely temples. Their deSiny was entered upon under the 95 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES sandion of gods and kings; and the ^ars looked on approvingly. What befell that these con^ant ^ars lo^ control? At Edfu the Temple of Horus ^ands in Wrongly contra^ing perfedtness-of-ruin; and Kom Ombos, so much less dowered, ^ill commands the river and valley routes that lead to its courts, from its secure hill-site. These are neighbors of Philae; their entered-upon-de^iny not greater and yet their paved courts and halls and their ivory-colored colonnades v^ear unchanged their old time likeness. Where then is Philae? If the wherefore of so radical a difference in the fate of these neighboring temples was not written in the ^ars, it is now plainly enough to be traced along the flow of the Nile. Philae was unfortunately situated for her later-day life; this the ^ars did not foretell, and had they so foretold, could the builders of her temples have underwood the law of necessity under which was achieved that modern wonder of engineering, the Great Dam? No, the beit of the old a^rologers could not have read this in any of the myriad ^ars that ranged themselves as allies to the gods. It is for more than a hundred miles that this Great Dam keeps the country in flood. Islands and banks that once bore a wealth of palms, of mimosa, of sycamore are submerged, their beauty of outline, their natural life gone. The palms that gave a very special grace to the whole rocky framework are slowly drowning; the purple 96 t- UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES mountains look less purple, and the whole panorama wears harder lines without the softening influence of the feathery green. The delicate features of the Temple of Isis and those not less delicate of the lovely Kiosk are now submerged, without so much as a reflected beauty-of-them, in the muddy waters. Whatever of pathos there is in the pilgrim's cry of regret among Egypt's temple ruins, it mu^ get its loudeil echo from the water-entombed temples of Philae. The measurements of the Temple of Isis do not give it rank among Egypt's greater, and yet it has never looked small either on its former foundation or now in its submergence; and now, perhaps more than ever, its exquisite lightness of architedural proportions saves it from an appearance of sinkmg into the water, but rather gives the effed of, Venus-like to be rising from it. The approach to both temples is now quite colorless; no green, feathery banks lead from the landing into exquisite courts and many angled colonnades, but over the somber, tideless sea of water the rowers send their boat fir^ through the very heart of the "bijou" Temple, and on into the face of the Temple of Isis. Alas! The covering of the foundations serves to dwarf the two propylon towers, — twins in loveliness— that once ^ood so proudly high holding aloft their colossal sculptures. Without fringe of green at their base 97 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES these towers and their pidure galleries look harder, colder than they used, and yet they are moS beautiful. The sun will never allow these out-door galleries to be really hard or cold. The portrait of the goddess Isis, — the Lady of Philae— is said to be featured like to one of the two Cleopatras, wives of Ptolemy Physcon. However the alien-featured breaks the rhythm of Egyptian myfticism, fortunately the false note soon passes and at the Isis temple it did not enter the inner court nor dare so much as pass the Hathor-headed columns by. The visitor ilands at the water's level, looks about, — defacement everywhere — looks up and there, toward the farther blue of the sky, there, close above a very garden of lotus bud and bloom the color of a remaining roof glows in all its unspoiled beauty! Familiar as one may feel to be with the beft, as well as the wor^, that Egypt's temples hold, it is not possible to feel the charm conveyed by such a grouping of palms, papyrus, lotus until one ^ands in such a garden of them as this that blooms under the azure of this one portico. The opening in the roof lets ju^ enough of heaven's blue to enhance that of the portico and make of it that immortal color which, once seen, remains a pure delight always. It is a worn fairway that goes up pa^ this temple garden to the roof where the sun is warming the mammoth itones. Below is a small room sacred to 98 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Osiris, the whole Osirian legend beautifully sculptured upon the walls, — an exceedingly intere^ing set of reliefs— a sort of love legend, setting forth the death of the god of the dead, the tender mini^rations of Isis and how Horus revenged his father. The god Set, — the god of darkness— assi^ed by his si^er Nephthys who was also his wife — conspired and induced the great Osiris to leave a fea^ and enter a box which they quickly closed and threw into the Nile. Then it was that the "Tears of Isis"* flowed in deep silence between its banks and for long kept the tragic secret; but the faithful Isis was to be rewarded. She found the body of her lord, — floated out upon the dry sand — whereupon she and her son hid it away; but not content was the ever evil Set who again found the body of the god and tossed it in smaller pieces to the winds. The love of Isis was omnipotent in its power and gathering each fragment of her lord's body she gave to each a special sepulcher, thus defying any further efforts of the would-be-deftroyer. Osiris was not dead but was from henceforth to be the great god of the dead with an e^ablished kingdom in the world of the dead. And thus love triumphed, the conquered made conqueror. Isis in this trinity was the beautiful dawn and Horus the "young sun"— the faireS allies of the Egyptian day. In another small chamber of this Isis temple is a pretty ^ory of foSering care given by the goddess mother Hathor *The Nile. 99 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES to the splendid young god Horus. He sowed the land with seed of future crops, in honor of the goddess, while to the gentle mother he gave a jewelled collar to take the place of his encircling arms. From the roof, where the sun is warming the great uneven ^ones, one looks dov^oi upon the roofless, foundationless columns of the yet lovely Kiosk, sinking, rising, alone and as apart as the colossi on the Theban plain. Not farther removed, but neither rising nor sinking, are fixed mid-^ream those curious gigantic rocks that rise like unhewn temples whose foundations are the earth's foundations. Mountains are tossed up from the underworld and, like these that close in the far circling panorama about Philae, are softened by Nature's hand of grace, but not so these unhewn temple rocks that are without sand or shrub, or vine or waving palm to soften their hardness. Modern hiSory is fa^ being made about Philae. The quarries are again hearing the sound of the builders, yet, whatever the building of these kings-of-science of this twentieth century, and maybe they will rebuild the Philae temples on some other islands! — they surely Will not ^ir from its foundations that one great orange-red monolith of granite about whose base prehi^oric floods have washed, and on whose polished sides prie^s and conquerors have written their records of prayer, of vidlory — and commoner folk have inscribed it with their signs of admiration and adoration? This great 100 t i » UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES rock is "Pharaoh's throne". Let it be a witness forever to the unchangeableness of some of God's work in the land of Egypt. "By Him who sleeps in Philae" this is indeed Egypt's Mecca. 101 THE ROCK TEMPLES OF ABU SIMBAL THE ROCK TEMPLES OF ABU SIMBAL iNDER the skies of the Southern Cross there is a brightening of the firmament, the moon, the ^ars and all the "ho^s-of-the-blue" increase their lu^er, grow so white in their silver light that under it the brown and yellow sands of the mountainous desert lose their splendid coloring, are transformed into a mellow whiteness that in turn transforms the Oriental into an Ardic landscape. This moonlight transformation is truly magical. It was under the skies of the Southern Cross that the great temple-builder of Egypt sought and found a new and unique setting for yet two other temples. Had he tired of the level plains at Heliopolis, Abydos, Memphis, Thebes that he should "spy out", in the land of Nubia, a mountainous rock with gliftening sands falling like golden hair about its face, the which should make an ideal and wholly unique temple site? Heretofore the great Rameses had builded on the plains, on the Nile's gentler banks, but in far away Nubia the plains were beyond the encircling mountains and the Nile's banks crowded hard again^ them. 105 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES One of these sand-embedded, sand-crowned mountains looked full into the face of the morning sun, had the young Sun-god for its god and had a great rocky heart waiting to respond to a call to life. It was to the heart of this mountain of splendid proportions that Rameses II gave the throb of life by setting up altar and shrine, and carving about them in completeil maje^y the great Temple of Abu Simbal. Neither this nor the lesser Temple of Hathor had pylon or obelisk, or sphinx avenue to greaten their approach; neither have they to-day those roofless courts and uncrowned colonnaded halls wherein the visitor will be, as at Karnak, Luxor, — everywhere — welcomed by the Sun. But in the place of these the golden sands come pouring round about the lately portals of these Grange temples in a glory of warmth and color, of richness and softness that gives to them a charm of tenderer quality than that of dignity. Here, a long way removed from her si^er temples of Lower Egypt, alone in her mountain flronghold the Temple of Abu Simbal did, — and does outrank all the temples of the Nile in grandeur of solitude. Hewn deep into the gigantic rock the shadows and the gloom of the interior give ^rangely imposing proportions to the architecture and make of the whole a very harmonious shrine for the god of the Under-world. The great Hypo^yle Hall of this rock temple 106 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES wears no likeness to the colonnaded courts that roofless and sun-full are so delightfully familiar in Egypt; and in^ead of that almo^ airiness of architedural effedls given by the Sun— the Sun! the light, and all the necromancing atmosphere to the uncovered temples, there is at Abu Simbal a concentration of effeds solid, ^ationary and almo^ oppressive with the added weight of its own gloom. The size and solidity of the eight colossal columns that support the mountain's weight and leave a roof between, seem greatly augmented by the gigantic Osiris-figures that ^and close again^ them, and yet the light from the door reaches through this great hall with such happy effedl that it is both arti^ically and impressively beautiful. The sculpturing on the side walls is full of spirit and the coloring brilliant. No part of Rameses' record of vidory — that same wonderful vidory over the Hittites to be read of at Karnak, Luxor, the Ramesseum and Abydos, — has lo^ any of its coloring on the darkest of temple walls; and, as though to prove his right to reward for so much prowess, he has here commemorated his marriage to the daughter of the Hittite king after he had made them both captive. An almo^ childlike portraiture this of subjeds too aged to wake our enthusiasm or move our pity, and so we delight more in the walls' charming art than in the hi^orical fads. Eight small chambers, the smaller Hypo^yle 107 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Hall, the Transverse chamber and the Sanduary reach far into the mountain's darkness, where beside the altar, in the utmoS gloom sit waiting and watching the gods of light, and the deified king. Even into this blackness of darkness the kings would go in company with the gods of light — with Ammon, the Great Sun-god, with Harmachis the Young Sun-god, and with Ptah, but not even in the sometimes sun-filled great Hypo^yle Hall would he consort with Osiris. It was outside, in the full face of the Sun, that Rameses dismissing all gods, eleded to enthrone himself alone. As in a great high backed lately sort of seat he sits — four colossal ftatues of him, guarding the temple door. Is it the goodly promise that is so beautifully sculptured in the cornice above — "I give to thee all life and ^rength" — that has changed the ^ony countenance of one of these colossi and given it a smiling benignity? The seat-like appearance of the facade of Abu Simbal is produced by building the two sand-protedting walls at either side. Fortunately these walls do not dwarf the four colossal ^atues, whose seventy feet from base to crown measure harmoniously with the mountainous background and in so doing sugge^ the thought that only a monarch who never undervalued himself would have had the daring to seat himself again^ one of Egypt's mountains and ^ill look "Rameses the Great". 108 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Across the valley of the golden avalanches of sand that separates without separating this greater temple from its consort, the "smiling Rameses" may see how worthily he grouped, at the lesser temple's door, his royal family about him. The facade of the Hathor temple is, as it were, a pylon in bondage; never freed from the mountain again^ which its wide receding form re^s. And again the likeness to pylon architedture was curiously departed from by carving out from the face of it deep recesses massively buttressed with ^one. From these six recesses the colossal figures of Rameses and his queen, — three on either side the doorway, — walk with that noble and graceful bearing which sugge^s their being the chief personages in a royal procession that will shortly follow them out and across that valley of golden sand to join in the ceremonies of the "House of Ra". Outside all this; inside the grace of simplicity. Six square columns, the head of Hathor many times repeated, sculpturing in bas-relief, the Hypo^le Hall, the Transverse Chamber, some lesser and unfinished chambers, and above them from its security in the architraves issues the voice of the king saying, "Rameses, the Strong in Truth, the Beloved of Ammon, made this divine Abode for his royal wife, Nefret-ere, whom he loves" — and— "his royal wife who loves him, Nefret-ere, the Beloved of Maut, con^ruded for him this Abode in the mountain of Pure Waters". 109 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES Since the name Nefret-ere signifies Good, Perfedl, Beautiful in Companionship, it was fitting that Rameses should have dedicated this temple of modeS mien to the fair and gentle queen "whom he loves" and also to have associated with her the supreme^ type of woman, — Hathor, the goddess of divine maternity. Whether in the several pleasingly fair portraits of queen Nefret-ere her personal beauty has been enhanced by idealizing it, giving it the sweetness and grace of the divine type represented by the goddess-mother, the legend does not say, but certain it is her portraits in the Hathor temple, make good her right to her name's significance. As out from the shadows of one of the tombs in the great Valley there floats the refrain of a tender human love — "Beloved"! — so from the mountain-hid shrine of Hathor the old love song — "whom he loves" — "who loves him" — floats out and across the golden sand valley of the Abu Simbal temples; out and on upon the waters that bear the Keener into the farther reach of this Land of Gold! no ^i|(|". ^ f-y^mm \ ADIEU > w ADIEU slTH the Rock Temples of Abu Simbal the Nile's temple-pilgrimage ends. Farther south the Southern Cross joins the "con^ellated ho^s" of the sky in their early morning watch over the foamy waters Second Catarad. Not in bondage, like the waters of the Fir^ Catarad, are these of the Second, but right gladsomely they come from that almo^ wilderness world where in the Blue Nile and the White have met, and here, before they take to the river's sober flow they make the mo^ of their free play among the big and little boulders that beset the channel. Gli^ening in their purple-black beauty these catarad rocks are in sharp contra^ to the va^ Wretches of golden sand that like a wind swept sea of amber, rolls over the plains of the Lybian desert. Down at the Fir^ Catarad— so tame, so spiritless now — the whole landscape has its finality within the embrace of circling mountains, but here, at the Second, from the rocky height of Abooseer, it seems to be without finality. Splendid beyond compare is 113 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES the panorama that is only to be seen from the top of this great cathedral-like rock. At its feet lie the beauty rocks of the wide-spreading, foaming water way with islets interspersed — islets desolate and brown, islets fresh with green. Again^ its rocky sides the gold sand breaks in its cataradl roll and fall, and from its overhanging top the view reaches to where sky and earth meet — "How long they kiss!" This sky and these quiet desert lands! It is not that the Rock of Abooseer is really great in height, but it is so immeasurably higher than the ridges and cliffs that lead up to it, so dominating in the landscape that it seems so; and therefore to be lifted up by it, above the small and inconsiderable features about, is to see them from the vantage point of — in Egypt — a great height. The atmosphere is brilliantly transparent, no miriness or cloud shadows to dim the entrance to the countless valleys of sand that comes rolling through openings in ^ony mountain wa^es. No hindrance is there to catching bits of the gleaming Nile as it winds Northward through the undulating Lybian plain; nor any hindrance to watching the phantom-like forms of two twin mountains that lean again^ the warm skies of the Soudan — "A laS remains of sunset * * burned * * * like a torch * * " In one long Hare of crimson. 114 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES When again, there come into view the ^ony amber cliffs that mark — "the site once of a city great and gay, (So they say)" — Steps led up the cliffs' front once, and once a wall "Shut them in"- from a world, possibly as inconsiderable as that of the little Wady Haifa village across the river. The apex of that pyramid of green whose base is so broadly planted at the delta, has, at the Second Cataradt, come in touch with the joyous, far traveling waters and with them will, with sometimes more, sometimes less display of ^rength, retravel the whole thousand miles to the sea. The pilgrimage that has been made over the various fields of "cloth of gold" has come to its end in the golden Land of Nubia. The route has not been bordered with royal ensigns or feSooned with ma^s, neither have religious fea^s and fe^ivals made ceremonious the temple visiting. None of these things, but, everywhere that "triumph over decay" which gives to the ruins of Egypt the qualities of greatness. For what ruin of Egypt has not — *" magnificence in decay— a symmetry broken but not de^royed, a touch of delicate art and workmanship to quicken the imagination and evoke the gho^s of beauty haunting her ancient habitations?" And too, Egypt's *Henry Van Dyke. 115 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES ruins have— "a very clear connedion w^ith the greatness and glory of the pa^, with some fine human achievement, vv^ith some heroism of men dead and gone; and la^ of all, a spirit of my^ery, the secret of some unexplained cata^rophe, the loit link of a ^ory never to be fully told". To turn back, therefore, and take our way to all this again is to live it all over again, to "Break the rosary in a pearly rain, And gather what we let fall." Again to watch the far rolling, the my^eriously shifting hills of the desert; again to penetrate into the strangeness of valleys and plains, again to watch the old river's mirthless flow; again to feel the inspiration and the charm of the days and the nights! To live this all over again is the happy chance that the return voyage gives. Soon the "Land of Ethiopia" of the Greeks with its wide desolate plains, its curiously rounded hills — more green than golden — will be passing by. And when these are gone the old familiar hills will come slowly creeping across the plain to their home beside the river again; yet not in unbroken ranks, but as though they would cling to the plain. Here and there they form Grange, almo^ grotesque groups; black, catarad-like ^ones crown their summits or roll down their pyramidial slopes— desolation of desolation — no life — — "nothing throve; * * — a burr had been a treasure trove." 116 -i»?*^ UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES and yet the very boundlessness of the desolation gives to all this region a profound magnificence. The sun does not desert it, neither the winds, nor yet is it left without its dower rights in Egypt's skies. When the sun shall have passed over the lonely peak of the mountains of the Sun, and looked in at the portals of the Rock-hewn temples of Abu Simbal, he will go out upon the sandy plains again to there renew his guardianship over all that is left of the temples of which in the days of the Prince of Kosh rivaled those of Lower Egypt. Wherein failed the guardianship of the great Ra and of the ever young Harmachis that we shall find only here and there a fallen column, a lovely capital, a pylons foundation, — nothing warranting the name's claim that this is the "Temple of Rameses in the House of Ra?" And yet in all Egypt, Upper and Lower, there is no temple ruin so complete that it might not be called the "House of Ra" — for no court is so small that the Sun-god does not set up his throne within, no wall so broken that he does not lean his scepter again^ it. As the red granite hills of Nubia begin to fade in the di^ance those of the golden brown take their place. The green fields broaden again and again the Shaduf men and the blindfolded oxen are at work between the thirty fields and the river. Gray mud villages, huddled close within the confines of a palm grove, pigeon towers looking from a di^ance like a 117 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES sedion of some mediaeval caSle, the camels, the goat and sheep herds, and the funny little donkeys, all these come oftener into the landscape as we drop down the river toward Lower Egypt. The winds also make more of their transforming powers than when they have only the nearby mountains to cross. The sandy plains they toss into waves, the water they send in dancing wavelets along the flat banks whereon the little sandpipers keep up their centuries of merry running to and fro. To-day the Ea^ and We^ are meeting all along the banks of this river-of-mercy to Egypt, and to-day the prophecy, that the Englishman would "plant his foot firmly on the Nile's banks," has come true. Protection is in his out^retched hand, but a burning heart of endurance throbs within the haughty breads of the sons of the Pharaohs. This the river heeds not, or, not until it is caught at the Fir^ Cataradl and there protedted again^ the use of its own free will. Philae again! and again the quick falling night that subdues the antagonisms of the days and weaves about them those Grange transparencies through which one may read any truths of Egyptian hi^ory with unconcern. Under the spell of this night-light it is easy, to reconcile differences, to feel the powerlessness of the day's experiences to di^urb; easy to like better the soft mazes of silver light that have taken the place of the 118 • I UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES more radiant gold, easy to feel at peace with the world Ejiglish or Egyptian under the gentle influence of the luminous half-light that has taken the place of the resplendent color-belted horizons. Standing, in this light, within the ruins of Karnak, looking up to where the shapely obelisk of Hatasu touches the blue, there comes no thought even so little obtrusive as that of comparison of objeds or methods. The night is sublime; and, the obelisk, what of it? Nature may easily undo the work of man's hand in sending into the sky the sublimed of mountain heights, but in Egypt these imposing obelisks, that have with^ood every form of Time's onslaught, are her sublimed miracles in flone! When the tall sentinels shall have wholly disappeared from view, then too will have gone the plain of the once "Hundred Gated City" gone from view as has beautiful Philae, and golden Nubia. The green fields will now be coming in greater numbers and soon the golden sands with all their fine, soft, glowing beauty will be withdrawing into the long sinuous valleys, but, the river so helpful, — so harmful — what of it? "The river which had done them — "some" — wrong flows on — and will — — "deterred no whit" — bearing in its flow a sound all the world likens to — the sound of that song-of-the-centuries whose chorus-of-deeds done and doing, fir^ resound through the splendid 119 UNDER EGYPT'S SKIES arches of the pylons, through the columned halls of temples, through and into the tomb's grim shadows. Through all of these and out from them again it comes, to sweep with a never lessening volume across the dumb, desert silences; down and around the crumbling walls of the imperial City of Mena. Ever toward the sea on and on resounding; — winding its way among the foundations of the cluSered pyramids; and then — by night — to pour into the likening ears of the omnipotently-silent Sphinx. The whole secret of the song! ***** Dimly outlined again^ the evening sky are the Pyramids of Gizeh, dimly coming into view the circling Mokattan Hills, and dimly are the graceful minarets of Mohamet Ali's mosque pointing toward those floating "^ar-boats" that — as we come to anchor — will be dipping their sparkling oars into the glorious blue of Egypt's skies. "Now in the sea's red vintage melts the sun, As Egypt's pearl dissolved in rosy wine, — And Cleopatra's night drinks all. 'Tis done". 120 APPENDIX THE POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II THE POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II* JEVERAL days after that King Rameses was in the town Rameses Miamon. Moving northward he reached the border of Katesh; then marched onward like his father (Mentu,) towards Hanruta. The flr^ brigade of Ammon, 'that brings vidory of King Rameses' (accompanied him). He was nearing the town; then the vile chief of Cheta came; he gathered (forces) from the margin of the sea to the land of Cheta; came all the Naharina, the Airatu, the Masu, the Kashkash, the Kairakamasha, the Leka, Katuatana, Katesh, Akarita, Anaukasa, the whole Mashanata Hkewise, nor left he silver or gold in his land he Gripped it of all his treasures (which) he brought with him. The vile chief of Cheta, with many allies accompanying him, lay ambushed to northwe^ of (Katesh). Now King Rameses was all alone, no other with him, the brigade of Ammon * Professor Lushington's translation in the "Records of the Pail." ii p. 61. 125 POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE marching after him; the brigade (of Ra?) at the dyke we^ of the town Shabutuna; the brigade of Ptah in the centre, the brigade of Set on the border of the land of Amairo. Then the vile Cheta chief made an (advance) w^ith men and horses numerous as sand; they were three men on a car, they had joined with every champion of Cheta-land, equipped with all war gear, in (countless numbers); they lay in ambush hidden to northweft of the town Katesh; then they charged the brigade of Ra Harmachis in the centre, as they were marching on, and they were not prepared to fight. Foot and horse of King Rameses gave way before them; they then took Katesh on the we^em bank of Hanruta; this news was told the King; then he rose as Mentu, he seized his arms for battle; he clutched his corslet like Bar in his hour; the great horse that bore him, 'Vidlory in Thebes' his name, from the ^able of Rameses Miamon, within the van. The King drew himself up, he pierced the line of the foe, the vile Cheta; he was all alone, no other with him. When he advanced to survey behind him, he found there encircled him twenty-five hundred chariots topping his way out. Every champion of the vile Cheta and abundant land with him of Airatu, of Maasu, of Patasu, and of Kashkash, of Iriuna, of Katuatana, of Chirabu, of Akarita, Katesh, Leka, they were three men on a car, they made (a charge), there was no chief with me, no marshall, no captain of 126 CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II archers, no officers; fled were my troops and horse. I was left alone of them to fight the foe. Then said King Rameses, ' What art thou, my father Ammon? what father denies his son? for what have I done aught without thee? have I not stepped or ^ayed looking to thee, not transgressing the decisions of thy mouth, nor passing far a^ray beyond my counsels? Sovran Lord of Egypt, who make^ to bow down the peoples that with^and thee; what are these Amu to thy heart? Ammon brings them low who know not God. Have I not made thee monuments very many? filled thy temple with my spoils? built thee a house for millions of years? given treasures to thy shrine? dedicated to thee all lands, enriched thy sacrifices? I have slain to thee thirty thousand bulls, with all wood of sweet scent, good incense coming from my hand. The making of thy court completed, I have built thee great towers of ^one above thy gate, groves everlaSing. I brought thee obelisks from Elephantine; it is I who had eternal ^ones carried, guiding for thee galleys on the sea, conveying to thee the labours of all lands. When was it said such happened in other time? Shame on him who opposes thy counsels, well be to him who approves thee, Ammon. What thou ha^ done is from a heart of love; I call on thee, my father Ammon. I am amid multitudes unknown, nations gathered again^ me; I am alone, no other with me; my foot and horse have left me. I called aloud to them, none of them heard; I cried to them. I find Ammon worth more 127 POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE than millions of soldiers, one hundred thousand cavalry, ten thousand brothers and sons, were they gathered all in one. No works of many men avail, Ammon again^ them, I attain that by the counsels of thy mouth, O Ra, not over^epping thy counsels. Lo, have I not done homage to the farther end of the land?' My cry rang unto Hermonthis; Ra heard when I called, he put his hand to me, I was glad; he called to me behind; '****** Rameses Miamon, I am with thee, I thy father Ra, my hand is with thee. I am worth to thee one hundred thousand joined in one; I am Sovran Lord of Vidtory, loving valour if I find courage, my heart overflows Math joy; all my doing is fulfilled. ' I am as Mentu, I shoot to the right, I seize on my left, like Bar in his fury again^ them; I find twenty-five hundred chariots, I am amid^ them, then were they overthrown before my ^eeds; not one of them found his hand to fight, their hearts shrank within them; their hands all dropped, they knew not how to shoot, they found no heart to grasp the spear; I made them fall into the water as fall crocodiles, they tumbled headlong one over another; I slew them; my pleasure was that none of them should look behind him, nor any return; whoever falls of them he mu^ not raise himself up. Then the vile chief of Cheta ^ood amid his army to see the prowess of King Rameses. The King was all alone, no soldiers with him, no horse, he turned in dread of the King. Then he made his mighty 128 CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II men go in numbers, each one of them with cars, they brought all war harness, the chief of Airatu, the chief of Masu, the chief of Iriuna, the Leka, the chief of Tantani, the Kashkash, the chief of Kairkamash, the Chirabu, the allies of Cheta, all banded in one, twenty-five hundred chariots. Charging the mid^ of them fiercer than flame, I rushed upon them, I was as Mentu; I let my hand ta^e them in a moment's space, I hew at them to slay them in their seats; each one of them called to his fellow, saying, 'No mortal born is he whoso is among us. Set the mighty of Srength; Bar in bodily form, verily whoever comes close to him, his hand droops through all his frame, they know not how to grasp bow nor spear when they have seen him. ' Coming to the jundtion of roads, the King pursued them as a griffin. I was slaying them, none escaped me; I gave a call to my foot and horse, saying, ' Be firm, be firm in heart, my foot and horse; behold my vidtory. I was alone, Tum (Ammon) my support, his hand with me. ' Now when Menna my Squire saw me thus encircled by many chariots, he cowered, his heart quailed, great terror entered his limbs, he said to the King, ' My gracious Lord, Prince revered, valiant exceedingly, protedor of Egypt in day of battle, verily we ^and alone amid the foe, how make a ^and to save breath to our mouth? how rescue us, King Rameses, my gracious Lord? ' The King said to his Squire; ' Courage, courage, my Squire, I will pierce them as a hawk; I will slay and hew them, caSt 129 POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE them to the duft. What forsooth to thy heart are these Amu? Ammon brings very low them who know not God, who brightens not his face on millions of them.' King Rameses dashed into the van, then he pierced the foe, the caitiff Cheta, six times, one and all, he pierced them. I was as Bar in his season, prevailing over them I slew them, none escaped. Then the King called to his archers and cavalry, likewise to his chiefs who failed to fight. 'Naught profits full heart in you. Is there one of them who did his duty in my land? Had I not ^ood as Royal Ma^er, ye were down^ricken. I made Princes of you always. I set son in his father's e^ate; if any evil comes on Egypt, ye quit your service * * * * Whoever comes to make petitions I always pay regard to his claims. Never any Royal Ma^er did for his soldiers what King Rameses has done for you, I let you sit in your houses and your towns; ye have not performed my hefts, my archers and cavalry. I have given them a road to their cities. ***** Lq^ yg liave played cowards all together, not one of you ftood to aid me while I had to fight. Blessed be Ammon Tum, lo, I am over Egypt as my father Ra; there was not one of them to observe my commands in the land of Egypt. O noble feat! for consecrating images in Thebes, Ammon's city; great shame on that ad of my foot and horse, greater than to tell, for lo, I achieve my vidories; there was no soldier with me, no horseman; every land beholds the 130 CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II path of my vidories and might. I was all alone, no other with me, no chiefs behind, no marshals, no captains of the army, no officers, all peoples saw and will tell my name to limits of lands unknown. If any warriors, relics of my hand, remain, they will turn at seeing me; if ten thousand of them come upon me, their feet will not ftand firm, they will fly; whoever would shoot ^raight at me, down dropped their arrows, even as they approached me. ' Now when my foot and horse saw, I was addressed as Mentu, the ftrong sword of Ra, my father, who was with me in time of need, he made all peoples as ^raw before my horses. They were marching one after another to the camp of eventide; they found all the tribes through whom I pierced ^rewn in carnage, whelmed amid their blood, with all brave lighters of Cheta-land with children and brothers of their chief. Morning lighted the field of Katesh; no space was found to tread on for their multitude. Then my soldiers came glorifying our names to see what was done, my cavalry likewise, extolling my prowess. 'What a goodly deed of valor! firm in heart, thou ha^ saved thy army, thy cavalry son of Tum, framed by his arms, spoiling Cheta-land by the vidorious sword. Royal Conqueror, none is like thee. King lighting for his ho^ on day of battle, thou great of heart, fir^ in the fray, thou recked not for all peoples banded together, thou great conqueror before thy army, in the face of the whole land. No gainsaying. Thou guarded Egypt, cha^ise^ 131 POEM OF PENTAUR ON THE lands of thy foes, thou bruised the back of the Cheta forever.' Then the king addressed his foot and horse, likewise his chiefs who failed to fight; 'Not well done of one of you, your leaving me alone amid the foe; there came no chiefs, officer or captain of ho^ to aid me. I fought repelling millions of tribes all alone. "Victory in Thebes" and "Nehrahruta" (my horses) they are all I found to succour me. I was all alone in the mid^ of foes. I will let them eat corn before Ra daily, when I am in my royal palace; these are they found in the midil of the foe, and my Marshal Menna my Squire, with the officers of my household who were near me, the witnesses of conHid who saw them fall before the King; with vidtorious strength he felled one hundred thousand all at once, by his sword of might.' At dawn he joined in fray of battle; he went terrible to fight, as a bull terrible with pointed horns he rose again^ them as Mentu ordering the fray, alike valiant in entering battle, fighting fierce as a hawk, overthrowing them as Sechet who send flames of fire in the face of thy foes; as Ra in his rising at the front of dawn, shooting flames upon the wicked; one man among^ them calls to his fellow, ' Mark, take heed, verily Sechet the mighty is with him; she guides his horses; her hand is with him.' Whoever approaches sinks to ruin; she sends fire to burn their limbs, they were brought to kiss the duS. King Rameses prevailed over them, he slew them, they escaped not, they were overthrov^i under his 132 CONQUEST OF THE KHITI BY RAMESES II Seeds, they were Srewn huddled in their gore. Then the vile Cheta Prince sent to do homage to the great name of King Rameses. 'Thou art Ra Harmachis, thou art Set mighty of Srength, son of Nut, Bar himself; thy terror is over Cheta-land brought low; thou haS broken the back of Cheta for ever and ever. ' Then came a herald bearing a scroll in his hand to the great name of Rameses, 'To soothe the heart of the King, Horus, conquering Bull, dear to Ma, Prince guarding thy army, valiant with the sword, bulwark of his troops in day of battle. King mighty of Srength, great Sovran, Sun powerful in truth, approved of Ra, mighty in vidories, Rameses Miamon. The servant speaks to tell the king. My gracious Lord, fair son of Ra Harmachis, truly thou art bom of Ammon, issue of his body, he gives thee all lands together, land of Egypt and land of Cheta, they offer their service beneath thy feet to thee, Ra, prevailing over them. Yea, thy spirit is mighty, thy Srength weighs heavy on Cheta-land; is it good to kill thy servants? thou exerciseil thy might upon them; art thou not softened? thou cameS yeSerday and slewed one hundred thousand of them; thou art come to-day * * * victorious King, Spirit glad in battle, grant us breath of life. ' Then the King rose in life and Srength as Mentu in his season. Then he bade summon all the leaders of foot and horse, his army all assembled in one place to let them hear the message sent by the great chief of Cheta to King Rameses. They 133 POEM OF PENTAUR answered, saying to the King, ''Tis very good to let fall thy wrath. Prince, Sovran Lord, ***** who can soothe thee in thy day of anger?' Then King Rameses gave assent to their words; he gave his hand in peace, returning to the South, passing in peace to Egypt with his chiefs, his foot and horse, in life and flrength, in sight of all land. Dread of his might is in every heart, he protecfts his army, all nations come to the great name, falling down and adoring his noble countenance. King Rameses reached fort Rameses Miamon great image of Ra Harmachis reposing in the royal palace in Thebes, as the sun's orbs, on his two-fold throne; Anmion hailed his form, saying, 'Glory to thee, son loved of us, Rameses Miamon (to whom we grant) fe^ivities for ever on the throne of thy father Turn. All lands are overthrown under his feet; he has quelled (all enemies). ' Written in year seven, month Payni, in the reign of King Rameses Miamon, giver of life for ever and ever like his father Ra * * * * To the Head Guardian of the royal writings ***** by the Royal Scribe Pentaur. 134 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL KINGS OF EGYPT, WITH APPROXIMATE DATES. Fir^ Dyna^ Mena Tela Atet Ata Hesep-ri 4266 Mer-bapen 4233 Semenptah 4200 Kebh 4166 Second Dynafly Betau • Kakau • Ba-neter-en Uatnes . Senta . . Third Dynasty Tatai . . Nebka . T'er-sa Tela . . Setes Ra-nefer-ka Fourth Dyna^ Snefru Chufu Ra-tet-f Fourth Dynafty — Continued B. C. B, C 4400 Cha-f-Ra 3666 4366 Men-kau-Ra 3633 4333 Shepseskaf 3600 43U0 Xhe dates are those of Brugsch Bey, as published in "Egypt under the Pharaohs", ii., p. 311. Fifth Dyna^ Userkaf 3566 Sahu-Ra 3533 4133 Kaka 3500 4100 Nefer-Ra 3466 4066 Ra-en-user-An 3433 4033 Menkau-Her 3400 4000 Tet-ka-Ra 3366 Unas 3333 3966 Sixth DynaSy 3933 User-ka-Ra 3300 3900 Teta ......... 3266 3866 Meri-Ra 3233 3833 Meren-Ra 3200 3800 Nefer-ka-Ra 3166 Mer-en-Ra-Ment-em-Saf . .3133 3766 Seventh to Eleventh Dyna^es 3733 Neter-ka-Ra .3100 3700 Men-ka-Ra 3066 137 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE Seventh to Eleventh Dynamics— Continued B.C. Nefer-ka-Ra 3033 Nefer-ka-Ra Nebi .... 3000 Tet-ka-Ra-maa-kes (?] Nefer-ka-Ra Chentu Mer-en-hler . . . Senefer-ka • Ra-en-ka .... Nefer-ka-Ra Tererl Nefer-ka-Her . . . Nefer-ka-Ra Pepi-senib Nefer-ka-Ra Annu . kau-Ra . Nefer-kau-Ra . Nefer-kau-Her 2966 .2933 2900 .2866 2833 .2800 2766 .2733 2700 .2666 2633 . 2600 Neferarka-Ra 2566 Neb-cher-Ra Seanchka-Ra 2533 2500 Twelfth Dynafty Amenemha I 2466 Usertsen I 2433 Amenemha II 2400 Usertsen il 2366 Usertsen III 2333 Amenemha III 2300 Amenemha IV 2266 Thirteenth to Seventeenth Dyna^es Here comes a break of five hundred years, in which the "Shepherd Kings" rule falls. Ejghteenth Dynafty Ahmes 1700 Amenhetep I 1 666 1600 Ejghteenth Dynaily — Continued B.C. Thothmes 1 1633 Thothmes II \ Thothmes III ) ' Amenhetep II 1566 Thothmes IV 1533 Amenhetep III 1500 Her-em-heb 1466 Heretic Kings 1 433 Nineteenth Dynafty RamesesI 1400 Setil 1366 Rameses II 1 333 *Merenptah 1300 Setill 1266 *(Pharaoh of the Exodus) 1233 1200 1166 Twentieth Dyneiity Setnecht, Rameses III . Rameses Rameses Rameses Rameses Rameses Rcimeses Rameses Rameses X Rameses XI Rameses XII Rcuneses XIII Twenty-firft DjTiafly Herber 1100 Piankhi 1066 Pi-net'-em 1033 1133 138 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE Twenty-firS Dyna^- Pa-seb-cha-nen I ■ Men-cheper-Ra . Amen-em-ap-t . Pa-seb-cha-nen II -Continued B.C. . . 1000 Twenty-second Dynaily SheshankI 966 Osorkon I 933 TakelotI 900 Osorkon II 866 Sheshankll 833 Takelotll 800 Sheshank III Pimai Sheshank IV Twenty-third Dyna^ Pet-lu-Bast Osorkon III Twenty-fourth Dyna^ Bak-en-ren-f Twenty-fifth Dynaily Shabaka ) Shabataka ) Taharka 733 700 693 Twenty-sixth Dynafty Psamtek I Nekau PsEuntek II Twenty-sixth Dyna^ — Continued B.C. Uah-ab-Ra 591 AJjmesII 572 Psamtek III 528 Twenty-seventh Dyna^ Cambyses 527 Darius I 521 Xerxes I 486 Artaxerxes 465 Xerxes II Sogdianus Darius II Twenty-eighth Dyna^ Amenrut (Amyrtaeus) . • . Twenty-ninth Dyncifly Nai-f-aa-u-rut I 399 766 Muthes . Pa-sa-Mut Nai-f-aa-u-rut II 379 Thirtieth Dyna^ Necht-Her-heb 378 Teher 360 Necht-neb-f (Nedanebus) . . .358 Thirty-firft Dyna^ Ochus 340 666 Arses 338 612 Darius III 336 596 Conquest by Alexander the Great . 332 139 HERE, then, ends Under Egypt's Skies, written by Mrs. Lydia Ethel F. Painter, and made into this book by Helen Bruneau Van Vechten, at the Philosopher Press which is in Wausau, Wisconsin, at the Sign of the Green Pine Tree, and finished this fifteenth day of November, MCMX. rzisk'^ c,'i% A\^'-V .v?J aVvA„ \' r% :^' ^<^^% ^' % / (^ .^^' nOo<. ..V— \>^^^'-;^ ■*v „ %i-' ■i*'' % -> v. ,0' i> -•Ci. 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