"Now let the men show us their skill with their throwing-sticks," Chebron said. "You will see they will do better with them than we with our arrows."

The men at once turned the boat's head toward a patch of rushes growing from the shallow water a hundred yards out in the lake. Numbers of ducks and geese were feeding round it, and the whole rushes were in movement from those swimming and feeding among them, for the plants were just at that time in seed. The birds were too much occupied to mark the approach of this fresh clump of rushes. The men had removed the screen from the side of the boat furthest from the birds, and now stood in readiness, each holding half a dozen sticks about two feet long, made of curved and crooked wood.

When close to the birds the boat was swung round, and at once with deafening cries the birds rose; but as they did so the men with great rapidity hurled their sticks one after another among them, the last being directed at the birds which, feeding among the rushes, were not able to rise as rapidly as their companions. The lads were astonished at the effect produced by these simple missiles. So closely packed were the birds that each stick, after striking one, whirled and twisted among the others, one missile frequently bringing down three or four birds.

The cats were in an instant at work. The flapping and noise was prodigious, for although many of the birds were killed outright, others struck in the wing or leg were but slightly injured. Some made off along the surface of the water, others succeeded in getting up and flying away, but the greater part were either killed by the cats, or knocked on the head by the poles of the two fowlers. Altogether twenty-seven birds were added to the store in the boat.

"That puts our arrows to shame altogether, Amuba," Chebron said. "I have always heard that the fowlers on these lakes were very skilled with these throwing-sticks of theirs, but I could not have believed it possible that two men should in so short a space have effected such a slaughter; but then I had no idea of the enormous quantities of birds on these lakes."

Jethro was examining the sticks which, as well as the ducks, had been retrieved by the cats.

"They are curious things," he said to Amuba. "I was thinking before the men used them that straight sticks would be much better, and was wondering why they chose curved wood, but I have no doubt now the shape has something to do with it. You see, as the men threw they gave them a strong spinning motion. That seems the secret of their action. It was wonderful to see how they whirled about among the fowl, striking one on the head, another on the leg, another on the wing, until they happened to hit one plump on the body; that seemed to stop them. I am sure one of those sticks that I kept my eyes fixed on must have knocked down six birds. I will practice with these things, and if I ever get back home I will teach their use to our people. There are almost as many waterfowl on our sea as there are here. I have seen it almost black with them down at the southern end, where it is bordered by swamps and reed-covered marshes."

"How do they catch them there, Jethro?" Chebron asked.

"They net them in decoys, and sometimes wade out among them with their heads hidden among floating boughs, and so get near enough to seize them by the legs and pull them under water; in that way a man will catch a score of them before their comrades are any the wiser."

"We catch them the same way here," one of the fowlers who had been listening remarked. "We weave little bowers just large enough for our heads and shoulders to go into, and leave three or four of them floating about for some days near the spot where we mean to work. The wild fowl get accustomed to them, and after that we can easily go among them and capture numbers."

"I should think fowling must be a good trade," Chebron said.

"It is good enough at times," the man replied; "but the ducks are not here all the year. The long-legged birds are always to be found here in numbers, but the ducks are uncertain, so are the geese. At certain times in the year they leave us altogether. Some say they go across the Great Sea to the north; others that they go far south into Nubia. Then even when they are here they are uncertain. Sometimes they are thick here, then again there is scarce one to be seen, and we hear they are swarming on the lakes further to the west. Of course the wading birds are of no use for food; so you see when the ducks and geese are scarce, we have a hard time of it. Then, again, even when we have got a boat-load we have a long way to take it to market, and when the weather is hot all may get spoiled before we can sell them; and the price is so low in these parts when the flocks are here that it is hard to lay by enough money to keep us and our families during the slack time. If the great cities Thebes and Memphis lay near to us, it would be different. They could consume all we could catch, and we should get better prices, but unless under very favorable circumstances there is no hope of the fowl keeping good during the long passage up the river to Thebes. In fact, were it not for our decoys we should starve. In these, of course, we take them alive, and send them in baskets to Thebes, and in that way get a fair price for them."

"What sort of decoys do you use?" Jethro asked.

"Many kinds," the man replied. "Sometimes we arch over the rushes, tie them together at the top so as to form long passages over little channels among the rushes; then we strew corn over the water, and place near the entrance ducks which are trained to swim about outside until a flock comes near; then they enter the passage feeding, and the others follow. There is a sort of door which they can push aside easily as they pass up, but cannot open on their return."

"That is the sort of decoy they use in our country," Jethro said.

"Another way," the fowler went on, "is to choose a spot where the rushes form a thick screen twenty yards deep along the bank; then a light net two or three hundred feet long is pegged down on to the shore behind them, and thrown over the tops of the rushes, reaching to within a foot or two of the water. Here it is rolled up, so that when it is shaken out it will go down into the water. Then two men stand among the rushes at the ends of the net, while another goes out far on to the lake in a boat. When he sees a flock of ducks swimming near the shore he poles the boat toward them; not so rapidly as to frighten them into taking flight, but enough so to attract their attention and cause uneasiness. He goes backward and forward, gradually approaching the shore, and of course managing so as to drive them toward the point where the net is. When they are opposite this he closes in faster, and the ducks all swim in among the rushes. Directly they are in, the men at the ends of the net shake down the rolled-up part, and then the whole flock are prisoners. After that the fowlers have only to enter the rushes, and take them as they try to fly upward and are stopped by the net. With luck two or three catches can be made in a day, and a thousand ducks and sometimes double that number can be captured. Then they are put into flat baskets just high enough for them to stand in with their heads out through the openings at the top, and so put on board the boat and taken up the Nile."

"Yes, I have often seen the baskets taken out of the boats," Chebron said, "and thought how cruel it was to pack them so closely. But how do they feed them for they must often be a fortnight on the way?"

"The trader who has bought them of us and other fowlers waits until he has got enough together to freight a large craft—for it would not pay to work upon a small scale—accompanies them up the river, and feeds them regularly with little balls made of moistened flour, just in the same way that they do at the establishments in Upper Egypt, where they raise fowl and stuff them for the markets. If the boat is a large one, and is taking up forty or fifty thousand fowl, of course he takes two or three boys to help him, for it is no light matter to feed such a number, and each must have a little water as well as the meal. It seems strange to us here, where fowl are so abundant, that people should raise and feed them just as if they were bullocks. But I suppose it is true."

"It is quite true," Chebron replied. "Amuba and I went to one of the great breeding-farms two or three months ago. There are two sorts—one where they hatch, the other where they fat them. The one we went to embraced both branches, but this is unusual. From the hatching-places collectors go round to all the people who keep fowls for miles round and bring in eggs, and beside these they buy them from others at a greater distance. The eggs are placed on sand laid on the floor of a low chamber, and this is heated by means of flues from a fire underneath. It requires great care to keep the temperature exactly right; but of course men who pass their lives at this work can regulate it exactly, and know by the feel just what is the heat at which the eggs should be kept.

"There are eight or ten such chambers in the place we visited, so that every two or three days one or other of them hatches out and is ready for fresh eggs to be put down. The people who send the eggs come in at the proper time and receive each a number of chickens in proportion to the eggs they have sent, one chicken being given for each two eggs. Some hatchers give more, some less; what remain over are payment for their work; so you see they have to be very careful about the hatching. If they can hatch ninety chickens out of every hundred eggs, it pays them very well; but if, owing to the heat being too great or too little, only twenty or thirty out of every hundred are raised, they have to make good the loss. Of course they always put in a great many of the eggs they have themselves bought. They are thus able to give the right number to their customers even if the eggs have not turned out well.

"Those that remain after the proper number has been given to the farmers the breeders sell to them or to others, it being no part of their business to bring up the chickens. The fattening business is quite different. At these places there are long rows of little boxes piled up on each other into a wall five feet high. The door of each of these boxes has a hole in it through which the fowl can put its head, with a little sort of shutter that closes down on it. A fowl is placed in each bow. Then the attendants go around two together; one carries a basket filled with little balls of meal, the other lifts the shutter, and as the fowl puts its head out catches it by the neck, makes it open its beak, and with his other hand pushes the ball of meal down its throat. They are so skillful that the operation takes scarce a moment; then they go on to the next, and so on down the long rows until they have fed the last of those under their charge. Then they begin again afresh."

"Why do they keep them in the dark?" the fowler asked.

"They told us that they did it because in the dark they were not restless, and slept all the time between their meals. Then each time the flap is lifted they think it is daylight, and pop out their heads at once to see. In about ten days they get quite fat and plump, and are ready for market."

"It seems a wonderful deal of trouble," the fowler said. "But I suppose, as they have a fine market close at hand, and can get good prices, it pays them. It seems more reasonable to me than the hatching business. Why they should not let the fowls hatch their own eggs is more than I can imagine."

"Fowls will lay a vastly greater number of eggs than they will hatch," Chebron said. "A well-fed fowl should lay two hundred and fifty eggs in the year; and, left to herself, she will not hatch more than two broods of fifteen eggs in each. Thus, you see, as it pays the peasants much better to rear fowls than to sell eggs, it is to their profit to send their eggs to the hatching-places, and so to get a hundred and twenty-five chickens a year instead of thirty."

"I suppose it does," the fowler agreed. "But here we are, my lord, at the end of our journey. There is the point where we are to land, and your servant who hired us is standing there in readiness for you. I hope that you are satisfied with your day's sport."

Chebron said they had been greatly pleased, and in a few minutes the boat reached the landing-place, where Rabah was awaiting them. One of the fowlers, carrying a dozen of the finest fowl they had killed, accompanied them to the spot Rabah had chosen for the encampment. Like the last, it stood at the foot of the sandhills, a few hundred yards from the lake.

"Is the place where we are going to hunt near here?" was Chebron's first question.

"No, my lord; it is two miles away. But, in accordance with your order last night, I have arranged for you to fish to-morrow. In the afternoon I will move the tents a mile nearer to the country where you will hunt, but it is best not to go too close, for near the edge of these great swamps the air is unhealthy to those who are not accustomed to it."

"I long to get at the hunting," Chebron said; "but it is better, as you say, to have the day's fishing first, for the work would seem tame after the excitement of hunting the river-horse. We shall be glad of our dinner as soon as we can get it, for although we have done justice to the food you put on board, we are quite ready again. Twelve hours of this fresh air from the sea gives one the appetite of a hyena."

"Everything is already in readiness, my lord. I thought it better not to wait for the game you brought home, which will do well to-morrow, and so purchased fish and fowl from the peasants. As we have seen your boat for the last two or three hours, we were able to calculate the time of your arrival, and thus have everything in readiness."

The dinner was similar to that on the previous day, except that a hare took the place of the venison—a change for the better, as the hare was a delicacy much appreciated by the Egyptians. The following day was spent in fishing. For this purpose a long net was used, and the method was precisely similar to that in use in modern times. One end of the net was fastened to the shore, the net itself being coiled up in the boat. This was rowed out into the lake, the fishermen paying out the net as it went. A circuit was then made back to the shore, where the men seized the two ends of the net and hauled it to land, capturing the fish inclosed within its sweep. After seeing two or three hauls made, the lads went with Jethro on board the boat. They were provided by the fishermen with long two-pronged spears.

The boat was then quietly rowed along the edge of the rushes, where the water was deeper than usual. It was, however, so clear that they could see to the bottom, and with their spears they struck at the fish swimming there. At first they were uniformly unsuccessful, as they were ignorant that allowance must be made for diffraction, and were puzzled at finding that their spears instead of going straight down at the fish they struck at seemed to bend off at an angle at the water's edge. The fishermen, however, explained to them that an allowance must be made for this, the allowance being all the greater the greater the distance the fish was from the boat, and that it was only when it lay precisely under them that they could strike directly at it. But even after being instructed in the matter they succeeded but poorly, and presently laid down their spears and contented themselves with watching their boatmen, who rarely failed in striking and bringing up the prey they aimed at.

Presently their attention was attracted to four boats, each containing from six to eight men. Two had come from either direction, and when they neared each other volleys of abuse were exchanged between their occupants.

"What is all this about?" Chebron asked as the two fishermen laid by their spears, and with faces full of excitement turned round to watch the boats.

"The boats come from two villages, my lord, between which at present there is a feud arising out of some fishing-nets that were carried away. They sent a regular challenge to each other a few days since, as is the custom here, and their champions are going to fight it out. You see the number of men on one side are equal to those on the other, and the boats are about the same size."

Amuba and Jethro looked on with great interest, for they had seen painted on the walls representations of these fights between boatmen, which were of common occurrence, the Egyptians being a very combative race, and fierce feuds being often carried on for a long time between neighboring villages. The men were armed with poles some ten feet in length, and about an inch and a half in diameter, their favorite weapons on occasions of this kind. The boats had now come in close contact, and a furious battle at once commenced, the clattering of the sticks, the heavy thuds of the blows, and the shouts of the combatants creating a clamor that caused all the waterfowl within a circle of half a mile to fly screaming away across the lake. The men all used their heavy weapons with considerable ability, the greater part of the blows being warded off. Many, however, took effect, some of the combatants being knocked into the water, others fell prostrate in their boats, while some dropped their long staves after a disabling blow on the arm.

"It is marvelous that they do not all kill each other," Jethro said. "Surely this shaving of the head, Amuba, which has always struck us as being very peculiar, has its uses, for it must tend to thicken the skull, for surely the heads of no other men could have borne such blows without being crushed like water-jars."

That there was certainly some ground for Jethro's supposition is proved by the fact that Herodotus, long afterward writing of the desperate conflicts between the villagers of Egypt, asserted that their skulls were thicker than those of any other people.

Most of the men who fell into the water scrambled back into the boats and renewed the fight, but some sank immediately and were seen no more. At last, when fully half the men on each side had been put hors de combat, four or five having been killed or drowned, the boats separated, no advantage resting with either party; and still shouting defiance and jeers at each other, the men poled in the direction of their respective villages.

"Are such desperate fights as these common?" Chebron asked the fishermen.

"Yes; there are often quarrels," one of them replied, quietly resuming his fishing as if nothing out of the ordinary way had taken place. "If they are water-side villages their champions fight in boats, as you have seen; if not, equal parties meet at a spot halfway between the villages and decide it on foot. Sometimes they fight with short sticks, the hand being protected by a basket hilt, while on the left arm a piece of wood, extending from the elbow to the tips of the fingers, is fastened on by straps serving as a shield; but more usually they fight with the long pole, which we call the neboot."

"It is a fine weapon," Jethro said, "and they guard their heads with it admirably, sliding their hands far apart. If I were back again, Amuba, I should like to organize a regiment of men armed with those weapons. It would need that the part used as a guard should be covered with light iron to prevent a sword or ax from cutting through it; but with that addition they would make splendid weapons, and footmen armed with sword and shield would find it hard indeed to repel an assault by them."

"The drawback would be," Amuba observed, "that each man would require so much room to wield his weapon that they must stand far apart, and each would be opposed to three or four swordsmen in the enemy's line."

"That is true, Amuba, and you have certainly hit upon the weak point in the use of such a weapon; but for single combat, or the fighting of broken ranks, they would be grand. When we get back to Thebes if I can find any peasant who can instruct me in the use of these neboots I will certainly learn it."

"You ought to make a fine player," one of the fishermen said, looking at Jethro's powerful figure. "I should not like a crack on the head from a neboot in your hands. But the sun is getting low, and we had best be moving to the point where you are to disembark."

"We have had another capital day, Rabah," Chebron said when they reached their new encampment. "I hope that the rest will turn out as successful."

"I think that I can promise you that they will, my lord. I have been making inquiries among the villagers, and find that the swamp in the river bed abounds with hippopotami."

"How do you hunt them—on foot?"

"No, my lord. There is enough water in the river bed for the flat boats made of bundles of rushes to pass up, while in many places are deep pools in which the animals lie during the heat of the day."

"Are they ferocious animals?" Amuba asked. "I have never yet seen one; for though they say that they are common in the Upper Nile, as well as found in swamps like this at its mouth, there are none anywhere in the neighborhood of Thebes. I suppose that there is too much traffic for them, and that they are afraid of showing themselves in such water."

"There would be no food for them," Rabah said. "They are found only in swamps like this, or in places on the Upper Nile where the river is shallow and bordered with aquatic plants, on whose roots they principally live. They are timid creatures and are found only in little-frequented places. When struck they generally try to make their escape; for although occasionally they will rush with their enormous mouth open at a boat, tear it in pieces, and kill the hunter, this very seldom happens. As a rule they try only to fly."

"They must be cowardly beasts!" Jethro said scornfully. "I would rather hunt an animal, be it ever so small, that will make a fight for its life. However, we shall see."

Upon the following morning they started for the scene of action. An exclamation of surprise broke from them simultaneously when, on ascending a sandhill, they saw before them a plain a mile wide extending at their feet. It was covered with rushes and other aquatic plants, and extended south as far as the eye could see.

"For one month in the year," Rabah said, "this is a river, for eleven it is little more than a swamp, though the shallower boats can make their way up it many miles. But a little water always finds its way down, either from the Nile itself or from the canals. It is one of the few places of Northern Egypt where the river-horse is still found, and none are allowed to hunt them unless they are of sufficient rank to obtain the permission of the governor of the province. The steward wrote for and obtained this as soon as he knew by letter from your father that you were accompanying him and would desire to have some sport."

"Are there crocodiles there?" Amuba asked.

"Many," Rabah replied, "although few are now found in the lakes. The people here are not like those of the Theban zone, who hold them in high respect—here they regard them as dangerous enemies, and kill them without mercy."



CHAPTER VII.

HIPPOPOTAMUS AND CROCODILE.

Guided by Rabah the party now descended to the edge of the swamp. Here in the shallow water lay three boats, or rather rafts, constructed of bundles of bulrushes. They were turned up in front so as to form a sort of swan-necked bow, and in outline were exactly similar to the iron of modern skates. Upon each stood a native with a pole for pushing the rafts along, and three or four spears. These were of unusual shape, and the lads examined them with curiosity. They had broad short blades, and these were loosely attached to the shafts, so that when the animal was struck the shaft would drop out, leaving the head imbedded in its flesh. To the head was attached a cord which was wound up on a spindle passing through a handle.

"Those rafts do not look as if they would carry three," Chebron said.

"They will do so at a push," the man replied; "but they are better with two only."

"I will stop onshore, with your permission, Chebron," Jethro said. "I see there are a number of men here with ropes. I suppose they have something to do with the business, and I will accompany them."

"The ropes are for hauling the beasts ashore after we have struck them."

"Well, I will go and help pull them. I can do my share at that, and should be of no use on one of those little rafts; indeed, I think that my weight would bury it under the water."

"We have been out this morning, my lord," the boatman said, addressing Chebron, "and have found out that there is a river-horse lying in a pool a mile up the river. I think he is a large one and will give us good sport."

Chebron and Amuba now took their places on the two rafts; and the men, laying down the spears and taking the poles, pushed off from the shore. Noiselessly they made their way among the rushes. Sometimes the channels were so narrow that the reeds almost brushed the rafts on both sides; then they opened out into wide pools, and here the water deepened so much that the poles could scarce touch the bottom. Not a word was spoken, as the men had warned them that the slightest noise would scare the hippopotami and cause them to sink to the bottom of the pools, where they would be difficult to capture. After half an hour's poling they reached a pool larger than any that they had hitherto passed, and extending on one side almost to the bank of the river.

The man on his raft now signed to Chebron to take up one of the spears; but the lad shook his head and motioned to him to undertake the attack, for he felt that, ignorant as he was of the habits of the animal, it would be folly for him to engage in such an adventure. The man nodded, for he had indeed been doubting as to the course which the affair would take, for it needed a thrust with a very powerful arm to drive the spear through the thick hide of the hippopotamus. Amuba imitated Chebron's example, preferring to be a spectator instead of an actor in this unknown sport.

For three or four minutes the boats lay motionless, then a blowing sound was heard, and the boatman pointed to what seemed to the boys two lumps of black mud projecting an inch or two above the water near the margin of the rushes. They could not have believed that these formed part of an animal but that slight ripples widening out on the glassy water showed that there had been a movement at the spot indicated. With a noiseless push Chebron's hunter sent the boat in that direction, and then handed the end of the pole to Chebron, signing to him to push the boat back when he gave the signal.

When within ten yards of the two little black patches there was a sudden movement; they widened into an enormous head, and a huge beast rose to his feet, startled at the discovery he had just made that men were close at hand. In an instant the hunter hurled his spear with all his force. Tough as was the animal's hide, the sharp head cut its way through. With a roar the beast plunged into the rushes, the shaft of the spear falling out of its socket as it did so, and the strong cord ran out rapidly from the reel held by the hunter. Presently the strain ceased. "He has laid down again in shelter," the hunter said; "we will now follow him and give him a second spear."

Pushing the rushes aside the boat was forced along until they again caught sight of the hippopotamus, that was standing up to its belly in water.

"Is he going to charge?" Chebron asked, grasping a spear.

"No, there is little chance of that. Should he do so and upset the boat, throw yourself among the rushes and lie there with only your face above water. I will divert his attention and come back and get you into the boat when he has made off."

Another spear was thrown with good effect. There was a roar and a great splash. Chebron thought that the animal was upon them; but he turned off and dashed back to the pool where he had been first lying.

"I thought that was what he would do," the hunter said. "They always seek shelter in the bottom of the deep pools; and here, you see, the water is not deep enough to cover him."

The boat again followed the hippopotamus. Amuba was still on his raft on the pool.

"What has become of him?" Chebron asked as they passed beyond the rushes.

"He has sunk to the bottom of the pool," Amuba replied. "He gave me a start, I can tell you. We heard him bursting through the rushes, and then he rushed out with his mouth open—a mouth like a cavern; and then, just as I thought he was going to charge us, he turned off and sank to the bottom of the pool."

"How long will he lie there?" Chebron asked the hunter.

"A long time if he is left to himself, but we are going to stir him up."

So saying he directed the boat toward the rushes nearest to the bank and pushed the boat through them.

"Oh, here you are, Jethro!" Chebron said, seeing the Rebu and the men he had accompanied standing on the bank.

"What has happened, Chebron—have you killed one of them? We heard a sort of roar and a great splashing."

"We have not killed him, but there are two spear-heads sticking into him."

The hunter handed the cords to the men and told them to pull steadily, but not hard enough to break the cords. Then he took from them the end of the rope they carried and poled back into the pool.

"Those cords are not strong enough to pull the great beast to the shore, are they?" Chebron asked.

"Oh, no, they would not move him; but by pulling on them it causes the spear-heads to give him pain, he gets uneasy, and rises to the surface in anger. Then, you see, I throw this noose over his head, and they can pull upon that."

In two or three minutes the animal's head appeared above the water. The instant it did so the hunter threw the noose. The aim was correct, and with a jerk he tightened it round the neck.

"Now pull!" he shouted.

The peasants pulled, and gradually the hippopotamus was drawn toward the bank, although struggling to swim in the opposite direction.

As soon, however, as he reached the shallow water and his feet touched the ground he threw his whole weight upon the rope. The peasants were thrown to the ground and the rope dragged through their fingers as the hippopotamus again made his way to the bottom of the pool. The peasants regained their feet and pulled on the rope and cords. Again the hippopotamus rose and was dragged to the shallow, only to break away again. For eight or ten times this happened.

"He is getting tired now," the hunter said. "Next time or the time after they will get him on shore. We will land then and attack him with spears and arrows."

The hippopotamus was indeed exhausted, and allowed itself to be dragged ashore at the next effort without opposition. As soon as it did so he was attacked with spears by the hunters, Jethro, and the boys. The latter found that they were unable to drive their weapons through the thick skin, and betook themselves to their bows and arrows. The hunters, however, knew the points at which the skin was thinnest, and drove their spears deep into the animal just behind the fore leg, while the boys shot their arrows at its mouth. Another noose had been thrown over its head as it issued from the water, and the peasants pulling on the ropes prevented it from charging. Three or four more thrusts were given from the hunters; then one of the spears touched a vital part—the hippopotamus sank on its knees and rolled over dead.

The peasants sent up a shout of joy, for the flesh of the hippopotamus is by no means bad eating, and here was a store of food sufficient for the whole neighborhood.

"Shall we search for another, my lord?" the hunter asked Chebron.

"No. I think I have had enough of this. There is no fun in killing an animal that has not spirit to defend itself. What do you think, Amuba?"

"I quite agree with you, Chebron. One might almost as well slaughter a cow. What is that?" he exclaimed suddenly as a loud scream was heard at a short distance away. "It is a woman's voice."

Chebron darted off in full speed in the direction of the sound, closely followed by Amuba and Jethro. They ran about a hundred yards along the bank, when they saw the cause of the outcry. An immense crocodile was making his way toward the river, dragging along with it the figure of a woman.

In spite of his reverence for the crocodile Chebron did not hesitate a moment, but rushing forward smote the crocodile on the nose with all his strength with the shaft of his spear. The crocodile dropped its victim and turned upon its assailant, but Jethro and Amuba were close behind, and these also attacked him. The crocodile seeing this accession of enemies now set out for the river, snapping its jaws together.

"Mind its tail!" one of the hunters exclaimed, running up.

But the warning was too late, for the next moment Amuba received a tremendous blow which sent him to the ground. The hunter at the same moment plunged his spear into the animal through the soft skin at the back of its leg. Jethro followed his example on the other side. The animal checked its flight, and turning round and round lashed with its tail in all directions.

"Keep clear of it!" the hunter shouted. "It is mortally wounded and will need no more blows."

In fact, the crocodile had received its death-wound. Its movements became more languid, it ceased to lash its tail, though it still snapped at those nearest to it, but gradually this action also ceased, its head sank, and it was dead. Jethro as soon as he had delivered his blow ran to Amuba.

"Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously.

"No, I don't think so," Amuba gasped. "The brute has knocked all the breath out of my body; but that's better than if he had hit me in the leg, for I think he would have broken it had he done so. How is the woman—is she dead?"

"I have not had time to see," Jethro replied. "Let me help you to your feet, and let us see if any of your ribs are broken. I will see about her afterward."

Amuba on getting up declared that he did not think he was seriously hurt, although unable for the time to stand upright.

"I expect I am only bruised, Jethro. It was certainly a tremendous whack he gave me, and I expect I shall not be able to take part in any sporting for the next few days. The crocodile was worth a dozen hippopotami. There was some courage about him."

They now walked across to Chebron, who was stooping over the figure of the crocodile's victim.

"Why, she is but a girl!" Amuba exclaimed. "She is no older than your sister, Chebron."

"Do you think she is dead?" Chebron asked in hushed tones.

"I think she has only fainted," Jethro replied. "Here," he shouted to one of the peasants who were gathered round the crocodile, "one of you run down to the water and bring up a gourdful."

"I don't think she is dead," Amuba said. "It seemed to me that the crocodile had seized her by the leg."

"We must carry her somewhere," Jethro said, "and get some woman to attend to her. I will see if there is a hut near." He sprang up to the top of some rising ground and looked round. "There is a cottage close at hand," he said as he returned. "I dare say she belongs there."

Bidding two of the peasants run to fetch some women, he lifted up the slight figure and carried her up the slope, the two lads following. On turning round the foot of a sandhill they saw a cottage lying nestled behind it. It was neater and better kept than the majority of the huts of the peasants. The walls of baked clay had been whitewashed and were half-covered with bright flowers. A patch of carefully cultivated ground lay around it. Jethro entered the cottage. On a settle at the further end a man was sitting. He was apparently of great age; his hair and long beard were snowy white.

"What is it?" he exclaimed as Jethro entered. "Has the God of our fathers again smitten me in my old age, and taken from me my pet lamb? I heard her cry, but my limbs have lost their power, and I could not rise to come to her aid."

"I trust that the child is not severely injured," Jethro said. "We had just killed a hippopotamus when we heard her scream, and running up found a great crocodile dragging her to the river, but we soon made him drop her. I trust that she is not severely hurt. The beast seemed to us to have seized her by the leg. We have sent to fetch some women. Doubtless they will be here immediately. Ah! here's the water."

He laid the girl down upon a couch in the corner of the room, and taking the gourd from the peasant who brought it sprinkled some water on her face, while Amuba, by his direction, rubbed her hands. It was some minutes before she opened her eyes, and just as she did so two women entered the hut. Leaving the girl to their care, Jethro and the boys left the cottage.

"I trust that the little maid is not greatly hurt," Amuba said. "By her dress it seems to me that she is an Israelite, though I thought we had left their land behind us on the other side of the desert. Still her dress resembles those of the women we saw in the village as we passed, and it is well for her it does so, for they wear more and thicker garments than the Egyptian peasant women, and the brute's teeth may not have torn her severely."

In a few minutes one of the women came out and told them that the maid had now recovered and that she was almost unhurt. "The crocodile seems to have seized her by her garments rather than her flesh, and although the teeth have bruised her, the skin is unbroken. Her grandfather would fain thank you for the service you have rendered him."

They re-entered the cottage. The girl was sitting on the ground at her grandfather's feet holding one of his hands in hers, while with his other he was stroking her head. As they entered, the women, seeing that their services were no longer required, left the cottage.

"Who are those to whom I owe the life of my grandchild?" the old man asked.

"I am Chebron, the son of Ameres, the high priest of the temple of Osiris at Thebes. These are my friends, Amuba and Jethro, two of the Rebu nation who were brought to Egypt and now live in my father's household."

"We are his servants," Amuba said, "though he is good enough to call us his friends."

"'Tis strange," the old man said, "that the son of a priest of Osiris should thus come to gladden the last few hours of one who has always withstood the Egyptian gods. And yet had the crocodile carried off my Ruth, it might have been better for her, seeing that ere the sun has risen and set many times she will be alone in the world."

The girl uttered a little cry, and rising on her knees threw her arms round the old man's neck.

"It must be so, my Ruth. I have lived a hundred and ten years in this land of the heathen, and my course is run; and were it not for your sake I should be glad that it is so, for my life has been sorrow and bitterness. I call her my grandchild, but she is in truth the daughter of my grandchild, and all who stood between her and me have passed away before me and left us alone together. But she trusts in the God of Abraham, and he will raise up a protector for her."

Chebron, who had learned something of the traditions of the Israelites dwelling in Egypt, saw by the old man's words that Jethro's surmises were correct and that he belonged to that race.

"You are an Israelite," he said gently. "How is it that you are not dwelling among your people instead of alone among strangers?"

"I left them thirty years back when Ruth's mother was but a tottering child. They would not suffer me to dwell in peace among them, but drove me out because I testified against them."

"Because you testified against them?" Chebron repeated in surprise.

"Yes. My father was already an old man when I was born, and he was one of the few who still clung to the faith of our fathers. He taught me that there was but one God, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, and that all other gods were but images of wood and stone. To that faith I clung, though after awhile I alone of all our people held to the belief. The others had forgotten their God and worshiped the gods of the Egyptians. When I would speak to them they treated my words as ravings and as casting dishonor on the gods they served.

"My sons went with the rest, but my daughter learned the true faith from my lips and clung to it. She taught her daughter after her, and ten years ago, when she too lay dying, she sent Ruth by a messenger to me, praying me to bring her up in the faith of our fathers, and saying that though she knew I was of a great age, she doubted not that when my time came God would raise up protectors for the child. So for ten years we have dwelt here together, tilling and watering our ground and living on its fruit and by the sale of baskets that we weave and exchange for fish with our neighbors. The child worships the God of our fathers, and has grown and thriven here for ten years; but my heart is heavy at the thought that my hours are numbered and that I see no way after me but that Ruth shall return to our people, who will assuredly in time wean her from her faith."

"Never, grandfather," the girl said firmly. "They may beat me and persecute me, but I will never deny my God."

"They are hard people the Israelites," the old man said, shaking his head, "and they are stubborn and must needs prevail against one so tender. However, all matters are in the hands of God, who will again reveal himself in his due time to his people who have forgotten him."

Amuba, looking at the girl, thought that she had more power of resistance than the old man gave her credit for. Her face was of the same style of beauty as that of some of the young women he had seen in the villages of the Israelites, but of a higher and finer type. Her face was almost oval, with soft black hair, and delicately marked eyebrows running almost in a straight line below her forehead. Her eyes were large and soft, with long lashes veiling them, but there was a firmness about the lips and chin that spoke of a determined will, and gave strength to her declaration "Never."

There was silence a moment, and then Chebron said almost timidly:

"My father, although high priest of Osiris, is not a bigot in his religion. He is wise and learned, and views all things temperately, as my friends here can tell you. He knows of your religion; for I have heard him say that when they first came into this land the Israelites worshiped one God only. I have a sister who is of about the same age as Ruth, and is gentle and kind. I am sure that if I ask my father he will take your grandchild into his household to be a friend and companion to Mysa, and I am certain that he would never try to shake her religion, but would let her worship as she chooses."

The old man looked fixedly at Chebron.

"Your speech is pleasant and kind, young sir, and your voice has an honest ring. A few years back I would have said that I would rather the maiden were dead than a handmaid in the house of an Egyptian; but as death approaches we see things differently, and it may be that she would be better there than among those who once having known the true God have forgotten him and taken to the worship of idols. I have always prayed and believed that God would raise up protectors for Ruth, and it seems to me now that the way you have been brought hither in these latter days of my life is the answer to my prayer. Ruth, my child, you have heard the offer, and it is for you to decide. Will you go with this young Egyptian lord and serve his sister as a handmaiden, or will you return to the villages of our people?"

Ruth had risen to her feet now, and was looking earnestly at Chebron, then her eyes turned to the faces of Amuba and Jethro, and then slowly went back again to Chebron.

"I believe that God has chosen for me," she said at last, "and has sent them here not only to save my life, but to be protectors to me; their faces are all honest and good. If the father of this youth will receive me, I will, when you leave me, go and be the handmaid of his daughter."

"It is well," the old man said. "Now I am ready to depart, for my prayers have been heard. May God deal with you and yours, Egyptian, even as you deal with my child."

"May it be so," Chebron replied reverently.

"I can tell you," Jethro said to the old man, "that in no household in Egypt could your daughter be happier than in that of Ameres. He is the lord and master of Amuba and myself, and yet, as you see, his son treats us not as servants, but as friends. Ameres is one of the kindest of men; and as to his daughter Mysa, whose special attendant I am, I would lay down my life to shield her from harm. Your grandchild could not be in better hands. As to her religion, although Ameres has often questioned Amuba and myself respecting the gods of our people, he has never once shown the slightest desire that we should abandon them for those of Egypt."

"And now," Chebron said, "we will leave you; for doubtless the excitement has wearied you, and Ruth needs rest and quiet after her fright. We are encamped a mile away near the lake, and will come and see you to-morrow."

Not a word was spoken for some time after they left the house, and then Chebron said:

"It really would almost seem as if what that old man said was true, and that his God had sent us there that a protector might be found for his daughter. It was certainly strange that we should happen to be within sound of her voice when she was seized by that crocodile, and be able to rescue her just in time. It needed, you see, first, that we should be there, then that the crocodile should seize her at that moment, and, lastly, that we should be just in time to save her being dragged into the river. A crocodile might have carried her away ten thousand times without any one being within reach to save her and the chances were enormously against any one who did save her being in a position to offer her a suitable home at her grandfather's death."

"It is certainly strange. You do not think that your father will have any objection to take her?" Amuba asked.

"Oh, no; he may say that he does not want any more servants in the house, but I am sure that when he sees her he will be pleased to have such a companion for Mysa. If it was my mother I do not know. Most likely she would say no; but when she hears that it has all been settled, she will not trouble one way or the other about it. I will write my father a letter telling him all about it, and send off one of the slaves with it at once. He can get back to-morrow, and it will gladden the old man's heart to know that it is all arranged. I wish to tell my father, too, of my trouble."

"What trouble?" Amuba asked in surprise. "You have told me nothing about anything troubling you."

"Do you not understand, Amuba? I am in trouble because I struck the crocodile; it is an impious action, and yet what could I do?"

Amuba repressed an inclination to smile.

"You could do nothing else, Chebron, for there was no time to mince matters. He was going too fast for you to explain to him that he was doing wrong in carrying off a girl, and you therefore took the only means in your power of stopping him; besides, the blow you dealt him did him no injury whatever. It was Jethro and the hunter who killed him."

"But had I not delayed his flight they could not have done so."

"That is true enough, Chebron; but in that case he would have reached the water with his burden and devoured her at his leisure. Unless you think that his life is of much more importance than hers, I cannot see that you have anything to reproach yourself with."

"You do not understand me, Amuba," Chebron said pettishly. "Of course I do not think that the life of an ordinary animal is of as much importance as that of a human being; but the crocodiles are sacred, and misfortune falls upon those who injure them."

"Then in that case, Chebron, misfortune must fall very heavily on the inhabitants of those districts where the crocodile is killed wherever he is found. I have not heard that pestilence and famine visit those parts of Egypt with more frequency than they do the districts where the crocodile is venerated."

Chebron made no answer. What Amuba said was doubtless true; but upon the other hand, he had always been taught that the crocodile was sacred, and if so he could not account for the impunity with which these creatures were destroyed in other parts of Egypt. It was another of the puzzles that he so constantly met with. After a long pause he replied:

"It may seem to be as you say; but you see, Amuba, there are some gods specially worshiped in one district, others in another. In the district that a god specially protects he would naturally be indignant were the animals sacred to him to be slain, while he might pay no heed to the doings in those parts in which he is little concerned."

"In that case, Chebron, you can clearly set your mind at rest. Let us allow that it is wrong to kill a crocodile in the district in which he is sacred and where a god is concerned about his welfare, but that no evil consequences can follow the slaying of him in districts in which he is not sacred, and where his god, as you say, feels little interest in him."

"I hope that is so, Amuba; and that as the crocodile is not a sacred animal here no harm may come from my striking one, though I would give much that I had not been obliged to do so. I hope that my father will regard the matter in the same light."

"I have no doubt that he will do so, Chebron, especially as we agreed that you did no real harm to the beast."

"Is it not strange, Jethro," Amuba said when Chebron had gone into the tent, "that wise and learned people like the Egyptians should be so silly regarding animals?"

"It is strange, Amuba, and it was hard to keep from laughing to hear you so gravely arguing the question with Chebron. If all the people held the same belief I should not be surprised; but as almost every animal worshiped in one of the districts is hated and slain in another, and that without any evil consequences arising, one would have thought that they could not but see for themselves the folly of their belief. What are we going to do to-morrow?"

"I do not think that it is settled; we have had one day at each of the sports. Rabah said that to-morrow we could either go out and see new modes of fishing, or accompany the fowlers and watch them catching birds in the clap nets, or go out into the desert and hunt ibex. Chebron did not decide, but I suppose when he has finished his letter we shall hear what he intends to do."

After Chebron had finished his letter, which was a long one, he called Rabah and asked him to dispatch it at once by the fleetest-footed of the slaves.

"He will get there," he said, "before my father retires to rest. If he does not reply at once, he will probably answer in the morning, and at any rate the man ought to be back before midday."

At dinner Amuba asked Chebron whether he had decided what they should do the next day.

"We might go and look at the men with the clap nets," Chebron answered. "They have several sorts in use, and take numbers of pigeons and other birds. I think that will be enough for to-morrow. We have had four days' hard work, and a quiet day will be pleasant, and if we find the time goes slowly, we can take a boat across the lake and look at the Great Sea beyond the sandhills that divide the lake from it; beside, I hope we shall get my father's answer, and I should like some further talk with that old Israelite. It is interesting to learn about the religion that his forefathers believed in, and in which it seems that he and his grandchild are now the last who have faith."

"It will suit me very well to have a quiet day, Chebron; for in any case I do not think I could have accompanied you. My ribs are sore from the whack the crocodile gave me with his tail, and I doubt whether I shall be able to walk to-morrow."

Indeed, the next morning Amuba was so stiff and sore that he was unable to rise from his couch.

Soon after breakfast the messenger returned, bringing a letter from Ameres. It was as follows:

"It seems to me, Chebron, that Mysa has no occasion for further attendants; but as your story of this old Israelite and his daughter interests me, and the girl is of Mysa's age and might be a pleasant companion for her, I have no objection to her entering our household. I should have liked to talk with the old man himself, and to have heard from him more about the religion that Joseph and his people brought to Egypt. It is recorded in some of the scrolls that these people were monotheists; but although I have many times questioned Israelites, all have professed to be acquainted with no religion but that of Egypt. If you have further opportunity find out as much as you can from this old man upon the subject.

"Assure him from me that his daughter shall be kindly treated in my household, and that no attempt whatever will be made to turn her from the religion she professes. As to your adventure with the crocodile, I do not think that your conscience need trouble you. It would certainly be unfortunate to meet in Upper Egypt a crocodile carrying off a peasant, and I am not called upon to give an opinion as to what would be the proper course to pursue under the circumstances; but as you are at present in a district where the crocodile, instead of being respected, is held in detestation, and as the people with you would probably have overtaken and slain him even without your intervention, I do not think that you need trouble yourself about the knock that you gave him across his snout. Had I found myself in the position you did I should probably have taken the same course. With respect to the girl, you had best give them instructions that when the old man dies she shall travel by boat to Thebes; arrived there, she will find no difficulty in learning which is my house, and on presenting herself there she will be well received. I will write at once to Mysa, telling her that you have found a little Israelite handmaiden as her special attendant, and that, should the girl arrive before my return, she is at once to assume that position.

"It would not do for her to come here were her grandfather to die before we leave for home. In the first place, she would be in the way, and in the second, her features and dress would proclaim her to be an Israelite. The people in the villages she passed through might detain her, and insist on her remaining with them; or, should she arrive here, the fact of her departing with us might be made a subject of complaint, and the Israelites would not improbably declare that I had carried off a young woman of their tribe as a slave. Therefore, in all respects it is better that she should proceed up the river to Thebes.

"As they are poor you had best leave a sum of money with them to pay for her passage by boat, and for her support during the voyage. I find that I shall have finished with the steward earlier than I had expected, and shall be starting in about three days to inspect the canals and lay out plans for some fresh ones; therefore, if by that time you have had enough sport to satisfy you, you had best journey back."

"My father has consented," Chebron said joyously as he finished the letter. "I felt sure that he would; still, I was anxious till I got the letter, for it would have been a great disappointment to the old man could it not have been managed. I will go off and tell him at once. I shall not want you this morning, Jethro; so you can either stay here with Amuba or do some fishing or fowling on the lake. The boat is all in readiness, you know."

Chebron went off to the cottage. Ruth was in the garden tending the vegetables, and he stopped to speak to her before entering.

"I have not heard yet," he said, "how it came about that you were seized by the crocodile."

"I hardly know how it was," she said. "I am in the habit of going down many times a day to fetch up water for the garden, and I always keep a lookout for these creatures before I fill my jar; but yesterday I had just gone round the corner of the sandhill when I was struck down with a tremendous blow, and a moment afterward the creature seized me. I gave a scream; but I thought I was lost, for there are no neighbors within sound of the voice, and my grandfather has not been able to walk for months. Then I prayed as well as I could for the pain, and God heard me and sent you to deliver me."

"It is not often that they go up so far from the river, is it?"

"Not often. But yesterday we had a portion of a kid from a neighbor and were cooking it, and perhaps the smell attracted the crocodile; for they say that they are quick at smell, and they have been known to go into cottages and carry off meat from before the fire."

"I see you walk very lame still."

"Yes. Grandfather would have me keep still for a day or two; but I think that as soon as the bruises die out and the pain ceases I shall be as well as ever. Beside, what would the garden do without water? My grandfather will be glad to see you, my lord; but he is rather more feeble than usual this morning. The excitement of yesterday has shaken him."

She led the way into the cottage.

"Your granddaughter has told me you are not very strong to-day," Chebron began.

"At my age," the old man said, "even a little thing upsets one, and the affair of yesterday was no little thing. I wonder much that the agitation did not kill me."

"I have satisfactory news to give you," Chebron said. "I yesterday dispatched a message to my father, and have just received the answer." And taking out the scroll he read aloud the portion in which Ameres stated his readiness to receive Ruth in his household, and his promise that no pressure whatever should be put upon her to abandon her religion.

"The Lord be praised!" the old man exclaimed. "The very animals are the instruments of his will, and the crocodile that threatened death to the child was, in truth, the answer sent to my prayer. I thank you, my young lord; and as you and yours deal with my child, so may the God of my fathers deal with you. But she may stay on with me for the little time that remains, may she not?"

"Surely. We should not think of taking her now. My father sends instructions as to what she is to do, and money to pay for her journey up the Nile to Thebes. This is what he says." And he read the portion of the scroll relating to the journey. "And now," he said, "let me read to you what my father says about your religion. He is ever a searcher after truth, and would fain that I should hear from your lips and repeat to him all that you can tell me relating to this God whom you worship."

"That will I with gladness, my young lord. The story is easily told, for it is simple, and not like that of your religion with its many deities."

Chebron took a seat upon a pile of rushes and prepared to listen to the old man's story of the God of the Israelites.



CHAPTER VIII.

THE CONSPIRACY IN THE TEMPLE.

For two days longer the party lingered by the side of the lake fishing and fowling, and then returned across the desert to the headquarters of Ameres. Two months were spent in examining canals and water courses, seeing that the dykes were strengthened where needed, and that the gates and channels were in good repair. Levels were taken for the construction of several fresh branches, which would considerably extend the margin of cultivation. The natives were called upon to furnish a supply of labor for their formation; but the quota was not furnished without considerable grumbling on the part of the Israelites, although Ameres announced that payment would be given them for their work. At last, having seen that everything was in train, Ameres left one of his subordinates to carry out the work, and then started with his son for Thebes.

A fortnight after his return home he was informed that a young female, who said her name was Ruth, wished to see him. He bade the servant conduct her to him, and at the same time summon Chebron from his studies. The lad arrived first, and as Ruth entered presented her to his father.

"Welcome, child, to this house," the high priest said. "I suppose by your coming that the old man, your great-grandfather, of whom my son has spoken to me, is no more?"

"He died a month since, my lord," Ruth replied; "but it was two weeks before I could find a passage in a boat coming hither."

"Chebron, tell Mysa to come here," Ameres said, and the lad at once fetched Mysa, who had already heard that an Israelite girl was coming to be her special attendant, and had been much interested in Chebron's account of her and her rescue from the crocodile.

"This is Ruth, Mysa," Ameres said when she entered, "who has come to be with you. She has lost her last friend, and I need not tell you, my child, to be kind and considerate with her. You know what you would suffer were you to be placed among strangers, and how lonely you would be at first. She will be a little strange to our ways, but you will soon make her at home, I hope."

"I will try and make her happy," Mysa replied, looking at her new companion.

Although the girls were about the same age, Ruth looked the elder of the two. Mysa was still little more than a child, full of fun and life. Ruth was broken down by the death of her grandfather and by the journey she had made; but in any case she would have looked older than Mysa, the difference being in manner rather than in face or figure. Ruth had long had many responsibilities on her shoulders. There was the care and nursing of the old man, the cultivation of the garden on which their livelihood depended, the exchange of its products for other articles, the preparation of the meals. Her grandfather had been in the habit of talking to her as a grown-up person, and there was an expression of thoughtfulness and gravity in her eyes. Mysa, on the contrary, was still but a happy child, who had never known the necessity for work or exertion; her life had been like a summer day, free from all care and anxiety. Naturally, then, she felt as she looked at Ruth that she was a graver and more serious personage than she had expected to see.

"I think I shall like you," she said when her examination was finished, "when we know each other a little better, and I hope you will like me; because, as my father says, we are to be together."

"I am sure we shall," Ruth replied, looking admiringly at Mysa's bright face. "I have never had anything to do with girls of my own age, and you will find me clumsy at first; but I will do my best to please you, for your father and brother have been very good to me."

"There, take her away, Mysa. I have told your mother about her coming, and want to go on with my reading," Ameres said. "Show her your garden and animals, and where she is to sleep; and give her in charge of old Male, who will see that she has all that she wants, and get suitable garments and all that is requisite."

Before many days were over Ruth became quite at home in her new abode. Her position was a pleasant one. She was at once companion and attendant to Mysa, accompanying her in her walks under the escort of Jethro, playing with her in the garden, helping her to feed the animals, and amusing her when she preferred to sit quiet by telling her about her life near the lake by the Great Sea, about the fowling and fishing there, and especially about the river course close to the cottage, with its hippopotami and crocodiles. Ruth brightened up greatly in her new surroundings, which to her were marvelous and beautiful; and she soon caught something of the cheerfulness of her young mistress, and the laughter of the two girls was often heard rising from Mysa's inclosure at the further end of the quiet garden.

Shortly after the return from their visit to Lower Egypt an important event took place, Chebron being initiated into the lowest grade of the priesthood. His duties at first were slight; for aspirants to the higher order, who were with scarce an exception the sons of the superior priesthood, were not expected to perform any of the drudgery that belonged properly to the work of the lower class of the order. It was necessary to ascend step by step; but until they arrived at the grade beyond which study and intelligence alone led to promotion, their progress was rapid, and they were expected only to take part in such services and ceremonies of the temple as required the attendance of all attached to it.

His duties, therefore, interfered but little with his studies or ordinary mode of life, and he was almost as much at home as before. He could now, however, enter the temple at all hours, and had access to the inner courts and chambers, the apartments where the sacred animals were kept, and other places where none but the priests were permitted to enter. He availed himself of this privilege chiefly of an evening. All the great courts were open to the sky, and Chebron loved to roam through them in the bright moonlight, when they were deserted by the crowd of worshipers and all was still and silent. At that time the massive columns, the majestic architecture, the strange figures of the gods exercised an influence upon his imagination which was wanting in the daytime. Upon the altars before the chief gods fire ever burned, and in the light of the flickering flames the faces assumed life and expression.

Now and then a priest in his white linen robe moved through the deserted courts; but for the most part Chebron had undisturbed possession, and was free to meditate without interruption. He found that his mind was then attuned to a pitch of reverence and devotion to the gods that it failed to attain when the sun was blazing down upon the marble floor and the courts were alive with worshipers. Then, strive as he would, he could not enter as he wanted into the spirit of the scene. When he walked in the solemn procession carrying a sacred vessel or one of the sacred emblems, doubts whether there could be anything in common between the graven image and the god it represented would occur to him.

He would wonder whether the god was really gratified by these processions, whether he felt any real pleasure in the carrying about of sacred vessels, emblems, and offerings of flowers. He was shocked at his own doubts, and did his best to banish them from his mind. At times it seemed to him that some heavy punishment must fall upon him for permitting himself to reason on matters so far beyond his comprehension, and he now rejoiced at what he before was inclined to regret, that his father had decided against his devoting his whole life to the service of the temple.

Sometimes he thought of speaking to his father and confessing to him that his mind was troubled with doubts, but the thought of the horror with which such a confession would be received deterred him from doing so. Even to Amuba he was silent on the subject, for Amuba he thought would not understand him. His friend believed firmly in the gods of his own country, but accepted the fact that the Egyptian deities were as powerful for good or evil to the Egyptians as were his own to the Rebu. And, indeed, the fact that the Egyptians were so great and powerful, and prevailed over other nations, was, he was inclined to think, due to the superior power of their gods.

The majesty of the temples, the splendor of the processions, and the devoutness with which the people worshiped their gods, alike impressed him; and although the strangeness of the images struck him as singular, he was ready to admit that the gods might take any shape they pleased. Thus, then, Chebron could look for no sympathy from him, and shrank from opening his mind to him. Nevertheless he sometimes took Amuba with him in his visits to the temple. The doors at all times stood open, and any could enter who chose, and had they in the inner courts met with any of the priests, Amuba would have passed unnoticed as being one of the attendants of the temple in company with Chebron.

But few words were exchanged between the lads during these rambles, for the awful grandeur of the silent temple and its weird aspect in the moonlight affected Amuba as strongly as it did Chebron. At times he wondered to himself whether if he ever returned home and were to introduce the worship of these terrible gods of Egypt, they would extend their protection to the Rebu.

Near the house of Ameres stood that of Ptylus, a priest who occupied a position in the temple of Osiris, next in dignity to that of the high priest.

Between the two priests there was little cordiality, for they differed alike in disposition and manner of thought. Ptylus was narrow and bigoted in his religion, precise in every observance of ceremonial; austere and haughty in manner, professing to despise all learning beyond that relating to religion, but secretly devoured with jealousy at the esteem in which Ameres was held by the court, and his reputation as one of the first engineers, astronomers and statesmen of Egypt. He had been one of the fiercest in the opposition raised to the innovations proposed by Ameres, and had at the time exerted himself to the utmost to excite such a feeling against him as would render it necessary for him to resign his position in the temple.

His disappointment had been intense when—owing in no slight degree to the influence of the king himself, who regarded Ameres with too much trust and affection to allow himself to be shaken in his confidence even by what he held to be the erroneous views of the high priest of Osiris—his intrigue came to nothing; but he had ever since kept an unceasing watch upon the conduct of his colleague, without, however, being able to find the slightest pretense for complaint against him. For Ameres was no visionary; and having failed in obtaining a favorable decision as to the views he entertained, he had not striven against the tide, knowing that by doing so he would only involve himself and his family in ruin and disgrace, without forwarding in the smallest degree the opinions he held.

He was thus as exact as ever in his ministration in the temple, differing only from the other performers of the sacred rites inasmuch as while they offered their sacrifices to Osiris himself, he in his heart dedicated his offerings to the great God of whom Osiris was but a feeble type or image.

A certain amount of intimacy was kept up between the two families. Although there was no more liking between the wives of the two priests than between their husbands, they were of similar dispositions—both were fond of show and gayety, both were ambitious; and although in society both exhibited to perfection the somewhat gentle and indolent manner which was considered to mark high breeding among the women of Egypt, the slaves of both knew to their cost that in their own homes their bearing was very different.

In their entertainments and feasts there was constant rivalry between them, although the wife of the high priest considered it nothing short of insolence that the wife of one inferior to her husband's rank should venture to compete with her; while upon the other hand, the little airs of calm superiority her rival assumed when visiting her excited the deepest indignation and bitterness in the heart of the wife of Ptylus. She, too, was aware of the enmity that her husband bore to Ameres, and did her best to second him by shaking her head and affecting an air of mystery whenever his name was mentioned, leaving her friends to suppose that did she choose she could tell terrible tales to his disadvantage.

Ameres on his part had never alluded at home either to his views concerning religion or to his difference of opinion with his colleagues. There was but little in common between him and his wife. He allowed her liberty to do as she chose, to give frequent entertainments to her female friends, and to spend money as she liked so long as his own mode of life was not interfered with. He kept in his own hands, too, the regulation of the studies of Chebron and Mysa.

One day when he was in his study his wife entered. He looked up with an expression of remonstrance, for it was an understood thing that when occupied with his books he was on no account to be disturbed except upon business of importance.

"You must not mind my disturbing you for once, Ameres; but an important thing has happened. Nicotis, the wife of Ptylus, has been here this afternoon, and what do you think she was the bearer of—a proposal from her husband and herself that their son Plexo should marry our Mysa."

Ameres uttered an exclamation of surprise and anger.

"She is a child at present; the thing is ridiculous!"

"Not so much a child, Ameres, after all. She is nearer fifteen than fourteen, and betrothal often takes place a year earlier. I have been thinking for some time of talking the matter over with you, for it is fully time that we thought of her future."

Ameres was silent. What his wife said was perfectly true, and Mysa had reached the age at which the Egyptian maidens were generally betrothed. It came upon him, however, as an unpleasant surprise. He had regarded Mysa as still a child, and his affections were centered in her and Chebron; for his eldest son, who resembled his mother in spirit, he had but little affection or sympathy.

"Very well," he said at last in a tone of irritation very unusual to him, "if Mysa has reached the age when we must begin to think whom she is to marry, we will think of it, but there is no occasion whatever for haste. As to Plexo, I have marked him often when he has been here with Chebron, and I do not like his disposition. He is arrogant and overbearing, and, at the same time, shallow and foolish. Such is not the kind of youth to whom I shall give Mysa."

The answer did not quite satisfy his wife. She agreed with him in objecting to the proposed alliance, but on entirely different grounds. She had looked forward to Mysa making a brilliant match, which would add to her own consequence and standing. On ceremonial occasions, as the wife of the high priest, and herself a priestess of Osiris, she was present at all the court banquets; but the abstemious tastes and habits of Ameres prevented her from taking the part she desired in other festivities, and she considered that were Mysa to marry some great general, or perhaps even one of the princes of the blood, she would then be able to take that position in society to which she aspired, and considered, indeed, that she ought to fill as the wife of Ameres, high priest of Osiris and one of the most trusted counselors of the king.

Such result would certainly not flow from Mysa's marriage to the son of one of less rank in the temple than her husband, and far inferior in public estimation. Being content, however, that her husband objected to the match on other grounds, she abstained from pressing her own view of the subject, being perfectly aware that it was one with which Ameres would by no means sympathize. She therefore only said:

"I am glad that you object to the match, Ameres, and am quite in accord with you in your opinion of the son of Ptylus. But what reason shall I give Nicotis for declining the connection?"

"The true one, of course!" Ameres said in surprise. "What other reason could there be? In respect to position no objection could arise, nor upon that of wealth. He is an only son, and although Ptylus may not have so large an income as myself (for I have had much state employment), he can certainly afford to place his son in at least as good a position as we can expect for Mysa. Were we to decline the proposal without giving a reason Ptylus would have good ground for offense."

"I do not suppose, Amense, he will be pleased at fault being found with his son, but that we cannot help. Parents cannot expect others to see their offspring with the same eyes that they do. I should certainly feel no offense were I to propose for a wife for Chebron to receive as an answer that he lacked some of the virtues the parents required in a husband for their daughter. I might consider that Chebron had those virtues, but if they thought otherwise why should I be offended?"

"It is not everyone who sees matters as you do, Ameres, and no one likes having his children slighted. Still, if it is your wish that I should tell Nicotis that you have a personal objection to her son, of course I will do so."

"Do not put it that light, Amense. It is not that I have a personal objection to him. I certainly do not like him, but that fact has nothing to do with my decision. I might like him very much, and yet consider that he would not make Mysa a good husband; or, on the other hand, I might dislike him personally, and yet feel that I could safely intrust Mysa's happiness to him. You will say, then, to Nicotis that from what I have seen of Plexo, and from what I have learned of his character, it does not appear to me that a union between him and Mysa would be likely to conduce to her happiness; and that, therefore, I decline altogether to enter into negotiations for the bringing about of such a marriage."

Amense was well pleased, for she felt that this message, given in her husband's name, would be a great rebuff for her rival, and would far more than counterbalance the many triumphs she had gained over her by the recital of the number of banquets and entertainments in which she had taken part.

Had Amense been present when Nicotis informed Ptylus of the refusal of their proposal for the hand of Mysa, she might have felt that even the satisfaction of mortifying a rival may be dearly purchased.

"You know the woman, Ptylus, and can picture to yourself the air of insolence with which she declined our proposal. I wished at the moment we had been peasants' wives instead of ladies of quality. I would have given her cause to regret her insolence for a long time. As it was, it was as much as I could do to restrain myself, and to smile and say that perhaps, after all, the young people were not as well suited for each other as could be wished; and that we had only yielded to the wishes of Plexo, having in our mind another alliance which would in every respect be more advantageous. Of course she replied that she was glad to hear it, but she could not but know that I was lying, for the lotus flower I was holding in my hand trembled with the rage that devoured me."

"And it was, you say, against Plexo personally that the objection was made?" Ptylus said gloomily.

"So she seemed to say. Of course she would not tell me that she had set her mind on her daughter marrying one of the royal princes, though it is like enough that such is her thought, for the woman is pushing and ambitious enough for anything. She only said, in a formal sort of way, that while the alliance between the two families would naturally be most agreeable to them, her husband was of opinion that the dispositions of the young people were wholly dissimilar, and that he feared such a union would not be for the happiness of either; and that having perhaps peculiar ideas as to the necessity for husband and wife being of one mind in all matters, he thought it better that the idea should be abandoned. I had a mind to tell her that Ameres did not seem to have acted upon those ideas in his own case, for everyone knows that he and Amense have not a thought in common—that she goes her way and he goes his."

"Let them both beware!" Ptylus said. "They shall learn that we are not to be insulted with impunity. This Ameres, whom the people regard as so holy, is at heart a despiser of the gods. Had he not been a favorite of Thotmes he would ere now have been disgraced and degraded, and I should be high priest in his place; for his son, Neco, is too young for such a dignity. But he is ascending in the scale, and every year that his father lives and holds office he will come more and more to be looked upon as his natural successor. A few more years and my chance will be extinguished."

"Then," Nicotis said decidedly, "Ameres must not hold office for many more years. We have talked the matter over and over again, and you have always promised me that some day I should be the wife of the high priest, and that Plexo should stand first in the succession of the office. It is high time that you carried your promises into effect."

"It is time, Nicotis. This man has too long insulted the gods by ministering at their services, when in his heart he was false to them. It shall be so no longer; this last insult to us decides me! Had he agreed to our proposal I would have laid aside my own claims, and with my influence could have secured that Plexo, as his son-in-law, should succeed, rather than that shallow-brained fool, Neco. He has refused the offer, and he must bear the consequences. I have been too patient. I will be so no longer, but will act. I have a strong party among the upper priesthood who have long been of my opinion that Ameres is a disgrace to our caste and a danger to our religion. They will join me heart and soul, for they feel with me that his position as high priest is an outrage to the gods. Ask me no questions, Nicotis, but be assured that my promises shall be kept. I will be high priest; Plexo shall marry this child he fancies, for his doing so will not only strengthen my position, but render his own succession secure, by silencing those who might at my death seek to bring back the succession to Neco."

"That is well, Ptylus. I have long wondered that you were content to be lorded over by Ameres. If I can aid you in any way be sure that I will do so. By the way, Amense invited us to a banquet she is about to give next week. Shall we accept the invitation?"

"Certainly. We must not show that we are in any way offended at what has passed. As far as Ameres himself is concerned it matters not, for the man has so good an opinion of himself that nothing could persuade him that he has enemies; but it would not do, in view of what I have resolved upon, that any other should entertain the slightest suspicion that there exists any ill-feeling between us."

Great preparations were made by Amense for the banquet on the following week, for she had resolved that this should completely eclipse the entertainments of Nicotis. Ameres had, as usual, left everything in her hands, and she spared no expense. For a day or two previous large supplies of food arrived from the farm and from the markets in the city; and early on the morning of the entertainment a host of professional cooks arrived to prepare the dinner. The head cooks superintended their labors. The meat consisted of beef and goose, ibex, gazelle, and oryx; for although large flocks of sheep were kept for their wool, the flesh was not eaten by the Egyptians. There were, besides, great numbers of ducks, quails, and other small fowl. The chief cooks superintended the cutting up of the meat and the selection of the different joints for boiling or roasting. One servant worked with his feet a bellows, raising the fire to the required heat; another skimmed the boiling caldrons with a spoon; and a third pounded salt, pepper, and other ingredients in a large mortar. Bakers and confectioners made light bread and pastry; the former being made in the form of rolls, sprinkled at the top with carraway and other seeds. The confectionary was made of fruit and other ingredients mixed with dough, and this was formed by a skillful workman into various artistic shapes, such as recumbent oxen, vases, temples, and other forms. Besides the meats there was an abundance of all the most delicate kinds of fish.

When the hour of noon approached Ameres and Amense took their seats on two chairs at the upper end of the chief apartment, and as the guests arrived each came up to them to receive their welcome. When all had arrived the women took their places on chairs at the one side of the hall, the men on the other. Then servants brought in tables, piled up with dishes containing the viands, and in some cases filled with fruits and decorated with flowers, and ranged them down the center of the room.

Cups of wine were then handed round to the guests, lotus flowers presented to them to hold in their hands, and garlands of flowers placed round their necks. Stands, each containing a number of jars of wine, stoppered with heads of wheat and decked with garlands, were ranged about the room. Many small tables were now brought in, and round these the guests took their seats upon low stools and chairs—the women occupying those on one side of the room, the men those on the other.

The servants now placed the dishes on the small tables, male attendants waiting on the men, while the women were served by females. Egyptians were unacquainted with the use of knives and forks, the joints being cut up by the attendants into small pieces, and the guests helping themselves from the dishes with the aid of pieces of bread held between the fingers. Vegetables formed a large part of the meal, the meats being mixed with them to serve as flavoring; for in so hot a climate a vegetable diet is far more healthy than one composed principally of meat. While the meal was proceeding a party of female musicians, seated on the ground in one corner of the room, played and sang.

The banquet lasted for a long time, the number of dishes served being very large. When it was half over the figure of a mummy, of about three feet in length, was brought round and presented to each guest in succession, as a reminder of the uncertainty of existence. But as all present were accustomed to this ceremony it had but little effect, and the sound of conversation and laughter, although checked for a moment, broke out again as soon as the figure was removed. Wine of many kinds was served during the dinner, the women as well as the men partaking of it.

When all was concluded servants brought round golden basins with perfumed water and napkins, and the guests removed from their fingers the gravy that even with the daintiest care in feeding could not be altogether escaped. Then the small tables and stools were removed, and the guests took their places on the chairs along the sides of the room. Then parties of male and female dancers by turn came in and performed. Female acrobats and tumblers then entered, and went through a variety of performances, and jugglers showed feats of dexterity with balls, and other tricks, while the musicians of various nationalities played in turns upon the instruments in use in their own countries. All this time the attendants moved about among the guests, serving them with wine and keeping them supplied with fresh flowers. A bard recited an ode in honor of the glories of King Thotmes, and it was not until late in the evening that the entertainment came to an end.

"It has gone off splendidly," Amense said to Ameres when all was over, and the last guest had been helped away by his servants; for there were many who were unable to walk steadily unaided. "Nothing could have been better—it will be the talk of the whole town; and I could see Nicotis was devoured by envy and vexation. I do think great credit is due to me, Ameres, for you have really done nothing toward the preparations."

"I am perfectly willing that you should have all the credit, Amense," Ameres said wearily, "and I am glad that you are satisfied. To me the whole thing is tedious and tiresome to a degree. All this superabundance of food, this too lavish use of wine, and the postures and antics of the actors and dancers is simply disgusting. However, if everyone else was pleased, of course I am content."

"You are the most unsatisfactory husband a woman ever had," Amense said angrily. "I do believe you would be perfectly happy shut up in your study with your rolls of manuscript all your life, without seeing another human being save a black slave to bring you in bread and fruit and water twice a day."

"I think I should, my dear," Ameres replied calmly. "At any rate, I should prefer it vastly to such a waste of time, and that in a form to me so disagreeable as that I have had to endure to-day."



CHAPTER IX.

A STARTLING EVENT.

It was some days later that Chebron and Amuba again paid a visit to the temple by moonlight. It was well-nigh a month since they had been there; for, save when the moon was up, the darkness and gloom of the courts, lighted only by the lamps of the altars, was so great that the place offered no attractions. Amuba, free from the superstitions which influenced his companion, would have gone with him had he proposed it, although he too felt the influence of the darkness and the dim, weird figures of the gods, seen but faintly by the lights that burned at their feet. But to Chebron, more imaginative and easily affected, there was something absolutely terrible in the gloomy darkness, and nothing would have induced him to wander in the silent courts save when the moon threw her light upon them.

On entering one of the inner courts they found a massive door in the wall standing ajar.

"Where does this lead to?" Amuba asked.

"I do not know. I have never seen it open before. I think it must have been left unclosed by accident. We will see where it leads to."

Opening it they saw in front of them a flight of stairs in the thickness of the wall.

"It leads up to the roof," Chebron said in surprise. "I knew not there were any stairs to the roof, for when repairs are needed the workmen mount by ladders."

"Let us go up, Chebron; it will be curious to look down upon the courts."

"Yes, but we must be careful, Amuba; for, did any below catch sight of us, they might spread an alarm."

"We need only stay there a minute or two," Amuba urged. "There are so few about that we are not likely to be seen, for if we walk noiselessly none are likely to cast their eyes so far upward."

So saying Amuba led the way up the stairs, and Chebron somewhat reluctantly followed him. They felt their way as they went, and after mounting for a considerable distance found that the stairs ended in a narrow passage, at the end of which was an opening scarce three feet high and just wide enough for a man to pass through. This evidently opened into the outer air, as sufficient light passed through to enable them to see where they were standing. Amuba crept out through the opening at the end. Beyond was a ledge a foot wide; beyond that rose a dome some six feet high and eight or ten feet along the ledge.

"Come on, Chebron; there is plenty of room for both of us," he said, looking backward. Chebron at once joined him.

"Where can we be?" Amuba asked. "There is the sky overhead. We are twenty feet from the top of the wall, and where this ledge ends, just before it gets to the sides of this stone, it seems to go straight down."

Chebron looked round him.

"This must be the head of one of the statues," he said after a pause. "What a curious place! I wonder what it can have been made for. See, there is a hole here!"

Just in front of them was an opening of some six inches in diameter in the stone.

Amuba pushed his hand down.

"It seems to go a long way down," he said; "but it is narrowing," and removing his arm he looked down the hole.

"There is an opening at the other end," he said; "a small narrow slit. It must have been made to enable any one standing here to see down, though I don't think they could see much through so small a hole. I should think, Chebron, if this is really the top of the head of one of the great figures, that slit must be where his lips are. Don't you think so?"

Chebron agreed that it was probable.

"In that case," Amuba went on, "I should say that this hole must be made to allow the priests to give answers through the mouth of the image to supplications made to it. I have heard that the images sometimes gave answers to the worshipers. Perhaps this is the secret of it."

Chebron was silent. The idea was a painful one to him; for if this were so, it was evident that trickery was practiced.

"I think we had better go," he said at last. "We have done wrong in coming up here."

"Let me peep over the side first," Amuba said. "It seems to me that I can hear voices below."

But the projection of the head prevented his seeing anything beyond. Returning he put his foot in the hole and raised himself sufficiently to get on the top of the stone, which was here so much flattened that there was no risk of falling off. Leaning forward he looked over the edge. As Amuba had guessed would be the case, he found himself on the head of the principal idol in the temple. Gathered round the altar at its foot were seven or eight men, all of whom he knew by the whiteness of their garment to be priests. Listening intently he could distinctly hear their words. After waiting a minute he crawled back.