Part 9

Her smiling face turned at once to stone. She handed me a lamp with a freezing look, in this way trying to stem the tide of giggles that this request provoked. It was no use; the character of the sacred function was forever lost through my thoughtless way of asking for the lamp.

Slowly and alone, I "hiked" back to the hotel, feeling that as a receptionee I had "put my foot in it," and must in future be regarded as a social back number.

JERICHO

The Jordan and the Dead Sea

After visiting all the places in Jerusalem that were of interest to us, we set out in carriages for a long and tiresome drive to Jericho and its environs. We passed Gethsemane and went over the Mount of Olives to Bethany. The Mount of Olives is four thousand feet above sea level, and consequently has a perfect climate even in hot weather. From it we saw the plain of the Jordan and the mountains of Moab in the distance--truly a magnificent panorama. After awhile we reached the "Good Samaritan" Inn and had some rest and refreshments there. An old Bedouin, tall, spare, and with a fine, military bearing, had a lot of old flint-lock guns for sale at the inn, but his historical knowledge and dates were decidedly mixed. He didn't care anything about facts or the truth if he could only sell a gun to a credulous customer. To give verisimilitude to his statements, he said he had fought at Waterloo on the English side and had killed Napoleon with one of these guns--he did not know which, but the buyer could have his choice. As this was the grandest and most daring lie I had ever heard, I gave him an American quarter, for which he was very grateful, as he needed the money.

We went down through wild mountain gorges to the plain below. In former times the Bedouins who infest these mountains robbed the visitors and were a menace to travel, so it became the custom to "settle" with the chiefs for "protection" (from themselves) before starting. The management paid up for us and we were duly protected. In none of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic operas can any incident be found that is more delicious in its comicality and topsy-turvyism than was our experience with these bandit chiefs. They were mounted on small, nimble horses which had all the sure-footedness and agility of the chamois, and sprang from rock to rock with surprising certainty. The rider chief was armed to the teeth: he had a long rifle, that had not been fired since the last siege of Jerusalem slung across his back, round his body were courses of daggers, pistols and dirks--awfully bloodthirsty-looking things, don't you know; then he wore a magnificent, three-story turban, topped off with a big bunch of dyed green alfalfa; the tout ensemble was completed by a dark red, flowing robe which swept behind him in the wind like the wings of an angel of death. This great man would bow to us ceremoniously, place his hand on his heart, put spurs to his horse and dash to the top of the nearest hill; then, shading his eyes, he would scan the horizon with careful scrutiny. Now with leaps and bounds he would descend again, and planting himself before us in the road, would announce that there were no robbers in sight, or that his appearance had frightened them off, and then shout at the top of his voice,

"BAKSHISH! BAKSHISH!!"

although he had been already paid. There were four of them guarding us, and at the end they lined up across the road with the idea that we would have to settle, but we brushed through them, pushing some of them on their backs, so their bluff was "called."

Rooms were scarce at the Jordan hotels, and the drivers of the light carriages were anxious to get there ahead of one another in order to secure the first choice for their fares; so a general edging up took place which resulted finally in a steeplechase across the fields, in which several were thrown out. Our carriage led for the last mile, but was passed by two others at the finish, thus giving us third place and single rooms as our reward.

My apartment was a whitewashed cell, without ventilation, but it was "mine own" and I was happy. The mirror was hung so high that I had to make a pyramid of three boxes on which to stand while shaving. They were quite rickety, and I was between the Scylla of cutting my throat with the razor and the Charybdis of breaking my bones by a fall on the floor. Neither happened, however.

We went in to dinner. The hotel put up a fine showing of red napkins, plated cruet stands (with nothing in the bottles), bundles of toothpicks, last week's bread, bright green pickles (that had been dropped into some kind of pungent, commercial acid which would have made excellent rat poison); paper napkins with Corot landscapes printed on them; and plenty of gingersnaps and lady fingers, pretty thoroughly flyblown; the whole supplemented with sheaves of wild flowers cut in the fields with a scythe. It all looked grand and imposing for the money, but somehow lacked the substantial body (as well as fragrance) of beefsteak and onions. The piece de resistance however, really consisted of stewed kid and roast goat. I could not stomach either, so I went out and bought three fresh eggs from a native who kept hens, had them boiled four minutes and was the envy of the entire crowd ever after.

There was a large courtyard, and a big, dark, Byronic-looking dragoman came round and proposed a barbaric dance to our people. Ali Cocash was his name, and he described this dance as an imitation of a fierce and bloody orgy, such as the Bedouins indulge in after a great victory. They were to shout, grunt and brandish their guns, dirks, pistols and swords, and to behave generally in a very disreputable manner; in fact, Ali gravely intimated that it would be no place for timid ladies. This simply whetted our appetites and we promptly closed with him for the dance for a certain amount of "teep." The hat was passed and the tips put in. Then a row of about twenty-five as hangdog-looking Bedouins as were ever strung up in the Valley of Jehoshaphat began a kind of mewling cry, such as a rat would make in a trap. This did not satisfy us and we went for Cocash; we wanted "blood!" or at least an imitation of crime and deviltry. Ali consulted with the Bedouins and came back with a smiling solution of our difficulty. He said,

"My men have had a hard day's work and are tired and not able to do themselves justice, but if you give them more 'teep,' they will give you a good show and you will see something, sure."

Again the hat was passed, and the sons of the desert, after some rest, began anew. This time they brought torches with them, and they did make an abominable lot of noise and flung their armory about in a really reckless fashion. One of them dropped a burning torch on his neighbor and set fire to his clothes; this led to a fight which soon became general, and they began to bang one another right and left with anything that came to hand. Blood was flowing freely and the dragoman was in despair. He rushed into a stable and came out with a wooden pitchfork with which he drove them back, and restored order once more.

Two accomplished young ladies from the Cork then gave us a skirt dance, which happily closed a very exciting day. I went to bed in my cell. It was a fine, moonlight night, and a three-cornered contest soon started between donkeys braying, jackals howling and dogs barking; but we were very tired, and they made no more impression on us than would Raff's Cavatina played on the violin with a mute.

We were up early next morning and off for the Jordan and the Dead Sea. We stopped to look at and drink of Elisha's Fountain, a fine, copious spring forming a large stream. Near it I talked with several German officers who were making excavations for some German savants. They had got down to where the old buildings had been, and were pleased with their prospects. They were nice fellows, and very hospitable--strangers in a strange land usually are.

Next we came to Gilgal, and then to the Jordan. I crossed it in a canoe for sixpence--not that I had any business on the other side, but just to say that I did it, and to make some kind of a voyage for once without tips to the stewards on the passage. The river is about one hundred and thirty-seven miles long and falls three thousand feet on its way to the Dead Sea. They do a large bottling business at places on the banks, where the natives bottle the water and sell it to visitors for baptismal purposes all over the world.

Lower down is the Dead Sea; it is forty-seven miles long, nine miles wide, and thirteen hundred feet deep. Its surface is thirteen hundred feet below sea level; this and the shelter of the hills makes the country very hot in this valley. The Dead Sea water contains five times as much salt as the ocean. Six and a half million tons of water flow into it from the Jordan daily, which amount is evaporated, as the sea has no outlet. No living thing can exist in it, and the bathers who try to swim rise to the surface like corks.

We returned to Jerusalem the way we had come, meeting a train of eighty camels on the way, which some one called the "oriental express." After staying a couple of days at Jerusalem, we returned to the Cork, which was waiting for us at Joppa. The natives had not "moved" Simon the tanner's house again and we saw it once more.

We sailed for Alexandria and reached it next day. Alexandria is now a big, modern town and has a great history behind it, too long for any repetition here. Not long ago, before "Charley" Beresford, the popular Irish admiral, had gained his title, he commanded the Condor at the siege of this city, and before the Turks knew it he had stolen under their forts and they could not point their "graft"-made guns down on him. Through this advantage he "batted out" a famous victory and the Turks surrendered in short order. After he had completed the coup, his admiral signaled the now famous words, "Well done, Condor!" which rival the Duke's, "Up, Guards, and at them!" of Waterloo memory. He is to-day almost as well known and as great a favorite in America as he is in London.

We took the train and arrived at Cairo in four hours.

EGYPT

CAIRO

Cairo is the largest city in Africa, having a population of 570,000, of whom 35,000 are Europeans. It is the Paris of the East, and is the most varied and fascinating place on the earth. It is a military city with English soldiers, Arab lancers, Soudanese infantry and Egyptian cavalry, all in picturesque variety of uniform; added to this is the gayety of the official government life, all on pleasure bent. Most of their time is spent in play, as they only work from 10 till 1 P.M.--the climate prevents longer hours. Cairo has every amusement of the European capital, and each is played for all it is worth. I was there in 1874 on my way round the world, and I now found it so much changed and improved that it was a strange place to me. I stayed at "Shepheard's" both times. On my first visit this hotel was set in a tropical park and had no buildings near it; now it is closely surrounded by high, costly, substantial structures quite cosmopolitan in their appearance. It was the only good hotel then; now there are half a dozen rivals, as Egypt has become a great winter resort for fashion and health. From Shepheard's veranda, crowded with tourists, one may see hawkers of all kinds yelling, or coaxing possible purchasers, and offering post-cards, ornamental fly-whisks, walking-sticks, shawls, scarabs, etc.; snake charmers, boys with performing animals, jugglers, and every possible thing you can think of that might be bought for a souvenir; then we have the Egyptian women with blue gowns and their faces below the eyes hidden by hideous black veils; Bedouins from the desert; a pasha in state, with runners both before and behind his carriage; a professional letter-writer who for a couple of piastres will write a letter in almost any desired language; a camel train laden with oriental merchandise passing in the midst of trolley-cars, bicycles and automobiles; a fellah woman with a donkey loaded with baskets of poultry, or a turkey vendor driving his flock before him, guiding its movements by a palm branch; a milkman driving his cow and milking it in public for his waiting customers; a wedding procession preceded by a group of dancing girls, or two half-naked mountebanks engaging in pretended combats; a gaudily bedecked bride riding in a gorgeous palanquin borne by two camels, followed by camels carrying furniture and presents; a funeral procession with black-shawled professional mourners howling their mercenary grief--all this and more too is Cairo.

The climate of Egypt is peculiar: from noon till 5 P.M. it is hot and uncomfortable; the other nineteen hours are delightfully cool in winter, the air being very dry and healthful, with little or no rain. At Cairo the Citadel is the main attraction. It stands on a rampart two hundred and fifty feet above the city and is a splendid fortress. The city has many mosques--hundreds of them; the most important one is that of Sultan Hassan. The Museum is very interesting, and contains the best things from all the temples of Egypt, objects that could not well stand exposure nor the risk of theft. Then, of course, there are the Pyramids of Gizeh, three in number, and the Sphinx. These world wonders are about six miles from Cairo. Few will realize that the big one sits on a base of thirteen acres and is over four hundred and fifty feet high. Pick out in your mind's eye some large field of about that size, and then build it up from that base and you will have some idea of what this structure is like. It contains three million cubic yards of stone and was simply a tomb for an Egyptian king. It has a majestic dignity and impressiveness exceeding that of any other work of man; as it is approached one feels like an ant in its presence.

The Sphinx near by is of the same nature. It is sixty-six feet high, hewn out of the living rock. No one has discovered with what intention it was made nor what it is meant to represent. It is said to be the emblem of immortality, and it impresses the visitor with the idea that it sits serene in its nobility above the earth and its inhabitants and all else that the world contains. It has always been a riddle and will always remain one. A thought struck me when looking at the Pyramids and the Sphinx, and that was that no object of any kind, natural or artificial, has ever been seen by so many great men in all ages as has this group at Gizeh. For six thousand years the great of all nations have made an effort to look upon these mammoth monuments: Alexander saw them, so did Napoleon and Admiral Nelson; also the heroes of Salamis and Marathon; all the Roman emperors who could spare the time; lines of European kings and emperors; poets, sculptors and dramatists of ancient and modern days; statesmen, painters and writers--all made pilgrimages to them; while these very same stones were seen by Cleopatra, Mark Antony, Joseph, Jacob and Abraham, as well as by thousands who preceded them in history. They are awe-inspiring, and the spectator, do what he may, cannot release himself from this feeling.

A short ride on a camel round the group winds up the visit, and the view from the "high ground" of its back across the great desert convinces the rider that he is really in the East. Since it rarely storms in lower Egypt and rains are unknown here, this would seem to be the ideal spot for our new wind wagons. They would carry you above the flies, the reflected heat and the dust. Then, too, what a nice, soft place the sand would make for a final landing place!

Cairo lately had a real estate boom which ended in a financial crash. One man made about three million dollars in it, and when he lost this fortune committed suicide. They employed American methods, holding auction sales of lots in tents, with brass bands, refreshments, etc. The East is hardly ready for that sort of thing just yet.