DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4393#0088
70 A THOUSAND MILES UP TUB NILE.
By and by a little breeze springs up. The men
drop the rope and jump on board—the big sail is set—
— the breeze freshens — and away we go again, as
merrily as the day we left Cairo. Toward sunset we
see a strange object, like a giant obelisk broken off half-
way, standing up on the western bank against an orange-
gold sky. This is the pyramid of Meydum, commonly
called the false pyramid. It looks quite near the bank;
but this is an effect of powerful light and shadow, for it
lies back at least four miles from the river. That night,
having sailed on till past nine o'clock, we moor about a
mile from Beni Suef, and learn with some surprise that a
man must be dispatched to the governor of the town for
guards. Not that anything ever happened to anybody at
Beni Suef, says Talhamy : but that the place is supposed
not to have a first-rate reputation. If we have guards, we
at all events make the governor responsible for our safety
and the safety of our possessions. So the guards are sent
for; and being posted on the bank, snore loudly all night
long, just outside our windows.
Meanwhile the wind shifts round-to the south, and next
morning it blows full in our faces. The men, however,
track up to Beni Suef to a point where the buildings come
down to the water's edge and the towing-path ceases; and
there we lay to for awhile among a fleet of filthy native
boats, close to the landing-place.
The approach to Beni Suef is rather pretty. The
khedive has an Italian-looking villa here, which peeps up
white and dazzling from the midst of a thickly wooded
park. The town lies back a little from the river. A few
coffee-houses and a kind of promenade face the landing-
place; and a mosque built to the verge of the bank stands
out picturesquely against the bend of the river.
And now it is our object to turn that corner, so as to
get into a better position for starting when the wind
drops. The current here runs deep and strong, so that we
have both wind and water dead against us. Half our men
clamber round the corner like cats, carrying the rope witli
them; the rest keep the dahabeeyah off the bank with
punting poles. The rope strains-—a pole breaks—we
struggle forward a few feet and can get no farther. Then
the men rest awhile; try again; and are again defeated.
So the fight goes on. The promenade and the windows of
Hi
By and by a little breeze springs up. The men
drop the rope and jump on board—the big sail is set—
— the breeze freshens — and away we go again, as
merrily as the day we left Cairo. Toward sunset we
see a strange object, like a giant obelisk broken off half-
way, standing up on the western bank against an orange-
gold sky. This is the pyramid of Meydum, commonly
called the false pyramid. It looks quite near the bank;
but this is an effect of powerful light and shadow, for it
lies back at least four miles from the river. That night,
having sailed on till past nine o'clock, we moor about a
mile from Beni Suef, and learn with some surprise that a
man must be dispatched to the governor of the town for
guards. Not that anything ever happened to anybody at
Beni Suef, says Talhamy : but that the place is supposed
not to have a first-rate reputation. If we have guards, we
at all events make the governor responsible for our safety
and the safety of our possessions. So the guards are sent
for; and being posted on the bank, snore loudly all night
long, just outside our windows.
Meanwhile the wind shifts round-to the south, and next
morning it blows full in our faces. The men, however,
track up to Beni Suef to a point where the buildings come
down to the water's edge and the towing-path ceases; and
there we lay to for awhile among a fleet of filthy native
boats, close to the landing-place.
The approach to Beni Suef is rather pretty. The
khedive has an Italian-looking villa here, which peeps up
white and dazzling from the midst of a thickly wooded
park. The town lies back a little from the river. A few
coffee-houses and a kind of promenade face the landing-
place; and a mosque built to the verge of the bank stands
out picturesquely against the bend of the river.
And now it is our object to turn that corner, so as to
get into a better position for starting when the wind
drops. The current here runs deep and strong, so that we
have both wind and water dead against us. Half our men
clamber round the corner like cats, carrying the rope witli
them; the rest keep the dahabeeyah off the bank with
punting poles. The rope strains-—a pole breaks—we
struggle forward a few feet and can get no farther. Then
the men rest awhile; try again; and are again defeated.
So the fight goes on. The promenade and the windows of
Hi