DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4393#0091
BEDRESIIA YN TO MffilEH. 73
once more got under way. It was delightful to see the big
sail again towering up overhead, and to hear the swish of
the water under the cabin windows; but we were still one
hundred and nine miles from llhoda, and we knew that
nothing but an extraordinary run of luck could piossibly get
ns there by the twenty-third of the month, with time to see
Beni Hassan on the way. Meanwhile, however, we make
fair progress, mooring at sunset when the wind falls, about
three miles north of Bibbeh. Next day, by help of the
same light breeze which again springs up a little after dawn,
we go at a good pace between Hat banks, fringed here and
there with palms, and studded with villages more or less
picturesque. There is not much to see, and yet one never
wants for amusement. Now we pass an island of sand-
bank covered with snow-white paddy-birds, which rise tu-
multuously at our approach. Next comes Bibbeh, perched
high along the edge of the precipitous bank, its odd-look-
ing Coptic convent roofed all over with little mud domes,
like a cluster of earth-bubbles. By and by we pass a de-
serted sugar factory, with shattered windows and a huge,
gaunt, blackened chimney, worthy of Birmingham or
•Sheffield. And now we catch a glimpse of the railway
and hear the last scream of a departing engine. At night,
we moor within sight of the factory chimneys and hy-
draulic tubes of Magagha, and next day get on nearly to
Golosaneh, which is the last station-town before Minieh.
It is now only too clear that we must give up all thought
of pushing on to Beni Hassan before the rest of the party
shall come on board. We have reached the evening of our
ninth clay; we.are still forty-eight miles from Rhoda; and
another adverse wind might again delay us indefinitely on
the way. All risks taken into account, we decide to put
off our meeting till the twenty-fourth, and transfer, the
appointment to Minieh; thus giving ourselves time to track
all the way in case of need. So an Arabic telegram is con-
cocted, and our fleet runner starts oil with it to Golosaneh
before the office closes for the night.
The breeze, however, does not fail, but comes back next
morning with the dawn. Having passed Golosaneh, we
come to a wide reach in the river, at which point we arc
honored by a visit from a Moslem santon of peculiar sanc-
tity, named "Holy Sheik Cotton." Now Holy Sheik
Cotton, who is a well-fed, healthy-looking young man of
once more got under way. It was delightful to see the big
sail again towering up overhead, and to hear the swish of
the water under the cabin windows; but we were still one
hundred and nine miles from llhoda, and we knew that
nothing but an extraordinary run of luck could piossibly get
ns there by the twenty-third of the month, with time to see
Beni Hassan on the way. Meanwhile, however, we make
fair progress, mooring at sunset when the wind falls, about
three miles north of Bibbeh. Next day, by help of the
same light breeze which again springs up a little after dawn,
we go at a good pace between Hat banks, fringed here and
there with palms, and studded with villages more or less
picturesque. There is not much to see, and yet one never
wants for amusement. Now we pass an island of sand-
bank covered with snow-white paddy-birds, which rise tu-
multuously at our approach. Next comes Bibbeh, perched
high along the edge of the precipitous bank, its odd-look-
ing Coptic convent roofed all over with little mud domes,
like a cluster of earth-bubbles. By and by we pass a de-
serted sugar factory, with shattered windows and a huge,
gaunt, blackened chimney, worthy of Birmingham or
•Sheffield. And now we catch a glimpse of the railway
and hear the last scream of a departing engine. At night,
we moor within sight of the factory chimneys and hy-
draulic tubes of Magagha, and next day get on nearly to
Golosaneh, which is the last station-town before Minieh.
It is now only too clear that we must give up all thought
of pushing on to Beni Hassan before the rest of the party
shall come on board. We have reached the evening of our
ninth clay; we.are still forty-eight miles from Rhoda; and
another adverse wind might again delay us indefinitely on
the way. All risks taken into account, we decide to put
off our meeting till the twenty-fourth, and transfer, the
appointment to Minieh; thus giving ourselves time to track
all the way in case of need. So an Arabic telegram is con-
cocted, and our fleet runner starts oil with it to Golosaneh
before the office closes for the night.
The breeze, however, does not fail, but comes back next
morning with the dawn. Having passed Golosaneh, we
come to a wide reach in the river, at which point we arc
honored by a visit from a Moslem santon of peculiar sanc-
tity, named "Holy Sheik Cotton." Now Holy Sheik
Cotton, who is a well-fed, healthy-looking young man of