DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4393#0252
234 A THOUSAND MILES UP THE NILE.
excitement of the next three hours. As the moon climbed
higher alight more mysterious and unreal than the light
of day filled and overflowed the wide expanse of river and
desert. We could see the mountains of Abou Simbel stand-
ing, as it seemed, across our path, in the far distance—a
lower one first; then a larger; then a series of receding
heights, all close together, yet all distinctly separate.
That large one—the mountain of the great temple—held
us like a spell. For a long time it looked a mere mountain
like the rest. By and by, however, we fancied we detected
a something—a shadow—such a shadow as might be cast
by a gigantic buttress. Next appeared a black speck, no
bigger than a port-hole. We knew that this black speck
must be the doorway. We knew that the great statues
were there, though not yet visible, and that we must soon
see them.
For our sailors, meanwhile, there was the excitement of
a chase. The Bagstones and three other dahabeeyahs
were coming up behind us in the path of the moonlight.
Their galley fires glowed like beacons on the water; the
nearest about a mile away, the last a spark in the distance.
We were not in the mood to care much for racing to-night,
but we were anxious to keep our lead and be first at the
mooring place.
To run upon a sand-bank at such a moment was like
being plunged suddenly into cold water. Our sail flapped
furiously. The men rushed to the pun ting-poles. Four
jumped overboard and shoved with all the might of their
shoulders. By the time we got off, however, the other boats
had crept up half a mile nearer, and we had hard work to
keep them from pressing closer on our heels.
At length the last corner was rounded and the great
temple stood straight before us. The facade, sunk in the
mountain side like a huge picture in a mighty frame, was
now quite plain to see. The black speck was no longer a
port-hole, but a lofty doorway.
Last of all, though it was night, and they were still not
much less than a mile away, the four colossi came out,
ghostlike, vague and shadowy, in the enchanted moon-
light. Even as we watched them they seemed to grow, to
dilate, to be moving toward us out of the silvery distance.
It was drawing on toward midnight when the Phila3
at length ran in close under the great temple. Content
excitement of the next three hours. As the moon climbed
higher alight more mysterious and unreal than the light
of day filled and overflowed the wide expanse of river and
desert. We could see the mountains of Abou Simbel stand-
ing, as it seemed, across our path, in the far distance—a
lower one first; then a larger; then a series of receding
heights, all close together, yet all distinctly separate.
That large one—the mountain of the great temple—held
us like a spell. For a long time it looked a mere mountain
like the rest. By and by, however, we fancied we detected
a something—a shadow—such a shadow as might be cast
by a gigantic buttress. Next appeared a black speck, no
bigger than a port-hole. We knew that this black speck
must be the doorway. We knew that the great statues
were there, though not yet visible, and that we must soon
see them.
For our sailors, meanwhile, there was the excitement of
a chase. The Bagstones and three other dahabeeyahs
were coming up behind us in the path of the moonlight.
Their galley fires glowed like beacons on the water; the
nearest about a mile away, the last a spark in the distance.
We were not in the mood to care much for racing to-night,
but we were anxious to keep our lead and be first at the
mooring place.
To run upon a sand-bank at such a moment was like
being plunged suddenly into cold water. Our sail flapped
furiously. The men rushed to the pun ting-poles. Four
jumped overboard and shoved with all the might of their
shoulders. By the time we got off, however, the other boats
had crept up half a mile nearer, and we had hard work to
keep them from pressing closer on our heels.
At length the last corner was rounded and the great
temple stood straight before us. The facade, sunk in the
mountain side like a huge picture in a mighty frame, was
now quite plain to see. The black speck was no longer a
port-hole, but a lofty doorway.
Last of all, though it was night, and they were still not
much less than a mile away, the four colossi came out,
ghostlike, vague and shadowy, in the enchanted moon-
light. Even as we watched them they seemed to grow, to
dilate, to be moving toward us out of the silvery distance.
It was drawing on toward midnight when the Phila3
at length ran in close under the great temple. Content