DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4393#0276
258 ■&■ THOUSAND MILES UP THE NILE.
CHAPTER XVI.
ABOU SIJIBEL.
We came to Abou Simbel on the night of the 31st of
January and we left at sunset on the 18th of February.
Of these eighteen clear days we spent fourteen at the foot
of the rock of the great temple, called in the old Egyptian
tongue the Kock of Abshek. The remaining four (taken
at the end of the first week and the beginning of the
second) were passed in the excursion to Wady-llalfeh and
back. By thus dividing the time our long sojourn was
made less monotonous for those who had no especial work
to do.
Meanwhile it was wonderful to wake every morning close
under the steep bank, and, without lifting one's head from
the pillow, to see that row of giant faces so close against
the sky. They showed unearthly enough by moonlight,
but not half so unearthly as in the gray of dawn. At that
hour, the most solemn of the twenty-four, they wore a
fixed and fatal look that was little less than appalling. As
the sky warmed thisawful look was succeeded by a Hush that
mounted and deepened like the rising flush of life. For a
moment they seemed to glow—to smile—to be transfigured.
Then came a Hash, as of thought itself. It was the first in-
stantaneous flash of the risen sun. It lasted less than a
second. It was gone almost before one could say it was
there. The next moment mountain, river and sky were
distinct in the steady light of day; and the colossi—mere
colossi now—sat serene and stony in the open sunshine.
Every morning I waked in time to witness that daily
miracle. Every morning I saw those awful brethren pass
from death to life, from life to sculptured stone. I brought
myself almost to believe at last that there must sooner or
later come some one sunrise when the ancient charm
would snap asunder and the giants must arise and speak.
Stupendous as they are, nothing is more difficult than to
CHAPTER XVI.
ABOU SIJIBEL.
We came to Abou Simbel on the night of the 31st of
January and we left at sunset on the 18th of February.
Of these eighteen clear days we spent fourteen at the foot
of the rock of the great temple, called in the old Egyptian
tongue the Kock of Abshek. The remaining four (taken
at the end of the first week and the beginning of the
second) were passed in the excursion to Wady-llalfeh and
back. By thus dividing the time our long sojourn was
made less monotonous for those who had no especial work
to do.
Meanwhile it was wonderful to wake every morning close
under the steep bank, and, without lifting one's head from
the pillow, to see that row of giant faces so close against
the sky. They showed unearthly enough by moonlight,
but not half so unearthly as in the gray of dawn. At that
hour, the most solemn of the twenty-four, they wore a
fixed and fatal look that was little less than appalling. As
the sky warmed thisawful look was succeeded by a Hush that
mounted and deepened like the rising flush of life. For a
moment they seemed to glow—to smile—to be transfigured.
Then came a Hash, as of thought itself. It was the first in-
stantaneous flash of the risen sun. It lasted less than a
second. It was gone almost before one could say it was
there. The next moment mountain, river and sky were
distinct in the steady light of day; and the colossi—mere
colossi now—sat serene and stony in the open sunshine.
Every morning I waked in time to witness that daily
miracle. Every morning I saw those awful brethren pass
from death to life, from life to sculptured stone. I brought
myself almost to believe at last that there must sooner or
later come some one sunrise when the ancient charm
would snap asunder and the giants must arise and speak.
Stupendous as they are, nothing is more difficult than to