 CHAPTER IX THE PEOPLE Beyond everything else, Egypt is an agricultural country, and the Felaen, or soil-cutters, as the word means, its dominant type, and in order to form any idea of their character or mode of life, we must leave the towns behind and wander through the farmlands of the Delta. Trains are few, and hotels do not exist, and anyone wishing to see the people as they are must travel on horseback and be content with such accommodations as the villages afford. The roads are the canal banks, or little paths which wind among the fields, but as we have already seen the country has many beauties, and the people are so genuine in their simple hospitality that the traveler has many compensations for the incidental hardships he may undergo. What will perhaps first strike the traveler is the industry of the people. The luxuriant crops give evidence of their labor, and the fields are everywhere alive. From dawn to dusk everyone is busily employed, from the youngest child who watches the tethered cattle or brings water from the well, to the old man so soon to find his last resting place in the picture-esque gabbana, or cemetery, without the village. Seed-time and harvest go side by side in Egypt, and one may often witness every operation of the farm from plowing to threshing going on simultaneously. The people seem contented as they work, for whereas formerly the fellow heen were cruelly oppressed by their rulers, today under British guidance they have become independent and prosperous, and secure in the enjoyment of the fruits of their labor. Another impression which the visitor will receive is the curiously biblical character of their life, which constantly suggests the Old Testament stories, the shepherds watching their flocks, rings streaked and speckled, the cattle plowing in the fields, the women grinding at the handmill, or grouped about the village well, all recall incidents in the lives of Isaac and Rebecca, and episodes of patriarchal times. Their salutations and modes of speech are also biblical, and lend a touch of poetry to their lives. Turn in, my lord, turn into me, was Jail's greeting to flying Cicera, and straightway she prepared for him better in a lordly dish. So today hospitality is one of their cardinal virtues, and I have myself been chased by a horseman who rebuked me for having passed his home without refreshment. In pumps, cotton mills, and railways may have slightly altered the aspect of the country, but to all intents and purposes, in habit of thought and speech, in costume and custom, the people remain today much as they were in those remote times pictured in the book of Genesis. Fresh fruit or coffee is frequently proffered to the traveler on his way, while his welcome at a village or the house of some landed proprietor is always sure. When approaching a village which is often surrounded by dense groves of date-palms, the traveler will be met by the head man, who, with many salams, conduct him to the village mandara or rest-house, and it is only as such a guest resident in a village that one can form any idea of the home life of the people. From the outside the village often has the appearance of some rubed fortification, the houses practically joining each other and their mud-walls having few openings. Within narrow and torturous lanes form the only thoroughfares which terminate in massive wooden doors which are closed at night and guarded by the village watchmen. The huts, for they are nothing else, which compose the village are seldom of more than one story, while in many cases their small doorway forms their only means of ventilation. Their roofs are covered with a pile of cotton stalks and other litter, through which the pungent smoke of their dung-fires slowly percolates, while fowls and goats and the inevitable pariah-dog roam about them at will. Windows when they do occur are merely slits in the mud-wall, without glass or shutter, but often ornamented by a lattice of split palm leaves. Light and ventilation practically do not exist, while a few mats, water-pots, and cooking utensils comprise the only furniture. Yet the people are well conditioned and content, for their life is in the fields, and their poor dwellings are little used except at mealtimes or at night. The guest-house is a little better than the huts, except that one side is entirely open to the air. Here at least the visitor may breathe, even though his slumbers may be disturbed by the sheep and cattle which wander in the lanes. At night a fire of corn cobs is lit, and while its smoke serves to drive away the swarms of mosquitoes and flies, with which the village is usually infested, its warmth is grateful, for the nights are cold. And by its light, aided by a few dim lanterns, the simple evening meal is shared with the headmen, who count it an honor to entertain a guest. I have described one of the poorest of the fella villages, but the traveler is often more luxuriously housed. Many of the native landowners occupy roomy and well-appointed dwellings, often surrounded by pretty and well-stocked gardens, where one may rest beneath the vines and fig-trees and enjoy the pomegranates, apricots, and other fruits which it supplies. These houses are generally clean and comfortably furnished after the Turkish manor. The host, prosperous-looking and well-clothed, meets his guest at the doorstep or assists him to dismount, when, with many compliments and expressions of delight at his visit, he is conducted to the guest chamber. Coffee and sweet-meats are then presented, a foretaste of the generous meal to follow, for in the homes of the well-to-do a feast is usually provided for an honored guest. The food is served on the low saniya, or tray, which forms the table, on which several flat loaves surrounded by little dishes of salad and other condiments mark the places of the diners. But before eating each person ceremoniously washes his hands and mouth, a servant bringing in the copper tisht wa-abrik, or jug and basin, kept for that purpose. The meal always begins with soup, which, greasy to begin with, is rendered more so by the addition of a bowl of melted butter. This is eaten with a spoon, the only utensil provided, each person dipping into the bowl which is placed in the center of the table. The rest of the meal, which consists of fish, pigeons, and various kinds of stews and salads, is eaten with the hands, the diners often presenting each other with choice morsels from their portion, a baked turkey stuffed with nuts, or on important occasions a whole sheep forms the principal dish, which is cleverly divided by the host or principal guest without the aid of a knife or fork. Water in porous jars, often flavored with rose leaves or verbena, is presented by servants as the meal proceeds. The final dish always consists of boiled rice and milk sweetened with honey, a delicious dish which is eaten with the same spoon by which the soup was partaken of. Such fare, as I have described, is only for the wealthy. In general, the fellow heen live on rice and wheat and bread, sugar cane, and vegetables, with the occasional addition of a little meat, or such fish as may be caught in the canals. Their beverage is water, coffee being a luxury only occasionally indulged in, and their use of tobacco is infrequent. There's is a simple life whose daily round of labor is only broken by the occasional marriage feasts, or village fair, or in the more populous centers by the periodic mullet or religious festival. In Cairo and other large cities these mullets are very elaborate, and often last for days together. Often business is suspended, and, as at our Christmas time, everyone gives himself up to enjoyment and the effort to make others happy. Gay booths are erected in the open spaces, in which is singing in the performance of strange European dances. Mummers and conjurers perform in the streets, and merry-go-rounds and swing-boats amuse the youngsters, whose pleasure is further enhanced by the many stalls and barrows displaying toy balloons, dolls, and sweet-meats. All where their gayest clothing and at night illuminations delight the hearts of these simple people. The principal feasts are the mullet and nebi, or birth of Muhammad, and el-hasanan, in memory of the martyred grandson of the Prophet, and, although they are Muhammadans, the eid el-amam, or birth of Christ, takes a high place among their religious celebrations. But they have their fasts also, and Ramadan, which lasts for four weeks, is far more strictly observed than Lent among ourselves. For throughout the period, from sunrise to sunset, the Muslim abstains from food or drink, except in the case of the aged or infirm, or of any one engaged upon work so arduous as to render food necessary, for the Muhammadan does not allow his religion to interfere with his other duties in life. On the last day of Ramadan occurs a pretty observance similar to that of all souls' day in France. When everyone visits the tombs of their relatives, laying garlands upon the graves, and often passing the night in the cemeteries in little booths made for the purpose, you will have noticed how large a place religion takes in the life of the people, and in their idle hours no subject of conversation is more common. To the average Muhammadan his religion is a very real manner in which he fervently believes, and Allah is to him a very personal God, whom he may at all times approach in praise or prayer in the certain belief of his fatherly care. Nothing impresses a traveler more than this tremendous belief of the Muhammadans in their deity and their religion, and though many people, probably from lack of knowledge, hold the view that the Muslim faith is a debased one, it is in reality a fine religion, teaching many wise and beautiful doctrines, and ennobling the lives of all who live up to the best that is in it. Unfortunately the teaching of Muhammadanism is so largely fatalistic that it tends to deprive the individual a personal initiative. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord, is a general attitude of mind, and this, combined with their long centuries of servitude, has had so much effect upon the national character of the Egyptian that they almost entirely lack those qualities of alertness, confidence, and sense of personal responsibility, without which no race can become great or indeed even be self-respecting. The higher education now general in Egypt has already had its effect upon the present generation, among which a feeling of ambition and independence is growing, while the Egyptian army has shown what wonders may be wrought, even with the poorest material by sustained and honest effort in the right direction. And if the just and sympathetic guidance which it has enjoyed for now a quarter of a century is not too soon withdrawn, Egypt may once again become a nation. As it is, today the great mass of the people remain much as they have been for ages, a simple, kindly people, ignorant and often fanatical, but broadly good-humored and keenly alive to a joke. Fond of their children, and showing great consideration for age, they have many traits which endear them to those who have lived among them, while their faults are largely on the surface and due in some measure to the centuries of ignorance and slavery which has been their lot. The greatest blot upon the Egyptian character is the position accorded to their women, who, as in all Muhammedan countries, are considered to be soulless. From infancy employed in the most menial occupations, they are not even permitted to enter the mosques at prayer time, and until recently the scanty education which the boys enjoyed was denied to their sisters. It is no wonder, therefore, that these often beautiful girls grow up much like graceful animals, ignorant of the higher duties of life and exercising none of that refined and ennobling influence which have made the Western races what they are. CHAPTER X. OF PEAPS AT MANY LANDS, EGYPT. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. PEAPS AT MANY LANDS, EGYPT. By R. Talbot Kelly. CHAPTER X. THE DESERT. When so much of geographical Egypt consists of desert, it would be interesting if I were to tell you something about it before closing this little book. Probably the first question my readers would ask would be, What use is it? Why does nature create such vast wastes of land and rock which can be of little or no use to anybody? We cannot always follow the intentions of nature or see what may ultimately result, but so far as the desert is concerned we know of at least one useful purpose it serves, and that is the making of climate. Edinburgh and Moscow are in precisely the same latitudes, yet the one is equitable in temperature while the other endures the rigors of an arctic winter. The south of Iceland also suffers less from cold than do the great central plains of Europe. And why? Simply because their different climates are the result of special conditions or influences of nature, and what the Gulf Stream does for the British Isles, the deserts of Africa affect not only for Egypt, but for the whole of southern Europe, whose genial climate is mainly caused by the warm air generated on these sun-baked barren lands. Now let us see what the desert is like in appearance. It is a very common impression that the desert is simply a flat expanse of sand, colorless and unbroken. In reality it is quite different, being full of variations which give it much the same diversity of interest as the ocean. The color of the sand varies infinitely according to its situation. Thus the desert which surrounds Aswan, which is composed of decimated granite and nile silt, is generally gray. In Nubia the sand is formed of powdered sandstone of a curiously golden tint, while the desert of Suez, which abuts on Cairo, and the Delta provinces, is generally white in tone due to the admixture of limestone dust of which it is largely composed. The great Sahara is also no monotonous stretch of sand, but is to a great extent covered by wild herbs of many kinds, which often entirely screen the sand from view and give it the appearance of a prairie. Nor is the desert always flat, for its huge and indecent suggest ocean billows petrified into stillness, while rocky hills and earthquake-riven valleys give it a fantastic variety which is wildly picturesque. Though generally barren the desert supports growths of many kinds, wild hyssop, thorns, the succulent ice plant, and a great variety of other shrubs. Deserts also abound, and though they are usually small, I have counted as many as twenty varieties in an area of as many feet. And in some of the deep waddies, as the mountain valleys are called, wild plants grow in such perfusion as to give them the appearance of rock gardens. In aspect the desert varies very much, according to the time of day or changing effect of light. At dawn a curious mauve tint suffuses it, and the sun rises sharp and clear above the horizon, which also stands out crisply against the sky, so pure is the air. Presently as the sun slowly rises higher in the sky, every shrub or stone or little inequality of surface is tipped with gold and throws long blue shadows across the sand. At midday a fierce glare envelops it, obliterating detail and color, while by moonlight it is a fairyland of silver, solemn, still, and mysterious. Each phase has its special beauty, which interests the traveler and robs his journey of monotony. Scattered over the surface of the sand are innumerable pebbles of all sizes and colors, onyx, cornelian, agate, and many more, as well as sea fossils and other petrifications which boys would love to collect. And it is also curious to notice that the rocks which crop up in all directions become sunburnt, and limestone naturally of a dazzling white often assumes a variety of tints under the influence of the powerful sun, as may be seen in the foreground of my picture of the pyramids. Animal life also exists in perfusion. Every tuft of scrub supports a variety of insects upon which the hunting spider and desert lizard feed. The tracks of giant beetles or timid gerboa scour the sand in all directions, and many wild birds make these waste their homes. Green wolves and foxes hunt the tiny gazelle, while the rocky hills in which the wild goats make their home also give shelter to the hyenas and jackals, which haunt the caravan routes to feast upon the dying animals which fall abandoned to their fate. The life of the desert is not confined to beasts, however, for many Bedouin tribes roam about them in search of water or fodder for their animals, and of all the eastern races I have met none are more interesting than these desert nomads. The wandering life of the Bedouin makes it difficult for anyone to become acquainted with them, while their reputation for lawlessness is such that travelers on desert routes usually endeavor to avoid them. In several parts of the desert near Egypt, however, important families of them has settled so as to be near the farm lambs granted to them by Ishmael Pasha many years ago, nominally in return for military services, but in reality to keep them quiet, and I have often visited their camps at Benny Ayyub and Tel Bedouin to find them courteous, hospitable, and in the best sense of the word gentleman. These camps are large, and the long lines of tents, pitched with military precision, shelter probably more than one thousand people, for, though the head shake may build a lodge of stone in which to entertain his guests, the Arab is a gypsy who loves his tent. The tents, which are often very large, are formed of heavy cloths of goat's hair woven in stripes of different colors, and supported by a large number of poles, long tassels hanging from the seams, and other cloths are often attached to them so as to divide the tent into different apartments. Clean sand forms the floor, on which at nightfall a rug or carpet is spread to form a bed. Round the walls are the gay saddlebags and trappings of the camels and horses, as well as many boxes ornamented with tinsel and painting, which contain the wardrobes and other possessions of the inmates. At the tent door, stuck upright in the ground, is the long spear of its occupant, and the large earthen pot which serves as a fireplace, while in some shady corner a row of zeers contain their supply of drinking water. Turkeys and fowl give a homely look to the premises, where perhaps a gentle-eyed gazelle is playmate to the rough-haired dogs few Bedouin are without. Round about the tents children are playing, while their mothers are working at the hand flume or preparing the simple evening meal. In character the Bedouin are dignified and reserved, and have a great contempt for the noisiness so characteristic of the Egyptians, but like them are passionately fond of their wives and children, and so highly prized the various articles of saddle-ree or apparel made by their hands that no money would buy them. The men are tall, with strong, aquiline features and keen eyes, which look very piercing beneath the kufia, a square shawl of white or colored silk, which is wrapped around their heads. Their clothing is loose and flowing, a black arbia being worn over the kaftan or inner robe, of white of colored stripes, and their boots are of soft leather. Though the traditional spear is still retained, all are armed with some firearm, ancient flintlocks of great length, or more commonly nowadays with a modern rifle, and many of the shakes where a long, curved sword of beautiful workmanship which is slung across their shoulders by a silken cord. All have strong, deep voices, and impress you with the idea that these are manly and courageous fellows, and upright according to their lights. The women are also clothed in loose draperies, the outer one of some rough material, which conceals others of daintier fabric and color. Handsome in feature, with glossy blue-black hair, their dark gypsy faces also wear that look of sturdy independence which so becomes the men. It may naturally be asked, how do these people occupy their time? First of all, they have large flocks which must be fed and watered, and they are thus compelled to wander from well to well, from one oasis to another, and they are also great breeders of horses, which must be carefully looked after, and from time to time taken to some far away fair for sale. Food and water also have to be brought long distances to their camps by the camelmen, while the women are occupied with their domestic duties and their weaving. Naturally the Bedouin are expert horsemen, and are very fond of equestrian sports. Some of their fancy riding is very clever, and great rivalry exists among them, particularly in their jared or javelin play, when frequently several hundreds of mounted men are engaged in a melee, which, though only intended to be a friendly contest, often results in serious injury or death to many. The Arab is very fond of his horse, which he himself has bred and trained from a colt, and his affection is amply returned by his steed. They are beautiful animals, strong and fleet-footed, but often savage with anyone but their master. Sport enters largely into the life of the Bedouin, and many tribes train falcons, with which they hunt gazelles, and in the Libyan desert the cheetah, or hunting leopard, is tamed and used for the same purpose, and in this way the monotony of many a long desert march is relieved. When on a journey smaller tents than those which I have described are used, all the heavy baggage being loaded onto camels, upon which the women and children also ride. Camels have often been called the ships of the desert, and they are certainly the most useful of all animals for such traveling, for their broad pads prevent their feet from sinking into the soft sand, and not only do they carry enormous loads, but are able for days together to go without food or water. When Abraham sent his servant to seek a wife for Isaac, it was on camels that he traveled, and shaded, no doubt, by her canopy of shawls it was on camel-back that Rebekah returned with him to the tent of his master. So today we may often meet a similar party on their journey. The women seated beneath the mamal, as the canopy is called, while the food and water for the journey is slung from the saddles of the camels ridden by the armed men who form their escort. Camels are of two kinds, the heavily built beast, such as we see in Egypt, and which is also used for baggage purposes, and the haguine, or dromedary, used solely for riding. Lest any of my readers should fall into the common error of supposing that the dromedary has two humps, let me say that the only difference between it and the ordinary camel is that it is smaller and better bred, just as our race-horses differ from the dropped animals, and must not be confounded with the bactrian or two-humped camel of Asia. These haguine are very fleet, and often cover great distances, and I have known one to travel as much as one hundred miles between sunset and sunrise. On a journey the pace of a caravan is that of its slowest beast, and very arduous such journeys often are, for there is no shade, and the dust raised by the caravan envelopes the slowly moving travelers, while the fierce sun is reflected from the rocks, which often become too hot to touch. On the other hand the nights are often bitterly cold, for sand is too loose to retain any of its heat, while the salt with which the desert is strongly impregnated has a chilling effect on the air. Most trying of all, however, are the hot desert winds, which often last for days together, drying up the water in the skins, while the distressed travelers are half suffocated by the dust and flying sand, which cut the skin like knives. Little wonder, therefore, if these hardy desert tribes are taciturn and reserved, for they see nature in its stern moods, and know little of that ease of life which may be experienced among the green crops and pastures of the delta. It must not be supposed that the Bedouin are morose, for beneath their outward severity lies a great power for sympathy and affection. The love of the Arab for his horse is proverbial, and his kindness to all dumb animals is remarkable. Like the Egyptian family affection holds him strongly, and he has a keen appreciation of poetry and music. Hospitality is to him a law, and the guest is always treated with honor. It is pleasant also to see the respect with which the Bedouin regard their women, and the harmony which exists between the members of a tribe. The government is patriarchal, each tribe being ruled by its shake, the father of his children, who administers their code of honor or justice, and whose decision is always implicitly obeyed. Here again we have another biblical parallel, for like his brother Muhammad in Egypt, the life of the desert Arab, no less than the dwellers on the black soil, still preserves many of those poetical customs and characteristics which render the history of Abraham so attractive. And although these pages have only been able to give a partial picture of Egypt and its people, perhaps enough has been said to induce my readers to learn more about them, as well as to enable them a little more fully to realize how very real and how very human are the romantic stories of the Old Testament. The End of Chapter 10 END OF PEAPS AT MANY LANDS, EGYPT. Read by Cibbella Denton, in Carrollton, GA, OCTOBER 2007.