Chapter XII
It is not my way to pass through a country without drawing from it as much information and interest as possible. All my life I have been a close student of archeology and here was an opportunity not to be missed of pursuing certain investigations which had been attempted by others and which I myself had begun and abandoned when the war called all able-bodied men to the colors.
Like all Englishwomen Lady Sarah had a keen interest in investigations of this sort and heartily seconded the suggestion that I should give a day or two to the clearing up of some of the dynastic mysteries which have baffled historians for many years.
“But I can’t go with you, my dear,” she said. “These pyramids and sphinxes and things are simply infested with people from home ... it wouldn’t do, you know ... after I get my divorce, all right, but until then....”
How sane she was!
I left her in the dahabeah, watched over by Ab-Domen who had by this time safely convoyed his camels to Cairo.
“For three days only,” I whispered, holding her tightly, “more than that I could not bear,” and without daring to look back I fled.
My objective was in the nearby terrain of the Valley of Kings but I knew better than to search in the actual valley itself which has been completely mussed by the hundreds of excavators who have sought the missing chapters of Egyptian history. Here, it is true, they have found much that is interesting and worth-while. The recent discovery of the tomb of King Tut-Ankh-Amen was a creditable performance. But I was after bigger game than that!
In beginning my quest I was greatly aided by certain papers which I had purchased many years ago from an old Levantine in Aden. He knew little of their value or I should never have secured them but vague markings on the first documents told me that the packet belonged originally in the library of Alexander the Great. Later they found their way into the archives of the Bab-el-Mandeb himself. Need I say more?
I therefore kept to the north of the beaten track of exploration. The expressions on the faces of numerous excavating parties which we passed were amusing. They considered me insane to search for buried testimony in a location to which no reference was made in their data. Such is the narrowness of many learned men.
Our group was small consisting of not more than a score ofdoolahsin addition to my usual companions Swank and Whinney. Five camels carried the provisions and tools. The indications contained in my papers was so precise that I felt that I could verify their statements with very little delay. Either they were true or false and that could be soon determined.
It was necessary to lay a very careful course following the exact compass-directions of my palimpsest. This done we were soon swallowed up in the immensity of the desert. It was strange how, like a great mother, the land enveloped and enfolded us. But now I trudged it with different feelings for back of me, waiting in the dahabeah, was Sarah, my tiger-mate, my tawny desert-rose! Our plan was to go immediately to Paris where she was to join the American divorce colony, for she wished to be forever freed from her outrageous husband. This being decided, I urged her to make haste so that the teeth-marks might still be shown in evidence, for they were rapidly paling. Wimpole!—the cur ... what had become of him?
ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASSOUANNative musician performing on the Balipsa, one of the earliest Egyptian wind-instruments.
On the Outskirts of Assouan
Revolving these matters we marched on, stopping at the end of five hours for luncheon and a siesta. Here thedoolahsresorted to a curious trick for, by wriggling their bodies, they wormed their way into the sand and completely disappeared save for an occasional toe, elbow or kneecap which lay, oddly detached, on the burning floor. In this way they escaped the direct rays of the deadly sun. Three hours later the march was resumed.
Not long after I ordered a halt. We had reached a point as near as I wished to go to the object of my search, for it was a part of my plan to make the actual discovery alone. Much as I respected the two men who were with me I was too old a bird to ignore the fact that practically every great discovery is marred by an attempt to divide the credit. In matters of this sort it is best to be alone.
Camp for the night being established I quietly strolled off by myself. The sun still hung well above the horizon and I estimated that I had fullytwo hours of daylight, though I took an electric flashlight as an extra precaution. The character of the surrounding country was peculiar in the extreme, consisting of thousands of small dome-like hills like bee-hives, each so like the other that my sense of orientation was instantly lost. Not over a half a mile from camp I looked for our party and realized with a start that I was searching in exactly the opposite direction from the right one.
“Careful!” I thought, studying my compass: “this is dangerous country to travel in.”
In a few moments the camp had disappeared. Proceeding with the greatest care and constantly consulting both my papers and my compass I steered as straight a course as possible between the soft hillocks. An evening wind was rising and I noticed that its slightest breath was sufficient to ripple the hill-sides like shaken silk. In a stronger blast the mounds must actually move. Not without a sense of disquiet I observed that the landscape back of me had already changed slightly—or did it only seem so?
One hour of my precious time had passed. Should I go on—or return? Hesitating, a fresh detail lured me forward. To the north-west anddominating the surrounding mounds rose one considerably higher. According to my documents I should now be at the site of the most astounding discovery possible in this corner of the world. Resolved to make a last inspection from this hill I made my way toward it.
Even as I ascended its eastern side a thrill crept up my spine for I could see that the ground sloped sharply away to the west which, my papers said, it should do. And on the top of the knoll I stood aghast.
Yes! it was true. I had found it. I, Walter Traprock, American, stood awed, silent and alone, looking down into the Lost Valley of Bulls, the burial place of Dimitrino, the First of the Pharaohs.
Let me say here that I do not belittle the importance of Tut-Ankh-Amen, but may I also point out that he has been widely acclaimed because he was thelastof the Pharaohs? Dimitrino, I repeat, was thefirst. It is obvious to whom the greater credit must go. Year after year, for centuries, historians have groped for some allusion, some hint which should guide them to the spot which lay before me.
The tomb occupied the center of a small valleyin which the purple dusk already lay heavy. Against my better judgment, chuckling excitedly, I ploughed down the sloping banks, passed between two gigantic porphyry bulls and finally stood beside the mausoleum itself. Though intending to make only a cursory examination one exciting detail led to another. The smoothly worked granite blocks with their close joints excited my wonder. Near the top of the dome in a band of ornamentation I noted a bronze ring artfully worked in the design. It was comparatively easy to climb the curving sides and reach this stone. It was large and I had not the faintest idea that it would move. Imagine my surprise then when it slid slowly under a strong pull and I gazed down through a square opening into the blackness of the actual burial chamber. With a thrill of fear I bent forward, head and shoulders through the aperture and flooded the great room with my flashlight. Wonder of wonders! What splendors lay below me.
I had only time to glimpse a dazzling array of gold and brilliant color when my legs were suddenly lifted up from behind and I was thrust violently forward through the opening. Twisting as I fell I quickly flashed my light upward. Thegreat stone was slowly sliding into place but in the narrowing space the beam of my flash fell on the distorted features of Horace Wimpole.
My head suddenly swam with dizziness and I fainted.