too imperfect to
get beyond elementary subjects. The thing that strikes me most is the
tolerant spirit that I see everywhere. They say 'Ah! it is your custom,'
and express no sort of condemnation, and Muslims and Christians appear
perfectly good friends, as my story of Bibbeh goes to prove. I have yet
to see the much-talked-of fanaticism, at present I have not met with a
symptom of it. There were thirteen Copt families at Bibbeh and a
considerable Muslim population, who had elected Girgis their headman and
kissed his hand very heartily as our procession moved through the
streets. Omar said he was a very good man and much liked.
The villages look like slight elevations in the mud banks cut into square
shapes. The best houses have neither paint, whitewash, plaster, bricks
nor windows, nor any visible roofs. They don't give one the notion of
human dwellings at all at first, but soon the eye gets used to the
absence of all that constitutes a house in Europe, the impression of
wretchedness wears off, and one sees how picturesque they are, with
palm-trees and tall pigeon-houses, and here and there the dome over a
saint's tomb. The men at work on the river-banks are exactly the same
colour as the Nile mud, with just the warmer hue of the blood circulating
beneath the skin. Prometheus has just formed them out of the universal
material at hand, and the sun breathed life into them. Poor
fellows--even the boatmen, ragged crew as they are--say 'Ah, Fellaheen!'
with a contemptuous pity when they see me watch the villagers at work.
The other day four huge barges passed us towed by a steamer and crammed
with hundreds of the poor souls torn from their homes to work at the
Isthmus of Suez, or some palace of the Pasha's, for a nominal piastre a
day, and find their own bread and water and cloak. One of my crew,
Andrasool, a black savage whose function is always to jump overboard
whenever the rope gets entangled or anything is wanted, recognised some
relations of his from a village close to Assouan. There was much
shouting and poor Andrasool looked very mournful all day. It may be his
turn next. Some of the crew disloyally remarked that they were sure the
men there wished they were working for a Sitti Ingleez, as Andrasool told
them he was. Think too what splendid pay it must be that the boat-owner
can give out of 25 pounds a month to twelve men, after taking his own
profits, the interest of money being enormous.
When
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