Chapter XLIII
FROM the moment when the troops of Lower Egypt marched out of Pi-Bast, the prophet, Mentezufis, who accompanied the prince, received and sent away dispatches daily.
One correspondence he conducted with the minister Herhor; Mentezufis sent reports to Memphis touching the advance of the troops, and the activity of the viceroy; of this activity he did not conceal his admiration. On his part, the worthy Herhor stated that every freedom was to be left to the heir, and that if Ramses lost his first battle, the supreme council would not feel angry.
"A slight defeat," said Herhor, "would be a lesson in humility and caution to the viceroy, who even now, though as yet he has done nothing, considers himself as equal to the most experienced warriors."
When Mentezufis answered that one could not easily suppose that the heir would meet defeat, Herhor let him understand that in that case the triumph should not be over brilliant.
"The state," continued he, "will not lose in any way if the warriors and the impulsive heir find amusement for some years along the western border. He will gain skill himself in warfare, while the idle warriors will find their own proper work to do."
The other correspondence Mentezufis carried on with the holy father Mefres and that seemed to him of more importance. Mefres, offended formerly by the prince, had recently, in the case of Sarah's child, accused the prince directly of infanticide, committed under Kama's influence.
When a week had passed, and the viceroy's innocence was manifest, the high priest grew still more irate, and did not cease his efforts. The prince, he said, was capable of anything; he was hostile to the country's gods, he was an ally of the vile Phoenicians.
The murder of Sarah's child seemed so suspicious in the earlier days, that even the supreme council asked Mentezufis what he. thought of it.
Mentezufis answered that he had watched the prince for days, and did not think the man a murderer.
Such were the letters which, like birds of prey, whirled around Ramses, while he was sending scouts against the enemy, consulting leaders, or urging on his warriors.
On the fourteenth day the whole army was concentrated on the south of Teremethis. To the great delight of the heir,
Patrokles came with the Greek regiment, and with him the priest Pentuer, sent by Herhor as another guardian near the viceroy.
The multitude of priests in the camp (for there were still others) did not enchant Ramses. But he resolved not to turn attention to the holy men or ask advice of them.
Relations were regulated in some way, for Mentezufis, according to instructions from Herhor, did not force himself on the prince, while Pentuer occupied himself with organizing medical aid for the wounded.
The military game began.
First of all Ramses, through his agents, had spread a report in many boundary villages that the Libyans were pushing forward in great masses, and would destroy and murder. Because of this the terrified inhabitants fled eastward and met the Egyptian warriors. The prince took them in to carry burdens for the army, the women and children he conveyed to the interior of Egypt. Next the commander sent spies to meet the approaching Libyans and discover their number and disposition. These spies returned soon, bringing accurate indications as to where the Libyans were and very exaggerated accounts as to their numbers. They asserted, too, mistakenly, though in great confidence, that at the head of the Libyan columns marched Musawasa with his son Tehenna.
The princely leader was flushed with delight that in his first war he would have such an experienced enemy as Musawasa.
He overestimated, therefore, the danger of the struggle and redoubled every caution. To have all chances on his side he had recourse to stratagem. He sent confidential men to meet the Libyans; he commanded them to feign that they were fugitives, to enter the enemies' camp and draw from Musawasa his best forces, the disbanded Libyan soldiers.
"Tell them," said Ramses to his agents, "that I have axes for the insolent, and compassion for obedience. If in the coming battle they will throw their weapons down and leave Musawasa, I will receive them back to the army of his holiness, and command to pay all arrears, as if they had never left the service."
Patrokles and the other generals saw in this a very prudent measure; the priests were silent, Mentezufis sent a dispatch to Herhor and next day received an answer.
The neighborhood of the Soda Lakes was a valley some tens of kilometers long, enclosed between two lines of hills, extending from the southeast toward the northwest. The greatest width did not exceed ten kilometers; there were places narrower, almost ravines.
Throughout the whole length of that valley extended one after another about ten swampy lakes filled with bitter, brackish water. Wretched plants and bushes grew there ever coated with sand, ever withering, plants which no beast would take to its mouth. Along both sides were sticking up jagged limestone hills, or immense heaps of sand in which a man might sink deeply.
The white and yellow landscape had a look of dreadful torpor, which was heightened by the heat, and also by the silence. No bird was ever heard there, and if any sound was given forth it was from a stone rolling down along a hillside.
Toward the middle of the valley rose two groups of buildings a few kilometers from each other; these were a 'fortress on the east, and glass factories on the west, to which Libyan merchants brought fuel. Both these places had been deserted because of the conflict. Tehenna's corps was to occupy both these points, and secure the road to Egypt for Musawasa's army forces.
The Libyans marched slowly from the town of Glaucus southward, and on the evening of the fourteenth day of Hator, they were at the entrance to the valley of the Soda Lakes, feeling sure that they would pass through in two days unmolested. That evening at sunset the Egyptian army moved toward the desert, passed over more than forty kilometers of sand in twelve hours, and next morning was on the hills between the huts and the fortress and hid in the many ravines of that region.
If some man that night had told the Libyans that palm-trees and wheat were growing in the valley of the Soda Lakes they would have been astonished less than if he had declared that the Egyptians had barred the way to it.
After a short rest, during which the priests had discovered and cleared out a few wells of water somewhat endurable for drinking, the Egyptian army began to occupy the hills extending along the northern side of the valley.
The viceroy's plan was quite simple. He was to cut off the Libyans from their country, and push them southward into the desert, where heat and hunger would kill them.
With this object he disposed his army on the northern side of the valley and divided it into three corps. The right wing, that which extended most toward Libya, was led by Patrokles, who was to cut off the invaders from their own town of Glaucus. The left wing, that nearest to Egypt, commanded by Mentezufis, was to stop the Libyans from advancing. Finally, the direction of the centre, at the glass huts, was taken by Ramses, who had Pentuer near his person.
On the fifteenth of Hator about seven in the morning, some tens of Libyan horsemen moved at a brisk trot through the valley. They stopped a moment at the huts, looked around, and, seeing nothing suspicious, rode back again.
At about ten in the forenoon in a heat which seemed to suck sweat and draw blood from men's bodies, Pentuer said to the viceroy,
"The Libyans have entered the valley and passed Patrokles' division. They will be here in an hour from now."
"Whence knowest Thou this?" asked the astonished prince.
"The priests know everything," replied Pentuer, smiling.
Then he ascended one of the cliffs cautiously, took from a bag a very bright object and turning it in the direction of the holy Mentezufis began to give certain signs with his hand.
"Mentezufis is informed already," said Pentuer.
The prince could not recover from astonishment and answered,
"My eyes are better than thine, and my hearing is not worse, I think; still I see nothing, I hear nothing. How, then, dost Thou see the enemy and converse with Mentezufis?"
Pentuer directed the prince to look at a distant hill, on the summit of which was a thorn bush. Ramses looked at that point and shaded his eyes on a sudden. In the bush something flashed brightly.
"What unendurable glitter is that?" cried he. "It might blind a man."
"That is the priest who is aiding the worthy Patrokles; he is giving us signs," replied Pentuer. "Thou seest, then, worthy lord, that we, too, can be useful in war time."
He was silent. From the distance of the valley came a certain sound; at first low, gradually it grew clearer. At this sound the Egyptian soldiers hidden at the sides of the hill began to spring up, look at their weapons, and whisper. But the sharp commands of officers quieted them, and again the silence was deathlike along the cliffs on the north side.
Meanwhile that distant sound in the valley increased and passed into an uproar in which, on the bases of thousands of voices a man could distinguish songs, sounds of flutes, squeaks of chariots, the neighing of horses, and the cries of commanders. The prince's heart was now beating with violence; he could not resist his curiosity, and he clambered up to a rocky height whence a large part of the valley was visible.
Surrounded by rolls of yellow dust the Libyan corps was approaching deliberately, and seemed like a serpent some miles in length, with blue, white, and red spots on its body.
At its head marched from ten to twenty horsemen, one of whom, wearing a white mantle, was sitting on his horse as on a bench, both his legs on the left side of the animal. Behind the horsemen marched a crowd of slingers in gray shirts, then some dignitary in a litter, over whom a large parasol was carried. Farther was a division of spearmen in blue and red shirts, then a great band of men almost naked, armed with clubs, again slingers and spearmen, behind them a red division with scythes and axes. They came on more or less in ranks of four; but in spite of shouts of officers, that order was interrupted, and each four treading on others, broke ranks continually.
Singing and talking loudly, the Libyan serpent crawled out into the broadest part of the valley, opposite the huts and the Soda Lakes. Order was disturbed now more considerably. Those marching in advance stopped, for it had been said that there would be a halt at that point; the columns behind hurried so as to reach the halt and rest all the earlier. Some ran out of the ranks, and laying down their weapons, rushed into the lake, or took up in their palms its malodorous water; others, sitting on the ground, took dates from bags, or drank vinegar and water from their bottles.
High above the camp floated a number of vultures.
Unspeakable sadness and terror seized Ramses at this spectacle. Before his eyes flies began to circle; for the twinkle of an eye he lost consciousness; it seemed to him that he would have yielded his throne not to be at that place, and not to see what was going to happen. He hurried down from the cliff looking with wandering eyes straight out in front of him.
At that moment Pentuer approached and pulled him by the arm vigorously.
"Recover, leader," said he; "Patrokles is waiting for orders."
"Patrokles?" repeated the prince, and he looked around quickly.
Before him stood Pentuer, deathly pale, but collected. A couple of steps farther on was Tutmosis, also pale; in his trembling hand was an officer's whistle. From behind the hill bent forth soldiers, on whose faces deep emotion was evident.
"Ramses," repeated Pentuer, "the army is waiting."
The prince looked at the priest with desperate decision.
"Begin!" said he in a stifled whisper.
Pentuer raised his glittering talisman, and made some signs in the air with it. Tutmosis gave a low whistle; that whistle was repeated in distant ravines on the right and the left. Egyptian slingers began to climb up the hillsides.
It was about midday.
Ramses recovered gradually from his first impressions and looked around carefully. He saw his staff, a division of spearmen and axemen under veteran officers, finally slingers, advancing along the cliff leisurely. And he was convinced that not one of those men had the wish to die or even to fight and move around in that heat, which was terrible.
All at once from the height of some hill was heard a mighty voice, louder than the roar of a lion,
"Soldiers of the pharaoh, slay those Libyan dogs! The gods are with you."
To this unearthly voice answered two voices no less powerful: the prolonged shout of the Egyptian army, and the immense outcry of the Libyans.
The prince had no need to conceal himself longer, and ascended an eminence whence he could see the hostile forces distinctly. Before him stretched a long line of Egyptian slingers who seemed as if they had grown up from the earth, and a couple of hundred yards distant the Libyan column moving forward in dust clouds. The trumpets, the whistles, the curses of barbarian officers were heard calling to order. Those who were sitting sprang up; those who were drinking snatched their weapons and ran to their places; chaotic throngs developed into ranks, and all this took place amid outcries and tumult. Meanwhile the Egyptian slingers cast a number of missiles each minute. They were as calm and well ordered as at a maneuver. The decurions indicated to their men the hostile crowds against which they must strike, and in the course of some minutes they covered them with a shower of stones and leaden bullets. The prince saw that after every such shower a Libyan crowd scattered and very often one man remained on the earth behind the others.
Still the Libyan ranks formed and withdrew outside the reach of missiles, then their slingers pushed forward and with equal swiftness and coolness replied to the Egyptians. At times there were bursts of laughter in their ranks and shouts of delight at the fall of some Egyptian slinger.
Soon above the heads of the prince and his retinue stones began to whizz and whistle. One, cast adroitly, struck the arm of an adjutant, and broke the bone in it; another knocked the helmet from a second adjutant; a third, falling at the prince's feet, was broken against the cliff and struck the leader's face with fragments as hot as boiling water.
The Libyans laughed loudly and shouted out something: apparently they were abusing the viceroy.
Fear and, above all, compassion and pity left the soul of Ramses in an instant. He saw before him no longer people threatened by death and anguish, but lines of savage beasts which he had to kill or deprive of weapons. Mechanically he reached for his sword to lead on the spearmen awaiting command, but he was restrained by contempt of the enemy. Was he to stain himself with the blood of that rabble? Warriors were there for that purpose.
Meanwhile the battle continued, and the brave Libyan slingers, while shouting and even singing, began to press forward. From both sides missiles whizzed like beetles, buzzed like bees, sometimes they struck one another in the air with a crack, and every minute or two on this side or that some warrior went to the rear groaning, or fell dead immediately. But this did not spoil the humor of others: they fought with malicious delight, which gradually changed to rage and self oblivion.
Then from afar on the right wing were heard sounds of trumpets, and shouts repeated frequently. That was the unterrified Patrokles; drunk since daylight, he was attacking the rear guard of Libya.
"Charge!" said the prince.
Immediately that order was repeated by one, two, ten trumpets, and after a moment the Egyptian companies pushed out from all the ravines. The slingers disposed on the hilltops redoubled their efforts, while in the valley, without haste, but also without disorder, the Egyptian spearmen and axemen arranged in four columns moved forward gradually.
"Strengthen the centre," said the prince.
A trumpet repeated the command. Behind two columns of the first line two new columns were placed. Before the Egyptians had finished that maneuver, under a storm of missiles, the Libyans, following their example, had arranged themselves in eight columns against the main corps of Egypt.
"Forward, reserves!" shouted the prince. "See," said he, turning to one of the adjutants, "whether the left wing is ready."
To see the valley at a glance, and more accurately, the adjutant rushed in among the slingers, and fell immediately, but beckoned with his hand. Another rushed to replace him and returned quickly to state that both wings of the prince's division were drawn up in order.
From the division commanded by Patrokles came an increasing uproar, and higher than the hill dense rolls of dark smoke were rising.
An officer from Pentuer ran to the prince reporting that the Libyan camp had been fired by the Greek regiments.
"Force the centre!" cried Ramses.
Trumpet after trumpet sounded the attack, and when they had ceased the command was heard in the central column, and then followed the rhythmic roll of drums and the beat of the infantry step, marching slowly and in time: one two! one two! one two! The command was repeated on the right and on the left wing; again drums rolled and the wing columns moved forward: one two! one two!
The Libyan slingers began to withdraw, showering stones on the marching Egyptians. But though one warrior fell after another, the columns moved on without stopping; they marched slowly, regularly, one two! one two! one two!
The yellow cloud, growing ever denser, indicated the march of the Egyptian battalions. The slingers could hurl stones no longer, and there came a comparative quiet in the midst of which were heard sobs and groans from wounded warriors.
"It is rare that they march on review so well," cried Ramses to the staff officers.
"They are not afraid of sticks this time," grumbled a veteran officer.
The space between the dust cloud around the Egyptians and that on the Libyan side decreased every minute, but the barbarians, halting, stood motionless, and behind their line a second cloud made its appearance. Evidently some reserve was strengthening the central column, which was threatened by the wildest of onsets.
The heir ran down from his eminence and mounted; the last Egyptian reserves poured out of the ravines, fixed themselves in ranks, and waited for the order. Behind the infantry pushed out some hundreds of Asiatic horsemen on small but enduring horses.
The prince hurried after the columns advancing to attack, and when he had gone a hundred yards he found a new eminence, not high, but from which he could see the whole field of battle. The retinue, the Asiatic cavalry, and the reserve column hurried after him.
The prince looked impatiently toward the left wing whence
Mentezufis had to come, but he was not coming. The Libyans stood immovable, the situation seemed more and more serious.
The viceroy's division was the stronger, but against it were arrayed almost all the Libyan forces. The two sides were equal as to numbers; the prince had no doubt of victory, but he dreaded the immense loss since his opponent was so manful.
Besides, battle has caprices.
Over men who have gone to attack, the leader's influence has ceased, he controls them no longer; Ramses has only a regiment of reserves, and a handful of cavalry. If one of the Egyptian columns is beaten, or if reinforcements come to the foe unexpectedly!
The prince rubbed his forehead at this thought. He felt all the responsibility of a leader. He was like a dice thrower who has staked all he owns, cast his dice, and asks, "How will they come out?"
The Egyptians are a few tens of yards from the Libyan columns. The command, the trumpets, the drums sound hurriedly, and the troops move at a run: one two three! one two three! But on the side of the enemy also a trumpet is heard, two ranks of spears are lowered, drums beat. At a run! New rolls of dust rise, then they unite in one immense cloud. The roar of human voices, the rattle of spears, the biting of scythes, then a shrill groan which is soon lost in one general uproar.
Along the whole line of battle neither men, nor weapons, nor even columns are visible, nothing but a line of yellow, dust stretching along like a giant serpent. The denser cloud signifies places where the columns are struggling; the thinner, where there are breaks in the columns.
After some minutes of satanic uproar the heir sees that the dust on his left wing is bending back very slowly.
"Strengthen the left wing!" shouts Ramses.
One half of the reserve runs to the place pointed out, and disappears in the sand cloud; the left wing straightens itself, the right goes forward slowly always in one direction.
"Strengthen the centre!" cries Ramses.
The second half of the reserve advances and vanishes in the sand cloud. The shout increased for a moment, but no forward movement is visible.
"Those wretches fight desperately," said an old officer of the suite to Ramses. "It is high time that Mentezufis were here."
The prince summoned the leader of the Asiatic cavalry.
"But look to the right," said he; "there must be a bend there."
"Go cautiously so as not to trample our warriors and attack those dogs in their central column, on the flank."
"They must be chained, for somehow they stand too long," replied the Asiatic, smiling.
The prince has now about two hundred of his own cavalry, and these advance, with the others, at a trot, crying,
"May our chief live forever!"
The heat passes description. The prince strains eyes and ears to see through the sand cloud. He waits and waits. All at once he shouts with delight. The centre of the cloud quivers and moves forward slightly.
Again it stops, again it moves forward slowly, very slowly, but still it moves forward.
The din is so tremendous that no one can decide what it means: rage, defeat, or victory.
Now the right wing begins to bend outward and withdraw in a strange manner. In the rear of the wing appears a new dust cloud. At the same moment Pentuer races up, dismounts, and shouts,
"Patrokles is engaging the rear of the Libyans!"
The confusion on the right wing increases, and is passing to the centre. It is clear that the Libyans are beginning to withdraw, and that panic is seizing even their main column.
The whole staff of the prince, roused to the uttermost, follows the movements of the yellow dust, feverishly. In a few minutes alarm appears on the left wing. The Libyans have begun to flee in that quarter.
"May I never see another sun, if this is not a victory!" cried a veteran officer.
A courier rushes in from the priests, who from the highest hill had followed the course of the battle, and reports that on the left wing the troops of Mentezufis are visible, and that the Libyans are surrounded on three sides.
"They would fly like deer if the sand did not hinder them."
"Victory! May our chief live forever!" cried Pentuer.
It was only two hours after midday.
The Asiatic cavalry sing loudly, and send arrows into the air in honor of Ramses. The staff officers discount, and rush to kiss the hands and feet of the viceroy; at last they take him from the saddle, raise him in the air, shouting,
"Here is a mighty leader! He has trampled the enemies of Egypt! Amon is on his right, and on his left, who can oppose him?"
Meanwhile the Libyans, pushing back all the time, had ascended the sandy hills on the south, and after them Egyptians. From out the cloud came horsemen every minute and rushed to Ramses.
"Mentezufis has taken them in the rear!" cried one.
"Two hundred have surrendered!" cried another.
"Patrokles has taken them in the rear!"
"Three Libyan standards are captured: the ram, the lion, and the sparrow-hawk!"
More and more men gathered round the staff: it was surrounded by warriors who were bloody and dust-covered.
"May he live through eternity! May he live through eternity, our leader!"
The prince was so excited, that he laughed and cried in turn and said to his retinue,
"The gods have been compassionate. I feared that we had lost. Evil is the plight of a leader; without drawing a sword and even without seeing, he must answer for everything!"
"Live thou, O conquering commander, live through eternity!" cried the warriors.
"A fine victory for me!" laughed Ramses. "I do not know even how they won it."
"He wins a victory, and wonders how it came!" cried some one in the retinue.
"I say that I saw not the face of the battle," explained the prince.
"Be at rest, our commander," said Pentuer. "Thou didst dispose the army so wisely that the enemy had to be beaten. And in what way? Just as if that did not belong to thee, but the regiments."
"I did not even draw a sword. I do not see one Libyan," complained the prince.
On the southern heights there was a struggling and a seething, but in the valley the dust had begun to settle here and there, and a crowd of Egyptian soldiers were visible as through a mist, their spears pointed upward.
Ramses turned his horse in that direction and rode out to the deserted field of battle, where just recently had been the struggle of the central column. It was a place some hundreds of yards in width, with deep furrows filled with bodies of the dead and wounded. On the side along which the prince was approaching, Egyptians and Libyans lay intermixed, in a long line, still farther on there were almost none except Libyans.
In places bodies lay close to bodies; sometimes on one spot three or four were piled one on another. The sand was stained with brownish blood patches; the wounds were ghastly. Both hands were cut from one man, another had his head split to the body, from a third man, the entrails were dropping. Some were howling in convulsions, and from their mouths, filled with sand, came forth curses, or prayers imploring some one to slay them.
Ramses passed along hastily, not looking around, though some of the wounded men shouted feebly in his honor.
Not far from that place he met the first crowd of prisoners. They fell on their faces before him and begged for compassion.
"Proclaim pardon to the conquered and the obedient," said he to his staff.
A number of horsemen rushed off in various directions. Soon a trumpet was heard, and after it a piercing voice,
"By the order of his worthiness the prince in command, prisoners and wounded are not to be slain!"
In answer came wild shouts, evidently from prisoners.
"At command of the prince," a second voice cried in singing tones in another direction, "prisoners and wounded are not to be slain!"
Meanwhile on the southern heights the battle ceased and two of the largest Libyan divisions laid down their arms before the Greek regiments.
The valiant Patrokles, in consequence of the heat, as he said himself of ardent drink, as thought others barely held himself in the saddle. He rubbed his tearful eyes, and turned to the prisoners.
"Mangy dogs!" cried he, "who raise sinful hands on the army of his holiness (may the worms devour you)! Ye will perish like lice under the nail of a pious Egyptian, if ye do not tell this minute where your leader is, may leprosy eat off his nose and drink his blear eyes out!"
At that moment the prince appeared. The general greeted him with respect, but did not stop his investigation.
"I will have belts cut from your bodies! I will impale you on stakes, if I do not learn this minute where that poisonous reptile is, that son of a wild boar."
"Ei! where our leader is?" cried one of the Libyans, pointing to a little crowd on horseback which was advancing slowly in the depth of the desert.
"What is that?" inquired the prince.
"The wretch Musawasa is fleeing!" said Patrokles, and he almost fell to the ground.
The blood rushed to Ramses' head.
Then Musawasa was here and escaped?
"Hei! whoso has the best horse, follow me!"
"Well," said Patrokles, laughing, "that sheep-stealer himself will bleat now!"
Pentuer stopped the way to the prince.
"It is not for thee to hunt fugitives, worthiness."
"What?" cried the heir. "During this whole battle I did not raise a hand on any man, and now I am to give up the Libyan leader? What would be said by the warriors whom I have sent out under spears and axes?"
"The army cannot remain without a leader."
"But are not Patrokles, Tutmosis, and finally Mentezufis, here? For what purpose am I commander if I cannot hunt the enemy? They are a few hundred yards from us and have tired horses."
"We will come back in an hour with him. He is only an arm's length from us!" whispered some Asiatic.
"Patrokles, Tutmosis, I leave the army to you!" cried the heir. "Rest. I will come back immediately."
He put spurs to his horse and advanced at a trot, sinking in the sand, and behind him about twenty horsemen, with Pentuer.
"Why art Thou here, O prophet?" asked Ramses. "Better sleep today Thou hast rendered good service."
"I may be of use yet," added Pentuer.
"But remain I command thee!"
"The supreme council commands me not to go one step from thee, worthiness."
Ramses shook himself angrily.
"But if we fall into an ambush?"
"I will not leave thee in ambush," answered the priest.
Chapter XLIV
THERE was in his voice so much kindliness that the astonished prince was silent and let him go.
They were in the desert; a couple of hundred yards behind them was an army; in front were fugitives several hundred yards in advance. But though they beat and urged on their horses, the fleeing, as well as the pursuers, advanced with great difficulty. The sun poured from above dreadful heat on them, the fine but sharp dust pushed itself into their mouths, into their nostrils, into their eyes above all; under their horses' feet the burning sand gave way at every step. In the air reigned a deathlike silence.
"But it will not continue like this," said Ramses.
"It will be worse and worse," answered Pentuer. "Dost Thou see, worthiness," he indicated the fugitives, "their horses are in sand to their knees?"
The prince laughed, for at that moment they came out on ground which was firmer, and trotted about a hundred yards. But soon their road was confronted by a sea of sand, and again they advanced step by step slowly.
Sweat poured from the men, there was foam on the horses.
"It is hot!" whispered the heir.
"Listen, lord," said Pentuer, "this is not a good day for hunting in the desert. This morning the sacred insects showed great disquiet, then dropped into lethargy. Also my knife of a priest went down very little in the earthen scabbard, which means intense heat. Both these phenomena the heat, and the lethargy of insects may announce a tempest. Let us return, for not only have we lost sight of the camp, but even sounds from there do not reach to us."
Ramses looked at the priest almost contemptuously.
"And dost Thou think, O prophet," said he, "that I, having once commanded the capture of Musawasa, can return empty handed because I fear heat and a tempest?"
They went on without stopping. At one place there was hard ground again, thanks to which they approached the fugitives to within the distance of a sling cast.
"Hei, ye there!" cried the heir, "yield."
The Libyans did not even look behind, and waded on through the sand with great effort. After a while one might suppose that they would be overtaken. Soon again, however, the prince's party struck on deep sand while the Libyans hastening forward vanished beyond an elevation.
The Asiatics cursed, the prince gritted his teeth.
At last the horses began to stumble more and to be weary, so the riders had to dismount and go on foot. All at once an Asiatic grew purple, and fell on the sand. The prince commanded to cover him with a mantle, and said,
"We will take him on the way back."
After great toil they reached the top of the sand height, and saw the Libyans. For them too the road had been murderous, two of their horses had stopped.
The camp of the Egyptian army was hidden completely behind the rolling land, and if Pentuer and the Asiatics had not known how to guide themselves by the sun they could not have gone back to the camping- place. In the prince's party another man fell, and threw bloody foam from his mouth. He was left, with his horse. To finish their trouble, on the outline of the sands stood a group of cliffs; among these the Libyans vanished.
"Lord," said Pentuer, "that may be an ambush."
"Let it be death, and let it take me!" replied the heir, in a changed voice.
The priest gazed at him with wonder; he had not supposed such resolve in Ramses.
The cliffs were not distant, but the road was laborious beyond description. They had not only to walk themselves, but to drag their horses out of the soft sand. They waded, sinking below their ankles; they sank to their knees even in some places.
Meanwhile the sun was flaming above them, that dreadful sun of the desert, every ray of which not only baked and blinded, but pricked also. The men dropped from weariness: in one, tongue and lips were swollen; another had a roaring in his head, and saw black patches before his eyes; drowsiness seized a third, all felt pain in their joints, and lost the sensation of heat. Had any one asked if it were hot, they would not have answered.
The ground grew firm under their feet again, and the party passed in between the cliffs.
The prince, who had more presence of mind than those who were with him, heard the snorting of horses; he turned to one side, and in the shade cast by the cliff saw a crowd of people lying as each man had dropped. Those were the Libyans.
One of them, a youth of twenty years, wore an embroidered purple shirt, a gold chain was around his neck, and he carried a sword richly mounted. He seemed unconscious; the eyes were turned in his head, and there was foam on his lips. In him Ramses recognized the chief. He approached him, drew the chain from his neck, and unfastened his sword.
Some old Libyan who seemed less wearied than others, seeing this, called out,
"Though Thou art victor, Egyptian, respect the prince's son, who is chief."
"Is he the son of Musawasa?" asked Ramses.
"Thou hast spoken truth," replied the Libyan. "This is Tehenna, the son of Musawasa; he is our leader; he is worthy to be even prince of Egypt."
"But where is Musawasa?"
"In Glaucus. He will collect a great army and avenge us."
The other Libyans said nothing; they did not even look at their conquerors.
At command of Ramses the Asiatics disarmed them without the least trouble, and sat down in the shade themselves.
At that moment they were all neither enemies nor friends, only men who were mortally wearied. Death was hovering over all, but beyond rest they had no desire.
Pentuer, seeing that Tehenna remained unconscious, knelt near him and bent above his head so that no one saw what he was doing. Soon Tehenna sighed, struggled, and opened his eyes; then he sat up, rubbed his forehead, as if roused from a deep steep, which had not yet left him.
"Tehenna, leader of the Libyans, Thou and thy people are prisoners of his holiness," said Ramses.
"Better slay me here," said Tehenna, "if I must lose my freedom."
"If thy father, Musawasa, will submit and make peace with Egypt, Thou wilt be free and happy."
The Libyan turned his face aside, and lay down careless of everything; he seemed to be sleeping.
He came to himself, in a quarter of an hour, somewhat fresher. He gazed at the desert and cried out with delight: on the horizon a green country was visible, water, many palms, and somewhat higher, a town and a temple.
Around him all were sleeping, both Asiatics and Libyans. But Pentuer, standing on a rock, had shaded his eyes with his hand and was looking in some direction.
"Pentuer! Pentuer!" cried Ramses. "Dost Thou see that oasis?"
He sprang up and ran to the priest, whose face was full of anxiety.
"Dost Thou see the oasis?"
"That is no oasis," said Pentuer; "that is the ghost of some region which is wandering about through the desert a region no longer in existence. But over there over there is reality!" added he, pointing southward.
"Are they mountains?"
"Look more sharply."
The prince looked, and saw something suddenly.
"It seems to me that a dark mass is rising my sight must be dulled."
"That is Typhon," whispered the priest. "The gods alone have power to save us, if only they have the wish."
Indeed, Ramses felt on his face a breath, which amid the heat of the desert seemed all at once hot to him. That breath, at first very delicate, increased, growing hotter and hotter, and at the same time the dark streak rose in the sky with astonishing swiftness.
"What shall we do?" asked Ramses.
"These cliffs," said the priest, "will shelter us from being covered with sand, but they will not keep away dust or the heat which is increasing continually. But in a day or two days."
"Does Typhon blow that long?"
"Sometimes three and four days. But sometimes he springs up for a couple of hours, and drops suddenly, like a vulture pierced with an arrow. That happens very rarely."
The prince became gloomy, though he did not lose courage. The priest, drawing from under his mantle a little green flask, said,
"Here is an elixir. It should last thee a number of days. Whenever Thou art afraid, or feel drowsy, drink a drop. In that way Thou wilt be strengthened and endure."
"But thou, and the others?"
"My fate is in the hands of the One. As to the rest of the people, they are not heirs to the throne of Egypt."
"I do not wish this liquid!" cried the prince, pushing away the little bottle.
"Thou must take it!" said Pentuer. "Remember that the Egyptian people have fixed their hopes on thee. Remember that on thee is their blessing."
The black cloud had covered half the sky, and the hot wind blew with such force that the prince and priest had to go to the foot of the cliff.
"The Egyptian people? their blessing?" repeated Ramses.
All at once he called out,
"Was it Thou who conversed with me a year ago in the garden? That was immediately after the maneuvers."
"That same day, when Thou hadst compassion on the man who hanged himself through despair because his canal was destroyed," answered the priest.
"Thou didst save my house and the Jewess Sarah from the rabble who wished to stone her."
"I did," said Pentuer. "And soon after Thou didst free the innocent laborers from prison, and didst not permit Dagon to torture thy people with new tribute."
"For this people," continued the priest in a louder voice, "for the compassion which Thou hast always shown them I bless thee again today. Perhaps Thou art the only one who will be saved here, but remember that the oppressed people of Egypt will save thee, they who look to thee for redemption."
Hereupon it grew dark; from the south came a shower of hot sand, and such a mighty wind rose that it threw down a horse that was standing in the open. The Asiatics and the Libyan prisoners all woke, but each man merely pressed up to the cliff more closely, and possessed by great fear remained silent.
In nature something dreadful was happening. Night covered the earth, and through the sky black or ruddy clouds of sand rushed with mad impetus. It seemed as though all the sand of the desert, now alive, had sprung up and was flying to some place with the speed of a stone whirled from the sling of a warrior.
The heat was like that in a bath: on the hands and feet the skin burst, the tongue dried, breath produced a pricking in the breast. The fine grains of sand burnt like fire sparks.
Pentuer forced the bottle to the prince's lips. Ramses drank a couple of drops and felt a marvelous change: the pain and heat ceased to torment him; his thought regained freedom.
"And this may last a couple of days?" asked he.
"It may last four," replied Pentuer.
"But ye sages, favorites of the gods, have ye no means of saving people from such a tempest?"
The priest thought awhile, and answered,
"In the world there is only one sage who can struggle with evil spirits. But he is not here."
Typhon had been blowing for half an hour with inconceivable fury. It had become almost like night. At moments the wind weakened, the black clouds pushed apart; in the sky was a bloody sun, on the earth an ominous light of ruddy color. The hot stifling wind grew more violent, the clouds of sand thicker. The ghastly light was extinguished, and in the air were heard sounds and noises to which human ears are not accustomed.
It was near sunset, but the violence of the tempest increased, and the unendurable heat rose' continually. From time to time a gigantic bloody spot appeared above the horizon, as if a world fire were coming.
All at once the prince saw that Pentuer was not before him. He strained his ear and heard a voice, crying,
"Beroes! Beroes! If Thou cannot help us, who can? Beroes! in the name of the One, the Almighty, who knows neither end nor beginning, I call on thee."
On the northern extremity of the desert, thunder was heard. The prince was frightened, since thunder for an Egyptian was almost as rare a phenomenon as a comet.
"Beroes! Beroes!" repeated the priest in a deep voice.
Ramses strained his eyes in the direction of the voice, and saw a dark human figure with arms uplifted. From the head, the fingers, and even from the clothing of that figure, light bluish sparks were flashing.
"Beroes! Beroes!"
A prolonged roar of thunder was heard nearer; lightning gleamed amid clouds of sand, and filled the desert with lurid flashes.
A fresh peal of thunder, and again lightning.
The prince felt that the violence of the tempest was decreasing, and the heat also. The sand which had been whirled through the air began to fall to the earth now, the sky became ashen gray, next ruddy, next milk-colored. At last all was silent, and after a while thunder was heard again, and a cool breeze from the north appeared.
The Asiatics and Libyans, tormented by heat, regained consciousness.
"Warriors of the pharaoh," said the old Libyan on a sudden, "do ye hear that noise in the desert?"
"Will there be another tempest?"
"No; that is rain."
In fact some cold drops fell from the sky, then more of them, till at last there was a downpour accompanied by thunder.
Among the soldiers of Ramses and their prisoners mad delight sprang up suddenly. Without caring for the thunder and lightning the men, who a moment before had been scorched with heat, and tormented by thirst, ran under the rain like small children. In the dark they washed themselves and their horses, they caught water in their caps and leather bags, and above all they drank and drank eagerly.
"Is not this a miracle?" cried Ramses. "Were it not for this blessed rain we should all perish here in the burning grasp of Typhon."
"It happens," said the old Libyan, "that the southern sandy wind rouses a wind from the sea and brings heavy rain to us."
Ramses was touched disagreeably by these words, for he had attributed the downpour to Pentuer's prayers. He turned to the Libyan, and asked,
"And does it happen that sparks flash from people's bodies?"
"It is always so when the wind blows from the desert," answered the Libyan. "Just now we saw sparks jumping not only from men, but from horses."
In his voice there was such conviction that the prince approaching an officer of his cavalry whispered,
"But look at the Libyans."
When he had said this some one made a noise in the darkness, and after a while tramping was heard. When a flash lighted up the desert they saw a man escaping on horseback.
"Bind these wretches!" cried the prince, "and kill any one who resists you. Woe to thee, Tehenna, if that scoundrel brings thy brethren against us. Ye will perish in dreadful tortures, Thou and thy men here."
In spite of rain, darkness, and thunder the prince's soldiers hurried to bind the Libyans, who made no resistance.
Perhaps they were waiting for Tehenna's command, but he was so crushed that he had not even thought of fleeing.
The storm subsided gradually, and instead of that heat of the daytime a piercing cold seized the desert. The men and horses had drunk all they wanted; the bags were full of water; there were dates and cakes in abundance, so a good disposition prevailed. The thunder grew weak; at last even noiseless lightning flashed less and less frequently; on the northern sky the clouds parted; here and there stars twinkled.
Pentuer approached Ramses,
"Let us return to the camp," said he. "In a couple of hours we shall be there, before the man who has escaped can lead forth an enemy."
"How shall we find the camp in such darkness?" asked Ramses.
"Have ye torches?" asked the priest of the Asiatics.
Torches, or long cords soaked in an inflammable substance they had; but there was no fire, for their wooden fire-drills were rain soaked.
"We must wait till morning," said Ramses, impatiently.
Pentuer made no answer. He took a small instrument from his bag, took a torch from one of the soldiers, and went to one side. After a while there was a low hissing, and the torch was lighted.
"He is a great magician, that priest," muttered the old Libyan.
"Before my eyes Thou hast performed a second miracle," said the prince. "Canst Thou explain to me how that was done?"
The priest shook his head.
"Ask of me anything, lord, and I will answer. But ask not to explain temple secrets."
"Not even if I were to name thee my counselor?"
"Not even then. Never shall I be a traitor, and even if I desired to be one I should be terrified by punishment."
"Punishment?" repeated Ramses. "Aha! I remember in the temple of Hator, that man hidden under the pavement, on whom the priests were pouring burning pitch. Did they do that, indeed, and did that man die really in tortures?"
Pentuer was silent, as if not hearing the question, and drew out slowly from his wonderful bag a small statue of a divinity with crossed arms. The statue depended from a string; the priest let it hang, and whispered a prayer, while he watched it. The statue, after some turnings and quiverings, hung without motion.
Ramses, by the light of the torch, looked at these acts with astonishment.
"What art Thou doing?" asked he.
"I can only say this much to thee, worthiness," replied Pentuer, "that this divinity points with one hand at the star Eshmun. This hand leads Phoenician ships through the sea during night hours."
"Then the Phoenicians, too, have this god?"
"They do not even know of him. The god which points one hand always to the star Eshmun, [Polar Star] is known only to us and the priests of Chaldea. By the aid of this god every prophet night and day, in bad and good weather, can find his way on the sea or in the desert."
At command of the prince, who went with a lighted torch at the side of Pentuer, the retinue and the prisoners followed the priest, northeastward. The god depending from a string trembled, but indicated with outstretched hand, the sacred star, Eshmun, the guardian of travelers.
They went on foot at a good pace, leading the horses. The cold was so sharp, that even Asiatics blew on their hands, and the Libyans trembled.
With that, something began to crackle and break underfoot. Pentuer stopped, and bent down.
"In this place," said he, "rain has made a pool on the rock. And see, worthy lord, what has become of the water."
Thus speaking, he raised and showed the prince what seemed a plate of glass, but which melted in his hand.
"When there is great cold," said he, "water becomes a transparent stone."
The Asiatics confirmed the words of the priest, and added that far away in the north, water turned into stone very often, and fog turned into a white salt which is tasteless, but breaks in the hands and causes pain in the teeth.
The prince admired Pentuer's wisdom still more.
Meanwhile, the northern side of the heavens grew clear, showing the Great Bear and the star, Eshmun. The priest repeated a prayer again, put the-guiding god into his bag, and commanded to quench the torches, and to leave only a burning cord which kept the fire, and indicated time by its gradual burning.
The prince enjoined watchfulness on his men, and taking Pentuer, pushed ahead some tens of paces.
"Pentuer," said he, "from this hour I make thee my counselor, both now and when it shall please the gods to give me the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt."
"How have I deserved this favor?"
"Before my eyes Thou hast done deeds which show great wisdom, and also power over spirits. Besides Thou wert ready to save me. So, although it is thy resolve to keep many things from my knowledge."
"Pardon, lord," interrupted Pentuer. "For gold and jewels, Thou wilt find traitors shouldst Thou need them, among priests even. But I am not of those men. For think, were I to betray the gods, what bond could I give not to betray thee also?"
Ramses grew thoughtful.
"Thou hast answered wisely," said he. "But it is a wonder to me why thou, a priest, hast for me kindness in thy heart. Thou didst bless me a year ago, and today Thou wouldst not let me go alone into the desert, and hast shown me great service."
"Because the gods have forewarned me that Thou art worthy, lord; shouldst Thou wish, Thou mayst rescue the ill-fated people of Egypt."
"How do the people concern thee?"
"I came from them. My father and brother raised water long days from the Nile, and received blows of sticks for their labor."
"How can I aid the people?" asked Ramses.
Pentuer grew animated.
"Thy people," said he, with emotion, "toil too much, they pay too much tribute, they suffer persecution and misery. Hard is the fate of the toiling man. The worm eats half his harvest, the rhinoceros the other half; in the fields, a legion of mice live; the locust devours, the cattle trample, the sparrows steal. What is left after these for the threshing floor the thief takes. Oh, wretched earth-tillers! Now comes the scribe to the boundary and mentions the harvest. His attendants have sticks, and black men carry palm rods. 'Give wheat!' say they. He answers, 'There is none.' They flog him; immediately they stretch him out at full length they bind him; they hurl him into the canal, where they sink him, head downward. They bind his wife in his presence and also his children. His neighbors flee, carrying their wheat away with them." [Original description.]
"I have seen that myself," said Ramses, "and have driven off at least one scribe of that sort. But can I be everywhere to forestall injustice?"
"Thou mayst command, lord, not to torment working-men needlessly. Thou mayst decrease taxes, appoint days of rest for the earth-tillers. Thou mayst give each family a patch of land, even the harvest of which would be theirs, and serve to nourish them. In the opposite case they will feed themselves as they now do, with lotus seeds, rotten fish and papyrus, till thy people will perish finally. But show them favor and they will rise."
"Indeed, I will do so!" said Ramses. "A wise owner will not let cattle starve nor work beyond the strength of their bodies, or be clubbed without reason. This must be changed."
Pentuer halted.
"Dost Thou promise that, worthy lord?"
"I swear!" answered Ramses.
"Then I swear that Thou wilt be the most famous of all pharaohs; before thee the fame of Ramses the Great, will grow pale!" cried the priest, mastering himself no longer.
The prince fell to thinking, then asked,
"What can we two do against those priests who hate me?"
"They fear thee, lord," answered Pentuer. "They fear lest Thou begin war too soon against Assyria?"
"What is that to them if the war be successful?"
The priest bent his head and spread his hands, but was silent.
"Then I will tell thee," cried the prince, in anger. "They want no war! They fear that I might return from it a conqueror, laden with treasures, urging on slaves in front of me. They fear this because they wish every pharaoh to be a weak tool in their grasp, a utensil of no real value, a utensil to be thrown aside when the wish comes. But this will not happen in my case. Either I shall do what I plan, and which I, as the son and heir of the gods have the right to do, or I shall perish."
Pentuer drew back, and muttered an exorcism.
"Speak not thus, worthy lord," said he, in confusion, "lest evil spirits circling through the desert may seize thy words. A word, remember this, ruler, is like a stone sent from a sling; it may strike a wall, rebound, and hit the man who hurled it."
The prince motioned with his hand contemptuously.
"It is all one," replied he. "A life in which every one stops my will has no worth for me. When the gods do not bar me, the winds of the desert do; when evil spirits are not against me, the priests are. Is the power of a pharaoh to be of such sort. I wish to do what my mind says, to give account to my deathless ancestors, and to them only, not to this or that shaven head, who pretends to interpret the will of divinity, but who is really seizing power, and turning my wealth to his own use."
At some tens of yards from them a strange cry was heard at that moment, half neighing, half bleating, and an immense shadow sped past. It went like an arrow, and as far as could be seen had a humped back and a long neck.
From the prince's retinue came sounds of fear.
"That is a griffin! I saw its wings clearly," said one and another of the Asiatics.
"The desert is swarming with monsters," added the old Libyan.
Ramses was afraid; he also thought that the passing shadow had the head of a serpent, and something resembling short wings.
"Do monsters really show themselves in the desert?" asked he of the priest.
"It is true," said Pentuer, "that in such a lonely place evil spirits prowl about in strange guises. But it seems to me that that which has passed is rather a beast. It is like a saddle horse, only larger and quicker in movement. Dwellers in the oases say that this beast may live without drinking water at all, or at least very rarely. If that be the case, men hereafter may in crossing deserts use this strange creature, which today rouses fear only."
"I should not dare to sit on the back of a great beast like that," said Ramses, as he shook his head.
"Our ancestors said the same of the horse, which helped the Hyksos to conquer Egypt, but today it is indispensable to our army. Time changes men's judgments greatly," said Pentuer.
The last clouds had vanished from the sky and a clear night set in. Though the moon was absent the air was so clear that on the background of the white sand a man could distinguish the general outline of objects, even when small or distant. The piercing cold also diminished. All advanced now in silence, and sank, as they walked, in the sand to their ankles. Suddenly a tumult and cries rose among the Asiatics,
"A sphinx! Look, a sphinx! We shall not escape from this desert if specters show themselves all the time."
Indeed, outlines of a sphinx on a white limestone hill were seen very clearly. The body of a lion, an immense head with an Egyptian cap, and as it were a human profile.
"Calm yourselves, barbarians," said the old Libyan. "That is no sphinx; it is a lion, and he will do no harm, for he is occupied in eating."
"Indeed, that is a lion!" confirmed the prince halting. "But how he resembles a sphinx."
"He is the father of our sphinxes," added the priest in a low voice. "His face recalls a man's features, his mane is the wig."
"And our great sphinx, that at the pyramids?"
"Many ages before Menes," said Pentuer, "when there were no pyramids yet, there was on that spot a rock which looked like a recumbent lion, as if the gods wished in that way to indicate the beginning of the desert. The holy priests of that period commanded artists to hew the rock around with more accuracy and to fill out its lacks by additions. The artists, seeing people oftener than lions, cut out the face of a man, and thus the first sphinx had its origin."
"To which we give divine honor," said the prince, smiling.
"And justly," answered the priest. "For the gods made the first features of this work and men finished them under divine guidance. Our sphinx by its size and mysteriousness recalls the desert. It has the posture of spirits wandering through it, and terrifies men as does the desert. That sphinx is really the son of the gods and the father of terror."
"Everything has in its own way an earthly beginning," answered the prince. "The Nile does not flow from heaven, but from certain mountains which lie beyond Ethiopia. The pyramids, which Herhor said were an image of our state, are built on the model of mountain summits. And our temples, too, with their pylons and obelisks, with their gloom and coolness, do they not recall caves and mountains, extending along the Nile valley? How many times in hunting have I not gone astray among eastern ridges! I have always struck upon some strange collection of rocks which recalled a temple. Frequently even, on their rough sides, I have seen hieroglyphs written by wind and by rainstorms."
"In that, worthiness, Thou hast proof," said Pentuer, "that our temples were reared on a plan which the gods themselves outlined. And as a small kernel cast into the ground gives birth to a heaven-touching palm tree, so the picture of a cliff, a cave, a lion, even a lotus, placed in the soul of a pious pharaoh, gives birth to an alley of sphinxes, to temples and their mighty columns. Those are the works of divinities, not men, and happy is the ruler who when he looks can discover divine thought in earthly objects and present it in a form pleasing to future generations."
"But such a ruler must have power, much wealth, and not depend on the fancies of priests," interrupted Ramses.
Before them extended a second sandy elevation, on which at that moment appeared some horsemen.
"Are they our men, or the Libyans?" asked Ramses.
The sound of a horn was heard from the eminence; to this an answer was given by the prince's retinue. The horsemen came down as quickly as the deep sand would let them. When they had approached one cried out,
"Is the heir to the throne here?"
"He is, and is well!" cried Ramses.
They dismounted and fell on their faces.
"Oh, Erpatr!" cried the leader of the newly arrived, "thy troops are rending their garments and scattering dust on their heads, thinking that Thou hast perished. All the cavalry has scattered over the desert to find traces, while the gods have permitted us, the unworthy, to be first to greet thee."
The prince named the man a centurion and commanded him to present his subordinates for a reward on the morrow.
Chapter XLV
HALF an hour later dense throngs of the Egyptian army appeared and soon the escort of the prince was in the camp. From all sides were heard trumpets sounding the recall. Warriors seized their weapons, stood in ranks and shouted. Officers fell at the feet of the prince, then raised him in their arms, bore him around before the divisions, as they had after the triumph of the day previous. The walls of the ravine trembled from the shouts: "Live through eternity, victor! The gods are thy guardians!"
The holy Mentezufis, surrounded by torches, approached now. The heir, seeing the priest, tore Himself free from the arms of the officers and hurried to him.
"Know, holy father, we have caught the Libyan chief Tehenna."
"Vain is the capture," replied the priest severely, "for which the supreme chief must leave his army; especially when a new enemy may attack at any moment."
The prince felt all the justice of this reproach, but for that very cause did anger spring up in him. He clinched his fist, his eyes gleamed.
"In the name of thy mother, be silent," whispered Pentuer, standing behind him.
The heir was so astonished by the unexpected words of his adviser, that in one moment he regained self-control, and then he understood that it would be best to recognize his error.
"Thou speakest truth," answered he. "An army should never leave its leader, nor the leader his army. I thought, however, that Thou wouldst take my place, since Thou art a representative of the ministry of war."
The calm answer mollified Mentezufis, so the priest did not remind the prince of the maneuvers of the previous year when he left the army in the same way and incurred the pharaoh's disfavor.
At that moment Patrokles approached them with great uproar. The Grecian general was drunk again and called from afar to the viceroy,
"See, heir, what the holy Mentezufis has done. Thou didst proclaim pardon to the Libyans who would leave the invaders and return to the army of his holiness. Those men came to me, and owing to thy promise I broke the left wing of the enemy. But the worthy Mentezufis gave command to slay every man of them. About a thousand prisoners have perished all recent warriors of ours, who were to have pardon."
The blood rushed to the prince's head again, but Pentuer, who stood there always behind him, whispered,
"Be silent, for the sake of the gods, be silent."
But Patrokles had no adviser, so he continued,
"From this moment we lose forever, not only the confidence of others, but also that of our own people. For our army must become demoralized utterly when it learns that traitors are forcing their way to the head of it."
"Vile hireling," replied Mentezufis, coldly, "how darest Thou talk thus of the army and the confidants of his holiness? Since the world became the world such blasphemy has not been uttered! And I fear lest the gods may avenge the insult wrought on them."
Patrokles laughed loudly.
"While I sleep among the Greeks, I am not afraid of the vengeance of night gods. And while I am on the alert they will do nothing in the daytime."
"Go to sleep! go among thy Greeks, drunkard," said Mentezufis, "lest a thunderbolt fall on our heads because of thy offenses."
"On thy shaven head, Thou soul worth a copper, it will not fall, for it would think thy head something else," said the Greek, half unconscious. But seeing that the prince did not support him, he withdrew to his camp ground.
"Didst Thou really command to kill the prisoners in spite of my promise that they should have pardon?" asked the prince.
"Thou wert not in camp, worthiness," replied Mentezufis, "hence responsibility falls not on thee for that deed: while I observe our military laws, which command to destroy traitorous warriors. The man who served his holiness once and joins his enemies afterward is to be slain immediately that is the law."
"But if I had been here?"
"As supreme leader and a son of the pharaoh Thou couldst suspend the execution of certain laws which I must obey," replied Mentezufis.
"Couldst Thou not have waited till my return?"
"The law commands to kill immediately, so I carried out its provisions."
The prince was so stunned that he interrupted conversation and withdrew to his tent. There falling into a seat he said to Tutmosis,
"I am today a captive of the priests. They murder prisoners, they threaten officers, they do not even respect my duties. Did ye say nothing to Mentezufis when he commanded to kill those unfortunate prisoners?"
"He shielded himself with military laws, and new orders from Herhor."
"But it is I who am leader here, though I went out for half a day."
"Thou didst give the leadership explicitly into my hands and into those of Patrokles," answered Tutmosis. "But when the holy Mentezufis came we had to yield to him, for he is our superior."
The prince thought that the seizure of Tehenna was in every case purchased with surpassing misfortunes. At the same time he felt in all its force the significance of the maxim that a chief must never leave his army. He had to confess his error, but that irritated his pride the more and filled him with hatred for the priesthood.
"Behold," said he, "I am in captivity even before I have become the pharaoh, may his holiness live through eternity. So today I must begin to work myself out of this slavery, and first of all to be silent. Pentuer is right: I must be silent always, and put away my anger, like precious jewels into the storehouse of memory. But when it is full, ye will pay me, O prophets."
"Thou dost not inquire, worthiness, for the results of the battle," said Tutmosis.
"Aha, just that. What are they?"
"More than two thousand prisoners, more than three thousand killed, and barely a few hundred escaped."
"What, then, was the Libyan army?" asked the astonished prince.
"From six to seven thousand men."
"That cannot be. Is it possible that almost a whole army could perish in such an encounter?"
"And still it is so; that was a terrible battle," replied Tutmosis. "Thou didst surround them on all sides, the soldiers did the rest, well yes and the worthy Mentezufis. Even inscriptions on the tombs of the most famous pharaohs do not mention such a crushing of the enemies of Egypt."
"Go to sleep, Tutmosis; I am wearied," interrupted the prince, feeling that pride was beginning to rise to his head.
"Then have I won such a victory? Impossible!" thought he.
He threw himself on to the skins, but though mortally weary he could not sleep.
Only fourteen hours had passed since the moment when he had given the signal to begin the battle. Only fourteen hours? Was it possible!
Had he won such a battle? But he had not even seen a battle, nothing but a yellow dense cloud, whence unearthly shouts were poured out in torrents. Even now he sees that cloud, he hears the uproar, he feels the heat, but there is no battle.
Next he sees a boundless desert, in which he is struggling through the sand with painful effort. He and his men have the best horses in the army, and still they creep forward like turtles. And what heat! Impossible for man to support the like.
And now Typhon springs up, hides the light, burns, bites, suffocates. Pale sparks are shooting forth from Pentuer's body. Above their heads thunder rolls such thunder as he had never heard till that day. Later on, silent night in the desert. The fleeing griffin, the dark outline of the sphinx on the limestone hill.
"I have seen so much. I have passed through so much," thought Ramses. "I have been present at the building of our temples, and even at the birth of the great sphinx, which is beyond having an age now, and all this happened in the course of fourteen hours."
Now the last thought flashed before the prince: "A man who has passed through so much cannot live long."
A chill went through him from head to foot, and he fell asleep.
He woke next morning a couple of hours after sunrise. His eyes smarted, all his bones ached; he coughed a little, but his mind was clear and his heart full of courage.
Tutmosis was at the door of the tent.
"What is it?" asked the prince.
"Spies from the Libyan boundary bring strange news," said the favorite. "A great throng of people are approaching our ravine, not troops, however, but unarmed men, with children and women; at the head of them is Musawasa, and the foremost of the Libyans."
"What does this mean?"
"Evidently they wish to beg peace of thee."
"After one battle?" asked the prince, with wonder.
"But what a battle! Besides, fear increases our army in their eyes. They fear invasion and death."
"Let us see if this is a military stratagem," answered the prince, after some thought. "How are our men?"
"They are in good health, they have eaten and drunk, they have rested and are gladsome. But."
"But what?"
"Patrokles died in the night," whispered Tutmosis.
"How?" cried the prince, springing up.
"Some say that he drank too much, some that it was the punishment of the gods. His face was blue and his mouth full of foam."
"Like that captive in Atribis, Thou rememberest him? His name was Bakura; he broke into the feasting hall with complaints against the nomarch. He died that same night from drunkenness, of course. What dost Thou think?"
Tutmosis dropped his head.
"We must be very careful, my lord," whispered he.
"We shall try," answered the prince, calmly. "We will not even wonder at the death of Patrokles. For what is there surprising in this, that some drunken fellow dies who insulted the gods, nay! insulted the priests even."
Tutmosis felt a threat in these jeering words.
The prince had loved Patrokles greatly. The Greek leader had been as faithful as a dog to him. Ramses might forget many wrongs done himself, but the death of that man he would not forgive.
Before midday a fresh regiment, the Theban, arrived from Egypt at the prince's camp, and besides that some thousands of men and several hundreds of asses bringing large supplies of provisions and also tents. At the same time, from the direction of Libya, returned spies with information that the baud of unarmed people coming toward the ravine was increasing.
At command of the heir numerous small detachments of cavalry reconnoitered the neighborhood in every direction to learn if a hostile army were not hidden somewhere. Even the priests, who had brought with them a small chapel of Amon, went to the summit of the highest hill and held a religious service. Then returning to the camp, they assured Ramses that a crowd of some thousands of unarmed Libyans were approaching, but that there was no army at any point, at least none within a fifteen mile radius.
The prince laughed at the report.
"I have good sight," said he, "but I could not see an army at that distance."
The priests, after they had counseled together, informed the prince that if he would bind himself not to tell the uninitiated what he saw he would learn that it was possible to see at great distances.
Ramses took an oath. The priests placed the altar of Amon on a height, and began prayers. When the prince had washed, removed his sandals, offered to the god a gold chain and incense, they conducted him to a small box which was perfectly dark and told him to look at one wall of it.
After a while sacred hymns were intoned during which a bright circle appeared on the box. Soon the bright color grew darker; the prince saw a sandy plain, in the midst of it cliffs, and near them an Asiatic outpost.
The priests sang with more animation and the picture changed. Another patch of the desert was visible, and on it a group of people who looked no larger than ants. Still the movements and dress, and even the faces of the persons were so definite that the prince could describe them.
The astonishment of the heir knew no bounds. He rubbed his eyes, touched the moving picture. Suddenly he turned away his face; the picture vanished and darkness remained.
When he went out of the chapel the elder priest asked him,
"Well, Erpatr, dost Thou believe now in the might of the gods of Egypt?"
"Indeed," answered he, "ye are such great sages that the whole world ought to give you offerings and homage. If ye can see the future in an equal degree nothing can oppose you."
After these words a priest entered the chapel and began to pray; soon a voice was heard from the chapel, saying,
"Ramses! the fates of the kingdom are weighed, and before another full moon comes Thou wilt be its ruler."
"O gods!" cried the terrified prince. "Is my father so sick, then?"
He fell on his face in the sand; then an assisting priest inquired if he did not wish to learn something more.
"Tell me, Father Amon, whether my plans will be accomplished."
After a while a voice spoke in the chapel.
"If Thou begin no war in the east, if Thou give offerings to the gods and respect their servants, a long life awaits thee, and a reign full of glory."
After the miracles which had happened on the open field, in the open day, the excited prince returned to his tent.
"Nothing can resist the priests," thought he in fear.
He found Pentuer in the tent.
"Tell me, my counselor," said he, "whether priests can read the heart of a man and unveil his secret purpose."
Pentuer shook his head.
"Sooner," answered he, "will man see what there is in the centre of a cliff than read the heart of another man. It is even closed to the gods, and death alone can discover its secrets."
Ramses drew a deep sigh of relief, but he could not free himself from fear. When, toward evening, it was necessary to call a military council, he summoned Mentezufis and Pentuer.
No one mentioned the sudden death of Patrokles; perhaps because there was more urgent business; for Libyan envoys had come imploring in the name of Musawasa mercy for his son Tehenna, and offering to Egypt surrender and peace forever.
"Evil men," said one of the envoys, "tempted our people saying that Egypt was weak; that her pharaoh was the shadow of a ruler. But yesterday we learned how strong your arm is, and we consider it wiser to yield and pay you tribute than expose our people to certain death and our property to ruin."
When the military council had heard this speech the Libyans were sent from the tent, and Prince Ramses asked the holy Mentezufis directly for his opinions; this astonished even the generals.
"Only yesterday," said the worthy prophet, "I should have been glad to refuse the prayer of Musawasa, transfer the war to Libya, and destroy that nest of robbers. But today I have received such important news from Memphis that I will vote for mercy to the conquered."
"Is his holiness, my father, sick?" inquired the prince, with deep emotion.
"He is sick. But till we finish with the Libyans Thou must not think of his holiness."
When the heir dropped his head in sadness, Mentezufis added,
"I must perform one more duty. Yesterday, worthy prince, I made bold to offer a judgment that for such a wretched captive as Tehenna, a chief should not leave his army. Today I see that I was mistaken, for if Thou hadst not seized Tehenna we should not have this early peace with Musawasa. Thy wisdom, chief, has proved higher than military regulations."
The prince was arrested by this compunction on the part of Mentezufis.
"Why does he speak thus?" thought he. "It is evident that Amon is not alone in knowing of my holy father's illness."
And in the soul of the heir the old feelings were roused, contempt for the priests and distrust of their miracles.
"So it was not the gods who told me that I should soon become pharaoh, but the news came from Memphis, and the priests tricked me in the chapel! But if they lie in one thing, who will assure me that those views of the desert shown on the wall were not deceit also?"
Since the prince was silent all the time, which was attributed to his sorrow because of his father's illness, and the generals did not dare to say anything after the decisive words of Mentezufis, the military council ended. A unanimous decision was made to stop the war, take the very highest tribute from the Libyans, and send them an Egyptian garrison.
All expected now that the pharaoh would die. But Egypt, to celebrate a funeral worthy of its ruler, needed profound peace.
When leaving the tent of the military council the prince said to Mentezufis,
"The valiant Patrokles died last night; do ye holy fathers think to show his remains honor?"
"He was a barbarian and a great sinner," said the priest, "but he rendered such famous services to Egypt that it is proper to assure life beyond the grave to him. If Thou permit, worthiness, we will send the body of that man this day to Memphis, so as to make a mummy of it, and take it to an eternal dwelling in Thebes among the retreats of the pharaohs."
The prince consented willingly, but his suspicions rose.
"Yesterday," thought he, "Mentezufis threatened me as he might a lazy pupil, and it was even a favor of the gods that he did not beat my back with a stick; but today he speaks to me like an obedient son to a father, and almost falls on his breast before me. Is this a sign that power is drawing near my tent, and also the hour of reckoning?"
Thus thinking, the prince increased in pride, and his heart was filled with greater wrath against the priesthood. Wrath which was the worse for being silent like a scorpion which has hidden in the sand and maims the incautious foot with its biting sting.
Chapter XLVI
AT night the sentries gave notice that a throng of Libyans imploring mercy had entered the valley. Indeed the light of their fires was visible on the desert.
At sunrise the trumpets were sounded, and all the Egyptian forces were drawn up under arms on the widest part of the valley. According to command of the prince, who wished to increase the fright of the Libyans the carriers were arranged between the ranks of the army, and men on asses were disposed among the cavalry. So it happened that the Egyptians seemed as numerous as sands in the desert, and the Libyans were as timid as doves, over which a falcon is soaring.
At nine in the morning his gilded war chariot stood before the tent of the viceroy. The horses bearing ostrich plumes reared so that two men had to hold each of them.
Ramses came out of his tent, took his place in the chariot, and seized the reins himself, while the place of the charioteer was occupied by the priest Pentuer, who held now the position of counselor. One of the commanders carried a large green parasol over the prince; behind, and on both sides of the chariot, marched Greek officers in gilded armor. At a certain distance behind the prince's retinue came a small division of the guard, in the midst of it Tehenna, son of the Libyan chief Musawasa.
A few hundred paces from the Egyptians, at the entrance of the ravine, stood the gloomy crowd of Libyans imploring the conqueror's favor.
When Ramses came with his suite to the eminence where he was to receive the envoys of the enemy, the army raised such a shout in his honor that the cunning Musawasa was still more mortified, and whispered to the Libyan elders,
"I say to you, that is the cry of an army which loves its commander."
Then one of the most restless of the Libyan chiefs, a great robber, said to Musawasa,
"Dost Thou not think that in a moment like this we should be wiser to trust to the swiftness of our horses than to the kindness of the pharaoh's son? He must be a raging lion, which tears the skin even when stroking it, while we are like lambs snatched away from our mothers."
"Do as may please thee," replied Musawasa, "Thou hast the whole desert before thee. But the people sent me to redeem their faults, and above all I have a son, Tehenna, on whom the prince will pour out his wrath unless I win favor."
To the crowd of Libyans galloped up two Asiatic horsemen, who declared that their lord was waiting for submission.
Musawasa sighed bitterly and went toward the height on which the conqueror had halted. Never before had he made such a painful journey. Coarse linen used by penitents covered his back imperfectly; on his head, sprinkled with ashes, the heat of the sun was burning; sharp pebbles cut his naked feet, and his heart was crushed by his own sorrow and that of his people.
He had advanced barely a few hundred paces, but he was forced to halt a couple of times to rest and recover. He looked backward frequently to be sure that the naked slaves carrying gifts to the prince were not stealing gold chains, or what was worse, stealing jewels. For Musawasa knowing life, knew that man is glad to make use of his neighbor's misfortune.
"I thank the gods," said the cunning barbarian, comforting himself in mishap, "that the lot has come to me of humbling myself to a prince who may put on the pharaoh's cap any moment. The rulers of Egypt are magnanimous, especially in time of triumph. If I succeed then in moving my lord he will strengthen my position in Libya, and permit me to collect a multitude of taxes. It is a real miracle that the heir to the throne himself seized Tehenna; and not only will he not do him wrong, but he will cover him with dignities." Thus he thought and looked behind continually, for a slave, though naked, may conceal a stolen jewel in his mouth, and even swallow it.
At thirty steps from the chariot of the heir Musawasa and those who were with him, the foremost of the Libyans, fell upon their faces and lay on the sand till command to rise was given them through the prince's adjutant. When they had approached a few steps they fell again; later they fell a third time, and rose only at command of Ramses.
During this interval Pentuer, standing at the prince's chariot, whispered to his lord,
"Let thy countenance show neither harshness nor delight. Be calm, like the god Amon, who despises his enemies and delights in no common triumphs."
At last the penitent Libyans stood before the face of the prince, who looked at them as a fierce hippopotamus at ducklings which have no place to hide before his mightiness.
"Art Thou he?" asked Ramses, suddenly. "Art Thou that Musawasa, the wise Libyan leader?"
"I am thy servant," answered Musawasa, and he threw himself on the ground again.
When they ordered him to rise, the prince said,
"How couldst Thou commit such a grievous sin, and raise thy hand against the kingdom of the gods? Has thy former wisdom deserted thee?"
"Lord," answered the wily Libyan, "sorrow disturbed the reason of the disbanded warriors of his holiness, so they ran to their own destruction, drawing me and mine after them. And the gods alone know how long this dreadful war might have lasted if at the head of the army of the ever living pharaoh, Amon himself had not appeared in thy semblance. Thou didst fall on us like a storm wind of the desert, when Thou wert not expected, where Thou wert not expected, and as a bull breaks a reed so didst Thou crush thy blinded opponent. All people then understood that even the terrible regiments of Libya had value only while thy hand sent them forward."
"Thou speakest wisely, Musawasa," said the viceroy, "and Thou hast done still better to meet thus the army of the divine pharaoh, instead of waiting till it came to thee. But I should be glad to know how sincere thy obedience is."
"Let thy countenance be radiant, great potentate of Egypt," [An inscription on the monument of Horem-Hep, 1470 years B. c.] answered Musawasa. "We come to thee as subjects, may thy name be great in Libya, be Thou our sun, as Thou art the sun of nine nations. Only command thy subordinates to be just to us the conquered people who are joined to thy power. Let thy officials govern us justly and with conscience, and not according to their own evil wishes, reporting falsely concerning our people, and rousing thy disfavor against us and our children. Command them, O viceroy of the victorious pharaoh, to govern according to thy will, sparing our freedom, our property, our language, and the customs of our ancestors and fathers.
"Let thy laws be equal for all subjects, let not thy officials favor some too much and be too harsh toward others; let their sentences be of the same kind for all. Let them collect the tribute predestined for thy needs and for thy use, but let them not take secretly other tributes which never go into thy treasury, and enrich only thy servants and the servants of those servants.
"Command them to govern without injustice to us and our children, for Thou art to us a deity and a ruler forever. Imitate the sun, which sends his light to all and gives life and strength to them. We, thy Libyan subjects, implore thy favor and fall on our faces before thee, O heir of the great and mighty pharaoh."
So spoke the crafty Libyan prince, Musawasa, and after he had finished speaking he prostrated himself again. But when the pharaoh's heir heard these wise words his eyes glittered, and his nostrils dilated like those of a young stallion which after good feeding runs to a field where mares are at pasture.
"Rise, Musawasa, and listen to what I tell thee. Thy fate and that of thy people depend not on me, but on that gracious lord who towers above us all, as the sky above the earth. I advise thee, then, to go and to take Libyan elders hence to Memphis, and, falling on thy face before the leader and the god in this world, to repeat the humble prayer, which I have heard here from thee.
"I know not what the effect of thy prayer will be; but since the gods never turn from him who implores and is repentant, I have a feeling that Thou wilt not meet a bad reception.
"And now show me the gifts intended for his holiness, so that I may judge whether they will move the heart of the all-powerful pharaoh."
At this moment Mentezufis gave a sign to Pentuer who was standing on the prince's chariot.
When Pentuer descended and approached the holy man with honor, Mentezufis whispered,
"I fear lest the triumph may rise to the head of our young lord over much. Dost Thou not think it would be wise to interrupt the solemnity in some way?"
"On the contrary," answered Pentuer, "do not interrupt the solemnity, and I guarantee that he will not have a joyous face."
"Thou wilt perform a miracle."
"If I succeed I shall merely show him that in this world great delight is attended by deep suffering."
"Do as Thou wishest," said Mentezufis, "for the gods have given thee wisdom worthy a member of the highest council."
Trumpets and drums were heard, and the triumphal review began.
At the head of it went naked slaves bearing gifts. Rich Libyans guarded these bondmen who carried gold and silver divinities, boxes filled with perfumes, enameled vessels, stuffs, furniture, finally gold dishes dotted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The slaves who bore these had shaven heads and were gagged lest some one of them might steal a costly jewel.
Ramses rested both hands on the edge of the chariot and looked from the height of the hill at the Libyans, and at his own men, as a golden- headed eagle looks down on many colored partridges. Pride filled the prince from foot to head, and all present felt that it was impossible to have more power than was possessed by that victorious commander.
But in one instant the prince's eyes lost their brightness, and on his face the bitterest surprise was depicted. Pentuer was standing near him,
"Bend thy ear, lord," whispered he. "Since Thou hast left Pi-Bast wondrous changes have taken place there. Thy Phoenician woman, Kama, has fled with Lykon."
"With Lykon?" repeated the prince.
"Move not, Erpatr, and show not to thousands that Thou feelest sorrow in the day of thy triumph."
Now there passed below the prince an endless line of Libyans with fruit and bread in baskets, as well as wine and olive oil in roomy pitchers for the army. At sight of this a murmur of delight was spread among the warriors, but Ramses, occupied with Pentuer's story, took no note of what was passing.
"The gods," said the prophet in a whisper, "have punished the traitorous Kama."
"Is she caught?" inquired the prince.
"She is caught, but they have sent her to the eastern colony, because leprosy attacked her."
"O gods!" whispered Ramses. "But may it not threaten me?"
"Be calm, lord; if it had infected thee Thou wouldst be leprous this moment."
The prince felt a chill in every member. How easy for the gods to thrust a man down from the highest summits to the depths of the lowest misery!
"And Lykon?"
"He is a great criminal," said Pentuer; "a criminal of such kind that the earth has given few such."
"I know him. He is as like me as a reflection of me in a mirror," replied Ramses.
Now came a crowd of Libyans leading strange animals. At the head of these was a one-humped camel with white hair, one of the first which they had caught in the desert, next two rhinoceroses, a herd of horses, and a tame lion caged. Then a multitude of cages holding birds of various colors, monkeys, and small dogs intended for court ladies. Behind them were driven great herds of cattle, and flocks of sheep as food for the pharaoh's army.
The prince cast an eye on the moving menagerie, and asked the priest,
"But is Lykon caught?"
"I will tell thee now the worst news, unhappy lord," whispered Pentuer. "But remember that the enemies of Egypt must not notice grief in thee."
The heir moved.
"Thy second woman, Sarah the Jewess."
"Has she run away too?"
"She died in prison."
"O gods! Who dared imprison her?"
"She confessed that she killed thy son."
"What?"
A great cry was heard at the prince's feet: the Libyan prisoners captured in battle were marching past, and at the head of them the sorrowful Tehenna.
Ramses had at that moment a heart so full of pain that he nodded to Tehenna, and said,
"Stand near thy father Musawasa, so that he may touch thee, and see thee living."
At these words all the Libyans and the whole army gave forth a mighty shout; but the prince did not hear it.
"Is my son dead?" asked he of the priest. "Sarah accused herself of child-murder? Did madness fall on her?"
"The vile Lykon slew thy son."
"O gods give me strength!" groaned Ramses.
"Restrain thyself, lord, as becomes a victorious leader."
"Is it possible to conquer such pain? O gods without pity!"
"Lykon slew thy son; Sarah accused herself to save thee, for seeing the murderer in the night she mistook him for thee."
"And I thrust her out of my house! And I made her a servant of the Phoenician!"
Now appeared Egyptian warriors bearing baskets filled with hands which had been cut from the fallen Libyans.
At sight of this Ramses hid his face and wept bitterly.
The generals surrounded the chariot at once and gave their lord consolation. The holy Mentezufis made a proposition which was received immediately, that thenceforth the Egyptian army would not cut off the hands of enemies who had fallen in battle.
With this unforeseen incident ended the first triumph of the heir to the throne of Egypt. But the tears which he shed over the severed hands attached the Libyans to him more than the victorious battle. No one wondered then that around the fires Libyan and Egyptian warriors sat in concord sharing bread, and drinking wine from the same goblet. Instead of wars which were to last for years, there was a deep feeling of peace and confidence.
Ramses gave command that Musawasa, Tehenna, and the foremost Libyans should go to Memphis straightway, and he gave them an escort, not so much to watch them as to safeguard their persons and the treasures which they were taking. The prince withdrew to a tent then, and did not appear again until a number of hours had passed. He was like a man to whom pain is the dearest companion. He did not receive even Tutmosis.
Toward evening a deputation of Greeks appeared under the leadership of Kalippos. When the heir asked what their wish was Kalippos answered,
"We have come, lord, to implore that the body of our leader, thy servant Patrokles, should not be given to Egyptian priests, but be burned in accord with Greek usage."
The prince was astonished.
"Is it known to you," asked he, "that the priests wish to make of the remains of Patrokles a mummy of the first order, and to put it near the graves of the pharaohs? Can honor greater than this meet a man anywhere?"
The Greeks hesitated; at last Kalippos took courage and answered,
"Our lord, permit us to open our hearts to thee. We know well that the making of a mummy is of more profit to a man than to burn him, for the soul of a burned man is transferred to eternal regions immediately; the soul of a mummied man may live during thousands of years on this earth and enjoy its beauties.
"But the Egyptian priests, O chief, let this not offend thy ears hated Patrokles. Who will assure us, then, that these priests in making him a mummy are not detaining him on earth so as to subject him to tortures? And what would our worth be if we who suspect revenge did not protect from it the soul of our compatriot and leader?"
Great was the prince's astonishment.
"Do," said he, "as ye think proper."
"But if they will not give us the body?"
"Prepare the funeral pile; I will attend to the rest of the ceremony."
The Greeks left the tent. The prince sent for Mentezufis.
Chapter XLVII
THE priest observed the heir stealthily, and found him much changed. Ramses was pale; he had almost grown thin in a few hours; his eyes had lost their glitter and had sunk beneath his forehead.
When Mentezufis heard what the Greeks had in mind he did not hesitate a moment to surrender the body of Patrokles.
"The Greeks are right," said the holy man, "in thinking that we have power to torment the shade of Patrokles, but they are fools to suppose that any priest of Chaldea or Egypt would permit such a crime. Let them take the body of their compatriot, if they think that after death he will be happier under protection of their own rites."
The prince sent an officer straightway with the needful order, but he detained Mentezufis. Evidently he wished to say something to him, though he hesitated.
After some silence Ramses asked suddenly,
"Thou knowest, of course, holy prophet, that one of my women, Sarah, is dead, and that her son was murdered?"
"That happened," said Mentezufis, "the night that we marched from Pi- Bast."
The prince sprang up.
"By the eternal Amon!" cried he. "Did that take place so long ago, and ye did not mention it? Ye did not even tell me that I was suspected of murdering my own son?"
"Lord," said the priest, "the leader of an army in the day before battle has neither son nor father; he has no one whatever save the army and the enemy. Could we in extreme moments disturb thee with such tidings?"
"That is true," replied the prince, after some thought. "If we were attacked today I am not sure that I could command the army. In general I am not sure of my power to regain peace of mind.
"Such a little such a beautiful child! And that woman who sacrificed herself for me after I had wronged her grievously. Never have I thought that misfortunes of such sort could happen, and that people's hearts could endure them."
"Time heals time and prayer," whispered the priest.
The prince nodded, and again there was such silence in the tent that the dropping of sand in the hour glass was audible.
Again the heir rallied,
"Tell me, holy father," said he, "unless it belongs to the great secrets, what is the real difference between burning the dead and the making of mummies? for though I have heard something at school I do not understand clearly this question, to which the Greeks attach such importance."
"We attach far more, the greatest importance to this question," replied Mentezufis. "To this our cities of the dead testify; they occupy a whole region in the western desert. The pyramids testify to it also; they are the tombs of the pharaohs of the ancient kingdom, and the immense tombs which are cut in cliffs for the rulers of our period.
"Burial and the tomb are of great importance the very greatest human importance. For while we live in bodily form fifty or a hundred years, our shades endure tens of thousands till they are perfectly purified.
"The Assyrian barbarians laugh at us, saying that we give more to the dead than the living; but they would weep over their own lack of care for the dead did they know the mystery of death and the tomb as do the priests of Egypt."
The prince started up.
"Thou dost terrify me," said he. "Dost forget that among the dead there are two beings dear to me, and these are not buried according to Egyptian ritual."
"On the contrary. Just now men are embalming them. Both Sarah and thy son will have everything which may profit them in the long journey."
"Will they?" asked Ramses, as if comforted.
"I guarantee," answered Mentezufis, "that everything will be done which is needed, and should this earthly life ever be unpleasant to thee Thou wilt find them happy in the other."
On hearing this Ramses was greatly affected.
"Then dost Thou think, holy man," inquired he, "that I shall find my son some time, and that I shall be able to say to that woman: 'Sarah, I know that I have been too harsh to thee?'"
"I am as certain of it as that I see thee now, worthy lord," replied the prophet.
"Speak, speak of this!" exclaimed the prince. "A man does not think of the grave till he has put a part of himself there. This misfortune has struck me, and struck just when I thought myself more powerful than any save the pharaoh."
"Thou hast inquired, lord," began Mentezufis, "as to the difference between burning the dead and embalming them. We find the same difference that there is between destroying a garment and preserving it in a closet. When the garment is preserved it may be of use frequently; and if a man has only one garment it would be madness to burn it."
"I do not understand this," interrupted Ramses. "Ye do not explain it even in the higher schools."
"But we can tell it to the heir of the pharaoh. Thou knowest, worthiness," continued the priest, "that a human being is composed of three parts: the body, the divine spark, and the shade, or Ka, which connects the body and the divine spark.
"When a man dies his shade separates from his body as does the divine spark. If the man lives without sin the divine spark and the shade appear among the gods to live through eternity. But each man sins, stains himself in this world; therefore his shade, the Ka, must purify itself, for thousands of years sometimes. It purifies itself in this way, that being invisible it wanders over our earth among people and does good in its wandering, though the shades of criminals, even in life beyond the grave, commit offences, and at last destroy themselves and the divine spark contained in them.
"Now and this is no secret for thee, worthiness this shade, the Ka, is like a man, but looks as though made of most delicate mist. The shade has a head, hands, body, it can walk, speak, throw things or carry them, it dresses like a man, and even, especially during a few hundred of the earlier years after death, must take some food at intervals. But the shade obtains its main strength from the body which remains on the earth here. Therefore if we throw a body into a grave it spoils quickly and the shade must satisfy itself with dust and decay. If we burn the body the shade has nothing but ashes with which to gain strength. But if we embalm the body, or preserve it for thousands of years the shade Ka is always healthy and strong; it passes the time of purification in calmness, and even agreeably."
"Wonderful things!" whispered the heir.
"Priests in the course of investigations during thousands of years have learned important details of life beyond the grave. They have convinced themselves that if the viscera are left in the body of a dead man, his shade, the Ka, has a great appetite, and needs as much food as a man during earthly existence, and if food is withheld it will rush at living people and suck the blood out of them. But if the viscera are removed from the body, as we remove them, the shade lives on without food almost: its own body, embalmed and filled with plants which are strongly fragrant, suffices it for millions of years.
"It has been verified, also, that if the tomb of a dead man is empty the shade yearns for the world and wanders about in it needlessly. But if we place in a mortuary chapel the clothing, furniture, arms, vessels, utensils, things pleasant during life to the dead man, if the walls are covered with paintings depicting feasts, hunts, divine services, wars, and, in general, events in which the departed took share, if besides we add statues of members of his family, servants, horses, dogs and cattle, the shade will not go out to the world without need, for it will find what it wants in the house of the dead with its mummy.
"Finally they have convinced themselves that many shades, even after penance is finished, could not enter regions of endless bliss since they know not the needful prayers, incantations, and conversations with gods. We provide for that by winding the mummies in papyruses, on which are written sentences, and by putting the 'Book of the Dead' in their coffins.
"In one word, our funeral ritual assures strength to the shade, preserves it from misfortunes and yearnings after earth, facilitates its entrance to the company of gods, and secures living people from every harm which shades might inflict on them. Our great care of the dead has this in view specially; hence we erect for them almost palaces and in them dwellings with the greatest ornaments."
The prince thought awhile, but said finally,
"I understand that ye show great kindness to weak and defenseless shades by caring for them in this manner. But who will assure me that there are shades?"
"That there is a waterless desert," said the priest, "I know, for I see it, I have sunk in its sands and felt heat in it. That there are countries in which water turns to stone, and steam into white down, I know also, for credible witnesses have informed me."
"But how do ye know of shades which no man has seen, and how do ye know of their life after death since no one of them has ever returned to us?"
"Thou art mistaken, worthiness," replied the priest. "Shades have shown themselves more than once, and even revealed their own secrets.
"It is possible to live ten years in Thebes and not see rain: it is possible to live a hundred years on earth and not meet a shade. But whoso should live hundreds of years in Thebes, or live thousands of years on earth would see more than one rain, and more than one shade."
"Who has lived thousands of years?" inquired Ramses.
"The sacred order of priests has lived, is living, and will live," replied Mentezufis. "The sacred order of priests settled on the Nile thirty thousand years ago. Since then it has scrutinized the heavens and the earth; it has created our wisdom, and made the plan of every field, sluice, canal, pyramid, and temple in Egypt."
"That is true. The order of priests is mighty and wise, but where are the shades? What man has seen them, and who is the person who has spoken to them?"
"Know this, lord," said Mentezufis. "There is a shade in each living man; as there are people distinguished for immense strength, or a marvelous swiftness of vision, so there are men who possess the uncommon gift that during life they can separate their own shades from their bodies.
"Our secret books are filled with the most credible narratives touching this subject. More than one prophet has been able to fall into a sleep that is deathlike. At that time his shade separated from the body and transferred itself in a moment to Tyre, Babylon, or Nineveh, examined what it wished, listened to counsels relating to us, and after the awakening of the prophet gave the most minute account of all that it had witnessed. More than one evil magician, after falling asleep in like fashion, has sent out his shade against a man whom he hated, and overturned or destroyed furniture and terrified a whole household.
"It has happened, too, that the man attacked by the shade of the magician struck the shade with a spear or a sword, and on his house bloody traces were left, while the magician received on his body that wound exactly which was inflicted on his shade.
"More than once also has a shade of a living man appeared in company with him, but some steps distant."
"I know such shades," said the prince ironically.
"I must add," continued Mentezufis, "that not only people, but animals, plants, stones, buildings, and utensils have shades also. But a wonderful thing the shade of an inanimate object is not dead, it possesses life, moves, goes from place to place, it even thinks and expresses thought through various signs, most frequently through knocking.
"When a man dies his shade lives and shows itself to people. In our books thousands of such cases are noted; some shades asked for food, others walked about in houses, worked in a garden, or hunted in the mountains with the shades of their dogs and cats with them. Other shades have frightened people, destroyed their property, drunk their blood, even enticed living persons to excesses. But there are good shades: those of mothers nursing their children, of soldiers, fallen in battle, who give warning of an ambush of an enemy, of priests who reveal important secrets.
"In the eighteenth dynasty the shade of the pharaoh, Cheops, who was doing penance for oppressing people while building the great pyramid, appeared in Nubian gold mines, and in compassion for the sufferings of toiling convicts showed them a new spring of water."
"Thou tellest curious things, holy man," replied Ramses; "let me now tell thee something. One night in Pi-Bast my own shade appeared to me. That shade was just like me, and even dressed like me. Soon, however, I convinced myself that it was no shade. It was a living man, a certain Lykon, the vile murderer of my son. He began his offences by frightening the Phoenician woman Kama. I appointed a reward for seizing him but our police not only did not seize the man, they even permitted him to seize that same Kama and to slay a harmless infant.
"Today I hear that they have captured Kama, but I know nothing of Lykon. Of course he is living in freedom, in good health, cheerful and rich through stolen treasures; may be making ready for new crimes even."
"So many persons are pursuing that criminal that he must be taken at last," said Mentezufis. "And if he falls into our hands Egypt will pay him for the sufferings which he has caused the heir to her throne. Believe me, lord, Thou mayst forgive all his crimes in advance, for the punishment will be in accord with their greatness."
"I should prefer to have him in my own hands," said the prince. "It is always dangerous to have such a 'shade' while one is living." [It is curious that the theory of shades, on which very likely the uncommon care of the Egyptians for the dead was built, has revived in our times in Europe. Adolf d'Assier explains it minutely in a pamphlet "Essai sur l'humanite posthume et le spiritisme, par un positiviste." ]
Not greatly pleased by this end of his explanation, the holy Mentezufis took leave of the viceroy. After the priest had gone, Tutmosis entered.
"The Greeks are raising the pile for their chief," said he, "and a number of Libyan women have agreed to wail at the funeral ceremony."
"We shall be present," answered Ramses. "Dost Thou know that my son is killed? such a little child. When I carried him he laughed and held out his little hands to me. What wickedness may be in the human heart is beyond comprehension. If that vile Lykon had attempted my life I could understand, even forgive him. But to slay a little child."
"But have they told thee of Sarah's devotion?" inquired Tutmosis.
"She was, as I think, the most faithful of women, and I did not treat her justly. But how is it," cried the prince, striking his fist on the table, "that they have not seized that wretch Lykon to this moment? The Phoenicians swore to me, and I promised a reward to the chief of police. There must be some secret in this matter."
Tutmosis approached the prince, and whispered,
"A messenger from Hiram has been with me. Hiram, fearing the anger of the priests, is hiding before he leaves Egypt. Hiram has heard, from the chief of police in PiBast perhaps, that Lykon was captured But quiet!" added the frightened Tutmosis.
The prince fell into anger for a moment, but soon mastered himself.
"Captured?" repeated he. "Why should that be a secret?"
"It is, for the chief of police had to yield him up to the holy Mefres at his command in the name of the supreme council."
"Aha! aha!" repeated the heir. "So the revered Mefres and the supreme council need a man who resembles me so much? Aha! They are to give my son and Sarah a beautiful funeral, and embalm their remains. But the murderer they will secrete safely. Aha!
"And the holy Mentezufis is a great sage. He told me today all the secrets of life beyond the grave; he explained to me the whole funeral ritual, as if I were a priest at least of the third degree. But touching the seizure of Lykon, the hiding of that murderer by Mefres, not a word! Evidently the holy fathers are more occupied by minute secrets of the heir to the throne than with the great secrets of future existence. Aha!"
"It seems to me, lord, that Thou shouldst not wonder at that," interrupted Tutmosis. "Thou knowest that the priests suspect thee of ill-will, and are on their guard. All the more."
"What, all the more?"
"Since his holiness is very ill. Very."
"Aha! my father is ill, and I meanwhile at the head of the army must watch the desert lest the sand should run out of it. It is well that Thou hast reminded me of this! Yes, his holiness must be very ill, since the priests are so tender toward me. They show me everything and speak of everything, except this, that Mefres has secreted Lykon."
"Tutmosis," said the prince on a sudden, "dost Thou think today that I can reckon on the army?"
"We will go to death, only give the order."
"And dost Thou reckon on the nobles?"
"As on the army."
"That is well. Now we may render the rites to Patrokles."
Chapter XLVIII
In the course of those few months, during which Prince Ramses had fulfilled the duties of viceroy of Lower Egypt, his holiness the pharaoh had failed in health continually. The moment was approaching in which the lord of eternity, who roused delight in human hearts, the sovereign of Egypt, and of all lands on which the sun shone, had to occupy a place at the side of his revered ancestors in the Libyan catacombs which lie on the other side of the city Teb.
Not over advanced in age was this potentate, the equal of the gods, he who gave life to his subjects, and had power to take from husbands their wives whenever his heart so desired. But thirty and some years of rule had so wearied him that he wished, of his own accord, to rest and regain youth and beauty in that kingdom of the west, where each pharaoh reigns without care through eternity over people who are so happy that no man of them has ever wished to return to this earth from that region.
Half a year earlier the holy lord had exercised every activity connected with his office, on which rested the safety and prosperity of all visible existence.
Barely had the cocks crowed in the morning when the priests roused the sovereign with a hymn in honor of the rising sun. The pharaoh rose from his bed and bathed in a gilded basin containing water fragrant with roses. Then his divine body was rubbed with priceless perfumes amid the murmur of prayers, which had the power of expelling evil spirits.
Thus purified and incensed by prophets, the lord went to a chapel, removed a clay seal from the door and entered the sanctuary unattended, where on a couch of ivory lay the miraculous image of Osiris. This image bad the wondrous quality that every night the hands, feet and head fall from it. These on a time had been cutoff by the evil god Set; but after the prayer of the pharaoh all the members grew on without evident reason.
When his holiness convinced himself that Osiris was sound again he took the statue from the couch, bathed it, dressed it in precious garments, and putting it on a malachite throne burnt incense before it. This ceremony was vastly important, for if any morning the divine members would not grow together it would signify that Egypt, if not the whole world, was threatened by measureless misfortune.
After the resurrection and restoration of the god, his holiness opened the door of the chapel, so that through it blessings might flow forth to the country. Then he designated the priests, who all that day were to guard the sanctuary, not so much against the ill-will, as the frivolity of people. For more than once it happened that a careless mortal who had gone too near that most holy place received an invisible blow which deprived him of consciousness or of life, even.
After he had finished divine service, the lord went, surrounded by chanting priests to a great hall of refection, where stood a small table and an armchair for him and nineteen other tables before nineteen statues which represented the nineteen preceding dynasties. When the sovereign had seated himself youths and maidens came in with silver plates, on which were meat and cakes, also pitchers of wine. The priest, the inspector of the dishes, tasted what was on the first dish, and what was in the first pitcher, then, on his knees, he gave these to the pharaoh, but the other plates and pitchers were placed before the statues of the pharaoh's ancestors. When the sovereign had satisfied his hunger and left the hall princes or priests had the right to eat food intended for the ancestors.
From the hall of refection the lord betook himself to the grand hall of audience. There the highest dignitaries of state, and the nearest members of the family prostrated themselves before him, after that the minister, Herhor; the chief treasurer, the supreme judge, and the supreme chief of police made reports to him. The reading was varied by religious music and dancing, during which wreaths and flowers were cast on the throne of the pharaoh.
After the audience his holiness betook himself to a side chamber and reposing on a couch slumbered lightly for a time; then he offered wine and incense to the gods, and narrated to the priests his dreams, from which those sages made the final disposition in affairs which his holiness was to settle.
But sometimes, when there were no dreams, or when the interpretation of them seemed inappropriate to the pharaoh, his holiness smiled and commanded kindly to act in this way or that in given cases. This command was law which no one might change except in the execution perhaps of details.
In hours after dinner his holiness, borne in a litter, showed himself in the court to his faithful guard, and then he ascended to the roof and looked toward the four quarters of the earth, to impart to them his blessing. At that moment on the summits of pylons banners appeared, and mighty sounds came from trumpets. Whoso heard these sounds in the city or the country, an Egyptian or a stranger, fell on his face so that a portion of supreme grace might descend on him.
At that moment it was not permitted to strike man, or beast: a stick raised over a man's back dropped of itself. If a criminal sentenced to death, declared that the sentence was read to him at the time when the lord of earth and heaven had appeared, his punishment was lessened. For before the pharaoh went might, and behind him followed mercy.
When he had made his people happy, the ruler of all things beneath the sun entered his gardens among palms and sycamores, there he sat a longer time than elsewhere, receiving homage from his women and looking at the amusements of the children of his household. When one of them arrested his attention by beauty or adroitness he called it up, and made inquiry,
"Who art thou, my little child?"
"I am Prince Binotris, the son of his holiness," answered the little boy.
"And what is thy mother's name?"
"My mother is the lady Ameses, a woman of his holiness."
"What dost Thou know?"
"I know how to count to ten and to write: 'May he live through eternity our god and father, his holiness the pharaoh Ramses!"
The lord of eternity smiled benignly and touched with his delicate, almost transparent, hand the curly head of the sprightly little boy. Then the child became a prince really, though the smile of his holiness was ever enigmatical. But whoso had been touched by the divine hand was not to know misfortune in life and had to be raised above others.
The sovereign dined in another hall of refection and shared his meal with the gods of all the divisions of Egypt, gods whose statues were ranged along the walls there. Whatever the gods did not eat went to the priests and higher court dignitaries.
Toward evening his holiness received a visit from Lady Niort's, the mother to the heir to the throne of Egypt; looked at religious dances and heard a concert. After that he went again to the bath and, thus purified, entered the chapel of Osiris to undress and lay to sleep the marvelous divinity. When he had finished this he closed and sealed the chapel door and then, surrounded by a procession of priests, the pharaoh went to his bed-chamber.
In an adjoining apartment the priests offered up, till the following sunrise, silent prayers to the soul of the pharaoh, which found itself among gods during the sleep of the sovereign. They laid before it their prayers for a favorable transaction of current state business, for guardianship over the boundaries of Egypt, and over the tombs of the pharaohs, so that no thief might dare to enter in and disturb the endless rest of those potentates. But the prayers of the priests, because of night weariness, surely, were not always effectual, for state difficulties increased, and sacred tombs were robbed, not only of costly objects, but even of the mummies of sovereigns.
This was because various foreigners had settled in the country and unbelievers from whom the people learned to disregard the gods of Egypt and the most sacred places.
The repose of the lord of lords was interrupted exactly at midnight. At that hour the astrologers roused his holiness and informed him in what mansion the moon was, what planets were shining above the horizon, what constellations were passing the meridian and whether in general something peculiar had taken place in heavenly regions. For sometimes clouds appeared or stars fell in greater number than usual, or a fiery ball flew over Egypt.
The lord listened to the report of the astrologers. In case of any unusual phenomenon he pacified them concerning the safety of the world, and commanded to write down all observations on appropriate tablets, which were sent every month to priests of the temple of the Sphinx, the greatest sages in Egypt. Those men drew conclusions from those tablets, but the most important they declared to no one, unless to their colleagues the Chaldean priests in Babylon.
After midnight his holiness might sleep till the morning cockcrow if he thought proper.
Such a pious and laborious life had been led, not more than half a year ago, by this kind, divine person, the distributor of protection, life, and health, who watched day and night over the earth and the sky, over the world both visible and invisible. But for the last half year his eternally living soul had begun to be more and more wearied with earthly questions, and with its bodily envelope. There were long days when he ate nothing, and nights during which he had no sleep whatever. Sometimes during an audience, there appeared on his mild face an expression of deep pain, while oftener and oftener, he fainted.
The terrified Queen Niort's, the most worthy Herhor and the priests, asked the sovereign repeatedly whether anything pained him. But the lord shrugged his shoulders, and was silent, fulfilling always his burdensome duties.
Then the court physicians began imperceptibly to give the most powerful remedies to restore strength to him. They mixed in his wine and food at first the ashes of a burnt horse and a bull; later of a lion, a rhinoceros, and an elephant; but these strong remedies seemed to have no effect whatever. His holiness fainted so frequently that they ceased to read reports to him.
On a certain day the worthy Herhor with the queen and the priests, fell on their faces; they implored the lord to permit them to examine his divine body. He consented. The physicians examined and struck him, but found no worse sign than great emaciation.
"What feelings dost Thou experience, holiness?" inquired at last the wisest physician.
The pharaoh smiled.
"I feel," replied he, "that it is time for me to return to my radiant father."
"Thou canst not do that, holiness, without the greatest harm to thy people," said Herhor, hurriedly.
"I leave you my son, Ramses, who is a lion and an eagle in one person. And in truth, if ye will obey him, he will prepare for Egypt such a fate as the world has not heard of since the beginning of ages."
A chill passed through holy Herhor and the other priests at that promise. They knew that the heir to the throne was a lion and an eagle in one person, and that they must obey him. But they would have preferred to have for long years that kindly lord, whose heart, filled with compassion, was like the north wind which brings rain to the fields and coolness to mankind. Therefore they fell down all of them as one man to the pavement, groaning, and they lay prostrate till the pharaoh consented to let himself be treated.
Then the physicians took him out for a whole day to the gardens, among frequent pine-trees, they nourished him with chopped meat; they gave him strong herbs with milk and old wine. These effective means strengthened his holiness for something like a week yet; then a new faintness announced itself, and to overcome that they forced their lord to drink the fresh blood of calves descended from Apes.
But neither did this blood help for a long time, and they found it needful to turn for advice to the high priest of the temple of the wicked god Set.
Amid general fear, the gloomy priest entered the bedchamber of his holiness. He looked at the sick pharaoh and prescribed a dreadful remedy.
"It is needful," said he, "to give the pharaoh blood of innocent children to drink; each day a full goblet."
The priests and magnates in the chamber were dumb when they heard this prescription. Then they whispered that the children of earth-tillers were best for the purpose, since the children of priests and great lords lost their innocence even in infancy.
"It is all one to me whose children they are," said the cruel priest, "if only his holiness has fresh blood given him daily."
The pharaoh, lying on the bed with closed eyes, heard that gory counsel, and the whispers of the frightened courtiers. And when one of the physicians asked Herhor timidly if it were possible to take measures to seek proper children, Ramses XII recovered. He fixed his wise eyes on those present,
"The crocodile will not devour its own little ones," said he, "a jackal or a hyena will give its life for its whelps, and am I to drink the blood of Egyptian infants, who are my children? Indeed, I never could have believed that anyone would dare to prescribe means so unworthy."
The priest of the evil god fell to the pavement, and explained that in Egypt no one had ever drunk the blood of infants but that the infernal powers returned health by it. Such means at least were used in Phoenicia and Assyria.
"Shame on thee!" replied the pharaoh, "for mentioning in the palace of Egyptian sovereigns disgusting subjects. Knowest Thou not that Phoenicians and Assyrians are barbarous? But among us the most unenlightened earth-tiller would not believe that blood, shed without cause, could be of service to any one."
Thus spoke he who was equal to immortals. The courtiers covered their faces, spotted now with shame, and the high priest of Set went silently out of the chamber.
Then Herhor, to save the quenching life of the sovereign, had recourse to the last means, and told the pharaoh that in one of the Theban temples, Beroes, the Chaldean, lived in secret. He was the wisest priest of Babylon a miracle worker without equal.
"For thee, holiness," said Herhor, "that sage is a stranger, and he has not the right to impart such important advice to the lord of Egypt. But, O Pharaoh, permit him to look at thee. I am sure that he will find a medicine to cure thy illness, and in no case will he offend thee by impious expressions."
The pharaoh yielded this time also to persuasions from his faithful servitors. And in two days Beroes, summoned in some mysterious way, was sailing down toward Memphis.
The wise Chaldean, even without examining the pharaoh minutely, gave this counsel,
"We must find a person in Egypt whose prayers reach the throne of the Highest. And if this person prays sincerely for the pharaoh, the sovereign will receive his health and live for long years in strength again."
On hearing these words the pharaoh looked at the priests surrounding him, and said,
"I see here holy men in such numbers that, if one of them thinks of me, I shall be in health again." And he smiled imperceptibly.
"We are all only men," interrupted Beroes; "hence our souls cannot always rise to the footstool of Him who existed before the ages. But, holiness, I will use an infallible method by which to find a man whose prayers have the utmost sincerity, and the highest effect."
"Discover him, so that he may be a friend to me in my last hour of life," said the pharaoh.
After this favorable answer the Chaldean desired a room with a single door, and unoccupied. And that same day, one hour before sunset, he asked that his holiness be borne into that chamber.
At the appointed hour four of the highest priests dressed the pharaoh in a robe of new linen, pronounced a great prayer above him, this prayer expelled every evil power absolutely, and seating him in a litter they bore him to that simple chamber where there was but one small table.
Beroes was there already, and, looking toward the east, was praying.
When the priests had left the chamber the Chaldean closed the heavy door, put a purple scarf on his arm and placed a glass globe of black color on the table before the pharaoh. In his left hand he held a sharp dagger of Babylonian steel, in his right a staff covered with mysterious signs, and with that staff he described in the air a circle about himself and the pharaoh. Then facing in turn the four quarters of the world, he whispered,
"Amorul, Taneha, Latisten, Rabur, Adonay have pity on me and purify me, O heavenly Father, the compassionate and gracious. Pour down on thy unworthy servant thy sacred blessing, and extend thy almighty arm against stubborn and rebellious spirits, so that I may consider thy sacred work calmly."
He stopped and turned to the pharaoh,
"Mer-Amen-Ramses, high priest of Amon, dost Thou distinguish a spark in that black globe?"
"I see a white spark which seems to move like a bee above a flower."
"Mer-Amen-Ramses, look at that spark and take not thy eyes from it. Look neither to the right nor the left, look not on anything whatever which may come from the sides."
And again he whispered,
"Baralanensis, Baldachiensis, by the mighty princes Genio, Lachidae, the ministers of the infernal kingdom, I summon you, I call you through the strength of Supreme Majesty, by which I am gifted, I adjure, I command!"
At that place the pharaoh started up with aversion.
"Mer-Amen-Ramses, what seest thou?" asked the Chaldean.
"From beyond the globe rises some horrid head reddish hair is standing on end; a face of greenish hue; the eye looking down so that only the white of it is visible; the mouth open widely, as if to shriek."
"That is Terror!" cried Beroes, and he held his sharp dagger point above the globe.
Suddenly the pharaoh bent to the earth.
"Enough!" cried he, "why torment me thus? The wearied body seeks rest, the soul longs to be in the region of endless light. But not only will ye not let me die; ye are inventing new torments. Oh, I wish not."
"What dost Thou see?"
"From the ceiling every instant two spider legs lower themselves they are terrible. As thick as palm trunks; shaggy with hooks at the ends of them. I feel that above my head is a spider of immense size, and he is binding me with a web of ship ropes."
Beroes turned his dagger point upward.
"Mer-Amen-Ramses," said he again, "look ever at the spark, and never at the sides. Here is a sign which I raise in thy presence," whispered he. "Here am I mightily armed with Divine aid, I, foreseeing and unterrified, who summon you with exorcisms Aye, Saraye, Aye, Saraye, Aye, Saraye in the name of the all-powerful, the all-mighty and everlasting divinity."
At that moment a calm smile appeared on the lips of the pharaoh.
"It seems to me," said he, "that I behold Egypt all Egypt. Yes! that is the Nile the desert. Here is Memphis, there Thebes."
Indeed he saw Egypt, all Egypt, but no larger than the path which extended through the garden of his palace. The wonderful picture had this trait, that when the Pharaoh turned more deliberate attention to any point of it, that point with its environments grew to be of real size almost.
The sun was going down, covering the earth with golden and purple light. Birds of the daytime were settling to sleep, the night birds were waking up in their concealments. In the desert hyenas and jackals were yawning, and the slumbering lion had begun to stretch his strong body and prepare to hunt victims.
The Nile fisherman drew forth his nets hastily, men were tying up at the shores the great transport barges. The wearied earth-worker removed from the sweep his bucket with which he had drawn water since sunrise; another returned slowly with the plough to his mud hovel. In cities they were lighting lamps, in the temples priests were assembling for evening devotions. On the highways the dust was settling down and the squeak of carts was growing silent. From the pylon summits shrill voices were heard calling people to prayer.
A moment later, the pharaoh saw with astonishment flocks of silvery birds over the earth everywhere. They were flying up out of palaces, temples streets, workshops, Nile barges, country huts, even from the quarries. At first each of them shot upward like an arrow, but soon it met in the sky another silvery feathered bird, which stopped its way, striking it with all force and both fell to the earth lifeless.
Those were the unworthy prayers of men, which prevented each other from reaching the throne of Him who existed before the ages.
The pharaoh strained his hearing. At first only the rustle of wings reached him, but soon he distinguished words also.
And now he heard a sick man praying for the return of his health, and also the physician, who begged that that same patient might be sick as long as possible. The landowner prayed Amon to watch over his granary and cow-house, the thief stretched his hands heavenward so that he might lead forth another man's cow without hindrance, and fill his own bags from another man's harvest.
Their prayers knocked each other down like stones which had been hurled from slings and had met in the air.
The wanderer in the desert fell on the sand and begged for a north wind, to bring a drop of rain to him, the sailor on the sea beat the deck with his forehead and prayed that wind might blow from the east a week longer. The earth-worker wished that swamps might dry up quickly after inundation; the needy fisherman begged that the swamps might not dry up at any time.
Their prayers killed each other and never reached the divine ears of Amon.
The greatest uproar reigned above the quarries where criminals, lashed together in chain gangs, split enormous rocks with wedges, wetted with water. There a party of day convicts prayed for the night, so that they might lie down to slumber; while parties of night toilers, roused by their overseers, beat their breasts, asking that the sun might not set at any hour. Merchants who purchased quarried and dressed stones prayed that there might be as many criminals in the quarries as possible, while provision contractors lay on their stomachs, sighing for the plague to kill laborers, and make their own profits as large as they might be.
So the prayers of men from the quarries did not reach the sky in any case.
On the western boundary the pharaoh saw two armies preparing for battle. Both were prostrate on the sand, calling on Amon to rub out the other side. The Libyans wished shame and death to Egyptians; the Egyptians hurled curses on the Libyans.
The prayers of these and of those, like two flocks of falcons, fought above the earth and fell dead in the desert. Amon did not even see them.
And whithersoever the pharaoh turned his wearied glance he saw the same picture everywhere. The laborers were praying for rest and decrease of taxes, scribes were praying that taxes might increase and work never be finished. The priests implored Amon for long life to Ramses XII and death to Phoenicians, who interfered with their interests; the nomarchs implored the gods to preserve the Phoenicians and let Ramses XIII ascend the throne at the earliest, for he would curb priestly tyranny. Lions, jackals, and hyenas were panting with hunger and desire for fresh blood; deer and rabbits slipped out of hiding-places, thinking to preserve wretched life a day longer, though experience declared that numbers of them must perish, even on that night, so that beasts of prey might not famish. So throughout the whole world reigned cross-purposes everywhere. Each wished that which filled others with terror; each begged for his own good, without asking if he did harm to the next man.
For this cause their prayers, though like silvery birds flying heavenward, did not reach their destination. And the divine Amon, to whom no voice of the earth came at any time, dropped his hands on his knees, and sank ever deeper in meditation over his own divinity, while on the earth blind force and chance ruled without interruption.
All at once the pharaoh heard the voice of a woman, "Rogue! Little rogue! come in, Thou unruly, it is time for prayers."
"This minute! this minute!" answered the voice of the little child.
The sovereign looked toward the point whence the voice came and saw the poor hut of a cattle scribe. The hut owner had finished his register in the light of the setting sun, his wife was grinding flour for a cake, and before the house, like a young kid, was running and jumping the six-year-old little boy, laughing, it was unknown for what reason.
The evening air full of sweetness had given him delight, that was evident.
"Rogue! Little rogue! come here to me for a prayer," repeated the woman.
"This minute! this minute!"
And again he ran with delight as if wild.
At last the mother, seeing that the sun was beginning to sink in the sands of the desert, put away her mill stones, and, going out, seized the boy, who raced around like a little colt. He resisted but gave way to superior force finally. The mother, drawing him to the hut as quickly as possible, held him with her hand so that he might not escape from her.
"Do not twist," said she, "put thy feet under thee, sit upright, put thy hands together and raise them upward. Ah, Thou bad boy!"
The boy knew that he could not escape now; so to be free again as soon as possible he raised his eyes and hands heavenward piously, and with a thin squeaky voice, he said,
"O kind, divine Amon, I thank thee, Thou hast kept my papa today from misfortune, Thou hast given wheat for cakes to my mamma. What more? Thou hast made heaven. I thank thee. And the earth, and sent down the Nile which brings bread to us. And what more? Aha, I know now! And I thank thee because out-of-doors it is so beautiful, and flowers are growing there, and birds singing and the palms give us sweet dates. For these good things which Thou hast given us, may all love thee as I do, and praise thee better than I can, for I am a little boy yet and I have not learned wisdom. Well, is that enough, mamma?"
"Bad boy!" muttered the cattle scribe, bending over his register. "Bad boy! Thou art giving honor to Amon carelessly."
But the pharaoh in that magic globe saw now something altogether different. Behold the prayer of the delighted little boy rose, like a lark, toward the sky, and with fluttering wings it went higher and higher till it reached the throne where the eternal Amon with his hands on his knees was sunk in meditation on his own all-mightiness.
Then it went still higher, as high as the head of the divinity, and sang with the thin, childish little voice to him:
"And for those good things which Thou hast given us may all love thee as I do."
At these words the divinity, sunk in himself, opened his eyes there came to the earth immense calm. Every pain ceased, every fear, every wrong stopped. The whistling missile hung in the air, the lion stopped in his spring on the deer, the stick uplifted did not fall on the back of the captive. The sick man forgot his pains, the wanderer in the desert his hunger, the prisoner his chains. The storm ceased, and the wave of the sea, though ready to drown the ship, halted. And on the whole earth such rest settled down that the sun, just hiding on the horizon, thrust up his shining head again.
The pharaoh recovered. He saw before him a little table, on the table a black globe, at the side of it Beroes the Chaldean.
"Mer-Amen-Ramses," asked the priest, "hast Thou found a person whose prayers reach the footstool of Him who existed before the ages?"
"I have."
"Is he a prince, a noble, a prophet, or perhaps an ordinary hermit?"
"He is a little boy, six years old, who asked Amon for nothing, he only thanked him for everything."
"But dost Thou know where he dwells?" inquired the Chaldean.
"I know, but I will not steal for my own use the virtue of his prayer. The world, Beroes, is a gigantic vortex, in which people are whirled around like sand, and they are whirled by misfortune. That child with his prayer gives people what I cannot give: a brief space of peace and oblivion. Dost understand, O Chaldean?"
Beroes was silent.
Chapter XLIX
AT sunrise of the twenty-first of Hator there came from Memphis to the camp at the Soda Lakes an order by which three regiments were to march to Libya to stand garrison in the towns, the rest of the Egyptian army was to return home with Ramses.
The army greeted this arrangement with shouts of delight, for a stay of some days in the wilderness had begun to annoy them. In spite of supplies from Egypt and from conquered Libya, there was not an excess of provisions; water in the wells dug out quickly, was exhausted; the heat of the sun burned their bodies, and the ruddy sand wounded their lungs and their eyeballs. The warriors were falling ill of dysentery and a malignant inflammation of the eyelids.
Ramses commanded to raise the camp. He sent three native Egyptian regiments to Libya, commanding the soldiers to treat people mildly and never wander from the camp singly. The army proper he turned toward Memphis, leaving a small garrison at the glass huts and in the fortress.
About nine in the morning, in spite of the heat, both armies were on the road; one going northward, the other toward the south.
The holy Mentezufis approached the heir then, and said,
"It would be well, worthiness, couldst Thou reach Memphis earlier. There will be fresh horses half-way."
"Then my father is very ill?" cried out Ramses.
The priest bent his head.
The prince gave command to Mentezufis, begging him to change in no way commands already made, unless he counseled with lay generals. Taking Pentuer, Tutmosis, and twenty of the best Asiatic horsemen, he went himself on a sharp trot toward Memphis.
In five hours they passed half the journey; at the halt, as Mentezufis had declared, were fresh horses and a new escort. The Asiatics remained at that point, and after a short rest the prince with his two companions and a new escort went farther.
"Woe to me!" said Tutmosis. "It is not enough that for five days I have not bathed and know not rose perfumed oil, but besides I must make in one day two forced marches. I am sure that when we reach Memphis no dancer will look at me."
"What! Art Thou better than we?" asked the prince.
"I am more fragile," said the exquisite. "Thou, prince, art as accustomed to riding as a Hyksos, and Pentuer might travel on a red-hot sword. But I am so delicate."
At sunset the travelers came out on a lofty hill, whence they saw an uncommon picture unfolded before them. For a long distance the green valley of Egypt was visible, on the background of it, like a row of ruddy fires, the triangular pyramids stood gleaming. A little to the right of the pyramids the tops of the Memphis pylons, wrapped in a bluish haze, seemed to be flaming upward.
"Let us go; let us go!" said Ramses.
A moment later the reddish desert surrounded them again, and again the line of pyramids gleamed until all was dissolved in the twilight.
When night fell the travelers had reached that immense district of the dead, which extends for a number of tens of miles on the heights along the left side of the river.
Here during the Ancient Kingdom were buried, for endless ages, Egyptians, the pharaohs in immense pyramids, princes and dignitaries in smaller pyramids, common men in mud structures. Here were resting millions of mummies, not only of people, but of dogs, cats, birds, in a word, all creatures which, while they lived, were dear to Egyptians.
During the time of Ramses, the burial-ground of kings and great persons was transferred to Thebes; in the neighborhood of Memphis were buried only common persons and artisans from regions about there.
Among scattered graves, the prince and his escort met a number of people, pushing about like shadows.
"Who are ye?" asked the leader of the escort.
"We are poor servants of the pharaoh returning from our dead. We took to them roses, cakes, and beer."
"But maybe ye looked into strange graves?"
"O gods!" cried one of the party, "could we commit such a sacrilege? It is only the wicked Thebans may their hands wither! who disturb the dead, so as to drink away their property in dramshops?"
"What mean those fires at the north there?" interrupted the prince.
"It must be, worthiness, that Thou comest from afar if Thou know not," answered they. "Tomorrow our heir is returning with a victorious army. He is a great chief! He conquered the Libyans in one battle. Those are the people of Memphis who have gone out to greet him with solemnity. Thirty thousand persons. When they shout."
"I understand," whispered the prince to Pentuer. "Holy Mentezufis has sent me ahead so that I may not have a triumphal entry. But never mind this time."
The horses were tired, and they had to rest. So the prince sent horsemen to engage barges on the river, and the rest of the escort halted under some palms, which at that time grew between the Sphinx and the group of pyramids.
Those pyramids formed the northern limit of the immense cemetery. On the flat, about a square kilometer in area, overgrown at that time with plants of the desert, were tombs and small pyramids, above which towered the three great pyramids: those of Cheops, Chafre, and Menkere, and the Sphinx. These immense structures stand only a few hundred yards from one another. The three pyramids are in a line from northeast to southwest. East of this line and nearer the Nile is the Sphinx, near whose feet was the underground temple of Horus.
The pyramids, but especially that of Cheops, as a work of human labor, astound by their greatness. This pyramid is a pointed stone mountain; its original height was thirty five stories, or four hundred and eighty-one feet, standing on a square foundation each side of which was seven hundred and fifty-five feet. It occupied a little more than thirteen acres of area, and its four triangular walls would cover twenty acres of land. In building it, such vast numbers of stones were used that it would be possible to build a wall of the height of a man, a wall half a meter thick, and two thousand five hundred kilometers long.
When the attendants of the prince had disposed themselves under the wretched trees, some occupied themselves in finding water; others took out cakes, while Tutmosis dropped to the ground and fell asleep directly. But the prince and Pentuer walked up and down conversing.
The night was clear enough to let them see on one side the immense outline of the pyramids, on the other, the Sphinx, which seemed small in comparison.
"I am here for the fourth time," said the heir, "and my heart is always filled with regret and astonishment. When a pupil in the higher school, I thought that, on ascending the throne, I would build something of more worth than the pyramid of Cheops. But today I am ready to laugh at my insolence when I think that the great pharaoh in building his tomb paid sixteen hundred talents (about ten million francs) for the vegetables alone which were used by the laborers. Where should I find sixteen hundred talents even for wages?"
"Envy not Cheops, lord," replied the priest. "Other pharaohs have left better works behind: lakes, canals, roads, schools, and temples."
"But may we compare those things with the pyramids?"
"Of course not," answered Pentuer, hurriedly. "In my eyes and in the eyes of all the people, each pyramid is a great crime, and that of Cheops, the greatest of all crimes."
"Thou art too much excited," said the prince.
"I am not. The pharaoh was building his immense tomb for thirty years; in the course of those years one hundred thousand people worked three months annually. And what good was there in that work? Whom did it feed, whom did it cure, to whom did it give clothing? At that work from ten to twenty thousand people perished yearly; that is, for the tomb of Cheops a half a million corpses were put into the earth. But the blood, the pain, the tears, who will reckon them?
"Therefore, wonder not, lord, that the Egyptian toiler to this day looks with fear toward the west, when above the horizon the triangular forms of the pyramids seem bloody or crimson. They are witnesses of his sufferings and fruitless labor.
"And to think that this will continue till those proofs of human pride are scattered into dust! But when will that be? For three thousand years those pyramids frighten men with their presence; their walls are smooth yet, and the immense inscriptions on them are legible."
"That night in the desert thy speech was different," interrupted the prince.
"For I was not looking at these. But when they are before my eyes, as at present, I am surrounded by the sobbing spirits of tortured toilers, and they whisper, 'See what they did with us! But our bones felt pain, and our hearts longed for rest from labor.'."
Ramses was touched disagreeably by this outburst. "His holiness, my father," said he, after a while, "presented these things to me differently; when we were here five years ago, the sacred lord told me the following narrative:
"During the reign of the pharaoh Tutmosis I, Ethiopian ambassadors came to negotiate touching the tribute to be paid by them. They were all arrogant people. They said that the loss of one war was nothing, that fate might favor them in a second; and for a couple of months they disputed about tribute.
"In vain did the wise pharaoh, in his wish to enlighten the men mildly, show our roads and canals to them. They replied that in their country they had water for nothing wherever they wanted it. In vain he showed them the treasures of the temples; they said that their country concealed more gold and jewels by far than were possessed by all Egypt. In vain did the lord review his armies before them, for they asserted that Ethiopia had incomparably more warriors' than his holiness.
"The pharaoh brought those people at last to these places where we are standing and showed them those structures.
"The Ethiopian ambassadors went around the pyramids, read the inscriptions, and next day they concluded the treaty required of them.
"Since I did not understand the heart of the matter," continued Ramses, "my holy father explained it.
"'My son,' said he, 'these pyramids are an eternal proof of superhuman power in Egypt. If any man wished to raise to himself a pyramid he would pile up a small heap of stones and abandon his labor after some hours had passed, asking: 'What good is this to me?' Ten, one hundred, one thousand men would pile up a few more stones. They would throw them down without order, and leave the work after a few days, for what good would it be to them?
"'But when a pharaoh of Egypt decides, when the Egyptian state has decided to rear a pile of stones, thousands of legions of men are sent out, and for a number of tens of years they build, till the work is completed. For the question is not this: Are the pyramids needed, but this is the will of the pharaoh to be accomplished, once it is uttered.' So, Pentuer, this pyramid is not the tomb of Cheops, but the will of Cheops, a will which had more men to carry it out than had any king on earth, and which was as orderly and enduring in action as the gods are.
"While I was yet at school they taught me that the will of the people was a great power, the greatest power under the sun. And still the will of the people can raise one stone barely. How great, then, must be the will of the pharaoh who has raised a mountain of stones only because it pleased him, only because he wished thus, even were it without an object."
"Wouldst thou, lord, wish to show thy power in such fashion?" inquired Pentuer, suddenly.
"No," answered the prince, without hesitation. "When the pharaohs have once shown their power, they may be merciful; unless some one should resist their orders."
"And still this young man is only twenty three years of age!" thought the frightened priest.
They turned toward the river and walked some time in silence.
"Lie down, lord," said the priest, after a while; "sleep. We have made no small journey."
"But can I sleep?" answered the prince. "First I am surrounded by those legions of laborers who, according to thy view, perished in building the pyramids Just as if they could have lived forever had they not raised those structures! Then, again, I think of his holiness, my father, who is dying, perhaps, at this very moment. Common men suffer, common men spill their blood! Who will prove to me that my divine father is not tortured more on his costly bed than thy toilers who are carrying heated stones to a building?
"Laborers, always laborers! For thee, O priest, only he deserves compassion who bites lice. A whole series of pharaohs have gone into their graves; some died in torments, some were killed. But Thou thinkest not of them; Thou thinkest only of those whose service is that they begot other toilers who dipped up muddy water from the Nile, or thrust barley balls into the mouths of their milch cows.
"But my father and I? Was not my son slain, and also a woman of my household? Was Typhon compassionate to me in the desert? Do not my bones ache after a long journey? Do not missiles from Libyan slings whistle over my head? Have I a treaty with sickness, with pain, or with death, that they should be kinder to me than to thy toilers?
"Look there: the Asiatics are sleeping, and quiet has taken possession of their breasts; but I, their lord, have a heart full of yesterday's cares, and of fears for the morrow. Ask a toiling man of a hundred years whether in all his life he had as much sorrow as I have had during my power of a few months as commander and viceroy."
Before them rose slowly from the depth of the night a wonderful shade. It was an object fifty yards long and as high as a house of three stories, having at its side, as it were, a five-storied tower of uncommon structure.
"Here is the Sphinx," said the irritated prince, "purely priests' work! Whenever I see this, in the day or the night time, the question always tortures me: What is this, and what is the use of it? The pyramids I understand: Almighty pharaoh wished to show his power, and, perhaps, which was wiser, wished to secure eternal life which no thief or enemy might take from him. Drat this Sphinx! Evidently that is our sacred priestly order, which has a very large, wise head and lion's claws beneath it.
"This repulsive statue, full of double meaning, which seems to exult because we appear like locusts when we stand near it, it is neither a man nor a beast nor a rock What is it, then? What is its meaning? Or that smile which it has If Thou admire the everlasting endurance of the pyramids, it smiles; if Thou go past to converse with the tombs, it smiles. Whether the fields of Egypt are green, or Typhon lets loose his fiery steeds, or the slave seeks his freedom in the desert, or Ramses the Great drives conquered nations before him, it has for all one and the same changeless smile. Nineteen dynasties have passed like shadows; but it smiles on and would smile even were the Nile to grow dry, and were Egypt to disappear under sand fields.
"Is not that monster the more dreadful that it has a mild human visage? Lasting itself throughout ages, it has never known grief over life, which is fleeting and filled with anguish."
"Dost Thou not remember, lord, the 'faces of the gods," interrupted Pentuer, "or hast Thou not seen mummies? All immortals look on transient things with the selfsame indifference. Even man does when nearing the end of his earth-life."
"The gods hear our prayers sometimes, but the Sphinx never moves. No compassion on that face, a mere gigantic jeering terror. If I knew that in its mouth were hidden some prophecy for me, or some means to elevate Egypt, I should not dare to put a question. It seems to me that I should hear some awful answer uttered with unpitying calmness. This is the work and the image of the priesthood. It is worse than man, for it has a lion's body; it is worse than a beast, for it has a human head; it is worse than stone, for inexplicable life is contained in it."
At that moment groaning and muffled voices reached them, the source of which they could not determine.
"Is the Sphinx singing?" inquired the astonished prince.
"That singing is in the underground temple," replied Pentuer. "But why are they praying at this night hour?"
"Ask rather why they pray at all, since no one hears them."
Pentuer took the direction at once and went toward the place of the singing. The prince found some stone for a support and sat down wearied. He put his hands behind him, leaned back, and looked into the immense face before him.
In spite of the lack of light, the superhuman features were clearly visible; just the shade added life and character. The more the prince gazed into that face, the more powerfully he felt that he had been prejudiced, that his dislike was unreasonable.
On the face of the Sphinx, there was no cruelty, but rather resignation. In its smile there was no jeering, but rather sadness. It did not feel the wretchedness and fleeting nature of mankind, for it did not see them. Its eyes, filled with expression, were fixed somewhere beyond the Nile, beyond the horizon, toward regions concealed from human sight beneath the vault of heaven. Was it watching the disturbing growth of the Assyrian monarchy? Or the impudent activity of Phoenicia? Or the birth of Greece, or events, perhaps, which were preparing on the Jordan? Who could answer?
The prince was sure of one thing, that it was gazing, thinking, waiting for something with a calm smile worthy of supernatural existence. And, moreover, it seemed to him that if that something appeared on the horizon, the Sphinx would rise up and go to meet it.
What was that to be, and when would it come? This was a mystery the significance of which was depicted expressly on the face of that creature which had existed for ages. But it would of necessity take place on a sudden, since the Sphinx had not closed its eyes for one instant during millenniums, and was gazing, gazing, always.
Meanwhile Pentuer found a window through which came from the underground temple pensive hymns of the priestly chorus:
Chorus I. "Rise, as radiant as Isis, rise as Sotis rises on the firmament in the morning at the beginning of the established year."
Chorus II. "The god Amon-Ra was on my right and on my left. He himself gave into my hands dominion over all the world, thus causing the downfall of my enemies."
Chorus I. "Thou wert still young, Thou wert wearing braided hair, but in Egypt naught was done save at thy command no corner-stone was laid for an edifice unless Thou wert present."
Chorus II. "I came to Thee, ruler of the gods, great god, lord of the sun. Turn promises that the sun will appear, and that I shall be like him, and the Nile; that I shall reach the throne of Osiris, and shall possess it forever."
Chorus I. "Thou hast returned in peace, respected by the gods, O ruler of both worlds, Ra-Mer-Amen-Ramses. I assure to thee unbroken rule; kings will come to thee to pay tribute."
Chorus II. "O thou, Thou Osiris-Ramses! ever-living son of heaven, born of the goddess Nut, may thy mother surround thee with the mystery of heaven, and permit that Thou become a god, O thou, O Osiris-Ramses." [Tomb inscriptions]
"So then the holy father is dead," said Pentuer to himself.
He left the window and approached the place where the heir was sitting, sunk in imaginings.
The priest knelt before him, fell on his face, and exclaimed:
"Be greeted, O pharaoh, ruler of the world!"
"What dost Thou say?" cried the prince, springing up.
"May the One, the All-Powerful, pour down on thee wisdom and strength, and happiness on thy people."
"Rise, Pentuer! Then I then I."
Suddenly he took the arm of the priest and turned toward the Sphinx.
"Look at it," said he.
But neither in the face nor in the posture of the colossus was there any change. One pharaoh had stepped over the threshold of eternity; another rose up like the sun, but the stone face of the god or the monster was the same precisely. On its lips was a gentle smile for earthly power and glory; in its glance there was a waiting for something which was to come, but when no one knew.
Soon the messengers returned from the ferry with information that boats would be waiting there.
Pentuer went among the palms, and cried,
"Wake! wake!"
The watchful Asiatics sprang up at once, and began to bridle their horses. Tutmosis also rose, and yawned with a grimace.
"Brr!" grumbled he, "what cold! Sleep is a good thing! I barely dozed a little, and now I am able to go even to the end of the world, even again to the Soda Lakes. Brr! I have forgotten the taste of wine, and it seems to me that my hands are becoming covered with hair, like the paws of a jackal. And it is two hours to 'the palace yet.
"Happy are common men! One ragged rogue sleeps after another and feels no need of washing: he will not go to work till his wife brings a barley cake; while I, a great lord, must wander about, like a thief in the night, through the desert, without a drop of water to put to my lips."
The horses were ready, and Ramses mounted his own. Pentuer approached, took the bridle of the ruler's steed, and led, going himself on foot.
"What is this?" inquired the astonished Tutmosis.
He bethought himself quickly, ran up, and took Ramses' horse by the bridle on the other side. And so all advanced in silence, astonished at the bearing of the priest, though they felt that something important had happened.
After a few hundred steps the desert ceased, and a highroad through the field lay before the travelers.
"Mount your horses," said Ramses; "we must hurry."
"His holiness commands you to sit on your horses," cried Pentuer.
All were amazed. But Tutmosis recovered quickly, and placed his hand on his sword-hilt.
"May he live through eternity, our all-powerful and gracious leader Ramses!" shouted the adjutant.
"May he live through eternity!" howled the Asiatics, shaking their weapons.
"I thank you, my faithful warriors," answered their lord.
A moment later the mounted party was hastening toward the river.
Chapter L
We know not whether the prophets in the underground temple of the Sphinx saw the new ruler of Egypt when he halted at the foot of the pyramids, and gave information touching him at the palace, and if so how they did it. The fact is that when Ramses was approaching the ferry, the most worthy Herhor gave orders to rouse the palace servants, and when their lord was crossing the Nile all priests, generals, and civil dignitaries were assembled in the great hall of audience.
Exactly at sunrise Ramses XIII, at the head of a small escort, rode into the palace yard, where the servants fell on their faces before him, and the guard presented arms to the sound of drums and trumpets.
His holiness saluted the army and went to the bathing chambers, where he took a bath filled with perfumes. Then he gave permission to arrange his divine hair; but when the barber asked most submissively if the pharaoh commanded to shave his head and beard, the lord replied,
"There is no need. I am not a priest, but a warrior."
These words reached the audience-hall a moment later; in an hour they had gone around the palace; about midday they had passed through every part of the city of Memphis, and toward evening they were known in all the temples of the state, from Tami-n-hor and Sabue-Chetam on the north to Suunu and Pilak on the south.
At this intelligence the nomarchs, the nobility, the army, the people, and the foreigners were wild with delight, but the sacred order of priests mourned the more zealously the dead pharaoh.
When his holiness emerged from the bath he put on a warrior's short shirt with black and yellow stripes, and a yellow breast-piece; on his feet sandals fastened with thongs, and on his head a low helmet with a circlet. Then he girded on that Assyrian sword which he had worn at the battle of the Soda Lakes, and, surrounded by a great suite of generals, he entered with a clatter and clinking the audience-hall.
There the high priest Herhor stood before him, having at his side Sem, the holy high priest, Mefres, and others, and behind him the chief judges of Thebes and Memphis, some of the nearer nomarchs, the chief treasurer, also the overseers of the house of wheat, the house of cattle, the house of garments, the house of slaves, the house of silver and gold, and a multitude of other dignitaries.
Herhor bowed before Ramses, and said with emotion,
"Lord! it has pleased thy eternally living father to withdraw to the gods where he is enjoying endless delight. To thee, then, has fallen the duty of caring for the fate of the orphan kingdom.
"Be greeted, therefore, O lord and ruler of the world, and, holiness, may Thou live through eternity Cham-Sam-mereramen-Ramses-Neter-haq-an."
Those present repeated this salutation with enthusiasm. They expected the new ruler to show some emotion or feeling. To the astonishment of all he merely moved his brow and answered,
"In accordance with the will of his holiness, my father, and with the laws of Egypt, I take possession of government and will conduct it to the glory of the state and the happiness of the people."
He turned suddenly to Herhor and, looking him sharply in the eyes, inquired,
"On thy miter, worthiness, I see the golden serpent. Why hast Thou put that symbol of regal power on thy head?"
A deathlike silence settled on the assembly. The haughtiest man in Egypt had never dreamed that the young lord would begin rule by putting a question like that to the most powerful person in the state, more powerful, perhaps, than the late pharaoh.
But behind the young lord stood a number of generals; in the courtyard glittered the bronze-covered regiments of the guard; and crossing the Nile at that moment was an army wild from the triumph at the Soda Lakes, and enamored of its leader.
The powerful Herhor grew pale as wax, and the voice could not issue from his straitened throat.
"I ask your worthiness," repeated the pharaoh, calmly, "by what right is the regal serpent on thy miter?"
"This is the miter of thy grandfather, the holy Amenhotep," answered Herhor, in a low voice. "The supreme council commanded me to wear it on occasions."
"My holy grandfather," replied the pharaoh, "was father of the queen, and in the way of favor he received the right to adorn his miter with the ureus. But, so far as is known to me, his sacred vestment is counted among the relics of the temple of Amon."
Herhor had recovered.
"Deign to remember, holiness," explained he, "that for twenty-four hours Egypt has been deprived of its legal ruler. Meanwhile some one had to wake and put to sleep the god Osiris, to impart blessings to the people and render homage to the ancestors of the pharaoh."
"In such a grievous time the supreme council commanded me to wear this holy relic, so that the order of the state and the service of the gods might not be neglected. But the moment that we have a lawful and mighty ruler I set aside the wondrous relic."
Then Herhor took from his head the miter adorned with the ureus, and gave it to the high priest Mefres.
The threatening face of the pharaoh grew calm, and he turned his steps toward the throne.
Suddenly the holy Mefres barred the way, and said while bending to the pavement,
"Deign, holy lord, to hear my most submissive prayer."
But neither in his voice nor his eyes was there submission when, straightening himself, he continued,
"I have words from the supreme council of high priests."
"Utter them," said the pharaoh.
"It is known to thee, holiness, that a pharaoh who has not received ordination as high priest cannot perform the highest sacrifices; that is, dress and undress the miraculous Osiris."
"I understand," interrupted Ramses, "I am a pharaoh who has not received the ordination of high priest."
"For that reason," continued Mefres, "the supreme council begs thee submissively, holiness, to appoint a high priest to take thy place in religious functions."
When they heard these decided words, the high priests and civil dignitaries trembled and squirmed as if standing on hot stones, and the generals touched their swords as if involuntarily. The holy Mefres looked at them with unconcealed contempt, and fixed his cold glance again on the face of the pharaoh.
But the lord of the world showed no trouble even this time.
"It is well," said he, "that Thou hast reminded me, worthiness, of this important duty. The military profession and affairs of state do not permit me to occupy myself with the ceremonies of our holy religion, so I must appoint a substitute."
While speaking he looked around at the men assembled.
On the left of Herhor stood the holy Sem. Ramses glanced into his mild and honest face and inquired suddenly,
"Who and what art thou, worthiness?"
"My name is Sem; I am high priest of the temple of Ptah in Pi-Bast."
"Thou wilt be my substitute in religious ceremonies," said the pharaoh, pointing toward him with his finger.
A murmur of astonishment ran through the assembly.
After long meditation and counsels it would have been difficult to select a more worthy priest for that high office.
Herhor grew much paler than before; Mefres pressed his blue lips together tightly and dropped his eyelids.
A moment later the new pharaoh sat on his throne, which instead of feet had the carved figures of princes and the kings of nine nations.
Soon Herhor gave to the lord, on a golden plate, a white and also a red crown.
The sovereign placed the crowns on his own head in silence, while those present fell prostrate.
That was not the solemn coronation; it was merely taking possession of power.
When the priests had incensed the pharaoh and had sung a hymn to Osiris, imploring that god to pour all blessings on the sovereign, dignitaries of the civil power and of the army were permitted to kiss the lowest step of the throne. Then Ramses took a gold spoon, and, repeating a prayer which the holy Sem pronounced aloud, he incensed the statues of the gods arranged in line on both sides of the pharaoh's chapel.
"What am I to do now?" inquired he.
"Show thyself to the people," replied Herhor.
Through a gilded, widely opened door his holiness ascended marble steps to a terrace, and, raising his hands, faced in turn toward the four sides of the universe. The sound of trumpets was heard, and from the summits of pylons banners were hung out. Whoso was in a field, in a yard, on the street, fell prostrate; the stick, raised above the back of a beast or a slave, was lowered without giving the blow, and all criminals against the state who had been sentenced that day received grace.
Descending from the terrace the pharaoh inquired,
"Have I something more to do?"
"Refreshments and affairs of state are awaiting thee, holiness," replied Herhor.
"After that I may rest," said the pharaoh. "Where are the remains of his holiness, my father?"
"Given to the embalmers," whispered Herhor.
Tears filled the pharaoh's eyes, and his mouth quivered, but he restrained himself and looked down in silence. It was not proper that servants should see emotion in such a mighty ruler.
Wishing to turn the pharaoh's attention to another subject, Herhor asked,
"Wilt Thou be pleased, holiness, to receive the homage due from the queen, thy mother?"
"I? Am I to receive homage from my mother?" asked Ramses, with repressed voice.
"Hast Thou forgotten what the sage Eney said? Perhaps holy Sem will repeat those beautiful words to us."
"Remember," quoted Sem, "that she gave birth to thee and nourished thee in every manner."
"Speak further; speak!" insisted the pharaoh, striving always to command himself.
"Shouldst Thou forget that she would raise her hands to the god, and he would hear her complaint. She bore thee long beneath her heart, like a great burden, and gave thee birth when thy mouths had expired. She carried thee in her arms afterward, and during three years she put her breast into thy mouth. She reared thee, was not disgusted with thy uncleanness. And when Thou wert going to school and wert exercised in writing, she placed before thy teacher daily bread and beer from her own dwelling." [Authentic]
Ramses sighed deeply and said with calmness,
"So ye see that it is not proper that my mother should salute me. Rather I will go to her."
And he passed through a series of halls lined with marble, alabaster, and wood, painted in bright colors, carved and gilded; behind him went his immense suite. But when he came to the antechamber of his mother's apartments, he made a sign to leave him. When he had passed the antechamber, he stopped a while before the door, then knocked and entered quietly.
In a chamber with bare walls, where in place of furniture there stood only a low wooden couch and a broken pitcher holding water, all in sign of mourning, Queen Niort's, the mother of the pharaoh, was sitting on a stone. She was in a coarse shirt, barefoot; her face was smeared with mud from the Nile, and in her tangled hair there were ashes.
When she saw Ramses, the worthy lady inclined so as to fall at his feet. But the son seized her in his arms, and said with weeping,
"If thou, O mother, incline to the ground before me, I shall be forced to go under the ground before thee."
The queen drew his head to her bosom, wiped away his tears with the sleeve of her coarse shirt, and then, raising her hands, whispered,
"May all the gods, may the spirit of thy father and grandfather, surround thee with blessing and solicitude. O Isis, I have never spared offerings to thee, but today I make the greatest; I give my beloved son to thee. Let this kingly son become thy son entirely, and may his greatness and his glory increase thy divine inheritance."
The pharaoh embraced and kissed his mother repeatedly, then he seated her on the wooden couch and sat on the stone himself.
"Has my father left commands to me?" inquired he.
"He begged thee only to remember him, but he said to the supreme council, 'I leave you my heir, who is a lion and an eagle in one person; obey him, and he will elevate Egypt to incomparable power.'."
"Dost Thou think that the priests will obey me?"
"Remember," answered the queen, "that the device of the pharaoh is a serpent, and a serpent means prudence, which is silent, and no one knows when it will bite mortally. If Thou take time as thy confederate, Thou wilt accomplish everything."
"Herhor is tremendously haughty. Today he dared to put on the miter of the holy Amenhotep. Of course I commanded him to set it aside. I will remove him from the government, him and certain members of the supreme council."
The queen shook her head.
"Egypt is thine," said she, "and the gods have endowed thee with great wisdom. Were it not for that, I should fear terribly a struggle with Herhor."
"I do not dispute with him; I remove him."
"Egypt is thine," repeated the queen, "but I fear a struggle with the priests. It is true that thy father, who was mild beyond measure, has made those men insolent, but it is not wise to bring them to despair through severity. Besides, think of this: Who will replace them in counsel? They know everything that has been, that is, and that will be on earth and in heaven; they know the most secret thoughts of mankind, and they direct hearts as the wind directs tree leaves. Without them Thou wilt be ignorant not only of what is happening in Tyre and Nineveh, but even in Thebes and Memphis."
"I do not reject their wisdom, but I want service," answered the pharaoh. "I know that their understanding is great, but it must be controlled so that it may not deceive, and it must be directed lest it ruin the State. Tell me thyself, mother, what they have done with Egypt in the course of thirty years? The people suffer want, or are in rebellion; the army is small, the treasury is empty, and meanwhile two months' distance from us Assyria is increasing like dough containing leaven, and today is forcing on us treaties."
"Do as may please thee, but remember that the device of a pharaoh is a serpent, and a serpent is silence and discretion."
"Thou speakest truth, mother, but believe me, at certain times daring is better than prudence. The priests planned, as I know today, that the Libyan war should last entire years. I finished it in the course of a few days, and only because every day I took some mad but decisive step If I had not rushed to the desert against them, which by the way was a great indiscretion, we should have the Libyans outside Memphis at this moment."
"I know that Thou didst hunt down Tehenna, and that Typhon caught thee," said the queen. "O hasty child, Thou didst not think of me."
He smiled.
"Be of good heart," replied Ramses. "When the pharaoh is in battle, at his left and his right hand stands Amon. Who then can touch him?"
He embraced the queen once more and departed.
Chapter LI
THE immense suite of his holiness had remained in the hall of attendance, but as if split into two parts. On one side were Herhor, Mefres, and some high priests superior in years; on the other were all the generals, civil officials, and a majority of the younger priests.
The eagle glance of the pharaoh saw in one instant this division of dignitaries, and in the heart of the young sovereign joyous pride was kindled.
"And here I have gained a victory without drawing my sword," thought Ramses.
The dignitaries drew away farther and more distinctly from Herhor and Mefres, for no one doubted that the two high priests, till then the most powerful persons in the state, had ceased to possess the favor of the new pharaoh.
Now the sovereign went to the hall of refection, where he was astonished first of all by the multitude of serving priests and the number of the dishes.
"Have I to eat all this?" inquired he, without hiding his amazement.
The priest who inspected the kitchen explained to the pharaoh that the dishes not used by his holiness went as offerings to the dynasty. And while speaking he indicated the statues placed in line along the hall.
Ramses gazed at the statues, which looked as if no one had made them an offering; next at the priests, who were as fresh of complexion as if they had eaten everything presented; then he asked for beer, also the bread used by warriors, and garlic.
The elder priest was astonished, but he repeated the order to the younger one. The younger hesitated, but repeated the command to the serving men and women. The servants at the first moment did not believe their own ears, but a quarter of an hour later they returned terrified, and whispered to the priests that there was no warriors' bread nor garlic.
The pharaoh smiled and gave command that from that day forth there should not be a lack of simple food in his kitchen. Then he ate a pigeon, a morsel of wheaten cake, and drank some wine.
He confessed in spirit that the food was well prepared and the wine exquisite. He could not free himself from the thought, however, that the court kitchen must swallow immense sums of money.
Having burnt incense to his ancestors, the pharaoh betook himself to his cabinet to hear reports from ministers.
Herhor came first. He bent down before his lord much lower than he had when greeting him, and congratulated Ramses on his victory at the Soda Lakes with great enthusiasm.
"Thou didst rush," said he, "holiness, on the Libyans like Typhon on the miserable tents of wanderers through the desert. Thou hast won a great battle with very small losses, and with one blow of thy divine sword hast finished a war, the end of which was unseen by us common men."
The pharaoh felt his dislike toward the minister decreasing.
"For this cause," continued the high priest, "the supreme council implores thee, holiness, to appoint ten talents' reward to the valiant regiments. Do thou, as supreme chief, permit that to thy name be added 'The Victorious.'."
Counting on the youth of the pharaoh, Herhor exaggerated in flattery. Ramses recovered from his delight and replied on a sudden,
"What wouldst Thou add to my name had I destroyed the Assyrian army and filled our temples with the riches of Nineveh and Babylon?"
"So he is always dreaming of that?" thought the high priest.
The pharaoh, as if to confirm Herhor's fears, changed the subject.
"How many troops have we?" asked he.
"Here in Memphis?"
"No, in all Egypt."
"Thou hadst ten regiments, holiness," answered Herhor. "The worthy Nitager on the eastern boundary has fifteen. There are ten on the south, for Nubia begins to be disturbed; five are garrisoned throughout the country."
"Forty altogether," said Ramses, after some thought. "How many warriors in all?"
"About sixty thousand."
Ramses sprang up from his chair.
"Sixty thousand instead of one hundred and twenty thousand!" shouted he. "What does this mean? What have ye done with my army?"
"There are no means to maintain more men."
"O God!" said the Pharaoh, seizing his head. "But the Assyrians may attack us a month hence. We are disarmed."
"We have a preliminary treaty with Assyria," put in Herhor.
"A woman might give such an answer, but not a minister of war," said Ramses, with indignation. "What does a treaty mean when there is no army behind it: Today one half of the troops which King Assar commands would crush us."
"Deign to be at rest, holy lord. At the first news of Assyrian treason we should have half a million of warriors."
The pharaoh laughed in his face.
"What? How? Thou art mad, priest! Thou art groping among papyruses, but I have served seven years in the army, and there was almost no day which I did not pass in drill or maneuvers. How couldst Thou have an army of half a million in the course of a few months?"
"All the nobility would rise."
"What is thy nobility? Nobility is not an army. To form an army of half a million, at least a hundred and fifty regiments are needed, and we, as Thou thyself sayest, have forty. How could those men who today are herding cattle, ploughing land, making pots, or drinking and idling on their lands, learn the art of warfare? Egyptians are poor materials for an army. I know that, for I see them daily. A Libyan, a Greek, a Hittite, in boyhood even uses a bow and arrows and a sling; he handles a club perfectly; in a year he learns to march passably. But only in three years will an Egyptian march in some fashion. It is true that he grows accustomed to a sword and a spear in two years, but to cast missiles four years are too short a time for him. So in the course of a few months ye could put out not an army, but half a million of a rabble which the Assyrians would break to pieces in the twinkle of an eye. For, though the Assyrian regiments are poor and badly trained, an Assyrian knows how to hurl stones and shoot arrows; he knows how to cut and thrust, and, above all, he has the onrush of a wild beast, which is lacking in the mild Egyptians altogether. We break the enemy by this, that our trained and drilled regiments are like a battering ram: it is necessary to beat down one-half of our men before the column is injured. But when the column is broken, there is no Egyptian army."
"Thou speakest wisdom," said Herhor to the panting pharaoh. "Only the gods possess such acquaintance with things. I know that the forces of Egypt are too weak; that to create new ones many years of labor are needed. For this very reason I wish to conclude a treaty with Assyria."
"But ye have concluded it already!"
"For the moment. Sargon, in view of the sickness of thy father, and fearing thee, holiness, deferred the conclusion of a regular treaty till Thou shouldst ascend the throne."
The pharaoh fell into anger again.
"What?" cried he. "Then they think really of seizing Phoenicia! And do they suppose that I will sign the infamy of my reign? Evil spirits have seized all of you!"
The audience was ended. Herhor fell on his face this time, but while returning from his lord he considered in his heart,
"His holiness has heard the report, hence he does not reject my services. I have told him that he must sign a treaty with Assyria, hence the most difficult question is finished. He will come to his mind before Sargon returns to us. But he is a lion, and not even a lion, but a mad elephant. Still he became pharaoh only because he is the grandson of a high priest. He does not understand yet that those same hands which raised him so high."
In the antechamber the worthy Herhor halted, thought over something; at last instead of going to his own dwelling he went to Queen Niort's.
In the garden there were neither women nor children, but from the scattered villas came groans. Those were from women belonging to the house of the late pharaoh who were lamenting that sovereign who had gone to the west. Their sorrow, it seemed, was sincere.
Meanwhile the supreme judge entered the cabinet of the new pharaoh.
"What hast Thou to tell me, worthiness?" asked Ramses.
"Some days ago an unusual thing happened near Thebes," replied the judge. "A laborer killed his wife and three children and drowned himself in the sacred lake."
"Had he gone mad?"
"It seems that his act was caused by hunger."
The pharaoh grew thoughtful.
"A strange event," said he, "but I wish to hear of something else. What crimes happen most commonly in these days?"
The supreme judge hesitated.
"Speak boldly," said the pharaoh, now grown impatient, "and hide nothing from me. I know that Egypt has fallen into a morass; I wish to draw it out, hence I must know everything."
"The most usual crimes are revolts. But only common people revolt," added the judge, hastily.
"I am listening," said the pharaoh.
"In Kosem a regiment of masons and stone-cutters revolted recently; for some time needful supplies had been refused them. In Sechem earth- tillers killed a scribe who was collecting taxes. In Melcatis and Pi- Hebit also earth-tillers wrecked the houses of Phoenician tenants. At Kasa they refused to repair the canal, declaring that pay from the treasury was clue them for that labor. Finally in the porphyry quarries the convicts killed their overseers and tried to escape in a body to the seacoast."
"This news does not surprise me," replied the pharaoh. "But what dost Thou think?"
"It is necessary first of all to punish the guilty."
"But I think it necessary first of all to give laborers what belongs to them. A hungry ox will lie down; a hungry horse will totter on his feet and pant. How, then, can we ask a hungry man to work and not declare that he is suffering?"
"Then, holiness."
"Pentuer will open a council to investigate these matters," interrupted the pharaoh. "Meanwhile I have no desire to punish."
"In that case a general insurrection will break out," cried the judge, in alarm.
The pharaoh rested his chin on his hands and considered,
"Well," said he, after a while, "let the courts do their work, but as mildly as possible. And this very day Pentuer will assemble his council."
"In truth," added he, after a time, "it is easier to make a decision in battle than in the disorder which has mastered Egypt."
When the supreme judge had departed, the pharaoh summoned Tutmosis. He directed him to salute in the name of the sovereign the army returning from the Soda Lakes, and to distribute twenty talents among the officers and warriors.
Then he commanded Pentuer to come; meanwhile he received the chief treasurer.
"I wish to know," said he, "what the condition of the treasury is."
"We have," replied the dignitary, "at this moment twenty thousand talents of value in the granaries, stables, storehouses, and chests, while taxes are coming in daily."
"But insurrections are breaking out daily," added the pharaoh. "What is our general income and outgo?"
"On the army we expend yearly twenty thousand talents; on the court two to three thousand talents monthly."
"Well, what further? And public works?"
"At present they are carried on without expense," said the treasurer, dropping his head.
"And the income?"
"We have as much as we expend," whispered the official.
"Then we have forty or fifty thousand talents yearly. And where is the rest?"
"Mortgaged to the Phoenicians, to certain bankers, to merchants, and to the temples."
"Well, but there is besides the inviolable treasure of the pharaohs in gold, platinum, and jewels; how much is that worth?"
"That was taken and distributed ten years ago."
"For what purpose? To whom?"
"For the needs of the court, in gifts to nomarchs and to temples."
"The court had incomes from current taxes. But could presents exhaust the treasury of my father?"
"Osiris Ramses, thy father, holiness, was a bountiful lord and made great offerings."
"Is it possible? Were they so great? I wish to know about this," said the pharaoh, impatiently.
"Exact accounts are in the archives; I remember only general figures."
"Speak!"
"For example," answered the treasurer, hesitatingly, "Osiris Ramses in the course of his happy reign gave to the temples about one hundred towns, one hundred and twenty ships, two million head of cattle, two million bags of wheat, one hundred and twenty thousand horses, eighty thousand slaves, two hundred thousand kegs of beer and wine, three million loaves of bread, thirty thousand garments, thirty thousand vessels of honey, olives, and incense. Besides that, one thousand talents of gold, three thousand talents of silver, ten thousand of bronze, five hundred talents of dark bronze, six million garlands of flowers, twelve hundred statues of gods, and thirty thousand precious stones. [The gifts of Ramses III to the temples were incomparably greater] Other numbers I do not remember at the moment, but they are all recorded."
The pharaoh raised his hands with laughter, but after a time fell into anger, and cried, while striking the table with his fist,
"It is an unheard of thing that a handful of priests should use so much beer and bread, so many garlands and robes, while they have their own income, an immense income, which exceeds the wants of these holy men a hundred times."
"Thou hast been pleased, holiness, to forget that the priests support tens of thousands of poor; they cure an equal number of sick, and maintain a number of regiments at the expense of the temples."
"What do they want of regiments? Even the pharaohs use troops only in wartime. As to the sick, almost every man of them pays for himself, or works out what he owes the temple for curing him. And the poor? But they work for the temple: they carry water for the gods, take part in solemnities, and, above all, are connected with the working of miracles. It is they who at the gates of the temples recover reason, sight, hearing; their wounds are cured, their feet and hands regain strength, while the people looking at these miracles pray all the more eagerly and give offerings to gods the more bountiful.
"The poor are like the oxen and sheep of the temples: they bring in pure profit."
"But," the treasurer made bold to put in, "the priests do not expend all the offerings; they lay them up, and increase the capital."
"For what purpose?"
"For some sudden need of the state."
"Who has seen this capital?"
"I have seen it myself," said the dignitary. "The treasures accumulated in the labyrinth do not decrease; they increase from generation to generation, so that in case."
"So that the Assyrians might have something to take when they conquer Egypt, which is managed by priests so beautifully!" interrupted the pharaoh. "I thank thee, chief treasurer; I knew that the financial condition of Egypt was bad, but I did not suppose the state ruined. There are rebellions, there is no army, the pharaoh is in poverty; but the treasure in the labyrinth is increasing from generation to generation."
"If each dynasty, an entire dynasty, gave as many gifts to temples as my father has given, the labyrinth would have nineteen thousand talents of gold, about sixty thousand of silver, and so much wheat, and land, so many cattle, slaves, and towns, so many garments and precious stones, that the best accountant could not reckon them."
The chief treasurer was crushed when taking farewell of the sovereign. But the sovereign himself was not satisfied, for after a moment's thought it seemed to him that he had spoken too plainly with officials.
Chapter LII
THE guard in the antechamber announced Pentuer. The priest prostrated himself before the pharaoh, and said that he was waiting for commands.
"I do not wish to command," said Ramses, "but to beg thee. Thou knowest that in Egypt there are riots of laborers, artisans, even convicts. There are riots from the sea to the quarries. The only thing lacking is that my warriors should rebel and proclaim as pharaoh Herhor, for example."
"Live through eternity, holiness!" replied the priest. "There is not a man in Egypt who would not sacrifice himself for thee, and not bless thy name."
"Aha, if they knew," said the ruler, with anger, "how helpless the pharaoh is, and how poor he is, each nomarch would like to be the lord of his province. I thought that on inheriting the double crown I should signify something. But I have convinced myself during the first day that I am merely a shadow of the former rulers of Egypt; for what can a pharaoh be without wealth, without an army, and, above all, without faithful subjects? I am like the statues of the gods which they incense, and before which they place offerings. The statues are powerless and the offerings serve to fatten the priests. But, true, Thou art on their side."
"It is painful to me," answered Pentuer, "that Thou speakest thus, holiness, on the first day of thy reign. If news of this were to go over Egypt!"
"To whom can I tell what pains me?" interrupted Ramses. "Thou art my counselor; I was saved by thee, or at least Thou hadst the wish to save my life, not of course to publish to the world that which is happening in the ruler's heart, which heart I open before thee. But Thou art right."
He walked up and down in the chamber, and said after a while in a tone considerably calmer,
"I have appointed thee chief of a council which is to investigate the causes of those ever-recurring riots in Egypt. I wish that only the guilty be punished, and that justice be done those who are injured."
"May the god support thee with his favor," whispered the priest. "I will do what Thou commandest. But the causes of the riots I know already."
"What are they?"
"More than once have I spoken of them to thee, holiness. The toiling people are hungry; they have too much work, and they pay too many taxes. He who worked formerly from sunrise till sunset must begin now an hour before sunrise and finish an hour after sunset. It is not long since a common man might go every tenth day to visit the graves of his mother and father, speak with their shades, and make them offerings. But today no one goes, for no one has time to go."
"Formerly a working man ate three wheat cakes in the course of the day; at present he has not even barley bread. Formerly labor on the canals, dams, and roads was deducted from the taxes; now the taxes are paid independently while public works are carried on without wages. These are the causes of riots."
"I am the poorest noble in the kingdom!" cried the pharaoh, while he tugged at his own hair. "Any landowner gives his cattle proper food and rest; but all men who work for me are tired and hungry."
"What am I to do, then, tell Thou who hast begged me to improve the lot of the workers?"
"Wilt Thou command me to tell, lord?"
"I will beg, I will command, as Thou wishest. Only speak wisely."
"Blessed be thy rule, O true son of Osiris," answered the priest. "This is what it is proper to do: Command, lord, first of all, that pay be given for labor on public works, as was the case formerly."
"Of course."
"Next command that field labor last only from sunrise till sunset. Then direct, as during the divine dynasties, that people rest every seventh day; not every tenth, but every seventh day. Then command that landowners shall not have the right to mortgage earth-tillers, or scribes the right to beat and torture them according to fancy.
"And finally, give the tenth part, or even the twentieth part of the land as property to the workers, so that no one may take it away or mortgage it. Let each family have as much land in extent as the pavement of this room, and it will not be hungry. Give the people desert sands as property, and in a few years gardens will be growing on them."
"Thou speakest beautifully," interrupted the pharaoh; "but what Thou sayest is what Thou seest in thy heart, not in the world. Men's plans, though the best, are not always in accord with the natural course of things."
"I have seen such changes and their result, holiness," answered Pentuer.
"At certain temples various trials have been made at curing the sick, teaching children, rearing cattle, cultivating plants, and reforming men, and the following has happened: When they gave a lean and lazy man good food, and rest every seventh day, the man became sturdy, willing to work, and he dug more land than before. A laborer who receives wages is more cheerful and does more work than a slave, even though beaten with whips of iron. Well-nourished people have more children than hungry and overworked ones; the children of free men are healthy and strong; those of slaves are fragile, gloomy, inclined to stealing and to lying. Men have convinced themselves that land tilled by its owner gives one half more grain and vegetables than land tilled by captives.
"I will tell a most curious thing to thee, holiness: When they play on musical instruments to ploughmen, the men and the oxen work better, more quickly, and tire themselves less than when there is no music. All this has been verified at our temples."
The pharaoh smiled.
"I must," said he, "have music on my lands and in the quarries. But if the priests convince themselves of such wonders as Thou art relating, why act as they do on their own estates?"
Pentuer dropped his head.
"Because," replied he, sighing, "not all priests are sages, not all have noble hearts."
"That is it!" exclaimed the pharaoh.
"And now tell me, Thou who art a son of earth tillers, and knowest that among priests there are fools and rioters, tell me, why Thou art unwilling to serve me in a struggle against the priesthood? Thou knowest that I cannot improve the lot of the working man unless first I teach the priests obedience to my orders."
Pentuer wrung his hands.
"O lord," replied he, "a struggle with the priesthood is godless and dangerous. More than one pharaoh began it, and was unable to finish."
"Because he was not supported by sages like thee!" burst out Ramses. "And, indeed, I shall never understand why wise and honest priests bind themselves to a band of rogues, such as the majority of this class are."
Pentuer shook his head and began slowly, "During thirty thousand years the sacred order of priests has nursed Egypt and made the country the wonder of the world, which it is at present. And how have the priests, in spite of their faults, been able to do this? Because they are the lamp in which burns the light of wisdom.
"This lamp may be foul, even malodorous; still it preserves the divine fire, without which darkness and savagery would prevail among people.
"Thou speakest, lord, of a struggle with the priesthood," continued Pentuer. "How can that profit me? If Thou lose I shall be unhappy, for Thou wilt not improve the lot of the worker. And if Thou win? May I not live to that! for shouldst Thou break the lamp, who knows whether Thou wouldst not put out the fire of wisdom which for thousands of years has illuminated Egypt and mankind.
"These, lord, are the reasons why I will not take part in thy struggle with the sacred order of priests. I feel that the struggle is approaching, and I suffer because such a worm as I am unable to prevent it. But I will not participate, for I should have to betray either thee, or the God, the creator of wisdom."
While hearing these words the pharaoh walked up and down the chamber in thought.
"Aa!" said he, without anger, "do as may please thee. Thou art not a warrior, hence I cannot reproach thee with lack of valor. But Thou canst not be my adviser, though I beg thee to form a council to investigate the riots of working men, and, when I summon thee, declare what thy wisdom enjoins."
Pentuer knelt down in taking farewell of his lord.
"In every case," added the pharaoh, "know this, that I have no desire to quench the divine light. Let the priests guard wisdom in their temples, but let them not make my army useless, let them not conclude shameful treaties, and let them not steal," he said this excitedly, "the treasures of the pharaohs.
"Can they think that I will stand at their gates, like a beggar, asking that they deign to give me funds to restore the state which is ruined by their stupid and villainous management? Ha, ha! Pentuer, I should not ask the gods for that which is my power and my right Thou mayst go."
The priest, withdrawing with his face toward the pharaoh, went out backward with obeisance, and when in the doorway he fell with his face on the pavement.
The pharaoh remained alone.
"Mortal men," thought he, "are like children. Herhor is wise: he knows that Egypt in case of war would need half a million of warriors; he knows that those troops need training, and still he has decreased the number of the regiments.
"The chief treasurer also is wise, but it seems to him quite in order that all the treasure of the pharaohs should go to the labyrinth.
"Finally here is Pentuer. What a strange person he is! He wants me to give earth-tillers food, land, and ever-recurring holidays. All this would decrease my income, which even now is insufficient. But if I say to him: help me to take the pharaoh's treasures from the priesthood, he calls that godlessness and the quenching of light in Egypt. Strange man, he would be glad to turn the state bottom upwards, so far as relates to the good of earth tillers, but he would not venture to seize a high priest and lead him forth to prison. With the utmost composure he commands me to renounce half my income, but I am sure that he would not dare to take a copper uten out of the labyrinth."
The pharaoh smiled, and again he meditated.
"Each man wants to be happy himself; but if Thou wish to give happiness to all men, each one will seize thy hand as he would if Thou wert drawing an aching tooth from him.
"Therefore a pharaoh must have decision. Therefore my divine father did ill when he neglected the workers and trusted beyond bounds in the priesthood. He left me a grievous inheritance, but I will improve it.
"At the Soda Lakes there was also a difficult question, more difficult than this one. Here are only gabblers and timid cowards; there stood armed men ready to go to death.
"One battle will open our eyes more widely than tens of years in peaceful management. Whoso says to himself, 'I will burst through this hindrance,' will burst through it. But he who hesitates must yield."
Darkness came. In the palace the watches were changed, and in the remoter halls torches were lighted. But no one dared enter the sovereign's chamber unless commanded.
Ramses, wearied by sleeplessness, by the journey of the day previous, by the occupations of that day, dropped into an armchair. It seemed to him that he had been pharaoh for centuries, and he could not believe that one day had not passed since he had been at the pyramids.
"One day? Impossible!"
Then he thought that perhaps the spirits of the former pharaohs had settled in the heart of their heir. It must be so, for otherwise whence could such a feeling of age or remoteness settle down in him? And why did governing the state seem today a simple thing, while two months before he was alarmed when he thought that he could not govern.
"One day?" repeated he, in spirit. "But I am a thousand years in this palace!"
Suddenly he heard a repressed voice,
"My son! O son!"
The pharaoh sprang up from his chair.
"Who art thou?" exclaimed he.
"I am, I Hast Thou forgotten me already?"
"O my son," said the voice again, "respect the will of the gods if Thou wish to receive their blessed assistance O respect the gods, for without their assistance the greatest power on earth is as dust and shadows O respect the gods if Thou wish that the bitterness of thy faults should not poison my existence in the happy region of the West."
The voice ceased, Ramses ordered to bring a light. One door of the room was closed, at the other a guard stood. No stranger could enter there.
Anger and alarm tore the pharaoh's heart. "What was that? Had the shade of his father spoken indeed to him, or was that voice only a new priestly trick?"
But if the priests, notwithstanding thick walls, could speak to him from a distance, they could overhear him. And then he, the lord of the world, was like a wild beast caged in on all sides.
It is true that in the palace of the pharaoh secret listening was common. Ramses had thought, however, that his cabinet was safe, and that the insolence of priests had stopped at the threshold of the supreme ruler.
"But if that was a spirit?"
He did not wish to sup, but betook himself to rest. It seemed to him that he could not sleep; but weariness won the victory over irritation.
In a few hours bells and a light woke him. It was midnight and the astrologer priest came to make a report on the position of the heavenly bodies. The pharaoh heard the report, and said at the end of it,
"Couldst thou, revered prophet, make thy report to the worthy Sem hereafter? He is my substitute in matters touching religion."
The astrologer wondered greatly at the indifference of his lord to affair? of the heavens.
"Art them pleased, holiness," inquired he, "to refuse those indications which the stars give to rulers?"
"Do they give them?" asked the pharaoh. "Tell what they promise me."
Clearly the astrologer had looked for the question, so he answered directly,
"The horizon is darkened for the moment. The lord of light has not come yet to the road of truth which leads to knowledge of the divine will. But sooner or later he will find both long life and a happy reign filled with glory."
"Aha! I thank thee, holy man. And as soon as I know what to seek I will accommodate myself to the indication. But again I beg thee to communicate henceforth with the holy Sem. He is my substitute, but shouldst Thou read anything in the stars Thou wilt tell me of it in the morning."
The priest left the bedchamber shaking his head.
"They have roused me from sleep!" said Ramses, dissatisfied.
"An hour ago Queen Niort's, most greatly to be revered, commanded me, holiness, to ask of thee an interview," said an adjutant, suddenly.
"Now? At midnight?" asked the pharaoh.
"Her exact words were that at midnight Thou wouldst wake, holiness."
The pharaoh meditated, then answered the adjutant that ha would wait for the queen in the golden hall. He thought that there no one could overhear them.
Ramses threw a mantle over his shoulders, put on sandals unfastened and commanded to light the golden hall brightly. Then he went out, directing the servants not to go with him.
He found Niort's in the hall; she was wearing coarse linen garments in sign that she was mourning. When she saw the pharaoh she wished to drop on her knees, but her son raised the queen and embraced her.
"Has something important happened, mother, that Thou art working at this hour?" inquired Ramses.
"I was not asleep I was praying," replied the queen. "O my son, Thou hast divined wisely that the affair is important. I have heard the sacred voice of thy father."
"Indeed!" said the pharaoh, feeling that anger was filling him.
"Thy ever-living father," continued the queen, "told me, full of sadness, that Thou wert entering on a way of error. Thou refusest with contempt the ordination of high priest, and treatest badly the servants of divinity."
"'Who will remain with Ramses,' said thy father, 'if he angers the gods and the priests desert him? Tell him tell him,' repeated the revered shade, 'that in this way he will ruin Egypt, himself, and the dynasty.'"
"Oho!" said the pharaoh, "then they threaten me thus from the first day of my reign. My mother, a dog barks loudest when he is afraid; so threats are of evil omen, but only for the priesthood."
"But thy father said this," repeated the anxious lady.
"My immortal father and my holy grandfather," said the pharaoh, "being pure spirits know my heart, and see the woeful condition of Egypt. But since my heart wishes to raise the state by stopping abuses they would not prevent me from carrying out my measures."
"Then dost Thou not believe that the spirit of thy father gives thee counsel?" asked the queen, with rising terror.
"I know not. But I have the right to suppose that those voices of spirits, which are heard in various comers of our palace, are some trick of the priesthood. Only priests can fear me, never the gods, and spirits. Therefore it is not spirits which are frightening us, mother."
The queen fell to thinking; it was clear that her son's words impressed her. She had seen many miracles in her life and some of them had seemed to her suspicious.
"In that case," said she, with a sigh, "Thou art not cautious, my son. This afternoon Herhor visited me; he was very much dissatisfied with the audience. He said that it was thy wish to remove the priests from thy court."
"But of what use are priests to me? Are they to cause great outgo in my kitchen and cellar? Or, perhaps, to hear what I say, and see what I do?"
"The whole country will revolt," interrupted the queen, "if the priests declare that Thou art an unbeliever."
"The country is in revolt now. But the priests are the cause of it," replied the pharaoh. "And touching the devotion of the Egyptian people I begin to have another idea. If Thou knew, mother, how many lawsuits there are in Lower Egypt for insults to the gods, and in Upper Egypt for robbing the dead, Thou wouldst be convinced that for our people the cause of the priests has ceased to be holy."
"This is through the influence of foreigners, especially Phoenicians, who are flooding Egypt," cried the lady.
"All one through whose influence; enough that Egypt no longer considers either statues or priests as superhuman. And wert thou, mother, to hear the nobility, the officers, the warriors talk, Thou wouldst understand that the time has come to put the power of the pharaoh in the place of priestly power, unless all power is to fall in this country."
"Egypt is thine," sighed the queen. "Thy wisdom is uncommon, so do as may please thee. But act Thou with caution oh, with caution! A scorpion even when killed may still wound an unwary conqueror."
They embraced and the pharaoh returned to his bedchamber. But, in truth, he could not sleep that time.
He understood clearly that between him and the priesthood a struggle had begun, or rather something repulsive which did not even deserve the name struggle, and which at the first moment he, the leader, could not manage. For where was the enemy? Against whom was his faithful army to show itself? Was it against the priests who fell on their faces before him? Or against the stars which said that the pharaoh had not entered yet on the true way? What and whom was he to vanquish? Was it, perhaps, those voices of spirits which were raised amid darkness? Or was it his own mother, who begged him in terror not to dismiss priests from state offices?
The pharaoh writhed on his bed while feeling his helplessness. Suddenly the thought came to him: "What care I for an enemy which yields like mud in a hand grasp? Let them talk in empty halls, let them be angry at my godlessness. I will issue orders, and whoso will not carry them out is my enemy; against him I will turn courts, police, and warriors."