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"They hate pigs, sir," said Sandy Brown. "When I wis a stoker on a ship gaun East I flung a bit o' fried pork at a coolie. He nearly knocked ma lichts oot wi' a big hammer."
"Yes, pigs are regarded by these fellows as unclean beasts. To offer them pork is, as Brown says, a great insult, so be careful of that.
Another important point is his carpet. This is sacred. He kneels on that and offers up his prayers to Allah. When you walk into his house, don't wipe your feet and spit on it. Give him a chance to remove it.
Can anyone tell me what those buildings in Cairo are with the big domes on them?"
"Harems," piped Bill.
"Chapels," said Doolan.
"No, they are called mosques, or temples. Watch what you do there.
Mohammedans always take off their shoes before entering. Inside is holy ground. If you go into them you must put a pair of shoes over your boots. These are kept for the purpose. Of course, don't walk away with the shoes, or there will be trouble. I have, also, a list here of other things regarded as sacred either in the town or country.
"Trees with rags tied to them.
"Tombs.
"Graveyards.
"Deserted mosques.
"Stones with inscriptions on them.
"Fountains, and
"Isolated clumps of trees on hill tops.
"Be careful, now, of all these things. They look nothing to you, but they are very important to them. You see, we are all Christians--or supposed to be--and a Christian is regarded by them as an infidel and son of a dog.
"Next thing is the ladies. We all love the ladies. What do you know about them?" said the Colonel, suddenly pointing to a grinning youth.
"And very nice too, sir," replied this youngster.
"If it wasn't for their veils," said another.
"Sure, sor, they've always a big, fat n.i.g.g.e.r trotting after them,"
remarked Doolan.
"Yes, Doolan, and be very careful of the big fellow behind. He's what is called a eunuch--a sort of guardian. If you give these ladies the 'glad eye,' or attempt to touch them, he'll probably slit your throat with a razor. These women are veiled to all men except their husbands and nearest relations. Many of them are harem women. Out here, a native can have two or three wives and as many concubines as he likes.
For example, the late Khedive had about a hundred women in his harem, and they say the Sultan of Turkey has over five hundred. Some of these women are very beautiful, others are quite ugly. I heard of one man who followed a veiled lady for about three miles, thinking she was some wonderful Circa.s.sian beauty. He managed to talk to her too, but when she lifted her veil he was dumbstruck. Instead of being young and charming, she was old, haggard, toothless and revolting. All is not gold that glitters, and beauty is not always found beneath the veil.
"Yes, that reminds me, I've been hearing of one or two queer things which they say our fellows have been doing. In a certain part of Cairo the ladies of the harems frequently ride in carriages, taking the evening air. They often drive alone and use their eyes in the most inviting way. Some of our boys have jumped into the carriages and had a most pleasant and interesting drive with these ladies. That's risky, men; don't do it. It may come off ninety-nine times out of a hundred, but on the hundredth occasion it may end in a knife and a bullet. And quite right too. We have no right to interfere with the preserves of an Egyptian Pasha. Now I think that is all I have to say to you just now. Fall out, please."
When the Colonel had departed, the men formed up into little groups and discussed some of the points that had been raised.
"Old Sam's pulling our leg a bit about these holy places. I ain't had any bother, and I've found it quite a paying game digging up these old n.i.g.g.e.rs' bones. Look here, boys, this is what I've found," said Sambo, a big-boned bushman from Queensland, showing Bill and his cronies a handful of old coins, rings and a bracelet.
"Some curios!" said Bill.
"Worth money, too," remarked Sandy.
"Where did you get them?" asked Claud, his interest roused in these wonderful old jewels of the East.
"Down in the Dead City on the other side of Cairo--behind the Citadel.
I dig them up at nights. I can give you a cargo of shin bones and skulls if you want them."
"Is it safe?"
"I reckon so. You see, a lot of these are ancient graves. n.o.body has a claim on them, so we can jump them."
"Do you want some partners?" asked Claud.
"Yes, a few of us could get something. I've had my eye on an old tomb there for some time."
"What about to-night?"
"That will do. Bring your entrenching tools in a parcel, n.o.body sees them. We can get an old cab or motor to go in."
"Right-ho!" agreed Claud, who also arranged with Paddy, Bill and Sandy to form part of the exploring squad. This digging for ancient treasures in the graves of the dead is an old game in Egypt. It is comparatively safe where there are no natives with an interest in the business. And it is really remarkable what interesting finds are made.
Rings, bangles, necklaces, bra.s.sware, beads, and jewels are often found in these old graveyards.
The route to this particular place lay through Cairo. It was already dark when they started on a rattling old motor-car. Down the Mena Road they were whirled into the dazzling streets. The traffic sent the car slower through a long, narrow native quarter. This was lined with dirty shops, selling everything, from mouldy Turkish delight to poisonous-looking firewater called native wine. At the door of these places the proud owners lounged on chairs or squatted on the ground, haggling and dealing with the _fellah_ (the peasant Egyptian, and the finest type in Egypt). In Egypt everybody is in business. You can find merchants dealing in broken bottles, merchants in discarded "f.a.gs," merchants in the manure from the streets, merchants in rags and bones, egg sh.e.l.ls and cabbage stalks. They'll do anything but work.
Work to an Easterner is designed for women and oxen.
Leaving the lighted streets behind, the motor at length turned round into a long, darkened road.
"This is the show," said Sambo, pointing to a wide field of little domes, tombs, and broken-down buildings just visible in the murky light.
"It's a gey queer place," said Sandy, with a tremor in his voice.
"It is, and there's sure to be ghosts in this ould world?" muttered Mick, crossing himself.
"There's diamonds, too--and tons of gold," remarked Claud.
"Paddy, you'll be a rich man after to-night," laughed Sambo.
"If I'm not a dead wan," said the Irishman, who, for the moment had become seized with a dread of the supernatural.
"Well, boys, here we are!" exclaimed the leader of the party as they neared a dark bend of the road. "Jump out!" The car was backed out of sight, and the driver told to wait.
"This way," and into the darkness plunged the Queenslander. They followed close at his heels, stumbling over graves, stones and old enclosures.
"What's that?" screamed Paddy, as he kicked a white-looking thing at his feet.
"It's a skull, man," said Sandy, picking up the bleached headpiece of an ancient.
"Mother of Jasus, preserve us," murmured the Irishman, crossing himself again.
"Now, boys, here we are. Get out your tools and start digging. Here's a little torch to use, now and again, to see what you've got. You fellows can pan out this show here, I'm going over a bit to do some prospecting."