CHAPTER XII. 



OUR STATIONS ON THE NILE. 



T 



HE Nile ! What a marvellous 



panorama the name conjures 



up ! A nation arising out of 



pre-historic haze, flourishing for 



thousands of years, disappearing for 



ever ! The vanished splendour of the 



Pharaohs, the lost lore of the Egyptians, 



the hidden mysteries of the Pyramids ! 



A babe cradled on its bosom, destined 



to become the Lawgiver of the world, 



whose divinely-inspired message, "Thou 



shalt love the Lord thy God, and thou 



shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," 



sounds through all eternity ! 



sHULi NATIVES. Recalling the stupendous structures 



erected by the mighty race which the 



hand of Fate has swept away, and glancing at the puny fort 



at Fovira, the river might apply to us Byron's lines : — 



" Creatures of clay — vain dwellers in the dust ! 

 The moth survives you, and are ye more just ? 

 Things of a day ! you wither ere the night, 

 Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light ! " 



Seen from the fort at Fovira, the huge expanse of water 

 might be taken for a tranquil lake, for there is not a sound to 

 betray the motion. But the resistless current which is ever 

 sweeping onward becomes apparent by the islands floating past. 

 Noiselessly and swiftly they glide into view and pass out of 

 sight. Relentless as Fate, silent as death, ceaseless as time, the 

 ancient river ptirsues its majestic course. 



i8i 



