The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-05-20

Hold on," said Mir. Peasley. How about hal vel gamma ghafar yerafesua bill tareegT
 Mir. Peasley thought he was asking. shall we require guide or an escort in this town?"
 The soldier beckoned to us to come over and help him out.
 "Tell him, please, that am educate at the Presbyterian mission, said ne'
 T speak only English and Arabic" We questioned him later, and learned that he took MT. Peasley to be Rus sian. This one little experience rather discouraged our travelling companion. He said 1t was foolish to waste im- portant dialogue on lot of benighted ignorant who did not know their own language.
 As a matter of fact, English carries | the tourist everywhere in Egypt. The American Mission School, supported by the Presbyterians, is a proud local in- stitution in each good sized town. At every landing along the river small boys from the mission schools would come down to the boat to ask for Eng fish books These requests were sucn a welcome variation from the everlast- ing howl for "baksheesh" that the over generous passengers soon gave away all the reading matter on board and had nothing left for themselves except
 
 silver-haired old lady from Philadel- phia give to a coal-black and half- naked child of 8 a volume O. Brown. ings' poems in paper cover. The dusky infant clasped the book to his bare bosom and shouted his thanks as the boat headed up stream, ard the old lady was so gratifled and happy that she stood looking at him with tear dimmed eyes and never gave thought as to what might happen to his intet- lect. At one town, just as we were casting off, threw an American maga- zine to a handsome little tike who had been asking for English literature. It fell on the dock and twenty small boys began fighting for it and tearing 1t to ! pieces. I never saw such thirst Tor ! advertising matter
 Our voyage from Cairo to Luxor was punctuated with so many new experi- ences that possibly it would be better l to take them in order. Egypt is the land of leisurely travel. If YOU look at the map the distance from css-o TO Luxor seems only a good hop. skip and jump. It is 45s miles by rail and the lightning express does it in fifteen hours. the same being considered re- l cord performance. Our boat left Cairo one Friday afternoon and arrived at Luxor the following Thursday morn- ing. We chugged slowly against the current all the way, tying up every night and getting away before day. | break next morning. Several times we changed pilots. The Nile pilot is usu- l ally a grizzled old sheikh with the | doubtful combination of a department store spring overcoat and a red fez. He stands at the wheel passing the crew, while the ostensible captain or | manager, who Is budding European | in a neat uniform, has nothing much to do except circulate on the upper deck | and pour tea for a little cluster of in- i telIectual giantesses from England. Two sailors stand well forward on the lower | deck, one on each side, jabbing at the | river with poles in order to get the depth of the channel. If the boat runs | into water less than six inches deep they become alarmed and start to yelp. Occasionally the gallant craft strikes a bar and comes to tired pause, where upon all the passengers say 'Mgh. and lurch out of their camp stools. Then there is little welcome excitement and the natives of the crew run around in circles and call upon Allah for tenn porary assistance. With much grunt- ing, both by the boat and the men at | the poles, the good Hatasoo backs out of the mud and takes fresh start, zig zagging through the shallows until deep water is found-that is, a depth of anywhere from three to four feet. The Nile is just as finical and unrelia- ble as a Missouri or Mississippi, the tortuous channel constantly shifting, . and the pilot needs to be an expert with a memory like an encyclopedia.