Year: 1878

1nere is one JnlnP whose ENJOY
ment never ceases, at least with the
writer, the beauty of the atmos-
phere and the sky. Sleep with me
is so coy a dame, not always to be
won by the most gentle and patient
wooing, that l am alive to all the
incidents Of the vessel. Before
sunrise you hear the ropes released
from the shore struggling back to
the ship. You see the torches
flashing up and down the bank,
noting the preparations for depar-
ture. sleep with my cheek almost
against the wide window pane, al.
most on the level of the stream,
and if lam weary of dreaming or
of seeking for dreams, l have only
to open my eyes to see the heavens
in all their glory, the stars and con-
stellations-to see them again, as it
were, embossed on the dark brown
river. You hear the cries of the
sailors at their posts and answering
cries from the shore, and the boat
pulls herself together like a strong
man gathering for a race, and we
are away. You throw open your
window and put your hand in the
water, and feel the current play
with your fingers with almost the
old delight of childhood. The
morning comes over the sands, and
you watch the deep blue of the
night melt into primrose and pearl.
The brown sands of the desert be-
come pale again, and the groves of
date palms become palms in truth,
and not the fancies that almost
startle you during ths night. In
the early morning it is cool, and it
is noon before the sun asserts his
power, and even then 1t is not a
harsh dominion, for we have known
no hour yet when we could not
walk up and down the deck in our
fall garments without discomfort.
Throughout the day there is that
same open sky, the came clear at
mosphere which makes far distant
objects as near as you find them in
Colorado. Sometimes you see them
with wonder in the very heart of
the desert grateful streams of water,
skirted with palm and sheltered by
hills. This is the mirage-one Of
the most frequent phenomena on
the Nile. Sometimes battalion
of clouds will come from the east
and the sight is rare, indeed, and
you cannot know, you who live in
the land of clouds and storm, what
they conceal. l am thinking of one
sunset which / sew an hour or two
ago, before | left our friends on the
deck at their coffee, to do para
graph or so in this wearisome let
ter. The clouds had been follow
ing us all the afternoon, throwing
their heecy canopy over the plains
of Thebes. Not ominous, black
clouds, big with rain and thunder
and bringing awe, but light, trail
ing clouds, over the heavens like
gossamer. There was the desert,
coming almost down to the river,
grudging the Nile even the strip of
green which marked the line of the
telegraph. There was the desert
vast wide, barren-with no vestige
of life beyond a belated peasant
driving his camel, or a flock of
birds hurrying as we came. So
the clouds were a comfort, and we
watched them at their play, CRATE
ful for anything that took our
thoughts from the scene of endless
and irretrievable desolation. Then
as the sun went down there came
the struggle between coming night
and the stern, burning majesty of
the eternal monarch of nature.
The pearls and grays became Grim
son and saffron. The sun shot
forth his power in a burst of light.
There were ridges Of crimson and
gold, luminous and flashing that it
might almost seem to burn and hiss
like flames in a forge. Then came
the tranquil blue-blue of every
shade-eVery conceivable tint Of
blue-Grom that which Murillo
threw into the eyes of the wonder
stricken Madonna in the supreme
moment of her JOY, the deep violet
blue, which tells Of the passion, the
patriotism and the revenge of Ju-
dith. The struggle still went on,
but the victory was not with the
sun, and it only remained for him
to die as became a great king.
The palm grew dim in the shad-
ows. The flaming tints of crimson
and scarlet aud gold became brown
and dark. The desert flushed with
purple-with the purple of wine
and it seemed as If old EgypPs
llinga spoke from the desert that
was once their throne, proelaiming
their sovereignty. All that was
left was the line Of green that had
become black, and the desert that
had become black, and the glorious
gky above, with the glory of con-
qaerpg night and about us this
land OF eternal spWMeE, beautiful
even in death-beautifuI with the
beauty Of death.


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