The Hippopotamus Pool (12 page)

There was little shade. The hills of Drah Abu'l Naga are not precipitous cliffs like certain other sections of the Theban mountains, but ascend more gently to a summit some five hundred feet above the plain. The rugged slopes are pockmarked with dark openings, the entrances to tombs now empty and long abandoned, many filled with rubble and drifted sand. Pale ribbons of paths wind back and forth and up and down, clearly visible against the darker buff of the rock. Emerson shaded his eyes with his hand.

"Those columns south of here belong to the temple of King Sethos I, Nefret. We'll have a look at it another day; there are some features of interest, but it is much later in date than the period with which we are presently concerned. And there"—he pointed toward the place where the hill sloped down to the desert plain—"beyond that spur is the road to the Valley of the Kings."

"Shall we go there?" Nefret asked eagerly. "I have never seen the royal tombs."

"Not today."

I managed to suppress a sigh of relief. I was beginning to be very hungry, and a few sips of tea had not gone far to assuage my thirst.

Emerson took a wad of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. It appeared to be a rough map or plan, and we crowded round him, awaiting explanations. Instead of offering them Emerson said, "Hmph," and walked away.

We trailed after him, Abdullah towing the donkeys. After a short time Emerson stopped. "Hmph," he said again.

"Emerson, do stop grunting and exposit," I exclaimed.

"Hmph?" Emerson stared blankly at me. He went on, as if talking to himself. "There is no proper map. Why the devil doesn't someone make one?"

"Emerson!"

"You needn't shout, Peabody, my hearing is excellent," Emerson said reproachfully. "I am trying to locate the spot in which Mariette found the coffin of Queen Ahhotep. Impossible, I fear, since that bloody idiot—"

"The lady who owned the beautiful jewelry?" Nefret asked. "Was it in her coffin?"

She knew it had been, she was only trying to get Emerson back on track, and I must admit she succeeded better than I might have done.

"Quite right, my dear. You know the story, of course?" Without waiting for her to answer he proceeded to tell it. "It really is one of the most curious incidents in archaeological history. Mariette, that bloody—oh, very well, Peabody, I admit the fellow deserves the credit of founding the Antiquities Department, but the fact is he was more concerned with impressing noble visitors than conducting a proper dig. He was swanking around in Cairo when his unsupervised workmen came across the coffin, with the mummy and the jewelry. Even when he was notified of the discovery he didn't start for Luxor; he wrote a letter, the damned fool, and by the time it arrived, the local governor had got his hands on the coffin and opened it. The mummy was probably in poor condition, like others of the period, so the governor simply pitched the bones and bandages and sent the jewelry off to the Khedive in Cairo. By that time it had finally dawned on Mariette that he might be missing something; he managed to intercept the boat and rescue the jewelry."

"It is a miracle it wasn't stolen," Nefret exclaimed. "How could Mariette have been so stupid? Yet his is one of the great names of Egyptology."

"That sort of thing was only too common fifty years ago," Emerson answered. "Peabody would probably say one is obliged to give one's predecessors credit for what they did accomplish, but how anyone, at any time, could have been so feeble-witted as to suppose that a group of indigent, illiterate workers could resist the temptation . .. Ah, well. The most interesting point about the queen's coffin, and that of King Kamose, which was discovered under similar circumstances a few years earlier, is that both were found, not in proper tombs or tomb chambers, but buried under the rubble and loose scree at the base of these hills. Somewhere in this neighborhood." He gestured. There was certainly no sign of any excavation; the same tumbled rock, the same bare brown slopes stretched out to right and left.

"Thanks to Mariette's ineptitude, we can only guess as to the exact location," Emerson went on. "The mummies and funerary equipment were still in the coffins. Why they were left here instead of being removed to a cache of royal mummies like the one at Deir el Bahri we will never know; but here they remained, safe and forgotten, for three thousand years. Until that moron Mariette—"

"You have made your feelings about the gentleman quite clear, Emerson," I interrupted. "So you believe the original tombs must be close by?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then why ... No, don't tell me. Should we not return to the boat and continue the discussion there?"

"Nonsense, Peabody. It is only half past twelve."

Further debate was halted by the approach of an individual on horseback. I was pleased, though not surprised, to recognize Howard Carter.

"I thought it must be you passing by Deir el Bahri just now," he exclaimed, dismounting and shaking hands all round. "For I heard this morning that you had arrived. Since you did not stop, I set out to track you down."

"I am delighted that you did," I replied. "We were about to return to the dahabeeyah. Won't you join us for luncheon?"

He was easily persuaded, and Nefret was even more easily persuaded to mount his horse. She had learned to ride the previous year and a pretty picture she made, her slim brown hands light on the reins and tendrils of red-gold hair curling over her temples. Howard insisted on walking alongside her, though I assured him it was unnecessary. Nefret had an uncanny rapport with animals of all species, including the human. Howard, who had only met her once before, was instantly at ease with her.

"I took up my duties on January first," he explained, after I had congratulated him on his appointment. "But my new house is not yet ready, so M. Naville has most generously allowed me to stay at the expedition house of the Egypt Exploration Fund."

"Hmph," said Emerson, whose relations with M. Naville (like his relations with most archaeologists) were not of the most cordial. Before he could enlarge on his opinions of the gentleman I said, "It will be a great responsibility, Howard, and you will have a great deal to do."

"More than one man reasonably can, I fear," Howard admitted. "But M. Maspero was good enough to assure me that I have his full confidence and support. He has just been here, you know. What a pity you missed him by only a few days."

"Isn't it," said Emerson.

"The territory is enormous," I said. "And your duties include, I believe, not only conservation and protection of the monuments but excavation and supervision of other excavations."

"Not your excavations," Howard said with a smile. "You certainly do not require supervision from anyone, much less me. But please let me know if I can be of assistance in any way. Is it to be the Seventeenth Dynasty cemetery this season?"

The subject occupied us until we reached the
Amelia,
where Abdullah and Daoud left us. Emerson interrupted his lecture long enough to present Miss Marmaduke, who was waiting in the saloon. She had finished sorting Emerson's papers and asked what she should do next.

"If you have no duties for me this afternoon, I thought I might take a little walk," she said hesitantly. "I am so anxious to see the wonderful temples and the Colossi."

"You have been here before, though, haven't you?" I asked. "On the Cook's Tour?"

"Yes—yes, of course. I meant, see them again. The tours do not give one much time."

"Good heavens, Emerson, what a slave-driver you are," Howard said with a laugh. "An ardent student of Egypt who has not been allowed to explore? Insist on your rights, Miss Marmaduke. You will find Mrs. Emerson a strong supporter."

"Leave off inspiring my staff to mutiny, Carter," growled Emerson.

Howard, who knew him well, only grinned, but Gertrude cried out, "Oh, sir, I did not mean—"

"Then you should learn to say what you mean. You won't get anywhere in this group by beating around the bush." But his irresistible smile and the softening of his keen blue eyes brought an answering smile and an even softer look to Gertrude's face. Curse it, I thought, if Emerson goes on in this way he may find himself in an extremely embarrassing situation.

Do not suppose for a moment, Reader, that I was jealous. Jealously is an emotion I despise, and anyhow, it was obvious that Emerson had not the slightest interest in poor Gertrude.

It was agreed that we would escort Howard back to Deir el Bahri after luncheon and then show Gertrude some of the sights of Thebes. It would not have been sensible to let her go off on her own, for she had not the strength of character to resist beggars, importunate donkey drivers and antika sellers, and Howard's jesting remark had made me realize we had rather neglected her. I still had no proof that Gertrude was a spy and an enemy; if my suspicions were in error we owed her the same courteous treatment any employee should receive.

That settled, Emerson turned the conversation to the subject that was his real concern. He thought he was being subtle, but it is impossible for Emerson to deceive me.

"I trust that among your other projects you mean to stamp out the trade in illegal antiquities," was how he began.

Howard glanced at me. I gave him an encouraging nod, which emboldened him, I believe, to venture an opinion that, though correct, was bound to irritate Emerson. "Professor, you know as well as I do that it is impossible under present conditions. I will attempt as best I can to thwart or arrest tomb robbers and illicit diggers, but once the stolen antiquities reach the dealers, there is little I can do. They always claim they didn't know the objects were acquired illegally, and I can hardly demand the arrest of the ones who are consular agents for foreign governments."

"True," I said sympathetically. "Nor can you arrest the foreign collectors who buy from the dealers."

"Arrest?" Howard looked horrified. "Good heavens, no; what a scandal that would cause! It isn't only private citizens, but officials of certain museums. I name no names, you understand."

"Why the devil not?" Emerson demanded. "We all know you are referring to Budge. He is not the only offender, but he is certainly the worst. Confront the swine. Tell him—"

"Emerson," I exclaimed. "You must not say such things. Howard, pay no attention. You will only get yourself in trouble if you follow my husband's example. Tact, my dear Howard. You must be tactful."

"Well, of course," Emerson said virtuously. "That is my method. Tact, subtle persuasion."

"Such as calling Mr. Budge a rascal and threatening to knock him flat?"

Howard's long chin quivered as he strove to repress his amusement, but when he spoke it was with utter sincerity. "Professor, your forthright manners and absolute integrity have been an inspiration to us all. A man might do worse than to emulate you. I want you to know—that is, I am well aware that I owe this appointment in large part to you and Mrs. Emerson. Your influence with M. Maspero—"

"Nonsense," said Emerson gruffly.

"But, sir—"

"Let us hear no more about it." Emerson reached for his pipe. "Has anything unusual turned up on the market lately?"

"There is always something," Howard said wryly. "As a rule I don't hear of it until it has been purchased by a collector."

Emerson gestured impatiently. "Be specific."

"Well... I suppose there is no reason why I shouldn't tell you. Recently a wealthy American tourist showed me a number of objects he had purchased in Luxor. They made me wonder whether some rich and important tomb had not been discovered. Please," he added hastily, seeing Emerson's expression, "don't ask me for the gentleman's name. I am hoping to interest him in supporting our work here and I would not like him to be—er— discouraged."

"You mean threatened," I said, while Emerson sputtered indignantly. "We will not press you for the gentleman's name, Howard, but there can be no objection to your telling us where he acquired the artifacts, can there?"

"I can deny you nothing, Mrs. Emerson. He bought them from Ali Murad. As the American consular agent, Murad feels himself secure. You won't get anything out of him."

"You think not?" Emerson bared his teeth. The expression was certainly not a smile.