The Last Camel Died at Noon (13 page)

'Piffle, Peabody. He probably fainted - it seems to be a habit of his - fell off the camel, and landed on his head. Naturally he would be embarrassed to admit it.'

'But then there would have been a bruise, Emerson.'

Emerson requested that we end the discussion, and reinforced the request by a series of gestures that rendered further conversation on my part inappropriate, if not impossible.

Despite a somewhat disturbed night Emerson was up betimes the following morning. I was awakened by his precipitate departure from our tent, and by his stentorian voice summoning the men to work. Knowing full well that his primary aim was to rouse Reggie and test that unfortunate young man's powers of endurance to the limit, I lingered over my cup of tea, enjoying the exquisite blush of the eastern sky as the stars faded, yielding their lesser light to the glorious lord of day.

The morning air was cool enough to make a wool shirt welcome, but by early afternoon, when Emerson called a temporary halt, we had all shed as many garments as modesty permitted. Reggie had held up better than I expected. To be sure, he had very little to show for his morning's work.

'It will take a while to familiarise yourself with the terrain and with our methods,' I said.

Reggie laughed. 'You are too kind, Mrs Emerson. The truth is, I was too fascinated by what you and the professor are doing to concentrate on my own tasks. Tell me...' And he went on to pepper me with questions. What did we hope to find? Why were we digging so slowly and laboriously by hand instead or battering our way into the pyramids ?

If he really wanted information, he got more than he bargained for. Emerson simply rolled his eyes and shrugged, in indication that he found Reggie's state of ignorance too abysmal to be capable of improvement, but Ramses was always ready to lecture.

'The goal of proper excavation, Mr Forthright, is not treasure but knowledge. Any scrap of material, no matter how insignificant, may supply an essential clue to our understanding of the past. Our primary purpose here is to establish the original plan and, if possible, the relative chronology...'

Und so weiter, as the Germans say. After a while Reggie threw up his hands, laughing heartily. 'That's enough for one day, Master Ramses. I don't think I am cut out for archaeology after all. But I am ready to resume work whenever you say, Professor.'

'We don't work during the hottest part of the day,' I informed him. 'You had better rest while you can. If you are ready to retire to your tent, I will accompany you; I may be able to make a few suggestions that will render your situation more comfortable.'

My real aim was to meet his servants and ascertain how they were getting on with the other men, and to inspect his camels. I took it for granted that they would be in need of attention. The campsite was some distance from ours, to the north of the ruins of the largest pyramid. Compared to our own modest quarters, Reggie's were positively palatial. The tent was large enough to accommodate several people, and every possible comfort had been supplied, from rugs upon the sandy floor to a folding bathtub.

'Good heavens,' I exclaimed. 'What, no champagne glasses?'

'Not even champagne,' said Reggie with a laugh. 'However, brandy travels well, I believe; I hope you and the professor will join me in a glass after dinner tonight.'

The camels were in need of my attention - which was not surprising, considering the loads they had carried. Reggie's servants looked on with ill-concealed derision as I applied ointment to the festering sores on the poor beasts' sides, but their grins disappeared when I addressed them in forcible and idiomatic Arabic. There were four of them, three Nubians and an Egyptian, a native of the Thebaid, who answered (like about half his countrymen) to the name of Ahmed. When I asked him what he was doing so far from home, he said, 'The Effendi offered much money, Sitt. What is a poor man to do?'

Reggie decided he did not need a rest, and followed me back to my tent. He was as cheerful and eager to please as a large, clumsy dog, so I allowed him to help me with the accounts. The men were to be paid that evening. We kept separate pay sheets for each individual, since the amount they earned depended upon the number of hours worked plus extra for each important discovery. 'By paying the fair market value for artifacts, we remove the incentive to theft, 'I explained, adding wryly, 'Unfortunately, thus far we have had to pay very little extra.'

'The site does appear to have been thoroughly ransacked,' Reggie agreed, with a disparaging glance at the tumbled piles of stone that had once been pyramids. 'How much longer will you stay here if nothing of value turns up?'

'You still don't understand, Reggie. It is knowledge, not treasure, we seek. At the rate we are going, it will take the entire season to finish here.'

'I see. Well, this appears to be the last memorandum, Mrs Emerson. The men will be off to their villages this evening, I presume; do you and the professor stay here, or are you going to the encampment?'

After considerable discussion and a good deal of profane and fruitless argument, Emerson had finally agreed to let the men leave early so they could reach their homes before dark, providing they returned the following evening. I explained this to Reggie, adding that I had planned to visit the market in Sanam Abu Dom next day to purchase fresh vegetables and bread. 'But if you are going, Reggie, you could shop for me and save me the trip.'

A shadow crossed the young man's smiling face. 'I must go, Mrs Emerson. Having beheld the vast and threatening face of the desert, I begin to realise how fruitless my quest must prove, but...'

'Yes, of course. I will give you a list this evening, then. I uegest you wait until morning; travel after dark is fraught with perils.

'You need not argue that,' Reggie replied. His hand went to the neat bandage I had applied to the cut on his brow, and he glanced over his shoulder at Kemit, who was resting in the shade nearby. 'I suppose it could not have been that fellow who attacked me, but I swear to you, Mrs Emerson, it was a man so like him it might have been his twin. What do you know of him?'

'His village, which was destroyed by the Dervishes, is south of here. He was not more precise; as you know, Western notions of distance and geography are unknown to these people.'

'You trust him, then?' Reggie's voice had dropped to a whisper.

'You need not lower your voice, he only understands a few words of English. As for trusting him, why should I not? He and his friends have worked faithfully and diligently.'

'Why is he staring at us?' Reggie demanded.

'He is looking, not staring. Come now, Reggie, admit that your suspicions of Kemit are unjust and unfounded. You couldn't have got a good look at your assailant, since by your own account you didn't realise anything was wrong until the missile struck you.'

After a few more hours of work, Emerson called a halt and summoned the men to the table where I sat ready to hand out their wages. 'Curse it,' he remarked, taking a seat at my side, 'we must think of another arrangement, Peabody. They are so anxious to get away, they haven't done a bloo - blooming thing all afternoon.'

'The only alternative is to return to our original plan of letting them leave early Friday morning,' I replied.

Then they will have to return Friday night,' Emerson declared. 'Otherwise they won't be here until mid-morning on Saturday and will complain that they are too tired after their long walk to put in a good day's work.'

At least the men did not linger to argue about the amount of their pay; they were anxious to be safe at home before the dread demons of darkness came out of hiding. As they dispersed I closed the account book and remarked, 'Supper tonight will be out of tins, gentlemen; cooking is not an activity at which I excel or in which I care to do so.'

'My servant Ahmed is an excellent cook,' Reggie said. 'It was one of the skills for which I selected him. Perhaps you will all do me the honour of being my guests at dinner this evening.'

I accepted with proper expressions of appreciation. After Reggie had gone off to his tent, Emerson remarked sourly, 'It wouldn't surprise me to see him turn out in full evening kit. I warn you, Amelia, if he does I will go and dine with Kemit.'

'Mr Forthright brought a considerable quantity of luggage,' said Ramses, sitting cross-legged at my feet. 'In addition to a revolver, he has two rifles and quantities of ammunition as well as -'

'He probably plans to do some hunting,' I replied, thinking it best not to ask Ramses how he knew of these facts.

'Should that be the case, I will feel myself obliged to remonstrate,' said Ramses in his stateliest manner.

'Just so you don't run into the line of fire, as you have been known to do,' I said sternly. 'You spend far too much time interfering in other people's business, Ramses. Come and give me a hand; there are several hours of daylight left and I want to have a closer look at those small piles of debris south of number four. I suspect they may have been queens' tombs - for even in Gush, where women enjoyed considerable power, the ladies were shortchanged in the matter of pyramids.'

Emerson decided to join us, and we spent a most enjoyable hour poking around the rubble and arguing about where the burial chambers might be. Ramses, of course, had to disagree with me and his father. 'We cannot assume,' he claimed, 'that because the burial chambers in Egyptian pyramids were, for the most part, under the superstructure, that such was the case here. Remember Ferlini's description of the chamber in which he found the jewellery that is now in the Berlin Museum - '

'Impossible,' I exclaimed. 'Lepsius agrees with me that Ferlini must have made a mistake. He was no archaeologist -'

'But he was there,' said Ramses. 'Herr Lepsius was not. And with all due respect, Mama - '

'Hmmm, yes,' Emerson said quickly. 'But, my boy, even if Ferlini did find a burial chamber in the upper portions of one pyramid, that could have been an exception to the general rule.'

His attempt at compromise failed, as such efforts generally do. 'Nonsense!' I exclaimed.

'That is not the point, Papa, if you will excuse me,' said Ramses.

The debate continued to rage as we walked back to our tents. Few families, I venture to assert, share so many agreeable interests as ours, and the freedom and candour with which we communicate our opinions to one another only adds to our mutual pleasure.

I had brought along one good frock just in case - for one never knows when one may encounter persons of a superior social status. It was a simple evening dress of eau-de-Nil spotted net, the bodice cut low and square, the skirt flounced, with pink silk roses trimming the flounces and the short puffed sleeves. By allowing Emerson the privilege, which he much enjoys, of buttoning me into the frock, I managed to persuade him to wear a jacket and change his boots for proper shoes, but he refused to wear a cravat, claiming that he had taken up archaeology as a career primarily because a cravat was not part of the official costume for that profession. However, as I had to admit when he pressed me, Emerson's personal appearance is so striking that the absence of a particular article of clothing does not diminish the effect in the least.

I then went in search of Ramses, for it was safe to assume he would wash only the parts of him that showed. As I trailed my eau-de-Nil flounces across the sandy ground, wincing as pebbles pressed through the thin soles of my evening slippers, I could almost have wished that Emerson had not placed the boy's little tent so far from our own. His reasons for doing so were excellent, however, and on the whole the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages. (Even in the light of what happened soon afterwards I maintain that opinion.)

Ramses had not washed even the parts that showed. He was perched on a campstool in front of the packing case that served as desk and table combined. It was littered with scraps of paper and he was busily scribbling in the battered clothbound notebook that accompanied him everywhere.

He greeted me with his usual punctilious courtesy, more becoming a grave old gentleman than a little boy, and begged for another minute of delay so that he could finish his notes.

'Oh, very well,' I said. 'But you must hurry. It is rude to be late when one is invited to dine. What notes are those, that are so important?'

'A dictionary of the dialect spoken by Kemit and his friends. The spelling is, of necessity, phonetic; I am using the system derived from -'

'Never mind, Ramses. Just make haste.' Looking over his shoulder I saw that he had arranged the vocabulary by parts of speech, leaving several pages for each. None of the words was familiar to me, but then my knowledge of the Nubian dialects was extremely limited. I was happy to observe that Kemit's instruction had not included any words to which I could take exception, with the possible exception of a few nouns applying to certain portions of human anatomy.

When Ramses had finished he offered me his campstool, which I took outside, lowering the tent flap as I left. Several years earlier Ramses had requested the privilege of privacy when he performed his ablutions or changed his clothing. I was perfectly happy to accede to this request, for washing small dirty squirming boys had never been a favourite amusement of mine. (The nurserymaid in charge of Ramses at the time had made no objection either.)

I had asked Emerson to join us when he was ready, so I was content to wait; the sunset was particularly brilliant that evening, a blaze of gold and crimson that contrasted exquisitely with the deepening azure of the zenith. Against this tapestry of living light the jagged contours of the pyramids stood out in dark outline, and as any thoughtful individual might do, I mused upon the vanity of human aspiration and the brevity of human passions. Once this tumbled wilderness had been a holy place, adorned with every beautiful and good thing (as the ancients expressed it). Chapels built of carved and painted stone served each stately monument; white-robed priests hastened about their duties, bearing offerings of food and treasure to be placed upon the altars of the royal dead. As the shadows deepened and the night crept across the sky, I heard the soft rush of beating wings. Was it the human-headed soul bird, the ba of some long-vanished pharaoh, returning to partake of food and drink from his chapel? No. It was only a bat. The poor ba would have starved long ages ago if it had depended on the offerings of its priests.