The linked sweetness of an oriental visit is generally drawn out to a length that sorely tries the patience and politeness of European hosts. A native gentleman, if he has any business to attend to, gets through his work before noon, and has nothing to do but smoke, chat, and doze away the remainder of the day. For time, which hangs heavily on his hands, he has absolutely no value. His main object in life is to consume it, if possible, less tediously. He pays a visit, therefore, with the deliberate intention of staying as long as possible. Our guests on the present occasion remained the best part of two hours; and the governor, who talked of going to England shortly, asked for all our names and addresses, that he might come and see us at home. Leaving the cabin, he paused to look at our roses, which stood near the door. We told him they had been given to us by the Bey of Erment. “Do they grow at Erment?” he asked, examining them with great curiosity. “How beautiful! Why will they not grow in Nubia?” We suggested that the climate was probably too hot for them. He stooped, inhaling their perfume. He looked puzzled. “They are very sweet,” he said. “Are they roses?” The question gave us a kind of shock. We could hardly believe we had reached a land where roses were unknown. Yet the governor, who had smoked a rose-water narghilé and drunk rose-sherbet and eaten conserve of roses all his days, recognized them by their perfume only. He had never been out of Assûan in his life; not even as far as Erment. And he had never seen a rose in bloom. We had hoped to begin the passage of the cataract on the morning of the day following our arrival at the frontier; but some other dahabeeyah, it seemed, was in the act of fighting its way up to Philæ; and till that boat was through, neither the sheik nor his men would be ready for us. At eight o’clock in the morning of the next day but one, however, they promised to take us in hand. We were to pay £12 English for the double journey; that is to say, £9 down; and the remaining £3 on our return to Assûan. Such was the treaty concluded between ourselves and the sheik of the cataract at a solemn conclave over which the governor, assisted by the kadi and mudîr, presided. Having a clear day to spend at Assûan, we of course gave part thereof to Elephantine, which in the inscriptions is called Abu, or the Ivory Island. There may perhaps have been a depôt, or “treasure-city,” here for the precious things of the Upper Nile country; the gold of Nubia and the elephant-tusks of Kush.