In some places the space is squared off and ruled by the mechanic; in others, the subject is ready drawn within those spaces by the artist. Here the sculptor has carried it a stage farther; yonder the painter has begun to color it. More interesting, however, than aught else at Kalabsheh is the Greek inscription of Silco of Ethiopia.[166] This inscription--made famous by the commentaries of Niebuhr and Letronne--was discovered by M. Gau in A.D. 1818. It consists of twenty-one lines very neatly written in red ink, and it dates from the sixth century of the Christian era. It commences thus: I, Silco, puissant king of the Nubians and all the Ethiopians, I came twice as far as Talmis[167] and Taphis.[168] I fought against the Blemyes,[169] and God granted me the victory. I vanquished them a second time; and the first time I established myself completely with my troops. I vanquished them, and they supplicated me. I made peace with them; and they swore to me by their idols. I trusted them; because they are a people of good faith. Then I returned to my dominions in the Upper Country. For I am a king. Not only am I no follower in the train of other kings, But I go before them. As for those who seek strife against me, I give them no peace in their homes till they entreat my pardon. For I am a lion on the plains, and a goat upon the mountains. Etc. The historical value of this inscription is very great. It shows that in the sixth century, while the native inhabitants of this part of the valley of the Nile yet adhered to the ancient Egyptian faith, the Ethiopians of the south were professedly Christian. The descendants of the Blemmys are a fine race; tall, strong, and of a rich chocolate complexion. Strolling through the village at sunset, we see the entire population--old men sitting at their doors; young men lounging and smoking; children at play. The women, with glittering white teeth and liquid eyes, and a profusion of gold and silver ornaments on neck and brow, come out with their little brown babies astride on hip or shoulder, to stare as we go by. One sick old woman, lying outside her hut on a palm-wood couch, raises herself for a moment on her elbow--then sinks back with a weary sigh and turns her face to the wall. The mud dwellings here are built in and out of a maze of massive stone foundations, the remains of buildings once magnificent. Some of these walls are built in concave courses; each course of stones, that is to say, being depressed in the center and raised at the angles; which mode of construction was adopted in order to offer less resistance when shaken by earthquake.[170]