The ritual of the temple was somewhat similar to several other oracular temples. The actual oracle was made in human figure, with a ram’s head, richly ornamented with emeralds and other precious stones. The figure of the god appears to have been shown as though wrapped for burial, and this dead god, who was a god of prophecy, may possibly have set the fashion of menes-worship which one still sees in Siwa when natives resort to the graves of their ancestors in order to learn the future. When a distinguished pilgrim arrived for a consultation the symbol of the god was brought up from the inmost sanctuary of the temple and carried on a golden barque, hung with votive cups of silver, followed by a procession of eighty priests and many singing girls, “who chanted uncouth songs after the manner of their country,” in order to propitiate the deity and induce him to return a satisfactory answer. The god directed the priests who carried the barque which way they should proceed, and spoke by tremulous shocks, communicated to the bearers, and by movements of the head and body, which were interpreted by the priests. [Illustration: RUINS OF “OMM BEYDA” THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON] Those spaces among the palm groves at Aghourmi must have witnessed in ancient days many a splendid spectacle. One can imagine the magnificent ceremonies and the awe-inspiring rites which were solemnized among the shady vistas of tall palm trees, in the shadow of the great temple on the rock, the processions of chanting priests, the savage music of conches and cymbals, and the gorgeous caravans of Eastern monarchs, carrying offerings of fabulous treasure to lay before the mystic oracle of the oasis, whose infallible answers were regarded by the whole world with profound respect. In those days caravans from the West, and from the savage countries of the Sudan, brought slaves and merchandize to Siwa, and the barbarian followers of African chieftains mingled with the courtiers of Eastern potentates, and gazed with awe on the white-robed priests and the troops of pale singing girls. To-day the people of Aghourmi build their fires against the great crumbling archways that gave access to the holiest altar of Ammonium, and shepherds graze their flocks among the ruins of the smaller temple. “The Oracles are dumb No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.”