Egypt -- Fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Short stories
At any rate, I had forgotten his iron framework and mahogany
countenance, together with his response (under the afflatus of
heather-dew) at the time of which I am now speaking.
A little matter had cropped up which touched me on a weak spot; and
with a mob of jabbering Egyptians and one very placid Bedouin flooding
my room, I found myself thinking again of Dunlap and envying him his
intimate acquaintance with Arabic.
Although I had been in the country quite twice as long as Dunlap, my
Arabic was far from perfect, for I have always been a rotten linguist.
Dunlap, as I now remembered, might have passed for a native (excepting
his Scottish headpiece), and I ascribed his proficiency to an inherent
trick of mimicry. There was something of the big ape about him; and
after one function at which we both were present, I remember how he
convulsed the entire club with an imitation of a certain highly placed
Egyptian dignitary, voice and gesture being equal in comic effect to
Cyril Maude at his best. In fact, if you notice, you will find that
the best linguists, as a rule, have a marked apish streak in their
composition.
Well, here was I at my wits' ends to grasp twenty points of view at
one and the same time; no two expressed in quite the same dialect,
and each orator more excited than another. You know the brutes?
That got me thinking of Dunlap, and even after the incident was
closed, I found myself thinking of him. Some friends from home were
staying at Shepheard's, and of course they had claimed me as dragoman;
not that I objected in the least, for one of the party--when it was
possible to dodge her mother--was, well, a very agreeable companion,
you understand.
On this particular morning we were doing the bazaars. I have found by
comparison that the average tourist knows far more of the Mûski than
the average resident; in the same way, I suppose that for information
regarding the Tower of London or the British Museum, one must go, not
to a Cockney, but to an American visitor. At any rate, my party told
me more than I could tell them, and my job degenerated into that of
a mere interpreter. In the matter of purchases, I possibly saved them
money, but their knowledge of the wares was miles ahead of my own.
These up-to-date guide books must be very useful reading, I think.
Although I had tried hard to rush them past that dangerous quarter,
the _Gôhargîya_, the ladies of the party had discovered a shop where
little trays of loose gems, turquoises, rubies, bits of lapis-lazuli,
and so forth, were displayed snarefully.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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