The Cat of Bubastes: A Tale of Ancient EgyptHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Cat of Bubastes: A Tale of Ancient Egypt
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction
So saying he crossed the open space, and entering a thick bush beyond
the cat house, dug a deep hole; then he went into the house. Although
having no belief whatever in the sacredness of one animal more than
another, he had yet been long enough among the Egyptians to feel a
sensation akin to awe as he entered and saw lying upon the ground the
largest of the cats pierced through by Chebron’s arrow.
Drawing out the shaft he lifted the animal, and putting it under his
garment went out again, and entering the bushes buried it in the hole
he had dug. He leveled the soil carefully over it, and scattered a few
dead leaves on the top.
“There, no one would notice that,” he said to himself when he had
finished; “but it’s awfully unlucky it’s that cat of all others.”
Then he went in, carefully erased the marks of blood upon the floor,
and brought out the shaft, took it down to the pond and carefully
washed the blood from it, and then returned to Chebron.
“Is it--” the latter asked as he approached. He did not say more, but
Amuba understood him.
“I am sorry to say it is,” he replied. “It is horribly unlucky, for
one of the others might not have been missed. There is no hoping that
now.”
Chebron seemed paralyzed at the news.
“Come, Chebron,” Amuba said, “it will not do to give way to fear; we
must brave it out. I will leave the door of the cat house open, and
when it is missed it will be thought that it has escaped and wandered
away. At any rate, there is no reason why suspicion should fall upon
us if we do but put a bold face upon the matter; but we must not let
our looks betray us. If the worst comes to the worst and we find that
suspicions are entertained, we must get out of the way. But there will
be plenty of time to think of that; all that you have got to do now is
to try and look as if nothing had happened.”
“But how can I?” Chebron said in broken tones. “To you, as you say, it
is only a cat; to me it is a creature sacred above all others that I
have slain. It is ten thousand times worse than if I had killed a
man.”
“A cat is a cat,” Amuba repeated. “I can understand what you feel
about it, though to my mind it is ridiculous. There are thousands of
cats in Thebes; let them choose another one for the temple. But I
grant the danger of what has happened, and I know that if it is found
out there is no hope for us.”
“You had nothing to do with it,” Chebron said; “there is no reason why
you should take all this risk with me.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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