Akhmîm is one of the most ancient cities in Egypt, and in fact Leo Africanus says that it is _the_ oldest, having been founded by Akhmîm, the son of Misraim, the offspring of Cush, the son of Ham! It is built upon the site of the ancient Panopolis, the main seat of the worship of Min--the Egyptian god who was identified in Greek days with Pan. Herodotus tells us an extraordinary story which relates how Perseus came to this city while searching for the Gorgon’s head, because he had been told by his mother that it was the place in which his ancestors had dwelt. It is now much fallen from its ancient glory, but it is still a town of some 30,000 inhabitants. It is a peculiarly picturesque place, unspoilt by the introduction of debased European architecture, as are so many Egyptian towns. It is now largely inhabited by Copts (_i.e._, Christians)--a fact that is made apparent by the presence of very filthy pigs which run unchecked about the streets, and which are rather inclined to frighten one’s horses. The houses are well built, and in places pass across the street, so that one rides, as it were, through a tunnel, in the shadow of which the fruit-sellers spread their dates, pomegranates, and melons, upon richly coloured shawls, at the sides of the road. Akhmîm, by the way, is famous for the manufacture of these shawls; and Strabo tells us that in old days the inhabitants were notable manufacturers of linen. There were few people about as we rode through the town, for the natives have a proverb which states that only dogs and Englishmen move abroad in the heat of the day. Nevertheless, we had sudden encounters, rounding sharp corners, with heavily laden camels or sleepy-eyed buffaloes; and once or twice we had to ride with caution through groups of sleeping figures. At the far side of the town we passed a very beautiful mosque, surrounded by a high wall, the doorway in which was ornamented with fine blue tiles. Through it we could see the courtyard with its cool-looking sycamore and place of ablution, and the highly coloured mosque in the background; but our horses were restive, and with this passing glimpse we were off once more along another embanked road leading towards the Eastern Desert, the hills of which now rose before us in the far distance. Again the hot wind beat upon us across the inundation, and once more the full glare of the open day surrounded us.