The Master of Aberfeldie, Volume 3 (of 3)Grant, James
General
The Master of Aberfeldie, Volume 3 (of 3)
Grant, James
Fiction
On the 22nd of the month the Black Watch left Belbeis for Grand
Cairo, where the corps arrived in the evening, when the last rays of
the setting sun tinted with the hue of blood and saffron the water of
the Nile as it wound past the islets near El Ghizeh--flushed and red,
as on the evening when, in long ages past, according to Mohammedan
legends, Joseph sank Jacob's marble coffin in the stream; and it was
with no ordinary emotion of admiration and interest that Allan and
his comrades beheld the capital of Egypt basking in the sun ere he
went down beyond the hills.
'Skirted by groves and gardens,' says a writer, 'its light airy
structures seem to be based upon a mass of verdure; long lines of
buildings, white, glittering, and infinitely varied in form, rise
beyond each other, and the palace and citadel, cresting a steep
projection of the Mokattam ridge, conduct the eye to the vast rocky
barrier which protects "the victorious city" from the blasts of the
desert.'
Streets of lofty and latticed houses abounding in carved balconies
and florid arcades; the mosques, with delicate domes and airy
minarets, covered with tracery and arabesques; the houses of beys and
grandees; the fortified abodes of the stern old Mamelukes, now those
of Egyptian nobles, recalling in their architecture the Moorish
glories of the Alhambra and the Alcazar of Cordova--a perpetual dream
of the Arabian Nights.
Even with night the bustle in its streets did not cease; the
coffee-houses and hotels were filled with light, and, in the warm
atmosphere, teemed with outdoor life, for there all who are afoot
have lanterns, and there were the tellers of Arabian tales, the
Nubian singer with his mandolin, and the Egyptian magician performing
such tricks as one might think the devil alone could do; and now once
again, as in the days of General Hutchison, the walls and towers of
'the Queen of Cities'--El Kahira of the fatalistic caliphs--re-echoed
to the British drum and the Scottish warpipe, as the Highlanders
defiled round it to their camp, where the tents were pitched outside
the walls.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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