The Pharaoh and the Priest: An Historical Novel of Ancient EgyptPrus, Bolesław
History
The Pharaoh and the Priest: An Historical Novel of Ancient Egypt
Prus, Bolesław
Egypt -- History -- To 332 B.C. -- Fiction
"Wonders! wonders!" said Rameses, meditating, and throwing himself on
a couch. "My black slave is a valiant warrior and a man full of
judgment. A priest defends a Jewess, because she is mine. What a
strange priest he is! The Egyptian people who kneel down before the
pharaoh's dogs attack the house of the erpatr under direction of
unknown enemies of Egypt. I myself must look into this."
CHAPTER XI
The month Thoth has ended and the month Paofi (the second half of
July) has begun. The water of the Nile, from being greenish and then
white, has become ruddy and is rising continually. The royal indicator
in Memphis is filled to the height of two men almost, and the Nile
rises two hands daily. The lowest land is inundated; from higher
ground people are removing hastily flax, grapes, and cotton of a
certain species. Over places which were dry in the early morning,
waves plash as evening approaches. A mighty, unseen whirlwind seems to
blow in the depth of the Nile. This wind ploughs up broad spaces on
the river, tills the furrows with foam, then smooths for a moment the
surface, and after a time twists it into deep eddies. Again the hidden
wind ploughs, again it smooths out, whirls, pushes forward new hills
of water, new rows of foam, and raises the rustling river, wins
without ceasing new platforms of land. Sometimes the water, after
reaching a certain boundary, leaps across in a twinkle, pours into a
low place, and makes a shining pond where a moment earlier withered
grass was breaking up into dust heaps.
Though the rise of the river has reached barely one third of its
height, the whole region near the banks is under water. Every hour
some little height takes on the semblance of an island, divided from
others by a narrow channel, which widens gradually and cuts off the
house more and more from its neighbors. Very often he who walked out
to work comes home in a boat from his labor.
Boats and rafts appear more and more frequently on the river. From
some of them men are catching fish in nets; on others they bring the
harvest to granaries, or bellowing cattle to their stables. With other
boats visits are made to acquaintances to inform them amid shouts and
laughter that the river is rising. Sometimes boats gather in one
place, like a flock of daws, and then shoot apart on all sides before
a broad raft bearing down from Upper Egypt immense blocks of stone
hewn out in quarries near the river.
In the air, as far as the ear can hear, extend the roar of the rising
water, the cries of frightened birds, and the gladsome songs of
people. The Nile is rising, there will be bread in abundance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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