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"It is well,"

the King of Shendy, received him hospitably, as Mahmoud, our dragoman, informed us, and, when he was seated in his tent, waited on him to learn his pleasure. "My pleasure is," replied the invader," that you forthwith furnish me with slaves, cattle, and money, to the value of 100,000 dollars."-" Pooh!" said Nemmir, "you jest; all my country could not produce what you require in one hundred moons :"-the young Pasha, indignant at the tone or purport of the reply, struck the Tiger across the face with his pipe, had he done so to his namesake of the jungle, the insult could not have roused fiercer feelings of revenge, but the human animal did not show his wrath at once. he replied, "let the Pasha rest, to-morrow he shall have nothing more to ask." The Egyptian, and the few Mameluke officers of his staff, were tranquilly smoking towards evening, entertained by some dancing-girls whom the Tiger had sent to amuse them; when they observed that a huge pile of dried stalks of Indian corn was rising rapidly round the tent. "What means this?" inquired Ismael angrily; "am not I Pasha ?"—" It is but forage for your highness's horses," replied the Nubian, "for, were your troops once arrived, the people would fear to approach the camp." Suddenly, the space is filled with smoke, the tent-curtains shrivel up in flames, and the Pasha and his comrades find themselves encircled in what they well know is their funeral pyre. Vainly the invader implores mercy, and assures the Tiger of his warm regard for him and all his family; vainly he endeavors to break through the fiery fence that girds him round; a thousand spears bore him back into the flames, and the Tiger's triumphant yell and bitter mockery mingled with his dying screams.

The Egyptians perished to a man: Nemmir escaped up the country, crowned with savage glory, and married the daughter of a king, who soon left him his successor, and the Tiger still defies the old Pasha's power. The latter, however, took a terrible revenge upon his people: he burnt all the inhabitants of the village nearest to the scene of his son's slaughter, and cut off the right hands of five hundred men besides. So much for African warfare.

I shall only add one more Ethiopian anecdote, of a different species of romance, and then return to my task.

About a hundred years ago, there lived a shepherd youth of great beauty and endowments; but, as he seemed condemned to pine in an obscure and lonely life, the courage, wit, and ambition that burnt within him, were wasted on the sheep and goats. A wise old woman, in his childhood, had foretold that he should one day become great, and, supported by that hope, he had lived on until he had almost learnt to do without it. One day he was sitting on the bank of a lonely lake among the mountains, and gazing on the still waters, that reminded him of the Eastern apologue; "It is only the calm waters that reflect heaven in their breast;" when he observed an eddy near him, whereby the lake seemed struggling to escape. He cast in his staff, which instantly disappeared; and then, impelled by some instinct, he heaved a huge mass of rock into the troubled waters, which thereupon grew calm. Shortly afterwards, the lake began to rise, and at length overflowed into a desert ravine. The shepherd returned to his tent, musing on what he felt was an event of important omen; but time wore on, and he was still a shepherd. Then there came among his people ambassadors from a far country down in the plains, saying, "The waters of our val ley are dried up, and the king will give his daughter and half his kingdom to him who will restore them; for a staff has been found in the dried water-course, and it is such, they say, as the men of these mountains use." Then went the young shepherd to the king, restored his river, and obtained his daughter and his throne in return. Such is even the legendary value of water in these "lands of the sun."

The trade from Abyssinia down the Nile is very trifling; the principal exports are indigo, ivory, hides, and slaves.

The Pasha has garrisons at Shenda, Dongola, Sennaar, and Khartoun, in Nubia. The latter owes its creation to his army. It is modern, of course, well built, and beautifully situated at the confluence of the Blue and White Rivers. A Greek mer. chant, who had been physician to the forces there, told me the Blue River was by far the most rapid, and also contained the sweetest water; which renders it probable that it retains purity and momentum from a mountain descent, which the White River is unconscious of.

Besides Meröe, there are magnificent ruins, and sorne pyramids at El Birkel, Solib, and Semneh, within twenty days' journey from Assouan.

After these slight prospective and retrospective digressions, I return to my tour.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CATARACT AND PHIL.

Syene's rocks are far behind,

And thy green banks, sweet Isle of Flowers;
And thine, Shehayl! whose children's laugh
Rings merrily through the date-tree bowers,
That erst, mysterious rites concealing,
O'ershadowed silent Pharaoh's kneeling.

LORD LINDSAY.

AT Assouan, we gave a feast and a day of rest to our crew, after their twenty-six days' labor, almost without intermission. Their banquet consisted of a ram, as usual, which appeared to have been domesticated by its late owner; for it rubbed its old horny head affectionately against the knees of its butcher, as he turned its forehead toward Mecca, and pronounced the name of Allah whilst he used his knife. The poor brute was skinned in less time than a lady would take off her glove, cut up like a young chicken, plunged into water that was boiling on acacia branches, and had disappeared utterly in almost as short a time as it takes to tell it. Then its devourers betook themselves to their interminable music, to the tune of which they exhibited dances that were anything but edifying. The villagers sat round them in a ring, a self-constituted audience; while their naked little children ran about playing hide and seek behind them, with as much concealment as was practicable where drapery did not abound.

The Isle of Flowers, opposite, is inhabited by Nubians: three hundred yards of water separate two people utterly dissimilar in language, character, and feature. Here, is the thieving, cowardly, cunning Egyptian; there, the honest, bold, simple Nubian; each despising and pitying the other-such is patriotism.

What a problem does this tendency to identify ourselves with the land that gave us birth afford! This "fortunate fallacy," as a distinguished political economist designates it, which, running through the long predicamental line of family, tribe, country, province, nation, is binding among men, who would disregard the happiness of any individual composing it. Whatever philosophers may say, however, it belongs to the best instincts of fallen humanity, and, like filial affection, is found as influential among these poor tyrant-ridden savages, as among the snowy wastes of the Esquimaux, or the Senate of Great Britain.

One of our crew was a very intelligent, good-tempered boy, about sixteen years of age, who seemed to consider the prospect of an adventure the most irresistible temptation, and was as proud of any little article of dress as a woman-child. R. proposed to take him to Syria as his pipe-bearer, and told him he should have a horse, and silk sash, and pistols. The boy's eyes glistened as he heard these glories recapitulated; then, suddenly his countenance fell, and with tears he replied-" Very good, very grand; but I cannot leave my mother." And so he went back to his hard life, and squalid dress, and meagre food, with which he is at this moment happier probably than if dragoman to a prince, and-motherless.

The crew had sunk to sleep, R. had retired to the boat, the villagers had disappeared among the palms, and I sat at the door of my tent in solitude, looking out upon the sands that shone silver white in contrast with the dark cliffs and masses of granite that surrounded me. The roar of the distant cataract was continuous; and now and then a peal of laughter, or a snatch of song, broke from the village beyond the palms, and the jackal's wailing cry answered from the cemetery in the desert.

I had just fallen asleep on my capote, when I heard an eager sniffing at my ear, and felt a warm breath upon my cheek which, even in my dreams, I knew came from no kindly watcher of my slumbers; as I slowly opened my eyes, I encountered such a sight as almost made them close again, against what seemed a hideous vision-between me and the moonlight stood the gaunt, hog-backed form of a hyæna, all bristling with excitement; and within arm's length, his large, round, ghastly eyes

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