 there is a rush of donkeys and donkey-boys, beggars, guides, and antiquity-dealers, to the shore – the children screaming for bakhshîsh ; the dealers exhibiting strings of imitation scrabs ; the donkey-boys vociferating the names and praises of their beasts ; all alike regarding us as their lawful prey.
"Hi, lady! Yankee-Doodle donkey ; try Yankee-Doodle!" cries one.
"Far-away Moses!" yells another. "Good donkey – fast donkey – best donkey in Luxor!"
"This Prince of Wales's donkey!" shouts a third, hauling forward a decrepit little weak-kneed, moth-eaten looking animal, about as good to ride on as a towel-horse. "First-rate donkey! splendid donkey! God save the Queen! Hurrah!"
But neither donkeys nor scarabs are of any importance in our eyes just now, compared with the letters we hope to find awaiting us on shore. No sooner, therefore, are the boats made fast than we are all off, some to the British Consulate and some to the Poste Restante, from both of which we return rich and happy.
Meanwhile we proposed to spend only twenty-four hours in Luxor. We were to ride round Karnak this first afternoon ; to cross to Medinet Habu and the Ramesseum 2 to-morrow morning ; and to sail again as soon after midday as possible. We hope thus to get a general idea of the topography of Thebes, and to carry away a superficial impression of the architectural style of the Pharaohs. It would be but a glimpse ; yet that glimpse was essential. For Thebes represents the great central period of Egyptian art. The earlier styles lead up to that point ; the later depart from it ; and neither the earlier nor the later are intelligible without it. At the same time, however, travellers bound for the Second Cataract do well to put off everything like a detailed study of Thebes till the time of coming back. For the present, a rapid survey of the three principal groups of ruins is enough. It supplies the necessary link. It helps one to a right understanding of Edfu, of Philæ, of Abu Simbel. In a word, it enables one to put things in their right places ; and this, after all, is a mental process which every traveller must perform for himself.
Thebes, I need scarcely say, was built like London on both sides of the river. Its original extent must have been very great ; but its public buildings, its quays, its thousands of private dwellings, are gone and have left few traces. The secular city, which was built of crude brick, is represented by a few insignificant mounds ; while of the sacred edifices, five large groups of limestone ruins – three on the western bank and two on the eastern, together with the remains of several small temples and a vast multitude of tombs – are all that remain in permanent evidence of its ancient splendour. Luxor is a modern Arab village occupying the site of one of the oldest of these five ruins. It stands on the eastern bank, close against the river, about two miles south of Karnak and nearly opposite the famous sitting Colossi of the Western plain. On the opposite bank lie Gournah, the Ramesseum, and Medinet Habu. A glance at the map will do more than pages of explanation to show the relative position of these ruins. The temple of Gournah, it will be seen, is almost vis-à-vis of Karnak. The Ramesseum faces about half-way between Karnak and Luxor. Medinet Habu is placed farther to the south than any building on the eastern side of the river. Behind these three western groups, reaching far and wide along the edge of the Libyan range, lies the great Theban Necropolis ; while farther back still, in the radiating valleys on the other side of the mountains, are found the Tombs of the Kings. The distance between Karnak and Luxor is a little less than two miles ; while from Medinet Habu to the Temple of Gournah may be roughly guessed at something under four. We have here, therefore, some indication of the extent, though not of the limits, of the ancient city.
Luxor is a large village inhabited by a mixed population of Copts and Arabs, and doing a smart trade in antiquities. The temple has here formed the nucleus of the village, the old