THE EIGHTH PAPYRUS
Reading edition
But, as soon as the barge was going swiftly with wind and stream, Nesamun fixed the steering-oar, and came forward with Yokkho to adore me. And, having laid their two bodies (gleaming with wholesome sweat) at length at my feet, then they praised me in the Egyptian mode. But, when they rose up, we refreshed ourselves with cups of wine; and the boatman collected spears and javelins which were sticking in various parts of the barge, and stacked them in tidy bundles near the prow. But the slave brought sweet water for bathing a wound in my left forearm, which had appeared to be a deep one: but, when the drying blood was washed away, it was seen to be merely a scratch. And he bound it up, using the nimble tender fingers which had waited so patiently, during the fight, to hoist the sail at the very moment when I commanded afterward. But, when I had rewarded them each with a handful of Egyptian silver, I retired to my cabin, the radiant sun being near its height; and, anon, dark sleep embraced me.
And, once again I was disturbed by conceptions not of a restful nature. For, while my body slept, the mind in my dear breast concerned itself about innumerable ideas, asking unanswerable questions. It was quite clear to me that I indeed was living a new life: but I was not certain as to whether I was still a man, or really (as people opined) a god. And I laughed at the latter notion: because I never before had heard of a Yacht Club member (as I am, having compounded my subscription and never having been expelled), who also was a god of sorts. But, god or man, I supposed that I still had the right to put the address of the club on my visiting-card. And once more I laughed at the notion of leaving visiting-cards on Gajus Julius Cæsar, and Marcus Tullius Cicero, and the whole blameless gang of venal (but Roman) old-fogeydom, whom I actually might see in the flesh within a month, simply by crossing the unvintaged sea. But the scratch on my arm smarted, in what I took to be an ungodly manner: for I knew not then that the blessed gods are ever so much more sensible to pain than your mere man, having made men in a godlike image, but having given them only the sorriest fraction of a godlike nature. And the Whole is naturally greater than a Part of a Whole. But I persuaded myself that I was a man, at least so far. And, yet again, I laughed at the notions that I, a subject of Victory, queen of the stalwart stately Anglicans, was also an Egyptian master of magic, and, that I, a catholic of the Apostolic Latin Obedience, on whose agonies of cold and hunger and thirst and mind-maddening loneliness the foundations of Westminster Cathedral were laid, was also a priest of Isis. And a doubt came to me from I know not where, as to whether there were in fact any gods at all, beside those which men are wont to make in their own idiotic image,[26] and (if, perchance, there ever had been gods), whether they had not all retired from business, to die at their ease, having grown so feeble that mortals could handle them rudely even before windy Ilion far back in the morning of time. Or, perhaps, the gods of the Argives had gone into partnership with the gods of the barbarians. For there certainly were gods in barbaric places, and my eyes had seen them; and I began to contrive new wiles for seeing them again one after the other, asking them to send me back to my own time, if I had a time. But I became displeased with the frivolous manner of the thought of visiting immortal gods who inhabit olympian palaces. And yet, I asked myself, why should I not visit gods, who had been visited by a strange god, even Belmarduk the god of Assyria with his attendant heroes. And that notion, that a god should have taken the trouble to come from distant Assyria to visit me in the land of Khem, convinced me that (if indeed I was not in truth a god) I was extremely important as a man, being certainly the sole representative of The Great Queen Victory, queen of the stalwart stately Anglicans, in the Egypt over which the Pharoah Ptolemaios Ayletes ruled. And that idea reminded me of my Foreign Office Passport, and of the risk (which I was running) of being arrested as the possessor of an undecypherable document. But I scorned that; and began to contrive yet newer plans for going to see the Kolossos of Rhodes when I should have finished my business with Amenemhat at Tanis. And the last notion made me think of South Africa,[27] and the colossal man Umgugondlhovu (as the Zulus name the rumble of an elephant) whom I had left overshadowing that country, with the hybrid horde of I.D.Bs. and polemic georgics,[28] all the most righteous of men, who infested his vicinity. And the notion of an elephant reminded of a circus. And the notion of a circus gave me a foresight of the green and blue factions of Purity and Holy Wisdom striving in the circus at Constantinople. And, from Constantinople onward, notions came to me in crowds, notions of Turks, Bulgarian and Albanian atrocities, the traitors Gladstone and Asquith, the treaties of The Hague and Berlin, the German Empire, the Holy Roman Empire, Karl the Great, Rome, Pontifex Maximus, Saint Peter, strange gods, with whom I had no time to deal separately owing to a pressing engagement, but merely checked off their names as the procession hurried by. And, then, having come back to the notion of strange gods with which I had started, I bounded out of my dream.
And, instantly, to me there came the last words of my dream, namely “strange gods,” said in a fat phlegmatic voice near by.
To which the strong tones of Nesamun firmly answered, saying: “I have said that my lord is indeed a god. I myself am loyal to the Pharoah; but I dare not stop until my lord the god bids me. And he is asleep.”
“Let us see this strange god who journeys in a hired barge. Awaken thy god, O slave, and let us see him:” the fat voice wheezed.
But I, slinging on my revolver again, stepped out of the cabin. And, at sight of me, the boatman shut his full red lips; and leaned easily upon the steering-oar, as one whose part is well-done. But I perceived that a royal galley lay alongside, which bore a very inquisitive negro, richly garbed and of hideously inconvenient obesity. Whom I austerely addressed, demanding his generalities.
“I,” he said, in a quieter tone, “am the Pharoah’s private detective; and I stop all boats which come downstream to satisfy myself that they are not sent by the rebel-mercenaries.”
“These spears and javelins,” I answered him, shewing the stacks, “are branded with the Rose of Rhodes and the Crane of the Karians; and they were drawn out of the holes which thou mayst see among my bulwarks: into which holes they first were hurled by the rebels. Judge, therefore, whether the rebels would thus have assailed their friends, or their foes.”
“But, if ye be foes of the rebels, ye must have passed them by.”
“That is true,” I said: “for I encountered them above Ptolemais Hermii, where I slew Pyrrhos and thirteen of his gang; and so I passed them by.”
“Dost thou say that thou hast slain Pyrrhos and thirteen of the mercenaries? Either thou art indeed a god, or a hero, or a very great liar. And, as I take thee for the last, I shall detain thee while I inquire into the truth of thy story. If it be true, thou shalt be compensated. If it be false, prepare to suffer certain torments.”
Thus rashly he spoke, beating his ceruminous belly: but I, glowing with anger, said: “And dost thou, O mountain of impudence, think that I, who have outfaced a whole galley full of armed Greeks, will be stayed by any emasculate slaves of the Lagidai?”
“Hear the voice of the god, and give ear to long-armed Psammy lord of apes:” the fat phlegmatic negro exclaimed in a tone of derision.
But my blood boiled because my rather-long arms were mocked by a blameless black man; and the lust of battle inflamed me again, making my great strength as the strength of nineteen; and the ferocity of the long-curving fiercely-clutching claws of a crab inflamed the hands of me. For which causes, and knowing that it would take a better man than a bloated nigger to stand up to me, I bounded from my bulwark to the galley, terribly bellowing. And, alighting near my scoffer, I rent the well-toothed jaw from the head of him, and smashed the rest of his face to a purple pudding therewith. Also, tearing his fingers asunder like a rag, I split his right hand up to the wrist; and, so, I tossed him, devoutly hiccoughing his physical agony, as an offering to the sons of slime.
But I turned swiftly to seek another victim. And, on the prow, an archer stood balanced on long slim straddling legs, drawing a brass-tipped arrow to his ear: but its point was toward me. And him, complaining bitterly, I also sacrificed to the inchanted crocodiles.
But, being now well in the way of fighting, I snatched at my revolver; and, by chance, my hand touched the magic staff hanging from my belt. And the potency of it caused certain admirable events. For, first, my wrath cooled, and instantly died away: but I myself began to utter wily words in my usual manner, pointing the staff at the crew of the Pharoah’s galley, and saying: “Ye have seen the dire fate which overtakes those who temerariously oppose me. Be wise, therefore. Stand not in my way: nor follow me too far.[29] But draw off speedily, lest a like doom should afflict you also.”
But, when I had spoken thus with my mouth, I added the Spell Which Binds with my mind. And, being bound, they remained whimpering, but as still as stones: but I, returning to my barge, washed my hands and resumed my journey.
After this manner I did with the Pharoah’s objectionable private detective.