himself as he pulled himself up and walked along the cliff’s edge.
Very smooth.
“See,” he complained
sitting down on a large, flat stone about thirty yards from the edge of the
cliff. “Nothing but sand and rocks. And over there, a palm tree!” he pointed at
the lonesome palm swaying gently in the breeze that had made its way up from
the valley below. “Welcome to Egypt!”
“But no
camels?” Gail laughed.
He shrugged
and pointed to the valley and where the Professor’s expedition was based. “Probably doing a better job than me over
there in the trench,” he half-joked.
Gail looked
over at him and grinned. “Why do you call yourself Ben?” she asked.
“My real name
is Farid, the same as my father. For as
long as I can remember, people have called me Ben, I was even called that by my
teachers at school!” He looked down at the sand and laughed. “I have no idea
where it came from,” he said.
Gail
contemplated this for a second before responding. “When I was a child, I could
never understand why my parents had named me after the wind. A gale is like a
hurricane,” she explained to him. “Names are funny old things, don’t you
think?”
“Yes?” he
answered cautiously.
“Like Nefertiti,”
she continued. “’The Beautiful One Has Come’. What a strange thing to call
someone. Where could she have come from, and where could she be now?”
“I imagine she
is dead, Gail,” he joked. “And she is certainly not around here.”
Gail stood up
and walked towards the lone palm tree, away from the cliff’s edge and the stone
on which Ben sat, looking out towards the desert. “She has to be somewhere!”
she said. Despite the fact that they had seen nothing all day with the
exception of a couple of landslides and a few lizards, she was filled with
happiness at simply being in Egypt, in the desert, with ancient ruins barely
half an hour’s drive away.
Reaching the
base of the palm, she turned and looked at Ben. He was still sitting on the stone
about twenty yards away, but had shifted round to see what she was doing. She
looked at him and started to wave, then stopped.
“What is it?”
he shouted. He got up and jogged over to her. “Gail, what’s wrong?”
She pointed to
the stone they had been sitting on, and began walking towards it. “Look!”
Ben turned
back to the rock and froze. Even he knew what it meant. The flat stone they had been sitting on was
about eight feet long by at least six feet wide. It stood about eight inches high, almost
buried in the sand, and was perfectly flat. There were many flat stones dotted
around the landscape, a natural by-product of the stratified rock formation
caused by millions of years of sedimentation, and this one had seemed no
different as they had approached it from the cliff and sat down to rest. But it was obvious, seeing it from the other
side, that it had once been shaped by man.
Whereas on the
other side it was rough and ragged, this side was perfectly smooth and flat,
the vertical face at right angles with the top. From where Gail and Ben were now standing, it looked like a giant stone
building block that had simply fallen from the sky and landed in the middle of
a barren cliff-top. Naturally occurring
geological marvels were not unheard of: Gail had seen pictures of the Giant’s
Causeway and plenty of underwater sites around the world where natural rock
formations had been wrongly attributed to man. And if it had only been for the right
angles and the smoothness of the surfaces, Gail could have doubted her
judgement. But it was not just this that made her heart swell with
excitement.
Engraved on
the stone, just poking out from beneath the sand, were the unmistakable lines,
loops and curves of hieroglyphs.
They started
clearing the loose sand at its base until an area approximately two feet high
by eight long had been exposed.
On her knees,
Gail ran her hand over the engravings, following the outline
Very smooth.
“See,” he complained
sitting down on a large, flat stone about thirty yards from the edge of the
cliff. “Nothing but sand and rocks. And over there, a palm tree!” he pointed at
the lonesome palm swaying gently in the breeze that had made its way up from
the valley below. “Welcome to Egypt!”
“But no
camels?” Gail laughed.
He shrugged
and pointed to the valley and where the Professor’s expedition was based. “Probably doing a better job than me over
there in the trench,” he half-joked.
Gail looked
over at him and grinned. “Why do you call yourself Ben?” she asked.
“My real name
is Farid, the same as my father. For as
long as I can remember, people have called me Ben, I was even called that by my
teachers at school!” He looked down at the sand and laughed. “I have no idea
where it came from,” he said.
Gail
contemplated this for a second before responding. “When I was a child, I could
never understand why my parents had named me after the wind. A gale is like a
hurricane,” she explained to him. “Names are funny old things, don’t you
think?”
“Yes?” he
answered cautiously.
“Like Nefertiti,”
she continued. “’The Beautiful One Has Come’. What a strange thing to call
someone. Where could she have come from, and where could she be now?”
“I imagine she
is dead, Gail,” he joked. “And she is certainly not around here.”
Gail stood up
and walked towards the lone palm tree, away from the cliff’s edge and the stone
on which Ben sat, looking out towards the desert. “She has to be somewhere!”
she said. Despite the fact that they had seen nothing all day with the
exception of a couple of landslides and a few lizards, she was filled with
happiness at simply being in Egypt, in the desert, with ancient ruins barely
half an hour’s drive away.
Reaching the
base of the palm, she turned and looked at Ben. He was still sitting on the stone
about twenty yards away, but had shifted round to see what she was doing. She
looked at him and started to wave, then stopped.
“What is it?”
he shouted. He got up and jogged over to her. “Gail, what’s wrong?”
She pointed to
the stone they had been sitting on, and began walking towards it. “Look!”
Ben turned
back to the rock and froze. Even he knew what it meant. The flat stone they had been sitting on was
about eight feet long by at least six feet wide. It stood about eight inches high, almost
buried in the sand, and was perfectly flat. There were many flat stones dotted
around the landscape, a natural by-product of the stratified rock formation
caused by millions of years of sedimentation, and this one had seemed no
different as they had approached it from the cliff and sat down to rest. But it was obvious, seeing it from the other
side, that it had once been shaped by man.
Whereas on the
other side it was rough and ragged, this side was perfectly smooth and flat,
the vertical face at right angles with the top. From where Gail and Ben were now standing, it looked like a giant stone
building block that had simply fallen from the sky and landed in the middle of
a barren cliff-top. Naturally occurring
geological marvels were not unheard of: Gail had seen pictures of the Giant’s
Causeway and plenty of underwater sites around the world where natural rock
formations had been wrongly attributed to man. And if it had only been for the right
angles and the smoothness of the surfaces, Gail could have doubted her
judgement. But it was not just this that made her heart swell with
excitement.
Engraved on
the stone, just poking out from beneath the sand, were the unmistakable lines,
loops and curves of hieroglyphs.
They started
clearing the loose sand at its base until an area approximately two feet high
by eight long had been exposed.
On her knees,
Gail ran her hand over the engravings, following the outline
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