The Last Camel Died at Noon
rail, thus prompting a stern lecture on the dangers of falling overboard. I rewarded my son with an approving smile; there had never been any danger of his falling, he could climb like a monkey. With such distractions and a few animated arguments about archaeological matters, the time passed pleasantly enough until we disembarked at Wadi Haifa.

    Haifa, as it is now commonly termed, was once a small cluster of mud huts; but in 1885, after the withdrawal of our forces from Khartoum, it was established as the southern frontier of Egypt. It had now become a bustling depot of supplies and arms for the forces farther south. Following the advice of the young military officer whom I consulted, I purchased quantities of tinned food, tents, netting, and other equipment. Emerson and Ramses had wandered off on some expedition of their own. On this occasion I did not complain of their dereliction, for Emerson does not get on well with military persons, and Captain Buckman was a type of young Englishman who particularly annoyed him - prominent teeth, no chin to speak of, and a habit of tossing his head when he laughed in a high-pitched whinny. He was a great help to me, though, and full of admiration for Mr Budge, whom he had met in September. 'Quite a regular chap, not like your usual archaeologist, if you take my meaning, ma'am.'

    I took his meaning. I also took my leave, with appropriate thanks, and went in search of my errant family. As I had come to expect, Emerson had a number of 'old acquaintances' in Haifa; it was at the home of one of them, Sheikh Mahmud al-Araba, that we were to meet. The house was palatial by Nubian standards, built of mud brick around a high-walled central courtyard. I had braced myself for an argument with the doorkeeper, for these persons often tried to take me to the harim instead of into the presence of the master of the house, but on this occasion the old man had evidently been warned; he greeted me with salaams and repeated cries of marhaba (welcome) before escorting me into the salon. Here I found the sheikh, a white-bearded but hearty man, and my husband seated side by side on the mastaba-bench along one wall. They were smoking narghiles (water pipes) and watching the performance of a young female who squirmed around the room to the undulating beat of an orchestra consisting of two drummers and a piper. Her face was veiled; the same could not be said of the rest of her.

    Emerson sprang to his feet. Teabody! I had not expected you so soon.'

    'So I see,' I replied, returning the dignified greetings of the sheikh and taking the seat he indicated. The orchestra continued to wail, the girl continued to squirm, and Emerson's high cheekbones took on the colour of a ripe plum. Even the best of men exhibit certain inconsistencies in their attitude towards women. Emerson treated me as an equal (I would have accepted nothing less) in matters of the intellect, but it was impossible for him to conquer completely his absurd ideas about the delicate sensibilities of the female sex. The Arabs, for all their deplorable treatment of their own women, showed far more common sense in their treatment of me. Having decided that I ranked as a peculiar variety of female-man, they entertained me as they would any masculine friend.

    When the performance ended I applauded politely, somewhat to the surprise of the young woman. After expressing my appreciation to the sheikh, I inquired, 'Where is Ramses? We must be on our way, Emerson; I left instructions for the supplies to be delivered to the quay, but without your personal supervision -'

    'Yes, quite,' said Emerson. 'You had better fetch Ramses, then, he is being entertained by the ladies. Or vice versa.'

    'Oh, dear,' I said, hastily rising. 'Yes. I had better fetch him -

    and,' I added in Arabic, 'I would like to pay my compliments to the ladies of your house.'

    And, I added to myself, I would also have a word with the young woman who had - I suppose she would have

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