Read Online The Mamur Zapt and the Spoils of Egypt by Michael Pearce - Free Book Online Page A

licence.’
    ‘Thinking that where the pickings had been so good, there might be more,’ said Miss Skinner.
    ‘Another Cow?’
    ‘A calf at least.’
    Already the heat was rising up from the ground and bouncing back from the cliffs. This far south it was several degrees hotter than in Cairo and in the vast amphitheatre of rock it was hotter still. As they walked across to the second temple Owen could now see why the workmen had been glad to leave so early.
    In the open court of the temple they stopped at the entrance to a sloping passage extending down below the pavement. A modern door had been fitted—‘to keep out jay-walkers,’ said Miss Skinner—but was standing open.
    Inside was a rocky tunnel the height and width of a man, except that the men were smaller in those days and Owen had to stoop. It ran steeply downwards for over a hundred metres and then came out into a large room made of blocks of granite, extremely well joined, as they saw in the light of the torches. Two other tunnels ran out of the room.
    ‘That one,’ said Miss Skinner, pointing, ‘goes down to the sanctuary. That’s where they’re working at the moment. This one, here, is the one I went down.’
    ‘Not where they were working?’
    ‘I had been there. On my way back I thought I’d try this one.’
    The second tunnel was just as well made as the one they had walked down previously, except that it was, perhaps, a trifle smaller. The roof was vaulted and the floor, though bare rock, carefully smoothed.
    Paul, in front, stopped.
    ‘The scene of the crime,’ said Miss Skinner.
    ‘Crime?’ said Owen.
    ‘Accident,’ said Miss Skinner.
    The hole was not in front, as Owen had supposed, but at the side, in the wall. A cold, dusty smell came out of the opening.
    Paul shone his torch inside.
    ‘It’s a drop, as you can see.’
    ‘How far?’
    ‘Five feet,’ said Miss Skinner. ‘I could see over it, standing on tiptoe. But I couldn’t get up. There was nothing to stand on. Except mummies, of course, and they kept collapsing.’
    ‘Mummies?’
    Paul shone his torch.
    ‘There are dozens down there.’
    ‘They are mainly cats and dogs,’ said Miss Skinner. ‘Although there are some crocodiles.’
    ‘You tried standing on them?’
    ‘It was all I could find. The torch had, of course, gone out.’
    ‘How did you know—?’
    ‘I could feel them. The different animals are quite distinctive, even in the dark. I was down there, of course, for some time.’
    In the torchlight Owen could see the mummies, lots of them, and below him, a certain amount of debris.
    ‘They crumbled,’ said Miss Skinner, ‘when I stood on them.’
    ‘What’s it like down there?’ asked Owen.
    ‘Like—?’
    ‘The ground. Is it OK to stand on?’
    ‘Apart from the mummies, yes. It’s like this.’
    Owen gave Paul his torch and swung himself down. As his feet touched the ground he felt something give way and a cloud of acrid dust rose up and made him cough.
    ‘Of course,’ said Miss Skinner above him, ‘when I fell, I landed on top of them. I suppose, in fact, they cushioned my fall. But the dust! I couldn’t breathe! I thought I would choke.’
    Owen reached his hand up for the torch. The chamber was long, about thirty feet, and, as far as he could see, filled with mummies.
    ‘Why go to these lengths,’ asked Paul, ‘for animals?’
    ‘They were sacred. I think, however,’ said Miss Skinner, ‘they must have had a fondness for them, too.’
    The walls of the chamber were of granite blocks, exactly as the walls of the other room had been, fitting so well together that there wasn’t even a slight toe-hold that Miss Skinner could have used.
    The ground was deep in debris.
    ‘I used a lot of mummies,’ said Miss Skinner.
    Owen gave Paul the torch and heaved himself up. ‘Satisfied?’ asked Miss Skinner. ‘Have I told the truth?’
    ‘I’m just trying to get a picture.’
    Back in the corridor, he shone the torch around him.
    ‘I still