Stories of Africa and Ancient Egypt
frowning and grim. Still northward the galley swings day by day, until at last the Island of Philae can be seen in the distance, and the sailors know that they are almost at their journey’s end. Behind the island lie the docks of Shellal, where their ship will moor, and the familiar thunder of the First Cataract is already in their ears as the vessel rushes onwards with a line of foam at her bows. On board the vessel everyone is wild with excitement and delight at seeing Egyptian soil again after so long a journey—everyone except one man. He lies under the awning in the gaily decorated little cabin at the stern of the ship, and his heart is very heavy. To-day his men will reach home and be at the end of all their toils and troubles; but his are only beginning. He has still to make a long journey down the river to Pharaoh’s Court, and at the end of it he will have to make his report to the King. Perhaps he knows that the report is not too favourable; for some think that one of the ships of the expedition had been lost, or perhaps the cargo is not so good as was expected. But even if he can report a most successful journey, he knows perfectly well that he will have no peace till the terrible interview with Pharaoh is over, for Pharaoh is God; to enter his presence is a terror. If he is angry with his servants, his anger is a consuming fire; and the Prince, as he lies in his cabin, feels that he would rather face the Nubian bows and spears a dozen times over than face “the 76