Platypus
Authors L A Boruff Laura Greenwood
Skye Mackinnon Lacey Carter
Andersen Jaliza A Burwell E E Andrews
Edeline Wrigh Nova Blake
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L.A. Boruff & Laura Greenwood • Skye MacKinnon • Nova Blake • E.E. Andrews • Edeline Wrigh • Jaliza A. Burwell • Lacey Carter Andersen
Copyright © 2019 by L.A. Boruff & Laura Greenwood , Skye MacKinnon, Nova Blake, E.E. Andrews, Edeline Wrigh, Jaliza A. Burwell, and Lacey Carter Andersen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Vampari Designs www.arizonatape.com
First Printing, 2019
CONTENTS
L.A. BORUFF AND LAURA GREENWOOD
A Platypus and Her Wolves
Note from the Authors
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Epilogue
About Laura Greenwood
About L.A. Boruff
Also By L.A. Boruff
SKYE MACKINNON
Taken by the horny platypus
Taken by the horny platypus
About the Author
NOVA BLAKE
Not What She Eggspected
Not What She Eggspected
About the Author
E.E. ANDREWS
Detective Dick, And The Case Of The Missing Puss.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About the Author
EDELINE WRIGH
The Platypus and the Devil
The Platypus and the Devil
About the Author
JALIZA A. BURWELL
Magical Conniption
Magical Conniption
Also by Jaliza A. Burwell
Stalker Links
LACEY CARTER ANDERSEN
Medusa and the Platypus
1. Medusa
2. Marcus
3. Medusa
A Note From The Author
Want more from Lacey Carter Andersen?
About the Author
More by Lacey Carter Andersen
A PLATYPUS AND HER WOLVES
THE VALENTINE PRIDE SERIES, BOOK 2.5
GREENWOOD
Hello, readers! Thanks for joining us for another adventure with the Eastern Tennessee Pride. If you haven’t read the first book, you can find it in the Valentine Between the Sheets anthology at http://www. books2read.com/VDAYBTS, and book two is in the Lucky Between the Sheets anthology at http://www.books2read.com/LuckyBTS You don’t have to read them to enjoy this story, however. You’ll still get a nice steamy read here. Enjoy!
- L.A. & Laura
The internet search on my laptop pinged as I put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. Even though every search that ever came up was a huge disappointment, I ran over to check it anyway.
I’d programmed certain keywords relating to shifters, shifting, and paranormal creatures to send me reports when new articles and information came up about them. If someone started a forum post about shifters being real, I got a shrill beep-beep from my laptop.
Every time, it was fruitless. Some teenager reads a romance novel and ended up searching to see if there was anything to find online about real shifters, werewolves, and the like.
There wasn’t. Never had been, as far as I could tell.
The first time I shifted, I’d thought I was losing my mind, hallucinating. But I managed to shift back, then did it again and again.
I’d loved it.
There was nothing better in life than knowing that I was special and different from the masses around me. It made me feel like a rare jewel, until I couldn’t find anyone else like me.
I scrolled through the new links on the search, and dismissed them all with a sigh. More speculation and people dreaming.
Noises from the hallway outside my front door made my ears twitch, but I mostly ignored them. It was a co-ed dorm, and the guys on my floor were particularly immature. They partied all the
time. I had no idea how they were making it through school. My ears were so sensitive I heard things I really didn’t want to.
The noises sharpened and turned to footsteps and whispers. They stopped outside my door. I couldn’t make out the words, but shuffling sounds and more whispers filtered through the door.
I tiptoed to look through the peephole. Three big guys stood outside my door, looking around. I was sure I’d never seen them before. This close to the door I could hear them as if they were standing right beside me.
A thud caused the big black guy to look down the hall. “Just knock,” he whispered as he turned back toward the door.
The blonde shook his head. “You do it.” I couldn’t make out his features through the warped peephole. He wore black-framed glasses.
The third guy, with shaggy dark brown hair shook his head and lifted his fist. I jumped back from the door as it vibrated from the impact of his closed fist hitting it.
Even with the door in the way, there was something about the three men that had me transfixed. I normally prided myself in not being easily swayed by bulging muscles and perfectly formed faces...but all that went out of the window with these three.
“Fuck,” I hissed, breathing hard. I’d seen him about to knock and still it scared the shit out of me.
He knocked again. “Hello?” he called through the door.
I counted to three before answering. “Who is it?” I said in a light voice, as if they hadn’t just made me jump out of my skin.
A slight thump sound came through. “Uh, hi,” a different voice said tentatively. “We’re looking for April Jester.”
“Why?” I asked. How’d they know my name? I walked as lightly as I could back to the door to look out.
“It’s a sensitive matter,” the brunette said. They looked at each other again. “Can you let us in?”
“Why would a woman let three strange men into her dorm?” I asked suspiciously. “You’ll have to give me a little more information.”
“Well, it’s about your parents.”
“I talked to my mom an hour ago. They’re fine.” What could three guys, my age by the looks of them, want to say about my mom and dad? It felt like a ruse to get me to open the door. And I really had talked to my mom. Unless she’d completely changed her plans, she was home doing the laundry.
My senses were on high alert, even my extra senses. Something inside me wanted me to open the door, but I really didn’t have time for bullshit. I had a big test coming up, and I needed all the time I could to study. I wasn’t about to throw my future away for three guys.
“I have a gun,” I said. “And I know how to use it.” It was a total lie. I’d never held a gun in my life. My parents were pacifists.
“That’s okay. You can even have it out. Hurting you is the last thing on our minds,” the tall black guy said.
Giving in to the inner urge, I unhooked my pepper spray from my keys and stuck it in my back pocket before I flipped the lock. “Come in,” I said in a loud voice as I backed up quickly.
The door swung open, and the guys looked around the room quickly before their eyes landed on me. “Hi,” I said, completely losing all sense of myself for a moment.
They walked inside and shut the door. “I’m Bryce,” the brunette said, walking forward with his hand outstretched.
Reaching out, I jumped again as our hands touched and jerked mine back, shaking it. “Static electricity,“ I said. The zing had run through my entire body, giving me a charge and raising my senses even more.
Bryce stared at his hand, shocked.
“What, you’ve never been hit with a zing from walking on carpet or something before?” I asked with a laugh.
He shook his head. “No, it’s just, uh, that seemed strong for static.”
The other two guys moved forward at the same time. The biggest smiled at me. “Don’t mind him. He’s a goofball. I’m Eric.” He held out his hand, but I hesitated before shaking it. Something about him was almost overwhelming. Like he was taking up all the oxygen in the whole room.
“I don’t bite,” he said with a chuckle. Bryce and the blond with glasses laughed out loud, the joke really hitting them. I didn’t think it was that funny. I shook his hand anyway, and another jolt of electricity hit me, stronger this time.
“Shit,” I exclaimed as I jerked my hand back. “The air must be extra dry,” I said with a wince.
The blonde guy stared at me with wide eyes. “What’s your name, then?” I asked him.
“Caleb,” he said in a near whisper.
“Hello, Caleb. I’d offer to shake your hand, but I don’t think my skin can take it.” I smiled at him.
He smiled back, but it was tentative and unsure. “Hey.”
The urge to hug all of them almost overwhelmed me. Suddenly my emotions surged, heating up my body. “Uh, sit, please,” I stammered, gesturing to my couch. The three large guys might not fit comfortably on it, but I was lucky I didn’t have any roommates, so my dorm was especially small. I’d gotten rid of the twin bed and brought in a couch with a fold out.
That took up one whole wall. A built-in sink was on the opposite wall, and I’d put my chest of drawers beside it with my all-time favorite Christmas present on top.
A portable dishwasher. Doing dishes was my least favorite chore, even the tiny amount I made while living in the dorms. My parents had surprised me with it the summer before Freshman year, and it had been my faithful servant for four years.
My microwave took up half my desk, with a hot plate on top of that, and my laptop the other half. I had my bookshelf and TV beside an armoire that mostly held stuff. I didn’t have a lot of clothes.
“So, what about my parents?” I asked as I sat in my desk chair. “What could you possibly have to tell me about them?”
Eric cleared his throat. “You’re adopted, I’m guessing?” he asked. What did he mean guessing? “I am,” I said carefully, studying them. They were crammed in beside each other on the couch, shoulder to shoulder. Caleb was squished between the much bigger Bryce and Eric.
“We might be able to help you find out more information about your birth parents,” Eric said.
“That would be a miracle,” I said dryly. “Since I was abandoned as an infant and there’s really no way to tell.”
I’d been left outside a hospital in Boston, but quickly adopted by a nurse that was there the night I was found. She’d had cancer, and they’d had to remove her entire reproductive system. No kiddos for her. So, I was her miracle baby. She and my father had doted on me, basically given me anything I wanted. It was a wonder I wasn’t a total bitch and diva.
Bryce looked at the quiet Caleb and Eric, who still made me feel like he was the biggest presence in the room. Then he turned to me with a huge grin. “Let’s not beat around the bush. You’re a shifter, yeah?”
Gasping, I floundered for words. “How?” I finally squeaked out. “I don’t…”
“It’s okay,” Bryce said, laughing. “We are, too.”
If I hadn’t been sitting I would’ve been grasping for a chair. As hard as I’d looked, now it was dropped in my lap? Hell, I’d even chosen my college based on a rumor of shifters in the area. One of my searches had found a single website comment on a page talking about the tourist attractions in the mountains near the University of Tennessee.
Someone had mentioned something about the community being tight-knit and somewhat reclusive. Then another person said that was typical of shifters. The original poster had replied asking for clarification, then when I refreshed the page the entire thread was gone.
It had been the biggest lead I’d found, so I’d followed it. When it came time to choose a college, my decision had been easy. It helped that UT had a stellar veterinary program.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said as my mind raced. “How is this happening?” I whispered.
“Well,” Caleb said, speaking for the first time. “Our alpha built this database. It’s very technical. I’ve actually asked him if I can help with it.”
“A database?” I asked dumbly. My brain was on overload.
“Yes, when you searched for shifters, it started logging your activity. Then it narrowed down the likelihood of you being a lone shifter based on your location, age, and search terms.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “It’s quite sophisticated.”
“Sounds like a terrible invasion of privacy,” I said suspiciously.
“It could be viewed that way,” Eric said. “But, it’s to help lone shifters find the pack. Being a supernatural creature in the human world is something nobody should have to go through alone.”
“I’ve done just fine.” I tried not to be offended. I didn’t want to run them off. I wanted to start asking questions and never stop.
“Of course you have,” Eric said with a small smile. “But wouldn’t it have been nice to have someone to guide you through your first shift? I imagine that had to be pretty scary.”
“It was,” I admitted. “Once I figured out what was going on, I loved it, but at first? Yeah, it was terrifying.”
“We’re trying to think of other ways to find lone shifters, maybe even before they have their first shift, but for now, this is all we have. You’re the first, too,” Caleb said proudly.
“The first what?” What did he mean?
“The first shifter found with the new database.” He sat a little straighter. “We volunteered to come get you.”
“How far did you have to come?” I asked.
Bryce burst out laughing. “He says it as if we’ve journeyed for days like a group of hobbits.”
I chuckled, somehow surprised that three shifters knew what Lord of the Rings was. Why wouldn’t they know?
“I guess shifters have seen the movies, too, huh?” I asked wryly.
“What movies?” Bryce asked cheerfully, with a blank expression on his face.
“The Lord of the Rings movies. They’re amazing,” I said.
Caleb leaned forward. “They made them into movies?” He pushed his glasses up his nose again. “When? Do you have them?”
Bryce pushed him back with a snort. “Dude, chill.”
“You didn’t know they were movies?” I asked. “Do you guys live under a rock? Surely being a shifter doesn’t mean you can’t go to
the movies.”
Eric shifted uneasily in his seat, and Caleb looked at a spot on the wall above my head. Bryce rolled his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he said to me conspiratorially. “Most shifters live pretty much like humans, except they shift and go play in the woods sometimes. We come from a more traditional sect.”
“What does that mean?” I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know.
“We were raised deep in the mountains, in cabins without electricity,” Eric said stiffly, as if waiting on me to explode. “We spent a significant portion of time in our shifted forms, and were homeschooled.”
I opened my mouth to tell them that was cool, no judgement from me, but Caleb jumped in. “Don’t think we weren’t well educated, though,” he said hurriedly. “I’d stack us up against any human public school.”
“Don’t worry, guys. I won’t judge. I was homeschooled, too.”
“Do your parents know?” Eric asked. He looked fascinated.
I shook my head. "I don't see why they would." I'd made a few comments after my first shift to try and work out if they did or not, but I'd never gotten anything more than a confused look for my troubles.
"Do you know what kind of shifter you are?" Eric asked. "Yes." Once I'd gotten over the fact I could shift at all, I'd set up a video camera so I could watch myself. And discovered of all the animals in the world, I could shift into the creature evolution seemed to have forgotten: the platypus.
After the initial annoyance about not being able to turn into something cooler, I'd actually come to like it. I was even more unique than just being able to turn into an animal. I was an unusual animal at that. Of course, I'd done the logical thing and searched for platypus shifter books, only to find my choices limited to a Jane Austen satire and gay romance, neither of which helped me with understanding what it was like to be a female platypus searching for love.
"What are you?" Eric asked.
I raised an eyebrow. He was rather forward, wasn't he? Surely asking a lady what she turned into was almost akin to asking her how old she was. At least, that was the assumption I was going to go with. No way was I giving them more information that I needed to. For all I knew, they could still be pulling my leg and filming this for some kind of prank show.
"It's rude to ask that," I ventured.
Bryce laughed. "If I had a penny for every time a woman had told me that..."
My brows pinched together. What? Had a lot of people told him he was rude? He didn't seem to be. A bit clueless, maybe. But rude?
"Ignore him," Eric insisted. "But if you don't tell us what you are, we can't help you."
"I don't think that's true," I countered, unwilling to let him overwhelm me.
Something odd crossed over his face. Maybe he just wasn't used to people saying no to him. They'd said they came from a more traditional sect of shifters, maybe that affected how they interacted with women. Or more likely, people in general.
"How about we come to a deal," I tried. "You show me yours, and I'll show you mine." And I wasn't just saying that because I was curious about what the three of them were. I was also desperate to see someone else shift. It was the only way I was going to believe that they were what they said they were. A part of me still wondered if this was just some kind of prank show.
Or maybe they were the FBI on a power trip because my search history was so weird. Certainly, they had better things to do, but everyone needed an amusement fix every now and again.
To my surprise, Bryce rose to his feet and whipped off his shirt. His fingers rested on his fly.
"Whoa, that is notwhat I meant." I could feel how wide my eyes had gone. I wasn't very experienced, and as intrigued as I was by these three men, I wasn't ready to rush into anything.
"You said if we showed you ours..." A hurt look flashed across his face and guilt filled me. I hadn't meant to make him feel that way.
"I meant your shifted form, not your dick." Just because I didn't have experience, it didn't mean I had problems talking about it. Living in a co-ed dorm meant a complete de-sensitization to the course language college guys used. Well, and college girls. They were just as bad when they got drunk.
"He still needs to get naked to show you that," Eric pointed out. I sighed and just about held back from rolling my eyes. I wasn't even sure if that was true or not, but they were male. Any excuse to get naked was probably a good one in their eyes. I told myself I had no desire to see them naked, anyway.
"Alright, let me close my eyes and then you can do it. Tell me when I can open them again." I screwed my eyes shut, determined not to even take a peek, even if I wanted to.
"How do you know you can trust us not to tell you too soon?" Bryce asked.
"You'll need to get used to being naked if you're a shifter," Eric announced as the rustling sounds of clothing being removed reached my ears.
Don’tpeek.
"No, I won't," I countered. "Just because everyone else likes running around nude, it doesn't mean I have to."
"It's kind of normal with us..."
I ignored them. "If this is some weird sex thing then you can just get the fuck out of my room now," I countered.
I didn't need to have my eyes open to know they hadn't left. Good. So this wasn't a weird sex thing. That was a good start. Part of me didn't want to believe they were here for a reason other than what they'd already said. I needed too many answers for that.
"You can open your eyes now," Caleb whispered. Interestingly, he was the one who I'd have believed the most. There was something about the quieter man that vibed trustworthy. Slowly, I opened my eyes, not completely sure what I would see. Their verbal claim that they were shifters was one thing, it was quite another seeing it with my own eyes. It would be a game changer for me too. All this time, I'd believed I was alone, and that was about to change.
I squealed, half in delight and half in shock, at the wolf standing calmly in the middle of my dorm room, roughly in front of where Bryce had been standing. Dark grey fur covered his head and back. It was a color I'd never have described as beautiful up until that moment, but it definitely was. He was two-tone, though, with a white stripe under his belly. Deep down, I knew I'd have recognised him as Bryce even if I hadn't known which of the three I was looking at.
"Wow," I whispered.
"Told you so." Eric leaned back and crossed his arms, a selfsatisfied smirk on his face.
I scowled. That was not how he was going to get me on their side. There was an arrogance to him that would need watching. He was used to things going his way and getting what he wanted. Well, he had something else coming. I might be small in stature, and I might not be a wolf when I was shifted, but no one could tell me what to do.
"Great, now shift back so we can have a conversation."
The wolf nodded. Huh. I hadn't expected that, though I probably should’ve. He was in shifted form, not an animal. It wasn't like he'd lost his ability to listen in the process of shifting.
"I'm just going to turn around. And when you're back in human form, I want answers. And a milkshake. You're paying." I didn't wait for any of them to respond and turned around. Even with my back to them, they could still talk to me.
While I couldn't see him do it, I somehow knew that Bryce had shifted back into his human form. That was weird. I hadn't expected to be able to tell.
Oh well. It was one of the many things I could ask them about once I had a tasty milkshake in front of me. And pie too. I was very suddenly craving a tasty piece of pie. They were going to be paying for that too.
Islurped down my milkshake and gestured for the waitress to get me another one. If they questioned it, I'd just say the sugar was to combat the shock over learning other shifters existed. Not that I was in shock. Maybe I should’ve been. I figured I'd delve into the meaning behind why I wasn't later.
"You haven't told us what you are yet," Eric pushed again. Hmm. He had a ring leader vibe, just short of alpha. I wondered how that worked but pushed the thought aside for later. I'd have plenty of time to ask about the more complex aspects of shifter dynamics.
"Do I have to?"
"We might have better advice for you if you tell us," he insisted. I shrugged. "Does it make a difference?"
"Of course it does. If you have any dietary requirements, then we can help explain them."
"Huh, I hadn't considered my food choices were linked to my animal." But it did explain why seafood was my favourite by far. Shrimp was just delicious.
Mmm. Shrimp. If they weren't careful, they were going to have to take me out for dinner too. I could really go for a nice seafood risotto.
"So, all three of you are wolves?" I asked. Bryce nodded. "The three wolf-keteers," he announced proudly.
I snorted. "I'm guessing you haven't seen the TV show they made about that either?"
His eyes widened. "I feel like I'm missing out."
"You really have. There are some great adaptations of classics." Though I was glad the Jane Austen platypus cross-over hadn't been made into any kind of visual entertainment. No one needed to see that. As cool as it was to be able to shift into something so unique, even I had to admit that there was something weird looking about our kind.
"And you live in the mountains?" I was only guessing that from what they'd said and the rumor I'd found in the past, but it seemed like a good bet.
"Yes. Most of the pack lives close enough to come into the cities for work and college. We have a school for the younger shifters on the mountain though," Caleb answered, still speaking a lot more softly than the other two.
Part of me wanted to reach out and comfort him in response, but that might be a little strange. I'd only known them for an hour or so, I certainly shouldn't be thinking about making physical contact with them. I'd heard enough college horror stories about that to err on the side of caution. At least I still had my pepper spray in my pocket. Would that even work on shifters? I had no idea and hoped I wouldn't have to find out.
"But you lived in a different part?"
The waitress set down my second milkshake before they could answer and I flashed her a grateful smile. Our food was probably almost ready, so I needed to make sure I got as many questions answered as I could.
"Yes. A few hundred years ago, our ancestors decided they didn't want a part of what the pack planned," Bryce said.
"Which was...?" I slurped down more of my milkshake, regretting it a couple of seconds later when brain freeze hit.
"To open up a town that catered to tourists," Eric said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He did that a lot. Maybe he thought it made him look commanding or something, when really it
made him look like a bit of an ass. Like he was the kind of person who expected everything to just happen for him.
I'd enjoy taking him down a peg or two if we were going to spend more time together. I wasn't a big fan of egos so big.
"That doesn't sound like a bad thing."
"It isn't," Caleb responded. "It's made sure that the shifter community is well supported and can sustain itself."
"And yet, here you are wanting to bring me back into the fold." It was my turn to lean back in my chair.
"That's more for your sake—" Eric started.
"Look, no matter what you know about me that I don't know myself, I am not here to be saved. I've had a great life. My parents loved me and did everything to bring me up the right way. I might not have known my true heritage, but that doesn't mean I need to be saved from my life." My voice was a little sharp, but he needed to get the picture. I wasn’t and never would be a damsel in distress.
"Got it," Eric muttered, looking down at the coffee in front of him.
Hmm. Had that worked? It seemed unlikely. I imagined I'd have to remind him about it a couple more times.
"Back to where we were..." I continued to quiz them about the various aspects of shifter life, but they didn't say anything that took me by surprise. It was almost like all the fiction books had gotten it right in some way or another.
"All kinds of shifters live together," Eric said, answering my latest question.
"It's like a zoo up there," Bryce added.
I frowned and shot him a weird look. Was he trying to be funny? I wasn't completely convinced it was working, but if he thought it was then I'd just let him go with it. He wasn't hurting anyone. "And different kinds of shifters mate with each other?"
They nodded.
"Okay. So, I guess my next question has to be if fated mates is a real thing?"
I could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. I thought I knew the answer already. As far as I was concerned, there
had to be some reason why I felt oddly drawn to them. And why they'd been so eager to come collect me for the pack. Eurgh, that was an awful way of looking at it, but I didn't have time to think of a better one.
"Yes," Caleb answered. "Fated mates are a real thing." His eyes met mine and I wanted to melt. There was so much hidden emotion in them that I couldn't ignore it.
But I was going to have to.
"What about..." I trailed off, not knowing the best way to phrase the next question I had.
"About?" Eric asked, swallowing nervously. Ah. So he wasn't the cocky a-hole he was pretending to be. That was good to know.
"Is it possible to have more than one mate?" I blurted out, only to be cut off by the waitress setting four burgers down in front of us.
Darn it. That had been an important moment. I'd planned on watching their faces to see how they reacted. Not just to discover whether or not it was true, but how they felt about it too.
"The more the merrier." Bryce winked as he said it.
A small laugh escaped me, but I had no idea if he was just kidding or not. I turned to Caleb. His answer was the one I'd trust the most.
"Yes. Multiple fated mates is a thing. It's rarer than one on one though."
"And it's accepted?" That was the most important thing to me, even if I couldn't explain why I wanted to know to them.
"Yes. Our alpha is mated to a woman with two other mates," Eric added.
"Huh. But he isn't mated to multiple people himself?" It seemed odd that the alpha only had one mate while his mate had three.
"I don't think so. It's hard to know what goes on behind closed doors." Bryce shrugged and I had to admit that he was right there. Without talking to the man in a completely open and honest conversation, we had no way of knowing.
We ate in silence, them really wolfingdown their food. I chuckled at my own bad joke as I watched them eat, and they stopped to stare at me.
“What?” Eric said.
“N-nothing,” I stammered out. “Just, er, amazed at how fast life can turn around in a couple of hours.” I gave them a wide-eyed, innocent look and they smiled and nodded, then went back to eating.
When they’d eaten every bite on their plates and the rest of mine, we paid—Eric paid, rather. He was insistent.
I didn’t really argue very hard, though. I’d wanted them to buy, anyway.
“You should come meet our Alpha and his family,” Bryce said as we walked back to my dorm. “I’m sure they’d answer any other questions we have about having more than one partner.”
“We?” I asked without looking at him. The late spring evening was gorgeous, and I breathed deep, loving the smell of honeysuckle.
“Oh, I just meant we’d go with you if you’d like,” he said with a laugh and a surreptitious glance at his friends. He probably thought I couldn’t see him, but I had great peripheral vision.
“I’d love to, and we definitely will, soon. But this is finals week. I shouldn’t have even taken the time to go eat with you. If I don’t ace these finals, the vet school won’t even consider me.”
“You’re going to vet school?” Caleb said eagerly. “Does that mean you’ve got a biology degree?” He pushed past Eric and Bryce to walk beside me.
“I do,” I said with a smile. I wanted to encourage him to talk more and not be so shy with me.
“I’ve always been interested in the sciences,” he said, lowering his eyes.
“Don’t be ashamed of that. You’re talking to a scientist. I think other science-minded people are hot,” I said, putting a bit of husk in my voice to drive my point home. “Talk etiology to me, baby.”
He burst out laughing, but Bryce and Eric just rolled their eyes. “She’s as bad as he is,” Bryce stage whispered to Eric. “They’re going to gang up on us, I can feel it.”
Eric murmured his agreement. I turned around to see what his face looked like and walked backwards. He stared at me with an odd expression on his face.
“What?” I asked him.
“Most people dismiss Caleb, or belittle his intelligence, even in the shifter community. You don’t.”
“Who would, and why? That’s horrible!” I wanted to rip the throats out of anyone that would belittle the obviously shy man. He was absolutely gorgeous, and as he aged would be one of the most handsome men most people would ever see. That he was extremely intelligent on top of it was like finding a huge diamond in the yard of the house someone gave you.
It just didn’t happen very often.
As I geared myself up for a good tirade about how fucked up people were, Eric’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth. At the same time, Caleb tugged on my arm and Bryce yelled, “Look out!”
A split second later I knew why they were freaking out. I slammed into what felt like a brick wall, if brick walls said fuck.
I whirled around to discover I’d backed smack into the one person I really didn’t want to see ever again.
The only guy I’d dated on campus. Josh. Ugh. “Sorry,” I muttered, then tried to dart around him and continue on my way.
“Hold up there, April. Long time, no see. I’ve been looking for you.”
The behemoth of a man-child grabbed my arm to stop me, causing a visceral reaction in all three of my guys. Caleb still had his hand on my other arm, and he moved closer to me, putting an arm around my waist.
Bryce stepped forward, crowding behind me and Caleb.
Eric actually growled. He stopped himself a second later, but I heard a distinct warning rumble.
“Let go of her,” Eric said in a voice so low it was almost a growl itself.
Josh’s face twisted into mock amusement. “What are you, her bodyguards?” His grip on my arm tightened, and I winced.
“Something like that,” Caleb said, pulling me closer to him with his hand on my waist. Unfortunately for my arm, it made the one in Josh’s hand hurt more.
“I’m not going to say it again,” Eric said. Well, snarled, really. He was super pissed.
Josh’s face lost it’s fake merriment and went dark. “Or what, you’ll kick my ass, three-to-one?”
“Yes,” Bryce said simply. “If they can get to you while I’m ripping out your throat.”
Well, that was quite far enough. As they’d talked, I’d been letting my arm go lax, as if giving in to Josh. I moved fast, jerking it out of his grip.
“That’s quite e-fucking-nough,” I snarled at Josh. “I’m sorry I bumped into you, but you have no goddamn right to grab my arm. Do it again and you’ll regret it.” I’d already proven this to him. “I don’t need bodyguards, as you may remember, motherfucker.”
Eric growled again, probably wondering why he’d need to remember how well I could take care of myself.
“I kicked your ass once, I’ll do it again.” Josh was big, but damn he’d gone down hard.
“You little bitch. You got a free date, treated like a princess, then when it was time to pay the piper you turned into a fucking cock tease.”
All three men behind me tensed, and I could feel them about to explode. “Maybe if your cock wasn’t such a joke I wouldn’t have teased.”
Maybe poking the big, angry bear wasn’t the best idea, but it was who I was. I couldn’t help myself.
Josh lunged at me, but I was ready for him. I ducked, and as I lowered my body, I shot my fist out and punched him as hard as I could right in his crotch.
Caleb reacted almost as fast as I did, tightening his hand around my waist and jerking me backward. I barely had time to get my dickpunch in before being jerked backward off my feet. Since I’d ducked down as he pulled me, I ended up folded in half as he pulled me backward onto the lawn of the Math building.
Bryce and Eric were clearly ready to take him down, but I’d already done the job. Josh was rolling around on the sidewalk, moaning.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said from Caleb’s arms. “Put me down.” I patted his arm. He set me on the sidewalk and we walked quickly away from Josh.
“Who was that?” Eric asked once we were safely out of the way. “I had a hard time not ripping his head off.”
“We had a class my sophomore year. We went on one date,” I said as we walked quickly back to my apartment. My adrenaline raced, making me feel like I was on an upper.
I unlocked my dorm door quickly, letting us all in. “Guys, it’s after eight, and I have to turn in a paper at seven in the morning. I gotta finish it.”
“We will leave you, for now,” Eric said with a small head nod.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“At home,” Bryce said with a laugh. “Where else?” I hadn’t thought about them just going back home. It felt like they must live far away. It was hard to imagine they’d been right under my nose the whole time.
“What are you studying?” Caleb asked.
“I’m doing my senior project on immunology,” I told him.
His eyes lit up. “I’ve been reading about that,” he said excitedly. “Want some help studying?”
“Sure,” I said. “I have to turn the final paper in tomorrow. It’s pretty much done, would you care to give it a proofread while I finalize the bibliography?”
“I’m your man,” he said with the first real smile I’d seen from him.
“Do you prefer printed or electronic?” I asked him.
He chose print, so I turned on my printer and got the long paper going. “It’ll take a few minutes. It’s long.”
Eric and Bryce settled on the couch while I sat at my desk, moving all my bibliography notes to the document on my phone.
“How does the town keep the tourists from finding out?” I asked as I worked.
“We are all careful. Even children know not to shift anywhere near tourist areas. We have places that are just for us. They’re more hidden and remote.” I listened to the happy lilt in Bryce’s voice. He even sounded jovial when he wasn’t teasing or joking around.
“Places?”
“Restaurants, a hotel, that sort of thing,” Eric replied.
“This is good,” Caleb said from the floor. He was on his stomach with a red pen, the first pages of my paper in front of him while the rest printed. “Have you already had this proofed?” he asked.
“No, I’ve just gone over it a few times.”
“I read that even professionally edited novels have errors in them,” he said as his eyes moved over the page. “Which would indicate in a paper written by someone at a less than professional level of editing should be full of them. I haven’t found one yet,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at his downturned head. “I think.”
We worked until late into the night. Bryce and Eric fell asleep on the couch, Eric’s head falling back and soft snores coming from his mouth. Bryce curled up, looking very much like a sleeping puppy.
Caleb stuck with me to the end, when I had a hopefully errorfree paper on immunology, bound and ready to turn in.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “It went much faster with your help.”
“My pleasure,” he said softly. He’d taken off his glasses, saying he read better without them. His eye color was more prominent without them, a dark caramel color.
I found myself staring at his eyes without speaking. My gaze drifted to his lips, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked. I’d long ago moved to sit beside him on the floor while we worked, so all I had to do was lean over to touch my lips to his.
He stiffened as I moved, but his demeanor completely changed as our lips touched. Relaxing, he reached for me, pulling me toward him. I complied, scooting over. When he put his hands around my butt and lifted me onto his lap I had to stifle a squeal. I hadn’t expected him to be so forward, as shy as he was.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s okay.”
I believed him.
Pressing my lips against his again, I grabbed his shirt and held on.
His hands roamed over my body, and every spot he touched lit on fire. Desire filled me, stronger than I’d ever felt before.
“You’re my mates, aren’t you?” I whispered. I’d been fighting it and ignoring it, but the powerful reaction a simple touch of his hand gave me couldn’t be ignored for long.
“I think we are,” he said. “Does that scare you?”
“A little,” I said, then we kissed for several more minutes, finally coming up breathless. “Does it scare you?”
“A little,” he mimicked as he unbuttoned my shirt. “Not enough to make me leave.”
“Please don’t,” I said, the thought of not being in his arms causing me to nearly panic.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” Bryce said. I hadn’t heard him move.
“Never,” Eric added.
“How do we know this is real?” I asked. “How do we know it’s meant to be?”
“Don’t you feel it?” Eric asked.
“I do, but I’m in the middle of making out with Caleb. It could just be hormones.” I knew all about biology. I knew all about pheromones. And I knew that what I was feeling was not just a chemical reaction. I had the urge to find a way to protect them, but at the same time, I wanted to rip all their clothes off and do the dirtiest things imaginable.
“When we bite you,” Bryce said.
I interrupted him. “Excuse me?” I stiffened, suddenly not okay with the whole situation.
Caleb squeezed me and put his lips on my neck. “Shhh, we won’t hurt you.”
Eric slipped off of the couch into the floor, spreading his legs so Caleb and I both fit inside them. He scooted forward until his chest was pressing against my back. He repeated Bryce’s words as Bryce settled beside the three of us. “When we bite you, it will complete our union. The bite is nothing but pleasure, for either one of us.”
“Who will bite me?” I asked.
“Eric is our alpha,” Bryce said. “Caleb and I are Omegas.”
“I don’t like the idea of a hierarchy.”
“It doesn’t work like that with us. It just means he’s bossy,” Caleb said, his lips moving on my neck. “He’s technically the alpha of our friendship, but we only let him get away with it in formal settings.”
“Okay. I can deal with that.” They didn’t answer my question. I wanted to know who would be biting me.
“If you bite me, and we aren’t truly fated mates, if we aren’t meant to be, what will happen?”
“The effects of the joining would wear off by morning. We wouldn’t feel any closer to one another than two friends might.”
“Alright then. Let’s do it.” I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me. I wasn’t normally this forward. And I had no experience to speak of either, but something about them just felt right. And who was I to deny fate?
Nerves fluttered in my stomach as Caleb helped me up while Bryce and Eric pulled out the bed from the sofa. His hand felt reassuring in mine, and for that I was grateful. I didn't really understand why they couldn't just have continued on the floor where we'd been, but I was just going to go with it. They seemed a lot more sure of what they were doing than I did, and I was happy to take my cues from them.
"Let me help you with that," Caleb said softly, his hands undoing the last few buttons and pushing the shirt off of my shoulders.
Thank goodness I had passable underwear on. It wasn't what I'd have chosen if I'd known three men were going to see me naked, but then, I didn't have any that was suited specifically for seduction.
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with the soles of the soft-footed camels. Besides these forms a flat rock surface with very shallow groves, known as rusuf, is occasionally met with.
Some of the limestone boulders lying on the surface of the plateau are perforated in the most extraordinary way. The driving sand apparently eats its way into the softer portions of the stone, boring holes into its surface. Small pebbles are often to be seen which have been blown into these holes. These fly round and round in the excavation under the influence of a strong wind, and presumably continue the erosion of the sand blast, in the same way as a stone wears a pot-hole in a stream. In course of time the whole boulder becomes so riddled with holes as to resemble a gigantic sponge.
In several places are large patches of desert more or less closely covered with round boulders up to a foot in diameter, a type of erosion known to the natives as battikh, or water-melon desert.
In other places in the desert perforated rocks and small natural arches are to be seen; while near Farafra village were a number of fine “mushrooms” and table stones cut out of the chalk by winddriven sand. Similar “mushrooms” of sandstone were, moreover, met with near the centre of the desert.
In Kharga Oasis there is an area several square miles in extent covered by curious clay ridges. These, which seemed all to be under twenty feet high, were evidently formed by the erosion of the earth by the wind-driven sand, for they all ran roughly from north to south, in the direction of the prevailing wind.
Apparently, as the sand wore away and lowered the surface of the desert, it encountered here and there harder portions of the clay which resisted its erosive action. These consequently remained protruding above the surface of the desert as the surrounding clay was eaten away by the sand blast, and consequently acted as a protection to the earth immediately to leeward of them, which remained intact above the level of the desert in the form of a ridge running in the direction of the prevailing northerly wind. I have found similar forms to the west of Dakhla and in that oasis itself.
While in the central part of the desert in my first season, I found embedded in a sand dune two short pieces of dried grass much frayed and battered;[24] so, as has already been mentioned, on leaving the camp next day, we followed the line of the sand belt, to the north as showing the direction of the prevailing wind, and so found the place from which the dried grass embedded in the dune had come.
The occurrence of this grass so far to windward of the piece I had picked up among the dunes is only another illustration of the great part the strongly predominant character of the northerly wind plays in this desert. Had we continued marching towards the north, along the same bearing as we had during the day, we should have found the oases, or hattias, of Bu Mungar, Iddaila and Sitra, all on the same line. The original seed, of which the grass we found were the descendants, were probably specimens carried by the wind from Sitra to Iddaila, where they took root and produced seed that was similarly carried to Bu Mungar and from thence—perhaps through another hattia, or oasis—to the place where we found it growing. Very probably the line of plantations of the grass may even reach to the Sudan, should there be any places along it where the seed could germinate.
ERODED ROCK, SOUTH-WEST OF DAKHLA
It is not only in the distribution of the vegetation that the agency of this predominant wind is apparent. The sand belts follow the same direction, so, too, do the clay ridges in Kharga and elsewhere; even the hills in the desert show in many cases a distinct tendency to have their longest diameter pointing up and down this north to south line. The predominant character of the northerly winds even has an effect upon the caravan roads; that, for instance, that runs from Farafra Oasis to Dakhla lies along a hollow among the sand dunes that occupy a large area in the centre of Farafra depression, that is kept permanently free of sand by the northerly wind that continually sweeps along it, so affording an easy path through what would otherwise be a most difficult dune-field to cross.
Once at ’Ain Amur I experienced a curious storm. It was a windy morning and I had been out after gazelle. On returning towards the camp, I saw in the distance what looked like very heavy rain falling in the ’Ain Amur Wady, so hurried back to the well to gain the shelter of the ruins in its neighbourhood.
The rain, however, turned out to be only a fog—or perhaps, since the well is 1,680 feet above sea-level, it would be more correct to say cloud—only a few drops fell; but for nearly an hour the whole district was enveloped in a thick white fog, while a furious wind sprung up and blew with great violence. At the end of that time the
fog cleared off, the wind suddenly dropped and a sunny and unusually hot day followed. Fog, it is needless to say, is not a common occurrence in the desert.
The word oasis is unfortunately a very vague one, to which varying meanings are applied in different parts of the world. The dictionaries usually define it as a “fertile spot in a desert.” So far so good. The difficulty comes in when one attempts to apply this definition, for one is at once faced with two problems: what constitutes “fertility” and what is the size of a “spot”?
The Wad Ghirh district, for instance, in the south of Algeria, runs for some ninety-five miles from north to south, contains about forty villages, with their palm plantations, and a population of some fifteen thousand inhabitants. Each of these villages, with its palm plantations, is regarded as one oasis. The whole Wad Ghirh district being considered a group of oases.
Kharga and Dakhla Oases, which are separated from each other by about seventy-five miles of waterless desert, were considered by the ancient writers to form one oasis, known as the “great oasis.”
Kharga Oasis, according to Dr. John Ball, who surveyed it for the Egyptian Government, is about a hundred and forty miles long from north to south, contains some fifteen villages and has a population of seven thousand eight hundred odd. All this is considered even now to form one oasis.
To the north-west of Kharga lies a little place known as ’Ain Um Debadib, where there is a considerable area of scrub, with a few palms and sunt (i.e. acacia) trees. A certain amount of ground is cultivated here by a family from Kharga village, who, however, do not always reside there. This is usually considered a separate oasis.
In the eastern part of the Farafra depression is an area, some sixteen miles by twelve, covered with scrub, among which a few date palms, which seemed to be to some extent cultivated, are also to be seen. This place is known as Kairowin. There are no permanent houses or inhabitants, though frequently bedawin living in tents, or brushwood huts, are to be found there with their camels. The place
contains several wells, and is sometimes described as an oasis, though the natives more usually allude to it as a hattia.
At ’Ain Amur, half-way between Kharga and Dakhla, is a well, some ruins, a patch of scrub and a palm or two. This, however, never has any residents—the well being only used by travellers between Kharga and Dakhla. This place is usually described as a hattia, though I have heard even this called an oasis.
From places such as this there is a regular gradation through scrub-covered patches containing water, but no palms, scrubcovered areas containing no water, and mere patches of half a dozen bushes clustered together in the desert, called by the Arabs roadhs, to places that remain sufficiently damp after one of the rare desert showers to allow a few widely scattered blades of grass to grow, which the bedawin call redirs.
It is very difficult to see where to draw the line. The system adopted in Algeria of describing places like Kharga and Wad Ghirh as groups of oases—or oasis-archipelagos, as they are sometimes called—seems preferable to the Egyptian plan of alluding to them as a single oasis. It would seem advisable to confine the term oasis to a place which is actually cultivated, whether continuously inhabited or not, and to use the word hattia for “fertile spots” in the desert where no cultivation exists. The dividing-line, however, between a hattia and a deserted oasis would not be very sharply drawn.
The western oases of Egypt were known to the ancients, for some reason not very apparent, as “the Islands of the Blest”—a name that to a modern visitor has an air of being somewhat ironical.
They are usually said to lie in depressions of the plateau. So far as Baharia is concerned this is an accurate description, for it is almost entirely surrounded by cliffs; but in the case of Farafra and Kharga, the scarps of the limestone plateau only partly hem them in, and they would be more correctly said to be situated at their base. Dakhla, in the same way, lies at the southern foot of the chalk plateau that forms the floor of Farafra Oasis, and gradually rises in level as it proceeds southwards from Qasr Farafra, until it breaks down in the huge cliff that bounds Dakhla Oasis on its north and
east. The little oasis of ’Ain Um Debadib, lying slightly to the west of Kharga, is also only bounded on the north by the cliff. Kharga towards the east, north and north-west is hemmed in by cliffs and hills. The cliff in places, on the eastern side, is nearly eight hundred feet in height, but is considerably lower at the northern end.
Starting from the north, on the western side of the oasis, a jumbled mass of hills, cliffs and sand dunes extend for about thirty miles towards the south to form its boundary. South of this, a long north and south belt of dunes runs parallel with the eastern scarp, and cuts off the oasis from the open desert lying to the west. At its southern end, the oasis merges into the desert without any welldefined boundary.
To anyone standing, say, on the eastern scarp and looking down on to the floor of the oasis, it would appear as flat and almost as featureless as the surface of the sea when viewed from the summit of a high cliff. Two huge flat-topped hills rise abruptly from the level oasis floor, near the eastern cliff, to the height of the plateau above it; they are known as Jebel Ghennihma and Jebel Um el Ghenneiem, and stand about thirty-five and forty miles respectively from the northern end of the oasis. Almost facing them on its western side stand Jebel Taaref and Jebel Ter. With the exception of these four hills and the smaller conical peak known as Gorn el Genna jutting up from the centre of the oasis floor, there are no conspicuous elevations to break its level monotony.
The amount of land under cultivation is extremely small compared with the total area of the oasis. Dr. Ball estimated the latter to extend to considerably over three thousand square kilometres, but states that out of this only nineteen square kilometres are under irrigation. The cultivated portions consist in some cases of patches merely an acre or two in extent. Only in the neighbourhood of Kharga village is there a really large area of continuous cultivation. Here, a long strip, some four miles from north to south, by about two-thirds of a mile from east to west, covering altogether about a thousand acres, forms a practically continuous grove of palms and cultivated land. The size of the average patch of cultivation may be taken as being some sixty-five to seventy acres. Each plot is usually known by the name
of the well that irrigates it, or in cases where it contains more than one, by the name of the principal well.
The irrigation is effected entirely by means of artesian wells, some of which date back to a remote period, and are said by the native to have been the work of the Romans.
These wells and the modern native ones, which are modelled on them, are sunk by means of primitive boring appliances and lined with acacia-wood pipes. They are usually all owned by several proprietors, among whom the flow of water is distributed by methods that probably date back to a remote past. When a crop—such as rice —is being grown that requires continuous irrigation, the yield of water is divided up by means of what is known as a rice gauge. This consists of a board with a series of notches in its upper edge, through which the water flows—each proprietor being entitled to the amount that runs through a notch, whose width corresponds with the proportion of the yield from the well to which he is entitled. When intermittent irrigation is required, the owners of the well draw their water in rotation in accordance with a most complicated system. The moment at which each is to commence taking his share is ascertained by a most ingenious and intricate method of telling the time, in which one of the men converts himself into a kind of human sundial.
A S K .
The housetops are a favourite resort of the women To ensure privacy a row of palm leaves is stuck upright into the top of the wall (p 313 )
In addition to Kharga village, which is the principal centre in the oasis, a few other villages and hamlets lie scattered at intervals near the wells sunk within the oasis area.
These villages are divided into two main groups, the principal, taking them in order from north to south, are Meheriq, Kharga, Gennah and Bulaq in the northern group. South of these lies a stretch of desert for a long day’s journey, containing no village and only two or three isolated wells. After this, Jaja and Dakhakhin, the two northernmost settlements of the southern group are reached.
Jaja being to the east of Dakhakhin and two or three miles away Some ten miles farther south lies Beris—the chief village of the southern group, followed by Maks Bahry (Northern Maks), and Maks Qibly (Southern Maks); five miles to the east of the latter lies the village of Dush. This constitutes the southern group.
Kharga village, though surrounded by some fine palm plantations, is a wretched, squalid place. As is often the case in desert towns, the streets in many places run through tunnels, formed by the upper stories of the houses being built out over the roadways. In Kharga, however, this peculiarity is carried to an unusual extent—many of the tunnels being so low that it is impossible to stand upright in them, and of such a length as to be completely dark. The natives say they were constructed in this manner for defensive reasons, in order that an enemy gaining access to the town should lose his way in the darkened streets.
The houses were all, so far as I saw, constructed of the usual sundried mud bricks, the roofs being supported on palm-trunk rafters. They were, however, peculiar in having the parapet surrounding the flat housetop surmounted by a sort of fence of palm leaves set into the top of the wall, in order apparently to heighten it and make the housetop more private, without incurring the expense of the additional brickwork. In some of the better houses the inside of this fence was plastered with clay to form a sort of wattle and daub, through which small windows were often cut so that the inhabitants could look through without being seen themselves. When a house was built beside an open street, balconies supported by an extension of the rafters were sometimes projected over the road and walled in with the usual fence, to allow the inmates of the house to get a view up and down the road.
Here and there some attempt was made to decorate the exterior of the house by rough painting round the windows—this usually taking the form of radiating lines of whitewash. One house had a sort of trefoil arch over the doorway surmounted by a projecting window, the front of which was pierced by a number of small square holes— apparently in imitation of the meshrebia, or lattice work, of the Nile Valley towns.
A considerable amount of rushwork is manufactured in Kharga in the form of panniers for donkeys and mats for covering the floor. The latter are made on a primitive loom stretched out upon the ground. No shuttle is used, the rushes being woven across the strings that form the basis of the mat by hand.
Kharga Oasis is richer in archæological remains than any of the others. In early times the place was evidently of greater importance than it is at present, and probably supported a larger population.
It is known to have been inhabited at a very remote period, even as far back as the reign of Thothmes III (1503-1449 B.C.). In early days it seems to have been used mainly as a place of exile. This is a use to which it seems to have been frequently put, and continues to be to this day. In A.D. 435 the Bishop Nestorius was banished to Kharga on account of his revolutionary views. Here he founded a Coptic Colony. A large Christian Necropolis, at Nadura, near Kharga village, and several mud monasteries, constructed much in the form of castles, evidently as a defence against their enemies, still remain in very fair preservation as mementos of his exile.
Ruins of ancient mud-built towns and villages are to be found in several places, notably those of Hibis to the north of Kharga village, in the neighbourhood of the temple of that name, and those of Tchonemyris, near the temple of Qasr Zaiyan. There are also the remains of the old town of Kysis lying close to the temple of the same name, which is now known to the natives as Qasr Dush.
The Romans, during their occupation of the oasis, built several forts and castles, the exteriors of which bear a striking resemblance to the old Norman Keeps to be found in England.
The most important of these forts, a building for some reason known to the natives as Ed Der—the monastery—lies in the northern part of the oasis close to the north foot of Jebel Ghennihma. It consists of an enclosure some sixty yards square, surrounded by mud-brick walls ten feet thick and about thirty in height, with a circular tower at each corner and two semicircular turrets projecting from each of its sides. From its position it was evidently intended to guard the entrance to the oasis down the wady, through which the
railway now runs. The fort at present is merely an enclosure, and no trace remains of any buildings in its interior.
Here and there in the oasis are to be seen small mud-brick buildings, the interiors of which have their walls honeycombed with the little cubical niches eight inches in each direction. These are usually found at some distance from any village or existing remains. They are generally considered to have been dovecots; but it has also been suggested that they were intended to contain cinerary urns.
By far the most interesting ruin, however, to be found in the oasis is that of the sandstone Temple of Hibis, a short distance to the north of Kharga village. This, which is the only temple or public building of any importance to be found in Egypt dating from the time of the Persian dynasty, was begun by Darius I, and completed in 424 B.C. by Darius II, as Brugsch has shown from the hieroglyphics.
About a mile to the south-east of the Temple of Hibis, conspicuously placed on some high ground, are the ruins of a small sandstone building, known as the Temple of Nadura.
A mile or two to the south of the hill known as the Gorn el Gennah is a small temple known as Qasr el Guehda—a name often locally pronounced Wehda. It consists of a small sandstone building, measuring about eleven yards from north to south, by twenty from east to west.
The temple itself lies in an enclosure of mud bricks, possibly of later date, entered on the eastern side through a stone gateway.
About three miles farther to the south lies the small temple known as Qasr Zaiyan, a much smaller building than Qasr Guehda. Like it, it seems to have been surrounded by a wall of mud bricks, forming an enclosure filled with small mud-built buildings.
I did not visit the Temple of Kysis, or Qasr Dush, as the natives call it, which lies in the extreme south of the oasis. For a description of this, and for a fuller account of the antiquities of this oasis, the reader is referred to the works of Schweinfurth, Brugsch, Hoskins and Dr. John Ball.
’Ain Um Debadib, the little oasis already mentioned, is situated about twenty-two miles farther west.
Still farther to the west, the next oasis—if such it can be called—is that of ’Ain Amur, of which mention has already been made. It lies about twenty-four miles W.S.W. of ’Ain Um Debadib, close to the top of a precipitous cliff facing the northern boundary of a portion of the detached limestone plateau to which reference has already been made.
’Ain Amur stands some 1,680 feet above sea-level. The existence of a well at such a high altitude, in an excessively arid region like the Libyan Desert, is something in the nature of a phenomenon. Its presence, however, is easily explained: the top of the plateau is covered with a layer of limestone, below which is a bed of clay. Showers of rain are not quite unknown, even in this desert, and occasionally, according to the natives, there is a regular downpour. Some of the water falling on the flat limestone surface certainly finds its way through it by way of the numerous cracks to be seen on its surface. The downward progress of this water is stopped on reaching the clay, through which it can only penetrate extremely slowly. Where the strata are not absolutely horizontal, the water flows along the upper surface of the clay, protected from evaporation by the overlying limestone, until it comes to the surface at the edge of the plateau, a little distance below the summit of the cliff.
The Arab word ’Ain, strictly speaking, means a flowing well or spring. The well at ’Ain Amur, however, did not, so far as I could see, flow at all. It consists simply of an ordinary vertical well-shaft, the water in which lies about eight feet below the ground level, and is reached by an inclined path, or stair, leading down to it from the eastern side.
The well stands near the foot of a single scraggy palm tree. A certain amount of wild palm scrub is to be seen near the well, and a short distance away is a patch of green rushes, where I was told there had formerly been another well; but this was quite filled up— probably by the wind-blown dust—at the time of my visit. The water in the well was dirty and rather bitter, but otherwise quite potable.
Water could perhaps be found at other places in the neighbourhood, as there is a long strip of green camel thorn—argul —running horizontally along the cliff below the plateau, at the level of the well, which lies near its western end.
Formerly ’Ain Amur must have been a place of some importance. Close to the well are the ruins of a small stone temple still showing traces of paint, and situated, like many of the temples in Kharga Oasis, in the centre of a walled enclosure of sun-dried bricks, possibly intended as a defence. The well is placed within this enclosure—little of which now remains.
About forty miles west from ’Ain Amur lies Dakhla Oasis. Like Kharga it is really a group of oases, with spaces of desert between them—or perhaps it would be more correct to say two groups, for the Belat-Tenida district on its eastern side is quite distinct from the remainder of the oasis, from which it is separated by several miles of waterless desert. The inhabitants of Belat and Tenida are consequently of a slightly different type from those of the rest of the oasis, and though only a few miles away from them, speak a rather different dialect—the hard K = Q being strongly pronounced at Belat and in the eastern group of oases, while it is slurred over in the western part and pronounced as it is in Cairo.
Dakhla Oasis differs somewhat from Kharga in that the villages are less scattered and, so to speak, more closely packed together. Owing, too, to the better water supply it is very much more fertile. Dakhla, too, is more favourably situated than Kharga, as it nestles at the foot of a great east and west cliff, three or four hundred feet in height, that protects it to a great extent from the prevailing northerly winds. Kharga, on the other hand, runs from north to south, with the result that the tearing desert gales sweep down upon it from the north with their full force. Dakhla runs east and west—with an extension towards the north at its western end, where the sheltering cliff forms a deep bay towards the north-east, measuring about six miles from north to south. The south-western portion of the oasis, in which the capital town of Mut is placed, is consequently more exposed to the prevailing winds.
Mut itself—the last place to the south-west—lies about eighteen miles from the escarpment, while most of the other villages are within five or six miles of the sheltering cliff, which form the boundary of the oasis on its northern and eastern sides. On the south the oasis merges gradually into the higher desert beyond, while to the west it is hemmed in by a huge field of dunes.
The eastern group of oases in Dakhla, in addition to the villages of Tenida and Belat, includes a number of ezbas (farms or hamlets), each consisting of a well or two with the surrounding palm plantations and cultivation and a few houses. Generally the whole ezba is owned by one individual, or at any rate by a single family.
In addition to a number of ezbas, the western group contains the following small towns and villages: Smint, Masara, Mut, Hindau, Qalamun, Gedida, Mushia, Rashida, Budkhulu and Qasr Dakhl—the last lying in the extreme north-west of the group, close under the shelter of the scarp. These villages vary greatly in size. Qasr Dakhl, the largest, with the ezbas that go with it, being estimated in 1898 to have a population of 3,758, with 3,428 feddans (acres) of cultivated land and 49,758 palm trees. Budkhulu, the smallest village, with its dependencies, had a population of 583, with 893 feddans of land under cultivation and 12,302 palms.
In addition to date palms a considerable number of other fruit trees are cultivated—oranges, tangerines, lemons, sweet lemons, limes, figs, mulberries, bananas, olives and almonds being planted under the shade of the palms. About one-fourteenth of the cultivated land is under fruit trees—principally palms—the remainder being devoted to field crops, chiefly wheat, barley, rice, clover and vegetables. Similar fruit trees and field crops are grown in Kharga.
Goats, sheep, donkeys, cattle and a few horses are kept in addition to pigeons, fowls, a few rabbits and a considerable number of turkeys. The cattle of the oases are a rather noted breed, not unlike our Channel Islanders in appearance. Buffaloes are either few, or non-existent. Camels—with the exception of about half a dozen owned by the Senussi zawias (monasteries) and used by the sheykhs in their visits to their headquarters in Kufara—are not kept
permanently in Dakhla oases, as a fly makes its appearance in the spring whose bite is as fatal to these beasts as the tsetse fly is to horses in other parts of Africa. During the winter months, however, large herds of camels are sent by the bedawin of the Nile Valley to pasture in the scrub-covered areas lying on the eastern and southern sides of the oasis; but these are removed before the camelfly appears in the spring.
Practically the whole population of the oasis is engaged in the cultivation of the land. The only manufactures of which the oasis can boast are the making of a little rough pottery and a few baskets. The women also spin small quantities of wool by means of a primitive hand distaff and spindle, and embroider their robes with the thread they produce. A small quantity of oil is also extracted from the olives, and, I believe, occasionally exported to the Nile Valley.
The buildings and villages closely resemble those in Kharga Oasis, though owing to the more wealthy character of the inhabitants the houses are frequently on a larger scale; but, as in the case of Kharga, the dwellings of the poorer natives are little better than hovels. Many of the villages are surrounded by a series of small walled-in yards into which the cattle are driven at night, and which play the part generally of farm buildings in other countries.
In some of the villages—notably Mushia, Gedida and Qalamun, which lie on the western side of the oasis, on the edge of the dune belt—the sand hills and drift sand are encroaching on the cultivation, burying the palm groves, swamping the wells and doing an immense amount of damage.
Though the depression to the north of Dakhla, in which the oasis of Farafra lies, is far larger than those in which Kharga, Dakhla and Bahariya are situated, Farafra is a miserable little place containing only about twenty wells all told, with only two oases permanently inhabited. Of these, Qasr Farafra, the larger, has a population of only about 550; while the smaller—’Ain Sheykh Murzuk—contains only one or two houses and a small Senussi zawia, the number of inhabitants probably not much exceeding twenty. At the time of my
visit practically all the natives of this oasis were affiliated to the Senussia—and a most surly unpleasant lot they were.
Baharia, the next oasis to the north, is said to be of similar type to Kharga and Dakhla; but I did not visit it. It is peculiar owing to the large number of small isolated rocky hills to be seen scattered about the floor of the depression. Neither did I visit the oasis of Siwa, still farther north in the Wady el Fardy. It has, however, been frequently described.
NOTE
Since this Appendix was written, Hassanein Bey has visited and fixed the positions of Arkenu and Owenat (Owanet). My information upon Owanat seems to have been fairly accurate. The well at the base of the cliff, the pass leading from it, the high-level oasis above, the vegetation and the sand dunes in the district, and even the Barbary sheep, have all been verified. The position I gave it, too, from my native information was reasonably correct, being only about twenty-one miles out, as compared with an error of about twenty-five miles in the position of Kufara as fixed by Rohlfs’ expedition by astronomical observations.
My estimate, however, of the nature of Jebel el Owanat—the high land above the well—seems to have been wrong. But this, I think, is due to misunderstanding on my part and not to any error on the part of my informant. “Jebel”—the term he used to describe the high land at Owanat, means literally mountain, but is a term used in the western desert of Egypt to signify the high flat tablelands of which the desert in that part is mainly composed. The oases in this district all lie near the foot of the precipitous scarps that bound these tablelands; so, as he mentioned a cliff in the proximity of the well at Owanat, I assumed the “Jebel” to be of the same character as in the neighbourhood of the Egyptian oases.
Hassanein Bey fixed the western limit of this elevated ground and also its northern and southern boundaries, but though he made a
survey of some twenty-five miles to the east of the well, he was unable to fix its eastern extension. So far as it is possible to judge from his description and photographs, this elevated land seems to be of much the same flat-topped character as the “jebels” round the oases of Western Egypt, but so far as is at present known its limited area makes it correspond more to Colonel Tilho’s estimate of its character of a detached massif than to a tableland strictly speaking.
It is to be hoped that future travellers before long will revisit this district and fix the eastern limit of Jebel el Owanat. Similar high ground was reported to me as lying to the north of “the Egyptian Oasis,” some 130 miles to the east of Owanat, and it is possible, if this information is to be relied upon, that these two places are connected by some hill feature, of which the high land at Owanat is the western limit.
The accurate mapping of Owanat, with its permanent water supply by Hassanein Bey, should be of great assistance to future travellers, as it affords a most useful base for further exploration.
The difficulty, however, is to reach it. The old road that I surveyed to the south-west of Dakhla Oasis for some 200 miles unquestionably leads to Owanat; but it is very doubtful whether it is practicable with camels at the present time. The distance from Dakhla to Owanat in a straight line is some 375 miles, or at least fifteen days’ hard travelling by caravan. A small well-mounted party travelling light, even in the most favourable part of the year, would find this an extremely formidable journey, without the use of some sort of depot or relay system.
This road has been disused probably for centuries, as in most places all traces have been completely weathered away. But from its size in the few sheltered places where it is still visible it obviously at one time was one of the main caravan routes of the desert. Moreover, there were indications upon it that it had been largely used by the old slave traders.
It can, I think, be assumed with absolute certainty that no main road of this kind can have existed that contained a waterless stretch of 375 miles—especially one over which large numbers of slaves
were forced to travel, as the water supply in these caravans was always a most serious problem.
We are consequently forced to the conclusion that an intermediate well, or oasis, once existed between Dakhla and Owanat. It may have been only a well with an ordinary vertical shaft, which has long since been sanded up and obliterated; but it may be the oasis containing olive trees, on which the palm doves I found migrating from this direction into Dakhla had been feeding. The direction from which they came, viz. 217° Mag.,[25] I discovered afterwards to be almost exactly the bearing of Jebel Abdulla from Mut and so of the old road that we followed to reach it. Justus Perthes’ map on a scale of 1/4.000.000, published in 1892, and also the 1/2.000.000 map, revised to 1899, published by the French Service géographique de l’Armée show an unnamed well, or oasis, by a high steep hill and another oasis to the east of it. The German map describes the oasis as being uninhabited, while the French states it to be inhabited. It has been suggested that Arkenu represents the well by the hill and Owanat the oasis farther east, and there can be little doubt that this Arkenu-Owanat district is the one to which they refer. But neither Arkenu nor Owanat can claim to be oases strictly speaking—they would both be more accurately described as wells: so it would appear that one of them—probably Owanat—represents the well and that the oasis has yet to be found. Very likely the failure of the water supply at this point led to the road becoming abandoned. A road running up from the Central Sudan, as this does, towards Cairo and the other wealthy towns of the northern part of Egypt, where slave traders could find the best possible market for their wares, must have been so convenient that it would not have been abandoned without very good cause. If this road could again be made serviceable by the restoration of this water supply, it might still prove to be one of great value.
From what I saw of that part of the desert, I feel certain that this intermediate oasis, or well, is not nearer Dakhla than Jebel Abdulla— my farthest point along the road—nor can it be much farther. It is certainly not in the immediate vicinity of that hill, but it cannot, I think, be more than 50 or, at the outside, 75 miles farther on. It probably
lies rather to the east of the direct line joining the hill and Owanat, as the road seemed to be trending rather in that direction.
But the most promising side from which to reach Owanat seems to be from the east, using Bir Natrun, Legia, Selima or Terfawi as a jumping-off point. My information as to Merga was derived from several informants whose intelligence—with one exception—all agreed in the distance and bearings from Bir Natrun and Legia, so, assuming these two places to be correctly placed on the map, the position of Merga is not likely to be very far in error. The “Egyptian Oasis”—if it exists—would make a still better starting-point. Assuming that it does, there should be no difficulty in discovering it, as it would only be necessary to follow the line of the sand dunes until it was sighted.