Part 3

_Tuesday, Dec. 6._——Our steamer made a long stop at Edfou to-day, as is customary, to let passengers see its splendid temple. This is the most complete, and the best preserved in Egypt, and gives one the best idea of ancient Egyptian architecture. Its massive pylons had long been in sight as we steamed up the river. As soon as the steamer stopped we took donkeys and started toward them through the winding mud-walled streets of the little town. What a temple! A book would fail to do it justice! Every inch of it is covered with the most beautiful carving. I have not space nor time to tell of how we climbed the pylons and wandered through the dark mysterious chambers, and stood in admiration before those beautiful and ever varied pillars, and explored dark winding passages built in the walls themselves. One has an overwhelming sense of sublimity and awe as he stands under the shadow and in the profound hush of these sacred monuments of a departed glory. We tied up for the night at Gebel Silsileh, a narrow, rocky passage, through which the river seems to have burst its way. Here we went on shore and with the help of torches examined the tombs and chapels and noted quarries. The perfect silence here was almost painful. There was not even the usual gentle murmur of “backsheesh.” Returning to our steamer we took a moonlight row up the river, and over to the opposite shore. Ruins and moonlight, and a boat ride on the Nile! Could anything be more romantic? Here is a picture hung upon the walls of memory never to be forgotten.

_Wednesday, Dec. 7._——We have run aground twice to-day. We passed the ruins of Comombo early this morning, and now we are at Assouan, with another stage of our journey accomplished. We have visited the bazaars, where all sorts of curiosities from Nubia and the Soudan are sold, and had crowds of wild-looking, long-haired, grease-smeared and more than half naked desert Arabs thronging around us, and have been besieged with strange looking people with stranger looking things to sell, of which we bought none. In fact, our novel experiences in and about the town would, if all told, be a tale too lengthy for these brief pages. We also visited the island of Elephantine, with its ruins of pottery, human skeletons, and interesting Nile meter. Ibrahim was dispatched the first thing on our arrival, to secure a dahabeyeh for us. He has returned, and reports that he has found one, such as it is, which will take us and our baggage from here to Korosko for £5. We have agreed to take two men, Mousa and Ibrahim Cohen, with us to Khartoum to lighten our expenses. Then we have Mongades, the Bible Society’s man with us, so that we shall really have to pay for the dahabeyeh only about £3. We have been invited to see a “fantasia,” but our taste not being cultivated in that direction we declined.

_Thursday, Dec. 8._——Some one was sick in the night. Thinking it might be the Doctor I jumped out of bed to go to him, and landed in cold water! The ship had sprung a leak. All the rooms on one side were found to be flooded, and the engine-room was a pond. The pumps were put to work, but it was some hours before the water was where it belonged. Some things in my room were spoiled. We started early for Philæ, where our dahabeyeh lay, at the other end of the cataract. It was five miles, and we took camels so as to gain a little experience in riding preparatory to the long desert journey. Our route lay through the ancient bed of a river. On the way we visited the famous granite quarries, and saw the huge obelisk left partially cut out of its bed. We all went on board our dahabeyeh for lunch. The stars and stripes had been raised, and we also ordered up the English flag in honor of our guests. After lunch, while Ibrahim and Mourgan were getting our baggage on board, we, the party, took a small boat and rowed out to the interesting island of Philæ. First we rowed around it to get a comprehensive view of its beautiful temples. Then we landed, and examined them all in detail. We also visited the ruins of a little Christian church, which an American has discovered.

_Friday, Dec. 9._——For some reason I did not sleep well, and was up early and over the side of the dahabeyeh for a good swim in the Nile. A light breeze soon sprang up, the sail was set, and at 8.30 A.M. we were off, the Englishmen still in the cataract. We passed an island to the right of Philæ, stopped for a few moments at a little village where some of our sailors lived and then we were off again, slowly passing immense granite boulders, between narrow banks fringed with dom-palms and very black Nubians, creeping along pretty fast for the light wind that just fills our big sail. We pass Debod, and then towards evening the wind goes down, and we have to make the bank and tie up. We do not remain here long, however. Our Reis, who is a fine fellow, ever on the alert, hears a rustling in the trees, a gale is upon us; the big sail is quickly flung out, and we start almost with a bound and strike a rock! The captain reports “no leak,” and off we go again, fairly flying before the wind. After a while it dies down and once more we have to make the bank and tie up just this side of Gebel Kalabshe. Here we go ashore and wander about, but are quickly recalled by the Reis. A good steady breeze has followed the lull after the gale, and off we go. Now we enter scenery that in the deep shadows of the moonlight is grand and sublime in the extreme. The granite mountains tower up from the water’s edge close to us on either side. There are deep gorges and overhanging cliffs, and huge boulders around which the pent up river swirls and eddies. I have named this wild spot “The Gates of the Tropics,” for now we pass the invisible line and enter the tropics. The southern cross is clearly visible in the heavens near the horizon, and toward it we are flying on the wings of the wind. In the witchery of such an evening, in such a place, we sit on deck till long past the midnight hour.

_Saturday, Dec. 10._——The captain has been up all night and we have made a good run of it. It is very hot, and the wind dying down. Over we go for a swim. We have passed a rock-temple, and another very good temple at Dakkeh. The flies are getting to be a perfect pest.

_Sunday, Dec. 11._——The wind is lighter and our progress has been slower. However, we have gradually drawn away from the grand rocky mountains that rose up abruptly from the water’s edge on our left this morning, and now around us are the volcanic peaks that indicate the vicinity of Korosko. We reached Korosko at 4 P.M., having made remarkably good time from Assouan. We noticed a queer peak just before reaching the town. There is a sacred mountain with a tomb upon it just at the rear of the village. Soon after our arrival the governor and various other officials came on board. The old governor was delighted when he found that we could talk together in Turkish. The usual formality of salaams, and coffee, etc., were duly exchanged. Our camels were ready for us.

_Monday, Dec, 12._——We had a pleasant visit this morning from a merchant who arrived by caravan during the night from Darfur. We talked together in Greek. We have moved our boat higher up stream. Have received a number of visits from officials and sore-eyed men. The Doctor is having quite a practice. We have climbed the road that weary pilgrims tread to the top of the sacred mountain Gebel Aboo-Gowenah, whence we have had a fine, extensive view of the winding river, and the billowing ocean of volcanic peaks, and our own desert route that winds in and out among them. We send off a batch of letters for home, pack and get ready for our long journey. The bread is all made and properly dried.

_Tuesday, Dec, 13._——Up about 5 A.M., roused the crowd, and pushed things as fast as possible. We expected to find the camels waiting on the bank, but not a living being was in sight. Hours went by and nobody appeared; we sent two men in different directions after the sheik of the camel-drivers, but he was not! Finally patience was exhausted. We went to the Governor’s house to see if we couldn’t start things up a little. He was pretending to hold court, but dismissed the case when he saw us. Then it being the proper thing to do we raised a row with His Majesty over our delay. It had the desired effect. The sheik was speedily produced, and we rode back to the boat on donkeys, with the whole crowd at our heels. Here we soon discovered that the governor, the sheik, and every other man in the crowd was determined to have a finger in the pie, and make us pay double the proper prices for all our camels. We talked and reasoned till 1 P.M. without avail. Then we grew righteously indignant. We laid down our terms——refused to listen to another word——gave orders to have everything put back on board the boat if they were not accepted, and threatened to go on to Wady Halfa and denounce the whole crowd of them as miserable rascals. Our terms were then accepted, and they thought a good deal more of us for standing for our rights instead of yielding to their exorbitant demands. Part of the money was paid and part held in reserve; the papers were made out, the baggage weighed and loaded, and at 1.30 P.M. we started out. We went about a mile or two into the desert, and camped in a rocky ravine, and here we got everything into good shape, looked to everything connected with our water supply, and made ready for the real business of the long desert before us; and here begins our tent life.

_Wednesday, Dec. 14._——Broke camp, and started the caravan at 8.30 A.M. Now for the great desert journey! All the morning we pass peak after peak of a volcanic nature. At 2 P.M. we stopped, took a hasty bite of lunch in a sort of cave in a mountain called Elemnasir. Then on and on we go, swaying back and forth on our camels, and trying to “bone down” to the regular business before us. At 5.15 P.M. we went into camp for the night, considering it wiser not to make too long a day of the first one, as camels and men were both fresh, but to reserve our forces for the great strain toward the last. The spot chosen for our camp is a wild place under the shelter of a volcanic peak called Diakazarkha. Up goes the tent, all hands taking hold with a will. Mourgan starts a fire; now then, in the words of the “old folks’” song, “Jerusha, put the kettle on and we’ll all take tea.” Mourgan produces a marvel of a meal for such a place, and we fall to at once to do it ample justice. Our caravan consists of 19 camels and 15 men. The guide is a strong, bold fellow, thoroughly up to his business, and evidently enjoys commanding his men. The camels get only 2½ quarts of dourra a day, carry about 400 lbs. each, and are expected to go without water till we reach Murrat. Our water supply is to last us till we reach the Nile at Aboo-Hamed, as the water at Murrat is not drinkable. How brightly the stars shine out here. The stillness of the desert soon rests upon the camp, broken only by the occasional growl of a camel, and the snoring of the men.

_Thursday, Dec. 15._——We are all up early, take a hasty breakfast, pull down the tent, load the camels amid a chorus of roars and growls, and start the whole caravan at 7 A.M. More volcanic peaks. The ground is everywhere covered with balls of iron from the size of a large pea to that of a cannon-ball. The iron is so pure that the natives are able to beat these balls into knives, etc. Now we see our first mirage. It is a beautiful lake, whose surface, scarcely rippled by the gentle breeze, clearly reflects a distant mountain range. The illusion is perfect. We lunch in a cave in a place called Gamoor. We have met one caravan of cattle and another of two or three hundred camels. Our guide stopped to camp about five o’clock, thinking probably that we were exhausted by this time. He looked surprised but pleased when we protested, and informed him that we intended to make forced marches of at least twelve hours every day. On and on we went into the darkness, for it is dark at five. At 7.10 we halted and pitched our camp in a portion of the desert called _Nasbelhedoriah_. Before we arrived in camp there was a commotion. What’s the matter? Nothing, only the cook has fallen asleep and rolled off from his camel! But the shining, round face comes up with a grin, “All right, kutter herak kattir.” We are not half way to Murrat yet, and the water in our “bootleg” bottles and skins is as black as ink. A whole week more before we reach the river!

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THE CHINESE.

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THE STATISTICS FOR FEBRUARY.

Figures may be dry, and yet I am sure that a summary of those contained in the February reports from our schools cannot but interest and gratify all friends of our work. No less than 116 new pupils were enrolled in our schools during that month. Change of location or other causes produced the removal from the schools of 99. But the total number enrolled, 726, is the largest total ever reached, and the average attendance, 354, is also larger than ever before. Among the pupils thus enrolled are 119 who give evidence of Christian life. The total number who have become members of our schools during the fiscal year, thus far (_i.e._, from Sept. 1st to Feb. 28th) is 1,375.

THE CHINESE NEW YEAR.

In the month of February occurs the Chinese New Year Festival——the great holiday period for them of the entire twelvemonth. At my request, our teachers have given me some account of the way in which it was observed by our Christian Chinese in their respective localities.

Rev. Mr. Ostrom, of Oroville, who has served as a missionary in China and whose heart is still there, states the following “general facts”: “Their preparation for the New Year is commenced weeks before the close of the old. One of the first things is to plant the Narcissus——a water lily called by the Chinese ‘the water angel flower’——so that it may be in bloom on New Year’s Day. A beautiful legend connected with this flower is everywhere told and believed in China. In a certain district of the Fo Kien province lived a man who had two wives and a son by each wife. The man died, leaving a farm, which the elder brother seized, allowing to the younger brother only a small, marshy corner, through which ran a sluggish stream. These lilies were found growing in the stream——all that the marsh and stream produced. The gentler younger brother, loving the beautiful flower, cultivated it, and found that it would always bloom on the New Year. Its beauty and fragrance won the admiration of many and the demand for the bulbs increased till finally it came in from all parts of China, and the wealth of the owner of the little stream and marsh soon surpassed that of the avaricious elder brother. Then, through some pretence, the latter took possession of the little stream and marsh, expecting thus to grasp the revenue from the sale of the lilies. But, lo! when New Year came, they refused to bloom. Conscience-stricken by this apparent rebuke of the gods, the marsh and the stream were surrendered to their rightful owner, and then, strange to say, the lilies bloomed forth as before.

“Such is the legend; now for plain facts. At the close of the year the house is cleaned, and dressed on its posts and walls with new red paper containing good words from the sages. On the last day of the old year, every family worships the ancestral tablet, and the idols, with offerings of slain birds and other animals, with vegetable delicacies added. Eight kinds of meat are offered to the ancestral tablets, and only fish, pork and chicken to the idols. Fruit, and a pudding cooked in boiling lard are also used as offerings. These furnish the feasts for the following day; for the spirits only inhale the perfume, leaving the substance for base mortals.

“On the last day of the old year, the married daughters must be at their husbands’ homes, and must not revisit the paternal roof till the New Year’s festival is over. The devotee rising very early on New Year’s morning, worships, first of all, the ancestors, burning incense, and red paper representing money, before the tablet, on each side of which candles have been lighted, and before which the offerings have been placed. Then the idols of the household are worshipped, and, next, those of the temple. Fire-crackers are snapped by the priests in the temple, and by all the people at their homes and their places of business. If any one has married, or is successful in gambling or in business, he expresses his gratitude by these explosives. Breakfast comes next, composed of vegetables only, for no blood must be shed or be used on New Year’s Day. Liquor distilled from rice is sipped from tiny cups. Now, calling and the exchange of cards follow. Only good words are to be spoken. It is a violation of etiquette, established by the custom of ages, to speak evil of, or to, any one during the first ten days of the New Year.”

Such of these usages as are purely social are retained by our Christian Chinese: The house-cleaning which brings to our several mission houses a thorough renovation; the trimming upon the walls and elsewhere with evergreen wreaths, with bouquets of artificial flowers and other samples of Chinese art; the cultivation of the fragrant Narcissus, and the interchange of calls and cards and mutual good wishes; the treating with candies, fruits, and tiny cups of tea——guiltless of the American concomitants of sugar and cream——all these you will find our Christian Chinese carrying forward with no less zest than their heathen countrymen. In these cases, this year, they invited the teacher with the whole family to which she belonged, to a banquet after the Chinese style; and in _all_ cases the teachers seem to have been remembered with gifts selected often with exquisite taste and purchased at a considerable cost.

But with our Christian Chinese these days are holy days rather than holidays. The week is a week of prayer. In all their sociality their religion is remembered and their Saviour is recognized. If on their special reception-day, a minister is among the first to call, he will be likely to be asked to open the day’s enjoyment with prayer. Every day there are special religious services; and connected with these, fresh resolves of consecration to Christ and fresh and earnest intercessions for each other and for their still benighted countrymen. One such meeting I attended by appointment at the home of our Oakland brethren. I remained with them an hour and a half. The school there had been in an unsatisfactory condition; running down in attendance and in spiritual power, while the schools in this city and at most other points were advancing in both respects. We looked the facts in the face; prayed over them; and then took counsel together. The result was a unanimous determination to take up missionary work among their countrymen with more earnestness and more system than ever before, and with God’s help to make their school as large and as efficient for good as possible.

Perhaps the account given by Mrs. Carrington, of the services at Sacramento, presents the week’s work as fairly as any. “A watch meeting closed the old year and opened the new. On Saturday evening there was a union meeting at the Presbyterian Mission House. On Wednesday evening a New Year’s banquet was given at our Mission House. Rev. Dr. Dwinell and Mrs. Dwinell, with the superintendent and teachers in the Chinese Sunday-school and other friends, were present. Other evenings were spent in less formal but more social worship, and on Saturday evening, February 25, a crowning union service was held at our Mission House. The room was filled to overflowing. Twenty or more of the American friends were present, and much interest was manifested. And so this New Year’s festival was closed.”

As between the hurried and meaningless New Year’s calls, with the accessories of unwholesome food in gluttonous quantities, washed down by poisonous wines and fiery liquors, which the old Knickerbocker custom has entailed upon Americans, and these festivities of our Christian Chinese, it does not take me long to judge which ought to be preferred.

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CHILDREN’S PAGE.

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THE GRASSHOPPER TEACHER.

_By M. K. Smith. Atlanta University, Ga._

A young lad who had found his way from the West coast of Africa to Atlanta University entered my class in entomology last October. Shortly after, when naming the teachers under whose instructions he came daily, he quaintly designated me as his “grasshopper teacher.”

In order to give some idea of the amount of enthusiasm the common grasshopper is capable of rousing in the mind of the average colored student, it may be interesting to give a brief explanation of the method of study pursued.

The pupils had no particular love for the troublesome insect; in fact, they had hitherto entertained for him a sentiment the reverse of friendly, and when I gave each student a pin upon which a grasshopper (it had been killed by immersion in alcohol) was transfixed, a dissatisfied giggle or a contemptuous sniff from each gave evidence that the little world of the class-room was decidedly out of sympathy with the existing state of affairs.

The African boy refused to touch a “specimen,” and regarded me with an expression in which surprise, fear and defiance were blended. The fear was doubtless the result of experience with poisonous insects in his fatherland, while the surprise was that a grasshopper should usurp the place of a book, for which the savage has all the superstitious reverence which characterizes the civilized student, and the defiance probably arose from a resolution that no earthly power should induce him to touch the strange animal. I did not urge him, but quickly called attention to the insect in hand. Without much difficulty they found the principal parts, to which I gave the names, head, thorax and abdomen. By the time these words were written on the board the class was pacified, for the colored student loves new words whose significations are beyond his comprehension just as well as his white brother. When the shape of the head was considered the students realized for the first time the lack of words which is so general among these people. “It’s like a horse’s head,” broke forth a boy, impetuously, while a hum of approval ran along the forms. I accepted the resemblance, and asked them to observe other things in connection with the head, and very soon the eyes were mentioned. I drew on the board a diagram of hexagonal cells, closely connected, and explained that the compound eye of the grasshopper is composed of _facets_ of similar form and each having power of sight.

“Why, he is better off than we are,” exclaimed a wondering youth. “We have only two eyes apiece, while he has thousands of ’em. What’s that for?”

“God made him that way,” returned another, as he handled his “specimen” a little more gently, while the African boy leaned over to get a good look at those queer eyes that were even nicer than his own.

I then called attention to the position of the eyes on the head and secured the statement that by their being placed just as they are the insect can see before, behind and on both sides at the same time. In a moment more than a dozen hands were waving wildly in the air, while two excited youths came to their feet as suddenly as if they had been moved after the manner of a “Jack in the box.” “I know, I know,” shouted one, “they are there so that he can see danger all round him. Many a time I’ve tried to catch him, and I would steal up behind him and ease my hand up soft, soft (the boy illustrated the action) and then just when I thought I had him, he was off!” and the lad’s hands were outspread to imitate the sudden movement of the insect.