we have something to
learn from this people, who are at all events not ashamed of their
religion.

A man is selling oranges on the quay, another has large round flat
loaves of bread tucked well under his arms and hugged against his body.
A black hand, extended from the lowest deck beneath us, grasps one of
these loaves and begins to finger it with a view to purchase; we cannot
see the owner of the hand, but we can see his fingers feeling cautiously
all around that loaf; he nips it between finger and thumb, he prods it,
kneads it, rubs it, and finally, when no inch of it has been untouched,
he hands over reluctantly a small coin and withdraws with the bread.

"Hope that isn't for us," says the cheerful voice of a young officer
leaning over the rail beside us in the dark. "Think I'll cut off my
crust at dinner to-night on the off-chance, anyway!"

[Illustration: AN EGYPTIAN SOLDIER.]

CHAPTER IX

A MILLION SUNRISES

It is very cold and quite dark when I wake. The steamer is anchored
close up to the bank and not a sound comes from the still water. My
blankets are very comfortable; it can't be time to turn out yet. It is
an effort even to stretch out a hand and strike a light to see my
watch--5.15! Yes, we ought to go!

You take some waking, and only my threat of, "You'll never get another
chance in your life," brings you out of your bunk at last.

If you've ever done anything nastier than trying to dress against time,
two together in a small cabin on a cold morning in the pitch dark, I'd
like to know it. The electric light is off, because the engines are not
running, and there are no candles. By the time we've got into some sort
of clothing we're both at snarling-point. Twice I've violently tried to
put on your boots, thinking they were mine, and I know you've got my
shirt on, because I couldn't find it and had to drag out a clean one!

A walk along the cold dark deck and across a slippery plank to the mud
bank does not improve matters. Apparently we have this exhilarating
entertainment all to ourselves, for the rest of the fifteen passengers
have not appeared.

The sand is like the softest silk, and it seems sometimes as if we must
be walking backwards so little headway do we make. If it wasn't for this
icy wind I should think I was still dreaming. All the time that red bar
in the east glows steadily brighter, and warns us that if we want to see
one of the grandest sights in the world--Abu Simbel by su