But whither wander we? Standing in this hotel of modern Boston, we
must confine our inquiries to a far later epoch than the Pharaohs'.
Step aside, and let the old history sweep past, like the turbid and
eddying current of the mysterious Nile; forbearing to launch our skiff
earlier than at the beginning of the present century.

The middle of June, eighteen hundred and sixteen: the river is just
beginning to rise, and the thirsty land spreads wide her lap to
receive him. Some miles to the north slumbers Cairo in white heat, its
outline jagged with minarets and bulbous domes. Southward, the shaded
Pyramids print their everlasting outlines against the tremulous
distance; old as they are, it seems as though a puff of the Khamsin
might dissolve them away. Near at hand is a noisy, naked crowd of men
and boys, plunging and swimming in the water, or sitting and standing
along the bank. They are watching and discussing the slow approach up
stream of a large boat with a broad lateen-sail, and a strange flag
fluttering from the mast-head. Rumor says that this boat contains a
company of strangers from beyond the sea; men who do not wear turbans,
whose dress is close-fitting, and covers them from head to
foot,--even the legs. They come to learn wisdom and civilization from
the Pyramids, and among the ruins of Memphis.

A hundred yards below this shouting, curious crowd, stands, waist-deep
in the Nile, a slender-limbed boy, about ten years old. He belongs to
a superior caste, and holds himself above the common rabble. Being
perfectly naked, a careless eye might, however, rank him with the
rest, were it not for the talisman which he wears suspended to a fine
gold chain round his neck; a curiously designed diamond ring, the
inheritance of a long line of priestly ancestors. The boy's face is
certainly full of intelligence, and the features are finely moulded