to my hair, and I have a great dislike of bats. At last, after some
minutes of jerking and dangling, I found myself standing in a
narrow passage by the side of the worthy Ali, covered with bats and
perspiration, and with the skin rubbed off my knees and knuckles. Then
another man came down, hand over hand like a sailor, and as the rest
were told to stop above we were ready to go on. Ali went first with
his candle--of course we each had a candle--leading the way down a long
passage about five feet high. At length the passage widened out, and we
were in the tomb-chamber: I think the hottest and most silent place that
I ever entered. It was simply stifling. This chamber is a square room
cut in the rock and totally devoid of paintings or sculpture. I held
up the candles and looked round. About the place were strewn the coffin
lids and the mummied remains of the two bodies that the Arabs had
previously violated. The paintings on the former were, I noticed, of
great beauty, though, having no knowledge of hieroglyphics, I could not
decipher them. Beads and spicy wrappings lay around the remains, which,
I saw, were those of a man and a woman.[+] The head had been broken off
the body of the man. I took it up and looked at it. It had been closely
shaved--after death, I should say, from the general indications--and the
features were disfigured with gold leaf. But notwithstanding this,
and the shrinkage of the flesh, I think the face was one of the most
imposing and beautiful that I ever saw. It was that of a very old man,
and his dead countenance still wore so calm and solemn, indeed, so awful
a look, that I grew quite superstitious (though as you know, I am pretty
well accustomed to dead people), and put the head down in a hurry. There
were still some wrappings left upon the face of the second body, and I
did not remove them; but she must have been a fine large woman in her
day.

[*] This, I take it, is a portrait of Amenemhat himself.--