THROUGH THE SUEZ CANAL.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2525, 15 September 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)

THROUGH THE SUEZ CANAL.

[Bv ''The Vagabond."]

On- tho 10th oF Mai-fh, ISGO, the waters of the Meditirrar.ean ininirled with those of the lied Sea in the Suez Canal. Scientists tell us that at one time a niitrnw strait existed hern instead of an isthmus. This became gradually choked up by sand until tin: uoiineetin'i between the seas was cut off, the salt "Bitter Lakes " and fossil shells in tho desert remaining iu evidence of the ancient cnurse of the waters. This may or may not be true. In s-ience, ns in theoloay, one has to take a good deal on faith—the evidence of things not seen. In scientific investigation, however, it does not. much matter if tho shadow is sometimes mistaken for the substance. It is much the same in the history of remote ages, except when that history is attempted to be imposed upon us as authority for our temporal acts and spiritual welfare. It is in a poetic ttato of mind that one should look at the mummy of Scti the First in the museum at Cairo. It is much the fame as any other mummy ; not more interesting than that which Mr L. P. Sachs discovered some 14 years ago in exploring the still unknown country behind Trinity Bay, in Northern Queensland. But Seti the First, in his swathed and bandaged state, becomes interesting when wo learn that. 3,300 years ago he was the Pharoah whoso daughter discovered Moses in the bulrushes and who brought up the Hebrew foundling with the young Egyptian nobles, including, perchance, her brother Ramses the- Great, the Sesostris of the Greeks, and the Phaioah who opposed the Israelites. Early trainins; mid study of the Old Testament caused mo to entertain evil thoughts against Ramses the Second, whose mummy I saw a few years ago lying beside his father's. But profane history has since taught me that this Pharoah was a monarch to be appreciated. He was a father of arts and siience. He endowed libraries and loved poets, the journalists of the period. He made the Jews work in spite of the protests of his old school chum, Moses. For that he may well bo called " great," as no one has since then succeeded in getting any work out of tho children of I-,rael.

bandaged state, becomes interesting when wo learn that 3,300 years iijro he was the Pharoah whoso daughter discovered Moses in the bulrushes and who brought up the Hebrew foundling with the young Egyptian nobles, including, perchance, her brother Ramses the- Great, the Sesnstris of the Greeks, and the Phiiro.ih who opposed the Israelites. Early training find study of the Old Testament caused mo to entertain evil thoughts against Ramses the Second, whose mummy I saw a few years ago lying beside his father's. But profane history has since taught me that this Pharoah was a monarch to be appreciated. He was a father of arts and siience. He endowed libraries and loved poets, the journalists of the period. He made the Jews work in spite of the protests of his old school chnm, Moses. For that he may well bo called " great," as no oue has since then succeeded in getting any work out of the children of I-,rael. Seti, according to historians, was the first to make a canal across the Isthmus of Suez. It was completed by his enlightened son. As we steam up the Gulf of Suez, and survey the outlines of the Sinaitic range on the right, I entered into conversation with a young Australian on board the Cnzco, concerning the ancient religions of the East. I also told him of the early canal makers ; of new channels constructed by other Pharoahs after that of Ramses the Great had been choked up by the sand, and of nnother canal made by Darins the Conqueror and of the probability that Cleopatra sailed her barge* along this channel ; of the Romans and the Arabs who used a Suez canal until, a thousand years ago, it heo.irae unserviceable, and so in time was choked up by the h:>t snnd of the de-ort, and until less than 20 years ago the Isthmus of Suez had to be crossed first by Nile boats to Cairo and thence by donkey or camel caravans until the making of the railway. I do not think we in Australia sufficiently recognise what an important factor the Suez Canal now is in the commerce of the world. Although it is only two years ago since I last made a flight through Egypt I had absolutely no idea of the importance of the Canal until now, when I pass through it in the Cuzco. And yet I have boasted of my knowledge of Egypt and things Egyptian ! Wo learn every day how little we really know ! It is certain that I shall not increase my acquaintance with Suez on this voyage, as it is nightfall before we cast anchor in the harbour off Port Ibrahim. A year or two ago Australian passengers would have had a chance of landing and seeing one of the meanest and wickedest towns on the face of the earth. Then it took from 2-i to 48 hours to get through the canal. Now it is done in 16 or 17 hours, a powerful electric light being shipped in front of the bows, by the aid of which vessels steam through at night at the rate of 5 knots an hour. But if the passengers, who have never been able to get ashore since we left Melbourne, grumble that they cannot set foot on the land of Egypt, they have at least an experience of the Egyptians. As soon as the doctor has been on board, and whilst we wait for the pilot, the deck is crowded with vendors of cigarettes "Turkish delight," walking sticks, photographs and fruits. That men can smoke cigarettes handled and made by dirty scrofulous ophthalmic miserab/et! always surprises me. That ladies can eat the sticky sweetmeat bought from these dirty itinerant traders passes comprehension. I feel assured that cancer amongst smokers is often the result of using Egyptian cigarettes so vilely prepared. Ladies who suck Turkish delight must also run a risk of contagion. This is a warning to the foolish, to which I hope they will take heed. But the conjurer who takes possession of the smoke room and turns eggs into chickens and apples into snakes does the best business. He is a real descendant of Pharoah's magicians. Literally speaking, he has only one snake, a harmless reptile about two feet long, which he rolls up into a ball and palms into the hand of the naval lieutenant, who shrieks with disgust as he drops it. Then the reptile is placed on the table, and coils itself up and goes to sleep until it is wanted for another act. The magician on board the Cuzco docs some very clever tricks, many perhaps not quite new, but all performed without bungling. He humorously pretends to call tin the supernatural, appealing tea "debbil, debbil," from whom he requests aid. " Sallagalla" is another adjuration, which soon runs round the ship. But after a time one of our English quartermasters gives the order, " Now. you niggers, clear out." "Yes, Sahib," is the meek reply, as they are kicked aud bundled down the ladder. Jack's idea is that the application of the British boot is the best hint to a " nigger." But they swarm up the other side of the steamer, endeavouring to sell their wares, or beg or steal something. Then they are kicked off again and tlescentl hanging on to ropes or the long masts of their boats, and at last sail away for shore with a good iviturcil chorus of "Good night, sahibs!" Be sine they have all done well aud they do not mind the kicks. The Israelites once, according to Exodus, spoiled the Egyptians of old. I am a firm believer in this statement. They are the people who would do it. But the Egyptians of the present day spoil the travellers through the land. How Ions; the pilot is in corning off ! As they will not let us go ashore we want to be moving through the canal. It is four hours before we start. We steam past a red light on our right, the channel being marked by piles much as at the mouth of the Yarra or in Moreton B iy, at the entrance of the Brisbane 'iiver. Then there is. a green light on the left at the end of the Wiighorn Quay, named in honor of Lieutenant Waghorn, of the Royal Navy, who spent the best years of his life in establishing the overland route to India and Australia, and in advocating the construction of the Suez Cmal. The lights of Suez fade in the distance, and we eater the canal proper just north of the spot where Msses and the Israelites crossed the heid of the Gulf of Suez at low tide, as was often done since by caravans before the construction of the canal. As we stc-im between the banks of desert sand one's thoughts aro carried far away liom the prosaic modern life of which ship and pa-songers are the outcome tothodnwn of history and religion, of which in Egypt we have tho sole memoiials. The sand of the desert which destroyed, yet preserved. Hermetically .sealed " records hewn in stone, hurut in cbiT, o; , written on leather or scrolls of papyrus, have survived the ravages of thousands of years," covered as they weie by the h t sand. And the dry air cf Egypt bus likewi:© preserved many lives which, in England would have been sacrifii'C'l early to the demon of consumption. There is nothing more charming than |

night in the Egyptian or great Arabian de-orts through which the caual run". The sky above reminds one of Holman Hunt's paintiiisr, which α-hmislied us in U>o (lro.sv.-r.or G.-dWy last year, the only natural thing on the canvas. But the electric light .shining on the waters ahead and the continued rins of tbo signal bell from the bridge to the engineroom bring one'.- thoughts in time back t" the present, and the necessity of s;oing to bed.

Early morning sees us in the Bitter Lakes. The sun rises in golden grandeur, and jrlorifies the sand hills of the desert, iiml the gloomy mountains of At.ii!(ii looming beyond Suez. The niirht stars shone on it cold dead world filled with haunting memories of the past. The day brings life as well as light—evidences of present eivilisation and present progress. Steamers outward bonnd to Australia, India nnd China pass us. These are "Ditchers" coal laden, slab sided, unscaworthy, which, in proportion to th' ir tonnage, will carry a great cargo. Their " PliiMsoll line " is all right, they float so many inches above water, so many feet below. But the absurdity of this not (great good though it, may have done) is here evidence. These coffin ships will be flooded with water where one of the model Cuzco would not wet her decks. A safe load line for one ship would be totally unsafe for another. Here are Italian and Austrian steamers and an Egyptian transport crowded with soldiers. On the left bank of the lake one sees the railway to Isiuailia and the fringe of vegetation along , the " Freshwater Canal," which brings water from the Nile to Suez. Lighthouses in the Lobe, semaphores on the railway line, knock ideas of the past out of one's mind, which do not again intrude themselves when we enter the deep cutting which leads to Lake Timsah, or the Crocodile Lake. We do not see any saurians, but we are preyed upon by little Arab children, who run along the banks and cry bnehihcenh as if their hearts would break. Half the laud of Egypt appears to subsist in bogs 10 !? from the passing tourist. We anchor in the centre of Lake Tirasah, or Ismailia, but cannot go ashore. There is wrath again among the Australians that they cannot taste of the fleshpots of Egypt.. Haste! oh captain, on to Port Said, where we at least can land for an hour or two whilst the Cuzco's coal bunkers are filled. Haste ! That our lady passengers may tread the earth by dnyliirht, and without fear of the iniquities of the nisrht.

The Sabbath is not known in the Suez Canal. On other First Days the captain officiates at service in the saloon or on the quarter deck, reading the Liturgy in a manner which many young curates might imitate with profit to their hearers. Cards are discontinued, and Sunday is generally duller than any other day. But as wo approach the Mediterranean all this is altered. The captain in busy on the bridge, and the passengers appear to have forgotten the day of the week. Tho saloon, erstwhile a house of prayer, is now a busy mart. The true blue Presbyterians are as eager in traffic as any unbeliever. Two Greek Jews, or Jew Greeks, boarded the Cuzco at Suez, with boxes full of treasures in lace and silk, aud jewellery of cunning workmanship, if not of much intrinsic value. These merchants belong to Port Said, and come down the canal in one Orient eteamer, returning in the next homeward bound vosscl. It is from Australians that thoy get their greatest gains. All this Sunday they are displaying their wares to admiring womankind, who buy freely. The monopoly these men enjoy is a valuable one, and I am surprised to hear they pay nothing for it, except tho cost of their second-class passages. This only shows how very good-natured the officers of this ship and others of the Orient line must be. But this bartering has very little attraction for the male passengers except those married ones who endeavour to control the expenditure of their wives—generally without avail. Whilst the ladies are wasting their time in bargaining, we on deck watch the life on the canal and it? bank. English steamers we meet all day long, passing them almost without recognition, except in the cursing of the sailors at tho extra work in having to " tie up " whilst another boat goes by. Where the canal has not yet been widenedit is worked on the block system. Signal stations occur at frequent intervals, and between these the telegraph flashes the news of approaching vessels, and then one of them has to tie up at a crossing place. I do not know on what rule this is worked. Generilly we are lucky in that we find the other boats hauled up to the bank waiting for us to pass. Looking at the present enormous amount of traffic in the Suez Canal, the administration, although it is in French hands, appears to be highly efficient. But what do we care for British ships, or for ships of other European nationalities, when we are in the wonderful land of Egypt. The Suez Canal is all that many Australians know of Egypt. They must make the most of their experiences. We rejoice at meeting so many dahabeths — long flat-bottomed craft, with raking spars, which taper away to the skies. These on a fair wind sail down the canal faster than we are allowed to steam. Whether they pay for tho privilege of sailing along the big ditch made by the Infidels is a moot question. But it is interesting to people who will never have a chance to see the Nile to view these Nile craft, which from the Mediterranean to Nubia are the same in form and construction, the same in shape, aa when the pyramids were built ; and where the canal is being widened it is a source of joy to young Australians to see tho Arab "navvies" loading the camels or patient donkeys. This prosaic work becomes poetic under such circumstances. Tho taskmasters nowadays are as hard as those of Pharoah. Patient indeed are the weary fellaheen, toiling wearily to furnish their quota of taxation to swell the revenue and support the rulers of the land, the Ismals and Tewfixs, in famous luxury. They live on dates and water, and sleep in low mud huts. If they have any happiness it is in the thought of the paradise to come. If they are not moral it can scarcely be expected of them. But this may be said, that they are infinitely superior to the so-called Christians of Egypt, the Greeks and Levantines and other scourings of the Mediterranean, who make hells of certain quarters of Alexandria, Port Said and Suez. If in the revolt of Arabi Pasha these Christians (?) had been driven into the sea humanity would have been a gainer. We talk of these things as we steam through hieh cuttings to the shadows of the Balah Habes, the third inland water we cross. Then again through a short stretch of canal by El-Kanlara, or "the bridge," the high land here having formed a natural bridge between Africa and Asia. This was, and is, the caravan route to Syria. The Holy Child and the Virgin Mother and the paternal stepfather no doubt came this way in the Flight from Bethlehem. One thinks again of Melbourne and the "Triumph of the Innocents;" and you feel rather disgusted that the Kantara of the present principally consists of French cafiSs, with prasaic inscription of " Buffet ' and "Billiards." Camel caravans now cross at El Kaiitara by a steam ferry. Shortly afterwards the canal strikes through the marshes of Lake Meuznlah, which cover 10C0 square miles of what was once the most fertile district of Egypt. We sec fleets of fishing dababcahs, great flights of wildfowl, and strange mirages, and then the masts of Port Said come in sight, and towering above them tho lighthouse, one of the highest in the world. We have reached the Mediterranean at last. Thi/assa! —Abridged from the Melbourne Leader.