Page:H. D. Traill - From Cairo to the Soudan Frontier.djvu/175

Rh industry which fears the frown of no Patriarch, and which so long as European tourists throng to the Upper Nile and human nature remains unaltered, may be regarded as pretty certain to endure. Yet its existence, were it not for the marplot guide-books which discount half the delightful surprises of a new country—as dramatic critics do of a new play—might well be unsuspected until it confronts you in full activity.

You have taken, let us say, the first and favourite expedition from Assuan. That is to say, you have ridden over the flat strip of desert that divides you from Philæ to that most beautiful of islands; you have duly admired the gem-like little ruin that crowns its precipitous sides; you have thoroughly explored the Temple of Isis; too probably, you have desecrated that beautiful kiosque by lunching on "Pharaoh's bed"; and then, having started for that row home through the smaller rapids, which is somewhat grandiloquently described as "shooting the cataract,"