A Night On The Bilter Lake

Fiom the St. James llaguzine. " And they say it don't rain in Egypt," growls our skipper. wiping the last chops of the departing s-quall trom his bushy beard and bluff English face. " Ltt 'em just como here and try ; thdt's all !" ' ïhis is our sixth hard squall since we got into thu canal," rtuj ked I ; " pretty wrll tur one moining's wurk! No getting to Suez to-night, eh r" 11 Wed ha' done it right enough if they'd let us go full speid, hut half speed s the rule here. We'll be gftting nitu the Bil ter Lake 'bout suudowu, and then I'll anchor íor the nigbt und go on to üut-z to-moriow." We are by this timo about midway through the taiuous canal, and have had time to get used to a panorama which is utterly new to us both, Our first fueling (as is the case, 1 should judge, with evcrv oiiti who ha seen it,) isone of disappointinent ; tb., great achievemeut as it undoubtcdly is, it issodwarfedandshadowed (like the Don and Volga railway or the " Nicholas column " at Ibraila) by the iiniitless desolate desolation which surrouoded it, that the statistics of its expenses and labor appear actually fabuleus Nor bas it even the element ot beaat y to recommond it. Twu interminable ranges of yellow sand growing gradually highiT as we go southward ; a huge dredger, every now and then, lying like a castle upon the water, with its eiaiROicus freight of blue-shirtcd, workmen and red-capped boys rush to btare at us us we pass; a tew little stations consisting prinuipally of one hut a piece, and with a populatiou ot' two men and a dug ; an occasional passenger steamer trom Ismalia, so diminuative Ihat you alinost expeot to see " Compiete at lOs 6d " labeled upon its bulwarks - such are the leading charactmistics of the famous international thoroughfare. But as we gradually realize the utter barrenness of j the entire country, void alike of food and of shelter, the treacherous nature of the soil, the merciless heat, which piesses sorely upon us even in April, we begin to admire, in our own despite, this little ribbon of light green water drawn ath wart the dull, brassy yellow of the everlasting desert, and to appreciate the task which, began by an Egyptian king nearly thirty Centurios ago, has reoeived its completion in our own day from thehaud of a French Engineer. " Here comes another one of them 'p-ffin' Billies'" remarked the skippor, with grand contempt, as a little toy r skiins past us, with accommodations or one passenger, provided he were a liin one. ' TLey'er al'ays atryin' to haggravate us by passin' us that wny; but if vo could only put on steara we'd show hem fun. Only this mornin' when you jvas below, waitin', one on 'em come by nd the skipper hollers out to me , ' Shall throw out a rope and tow you V' and ays I to him, says I ; ' No, thankee, it's nly blind men as is towed by dogs." And with an approving chuckle at his wn sledge-hammer wit, the worthyskipjer walked aft. The black rain-cloud has vanished as uddenly as it came, and the sun looks own upon us once more in all its merciess splendor, frotn the bright, cruel, loudless sky. There is a hot dreamy anguor iu the air, and a silence as of uter exhaustion. The long, hazy, ripple n our wake dies without a sound upou he thiek, lifeless sand ; the very shadow of our stenmer seems to drag aftor us lik e a spent runner. Two black skeletons uddenly appear on the right bank, movng slowly ulong the watnr's ed;e, with heit long, noiseless stridé, and the sieht oí a living being in this great sepnlcher ƒ nature startle us like an apparation. ?hen comes a momentary glimpse of the world of lile and action, as we swing round a projecting corner into the grcat oasin, along which rise the towers and minareis oí Ismalia, " the city of Lsmalia ?asha." The pilot boat flits alongside likea firely, whisks away our Port Said pilot, nnd -aplaces him with a lithe, swarthy, keeneyed hall-cast e, and then ihe desert enrulfs us once more as we head southward, on toward the Bitter Lake. Mid-day changes to afternoon, afternoon wanes into eveiiing, and at length thcre rises before us a boundless waste of Biifoutb water, all aflame with the splendor of the sunset ; tho farfamed Bitter Lake, which is, pevhaps the oue spot of the canal that, in the age oi railways and telegraphs, weara the living im ress of a time when the Pharoahs stil led reigned in Memphis, and when the white-robed priests of Isles watchec the stars from the summit of the Grea' Pyramid. Smooth, tideless, lifeless, i stretched from sky to sky, in all its weirt and desolate beauty ; and far to the west wave after wave of purple hills surge up against the burning sky ; while to the east, as far as the eye eau reach, extend - dim, and vast, and unknown - th( mighty desoent, beyond which lie Mccca. and Jerusalem. As we sweep into the lako the sun "goesout" (no other words will expres it), and, in a moment, earth and sea anc sky are one great shadow. In the gath ering darkneBS and overwhelming silene the oaptain's hoarse calis sounds inde scribably strange and uncarthly. " Stand by your anchor." ' Ay, ay, sir !" " Let go i" The rattle of tbc chiiin, and the splash of tb falling anchor, break through the stillness íor a moment with uimatural l'onliiess, and then the silence returns likt; a wave. The isolation is now complete. I have seen the frozeu Neva at undnight, anrl theDead Sua in tha gray ot the early morniug ; but a gliQStlier sight than the Bitter L;iki in the dim interval between sunset and uioourise, I have never yet seon. However, the ghostly dimnuss does not endure long. Suddtjn as a flash of lightning there falls aciuss tho shadowy waste of water a broad silver sheen, and up rises the uioon in all its splendur (such a inooii one sees only in tropical sities), glorifying the whole panorama at one stroko Behind us, tall and wlute and spectral rises the light house that guards tho entrance with its solitary eycs oí' fire. To right and luit, as far as the eyo can reaob, the huge, cross-barrud, signal posts that mark the chatxnel, loom out like a phantom of' gentiles. In tho background theourving huls stuud out black as nigbt against the uuoarthly splendor, w'iiie tho tuint ripples made by the night breeze upon the bow in rings oí liying fíre, ílashing, quivering, aud burstiug inccssantly. And duw the sense ot' utter loneliness and aeparation becomes overwhelining. Land locUcd, as we are, it is asthough we were becalined in niid ocean, far away froin sight or sound ot human lite, a teeling intense enough to overpower even a sense of oonipanionship. With five and thirty men close besido nip, I am as utterly alone as it' I were upon a desart island. And so the uight wears on, the weird impreissiveness of the wonderful panorama becoming more intense with every hour that past.es, till at length, when I fall asleep under the ice the quarterboat, with iny head pillowed on a spare sail, and a fold of the canvas pulled ovor my face as a shield against the moon, my dreanis are haunted by a confused phantasmagona of üguies f'rom the reinóte ages; Dlack-browed Sesostris driving his team of uhaincd monarchs along the shoutmg banks of' the Nile; and towering Nitius hounding on his endless files of Aseyrian spearmen to sack the temple of Memphis; and Moses, with the light of a soitum tiiumph in his deep, earnest eyes, leading foith a (tea nation over the corpses of ihe Egyptian first-born ; and Peisian Cambyses, " Master of all who live," tnar.shiiling his best and bravest to a death of lingering agony in the depths of the greut desert. Froin these historical nightmares I ani aroused by a hearty 6lap on the shoulders, and a jolly Eaglish lüugh close to my ear. "Liiioky you aiu't tho hofficer of the watüh, sir; you sleep as sound asa peeier ondooty! Come, tumble up, and take your six buokets; the steward's pretty nigh laid breakfast alveady." Laid it is, tura onough, with the traditional beefsteftk smoking in the iniddle. ïhe suniise is just lighting up thepurple hill tope the etoaiu is on tor our final run toiSuez; the nineteenth ceutury asserts itself once more ; the visionary romanee is gone.