"This  is kiphi, it's the finest ointment, and the secret is known only
to  our  priesthood. My mother brought it here by paying  a big bribe  to  a
soldier."
     "You're  a  good  fellow. Excuse  me  if  I  thought you  were  trash!"
exclaimed the Negro.
     The Egyptian  muttered  something  between  his  teeth and  disappeared
silently into the darkness.
     -From that day onwards the Egyptian made friends with the young Hellene
although he still  ignored his  companions. After that Pandion often heard a
rustling sound near his cell and if he was alone the lean, bony body  of the
Egyptian would come crawling in.  The lonely, embittered son of Tha-Quem was
outspoken and talkative when he was alone with  the sympathetic Pandion, who
soon learned the Egyptian's story.
     Yakhmos,  the son of the  moon,  came from an  old family  of  nedshes,
faithful  servants of former Pharaohs who had lost their  position and their
wealth with a change of dynasty.  Yakhmos had  had a good schooling  and had
been  employed  as scribe by the  Governor of the Province  of the  Hare. He
chanced to fall in love with the daughter of a builder who demanded that his
son-in-law be a  man of means. Yakhmos lost  his head for love  of the girl,
determined  to  get the money, come  what  may, and turned to robbery of the
royal  tombs  as  a  means  to  speedy  enrichment.  His  knowledge  of  the
hieroglyphs was  a great advantage to him  in  the commission  of a horrible
crime that was always cruelly punished. Yakhmos soon had large quantities of
gold in his hands but in the meantime the girl had been given in marriage to
an official in the far south.
     Yakhmos  tried to drown  his sorrows in merry feasting and the purchase
of concubines, and  the money soon melted away. The  dark road to wealth was
already  known  to  him  and he  again set out  to do nefarious  deeds,  was
eventually caught,  and brutally tortured  and his  companions  were  either
executed or  died under torture. Yakhmos was sentenced to exile in  the gold
mines. Every year a new party was sent there  at the time of the floods  and
to await  his dispatch Yakhmos  was put  into a  shehne  since  there was  a
shortage of labour for the building of the new wall of the Temple of Ptah.
     As  Pandion listened with  interest to Yakhmos' story he was amazed  at
the valour of a man who in appearance was far from brave.
     Yakhmos told  of his adventures  in the fearful underground labyrinths,
where death awaited the intruder at every step from traps cunningly designed
by the builders.
     In the oldest tombs that lay deep below the huge pyramids the treasures
and  the royal sarcophagi were protected by huge, thick slabs of  stone that
closed the gangways. The later tombs  were in a labyrinth of false corridors
that ended in deep  wells  with smooth walls. Huge blocks of stone fell from
above when the intruders tried to  move the stones that protected the tombs,
heaps  of sand  shot  down  through wells  from above  and barred their  way
forward. If the bold  intruders tried to pass the sand and penetrated deeper
into the tombs, more earth showered down on them from the  wells and  buried
the robbers in a narrow passage between the  sand-heaps and the newly fallen
earth. In  the newer tombs  stone jaws closed noiselessly in the darkness of
the  narrow tunnels or a  frame  studded with sharp spears crashed down from
the columns immediately the intruder set his foot  on  a certain fatal stone
in the  floor.  Yakhmos  knew  the  many  horrors  that had lain  buried for
thousands  of  years,  awaiting  in  silence  their  victim. He  gained  his
experience at the expense of many others who had perished in the performance
of their horrible profession. On many occasions the Egyptian had come across
the decaying remains of unknown  people who had perished in the traps in the
distant past.
     Yakhmos and his companions had spent many nights  on the  verge of  the
Western  Desert where  the Cities  of the Dead  stretched  for thousands  of
cubits. Hiding in the darkness,  not  daring to  speak or  strike  a  light,
feeling their way to the howl of the jackals, the laughing of the hyenas and
the menacing  roar  of  the  lions,  the plunderers  dug  their way  through
stifling passages or  cut through whole  cliffs in  an  effort  to  find the
direction in which the deeply hidden tomb lay.
     This was a horrible  profession,  fully worthy of a  people who thought
more of death  than of  life,  who  strove to preserve  for all eternity the
glory of the dead rather than living deeds.
     Pandion listened in amazement and horror to the tales of adventure told
by  this thin, insignificant man who  had so  often risked his  life for the
sake of a few moments' pleasure, and could not understand him.
     "Why did you  continue living like that?" Pandion asked  him one night.
"Why couldn't you go  away?" The Egyptian smiled a silent,  mirthless smile.
"The Land of  Quemt is a  strange  land. You, a foreigner, cannot understand
her. We are all imprisoned here,  not  merely the slaves, but also the  free
sons  of  the  Black Land. Long, long ago, the  deserts protected  us. Today
Tha-Quem is squeezed in between the deserts-it is a big prison for all those
who are unable to make long journeys with a strong band of warriors.
     'In the west is the desert-the kingdom of death. The desert in the east
is passable only to large caravans with a good supply of water. In the south
there are savage tribes hostile to us. All  our neighbours  burn with hatred
against our country whose well-being is founded on the misfortunes of weaker
peoples.
     "You're not a son  of  Tha-Quem and can't understand how we fear to die
in a strange land.  In this valley of the Hapi, everywhere alike, where  our
ancestors have lived for thousands of years  and tilled the soil, dug canals
and made fertile the land,  we, too, must live and die. Tha-Quem is shut off
from the world  and that lies  like a curse upon us. When there are too many
people  their lives are of no  value-and there is nowhere  for us to migrate
to, the people  chosen by the gods are not loved by  the  peoples of foreign
lands. . . ."
     "But would it not be better for you  to flee now  that you're a slave?"
asked Pandion.
     "Alone and  branded?" came the Egyptian's ejaculation  of astonishment.
"I'm now  worse than  a  foreigner. . .  .  Remember,  Ekwesha,  there's  no
escaping  from here! The  only hope is to turn  the whole  of the Black Land
upside down by force.  But who can do that? It's true  there have  been such
things in the days of long ago. . . ." Yakhmos sighed regretfully.
     These last words aroused Pandion's curiosity and he  began to  question
Yakhmos; he learned about the great slave rebellions  that  had from time to
time shaken  the whole  country. He learned  also  that the  slaves had been
joined by the poorer sections of the population whose lives differed  little
from those of the slaves.
     He  learned,  too, that the  common people  were forbidden  to have any
contact  with the slaves since  "a poor man could  infuriate  the mob in the
slave compound"- such were the Pharaohs' injunctions to their sons.
     The poorer  sons of Quemt, the  tillers of the  soil and the craftsmen,
lived  in  the  narrow  world  of  their  own   street.  They  made  as  few
acquaintances as possible, they humbled  themselves before the soldiers, the
"heralds" who brought them  the commands of the  officials. Pharaoh demanded
humility  and drudging toil and for the  slightest act  of  disobedience the
offender was mercilessly beaten. The huge body of officials was a tremendous
burden on  the  country, freedom to leave the  country  and  travel  was the
prerogative of the priests and nobility alone.
     At Pandion's request  Yakhmos  drew  a plan  of the Land of Quemt  in a
patch of moonlight on the floor. The young Hellene was horrified:  he was in
the  very middle of the  valley  of  a great river  thousands  of stadia  in
length. There were  water  and life to the north and  south but to get there
through a densely populated land with  countless military fortifications was
impossible. In the empty deserts on either  side there was no population nor
was there any means of subsistence.
     The few  caravan  roads  along  which  there  were  wells were strongly
guarded.
     After the Egyptian had left him, Pandion spent a sleepless night trying
to think out a plan of escape. Instinctively, the youth realized that  hopes
of a successful  escape  would grow weaker  as time went on and he grew more
and more exhausted from the unbearable  slave labour. Only people possessing
extraordinary strength and endurance  could expect fortune to  smile on them
if they attempted escape.
     The  next  night  Pandion  crawled to the cell of the Etruscan, Cavius,
told him all he had learned from  the  Egyptian and tried to persuade him to
make an attempt to arouse the slaves to rebellion. Cavius did not answer him
but  sat stroking his beard, deep in  thought.  Pandion was well aware  that
preparations  for  rebellion  had long been under way  and that the  various
tribal groups had chosen their leaders.
     "I can't stand it any  longer, why should  we  wait?" exclaimed Pandion
passionately; Cavius hurriedly put his hand over  his mouth. "Better death,"
added the Hellene, somewhat more calmly. "What is  there  to wait  for? What
will change? If  changes come in ten years time,  then we shan't  be able to
fight or flee. Are you afraid of death or what?"
     Cavius raised his hand.
     "I'm not afraid and you know  it," he said brusquely, "but we have five
hundred lives dependent on us. Do you  propose to sacrifice them? You'll get
your death at a high price."
     Pandion struck his  head against the  low ceiling as he sat up suddenly
in his impatience.
     "I'll think it  over and talk to people," Cavius hastened to  add, "but
still it's a pity there are only two other shehne near  us and that we  have
no access to  them.  We'll talk  tomorrow night and  I'll let you know. Tell
Kidogo to come. . . ."
     Pandion left Cavius'  cell, crawled hurriedly  along the wall so  as to
get  there before the  moon rose, and made  for Yakhmos' cell.  Yakhmos  was
still awake.
     "I went to see you," whispered the Egyptian in  excited tones, "but you
weren't there. I wanted to tell. . ." he stammered. "I've been told that I'm
being taken away from here tomorrow; they are sending  three  hundred men to
the gold mines in the desert. That's  how  matters stand -nobody ever  comes
back from there. . . ."
     "Why?" asked Pandion.
     "Slaves sent  to work  there  rarely  live  more  than a year.  There's
nothing worse than the  work down there  amidst the sun-baked rocks, with no
air to breathe. They give them very little water as there isn't enough to go
round.  The work consists of breaking  hard  stones and carrying the ore  in
baskets. The strongest of the slaves drop exhausted at  the end of the day's
work  and blood runs from  their ears and throats. .  . . Farewell, Ekwesha,
you're a  fine fellow although you did me a bad turn by saving my life. It's
not the rescue that I value but the sympathy you showed me. . . . Long, long
ago a  life of bitterness made one of our bards compose a song in praise  of
death. That song I repeat today.
     " 'Death lies before  me like  convalescence  before a  sick  man, like
relief from  sickness,' " intoned the Egyptian in a whisper, " 'like sailing
before the wind in fine weather, like the perfume of  the lotus, like a road
washed by the rain, like the return home after a campaign. . . .' " Yakhmos'
voice broke off in a groan.
     Overcome by pity, the young Hellene drew nearer to the Egyptian.
     "But you can take your own. . . ." Pandion stopped short.
     Yakhmos staggered  back  from him. "What are you saying,  foreigner. Do
you  imagine  I  can allow my Ka to torment my Ba for all eternity  in never
ending  sufferings?..."  ( Ka- the  soul of the intellect. Ba-the  corporeal
soul, the spirit of the body.)

     Pandion  understood  nothing  of  what  the  Egyptian  was  saying.  He
sincerely believed that suffering ends with death but did not say so  out of
tolerance for the faith of the Egyptian.
     Yakhmos pushed aside the  straw on which he  slept  at night and  began
digging in the corner of his cell.
     "Here, take this  dagger, if ever you dare ... and this will remind you
of me  if a  miracle happens  and you  gain your  liberty." Yakhmos placed a
smooth, cold object in Pandion's hand.
     "What's  that? What do I  want it for?" "It's a  stone I  found in  the
underground rooms of an old temple hidden amongst the rocks."
     Yakhmos, glad of an  opportunity to forget the present in reminiscences
of the  past,  told Pandion  of  a mysterious  old temple  that he  had come
across, during his search for rich  tombs, at a bend in the Great River many
thousands of cubits below the "City," the capital, Waset.
     Yakhmos had noticed traces of an old path that led to steep cliffs from
the shore of a small cove densely overgrown with rushes. The  place was  far
from any village and was never visited by anybody since there was nothing to
interest the farmer or the shepherd in those barren, rocky cliffs.
     There was no  danger in  continuing his  search and Yakhmos immediately
plunged into a narrow canyon strewn with huge boulders. The boulders covered
the path and had  apparently fallen after it had ceased to serve as a  means
of communication with the river-bank. For a long time Yakhmos roamed amongst
the  rocks, hollows washed  out  by water, and thorn bushes.  The canyon was
swarming  with spiders  and their webs, stretching across the path, clung to
the perspiring face of the plunderer of royal tombs.
     At last the canyon  widened to form an enclosed valley amidst the  high
hills. In the middle there was a small eminence surrounded by double rows of
irrigation ditches -apparently there  had formerly  been a spring there that
was  used to  water  the  gardens. Silence  reigned  in the  gloom  of  that
stifling, windless valley around which gleaming black cliffs rose in a solid
wall.  At  the far  end there was  another narrow canyon similar to that  by
which Yakhmos had entered a place forgotten by all.
     The tomb robber climbed up a hill and  from there noticed an  entry cut
in the cliffside that had been hidden  before by the eminence. The entry was
blocked by fallen stones and  Yakhmos had to work  for a long time before he
could get  inside. At last he found himself in the cool darkness of a  cave.
After he  had rested a little,  he lit the lamp that he  always carried with
him and made his  way along a high corridor, carefully examining the statues
on  either  side,  afraid  of cunning  traps  that  threatened  him  with  a
tormenting  death. His  fears, however, were  unfounded: either the old-time
builders had not prepared any traps, relying on the remoteness of the temple
to keep it  from the eyes  of strangers, or the thousands of years  that had
elapsed had rendered  the traps ineffective. Without any  hindrance  Yakhmos
entered a big, round underground chamber in the centre of which was a statue
of  the god  Thoth, his long  beak  stretching down  from the  height of his
pedestal. In the walls  Yakhmos found ten narrow slits of doorways, arranged
at  equal  distances  round  the  chamber.  They  led  to  rooms filled with
half-rotted  objects:  scrolls,  papyri  and  wooden  tablets  covered  with
drawings and inscriptions. One  of  the rooms was filled  with dried grasses
that turned  to dust the moment he touched  them; in another  lay  a pile of
stones. In  this way Yakhmos  inspected  eight  of the  rooms,  all  of them
square, without finding anything  that interested him. The ninth doorway lea
Yakhmos into a long room surrounded by granite columns. Between  the columns
were slabs of black  diabase covered with writing in the ancient language of
Tha-Quem.  In  the  middle  of   this  room  stood  another  statue  of  the
long-beaked, ibis-headed god Thoth; in a flat bronze bowl on the pedestal of
the  idol lay  a precious stone that glittered  in  the light  of the  lamp.
Yakhmos seized  it avariciously, brought it close to the light-and could not
restrain an exclamation  of disappointment. The stone was  not of those that
were valued in Tha-Quem. The experienced eye of the  tomb robber immediately
told him that the stone would be of no  value to  the merchants. The strange
thing  was, however, that  the  more  he looked  at  the stone, the  more it
pleased  him.  It  was a  blue-green fragment of crystal about the size of a
spearhead, flat, polished and unusually transparent. Yakhmos grew interested
and resolved to read the writing on  the walls hoping to find an explanation
of the stone's  origin. He still had not  forgotten the ancient language  of
Tha-Quem that he had learned in the school  for chief scribes, and set about
deciphering hieroglyphs that were in a splendid state of preservation on the
hard  diabase.  There  was  little  air  in  the  underground  chamber,  the
ventilation  channels had long since collapsed, the lamp  began to burn low,
but still Yakhmos read stubbornly on. Gradually the story of a great deed of
valour, performed shortly after the building of the Great Pyramid of Cheops,
was  unfolded  before  this  professional   tomb  robber.  Pharaoh  Jedephra
(Jedephra-a Pharaoh  of the IV Dynasty (2877-2869 B.C.). sent  his treasurer
Baurjed  on  an  expedition  far  to the south,  to  Tha-Nuter, the  Land of
Spirits,  to discover  the  bounds of the earth  and of the Great  Arc,  the
ocean. Baurjed  left from the harbour of Suu, on  the Blue  Waters,  (  Blue
Waters-the  Red Sea.  Suu-the  modern  El-Qoseir.) on  seven of  the biggest
ships. For seven years the sons of the Black  Land were absent.  Half of the
men and four of the ships were lost in terrible storms on the Great Arc, but
the  others sailed on and on to the south,  along unknown coasts, until they
eventually reached  the fabulous Land of  Punt.  Pharaoh's  orders, however,
drove  them still farther south. They had to find the end of the earth.  The
sons  of the Black  Land left  their ships  and  continued their  way  south
overland.
     For more  than  two  years they  continued  their journey  through dark
forests,  crossed  gigantic  plains  and  high  mountains-the  home  of  the
lightning-and, by  the  time their strength was  almost exhausted, reached a
big river on which lived  a powerful people, builders of stone temples. Here
they  discovered  that  the   end   of  the  earth  was  still  immeasurably
distant-far, far away  to the south, across plains of blue grass and through
forests of silver-leaved trees. It was there, beyond the  ends of the earth,
that the Great Arc flowed, the ocean, whose bounds were known to no man. The
travellers, realizing  that they were helpless to carry out Pharaoh's orders
to  the  letter, returned  to the Land of Punt and built and  equipped a new
ship  in place of  their old ones, worm-eaten and battered by storms on  the
Great Arc.  There  were scarcely enough survivors to man one  ship. The bold
adventurers, however, loaded the vessel with gifts  from Punt and set out on
their  unbelievably difficult journey. The urge  to  return to their  native
land  lent  them  strength-they  conquered  wind and  waves,  sandstorms and
submerged rocks, hunger and thirst and returned to the harbour of Sun in the
Blue Waters seven years after their departure.
     Much  had  changed  in  the Black  Land:  the new Pharaoh, the ruthless
Khafre, made the country  forget everything except  the building of a second
gigantic pyramid that  was to exalt  his name  for  thousands of  years. The
return of the travellers was quite unexpected and  Pharaoh  was disappointed
to learn that the earth and the ocean were immeasurable and that the peoples
inhabiting the regions to the south were numerous and strong. Baurjed showed
Pharaoh, who  considered himself the  ruler of the world, that the  Land  of
Quemt was nothing but  a tiny corner of a  huge world, abounding in  forests
and rivers, fruits and animals, and inhabited by numerous peoples skilled in
all manner of work and hunting.
     The  wrath  of  Pharaoh  descended  upon the  travellers  and Baurjed's
companions  were exiled to distant  provinces." It was forbidden, on pain of
death, to make any mention of the journey; passages in the  writings left by
Jedephra where  the  dispatch  of the expedition southwards to  the  Land of
Spirits was mentioned, were all expunged. Baurjed himself would have been  a
victim  of the  wrath  of  Pharaoh and all memory of his journey would  have
disappeared  for  all time, had it  not been for a wise old priest of Thoth,
the god of learning, art and writing.  This  was the priest who had inspired
the dead Pharaoh to investigate the bounds of the earth and seek new sources
of wealth  for a  country that had become impoverished by  the building of a
huge pyramid. He  was forced to  leave the court of  the new  Pharaoh by the
priests of Ra  ( Ra-the sun god, chief deity of the Egyptians in the Pyramid
period.) and helped the traveller  by offering him asylum in a hidden Temple
of Thoth  where  secret books, plans and  samples  of stones and plants from
distant  lands  were stored. On the  orders  of  the priest, Baurjed's great
journey was  recorded  on  stone slabs so that it might be  preserved in  an
unapproachable underground chamber until such times as the country  stood in
need of  that knowledge.  Baurjed  brought a  blue-green  transparent stone,
unknown  to the people  of Tha-Quem, from  the  most distant land he reached
beyond the  great southern river.  Such stones were obtained in the Land  of
the  Blue Plains,  three  months journey south of  the great  river. Baurjed
offered this symbol of the extreme ends of the earth  to the god  Thoth-this
was the stone Yakhmos had taken from the pedestal of the statue.
     Yakhmos was unable to read the story of the journey to the  end. He had
just come to a description of the wonderful  submarine gardens  seen by  the
travellers in the Blue Waters when the lamp went out  and the plunderer  had
the  greatest difficulty in getting out of  the underground chamber,  taking
with him only the unusual stone.
     In the light of day the crystal from the distant land seemed  even more
beautiful; Yakhmos would not part with the stone  but it did  not bring  him
good luck.
     Pandion had a great journey to his native land ahead of him and Yakhmos
hoped that  the  stone with which Baurjed had returned  from  an  unheard of
distance would help the Hellene, too.
     "Didn't you know anything about that journey before?" asked Pandion.
     "No,  it has remained hidden from the sons of Quemt," answered Yakhmos.
"Punt has long been known to us, the ships  of Quemt have made many journeys
there at various  times, but the lands farther south  still remain,  for us,
the mysterious Land of the Spirits."
     "Can  it be possible that there have been  no other  attempts to  reach
those  countries? Could not  somebody else  have read those inscriptions, as
you did, and have told others about them?"
     Yakhmos  thought  for a  while, he  did not  know  how  to  answer  the
foreigner.
     "The princes  of the south, the governors of the southern  provinces of
Tha-Quem, have often penetrated into the interior of the southern countries,
but they only wrote about their spoils, about the ivory, gold  and fish they
brought to Pharaoh, so  the road remains unknown. And then, nobody has tried
to sail farther south than Punt. It is too dangerous-there are no such brave
people today as there were in ancient times."
     "But why hasn't anybody read those inscriptions?" insisted Pandion.
     "I don't know, I can't answer that question," admitted the Egyptian.
     Yakhmos, of course, could  not know that the  priests,  whom the people
believed to be  great scholars, the  holders of ancient  secrets,  had  long
since  ceased to be any such thing. Learning had degenerated into  religious
ceremony and magic formulas, the papyri that  contained the  wisdom  of past
ages were rotting away in the tombs. The temples were deserted and in ruins,
nobody  was  interested in the history of  the country  as told by countless
inscriptions  on  hard stone.  Yakhmos  could  not know  that  such  is  the
inevitable fate of  all science  that alienates itself from the invigorating
strength of the people and becomes the  property of a narrow circle  of  the
initiated. . . .
     Dawn  was  drawing nigh.  With  a  feeling of despondency Pandion  bade
farewell to the unfortunate Egyptian to whom no hope of salvation was left.
     The  young Hellene wanted  to take the dagger  and leave  the stone  to
Yakhmos.
     "Can't you understand that I need nothing any more?" said the Egyptian.
"Why do you want to throw away such a beautiful stone in this foul hole of a
shehne?"
     Pandion took  the  dagger  between his teeth,  grasped the stone in his
hand and, crawling in the shadows, reached his own cell in safety.
     Until  daylight  broke he lay sleepless. His cheeks burned and shudders
ran over his whole  body. He lay thinking  of the great change  that  was to
enter his life, of the imminent  end of the monotonous stream  of weary days
of sorrow and despair.
     The  hole that formed  the entrance to  his  cell turned grey  and  the
pitiful objects that  constituted his  entire  possessions gradually emerged
from the darkness.  Pandion held the dagger in the morning light. The  broad
blade  of  black bronze ( Black bronze-a specially hard alloy  of copper and
one of the' rare metals. The metallurgists of antiquity were able  to obtain
alloys of exceptional hardness  by adding  zinc, cadmium and other metals to
the  bronze. ) with a high rib down the middle was sharpened to a fine edge.
The massive hilt was carved in the  form of  a lioness,  the savage  goddess
Sekhrnet. Using the dagger, Pandion dug a hole under the wall and was hiding
the Egyptian's gift in it, when suddenly he  remembered the stone.  Fumbling
in  the  straw  he found it and  took  it to the  light  to examine  it more
thoroughly.
     The flat fragment of crystal with rounded edges was about the size of a
spearhead.  It  was  hard, extremely  clear and  transparent and its  colour
seemed to be a greyish blue in the darkness that precedes the dawn.
     As Pandion laid the  stone  on the palm  of his  hand  the rays of  the
rising sun suddenly struck it. The stone was transformed-it lay on Pandion's
hand in all its brilliance, its blue-green colour" was unexpectedly  joyous,
bright  and  deep,  with  a  warm  tinge of transparent,  golden  wine.  The
mirror-like surface of the stone had apparently been polished by the hand of
man.
     The colouring of the stone reminded  Pandion of something that was very
familiar  to him, its reflection brought  warmth to the youth's heavy heart.
Thalassa! The sea. It  was exactly  that colour, far  from the shore, at the
time when the sun hung high in the blue heavens. Natura'e, the divine stone,
is what the unfortunate Yakhmos had called it!
     The miraculous sparkle of the crystal on the  morning  of a joyless day
was a good omen to Pandion.
     Yakhmos'  farewell gifts  were  magnificent-a dagger  and  a  stone  of
unknown properties. Pandion  believed that the stone portended his return to
the sea, to the sea that would not betray him, that would bring  him back to
liberty  and his native land. The young  Hellene  peered  intently  into the
stone out of whose transparent depths rolled the waves of his native shores.
. . .
     The menacing roll of the big drum thundered over the cells-this was the
signal arousing the slaves for their day's work.
     Pandion made a momentary decision-he would not part  with that  unusual
stone, he would not leave that symbol of  the free sea in the dusty earth of
the shehne. Let the stone remain with him always.
     After a few futile attempts he eventually found a way to hide the stone
in his loin-cloth  and, although he lost no time in burying the dagger,  was
almost late for the morning meal.
     On the  journey  and during their work in the  gardens Pandion  watched
Cavius carefully and noticed that the latter was constantly exchanging short
phrases first with one and  then with another of the shehne leaders known to
Pandion.  These immediately went away  from the Etruscan and talked to their
followers.
     Pandion chose a safe moment and drew  near Cavius. The Etruscan did not
raise his head from the stone he was  dressing but spoke softly and quickly,
without even taking breath.
     "Tonight,  before the moon  rises, in the end  gallery of the  northern
wall. . . ."
     Pandion returned to his work. On  the way back to  the shehne he passed
Cavius' message on to Kidogo.
     Pandion  spent the evening in  anticipation-for a long time he  had not
been in such high spirits and so well prepared to fight.
     As soon as the compound had quietened down and the sentries on the wall
were dozing, Kidogo appeared in the darkness of Pandion's cell.
     The two friends crawled quickly to  the wall and turned into the narrow
corridor between the cells. They reached the north wall where the shadows in
the  corridor were  deepest  of all.  The  sentries rarely walked along this
wall,  they  could  observe the compound  more easily  from  the western and
eastern walls,  looking along the  corridors between the cells.  There  was,
therefore, no  danger that  the  sentries above would hear  their  whispered
conversation.
     No less than sixty slaves  lay in two rows in the corridor,  their feet
pressed  against the walls and their heads together. Cavius and  Remdus were
in  the  middle. The elder  Etruscan called Pandion and Kidogo to  him in  a
whisper.
     Feeling for the Etruscan's hand, Pandion passed  to  him the dagger  he
had brought with him. Cavius felt the cold metal in some perplexity, cut his
hand  on the sharp blade and then avidly gripped  the weapon, whispering his
thanks.
     The  experienced  old  soldier  had yearned for weapons  and the dagger
brought  joy  to his heart. He also realized  that by handing  the  precious
dagger over to  him the  Hellene  recognized his seniority and had,  without
words, elected him the leader.
     He did not stop to ask Pandion where he had  got  the-dagger, but began
to  talk in whispers, making  long pauses so that  those near him could pass
his words on to their more distant comrades who were out of hearing.
     The  conference of  the leaders  had begun-the question of the life and
liberty of five hundred slaves, imprisoned in the shehne, was to be decided.
     Cavius said that the rebellion could not be put  off any Õ longer, that
there  was no hope in the future,  the situation would only get worse if the
slaves were again broken up into groups and sent in different directions.
     "The strength that  is our only  guarantee of  success in  struggle  is
being undermined by the  heavy drudgery required  by  our taskmasters; every
month in  captivity means loss of health  and  vitality. Death  in battle is
honourable and joyful;  it is  a thousand times easier to die in battle than
to die under the blows of a whip."
     A unanimous  whisper of  approval  passed along the rows  of  invisible
listeners.
     "We must  not delay the  revolt,"  continued  Cavius, "but there is one
condition that must be fulfilled: we must  find a  way  out of this accursed
country. Even if we are joined by  two or three other shehne, even if we are
able to get weapons, our forces will still be small and we shall not be able
to hold out for long. Ever since the Great Revolt  of the slaves the  rulers
of  Quemt have  done  everything  possible  to keep  the  slaves  divided in
separate compounds, we have no contact with the  others and we  shall not be
able to arouse a large number of people simultaneously. We are right  in the
capital, where there are many  soldiers, and we shall  not  be able to fight
our way through the country. The archers of Aigyptos are a te-rri-ble force;
we shall not have many bows, and not everybody will be able to use them. Let
us think  whether we can make  our way through the desert to the east or the
west. We may find ourselves  in the desert shortly after leaving the shehne.
If we are unable to cross the desert, then I think we must drop the idea  of
a  revolt-it will be a useless waste of effort and  a tormenting death. Then
let  only  those of us  flee  that are prepared  to make the attempt to pass
through certain death with a  faint  hope of liberty. I,  for example,  will
make the attempt."
     Excited whispers filled the air around the now silent Etruscan.
     His words, passed  from end to end of  the rows of slaves, had at first
aroused  militant ardour  in the  listeners,  but  now  doubt was  spreading
amongst those bold  leaders. His words took  away all  hope  of a successful
outcome; they removed even the ghost of a chance, so that the bravest of the
warriors wavered.  Whispers in many  languages carried  down  the coal-black
tunnel of the corridor.
     An Amu, a Semite from the land beyond the Blue  Waters, crawled  to the
centre  of the group  where  the four friends  lay.  Men  of  the Amu  tribe
constituted a large proportion of the inhabitants of the shehne.
     "I insist on a revolt. Let death be our lot but we shall be revenged on
the  accursed people  of  this accursed land! We  will be an  example to  be
followed by others! Too long has  Quemt been living in peace, the brutal art
of oppression  has robbed millions of slaves of  the will to fight. We  will
light the flames of revolt."
     "It's good  that  you  think  like that,  you're  a brave man,"  Cavius
interrupted him. "But what will you say to those whom you will lead?"
     "I will say the same to them," answered the Semite fervently.
     "Are you  sure they'll  follow you?" whispered the Etruscan. "The truth
is too painful... and lies  are useless under  such circumstances-the people
will easily sense the truth. To them the truth is that which each carries in
his own heart."
     The Semite did not answer him. In the meantime  the lean, lithe body of
the  Libyan Akhmi squeezed through  the rows  of recumbent men. Pandion knew
that this young slave, captured  during a  battle at the Horns of the Earth,
came  from a noble family. He  assured them that  near the tombs of the most
ancient kings of Quemt, near  the cities of Tinis and Abydos, a road  led to
the southwest as far as Wahet-Wer, a big oasis in  the desert. It was a road
with good wells, plenty of water and  was not guarded by troops. They had to
plunge into the  desert immediately  behind the temple Zesher-Zesheru,  turn
southwest and cross the road at a point a hundred and twenty thousand cubits
from the river. The Libyan undertook to  lead them to the road  and farther.
There were but few troops at the oasis and the insurgents could easily seize
it. The next stage was a  mere twenty-five thousand cubits across the desert
to  the next oasis, Pasht, that stretched  westward in a long, narrow strip.
Farther still they would find the Oasis  of Mut, whence  a route with  wells
led  to the hills  of  the Dead Serpent; from  this latter place there was a
road  leading southwards to the Land of the Blacks, which the Libyan did not
know.
     "I  know that road," Kidogo put in. "I travelled that road in the first
year of my captivity."
     "There's a good supply of dates  at  the oases and we  can rest  there.
There are no fortifications at any of them and we can take pack animals with
us; with their help we  can get as far as the Dead Serpent and from then on,
beyond the Salt Lake, there's more water."
     The Libyan's plan was generally approved.  It seemed  quite possible of
fulfilment.
     The ever-cautious Cavius, however, asked the Libyan more questions.
     "Are  you certain that there are wells at  a distance of a hundred  and
twenty thousand cubits from the river? It's a long journey to make."
     "It may be a  little  more," answered the Libyan calmly. "A  strong man
can make that journey without  water  under  one condition-we must  start no
later than  -midnight  and march without a  halt. You  can't  live more than
twenty-four  hours without water  in the  desert, nor can  you march  in the
afternoon."
     One of the Asians,  a Heriusha, proposed attacking  the fortress on the
road to the  harbour of Suu, but, despite the fact  that this plan  was very
attractive to the slaves, most of  whom were Asians, and  to the Amu, it was
dropped since  it was agreed that it would be impossible  to fight their way
to the east.
     The Libyan's plan was more promising  although  there  was disagreement
between the Negroes and the  Asians:  the road to  the  south-west  took the
Asians still farther from their native land, but it was  advantageous to the
Negroes and the Libyans.  The  Libyans hoped to  travel northwards  from the
Oasis  of Mut and reach that part  of their country that  was  not under the
rule of the  Egyptians. Pandion and  the Etruscans intended  going  with the
Libyans.
     They were all pacified by an elderly  Nubian who said he knew a road to
the south  that by-passed the fortresses of the Black Land and  went through
the plains of Nubia to the Blue Waters.
     The narrow crescent  of the moon  rose  above the terraced hills of the
desert and still the insurgent  slaves continued to  plan their flight. They
were now discussing  the details of the revolt and gave a task to each group
under a specific leader.
     The  revolt was timed to begin on the night after the next, immediately
it became completely dark.
     Sixty men crawled silently back to various parts  of the compound while
above them, silhouetted against the moonlit  sky, stood the sentries, little
suspecting what was  going on below them and full of contempt for those  who
slept in the dark hole beneath their feet.
     Cautiously and unnoticed, the  plans for  the revolt continued all next
day and  night  and all  through the  second day.  The leaders,  for fear of
traitors, spoke only to those with whom they were well acquainted, expecting
that  the others  would join  the general mass  of the  insurgents  once the
sentries had been removed.
     The  night  of the  revolt came.  Groups of  people  assembled  in  the
darkness, one  for  each of the  three  walls-  the  northern,  western  and
southern. On the eastern side, two groups gathered under the inner wall.
     The movement  of the men had been carried out  so speedily that  by the
time Cavius struck an upturned water jug with a stone, giving the signal for
attack, they had already formed  living pyramids. The  bodies of seventy men
formed  a slope  against  the  vertical  wall. There were  five such  living
bridges over which men, intoxicated with the coming battle, swarmed from all
sides.
     Cavius, Pandion, Remdus and Kidogo  were amongst the first to mount the
inner wall.  The Hellene, without pausing to  think,  leaped down  into  the
darkness and was followed by dozens of others.
     Pandion  knocked  down  a soldier  who  appeared from  the guard-house,
jumped on  his back  and twisted his neck. The  Egyptian's back-bone cracked
softly  and his body  went limp  in  Pandion's  hands. All round him, in the
darkness,  the  slaves  hunted and seized their hated enemies. In their fury
men  attacked  armed soldiers  with  their bare  hands. Before  any  of  the
soldiers  could defend himself against an  attacker  from  the front, others
jumped  on him from the sides and from behind; unarmed,  but strong in their
wrathful fury, the slaves dug their  teeth into the hands that  held weapons
and stuck  their fingers  into  the soldiers' eyes. Weapons,  weapons at any
cost^-this was the one idea of the attackers. Those who succeeded in seizing
a  dagger  or  spear  were  still  more furious  in  their attacks,  feeling
death-dealing strength in their  hands. Pandion struck  right  and left with
the sword he  had taken from a  dead enemy. Kidogo fought  with  a huge pole
used for carrying water.
     Cavius mounted the living bridge and threw himself at  four soldiers on
guard over the inner door. The  astounded Egyptians put up a poor resistance
as they were literally crushed by  the avalanche of silent  men that fell en
them from above.
     With a shout of triumph Cavius pushed open  the heavy bolt on the doors
and soon the crowd of liberated slaves occupied the entire area  between the
walls,  broke into  the