At this place we found some difficulty in purchasing, water for the donkeys; competition in the desert is not, as in other places, beneficial to the traveller. By some understanding with the Steam Committee, Mr. Hill has put his people into the bungalows; and they, it appears, have orders not to sell water to persons who travel under Mr. Waghorn’s agency. If the original purpose of these houses was to afford general accommodation, the shelter which cannot be refused is rendered nugatory by withholding the supplies necessary for the subsistence of men and cattle. We procured water at last; but every thing attainable at these places is dear and bad.
We arrived, at rather an early hour, at our halting place for the night; and as we considered it to be desirable to get into Suez as speedily as possible, we agreed to start by three o’clock on the following morning. Just as we had finished our evening meal, three gentlemen of our acquaintance, who had scrambled across the desert from the Pyramids, came up, weary and wayworn, and as hungry as possible. We put the best that we had before them, and then retired to the opposite apartment. But in this place I found it impossible to stay; there was no free circulation of air throughout the room, and it had all the benefit of the smell from the stable and other abominations.
Leaving, therefore, my companions asleep, and wrapping myself up in my shawl, I stole out into the passage, where there were several Arabs lying about, and not without difficulty contrived to step between them, and to unfasten the door which opened upon the desert. There was no moon, but the stars gave sufficient light to render the scene distinctly visible. A lamp gleamed from the window of the apartment which I had quitted, and the camels, donkeys, and people belonging to the united parties, formed themselves into very picturesque groups upon the sand, constituting altogether a picture which could not fail to excite many agreeable sensations. The whitened bones of animals perishing from fatigue and thirst, while attempting to cross the arid expanse, associated in our minds with privation, toil, and danger, told too truly that these notions were not purely ideal; but here was a scene of rest and repose which the desert had never before presented; and mean and inconvenient as the building I contemplated might be, its very existence in such a place seemed almost a marvel, and the imagination, kindling at the sight, could scarcely set bounds to its expectations for the future. In the present frame of my mind, however, I was rather disturbed by the indications of change already commenced, and still to increase. I had long desired to spend a night alone upon the desert, and without wandering to a dangerous distance, I placed a ridge of sand between my solitary station and the objects which brought the busy world to view, and indulged in thoughts of scenes and circumstances which happened long ago.