Which is the true Nile? Is it the Blue Nile, which seems to come down from the distant mountains? Or is it the White Nile, which has traversed the immense plains of equatorial Africa? The old Egyptians never knew. The river kept the secret of its source from them as obstinately as it withheld it from us until a few years ago. Vainly did their victorious armies follow the Nile for months together, as they pursued the tribes who dwelt upon its banks, only to find it as wide, as full, as irresistible in its progress as ever. It was a fresh-water sea—iauma, ioma was the name by which they called it. The Egyptians, therefore, never sought its source. It was said to be of supernatural origin, to rise in Paradise, to traverse burning regions inaccessible to man, and afterwards to fall into a sea whence it made its way to Egypt.
The sea mentioned in all the tales is, perhaps, a less extravagant invention than we are at first inclined to think. A lake, nearly as large as the Victoria Nyanza, once covered the marshy plain where the Bahr-el-Abiad unites with the Sobat and with the Bahr-el-Ghazal. Alluvial deposits have filled up all but its deepest depression, which is known as Birket Nu; but in ages preceding our era it must still have been vast enough to suggest to Egyptian soldiers and boatmen the idea of an actual sea opening into the Indian Ocean.
Everything is dependent upon the river—the soil, the produce of the soil, the species of animals it bears, the birds which it feeds—and hence it was the Egyptians placed the river among their gods. They personified it as a man with regular features, and a vigorous but portly body, such as befits the rich of high lineage. Sometimes water springs from his breast; sometimes he presents a frog, or libation of vases, or bears a tray full of offerings of flowers, corn, fish, or geese. The inscriptions call him “Hapi, father of the gods, lord of sustenance, who maketh food to be, and covereth the two lands of Egypt with his products; who giveth life, banisheth want, and filleth the granaries to overflowing.”
He is evolved into two personages, one being sometimes coloured red, the other blue. The former, who wears a cluster of lotus-flowers on his head, presides over Egypt of the south; the latter has a bunch of papyrus for his headdress, and watches over the Delta. Two goddesses, corresponding to the two Hapis—Mirit Qimait for the Upper, and Mirit-Mihit for the Lower Egypt—personified the banks of the river. They are represented with outstretched arms, as though begging for the water that should make them fertile.
II.—The Gods of Egypt
The incredible number of religious scenes to be found represented on the ancient monuments of Egypt is at first glance very striking. Nearly every illustration in the works of Egyptologists shows us the figure of some deity. One would think the country had been inhabited for the most part by gods, with just enough men and animals to satisfy the requirements of their worship. Each of these deities represented a function, a moment in the life of man or of the universe. Thus, Naprit was identified with the ripe ear of wheat; Maskhonit appeared by the child’s cradle at the very moment of its birth; and Raninit presided over the naming and nurture of the newly born.