One need not dwell, however, on this aspect of the Egyptian temperament.  It is more pleasing, and as pertinent to the argument, to follow the old lords of the Nile into the sunshine once more, and to glance for a moment at their sports.  Hunting was a pleasure to them, in which they indulged at every opportunity.  One sees representations of this with great frequency upon the walls of the tombs.  A man will be shown standing in a reed boat which has been pushed in amongst the waving papyrus.  A boomerang is in his hand, and his wife by his side helps him to locate the wild duck, so that he may penetrate within throwing-distance of the birds before they rise.  Presently up they go with a whir, and the boomerang claims its victims; while all manner of smaller birds dart from amidst the reeds, and gaudy butterflies pass startled overhead.  Again one sees the hunter galloping in his chariot over the hard sand of the desert, shooting his arrows at the gazelle as he goes.  Or yet again with his dogs he is shown in pursuit of the long-eared Egyptian hare, or of some other creature of the desert.  When not thus engaged he may be seen excitedly watching a bullfight, or eagerly judging the merits of rival wrestlers, boxers, and fencers.  One may follow him later into the seclusion of his garden, where, surrounded by a wealth of trees and flowers, he plays draughts with his friends, romps with his children, or fishes in his artificial ponds.  There is much evidence of this nature to show that the Egyptian was as much given to these healthy amusements as he was to the mirth of the feast.  Josephus states that the Egyptians were a people addicted to pleasure, and the evidence brought together in the foregoing pages shows that his statement is to be confirmed.  In sincere joy of living they surpassed any other nation of the ancient world.  Life was a thing of such delight to the Egyptian, that he shrank equally from losing it himself and from taking it from another.  His prayer was that he might live to be a centenarian.  In spite of the many wars of the Egyptians, there was less unnecessary bloodshed in the Nile valley than in any other country which called itself civilised.  Death was as terrible to them as it was inevitable, and the constant advice of the thinker was that the living should make the most of their life.  When a king died, it was said that “he went forth to heaven having spent life in happiness,” or that “he rested after life, having completed his years in happiness.”  It is true that the Egyptians wished to picture the after-life as one of continuous joy.  One sees representations of a man’s soul seated in the shade of the fruit-trees of the Underworld, while birds sing in the branches above him, and a lake of cool water lies before him; but they seemed to know that this was too pleasant a picture to be the real one.  A woman, the wife of a high priest, left upon her tombstone the following inscription, addressed to her husband:—­