I am to inherit another little blackie from Ross’s agency at Keneh:  the funniest little chap.  I cannot think why I go on expecting so-called savages to be different from other people.  Mabrook’s simple talk about his village, and the animals and the victuals; and how the men of a neighbouring village stole him in order to sell him for a gun (the price of a gun is a boy), but were prevented by a razzia of Turks, etc. who killed the first aggressors and took all the children—­all this he tells just as an English boy might tell of bird-nesting—­delights me.  He has the same general notion of right and wrong; and yet his tribe know neither bread nor any sort of clothes, nor cheese nor butter, nor even drink milk, nor the African beer; and it always rains there, and is always deadly cold at night, so that without a fire they would die.  They have two products of civilization—­guns and tobacco, for which they pay in boys and girls, whom they steal.  I wonder where the country is, it is called Sowaghli, and the next people are Mueseh, on the sea-coast, and it is not so hot as Egypt.  It must be in the southern hemisphere.  The new negrillon is from Darfoor.  Won’t Maurice be amused by his attendants, the Darfoor boy will trot after him, as he can shoot and clean guns, tiny as he is Maurice seems to wish to come and I hope Alexander will let him spend the winter here, and I will take him up to the second Cataract; I really think he would enjoy it.

My boat will not return I think for another six weeks.  Mr. Eaton and Mr. Baird were such nice people! their dragoman, a Maltese, appeared to hate the Italians with ferocity.  He said all decent people in Malta would ten times rather belong to the Mahommedans than to the Italians—­after all blood tells.  He was a very respectable young man, and being a dragoman and the son of a dragoman, he has seen the world, and particularly the Muslims.  I suppose it is the Pope that makes the Italians so hateful to them.

The post here is dreadful, I would not mind their reading one’s letters if they would only send them on.  Omar begs we to say that he and his children will pray for you all his life, please God, not for the money only but still more for the good words and the trusting him.  But he says, ’I can’t say much politikeh, Please God she shall see, only I kiss her hand now.’  You will hear from Janet about her excursion.  What I liked best was shooting the Cataract in a small boat; it was fine fantasia.

April 19, 1867:  Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.  LUXOR, April 19, 1867.

Dearest Alick,