March 19th.—Temperature, 92° in shade. The hazy appearance noticed during the last two days has passed away; the wind also has subsided. I think we may expect a hot day again.
This morning a son of the Hamran Sheik came to camp, demanding a tax of eight dollars on our guide. The latter is to receive 25 dollars per month, out of which the Heikota Sheik wants eight dollars. To begin at the fountain-head, the Egyptian Government have a head-tax—every young person on reaching a certain age is taxed. The owner of every date palm-tree has to pay a tax, the same with the owner of a “sageer,” or sakia (a water-wheel); in fact, I believe everybody and everything is taxed. The Government look to the Governor-General of the Soudan for a good round sum; he, in turn, looks to the Mudir, or governor of a district. He squeezes the necessary out of the sheiks of the various tribes, and they in turn (to use a metaphor, suck the orange dry) screw out of the poor Arabs of the tribe what they require. If the sheik fails to produce the sum required of him by the Mudir, the latter swoops down on his camels, flocks, and herds and sells a sufficient number of them to produce the required sum; but if the sheik has no camels, &c., he himself is seized and put in durance vile until the tribe find the necessary number of dollars.
Some worms there are who feed on men; Others there are who feed on them. These lesser worms have worms to bite ’em; Thus worm eats worm _ad infinitum_.
How can Egypt ever prosper under such a system? What inducement have these poor Arabs to accumulate anything more than is sufficient for their daily wants? None. When we engaged servants at Heikota, at, say, 12 dollars per month, the first thing the sheik did was to take two dollars from each man, and very probably as much, or more, at the termination of their services. The beasts, the ants, the reptiles, and birds prey on one another; crocodiles on big fish, and big fish on little ones. There is no Salvation Army there, and if there were (I don’t want to be ironical, but _Byron_-ical) I do not think there exists a more preying community.
March 20th.—This morning, just after breakfast, I took up my gun and went about 100 yards from camp, with the intention of shooting a baboon. But my heart smote me—they looked so awfully human—and I desisted; but I sat down and derived much amusement from watching enormous baboons and little monkeys gambolling by the water’s edge.