Page 23

A Tour of Dashur

O n the eastern side of the pyramid

“Well, this one seems rather well preserved,” Barbara remarked as Will led her away from the hantours to where their dragoman stood.

Meanwhile one of the drivers hurried over with two collapsible chairs and set them up on the hard ground while another spread out a large woven blanket.

He held his hand out to indicate she should take a seat.

“I’m not infirm, but I think I shall take him up on his offer,” she said to Will.

“As will I,” Will murmured, pulling out his pocket watch to discover it was already past two o’clock. Despite the breakfast they had been served on the ship, his stomach grumbled.

“If you are hungry, now would be a good time to eat your picnic luncheon,” Omar said.

Another driver appeared with their basket of food and yet another brought more chairs and another blanket.

“We are protected from the breeze on this side of the pyramid, one the local people refer to as the Bat Pyramid.”

“And that one?” Will asked, his gaze directed toward a dark pyramid that looked as if its sides were angled in halfway up the structure.

“Ah, I will talk about the Bent Pyramid in a moment,” Omar replied.

“It seems to be appropriately named,” Stella commented, before she turned her attention to the one that rose in front of them. At the apex, the sun was barely hidden by its triangular top. Rays of light splayed out as if from the pyramid itself.

Within a few minutes, their luncheon was spread out on the blanket in the small bit of shade provided by the pyramid, the ladies and older gentlemen seated in the wooden chairs while the younger men lounged about on the blankets.

Bradley climbed onto Helen’s lap, his grin widening once she had him seated so he faced the dragoman.

“They call it the Bat Pyramid because...?” David prompted, his face screwed into a grimace.

“There are bats inside,” Omar acknowledged, his white teeth gleaming when David made a sound of dismay.

“This looks as large as those we saw at Giza,” Harry remarked, before he helped himself to a hunk of cheese and some flat bread.

“Almost,” Omar agreed. “Khufu and Khafre are larger, though, and were only made possible because this one was successful.”

“Successful?” Tom repeated.

“ This is Egypt’s first successful attempt at building a true smooth-sided pyramid,” Omar stated proudly.

“Old Kingdom, is it not?” David guessed.

“Indeed. The Pharaoh Sneferu—he was the father of Khufu and Khafre—oversaw the construction of four pyramids during his reign. This was the third, built we believe starting in 2575 BC, and is estimated to have taken between ten and seventeen years to complete.”

“What were his first two pyramids?” David asked, helping himself to a kofta , a sort of meatball flavored with seasonings.

“Ah. A complete failure and an almost failure.”

A series of gasps of surprise sounded at the guide’s words. “Failure?” Will repeated, helping himself to a kofta from the small basket containing a number of foods that could be eaten without utensils. The cook on their ship had obviously understood they would be eating in the desert.

“There was once a Pyramid at Meidum, but it collapsed sometime in our antiquity,” Omar explained, pointing off in the distance to indicate where it might have been located.

“And the ‘almost failure’?” David prompted, his gaze directed at what was left of the Black Pyramid, thinking the dragoman was referring to it.

“You will see that one next,” he replied, pointing toward the south. Given where they were located on the eastern side of the Red Pyramid, they couldn’t see it.

“This one looks rather squat,” Randy remarked, holding his hands together so his middle fingers touched while his hands matched the angle of the sides of the pyramid.

“At a perfect forty-three degree angle,” Omar stated.

“You see, Sneferu discovered with the Bent Pyramid...” He once again pointed to the south.

“The original fifty-four degree angle was far too sharp—too steep—which was probably the angle used to build the Pyramid at Meidum,” he said, obviously pleased to have such an interested audience.

“When it displayed signs of instability—it may have even partially collapsed while it was under construction—the angle was abruptly changed to forty-three degrees.” He waved an arm to indicate the pyramid behind him.

“So forty-three degrees was chosen for this one, and as you can see, it has survived almost forty-three hundred years because of it.”

A murmur of appreciation passed through the group.

“Third time was the charm,” Randy commented. He glanced around, and when he didn’t see Diana, he excused himself from the group and went off in search of her.

“Has it always been this reddish color?” Stella asked.

Omar held up a finger. “This is a good question.”

Stella beamed in delight.

“No.” When he didn’t immediately say anything else, she scoffed.

He chuckled, obviously amused with himself.

“It once had a veneer of polished white limestone completely covering it,” he finally replied.

“Now, imagine how magnificent it must have appeared on a day such as this,” he said, his hands spread wide.

“There are reports that when the sun hit the top of it, it glowed as if it was made of silver and gold, which is actually a possibility for what is called the pyramidion—the very top of a pyramid. You see, the pyramid builders used to cap their creations with a material we call electrum , a sort of combination of gold and silver and other metals,” he explained.

“The reflection must have been blinding on a sunny day,” Will commented.

“The god Ra at his finest,” Omar agreed, obviously pleased the earl had provided the perfect setup for his comment.

“Can we go inside this one?” David asked, as if he was anxious to do so. Apparently, he had forgotten about the bats.

Omar winced. “You can, but it is terribly hot, and the air inside is very poor,” he replied.

“Worse than Khufu’s pyramid at Giza?” David pressed.

Nodding, the guide said, “You ask as if you made the trek inside that one?”

David nodded. “I did.”

Omar’s eyes widened. “You are a brave man.”

A round of chuckles greeted the comment, and David’s face reddened with embarrassment. “I was merely startled when that boy appeared from out of the darkness,” he murmured in his own defense.

“How does one get inside this pyramid, and was anything found in there?” Tom asked with excitement.

Rolling his eyes, Omar inhaled and sighed in resignation.

“The entrance is accessible,” he admitted, once again pointing toward the south.

“But it requires you climb one-hundred-and-twenty-five steps to get to the entrance. Steep steps. Then you must go down through a two-hundred foot passage that leads to two antechambers.”

“Have you been in inside?” Helen asked, her hands wrapped around her baby brother’s middle. A bonnet covered his head, and he was seated so he faced outward. He seemed as interested in the giant wall of red limestone in front of them as he did the kofta he gripped in one hand.

“I have,” Omar replied. “The antechambers feature nearly forty-foot high corbeled ceilings, and there is an even higher corbeled burial chamber. Very impressive once you climb up to it.”

“Was anything in there?” she asked in awe.

He angled his head first to the left and then to the right. “When it was first entered, it is said there were some human remains found. Fragmentary, at best,” he clarified. “But they were thought to be of Sneferu himself.”

A collective awe sounded throughout his audience.

“I will allow you time to eat your luncheon, but should you have questions, I will do my very best to answer them,” he said.

The group turned their attention to the various foods spread out on the blankets, the young men helping themselves to second and third helpings of the savory meatballs. When no one asked any questions of their guide, he sauntered off in the direction Randy had gone only moments earlier.

“ H ere you are,” Randy said as he approached Diana, his wife sitting crossed-legged on the ground as she sketched the face of the pyramid which included the access to its entry. “I feared I would discover you had gone inside by yourself.”

Diana glanced up from her sketchpad. “It has been tempting, but from what I read of this tomb, it’s quite hot inside. Easier to navigate than the one at Giza, though.”

“Omar said the air is of poor quality. I feared you might faint should you go in there,” Randy said as he lowered himself to the ground. He held out a napkin filled with a variety of foods. “I wasn’t sure what you might like, so I brought a bit of everything.”

She gave him an appreciative grin before leaning over to buss him on the cheek. “You are a dear,” she said, plucking a kofta from the napkin. “I’m starving.” She bit off the end of it and made a humming noise.

Randy grinned before directing his attention to her drawing. “Will you paint it?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she responded, her quick strokes having already outlined the pyramid and the curving line of stairs that led to the opening halfway up the south-facing surface. “The color will be quite a challenge to match.”

“Is it what you expected?” he asked, his brows furrowed with worry. He hadn’t read any of the books on Egypt she had been reading every night before they turned out the lights, and he was curious as to her expectations.

She stopped drawing and regarded him with an expression of surprise. “Better, I should think, although I do wish some of the veneer was still intact. That and the pyramidion,” she commented. “I read that it was coated in?—”

“Electrum,” he interrupted, grinning when her blonde brows rose in surprise. “Omar told us about it,” he added sheepishly.

“Then he is a good dragoman,” she stated.

“He seems quite proud of what his ancestors built.”