Chapter XXII: Letter XX

PYRAMIDS OF MERΟË. _April 22, 1844._

We left Chartûm en the 30th of March, toward evening, and sailed half the night by moonshine.

On the next day we reached Tamaniât. Almost the whole village had disappeared, and only a single wide stretching ruin was to be seen. The slaves had laid everything in ashes on their revolt; only the walls of the factory are yet standing. As I had left the bark on foot, I was quite unprepared to come in the neighbourhood of the still smoking ruins, upon a frightful scene, in an open meadow quite covered with black mangled corpses. The greater part of the slaves, who had been recaptured, had here been shot in masses.

With sundown, we stopped near Suriê Abu Ramle, at a cataract, which we could pass by night.

On the first of April we went off long before dawn, and expected to get on a good distance. With the day broke, however, a heavy storm of wind, and as the ship could not be drawn near on account of the rocky shore, we were obliged to stop after a few hours, and lie still in the annoying thick sand air. Before us lay the single mountain chain of Qirre, whence, like sentinels, rose the Ashtân (the Thirsty) to the left, the Rauiân (the Satisfied) to the right, from the plain, the former being, however, more distant from the river.

The Rauian only lay about three quarters of an hour away from our bark; I went out with my gun, crossed the unfertile stony plain, and climbed the mountain, which is almost surrounded with water during the inundation, so that we were always told that the mount was on an island. The rock texture is a mixture of coarse and fine granite, with much quartz. On the way back we came by the village of Meláh, the huts of which lie concealed behind great mounds, formed by the excavations of the inhabitants for salt (_malh_), of which much is found in the neighbourhood. (Meláh is, therefore, the Arabic translation of Sulza.) Towards evening went farther into the mountains, and moored in a little creek. The succeeding day we also got on slowly. On the tops of the crags to the eastward, we perceived some black slaves, straying about like goats, who had probably escaped from Tamaniât, and will not long preserve their poor lives. They disappeared immediately on our _khawass_ making the rude jest of firing into the air in their direction. I and Abeken climbed the western hills, which rose steeply from the shore to the height of two or three hundred feet. It is plainly to be seen on the rocks how high the river rises at high water, and deposits its earth. I measured thence to the present water-mirror, about eight _mètres_, and the river will yet sink a couple of feet.

From the mountain top we could see behind the last heights the wide desert which we should soon have to traverse towards Méraui. Reluctantly we quitted the picturesque mountains which had interrupted the generally even aspect of the country in so pleasant a manner.

On the morning of the 4th of April we at last reached our palm group at Ben Naga, and proceeded at once to the ruins in Wadi el Kirbegân, where we found part of a pillar and several altars in the south-western temple, newly excavated by Erbkam, upon which the same royal cartouches appeared as on those principal temples of Naga, in the wilderness. Of the three altars the middle one, hewn in very hard sandstone, was excellently preserved. On the west side the King, on the east side the Queen, were represented, with their names; on the two other sides two goddesses. There was also, on the north side, the hieroglyphic of the north engraven; and on the south side, that of the south. The two other altars showed the same representations. All three were seen in their places, and let into a smooth pavement, formed of square slabs of stone, with plaster poured over them. The means were unfortunately wanting at present for the transportation of the best of these altars, which weighed at least fifty hundred weight; I was, therefore, obliged to leave it for a particular expedition from Meroë.

On Good Friday, the 5th of April, we arrived at Shendi. We went into the spacious but very depopulated city; saw the ruins of the residence of King Nimr, in which, after a banquet he had prepared for Ismael Pasha, he had burnt him. Many houses yet bear the traces of the shots of Defterdar Bey, whom Mohammed Ali sent to avenge the death of his son. In the middle of the city stood on an artificial height the private dwelling of King Nimr, now also in ruins. Somewhat up the river, distinct from the town, lies the suburb built expressly for the military garrison. We then returned to the bark, which had moored close by the fortress-like house of Churshid Pasha, where the Commandant now resides.

The same day we reached Beg’erauîe, shortly before sundown, and immediately rode to the pyramids, where we found Erbkam and the rest all well. At Naga and Wadi Sofra they were very industrious, and the rich costume of the Kings and Gods, and the generally styleless, but ornamented representations of this Ethiopian temple look very well in the drawing, and will form a shining part of our picture-book. Here, too, much had been done, and on the cleaning out of the earth-filled ante-chambers several new things were discovered. Abeken thought he had discovered the name of Queen Kentaki (Kandake) on our first visit. It now appears that the cartouche is not written but which would be read Kentahebi;[81] it seems to me, however, that the famous name is nevertheless meant, and the questionable sign has been interchanged by the ignorant scribes. The determinative signs [Illustraton: symbols] prove, in any case, that it is the name of a queen. Kandake was already known as a private name. The name Ergamenes is also found, and this, too, now properly written, sometimes with a misunderstood variant.

On the following holidays, we lighted our Easter fire in the evening. Our tents lie between two groups of pyramids in a little valley, which is everywhere overgrown with dry tufts of woody grass. These were set on fire, flamed up, and threw the whirling flames up into the dark star night. It was a pretty sight to see fifty or sixty such fires burning at once, and throwing a spectral light on the surrounding ruined pyramids of the ancient kings, and on our airy tent-pyramids rising in the foreground.

On the eighth of April, we were surprised by a stately cavalcade on horses and camels, which entered our camp. It was Osman Bey, who is now leading the army of 5,000 men back from Taka. In his company were the French military physician Peney, and the High Sheikh Ahmed Welled ’Auad. The troops had encamped near Gabushîe, at an hour’s distance up the river, and would pass through Begerauîe in the evening. The visit to our camp had, however, another end; which came to light in the course of conversation. Osman Bey was desirous of making his pioneers into treasure finders, and sent some companies hither to tear down the pyramids. The discovery of Ferlini is in everybody’s head still, and had brought many a pyramid to ruin. In Chartûm everybody was full of it; and more than one European, and the Pasha also, thought still to find treasures there. I endeavoured to convince them all anew that the discovery of Ferlini was the result of pure chance, that he did not find the gold rings in the tombs, the only place where such a search could be made with any reason, but in the rock, where they had been placed by the caprice of the owner. I tried to convince Osman Bey by the same arguments, who offered me his men for the purpose of commencing operations under my superintendence. Of course I refused, but should perhaps have taken advantage of the opportunity to open the tomb-chambers, the entrance of which would be _before_ the pyramids in the natural rock, had I not been afraid that I should arrive at no particularly shining result, and only disappoint the expectations of the credulous general, though not our own. I succeeded in diverting him from the idea; and for the present at least, the yet existing pyramids are saved. The soldiers have left us without making war against the pyramids.

I invited the three gentlemen to dinner with us, at which the old Sheikh got into a mess, as he always wanted to cut the meat with the back of his knife, until I myself laid aside the European instrument, and began to eat in good old Turkish style, when all soon followed me willingly, particularly my brave dark-skinned guest, who well saw my civility. After dinner, they mounted their stately horses again, and hurried to the river.

On the 9th of April, I sent Franke and Ibrahim Aga to Ben Naga, with stone-saws, hammers, and ropes, to bring the great altar hither. I myself rode with Jussuf to Gabushié, partly to return the visit of Osman Bey--whose intention had been to give a day of rest in our neighbourhood--partly to take advantage of the presence of the respected Sheikh Ahmed, through whom I hoped to obtain barks for the transportation of our things across the river, and camels for our desert journey. The army had, however, already proceeded, and had passed the next places. I therefore rode sharply on with Jussuf, and soon came up with the 400 Arnauts, forming the rear guard. They could not, however, inform us how far Osman Bey was in advance. The Arnauts are the most feared of all the military; as the rudest and most cruel of all, who are at the same time the best used by their leaders, as they are the only volunteers and foreign mercenaries. Some months ago, they were sent by Mahommed Ali, under a peculiarly dreaded officer, to the deceased Ahmed Pasha, with the command, as it was worded, to bring the Pasha alive or dead to Cairo. His sudden death, however, naturally put a period to their errand. That officer is named Omar Aga, but is well-known throughout the country under the less flattering _sobriquet_ of Tomas Aga (_commandant cochon_), once bestowed on him by Ibrahim Pasha, and which he has since considered it an honour to bear! His own servants so called him, when we came up with his horses and baggage, and asked for their owner.

After a sharp ride of five or six hours, under a most oppressive sun, we at length reached the camp near the village of Bêida.

We had gradually gone more than half-way to Shendi, and were rejoiced to find a prospect of refreshment after the hot exhausting ride, as we prepared ourselves to remain fasting until our return in the evening, for there was nothing to be got in the intermediate villages, not even milk.

Osman Bey and Hakîm Peney were as astonished as delighted at my visit; there were immediately handed round some goblets of Suri, a drink of difficult and slow preparation from half-fermented durra, having a pleasant acid taste, and a particularly refreshing restoring flavour with sugar. After breakfast I went through the camp with Peney, the tents of which were pitched in the most various and picturesque manner on a great place, partly overgrown and wholly surrounded with trees and bushes. An Egyptian army, half black, half white, torn and tattered, returning from a thieving incursion against the poor natives, is rather a different sight to anything that comes under our notice at home. Although the terrified inhabitants of Taka, mostly innocent of the partial revolt, had already sent ambassadors to the Pasha, in order to obviate his vengeance, and did not make the slightest resistance on the nearer approach of the troops, yet several hundred defenceless men and women who would not, or could not fly, were murdered by that notorious crew of ruffians, the Arnauts; an additional number of persons, supposed to have been concerned in the rebellion, Ahmed Pasha had beheaded in front of his tent, as they were brought in. After all the conditions had been fulfilled, after the heaviest mulcts demanded of them, under every possible name, had been punctually paid, the Pasha had all the Sheikhs assembled as if for a new trial, and together with 120 more, led away in chains as prisoners. The young powerful men were condemned to the army, the women were given up to the soldiers as slaves. The Sheikhs had yet to await their punishment.

This was the glorious history of the Turkish campaign against Taka, as it was related to me by European witnesses. Twelve of the forty-one Sheikhs, who seemed as if they would not survive the fatigue of the forced march, have already been shot. The rest were shown to me. Each wore before him a club or bludgeon five or six feet in length, which ended in a fork, into which his neck was fastened. The ends of the fork were connected by a cross piece fastened by thongs. Some of them, too, had their hands tied to the handle of the fork. In this condition they continue day and night. During the march, the soldier under whose care the prisoner is placed, carries the club, and at night the greater part of them have their feet bound together. Their raven tresses were all cut off, and only the Sheikhs still retained their great plaited headdress. Most of them looked very depressed and pitiful; they had been the most respected of their tribe, and accustomed to the greatest reverence from their inferiors. Almost all of them spoke Arabic besides their own language, and told me the tribes to which they belonged. The most respected, however, of them all, was a Fakir, of holy repute, whose word was considered that of a prophet throughout the whole country. He had, by his words and demands, brought on the whole revolution. He was called Sheikh Musa el Fakir, and was of the race of Mitkenâb, and his personal appearance was that of an aged, blind, broken elder, with a few snow-white hairs; his body is now more like a skeleton, he had to be raised up by others, and was scarcely able to comprehend and answer the questions addressed to him. His little shrivelled countenance could not, under any circumstances, assume a new expression. He stared before him, fixedly and carelessly, and I wondered how such a scarecrow could have so much power over his countrymen as to cause the revolution. But it is to be remarked, that here, as in Egypt, all blind people stand in peculiar odour of sanctity, and in great repute as prophets.

After breakfast I had one of the Sheikhs, Mohammed Welled Hammed, brought into Osman’s tent, in order to ask him about his language, of which I knew nothing. He was a sensible eloquent man, who also employed the opportunity, which I readily granted him, to tell his history to Osman Bey and Sheikh Ahmed, and to declare his innocence with respect to the revolutionary movements. He was of the tribe of Halenka, of the village Kassala. I had the list of the forty-one Sheikhs and their tribes given me and copied. Six tribes had taken part in the revolt, the Mitkenâb, Halenka, Kelûli Mohammedîn, Sobeh, Sikulâb, and Hadenduwa (plural of Henduwa).

All the tribes of Taka speak the same language, but only some also understand the Arabic. I presume that it is the same as that of the Bishari races. It has many words well put together, and is very euphonious, as the hard gutterals of the Arabic are wanting. On the other hand, however, it has a peculiar letter, which seems to stand between _r_, _l_, and _d_, according to its sound, a cerebral _d_, which, like that of the Sanskrit, is pronounced with the tongue thrown upwardly back.

The examination of the Sheikh had lasted too long to allow of a return; night would have surprised me, when it would have been impossible, especially on camel-back, to avoid the dangerous branches of the prickly trees. I therefore was content to accept the invitation to remain in the camp until moonrise; then Osman Bey was going to start in the other direction with his army. A whole sheep was roasted on the spit, which we heartily enjoyed.

From Osman Bey, who has lived sixteen years in the south, and is intimately acquainted with the land to the outermost limits of the government of Mohammed Ali, I learnt many interesting particulars of the southern provinces. In Fazoql the custom of hanging up a king who is no longer liked, is still continued, and was done upon the person of the father of a king now reigning. His relations and ministers assembled about him, and informed him that as he did not please the men and women of the country, nor the oxen, asses, hens, &c. &c. any longer, but every one hated him, it would be better for him to die. When a king once would not submit to this treatment, his own wife and mother came to him, and made him the most urgent representations, not to load himself with more ignominy, on which he met his fate. Diodorus tells just the same story of those in Ethiopia who were to die by the condemnation of the judge, and a condemned person, who intended first to save himself by flight, yet allowed himself to be strangled by his mother, who frustrated his escape, without opposition. Osman Bey first put an end to the custom in the same province, of burying old people alive, who had grown weak. A pit was dug, and at the bottom of it a horizontal passage; the body was laid in it, tightly wrapped in cloths, like that of a dead person; beside him a saucer, with merissa, fermented durra water, a pipe, and a hoe for the cultivation of land; also one or two ounces of gold, according to the riches of the person, intended for the payment of the boatman who rows him over the great river, which flows between heaven and hell. Then the entrance is filled up. Indeed, according to Osman, the whole legend of Charon, even with a Cerberus, exists there.

This usage of burying old people alive is also found, as I have subsequently heard, among the negro races of south Kordofan. There sick people, and particularly those with an infectious disease, are put to death in the same manner. The family complains to the invalid, that on account of him no one will come to them; that after all, he is miserable, and death only a gain for him; in the other world he would find his relations, and would be well and happy. Every one gives him greetings to the dead, and then they bury him as in Fazoql, or standing upright in a shaft. Besides merissa, bread, hoe and pipe, he there also receives a sword and a pair of sandals; for the dead lead a similar life beyond the grave, only with greater pleasures.

The departed are interred amidst loud lamentations, in which their deeds and good qualities are celebrated. Nothing is known there of a river and boatman of the under world, but the old Mohammedan legend is there current, of the invisible angel Asrael, or as he is here called, Osraîn. He, it is said, is commissioned by God to receive the souls of the dead, and lead the good to the place of reward, the bad to the place of punishment. He lives in a tree, el ségerat mohàna (the tree of fulfilling), which has as many leaves as there are inhabitants in the world. On each leaf is a name, and when a child is born a new one grows. If any one become ill, his leaf fades, and should he be destined to die, Osraîn breaks it off.[82] Formerly he used to come visibly to those whom he was going to carry away, and thus put them in great terror. Since the Prophet’s time, however, he has been invisible; for when he came to fetch Mohammed’s soul, he told him that it was not good that by his visible appearance he should frighten mankind. They might then easily die of terror, before praying; for he himself, although a courageous and spirited man, was somewhat perturbed at his appearance. Therefore the Prophet begged Allah to make Osraîn invisible, which prayer was granted.

Of other tribes in Fazoql, Osman Bey told me, that with them the king should hold a court of justice every day under a certain tree. If he be absent three days by illness or any other reason that makes him unfit to attend to it, he is hanged: two razors are put in the noose, which cut his throat on the rope being tightened.

The meaning of another of their customs is obscure. At a certain time of the year they have a kind of carnival, at which every one does as he likes. Four ministers then carry the king from his house to an open place on an anqareb, to one leg of which a dog is tied. The whole population assemble from every quarter. Then they throw spears and stones at the dog till it dies, after which, the king is carried back to his house.

Over these and other stories and particulars regarding those races, which were also certified by the old High Sheikh Ahmed, we finished the roasted sheep in the open air, before the tent. Night had long commenced, and the camp fires near and far, with the people busy around them, sitting still or walking to and fro among the trees, was immensely picturesque and peculiar. Gradually they went out, all except the watch fires; the poor prisoners were bound more tightly, and it grew quieter in the camp.

Osman Bey is a powerful, merry, and natural man, also a strict and esteemed officer. He promised me a specimen of the discipline and good order among his soldiers,--whose outward appearance would not inspire any very favourable prejudice,--in having the reveillé beaten at an unprepared time. I slept with a military cloak about me on an anqareb in the open tent. About three o’clock I awoke, through a slight noise; Osman, who lay beside me on the ground, rose and gave the order to beat the reveillé to the nearest drummer of the principal guard. He struck some broken and quickly silent notes on his drum. These were immediately repeated at the post of the next regiment, then at the third, fourth, fifth, and succeeding encampments; and suddenly the whole mass of 5,000 men were under arms. A soft whispering and hissing of the soldiers waking each other, and the slight crackling sound caused by the muskets, was all that could be heard. I went through the camp with Dr. Peney, who came out of the neighbouring tent, and we found there the whole army in rank and file under arms, the officers going up and down in front. When we returned and told Osman Bey of the surprising punctuality in carrying out his commands, he allowed the soldiers to disperse again, and first gave the signal for departure at four o’clock. This had a very different effect. Everything was in activity and motion; the camels raised their screaming voices and pitiful bleatings during the loading, the tents were taken down, and in less than half an hour the army marched off to the sound of fife and drum to the south.

I took my way in the contrary direction. The early morning and bright moonlight was very refreshing; the birds woke up with the grey dawn; a fresh wind arose, and we trotted lustily along through the alleys of prickly sont-trees. Soon after sunrise we met a stately procession of well-dressed men and servants with camels and donkeys. It was King Mahmûd Welled Shauish, whose father, the warlike Shauish, King of Shaiqie, is known from the history of the conquering campaigns of Ismael Pasha, to whom he succumbed at a late period, and at whose house at Hellet e’ Solimân, near Messelemieh, we had stayed some weeks before. He had gone with Ahmed Pasha Menekle to Taka, and followed the army to Halfaï, where he now resides. At half-past nine, we again came to the pyramids, after my camel, yet young and very difficult to manage, had galloped round in a circle with me, and finally stumbling over a high mound of grass, fell down on one knee, and sent me far away over his head, fortunately without doing me any damage.

After my return I employed myself continually on the pyramids and their inscriptions, had several chambers excavated, and drew out a careful description of each pyramid. Altogether I had found nearly thirty different names of Ethiopian kings and queens. I have not as yet brought them into any chronological order, but have in the comparison of the inscriptions learned much on the kind of succession and the form of government. The King of Meroë[83] (which is written Meru or Merua in one of the southernmost pyramids) was at the same time High Priest of Ammon: if his wife outlived him she followed him in the government, and the male heir of the crown only occupied a second place by her; under other circumstances, it seems, the son succeeded to the crown, having already, during his father’s lifetime, borne the royal cartouche and title, and held the post of second priest of Ammon. Thus we see here the priest government of which Diodorus and Strabo speak, and the precedence of the worship of Ammon already mentioned by Herodotus.

The inscriptions on the pyramids show that at the time of their erection the hieroglyphic system of writing was no longer perfectly understood, and that the hieroglyphical signs were often put there for ornament, without any intended meaning. Even the royal names are rendered doubtful by this, and this prevented my recognizing for a long time the pyramids of the three royal personages who had built the principal temples in Naga, Ben Naga and in Wadi Temêd, and belonged, no doubt, to the most shining period of the Meroitic Empire. I am now sure, that the pyramid, with antechamber arched in the Roman style, in the wall of which Ferlini found the treasure concealed, notwithstanding the slight change in the name, belonged to the same mighty and warlike queen who appears in Naga with her rich dress and her nails almost an inch long. Ferlini’s jewellery, by the circumstance that they belonged to a known, and, it seems to me, the greatest of all Meroitic queens, who built almost all the preserved temples of the island, acquired a far greater importance for the history of the Ethiopian art in which they now take a certain position. The purchase of that remarkable treasure is a considerable gain for our Museum. At that time an Ethiopian demotic character, resembling the Egyptian demotic in its letters, although with a very limited alphabet of twenty-five to thirty signs, was more generally employed and understood than the hieroglyphics. The writing is read from right to left as there, but always with a distinct division of the words by two strong points. I have already found twenty-six such demotic inscriptions, some on steles and libatory slabs, some in the antechambers of the pyramids over the figures in the processions (which are generally proceeding towards the deceased king with palm-branches), some outside on the smooth surfaces of the pyramids, and always plainly of the same date as the representations, and not added at a subsequent period. The decipherment of this writing will perhaps not be difficult on a narrower examination, and would then give us the first certain sounds of the Ethiopian language spoken here at that time, and decide its relation to the Egyptian; while the almost perfect identity of the Ethiopian and Egyptian hieroglyphics would till now give decidedly no sanction to any conclusion as to a similar identity between the two languages. On the contrary, it seems, and may be safely asserted for the later Meroitic period, that the Egyptian hieroglyphics were taken from Egypt as the sacred monumental writing, without change, but also without a full comprehension of their signification. The few continually recurring signs prove that the Ethiopian-demotic writing is purely alphabetic, which must very much lighten the labour of decipherment. The partition of the words is perhaps taken from the Roman writing. The analogy with the development of writing in Egypt, however, proceeded still farther; for next to this Ethiopian-demotic there occurs at a later period, an Ethiopian-Greek, which may be fairly compared with the Koptic, and indeed has borrowed several letters from it. It is found in the inscriptions of Soba and in some others on the walls of the temple ruins of Wadi e’ Sofra. We have now therefore, as in Egypt, two doubtless successive systems of writing, which contain the actual Ethiopian popular dialect. It is customary now to call the old Abyssinian-Geez language the Ethiopic, which has no right to this denomination in an ethnographical point of view, as a Semetic language brought from Arabia, but only as a local term. A Geez inscription, which I have found in the chamber of a pyramid, has evidently been added at a later period.

I hope that by the study of the native inscriptions, and the yet living languages, some important results may be obtained. The name Ethiopian with the ancients comprehended much of very various import. The ancient population of the whole Nile valley to Chartûm, and perhaps along the Blue River, as also the tribes in the desert east of the Nile, and the Abyssinians, then probably were more broadly distinguished from the negroes than at present, and belonged to the Caucasian race; the Ethiopians of Meroë (according to Herodotus, the mother state of all the Ethiopians) were reddish-brown people, like the Egyptians, only darker, as at the present day. This is also proved by the monuments, on which I have more than once found the red skin of the kings and queens preserved.[84] In Egypt the women were always painted yellow, particularly during the Old Empire, before the Ethiopian mixture, at the time of the Hyksos; and the Egyptian women of the present day, who have grown pale in the harems, incline to the same colour.[85] After the eighteenth dynasty, however, red women appear, and so it is certain the Ethiopian women were always represented. It seems that the so-called Barâbra nation has much Ethiopian blood mixed with it, and perhaps this may be more fully shown at some time by their language.[86] It is no doubt the ancient Nubian, and has continued under that name in somewhat distant south-westerly regions; for the languages of the Nubians in and about Kordofan are, to some extent, evidently related to the Berber language. That this last, which is now only spoken from Assuan to Dar Shaiqîeh, south of Dongola, in the Nile valley, ruled for a time in the province of Berber, and still higher up, I have found enough proof in the names of the localities.

Next to the ruins of Meroë are situated, along the river, from south to north, the villages of Marûga, Danqêleh and e’ Sûr, which are comprehended in the name Begerauîeh, so that one almost always only hears the last name. Five minutes to the north of e’ Sûr, lies the village of Qala, and ten minutes farther, el Guês, which are both included in the name Ghabîne. An hour down the stream are two villages, called Marûga, already deserted before the conquest of the country, but a little distant from each other, and still more northward, near the Omarâb mountains, running to the river from the east, is a third village, called Gebel (Mount village), only inhabited by Fukara. Cailliaud was only acquainted with the southernmost of the three Marûgas, lying by the great temple ruins. The name attracted his attention by its similarity to Meroë. The similarity is still greater when one knows that the actual name is Maru, as--_ga_ is only the general noun termination, which is added or omitted according to the grammar, and does not belong to the root. In the dialect of Kenus and Dongola this ending is--_gi_; in the dialect of Mahass and Sukkôt--_ga_. When I went through the different names of the upper countries with one of our Berber servants, I learned that _maro_, or _marôgi_, in the one dialect, _maru_, or _marûga_, in the other, signifies “ruined mound, ruined temple;” thus are the ruins of ancient Syene, or those of the island Philæ, called Marôgi. Quite different from it is another Berber word, Mérua, which is also pronounced Méraui, by which all white rocks, white stones, are distinguished; for instance, a rock near Assuan, on the east side of the Nile, by the village of el Gezîret. By this it is clear that the name Marûga has nothing to do with the name Meroë, as it is not usual to call a city “Ruin-town,” immediately on its foundation. On the other hand, the name Merua, Méraui (in English “white rock”), would be a very good name for a city, if the position of the place were favourable, as it is at Mount Barkal, although not here.