106
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
ployed a hundred thousand fellaheen in relays for three
months' to build this monument to his name. As the story
was told me, he even set Hentsen, his daughter, to work—
selling her honor to help pay the expenses. For sentiment's
sake, Hentsen's lovers built her a small pyramid next to that
of her father. With Khalil, I watched the glorious desert sunset, a horizon aflame with gold. Below, to our left, was the
Mena House. Before us was the palace where King Farouk
reportedly held notorious wild parties. To our right were the
ancient ruins of Pharaonic tombs. In the distance, the Sphinx
looked on impassively, its nose blunted by Napoleon's cannon. The panorama of Cairo spread before me. The desert
stretched to the horizon, broken only by an occasional house
or clump of palms. It was truly a majestic and breathtaking
sight, well worth the trouble to reach the top.
But what next? The descent worried rac! Even though
Mother says I was raised on goat's milk, alas, the goat's skill
at mountain-climbing had never been transmitted! The sun
had just touched the rim of the horizon and a chill, shifting,
moody wind, laden with fine sand, swept in from the desert,
eerie in the sudden, silent way it had sprung up. I took it as
an omen.
"Yallah, Khalil," I said. "Let's go. It's getting dark fast!"
"I want you pay me three dollars now," Khalil said, seated
comfortably crosslegged before me.
"That was not our bargain. I pay you when we get down,"
I said firmly.
"I want money now," Khalil said, refusing to budge.
"You go to hell, my Arab friend!"
This caught Khalil by surprise. I had not the slightest idea
how I'd climb down by myself, but I went boldly to the side
up which we had come and took the first step.
"Pay me now half," Khalil suggested, from his sitting position.
"I give you now American cigarettes. I pay you all when we