By some happy perverseness (occasioned
perhaps by my disgust at the notion of being received with a pair
of
Tongs) I took it into my pleasant head that all the European
notions about contagion were thoroughly unfounded; that the plague
might be providential or "epidemic" (as they phrase it), but was
not contagious; and that I could not be killed by the touch of a
woman's sleeve, nor yet by her blessed breath. I therefore
determined that the plague should not alter my habits and
amusements in any one respect. Though I came to this resolve from
impulse, I think that I took the course which was in effect the
most prudent, for the cheerfulness of spirits which I was thus
enabled to retain discouraged the yellow-winged angel, and
prevented him from taking a shot at me. I, however, so far
respected the opinion of the Europeans, that I avoided touching
when I could do so without privation or inconvenience. This
endeavour furnished me with a sort of amusement as I passed through
the streets. The usual mode of moving from place to place in the
city of Cairo is upon donkeys, of which great numbers are always in
readiness, with donkey-boys attached. I had two who constantly
(until one of them died of the plague) waited at my door upon the
chance of being wanted. I found this way of moving about
exceedingly pleasant, and never attempted any other. I had only to
mount my beast, and tell my donkey-boy the point for which I was
bound, and instantly I began to glide on at a capital pace. The
streets of Cairo are not paved in any way, but strewed with a dry
sandy soil, so deadening to sound, that the footfall of my donkey
could scarcely be heard. There is no trottoir, and as you ride
through the streets you mingle with the people on foot. Those who
are in your way, upon being warned by the shouts of the donkey-boy,
move very slightly aside, so as to leave you a narrow lane, through
which you pass at a gallop. In this way you glide on delightfully
in the very midst of crowds, without being inconvenienced or
stopped for a moment. It seems to you that it is not the donkey
but the donkey-boy who wafts you on with his shouts through
pleasant groups, and air that feels thick with the fragrance of
burial spice. "Eh! Sheik, Eh! Bint, - reggalek, - "shumalek, &c.
&c. - O old man, O virgin, get out of the way on the right - O
virgin, O old man, get out of the way on the left - this Englishman
comes, he comes, he comes!" The narrow alley which these shouts
cleared for my passage made it possible, though difficult, to go on
for a long way without touching a single person, and my endeavours
to avoid such contact were a sort of game for me in my loneliness,
which was not without interest.
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