Emily and the Lost City of Urgup

by Gerry Hotchkiss

  “When may I wear them?” Emily asked. “Any time at all,” answered the professor’s wife. “Anytime, even to go to the Museum?” Emily went on. “Why, of course, I would not want a guest of mine walking around Cairo looking like a street urchin.” If truth be told, the Professor’s wife had three sons and no daughters. She was more than delighted to have the opportunity to play mother and dress Emily.

  The following day, Professor Dasam escorted Emily to the pride of Cairo, its great Museum, the finest collection of Egyptian history in the world. As Emily approached she saw a huge building with three arched windows on either side of an imposing entrance. Shadowed by palm trees was an extended doorway with an entrance several stories high. Inside she bought a guide book and began reading. “Emily,” said Professor Dasam, “ you would take years to see and understand what is in this Museum. We have just one week and I shall be your guide book.-

  Emily learned that Egypt had once been two separate countries, Upper Egypt and Lower Egypt,. It was unified some 5,000 years ago. She saw the slate palette of King Narmer, the oldest in history. Rooms were filled with statues, chariots, jewelry, stone carvings of birds and animals. She was taken to the most impressive sight she had ever seen. The tomb of Tutankhamen, just recently discovered.

  Four gilded shrines, one inside another. Inside the smallest was a sarcophagus with three coffins, the innermost made of 222 pounds of gold. The final resting place of Tutankhamen, an Egyptian pharaoh thirty-three hundred years ago.

  In the days that followed, she saw mummy masks and statues of rulers and their retinue, the soldiers and scribes, the working people and writings from each period of history. Writings on parchment, on clay, on stone.

  Her favorite statue was of Ramesses II as a child. “He became the ruler of Egypt for over thirty years,” said Professor Dasam. “During those years, the height of Egyptian power, he built many monuments including the famous sandstone temples at Abu Simbel. Many believe he was the pharaoh during the exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt,” he went on.

  Ramesses II didn’t look like a child. Behind him stood an enormous falcon. “That is the god, Hurun,” said Professor Dasam. “He was a Canaanite god depicted here in the form of a falcon. The disc above the child is Ra, the sun. Mes stands for child as it is written here, stands for the plants he is holding in his hand.” Emily had heard of Canaan in her Bible, but she never thought of early gods being shown as animals or birds. Hurun looked very protective of Ramesses.

  “Falconry is a very ancient tradition in Arabia,” Professor Dasam noted. “These birds are raptors, a type of hawk that is trained to obey his handler and fly at his command. Only the female falcon is used. She will soar above other smaller birds and animals to kill them for the food she needs for her family or for the handler’s family. It may seem cruel to you, Emily, but the falcon strikes so quickly there is no pain and the food is always put to good use.”

  It was time to return to the Lost City. Kadar and Hadar reported to the Professors that the thieves had been freed from jail before they could intercept them. “They may try and return to the Lost City,” Hadar advised. “Then your job is to watch over Emily at all costs,” said Dasam. “You shall be my Hurun,” Emily added to the surprise of Hadar and Kadar and delight of Professor Dasam.

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  We Have a Plan

  IT HAD BEEN several weeks since the thieves had lodged at the Old Oasis Inn at the outskirts of Cairo. The Innkeeper was demanding payment for the rooms. Smiley Wiley told his buddies, “we’ve got to get some money right away.” “How, boss?” asked Nutts. ““We’ll sell our jalopy and steal that big roadster the professor came in.” “But the driver is always there polishing the brass hub cap and lights,” added Rutts. “We’ll distract him,” said Smiley.

  Smiley put on his best English cricket clothes; white trousers, white sneakers and a white shirt with the cuffs rolled up above the elbows just as he had seen the upper class public school boys wear them for this English sport. He approached the driver. ““I say old chap, could you spare a few minutes to help me?” he asked in his best attempt at an upper class diction, “I seem to have misplaced my engine crank.” The driver was very obliging. He took the crank from the roadster and followed Smiley beyond a building nearby. As he turned the corner of the building, Butts struck him a blow on the head with a large stone and he fell down unconscious. The thieves took the crank and his cap and sped back to the roadster and drove off to pay the Innkeeper.

  “Why pay the innkeeper?” asked Butts.

  “You may need a hiding place again, so never cheat another cheat,” answered Smiley. When they had paid their bill at the Inn, the four thieves took off for the Lost City in their new roadster. “What a breeze,” said Rutts. “Oh for the life of an English gent,” said Butts. “Can I sit up front with you?” asked Nutts to Smiley who was driving. “No, Nutthead, can’t you see I’m wearing the drivers cap so’s people will think you’re swells,” answered Smiley.

  When the luggage for the professors, Emily and her guards was brought where the roadster had been parked, there was nothing there. Where was the roadster and where was the driver. They heard a low moan nearby and upon inspection they found the driver lying next to a nearby building. He slowly sat up and then lay down again. “Look,” said Emily, “there’s a big lump the size of an orange on the side of his head.”

  “Easy, easy,” said Professor Witherspoon as they helped the driver to his feet. Hadar and Kadar carried him back to Professor Dasam’s house, where Apera made him tea. When he recovered he told them about the cricket player needing some help. “I’ll bet it was a thief in disguise,” said Emily. “If it was, I think we’ll find them driving to the Lost City, said Witherspoon. “Then we’ll catch them in my Rolls Royce, let’s go,” said Dasam. They put their luggage in the trunk, together with three extra Gerry cans of petrol as they called gasoline. Professor Dasam drove off, letting the driver recover in a back seat.

  Halfway to the Lost City, the stolen roadster began sputtering and then stopped right in the middle of the road. “It’s empty, you fools,” said Smiley, “we should have checked the fuel gauge.” They climbed out of the roadster and pushed it to the side of the road.

  Half an hour later a truck was seen approaching. “Nutts,” said Smiley, “flag him down.” Nutts stood in the middle of the road waving a soiled handkerchief. The truck seemed not to notice as it barreled down the road straight at Nutts, who stood his ground as he had been told. At the last second the truck lurched to the left side of the road and screeched to a stop. An angry Arab got down, screaming at Nutts. Smiley and Rutts and Butts tackled the Arab and tied him up to the roadster with cords from his own clothes. Then they got in the truck and drove off.

  Hours later the professors, Emily, her guards and the driver came upon the roadster sitting at the side of the road. An Arab was squatting, tied up next to its front bumper. Dasam spoke to him and got a hasty description of the four thieves and the Arab’s truck. They untied him and put him in the Rolls Royce. The driver filled the roadster with gasoline from two of the Gerry cans and he and Witherspoon got in and followed the Rolls Royce towards the Lost City.

  It was late at night when they arrived. The full moon shone on the gate posts and nearby they spotted an empty truck. “Allah, Allah,” cried the Arab who ran to his truck and began inspecting it inside and outside. He was agitated when he spoke to Professor Dasam. “The poor man has had all his belongings, his money and his tools stolen,” explained Dasam. “I shall reimburse him since it is really our concern that has caused all of this.” He gave the man a large sum of money which seemed to please the Arab who embraced Dasam and bowed several times before returning to his truck.

  The Rolls Royce and roadster drove through the gates into the Lost City. Several workers were dispatched to keep a close eye on the two cars. Tents were set up but the travelers were too tired to
eat. They all washed and went to bed for a well deserved sleep.

  A bright sun awoke Emily early. She dressed quickly and went to inspect how much work had been done to unearth the palace. “Emily,” a stern voice called out, “have you already forgotten something?” She turned to see Professor Witherspoon outside of his tent still in his pajamas. “Where are Hadar and Kadar, your guards?” he asked. With that Emily spied the two men hastily arranging their garments while they were running towards her. “I’m very sorry, please excuse me,” Emily blurted out. “From, now on, if you wish to stay here, you must be sure Hadar and Kadar are nearby,” admonished the professor.

  That day Emily turned around every few minutes to be sure the guards were nearby. It took away some of the excitement she felt. Kadar approached her with a very large smile. “Little one,” he said, “you needn’t look for us all the time. Just when you get up. Once you have seen us, we’ll stay close by without spoiling your day seeking us.” “Thank you, Kadar,” she answered.

  Two thirds of the palace was now unearthed. It was not unlike others she had seen pictures of in the Museum in Cairo. The upper stories had friezes, stone pictures, of men and women in various activities, sewing, riding chariots, writing on tablets, standing guard, surrounding the palace’s walls. She turned to see the professors approaching. “I can’t wait to go inside the palace,” she said to them. “Nor can we,” they answered. “However, we have something else on our minds.”

  “We have talked to Hadar and Kadar, and we all agree we are not just going to wait and react to whatever evil plans those thieves cook up. We are going to act, to catch them before they try something sinister. And we have a plan.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  Five Years in the Boiler Room

  “EMILY HAD A glimpse of the thieves,” said Professor Witherspoon, “but the Arab saw them clearly. He even could point out the boss. Let us enlist his aid to describe the thieves.” Professor Dasam and the guards approached the Arab who was working on the engine of his truck. They explained their plan and he seemed more than willing to help them. The whole group met in the shade outside Professor Witherspoon’s tent. With Dasam translating, each thief was described, including Smiley Wiley the leader, who had a fat round face. “We should be able to identify him,” said Emily, “and the one who is totally bald. He is the man who tied me up.”

  “Now Emily, you are not part of our plan, so please leave us to get on with it,” Witherspoon stated. All the men continued to discuss the plan while Emily only overheard glimpses: “night”, “disguise”, “suborn,” “a perfect sting.” What did it all mean?

  After dinner she went immediately to her tent and, through a small opening, watched as Hadar, Kadar and the Arab retired to Professor Witherspoon’s tent. Were they plotting the plan? “It may be tonight,” she thought. She put a kerchief over her face and a light cotton coat with a hood covering her body and crept outside barefooted. Soon the men were seen leaving the professor’s tent. All were dressed as Arabs and Emily could not even make out which was Professor Witherspoon. They ambled towards the worker’s tents. Passing tent after tent, suddenly the lead man stopped and they all stepped back a few paces. Two of the men entered the tent.

  Emily’s curiosity was too much. She snuck around the back of the tent and listened to the voices of the men inside. “Who are you?” someone spoke out.

  “Never mind we are who,” a voice answered. “We know you no Arab people. You English people.” “What!”, another voice answered. “Quiet, please, and listen to what we offer. We a plan have. But we need more people. Like you.” “Why us?” asked another voice. “No good you up to. We watch you. Always you follow the rich people who come in Rolls Royce and big roadster. Why do you do that, we ask? Aha, we say. Maybe you steal money or something. We, too, want something. “What do you want?” the first voice inquired. “The parchment paper with the map.”

  Smiley Wiley had heard enough and he stood up. “I don’t know who you Arabs are but we’re not interested in stealing a piece of paper with a map of a place we are already standing on.” “Do you Arab hieroglyphics read?” a voice responded. Smiley and his henchmen shook their heads. “Much much more is on parchment than just map. On top of palace is secret door to pharaoh’s treasure. So secret only parchment can show.”

  The thieves were hooked. “This must be what they mean by a sting,” though Emily. She skirted away from the tent as one of the men leaned against her. “What’s that,” he said. “What’s what?” another asked. “I thought I felt something.” “You felt your imagination.” They plotted to sneak into Professor Dasam’s tent and steal the parchment. The disguised ‘Arabs’ would keep a lookout from outside while the four thieves went inside and ransacked the tent until they found the paper.

  Meanwhile Emily returned to her tent and watched the action from afar. Professor Dasam, Hadar and Kadar and several other men had formed a circle near his tent, all sitting on the ground mumbling words in Arabic. Smiley Wiley looked their way, but saw they were only workers, apparently telling each other stories. The thieves entered the tent and seemed to take hours before they emerged triumphantly with a parchment. “This is not map parchment. Look some more”, they were told. When they went inside a second time they found themselves surrounded by Professor Dasam, Hadar, Kadar, the Arab truck driver and several others. “The jig is up,” announced Professor Dasam as he uncovered his face. “Secure their hands and feet with good square knots and put them in the back of the truck.”

  Emily watched it all from a distance and then went inside her tent. That night she slept soundly. In the morning she bounded out of bed and went outside to visit the palace. “Emily,” a voice called out. “Have you forgotten to await your guards again?” he went on. “But professor, now that the thieves have …,” and she stopped. “Have what?” Professor Witherspoon went on. “Have, have to worry about your plan,” she stammered, “I just thought……”

  “In fact, my dear, the plan has been executed and the thieves are now tied-up and in our custody. Nevertheless, you await your guards.” That was a close call, thought Emily.

  With the thieves caught, the professors decided to return to Cairo, place some artifacts they had uncovered with the Museum and get ready for Professor Witherspoon and Emily to return home. Emily walked around dejected. The sparkle in her eyes were dulled with regret. She loved her new dresses and she wanted to spend weeks at the museum. Professor Witherspoon, on the other hand, seemed much more anxious to return home.

  “Witherspoon,” said Professor Dasam, “your mind seems to be elsewhere. Did something unusual happen on your trip to Egypt? “Unusual, unusual,” Witherspoon replied, “why nothing in particular, why do you ask?” “Well, your beaming face reminds me of a naughty boy found with his hand in the cookie jar,” Dasam went on. Emily perked up. “Will we be seeing Bibi?” she asked.

  “Bibi, who is Bibi. Oh yes, that very attractive tutor you hired to teach Emily French. Do you plan to hire her for the return voyage?” Dasam inquired.

  “As a matter of fact, Madam Boissiere has been engaged to tutor Emily on our return,” Witherspoon answered with his face reddening. Professor Dasam’s eyes lit up. “You old goat. Here you are ten years my senior and in the throes of romance.” Emily looked puzzled, was the professor in love?

  Preparations for the departure were completed in another week. Professor Dasam’s wife had spent most of every day with Emily, at the Museum, at an elegant hairdressers where three women washed and cut her hair and even trimmed her fingernails and toe nails, at the dressmakers where Emily was outfitted with winter clothes, new shoes and a Panama straw hat with a bright yellow ribbon on top. She felt spoiled. How could she thank the Dasam family enough. Maple syrup seemed rather meager in comparison with all the beautiful things Madam Dasam had given her. She looked sad and forlorn.

  “My little kitten,” Madam Dasam said, looking at Emily�
�s composure. “Why the sad look. Have I spoiled you? I hope so. You are my first daughter and now you are leaving me. I cannot dress you any more. I cannot tell women’s secrets to you. Now I must return to rooms full of men and listen to their incessant chatter about business and sports and politics. I shall miss you and I hope that you shall also miss me.” Emily flew into the Madam’s arms and hugged her and cried. “Of course, I shall miss you, Madam Dasam,” she said.

  The Rolls Royce, cleaned and polished was driven to the front of Dasam’s house where farewells were given and Professor Witherspoon and Emily were driven off. This time they drove to Alexandria, a port city of Egypt where a boat awaited to take them to France. “Can I see the remains of the great library when we get there?” asked Emily. “I’m afraid not,” said the Professor. “Alexandria today is a very different city, full of people from all over the Mediterranean, who wish to live in the sun cheaply. For every book now lost there is a bar.”

  The boat from Alexandria was a cargo ship which carried four staterooms for passengers. Madam Bibi was to meet them in Paris.

  Professor Witherspoon and Emily arrived in Paris in early August. They were greeted at the hotel by Madam Bibi, exclaiming, “Ah, mes cheres, relax, for you are with maybe the only French man or woman in Paris. All the rest are tourists.”

  Tourists?” cried Emily.

  “Oui,” said Madam Bibi, “It is August and all Frenchmen go on vacation in August. We have free reign of all the museums and Cathedrals, but you will be hearing English and German and Italian and other languages, rarely French and certainly not Parisian French. If only you had arrived last month on the Quatorze!” “Fourteen?” asked Emily.