Birds of the Nile Read Online Free PDF Page A

management had foreseen, and to amuse the passengers during their unavoidable wait they’d engaged a pair of whirling dervishes to perform. Beneath the street lights at the edge of the car park, their coloured costumesflared like a rainbow.
    It was while he was studying their technique that he became conscious of a second altercation which had just broken out behind him. The luggage compartments of the bus had been swung open and various sets of suitcases had been pulled out onto the car park. Nearby, a middle-aged woman dressed in a cream-coloured top and matching slacks, a Westerner, was becoming agitated as two of the local porters began badgering her for money.
    “Baksheesh! Baksheesh!” they were crying. They had doubtless provided some small service for her and were demanding what they thought was their due.
    It would have been unfair to say she was dripping with jewellery, but there were at least two rings on each hand and it was evident she was not short of a few bob. But even if she’d been plain and unadorned, to Egyptians such as these the mere fact that she could afford to ride in a bus was proof enough that she was wealthy. Although just at the moment, she looked far from in control of affairs as her ringed hands fluttered about her head as if she were trying to shoo away a wasp.
    “Go away! Imshi! Imshi!”
    It sounded like the one word she’d made sure she’d learned from the phrasebook before setting off in order to protect herself – now she was being called upon to use it at the first time of asking. If she’d studied her guide a little more thoroughly, a better choice might have been ‘la, shukran’ (no, thank you) which, although meaningless in the current context, might have been a little more calming. Instead of allowing the porters to get on with their job, she’d made the mistake of becoming involved. Perhaps her luggage was not being treated with the care she thought it deserved – or perhaps she’d simply made some chance remark. Whatever the reason, she’d put herself under pressure and it had induced an inappropriate reaction. What she failed to realise was that she need only give her besiegers a few smallcoppers and the matter could easily be settled.
    Blake fingered the coins in his own pocket, kept there for that very purpose. In Egypt someone invariably wanted tipping. There was always a door to be opened, a bag to be carried, a way to be pointed, some small service to be performed – it was part of the custom of the country. And to help the lady out, all he had to do…
    But it was not in his nature to interfere and his hand stayed firmly in his pocket. He had long since convinced himself that he was not responsible for the problems of others – people should be left to resolve their own affairs. Such matters could take their course without him. It was not that he was a mean man, either with money or in spirit, but it was rather a question of belief. And like so much else in his life, it stemmed from his love of birds.
    Birds were a part of nature – and nature was a force to be reckoned with. You altered nature at your peril and it seemed to Blake that every attempt to do so had met with disaster. The loss of rainforests, the melting of polar ice-caps, global warming – they were all the large-scale results of human tinkering. On a personal level, he took the view that birds were to be observed and enjoyed but most importantly, they should be left in peace to get on with their lives. However they’d arrived on earth, be it through the hand of God or through the natural process of evolution, they were not intended to be played with like toys. And as with birds, so with man – or in this case, woman.
    As it happened, there was no need for him to become involved. The thought of assisting her had barely crossed his mind when a third party intervened and came to the lady’s rescue. A small crowd of onlookers had gathered round the door of the bus. One of them, an Egyptian,