Sherlock Holmes and the Mummy's Curse Read Online Free PDF Page A

deliciously cool and damp off the water, and the canvas over the launch provides welcome shade against that deucedly hot Egyptian sun! Whenever I am here, I have no doubt why the pharaohs worshipped the sun, for surely the sun controls everything hereabouts!”
    “Ha! Excellent point, old man! Listen, do you suppose the captain would mind if I smoked?”
    “I shouldn’t think so, but perhaps you ought to ask him first.”
    “Er, I rather ascertained, while we were boarding, that he only spoke Arabic.”
    Holmes hesitated, then spun and sat on the railing bench beside Watson.
    “Old chap, are you requesting of me to ask him FOR you?”
    “You’re the fluent linguist in this region, not I.” Watson shrugged.
    “Watson…” Holmes paused, mentally debating his phrasing. “It has not escaped my attention that you seem to feel… inadequate, in this environment, especially as regards my experience in it. Perhaps this is the way to start…?” Watson let out a soft, rueful chuckle, then leaned toward his friend, dropping his voice.
    “Not in this case, Holmes, I fear. Partly for that very reason, I tried to make chit-chat with the captain back at the quay, to no avail. There is a… an accent, a dialect, or the like, which I am simply not grasping, which our good captain seems to have. I might manage to make myself understood, but I swiftly realised I was unlikely to understand HIM. I’ve no idea if it is a regional dialect, a speech impediment, or what, but despite my best efforts I cannot understand the man for the life of me.” He met Holmes’ concerned grey gaze. “I hadn’t the problem at the hostelry, so it seems to be only the captain. I swear to you, Holmes, I will try—but for now…” He shrugged again, then nodded at the stern, where the captain steered the launch. “It had best come from—and to—you.”
    “Very well, then. One moment.” Holmes turned and called back to the launch’s captain. “ Aleqbetan, qed sedyeqy aledkhan lh alanabeyb? ” 19
    “ Webteby’eh alhal, ya sedyeqy ,” 20 came the cheerful reply. “ ’Ela alefhem adenah, bheyth tekwen amenh. Welken aqewl lh an ahedr aletmaseyh! La ted' lh tefqed lh anebweb aletbegh! ” 21
    “ Neqth memtazh, ya sedyeqy! ” 22
    The captain and Holmes both laughed, and Watson frowned, disappointed. Holmes turned to his friend.
    “Wipe that scowl from your face, Watson. It’s quite all right. Go ahead and smoke, as you like. And I may well join you. But whatever you do, don’t lose your pipe overboard. In fact, I recommend a cigarette; I have some already rolled, if you prefer. Or perhaps a cigar from our baggage.”
    “But why?”
    Holmes merely pointed to the riverbank with a long, slim finger. Watson turned to look.
    “I see nothing but some deadwood and logs washed up,” he noted with a shrug.
    “Look closer. Those are not logs. They are crocodiles. There will also be cobras.”
    “CROC—! Ah, well then. Of course. Do you have your cigarette case about you?”
    * * *
    The launch travelled swifter, even upstream, than a camel; the terrain changed fairly rapidly from the relatively open desert full of sand dunes and more distant mountains near Qina, to low encroaching sandstone mountains, thence to higher, more rugged cliffs and mountains, closer in, as they neared—and passed—Luxor. Watson happily gazed out at the spectacular temple ruins as they glided past, and Holmes considerately fetched the field glasses from their baggage so that he might get a closer view.
    Some two hours before sundown, they arrived at the landing, still well downstream of the First Cataract, though they had yet a considerable traverse west of the Nile to the actual dig site.
    “Mr. Holmes?” a young, red-headed man, appearing to be in his very early twenties and with a pronounced Liverpool accent, called to them as they clambered up the gangplank to the quay. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”
    “Here!” Holmes replied, holding up a hand. “And this is