"King Nakrinsan died within the year," he said, "and they have a new king, Tangidamani. We have not yet sounded out his attitude towards us. If we begin by demanding to send a well-armed party through his kingdom, he will at once suspect a threat. We must approach him gradually and cautiously."
"Well!" said the king. "Four of you have spoken for the Nile; four—not counting Master Rama—for the Strait of Dernê." He turned to me. "Now, my dear Eudoxos, you have heard the arguments both ways. As an unprejudiced outsider and a learned geographer, you can give objective advice. Will you speak?"
Poor Physkon did not know that I, too, had a personal interest to serve. As soon as Rama came in, I recalled the words of Glaukos, the old Kyzikene physician, about the possibility of an Indian cure for my masculine weakness. Then I knew that I had to get to India by fair means or foul. I at once began to muster arguments for the Indian voyage. At this I was so successful that, by the time the king asked my opinion, I had convinced myself that the Indian voyage was the only logical course to follow. [O Theon: For obvious reasons, the foregoing paragraph had better come out. Father.]
"There is much to be said on both sides," I began. "I, too, should like to solve the riddle of the source of the Nile. I must, however, point out that, for adding to human knowledge, India promises more than Africa. India is a vast country, as yet but little known. There are rumors of wonders like dog-headed men and mouthless folk who subsist by smelling the perfume of flowers. Doubtless many of these tales are false, but we shall never know for certain until we send trustworthy people thither to find out.
"Commercially speaking, India is a better choice than Africa. India has a large population of comparatively civilized folk, with great cities and skillful manufactures—"
Hippalos broke in, saying to Rama: "How about it, O Rama? Is it true that in India the roof tiles are of gold and the streets are paved with pearls?"
"You crazy are," replied Rama. "This place here much richer than India is."
"You see, sire?" said Hippalos to the king. "These tales of the fabulous wealth of India are vastly exaggerated."
"Let Master Eudoxos continue without interruption, pray," growled the king. I resumed:
"Even if it be exaggerated, as Master Hippalos says, there is still far more profit in trade with such folk than with a thinly scattered race of bare-arsed savages, such as dwell in Africa beyond Ethiopia. And, they say, beyond India lies the unknown land whence comes our silk. For aught we know, the silk country may be as large and as populous as India; but no Hellene has been there to see.
"As regards the source of the Nile—since we know that the direct route is difficult, what of a suspicious Ethiopian king and boundless swamps—it were perhaps better to approach the region indirectly."
"How do you mean?" asked the king.
"How far have Your Majesty's ships pursued the African coast beyond the Southern Horn?" [* Cape Guardafui.]
"A few leagues [** One league (parasange) = 3.5 miles.] only. They have a six-month, seasonal wind there, like that which Master Rama describes. That is why I am inclined to believe him. But around the Southern Horn, the wind blows north and south instead of northeast and southwest. My captains fear being trapped by the wind from the north, against which they would be unable to beat back around the Horn for months at a time. It is a barren coast, they tell me, inhabited only by a few naked black fisher-folk, without harbors or even roadsteads where one can be sure of food and water."
"Well, with these periodical winds, your men could sail down the coast at the end of the north wind and back on the beginning of the south one. If they explored the rivers that empty there, they might find the one that rises from the same source as the Nile. In the meantime, your trade with India by the direct route would pay for any number of expeditions elsewhere.
"As for the Nile journey," I continued, "I don't deny that it has points in its favor. I do not believe, however, that Your Majesty should count on paying for it by means of any treasure trove. Perhaps the tale was true—but more likely not; you know how people exaggerate. Even if it were, Myron of Miletos may well have won through to the treasure, in which case it is no longer there. Even if he failed, the existence of the hoard was known. So, during the last three centuries, somebody else may have made off with it. And even in the extremely unlikely case of the treasure's being still in place, do you think King Tang-whaf s-his-name would let us bring it back through his kingdom without grabbing it? No, sire, I should not count on finding any such gryphon's eggs at the end of our quest."
Physkon yawned. "Our Majesty thanks you, Master Eudoxos. I think that concludes tonight's discussion. I shall ponder the matter and make my will known in a few days. Good health, all!"
Physkon's servants heaved him up out of his chair and steadied his tottering steps out the door.
Next morning, Hippalos took the whole Kyzikene delegation in wagons to the Canopic Gate at the eastern end of the city. We passed through the barracks of the mercenaries and through the Judaean Quarter. The purpose of this journey was to prepare us for the next day's events. Besides the religious ceremonies and the athletic contests, the king meant to stage one of those monster parades whereby the Ptolemies and the Seleucids amuse and appease their subjects. We were to march in this procession. Several other delegations and groups were there also, as well as contingents from the three Ptolemaic armies and several elephants from the royal menagerie.
Hippalos was in the thick of things, giving orders right and left and answering the frantic questions of scores of paraders. He handled everything smoothly, joking with his questioners when they became upset at delays and contradictory instructions and what they considered dishonorable places in the procession. When it was all over and we were rumbling back, to the palaces, I told him:
"I must say, you seem to have a knack for this sort of thing."
He laughed. "I learnt the trick when I was Superintendent of Festivals for King Nakrinsan of Ethiopia."
"Were those five elephants I saw all the king has? Doesn't he have a regular elephant corps in his army?"
"No, that's all. After the fourth Ptolemy won the battle of Raphia, the elephant catching organization in the Red Sea was allowed to run down. Now we capture only one every five or ten years, to keep a few for parades."
"I wonder that the kings should let so fell a weapon rust from lack of care."
"There are two reasons," said Hippalos. "One is that the weapon isn't really so formidable. Northern barbarians like Celts and Scythians flee from the beasts, but we are not menaced by any such people. And civilized troops quickly learn to rout the elephants with noise, fire, and missiles. In the last century, the elephants have lost more battles than they won, by stampeding back through the troops of their own side."
"And the other reason?"
"As soon as we began to assemble an elephant corps, the Romans would be down upon us with demands that we slaughter the poor beasts, as they did in Syria. Nowadays we all dance to Rome's piping, and those heroes become frantic with fear when any other power has more than a feeble military force. So why beg for trouble for the sake of a nearly worthless weapon? I learnt the limitations of the beasts when I was elephantarch for King Mikipsa of Numidia."
After lunch and a nap, I ran into Agatharchides, sitting in the shade in one of the palace courtyards and making notes with a stylus on a waxen tablet.