The Libyan hilltops were,
at that instant, illuminated by the sun, and Kenkenes, in obedience to
lifelong training, rested his oars and bent his head. When he pulled
on again he did not realize that he had been, with the stubbornness of
habit, maintaining the breach between him and Rachel. There was no
thought in his mind to give over his faith.
At noon, weary with heat, hunger and heavy labor, he drew up at
Hak-heb, on the western side of the Nile, fifty miles above Memphis.
The town was the commercial center for the pastoral districts of the
posterior Arsinoeite nome--Nehapehu. Here were brought for shipment
the wine, wheat and cattle of the fertile pocket in the Libyan desert.
Being at a season of commercial inactivity, when the farmers were
awaiting the harvest, the sunburnt wharves were almost deserted.
Few saw Kenkenes arrive. Most of the inhabitants were taking the
midday rest, and every moored boat was manned by a sleeping crew. He
made a landing and went up through the sand and dust of the hot street
to the only inn. Here he ate and slept till night had come again.
Refreshed and invigorated, he continued his journey. At noon the next
day he stopped to sleep at another town and to buy a lamp, materials
for making fire, ropes and a plummet of bronze sufficiently heavy to
anchor his boat.
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