I have had my head shaved, and that is why I write. Neht-nefret saw me scratching and examined it. I had lice-she showed me several. Myt-ser'eu says I got them in an inn, but I do not recall an inn. She cut my hair as short as she could, and Neht-nefret oiled it and shaved it with her razor. The two of them made a hundred jokes at my expense and laughed merrily, but I could tell they were dismayed by the scar they found there. They guided my fingers to it.

Neht-nefret and Myt-ser'eu shave each other's heads, Neht-nefret said, and said too that I had seen them do it but that I can remember nothing. That is not quite true, yet true enough to sadden me. They wear wigs.

Between kisses, Myt-ser'eu is sewing a headcloth for me such as the men of her people wear. (I know that this is so because I saw one on the riverbank not long ago.) It is simple sewing, a circle large enough for my head at one end, another a little larger at the other. MY HEADCLOTH IS finished. It protects my shaven head and my neck and ears from the sun. Muslak laughs and says no one will know I am foreign. Neht-nefret insists we do not speak well enough for men of Kemet and teaches us both. We try to speak as she does while Myt-ser'eu giggles. Azibaal and the other sailors say only Muslak is brown enough-I am too red. Both women say brown is better and feign to spurn me. THREE WARSHIPS ARE passing. They have sails but are rowed as well, and so go very fast. There are bearded men of Parsa on them, and men of Kemet too, long-legged soldiers with spears and enormous shields. We would have died very quickly, I think, if they had attacked us. The women say they would be raped, not killed, and Muslak and I would be chained to benches and made to row. I would not be chained. I would rather fight and die than row until death under the whip.

Those ships are nearly out of sight now, but we still hear their drums beating the rowing-rhythm. There is no singing. Free rowers would sing at the oars, or so it seems to me. The whip steals the song.

Muslak says the ships belonged to the satrap, the brother of the Great King. This satrap wants our ship too, though he has many others. Muslak does not know why.

Before I cease to write, I must write that we sail on the Great River of Kemet; it is because of this river that Kemet is also called Riverland, I think. Is it a great nation, as Neht-nefret and Myt-ser'eu insist? I do not see how that can be when it is no more than this green valley. I have climbed the mast to look at it, and it is so narrow here that I could see the desert to my right. The valley land is black wherever it is not green-the contrast with the ocher desert beyond could escape no eye. We passed a distant city-its name is On, says Neht-nefret. Myt-ser'eu wished to stop there so she might look into the shops before its market closes, but Muslak refused, saying we must make Mennufer before dark.

Many canals water the land, but the river does not dwindle because of them. This seems strange.

One bank is near, to our right. The other is so distant now that it can scarcely be seen. We sail here because the current is slower, and because Mennufer is on this side. Ships coming down the river hold the middle of the channel; those sailing up, as we are, the sides. There are many palms, tall, graceful trees whose leaves grow only at the top. They sway and sway in the wind and were surely lovely women not long ago. Some jealous goddess turned them to trees. OUR SHIP IS tied to a pier at Mennufer, but Myt-ser'eu and I share this room and will sleep here. When we docked, Muslak told us he would hurry to the White Wall to tell the satrap we had come. Myt-ser'eu and I said we would see the city. He gave me money for the purpose. I bought Myt-ser'eu a necklace and new sandals, but we still had more than enough to eat at this inn. After eating we returned to the ship; but Muslak was not there, and Neht-nefret said he had not returned. She was angry because he had not taken her to the White Wall-she has never been inside, while Myt-ser'eu has not been to Mennufer before at all. Myt-ser'eu and I returned to the inn and rented this cool and comfortable room, four flights up and next below the roof. Servants brought us water in which to wash and will wash our clothes for us, bringing them in the morning. Our bed is matting stretched on a wooden frame. It seems very poor to me, but Myt-ser'eu says it is better than the one we had at the last inn. I have an oil lamp with a fine, high flame to write by.

The city is noisy and crowded, exciting but tiring, particularly when one goes from shop to shop in the jewelers' quarter. The streets are narrow, and the buildings crowd together like men. The floor on the street is always a shop. There are other things above, and Myt-ser'eu says sometimes these are finer shops for the rich. This inn has a cookshop on the street-it was where we ate-and rooms for rent above. The highest are best and cost most. The walls at the street are very thick, as they must be to support so many levels above them. This keeps the lower levels cool, while the wind and a thick roof cool the upper levels.

Myt-ser'eu wants to buy cosmetics tomorrow. She says that she may only look at them and we may buy nothing, but I am not so young as to believe it. She also says that her own city, called Sais, was the capital of Kemet not long ago. Now the satrap rules from here, and she is glad. She would not wish him and all his foreign soldiers in her city. I am a foreign soldier myself-so I read. Yet Myt-ser'eu left Sais with me. No one can know the heart of a woman. MYT-SER'EU HAS NO new cosmetics, but she is good-natured about it. I tell her we will visit the perfumers' quarter when the satrap has spoken to us. This morning we walked about the saddlers' quarter first. Myt-ser'eu insisted I get a bag in which to carry this scroll and my ink, one that would protect them. We found such a bag and bought it after much haggling. We were about to enter the perfumers' quarter when Neht-nefret dashed up. We were to meet Muslak at the gate of the White Wall at once. He had a dozen sailors searching for us too, she said, but only she was wise enough to guess where Myt-ser'eu would take me.

We rented donkeys and rode to the gate of the White Wall, on red land some distance from the city. The donkey boys are to wait for us there. Muslak and Azibaal soon joined us, and we were admitted by the guards. Muslak has a firman.

Before I describe this fortress I should say that only the center of the city we left is noisy and crowded. Beyond it are many houses of two and three floors, fine and large, with walled gardens and more gardens on their roofs. Away from the shops, the streets are wide, traversed by carts and chariots. It would be very pleasant, I think, to live in one of those houses. There is no city wall. None at all.

Muslak wished us to remain where the soldiers had told us to wait. I was eager to see the fortress and left anyway, promising to return soon. I climbed to the top of the outer wall, walked along it some distance, spoke with the soldiers I met there, and so on. The best quarter of the city lay at my left hand and the fortress at my right. There can be few such views in all the world.

I was slower in returning than I had wished because I became lost, but the rest were waiting still when I returned. Myt-ser'eu had the bag we had bought for my scroll, so when a young scribe passed I asked him for water to wet my pen. (I had found two wells, both very large, but I had nothing to put water in and did not wish to disobey Muslak again.)

He is a priest, and his name is Thotmaktef. He was friendly and gossiped with us. I showed him my scroll and explained that I could not write as the people do here, but only with the tongue with which I think. He brought me a little pot of water, and had me write my name and other things on a scrap of papyrus. The people of Kemet write in three ways,* all of which he showed me, writing his name in all before he left. There is more to say of him, but I wish to think more upon it before I write it.