We left before it got dark. Sut, my Egyptian guide, suggested hat we leave early, then camp in the desert, near the tomb of Osiris. After the workers set up camp, I had dinner, and we talked late, I couldn't sleep. If Osiris is in the tomb, as Sut claimed, then he wasn't resurrected and didn't rise to heaven, as legend said, but got to Heaven like the rest of us (that hope to get there).
My anticipation kept me awake all night. I finally sat outside in a chair to watch the morning sun rise. Dune shadows, at first, were long and mysterious, then shortened as the sun rose I thought of the phrase “.... the lonely sands stretched far across the desert.” How far? The Sahara stretched across the African continent.
It is cold before the rising sun's heat penetrates. By 9 AM, one looks for ways to get out of the heat. But it's a short ride to the entrance of the tomb. Virtually invisible, it is an opening in the desert floor, filled by sand. The workers had to shovel long and hard before a stone archway was visible, then shoveled more until it was open. Then I could leave my shaded chair and enter the tomb.
Ancient Egyptians must have been really short! I am not tall, but at 5' 9”, had to bend over in the tomb entry hall Thank God the tomb room itself had what looked like a seven foot ceiling. Not high, but at least I didn't have to bend over.
The 15' by 15' room was lined with stone. Even vermin like rats and mice avoided this forsaken landscape. There were no droppings. Only the dust of centuries was on the floor and on the lone sarcophagus sitting in the middle of the room. That was significant all by itself. Atop the lid of the sarcophagus was the sculpture of a cat. In the same reclining position as the famed sphinx, it was finished to much more detail, even though it was only the size of the sarcophagus lid. You could practically count the hairs.
I breathed quicker thinking that Osiris might be entombed here, and gazed around the room for artifacts worth collecting, hoping to find something that identified the occupant. Sut was by my side, saying nothing. There were no artifacts. Had he raped them before showing a westerner the tomb?
Never mind. I admired the cat sculpture and noticed a plaque across its chest that was marked with hieroglyphic symbols. I made out the code for Osiris. This was It! This was Osiris' tomb!.I inspected the likeness of the cat. It's ear tips to the tips of the bushy whiskers on each side of it face formed a perfect square. The cat's black nose in the middle of this square made a quincunx.
I couldn't resist, and reached out to touch that perfect nose. That was a mistake. Perhaps it was a chemical I had on my hand. Perhaps it was the decay of centuries, but the sculpture started crumbling. First the nose where I had touched it, then backward until the entire sculpture was a mound of sand and dust that spilled off the sarcophagus and onto the floor.
Opening the sarcophagus disclosed a mummy with no distinguishing identification. I found Osiris' tomb but had no proof. I was so excited I forgot to take a picture. Now I might never be famous.
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