Bamy
5th July 2005, 08:26 PM
this is the first chapter in a story i am writing for my niece as a christmas present. I would greatly appreciate feedback of any kind in order to make it as good as possible.
Peter and the Camel Amulet.
Chapter 1
It was very hot, and Peter was bored. Very bored. He hated Egypt at the moment though it had been fun up until a few hours ago. There was nothing to do here and it was hotter than anything he had ever known. He couldn’t speak the language so he couldn’t make friends with any local lads. Not that there were many lads to play with out here in the middle of the desert.
The guide, Mahamoud had a teenaged son called Omar, who was the only person even close to Peter’s age and he considered himself too old to play with a ‘bratty, European kid’ that he was only looking after because he was being paid to. He thought that is father was having all of the fun showing the boy’s parents around the ruins of the old camel temple as the place was locally known.
Omar thought it an odd name for a temple as camels tended towards spitting, kicking, being thoroughly disagreeable and as well as being very uncomfortable to ride. But as far back as his grandfather’s grandfather could remember the place had been called that. The boy’s parents had obviously known that Peter would have nothing to do while they were doing whatever they were here to do, and that he would have been an annoying, whining, complaining, generally sulky and miserable brat.
Peter wasn’t actually like this he was just bored and a little lonely though he was normally a cheerful, friendly studious lad who loved adventure stories and playing football. Unfortunately for him he had finished the last book he had brought with him and had no football with which to play, and anyway it was too hot now to do anything much but sit and brood in the shade and the sand wouldn’t have helped, a ball wouldn’t have bounced or rolled much anyway.
At first this trip into the desert had been a real adventure for Peter and for the first few hours of the early morning that were relatively cool, he had explored the small oasis that they were in, imagining himself to be Lawrence of Arabia or Ali Baba or any one of a host of desert adventurers that he had read about since he had discovered that he would be going on holiday to Egypt with his parents. After a few hours though, the sun had made it too hot for exploration and he had sat in the shade reading his book about the pharaohs of Egypt, occasionally taking a gulp of slightly warm water. But he had finished the book now, and hadn’t thought of bringing another from their hotel rooms.
Peter sat there remembering when his parents had told him that they were going into the desert, they had warned him…
…It had been teatime and though it was a blazing hot July afternoon outside, in the hotel the efficient air conditioning kept it feeling cool, well less hot anyway. Mum and dad had been eating some of the local dishes, the names of which he could not pronounce, while he ate fish and chips. They had eaten in silence, as they savoured the flavours of the food that they were evidently enjoying, commenting occasionally on the flavour of this or that dish while peter hungrily wolfed down his own meal. He had gotten a massive appetite from scrambling around some of the ruins that mum and dad had come to look at, it had been fun, imagining himself as a treasure thief or an archaeologist like mum and dad in turn.
“Did you enjoy that darling?” asked mum,
“Yes mum, it was ok, though the fish tasted odd, and it had a reddish colour to it, the chips were great though, just how I like ‘em” he replied
“They don’t have cod or haddock here Peter, they would have used a local fish, probably caught from the Nile this morning. Apparently the hotel gets all of it’s food fresh from the local area,” she said, answering his unasked question and addressing the last bit to dad who replied with the comment “That’s why I booked the place”
“Peter,” she continued, ignoring dad and the tone of her voice alerted Peter that she was about to say something serious, he hoped it was not that they were going home early, he was enjoying himself too much. “Daddy and I are going into the desert tonight to see some ruins. They are quite a way out, so we will be away all day tomorrow and most of the next. We would like you to stay with Professor Perna, who works in the Cairo museum while we are away. You would get to explore the museum then, I know that you didn’t get see all that you wanted to when we visited but we didn’t have time, we are here to work after all and only went to see the professor about some information we needed. You will have two days to explore if you stay with her and you will get to have a look round Cairo too.” She added to sweeten the idea.
Both parents knew that he would want to come with them on one of his ‘adventures’, but thought that he would be in the way and too hot in the desert so wanted him to have some fun during his summer holiday rather than trailing around the ruins they had to look at for their work. Peter had other ideas. Not only would getting out into the desert over night be his greatest adventure yet, he didn’t like the kindly professor because she had the most bossy daughter imaginable, so he set about persuading them to take him along.
“Aw, mum, can’t I come with you?” he begged
“We would rather you stayed with the professor, darling,” said mum “ and anyway, the ruins we are visiting are very fragile, you wouldn’t be able to scramble over them like you did today, you would have to stay at the nearby oasis while we work, it would be very, very hot, hotter than in Cairo, and there is no air conditioning out in the desert, and little to do.”
“I wouldn’t mind!” he pleaded” I’ll sit in the shade reading or swim in the oasis if there is enough water, and it would be so cool to sleep in the desert over night,”
“it is not just that peter,” dad added, “we only have one guide and he may not allow children to come to be left alone in the camp anyway, if you got into trouble or got ill, there would be no-one to help you.”
“This isn’t a holiday for us you know darling,” mum added “we are here to work”
“ precisely, you would be getting in the way out there whereas if you stayed with the professor you could explore the museum – didn’t you wanted to see the Tutankamun exhibit while you are here didn’t you? and the professor plans to take you to a bazaar and to see some of Cairo’s sights, like the old quarter and the pyramids. You would have much more fun, and she has a daughter your age…”
“I don’t like her daughter, mum. She is really bossy and horrible. I really want to come; it’ll be an adventure! Pleeeeeease can I come?” he begged, turning his puppy dog look on his parents.
His mum and dad saw that they could not persuade him to stay with the professor so they agreed.
“Oh all right, if you really, really want to come you can. But we will be starting out late tonight and you might not get much sleep – it is going to be a bumpy, noisy ride in the truck, and you will have to stay in the camp all day while we work” said dad as he repeated his warning.
“Great dad! I will behave, I will stay in camp,” He grinned broadly, “this is going to be my best holiday ever!”
So he had been dragged out of his bed sometime during that night in the pitch dark and had spent some of the journey to the oasis imagining what it had been like for the camel traders, Tuareg and other inhabitants of the desert when they travelled… but he fell asleep after a while despite the bumpy ride and noisy truck. He had awoken at the campsite and was disgusted with himself for missing the sunrise which mum and dad had been going on about as having been ‘amazing’. Once the tents (he had been thrilled to learn that they were traditional desert dwelling trader tents) had been set up and the supplies stored, they had left with the guide, Mahamoud.
Mahamoud was a really nice man who had not minded having an extra along on the trip, even if it was a kid. He had actually let Peter ride one of the camels that they had brought up a few days before, and even let him help water, feed and brush them. It had caused the men great amusement to see the boy brushing the camels, as he was not tall enough to reach their sides. Mahamoud had taken pity on the lad who appeared to be having the time of his life (much to his parent’s relief) and taught him the basic instructions on controlling the camels – he could now get them to stand, lie down, turn left or right to go forward and backwards and to go faster. When the camp had been finished, the adults had left on the camels to look at an Ancient Egyptian temple of some sort.
Peter now found it all very dull; there was nothing but a few trees and bushes. He couldn’t even go for a swim; the oasis was just a small spring seeping warm water into a small pool and it was surrounded by lots and lots and lots of sand.
All he could do was either sit in a smelly tent, in the poor shade the trees few trees surrounding the pool gave or wander around the area and end up all hot, sandy and sunburned. Peter chose to wander around, kicking at the small bushes and sand hillocks absently scratching at the sunburn on his neck muttering to himself as he did so.
“Stupid sandy desert,” kick “I hate Egypt,” kick “…Nothing to do…. no friends…. no footie…. AND I’ve missed that match between Liverpool and Man City.” He scowled and looked down at his shoe. It was full of sand. He sat down and pulled off his trainers. When he tipped them upside down the sand streamed out making a small sandy pyramid. He put his shoes back on wishing with all of his might that there was someone he could play with to end the boredom.
He tightly laced his trainers back up and stood up again, again wishing for someone to talk to, anyone to talk to. There was a strong gust of wind that felt hot on his sweat-beaded face. As he turned into the breeze to head back to camp a glint caught in the corner of his eye. He turned to get a closer look. Squinting through his sunglasses, he saw what looked like a small metal object poking out of the sand, glinting merrily in the fierce sunlight. The wind must have un-covered it, blowing the sand off it, he decided and, since there was nothing better to do, decided to see what it was.
His imagination began working as he approached… it was a lost piece of treasure silver perhaps or a ceremonial dagger…no maybe it was an amulet of some kind that was used by the pharaohs when they had come to worship here thousands of years ago. When he finally got close enough he saw that the object that had glinted was a small, flattened oval shaped lump of brownish-green metal with some carvings on it. Interested, Peter picked it up. Surprisingly it was cool in his hand as opposed to the blazing heat that surrounded the oasis and beat down on Peter’s head, he had forgotten his hat and the sun was burning his scalp through his thin brown hair. He picked up the metal lump to examine it.
Treasure! He had found real treasure! Briefly he thought of showing his parents, but seeing as is was not silver or gold decided not to, not realising that bronze, for that was what the metal was would also have been an astonishing find to his parents. He couldn’t believe it, real treasure! His enthusiasm for the trip returned despite the heat, his boredom gone as he closely examined the metal amulet, which is what he determined it to be. Turning it over, in his hand he could see the carved inscriptions were on the surface on both sides and also went all the way around the flattened edge.
In the centre on both sides there was a beautiful carved image of a camel. He remembered that his parents had called Egyptian writing Hi-row-gliff-icks and that some symbols that looked like strange pictures of things. This was what he was seeing so he knew the metal must be old and his imagination went into overdrive imagining who had lost it, when and why. It was thirst that brought him back to reality, he was getting hotter now, and had not thought to bring a bottle of water with him. He slipped the metal object into the pockets in his shorts and started to tramp back to the camp to get a drink and sit in the shade. He did not notice the tingling feeling the object gave him when he let go of it.
Peter and the Camel Amulet.
Chapter 1
It was very hot, and Peter was bored. Very bored. He hated Egypt at the moment though it had been fun up until a few hours ago. There was nothing to do here and it was hotter than anything he had ever known. He couldn’t speak the language so he couldn’t make friends with any local lads. Not that there were many lads to play with out here in the middle of the desert.
The guide, Mahamoud had a teenaged son called Omar, who was the only person even close to Peter’s age and he considered himself too old to play with a ‘bratty, European kid’ that he was only looking after because he was being paid to. He thought that is father was having all of the fun showing the boy’s parents around the ruins of the old camel temple as the place was locally known.
Omar thought it an odd name for a temple as camels tended towards spitting, kicking, being thoroughly disagreeable and as well as being very uncomfortable to ride. But as far back as his grandfather’s grandfather could remember the place had been called that. The boy’s parents had obviously known that Peter would have nothing to do while they were doing whatever they were here to do, and that he would have been an annoying, whining, complaining, generally sulky and miserable brat.
Peter wasn’t actually like this he was just bored and a little lonely though he was normally a cheerful, friendly studious lad who loved adventure stories and playing football. Unfortunately for him he had finished the last book he had brought with him and had no football with which to play, and anyway it was too hot now to do anything much but sit and brood in the shade and the sand wouldn’t have helped, a ball wouldn’t have bounced or rolled much anyway.
At first this trip into the desert had been a real adventure for Peter and for the first few hours of the early morning that were relatively cool, he had explored the small oasis that they were in, imagining himself to be Lawrence of Arabia or Ali Baba or any one of a host of desert adventurers that he had read about since he had discovered that he would be going on holiday to Egypt with his parents. After a few hours though, the sun had made it too hot for exploration and he had sat in the shade reading his book about the pharaohs of Egypt, occasionally taking a gulp of slightly warm water. But he had finished the book now, and hadn’t thought of bringing another from their hotel rooms.
Peter sat there remembering when his parents had told him that they were going into the desert, they had warned him…
…It had been teatime and though it was a blazing hot July afternoon outside, in the hotel the efficient air conditioning kept it feeling cool, well less hot anyway. Mum and dad had been eating some of the local dishes, the names of which he could not pronounce, while he ate fish and chips. They had eaten in silence, as they savoured the flavours of the food that they were evidently enjoying, commenting occasionally on the flavour of this or that dish while peter hungrily wolfed down his own meal. He had gotten a massive appetite from scrambling around some of the ruins that mum and dad had come to look at, it had been fun, imagining himself as a treasure thief or an archaeologist like mum and dad in turn.
“Did you enjoy that darling?” asked mum,
“Yes mum, it was ok, though the fish tasted odd, and it had a reddish colour to it, the chips were great though, just how I like ‘em” he replied
“They don’t have cod or haddock here Peter, they would have used a local fish, probably caught from the Nile this morning. Apparently the hotel gets all of it’s food fresh from the local area,” she said, answering his unasked question and addressing the last bit to dad who replied with the comment “That’s why I booked the place”
“Peter,” she continued, ignoring dad and the tone of her voice alerted Peter that she was about to say something serious, he hoped it was not that they were going home early, he was enjoying himself too much. “Daddy and I are going into the desert tonight to see some ruins. They are quite a way out, so we will be away all day tomorrow and most of the next. We would like you to stay with Professor Perna, who works in the Cairo museum while we are away. You would get to explore the museum then, I know that you didn’t get see all that you wanted to when we visited but we didn’t have time, we are here to work after all and only went to see the professor about some information we needed. You will have two days to explore if you stay with her and you will get to have a look round Cairo too.” She added to sweeten the idea.
Both parents knew that he would want to come with them on one of his ‘adventures’, but thought that he would be in the way and too hot in the desert so wanted him to have some fun during his summer holiday rather than trailing around the ruins they had to look at for their work. Peter had other ideas. Not only would getting out into the desert over night be his greatest adventure yet, he didn’t like the kindly professor because she had the most bossy daughter imaginable, so he set about persuading them to take him along.
“Aw, mum, can’t I come with you?” he begged
“We would rather you stayed with the professor, darling,” said mum “ and anyway, the ruins we are visiting are very fragile, you wouldn’t be able to scramble over them like you did today, you would have to stay at the nearby oasis while we work, it would be very, very hot, hotter than in Cairo, and there is no air conditioning out in the desert, and little to do.”
“I wouldn’t mind!” he pleaded” I’ll sit in the shade reading or swim in the oasis if there is enough water, and it would be so cool to sleep in the desert over night,”
“it is not just that peter,” dad added, “we only have one guide and he may not allow children to come to be left alone in the camp anyway, if you got into trouble or got ill, there would be no-one to help you.”
“This isn’t a holiday for us you know darling,” mum added “we are here to work”
“ precisely, you would be getting in the way out there whereas if you stayed with the professor you could explore the museum – didn’t you wanted to see the Tutankamun exhibit while you are here didn’t you? and the professor plans to take you to a bazaar and to see some of Cairo’s sights, like the old quarter and the pyramids. You would have much more fun, and she has a daughter your age…”
“I don’t like her daughter, mum. She is really bossy and horrible. I really want to come; it’ll be an adventure! Pleeeeeease can I come?” he begged, turning his puppy dog look on his parents.
His mum and dad saw that they could not persuade him to stay with the professor so they agreed.
“Oh all right, if you really, really want to come you can. But we will be starting out late tonight and you might not get much sleep – it is going to be a bumpy, noisy ride in the truck, and you will have to stay in the camp all day while we work” said dad as he repeated his warning.
“Great dad! I will behave, I will stay in camp,” He grinned broadly, “this is going to be my best holiday ever!”
So he had been dragged out of his bed sometime during that night in the pitch dark and had spent some of the journey to the oasis imagining what it had been like for the camel traders, Tuareg and other inhabitants of the desert when they travelled… but he fell asleep after a while despite the bumpy ride and noisy truck. He had awoken at the campsite and was disgusted with himself for missing the sunrise which mum and dad had been going on about as having been ‘amazing’. Once the tents (he had been thrilled to learn that they were traditional desert dwelling trader tents) had been set up and the supplies stored, they had left with the guide, Mahamoud.
Mahamoud was a really nice man who had not minded having an extra along on the trip, even if it was a kid. He had actually let Peter ride one of the camels that they had brought up a few days before, and even let him help water, feed and brush them. It had caused the men great amusement to see the boy brushing the camels, as he was not tall enough to reach their sides. Mahamoud had taken pity on the lad who appeared to be having the time of his life (much to his parent’s relief) and taught him the basic instructions on controlling the camels – he could now get them to stand, lie down, turn left or right to go forward and backwards and to go faster. When the camp had been finished, the adults had left on the camels to look at an Ancient Egyptian temple of some sort.
Peter now found it all very dull; there was nothing but a few trees and bushes. He couldn’t even go for a swim; the oasis was just a small spring seeping warm water into a small pool and it was surrounded by lots and lots and lots of sand.
All he could do was either sit in a smelly tent, in the poor shade the trees few trees surrounding the pool gave or wander around the area and end up all hot, sandy and sunburned. Peter chose to wander around, kicking at the small bushes and sand hillocks absently scratching at the sunburn on his neck muttering to himself as he did so.
“Stupid sandy desert,” kick “I hate Egypt,” kick “…Nothing to do…. no friends…. no footie…. AND I’ve missed that match between Liverpool and Man City.” He scowled and looked down at his shoe. It was full of sand. He sat down and pulled off his trainers. When he tipped them upside down the sand streamed out making a small sandy pyramid. He put his shoes back on wishing with all of his might that there was someone he could play with to end the boredom.
He tightly laced his trainers back up and stood up again, again wishing for someone to talk to, anyone to talk to. There was a strong gust of wind that felt hot on his sweat-beaded face. As he turned into the breeze to head back to camp a glint caught in the corner of his eye. He turned to get a closer look. Squinting through his sunglasses, he saw what looked like a small metal object poking out of the sand, glinting merrily in the fierce sunlight. The wind must have un-covered it, blowing the sand off it, he decided and, since there was nothing better to do, decided to see what it was.
His imagination began working as he approached… it was a lost piece of treasure silver perhaps or a ceremonial dagger…no maybe it was an amulet of some kind that was used by the pharaohs when they had come to worship here thousands of years ago. When he finally got close enough he saw that the object that had glinted was a small, flattened oval shaped lump of brownish-green metal with some carvings on it. Interested, Peter picked it up. Surprisingly it was cool in his hand as opposed to the blazing heat that surrounded the oasis and beat down on Peter’s head, he had forgotten his hat and the sun was burning his scalp through his thin brown hair. He picked up the metal lump to examine it.
Treasure! He had found real treasure! Briefly he thought of showing his parents, but seeing as is was not silver or gold decided not to, not realising that bronze, for that was what the metal was would also have been an astonishing find to his parents. He couldn’t believe it, real treasure! His enthusiasm for the trip returned despite the heat, his boredom gone as he closely examined the metal amulet, which is what he determined it to be. Turning it over, in his hand he could see the carved inscriptions were on the surface on both sides and also went all the way around the flattened edge.
In the centre on both sides there was a beautiful carved image of a camel. He remembered that his parents had called Egyptian writing Hi-row-gliff-icks and that some symbols that looked like strange pictures of things. This was what he was seeing so he knew the metal must be old and his imagination went into overdrive imagining who had lost it, when and why. It was thirst that brought him back to reality, he was getting hotter now, and had not thought to bring a bottle of water with him. He slipped the metal object into the pockets in his shorts and started to tramp back to the camp to get a drink and sit in the shade. He did not notice the tingling feeling the object gave him when he let go of it.