Seeing a Large Cat
said.
    Emerson burst out laughing and took my arm.
    The path we followed curved across the surface of the plateau, skirting the southwestern end of the deep canyon, or wadi, in which the kings of the empire were buried. There are two Valleys of the Kings, but me eastern valley contains the greater number of royal tombs, and it is the one tourists and guidebooks refer to when they speak of it without a qualifying adjective. From above, the Valley resembles a complex leaf like that of an oak or maple, with branches extending in all directions. The cliffs that enclose it are almost vertical; even the nimble-footed Egyptians cannot scale them except in a few areas where paths as ancient as the tombs themselves descend in sinuous curves into the Valley.
    The young people were waiting for us at the top of one such path, and we paused to admire the view. Some individuals might have found it stark and forbidding; no flow of water to refresh the eye, no tree nor flower nor blade of grass. Groups of tourists, foreshortened into limbless lumps from above, moved lethargically along the Valley floor. Most had already left for the East Bank and the comfort of their hotels, but there were enough of them to inspire a mutter of "Cursed tourists!" from Emerson.
    "Where are we going first?" Nefret asked.
    Hands on his hips, Emerson surveyed the scene. I suspected he was up to something, and my suspicions were confirmed when he said casually, "Carter is still working at the Hatshepsut tomb, isn't he?"
    "So he said at dinner the other evening," Ramses replied. "The passage appears to be endless; he had dug down almost two hundred meters last season, with no end in sight. He hopes to reach the burial chamber this month, but I doubt he will; the fill is almost as hard as cement. The men were using pickaxes, and the heat was intense."
    I did not ask how he knew. He might have got the information from Howard, but it was more likely he had been into the confounded place himself. I had neglected to forbid him to do so since it had not occurred to me that he might.
    "Suppose we have a look," Emerson said. "The tomb is so remote and undistinguished that none of the cursed tourists will be there."
    He was the first to begin the descent, but Nefret was close on his heels. Ramses had learned through painful experience that Nefret would haughtily reject any offer of assistance from him, so he let her go on and offered me his hand. I did not need it, but I took it anyhow.
    "What is the number of Hatshepsut's tomb?" I asked.
    "Twenty."
    "Aha," I exclaimed. "I knew it! Your father is not interested in Hatshepsut's tomb; he is looking for tomb Twenty-A, which must be in the same area. Good Gad, Ramses, watch what you are doing."
    His foot must have slipped. He caught himself at once and steadied me with a hand almost as hard as that of his father. "I beg your pardon, Mother. You took me by surprise. I thought you knew. There is no such tomb."
    "What? But the tombs are numbered."
    "Yes, in numerical sequence. Mr. Wilkinson, later Sir Gardiner, numbered the tombs known to him eighty years ago; the last of his were numbers Twenty and Twenty-one. M. Lefebure added to the list-"
    "Ramses," I said, trying not to grind my teeth. "Please get to the point."
    "I am endeavoring to do so, Mother. Er-to summarize, then. Other tombs have been located and numbered since, in the order of their discovery. I believe the latest one is Forty-five, found last year by Mr. Carter. There are no A's or B's or other sub-categories."
    I dug in my heels. "Stop a moment. Are you telling me there is no tomb with the number Twenty-A?"
    "No, Mother. Er-yes, Mother, that is what I am telling you. I assumed you and Father had discussed the matter. He is certainly aware of the fact."
    "Is he indeed?" I pondered the underhanded behavior of Emerson. Had he deliberately refrained from setting me straight so that I could dig myself even deeper into the pit of ignorance? Well! Thanks to Ramses I could

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