The Private Diary of Elizabeth Quatermain, vol. II: The Egypt Chronicle

by Lady Norbert

24 September 1899

I am sorry to say that I am not proving to be a very good student of chemistry, at least not thus far. Mina has been patient with me, and I am trying, but it just seems dreadfully complex. Fascinating, certainly, but difficult to master all the same. It doesn't help that she makes it look so easy, being proficient in the field as she is.

She and Henry have, for a time, set aside their efforts to find a cure for Skinner's invisibility. It seems to be proving a task beyond their combined expertise; and even Hawley Griffin -- the one who created the invisibility serum in the first place -- never found a way to reverse the process. As Mina pointed out, however, we don't know whether that was because he was unable to do so, or if he simply never bothered. He was not a good man, from all I have heard of him. Skinner is, or was, a thief, and might not always have been the most honourable of gentlemen, but I have never heard of him harming innocent persons. Griffin, on the other hand, apparently used his invisibility in ways that would have inspired de Gaulle's co-conspirator.

But I will not think of that.

As far as Mina's herbal lessons are proceeding, she is a much quicker study in my subject than I am in hers. The herbalist's craft is not a difficult one to teach, thankfully; mostly it involves helping her learn to identify different plants and remember the properties of each one. (Chemistry is much the same in some respects, but I never have to worry about whether mixing the dried leaves of one plant with the powdered root of another is going to cause an explosion.) Peppermint, for example, is an excellent remedy for upset stomachs, so I am teaching her to harvest and dry the plant for the purpose of making medicinal tea. I expect Mina doesn't experience upset stomachs too often, but I have found a cup of peppermint tea to be quite soothing on many occasions -- especially when I was first on the Nautilus and not at all used to nautical life -- and the others may as well.

We were quite industrious in this endeavour as the hour grew close to tea time. We are both usually quite punctual for meals and the like, so I suppose it was rather noticeable when we did not arrive for tea; in any event, Henry came to fetch us, and I suspect he stood in the open doorway for a few moments before actually making his presence known.

"This is quite the charming picture," he said, when we looked up. He had a rather sweet expression on his face as he watched us. We both had our hair unbound, and on Mina, the femininity was a strong contrast to her somewhat mannish style of dress. Her sleeves were rolled up and her necktie was working its way loose, and I have little doubt that Henry's eyes were entirely upon her, though he was thoughtful enough to include me in the compliment. She rewarded him with a rare smile, which I daresay was all the payment he needed. He drew out his elegant silver pocket watch and played with it nervously while we cleared away our work. Then Mina took his arm, and I followed the pair of them to where the others were already taking their tea.

Nemo tells us that we are directly on course, and can expect to be within sight of Egypt sometime in the next two days. The Nautilus will sail into the Mediterranean Sea, from which we can visit not only Egypt, but also Greece, Italy, and many other places. We probably could have been there by now -- they travelled from Paris to Venice in less than four days when my father was alive -- but as there is no urgency to our trip, the ship is only moving at half speed. I think this is to give us all plenty of time to rest and recover from the events of the past few months, so that we are quite refreshed when we begin our new adventures.

25 September 1899

It is shortly after luncheon, and I am told that we have just entered the waters of the Mediterranean. I am especially grateful that my formal period of mourning for my father has ended, because the climate in these parts is far warmer than in England, and the dark colours would only add to my discomfort. The temperature aboard the ship is quite pleasant, but I expect to be excessively warm in the Egyptian sun.

Speaking of my father, Captain Nemo took me aside after dinner last night and presented me with a key. Of course I already have one key, to my own quarters, but this key is to the rooms Father occupied during his time on the Nautilus. "Naturally, everything of his is now yours," Nemo said, "and you may go into his room at your pleasure. I did not bring this up before, when we had so many other things to worry us, but I believe now you may wish to go through his belongings. If I can be of any assistance, of course, you have only to ask."

I thanked him for, once again, being the soul of courtesy, but I have not yet made use of the key. I am not certain that I am ready.

26 September 1899

We have reached the coast of Egypt, and the upper deck of the submarine is once again above the water. After breakfast we all went up to have a look, and to feel the sun on our faces. The climate is really quite glorious; I imagine that back home, my neighbours are waking up to another rainy English day.

The plan is to leave the Nautilus out here, fully submerged in the deeper waters, after those who are going ashore have done so. The League members, a small contingent of Nemo's men, and I will travel down the Nile on boats, which Nemo plans to rent from local merchants. We are to pack for a ten-day trip down the river and back up; our intentions are to see the Valley of the Kings, the major pyramids, and the Sphinx. Along with the architecture, I am told we can expect to see wildlife in vast numbers, including crocodiles and hippopotami.

Everyone wishes to leave immediately following luncheon, so I must have my trunk packed before then. I shall update this diary once we are on the Nile.

later

It's so very, very hot!

We are, indeed, sailing down the Nile as I write. Nemo has procured two boats for our use, and has divided his attendants between them to act as rowers. The League and I are on the lead vessel, and our supplies and belongings are on the one behind us. Nemo has elected not to hire a guide for this expedition; I think he has grown wary of strangers. He has some maps of the region, and as there are not exactly many wrong turns one can take on the Nile, that should probably be sufficient.

I was wrong when I thought we would be docking in Cairo; Cairo, in fact, is located some way down the Nile from the delta, where the river meets the sea. We disembarked in the ancient city of Alexandria, once home to the world's greatest library. In modern times it is quite bustling and busy.

I very much wanted to visit Alexandria's famous Greco-Roman Museum, as I hear it's highly worthwhile. Unfortunately, the museum is presently closed to visitors; they are in the process of enlarging the display space, and no one may tour during the construction. So while Nemo was conducting his business, making arrangements for our transport, the rest of us amused ourselves by browsing a nearby marketplace. Henry bought a small supply of kohl, and urged Tom and myself to smudge it around our eyes. I was not enthusiastic about this plan, but he explained that the ancient Egyptians used to do this very thing to protect their eyes from the glare of the sun. Skinner, who always wears dark glasses when visible, has no need of the dark substance, but even Mina consented to try it. I have to admit, it does make the brightness less oppressive.

I have my parasol propped open to keep the sun from shining on the pages of this diary, and now and then I am fanning myself with a fan from the market, made from the leaves of some native plant. I think I must look as though I feel unwell, however, because Henry keeps urging me to drink water. I have not forgotten what Africa is like, a lesson I learned on my visits to Father in Kenya, but I am nevertheless struggling against great discomfort. I suppose it will take me a day or two to readjust.

27 September 1899

A day or two, indeed. I am a bit embarrassed to say so, but not long after I concluded that last diary entry, I actually fainted from the heat. Having learned my lesson on my prior visits to this continent, I was dressed not unlike Mina -- a loose-fitting white blouse with the sleeves pushed up, and only one petticoat under my skirt rather than the usual two. Nevertheless, the heat was greater than I remembered. One's memories of less than pleasant things can soften some over time, after all. But I feel much better now, and I just overheard Skinner make some remark about an English rose wilting in the sun. (It's all well and good for him to joke now that I'm well again, but according to Henry, when I toppled over, Skinner was the one who caught me before I hit the deck of the boat.)

As if the heat weren't enough of a difficulty, our proximity to the marshes along the river has exposed us to the threat of mosquitoes -- and with mosquitoes can sometimes come malaria. We must all sleep with our beds completely covered by netting, to protect ourselves from being bitten in the night. During the day, a locally-made insect repellent is useful for discouraging the little monsters. I realize it's all quite necessary, but between the kohl on my eyes and the repellent on my arms, I'm looking forward to a good bath when we return to the submarine.

later

We have witnessed our first Egyptian sunset -- a truly magnificent sight -- and are preparing for bed. We have put ashore some ways north of Cairo, well enough away from the river that we should not be disturbed by crocodiles, though Nemo's men will take turns guarding our camp in the night. For the duration of this expedition, I will be sharing one tent with Mina; Nemo and Henry will share a second tent, and Skinner and Tom a third. After a good night's rest, we shall leave in the morning and head for Giza, home of the Great Pyramid and the Sphinx.

I was surprised to learn, as we took our supper before leaving the boats, that Tom has actually been to Egypt before this. Apparently, he and that Huck friend of his, along with an escaped slave named Jim, made some kind of world tour in a hot air balloon. It was quite unintentional, as he explains it, but they had a marvellous time. The more I know of my American friend, the more surprised I become by how much he has done in his short life -- after all, he's but a few months older than I am, and I have seen almost nothing of the world! He tells us that the Great Pyramid is colossal in scope, and the Sphinx is quite the marvel as well, though alas, the face has decayed so that no one is entirely certain who it was originally intended to resemble.

This country becomes less oppressively hot after the sun sets, for which I'm grateful. Sleep is not long in coming for me.

28 September 1899

What an alarming night that was!

I fell asleep in very short order, glad of the protection of my mosquito netting -- I could hear the wretched things buzzing nearby, perhaps in frustration at being unable to reach me. I am not certain how long I slept, but it was still quite dark when I awoke to hear shouting.

A handful of crocodiles somehow made their way from the river into our camp. The Indian guards were calling to each other as they attempted to deter the beasts with gunshots, but apparently, these were only agitating the crocodiles more. I have heard that a fully grown crocodile is quite capable of polishing off an adult human, and I don't wonder that the guards might have been afraid. In her cot across the tent, Mina too awoke, and we sat, listening to the indecipherable shouts in Hindustani. I heard Nemo's voice calling to his men as he exited his tent. I saw a shadow take shape at the entrance to our tent, and surmised that one of the men was standing guard over us.

Mina, very calmly, threw back her mosquito netting and strode out of the tent. I hesitated, then followed, pulling on a dressing-gown as I did. A few of the crocodiles lay dead; one or two had retreated. They were huge, perhaps eight feet long each, and they snapped at the men with powerful jaws lined with many hideous teeth. Tom stood to my left, holding his Winchester -- he was the one who had moved to stand before our tent flap, and we just stared in a kind of dazed fascination. The men were beginning to succeed in their efforts to force the remaining reptile back to the water; at least, it appeared to start retreating.

Without warning, the crocodile charged. Straight at me.

I had a terrifying glimpse of the creature's open mouth as it moved with remarkable swiftness to grab my leg. It had acted so quickly, everyone was too stunned to do anything. I shrieked and backed into the tent pole, clumsily trying to escape, but those awful teeth were about to close on my leg.

Only they didn't. They closed on something, certainly, but it was not me. A horrible yell echoed from the thin air in front of me as blood dribbled down an unseen leg, or arm, or something. Yes, of course, Skinner was standing between myself and the crocodile, and the animal bit him instead.

Another gunshot rent the air, and the crocodile released him. A second shot, and the beast lay still. Tom had put a pair of bullets into its head. In front of me, my invisible shield stumbled and fell backward; I caught him, somehow, and lowered him carefully to the ground.

To my relief, I learned that Skinner's wound, while painful, was not serious; the crocodile's teeth had reached flesh sooner than it had anticipated, and so it had not put its full strength behind the bite. Henry has patched him up well, and though the bandage he must wear for a few days will make it impossible for him to be perfectly invisible, he will be fine. We packed up camp immediately and spent the rest of the night in the safety of the boats, and as soon as I was decently able, I went to see him.

He seemed quite jovial, for a man who was recently bitten by a crocodile -- and not just any crocodile. According to Nemo, the crocodiles of Egypt are rumoured to be among the most ferocious beasts in the world. "You know, Bess," he said, "if you don't stop getting yourself into trouble like that, I'm gonna start charging for these little mishaps."

I could only shake my head and laugh. "I don't know what I'd do without you, my friend."

"Oh, you'd probably run off to America with Tom or something," he replied lightly. "Speaking of which..."

Tom had chosen that moment to join us, and I can only hope he didn't hear Skinner's last remark. I was red enough for both of us.

"Good shot there, Sawyer, lad," said Skinner, shaking hands with him.

"Not good enough. Shouldn't have let the croc get that close to Elizabeth in the first place. Good thing you were there." Tom looked rather uncomfortable for some reason. I had the vaguest unease myself; I think there was more to this entire conversation than I really understand, but perhaps it got cleared up after I left them to help with breakfast preparations.

It is now approaching midday, as near as I can tell by the sun, and we are currently sailing past the city of Cairo. I have been reading a book I found in the library back at Solomon Manor, about the exploits of a friend of Father's here in Egypt; it involves a woman known by her worshippers as "She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed." It's quite interesting, but utterly fantastical.

On the other hand...considering my current situation -- sharing a tent with a vampire, befriended by an invisible man, cared for by a doctor who can transform into a beast -- perhaps I shouldn't judge so hastily.