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.

Perhaps I should not write of it at all. NO ONE IS permitted to build a house within bowshot of the White Wall. The White Wall itself surprised me when I saw it. It is tall, but I had expected it to be taller. It surprised me a second time when we entered, for it is much thicker than it is high. The temples in the city have thick walls and monstrous pillars, but they are nothing compared with this great fortress. There are rings of defenses, square towers to guard the gates and the corners of the walls, and a dry moat. Archers on the towers would command the wall, should an enemy drive the defenders from it.

The soldiers I spoke with were of Kemet. They said the men of Parsa here are horsemen. These soldiers of Kemet were tall and dark. Many wore headcloths like mine. They had spears and big shields with slots in them to look through. One had a light ax as well. It hung on the back of his shield, held by two loops of rope and prevented from slipping through them by the hook at the end of the haft. *These were hieroglyphic, hieratic, and sekh shat or enchorial. They may be compared to printing, cursive, and shorthand.