Thursday morning, the 7th. When I go on deck, we are very close to the bank. The color of the earth is exactly the color of the Nubian girls I saw at the Slaves Bazaar.

We haul the boat with ropes; towards 10 a.m. we stop by an island in the river - the pyramids of Sakkara are behind us to our right. We go down to the island with our rifles, we meet two men lying in the reeds - ducks and white birds. Grotesque of our crew following us with a big fat stick - the sand: looks like the sand along the Ocean- on the beach some wet places look like gray chocolate cream.

“Khamsin” [The wind]. We shut ourselves in - the sand grinds between the teeth - the faces become unrecognizable - it gets into our metal boxes and damages our supplies. It is impossible to cook. The sky is completely obscured; the sun is only a stain in the pale sky; large swirls of sand rise and whip the sides of our boat. Everyone is lying down. A British boat goes down the Nile, with fury, and twirls in the wind. - At sundown Max goes on shore with Sassetti and Joseph and set up some fishing lines.