Free The Camel of Destruction by Michael Pearce Page A

political point?’
    ‘Yes, it is,’ said the Chairman. ‘This is not a political meeting, Mr. Sidki. May I ask you, please, to keep your remarks in order?’
    ‘Thank you, Mr. Chairman,’ said the lecturer, mopping his brow—it was extremely hot in the large tent—‘I was certainly under the impression, when I agreed to address the Khedivial Agricultural Society, that I was being asked for a scientific contribution. I’m not in the business of making political speeches.’
    ‘Quite so.’
    ‘I just want to say this: Egypt wouldn’t be where it is today if it didn’t have the wealth, experience and expertise of England behind it!’
    ‘Hear, hear!’
    ‘But that
is
a political speech!’ cried the persistent voice from the back.
    The Chairman decided it was time to move the meeting on. ‘If I were you, Mr. Hiscock, I would stick to cotton,’ he advised.
    ‘Yes, well, it’s all connected. My point is that everything in Egypt depends on cotton. The economy is based on the success of the cotton crop. And now it’s all being threatened by the boll weevil.’
    The speaker, more at home with figures than words, produced statistics to show the crop loss resulting from the weevil’s depredations.
    ‘Could you put a value on that, Mr. Hiscock?’ asked the Chairman.
    ‘£3.29 millions for the year just ended, at last year’s prices.’
    ‘Three million!’
    Someone whistled.
    ‘That’s a lot! Think of the difference it would make to the country’s finances at the present time!’
    ‘There is no doubt,’ said the speaker, ‘that the shortfall over the past three years has contributed materially to the present recession.’
    ‘Is there anything that can be done about it?’ someone asked.
    The speaker glowed. There certainly was. But first he would have to explain the life cycle of the boll weevil.
    Owen looked along the row again but the situation had not changed. If anything, the tent had become more crowded. When he had decided to go to the public meeting he had not expected that there would be such a large audience. The Khedivial Agricultural Society was clearly a thriving body.
    The cycle began, the speaker explained, when the moth laid its eggs on the shoots of the young cotton plant in spring. When the eggs hatched out, the worms burrowed into the plant and fed upon it. The worm then came out again and formed a chrysalis from which it emerged later as the boll-worm moth.
    ‘For our purposes, though,’ said the speaker, ‘the crucial thing is the timing.’
    The gradual increase in temperature during the summer meant that most eggs hatched out in September, just when the cotton crop was becoming ready for picking. The first picking, early in the month, was not greatly affected; the second, later, showed significant depredation; and the third, in a bad year, could be a total loss.
    ‘If, therefore,’ said the speaker, ‘we could bring the ripening of the crop forward, were it only by a couple of weeks, we would increase the yield significantly.’
    ‘And how might this be done?’
    ‘By changing the seed,’ said Mr. Hiscock triumphantly. There was a rustle of interest around the tent.
    ‘I can report that the Society has developed a new strain of seed which allows the crop to mature earlier.’
    The audience burst into applause. The Chairman allowed it to continue for some minutes and then rapped his gavel.
    ‘But this is very important!’ said a man, standing up, at the front. ‘Lancashire depends on Egypt for its cotton.’
    ‘It’s pretty important to the fellahin, too,’ said the irrepressible voice from the back.
    ‘And the Society owns the rights in this?’ asked the man at the front.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Excellent! Excellent!’
    He sat down but then at once jumped up again.
    ‘How soon can we have sufficient stocks to start selling?’
    ‘Virtually immediately. Although, of course, it will take a year or two to build up stocks to the level at which we can replace all other