Free Tutankhamun Uncovered by Michael J Marfleet Page B

naturally, credit us with the majority of the illustrations, will you not?”
    Although his mind was a soup of suspicion, after a short pause Newberry reluctantly nodded his approval. Carter, taking his cue from his senior colleague, followed with a restrained nod of his own.
    The other two smiled. “Bit tired after the trip and all. Lot of work in a short time. Sorry we won’t be able to stay up for a drink with you tonight. Better get some rest. Good night.” And they took themselves off to bed.
    Newberry and Carter went on about their business notwithstanding.
    Despite the clear felony, Fraser and Blackden’s efforts paid off. Carter and Newberry were indeed robbed of the recognition they should rightfully have received had they published their discovery first. The young Carter had learned that Egyptology was a competitive discipline, sometimes unfairly dispatched. (Preliminary translations of some of the graffiti at Hatnub by Blackden and a couple of his illustrations were included latterly with Part II of Newberry’s El Bersha publication and, in the honourable tradition of the day,
    acknowledged in the text. However, no such protocol was followed by Blackden and Fraser in their publication on Hatnub. They had never intended the book to appear under any other authorship than their own and the document was published without a single reference to those who had made the discovery.)
    But there was a silver lining to these clouds of silent resentment. The unwritten laws of gentlemen were, in the course of time, fairly enforced. In return for their unsporting behaviour, Blackden and Fraser would find themselves disgraced, if only temporarily. Theirs had been a conduct not befitting the profession. So tainted, they would, for a time at least, no longer be listed as prime candidates for future assignments.
    This, as it turned out, was to Carter’s personal good fortune. The scandal was still fresh in the mind of the upright Petrie when he was looking for a new assistant to help him with his forthcoming excavations at El Amarna, the contemporary name for the devastated city complex of the heretic king. Petrie summarily struck Blackden off his list. Howard Carter got the job.
    This was not without some trepidation on Carter’s part, and not much less so on the part of Petrie himself. Under normal circumstances the great man was not at all inclined to suffer youth, trained or not, in his exclusive team.
    Arriving at Petrie’s camp while the Egyptologist was still at work in the field, Carter took a few moments to acquaint himself with his new surroundings. A substantial mud brick building stood in front of him and this, he supposed, must be his and Petrie’s quarters. Beside it was a large sack evidently holding more mud bricks and adjacent to this some mud mortar. Clearly the fellahs were about to build a storehouse of some kind.
    Before Carter had time to take in any more, Petrie himself returned, sweating and grimy from his labours. The most famous Egyptologist of the time marched into the field camp with a bouncing step. With hand outstretched, Carter walked forward to greet him like an old friend.
    Petrie was a tall, powerfully built man with dark hair, a full beard and moustache, and a penetrating stare. But this softened as he came upon his new colleague. One of the man’s many talents was his ability to assess character from a person’s looks. He had expected one day he would like working with the young man. The brief meetings in Cairo had been enough.
    “Good to see you again, Howard,” he greeted encouragingly. “Let’s get something to eat and drink and I’ll explain your duties for the next few days. We have much to accomplish.”
    Carter was led over to a rude table made of a flat piece of wood supported on either side by two Crawford’s biscuit tins. Carter and Petrie sat opposite one another on empty wooden boxes. Youthfully hungry, Carter ate as Petrie talked.
    “Y’don’t know how lucky y’are,