The Tigris Expedition [antikvár]

CHAPTER 1 In Search of the Beginnings The beginning. The real beginning. This was the place. This was where written history began. This was where mythology began. This was the source of three of the mightiest religions in human history. Two billion Christians, Jews and Moslems all over the world are taught by their sacred books that this was the spot chosen by God to give life to mankind. Here two large rivers, the Euphrates and Tigris, drift slowly together, and their meeting-place is shown on every world map. Yet it is not a spectacular scene. Silent as the rivers when they meet are the narrow rows of date palms lining the banks, while sun and moon, passing over the barren desert, are reflected day and night on the calm waters. A rare canoe glides by, with men casting nets. This, most of mankind believes, was the cradle of homo sapiens, paradise lost. A narrow point of green land is drawn out between the two rivers as they meet and greet each other with slow whirls, forming a single river, the Shatt-al-Arab, which quickly hides from view behind a palm-lined bend. Between the rivers, at the very point of the land, a little resthouse was once built and subsequently half abandoned. With its three guest rooms, large hall and still bigger terrace, facing the sunrise over the river Tigris, the modest building bears an impressive name in big letters above the door: the garden of eden resthouse. This boastful name is justified if we are to take a nearby notice-board literally. Hardly a stone's throw from the resthouse, and separated from it by a greensward large enough for building a boat, are a couple of inconspicuous green trees leaning over the Tigris. Between them lies a thick, short stump. This was part of a fallen tree