Those interested in big game hunting under the soil of Egypt, and in bringing their trophies home with them, met a preliminary reverse when the Egyptian government declared that no more finds should be taken out of the country; and a final blow when the Carnavon expedition had its excavating license revoked.

A good example of Egyptian feeling in this regard is given in a communication published in a native newspaper when Lord Carnavon's body was being sent home. The paper suggested that his coffin be searched, declaring itself not at all sure that archaeological treasures might not be concealed in it. After this the expedition and the government proceeded to exchange discourtesies; the government by slighting European ladies, and Mr. Carter by affronting officials with the result, presumably, that none of the objects from the tomb will over be taken farther than Cairo.

This is not as unfortunate as it sounds, however, for after all the material is of artistic rather than scientific value. What has been found merely fills a small gap in the history of a well known period, and the objects removed are just as well off in Cairo as in London.

But nevertheless Europeans and Americans are disgruntled because their spoilation has been stopped and King Fuad and his officials have been ruffled to the point where they may make it uncomfortable for other and less-widely advertised scientists to do their work. And after all the effect upon future scientific inquiry in Egypt is the only important outcome of the whole affair.