CHAPTER III 



COLLAPSE AND RETURN 



" Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes 'im to perspire? 

 It isn't standin' up to charge, nor lyin' down to fire. 

 But it's everlastin' waitin' on a everlastin' road 

 For the commissariat camel, an' 'is commissariat load." 



Kipling. 



A STARTLED cry of " Webbi ! asan ! dig ! " (River ! red ! 

 blood !) roused the camp at dawn next morning. I knew the 

 first word meant river, and the last meant blood. I seized my 

 revolver and cartridges, crawled through the low doorway of 

 the hut, and ran across the village clearing to the river bank. 

 I quite thought that Fumo Omari's men were already crossing 

 the river, and that our sentry's cry of " Blood " meant that he 

 was wounded. The mist hid the opposite shore, and in vain 

 I scanned the river for any sign of a foe. The man then 

 pointed to the water, and said it had turned to blood. During 

 the night an extraordinary change had occurred in it ; instead 

 of the usual muddy brown its colour was now a dark blood-red. 

 The floods in the upper part of the river must have washed 

 into it some material coloured by red oxide of iron, and effected 

 this startling change in its hue. " This is a bad river ; we shall 

 never go up it ; this is a sign," said my old cook. I said it 

 was only the result of " rain-wash," and joked about it, to try 

 to prevent the men attaching any importance to the incident. 

 But nothing I could say would shake its significance to 

 them. 



The cook, Hirsi, was by far the oldest man in camp, and 

 as such his opinion was always received with respect. My 

 assertion that rivers often changed their colour, and that it 



