Khartoum and Omdurman 



from the direction of Cairo in a comfortable railway 

 carriage, like a Cook's tourist, and have my soul 

 vexed by interpreters, dragomans, agents of all 

 sorts, and other annoying people who insist on 

 everything being done in its proper order by 

 rotation, and, worse than all, to have everything 

 so thoroughly well explained by some walking 

 Baedeker as to make it banal to hear. I like 

 finding things out for myself and asking questions 

 when it seemeth good to me. 



Well, as we steamed in the good ship Dal 

 down the White Nile, Khartoum appeared in due 

 course : the gleaming white minarets of the 

 mosques rose above the nodding heads of the 

 feathery palm trees, which make of it a lovely 

 waving green oasis amidst the sandy, burnt-up 

 plains around. 



On we steamed slowly, as the river is full 

 of shallows here, till Omdurman hove in sight on 

 the starboard bow — I mean the near side. 



Khartoum then disappears for a moment from 

 one's thoughts ; one's attention is altogether 

 taken up with Omdurman, the late Dervish 

 stronghold and hotbed of Mohammedan fanati- 

 cism, which seems at first sight to be an insignifi- 

 cant collection of mud huts on the left bank after 

 the junction of the two rivers, the Blue and 

 White Niles. 



It is best to take one's pleasures — and, in fact, 

 most things — as they come, so we'll have a dig 



119 



