Khartoum and Omdurman 



Another thing that struck me in Khartoum 

 was the number of donkeys. The riding donkey 

 is part and parcel of Khartoum and Omdurman. 

 I am quite certain Khartoum was made for the 

 donkey, and not the other way round. Donkeys 

 are ubiquitous. There are millions of them, all 

 conveying someone somewhere. You meet long 

 fellows, short fellows, black fellows, some fellows 

 with their heels within six inches of the ground 

 either in full war paint or in immaculate polo kit ; 

 ladies, and all and sundry, bestriding — I should 

 say seated on — a donkey of sorts, and being 

 carried along. All the rider has to do is to 

 waggle his feet somewhere round the eyes or 

 ears of the ass, and he goes like smoke. The 

 donkey-boys keep them moving by making nasty 

 noises behind one's back, but I wish they wouldn't 

 beat them, as that hurts the animals, besides 

 nearly unseating one when the poor brutes flinch 

 under the blows. 



Then, at Khartoum is the Gordon College, 

 founded in memory of one of England's greatest 

 heroes to educate the sons of the notables in 

 the land, and bring them up in the way they 

 should go. 



Practically the whole of the administration is 

 centred in the War Office, an imposing-looking 

 red-brick building standing back from the river, 

 situated next to the palace. Here the civil and 

 military departments have their offices in different 



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