Bound for Khartoum Once More 



It is well to make the first march a short one 

 if one is proceeding on a long journey, as every- 

 thing is pandemonium at the beginning, and the 

 porters like to have plenty of time to settle down 

 on reaching camp the first day out. 



We soon left the immediate confines of the 

 civilization of a town, and that evening saw us 

 encamped on the last ridge we should have to 

 cross before getting out into the open country. 

 It was a pretty camp, amongst tall forest trees 

 and elephant grass, but, oh ! how it rained in the 

 evening, which boded ill for the morrow. 



Off in the fresh early morning, the high grass 

 sprinkling its dew upon us in myriads of glistening 

 drops. How much my toilet was improved by 

 this shower-bath can easily be imagined. Often 

 enough on such marches I have envied my 

 savages, who by hanging a broad banana leaf 

 in front of their bodies obtained very good pro- 

 tection, while I was wet and shivering — a victim 

 to my own civilization. 



A ceaseless monotony envelops the traveller 

 upon these marches, sharp and prickly grasses, 

 isolated trees — acacias and mimosas — and reeds 

 of gigantic dimensions often forming regular 

 walls on either side. But the monotony of 

 tramping is not quite unbroken. Every now 

 and again, quite unexpectedly, one gets a blow 

 on the shin from some hidden tree stump, or a 

 tear from some prickly thorn, of which the most 



217 



