Bound for Khartoum Once More 



whose waters flowed into the Kafu. This neces- 

 sitated a short halt in order to make our swamp 

 toilets. All strictly unnecessary clothes, together 

 with the hundred and one small impedimenta 

 which a traveller requires on the road — watch, 

 compass, aneroid, knife, etc., were made up into a 

 bundle and carried on the head. The water 

 reached up to our necks and was filled with 

 decomposed vegetable matter. The rays of the 

 sun were scorching, and clouds of mosquitoes took 

 the opportunity of attacking us with impunity. 

 Slowly the porters marched forward, feeling each 

 step of the way with their spears. Their work 

 was almost superhuman, but still no single load 

 was dropped into the swamp, the crossing of 

 which lasted nearly an hour. Once, some time 

 before, a porter on emerging from another such 

 swamp got into an elephant hole, and, stumbling 

 with his heavy load, caught hold of a tree to save 

 himself from falling. By evil luck there chanced 

 to be a bees' nest in the branches, and the 

 unlucky man brought down their vengeance not 

 only on himself, but on yours truly and the 

 remainder of his fellows. Luckily he was almost 

 the last man out of the water, or the loads, which 

 were pitched into the grass on all sides whilst 

 their owners scampered helter-skelter away, would 

 have been lost in the water. 



If the swamp or stream is of no great depth, 

 it is a good plan to take off one's breeches and 



23t 



