98 Bird Hunting on the White Nile. 



well what the cloud meant. It drew rapidly nearer and 

 I walked quickly on, but was still some way from the 

 tenta when there was a sudden roar of wind, then fell 

 darkness, and the air, laden with sand, became blinding 

 and suffocating, blotting out the country like a thick mist. 

 To try and proceed meant losing oneself in this fog of 

 sand. To face the wind was to court blindness, and 

 there was nothing to be done but to crouch down back 

 to the driving cutting sand and wait for the storm to 

 clear. Gradually the air got clearer, and with the dark- 

 ness gone, but with much sand still blowing, I made 

 my way to camp. The storm produced the usual un- 

 comfortable results: clothes and body seemed saturated 

 with grit ; boxes and trunks, ever so tightly closed, 

 were filled with sand, and meat and drink that night 

 were thickly seasoned with it. When a storm was accom- 

 panied by a heavy rush of wind the results were more 

 annoying. Clothes and papers were scattered, and once 

 my tent blew down with a run, burying my camera and 

 myself in the ruins. The only benefit bestowed by a 

 sand-storm was an occasional cool wind which followed, 

 but this was, unfortunately, rare, and scarcely compen- 

 sated for the two or three hours of misery the storm 

 entailed. 



As a rule an approaching dusi>storm appeared merely 



