SUNGAKAI 35 



of khoorg and furwa, what is going on some three 

 feet lower down. On horses we had to push our way 

 past every overhanging thorn-branch. When the moon 

 went down I had to call a halt. I had been all but 

 swept off my saddle by a branch a moment before. 

 We rested for three-quarters of an hour, and were on 

 the move again at the first streak of dawn. Our guide 

 having under-estimated the distance to go, we broke 

 into a gallop and surrounded the house he led us to 

 just as, heralded by shaft after shaft of gold, the sun 

 shot up, a huge crimson globe in the East. 



The owner of the house proved to be an innocent 

 old villager, personally known to Lyall. Our guide 

 then admitted that he had hoped that, when we got 

 news of the whereabouts of the real Ibrahim, we would 

 release the one we had. In this he made an error. 



Lyall and I ate our postponed dinner, which we 

 made from raw eggs beaten up in milk. Partly to 

 utilise the cool of the day and partly to ease our minds 

 as to the safety of the rest of the patrol, we started 

 back at once. Both going and returning we must 

 have struck terror in the hearts of the villagers whose 

 houses we passed in the dead of night ; for Arabs, too, 

 tell many fables of ghostly riders, and at that date a 

 mounted corps other than the Hagana was unknown 

 in Kordofan. In one village we came upon a diluka 

 (dance) in full swing. The charm that fell upon the 

 Sleeping Beauty's palace did not produce figures more 

 motionless than did our advent. Outside this village 

 were piled, according to Sudan etiquette, the arms of 

 the guests. The number of new spears confirmed the 



