RENK 71 



was one of those unpleasant events in life which are 

 the prelude to the greatest luck. I was to be Inspector 

 of the Dinkas in the Upper Nile (Fashoda) province ; 

 but, pending the arrival of my predecessor with books 

 and local information, I had to remain in Khartum 

 for a month. Every one knows what a tropical station 

 is without a horse, and for me it was useless to get one. 

 I spent the morning in the Civil Secretary's office ; 

 hours from 9 a.m. to 2 P.M. It was very hot, and 

 there was very little doing. 



I arrived at my destination at the beginning of July. 

 Renk did then appear a desolate spot. The plantation 

 I made, and the orangery I settled (from trees cast hap- 

 hazard by a previous inspector about the place), have 

 made it look more agreeable. I erected my mosquito- 

 house without delay. I had been warned about that 

 pest. I do not remember what happened the first night. 

 I certainly did not sleep. The mosquitoes in India, 

 South Africa, and Kordofan were mere dilettanti — 

 little worse than sand-flies — compared to the ones I 

 now encountered. From the first day I was in bed 

 before sundown, and did not get up till after sunrise, 

 when my curtain, even inside the mosquito-house, 

 would be black with the pests. I may say that, from 

 the day I arrived to the day I left, a mosquito was 

 drawing blood from me every moment of the day or 

 night not spent inside the curtains over my bed. 

 Since that day a stagnant khor has been cleared, so 

 I believe that in the sudd alone can the mosquito 

 now claim the right of creating a hell on earth. 



While on this subject I may as well say a word 



