DAWN 135 



left hand." After lasting about half-an-hour this grey 

 glow disappears and the world is plunged into dark- 

 ness which appears more dense for the slight light 

 that has been withdrawn. Between 4.30 and 6 a.m., 

 according to the season, comes the true dawn. From 

 the first glimmer of light to the rise of the sun seldom 

 takes more than half-an-hour. First a haze around the 

 horizon, then small shafts of light, and then the dark, 

 velvet curtain of night seems lifted by its centre like 

 the cloth off a conjurer's bowl, and shaft after shaft, 

 as through a glorious prism, herald the upward- 

 bounding sun, which shoots in blinding splendour 

 into the heavens. It is a sight which fascinates day 

 after day. One's only sorrow in beholding it is that 

 it lasts so short a time. It is seen at its best on the 

 desert, but to behold the break of dawn and sunrise 

 down a stately forest avenue is, too, a very grand 

 sight. 



Both at Sultan Limbo's (not far from Wau) and at 

 Dem Idris one sees the very fortifications used in the 

 pre-Mahdist times. At the latter place are the charred 

 remains of the stockade which Gessi took by storm 

 from Zubeir Pasha's adherents and agents in the slave 

 traffic Gordon tried to put down. Here, too, was a 

 well, sunk by Lupton. I cleaned and covered it. The 

 bees seemed to have chosen the well to commit suicide 

 in. The water was thick with their carcases, and had 

 a really disgusting taste of honey-laden putrefaction. 

 In my later visits it was beautifully "water-like." 



I reached my headquarters-to-be, Dem Zubeir, one 

 afternoon. It was most picturesque. One descended 



