DOWN THE NILE; THE GIANT ELAND 453 
both seriously sick; so was the district commissioner, 
kind Mr. Haddon. One day a German missionary dined 
with us; the next he was dead, of black water fever. An 
English sportsman whom we had met at Nimule had been 
brought in so sick that he was at death’s door; Dr. 
Mearns took care of him, badly off though he himself was. 
We had brought with us a case of champagne for just 
such emergencies; this was the first time that we made use 
of it. 
On the last day of February we started down the Nile, 
slipping easily along on the rapid current, which wound 
and twisted through stretches of reeds and marsh grass 
and papyrus. We halted at the attractive station of Lado 
for a good-bye breakfast with our kind Belgian friends, 
and that evening we dined at Mongalla with Colonel 
Owen, the Chief of the southernmost section of the Soudan. 
I was greatly interested in the Egyptian and Soudanese 
soldiers, and their service medals. Many of these medals 
showed that their owners had been in a dozen campaigns; 
some of the native officers and men (and also the Reis 
or native captain of our boat, by the way) had served 
in the battles which broke forever the Mahdi’s cruel power; 
two or three had been with Gordon. They were a fine- 
looking set; and their obvious self-respect was a good thing 
to see. That same afternoon I witnessed a native dance, 
and was struck by the lack of men of middle age; in all 
the tribes who were touched by the blight of the Mah- 
dist tyranny, with its accompaniments of unspeakable 
horror, suffered such slaughter of the then young men that 
the loss has left its mark to this day. The English when 
they destroyed Mahdism rendered a great service to hu- 
