THE WESTERN BEND 
233 
stern of a somnolent wart-hog—his fore-end half-hidden 
in grass, hind legs at full stretch behind. He was sound 
asleep; nor did he ever awake—a fine old boar, with 
tusks projecting ioi inches clear of the gums. Thus the 
friendly villagers again went home well laden. 
The Isis that night (February 4th) was infested by 
tiny flies, the size of a pin-point — never seen before or 
since. By day, to make things lively, we had swarms 
of flying ants (that bite), as well as seroot-flies with the 
speed of a falcon and malevolent energy of the erewhile 
militant suffragette. It may likewise be worth mentioning 
that that morning a distinct rainbow had showed to the 
south, the only one I then recollected seeing in the Sudan ; 
though I have subsequently observed the phenomenon on 
two or three occasions. 
Sacred and Hagedash Ibis. 
(Note invisible Squacco Heron in foreground.) 
(11) Khor Attar 
The merciful mystery of dawn (terminating a swelter¬ 
ing night in knee-boots) revealed what appeared to be 
two goal-posts on the eastern bank. But what football 
club plays here? Dim memories of far-away Rugby 
days recalled the “Black Heathens”; but have they a 
Nilotic outpost ? Such silly musings were dissolved when, 
at sun-up, a sentry appeared and the British and 
Egyptian flags flew out from the twin staffs. Nothing 
