316 
SAVAGE SUDAN 
lengthened sojourn local circumstance forbade. It was the 
old, old cry—water. Water, in African travel, ever repre¬ 
sents the inexorable limit, and here there was none. We 
had been forewarned that, although there were wells at 
Eneikliba, yet the water was too horribly foul even to 
wash in. We had therefore brought with us one full 
day’s supply for man and beast, and that quantity 
marked the rigid limit of our stay. We worked every 
available hour, and consoled ourselves with the hope that 
on the return-journey, a month or so later, we should 
contrive to engineer a more thorough exploration. Again 
the Fates flouted us. A month later we found the con¬ 
ditions at Eneikliba entirely changed; the water had 
evaporated and not a tithe of the birds remained. Twice 
a promising chance had been lost, though the fault was 
not wholly ours. 
This wooded swamp of Eneikliba recalled in Its main 
features these bird-resorts in Andalucia that we had dis¬ 
covered forty years before and described In Wild Spain —- 
La Rocina de la Mad re, and the Lagunas de Santolalla 
—-spots that subsequently became the Mecca of wandering 
ornithologists. Here, at Eneikliba, another generation 
may find a minor Medina! The date for its exploration 
should be before Christmas, and the primary consideration 
a good water-supply; or alternatively, during the breeding 
season, whenever that may fall. 
On the eve of a New Year we encamped on a bluff 
overlooking Blue Nile and, after dining on spatch-cocked 
guinea-fowl, slept a la belle etoile . I remember watching 
the stars pale to the dawn that ushered in a.d. 1914; but 
little did we—or anyone else in the civilised world—dream 
of the calculated outrage that that year of Our Lord 
was destined to see precipitated. 
Beneath our camp on “ Blue Nile Bluff” nestled deep 
tamarisk woods wherein we enjoyed profitable days 
collecting. Among notable prizes here were a pair of 
