404 
THE SUDAN 
edifice, though built by Ismail Pasha ; on either side of this, stretched 
along the river bank, is a long line of Government Offices and barracks 
interspersed with the comfortable houses of officials set each in its 
pleasant garden. Since every one, naturally enough, wished to have 
a bit of river frontage the length of the town is considerable, but its 
breadth insignificant, and its cross-streets starting from the river run 
vaguely into the desert. 
At the end of one of these cross-streets, hard by the rising walls 
of the Anglican Cathedral, stands Hamo Tliorneycroft’s fine statue 
of Gordon, who, sitting his camel with the grace for which he was 
famous, seems to gaze wistfully over the boundless desert. In 
Khartum one feels always in the hushed presence of Gordon, just 
as in Omdurman one is haunted by the evil genius of the Khalifa. 
The familiar figure of Sir Eudolph von Slatin Pasha, seen daily in 
the streets, reminds one how very recent are the terrible events of 
January, 1885, when every man, every child, and every old woman 
was ruthlessly put to the sword. In a place whose tragic history is 
but of yesterday, a place 1000 miles from Cairo, it seemed wonderful to 
find people living not only in peace and security but even in luxury. 
Perhaps the incongruity seemed greatest when listening to the string- 
band of the Sudanese regiment playing dance-music after dinner. 
The following story reached my ears, of which it may be said, se 
non e vero e ben trovato: A man who knew Khartum well, and the 
officials resident there, found himself one day at Omdurman while 
Cook’s dragoman was holding forth as to the objects of interest. 
Standing on the top of the Khalifa’s house he pointed to a neighbour¬ 
ing building and said: “ That is where von Slatin Pasha lived with 
his eleven wives.” He at once rebuked the dragoman, saying that 
of course his statement was—at least as to the wives—entirely with¬ 
out foundation; moreover that Slatin was a great man and powerful, 
and that if he heard of it the dragoman’s stay in Khartum would be 
short. A week later a friend came to Khartum, and the first man 
said to him: “ Have you been Cook’s excursion to Omdurman ? ” 
On receiving an affirmative reply he said: “ By the way, what did 
the dragoman show you ? Did he mention von Slatin ? ” “ Oh 
yes,” was the answer. “As we stood on the top of the Khalifa’s 
house he pointed to a neighbouring building and said: ‘ That is 
where von Slatin Pasha did not live with his eleven wives.’ ” 
The day after my arrival I was walking over the desert to the 
eastward, beyond the rifle ranges. To my left and left front lay the 
Blue Nile, its course being marked by a row of acacia trees, distant 
perhaps two miles. The desert was so flat and monotonous that one 
