CHAPTER XXIV

THE SOUDAN WAR (_Continued_)

II. HOW WE BROUGHT THE BOATS THROUGH THE GREAT GATE

In January, 1884, General Gordon was entrusted by the British and

Egyptian Governments with the impossible task of evacuating the Soudan

and of organising its future internal administration, in the face of a

vast horde of armed fanatics. In April, the investment of Khartoum, in

which Gordon was shut up, was complete. In May, preparations for war

were begun in England and in Egypt. It was not, however, until 8th

August that Lord Hartington informed General Stephenson, commanding the

British Army of Occupation in Egypt, that measures would be taken to

relieve Gordon. During the same month the whale-boats for the Nile

route were ordered. On 26th August General Stephenson was informed

that Lord Wolseley would command the expedition.

In August, while I was staying with the Duke of Fife at Mar Lodge, I

was appointed to Lord Wolseley's Staff.

I sailed with Lord Wolseley and the rest of his Staff. We arrived at

Alexandria on 9th September, 1884, and went on to Cairo, where we

lodged in the Palace on the Shoobra Road. Here were Lord Wolseley,

General Sir Redvers Buller, Colonel Swaine, Major Wardrop and Lord

Edward Fitzgerald, A.D.C. to Buller. Sir Evelyn Wood and Commander

Hammill were already up the Nile {222} organising transport and supply.

General Sir Herbert Stewart and General Earle were at Wady Halfa.

It is not my intention to relate the history of the war, which has been

admirably recorded in the various works dealing with the subject; but

rather to narrate my personal experiences during the campaign. And the

reader will also be left to his own consideration of the contemporary

affairs of the great world: the marrying and giving in marriage, losses

and gains, desires foiled and ambitions achieved, the shifts and

intrigues and gossip of domestic politics, the portentous manoeuvres

upon the clouded stage of international drama: all of which, to the

sailors and soldiers of the forlorn hope strung along the gigantic

reaches of the Nile, toiling and fighting in the desert, went by as

though it had never been. It is an old story now; very many of my

gallant comrades have passed away; but the record of their courage and

endurance remains, and shall remain.

When we arrived in Cairo there were already 29 naval officers and 190

men, divided into several sections, at work along the Nile. These were

sent by Admiral Lord John Hay, commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean.

In addition, the Admiralty had appointed two or three senior officers,

among whom was Captain Boardman (afterwards Admiral F. R. Boardman,

C.B.). At Lord Wolseley's request, Boardman was placed in command of

the whole naval contingent, which had not hitherto been under either a

naval officer in chief command or the military authority. My own

position with regard to the naval contingent was simply that of Lord

Wolseley's representative.

While we were in Cairo I purchased for £24 my famous racing camel

Bimbashi. Buller also bought a camel, and we rode together daily. He

used to laugh till he nearly fell out of his saddle, when my camel ran

away with me through and over foot-passengers, donkeys, carriages and

dogs. I might haul Bimbashi's head round till it was under my knee,

and he was looking astern, and still he charged onwards.

{223}

The whale-boats designed to transport the expedition were then arriving

in large numbers. The total number was 800. They were similar to the

man-of-war 30-foot whaler, but fuller in the body to enable them to

carry more weight. Each boat was 30 feet long, with six feet six

inches beam, and two feet six inches draught, fitted for 12 oars, and

two masts with lug sails, and capable of carrying 10 soldiers, two

boatmen (Canadian _voyageurs_), 1000 rations and ammunition.

There was a story current when the boats were struggling up the Nile,

that one of them, manned by a sergeant and eight soldiers, but without

a _voyageur_ on board, having run athwart a rock and upset, a soldier

observed to the sergeant that "the cove who sent nine men in a boat

with 1000 rations must have been this here journey before!"

There were also to be provided eight steam pinnaces, two stern-wheel

paddle boats, and a number of hired Egyptian Government steamers. The

whale-boats as they arrived were sent, first, by rail and river to

Assiout. Thence they were towed to Assouan, where is the First

Cataract. Here they were either railed on trucks, or hauled through

the rapids to Shellal, eight miles up. From Shellal to Wady Halfa, 200

miles farther, was plain sailing. At Wady Halfa is the Second Cataract

and the formidable rapid of Bab-el-Kebir, or the "Great Gate."

Early in September I was ordered by Lord Wolseley to go up the Nile,

overhauling the arrangements for the water transport, right up to Wady

Halfa, which would be the temporary military base, I went by train from

Cairo to Assiout, the hottest journey I had ever endured. India was

nothing to it. The desert gathered itself up to destroy me. Any

little spot upon my person which was not deep in desert was a

fly-bazaar. But at Assiout a cold shower-bath paid for all. Here I

investigated the transport arrangements made by Captain Boardman, and

found them excellent. I may say at once that the whole of Captain

Boardman's work was admirable, and that his management {224} throughout

the campaign was marked by the greatest good feeling, tact, and

patience.

I left Assiout in one of Messrs. Cook's steamers, the _Fersaat_, which

had the appearance of a boat and the manners of a kangaroo. She was

loosely concocted of iron and leaked at every rivet; she squealed and

grunted; her boiler roared like a camel; she bounded as she went. Her

Reis (captain and pilot) was a sorrowful old Mohammedan, whose only

method of finding out if the shoals and sands were still in the same

place was by running upon them; and his manner of getting off them was

to cry "Allah Kerim!" ("God is great!") and to beat his poor old

forehead on the deck. In the meantime one of his Arabs, tastefully

attired in a long blue night-gown, an enormous pair of drawers, and

decorated elastic-sided boots, stripped and jumped overboard and pushed

the boat, and while he pushed he chanted a dirge. As the boat began to

move, he made sounds which suggested that he was about to be violently

sick but could not quite manage it satisfactorily, although encouraged

thereto by the loud objurgations of the two stokers. When he clambered

back on deck, he put on the decorated boots and walked about in them

till he was dry enough to dress; while the Reis gave thanks to his

Maker, and the two stokers, men who knew nothing and feared nothing,

piled wood on the furnaces and drove the boat along again.

If anyone walked from port to starboard or touched the helm, the boat

rolled over, and until the next roll maintained a list of ten degrees,

so that I was frequently shot off the locker upon which I was trying to

sleep, landing upon the top of José, my Maltese interpreter, and

followed by field-glasses, filter, sword and boots. The

mosquito-curtains carried away, and the mosquitoes instantly attacked

in force, driving me nearly mad with loss of blood, irritation, and

rage. My only comfort was a pneumatic life-belt, which had been sent

to me by Lady Charles, and which I used as a pillow.

{225}

So we struggled along against the stream for the 330 miles to Assouan;

and the weather was not too hot, and the nights were cool, and the

banks were fringed with date-palms, and every night the sun sank from

the intense blue of the zenith, laced with long-drawn clouds of rose,

to the lucent green low in the west, and the sand turned to gold colour

and rose, until the sun dropped suddenly out of sight and all turned

grey like ashes. Then a cold little wind sprang up out of the desert

and the night deepened into the velvet dark flashing with a myriad

stars.

On 23rd September I came to Assouan: reorganised the postal service to

bring two mails a week by steam-launch: made arrangements for the rapid

working of the water transport generally, ready for the time of

pressure, and sent an urgent request for flexible wire hawsers, as I

was sure they would be urgently required.

Leaving Assouan on 24th September, I arrived at Wady Halfa on the 27th.

Here were Sir Evelyn Wood and his Staff; among whom was my old friend

Zohrab Pasha. I was immediately set to work trying camels, as I had

become acquainted with these singular animals in India.

Upon the day of my arrival I went out with a young officer in the

Mounted Infantry. His camel blundered over an irrigation ditch, and

flung my young friend head over heels into the mud, where he sat

looking sadly up into the face of his steed, which was complaining, as

camels do, making a peculiar mumbling noise like an old woman kept

waiting for her tea. Having been restored to his seat, this

unfortunate youth immediately rode too close to the river and

incontinently fell into a deep mud hole from which he had to be dug out.

On 5th October Lord Wolseley arrived at Wady Halfa, as cheery as usual,

and took up his quarters in a _dahabieh_. Sir Redvers Buller and

Zohrab Pasha were also dwelling in _dahabiehs_. I was attached to Sir

Evelyn Wood's mess, Sir Evelyn being in charge of communications. I

lived in a small bell tent close to the river, chiefly furnished with a

{226} penny whistle, a photograph of Lady Charles, my letters from

home, and a stag beetle big enough to carry me to hounds, which I

generally had to chase from my bed.

Upon Lord Wolseley's arrival we heard the rumour of the murder of

Colonel Stewart at El-Kamar, and of the slaying of his companions.

Ultimately, the news was confirmed. Stewart, with three steamers, had

left Khartoum on 10th September. After shelling the forts at Berber,

two of the steamers returned; while Stewart, in the Abbas, which was

towing two boats carrying refugees, went on to Abu Hamid, where the

natives opened a heavy fire. The boats were cast adrift and their

passengers captured. Stewart went on; his steamer was wrecked near the

village of Hebbeh, at which, having been induced to land by treachery,

Stewart, M. Herbin, French Consul at Khartoum, Mr. Power, _Times_

correspondent, and a number of Greeks and Egyptians, were slain. It

was a pitiful end to all Colonel Stewart's gallant service with Gordon.

During the first part of my time at Wady Halfa I was engaged under Lord

Wolseley's instructions in the inspection of the transport up and down

the river, often riding more than forty miles in a day upon a camel.

Wady Halfa was then being formed into the base camp preparatory to the

general advance: and troops and stores were arriving daily. The

railway ran along the east bank of the river to Sarras, 33 miles

distant.

One day, when Sir Evelyn Wood and a party of soldiers were going by

train to Sarras, and Commander Hammill and I were accompanying them,

the engine broke down half-way. The Egyptian engineer and stoker being

helpless, Hammill and I examined the locomotive, Hammill taking the top

part, while I lay on my back underneath, close to the furnace, where

the sensation was like being baked in an oven. The bearings were

overheated, a lubricating tube having become unscrewed. After two

hours' hard work, we managed to reverse the tube end for end and to

refix it. Sir Evelyn Wood helped to pull me from under the engine,

{227} and laughed till he cried. I was covered with black grease from

top to toe, and my clothes were scorched to tatters. Hammill was in no

better case, his suit being drenched with oil. The spectacle may have

been very amusing to the general; but neither Hammill nor I had more

than two suits, and here was one of them destroyed entirely.

By the 5th October, when Lord Wolseley arrived at Wady Halfa, Sir

Herbert Stewart had been for several days at Dongola with 250 Mounted

Infantry, who were transported in _nuggars_ (native boats) from Sarras.

The whale-boats were arriving daily at Wady Halfa, the first boat

having been hauled through the rapids on 25th September, and by the 5th

October there were 103 whalers assembled at Wady Halfa. At Wady Halfa

is the Second Cataract, at the lower end of which is the gorge of

Bab-el-Kebir, the Great Gate. Between Wady Halfa and Dal are the

cataracts of Samneh, Attireh, Ambigol, Tangour and Akasha. At

intervals of about 33 miles from Sarras to (New) Dongola, stations were

established with commissariat depots. The transport of troops and

stores from the base camp at Wady Halfa to Dongola consisted of the

steamers, whale-boats, and _nuggars_ along the river, the train from

Wady Halfa to Sarras, from Sarras to Ambigol by camel, thence by water.

The Camel Corps marched along the east bank to Dongola. It was

composed of four regiments, Heavy, Light, Guards, and Mounted Infantry,

each being composed of detachments from cavalry and infantry regiments,

each detachment consisting of two officers, two sergeants, two

corporals, one bugler, and 38 men; total, 94 officers, 1700 N.C.O.'s

and men.

Such, in brief, was the condition of affairs early in October (1884),

when I was stationed at the Second Cataract at Wady Halfa. Here the

Nile divides into two, flowing on either side of a group of rocks and

islands for about 20 miles, and at the other (or upper) end of the

group of rocks and islands, on the east (or left) bank, is the

sickle-shaped gorge of Bab-el-Kebir. At this time, although the {228}

river was falling, the roar of the torrent pouring through the Bab was

so tremendous, that no voice could be heard, and we communicated with

one another by semaphore. When I left the Bab, goats were feeding in

the bed of the river.

Lord Wolseley told me that he was informed that it was impossible to

haul the steamers up the Second Cataract, and asked me if I could do it.

I replied that nothing was impossible until it was proved to be

impossible; and that, in the case under consideration, I would admit

the impossibility when I had smashed two steamers in trying to get them

through; while if I smashed only one, I might thereby get experience

which would enable me to succeed with the other.

The steamers were hauled through successfully while the Bab-el-Kebir

was still full and roaring, the current being so powerful that the

steamers forging against it trembled like a whip.

Some 4000 natives were put on the hawser of the first steamer; and as

they hauled her up, she had but a foot's clearance between her sides

and the rocks. The torrent flung her against them, and if she had not

been defended by timber and mats, she would have been smashed to

pieces. About the middle of the gorge the natives could move her no

farther. Whereupon they cried to Allah to strengthen them, and to

order the rope to pull harder and to slacken the water. But as their

prayers availed not, I eased the steamer back again, and put about 1500

British soldiers on the hawser. They did not pray; indeed, their

language was as it were the reverse of prayer; but they dragged the

steamer right through. Theologically speaking, the victory should have

gone to the natives. I put the problem to a bishop, but he was unable

to solve it.

The task of hauling the whalers through the Second Cataract was at

first entrusted to Koko, the native pilot Of Bab-el-Kebir. His method

was to take a line, dive with it into the rapids, and carry it across

the river. The line was {229} frequently torn from him by the current,

and many of the boats were stove in against the rocks.

I designed a scheme of haulage, and was eventually placed by Lord

Wolseley in charge of the whole of the water transport from Wady Halfa

to Gemai, a stretch of about 17 miles. At Gemai was established a

dockyard, where damaged boats were repaired and equipped for the rest

of the voyage.

My scheme for hauling the boats consisted of a stout standing guess

warp rigged as nearly as possible at right angles to the course of the

boat to be hauled, and secured at either end to rock or tree; one end

of a short hawser was hooked to the guess warp, so that it could move

freely up and down it, and a block was secured to the other end.

Through the block was rove a towing rope proper, one end secured to the

boat, and the working party on land tailing on to the other. As the

course of the river shifted, the guess warp was moved; the whole

passage being accomplished by a series of these operations. In certain

places two blocks were used, a standing block and a pendant block, a

pendant being rove through the standing block, one end secured to the

pendant block, men hauling on the other end; and through the pendant

block was rove the hauling line, one end secured to the boat, men

hauling on the other upon the bank opposite to that on which were the

pendant crew. By hauling on the hauling line, then easing the pendant,

and then hauling again on the hauling line, the boat was brought clear

of the Cataract and hauled round the corner into smooth water.

Each boat was supplied with two poles for punting and a long line for

tracking, besides oars and sails.

The whole equipment of the boats was organised by Sir Redvers Buller,

who utilised his experience of the Red River expedition, and nothing

could have better served its purpose.

The _nuggars_, or native boats, were bought near Assouan, and were then

brought up to Wady Halfa, whence they were hauled through the Cataract,

then loaded with stores and {230} sent on up river. It was of the

utmost importance that they should be dispatched as quickly as

possible; for an army moves on its stomach, and the _nuggars_ carried

the wherewithal. Their sails, being invariably rotten, were blown to

pieces in the Cataracts. They were constantly crashing into the rocks,

which made holes in them, when they were hauled by main force to the

shore, where a dock was excavated in the sand to receive them. Here

they were repaired and thence dispatched up river.

A _nuggar_ would come sailing along, when there was a sudden crash, the

bluejacket at the helm was pitched headlong into the bottom of the

boat, while the sail split into ribbons, and the native crew embraced

the mast crying that Allah was great!

[Illustration: THE AUTHOR'S METHOD OF HAULING BOATS THROUGH THE

BAB-EL-KEBIR. AA. HAWSER: BB. HAULING LINE; C. GIBGUY; J. AND I. MEN

HAULING; H. FIXED POINT; G. PURCHASE FOR SETTING TAUT. AFTER A DRAWING

MADE ON THE SPOT BY THE AUTHOR]

When the whale-boats came along, their passage was so arranged that a

regiment, or part of a regiment, was kept together; the distribution

being maintained all up the river, so that a homogeneous body could be

landed at any moment for attack or defence if necessary.

So furious was the torrent, that whoso fell into it seldom rose again,

unless he were one of the expert Dongola divers. The men coming up in

the boats, who had done and suffered much before reaching Wady Halfa,

had repaired their trousers with biscuit tins. I overheard the

following dialogue between one of these tin-bottomed weary heroes and a

comrade on the bank:

"Hullo, Bill, 'ow are you getting on?"

"Me? I've been pulling on this here ruddy river for about two years.

'Ow far is it to Gemai?"

"About fifteen miles, mate."

"O my Gawd! Is there an 'orspital there?"

Late in October, the _voyageurs_ arrived, a fine body of men, 380

strong.

Being acquainted with rapids and understanding their navigation, the

_voyageurs_ were invaluable in bringing the boats through the long and

difficult reaches of the Nile up to Wady Halfa, and from Wady Halfa up

to Korti. The {231} task could never have been accomplished in the

time, and the losses of boats would have been heavier, had it not been

for the _voyageurs_.

As the boats came through the Bab or across the portage, the

_voyageurs_ took charge of them and sailed them up to Gemai. Here they

were overhauled and fully equipped, the soldiers were embarked, and

away they went up river.

By the 6th November, 60 boats had left Gemai with the Sussex regiment

on board. The river was then falling so swiftly that a new course for

the boats must be found almost every day. Hitherto the boats had been

passed through the Cataract almost without a scratch or the loss of a

single article of gear. Now the rocks began to show through the surf

in the Bab.

A boat was smashed. We caught her lower down; and with 200 men

portaged her over a rocky hill, across the neck of land formed by the

curve of the Bab, then laid her keel upwards across two other boats,

and so floated, took her up to Gemai dockyard. I was the more pleased

with this piece of salvage, because everyone said it was impossible to

save the boat. The last nine boats, after being emptied of all gear,

were hauled clean over the rocks by main force. They came prettily

lipping through the boiling torrent from rock to rock, taking the blows

upon keel and bilge pieces, so that they were scarcely damaged.

Early in October, foreseeing that, as the water fell, the Bab-el-Kebir

would become impracticable, I had designed a scheme for a portage. The

alternative would have been to entrain the boats from Wady Halfa to

Sarras, an expedient which, as the whole of the train service was

required to carry provisions, would have involved immense delay.

My plan was to haul the boats up to the entrance of the Bab and then to

carry them across the neck of land formed by the curve of the Bab, a

distance of 2488 yards, which required 400 men, who should be divided

into sections of 40 to each boat. The boat was hauled on shore, her

masts, oars, and poles laid on the ground to serve as bearers; the boat

was {232} laid on these keel uppermost, and was then lifted and

carried, the masts, oars, and poles resting on the men's shoulders, and

other men supporting the boat by resting thwarts and gunwale on their

shoulders. My scheme was at first received with incredulity by all

except Lord Wolseley. But I made a trial trip with 30 men, and had the

boat across the portage, including six stoppages for rest, and in the

water with all her gear without a scratch, in an hour and twenty

minutes. The passage of Bab-el-Kebir, low as the water had become,

would have taken at least six hours, with great risk of disaster.

Now, having hauled the last nine boats through, over the rocks, the

portage scheme came into operation; and on the 6th November I closed

the Bab, and used the portage, by means of which alone it was made

possible to continue the supply of boats at the same rate.

Thenceforward we were able to put the boats through quicker than they

were supplied.

Many of the boats were poisonous to handle, as their matting was

infested with scorpions.

My dwelling was at first a tent at Wady Halfa, and afterwards a hut on

the bank beside the Bab-el-Kebir. It stood within six feet of the

roaring river, in a grove of mimosa. The camels lunched daily upon the

long sharp thorns of the mimosa, apparently relishing these spines as a

form of Worcester sauce.

Rising at daylight, every day I covered some thirty miles up and down

the shore of the Cataract, superintending operations from dawn till

dark. I rode one of my camels, Bimbashi or Ballyhooly or Beelzebub, or

my donkey, County Waterford, so named because the second time I

contested him I lost my seat: a political allegory. Being short of

both officers and men, my presence was required everywhere at once. By

haulage and portage a perpetual procession of whaleboats and _nuggars_

was kept moving up to the dockyard at Gemai.

From Wady Halfa to the Bab the Cataract was divided {233} into reaches,

a post being stationed at each. At the first reach were Peel of the

2nd Life Guards and 200 Dongola men; at the Naval Camp, on the second

reach, were Lieutenant Colbourne and 350 Dongola men; at Palm Tree

Camp, in the third reach, were an Egyptian officer and 100 Dongola men;

for the portage at Bab-el-Kebir I had 500 men of the 2nd Egyptian

battalion under their colonel, and another of their officers,

Shakespeare of the Marines, who had been with me in the _Thunderer_.

All along the Cataract were stationed small parties of carpenters and

sailmakers in order that damages should be repaired on the spot.

Living with me was Colonel Grant, who was in command of all the Dongola

men. Later, the Canadian _voyageurs_ camped beside my hut.

By means of the distribution of work, each section being placed under a

responsible officer, progress speedily became three times as fast.

Officers and men worked magnificently. I was proud of the old Navy.

The routine for the bluejackets was: Turn out 4.30 a.m., breakfast;

walk seven to ten miles through the desert along the river, often

having to retrace their steps to help a boat in distress; work all day

till sunset, no spell for dinner, which consisted of biscuit; at

sunset, walk seven miles back to camp, supper and turn in. The

officers walked with the men, giving their camels to the men who

suffered from sore feet. Officers and men were burned as black as the

natives.

Until my arrival, the nine naval officers and the doctor had been

living at the Naval Camp nine miles from Wady Halfa, without a single

servant or a cook. They were allowed neither servants nor the money

with which to hire natives. But nothing could exceed the kindness and

good-will of General Buller, who at once granted all my requests, and

if I found it necessary to order first and report afterwards,

sanctioned my requisitions.

I had with me in my hut for a time F. H. Pollen, who could dive and

swim better than the Dongola men, using like them a blown-up goatskin.

The constant immersion {234} brought on an attack of dysentery. I kept

him in bed, taking away his clothes so that he could not get up, and

doctored him till he recovered.

At this time I acted as doctor to the men under me. Every case of

sickness was reported to me at once. If the patient suffered from

diarrhoea I exhibited castor oil. A petty officer having been thus

treated, said he felt easier. I asked him if he would like another

dose, and he said he would like it. The same night he died. I sent

his body on a camel to the nearest medical officer, who found seventeen

date-stones in his stomach. I had the sorry consolation of knowing

that the poor fellow must have died in any event.

On the 17th November, Lord Wolseley, returning from Dongola, arrived

suddenly at Wady Halfa, where he remained for twenty-four hours,

afterwards returning to Dongola. All we knew was that he had come to

press matters forward. History relates how that on the 17th November,

Wolseley received a letter from Gordon dated 4th November, in which

Gordon wrote: "We can hold out forty days with ease; after that it will

be difficult." In reply Wolseley telegraphed from Wady Halfa: "Yours

of 4th just received 17th; the first I have had from you. I shall be

at Kasr Dongola in four days." Wolseley at the same time informed Lord

Hartington that while the news would not affect his plans, it seemed to

show that Gordon's relief could not be accomplished without fighting.

Lord Wolseley made no announcement on the subject at the time, merely

telling General Buller and myself that we were to stay where we were

for the present. Our impression was that Wolseley had abandoned the

idea of making a dash across the desert from Korti to Metemmeh.

At that date, 17th November, we had more than 200 boats ready to embark

troops at Gernai, from which twenty to thirty boats were being

dispatched daily. Nearly 200 boats had already gone, carrying

detachments of the Essex, Stafford, and Cornwall Regiments, the

Engineers, and Commissariat. About 200 more boats had still to pass

the {235} Cataract. I was very pleased with the work and behaviour of

the 2nd battalion of the Egyptian Army, which was working the portage.

I expressed my satisfaction to them, and gave every man a quarter of a

pound of native tobacco, whereupon they declared with one voice that,

"if God was willing, they would go to hell with my Excellency."

At about this time I received a private intimation from Lord Wolseley

that, when the general advance began, he intended to place me in

command of a naval brigade.

By 22nd November, 549 boats had been passed through the Second

Cataract, 166 of which had been hauled through the Bab-el-Kebir, the

rest portaged. Of the whole number of boats, only three were smashed;

and very few received any damage. Accidents were few, although the

work was dangerous. On 21st November a _voyageur_ was drowned. Three

_voyageurs_ went overboard, and two were saved by catching hold of a

rope. The third scorned the rope, relying upon his ability to swim,

and was never seen again. Up to that date five men altogether had been

drowned, two soldiers, two Canadians, and one native. Later, another

native, and he an Esneh swimmer, was drowned. The river was

extraordinarily fatal. Not one man who went under upon falling

overboard was saved. The natives always used to do their best to keep

on the surface.

Lord Wolseley was so good as warmly to commend the work done on the

Second Cataract; and Sir Redvers Buller, who at first declared the

portage scheme to be impossible of execution, generously expressed his

appreciation of its success.

Having shot a little alligator, I skinned it myself. The Arab

camel-man in my service, who spoke French, argued with me in that

language for a long time that an alligator had no tongue, but fed by

suction, like a snipe. As I had cut out the tongue of my little

alligator, I knew it had one; but my Arabian naturalist refused to be

persuaded.

At this time and afterwards while I was in Egypt, my servant,

interpreter and cook was the excellent José Salvatro, {236} a Maltese.

If he happened to be absent, I conveyed my instructions to the natives

through my French-speaking camel-man, in French. Between my French and

his French and his Arabic, I used to wonder how the meaning filtered

through; but I have a note in my diary that "it comes all right, the

natives are cheery fellows and work capitally with me, and a good smack

upon the 'sit-upon' of a lazy one keeps the whole lot going."

Towards the end of November I was living alone in my hut on the

Bab-el-Kebir, attended only by a bluejacket and the faithful José, who

ceased not from scrubbing and washing, so that I was never a day

without clean things, an inestimable comfort in that climate. Here I

was haunted by an Arab maniac who dwelt in some indiscoverable antre of

the rocks. At night I heard him howling to himself. In the daytime,

he ran here and there, his only garment being the dust he cast upon his

shaven head, crying upon Allah. He ate sand and offal, a diet which

left him hungry, for he would come to my tent for food, which I gave

him. He seemed to know me in a vague way. I gave him some calico to

cover his nakedness withal, but he tore the stuff into fragments and

ate them. One day he rushed into my tent, clawed some mutton-broth out

of the cooking-pot with his horrible hands and crammed it boiling hot

into his mouth. I was obliged forcibly to eject him lest he should

take the whole; but I had no stomach for the rest. My fear was lest he

should burst in at night and I should be obliged in self-defence to

shoot him. Eventually, José lost patience, seized a huge wood-axe, and

chased the maniac for a mile. The poor wretch ran like a hare and

vanished into his hole in the rocks.

I made a match with Colonel Brocklehurst, head of the Remount

Department, to ride my camel, the bold Bimbashi, against any one of

Brocklehurst's camels, for £25. The course was six miles long across

the desert, from Peel's Camp at the beginning of the Cataract to Sir

Evelyn Wood's flagstaff at Wady Halfa. Brocklehurst's rider was his

interpreter, {237} a lean rat of an Arab Sheikh, who was absolutely

certain he would win. His camel was the favourite of Wood's mess and

was reputed to be the best in Egypt. The betting was fifty to one

against me. But I had been riding Bimbashi 30 miles or so a day, and

we were both in fine hard condition.

The Sheikh started at a gallop. First his turban, then his goatskin

saddle-rug, carried away. Both rider and camel were blowing and

perspiring ere they had run three miles. For the first two and a half

miles I waited on the Sheikh, then came away and won in a canter half a

mile ahead. At the finish the troops lined up and made a course for

us. Thus I won my first camel race, owner up. No one was better

pleased than my old friend Colonel Brocklehurst.

Bimbashi (according to my journal) covered the six miles in a little

over eighteen minutes. That gallant steed had already been ridden the

nine miles from my camp to the starting-point; and when I rode him back

in the evening, he was so fresh that he ran away with me, grumbling

loudly, because he was offended at the sight of a dead donkey lying

wrong side up beside the railway.

I invented a saddle for camels, and I believe the pattern is still in

use. The saddle-tree is a triangular wooden framework, like the gable

of a roof. I covered the wood with oakum and canvas; abolished all

buckles, made the girths and stirrups of raw hide thongs, and put the

stirrups forward, instead of behind. Count Gleichen, in his

interesting book, _With the Camel Corps up the Nile_, relates how the

saddles and equipment served out to the Camel Corps gave the men

infinite trouble and discomfort. The unseasoned wood came to pieces,

the straps broke, the water-skins and water-bottles leaked; but one

instance of the departmental mismanagement which caused our men so much

unnecessary suffering.

By the end of November, the river was falling so swiftly that what was

smooth water yesterday was to-day a {238} frivolous series of

waterfalls with a twist in them. Every alteration in the river

involved a new device for haulage, and it would alter at three or four

places in a mile, and there were 11 miles of rapids. I was generally

able to judge by the look of the water when and where it would change

its course during the next few hours. In order to avoid the least

delay, new arrangements must be devised beforehand; and my mind was so

absorbed in these schemes, that I dreamed of them nightly. By that

time I had 1400 men working under me, whose work must be organised, and

stations allocated. The Bab-el-Kebir, that formidable rapid, was now a

grazing ground for goats.

I shifted my quarters from the Bab to Wady Halfa, as the difficulties

were now all at that end of the Cataract. Peel and Colbourne, in

command respectively of the next two reaches, found no day too long and

no work too hard.

In order to supervise the whole length of the operations as quickly as

possible, I kept one camel, Ballyhooly, at the Bab; the big white

donkey County Waterford half-way there; and Bimbashi the bold and

Beelzebub at Wady Halfa. Bimbashi could trot 16 miles in the hour. A

Bedouin Sheikh offered me £3$ for him. As I had bought him for £24 I

concluded that his vender had stolen him. I won more than his price in

the race with Colonel Brocklehurst's Sheikh. While at Wady Halfa I

rode him six miles out in the heavy sand against Sir Evelyn Wood and

his A.D.C., who rode horses, and Bimbashi beat the horses fair and

square.

Lord Wolseley sent me a telegram ordering me to form a naval brigade of

100 men and 10 officers. But as the bluejackets were of inestimable

service in getting the remainder of the boats through the Cataract, and

fitting them out at Gemai, where the soldiers embarked, he desired to

keep them where they were as long as possible. On 27th November, we

hoped to get all the boats through during the next five days. Up to

that date--the last for which I have a note--687 boats had been passed

through the Cataract, with {239} a loss of 4 only; about 27 men of all

sorts had been drowned; and 337 boats had left Gemai with troops and

stores.

On 6th December the last boat was passed through. On the same day, Sir

Evelyn Wood and Sir Redvers Buller received a telegram reporting a

block of boats at Ambigol and Dal Cataract; and I was ordered there at

a moment's notice.

On 27th September I had arrived at Wady Halfa; on 10th October I

schemed the portage; and for eight weeks since that date I had been

continuously hard at work passing the boats through the Second

Cataract; which the Arabs call "the belly of stone."

{240}