that a 'friendly Power' had, unprovoked, endeavoured to rob
them of the fruits of their victories. They now realised that while
they had been devoting themselves to great military operations, in broad
daylight and the eye of the world, and prosecuting an enterprise
on which they had set their hearts, other operations--covert and
deceitful--had been in progress in the heart of the Dark Continent,
designed solely for the mischievous and spiteful object of depriving
them of the produce of their labours. And they firmly set their faces
against such behaviour.

First of all, Great Britain was determined to have Fashoda or fight;
and as soon as this was made clear, the French were willing to give way.
Fashoda was a miserable swamp, of no particular value to them. Marchand,
Lord Salisbury's 'explorer in difficulties upon the Upper Nile,'
was admitted by the French Minister to be merely an 'emissary of
civilisation.' It was not worth their while to embark on the hazards and
convulsions of a mighty war for either swamp or emissary. Besides, the
plot had failed. Guy Fawkes, true to his oath and his orders, had indeed
reached the vault; but the other conspirators were less devoted. The
Abyssinians had held aloof. The negro tribes gazed with wonder on the
strangers, but had no intention of fighting for them. The pride and
barbarism of the Khalifa rejected all overtures and disdained to
discriminate between the various breeds of the accursed 'Turks.'
Finally, the victory of Omdurman and its forerunner--the Desert
Railway--had revolutionised the whole situation in the Nile valley.
After some weeks of tension, the French Government consented to withdraw
their expedition from the region of the Upper Nile.

Meanwhile events were passing at Fashoda. The town, the site of which
had been carefully selected by the old Egyptian Government, is situated
on the left bank of the river, on a gentle slope of ground which rises
about four feet above the level of the Nile at full flood. During the
rainy season, which lasts from the end of June until the end of October,
the surrounding country is one vast swamp, and Fashoda itself becomes an
island. It is not, however, without its importance; for it is the only
spot on the west shore for very many miles where landing from the river
is possible. All the roads--mere camel-tracks--from Lower Kordofan meet
at the Government post, but are only passable in the dry season. The
soil is fertile, and, since t