s of smoke and flames
darting upwards to the sky.

Just as we were leaving I was made over to another master, Idris Wad el
Hashmi. When I arrived at his house, I found everything ready for the
journey; numbers of well-bound books were lying about on the floor. I
picked one up, and found it was 'The Soldier's Pocket Book,' by Lord
Wolseley. I would like to have searched amongst these books for a diary,
but they turned me out: Idris had taken them out of some good leather
trunks, which he had filled with his own effects. Three days after the
Mahdi's departure my master and I quitted El Obeid. The road to Rahad
was one uninterrupted stream of human beings--men, women, and children;
camels carrying the household goods, on the top of which were fastened
angaribs, on which women were seated; oxen and donkeys, all heavily
laden; numbers of Arabs were driving along their flocks with them; here
one would see a camel fallen prone under its heavy load, there a child
or a slave vainly seeking in the crowd for his lost master. Of course I
had to walk, and to act as a camel-driver as well, subject to continual
insult and threatening. I moved along as best I could; the Arabs
applauded my master's good sense in making me his camel-driver, and
urged that I should carry a load as well. We had to halt frequently, as
the camels were so heavily laden.

The burning sun and fatigue were terribly oppressive, and it is always a
wonder to me how I escaped sunstroke. As to food, I had a share of my
master's horses' meal. In the evening I was obliged to clean the dokhn,
which was given to the horse, and the pangs of hunger made me covet even
this, while I was obliged to ask my master's slave to occasionally give
me a gulp of water; indeed, this slave pitied my wretched state.

It took us three days to reach Rahad, though, under ordinary
circumstances, the journey could easily be performed in one and a half
days. The burning sand had blistered my feet, and caused my legs to
swell. One day I saw the unfortunate King Adam, of Tagalla, riding by;
he was mounted on a mule, and his feet heavily chained. They thought
that the sight of his native mountains might make him wish to desert.
Soon after his arrival at Rahad the poor king died, heart-broken, and to
him death must have come as a happy deliverance; while to us, who also
longed for it, death would never come.

Rahad is situated in a depression, which in winter becomes a swamp; the
water remains