1 8 WITH THE CAMEL CORPS UP THE NILE.

It was on a hot Sunday afternoon, when, on

turning a bend in the river, not far from the wonderfu

temple of Abu Simbl, the Arab in the bows shouted

that there was a big crocodile asleep on a mud-bank

in the middle of the river. B accordingly got his

rifle, and, as the awakening brute slid lazily into

the water, plumbed him under the right shoulder at

a distance of quite 130 yards a first-rate shot. The

beast stopped at the water's edge, and began to

lash his flaily tail about. By this time the excite-

ment amongst the sailors was immense ; the sporting

old captain stopped the steamer, a boat was manned,

and we pulled off to the bank, I having charge of

the rifle wherewith to finish him. He was already

half in the water, and the difficulty was to get his

head out, to let me have a fair shot at his eye

which, I had learnt in my youthful days, was his

only vulnerable point. The boat-hook was the only

instrument to haul him back by, so half-a-dozen

niggers manned it, hooked it into a corner of his

jaw, and tugged his great head round for the coup

de grace. Even with a second bullet in the place