THE BATTLE OF OMDURMAN 157 As Cross and I strolled up towards that part of the line held by the British, I stopped for a few minutes at the huts which had been converted into temporary shelters for the wounded.

Everything was in its place, and the angariés and stretchers ready for prospective employment. Having just emerged from the floating hospital, Cross was naturally very weak, and one of the medical staff, having noticed this, gave him a dose of sa/ volatile. Every British _ soldier carried on him a little packet of medical requisites for “first aid to the wounded.” The packet was a marvel of condensed utility— lint, bandages, medicated silk, and other things, all compressed into a tiny parcel about three inches square.

By the time I reached the British portion of the zeriba the men were all in their places, with reserve companies in position a little to the rear. Every officer had seen to the working of his revolver, and all the Tommies had opened the breach of their Lee-Metfords and tested the magazine action—a very necessary precaution amongst the sand and dust of Egypt. The two batteries on the extreme left were drawn up, with the grim muzzles of the