FROM CAIRO TO THE ATBARA 3

one knew personally of tropical travel, and what one gathered from various accounts of

the Sudan, one realised that the forthcoming campaign would be in the Lancer’s words, already become historical, ‘no bloomin’ pic-

nic.” Accordingly I laid before Cross graphic. and horrible pictures of sandstorms and sun-

stroke and the other unpleasantnesses which one might expect to meet amid the torrid plains of the Sudan. Would that my advice had been acted upon and his bright young

life preserved! As it was, my friend secured

a permit through the editor of the Manchester

Guardian, and rapidly made his preparations for departure. Our last meeting before we

left Charing Cross was at Bletchley Junction, and over some railway tea and a couple of ‘buns we made our final arrangements.

The great difficulty which I had to surmount before leaving England arose from a gigantic heap of examination papers which went far towards filling up my college rooms. The

limits of time imposed by the authorities who preside over the destinies of University and other examinations appear sometimes to the fevered imagination of the anxious employé