232 THE DOWNFALL OF THE DERVISHES favourite hymn was played, and as its cadence fell upon the ears, one’s thoughts recalled the words of the exquisite verses— “TI fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless, Mls have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh abide with me!” How truly must the spirit of these lines have been felt by Gordon, that noble and sincere Christian, deserted by man, yet doubtless sustained by the abiding presence of his Master in life and death.

During our brief stay at Omdurman every variety of loot was hawked about the camp for sale. Huge shields of hippopotamus hide, spears, swords, old rifles, Mahdist coins, and other trophies of battle or pillage, found ready purchasers. A negro paid me a visit who was clad in chain mail, cut rather after the fashion of a dress coat. There was, indeed, quite a flavour of the Margate sands about the appearance of this Ethiopian, with his striped cotton trousers and his metallic coat, the tails of which, like those of Burnand’s hero, “ positively swept the ground.” These suits of mail were beautifully made of steel rings, and could