When the sun rose next morning we saw that the incompetent reis had run us right on to a sandy island which is submerged when the Nile is in full flood. The whole of that day was spent in endeavouring to drag the gunboat and the barges off the sandbank. The Nasr, under the command of Lieutenant Hon. H. L. A. Hood, happened to come along, and did her best to help us, but the only hawser available snapped like a thread from the strain put upon it, and the Nasr departed. The troops were then ordered to get into the shallows and try to push the barges off. What had been foreseen by several of us happened! The soldiers managed to shove one of the barges into deep water, and then several of them, unable to check their movements, found themselves out of their depths in the strong current. One poor fellow was drowned under our eyes, and two others were just rescued in a state of utter exhaustion by natives with life-belts. The whole thing was a complete muddle, and we all felt angry at the incompetence and obstinacy which had brought about the needless loss of life.
Another night was spent on this depressing sandbank, and at dinner we became aware that something dreadful had attached itself to the vessel. We looked over the side, and from the space between the gunboat and the left-hand barge emerged the body of an Egyptian cavalry man. The corpse bobbed up and down on the swirling waters in a horribly grotesque fashion. Its spurs had caught the woodwork of the barge for a few moments and delayed its rapid passage down the Nile. I remember we remarked, "Oh, it's only a dead Gyppy," and then went back to our dinner.
Next day we made a desperate effort to get afloat, and finally succeeded. Instead, however, of being the first to reach Atbara Camp, and to secure the earliest train service to Wady Halfa, we had had the mortification of seeing the Seaforth Highlanders pass us the day before.
At Nasri Island I landed to get the tent and other baggage which we had left behind us on leaving Wad Hamed, but was informed that the five ghyassas containing officers' luggage—and our own unfortunate belongings amongst it—had capsized two days before. My precious tent, two Gladstone bags, and a case of stores lay fathoms deep in the Nile, and all the consolation I had was to draw up a pathetic claim for compensation from the impecunious Egyptian War Office.
By the time we arrived at the Atbara, Cross's illness had increased, and his temperature had gone up to 100°. The army surgeon on board the Metemmeh advised him to stay in hospital at the Atbara for a few days before proceeding to Cairo, and the officer in charge of the hospital gave the same advice. I had already heard from another medical man that he did not detect any traces of typhoid symptoms in Cross; so one thought that he was merely suffering from the common feverishness which comes from a "touch of the sun," and passes off after a few days. I remained at the Atbara for a night, and then went on with the Warwicks to Wady Halfa, leaving a servant with Cross, who had arranged to follow by the next train in two days' time.
The remainder of our homeward journey was comparatively uneventful. The bad luck, however, which seemed to follow the Warwicks delayed us for twenty-four hours on our journey to Wady Halfa, for the wretched engines which dragged our cattle pens (first class) and baggage trucks (third class) repeatedly broke down from overheating and lack of grease.
During a short wait at Shellal my servant called my attention to a woman on the bank, who was apparently in great distress, and told me that she was weeping because she had been divorced by her husband. Such cases are often very cruel, for Mohammedan law allows a husband to write his wife a bill of divorcement without pretext of any sort. At the same time, he is bound to maintain her for three months, and her dowry is restored. Many good Moslems deplore the obsolete character of their divorce laws, which have outlived their usefulness. Still, it must not be forgotten that in one respect Moslem wives have for centuries enjoyed a privilege which was not possessed by Englishwomen until a recent date, namely, the absolute control of their own money and property. Female education, too, which is increasing rapidly in the towns, and later on will spread to the country districts, will doubtless serve to improve the status and welfare of native women. Monogamy is already almost universal with the fellahin, and is steadily gaining ground amongst the educated classes. A good deal of false sentiment is often expended by good people in England over the lot of their Mohammedan sisters, but they may rest assured that women all the world over have the amelioration of their condition very largely in their own hands. Further, a very slight acquaintance at first hand with Oriental countries will show one that Moslem home life is full of happiness, and that nowhere in the world is greater devotion lavished by parents upon their children.
At Luxor the blessings of civilisation met us again, in the shape of a nice breakfast at the hotel and a big bath. Most of us had slept more or less in our ordinary clothes for several weeks, and everyone, from the Colonel downwards, wallowed joyfully in an unlimited supply of warm water. As we sat at breakfast, someone told me that a camel had died just near the hotel from the bite of an asp. The snake, a little creature some eight inches long, was lying under the sand, according to its wont, with its head just above the ground. The poor camel trod on it, and was bitten in the foot. It speedily died, swollen to nearly double its ordinary size, and the natives lit a fire over its carcass. The Arabs dread the little asp terribly, and its bite is nearly always fatal. A special antitoxin has been prepared by the Institut Pasteur from the serum of horses bitten by poisonous snakes. A subcutaneous injection of ten cubic centimetres of this fluid is alleged to be a sure specific against the bite of any known species of venomous land-snake. But this preparation is practically useless in the Sudan, as it loses its efficacy if much exposed to light or to a high degree of heat. Nor has it, so far as I know, ever yet been tried in the case of any human being bitten by a deadly snake. I took some with me last year when exploring in Sokotra with the late Mr. Theodore Bent, but despite the glowing accounts of the efficacy of dowa Inglizi and offers of large bakshish, the faith of the natives was never robust enough to allow them to voluntarily submit to a snake bite for experimental purposes.
On the final stage of our railway journey from Luxor to Cairo, Lieutenant Clerk and I shared a carriage between us, and were extremely comfortable. Ali redoubled his efforts in the cooking line, and for our final meal in the train, to which we invited a military chaplain, the Rev. E. H. Pulling, we used up all our remaining tins, and dined off pâté de foie gras, a curried blend of prawns and chicken, and stewed apricots—a good instance of what a clever Arab servant can turn out with a spirit-lamp and a couple of tin saucepans in a crowded third-class carriage.