Richarn won my heart by his careful nursing of the boy, who had been his companion through years of hardship.

We arrived at the village of Wat Shely, only three days from Khartoum.

Saat was dying.

The night passed, and I expected that all would be over before sunrise; but as morning dawned a change had taken place; the burning fever had left him, and, although raised blotches had broken out upon his chest and various parts of his body, he appeared much better.

We now gave him stimulants; a teaspoonful of araki that we had bought at Fashooder was administered every ten minutes on a lump of sugar.