This he crunched in his mouth, while he gazed at my wife with an expression of affection; but he could not speak.

I had him well washed and dressed in clean clothes, that had been kept most carefully during the voyage, to be worn on our entree to Khartoum.

He was laid down to sleep upon a clean mat, and my wife gave him a lump of sugar to moisten his mouth and relieve his thickly-furred tongue.

His pulse was very weak, and his skin cold.

"Poor Saat," said my wife, "his life hangs upon a thread.