Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1896-10-03
PART I.

Tba-a u,,s only one little feathery clump
Of don, Mains in all that great wilderness
of black hooks and orange sand. IL stoou
high on the bank. and below 1t the Drown
Nile swirled swiftly toward the AmDisoie
cataract, fitting little frill OF foam rouho
each of the boulders which studded us sur.
face. Above, out of a naked blue SKY lhe
sun was beating down upon the sano' anu
m again from the sand under the brtms
Of the pitch hats of the horsemen with inc
scorching glare of blast furnace. 1t had
risen so high that the shadows OF the
horses were no larger than themselves.
"Whewr cried Mortimer. hopping his
forehead. you'd pay five shillings for this
at the hummums."
Precisely" said Scott. But you are not
asked to ride twenty miles in Turkish
bath with field glass and revolver anu
a water bottle and a whole Christmas
treeful of things dangling from you. The
hot house at Kew is excellent as a con-
servatory. but not adapted for exhibitions
upon the horizontal bar. 1 vote for camp
in the palm grove and a halt until even
Ing"
Mortimer rose on his stirrups and looked
hard to the southwark. Everywhere were
the same black burned rocks and deep
orange sand. At one spot only an inter-
mittent line appeared to have been cut
through the rugged spurs which ran down
to the river. 1t was the bed of the old rail-
way, long destroyed by the Arabs, but now
in process of reconstruction by the advanc-
ing Egyptians. There was no other sign of
mans handiwork in all that desolate scene
It's palm trees or nothing, said Scott
We'll, / suppose we must; and yet
grudge every hour until We reach the force
up What would our editors say If We were
late for the action?'
My dear chap, an old bird like you
doesn't need to be told that no sane modern
general would ever attack until the press
is up"
You don't mean that?" said young
Anerley- Il thought We were looked upon
as an unmitgated nuisance"
Newspaper correspondents and travel
ing gentlemen and all that tribe of useless
drones-being an extract from Lord Wolse-
ley's Soldiers Pocket Book " cried Scott.
I'VE know all about that, Aneriey'-and he
winked behind his blue ectacles. IF
there were going to be a battle We should
very soon have an escort of cavalry to
hurry us up. I've been in fifteen, and 1
never one where they mad not ar
ranged for a reporters table,
That's very WELL but he enemy may be
less considerable" said Mortimer.
They are not strong enough to force q
battle
"A skirmish, Them
Much more likely to be a raid upon the
rear In that case We are just where we
so we arei What a score over Reuters
man up with the advance, Well, We'll out
span and have our tiffin under the palms. "
There were three of them, and they stood
for three great London dailies. Reuter- was
thirty miles ahead; two evening pennies
upon camels were twenty miles behind.
And among them were represented the
eyes and the ears of the public-the great
silent millions and millions who had paid
for everything and who waited patiently
to know the result of the outlay.
They were remarkable men, these body
servants of the press; two of them already
veterans in the camps, the other setting
out upon his first campaign, and full OF
Difference for his famous comrades.
This first one. who had just dismounted
from his bay polo pony, was Mortimer, OF
the Intelligence straight and hawk
faced, with kharki tunic and riding breech
es, drab putties. a scarlet cummerbund. and
skin tanned to the red of a Scotch fiji
by and wind. ard notified by the mos
quito and the sand fly. The other-smal
quick, mercurial, with blue-black curl
ing beard and hair, a fly switch for
ever Ticking in his left hand-was
Scott OF the Courier, who had come
through more dangers and brought of
more brilliant scoops than any mar
In the profession, save the eminen