The evening times., 1898-11-05
A SANDSTONE.

Our camp consists of nine tents, scat
tered among dry and stunted acacias, on
which the camels feed with evident rel
ish, writes the London Standards war
correspondent from the scene of the Brit
ish operations on the Nile. Beating down
upon this arid plain Is the fierce sun.
which gives a temperature of 120 degrees
in the shade. The heat and glare are in
tolerable. At midday one lies sweltering
and gasping under coating of sweat
and sand; eyes, ears and nose are choked
with dust, while flies, gnats and ants
seek out the tenderest parts. There is no
escape from these conditions.
AT first one sighs for breath of wind
to cool the burning air. a binding, suf-
locating cloud of dust springs from the
earth, sweeps over the camp and searches
out every nook and Granny in hut and
tent. 1t penetrates the most secret re-
cesses of trunks and boxes, mingles with
food and drink and makes sticky COM
pound of sweat and mud, under which the
skin smarts and stings. Evening and
morning are numbered among the de
lights of the desert. Under normal cOndi-
tions they are pleasant enough, but, un-
happily, they are too often attended in
these parts with violent storms of wind
and sand devils. These devils are
whirlwinds of dust that gather volume
and force as they sweep along, cutting
fresh particles from the matrix of sand
stone rock and driving their myriads of
atoms to swell the dust of the desert.
During the last few days we have had
several opportunities of observing this
process of nature. Last night my blan-
kets were spread under the veranda OF
the tent. 1t was beautiful night. The
air was calm. the sky was clear and the
moon cast dark shadows of palm and
mimosa on the white plain. Under these
softening influences of light and sound
the desert lost its terrors and one looked
dreamily on the picture, until a solemn
silence fell upon the camp and sleep seal
ed the eyelids. A moment later and the
scene was changed. A breath of hot wind
as from furnace, brought every tented
sleeper To his feet with gasp.
The sand devil ragged for half an hour
without damage. save TO tent pegs. which
flew about rather dangerously. Every mo-
| ment / expected the tent to collapse and
go scudding before the storm. But 1t held
fast and, covering my head with a blan-
| ket, / lay down, smothered in dust. while
the struggle between canvas and sand
went On Win growing HeFceneSS- Jhe ser
wants, who lay on the sand, slept undis-
| turbed until aroused by their masters
Then active operations began and the
sharp click of mallets falling on tent
pegs was heard through the storm. The
| tent next to mine was the first 10 go
1t jeIl or rather glided 10 the ground and
presently there emerged from the wreck
/ age three figures. Finding the position
! untenable. | made virtue of necessity
/ and struck my tent before further damage
/ could be done. Having made fast the
! canvas over my baggage and furniture
/ drew my bed into the open and. wrapping
/ myself in blanket, lay sweltering and
! choking until the storm abated At dawn
/ We We're able TO remove the traces of this
/ experience. The tents were soon pitched
/ furniture, clothes and boxes were dug out
of the sand and presently Abdul Hassan
Mahomed and the other servants were
making kitchen and lighting fires under
l cover Of some dead bushes