Tales of Adventure and Medical Life
It was in the days when the tide of Mandism, which had swept in such a
flood from the great Lakes and Darfur to the confines of Egypt, had at
last come to its full, and even begun, as some hoped, to show signs of a
turn. At its outset it had been terrible. It had engulfed Hicks's army,
swept over Gordon and Khartoum, rolled behind the British forces as they
retired down the river, and finally cast up a spray of raiding parties as
far north as Assouan. Then it found other channels to east and to west,
to Central Africa and to Abyssinia, and retired a little on the side of
Egypt. For ten years there ensued a lull, during which the frontier
garrisons looked out upon those distant, blue hills of Dongola. Behind
the violet mists which draped them, lay a land of blood and horror. From
time to time some adventurer went south towards those haze-girt
mountains, tempted by stories of gum and ivory, but none ever returned.
Once a mutilated Egyptian and once a Greek woman, mad with thirst and
fear, made their way to the lines. They were the only exports of that
country of darkness. Sometimes the sunset would turn those distant mists
into a bank of crimson, and the dark mountains would rise from that
sinister reek like islands in a sea of blood. It seemed a grim symbol in
the southern heaven when seen from the fort-capped hills by Wady Halfa.
Ten years of lust in Khartoum, ten years of silent work in Cairo, and
then all was ready, and it was time for civilisation to take a trip south
once more, travelling, as her wont is, in an armoured train. Everything
was ready, down to the last pack-saddle of the last camel, and yet no one
suspected it, for an unconstitutional Government has its advantages. A
great administrator had argued, and managed, and cajoled; a great soldier
had organised and planned, and made piastres do the work of pounds. And
then one night these two master spirits met and clasped hands, and the
soldier vanished away upon some business of his own. And just at that
very time Bimbashi Hilary Joyce, seconded from the Royal Mallow
Fusiliers, and temporarily attached to the Ninth Soudanese, made his
first appearance in Cairo.
Napoleon had said, and Hilary Joyce had noted, that great reputations are
only to be made in the East. Here he was in the East with four tin cases
of baggage, a Wilkinson sword, a Bond's slug-throwing pistol, and a copy
of "Green's Introduction to the Study of Arabic". With such a start, and
the blood of youth running hot in his veins, everything seemed easy. He
was a little frightened of the General, he had heard stories of his
sternness to young officers, but with tact and suavity he hoped for the
best. So, leaving his effects at Shepheard's Hotel, he reported himself
at headquarters.
It was not the General, but the head of the Intelligence Department who
received him, the Chief being still absent upon that business which had
called him. Hilary Joyce found himself in the presence of a short,
thick-set officer, with a gentle voice and a placid expression which
covered a remarkably acute and energetic spirit. With that quiet smile
and guileless manner he had undercut and outwitted the most cunning of
Orientals. He stood, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at the
new-corner.
"I heard that you had come. Sorry the Chief isn't here to see you. Gone
up to the frontier, you know."
"My regiment is at Wady Haifa. I suppose, sir, that I should' report
myself there at once?"
1016265112
flood from the great Lakes and Darfur to the confines of Egypt, had at
last come to its full, and even begun, as some hoped, to show signs of a
turn. At its outset it had been terrible. It had engulfed Hicks's army,
swept over Gordon and Khartoum, rolled behind the British forces as they
retired down the river, and finally cast up a spray of raiding parties as
far north as Assouan. Then it found other channels to east and to west,
to Central Africa and to Abyssinia, and retired a little on the side of
Egypt. For ten years there ensued a lull, during which the frontier
garrisons looked out upon those distant, blue hills of Dongola. Behind
the violet mists which draped them, lay a land of blood and horror. From
time to time some adventurer went south towards those haze-girt
mountains, tempted by stories of gum and ivory, but none ever returned.
Once a mutilated Egyptian and once a Greek woman, mad with thirst and
fear, made their way to the lines. They were the only exports of that
country of darkness. Sometimes the sunset would turn those distant mists
into a bank of crimson, and the dark mountains would rise from that
sinister reek like islands in a sea of blood. It seemed a grim symbol in
the southern heaven when seen from the fort-capped hills by Wady Halfa.
Ten years of lust in Khartoum, ten years of silent work in Cairo, and
then all was ready, and it was time for civilisation to take a trip south
once more, travelling, as her wont is, in an armoured train. Everything
was ready, down to the last pack-saddle of the last camel, and yet no one
suspected it, for an unconstitutional Government has its advantages. A
great administrator had argued, and managed, and cajoled; a great soldier
had organised and planned, and made piastres do the work of pounds. And
then one night these two master spirits met and clasped hands, and the
soldier vanished away upon some business of his own. And just at that
very time Bimbashi Hilary Joyce, seconded from the Royal Mallow
Fusiliers, and temporarily attached to the Ninth Soudanese, made his
first appearance in Cairo.
Napoleon had said, and Hilary Joyce had noted, that great reputations are
only to be made in the East. Here he was in the East with four tin cases
of baggage, a Wilkinson sword, a Bond's slug-throwing pistol, and a copy
of "Green's Introduction to the Study of Arabic". With such a start, and
the blood of youth running hot in his veins, everything seemed easy. He
was a little frightened of the General, he had heard stories of his
sternness to young officers, but with tact and suavity he hoped for the
best. So, leaving his effects at Shepheard's Hotel, he reported himself
at headquarters.
It was not the General, but the head of the Intelligence Department who
received him, the Chief being still absent upon that business which had
called him. Hilary Joyce found himself in the presence of a short,
thick-set officer, with a gentle voice and a placid expression which
covered a remarkably acute and energetic spirit. With that quiet smile
and guileless manner he had undercut and outwitted the most cunning of
Orientals. He stood, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at the
new-corner.
"I heard that you had come. Sorry the Chief isn't here to see you. Gone
up to the frontier, you know."
"My regiment is at Wady Haifa. I suppose, sir, that I should' report
myself there at once?"
Tales of Adventure and Medical Life
It was in the days when the tide of Mandism, which had swept in such a
flood from the great Lakes and Darfur to the confines of Egypt, had at
last come to its full, and even begun, as some hoped, to show signs of a
turn. At its outset it had been terrible. It had engulfed Hicks's army,
swept over Gordon and Khartoum, rolled behind the British forces as they
retired down the river, and finally cast up a spray of raiding parties as
far north as Assouan. Then it found other channels to east and to west,
to Central Africa and to Abyssinia, and retired a little on the side of
Egypt. For ten years there ensued a lull, during which the frontier
garrisons looked out upon those distant, blue hills of Dongola. Behind
the violet mists which draped them, lay a land of blood and horror. From
time to time some adventurer went south towards those haze-girt
mountains, tempted by stories of gum and ivory, but none ever returned.
Once a mutilated Egyptian and once a Greek woman, mad with thirst and
fear, made their way to the lines. They were the only exports of that
country of darkness. Sometimes the sunset would turn those distant mists
into a bank of crimson, and the dark mountains would rise from that
sinister reek like islands in a sea of blood. It seemed a grim symbol in
the southern heaven when seen from the fort-capped hills by Wady Halfa.
Ten years of lust in Khartoum, ten years of silent work in Cairo, and
then all was ready, and it was time for civilisation to take a trip south
once more, travelling, as her wont is, in an armoured train. Everything
was ready, down to the last pack-saddle of the last camel, and yet no one
suspected it, for an unconstitutional Government has its advantages. A
great administrator had argued, and managed, and cajoled; a great soldier
had organised and planned, and made piastres do the work of pounds. And
then one night these two master spirits met and clasped hands, and the
soldier vanished away upon some business of his own. And just at that
very time Bimbashi Hilary Joyce, seconded from the Royal Mallow
Fusiliers, and temporarily attached to the Ninth Soudanese, made his
first appearance in Cairo.
Napoleon had said, and Hilary Joyce had noted, that great reputations are
only to be made in the East. Here he was in the East with four tin cases
of baggage, a Wilkinson sword, a Bond's slug-throwing pistol, and a copy
of "Green's Introduction to the Study of Arabic". With such a start, and
the blood of youth running hot in his veins, everything seemed easy. He
was a little frightened of the General, he had heard stories of his
sternness to young officers, but with tact and suavity he hoped for the
best. So, leaving his effects at Shepheard's Hotel, he reported himself
at headquarters.
It was not the General, but the head of the Intelligence Department who
received him, the Chief being still absent upon that business which had
called him. Hilary Joyce found himself in the presence of a short,
thick-set officer, with a gentle voice and a placid expression which
covered a remarkably acute and energetic spirit. With that quiet smile
and guileless manner he had undercut and outwitted the most cunning of
Orientals. He stood, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at the
new-corner.
"I heard that you had come. Sorry the Chief isn't here to see you. Gone
up to the frontier, you know."
"My regiment is at Wady Haifa. I suppose, sir, that I should' report
myself there at once?"
flood from the great Lakes and Darfur to the confines of Egypt, had at
last come to its full, and even begun, as some hoped, to show signs of a
turn. At its outset it had been terrible. It had engulfed Hicks's army,
swept over Gordon and Khartoum, rolled behind the British forces as they
retired down the river, and finally cast up a spray of raiding parties as
far north as Assouan. Then it found other channels to east and to west,
to Central Africa and to Abyssinia, and retired a little on the side of
Egypt. For ten years there ensued a lull, during which the frontier
garrisons looked out upon those distant, blue hills of Dongola. Behind
the violet mists which draped them, lay a land of blood and horror. From
time to time some adventurer went south towards those haze-girt
mountains, tempted by stories of gum and ivory, but none ever returned.
Once a mutilated Egyptian and once a Greek woman, mad with thirst and
fear, made their way to the lines. They were the only exports of that
country of darkness. Sometimes the sunset would turn those distant mists
into a bank of crimson, and the dark mountains would rise from that
sinister reek like islands in a sea of blood. It seemed a grim symbol in
the southern heaven when seen from the fort-capped hills by Wady Halfa.
Ten years of lust in Khartoum, ten years of silent work in Cairo, and
then all was ready, and it was time for civilisation to take a trip south
once more, travelling, as her wont is, in an armoured train. Everything
was ready, down to the last pack-saddle of the last camel, and yet no one
suspected it, for an unconstitutional Government has its advantages. A
great administrator had argued, and managed, and cajoled; a great soldier
had organised and planned, and made piastres do the work of pounds. And
then one night these two master spirits met and clasped hands, and the
soldier vanished away upon some business of his own. And just at that
very time Bimbashi Hilary Joyce, seconded from the Royal Mallow
Fusiliers, and temporarily attached to the Ninth Soudanese, made his
first appearance in Cairo.
Napoleon had said, and Hilary Joyce had noted, that great reputations are
only to be made in the East. Here he was in the East with four tin cases
of baggage, a Wilkinson sword, a Bond's slug-throwing pistol, and a copy
of "Green's Introduction to the Study of Arabic". With such a start, and
the blood of youth running hot in his veins, everything seemed easy. He
was a little frightened of the General, he had heard stories of his
sternness to young officers, but with tact and suavity he hoped for the
best. So, leaving his effects at Shepheard's Hotel, he reported himself
at headquarters.
It was not the General, but the head of the Intelligence Department who
received him, the Chief being still absent upon that business which had
called him. Hilary Joyce found himself in the presence of a short,
thick-set officer, with a gentle voice and a placid expression which
covered a remarkably acute and energetic spirit. With that quiet smile
and guileless manner he had undercut and outwitted the most cunning of
Orientals. He stood, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at the
new-corner.
"I heard that you had come. Sorry the Chief isn't here to see you. Gone
up to the frontier, you know."
"My regiment is at Wady Haifa. I suppose, sir, that I should' report
myself there at once?"
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Tales of Adventure and Medical Life
Tales of Adventure and Medical Life
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940013684508 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | WDS Publishing |
| Publication date: | 01/22/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 180 KB |
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