Page:Harris Dickson--Old Reliable in Africa.djvu/190

 flashing their spears beside him. That's what these sacred relics mean. You are planning to visit Omdurman to-morrow? Look at the people, look at the place, smell it—but more than that, feel it, feel the sullen mystery of its heat—its mad people—and then tell me whether you would care to see them roused."

The next afternoon Colonel Spottiswoode and McDonald, with Zack and Said, climbed aboard the little toy tram-car which clatters to the ferry, and crossed into Omdurman, that mud-and-dung city to which the Khalifah enjoined a pilgrimage, forbidding the age-old pilgrimage to Mecca. It was a city of pillage and massacre and mysterious death. In narrow alleys the artisans toiled; across its scorching spaces the fluttering robes moved swiftly. It was a holy city of most unholy odors and stagnant wells; a labyrinth where anything might happen; a city of ominous name, even for Africa.

Before dusk fell again upon Khartum, the American had returned and rushed to General Durham's headquarters. He passed through the garden where they had dined the previous night; in daylight it seemed dingy and glary. The general sat inside at his desk.

"General, I beg pardon for interrupting you,