rank and file. But he made up in
enthusiasm what he lacked in military precision; for, having
appropriated the arms and accoutrements of the first man who fell, he
rushed to the front, and was right in the van of the victorious charge
that swept the enemy from their rocky stronghold.

Dan Murphy was the hero of the Canadian voyageurs for the remainder of
the journey. When the six months' term for which they had signed had
expired, and he and Scotty resolved to go on to the end, there were
many who remained with the column because the former chose to act as an
independent recruiting officer. If he was going to Khartoum, then they
would follow, for where Murphy was there must surely be some fun.

But the end of the journey came sooner than was expected. A little
above Kirbekan General Brackenbury received the tragic news of the fall
of Khartoum and the martyred Gordon's death. Just a few days earlier,
just a little more haste, and the gallant heart that had looked bravely
into the face of despair for so many weary weeks, still patient, still
hoping, might have seen the answer to his prayers! But the succors
were too late by less than a week. Gordon was murdered, Khartoum was
fallen, and at Huella the baffled column received orders to return.

If the toil of descending the Nile was not equal to that experienced in
the ascent, the skill and vigilance required of the pilots was even
greater. Only a few days' journey had been completed when the column
halted at the head of a long series of cataracts. Here the Dongolese
boatmen had been put to their utmost strength to haul up the boats
through the boiling, writhing channel, and the question was, could any
boat go down it and live? General Brackenbury gave orders that none
but the Canadians should be entrusted with the descent; so, early in
the morning, the voyageurs walked down the stream to survey it. They
pronounced the channel bad, but not impossible, while one old St.
Lawrence pilot sniffed contemptuously and declared that the Lachine
would make this puddle look "seek."

But the Nile cataract was bad enough, as Scotty realised, when he found
himself among the first called to go down. Dan was his bowman and the
stroke oar was a hardy old Scotch sergeant. Upon both of these he
could rely with certainty. Nevertheless, as he steered out into the
middle of the river, he realised that they had good need of all their
courage and resource. On an overhanging rock