day the numbers in camp had been gradually growing larger, fresh
batches of troops arriving either on camels or in boats. A whole fleet
of these "whalers" lay moored along the bank of the Nile; the usual
quiet of the river being continually broken by the dog-like panting of
steam launches hurrying up and down the stream.

Friendly natives, clad in loose shirts and skull-caps, wandered through
the lines, gazing wonderingly at all they saw; while in strange
contrast to their unintelligible jabberings, rose the familiar _patois_
of the barrack-room, or snatches of some popular music-hall song hummed
or whistled by every urchin in the streets of London.

The concentration of the expedition had now been almost completed, and
the chief topic of conversation was the immediate prospect of a desert
march to Shendy.

But to return to our commencement, Christmas Day it was; and however
difficult it might have been to realize this as far as the weather was
concerned, the fact had, to a certain extent, been impressed upon the
minds of the men by the supplementing of their ordinary dinner rations
with a gallant attempt at plum-pudding, manufactured for the most part
out of boiled dates.

Two men, who had just partaken of this delicacy, were lying stretched
out full length under a shady tree, their pith helmets brought well
forward over their eyes, their grey serge jumpers thrown open, and
pipes in their mouths. To see them now, with their tattered nether
garments, stubbly chins, and sunburnt faces, from which the skin was
peeling off in patches, one could hardly have recognized in them the
same smart soldiers who paraded a few months ago on the barrack square
at Melchester. Yet such they were, as the reader will soon discover by
the opening remarks of their conversation.

"This weather don't seem very seasonable. I wonder whether it's frost
and snow away home at Brenlands."

"Yes; I wonder if the reservoir at Hornalby is frozen. We used to go
skating there when I was at school. It seems a jolly long time ago
now!"

"It don't seem three years ago to me since you enlisted. I never
thought you'd have stayed so long."

"Didn't you? When my mind's made up, it's apt to stick to it, Joe, my
boy. Besides, I had no prospect of anything better."

There was a pause, during which the two comrades (who, from the
foregoing, will have been recognized as our hero and Joe Crouch)
continued to puff away at their pipes in silence, l