them even went in for the luxury of having three shooting irons, two
revolvers and a double-barrel slug pistol, so that when either of the
weapons got hot while he was holding Baggara horsemen at bay, there
was always one cooling, ready to hand. He also, which I believe is a
phenomenal record with any campaigner, took with him thirteen pairs of
riding breeches, a half dozen razors and an ice machine. Even our
commander-in-chief, when campaigning, denies himself more than two
shirts and never travels with ice machines. But the thirteen pairs
impressed me considerably. Why thirteen, more than fifteen, or any
other number? I came to the conclusion that my colleague must
certainly be a member of that mystic body the "Thirteen Club," and as
he had to bring in the odd number somewhere to keep the club fresh in
his memory, he occasionally sat upon it.

I found, after all, there was some wisdom in his eccentricity, for,
when riding the camel, mounted on the rough saddle of the country, I
often wished that I had my friend's forethought, and I should have
been glad to have supplemented mine with his odd number. No doubt my
colleague's idea in having such a variety of nether garments was to
use them respectively, on a similar principle to the revolvers, when
he rode in hot haste with his vivid account of the latest battle to
the telegraph office.

But, unfortunately, this recent campaign did not, after all,
necessitate these elaborate preparations, for there were no dervishes
for us to shoot at or descriptions of bloody battles to be
telegraphed. At all events, the cloudy ammonia and the thirteen
breeches, with the assistance of a silken sash--a different color for
each day of the week--made the brightest and smartest looking little
man in camp. However, when I reflect on this new style of war
correspondent, who, I forgot to mention, also carried with him two
tents, a couple of beds, sundry chairs and tables, a silver-mounted
dressing case, two baths, and a gross of toothpicks, and I think of
the severe simplicity of the old style of campaigning when a famous
correspondent who is still on the warpath, and who always sees the
fighting if there be any, on one arduous campaign took with him the
modest outfit of a tooth brush and a cake of carbolic soap, I joyfully
feel that with the younger generation our profession is keeping pace
with the luxury of the times.

FROM BERBER TO SUAKIM.

Toward the end of the campaign four coll