Those who were to go with General Stewart's force were in high spirits, and the others envied them exceedingly, for they were going straight at the throat of the enemy, and would probably relieve Khartoum, disperse the Arab hordes, finish the campaign; who knew? They might even bring the Mahdi back in a cage, perhaps, before those following the river would have a chance of distinguishing themselves. They need not have distressed themselves; there would be plenty of hard fighting for all. You might as well know how our friend Reginald Kavanagh was dressed when he mounted his camel for the desert ride. Picture him then in a loose red flannel tunic, corduroy knee-breeches, serge leggings, white pith helmet with a puggaree round it. Over his shoulder he wore a bandolier belt with sockets for fifty cartridges, and a rifle pocket, in which the butt of the rifle was secured. The bandolier made him look something like a mediaeval musketeer; or might have reminded an admirer of Dumas' wonderful story--and who is not?--of Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. The Naval Brigade was also mounted on camels, and it was great fun to see them start. The camel has been called the ship of the desert, but that was by a poet, who thought rightly enough that he said a pretty thing, but who did not mean it literally. Jack did. "How this craft does roll!" cried one. "Hard a port, Bill, or you'll foul me." "What d'ye come across my bows for, then?" "Can't help it; this here won't answer the helm. Port, will you!" "Port it is." "Mind, messmate, your camel's going to founder, I think." But the warning came too late; the beast dropped on its knees, and Jack went flying over his hideous head. Love of adventure and excitement is one thing, patient endurance is another. You want to combine the two to get good soldiers, and Englishmen hitherto have done pretty well. So did these, only after a certain number of hours' march they were less jocular and more vicious. When they got to the first wells, where they expected to have a rest, being by that time pretty well baked, the supply of water was found to be so scarce that they had to push on at once; but they did it for the most part in silence. "Well, Tarrant," said Kavanagh, when they had been plodding on for some two hours in dead silence, "have you not got a growl for us?" "No, I haven't," replied the champion grumbler. "I did get a drink at Hasheen, but this poor brute I am riding didn't, so I leave the growling to him." "Sure it ought to be put in the _Gazette_" cried Grady, waking up. "First grumbler, Tarrant's camel, _vice_ Tarrant, contented." "I never said I was contented," replied Tarrant. "Only it is a consolation to know there's some one worse off than yourself." "Meaning the camels?" "Aye, and not only them. Don't you remember that 19th Hussar chap who came up the last halt? There was a go!" "What do you mean?"