There were, however, two directions in which efficiency was seriously hampered--boots and bullets. The General writes on February 2: "The present-shaped bullet .303 Lee-Metford rifle has little stopping power. Well, we have only this class of ammunition, so I am altering the shape of the bullet to that of the Dum-Dum bullet, which has a rounded point. I do this by filing the point off. Before I left Cairo I provided four hundred files and small gauges to test the length of the altered bullet, and daily here we have 2,800 men engaged on this work. I borrowed fifty railway rails and mounted them flat side uppermost, to form anvils on which to file. We have a portion of men unpacking, and another portion packing, so that the same men are always at the same work. The men are getting very sharp at it; it would make a capital picture. This is a terrible place for boots, and many of the men whose boots were not new at starting have mere apologies for boots on their feet. Fortunately, we have time to rectify this, and I have taken the necessary steps." And again a week later: "The men are working very well; we have {191} no drink, and therefore no crime or sickness. I am getting on well with altering our ammunition. We have 3,000,000 rounds to alter, but are making good progress, altering about 80,000 rounds per day." In the same letter we read: "There are crocodiles in the river here, but not many. A fisherman caught one about three feet long, a most vicious little brute, who snaps at everyone and everything; he is tied by the middle with a piece of string, and swims about in a bath; he will probably be eaten when his master gets hungry. Three days ago a gazelle was trapped and sent in to us by a native. He was uninjured, and a beautiful little brute, with large eyes like Lorna's. We all decided to keep him as a pet, and he got quite tame in a few hours. But alas! we got hungry, and some one suggested that he might escape--so we ate him. Perhaps it was the wisest course." In a letter dated Abu Dis, February 24, we get the first word of the forced march that was ordered on the following day: "I am so frightfully busy that I cannot find time for anything, so I think I may as well sit down and write to you for relaxation. Yesterday we had a seventy-mile ride to a place called Bastinab and back, looking out for future camping-grounds, for I have got a hint to be ready to move on at once, as Mahmoud at Metemma has crossed over to the east side of the Nile, and threatens to attack Atbara and Berber.... We may have to move and stack our camp baggage, etc., by the side of the line {192} in the desert, and march on in light order, the same sort of thing as in Chitral--a most exciting business this would be, wouldn't it?