Lord Wolseley inspected the Naval Brigade on parade; and expressed his extreme satisfaction at the work they had done, and the manner in which it had been performed. The next day the Brigade was broken up, and told off to different stations, under the command of Captain Boardman. I was ordered to rejoin the staff of Lord Wolseley. Colonel Talbot notes that the Heavy Camel Regiment, of which he was in command, had marched about 850 miles; that the strength of the regiment upon leaving Korti was 23 officers and 373 men; and that its strength upon its return was 15 officers and 256 men. Only four of his men arrived on camels. Not one of my sailors fell out during the whole way from Gubat to Korti. Here, perhaps, it is not inopportune to place on record how delighted I was to work with the Army. We are really only one Service, for the protection of one Empire. Nor, perhaps, to relate how that Her Majesty Queen {329} Victoria, when she pinned the C.B. to my coat, said low, "I am very glad to give you this, Lord Charles. I am very pleased with you." Her Majesty's words were my reward; for I will own that decorations as such have never attracted me. I desire to record the excellent service of Captain F. R. Boardman (afterwards Admiral Frederick Ross Boardman, C.B.), who invariably did his utmost at the base to keep the Naval Brigade supplied. It was not Captain Boardman's fortune to be in the first fighting line, where is all the fun and where is often all the renown; yet the success of the fighting line depends entirely upon the energy, forethought and unselfish loyalty of those at the base of supply. I happened to be discussing this point with a certain highly distinguished personage. "We got all the credit," I said, "but not half enough was given to those at the base who sent forward the bullets and the grub." "Grub? What is grub?" inquired the highly distinguished personage. "I beg your pardon, sir. It is a slang term for food and provisions." "So grub is food, is it? How very interesting!" said the highly distinguished personage. The sequel to our expedition was of course Lord Kitchener's masterly campaign. After the capture of Omdurman, and the blowing up of the Mahdi's tomb, it was publicly stated that a certain officer was bringing home the skull of the holy man, intending to make it into an inkpot. The House of Commons (of which I was then a member) having nothing better to do, discussed the matter on 5th June, 1899. Lord Kitchener sat in the Distinguished Strangers' Gallery. Mr. John Morley (now Lord Morley) protested against the desecration of the tomb of the Mahdi. I replied to Mr. Morley, protesting against his assumption of authority in the matter. I said: