We rose early next morning (March 16) and visited the British officers at the Moudirieh. Needless to say we were in touch with a civilized _cuisine_ again, and nothing teaches a man to appreciate a good lunch in a cool room like a journey in the desert. In the afternoon I visited the hospital, which was in charge of Dr. Ensor. It is a most instructive place to a medical man; for here patients are gathered together from all parts of the Eastern Soudan. And it affords a proof of the benefits of Anglo-Egyptian administration that is beyond cavil. I saw cases of many interesting tropical diseases, about which the doctor and I had a long talk in the evening. We dined at the mess of the 11th Battalion of the Egyptian army—once more among our fellow-countrymen. On the next day we visited Cristo’s, the Whiteley’s of Kassala, and made purchases for the remainder of the journey. At sundown I watched the 11th at tattoo. This regiment had a good band, composed of Soudanese blacks, and it gave one a lively pleasure to hear European music again, though I must admit that they played the Old Hundredth arranged as a march! In the evening the Governor had a dinner-party in honour of St. Patrick’s-day, and a number of officers were present. The place might have been an Indian station instead of Kassala. On March 18 my companions left the camp very early, accompanied by another English soldier who was visiting the town, to make an inspection of the bed of the Gash above Kassala. In the evening they rode out in the opposite direction to see the end of its course in the tract in which it is absorbed. Possibly the subterranean waters, free from evaporation, will afford an invaluable reservoir for irrigation and the maintenance of stock in the future. [Illustration: THE MOUDIRIEH AT KASSALA. _See p._ 205.] [Illustration: TENTS PITCHED IN THE ENCLOSURE OF THE MOUDIRIEH AT KASSALA. _See p._ 205.] The Governor of Kassala had a small black servant, about thirteen years of age, called Fadl Mullah (Courtesy of the Prophet). The lad had been picked up in a deserted Dervish trench during the battle of the Atbara, where he was found tied to a dead camel and covered with blood. The Governor told us that he was “as sharp as a needle” and most zealous in service, never sleeping in the afternoon, and always running when he was sent upon an errand. He only gave trouble in one way, and this was that once in every two months or so he would come to the Moudir and declare that he had found his father. When the putative parent had disclaimed the bond, and the Governor had said that he would hear no more about it, the boy would acquiesce. But he was sure to discover another “father” a few weeks later.