and the Sirdar himself was the very incarnation of that stern but salutary law of Nature which ordains the survival of the fittest.  Scores of officers who failed to come up to his requirements were quietly removed; and the result was seen in a finely seasoned body of men, apt at all tasks, from staff duties to railway control.  A comparison of the Egyptian army that fought at Omdurman with that which thirteen years before ran away screaming from a tenth of its number of Dervishes affords the most impressive lesson of modern times of the triumph of mind over matter, of western fortitude over the weaker side of eastern fatalism.

Such a building up of character as this implies could not take place in a month or two, for the mind of Egyptians and Sudanese was at first an utter blank as to the need of prompt obedience and still prompter action.  An amusing case of their incredible slackness has been recorded.  On the first parade of a new camel transport corps before Lord Kitchener, the leading driver stopped his animal, and therefore all that followed, immediately in front of the Sirdar, in order to light a cigarette.  It is needless to say, the cigarette was not lighted, but the would-be smoker had his first lesson as to the superiority of the claims of collectivism over the whims of the individual[411].

[Footnote 411:  Sudan Campaign, 1896-97, by “An Officer,” p. 20.]

As will be seen by reference to the map on page 477, the decision to limit the campaign to Dongola involved the choice of the Nile route.  If the blow had been aimed straight at Khartum, the Suakim-Berber route, or even that by way of Kassala, would have had many advantages.  Above all, the river route held out the prospect of effective help from gunboats in the final attacks on Berber, Omdurman, and Khartum.  Seeing, however, that the greater part of the river’s course between Sarras and Dongola was broken up by rapids, the railway and the camel had at first to perform nearly the whole of the transport duties for which the Nile was there unsuited.  The work of repairing the railway from Wady Haifa to Sarras, and thenceforth of constructing it through rocky wastes, amidst constant risk of Dervish raids, called into play every faculty of ingenuity, patience, and hardihood.  But little by little the line crept on; the locomotives carried the piles of food, stores, and ammunition further and further south, until on June 6, 1897, the first blow was dealt by the surprise and destruction of the Dervish force at Ferket.

There a halt was called; for news came in that an unprecedented rain-storm further north had washed away the railway embankments from some of the gulleys.  To make good the damage would take thirty days, it was said.  The Sirdar declared that the line must be ready in twelve days; he went back to push on the work; in twelve days the line was ready.  As an example of the varied difficulties that were met and overcome, we may mention one.  The work of putting