Now they were sitting on the sand-bank, and the whale-boats were
bringing up the remainder of the column.

'Yes,' said Torpenhow, as he put the last rude stitches into his
over-long-neglected gear, 'it has been a beautiful business.'

'The patch or the campaign?' said Dick. 'Don't think much of either,
myself.'

'You want the Euryalus brought up above the Third Cataract, don't you?
and eighty-one-ton guns at Jakdul? Now, I'm quite satisfied with my
breeches.' He turned round gravely to exhibit himself, after the manner
of a clown.

'It's very pretty. Specially the lettering on the sack. G.B.T. Government
Bullock Train. That's a sack from India.'

'It's my initials,--Gilbert Belling Torpenhow. I stole the cloth on purpose.

What the mischief are the camel-corps doing yonder?' Torpenhow
shaded his eyes and looked across the scrub-strewn gravel.

A bugle blew furiously, and the men on the bank hurried to their arms
and accoutrements.

'"Pisan soldiery surprised while bathing,"' remarked Dick, calmly.

'D'you remember the picture? It's by Michael Angelo; all beginners copy
it. That scrub's alive with enemy.'